Sean Tarjoto
Humanities II
Prof. Hildebrandt
Mar. 3, 2000
Midterm 

Startled by God
“Not like / A lone beautiful bird / These poems now rise in great white flocks / Against my mind’s vast hills / Startled by God / Breaking  a branch / When His foot / Touches / Earth / Near / Me” (pg. 21, The Gift)

	This is the first poem in the translation by Daniel Ladinsky of The Gift, written by the Sufi master Hafiz.  The metaphoric effect of the poem presents a problem when presented in full.  Although the flock of birds represent the poems which this poem is introducing, it reserves no special place for the poem itself.  It would be appropriate if Hafiz wrote an allegory between this poem and a single bird, perhaps the leader of this flock of poems.  To do so, however, might condescend the quality of the rest of the poems.  This lead poem/bird would have to lead the poems in whichever direction they wished to go, and in this case, it is in the direction of the reader.
	But the poems are startled, and no less, startled by God.  In addition to the notion that the poems are being directed (albeit, mysteriously) toward some purpose, they are not headed in any particular direction, so, a leader is not necessary.  To refine and synthesize, the poems are headed in the direction beset by God.  This direction however, continues to be the one where the reader receives the poems, and indeed, by having read the first one, the poems have already flown their way unto the mind of the reader.

Let’s Eat
“Why / Just show you God’s menu? / Hell, we are all / Starving- / Let’s / Eat!” (pg. 22, The Gift)

	A dinner is a ceremony of friendship.  If we imagine a lone hunter, having worked hard - perhaps even risked his life -  to capture that evening’s meal, and then imagine him sharing the spoils of his work with someone else, then we must imagine that second person to be special to the hunter.  But it makes sense for anyone to share their resources because it fosters cooperation, and stifles competition. Hafiz notes that we are all starving, we are all seeking to satiate our need for food, if not our need for shelter and companionship. We have the option of pursuing these desires in competition with each other. However, if we all eat together, we become a force of tremendous potential. The realization of this would also eradicate the need for competition.
	These are ideas which are applicable to the modern world.  God’s menu is the reality which is nature.  We have enough to keep us fed and entertained forever, because our resource is omnipotent and omniscient.  It does not make sense to squabble over  them, but it does make sense to share them.

The Stairway of Existence
“We / Are not / In pursuit of formalities / Or fake religious / Laws, / For through the stairway of existence / We have come to God’s / Door / We are / People who need to love, because / Love is the soul’s life, / Love is simply creation’s greatest joy / Through / The stairway of existence, / O, through the stairway of existence, Hafiz, / Have / You now come, / Have we all now come to / The Beloved’s / Door.” (pg. 96, The Gift)

	If we are people who need to love, then this makes sharing and cooperation even more sensible than competition. Hafiz criticizes the absurdity of formality and religious laws not divinely ordained by god (but rather created by rulers in their interest), because they inhibit freedom, do not necessarily encourage brotherhood, and force joy out of life.  Formalities are the lubricant of society, and most often a waste of time. Something cannot occur formally without being exercised in an instance of tradition, here it simply reiterates the obvious, and in doing so, separates people. For example, a formal bow to a monarch is an acknowledgment of the monarch’s power, but even without this acknowledgment no harm is done, the monarch does not die having not had his ego sustained, the court will operate well, so long as the subject understands this is the monarch.

Virgin of Vladmir (pg. 212, fig. 4-66)
	This Byzantine piece from the 12th century conforms to much of the style of Greek iconography.  Byzantine art tends to be very conservative and unopen to innovation or variation between artists. This is a type known as Glykophilousa or Eleousa, “affectionate, loving one”.  The virgin appears melancholy, while the Christ Child presses his face against her cheek.  She is not at all sensual and entirely solemn.  The shape of her head is far too geometrical to be drawn without a compass, and this is the intent of the artist to exemplify her separation from the physical as a theme.  In addition, the Christ Child’s neck is disproportionate, extending too far back to be possible, this is also in regard to the superiority of the divine to the physical.  A third allusion to this motif of the unimportance of physicality is the repainted drapery which is stiff, folding in a manner very unnatural and wholly abstract. While this may say that physical appearance may be important in gauging the holiness of a thing we must remember that this is an ancient painting, one where the resources should not be wasted on depicting something at all ordinary or ugly.
	
	The “Ave maris stella” by Guillaume Dufay is a Gregorian hymn addressed to the Virgin Mary and sung on special feats, and most Saturdays.  Six stanzas in plainchant are nevertheless embellished by the alternations of even-numbered ones in Dufay’s composition.  The hymn became popular in its time and here Dufay uses it, I think, somewhat casually, even paraphrasing parts of the Gregorian hymn.  This is in striking contrast to the conformity of the Byzantine Virgin of Vladmir, which exists as far away from alteration of the common style. Both are praises to the Madonna, and it is purposeless to assign which one is better.  Suffice to say that despite their contrasts they are both still quite sacred. 
	It is this countless attempts to honor her that both add to the power of the Virgin Mary as an idol and separate her from humanity.  But doctrine would say that any praise could not fail to add her glory, represent her holiness, because she truly is as pious as every work idolizes.   

Madonna on the rocks. (pg. 286, fig. 5-57).
	This elusive painting depicts the forces of nature still carving out the earth’s mountains while the Virgin, the Christ Child, an angel and John the Baptist exist in a pyramidal relationship.  Mary’s head forms the apex while under her right arm is the Baptist, worshipping the Christ Child (producing a second imaginary line).  The angel to Mary’s left is next to the Christ Child, her right index finger pointed toward the Baptist and directly over the Christ Child.  Above her hand is the extended, protective hand of the Virgin, impressively foreshortened. She is blessing the Christ Child.  What is also interesting is that the Madonna wears no veil, giving the impression of a Madonna much more involved and less introvert.
	A second version of this painting presents the angel in observation of John the Baptist, with no hand pointed toward him.  Here, however, the angel is attentive to both children, with her gaze focused on the Christ.  In this version the pyramidal structure is more unified.  The relationship between the characters in a pyramid is part of a medieval/Christian association with the geometric form and the microcosmic/macrocosmic tradition.  The mathematical structure of the universe is delineated in the physical structure of humanity, as exampled in the Vitruvian Man.  This relation between our physical being and the mystical-physical conception of the universe prevalent in medieval is a sort of reconciled dualism.  It does not necessarily stress the flawed nature of mankind posited by Christian theology but rather the notion that such the flaws that do exist will be corrected by the reason required in geometry.  Although the proliferation of this idea and the recreation of mankind (a Christian concept ascribed in the background of the painting) is the task of Christ, the center of this painting is the Madonna.  She is necessary for any of this to occur; for Christ to be born, for the angel to regard John the Baptist, and for him to worship Christ.  She is the causal factor here, the apex of the pyramid, and the focus of this very epic-like piece.  

Tempestuous Landscape with a Gypsy and a Soldier. (pg. 321, 6-36).
	This does not have an obvious reference to Catholicism, but is nevertheless a depiction of a mother with her child.  The two are separated from the soldier by the dark shadow at the bottom of the painting, the small creek, and the distant bridge in the background.  A lightning bolt crosses in the middle of the sky. The mood here is one of separation, hiding.  Disunity is apparent throughout the entire work, the gulf of space between the man and the woman, the ruined buildings and the contemporary ones are scattered throughout.  There is a lush tree and a spindly younger one.  This is an unusual “Madonna”, more emotional and far less interested in depiction of a story.  

“ ‘For a / tempest rose up /and tossed / us in its rage, / till there on a sandbank we lay./ The hot sun beat down, / and tormented us all, / but the snow-baby / melted away.’” - The Snow Baby, pg. 158.

	This is how the husband rids himself of the illegitimate son his wife bore.  If it were not for the gravity of the action the man might sound sarcastic.  It is unusual that he 
did this after “five years had passed”, since the baby is no longer a baby and now a child strong enough to follow his father on a faraway trip. There exists an contrast between the weary, travel-worn and supposedly faithful husband and the wife who broods at home and becomes pregnant from a party. The husband also explains the death of the snow-baby by heat, while the wife explains he was born out of cold. The same thing which both causes in reality and then is used as alibi is, however, the immutable storm.  The “tempest” which strands the husband for two years and illicit the birth of the baby is also blamed for its death.  
	The snow-baby itself is an innocent lost by the musings of revenge and lust and lies which surround him.  The snow-baby, however, is not dead, he is only sold to slavery.  One wonders what his destiny is; it is a story untold.  

“After that fall, God straight away
made man upon the earth to stay;
He wanted humankind for sure
to live on earth for evermore.” - A German Adam and Eve parody, pg. 26.

	That God would consider creating more life after his ordeal with Lucifer implies that God is really quite stupid.  Indeed, God decides to create man, a species that is technically inferior to the angels, is even more bizarre. However, it is important to note however that some accounts of the war in heaven attribute Lucifer with a covetousness for the crown, while others say it is his refusal to be secondary to the creation that is man.  This parody relies on the inexplicable appearance of malice in the angels which makes no more sense than the God who creates mankind after casting his favorite angel to hell.  It is harder to imagine a parody for the version where man is doted by God whilst Lucifer, like a jealous older child, stomps angrily around.  

“Gotelind, Helmbrecht’s sister spoke, and she / agreed that this man simply could not be / the son: ‘He spoke Latin to me at least. / It’s my opinion that he’ll be a priest.’ / The groom then spoke up: ‘No, I’m sure he’s not. / To me he sounded something like a Scot, / or someone from up North of here, I know...’” - Helmbrecht - Father and Son, pg. 106.
	
	The old values of feudal society seem to come apart quite vividly in this scene where the confused townspeople can no longer identify Helmbrecht because he is so well-traveled. It is an example where the people, living in isolated fiefs can’t comprehend that a single man might come back from outside their society having learned a new language.  It is a kind of denial that such outside forces exist, may be equal or greater in power and resource to your own country, and may one day conquer you.  Of course, this is more of an insight into the stone-blind author.  History shows the author to be rather obstinate.
	The change in Helmbrecht from a farmer to a aspiring-aristocrat complicates things in the same way gothic architecture evolved from Romanesque style.  We see in many transitory period cathedrals or cathedrals built in Romanesque style, partially destroyed, and rebuilt in the later gothic period to be somewhat asymmetrical, employing different and new architectural ideas.  This kind of change, where old traditions are added onto, modified, or torn down making way for the new is frequent in European history.  The Dark Ages followed the fall of the western Roman empire, the birth of feudalism and the new military - the cavalry - which declined to and made room for the Renaissance. 
	Architecture itself exists as pieces of history, evidence of a life long past.  The tradition of European history demands the constant attention of posterity, however.  There is no construction in Paris because the entire city is a historical landmark. The past grows continuously, swallowing the future and sending the present fleeting away.  
	
Extra Credit
	It seems as if the structure of the is the inverse of the commedia, that it is a tragedy.  It begins with an analysis of faraway Eastern culture (Hafiz), follows with an examination of tenets intrinsic to western religion and music, and then into an examination of the worst aspects of medievalism and its frightening gothic architecture.  Of course, to follow this logic would mean that this extra credit analysis would be the apex of tragedy, separation from the first thing which I wrote, which is my name, and thus separation from myself.
	This is an unusually structured essay, however, and I have the feeling that other students will see their essays as a unification of that which we learned this semester.  We should have greater knowledge of medieval literature now.  I don’t believe I’ve unified any of these well enough and wonder if this is a tragic case of self-abasement.  
	Hafiz would tell me to cheer up.  But Dante would say I must pass through inferno first.  The interesting thing is that I am not analyzing Dante anywhere in this midterm even though it is being read simultaneously. Perhaps I am simply confused, lost in the purgutario, with the lions of malice and fraudulence hunting for me, but in the dark wood.  I see the light over the horizon and I will now enjoy my spring.