As was described in my first post about “The Adoration of the Shepherds,” this work by Bartolommeo Bulgarini features only four words – the “Ave Maria Gratia Plena” adorning Mary’s halo. If we consider the context in which this painting appears, the significance of these words might be made clearer.
According to the description
accompanying this painting in the Harvard Art Museum, “The Adoration of the
Shepherds” was part of a larger series of paintings; the cathedral at Siena, the
original location of this work, featured numerous scenes from the life of
Mary. The Virgin’s centrality in “The Adoration of the Shepherds” therefore makes sense, as does her privileged possession of a text-laden
halo.
But why the words “Hail Mary, full
of grace”? Is there any precedence for this found in the other paintings featured at the Siena cathedral? We can check these paintings to find out. The other paintings are the following: "Birth of the Virgin" by Pietro Lorenzetti, "Annunciation" by Simone Martini, and "Purification" by Ambrogio Lorenzetti. Rounding up these paintings with a simple online search reveals that the first two have text-free halos for Mary, while the final painting has this surrounding the Virgin's head:
The right side of the halo is nearly indecipherable, but on the left side we can easily make out the word "Virgo," i.e. "Virgin." This tells us a few things. First, putting text on Mary's halo was nothing out of the ordinary. Second, these commonplace labels were just that - labels. "Hail Mary, full of grace" doesn't tell us very much about what's going on in "The Adoration of the Shepherds." It manages to identify Mary, sure, but it doesn't reflect anything else going on in the scene. The "Virgo" halo in Ambrogio Lorenzetti's "Purification" similarly seems to identify Mary and do little more.
The writing in these paintings gives us examples of public text. Both of these were located in a
cathedral, and anyone could have in theory walked up to them and read the words.
Perhaps accordingly, the text was brief and recognizable. We may contrast this with more private pieces of text, i.e. books. Books, with
their great length and complexity, were rather esoteric. Only people with a
thorough knowledge of Latin could even hope to read them. Furthermore, the
production of books was no small task back then. Creating a manuscript required
parchment, ink, and scribes. According to historian Michael Clanchy, manuscripts
were incredibly expensive during the Middle Ages, mostly because of the scribes’
wages. Indeed, production of a typical medieval manuscript would require numerous scribes working
over a period of weeks or months (production of manuscripts was so tedious, in fact, that full Bibles were virtually nonexistent until the later Middle Ages). Because of this cost, books were only available to the wealthy.
Now, creation of the above paintings was no small task either. But when one of these paintings was finished, everyone was able to enjoy it. The intended audience size was infinite. The intended audience size for the average medieval manuscript, though? Obviously much smaller, but not as small as you may think. Nowadays books are so plentiful that each physical copy practically has a unique owner. The modern intended audience size for an individual book, then, is one. During the Middle Ages, however, there weren't nearly enough books to go around for everyone who could read. Production was simply too difficult. Sure, members of the royalty were able to get their hands on texts, but what about everyone else? The monks had a simple solution.
Otloh of St. Emmeram described his own book The Temptations of a Monk as being "for those who had just entered religious life and wanted to read sacred scripture." Notice the use of the word "those." Otloh assumed that his audience could take on an arbitrary size. No one individual was to own Otloh's manuscript. Instead, The Temptations of a Monk was intended to be a communal resource. In other words, St. Emmeram must have had a library.
At this point we may observe a continuum of textual audience sizes in the Middle Ages. Some pieces of text - simple inscriptions like "Ave Maria Gratia Plena" - were aimed at everybody. Some books were funded by kings and made specifically for those kings. Other books, like The Temptations of a Monk, occupied a sort of middle-ground, serving anyone with a good enough understanding of Latin and a desire to learn.


There are a number of things I like here, Daniel--not least how you employ site-specific comparative analysis to evaluate the meaning (and meaningful-ness) of writing in Mary's halo, and then broaden your scope to think more broadly about how "public writing" might have operated, and how it fits into medieval writing and scribal practices more universally. Is it necessarily true, though, that texts like those found in the Siena painting were "aimed at everybody"? As Clancy points out elsewhere in his book, there were many kinds and levels of "literacy" in the Middle Ages, but texts also could work in non-literary (e.g. symbolic or formal) ways. In turn, there often are multiple possible audiences for any work (visual, textual, or otherwise)--might the halo texts you've focused on here be meant for (or accessible to) a limited number of such audiences? Still, good thinking going on here.
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