You could live rich or poor, be handsome or ugly, stupid or wise, but your end is inevitable … Ruthless death knows no boundaries, death is not a joke. This death jokes with everyone, dances on the churchyards, bares its teeth and waves its bony hands.
Death in Europe is untidy, walks in a decayed shroud, or, at best, declares itself on the threshold of life in a black robe. She can ride a horse or a cart, shooting people with a bow. She runs the show, she's a triumphant.
Death holds a sword, a scythe, an hourglass, sometimes a coffin on a leash. In every country, death is represented in its own way. Both traditions and language influence this. So, in England and Germany, the death of the masculine is the Grim Reaper, skeleton, rider, victor.
He is not averse to flirting with a beautiful girl, but his jokes are rude and cold. And there is no need for a dead man to think about amorous affairs, he has other plans.
He did not come from a country where there is no time, no love, no joy, no repentance - all this remains on earth. The Grim Reaper comes suddenly - and mows down ordinary people and kings like old ears, pulls them out of their usual life, drags them to dance with him, despite tears, pleas and despair.
In Russia, Spain, France and Italy, death is female. However, the essence is still the same: the shape of the skull does not soften at all, the bones do not become more attractive. Nevertheless, the horror and fear of death did not always put pressure on European culture. Death was once an integral part of life. Anyone who is born must grow up and die, this is as normal as winter after autumn.
The man said goodbye to his family, laid off his duties and fell asleep until he woke up at the end of time. The historian Philippe Aries in his work "Man in the Face of Death" calls such a peaceful death "tamed death." Everything changes in the XII century. Epitaphs appear on the graves, funeral masses are ordered, the dying person explains in detail how and where to bury him.
The humility of previous ages in relation to death has come to an end, now sinful souls need redemption. Man no longer rests in anticipation of the resurrection, when everyone, except for the notorious ghouls and villains, will go to heaven. From now on, from the deathbed, the soul of the deceased stands in line for the inevitable and just judgment before God.
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Here there is something from which to panic and beg for leniency in advance, there is something to ask for help from the living. Let family and friends pray harder for the one who can no longer pray for mercy. But Europe learned the real mortal horror in 1347, when plague-infected ships arrived in the Mediterranean ports from the East.
The epidemic spread with great speed, people died in droves in a matter of days. The plague moved into a victorious march across Europe, followed by hunger, war and death - the horsemen of the Apocalypse, these unhurried heralds of the end of life do not travel alone.
Emaciated people were powerless before the disease, the scale of the disaster grew. The villages were on fire, the cities could not accommodate everyone in need of shelter. The corpses lay unburied for many days, the living did not repose their dead, there was simply no one to bury them.
In the painting and literature of that time, one subject reigns: the dance of death. She was called Totentanz in Germany, danse macabre in France, danza de ia muerte in Spain. The line of people is led by cheerful skeletons, some of them play musical instruments, new creepy dancers in fluttering shrouds rise around the coffins.
Death is followed by crying children, women, kings, lawyers, cardinals and the Pope himself, street musicians, itinerant merchants, noble ladies and knights - no one can escape the grim carnival. The first pictures with lines of dancers came from the German city of Würzburg in 1350, and since then they have circled all over the countries.
The popularity of this plot is associated with its universality and some sadistic justice: you could live rich or poor, be handsome or ugly, but your end is inevitable.
Pictures were readily bought up, they were used to decorate manuscripts, frescoes with rows of dancers were preserved on buildings. Sometimes the drawings were accompanied by verses: the dead complained that their hopes and dreams had gone to pieces, they could no longer correct themselves, death had cut them with a scythe, and only the Last Judgment lay ahead. And her greatness, Death, either blew on the tune and beat the drum, or calmly led the procession. Her skeletal messengers humbled those who resisted, drawing them into the ranks.
It is not entirely clear where the word "macabre" came from. They erect it now to the Arabic maqabir (coffins), then to the Old Testament warriors of the Maccabees, or the Crusaders brought this word, or by what means it came to Europe - but it doesn't matter anymore. The word stuck - and the continuous "Danemacabras" rushed.
By the way, the word danse in the Middle Ages meant, in addition to dancing, a fight and carnage. So, death has ceased to be pure and honest. The austere stone tombs and fine-looking statues were replaced by a disgusting mess of naked bodies, swollen, bursting, oozing ichor and pus, with open entrails where worms swarm.
Such is it, death that no one can escape. It cannot be said that the Middle Ages had not seen corpses before or were frightened of the “quietest places”. The cemeteries in those days were crowded, people lived here, walked, traded, including their own bodies, and even baked bread.
No one was embarrassed by the piles of bones from the dug graves, the heavy smell and corpses awaiting burial. But it was during the plague pandemics that humanity saw in a new way the terrible picture of death dancing and laughing - and since then it has not recovered from the shock. This is no laughing matter - you are pitiful and powerless before the all-crushing step of Death, and where it will lead the sinners is its business. And here it doesn't matter whether you are full or a rogue, a fool or a king.