Obviously, we’re living through an era of censorious puritanism. Granted, the contemporary creeds are different from those of the 16th century. But the imperious self–righteousness is much the same — which gives the entertaining little exhibition at the National Gallery entitled Sin an unexpectedly contemporary edge.
Personally, I’ve always thought that the doctrine of original sin has a great deal of explanatory power (it explains why history can’t ‘end’ and plenty of things will always go wrong — because that’s the way people are). Arguably, the medieval list of deadly failings — anger, pride, sloth, etc — provides a better summary of human nature than many later attempts. At any rate, all seven are still both prevalent and virulent (see news and social media, passim).
According to this traditional point of view, a painting such as Cranach’s ‘Adam and Eve’ (1526) depicts the moment when sin gets going. The picture also illustrates, beautifully, something many of us still believe: namely that the natural world is good and innocent (rather than full of creatures rending each other with tooth and claw).
All around the weak-willed couple are docile, beautifully depicted furry and feathery creatures including a wild boar, stag and heron. In this paradise all forms of life are benign — with the possible exception of reptiles, since the pair of humans are being tempted by a devilish snake.
Cranach was very good at animals, better than he was at drawing naked people (look at Eve’s rubbery legs). He also accomplished something often achieved by art: luring the spectator into transgression while staying, nominally, on the correct side of the line. Cranach’s naked Adam and Eve are plainly intended to appeal to the lustful. His ‘Venus and Cupid’, hanging next door, is almost identical in idiom.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in