At the ripe age of 80, Hildegard of Bingen lay dying in the Benedictine nunnery of Rupertsberg, under the jurisdiction of the Mainz diocese. Living that many years was uncommon for most people at that time, but not for monks and nuns, whose health was favourably influenced by the disciplined routine and dietary habits of monastic life. Hildegard had not only been the nunnery’s abbess: she was also a knowledgeable writer, a charismatic leader, and –in my opinion– a philosopher. I’m aware of my challenging the widespread opinion that sees Hildegard as a ‘visionary’, a descriptor I believe to be misleading. Hildegard’s writings, in fact, were not solely focused on theology: many revolved around what at the time was known as ‘natural philosophy’, or –as we would call it today– ‘physics’. How did the universe begin? What is the fundamental matter making up all things of the world? What about natural phenomena? And what about ethics? She tackled these topics with the same knowledge and resources of her illustrious peers in Chartres and Paris. Her knowledge wasn’t limited to what was in the Bible and in the works of the Fathers of the Church: Hildegard was thoroughly knowledgeable about many philosophical and medical theories of the past, including Hermeticism, a knowledge she reached through paths that remain unknown. She believed that «all philosophy was born in Abraham» and manifests itself through reason; and that she, who had not received any formal education, did comprehend the prophets’ and philosophers’ teachings. What is truly unique about Hildegard is the medium through which she chose to share these ideas: visions. This highly visual narration was born out of –she said– a revelation from the Voice, or the Light. Hildegard treasured these visions in her memory, and eventually saw the truth. Her writing style, which she described as ‘simple and rough’ while experts today like to describe as original and powerful, was an elegant mix of images, colours, and symbols. The reason for this must be also found in being a woman and thus forbidden from entering academic institutions and using a formal vocabulary. Her teachings needed to receive a metaphysical stamp of approval from Above: this would grant them an aura of authority which would no longer be subjected to doubt and would eventually have her exchange letters with some of the most important, powerful, and knowledgeable men of her time.

But what exactly was it that Hildegard saw and wrote about? In Scivias, one of her most important works, she explains her own theological system to the reader, from the Creation of the world, to the Fall of Adam from heavens and the establishing of the Church and its sacraments. In Liber de vita meritorum, Hildegard has the Winged Man as the very core of the Cosmos – symbol of eternal divinity, immutable and immanent and agent in the world, a divine nature which is akin to a life-giving fire burning deep inside of everything and everyone. This same theme returns in De operatione Dei, a witness to her dedication and pain-staking labour. In this book, Hildegard lets the reader glimpse at the powerful imagery born from a symbolic world, a world which is strikingly resemblant to her own: man as the right hand of God; the world as a macrocosm, just as alive as the microcosm that is man; the Soul of the world and its underlying harmony. These are all thoughts stemming from her hope of gaining access to the divine through human reason and virtue. Love sees the world as theophany and Love sees itself in the workings of Reason: the Word belongs to Love and, through it, creation comes into being.

In all her writings, we can find original and surprising theories. For example, while recounting the ancient doctrine of the four humours in Causae et curae, Hildegard analyses the difference between the melancholic temperament in men and women. She goes into detail describing how an excess of melancholy arouses lust-like and frenetic feelings in men: the melancholic man is bitter, greedy, lacking in wisdom, and bearing a sense of death on his shoulders; he desires women but he doesn’t love them, he hunts them down like a wolf at night or a strong wind shaking a house, his embrace is all but warm. The melancholic woman lacks resilience and is scatter-minded, after sexual intercourse she feels worn out and can’t speak gently to the men she doesn’t truly love, who – in turn – turn her away. Sometimes the force of love washes over her, but she soon forgets all about it. Her life would be better if she did not marry, she would live stronger and healthier…

Worth noticing is her positive attitude towards carnal relations between men and women, a relationship with many differences between the sexes when it comes to pleasure (delectatio). In Causae et curae, Hildegard describes a man’s love akin to a fire burning everything in its path, while that of a woman resembles the warmth coming from the Sun which aids fruits in their growth.

It’s an unforeseen but pleasant turn of events that the writings of a wise nun – a prominent figure in the monastic world – were to represent the arrival of a new language and more positive approach to sexuality, so unlike the ascetic mindset of the Early Middle Ages.


Translated by Arianna Premoli.