Symbolic and magical thought were foundational to the medieval mindset, serving as a primary framework for understanding the universe. Symbols provided a way to connect with, and refer to, a higher, hidden, and sacred reality. In medieval theology, mastering and employing this symbolic language was considered a profound act of homage paid to the supreme being, God.
The medieval world integrated symbolic language into every facet of life, from etymology (tracing the origin of a word and the historical development of its meaning) to liturgy (the prescribed ritual framework through which public Christian worship is conducted). Consequently, animals, both real and fantastic, occupied a critical role in medieval art as vehicles for religious allegory and moral instruction. Although these creatures are frequently interwoven with intricate foliage designs that modern viewers might dismiss as purely decorative, their inclusion was entirely purposeful.
Every aspect of medieval culture was dominated by deep religious interpretations of the world. Guided entirely by faith, people did not distinguish between the visible and invisible worlds, or between the real and the fictional. In this worldview, fantastic and monstrous creatures that did not exist in the natural world could readily inhabit the divine realm. However, deciphering these spiritual messages required a firm understanding of specific symbols.
To aid this interpretation, a literary genre known as the bestiary developed during the twelfth century. Combining natural history with moral theology, bestiaries offered descriptions of the natural world alongside tales of bizarre and loathsome creatures, functioning as moral and religious guidebooks. These volumes were heavily derived from a much older text called the Physiologus, an anonymous second-century Greek text likely composed in Alexandria, Egypt. The Physiologus provided an educational collection of descriptions regarding animals, birds, and mythical beasts, as well as plants and stones, pairing each with a Christian moralisation. Later bestiaries expanded on this foundation by incorporating classical knowledge from ancient authorities like Pliny the Elder and the seventh-century encyclopedist Isidore of Seville.
To witness this symbolism firsthand, one can look to the stunning Late Gothic architecture of the Monastery of San Juan de los Reyes in Toledo. Commissioned by the Catholic Monarchs, Queen Isabella I and King Ferdinand II, to commemorate their victory at the Battle of Toro in 1476, this site reflects how these traditions endured into the late medieval period. It was common practice for Franciscan monks to pace the monastic cloisters while contemplating spiritual life. Surrounded by animal carvings at every turn, they could readily observe, ponder, and discuss these moral lessons.
The double-level cloister at San Juan de los Reyes presents an array of fantastic animals, featuring complex foliage, saints, and architectural gargoyles depicting monsters and distorted beasts. Real animals also sparked deep moral reflection. A prominent example within the monastery is the famous Pelican Gate (Puerta del Pelícano), which displays a pelican piercing its own breast to feed its young with its blood. According to the Physiologus, this act represented Christ’s ultimate sacrifice and resurrection. Other common fauna found throughout medieval cloisters included cats, hawks, hares, snails, lizards, rams, gazelles, and bats. Furthermore, sculptors often added human figures to animal motifs to provoke complex allegorical thought. These scenes included depictions of a child stabbing an eagle, a monkey riding a dog while playing the flute, or even the highly curious imagery of a monkey sitting on a chamber pot, which was typically utilised as a stark warning against the vices of foolishness and sin.
