Dr KARL SHUKER

Zoologist, media consultant, and science writer, Dr Karl Shuker is also one of the best known cryptozoologists in the world. He is the author of such seminal works as Mystery Cats of the World (1989), The Lost Ark: New and Rediscovered Animals of the 20th Century (1993; greatly expanded in 2012 as The Encyclopaedia of New and Rediscovered Animals), Dragons: A Natural History (1995), In Search of Prehistoric Survivors (1995), The Unexplained (1996), From Flying Toads To Snakes With Wings (1997), Mysteries of Planet Earth (1999), The Hidden Powers of Animals (2001), The Beasts That Hide From Man (2003), Extraordinary Animals Revisited (2007), Dr Shuker's Casebook (2008), Karl Shuker's Alien Zoo: From the Pages of Fortean Times (2010), Cats of Magic, Mythology, and Mystery (2012), Mirabilis: A Carnival of Cryptozoology and Unnatural History (2013), Dragons in Zoology, Cryptozoology, and Culture (2013), The Menagerie of Marvels (2014), A Manifestation of Monsters (2015), Here's Nessie! (2016), and what is widely considered to be his cryptozoological magnum opus, Still In Search Of Prehistoric Survivors (2016) - plus, very excitingly, his four long-awaited, much-requested ShukerNature blog books (2019-2024).

Dr Karl Shuker's Official Website - http://www.karlshuker.com/index.htm

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Showing posts with label ammonite. Show all posts
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Monday, 2 April 2018

A MEETING WITH MEDUSA - VISITING VALENCE HOUSE MUSEUM'S 'DINOSAURS, HARRYHAUSEN AND ME' EXHIBITION IN DAGENHAM, ENGLAND


A meeting with Medusa: here am I in an almost too-close-for-comfort encounter with Greek mythology's most (in)famous gorgon - notice how I am taking good care not to look her in the eye...
This is Ray Harryhausen's original model of Medusa, as featured in his star-studded fantasy movie Clash of the Titans (1981) and currently on display at Valence House Museum's 'Dinosaurs, Harryhausen and Me' exhibition, organised by Alan Friswell, official model restorer to the Ray & Diana Harryhausen Foundation (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

On 29 March 2018, I visited Valence House Museum in Dagenham, Essex, just outside London, England, to see a wonderful exhibition entitled 'Dinosaurs, Harryhausen and Me', which featured a sizeable number of the iconic, world-famous dinosaur and monster models created by the legendary special-effects genius Ray Harryhausen and appearing in a number of his celebrated Stop-Motion science-fiction and fantasy movies, including Jason and the Argonauts (hydra, two fighting skeletons), The Valley of Gwangi (Gwangi, Styracosaurus, Eohippus, Ornithomimus, Lope), Clash of the Titans (Pegasus, Medusa, Bubo the living mechanical owl), Mysterious Island (giant ammonite/nautiloid mollusc), One Million Years BC (Ceratosaurus), and First Men in the Moon (Grand/Prime Lunar – the big-brained leader of the moon-ruling insectoid Selenites).

The 'Me' in the exhibition's title is none other than a longstanding Facebook friend of mine, expert model maker Alan Friswell, who was personally appointed by Ray to restore all of his priceless models, as some had suffered damage and wear during the 40+ years since they had originally been made. Alan also very kindly made for me a wonderful full-sized Feejee mermaid that I greatly treasure – thanks Al!

(Left) Holding my spectacular Feejee mermaid made for me by Alan Friswell; (Right) Alan himself with my mermaid on the day that he presented it to me when we met at Dagenham in 2010 – thanks again, Al! (photos © Dr Karl Shuker)

As Alan is local to Dagenham, the Museum was very keen to stage the exhibition, which is proving extremely popular, and it was an absolute delight for me to view at first hand so many of the awesome creations that captivated me on screen when I first saw their films as a youth and which still do when I rewatch them today. A selection of framed artworks produced by Ray is also on display here, together with some of Alan's own stunning models. Alan is to be heartily congratulated upon organising such a captivating and thoroughly unique exhibition in England, which lasts until 30 June 2018, and even has free entry, so do try and visit, especially if, like me, you're a lifelong Harryhausen fan. Highly recommended!!

Moreover, as a fan, rather than simply sharing on ShukerNature some of the photographs that I snapped of the amazing items featured in this exhibition I thought that it would be interesting and entertaining to annotate them with various fascinating facts and snippets of pertinent information relating to each one that I've collected and conserved down through the years, so here goes:


EL DIABLO

The original model of El Diablo, the diminutive prehistoric dawn horse or Eohippus from The Valley of Gwangi (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

This is my all-time personal favourite of all of Ray's many marvellous creations – El Diablo, the little prehistoric Eohippus that features in Ray's spellbinding Western/sci-fi movie The Valley of Gwangi (1969). The stupefied reaction of the movie's scientist character, Prof. Bromley (played superbly by the highly-respected English character actor Laurence Naismith) upon seeing El Diablo, and referring to him as the greatest scientific discovery of the age, was a major cryptozoological incitement to me at the tender age when I first viewed this fantastic movie. Click here to view the classic footage that introduces El Diablo in it.

Incidentally, although when I was a child this ancestral equid (from the early Eocene, c.50 million years ago) was indeed referred to zoologically by the iconic name Eohippus ('dawn horse'), it was subsequently renamed Hyracotherium (a much duller, far less evocative monicker, in my opinion), due to the strict, inflexible rules of nomenclatural precedence (it appeared that the latter name had been assigned to it prior to Eohippus). Happily, however, it is now Eohippus once more, because the genus Hyracotherium has lately been shown to be a paraphyletic hotchpotch, an artificial assemblage of various unrelated forms. So, welcome back, little dawn horse, you've been greatly missed!


GWANGI

Gwangi, the theropod dinosaur model that thrilled and terrified movie-goers in equal measure when it starred in The Valley of Gwangi (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

Although Gwangi was officially described as a Jurassic Allosaurus, Ray Harryhausen freely confessed that he had also been inspired by the latter dinosaur's Cretaceous descendant Tyrannosaurus rex when designing its model, combining elements from both forms to create a truly terrifying theropod that wreaked havoc and mayhem when hauled out of its prehistoric valley enclave into the modern-day realm of humanity.

Ray was famed for the incredibly life-like, realistic appearance of his creations when seen on screen, due in no small way to the myriad of small but highly individualistic behavioural nuances with which he imbued all of them. For me, this is epitomised by the scene from The Valley of Gwangi in which a friendly performing circus elephant is suddenly confronted, attacked, and mercilessly slaughtered by a rampaging, newly-escaped Gwangi. Despite knowing full well that the elephant, just like Gwangi, was actually a Stop-Motion model, not a real elephant, it was thanks to Ray's genius in animating it so realistically that when I viewed this film for the first time as a teenager I was thoroughly traumatised by its savage death at the claws and teeth of Gwangi, and even today I always find that particular scene difficult to watch. Testament, indeed, to Ray's astonishing cinematic skills! If you care to watch it, click here – but don’t expect me to!


ORNITHOMIMUS AND STYRACOSAURUS

Ray's Ornithomimus plus El Diablo (top) and Styracosaurus (bottom) models from The Valley of Gwangi (photos © Dr Karl Shuker)

El Diablo and Gwangi are not the only prehistoric creatures featuring in The Valley of Gwangi. In addition to a pterosaur (almost obligatory in a movie of this nature), there are also an Ornithomimus and a Styracosaurus. Relatively small and fast-running in bipedal mode, the Ornithomimus ('bird-mimic') is being swiftly pursued by an astonished trio of cowboys on horseback within the mysterious valley when abruptly the hitherto-concealed Gwangi bursts into view, leans down, neatly snaps up the hapless bird-mimic dinosaur in its great jaws, and begins feeding upon its still-twitching body. Not surprisingly, the cowboys duly choose discretion as the better part of valour, and ride away very swiftly in the opposite direction – although one of them does turn around briefly and fires a couple of ill-advised shots in the great reptile's direction, before racing off again when a menacing, totally-uninjured Gwangi makes it abundantly clear that it does not take kindly to its meal being disrupted in such an impolite manner! Click here to view this tense, electrifying scene.

The Styracosaurus, conversely, is made of sterner stuff, because when it is attacked by Gwangi a little later in the film, it soon puts its long and very formidable sharply-pointed snout-horn to effective use, fending off Gwangi with fierce thrusts to the latter's underparts – until cruelly betrayed by a group of cowboys keeping watch from a safe distance. Planning to capture Gwangi alive for exhibition purposes, they treacherously collude in its attack upon the Styracosaurus, their leader Carlos spearing the horned dinosaur in order to weaken it, thereby enabling Gwangi to overcome its defensive manoeuvres and kill it. Click here to watch this literally monstrous scene of treachery and tragedy!


GIANT AMMONITE/NAUTILOID

The formidable many-tentacled giant ammonite/nautiloid mollusc from Mysterious Island (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

Loosely based upon the Jules Verne novel The Mysterious Island (1874), this classic Ray Harryhausen movie from 1961 features a host of giant mutated creatures as well as some prehistoric survivors. Most famous of these latter is a terror bird Phorusrhacos (although many film-goers mistakenly assumed that it was simply a giant chicken!), but also present is this awesome giant ammonite (or nautiloid, according to some sources). Another of my favourite if lesser-known Harryhausen creations, this gargantuan marine mollusc appears near the end of the film and furiously battles the heroes during their valiant attempt to escape the island by raising from the deep a sunken but otherwise seaworthy pirate ship. Click here to view the dramatic underwater scene in which it appears.

At one time or another, virtually every major taxonomic group of prehistoric animals has been cited as a possible identity for some cryptid, but as far as I'm aware no such mystery beast has ever been likened to a living ammonite or a living fossil-type nautiloid. Today, the nautiloids are represented solely by the handful of pearly (chambered) nautilus species. As for the ammonites: constituting a discrete subclass within the molluscan class Cephalopoda (containing today's octopuses, true squids, cuttlefishes, nautiluses, and vampire squid), the ammonites were once a dominant group within the prevailing marine fauna, but their last representatives died out during the mass extinction at the end of the Cretaceous, c.66 million years ago…didn't they?


GRAND/PRIME LUNAR

Grand (aka Prime) Lunar, the insectoid Selenites' big-brained leader, ensconced upon a crystal throne, from First Men in the Moon (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

Based upon the eponymous sci-fi novel by H.G. Wells from 1901, in which some eccentric Victorian-era English scientists successfully travel to the moon (i.e. many decades before America's real-life Apollo missions), this delightful British movie from 1964 features some of Ray's most distinctive creations, including giant caterpillar-like mooncalves, and the insectoid ruling lunar race, the Selenites, whose leader is the grotesquely big-brained Grand (aka Prime) Lunar. Click here to view them in an original 1960s trailer for this film.

The concluding section of the movie shows the purported first-ever manned landing on the moon, in 1964, by a team of UN scientists, only for them to discover that the English scientists had long ago beaten them to it, and had left their leader, Prof. Cavor, behind there at his request. He now was dead, but so too was the entire Selenite civilisation, victims of the common cold viruses that Cavor had inadvertently brought with him from Earth. Needless to say, this closely echoes the famous denouement in an earlier H.G. Wells novel, The War of the Worlds, in which the seemingly unstoppable Martians invading Earth are ultimately overcome not by the might of humanity, but rather by our planet's tiniest inhabitants, the viruses, against which the Martians have no defence.


PEGASUS

Ray's beautiful model of the legendary winged horse Pegasus that appears in Clash of the Titans (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

Ray's last but also his technically greatest film was Clash of the Titans (1981), a breathtaking mythological melange of a movie in which strands and characters from a number of different classical legends are deftly woven together to create a thrilling storyline that loosely centres upon the dramatic saga of the Greek hero Perseus and his daring rescue of the princess Andromeda from a horrific sea monster. The winged horse Pegasus, ridden here by Perseus during his ultimately successful bid to save Andromeda, didn't actually feature in the original version of this particular legend – instead, Perseus had been equipped with winged sandals presented to him by Hermes, whereas Pegasus had borne an entirely different hero, Bellerophon, during his battle with the monstrous Chimaera. Nevertheless, Pegasus's inclusion provides a truly scintillating additional spark of movie magic to what is already a spellbinding, highly suspenseful tale of monsters and mystery, and which even incorporates a Nordic interloper in the shape of the Kraken, no less – or at least its name, which is understandable, given that the Greek sea monster's original name, Cetus (from which 'cetacean' is derived, the formal zoological term for all whales, dolphins, and porpoises), would certainly have been far less dramatic or memorable to movie-goers.

Ray was once asked where he had derived his inspiration for choreographing and animating Pegasus in flight, as it seemed so natural, so realistic. In reply, he revealed that he had consulted what he personally considered to be the finest source in existence relating to such matters – namely, the idyllic scene from Disney's immortal animated film Fantasia (1940) that features a phalanx of winged horses flying through the sky before spiralling downwards to land gracefully upon a pastel-hued lake like a flock of equine swans (click here to view this enchanting scene – one of my all-time favourite animated sequences, set to the lyrical theme arising midway through the third movement of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony). Additionally, click here to view a short documentary segment featuring Ray talking about how Pegasus was designed for realistic flight, and also including some excerpts from Clash of the Titans featuring the winged steed in action.


BUBO

Bubo, the living mechanical owl with metallic plumage from Clash of the Titans (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

Also appearing in Clash of the Titans is Bubo, a living mechanical owl created from brass and iron by the fire god Hephaestus as a metallic replica of the real Bubo, the wise pet owl of Athena, goddess of knowledge and wisdom. Its function, as dictated by Zeus, the supreme Greek god and also father of Perseus, is to lead Perseus to the Graeae or Grey Sisters (aka the Stygian Witches), who, albeit only with great reluctance, will tell him how to defeat the Kraken. Click here to view Bubo's somewhat less than dignified debut in the company of Perseus, when he unwarily perches upon a dead branch and unceremoniously crashes to the ground (Bubo, that is – not Perseus!).

Ray's Bubo model was intricately constructed by him from golden and silver-coloured metal, and was radio-controlled when in the presence of the movie's actors and actresses – a dazzling cast list of thespians that include such celebrated stars of stage and screen as Sir Laurence Olivier (Zeus), Claire Bloom (Hera), Maggie Smith (the sea goddess Thetis), Ursula Andress (Aphrodite), Sian Phillips (Queen Cassiopeia), and the then still-upcoming actor Harry Hamlin as Perseus.


MEDUSA

A petrifying (in every sense) portrayal of Medusa the gorgon – Ray's terrifying model that features in Clash of the Titans (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

The Stygian Witches inform Perseus that the Kraken can only be killed with the head of the gorgon Medusa, whose dreadful eyes even when dead would instantly turn to stone any living thing that gazed directly at them. So it becomes Perseus's quest to seek out and slay Medusa, but it will be no easy task, given that he can look at her only indirectly, via her mirrored reflection on the surface of his highly-polished shield.

In the original Greek myth, Medusa was once an inordinately beautiful maiden before being transformed into her now-monstrous snake-haired, petrifying form by Athena after Medusa had been assaulted by Poseidon in Athena's temple, an act that the goddess deemed to be a defilement of her earthly abode (despite the fact that Medusa had been the innocent party!). Nevertheless, Medusa retains her comely body and lissom legs. Ray, however, considered that for her to be an effective on-screen monster, Medusa needed to be much more frightening in form, and so in the extremely detailed bronze model that he constructed he replaced her traditional human lower torso and legs with the limbless body of a giant serpent, and even added at the tip of its tail a large vibrating rattle as famously borne by rattlesnakes, as well as equipping her with a bow and quiver of deadly arrows to shoot at anyone entering her temple hideaway who was skilful enough to evade her lethal stare. Click here to view the nightmarish battle between Perseus and Medusa staged within the sinister torch-lit semi-darkness of the temple's silent, shadowy interior. And click here to read a ShukerNature article of mine concerning not only Medusa herself but also a host of real-life gorgon-dubbed creatures from the past and the present.


HYDRA

Ray's spectacular seven-headed, twin-tailed hydra model that is utilised in Jason and the Argonauts (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

Ray's ingenuity for improvisation and adaptation was by no means limited to his vision of how Medusa should appear on screen. Other notable examples include his two-headed roc in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958) and his giant horn-skulled troglodyte in Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977). Moreover, in Jason and the Argonauts (1963), one of the Greek hero Jason's many monstrous antagonists encountered during his quest for the fabled Golden Fleece is the multi-headed hydra that in classical Greek mythology was actually confronted by Heracles instead, its eventual defeat being the second of his twelve great labours (click here for further details). In that latter legend, the hydra was generally described as nine-headed, but Ray considered that it would be too difficult to animate effectively nine independent heads and necks via Stop-Motion techniques, so he reduced its quota to seven. Possibly to compensate for this, however, he provided it with a bifurcated tail.

In this movie, the hydra guards the tree upon which the glittering Golden Fleece is suspended, whereas in the original Greek myth it was guarded by a never-sleeping single-headed dragon as well as by a herd of brass-hoofed bulls that breathed fire and whose teeth if planted in the ground would transform into an army of soldiers. Ray skilfully utilised this latter characteristic, with the teeth of the hydra if planted in the ground transforming into an army of deathless fighting skeletons. Click here to view Jason's epic battle with the multi-headed hydra. And don’t forget to check out my Eclectarium blog article here concerning the history of another iconic monster from this same movie – Talos, the giant bronze statue that disconcertingly comes to life and relentlessly pursues Jason and his fellow Argonauts as they desperately strive to escape his lethal metallic clutches (click here to view this decidedly eerie scene).


FIGHTING SKELETONS

Two fighting skeletons that appeared in Jason and the Argonauts (photos © Dr Karl Shuker)

One of Ray's most celebrated accomplishments in Stop-Motion animation was undoubtedly his bringing to the screen those spectacular scenes featuring armies of fighting skeletons, raised up from the ground as deathless warriors to strike terror – as well as any weapons that they are brandishing! – into the hearts of their mortal opponents. They appear most famously in Jason and the Argonauts (1963), when King Aeëtes sows into the ground the teeth of the hydra newly slain by Jason; after Aeëtes then prays to Hecate, goddess of witchcraft, a company of seven weapon-armed living skeletons – 'the Children of Hydra's Teeth' – rises up out of the ground and furiously attacks Jason and two companions. After a prolonged battle in which both of his companions are killed by them, Jason successfully escapes their clutches by leaping into the sea where he is rescued by the Argonauts aboard their vessel.

In his fascinating book, Film Fantasy Scrapbook (1981), in which he provided numerous behind-the-scenes recollections and inside information for each of his movies, Ray Harryhausen made the following very insightful comments concerning what he referred to as the Skeleton Sequence in Jason and the Argonauts: "Technically, it was unprecedented in the sphere of fantasy filming. When one pauses to contemplate that there were seven skeletons fighting three men, with each skeleton having five appendages to move in each frame of film, this means that an unprecedented 35 animated movements had to be synchronized with three live actors' movements; so one can readily see why it took four and a half months to record the sequence for the screen". Click here to view the fruits of Ray's Herculean labours in creating this extraordinary scene.


CERATOSAURUS

Ray's model of the horn-snouted Ceratosaurus from One Million Years BC (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

In real life, Ceratosaurus was a theropod dinosaur from the Late Jurassic Period, approximately 150 million years ago. In Ray's British-made movie One Million Years BC, conversely, released in 1966, it co-exists with primitive cave-dwelling humans (including Loana, a very voluptuous cave-woman played by none other than Raquel Welch), as do many other officially long-vanished prehistoric beasts, such as pterosaurs, Brontosaurus, Allosaurus, and the gargantuan sea turtle Archelon. Yet although chronologically incongruous, as with all of Ray's movies the monsters are truly marvellous, but perhaps the single most memorable scene is a lengthy set-piece battle between a Ceratosaurus and a Triceratops, which the latter eventually wins, leaving behind the severely stunned but still breathing Ceratosaurus lying prone and gasping upon the ground. For increased dramatic effect, the Ceratosaurus is about twice as big as it would have been in real life. Click here to watch their gladiatorial conflict!

In another extremely memorable scene from this same movie (click here to view it), Loana is abducted by a very big pterosaur, specifically a Pteranodon, carrying her aloft in its talons to its nest into which it is just about to drop her in order for its hungry offspring to devour her when it is itself attacked by another pterosaur, this time a giant Rhamphorhynchus. During the resulting mid-air melée between these two mighty flying reptiles (click here to view it), Loana is inadvertently dropped by her original abductor, falling wounded but still alive into the sea as the pterosaurs fly away, still locked together in mortal combat.


MODELS BY ALAN FRISWELL, AND ORIGINAL ARTWORKS BY RAY

Two displayed models created by Alan Friswell – a Rhamphorhynchus pterosaur and a Tenontosaurus dinosaur (models © Alan Friswell; photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

In addition to those of Ray, some models produced by Alan Friswell were also displayed in the exhibition. One of these was a Rhamphorhynchus pterosaur, which, as I have learnt from Alan, was one of his earliest Stop-Motion creations. Another, made by Alan about 15 years ago, was a very impressive Tenontosaurus – a herbivorous ornithopod dinosaur from the Early Cretaceous, related to (and also morphologically reminiscent of) the more famous Iguanodon, and which browsed upon ferns and shrubs. And a third model, one of Alan's specialities, was a superb full-sized Feejee mermaid.

Also on display was a model of the boy Lope from The Valley of Gwangi, and which is of especial significance, because this was the model originally given by Ray to Alan to work upon as a test of his restoration skills, which in turn so impressed him that he duly gave Alan the position of official restorer of all of his models.

The model of Lope (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

Speaking of which: the very detailed, annulated shell of the earlier-mentioned giant ammonite/nautiloid mollusc on display here was actually made by Alan, upon Ray's request, because the original had been lost many years previously.

So too had the Grand Lunar's crystal throne, and once more upon Ray's request Alan had manufactured a replacement, as well as creating a sturdier replica of Grand Lunar himself – and again it is actually Alan's versions of these latter two models that are on display, because although the original Grand Lunar still exists, it is far too fragile to be transported anywhere.

Alan Friswell's self-made Feejee mermaid on display (model © Alan Friswell; photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

Also present in the exhibition was a framed selection of Ray's original artworks, produced by him as preparatory and guide illustrations for various of his movies.

Four of my favourite examples, seen here, show a cowboy chasing the Ornithomimus in The Valley of Gwangi; training El Diablo the Eohippus to be a circus performer in the same movie; an escaped Gwangi rampaging in the city; and Medusa confronting a couple of would-be slayers inside her temple hideaway from Clash of the Titans.

Four original artworks by Ray Harryhausen (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)


AND FINALLY…

Many years ago, I was delighted to obtain Ray's autograph framed alongside a photograph of him posing with his Medusa model from Clash of the Titans. Never did I ever imagine that one day I too would be photographed alongside it. Truly an example, albeit a highly unexpected one for me, of the great Circle of Life?

If you too are a fan of Ray Harryhausen and his exceptional contributions to the world of science fiction and fantasy cinema, you really do need to visit this awesome exhibition and see for yourself, as I did, some of his extraordinary creations that by virtue of his spellbinding Stop-Motion skills he was able to conjure forth in the living state on screen – a veritable magician of the movies, no less, infused with the power to resurrect dinosaurs, reanimate skeletons, and breathe tangible vitality into an entire menagerie of monsters that had never previously thrived outside the confines of human imagination. Click here to read coverage of this exhibition on the official website of The Ray & Diana Harryhausen Foundation.

The upper side (top) and under side (bottom) of Valence House Museum's official flyer for this exhibition (© Valence House Museum – reproduced here on a strictly educational, non-commercial Fair Use basis, for review purposes only)

NB – Except for the Feejee mermaids and Alan Friswell's other models, all models and artworks depicted above in my photographs for this ShukerNature review article are © The Ray & Diana Harryhausen Foundation.

About 15 years ago, I was most surprised but also very delighted to see – and purchase – at a movie memorabilia collector's fair held in England a sizeable plastic replica of the savage cyclopoid centaur created by Ray that battles Sinbad and also a griffin in the second of his three Sinbad-themed fantasy movies, The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973). Click here to watch this monumental battle.

My replica of the cyclopoid centaur from The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)

In addition, I've seen photographs of a splendid large-scale model of the winged homunculus from The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, as well as of an equally eye-catching one of the ymir, a giant reptilian alien life-form from 20 Million Miles to Earth (1957). Unfortunately, however, I've never seen any actual examples of either of these models anywhere.

Last but definitely not least in this Harryhausen celebration: here is a photograph of my above-mentioned framed autograph of Ray:

My framed autograph of the late, truly great Ray Harryhausen (1920-2013), featuring alongside him in the accompanying illustration Medusa in full model form and also as a larger-scale head/shoulders model, as well as Bubo, Gwangi's Styracosaurus opponent, one of Jason's living skeleton foes, and the evil, accursed half-man/half-beast Prince Calibos from Clash of the Titans (photo © Dr Karl Shuker)




Friday, 14 August 2015

MEDIEVAL SNAIL-CATS IN ILLUMINATED MANUSCRIPTS - OR, CURIOUS CRITTERS FROM THE MENAGERIE OF MARGINALIA


A snail-cat, depicted in the Maastricht Hours – an illuminated devotional manuscript produced in the Netherlands during the early 1300s (public domain)

After my exhaustive books Mystery Cats of the World (1989) and Cats of Magic, Mythology, and Mystery (2012) were published, I might have been forgiven for thinking that I must surely have documented a representative selection of examples for every anomalous feline form ever recorded – but I would have been wrong, as now revealed here.


The vast assembly of curious creatures inhabiting the exquisite world wrought by generations of medieval monks and lay artists laboriously creating illuminated manuscripts of religious tracts and other devotional works is like none other anywhere in the history of zoological artwork. Alongside such stalwarts of classical Western mythology as dragons, unicorns, griffins, wildmen, and demons are all manner of truly bizarre entities that are commonly termed grotesques, for good reason. Impossible hybrids, crossbreeds, and composites of every conceivable (and inconceivable!) combination, they exhibit a surreal 'mix 'n' match' approach to morphology, deftly and effortlessly uniting the head(s) of one species with the limbs of a second, the wings of a third, and the body of who knows what from who knows where. In cases where these grotesques are more comical than frightening in form, however, they are generally referred to as drolleries.

As mentioned in previous ShukerNature blog articles and other publications of mine, I've always been especially interested in the more unusual contingent of animal life –real, imaginary, and those somewhere in between (I believe the term that I'm looking for here is cryptozoology!). Consequently, it should come as no surprise to learn that this marginalia menagerie, i.e. the zoological monsters and monstrosities lurking amid the margins (and sometimes cavorting among the illuminated letters too) of medieval manuscripts, have long held a particular fascination for me, and I have spent many long but very pleasant hours scrutinising examples from these sources as depicted in books, articles, and online, as well as sometimes directly examining such manuscripts themselves, thus embarking upon an entertaining if unequivocally esoteric safari seeking cryptic creatures of the decidedly uncommon and uncanny kind.

A virginal maiden attended by a spotted unicorn, depicted in the Maastricht Hours (public domain)

Thus it was that I was recently delighted to encounter not one but three different examples of a particular mini-monster of the marginalia variety that I had never previously spotted within the medieval manuscripts' sequestered yet richly ornate realm of emblazoned folios and ornamented parchment. Moreover, unlike so many others sharing its domain, this creature exhibited a well-defined, memorable – even quaint – form, an engaging little drollery combining the whorled shell of a snail with a cat's emerging head and neck (sometimes its front paws too). And so, gentle reader, without further ado I give you the snail-cat – or, should you prefer it, the cat-snail.

(Incidentally, as will be revealed later here, the artistic motif of animals housed in snail shells is by no means confined to cats. On the contrary, so many variations upon this molluscan theme are on record, including humans as well as animals, that these entities even have their very own term – malacomorphs, which translates as 'shell forms'.)

Back to the snail-cats: out of this current trio of molluscan moggies (or feline malacomorphs, to employ the more technical moniker for such incongruous crossbreeds), the first one to come to my attention did so while I was browsing through the British Library's online digital version (click here) of the Maastricht Hours – a sumptuously illustrated version of the once-popular book of hours. But what is a book of hours?

A manticore bishop with curlicue tail, from the Maastricht Hours (public domain)

Back in the 12th Century, the most common books owned by families in Europe wealthy enough to possess such items were psalters – which normally contained the 150 psalms of the Old Testament and a liturgical calendar. They were also beautifully illustrated by monks. Subsequently developed from the psalter was the breviary, which contained all the liturgical texts for the Office (aka the canonical prayers), whether said in choir or in private. During the 14th Century, however, books of hours appeared on the scene. A type of prayer book designed for laypeople, they largely eclipsed psalters and breviaries, and whereas these latter works had been illuminated predominantly by monks (monasteries being the principal producers of books back then), books of hours could be commissioned by the wealthy from professional scribes and lay-owned illuminators in towns and cities, and many of these beautiful works still survive today. Here is Wikipedia's definition of the book of hours:

The book of hours is a Christian devotional book popular in the Middle Ages. It is the most common type of surviving medieval illuminated manuscript. Like every manuscript, each manuscript book of hours is unique in one way or another, but most contain a similar collection of texts, prayers and psalms, often with appropriate decorations, for Christian devotion. Illumination or decoration is minimal in many examples, often restricted to decorated capital letters at the start of psalms and other prayers, but books made for wealthy patrons may be extremely lavish, with full-page miniatures.

Books of hours were usually written in Latin (the Latin name for them is horae), although there are many entirely or partially written in vernacular European languages, especially Dutch. The English term primer is usually now reserved for those books written in English. Tens of thousands of books of hours have survived to the present day, in libraries and private collections throughout the world.

Unidentified creature in the Maastricht Hours (public domain)

The typical book of hours is an abbreviated form of the breviary which contained the Divine Office recited in monasteries. It was developed for lay people who wished to incorporate elements of monasticism into their devotional life. Reciting the hours typically centered upon the reading of a number of psalms and other prayers. A typical book of hours contains:

·                     A Calendar of Church feasts
·                     An excerpt from each of the four gospels
·                     The Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary
·                     The fifteen Psalms of Degrees
·                     The seven Penitential Psalms
·                     A Litany of Saints
·                     An Office for the Dead
·                     The Hours of the Cross
·                     Various other prayers

In its Catalogue of Illumination Manuscripts, the British Library lists the Maastricht Hours as MS [Manuscript] Stowe 17. Written in Latin (using Gothic script), but with a calendar and final prayers in French, it was produced during the first quarter of the 14th Century in Liège, the Netherlands, probably for a noblewoman, who may be represented as a kneeling female figure in several places throughout the manuscript. It is lavishly illustrated throughout, and its margins in particular are crammed with all manner of grotesque beasts and other figures, often engaged in bizarre, surprising forms of behaviour, especially so in view of their setting – a religious devotional book.

A fiddle-playing dog in the Maastricht Hours (public domain)

Handsomely bound in blind-tooled blue leather, it was once owned by Richard Temple-Nugent-Brydges-Chandos-Grenville (1776-1839), 1st Duke of Buckingham and Chandos, who resided at Stowe House, near Buckingham in Buckinghamshire, England, where it formed part of the famous Stowe Library (hence its Stowe designation by the British Library). After a series of intervening changes of hand, however, it was finally purchased in 1883 by the British Museum, together with 1084 other Stowe manuscripts.

The Maastricht Hours consists of 273 folios. Like other manuscripts from the Middle Ages, it was bound without page numbers. In relation to such manuscripts, the term 'folio' (commonly abbreviated to 'fol' or simply 'f') is used in place of 'page', and the front or top side of each folio is referred to as the recto ('r'), with the back or under side of each folio being the verso ('v'). Consequently, as examples of how folios are designated in such manuscripts, the front side of a manuscript's fifth folio would be referred to as f 5r, and the back of the manuscript's 17th folio as f 17v. Bearing in mind that some consist of as many as 300 folios or even more, illuminated manuscripts housed in libraries sometimes have the respective number of each constituent folio lightly pencilled upon its recto side's top-right corner, for ease of access to specific folios.

Folio 185 recto (f 185r) of the Maastricht Hours, depicting a scowling snail-cat (public domain)

On f 185r of the Maastricht Hours, which contains a prayer for the family of the book's owner, a scowling snail-cat is clearly visible, perched upon an illuminated curl sweeping underneath the prayer. Its shell is dextral in shape, i.e. its whorls spiral to the right, and disproving the opinion of some writers who have suggested that perhaps snail-cats depicted in medieval manuscripts are simply ordinary domestic cats sitting inside empty (albeit exceedingly large!) snail shells with their head and neck sticking out of the shell's aperture, this particular snail-cat confirms its bona fide hybrid nature by sporting a pair of antenna-like snail stalks on top of its head. Unlike those of real snails, however, its stalks do not bear eyes at their tips – its eyes being set in its face instead, like those of normal cats.

Close-up of the Maastricht Hours snail-cat (public domain)

Incidentally, the specific conformation of this snail-cat's shell is very reminiscent of a fossil ammonite shell. Who knows – perhaps one of the illuminators working on the Maastricht Hours had seen such a specimen at some time, and incorporated its form into his snail-cat's design.

The Maastricht Hours snail-cat compared with a fossil shell from the common British ammonite Peltoceras; the latter illustration is from C.P. Castell's book British Mesozoic Fossils (BMNH, 1962)  (public domain/© C.P. Castell/BMNH - inclusion here strictly on Fair Use/non-commercial basis only)

But this is not the only shelly surprise contained within this manuscript's folios. Several other entities of equally unexpected shell-bearing status can also be found here, as now shown.

Snail-youth on f 8r and in close-up (public domain)

The head and shoulders of a curly-headed youth(?) emerge from a sinistral shell (its whorls spiralling to the left) at the bottom of f 8r, as do those of an unidentified horned ungulate at the bottom of f 11r.

Enshelled unidentified ungulate on f 11r and in close-up (public domain)

A bearded dextral-shelled snail-man with emerging upper torso including arms can be seen at the bottom of f 193v:

Snail-man on f 193v and in close-up (public domain)

A dextral-shelled snail-goat appears on f 222v:

Snail-goat on f 222v and in close-up (public domain)

And on f 272r a woman is shown dancing before a smaller dextral-shelled snail-human whose face has been obscured by wear and tear of the book down through the centuries.

Woman dancing before smaller snail-human on f 272r and in close-up (public domain)

Whoever produced the artwork for this manuscript evidently had a serious passion for manufacturing malacomorphs!

My second snail-cat turned up in the Bibliothèque Mazarine's MS 62, NT Épîtres de Saint Paul (originally the personal library of Cardinal Mazarin, the celebrated Italian cardinal and diplomat who served as Chief Minister to the French monarchy from 1642 until his death in 1661, the Bibliothèque Mazarine is the oldest public library in France). As its title suggests, this manuscript contains the Epistles of St Paul from the New Testament, written in the Vulgate Latin translation. It consists of 149 folios, dates from the final quarter of the 14th Century, and was originally owned by the Convent of the Minimes in the village of Nigeon, located on the hill of Chaillot, near Paris.

F 70v of the Bibliothèque Mazarine's MS 62, NT Épîtres de Saint Paul, revealing the presence of a snail-cat in the left-hand margin (public domain)

On f 70v of this manuscript, one of the quadrants in the elaborately illuminated margin's left-hand side contains a delightful snail-cat, one that in sharp contrast to the distinctly unfriendly version in the Maastricht Hours is happily smiling, is housed within a sinistral snail shell, and is revealing its front paws. It lacks the snail horns of the Maastricht snail-cat, but its ears are unusually long and pointed.

Close-up of the snail-cat in f 70v of the Bibliothèque Mazarine's MS 62, NT Épîtres de Saint Paul (public domain)

As with the Maastricht Hours, moreover, its snail-cat is not the only malacomorph drollery present in this manuscript. Browsing through its complete collection of illuminated folios online (click here), I also spotted a snail-griffin on f 89v whose shell is attached solely to its haunches, with the rest of its body entirely external to it; a bearded human-headed snail-monster on f 102v; and a strange dog-like snail-monster bearing what resembles a reverse coxcomb upon its head on f 112.

Snail-griffin (top left), human-headed snail-monster (top right), and dog-like coxcombed snail-monster (bottom), from the Bibliothèque Mazarine's MS 62, NT Épîtres de Saint Paul (public domain)

Snail-cat #3 appears in a Paris-originating book of hours manuscript entitled Horae ad Usum Parisiensem, which dates from the final quarter of the 15th Century, consists of 190 folios plus four additional folios in parchment, and is written in Latin. It is held in the National Library of France's Department of Manuscripts, but can be viewed in its entirety online here.

Its snail-cat appears on f 187r, and like the previous example it is smiling with front paws present outside its shell, whose whorls spiral in a dextral configuration. Its ears are less pronounced and pointed than those of snail-cat #2, and it lacks the snail horns of snail-cat #1.

Snail-cat on f 187r and in two close-ups, from Horae ad Usum Parisiensem (public domain)

Whereas the illuminator of the Maastricht Hours exhibited a definite obsession with malacomorphs, the artist responsible for the marginalia menagerie in Horae ad Usum Parisiensem showed far more interest in composite centaurs, depicting a wide range of forms, but only one malacomorph other than the snail-cat. This second malacomorph is itself a composite, combining the turbaned head, arms, and upper torso of a man with a pair of large bat-like wings the lower torso and front paws of a leonine creature, and a sinistral snail shell; it appears on f 46r.

Composite malacomorph on f 46r from Horae ad Usum Parisiensem (public domain)

During my browsing of various other illuminated manuscripts online in recent times, I've collected a number of additional malacomorphs, and a small selection of the more interesting and unusual ones is presented below.

An unidentified (possibly porcine?) but unequivocally angry malacomorph appears on f 109v of esteemed Flemish author-poet Jacob van Maerlant's manuscript Van Der Naturen Bloeme, produced in The Hague, Netherlands, in c 1350. This is in turn a free translation of 13th-Century Brabant author Thomas of Cantimpré's 20-volume magnum opus De Natura Rerum.

Jacob van Maerlant's angry malacomorph (public domain)

The Luttrell Psalter is an illuminated manuscript produced sometime during 1325-1340 for the wealthy Luttrell family of Irnham in Lincolnshire, headed by Irnham's lord of the manor, Sir Geoffrey Luttrell, who commissioned its preparation. It consists of 309 folios, is written in Latin, and is now held in the British Library as Additional Manuscript (Add. MS) 42130, after having been acquired by the British Museum in 1929.

It is famous for its extraordinary array of truly monstrous marginalia grotesques, prepared by anonymous illuminators. Indeed, in her fascinating book Monsters and Grotesques in Medieval Manuscripts (2002), Alixe Bovey, a curator in the British Library's Department of Manuscripts, notes that the realistic scenes of daily life on a medieval estate such as owned by the Luttrells as portrayed in this psalter are interspersed with:

…creatures of such startling monstrosity that they prompted one scholar to comment that 'the mind of a man who could deliberately set himself to ornament a book with such subjects…can hardly have been normal'. While it seems unwise to use the margins of the Luttrell Psalter to diagnose the mental condition of its artists, there can be no doubt that the artist who illuminated many of its pages had an exceptionally fertile imagination.

Indeed he did, and as proof of that, here is a noteworthy avian malacomorph that appears on f 171v of the Luttrell Psalter:

Avian malacomorph from the Luttrell Psalter (public domain)

The Hours of Joanna the Mad is an illuminated book of hours manuscript that had originally been owned by Joanna of Castile (1479-1555), the (controversially) mentally-ill consort of Philip the Handsome, king of Castile. It had been produced for her in the city of Bruges (in what is now Belgium) some time between 1486 and 1506, but is now held as Add. MS 18852 in the British Library. As with so many others of its kind, this illuminated manuscript's margins are plentifully supplied with grotesques and drolleries, including a couple of very distinctive malacomorphs – one of which is a bearded snail-man, the other a snail-stag.

The bearded snail-man, from f 91r in the Hours of Joanna the Mad (public domain)

A mirror-image pair of snail-stags from f 305r and f 305v (hence they do not face each other, but I've realigned them to do so here) in the Hours of Joanna the Mad (public domain)

An antiphonary is one of the liturgical books intended for use in the liturgical choir, and many medieval examples were elaborately illuminated. One of these is the multi-volume antiphony produced during the 1400s for the Augustinian monastery of San Gaggio (i.e. Pope St Caius) in Florence, Italy, and among its numerous marginalia is a collared snail-dog, with horns or horn-like ears:

Collared snail-dog from the Antiphony of San Gaggio (public domain)

The Tours MS 0008 manuscript held by the Bibliothèque Municipale in Tours, France, dates from c.1320, originated in Spain, and consists of an illuminated Bible with Latin text, which contains a veritable pantheon of marginalia, including two appearances by snail-goats. In one of these appearances, the horned, beardy-chinned malacomorph in question is defiantly sticking its tongue out at a knight about to shoot it with an arrow (on f 89r); and in the other (on f 327v), it is using its tongue to do something unmentionable to a certain part of a nearby monkey's anatomy!

Two snail-goats in the Tours MS 0008 manuscript (public domain)

The Breviary of Renaud de Bar is MS 107 in the collections of the Bibliothèque Municipale in Verdun, France. Dating from the early 1300s, it was commissioned for Renaud de Bar, the bishop of Metz, by his sister, Marguerite, who was the abbess of Abby St Maur. On f 97r is a snail-monk holding a forked club; similarly, on f 107 v, a snail-woman is wielding a forked club and also holding a shield as she confronts a girl wearing nothing but a cap and a mantle that she is holding open towards the malacomorph like some medieval flasher! And on f 160v, yet another forked club is being parried, this time by a man with a shield opposing a rearing snail-goat with long curved horns.

Three scenes featuring marginalia malacomorphs from the Breviary of Renaud de Bar (public domain)

The Varie Hours is an exceedingly ornate illuminated book of hours commissioned by 15th-Century French court official Simon de Varie. Completed in 1455, it was subsequently divided into three volumes; the first two are held at the National Library of the Netherlands in The Hague, the third at the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles, USA.

What is especially interesting in terms of its profuse array of marginalia is that this particular book of hours depicts malacomorphs of a fundamentally different nature from those hitherto observed by me in illuminated manuscripts. For instead of possessing spherical spiralled shells like typical land snails, they sport long, pointed spiralled shells similar to those of certain marine gastropods such as Turritella. Two of these atypical malacomorphs can be found on the same folio – f 72 in Vol. 3 – one of which is a snail-goat (at the bottom), and the other (at the top) a composite with the head of a bearded be-turbaned man but the furry upper torso and pawed forelegs of an undetermined animal.

Two malacomorphs on f 72 in Vol. 3 of the Varie Hours (public domain/courtesy of the J. Paul Getty Museum)

Returning once more to snail-cats, and having established that the snail-cat motif is not unique to a single illuminated manuscript, the obvious question now needing to be answered is: what – if anything – does it represent? In medieval lore, each type of animal was invested with certain attributes and thus came to symbolise various specific human emotions and characteristics – love, apathy, piety, hatred, power, deceit, joy, sinfulness, charity, betrayal, loyalty, greed, honesty, lust, virtue, and so forth.

In view of its famous slowness of pace, in Christian symbolism the snail came to epitomise the deadly sin of sloth and laziness. And the cat fared little better in such symbolism, traditionally deemed to personify lasciviousness and cruelty, and to be in league with the forces of darkness. Consequently, it does not bode well for a snail-cat present in a Christian illuminated manuscript to symbolise anything positive or benevolent.

Having said that, however, there is no indication that these feline malacomorphs were intended to signify anything at all. This is because their appearances as marginalia in various folios from such manuscripts seem not to correspond in any way with the main content or text of those particular folios. The same is also true not only for other malacomorphs but also for many marginalia grotesques and drolleries in general.

A typically surreal example of marginalia (on f 145r) from the Luttrell Psalter (public domain)

If anything, their presence often tends to be more subversive than pertinent, i.e. suggesting that the illuminators have inserted them as sly or playful attempts to mock, deflate, or even act as light, comic relief to the strictly serious, devotional nature of the folios' principal content rather than to instruct or act in any kind of directly relevant, contextual manner.

Moreover, in some cases this phantasmagorical menagerie of marginalia might be nothing more significant than the product of illuminators' attempts to stave off boredom when faced with the exceedingly long and very tedious task of copying or illuminating a major manuscript.

In short, snail-cats and various other bizarre fauna of the folios may simply be medieval doodles, originally executed centuries ago merely as brief, functionless escapes from ennui, but cherished today in their own right as fascinating, captivating fantasies that add charm, surprise, and not a little rebellion to the sternly religious literary abodes in which they linger and lurk, always ready to startle unwary readers with their extraordinary forms and outrageous, humorous behaviour – and long may they continue to do so!

Close-up of the snail-stag from f 305v in the Hours of Joanna the Mad (public domain)