The writer Rafael Chirbes in his studio in Beniarbeig (Alicante) Jesús Císcar
The history of mankind is the history of epidemics and their transmission. This is what Rafael Chirbes tells us in one of the entries in his diaries (Anagrama, 2021), later to direct the sharpness of his critique of Europe of the Christian Baroque, whose thought was reinforced by the Council of Trent (1545 -1563), where the Catholic faith is firmly anchored to this day.
From that moment on, the human body is officially treated as a carrier of diseases, direct contact being the means of transmission of these diseases. “The bodies are sacks full of dirt, viruses are released,” says Chirbes, who has not skimped on friction and body experiments, as he himself shamelessly describes on the pages of his everyday life. “Regardless of what the priests say” physical contact is a serious matter for Chirbes.
Despite what the priests say, physical contact was serious business for Chirbes
There is a moment when Chirbes, far from the monstrosity inherited from the Council of Trent, quotes François Rabelais (1494-1553), the doctor who wrote a series of books inspired by popular tradition in which he Ridicule and excess used to explain and criticize the world. Pantagruel and Gargantua are two giants invented by Rabelais to amuse the sick, as he made clear in his dedication where the fictions written by Rabelais are given the consolation of “Buveurs très illustres et précieux vérolés” (from French: very famous and precious drinkers), sick people bitten by the so-called bad French, or syphilis.
The giant Gargantua, engraving by Gustave Doré (1854)
When syphilis first appeared on the European continent, it was called “grosse vérole” to distinguish it from smallpox, while smallpox was “petite vérole”. This is just the beginning, entering a world where the medicine of the time pops up in every corner of history with quotes from medical figures like Hippocrates or Galen, along with allusions to diseases where religion dominates the scientific field. Without further elaborating, there are references in Rabelais’ tales to the disease once known as St. Anthony’s Fire, now known as ergotism.
It is an intoxication resulting from the ingestion of ergot, a parasitic fungus that contains an alkaloid called ergotamine, where lysergic acid is also synthesized, the hallucinogenic drug that the organism must have synthesized by Bosch (1450-1516), painter , who has crossed the doors of perception. In one of his works, the triptych entitled The Temptations of Saint Anthony, we find a cripple, a victim of gangrenous ergotism, the effects of which burn in the extremities; Hands, legs and arms that become wrinkled and black and whose only cure is amputation.
Rabelais talks about San Antonio fire disease, now known as ergotism: poisoning by a parasitic fungus that synthesizes lysergic acid
The fire name of San Antonio comes from the heat of the disease and because the monks of the Order of San Antonio are responsible for caring for the sick suffering from the disease. The recipe for curing them – if the ergotism hadn’t reached the extremities yet – was French toast made with wheat bread and soaked in wine.
At the end of the first book of Gargantua and Pantagruel, one of the characters urinates on the wall of a monastery dedicated to curing patients with ergotism. In another of his books, the fire of San Antonio is used to curse: “May the fire of San Antonio burn you if you don’t clean all your holes before you go!” And in this plan, the hooligan Rabelais created an immortal work, in which the science of time and sarcasm come together to entertain the sick whose minds delight in laughing at the world they have lived in. Hundreds of years later, Rafael Chirbes remembered him in his diaries.
you can follow THEME on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, or sign up here to receive our weekly newsletter.