All Abristle
An Exploration of the Wildman ArchetypeThe clothing of a society and its era reflect the external face of identity, id est social identity, and the hierarchical layout it assumes. Conversely, the absence of clothing indicates an affiliation with that which lies outside the bounds of societal norm. More than that, it is often resistant to an absolute consensus of identification. In the Medieval feudal system, dress facilitated recognition of one's place in the ordered society, providing a ready association with one's role and purpose. For example, in the visual arts, costume helped in recognizing enemies such as Saracens and identifying members of the three estates: nobility, clergy, and commoners. Between the fully clothed and the nude there was a middle ground from where transitions into either sphere took place, such as in images of Christ disrobing. In the absence of clothing, to help guide one in identifying persons and their moralizing roles, attempts were made in creating limited categories for acceptable depictions and identification of the nude. One example is the four categories of nudity derived from “moral mythographer” Pierre Bersuire's (ca. 1290-1362) Repertorium Morale.1 Nuditas naturalis is “The natural state of man as he is born into the world”; nuditas temporalis is “The lack of worldly goods and possessions”; nuditas virtualis being “...the use of nudity as the symbol of purity and innocence”; and nuditas criminalis “...is symbolic of lust, vanity and the lack of all virtues”. 2 While this system of categorization is primarily suited for the depiction and identification of the nude human form it may be applicable in categorizing the Monstrous Races, which were often shown scantily clad or entirely nude, into nuditas criminalis. Residing at the edge of the known world, The Monstrous Races have a firm footing as the quintessential Other. They await conversion and salvation of their soul by Christian missionaries, until then, they exist as oddities.3 In short, the Monstrous Races have a demarcated material and abstract identity that does not lend itself to ambiguity. Yet, in spite of all appearances of having a proclivity for structured categorization and its link to social identity, Medieval society did interface with the ambiguous, thus provoking different responses and methods for interacting with the equivocal.
As an exemplar of ambiguity, the Wild Man is a figure worth examining. Unlike his monstrous kin, he does not fit absolutely into the aforementioned categories of the nude, clothed, or the transitional states of dressing or disrobing. We may affirm that he is without constructed clothes but interpret his abundant hair as a vestment bestowed to the creatures of raw nature. Devoid of sewn clothing he is literally and figuratively anti-social. Paradoxically, in nature's vestments he may be considered clothed. In the era where his myth/symbol was active in the minds of the populace, his ambiguity proved to be the source of his flexibility, being an apt object for their projected fears, anxieties, and passions. Aside from being a suitable recipient for such projections, his liminal position in the scala naturae inspired the imagination of both moral authors and secular writers alike. The setting of his home is comprised of the dense forest with the symbolic connotation of being “...chaos lying at the heart of darkness...”4 The forest habitat neighbored human settlements, unlike the Monstrous Races. It's interesting to note here that relatively large scale deforestation occurred in the Medieval era. With it came the observable phenomenon of reforestation during halted times of working the land such as during plagues, war, or neglect.5 The rapidity with which the wilderness reclaims land is a well suited analogy for conveying the process of the primordial drives quickly reclaiming the civilized mind should it neglect to maintain itself or its control falter. There exists the possibility that the boundaries between the civilized and wild, human and animal, object and subject, can potentially shift like the boundaries of the forest.
The members of the three estates: nobility, clergy, and commoners all had unique relationships with the forest. For example, the nobility's enforcement of exclusive access to demarcated forested areas for the the use of recreational hunting is consistent with the nobility's attitude towards the Wild Man as a humorous figure or as the protagonist in secular literature where he acts out carnal (human) passions; all of which are forms of entertainment. The Ecclesiastic relationship with nature was one of master over that which is dominated. In accordance with Biblical belief in the separation of man from nature, the forest was cleared for use by clergy, nature was thus dominated. Correspondingly, the Wild Man figure, considered an amoral beast, was a warning to Christians of what spiritual neglect could lead one into becoming. The drives, instincts, and passions were therefore viewed with suspicion by the church because it jeopardized the belief in man being ontologically distinct from animals. It followed that the primordial urges, a vestige of our animality, should be dominated lest one regress into a chaotic, insane, and ungodly existence.6 The last estate, being the peasants, are historically silent concerning the wild man but, as Bernheimer points out, it is possible to reconstruct their position through the study of folklore in addition to a perusal of surviving fertility festivals scattered throughout Europe. The relationship may be construed as one of reciprocity, an understanding of the life and death cycle of exchange betraying a pre-Christian influence. An excerpt from the libretto for documentary film Carnival King of Europe describes the motive behind the ritual of seasonal masked festivals: “These are the powers of the Wild, the undisciplined yet crucial energies which we, the humans, need to appease, blandish and domesticate til when – if possible – we will be able finally to lure in and harness to plough and harrow.”7 The peasantry were dependent on the resources of the forest where they ”...gathered fuel, grazed stock, hunted game, or increased the amount of cultivable land in the forest."8 The fundamental drives of nature were not oppressed, instead, through these cathartic festivals, involving the Wild Man and the Wild Horde, they were expressed. Though beyond the scope of this paper, a future examination of these relationships may, in turn, reveal some interesting ramifications stemming from the various attitudes toward the primordial human drives embodied in the Wild Man. With this in mind, this paper aims to explore the relationship of the equivocal signified by the Wild Man and its relevance in a contemporary understanding of the self. The body of the paper is divided into sections named after Hayden White's three securities of civilized life: sustenance, sex, and salvation. In my usage, of the terms, sustenance is that which gives life to the symbol of the Wild Man, the attributes of the Wild Man archetype. Sex is the description of the drives and the anxiety which comes with the distortion of the drives, or from which is unknown. Salvation is the building a relationship with the Wild Man within oneself as part of a creative conduit. Through the method of via positiva and via negativa one meets and transcends the ambiguous to encounter the drives, realizing that the Wild Man's nakedness is not the question here, it is man's nakedness to himself which is of relevance. Within this context, ambiguity had and has a valuable heuristic function in the ongoing formation of identity.
While the Wild Man archetype assumes various complementary manifestations throughout history, his physical form has remained in a dualistic hybrid state; a state between modern human and primitive humanoid. Changes in economy and shifts in political hegemony have expanded or reduced the window of opportunity for people to add to the Wild Man's symbolic lexicon. So though he may be the antithesis to civilized humanity in one century and the ideal figure of virtuous strength in a later century, what remains constant are his physical attributes. He is never a composite of any other animal such as a boar or a bat. He is man that has yet to individuate from nature. Lacking manufactured clothes, the body is enveloped in a coat of long hair that serves as protection against the elements. Usually his hands and feet are left bare. Depictions of the Wild Woman omit hair on her breasts in addition to her hands and feet. Visual depictions of either sometimes give the impression that it is a suit one has the potential of shedding and of freeing oneself. It is reminiscent of the danger that can potentially threaten the civilized ego, being subsumed in an enveloping wildness but there is also the possibility of redemption, and being restored, albeit changed, back into civilization. The contrast of skin and hair accentuates the parts of the humanoid body which are left bare. In the case of the Wild Woman, her exposed breasts draw attention to her femininity. There are few visual examples showing the Wild Man's genitalia but again, the contrast of skin against hair accentuates what is left bare. The club or uprooted tree he is seen holding, reminiscent of a phallus and perhaps taking the place of the one that remains hidden in so many depictions, acts as an extension of his unrestrained aggression, an aggression more apparent when he abandons the weapon of choice in favor of a more tactile brutality explicit in the use of his bare hands. Unable to articulate his most base desires, the wild man can only convey them through acts of violence. Most frequently, men were the recipients of such cruel actions, whether as travelers seeking a shorter path through the forests, mountains or waterways where the Wild Man made his home or as knights venturing into the wilderness seeking fame and fortune by putting their “bravery” to the test. An ignoble death was awaiting many of these poor souls as there are tales, depending on the region, portraying the Wild Man as a cannibal. This event functions as an effective metaphor underscoring the overwhelming nature of the drive, consumed by rage and fear, on the seemingly docile state of rationality.
Prior to the 16th Century when Wild Woman depictions became more positive she is described as a “libidinous hag” with “shrunken flesh and long sagging breasts which are either slung over the shoulder or allowed to drag over the ground.”9 Many unfortunate humans would encounter the Wild Woman appearing from a cave or crevice in the forest and become her victim or if one happened to be a human child, one would be snatched away and devoured. There is little wonder why the Wild Man or Woman could embody the role of a bogeyman to keep children from straying too far away from the family and other menial duties such as finishing supper and going to bed at the appropriate time. Children would have witnessed for themselves the theatrical embodiment of the Wild Man during seasonal carnivals. The image of the Wild Man, in reality a costumed member of the society, might have crystallized in their minds, providing a point of reference. The Wild Man's ferociousness is not restricted to the terror and hostility inflicted upon those members of humanity who did not heed the warnings. Animals of the wild were also beset upon by the Wild Man and his basic needs for sustenance and domination. He traverses the forest on all fours using instinct and brutishly inhuman strength to take down beasts of all sizes and make of them a raw meal. As “lord of the animals”, the sylvan king holds his court from the innermost depths of the forest. He does not know he is king for he has been barred from the faculties of reason and self-reflection. Civilization would need a figure such as the Wild Man at that time, not only as a monster under the bed that would prepare its youngest members for an adult life of adhering to the rules and standards set upon them from those institutions of society but also, as Medieval literature utilizes, a warning that to indulge in one's passions outside the Christian context is to morally transgress and risk oneself becoming a pariah, an outcast like the Wild Man.
Portrayals of men and women who regress to wildness are not always shown hirsute and consequently their wildness is defined by the behavior of one possessed by a degenerate mental state. This is to be distinguished from the Wild Man whose identity is, from the onset, entwined with the signification of hairiness and thus, his Otherness. He is a creature of greater complexity but his is not brought to light in the multiplicity of attributes both personal and physical; a ferocious, powerful, fearsome, hairy beast filled with lust and violence roaming the forests and mountainsides as well as streams and rivers. Nor can it be exposed in the host of names, sylvan, sylvester, woodwose, homo agrestis, further seeking to objectify and make some sense of just what is the Wild Man. The hair of the Wild Man becomes an experiment in semiotics. This involves a method known as the via negativa, a discursive process of naming and attributing characteristics upon a subject to form a block of knowledge which is to be disassembled in order to locate that which is imminent to the subject and not “...imposed by the human mind in the process of knowing and representing.”10
Every hair on the Wild Man has not been mentioned here but there is enough to begin plucking. The Wild Man is not physical strength nor endurance, not a bogeyman, not fear itself, his essence is not sex nor is it sexual, he is not animal nor is he even man himself. For when the man is stripped from the Wild Man’s Dasein, id est his being in the world, all that remains is “wild”. The true essence of the Wild Man figurative is revealed “…a focus of man's various instincts and desires...,”or for the purposes of this essay, the drive.11 This is not the libido, the sexual expression of the drive, however, but something more akin to what Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari have termed “becoming-animal,” an expression which is wholly appropriate to the context of the subject being dealt with here. The interpretation of “becoming-animal” given is that it is movement, or more specifically, moving. 12 It is the energy or power that is appropriated (reterritorialized) when the subject interacts with the world via the senses. This power is transformed into more complex drives, such as the instinct to procreate, the instinct to eat, fight or flight responses, etc.
The drive can be perverted, but not by the Wild Man, who, not knowing good from evil, is completely innocent in his appropriations of the drive. Not until the Wild Man develops consciousness will he run into the difficulties of life with the Ego and its desire for an identity, as a mode of survival, not unlike those individual humans of which to sustain a mode of survival amongst those individuals which it deems similar to itself. It is perceptible when our attention is diverted to Christian Medieval society where a principle of unification was touted. St. Augustine had held that man, animals, and man-like creatures were all part of the beautiful whole. 13 This was a holistic principle to which twelfth century Medieval society took a reductionist knife and divided and labeled and categorized man, animal, and man-like creatures. 14 The boundary lines were drawn and the differences exposed whether by proximity, by class, Catholic or Protestant or Jewish, white, black, male or female. Identities become imposed on the other, as Hayden White calls a “self-definition by negation”, and, due to the difficulties inherent in defining what one is, the other becomes a cacophony of everything that one is not. Disguising the other in difference and blanketing the other with monstrous attributes is a way for the Ego to manage those fears and anxieties that arise from the depths of oneself. The act of categorizing and creating identities becomes a catharsis for one’s fears and anxieties. But these psychic processes are not the drive, they are, as C.G. Jung identifies them, “unconscious compulsions.”15 The Wild Man himself is not a figurative for these compulsions. While there may be stresses in the Wild Man's life, he is without a means of self-reflection to rationalize or obsess over what affects him. Impulses and affects can become distorted and inflated in the presence of the Ego, being transformed into states of depression, obsessive thoughts, and anxiety, among others. The anxieties present in the Wild Man are not imminent to him but are projections of the self aware human. Events such as this are common within any epoch when one is in direct confrontation with the other, especially when that other clouds the horizon of what was clear and present, and they are many times the result of acting on one’s inflated impulses. Whereas the Wild Woman's endeavors to fulfill expressions of the sexual impulse are either sated or rebuked, the Wild Man's attempts to satisfy his carnal desire are unfulfilled and usually encountered with the instrument of his own death, chiefly that of the knight or hunter, or with domestication. With the Wild Woman, as in the case of Raue Else in the thirteenth-century epic Wolfdietrich, the drive is reterritorialized to produce a normalizing effect. The “wild” is washed away from the woman initially with a baptism, making her worthy of God, and secondarily in a fountain of youth to rid Raue Else of her somatic “wildness,” the notion of hair on a woman being decidedly unattractive, and thereby changing her into a woman who conforms to notions of nobility. With body hair on a man being a sign of virility, the Wild Man does not appear to suffer the same fate as Raue Else. His hair is not washed away in a miraculous fountain or shorn from his body to fit acceptable norms. He is permitted to retain his hirsuteness throughout the domestication process as shown in a scene (see Fig. 1) depicting the Wild Man, hair intact, playing chess with a maiden. As the notions of marriage changed during the fifteenth-century with its participants being merely actors in the duties of procreation to the participants being actants, along with their duties, toward the pursuit of ideal lovemaking, the Wild Man holds on to his hair as a vestige of the virility which is imminent, through the projections of the civilized man, to him. Though towards the sixteenth century the Wild Woman’s image is shown in a positive light, the projections of the Wild Woman being a deceiver were intrinsic to her primordial incarnations. Deception seems to be the Dasein of many humans living in the Renaissance. There are those members of nobility whose “…public identity did not match their parentage,” along with those individuals belonging to the middle class who could buy their way into the aristocracy. 16 Even the commoners take part in the etiquette of duplicity, fashioning identities to satisfy their desires. These permutations are furthermore evident in many popular examples of secular literature of the time. The ill feeling that wells up is ostensibly clear in Michel de Montaigne’s sentiment about the deceptive play of his fellow citizens:
For as for this newfangled virtue of hypocrisy and dissimulation,
which is so highly honored at present, I mortally hate it; and of
all vices, I know none that testifies to so much cowardice and
baseness of heart. It is a craven and servile idea to disguise
ourselves and hide behind a mask, and not to dare to show
ourselves as we are.17
The Wild Man is movement, or rather, moving and in his movements between man and animal, animal and man, a deception takes place, ambiguity irrupts, humans become projectionists of fear and of anxiety as they likewise become perpetrators of violence, both physical and mental, upon the other. Proximity plays a significant factor on the scope and scale of violence leveled upon the other. Alexander’s monsters live on the fringes of the world in harmony with a Christian society which marvels at their existence while close neighbors who have recently converted religions live in fear of reprisal for performing a life of one religion while practicing another. There are those times when one arrives on the doorstep of the other and discovers not men or women but some things to subjugate or even to annihilate. How should one conduct oneself if it were to be discovered that the other is not only at the periphery of the external world but within one’s actual being?
There is an illustration from the around 1500 CE depicting the Wild Man standing just outside the hollow of a tree and leaning against his characteristic club, seemingly in an act of contemplation or that of quiet resignation. (See Fig. 2) If his coat of hair were to be exchanged for some manufactured garment, such as a coat of wool or linen, he would appear as any man would having a respite in the woods. This particular Wild Man does not require an act of the imagination to anthropomorphize him, one need only to look midway down the figure to encounter what the artist has rendered for this creature, male genitalia. In recognition of this sort, the Wild Man is brought out of the dark enclaves of the wilderness and necessarily out of the “...hidden recesses of every man” and not primarily man but every individual within civilization.18 Though in all appearances inaccessible, as a result of the Wild Man’s chaotic and violent nature, man’s and woman’s flesh is there beneath the flowing locks of hair and matted tufts. Humans and the Wild Man are of each other and in this integration a primordial force is exposed with all its potential for transformation of the world around and within oneself. If one could visualize, with the notion of the proverbial “wind blowing through the hair,” the nerves of the skin transmitting the feeling one receives from the bending and twisting of each follicle from every pore on the body; could one say the Wild Man is naked or would he merely be in a liminal state, protected from the gaze but still able to experience a sense of freedom that civilized man, in his man-made clothes and constructed identities, would know little about? Unless, that is, man and woman could work out a Dasein where nakedness is a manner of relating to the other and, if it suits them, they may keep their clothes on.
What clothes to wear or not to wear is precisely what is at stake here, for this is the identity of the individual in both the personal and social spheres and the question becomes, “How does one manage this way of being in the world?” When the Wild Man, the drive, is recognized in oneself a new relationship with it must be formed. This relationship to oneself, rapport à soi, is the governing factor in establishing a set of personal ethics and determining the “being to which we aspire when we behave in a moral way.”19 It has already been shown what mischief and mayhem the drive can cause when a relationship with it is hindered by the ego’s failure to relate to what is emerging from one’s being, those unconscious impulses. There will always be a bit of discord when grappling with one’s own force of nature but the Wild Man, externalized in his numerous renditions, reminds us there is value in suffering when he “...lament[s] the good weather and rejoic[es] over the bad.”20 Discord occurs in direct confrontation with one’s own foreignness and this event has the potential to determine how one conducts oneself with the others out there. How one relates to the other within and without is a matter for nakedness or rather “vulnerability” which is essential for the connections one creates for that individual’s continued existence. 21
Vulnerability is not a recent concept; it has made its appearance throughout an abundance of poems and stories about the allegorical siege. The siege is represented in two aspects, one as that of the soul and the other as the lover or beloved, and can, in its metaphorical state, “contribute[s] to developing conceptions of the soul, the self, and types of love from the erotic to the spiritual during the Middle Ages and beyond.” 22 In one example, from Le Roman de la rose, Jeun de Meun provides a schemata for which the drive can be accepted into a relationship with oneself even though its conception may have been that of a bawdy metaphor for the act of sex. In it the God of Love, along with a loyal army, launches an attack on the Castle, protected by its own army, id est “social conventions.” When these figuratives are pulled apart to reveal their essences, the God of Love is the culmination of the unconscious compulsions, for “...Love as by nature [is] combative and aggressive...” the Castle, the woman, becomes a symbol for the part of the Ego that concerns itself with identity. 23 The rose then becomes a symbol for that sector of the Ego that has the potential for engaging the drive and directing into a creative power. Many attempts of conquest are made upon the Castle but to no avail; it is impenetrable. It is only through the means of vulnerability, when the gates of the Castle are unlocked and opened, that the Lover is allowed to partake in the acts of creation. Where is the Wild Man in this tale? He is in the guise of the Lover, for it is difficult to conceal the phallic nature of the Lover’s staff and the correlation it evokes with the Wild Man’s club.
There are many stories and depictions where the Wild Man is a bit easier to identify and one common thread is in the event of his taming. The lust of the Wild Man is stirred into a frenzy at the sight of a maiden whereupon his urges compel him to kidnap her in order to produce offspring. The maiden has a power of her own, that of domestication, and she can direct the drive of the Wild Man into more normative pursuits, reading, chess, social etiquette, etc. In this image, (See Fig. 3) the maiden appears to be able to hold a chain tethered to the wild man with a delicate grasp, as though the wild man is so willingly and easily controlled. It is only in her proximity to him and with an understanding that develops in relation to him that she can hold onto the Wild Man so tentatively; she is aware of the power of the drive which is embodied by him. Often these stories are coupled with a hunt with the maiden employed as bait and the hunter utilized as a means of capture to bring the Wild Man to the taming powers of the maiden. Without the maiden as a lure and guide, the hunter can only seek to repress or destroy. The maiden’s capability is direction but the Wild Man needs a more transformative power and for that he will need a more suitable mate, found in the figure of the Wild Woman. She is a symbol of fertility and procreation but, more than that, she is a symbol of creation, that aspect that is missing from the Wild Man and is not quite mature in the maiden. With the Wild Man and Woman’s coupling and consummation, a new life is formed and with it, the self.
Michel Foucault suggests that the “...self is not...given...,” it is formed. 24 The formation of the self relies on a relationship with oneself that is open to the possibilities of transformation. Establishing a connection with those others within oneself, the hunter, the maiden, the Wild Woman, creates a society within oneself where it is imperative the founding of a system of personal ethics should not be ignored. For this is crucial in the forging of relationships and “ethical connections” with the others in the material world. The Wild Man is a source of vitality in the makeup of the human being; Indulging in wildness is risky. It is that wildness that is attractive to the discerning Ego that wishes to devour wildness and constrain it within those structures of identity leading to the subjugation of oneself or others. But wildness, when misconstrued as a sort of free reign of our most base drives and instincts can potentially upset our ordered life and there is a fear one may not come back as one once was or worse, not come back at all. There is fear in being vulnerable to a process and outcome not guaranteed to be to our expectations and a responsibility that comes with acknowledging and experiencing our inner drive. There is something much deeper within the forest that can only be felt when one peers into the darkness from the tree line through the opening left by the Wild Man’s emergence. When one stands naked before the abyss that is oneself, there should be no shame.
1 Alastair Minnis, in the introduction to his book Magister amoris: The Roman de la Rose and Vernacular Hermeneutics, refers to Pierre Bersuire as a “moral mythographer”, p.17.
2 Ferguson, Signs and Symbols in Christian Art. p.49.
3 Clemens, Raymond, Introduction to Manuscript Studies: “Possibly the home of the monstrous races from classical antiquity, this continent may have represented the final nation of people to be converted before the Apocalypse would occur.” p.243.
4 White, “The Forms of Wildness” in The Wild Man Within: An Image in Western Thought from the Renaissance to Romanticism. p.13.
5 Williams, Michael. "Dark ages and dark areas: global deforestation in the deep past." p.30.
6 Timothy Husband, in his book, The Wild Man: Medieval Myth and Symbolism, refers to the “...phobias of medieval society-chaos, insanity, and ungodliness.” p.5.
7 Kezich, Carnival King of Europe.
8 Williams, “Dark ages and dark areas: global deforestation in the deep past.” p.40.
9 Bernheimer, Wild Men in the Middle Ages. p.35.
10 Williams, Deformed Discourse: The Function of the Monster in Mediaeval Thought and Literature. pp.6-7.
11 Bernheimer, Wild Men in the Middle Ages. p.121.
12 Deleuze, A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. p.259.
13 Hutchins, Great Books of the Western World: 18. Augustine. p.427.
14 Wiesner-Hanks, The Marvelous Hairy Girls: The Gonzales Sisters and Their Worlds. p.29.
15 Campell, The Portable Jung. Psychological processes which are not instinct but labeled as “unconscious compulsion[s]”: disproportionate affects, impressions, exaggerated impulses, intentions that go too far (e.g. “obsessive thoughts, musical obsessions, sudden ideas and moods, impulsive affects, depressions, anxiety states, etc.”) pp.48-49.
16 Wiesner-Hanks, The Marvelous Hairy Girls: The Gonzales Sisters and Their Worlds. p.72
17 Frame, Michel de Montaigne, Selected Essays. p.148.
18 Husband, The Wild Man: Medieval Myth and Symbolism. p.13.
19 Foucault, The Foucault Reader. p.352.
20 Bernheimer, Wild Men in the Middle Ages. p.31
21 Butler, Precarious Life. p.45.
22 Hebron, The Medieval Siege: Theme and Image in Middle English Romance . p.136.
23 Hebron, The Medieval Siege: Theme and Image in Middle English Romance. pp.155-156.
24 Foucault, The Foucault Reader. p.351.
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