Satiric Vulgarity in Guibert de Nogent's Gesta Dei per Francos

 

 

By Robert Levine

 

      

 Attempts to characterize Guibert de Nogent (1053-1121) generally focus upon his Autobiography, not on his history of the First Crusade. What scholarly attention the Gesta Dei per Francos has received is devoted to the theological problems Guibert set about solving in it {See M.D. Coupe, "The personality of Guibert de Nogent reconsidered," Journal of Medieval History IX, no. 4 [Dec. '83], pp. 317-329 for a summary and judgement of the work of J. Kantor, Benton, and others. See also Charaud, Jacques, "La conception de l'histoire de Guibert de Nogent,"  Cahiers de civilisation médiévale  VIII (1965), pp. 381-395, and Klaus Schreiner, "Discrimen veri ac falsi,"  Archive fur Kulturgeschicht  XLVIII (1966), pp. 1-51. Both Charaud and Schreiner are concerned to  demonstrate the degree to which Guibert's vision of history is ruled by theology, and tropology in particular; both  articles can be read as respectful corrections of Bernard Monod, "De la méthode historique chez Guibert de Nogent," Révue historique 84 (1904), pp. 51-70. Georg Misch also makes an attempt to characterize Guibert, in Geschichte der Autobiographie, vol. 3, part two, first half, Frankfurt, 1959, pp. 108-162} Nevertheless, the same personality that dominates the autobiographical text penetrates the historical text. As cantankerous as Carlyle, Guibert reveals in the Gesta the same qualities that Jonathan Kantor detected elsewhere:

 

 The tone of the memoirs is consistently   condemning and not confiding; they were written not by one searching for the true faith but by one determined to condemn the faithless. {Journal of Medieval History 2 (1976), p. 299 (of pp. 281-303).}  

 

However, Kantor goes on to argue, on the basis of a comparison with one other twelfth-century historian, that Guibert's writings are "the product of a cloister mentality" (300), thereby  missing an essential literary fact about Guibert:  like many others before him, including Jerome and Liudprand of Cremona, he was an anima naturaliter satirica.  Like Liudprand, he found an opportunity to vent his spleen in the course of composing an historical work. 

 

 The anger they express, however, is often taken as a symptom of their own instability. In a thirteenth-century poem attributed to Walter Map, the poet complains that the flatterer appears to be calm and judicious, while the man who speaks the truth is sad, satiric, and strange    (fanaticus in Classical Latin might mean "inspired" or "insane"). 

 

Qui palpo fuerit, ille pacificus,  

illeque dicitur esse probaticus;

qui vera loquitur est melancolicus,

immo satiricus, immo  fanaticus. 

 

{ll. 97-100 of "De Palpone et Assentore," in The Latin poems commonly attributed to Walter Mapes, ed. by Thomas Wright, London, 1841. The passage may be distantly related to Terence, Andria  68,    Obsequium amicos, veritas odium parit, which Isidore of Seville uses as his example of the third kind of enthymeme, the  sententiale (Etymologies, ed. W.M Lindsay, Oxford, 1911, II.9.11)} 

 

The flatterer is said to be calm and judicious, while he who speaks the truth is melancholic, satiric, even mad {Misch, op. cit., p. 577, describes Rather of Verona's Phreneticus as perhaps the most elaborate medieval use of madness as a satiric strategy.}  The truth-teller, then,  qui vera loquitur,  seems abnormal to others;  therefore the truly perceptive person will realize that qualities that appear to be socially negative are actually signs of accuracy and reliability. 

 

 Modern readers also have had difficulty with the nature of satire, sometimes attributing to individual, personal sensibility what was part of a rhetorical posture shared by many writers {When John Benton says of Guibert, "he exhibits some of the tortures of a distressed mind," Self and Society in Medieval France, New York, 1970, p. 32.} he may be misconstruing the rules of the "game of truth" {J.M.A. Beer's phrase, in Narrative Conventions of Truth in the Middle Ages, Geneva, 1981, p. 22 et alibi}. Guibert's posture and tone may have been intensely personal, yet they are also the result of his participation in a long and effective rhetorical tradition.  

 

 Vituperation provides the dominant tone in the one work of Guibert's which gets any attention in standard histories of rhetoric, the Liber quo ordine sermo fieri debeat. Characteristically, he associates the wrong kind of speech with the lower body, asserting that men whose motives for speaking are generated by pride, disdain, and envy are literal ventriloquists:  

 

hoc isti ne sermocinatores vocentur, quod infame genus hominum esse solet, quia pro suo ventre loquuntur, unde  a Gregorio Naziano  ventriloqui appellantur, ex typo nimio dedignantur. {Migne PL 156.22} 

 

These men cannot be called speakers, because they belong to that group of men who speak for their own bellies, for which reason they are called "ventriloquists" by Gregory of Nazianus.  

 

 The techniques of debasement reappear when Guibert finds ample room for exercising his condemnatory impulses in reworking accounts of the First Crusade. In the Gesta Dei per Francos, whose title is itself an attempt to correct what Guibert argued was Fulcher's misleading version of events (the deeds were done through not by the French), Guibert attacks several groups: those who believe in relics {See Guibert's De pignoribus sanctorum, Migne PL 156.607-684) for an extended attack on those who believe in the wrong relics.} other than those which he himself believes to be authentic; those who choose a style more elaborate or less elaborate than the one that he himself uses;  aristocrats who belong to factions other than his own; Jews, heretics, and Arabs. 

 

 Some of the strategies Guibert invokes to mount his attacks resemble those of classical diatribe, psogos, or invective, although his text contains no convincing evidence of Guibert's familiarity with specific prescriptions by Cicero, Quintilian, or the author of the Ad Herrenium. Manuscripts of standard classical handbooks did circulate and were transcribed during the middle ages. In the ninth century Lupus of Ferrières transcribed a copy of Cicero's de oratore. Copies of the same work existed at various French monasteries during the late tenth and early eleventh century, at Saint-Gildas near Bourges in the eleventh-century, and at Cluny by the middle of the twelfth  century. L.D. Reynolds, Texts and Transmission, Oxford, 1983, pp. 102-109.} However, whether Guibert produced invective and diatribe spontaneously out of an anima naturaliter satirica, or found models for his invective and diatribe in  specific rhetorical texts, or inferred them from reading poets and historians is a question that cannot be answered  authoritatively on the basis of research done so far. 

 

 Nevertheless, John Ward implies that Guibert, in the letter to Lysiard that forms part of the prefatory material for the Gesta, makes use of patterns described and prescribed by  Cicero and his  epigones. {Classical Rhetoric and Medieval Historiography, ed. by Ernst Breisach, Kalamazoo, 1985, pp. 138-139.  On the basis of the same assumption, Ward demonstrates the presence of traditional rhetorical patterns in Baudry of Bourgeuil as well.} Ward, however, devotes no attention to the classical models for Guibert's diatribe and invective. 

 

 Conventionally, classical invective is an inversion of  classical panegyric. As codified and practiced by the writers of the Second Sophistic, Cicero's description of panegyric covers most of the same   ground, without enumerating the topics; see E.W. Sutton and H. Rackham,    Cicero: De Oratore, Cambridge, 1967, v. I, pp. 456 ff.  See also Quintillian, ed. H.E. Butler, New York, 1920, vol I, pp. 472-473. 3.7 on laus et vituperatio.  In his study of Claudian, Alan Cameron has pointed out that, "in theory invective was simply an inversion of panegyric."(Alan Cameron, Claudian: Poetry and Propaganda at the Court of Honorius, Oxford, 1970, p. 254). Harry L. Levy shows some of the ways in which Claudian's In Rufinum follows the prescriptions for panegyric and  vituperation, in "Claudian's In Rufinum and the Rhetorical Psogos," Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association, 77 (1946), pp. 57-65.  For the tendency to confuse praise and blame in some satiric   texts see Robert Levine, "Why praise Jews; History and Satire in the Middle Ages," Journal of Medieval History  XII (1986), pp. 291-296.} panegyric consisted of six topics:

 

  1. prologue (with no particular assigned material).     
  2. genos or race and genealogy.    
  3. nurture and education.    
  4. deeds.     
  5. comparisons.     
  6. epilogue. Prayer for future welfare. {The list is taken from C.S. Baldwin, Medieval Rhetoric and Poetics, Gloucester, 1959, pp. 60 ff., an economic paraphrase of Quintilian (see Butler, op. cit., pp. 464-79}

 

 To attack someone, then, the speaker might use the same categories, reversing the values. As Cicero pointed out, in a passage that also suggests a link between what is serious and what is comic, praise and blame have different subject matters, but they share the same method:  

 

Dixi enim dudum, materiam aliam esse joci, aliam severitatis;  gravium autem et iocorum unam essem rationem...eisdem verbis   et laudare frugi servum possumus, et, se est nequam,  jocari. 

 

For I said before that, though the fields of jesting and austerity lie wide apart, yet the methods of seriousness and jesting are identical...  we can, in identical terms, praise a careful servant, and make fun of one who is good-for-nothing.  De Oratore, Sutton and Rackham, pp. 396-97, 382-383}   

 

 The sixth topic of panegyric, the prayer for the future welfare   of one's subject, in psogos often becomes an excuse for the writer to compose a hideous death-scene, in the course of which he may insult the object of his vituperation by appealing to other topics as well. Perhaps the best-known of these scenes occurs in Seneca's Apocolocyntosis, where the emperor Claudius at his death propels himself to heaven by his own  flatulence. That Guibert had access to the work cannot be demonstrated. Reynolds, op. cit., pp. 361-362, reports that Hucbald (840-930) owned a copy of the Apocolocyntosis, and that various other manuscripts of the work existed throughout the middle ages} After providing a mixture of verse and prose, Greek and Latin, as a preamble, Seneca describes the moment of death: 

 

Ultima vox eius haec inter homines audita est, cum maiorem  sonitum emisisset illa parte, qua facilius loquebatur: "vae mihi, puto, concacavi me." Quod an fecerit, nescio; omnia certe concacavit.

 

The last words he was heard to speak in this world were these. When he had made a great noise with that part of him which talked easiest, he cried out, "Oh dear, oh dear! I think I have made a mess of myself." Whether he did or no, I cannot say, but certain it is he always did make a mess of everything {Petronius, translated by Michael Heseltine, London, 1913, pp. 380-381}

 

{In this example as well as in the later ones, the strategies of classical psogos clearly resemble the techniques of debasement that characterize "grotesque realism," as described, explored (and severely oversimplified  in the area of medieval literature) by Mikhail Bakhtin in Rabelais and his World, Cambridge, 1968}   

 

 Claudian, at the end of the fourth century, offers an   example of another such exercise, in an attack on one of Eutropius' allies, a former weaver named Leo, for whom he provides an absurd death on the battle-field. After having rhetorically demolished Hosius, another ally of Eutropius, Claudian calls upon topic five, comparisons, to help debase the death of Leo. Not like the lion his name proclaims, but like a deer, Leo meets his death, while his   horse sweats beneath his massive weight: 

 

Ipse Leo dama cervoque fugacior ibat, 

Sudanti tremebundus equo; qui pondere postquam 

Decidit implicitus limo, cunctantia pronus  

Per vada reptabat.  

 

Leo himself, swifter than dear or antelope, fled trembling  on his foam-flecked horse, and it falling under his weight  Leo sank in the mire and on all fours fought his way through the clinging slime. 

 

  {Claudian, edited and translated by Maurice Platnauer, London, 1956, II. 440-43} 

 

Stuck in the mud, he groans like a pig; Claudian now recalls Hosius' abilities as a cook, composing a simile which allows him, by association, to spit and roast his opponent: 

 

caeno subnixa tenaci  mergitur, et pingui suspirat corpore moles, 

More suis, dapibus quae jam devota futuris  

Turpe gemit, quotiens Hosius mucrone corusco

Armatur, cingitque sinus; secumque volutat  

Quas figat verubus partes, quae frusta calenti 

Mandet aquae, quantoque cutem distendat echino. (II.444-459)  

 

Held up at first by the thick mud, his fat body gradually   settles down panting like a common pig, which destined to grace the coming feast, squeals when Hosius arms him  with flashing knife, and gathers up his garments, pondering the while what portions he will transfix with spits, which  pieces of the flesh he will boil and how much sea-urchin stuffing will be needed to fill the empty skin. 

 

As part of his "technique of debasement," then, Claudian applies to the would-be-hero Leo what Curtius has called "kitchen  imagery," {E.R. Curtius, European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages, New York, 1953, pp. 431-435.} without, however, providing the parody of divine    afflatus to be found in Seneca's representation of the death of Claudius. 

 

   In his description of the death of Jovinian, and the transmission of his ideas to Vigilantius, Saint Jerome combines the image of pigs with the parody of divine afflatus, providing a Christian variation for these motifs: 

 

Hic Romanae Ecclesiae auctoritate damnatus, inter Phasides  aves et carnes suillas non tam emisit spiritum, quam eructavit.  

 

Jovinianus, condemned by the authority of the church, amidst pheasants and swine's flesh, breathed out, or rather belched  out his   spirit.{PL XXIII.355. Translation by W.H. Fremantle, in  Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers  VI, London, 1892.}  

 

Elsewhere in the Adversus Jovinianum, in the course of attacking his opponent as the modern Epicurus, Jerome again associates him with pigs:

 

Quoscunque formosos, quoscunque calamistratos, quos crine   composito, quos rubentibus buccis videro, de tuo armento sunt, imo inter tuos sues grunniunt.  

 

If ever I see a fine fellow, or a man who is no stranger to the   curling-irons, with his hair nicely done and his cheeks all aglow, he belongs to your herd, or rather grunts in concert with your   pigs. {PL XXII.349. Fremantle, op. cit., t. p. 414.}  

 

In this passage Jerome is probably recalling Horace's playfully self-deprecating description of himself as Epicuri de grege porcum (Ep. 1.4.16), although he has very clearly changed the tone.  A few lines later, Jerome reinforces the connection with swine

 

Et pro magna sapientia deputas, si plures porci post te currant,  quos gehennae succidiae nutrias?

 

And do you regard it as a mark of great wisdom if you have a following of many pigs, whom you are feeding to make pork for hell?   

 

 The association of pigs, Epicurus and heretics proved particularly useful in Christian polemics against Mahomet, who inspired a wide range of invective. Byzantine writers provided the Prophet with epilepsy; Bartholomew of Edessa assured his readers that Mahomet had been dragged to his death by a drunken camel, while others imagined him eaten by dogs. {See A. d'Ancona, La Leggenda di Maometto in Occidente, pp. 199-281; Embricho of Mainz, La vie de Mahomet, ed. Guy Cambier, 1962, pp. 30-31. For a discussion of later versions of this scene, with   particular emphasis on the version offered by Matthew Paris, see Suzanne Lewis, The Art of Matthew Paris, Berkeley, 1987, pp. 99-101.}  Embricho of Mainz, however, perhaps thirty years before the First Crusade, offers a version of the death of Mahomet that combines epilepsy, sexual excess, and pigs.   

 

 In Embricho's leonine  elegiacs, Mahomet falls into an epileptic fit, at which point a band of pigs finds him and eats him: 

 

Accurrere sues -- digna repente lues! --  

Qui rapidus sic grex quasi spernens quod foret his rex,   

Totus in hunc properat et miserum lacerat.

 

Pigs fell upon him, a worthy punishment; the band of pigs, as though spurning him as their king, all rushed upon him and tore the wretch apart.  

 

{Cambier, op. cit., p. 88. The poem is also printed by Migne, PL 171, attributed to Hildebert. Christ driving the unclean spirits into the Gadarene swine (Mathew 8.30-32) may be part of the inspiration for this passage.}   

 

 Although his depiction of the death of Mahomet (a scene that allows him simultaneously to attack two of his favorite foes: Semitic foreigners and heretics), is more abbreviated than Embrichon's, Guibert adds the parody of divine afflatus.  Having spent much of the early part of the Gesta Dei per Francos attacking heretics, towards the end of the first book he turns to the Arabs, whom he portrays as sexual maniacs. According to Guibert, they force the women whom they capture to sing while their mothers are being raped, then force the women to exchange roles. He takes the apparently fastidious postion that  such activity is partially excusable, since heterosexual activity is "natural," but when the Arabs rape men, even a bishop, they have gone too far.  Embricho also goes to great lengths in his denunciation of Arabic perverse sexuality (Cambier, pp. 78-79). }  

 

 His abhorrence of the sexual excesses of Arabs is so great that it allows him the license of interrupting the chronological narration of  events to compose a cadenza on the life of Mahomet. {Guibert de Nogent, Gesta Dei per Francos, RHC.HO IV, p. 130.} After devoting some attention to the theological errors for which the prophet was responsible, Guibert launches into a narrative that emphasizes the Prophet's low birth (topic two) and the sexual license (topic four: "deeds") engaged in and encouraged by Mahomet. In the case of the prophet himself, the result, acccording to Guibert, was an excessive number of children, and  epilepsy. Having passed out during one of his seizures, Mahomet is eaten by pigs. Guibert adds a detail to Embricho's  account: the prophet's heels are all that remains of him:  

 

Quum subitaneo ictu epylenseos saepe corrueret, quo eum  diximus superius laborare, accidit semel, dum solus obambulat, ut morbo elisus eodem caderet; et inventus, dum ipsa passione  torquetur, a porcis in tantum discerpitur, ut nullae ejus praeter talos reliquiae invenirentur. 

 

Since he often fell into a sudden epileptic fit, it happened once, while he was walking alone, that he suddenly fell in a fit; while he was writhing in this agony, he was devoured by pigs, so that nothing could be found of him except his heels.   

 

Thus the heretic, having given himself up to bestial appetite, is "justly" devoured by the beasts most commonly associated with  excessive physical appetite, as well as the beasts whom Muslims are forbidden to  eat. In Embricho's text, an Arab priest draws an explicit moral also:

 

Hoc ut monstraret et aperte significaret,  

Ipse pati voluit nosque per hoc monuit 

Quam fragiles simus. Sed quamvis carne perimus,  

Post mortem reliqua spes tamen est aliqua,

Fit quia nostrarum mors ipsa salus animarum,  

Et quando morimur, tunc Mahumet sequimur (p. 91)

 

This shows and clearly demonstrates that his suffering   was designed to tell us how weak we are. But although we may perish in the flesh, after death some hope remains that our death may be the salvation of our souls, and when we die, we may follow Mahomet.}   

 

 The association of food, sex, and the misuse of language   is one that Guibert also uses in the Liber quo ordine sermo fieri debeat

 

Nam sicut victualia sobrie sumpta ad corporis nutrimentum   in corpore permanent, immoderate vero vorata in detrimentum vergunt, et vomitum provocant; et qui semine legitimo et parce modesteque edito conjugi miscetur, prolem creat, qui  vero semine fluit, nihil utile efficit, sed carnem foedat:  ita qui nimie verbum profert, et id quod auditorum cordibus insitum erat, et proficere poterat,  aufert.  Migne PL 156.25. 

 

For food moderately taken to feed the body remains in the   body, but devoured immoderately is detrimental and provokes vomiting; he who carefully and restrainedly copulates may create a child, but he who is lavish with his seed does nothing useful, merely soiling the flesh. Thus the man who offers too many words vitiates the good that he might do for the hearts of his listeners.  

 

 The death of Mahomet also gives Guibert a chance to compose a routine against one of his favorite objects for invective: false relics. To begin the routine, Guibert meditates on the significance of the narrative he has just given, providing an exegesis   in the course of which he recalls the fate of Epicurus, offers the Stoics as types of true Christians, and asserts the precise fitness of the death of Mahomet:

 

Ecce legifer optimus, dum Epicureum, quem veri Stoici,   Christi scilicet cultores, occiderant, porcum resuscitare   molitur, immo prorsus resuscitat, porcus ipse porcis  devorandus exponitur: ut obscoenitatis magisterium obscoenissimo, uti convenit, fine concludat. Talos jure reliquit, quia perfidiae ac turpitudinis vestigia deceptis miserabiliter animabus infixit.

 

While the true Stoics, that is, the worshipers of Christ, killed Epicurus, lo, the greatest law-giver (Guibert's antiphrasis) tried to revive the pig, but the pig itself lay exposed to be eaten by pigs, so that the master of filth appropriately died a filthy death. He left his heels fittingly, since he had wretchedly  fixed the traces of false belief and foulness in deceived souls. Guibert may have the image of Mahomet grinding his heels into their souls.}   

 

 Guibert now shifts his tone, composing a comic routine that oscillates between prose and verse, and that deliberately and self-consciously goes "too far." 

 

 First he calls upon two parts of an Horatian ode to assist in  interpreting the death of Mahomet: 

 

Cujus talorum titulo exegimus tetrasticum juxta Poetam: 

 

Aere perennius, 

Regalique situ

pyramidum altius:(III,xxx, 1,2)

 

ut vir egregius,

omni porco felicior,

cum poeta eodem dicere  

valeat: 

 

Non omnis moriar, multaque pars mei   

Vitabit Libitinam. (III.xxx. 6-7)

 

We shall find an explanation for the heels in four lines of the poet. So that the fine man, happier than any pig, might say with the poet: "I shall not die entirely, a great part of me shall avoid Hell

 

Thus Guibert converts a line Horace wrote in praise of   his own poetry into invective against Mahomet.  

 

 He proceeds to offer an elegaic quatrain of his own to magnify the absurd,abhorrent qualities of the death he has just described: 

 

Manditur ore suum, qui porcum vixerat, hujus  

Membra beata cluunt, podice fusa suum. 

Quum talos ori, tum quod sus fudit odori, 

Digno qui celebrat cultor honore ferat. 

 

He who has lived by the pig is chewed to death by the pig and  the limbs which were called blessed have  become pigs' excrement. May those who  wish to honor him carry to their mouths his heels, which the pig has poured forth in stench. 

 

Charaud's response to the excesses of this routine shows a proper appreciation of Guibert's deliberate violation of decorum:

 

Et le moine s'en donne à coeur joie lorsqu'il livre à la postérité un quatrain d'horreur et de grossièrtés où l'analogie entre le porc et le prophète Mahomet est savamment établie. {Op. cit., p. 385.}   

 

 Guibert, however, is still not finished with debasing his opponent, but instead steps up the use of banquet imagery, bringing in the Manicheans, and speculating on the number of angels created by the process of eating Mahomet:  

 

Quod si Manichaeorum sunt vera repurgia sectae, ut in omni quod   comeditur pars quaedam maneat commaculata Dei, et dentium   comminutione, et stomachi concoctione pars ipsa Dei purgetur, et purgata jam in angelos convertitur, qui ructibus et ventositate extra nos prodire dicantur: sues de hujus carnibus pastas quot credimus angelos effecisse et magnis hinc inde  flatibus emisisse?  

 

What if there is some truth in what the Manicheans say about   purification, that in every food something of God is present and that part of God is purified by chewing and digesting, and the purified part is turned into angels, who are said to   depart from us in belching and flatulence: how many angels  may we believe were produced by the flesh eaten by these pigs and by the great farts they let go? 

 

   Having indulged his penchant for grotesque comedy, Guibert now tries to re-establish the illusion that he is an objective historian by offering a seemingly fair assessment of the contributions of Mahomet: 

 

Sed omissis jocularibus quae pro sequacium derisione dicuntur, hoc est insinuandum: quod non eum Deum, ut aliqui aestimant, opinantur; sed hominem justum eumdemque patronum, per quem leges divinae tradantur.  

 

But, laying aside the comic remarks intended to mock his followers, my point is that they did not think that he was God, but a just man and leader, through whom divine laws might be transmitted.  

 

 Cicero offers a model, though less extravagant, yet still porcine, for this kind of rhetorical behavior in the In Verrem. After associating his opponent with pigs ("pork gravy," anticipating the modern "pork barrel"), he apologizes for the vulgar comic relief:  

 

Hinc illi homines erant qui etiam ridiculi inveniebantur ex dolore; quorum alii, id quod saepe audistis, negebant mirandum esse ius tam nequam esse verrinum: alii etiam frigidiores erant, sed quia stomachabantur ridiculi videbantur esse, cum Sacerdotem   exsecrabantur qui verrem tam nequam reliquisset. Quae ego non  commemorare (neque enim perfacete dicta neque porro hac severitate digna sunt) nisi vos illud vellem recordari, istius nequitiam  et iniquitatem tum in ore vulgi atque in communibus proverbiis esse versatam.

 

Hence those people whose indignation went so far as to make them humorists: some of these made the remark you have often   heard repeated, that ius verrinum was of course poor stuff: others were still sillier, only that their irritation passed them off as good jesters, when they cursed Sacerdos for leaving such a miserable hog behind him. I should not recall these jokes, which are not particularly witty, nor, moreover, in keeping with the serious dignity of this Court, were it not that I would have you remember how Verres' offences against morality and justice became at the time the subject of common talk and popular catchwords. {Cicero, The Verrine Orations, ed. and transl. by L.H.G. Greenwood, London, 1928, I, pp. 252-53.}  

 

Cicero, then, provides one possible model for indulging in and apologizing for bad taste; having associated his opponent with pigs, he dissociates himself from the act. {For a study of Cicero's sense of humor, useful in spite of its Bergsonian bias, see Auguste Haury, L'Ironie et l'humour chez Ciceron, Leiden, 1955.}  

 

 Thus Guibert, like Cicero in his attack on Verres, indulges in, and then distances himself from a joke told in deliberately bad taste. His attack on Mahomet concludes with an exercise in the sixth topic of psogos, with some help from at least two other topics. In addition, in the cause of Christian polemic, he invokes the techniques of classical rhetorical debasement, with particular  emphasis on "kitchen imagery," drawing some of his material from a tradition represented most vividly by Seneca's portrayal of Claudius' flatulent apotheosis, and by Jerome's attack on Jovinian. For later uses of flatulence as a debasement of speech, see Dante's  devil, who avea del cul fatto trombetta (Inferno XXI.39), and the conclusion of Chaucer's Summoner's Tale. }