The Apotropaic Function of Celtic Knotwork in the Book

FACULTAD de FILOSOFÍA Y LETRAS
DEPARTAMENTO de FILOLOGÍA INGLESA
Grado en Estudios Ingleses
TRABAJO DE FIN DE GRADO
The Apotropaic Function of Celtic Knotwork
in the Book of Kells
Diego González Hernández
Tutora: Anunciación Carrera de la Red
2014-2015
Abstract
There is a large volume of published studies on the Book of Kells. Naturally
acclaimed for its exceptionally elaborate decoration, so far, however, there has been
little discussion on its knotwork, its intricacy being perhaps too difficult to
conceptualise. The first serious analyses on the structure of Celtic knotwork date
back to Allen and Bain in the first half of the 1900s; those on its function only
include James Trilling’s “Medieval Interlace” (1995), which anticipated its specific
apotropaic function beyond the merely decorative. Through a revision of the
iconography of both full-page portraits and illustrations and an analysis of their
knotwork panels, this dissertation will suggest that knotwork in the Book of Kells (or
the book itself, for that matter) may have been thought to perform an apotropaic
function of protection from evil, for the reader, the community or the book itself,
either through individual contemplation or public display.
KEY WORDS: Book of Kells, Apotropaic Function, Knotwork, Iconography,
Insular Manuscripts, Celtic Ornamental Art
Resumen
Existe un numeroso volumen de publicaciones en torno al Libro de Kells. Admirado
con razón por su ornamentación, de excepcional elaboración, hasta el momento, la
investigación sobre el entrelazado celta que la caracteriza es escasa, tal vez dada la
dificultad que plantea la conceptualización de los nudos. Los primeros análisis serios
que se realizaron sobre la estructura de los nudos celtas datan de la primera mitad del
s. XX; entre los realizados acerca de su función solo se incluye el “Medieval
Interlace” de James Trilling (1995), donde se anticipaba una función apotropaica del
nudo ornamental celta más allá de la meramente decorativa. Por medio de la revisión
de la iconografía presente tanto en retratos como en ilustraciones y del análisis de los
entramados de nudos que contienen, este trabajo propondrá que los nudos
ornamentales celtas del Libro de Kells (diríamos incluso, el propio libro) podrían
haber sido pensados para ejercer una función apotropaica de protección frente al mal,
para el lector, para la comunidad o para el libro en sí, ya fuera a través de su
contemplación en privado o su exhibición pública.
PALABRAS CLAVE: Libro de Kells, función apotropaica, nudo, iconografía,
manuscritos insulares, arte ornamental celta
Contents
Figures
7
Plates
9
Introduction
11
Chapter One:
Knotwork and Interlace: Structure and Function
15
Chapter Two: The Book of Kells, its Structure and Function
23
Chapter Three: The Iconography of the Full-Page Portraits and Illustrations
27
Chapter Four: Knotwork in the Full-Page Portraits and Illustrations
33
Chapter Five: The Apotropaic Function of Celtic Knotwork in the Book of
Kells
39
Conclusion
43
Appendix
45
Works Cited
51
Figures
1. The Plait
16
2. Single Interlace
16
3. Knotwork
17
4. Brass Bowl, Mamluk, 13th c.
18
5. Lindisfarne Gospels, fol. 26V, c.700 AD
18
6. Mihrab in the Friday Mosque of Isfahan, Iran, with plaited
inscription (1310)
7. Cod. Salem. 10.12 (c.800), Heidelberg, Universitätsbibliothek
20
20
Plates
1. Book of Kells, fol. 7v, Virgin and Child with Angels
45
2. Book of Kells, fol. 28v, Portrait of St Matthew
46
3. Book of Kells, fol. 32v, Portrait of Christ
47
4. Book of Kells, fol. 114r, The Arrest of Christ
48
5. Book of Kells, fol. 202v, The Temptation of Christ
49
6. Book of Kells, fol. 291v, Portrait of St John
50
Introduction
Our approach to the field of study of this B.A. Thesis proceeds from general to
particular, from Celtic ornamental art to the most intricate parts of the illuminated
pages of the Book of Kells. Early Irish ornament very rarely occurs without interlace,
in either of its two different varieties, which are the plait and the knot. Such
ornamental knotwork and interlace patterns as they appear in the full-page portraits
and illustrations of the Book of Kells will be the concrete object of study of the
following pages, their possible apotropaic function, their particular focus.
One of the first scholars to interest himself in Celtic plaitwork and knotwork was
John Romilly Allen, who pioneered studies on their structure and composition
devices in 1904, with Celtic Art in Pagan and Christian Times. Afterwards, George
Bain, but mainly his son Ian Bain, elevated the topic of the structure of plaitwork and
knotwork to the qualitative level that it required with their books The Methods of
Construction Celtic Art (1951) and Celtic Knotwork (1986). However, it was not
until 1995, when James Trilling published his article “Medieval Interlace Ornament:
The Making of a Cross-Cultural Idiom,” that Medieval interlace ornament in the
Christian and Islamic traditions was described to perform a function beyond the
decorative, which he defended was apotropaic, that is, turning evil away. His
exemplification of the case with complex interlace in Insular manuscripts went
unnoticed for specialists in Insular manuscripts.
To our knowledge, even though the Book of Kells has inspired speculation since
the 19th century and authors such as François Henry have contributed enormously to
its knowledge, not many studies have examined its knotwork patterns in particular
and none of them has enquired on the possibility that they may have an apotropaic
function as described by Trilling. The two will be the specific objectives of this
research.
The study of the presence and function of knotwork in the Book of Kells will be
developed in four stages: (1) literature review, (2) background and methodology, (3)
analysis of evidence and results, and (4) interpretation of data.
First of all, the different structural types of knotwork in general and their possible
functions (among them, the apotropaic function) will be explained, through a review
of past studies on the structure and use of knotwork. We will show how there are
basically two types of knotwork: plaitwork and knotwork itself, a sophisticated
derivation of the first one that includes so-called ‘breaks’ in the brands of interlace.
Trilling’s article will help us approach apotropaic devices, such as doorways, eyes,
animals, or knotwork, and their two basic mechanisms: attraction and confusion.
Then, the structure and function of the Gospel book will be surveyed, mainly
through Henry’s classical description. The aim is to find a way to limit our analysis
to an appropriate number of examples. Taking into account Trilling’s apotropaic
mechanisms, we will propose to choose full-pages and among them, only those
presenting knotwork and human figures and only those that are full-page miniatures.
That leaves us with four portraits and two illustrations:

Virgin and Child (fol. 7v)

Portrait of St Matthew (fol. 28v)

Portrait of Christ (fol. 32v)

The Arrest of Christ (fol. 114r)

The Temptation of Christ (fol. 202v)

Portrait of St John (fol. 291v)
The central part of the dissertation will be taken up by the study of the six
miniatures, beginning with the iconography and then moving on to knotwork. Many
aspects regarding the function of the book will be found unanswered when the
analysis of miniatures is limited to iconography and disregards knotwork.
Only then will come our speculation on the possibility that the knotwork in those
illuminations may reveal their protective function and that of the whole book.
The results will be presented in five chapters: (1) Knotwork and Interlace:
Structure and Function. (2) The Book of Kells, its Structure and Function, (3) The
Iconography of the Full-Page Portraits and Illustrations, (4) Knotwork in the FullPage Portraits and Illustrations, (5) The Apotropaic Function of Celtic Knotwork in
the Book of Kells. We have tried to illustrate them appropriately. In all, seven figures
12
and six plates have been included in the text or attached to an appendix for
illustration purposes.
The thesis we intend to defend here is simple: the possibility that knotwork in the
Book of Kells (or the book itself, for that matter) may have sought to perform an
apotropaic function of protection from evil, for the reader, the community, or the
book itself, either though individual contemplation, public display or treasuring.
13
Chapter One
Knotwork and Interlace: Structure and Functions
For several centuries now, Celtic art has been a matter of interest to antiquarians,
historians and thousands of aficionados, very much in the British Isles. Since the
seventeenth century, literature was written about every new object or site found,
describing its most important features or attempting to explain its meaning in British
or Irish history. As in the rest of Europe, their curiosity was the basis of a tradition
that led to nineteenth-century studies relating to the origins and spread of Celtic
culture and the aesthetic appreciation of its art, including decorative elements.
The main subject area of this B.A. Thesis is Celtic ornament, and in particular,
interlace and knotwork. They had been studied before and appreciated for their
artistic appeal, like the rest of manifestations of Celtic decoration, but it was not until
the twentieth century that attention was paid to the structure of their composition and
their function.
The principal studies of these two aspects are the main focus of this introductory
literature review.
1.1 Structure
It is generally considered that the first scholar to study the structural features of
Celtic knotwork was the British archaeologist John Romilly Allen. His book Celtic
Art in Pagan and Christian Times (1904) on the origin and development of Celtic art
in Great Britain and Ireland made a very important contribution by “classifying the
patterns that occur on the early Christian monuments of Scotland, England, Wales,
and Ireland” (xvii). It introduced the concept of ‘break’ to distinguish between
plaitwork, mostly used in Egyptian, Roman and Greek decorative art, and knotwork,
a later Celtic development, according to him, where the cords forming the pattern are
cut and the loose ends joined to make new pairs.
Half a century later, George Bain rediscovered the constructive principles of
Celtic knotwork in his book The Methods of Construction of Celtic Art (1951). He
did this even though or because he disagreed with Allen’s idea that the classical
world was the basis of European artistic achievement: “the evidences available show
that the key patterns of Britain and Ireland arrived many centuries before the
Romans” (George Bain 73). His book was a textbook to teach secondary-school art
students to produce their own designs. But the simple rules and methods of Celtic
knotwork it contained and the hundreds of designs that could be developed from
them inspired the revival of the art in the 70s, after the book was reprinted in 1971.
They also inspired his son, Iain Bain, to write Celtic Knotwork (1986), a book
that gave a valuable classification and description of the different types of interlaced
ornamental constructions, at a time Aidan Meehan was preparing his own for
Knotwork: The Secret Method of the Scribes (1991).
According to Iain Bain, there were two basic structural patterns in the art of
Celtic knotwork: plaitwork and knotwork itself, with interlace as the basis of the two.
A plait (Fig. 1) could be described as “a
cut-out from an overall spread of grid cells,
the cut cords being rejoined with short
curves” (Iain Bain 38). This elementary
construction, usual in Egyptian, Roman and
Greek art, would be “the basis of virtually all
Figure 1: The Plait (Iain Bain 38)
Celtic knotwork” (38). In plaitwork, the cords
may or may not form one single path, but they appear to be unbroken.
In the interlace that results (Fig. 2),
“the overs and unders [ … ] reverse from
axis to axis” (Iain Bain 41). That underand-over rule is the basic condition of all
interlace, together with the apparent or
real continuity of the path.
Figure 2: Single Interlace (Iain Bain 41)
16
In knotwork (Fig. 3) the important feature
is the presence of ‘breaks’, either in vertical or
horizontal axes, and their corresponding
‘repairings’. These are arranged to create
recognizable
patterns
that
are
usually
repeated. Such an “appearance of loose
knots”, as described by Iain Bain, “illustrates
Figure 3: Knotwork (Iain Bain 42)
the illusory nature of Celtic knotwork” (42): it
looks different depending on where the eye rests.
In his introduction, besides correcting some of his father’s methods of knotwork
construction, Iain Bain seems to approve of Allen’s theory that plaitwork would be
the earlier way of creating ornamental constructions and Celtic knotwork an
evolution from them (10-12).
James Trilling rejected such correlation of structure and chronology in his article
‘Medieval Interlace Ornament: The Making of a Cross-Cultural Idiom’ (1995). He
maintained that it was not useful to determine the history of diffusion of interlace
through an analysis of its structure, because “[v]ariations are almost infinite”
(‘Medieval Interlace Ornaments’ 61). Instead, he defended that the main lines of
development depended on whether those variations formed compartments, usually
circular, or not, or incorporated their own boundaries or not.
Therefore, he proposed four fundamental types of interlace (medallion/selfcontained, medallion/extensible, complex/self-contained and complex/extensible)
that could be traced back in history.
The earliest occurrence of medallion interlace (Fig. 4) goes back to the first
century AD and remained much the same by AD 400 and all through the Middle
Ages (‘Medieval Interlace Ornament’ 61). It can be self-contained or extensible, that
is, joined to others to form a polygonal or circular shape; the fact that the medallions
could be left completely empty inside leads the author to assume that the medallion
interlace structure was “attractive in itself” (‘Medieval Interlace Ornament’ 62).
17
Figure 4: Brass Bowl,
FigureMamluk, 13th c.
(Trilling, “Medieval Interlace Ornament” 68)
Figure 5: Lindisfarne Gospels, f. 26V, c.700 AD
(Trilling, “Medieval Interlace Ornament” 65)
18
Complex interlace dates back from Late Antiquity, may be found in Coptic
tapestries and was used very frequently in fifth-century Rome, also with patterns that
could be either self-contained or extensible. It happened that by the seventh and
eighth centuries, Islamic sophisticated them and Insular artists gave them
unpredictable structures (Fig. 5).
Clearly, Trilling moved away from structural and aesthetical practices. Mildred
Budny tried to balance the two in her “Deciphering the Art of Interlace” (2001). She
described interlace patterns and their variations in several ways: according to the
width and length of a network, with ‘odd’ or ‘even’ rows, oriented to the right or to
the left; according to the ends of the lines, continuous or with loose ends; according
to the presence of breaks, their kinds and distributions (185). At the same time,
Budny’s theory emphasized the aesthetic, giving no particular stress to any other
function. In that way, breaks were defined not as cuts properly but as “deviations in
the courses of strands around the expected crossing points” and the rhythm of their
variations was seen to define the style of the artist (195). Her work preferred to
ignore suggestions like James Trilling’s that “[m]ost of the world’s ornament was
designed for some specific context, and cannot be appreciated fully unless we
consider its relation to the functional form it supports” (The Language of Ornament
62).
1.2 Function
The question of functionality is no doubt problematic. Unfortunately it is not
possible to find a definitive solution and one of the reasons for it is that the
civilizations that produced the ornamental constructions in the past did not leave any
written testimony regarding it. Decorative or magic functions of knots are always
assumed, but scholars tend to avoid entering that ground since knotwork is difficult
to conceptualise and its function too frequently simplified in connection with artistic
exuberance or the esoteric.
James Trilling is the exception. As pointed out earlier, he preferred to think about
interlace not only in decorative terms. If “the aesthetic concerns of East and West, of
19
the fifth century and the fifteenth, are different enough in most other ways, why
should they be so clearly united here?”, he asked, to try to explain the continuity
throughout history of interlace patterns (‘Medieval Interlace Ornament’ 66). He
studied the way and the specific contexts in which interlace appears in two of the
biggest cultures, Christianity and Islam, and concluded that “associations beyond the
merely formal can account for its longevity” (66).
In Early Christianity, interlace occurred most of the times near or in doorways
(73-75). This meant real entrance doors to houses or churches and windows, but also
metaphorical doorways like grave markers, the front and back covers of manuscripts,
their frontispieces, carpet pages or initial letters, or even crosses, the cross being
itself “a symbolic doorway” and “the symbol of Christ”, who says ‘I am the door’
(75). In the Muslim culture, complex interlace appears in similar places: mihrabs,
entrances to shrines and places of worship, Qur’an covers and frontispieces, openings
of Suras, or even plaited script (76-78).
Figure 6: Mihrab in the Friday Mosque of Isfahan,
Iran, with plaited inscription (1310) (Trilling 77)
Figure 7: Heidelberg, Universitätsbibliothek, Cod.
Salem. 10.12 (c.800) (Trilling 73)
In Trilling’s view, all this meant that besides the ornamental, interlace
constructions could have a protective function. He thought it could not be irrelevant
that, in Christianity, in a high percentage of the cases, they were found on these
‘thresholds’ accompanied by crosses, the symbol of protection par excellence for
20
Christians. He also found many instances of the same talismanic alliance with
religion in Islam, for instance, in interlaced script, “with interlace as the first line of
defense and the religious, especially Qur’anic, text as the second” (77).
To this additional purpose of protection he gave the adjective ‘apotropaic’, “from
the Greek apotropaios,” he clarified, “[which] means ‘turning away evil’” (70). With
it he evoked those rituals, wands, charms, amulets, inscriptions, or images, humorous
or wild (like the Gorgon with exaggerated eyes), which were commonly used in
ancient Egypt and Greece, and their aim to ward off evil or harm in whatever kind:
formless (evil eye, envy, the loss of blessing, etc.) or embodied in the shape of a
demon, witch, or any other supernatural creature.
His stand was that complex interlace fitted easily into “the mind-set of amulets
and the evil-eye” (73) and identified its two principal methods of protection. The first
was ‘confusion and indeterminability’. Nobody would be able to do any harm if
unable to untie the knot, because its ends were concealed, or to count its uncountable
cords, parts, and windings. The second one was ‘attraction’. It explained why
amulets were often made of shining materials. They worked “by attracting and then
trapping or confusing the eye” (71).
This applied to interlace compositions of Insular manuscripts, like those found on
the Lindisfarne Gospels (Fig. 5). As explained in the following passage, they
operated as “a labyrinth for the eye” (71), deceiving the eye and confusing the mind:
The more crossing-points it has, and the closer together they are, the more likely a viewer is to lose
track of the pattern. Increasing the difficulty still further, an interlace band may deviate from what an
overview of the pattern suggests will be its course, even looping back to take up the pattern from a
different direction. This means that there is no obvious sequence or framework into which to fit the
details, or else there appears to be such a sequence but it is deceptive, and has nothing to do with the
actual structure of the ornament. Color changes may have a similar effect, if they highlight arbitrarily
chosen segments of the pattern instead of individual bands. (71)
Whether it was the physical manuscript that was defended from harm or the
reader or text itself, from being misread, really does not matter. But it seemed to him
that “an understanding of the ways in which interlace could operate with (and […]
21
without) the cross is necessary to understand its extraordinary diffusion and
longevity” (75).
This dissertation would like to test the soundness of Trilling’s theory on the
apotropaic function of Celtic knotwork and in the case of Insular manuscripts. It will
do so by looking at the most renowned of the Insular codices, the Book of Kells.
22
Chapter Two
The Book of Kells, Its Structure and Function
To inquire on the apotropaic function of Celtic knotwork, this Thesis will start by
analysing its occurrence in the Book of Kells (Dublin, Trinity College Library, MS
58). Given the general profusion of ornament and illumination in the manuscript,
some selection is obviously needed. Let us look at the book’s structure and function
first, to decide on a choice of miniatures that may serve the aim of our future
analysis.
The Book of Kells has been discussed and reproduced since the middle of the
nineteenth century. With the exception of early commentators, Françoise Henry is
considered by most contemporary authors as the steadiest and greatest contributor to
its study. Her work of the 1940s on Irish art on the Early Christian period culminated
with the study “The Book and Its Decoration”, included in The Book of Kells (1974),
whose essential parameters regarding the dating of the codex between 760-820, the
Iona/Kells hypothesis for its origin, its different hands, painters, general structure,
decoration and function of the book, remain basically unchallenged.
The last three aspects are of special importance for this study, which will follow
Henry’s explanations as a starting point, leaving aside the many contributions
provided by Peter Fox (1990), the Kells conference proceedings (1992) and Bernard
Meehan (1994), in order not to overextend these preliminaries.
2.1 Structure
According to Henry (152), the book is incomplete for about thirty folios. Up to
ten could be missing from the beginning. The manuscript follows generally the usual
form of early Gospel books. It opens with a list of Hebrew names contained in the
Gospels with translation, though only a final section of it is preserved. Next come the
usual canon-tables (a concordance of Gospel sections after the Eusebian tradition),
surprisingly unnumbered, the conventional Breves causae (summaries of the text by
chapter), also unnumbered, and Argumenta (prefaces on the evangelists) of each of
the Gospels. All these are prefaced to the four canonical Gospels of Matthew, Mark,
Luke, and John in a modified Vulgate translation and copied in at least three different
hands, wanting three decorated folios and, before the end, the Passion chapters of St.
John’s Gospel. Unfortunately the colophon is also missing so that we lack the
important information of date and place of origin of the manuscript.
The pages of the book measure an average of 330 x 240 mm and were heavily
trimmed by a nineteenth-century binder. All of them are decorated except two
(Henry 163). Initials, little animals, letters filled with colour, human or zoomorphic
figures twisted on them, spirals, foliage, trumpets, or full-page illuminations, are the
product of three artists. Structurally speaking, the most important ones are some of
the initials and, above all, the full-page illuminations.
Before each Gospel there are always three highly decorated pages: a cross page
with the symbols of the four Evangelists, a portrait of the evangelist (though the
portraits of Mark and Luke are now missing) and a full-page incipit. A portrait of
Christ, a great eight-circled cross, and a second great initial page also precede the
Gospel according to St Matthew. In addition, the first eight pages of the canon tables
are decorated and there are also full-page illustrations such as the Virgin and Child
(generally taken as a portrait), the Temptation of Christ and the Arrest of Christ,
interpolated in the text with no apparent connection with it.
What does this basic structure tell about the function of the book?
2.2 Function
Henry’s comment with respect to it is very direct:
[T]he fantastic lavishness of the decoration and the unusual large size of the Book show clearly that it
was an altar-book [emphasis mine], made to be used for liturgical reading and probably intended to be
displayed open as a sumptuous ornament during ceremonies when pomp was specially required. (153)
The Book of Kells is altar-book intended for reading or display. Henry does not
develop this point. In fact, Carol Farr’s The Book of Kells: Its Function and Audience
(1997) confirmed that still in the 1990s, questions on its function and audience
remained “substantially unaddressed in modern scholarship” (13) and dared propose
her own theory.
24
Carr coincided with Henry in that the book was a liturgical document, that it was
meant to be made clearly visible and it was made to be read in public (41). Her
theory was that it was read in mass or the divine offices of the Holy Week. It would
be shown on the altar first, open to one illustration or decorated incipit, then taken
from the altar for reading, or perhaps in procession. Her detailed study of the two
illustrations, the Temptation of Christ and the Arrest of Christ, led her to conclude
that the book’s structure had to follow some form of pre-Roman liturgy “with a welldeveloped cycle of readings for Lent and the Holy Week” (156).
But critics like Suzanne Lewis (2002) claimed that even if the function of the
Book of Kells was liturgical, the fact that, as noted earlier, there are no chapter
divisions, no numbered canons, and above all that there are multiple copyist errors all
throughout, implies, with George Henderson, that the book would be “intended to be
displayed and seen rather than read” (520-21). This could reinforce the importance of
the images of the book and even more of images that need not be narrative.
It is very strange that Carr did not mention interlace ornaments or knotwork at
all, even though she spoke of the cultural context for the book’s production as that of
culture wishing “to make Christian text and Latin language relevant to themselves
and their tradition of learning” (14).
If we wish to explore the apotropaic, protective use of knotwork in the Book of
Kells, we could start where she stopped. The pages by the ‘Goldsmith’, that of eight
circles and the Chi-Rho, for instance, may be two readily deemed apotropaic, in
Trilling’s terms. Looking at portraits and narrative illustrations may be more
challenging. The interplay of religious imagery, human representation, knotwork and
even narrative in them may render the task more difficult, but may perhaps
illuminate better the complexity and richness of that society’s ‘dynamic blending’ of
Christian and secular and ‘creativity’ in producing new religious forms, to
paraphrase the words of a commentator (Lewis 521).
25
Chapter Three
The Iconography of the Full-Page Portraits and Illustrations
Numerous folios in the Book of Kells present full-page images: one carpet page,
three four-symbols pages, twelve decorated incipits, and images of human figures.
This last group incarnates one of the most remarkable features of the Book of Kells
and will be the concern of this chapter. It embraces six illustrations in total:
1. Virgin and Child with Angels (fol. 7v)
2. Portrait of St Mathew (fol. 28v)
3. The Enthroned Christ (fol. 32v)
4. The Arrest of Christ (fol. 114r)
5. The Temptation of Christ (fol. 202v)
6. Portrait of St John (fol. 291v)
Two of them represent the manuscript’s surviving evangelist portraits; the other
four depict Christ, either in portraits or narrative scenes. Of these full-page
illuminations, only two can be called ‘illustrations’: the Temptation of Christ and the
Arrest of Christ; the rest may be better termed ‘portraits’.
The nature and origin of these Kells portraits and illustrations is very uncertain
and their artistic appeal very strong, so it is natural that interpretations on them are
abundant. They still need investigation but a review of these six miniatures and their
modern commentaries might help focus our search properly and provide us with
ideas on the pending question of the aprotropaic use of knotwork.
3.1 Virgin and Child (fol. 7v)
In this portrait, the first full-page illustration in the book, the Virgin Mary is
enthroned and with the child Jesus on her lap, attended by angels (Plate 1). It was
most probably made independently from the Gospel text, as indicated by its blank
overleaf, and to have been placed at this point, facing the first lines of the Breves
causae of Matthew, by a later binder, probably in place of an Adoration of the Magi,
if we consider the incipit Nativitas XPI in Bethlem Iudeae that it faces (Henry 172).
It has been classified among the group of portraits because it lacks narrative
content and resembles the evangelist portraits, the shape of its border included.
The miniature is considered one of the earliest representations of the Virgin in
Western manuscripts, if not the earliest. After an Eastern style, the Virgin sits with an
immobile pose with the Child on her lap turning towards her and holding her hand,
in a pose which is reminiscent of Isis holding Horus, in Henry’s view (187). What is
remarkable, according to this author, is how the child’s affectionate gesture contrasts
the “absolutely hieratic” expression on his mother’s face, “with eyes staring at the
onlooker”, a feature for which she found no parallel in Coptic Madonnas (187).
Four angels are attending them after the Eastern liturgical custom. The two at the
top and the one at the bottom left carry objects which are probably ‘flabella’,
liturgical fans used to protect the chalice from dust and flies; the one in the lower
right corner may hold a branch of hyssop, the plant used to sprinkle holy water.
The group of six human busts contained in the panel that breaks the frame finds
no easy explanation. It has been suggested that the onlookers may be indicating with
their glance the correct direction in which to read the Gospel (Simpson n. pag.).
3.2 Portrait of St Matthew (fol.28v)
This image is situated in the preliminaries to the Gospel according to St Matthew
(Plate 2). It is assumed that it was planned to have a blank back, since it is bound on
a stub, as a single page.
It belongs to a common type of book image, the author portrait, full-faced and
sitting. The Evangelist holds a book with a decorated cover. Henry noted that his
holding it in his left hand is unusual, as “full-face Insular Evangelists generally hold
their books with both hands” (183), but this appears to be inconsequential.
Otherwise, the iconography here is very similar to other Insular evangelist portraits,
the symbols of the other three are surrounding.
The portrait is framed by an arch supported in columns with circular bases, in
Henry’s words “strangely reminiscent of the architecture of the canon tables” (184).
28
3.3 Portrait of Christ (fol. 32v)
The enthroned Christ on fol. 32v (Plate 3) is also painted on a folio that has no
text on its reverse side.
The fact that Christ is depicted supporting a book in his hand grouped it among
the evangelist portraits until 1940s, when the figure was definitively identified as the
Saviour. The idea was supported by unmistakable attributes: “the cross above the
figure’s head, the peacock (a symbol of resurrection and immortality), the vine
(signifying the Eucharist), the colour of the vestments, the chalice-like cups, and the
four ‘angelic’ beings” (Harbison 181). Today the miniature is generally interpreted
as an enthroned Christ.
Interpreting the surrounding figures is more problematic: two winged angels; one
figure that does seem to have feathers, unlike the upper figure on the right. This
unevenness did not prevent Henry from identifying the four as archangels (185);
Harbison for his part suggested the two on the top could be Peter and Paul after Late
antique Roman representations of raised Christ (183-184); Farr thought it could be
the Christ of the Second Coming, in the heavenly Temple, holding a codex (not the
scroll of the seven seals) as in the Codex Amiatinus (145).
None would disclaim that the stalk was the vine, which with the peacocks
symbolised respectively the Eucharist and the resurrection that is to come.
3.4 The Arrest of Christ (fol.114r)
This scene is difficult to contextualise within the textual environment into which
it was inserted, all the more since it clearly remains in its originally intended position
in the manuscript, Matthew 26.30. The words of the precise verse are inscribed in the
tympanum of the arch: “Et hymno dicto exierunt in montem Olivet” (“and after
reciting a hymn they went to the Mount of Olives”). Below them is the frontal
standing figure of Christ, with arms outstretched creating an X shape, flanked by two
figures in profile, each one grasping Christ by his forearm.
According to Harbison (186), this was first interpreted literally, as the Saviour
walking to His passion and death with his supporters, and later, as the arrest of
29
Christ, the identification that has remained unquestioned until fairly recently.
However, the fact that Christ’s arrest is not described until seventeen verses later has
led scholars recently to see in the illustration a more general reference to the passion
or specifically to the crucifixion (Farr 105).
Christ’s pose is in effect mysterious. The meanings attributed to it are many: His
hands are uplifted, like those in prayer represented in the catacombs, or in penance,
as in Irish Penitentials, or in victory, like Moses at the battle against the Amachelites.
Others follow Suzanne Lewis who interpreted the chiastic figure of Christ’s grasped
on either side as the breaking of the bread in the Eucharist rite (in Farr 132). The two
flanking figures are mysterious too and interpretations have varied from Christ’s
disciples, through his captors, to anthropomorphised olive trees (Farr 111).
The three stand beneath an arch, decorated on the top with beast heads in
opposition and supported on columns of ornamented panels.
3.5 The Temptation of Christ (fol. 202v)
This illustration (Plate 5) depicts the third and final episode on the story
according to Luke 4: 9-12 in which Christ is at the pinnacle of the temple in
Jerusalem, being urged by the devil to fling down to prove that he is the Son of God.
It is known to remain in its originally intended position at the beginning of the
episode “because it is painted in an original bifolium that is completely secured in its
place”, as Farr reminded us (52). So its identification seems to count with general
agreement. However, the associative meanings attributed to it have been numerous.
First, the choice of subject seems incongruent. The temptation is a far less
important episode in the life of Christ than baptism and other life events that are not
illustrated in the Book of Kells and in liturgy it would never receive as much
prominence as other crucial points in the narrative of the passion (Farr 52).
Furthermore, its iconography is unusual. It is one of the earliest representations
of the scene to include the devil (Harbison 187). Its image of the devil is shocking
per se. Henry (81) has pointed to its ‘Bizantine’ nature. It is shocking especially
because of its blackness, a colour not commonly used in the Book of Kells. The
30
figure of Christ is also unusual. It is not a full-length standing figure, but a
monumental bust, and the representation of the Temple is also singular because it
resembles much more an Irish small church than any temple in the city of Jerusalem.
Interestingly, a crowd of onlookers stand behind Christ to contradict the gospel story
and there are still more figures within the temple and standing.
3.6 Portrait of St John (fol. 291v)
In the portrait of St John (Plate 6), the pattern of previous portraits is repeated: a
full-face sitting figure holding a book. Like Matthew, John sits in a large chair that is
covered with draperies. He also has a nimbus, though more elaborate, and holds a
book in his left hand, while his right hand grasps a long quill ready to be dipped in
ink and start writing. Henry stressed the unusual nature of these elements with
respect to other full-face Insular Evangelists (183).
In the outer part of the elaborate frame that contains the portrait, there is the
figure of a haloed man with arms outstretched, whose head fists and feet emerge
behind, but due to the rebinding from the nineteenth century of the book the head
was unfortunately trimmed but the early-nineteenth century binder and the identity of
the character remains a mystery, that Henry tried to solve in exegesis: it is “obviously
the Word” (194). This and other images like it,
are not fully revealed to the eye; they appear over a frame or a letter, more suggested than described,
the painter trying to convey by this device the unknowable character of God. (194).
31
Chapter Four
Knotwork in the Full-Page Portraits and Illustrations
At this point of the dissertation and having already analysed the iconography of the
full-page portraits and illustrations of the Book of Kells, it is time to focus on the
knotwork panels present in them. The aim now is to make a first approach onto their
varied nature and describe them in relation to the figures and imagery examined in
the previous chapter.
Very often we are overcome with wonder when looking at knotwork. It appears
to be beyond our understanding. Nevertheless, one of the most common
characteristics of complex interlace is the display of different designs in independent
panels. Approaching them panel by panel may simplify our task. Every full-page
miniature we will study is in fact comprised of panels of different shapes (triangular,
square, rectangular, cross-shaped, circular, semi-circular, annular) and ornamented
with different designs (knotwork, key and step patterns, spirals, animals, scrolls).
The characteristics of knotwork must be also heeded. According to Iain Bain they
are the strong diagonals, the pointed spade look, the consistency of interlacing, the
repetition of patterns, the appearance of continuity of path, the spiral look (54-55) It
is to be noted, however, that those characteristics can vary depending on the number
of cords, the number and types of breaks, the use of short, middle or long curves, the
occurrence of single or double interlacing, the presence of closed or loose ends, the
thin or thick adjustment of the cord lines. Thus is defined the nature of each pattern.
Our analysis will bear in mind panel display, the common features of knotwork
and their variants.
4.1 Virgin and Child (fol. 7v)
In the Virgin and Child portrait (Plate 1) the presence of knotwork and interlace
is relatively scarce. There are four irregular panels at the corners outside of the
frame. Only the one on the upper left is filled with interlace; of the other three, one
seems devoid of interlacing or has been erased by damp, while the other two enclose
floral motives. The double interlace in the upper left corner provides a sense of
symmetry and continuity, since the breaks create recognizable patterns that appear to
mirror each other. The fact that they are single-coloured leads the glance through an
apparently unbroken line. The case of the zoomorphic figures intertwined along the
rectangular frame of the miniature is the opposite. The interlace there presents
horizontal and vertical breaks arranged to create consecutive mid-grid repeats, but
the sense of vivid mobility commands throughout, over the monotone, repetitive
pattern behind. It is the effect of the different thicknesses of the bands and the
diverse colours: they create different ‘looks’ depending on whether the eye rests. The
three-half circles, Farr made us note, “create a cross-shaped configuration, completed
visually by the throne and body of the Virgin” (144). The peacocks and human
figures they contain are knotted from beards and beaks to legs and feet. They share
the same shades of colours of nature and create the same sense of life and movement
as the interlacing within the frame. The contrast of such vividness and liveliness
within the panels with the hieratic pose of the Virgin and stare of the angels is very
powerful.
4.2 Portrait of St Matthew (fol.28v)
In the Portrait of Saint Matthew (Plate 2) the use of knotwork and interlace is
much more abundant. There are four different panels in the corners in mirror
symmetry: the one in the upper-left and the one in the lower-right show step patterns,
and the one in the lower-left and the one in the upper-right show grids of knotwork.
Again they are painted in golden yellow and resemble not only metalwork, but each
other so closely that their regularity, continuity of path, consistency of interlace is
made more apparent, enhanced also by the close adjustment of the thin cords. The
four frame the portrait tightly, as if embossed onto the parchment. To this sense of
robustness contribute also the four half-circles and the cross-shaped configuration
they make. The spirals they enclose echo those in the bent columns flanking Saint
Matthew, supporting the arch above his head, with a new golden yellow key pattern
in dark background. The frame in this portrait is filled with zoomorphic concentric
long curve rings (mixed with intertwined thin lines), painted yellow, blue, red, white,
but this never regularly nor consistently. The effect of such use of colour is that the
34
eye can rest here or there and will always be deceived: each unit individually looks
different even though their patterns are equal.
4.3 Portrait of Christ (fol. 32v)
The structure of the Portrait of Christ (Plate 3) is almost identical to that of St
Matthew’s portrait, yet the whole effect is much more colourful. Here the panel at
the upper-left corner contains knotwork while the other three include step patterns.
The four semicircular patterns forming the cross-shaped configuration outside of the
frame are very much alike each other, the only variant being the use of double or
single interlacing. The remarkable thing here is that in both corner panels and halfcircle panels there are flat-shaded surfaces. Some are formed after space has been left
open on the knotwork grid, other are merely the coloured units forming the step
patterns. This confers the whole portrait a certain enamelled, stained-glassed look,
echoed by the colours on the feathers of the peacocks, also in the columns supporting
the arch above Christ’s head. There the knots are consistently broken up into
repeated units, this time alternating the same colour sequences. The feeling of
spaciousness, clarity, and order that all this conveys is confirmed by the use of colour
in the zoomorphic spirals within the larger outer frame: the continuity in the
sequencing of colours is clearly visible. Most importantly, to highlight the brightness
of colours and of light in this portrait, the empty space of the two triangular panels on
either side of the arch, tinted in white, transforms the background into a glass or
mirror surface.
4.4 The Arrest of Christ (fol.114r)
The illustration most generally known as the Arrest of Christ (Plate 4) is by a
different painter. Its layout differs notably from that of the portraits. There is nothing
like the usual closed rectangular frame with securing panels at the corners and a
panelled background. Here the central figures are almost in the open, exclusively
sheltered by an arch, with very intricate angular pattern, combining golden yellow
lines over a black background, and the columns where it is supported. At the apex of
this arch, there are two lion heads with tongues intertwined. The cross-shaped
capitals where it rests present knotwork not with short, thickly adjusted bands, but
35
with long, thinly adjusted sweetened curves, intertwined with thin cord lines which
form a different path. The simplicity of this pattern is reiterated in each one of the
several nearly disconnected patterns into which the columns are broken up on their
way down to the bases. These panels making up the columns are rectangular and
quadrangular, with colourful combinations of frames and cords. As a group, they
constitute a whole repertoire of single, double interlace, key patterns, thin and thick
lines, compact concentric curves, combined in stunning simplicity and conveying a
sense of lightness. The feeling of capaciousness of space and openness in this
miniature is very straightforward.
4.5 The Temptation of Christ (fol. 202v)
Something similar applies to the illustration of the Temptation of Christ, by the
same artist (Plate 5). It is a very open scene. There is nothing like a continuous
rectangular frame enclosing it. Instead, there is something more like a doorway: two
columns with cross-shaped bases and capitals supporting a threshold with two
winged angels hovering above it. Not surprisingly, interlace occurs only within the
columns and nowhere else. It is complex knotwork with bird forms, in different
colours, fills in the space within the capitals and bases. In the columns there are two
patterns of double-interlace. The golden yellow of its thin lines, with no interplay
with other colours, their very thin adjustment, the little emphasized background
crosses, again place knotwork on a second level. The two rectangular designs in the
Temple repeat knots in succession or display geometrical key patterns on a very low
key. The narrative scene takes the protagonism.
4.6 Portrait of St John (fol. 291v)
In the fourth portrait, the Portrait of St John (Plate 6) the main interlace
constructions are part of the frame of the illumination. At the four corners there is a
combination of square and triangular grid units forming a central quadrangle
surrounded by angular knotwork. In the four blue cross-shaped panels forming a
cross-shaped configuration, to the left and right of St John and above and below him,
there are four different panels of double-interlacing. To be highlighted is the bottom
panel where the background crosses can be very clearly seen formed by the pointed
36
spade ends. In it different looks are offered depending on where the eye rests and
where breaks and repairs are introduced. The four rectangular panels uniting the four
crosses and completing the frame are not very emphasized, so that the crosses may
be seen properly. They present, however, key patterns and a contrast of colour and
shape. St John’s crown is made of an annular panel filled by repeated patterns of
knots with a circular design. The choice of panel shapes and geometrical designs in
the ornament is so very wide and the technique so precious that in itself it could
teach every single aspect about the structure of knotwork.
37
Chapter Five
The Apotropaic Function of Knotwork in the Book of Kells
This chapter will recapitulate the evidence gathered from our previous analysis of the
iconography and knotwork patterns in the full-page portraits and illustrations in the
Book of Kells. In order to do so, it will take as a guide the most common occurrences
of apotropaic devices, as described by Trilling. First and foremost, (a) doorways, real
or symbolic; next, (b) the representation of eyes, stern and wide open, besides the
depiction of apotropaic animals; and last but not least, (c) the depiction of Christ and
the Christian cross, along with the incarnate presence of evil.
There cannot be any doubt that many elements in the iconography of full-page
portraits and illustrations would respond to the main characteristics of apotropaic
design, but how may the presence of knotwork in them imply a protective apotropaic
function in itself and for the Book of Kells more generally?
First of all, the doorways. To begin with, the canons that start at fol. 1r and
continue through fol. 5r are painted under sumptuous arcades. Henry noted how such
a pictorial effort is unusual, when compared to the majority of Insular Gospel-books
which merely have their lists framed by ornamental bands (167). This, coupled with
the fact that they are unnumbered and thus made useless for liturgical use, leaves
room for hypothesising another aim, that of becoming a proper apotropaic doorway
for a Gospel-book. The abundant use of knotwork in such architectural framing may
account for that as well. Next, all of the full-page illuminations analysed are situated
in the book as prefatory matter or at the opening of the Gospels. Even if through later
binding, the Virgin and Child illumination is placed facing the first lines of the
Breves causae of Matthew, and so among the preliminaries of the Book. The fact that
the onlookers may be indicating with their glance the correct direction in which to
read the Gospel, also suggests the illumination is concerned to initiate the reader in
his task. The Portrait of St Matthew is situated in the preliminaries to the Gospel
according to St Matthew; that of St John, in the preliminaries to the Gospel according
to St John. As we have seen before of all the six illuminations, the evangelist
portraits are those which have the most abundant use of knotwork. Most importantly,
too, they are situated facing incipit pages which are lavishing, and almost
exclusively, decorated with knotwork. The depiction of the Temptation of Christ also
faces a full-page incipit on fol. 203r, beginning Luke’s narrative of the Temptation;
the other illustration, the so-called ‘Arrest’ carries in its reverse side a full-page,
elaborately bordered and decorated. The apotropaic context for knotwork in the
opening doorways to the text is thus proved.
All of the miniatures studied include the depiction of some kind of doorway or
threshold framing the central figures or scene. In the case portrait of St Matthew, the
portrait is framed by an arch supported in columns with circular bases. Henry’s
finding them “strangely reminiscent of the architecture of the canon tables” (184)
may in this apotropaic context be found less “strange”. In the case of the Arrest, this
is very clear. The three central figures stand beneath an arch and supported on
columns of ornamented panels, and so happens in the case of the Temptation of
Christ, that there is no rectangular frame but two columns with cross-shaped bases
and capitals supporting an outlined threshold. It is very notable that here interlace
occurs only on the columns here, and nowhere else, the typical context for the
earliest occurrences of Eastern and Western apotropaic interlace patterns, as we also
saw in the canon tables.
Additionally, some of the six illustrations evoke episodes or scenes in the life of
Christ that pertain some starting or transitional episode. The Virgin and Child was
placed in place of the Nativity, the beginning of the life of Christ; the Arrest of Christ
is contextualised in a symbolic doorway: the beginning of the Passion as a passage
into Resurrection.
Second, one of the most shocking effects when looking at the human
representations in the illuminations is the look in their eyes. Their eyes are big and
take a huge area of the face, and apart from that, are extremely open. The Virgin
stares on the onlooker, Christ has staring blue eyes, as if to petrify him, in case he
intended to do any harm. That is an usual apotropaic device, which may be said to be
shared by the animals depicted in our miniatures and even the angels: they also bear
a penetrating or, one could say, repulsive glance. The flabella carried on the hand of
40
the angels, or the hyssop, used to protect the chalice or sprinkle holy water, are no
doubt symbols of purity and therefore serve here as well as averters of evil.
Their relation of their function with that of knotwork may be understood to be
one of replacement: it is very significant that these elements turn up precisely in the
portrait illuminations that is less profusely ornamented with knotwork. If the
protection of knotwork is there, that of the glance or the apotropaic devices can be
less emphasized. In the case of those portraits with an abundance of knotwork and no
presence of any other apotropaic devise, other than the stare of the Evangelist, suffice
it to say that the more intricate and beautiful the knot, the more easily the onlooker’s
eye will be trapped in its labyrinth.
Third, in the two illustrations of the Book of Kells the presence of evil is made
self-evident. In the Temptation scene, it is the Devil himself who enters; in the
Arrest, it is Christ’s captors that grab him. Christ’s pose in both cases is protective,
either in prayer, hands outstretched, or presenting the scroll, over the Temple of the
Church, as a shield to humanity standing in multitude behind him. Both gestures
appear to be aimed to fend off the devil’s attack or that of the enemies. In the case of
the Temptation, in Carr’s theory (62-72), it is only in association with the Psalm
quoted by the devil in the Gospel scene (Qui habitat in adiutorio Altissimi in
protectione Dei caeli commorabitur, ‘He that dwells in the aid of the most High,
shall abide under the protection of the God of Heaven’), that the iconographic
elements in the illumination can be explained, like the figure on the Osiris pose
standing in its doorway upon snakes (“you will walk upon the asp and the basilisk”),
the red discs like shields (“His truth shall compass thee with a shield”), the bust of
Christ creating a figure of protection for the sake of the people behind him (“You are
my protector, and my refuge”). In the Arrest, the expression of Jesus face bewares
the viewer of the danger of evil, and his open eyes seem to be telling what he told his
disciples in Gethsemane: to watch and pray and remain in constant vigilance.
Two aspects need be commented in this case regarding knotwork. One is the
many cross compositions of knotwork that we have found in the four portraits, the
other is the very telling fact that knotwork tends to be less emphasized whenever the
presence of evil is impersonated. This can be illustrated by a simple look at the
41
frames of all plates: the examples of plates 1, 2, 3, and 6 show how the portraits are
framed by a rectangular threshold. These thresholds are in all the cases filled by
interlace patterns, leaving no empty spaces at all on the whole page. Furthermore,
these patterns represent a barrier that obstructs evil on its way to the book. On the
other hand, we have the exceptions of plates 4 and 5. In these illuminations, evil has
already entered the book, there is no rectangular frame and the columns look
certainly feebler, the background is empty.
We may conclude then, that if evil is kept away from the scene, knotwork is
profuse, tight and exuberant, and has performed its protective duty, whereas if the
presence of evil is made physical, the use of knotwork tends to be sparser; its
protective function is in that case transferred to the figure of Christ, his mother or his
disciples. All this may suggest to us that their apotropaic, protective role is
interchangeable and that there is then a common apotropaic function of iconography
and knotwork at play in the Book of Kells.
42
Conclusion
The main subject area of this B.A. Thesis is Celtic ornament, and in particular,
interlace and knotwork; its focus, the specific forms of interlace occurring in the fullpage portraits and illustrations of the Book of Kells.
Knotwork is one of the two main interlace patterns appearing in Celtic
ornamental art, along with plaitwork, from which it is said to derive. Their several
interlaced cords always go over and under in apparent continuity, but unlike a plait, a
knot presents deviations in the courses of strands from the expected crossing points,
forming apparent ‘breaks’, either horizontal or vertical, and their corresponding
repairs in the criss-crossing of the interlaced bands.
As to its function not much has been published. James Trilling has been the only
once concerned about it. In “Medieval Interlace Ornament”, published back in 1995,
he proposed an apotropaic, that is to say, a protective function to it, performed to
turning evil away, common both in early antiquity and the Christian and Islamic
Middle Ages. Apotropaic devices would then occur in doorways, real or symbolic,
by means of representations of eyes, protective animals or the Christian cross. This
applied to knotwork, and that in Insular manuscripts too. In Trilling’s theory, it
worked by two main means, ‘confusion and indeterminability’ and ‘attraction’; as if
trapped in a labyrinth, the force of harm or evil the enemy would be dismantled by
first attracting and then confusing the mind.
Our Thesis aimed to test the validity of Trilling’s claim through an analysis of the
full-page portraits and illustrations in the Book of Kells, of their iconography and of
their knotwork panels in relation to it. Starting from the Virgin and Child (fol. 7v) ,
the two surviving Evangelist portraits and that of Christ (fols. 28v, 32v, and 202v),
and the two only illustration in the Book, The Arrest of Christ (fol. 114r) and The
Temptation of Christ (fol. 291v), it hoped to be thus contributing ideas on the
relation of structure and function of the Book of Kells itself.
There cannot be any doubt that many elements in the iconography of full-page
portraits and illustrations would respond to the main characteristic of apotropaic
design. First of all, all are situated in the book as prefatory matter or at the opening of
the Gospels; all include the depiction of some kind of doorway, framing the central
figures or scene; some evoke episodes or scenes in the life of Christ that pertain his
birth, his passing to the life of resurrection or that of humanity. Second, the presence
of evil is sometimes self-evident, as in the devil that enters the scene in the
Temptation or the two captors in the Arrest; Christ pose in both cases is protective,
either in prayer or presenting the scroll or taken the shape of the cross. Other times,
evil is kept out of scene by the stern stare of protection of the frontal figures that are
depicted, from the Virgin, the Evangelists or Christ himself. Third, there are
frequently protective objects, animals or being attending the central figures, mainly
angels with flabella, lions, peacocks or the cross.
The significance of the presence of knotwork patterns varies. The highest
profusion of knotwork appears in the Evangelist portraits; next comes the Virgin and
Child and finally The Arrest of Christ and The Temptation of Christ, where the
lowest profusion of interlace occurs. It seems then that if evil is kept away from the
scene, knotwork is profuse, tight and exuberant, and has performed its protective
duty, whereas if the presence of evil is made physical, the use of knotwork tends to
be sparser; its protective function is in that case transferred to the figure of Christ, his
mother or his disciples.
All this may suggest to us that their apotropaic, protective role is interchangeable
and that there is then a common apotropaic function of iconography and knotwork at
play in the Book of Kells.
Whether the Book of Kells may have been produced as an apotropaic device, to
protect the reader, the community or itself from enemy hands, either through
individual contemplation or public display, is a question that offers avenues for
future study.
44
Appendix
Portraits and Illustrations of the Book of Kells
Plate 1: Book of Kells, fol. 7v, Virgin and Child with Angels (Bernard Meehan 12)
Plate 2: Book of Kells, fol. 28v, Portrait of St Matthew (Bernard Meehan 37)
46
Plate 3: Book of Kells, fol. 32v, Portrait of Christ (Bernard Meehan 56)
47
Plate 4: Book of Kells, fol. 114r, The Arrest of Christ (Bernard Meehan 49)
48
Plate 5: Book of Kells, fol. 202v, The Temptation of Christ (Bernard Meehan 11)
49
Plate 6: Book of Kells, fol. 291v, Portrait of St John (Bernard Meehan 39)
50
Works Cited
Allen, J. Romily. Celtic Art in Pagan and Christian Times. London: Methuen,1904.
Print.
Bain, George. The Methods of Construction of Celtic Art. N.p.: Maclellan, 1951.
Print.
Bain, Iain. Celtic Knotwork. London: Constable, 1986. Print.
Budney, Mildred. “Deciphering the Art of Interlace.” From Ireland Coming: Irish
Art.Ed. Colum Hourihane. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001. 183210: Print.
Farr, Carol. The Book of Kells: Its Function and Audience. The British Library
Studies in Medieval Culture 4. London: British Library; Toronto and Buffalo,
N.Y.: University of Toronto Press, 1997. Print.
Harbison, Peter. “Three Miniatures in the Book of Kells.” Proceedings of the Royal
Irish Academy 85.7 (1985): 181-194. Print.
Henry, Françoise. The Book of Kells: Reproductions from the Manuscript in Trinity
College Dublin. London: Thames & Hudson, 1974. Print.
Lewis, Suzanne. “The Book of Kells: Its Function and Audience, by Carol Farr.”
Rev. of Speculum 77.2 (2002): 519-521. Print.
Meehan, Aidan. Knotwork: The Secret Method of the Scribes. New York: Thames
and Hudson, 1991. Print.
Meehan, Bernard. The Book of Kells: An Illustrated Introduction to the Manuscript
in Trinity College Dublin. London: Thames and Hudson, 1994. Print.
The Book of Kells, MS 58, Trinity College Dublin: Commentary. Ed. Peter Fox.
Luzern: Faksimile Verlag Luzern, 1990. Print.
The Book of Kells. Ed. Bill Simpson. Dublin: Board of Trinity College D, 2000. CDROM.
The Book of Kells: Proceedings of a Conference at Trinity College, Dublin, 6-9
September 1992. Ed. Felicity O'Mahony. Aldershot: Scolar, 1994. Print.
Trilling, James. “Medieval Interlace Ornament: The Making of a Cross-Cultural
Idiom.” Arte Medievale 9 (1995): 59-86. Print.
———— . The Language of Ornament. London: Thames & Hudson, 2001. Print.
52