THE QUESTING BEAST AND THE WHITE BOAR
One
of the strangest creatures encountered in Arthurian romance – and, indeed, in
all of medieval literature – is the Questing Beast. A good description of this elusive,
mysterious creature may be found in the excellent article prepared by The
Camelot Project at the University of Rochester:
http://d.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/theme/questing-beast
A recent scholarly treatment of the beast may be found in Malorie
Sponseller’s graduate thesis, QUESTING THE BEAST: FROM MALORY TO MILTON:
http://digitalcommons.georgiasouthern.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=2127&context=etd
The
most important thing to distinguish is that there are actually TWO Questing
Beasts. The first is found in the story
of Perlesvaus. In this source it is an
allegorical monster representing Christ.
However, the description of the beast in this romance allows us to make
a tentative identification of the model or prototype used by the romance’s
author.
According
to Sponseller’s thesis (citing William Nitze), Perlesvaus “was composed after
1191 and before 1212, presumably soon after 1200.” The romance’s section on the Beast is nicely
summarized by Sponseller thusly:
Riding
through the Lonely Forest, Perlesvaus comes across a beautiful glade with a red
cross positioned in the center. On either side of the clearing is a person: on
one side a white-clad knight and on the other an elegant maiden, each holding a
golden vessel. From the surrounding forest runs a remarkable creature in great
alarm, “for she bore a litter of twelve in her belly which were yelping like a
pack of dogs, and she fled through the glade, terrified by the barking of the
dogs inside of her). She is “as white as new-fallen snow, bigger than a hare
but smaller than a fox”. Perlesvaus “felt great pity for her, for she looked
gentle and very beautiful, with eyes like two emeralds”. The animal approaches
the unnamed knight for help, but receiving none she turns to the forcing the
Jews to realize they had done wrong. Because the Twelve Tribes did not have
faith in their God and later crucified his son, the twelve dogs represent the
doubting tribes: “the twelve dogs are the Jews whom God nourished and who were
born into the Law which He'd established, but never wished to believe in Him or
love Him; instead they crucified Him and broke his body as basely as they
could”. The importance of the number twelve in Christian culture derives from
the twelve disciples of Christ; the fact that the Beast gives birth to this
specific number of wolves links her to Christ’s disciples and makes their symbolic
representation more concrete. Christ submits to the tribes' destruction, just
as the Beast is torn to pieces. Their inability to eat the Beast's flesh
symbolizes the tribes' inability “to partake of the sacrament of His body”.
When
I visualized this scene in my mind, I realized I had come across it
before. In fact, it is an episode from
the Welsh Mabinogion tale, “Manawydan son of Llyr”. In that tale, Pryderi and his hounds follow a
WHITE BOAR into an Otherworld Castle (probably the hill-fort above Ludchurch in
Pembrokeshire). He grasps a golden basin
there and becomes stuck to it. Later his
mother, Rhiannon, while in search of her son, also becomes stuck to this basin. And the red cross in the glade?
Well,
according to John Cule in “Some Early Hospitals in Wales and the Border”,
National Library of Wales Journal, 1977, Winter Volume XX/2, the Templars
(whose red cross was quite distinctive) were most likely present at Templeton
very near Ludchurch:
"There
may have been a hospice of the Templars in the lordship of Narberth. The modern
church of St. John in the village of Templeton was built on the site of an
older building, which had earlier been used as an Unitarian Meeting House. The
Knights of the Temple, who gave the village its name of Templar's Town, may
have possessed land here. When the Templars were suppressed in 1308, their
estates were sequestrated and transferred to the Hospitallers of St. John. At
this time Templeton passed to the Mortimers of Narberth."
In
other words, the original Questing Beast was none other than the white boar,
the knight and lady holding golden vessels were Pryderi and Rhiannon,
respectfully, and the red cross was the mark of the Templars, who had a
religious house between Ludchurch and Narberth.
By
the time we get to the SUITE DE MERLIN, the Beast has undergone a
transformation. It is now “a very large
beast, the most bizarre of form ever seen… Now I see the greatest wonder I have
ever seen. For I have never heard of such a bizarre beast as this one. If it is
marvelous on the outside, it is even more marvelous on the inside. For I can
hear and recognize quite clearly that it has in its body living hounds who are
barking”.
The
small mystery has now become large.
Later still, as demonstrated best by Helmut Nickel in his journal
article WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL WAS THE QUESTING BEAST? (Arthuriana, Vol. 14, No.
2, SUMMER 2004, pp. 66-69), the Questing Beast goes through yet another
transmogrification. Nickel makes a very
good case for identifying the Beast with the giraffe, known to the medieval
world as the camelopard, a word combining camel with leopard, on account of the
giraffe’s spots. And, indeed, some of
the later descriptions of the Beast do match that of the giraffe to an uncanny
degree.
I’m
here quoting from Nickel’s article on the ‘Douce’ and ‘Dagglor’:
“The
detailed description of the Beast’s body from the Prose Tristan is also taken
over by the author of the Roman de Palamedes with the addition that the neck is
like that of an animal called 'Douce in his [Palamedes] language.' In
Perceforest, it is said that the Beast’s strange neck resembles that of an
animal that the Saracens call Dagglor, and it has all the colors of the world… From
this description we can deduce that the Beast was an exotic animal, most likely
from the Saracens' lands. Indeed, the name Douce 'in his [Palamedes'] language'
might give a clue to the Beast's identity. The French doux (fem. douce) means
'sweet, charming, pleasant,' and it is generally thought that an Arabic word
zrf= zurafa meaning 'graceful, nice, sweet' would be the root of 'giraffe.'
However, Arabic scholars insist that this is a false etymology and 'giraffe' is
more likely derived from zrf = zaraffa, which the Arabic-English Lexicon lists
as 'camelopard or giraffe, a certain beast of beautiful make, the fore legs are
longer than its hind legs; said to be called by a name signifying [that] it has
the form of an assemblage of animals, i.e. camel ox-leopard, because it has
resemblances to the camel and the ox and the leopard.' It seems that with the
name Douce the author of the Roman de Palamedes picked the wrong zrf, although
he was on the right track. The long swaying neck of a giraffe can be
word-pictured as that of a serpent? More flattering than that of a camel? The body
with its pattern of irregular spots reminds of the spotted pelt of the leopard,
while its narrow hind quarters and tufted tail are comparable to those of a
lion that also look narrow against its imposingly maned shoulders. Feet 'like a
stag's' or 'like those of an ox' obviously are meant to express that there were
cloven hoofs. Unfortunately, the Arabic-English Lexicon does not yield any
explanation about the animal Dagglor.”
The
solution to the Dagglor (also ‘Dogglor’) mystery was resolved satisfactorily by
Gilles Polizzi in his paper “Deux romans “déguisés” à la Renaissance: le
Chevalier Doré (1541) et Gérard d’Euphrate (1549)” in Réforme Humanisme
Renaissance, 71, pp. 165-178. There he
astutely observes that the forest the Beast inhabits, usually called the forest
‘du Glat’, i.e. the Forest of Barking/Yelping, is in one MS. Called ‘du
Glar’. Thus the supposed Saracen (or
Arabic) Dogglar – otherwise unattested anywhere – is, in fact, a corruption of
‘du Glar’, itself a corruption of ‘du Glat’!
Thus the animal that is called Dogglar is the animal ‘of
barking/yelping’.
NOTE
ON THE DEATH AND DEATH-PLACE OF THE QUESTING BEAST
In
the Arthurian Post-Vulgate Cycle, Palamedes, Perceval and Galahad are the
knights who drive the Beast to a body of water known afterwards as the “Lake of
the Beast”. Here Palamedes slays the
monster with his lance. We are told that
when the Beast felt itself wounded, it
“…
went under the water and began to make such a great tumult all through the lake
that it seemed that all the devils of hell were there in the lake, and it began
to throw and shoot forth such flames on all sides that anyone who saw it would
have thought it one of the greatest marvels in the world. That fire did not last long, but a marvel
resulted from it that still endures there now: that lake began to grow hot and
to boil in such a way that it never stopped boiling, but it boils still and
will boil as long as the world lasts, or so men believe.”
The
situation of the lake itself is described as follows:
“…
they [the knights] entered a deep valley, and in the middle of that valley
there was a small, deep lake. On the bank were the greyhounds; they encircled
the lake on all sides…”
We
are reminded instantly of the avang or addanc (= Welsh afanc) of the Welsh tale
“Peredur son of Efrawc”, who is called the ‘llyn avang’, often translated as
‘Monster of the Lake”. However, there is
no reference in the Peredur story to the boiling lake. This last sounds like a hot or thermal
spring, which the ancients believed was caused by fire within the earth heating
water to the boiling point. And, indeed,
the slaying of the monster in the lake, and the spewing of fire, suggests a
volcanic caldera that later became the scene of a thermal lake.
Wales
has several lakes said to be homes of afancs, but only the pool on the River
Conwy was called Llyn-yr-Afanc. None of
these lakes are “boiling”, however. The
description of the lake highly favors a high mountain body of water, much like
those afanc lakes placed in Snowdonia in Gwynedd.
I
find the lake completely surrounded by hounds particularly intriguing. Why?
Because just a few kilometers north of Llyn Glaslyn, one of the homes of
the afanc, is a mountain lake called Llyn y Cwn, “Lake of the Hounds.” The original name of Glaslyn was Llyn Ffynnon
Las, the “Lake of the Blue Fountain”.
Welsh ffynnon is a borrowing from Latin fons, fontis, and was the
equivalent of aquae
(http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.04.0059%3Aentry%3Dfons&highlight=fountain). Thus the idea that the lake was boiling may
have come about because it bore a name meaning “fountain”.
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