strangeness a context; to begin that process, I want to look closely at an exemplary image, a page from a manuscript of Gregory the Great's letters made in the German city of Trier in the 980s for Egbert, Trier's archbishop [Plate I]. This image, made almost four centuries after Gregory's death, at- tests to the pope's importance in the early Middle Ages. Because his letters were valued as statements of church doctrine and as models of epistolary style, they were collected into a registrum, a register; this painting served as a frontispiece to a copy of that text. It shows Gre- gory working on one of his influential Bible commentaries. As was typical for early medieval authors, the pope does not write the text himself but dictates to a secretary, who transcribes the words with a stylus onto a wooden tablet that has been hollowed out and filled with wax. The early Middle Ages had no other inexpensive writing mate- rial: Parchment or vellum, the treated skin of animals (on which this miniature was painted), was a difficult-to-prepare luxury; paper was unknown; and papyrus was almost impossible to obtain in northern Europe because the plant from which it was made grew only in Egypt. According to an early medieval biography of Gregory, one day the scribe, puzzled by Gregory's frequent breaks in dictation, used his stylus to pierce a hole in the curtain that separated him from the pope and saw the white dove of the Holy Spirit perched on Gregory's shoulder and speaking words of divine wisdom into his ear. For my subject, the relation of word and image in early medieval art, this painting is almost too good to be true. A luxurious picture used to illustrate a book, it depicts the theologian whose association of images with words was central to the medieval understanding of art. This miniature indicates the crucial place of the word in the Mid- dle Ages, for its subject is that word, both oral (the voices of the dove and of the dictating Gregory) and written ( Gregory consults an open manuscript on the lectern in front of him while he holds another closed book in his right hand; the scribe writes on the wax tablet). But the picture also has as its theme vision, the sense without which art does not exist: The scribe, baffled by the absence of words from the pope's mouth, cannot solve the mystery with his ears, the organs of hearing; he is forced to pierce the curtain in order to use his eyes, the -2- |