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LUNDS UNIVERSITET

Humanistiska och teologiska fakulteterna

In the likeness of madness

Laughter as the role play of the holy fool in N 408

Magnus Halle

LUNDS UNIVERSITET | CENTRUM FÖR TEOLOGI OCH RELIGIONSVETENSKAP

Kurskod: KRMK 02

Handledare: S. Borgehammar

Examinator: S. Rubenson

Termin: VT 2015
ABSTRACT

Becoming a “Fool for Christ’s sake” (1 Cor 4.10) developed as an extreme form of asceticism in
Byzantium from the fifth century onwards. In one saying (N 408) of the monastic collections of the
Apophthegmata Patrum, a monk who plays the fool laughs incessantly. The role play of the “holy
fools” has been described as their most important characteristic element, yet how roles are created in
hagiographical literature has been largely ignored by scholarship. This paper explores the interplay
between Late Antique / Byzantine views on laughter and the brief narrative of N 408, intending to
show how tradition and narrative combine to shape the paradox on which stories of holy foolery
depend.

Keywords: Laughter – Religious aspects. Holy foolery – Byzantium. Holy fools – Byzantium.
Apophthegmata Patrum.

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CONTENTS

1 Introducing the holy fools 4

1.1 In the likeness of madness 4


1.2 The role of the holy fool 6
1.3 “A rainbow of meanings” 6
1.4 Research questions. Purpose of research 8
1.5 Previous scholarship 8
1.6 Outline of paper 8

2 N 408: a presentation 9

2.1 The text: its transmission, date and genre 9


2.2 Synopsis 12
2.3 Other texts on holy foolery in the AP 13
2.4 N 408 in previous scholarship 13

3 Narrative analysis: confronting the fool’s laughter 14

3.1 Introduction 14
3.2 The setting of N 408 15
3.3 The act of laughing 15
3.4 The characters and their response to laughter 16

4 The laughter of N 408 in context 17

4.1 Introduction 17
4.2 Late Antique Christian context 18
4.2.1 Laughter in the Great Asketikon
of St Basil the Great 18
4.2.2 The laughter of the fool in Wisdom literature 21
4.2.3 Encountering laughter in the AP 22
4.3 Did Byzantines laugh? Laughter in a Christianized Empire 25
4.4 The Cynic tradition 27
4.4.1 Laughter as asceticism 27
4.4.2 Cynic laughter 27
4.4.3 The Cynic tradition and holy foolery 28

5 Traditions and the role of the fool in N 408 30

5.1 Introduction 30
5.2 Laughter befits the fool: N 408 and the Christian ascetic tradition 30
5.3 The Cynic tradition and N 408 33
5.4 Paradox lost: Sainthood “because of” laughter? 35

6 Conclusion: Paradox embodied 37

Sources and literature 40


Appendix: APanon N 408 (Wortley, ed. 2013, 259-260) 45

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Chapter 1: Introducing the holy fools.
1.1 In the likeness of madness.

In a seventeenth-century Russian vita, the blessed Prokopii of Viatka enters the house of a family,
picks up a sleeping child and hurls it onto the floor, killing it instantly. The father “did the blessed
Prokopii no harm, for he saw that he was a holy man”.1 The murderer was a holy fool, a iurodiviyi – a
secret saint. In the person of the holy fool, true sanctity and apparent insanity meet. To the Byzantine
and Russian populace, a holy fool was a saint, but “’in spite of’, rather than a saint ‘because of’” his or
her actions – an expression which deftly encapsulates the paradoxical nature of their sainthood.2 The
holy fool is the image of holiness in the likeness of madness.

From the perspective of Byzantine cultural history, the theoretical foundations of “Foolishness for
Christ’s sake” may be described as an extreme form of ascetic practice, whose literary vestiges are
found dispersed throughout Byzantine hagiographical literature from the fifth century onwards. The
ostensibly mad protagonist of these narratives is a monastic, male or female. The narratives conform
to a literary typology common to many contemporary stories of “secret saints”, the broader theme to
which these narratives belong: concealment and disclosure of holiness are important recurring
elements.3 The Biblical foundation for holy foolery is found in Paul’s exhortation to become a “fool
for Christ’s sake” (μωρὸς διὰ Χριστόν; 1 Cor 4.10) and this Pauline terminology is often reiterated in
the narratives.4 Sometimes the Post-Classical Greek σαλóς (“salos”) is used to designate the stories’
fools, a word still in use in Orthodox tradition.

One element characterizes all holy fool narratives: In order to conceal true virtue, the holy fool wears
“the mask of madness”, seen by major scholars as the characteristic element “through which his
eccentric behaviour and spirituality might be explained and understood”.5 The audience are faced with
the task of unmasking the fool – is s/he a truly mad person or a saint? Or perhaps both? Or, possibly,
someone who appears as mad to become a “fake” saint – a pseudo-holy fool? The profound
ambivalence of the phenomenon of holy foolery rests on the perceived distinction between appearance
and reality, the imaginary and the real. Masked as mad – or simply mad? By being seen as an outcast,
the fool suffers the utmost humiliation and thus reenacts Christ’s suffering for the salvation of
humanity.6 The holy fool is no fool, rather s/he is a holy man or woman hiding behind the mask. As a

1
As recounted in Ivanov 2006, 402-403.
2
Ivanov 2006, 48.
3
Literary typology, cf. Krueger 1996a, 70-71.
4
Cf 1 Cor. 1.20, 22-23, 27, 3.18-19. Paul, naturally, was blissfully unaware that his remarks would one day fuel
holy foolery (Ivanov 2006, 19).
5
Cf the recent assessment by Stavroula Konstantinou, referring to previous scholarship (2014, 348, note
21). ”Maske der Verrücktheit” is an expression coined by Hauptmann (1959, 29).
6
Cf Konstantinou 2014, 348.

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form of drama, holy foolery requires an audience perceptive to holiness and willing to engage in the
unmasking of the holy man or woman.

In time, Byzantine and Russian hagiographers developed a rich repertoire of offensive and ludicrous
behavior as foolish attributes. The mid-seventh-century Life of Symeon, composed by the Cypriot
bishop Leontius of Neapolis is the first “holy foolish” Life, describing the holy monk who flees the
desert and enters the Syriac city of Emesa, dragging a dead dog. Outrageous and humoristic situations
fill the pages of this Life, as the fool Symeon allows himself to be mocked by the crowd, concealing
his true virtue from the eyes of the public. Symeon walks about naked, defecates in the street and eats
meat during fasts. His sacrilegious and indecent behavior affronts the unsuspecting citizens, who are
not aware of his reformation of sinners and conversion of heretics. This highly influential Life became
the model for “all subsequent hagiography of holy foolery” and can be said to “represent the pinnacle
of the literary development of holy foolery”, according to Russian cultural historian Sergey Ivanov,
the author of the standard work on holy foolery’s history.7 As the paradigmatic Byzantine fool, many
scholarly studies on holy foolery confine themselves solely to Life of Symeon and shed few remarks
on lesser-known Byzantine stories.

The ideas and techniques of holy foolery are not confined to the distant past, however.

The vast Russian tradition of holy foolery extends to the present day. In Andrey Tarkovsky’s film
“Nostalghia” (1983), Erland Josephson portrays Domenico, a social outcast who commits suicide in
public by incinerating himself. His character displays traits similar to a traditional holy fool and we are
led to believe that the film’s protagonist, the poet Gorchakov , regards him as one. Gorkachov perishes
as he performs a mysterious act bestowed upon him by Domenico as his final wish: to transverse a
pool with a lighted candle. Tarkovsky’s portrait is in my view the most nuanced fictional rendering of
holy foolery as role play in modern art.

More recently, the Swedish artist Anna Odell (1973- ) engaged in role play as part of her art project
“Okänd, kvinna 2009-349701”, created with the intent of exposing the shortcomings of Swedish
mental care. She performed a feigned suicide attempt on Liljeholmsbron in Stockholm (a well-known
suicide spot), and then reverted to sanity after being admitted to psychiatric ward – appearing as “clear
and lucid, quite clever!” according to her medical journal. The context of the mental institution
demanded the role of patient. By revealing herself as sane when insanity was expected, her art project
showed to dramatic effect the importance of context and audience expectations in shaping roles, both
while on the bridge and in the mental ward. Odell’s use of dramatic techniques – in my view very
reminiscent of holy foolery – caused a moral uproar. In the ensuing debate, discussions turned on the
ostensible immorality of her deception and art’s moral obligations, issues which initially

7
Ivanov 2006, 105, 130. Greek text of Life of Symeon: Festugière, A.J. & Rydén, L., eds. 1974; English
translation: Krueger 1996a.

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overshadowed the incisive critique of mental care her artwork was meant to convey. As Symeon’s
acts, Odell’s art project excited public attention and incited controversy. 8

1.2 The role of the holy fool.

In one of the Byzantine stories, preserved in the vast collections of anecdotes, sayings and short stories
of Sayings of the Desert fathers (Apophthegmata Patrum, AP), an eirenic monk who “feigns
madness” (ὑποκρίνεσθαι / προσποιεῖσθαι μωρίαν) continually laughs without provocation when
confronted with his fellow brothers and his superior, Abba Silvanus – admittedly a slightly less
dramatic act than the infanticide of Prokopii or the indecency of Symeon. In a previous paper I studied
how sanctity was revealed in this narrative.9

As I came to reflect more closely on why and how certain acts in these stories are meant to signal
erratic behavior, and how these traits combine to create the appearance of madness, I asked myself
how the act of laughing in this text relates to Christian views on laughter and the Late Antique cultural
context in which it was written and read. In this paper, I intend to study how the role of the fool is
created in the same story.

1.3 “A rainbow of meanings”.

Laughter, as an expression which may reveal the life of the mind, attracted the attention of pagan and
Christian writers alike throughout Antiquity, and within Late Antique Christianity, the ascetic
movement in particular. In the story of the laughing monk – which found its principal contemporary
readership within the monastic movement whence holy foolery originated – excessive laughter is
coupled with the truly virtuous ascetic, as some form of mask or concealment.10 In his study of the
socio-cultural status of laughter within the Greek Patristic tradition, Teodor Baconsky remarks that
this text “nous présente pour la première fois le rire en tant que procédé censé fonder la pratique de la
folie en Christ”.11

8
“Okänd, kvinna 2009-349701” was submitted as a BA project at the Swedish University College of Arts, Crafts
and Design. A presentation of Odell’s project can be found on their website (with excerpts from the medical
journal): URN: http://www.konstfack2009.se/bachelor/bafa/anna-odell/.
9
A revised version published as Halle 2014. My conclusion that N 408 reflected a “highly developed
understanding of … the concept of holy foolery” (123) was based on the tacit supposition that laughter was an
act of madness, which, in conjunction with the word “salos” and the two explicit references to feigned madness
found in the text, indicates that N 408 is indeed a text on holy foolery. Cf chapter 2 for a presentation of the
story (N 408) with synopsis; Greek text with English translation in the Appendix.
10
Who read these stories? Very little can be stated with any certainty. According to Rubenson, “there are few
sources and almost no work done on the reading practices of early eastern monasticism” (2013, 7). Claudia
Rapp states that the AP “were popular reading material among the monks in Palestine in the early sixth
[century] … they were available to la larger reading public, even outside of monastic circles” (2010, 124).
11
Baconsky 1996, 302 (“ .. presents us for the first time with laughter as a manner supposedly at the base of
the practice of holy foolery”).

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In her book “Laughing gods, weeping virgins”, historian of religion Ingvild Gilhus presents laughter
as a highly ambiguous and powerful sign invested with a wide variety of religio-cultural meanings,
from expressions of joy and ecstasy to shame, mockery and ridicule. As a universal human expression
and a cultural phenomenon at the same time, laughter defies simple definition and escapes our
attempts to reduce it to a few non-contextual, generalist interpretations. Laughter may for instance be
caused by humor, but they are two distinct phenomena, albeit laughter is commonly used as a
metonym of humor. Gilhus observes that “like religion, laughter is situated at the intersection of the
body and mind, individual and society, the rational and the irrational”. Her thoughts on laughter as a
sign situated in the symbolic context of the human body, a body “moulded by culture” and “used as a
religious symbol”, have been especially conducive to my own reflections on laughter and its relation
to madness and holiness, as the readers fostered in the culture of Late Antique asceticism evidently
perceived laughter as what Jan Bremmer calls a credible “symbol of marginality”, even madness, in
this and other texts – and yet could relate to it as the behavior of a holy man.12 The ambiguity of this
connection between holiness and laughter incited my interest in understanding how the role of the fool
is shaped by implicit traditions and cultural contexts shared by Late Antique / Byzantine readers and
hagiographers alike.

In his study of the cultural history of ancient Greek and early Christian laughter, professor of Greek
Stephen Halliwell points to the inherent ambiguities of laughter as a form of para-linguistic
communication deeply embedded in social and cultural mentalities, and consequently susceptible to a
wide range of interpretations and shifting socio-cultural attitudes. The psychology of laughter cannot
be isolated from the complexities of cultural discourse. Laughter “was a recurrent object of evaluative
reflection in Greek culture”, invested with “a rainbow of meanings”, in Halliwell’s view. His
comments on the interdependence between the Janus-faced phenomenon of laughter and the
fluctuating cultural traditions and discourses of Antiquity have inspired my own reflections and in part
suggested the methodological approach of my paper, as I combine a close reading of the text with a
study of the broader cultural traditions that form the Late Antique backdrop against which the story is
set.13

12
Gilhus 1997, 1-5. “The location and meaning of laughter in a particular religion are closely connected with the
religion’s use of the human body” (3). Gilhus’ study is not confined to Christianity (or asceticism) and treats AP
texts very briefly. She is evidently unaware of the present text. For laughter as an enduring “symbol of
marginality”in Antiquity, cf Bremmer 1992, 207-208. Halliwell notes how laughter “could count as a sign of
nothing less than derangement” in Greek culture and a “symptom of madness” (2008, 17-18).
13
Cf Halliwell 2008, especially 1-50. “A rainbow of meanings” is an adaptation of “a remark of Wittgenstein’s
on Freud’s theory of jokes” (11).

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1.4 Research questions. Purpose of research.

The basic premise of this paper, then, is that the role and the traits intended to describe madness in this
and other narratives are determined by the cultural contexts in which they were created, disseminated
and read. The narratives thus reveal a great deal of how different societies value certain acts.
Narratives are reflective of the contexts of traditions. An “act of madness” from a holy fool narrative
may exemplify this: When the Byzantine fool Symeon defecates publicly in the streets, this is seen as
an act of effrontery and outrages his audience in the text as well as his Byzantine (and modern-day!)
readers. Had the blessed Prokopii done the same, Ivanov remarks that readers of the time would hardly
have raised an eyebrow, as “[i]n Moscow, … right up to the early eighteenth century, people
discharged their bodily wastes all over the place”. 14 What constitutes social transgressions is
determined by cultural context and traditions that shape the readers’ understanding and expectations
even when not explicitly stated in the text. As a consequence, the literary representations of Byzantine
and Russian roles or modes of behavior differ markedly. Roles conform to and presuppose traditions –
if they are to appear as meaningful to an audience. If what passes as madness is embedded in cultural
traditions, these must be investigated as well as the narrative itself. In this paper I purpose to answer
the questions: How is the role of the fool created in this narrative? More specifically: Why does the
monk laugh in this text?

In attempting to answer the questions raised by the construction of the role or mask – by many
scholars perceived as the main characteristic of the holy fool – I hope to contribute to a fuller
understanding of the literary creation of the Byzantine fools’ character.

1.5 Previous scholarship.

“Holy foolishness is treated as a role in almost all later studies on the subject”, according to
Konstantinou.15 Yet except for Derek Krueger’s study of the Life of Symeon, in which he closely
examines the acts performed by the foolish saint and argues for Cynic influence, hardly any major
studies reflect on which traditions and contexts shape the roles of these saints.16

1.6 Outline of paper.

A presentation of the text of N 408 (ch. 2) is followed by a narrative analysis of the relevant passages
of N 408 (ch. 3). Ideological and cultural perspectives on traditions relevant to Late Antique laughter
are thereafter introduced to place N 408 in its wider Late Antique context (ch. 4). In the concluding
discussion (ch. 5-6), the various perspectives afforded by the traditions are compared and contrasted

14
For this and other examples, cf. Ivanov 2006, 400-401.
15
2014 note 19, referring to historically oriented scholarship.
16
Most historically/theologically oriented studies remain as I see it purely descriptive. Syrkin’s 1982 study,
however, approaches the Life of Symeon partly from the perspective of cultural psychology.

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with N 408 in an effort to answer the questions raised, and to delineate the possible interpretive
trajectories within which the laughter in N 408 may be situated.

Chapter 2: N 408: a presentation.

2.1 The text: its transmission, date and genre.

The Greek text has been edited thrice in the last century. It appears in a number of Byzantine
manuscripts. It was originally published by the French scholar Francois Nau (1864-1931), who
transcribed and partly translated 392 (of 670) sayings found in the eleventh-century ms Parisinus
Coislianus 126. These sayings form the kernel of the APanon. Nau’s transcriptions (N 1-392, “N” =
Nau) were published intermittently as “Histories des solitaires égyptiens” in Revue de L´Orient
Chrétien between 1907 and 1913.17 The story in N 408, however, appeared in Patrologia Orientalis
(vol. 8, 1912, 178-179 = BHG 1450e), based on Nau’s partial transcription of the twelfth-century ms
Parisinus Coislianus 127.18

The French Jesuit scholar J.-C. Guy (1927-1986) edited what is considered the standard critical edition
of APsys ((published posthumously in three volumes 1993-2005), based on an extensive collation of
Greek mss.19 His edition of the APsys is based on eleven manuscripts (neither mss Coislianus 126 nor
127 among these), eight of which contain N 408. The oldest of these, the uncial ms Athos Protaton 86,
is dated to the ninth century.20

John Wortley, professor of history at the University of Manitoba, recently published a select edition of
the APanon. His text is founded on three manuscripts, all of which include N 408 and of roughly the
same date (tenth-eleventh century).21 As the three editors diverge in their choice of manuscripts, it
comes as no surprise that the Greek text of N 408 differs somewhat between the three printed editions.
However, the very slight variants recorded in the critical apparatus of Guy’s and Wortley’s editions do
not influence the general sense of the text.22 Translations into English appear in Wortley, 2011 and
2013 editions, French translations in Guy’s and Nau’s editions. Many AP texts have been transmitted

17
Cf Nau’s introduction (1907, 43-47). Nau assigned numbers only to the first 392 sayings, the additional texts
(as N 408) numbered by Guy (1984, 63 sqq). For the date of the two Coislin ms 126 and 127, cf Devreesse 1945,
121.
18
Nau’s principal interest was the mention of Abba Silvanus in this text. For the contents of ms. Coislianus 127,
cf. Guy 1984, 264-272.
19
Guy, ed. 1993 – 2005. While praiseful of Guy’s erudite scholarship, Rubenson remarks on the methodological
fallacies of his edition that “[t]his has led to the creation of a collection that has never existed” (2013, 15). John
Wortley has recently published an English translation of the APsys based on Guy’s edition (Wortley, ed. 2011).
20
Mss listed in Guy 1993, 84-87.
21
Wortley describes his edition as “an edition, not the definitive critical edition” (Wortley, ed. 2013, 4). Cf his
introduction for a list of the manuscripts consulted (one of which is Coislianus 126).
22
All Greek quotes in the following are from Wortley’s 2013 edition, as are other quotes of AP texts unless
otherwise noted.

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in the vernacular languages of the Byzantine Empire and adjacent regions.23 The story in N 408 is
known to exist in Armenian, while Bousset’s claim of a Syriac version is erroneous.24 The earliest
witness to the thematic/systematic division of AP material is the sixth-century Latin translation of
Pelagius and John (PJ). This version does not include N 408.25 PJ forms part of the extensive
Vitaspatrum corpus, “whose texts were widely disseminated throughout Europe during the Middle
Ages”.26 N 408 is also absent from the highly influential eleventh-century ascetic florilegium known
as the Evergetinon, which “enjoyed a wide circulation in the Byzantine world”. 27 This monastic
anthology first saw print in 1783 (Venice) and has been reprinted many times since. N 408, then,
enjoyed a very limited reception in the Greek East as well as the Latin West, compared to many other
stories originating in the monastic collections of the AP.

Manuscript evidence fixes the ninth century as a firm terminus ante quem for N 408. The redaction of
the AP collections took place in the late fifth century CE at the earliest.28 The absence of N 408 in the
sixth-century Latin PJ affords only negative evidence and does not in itself preclude an early date.
Could the name Silvanus possibly provide a clue? The prosopographical evidence collected by J.-C.
Guy places this abba as active in Egypt and Palestine in the second (of four) generation of desert
monastics, at approximately 400 CE.29 Recent scholarship, however, suggests that names in the
sayings may be more or less arbitrarily inserted.30 Attributions of sayings appear in many instances as
quite random.31 Furthermore, any attempt to date a specific saying based on internal references such as
a name or a place disregards the fundamental literary character of the AP material and presupposes a
methodological approach to AP texts now considered obsolete. As for linguistic evidence, the post-
Classical word “salos” (cf. 2.3) is the only relatively rare word in N 408. It appears as early as the

23
Harmless provides an overview of editions of versions in the vernacular (2004, 183-185).
24
Cf Bousset 1923, 111 (s.v. Cod. Berol. Phill. 1624, 168 c (=N 408, Guy 1984, 65)) – my statement regarding
Bousset’s error is based on personal communication with prof. S. Rubenson in June 2015. According to him,
several Arabic mss contain stories similar to N 408. Bedjan’s 1897 Syriac edition which Bousset refers to is
anyway based on exceptionally late mss, cf the critical remarks by Holmberg (2013, 35-36). N 408 does not
appear in the sixth century Syriac ms (Sin. syr. 46) recently studied by Bo Holmberg (2013). Many Syriac mss
remain unedited.
25
Guy 1984, 83-84, 258.
26
Studer 2012, 2.
27
Based on table VIII (”Paulos Euergetinos”) in Bousset, 1923, 172 sqq. Quote from Jordan 2000, 454.
28
Harmless 2004, 171.
29
Cf Guy’s “Prosopographie des moines scétiotes” (1993, 46 sqq: Silvanus: 61-62).
30
“[T]here are good reasons to suspect that names are introduced or deleted on the basis of the status of the
father [abba] concerned at the time of creation of a collection … or even when it was copied” (Rubenson 2013,
16, with further reference to Faraggiana 1997).
31
Cf. examples provided in Guy 1984, 195-197.

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fifth century and is continuously attested in Byzantine texts (and the AP) throughout the period.32
Caution suggests a dating no more specific than sometime between the fifth and the ninth century.33

Any reader of the AP is struck by its mixture of brief sayings, proverbs and extensive narratives. N
408 may be classified as a form of narrative (“diegesis”) quite common within the hagiographical
literature throughout most of the Byzantine period: the edifying tale (plur. διηγήσεις ψυχωφελεῖς),
literally a tale “beneficial to the soul”. Noting how “their variety seems endless”, Binggeli describes
them as an “ill-defined field of monastic literature”, whose core is a spiritual lesson aimed at “moral
improvement”.34 These tales may appear as independent short stories, in larger collections (such as N
408 in the AP) or even as episodes incorporated in larger vita.35 They were “especially popular from
the late fourth to the sixth century”.36

Throughout the 20th century scholarship regarded the AP texts as credible historical sources to the
world of Late Antique desert monasticism.37 The AP collections were thought to originate in oral
traditions passed on through generations of monks until it was committed to writing from the sixth
century onwards. As source texts, they could provide a reconstruction of the conditions and events of
early monastic life, a world peopled by illiterate and yet spiritually inclined monks. As recent AP
scholarship has shifted its attention towards the literary character of the sayings tradition and regards
them as literary artefacts created within the bounds of the highly literate Christian culture and the
surrounding landscape of Late Antique Greek-Roman paideia in general. In a seminal article, Rapp
proposed that Classical “chreiai” were the literary antecedents of the AP texts, which share a
“distinctive instructional purpose” with their Greek-Roman forebears.38 The AP texts, in Rapp’s view,
aim to “replicate the original encounter between abba and disciple and to make disciples out of their
audience”, and “to make saints out of those who encounter [the hagiographer’s] work”.39 A monastic
educational setting has been proposed for the AP literature (as “chreiai”). The purpose of
hagiographical texts such as the AP is from this perspective primarily didactic, and recent scholarship
emphasizes how the sayings tradition is “deeply rooted in the educational traditions of the schools of

32
PGL: Palladius (early fifth c.); Evagrius Scholasticus (sixth c.), Leontius of Neapolis (seventh c.); several AP
texts. PGL’s listing is not exhaustive.
33
This partly contradicts the pre-seventh c. date assigned in Halle 2014, based on Thomas 2010.
34
Binggeli 2014, 143-144.
35
Hinterberger 2014, 34.
36
Ivanov 2006, 43.
37
The following section is primarily based on Rubenson 2013.
38
Rapp 2010, 127 (with further references to fellow scholars McVey and Larsen). A “chreia” is a brief saying or
short narration intended “to provide useful instruction for its audience”. “Chreiai” were part of the Late
Antique / early Byzantine school curriculum (ibid. 126).
39
Rapp 2010, 130.

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late antiquity”. 40 This paradigmatic shift in scholarly perspective on the purpose and use of the
sayings naturally influences how the story in N 408 may be read.

2.2 Synopsis.41

“The story is set near the village in Palestine where Abba Silvanus lived. One of the brothers of the
anchorite community, whose character remains nameless throughout the story, “was pretending to be
insane” (προσποιούμενος μωρίαν).42 His aberrant behavior is briefly described: He continually laughs
whenever meeting fellow brothers. Three fathers (“πατέρες”) call on Silvanus and express their wish
to visit all of the brothers in their cells. Silvanus heeds their request, but instructs their guide – one of
the brother anchorites – not to lead them to the cell of “the brother who is a fool” (πρὸς τὸν
σαλὸν ἀδελφόν), so as to avoid his visitors being scandalized. The three fathers repeat their request to
visit all brothers to the brother assigned to guide them. He, however, follows Silvanus’ orders. After
their tour of the cells, the three visitors take their leave of Silvanus. As they set off, the three fathers
tell Silvanus that they are saddened by the fact that they have not met all the brothers of the
community. The fathers express their sorrow and depart without having met the mad brother. Upon
their leaving, the narrator recounts how Abba Silvanus reflects upon what has passed and sets out to
visit “the brother who was pretending to be insane” in his cell. Opening the door silently, Abba
Silvanus “took the brother by surprise” and finds him sitting with two baskets in front of him, one to
his left, the other to his right. [The monk laughs.] Silvanus asks him to explain his action. The monk,
however, resumes his aberrant behavior and [once again] laughs in his face. Silvanus admonishes him,
telling him how he has interrupted his weekly routine to see him in the middle of the week. “My God
has sent me to you,” Silvanus says. This statement evidently affects the monk, who, now fearful,
experiences a change of mind (“metanoia”). The two characters now engage in conversation, and as
the dialogue unfolds in the cell, no hint of the brother’s previous aberrant behavior is evident.
Obediently [the monk] asks for forgiveness and proceeds to explain his actions to Silvanus:

“’Forgive me, Father, in the morning I sit with these pebbles before me, and if a good logismos [i.e.
“thought”] comes into my mind, I throw a pebble into the right-hand basket. If an evil one presents
itself, I throw [a pebble] into the left-hand basket.’” Counting the pebbles at the end of the day, he
would only eat if the good thoughts outnumbered the bad. The following day, if struck by a bad
thought, he would remind himself of its consequences. Upon hearing this, Silvanus is amazed. The
ostensibly insane brother is revealed as a person of great virtue. In his final soliloquy, Abba Silvanus

40
Rubenson 2013, 18 (referring to Lillian Larsen’s work)..
41
The following synopsis is an excerpt from Halle 2014 with slight revisions in square brackets.
42
An anchorite community consist of “anchorites living in cells, usually a master and one or two disciples often
clustered in larger groups ... [t]he emphasis on the complete isolation and remoteness of the single cell … is in
many cases probably a literary ideal, rather than a physical reality” (Rubenson 2007, 646).

12
reflects that the visiting fathers were indeed ‘holy angels wishing to make the brother’s virtue
known’“.

2.3 Other texts on holy foolery in the AP.

Most studies on Byzantine holy foolery make only passing mention of the few AP texts which possibly
touch on the subject of holy foolery. Comments are usually limited to texts referring to “salos”, a
Greek post-Classical term closely associated with the holy person who pretended to be a fool. 43 In
addition to the previously known AP texts I would like to add APanon N 71, where an abba is asked
how one becomes a “fool for Christ’s sake” (μωρὸς διὰ Χριστόν).44 None of these are nearly as
extensive and complex as N 408. Britt Dahlman provides the most detailed account of the AP texts
possibly related to holy foolery, except for N 71 and N 408.45

As the word “salos” appears thrice in N 408, some further comments are warranted: The origins and
etymology of this word remain disputed. Its original meaning was simply “foolish, stupid or imbecile”
in a pejorative sense.46 Textual evidence suggests that it developed into a technical term to designate
holy fools as such sometime between the fifth to seventh centuries. In his extensive discussion of the
term, Krueger cautions against the temptation to equate “salos” all too readily with holy fool(s) when
found in Late Antique texts.47 In a similar vein, Dahlman suggests in her commentary on the sixth-
century story of Abba Mark the Fool (a “salos”), that only when used as an epithet or in a title should
“salos” be seen as an unequivocal reference to holy foolery.48 Her suggestion provides in my opinion a
sound point of departure whenever one encounters the word in Byzantine hagiographical texts, as in N
408.

2.4 N 408 in previous scholarship

As N 408 was not part of the sixth-century Latin version of the Systematic Collection (PJ) and
consequently not printed in the 1615 Rosweyde edition of the Latin Vitaspatrum, its existence
apparently eluded scholarship until Nau’s 1912 edition.49 Sadly, the prominent German scholar

43
In addition to N 408, four AP texts refer to “salos”: APalph Moses 8; Ammonas 9; Eulogius the Priest 1; John,
Disciple of Abba Paul 1. Dahlman 2008 refers to APalph Or 14 and the brief saying APanon N 120. Dahlman
makes a convincing case that at least Ammonas 9 is a text on holy foolery. Grosdider de Matons considers that
none of the four “salos”-texts refer to holy foolery in the theoretical sense, as they do not include any pretense
(1970, 281). Brief comments appear in Krueger (1996a, 63-64) and Ivanov (2006, chs. 1 and 2).
44
I located this saying through the extensive subject index to parts of the APanon provided by Bousset 1923
(“Narr um d. Herrn willen”). It appears to be unknown to holy foolery scholarship.
45
Dahlman 2008.
46
PGL: “imbecile, half-witted” (s.v. σαλός); “foolishness, imbecility” (s.v. σαλοτής).
47
Krueger states that ”[e]xtreme caution is also warranted with regard to the term salos” and “the term …
should not be understood as the equivalent of ‘holy fool’ in Late Antiquity” (1996a, 63, 65).
48
Dahlman 2007, 196.
49
PJ = Books V and VI of Rosweyde’s edition (=PL 73. 855-1022).

13
Wilhem Bousset’s (1865-1920) knowledge of Nau’s editorial efforts extended only to N 1-400.50 In
Bousset's magisterial oeuvre, references to the story found in N 408 must therefore be sought under
Cod. Berol. Phill. 1624 (168 c: “Der entdeckte Heilige: d. Greis m. d. zwei Körben”), a fourteenth-
century Greek ms.51 In his study of the seventh-century Life of Symeon, Derek Krueger observes
(referring to Nau's 1912 edition) that the story "merits further study", a remark that prompted my own
interest.52 More recently, in a hitherto unpublished doctoral dissertation, Andrew Thomas points to the
significance of this text as one of a very small handful of stories on holy foolery which (possibly!)
predate the seventh-century Life of Symeon.53 Basing his study on Guy’s edition of the APsys, Thomas
is the first scholar on holy foolery to bring attention to the story’s literary origin within the AP corpus,
as APsys VIII 32. Apart from Baconsky, the scholarly literature I have consulted on laughter does not
comment on N 408 at all.54 None of these contributions discuss the role play in N 408 in any detail.

Chapter 3: Narrative analysis: confronting the fool’s laughter.

3.1 Introduction.
How is laughter described and interpreted within the text, by its characters and the narrator? 55
Narrative criticism is a necessary prelude to answer how laughter serves to create a fool’s role within
the text, as it aims “to read the text as the implied reader” – and conversely to grasp how (implied)
authorial assumptions are shaped by readers’ perceptions and knowledge - and with reference to
symbolic acts “to uncover the meaning intended by the implied author, a meaning that is not esoteric
but that the implied reader is intended to grasp”.56 Such literary devices as symbols, signs, images and
motifs communicate meaning derived from extra-narrative contexts (traditions, discourses) which may
be universal, or confined to the implied author’s social or cultural context, or the community’s shared
stock of cultural images and symbols. What follows is a brief narrative analysis of the story’s
elements, which combine to form a coherent narrative; its setting(s), its characters and its events or
acts.

50
Cf. Bousset’s remarks on ms Parisinus Coislianus 126 (1923, 10). His efforts were cut short by the war.
Bousset’s work “remains the most detailed and influential study of the AP” according to Rubenson (2013, 9).
51
Bousset 1923, 111, cf Guy 1984, 65 (N 408 = Berlin 1624, 168 c). Date provided by Studemund & Cohn 1890,
98.
52
Krueger 1996a, 58; Halle 2014. Krueger was apparently unaware that the story was based on Nau’s
transcription of ms Coislianus 127 and mistakenly ascribes the story to the fifth-century Syriac bishop John
Rufus (John of Maiouma), whose work Plerophoriai occupies most of the 1912 volume of Patrologia Orientalis.
N 408 is briefly discussed by Ivanov (2006, 35-36); Grosdider de Matons (1970, 285-286); Bousset (1921, 1-2);
Baconsky 1996, 300-302; De Certeau 1995, 42 (note 24).
53
Thomas [2010], [10].
54
Baconsky 1996, 300-302.
55
The following is based on Powell 1990, esp. chapters 1-4.
56
Powell 1990, 20, 29.

14
3.2 The setting of N 408.

The narrative is set in Palestine, in an unspecified location “along the river near the village … where
the blessed Silvanus was living”. A hierarchy within this community is evident through the character
of the superior abba, the only named character in the text. The brothers living in the village meet each
other regularly, three visitors come to visit “the brothers in their cells” and the abba only regularly
leaves his cell on Saturdays and Sundays. All this suggests an anchorite community of brethren as the
social context, set in the desert landscape of Palestine, a familiar setting for narratives of the AP. The
initial spatial setting of the community is succeeded by the single monastic cell, where the
confrontational encounter between the monk and the abba is set.

3.3 The act of laughing.

The monk’s laughter occurs thrice in this text. In the first instance, the act of laughing is introduced
immediately after the narrator’s statement that the monk “pretended to be mad”, associating laughter
with deceptive behavior and pretended folly. The narrator thus establishes a causal relationship
between the act and the pretended folly, directing the readers’ attention to the contingency. Laughter is
narrated as an iterative event: He laughs “[w]henever a brother met him”, implying to the reader that
the event happened repeatedly, as his customary interaction with other characters. This is further
emphasized by the mention that “he began to laugh as usual”. The laughter is directed towards all the
brothers he encounters and is seemingly not occasioned by any particular reason. It is noteworthy that
the narrator explicitly describes these brothers in the singular (“so each one (ἕκαστος) would leave
him …”) in an iterative narration, where a single plural might have sufficed.

Second, the act of laughing occurs twice after the change of setting, when in the confinement of his
cell he is confronted with Abba Silvanus. His laughing is described as two singular events, narrated
separately, as he laughs when being visited in his cell by the abba. The two bursts of laughter are now
directed at a character who earnestly wishes to communicate with him. Also, he now confronts a
character who is his superior, and not as previously his equals, yet his habitual laughter is the same, as
he “began to laugh as usual”. The narration of laughter in this encounter thus adds considerable depth
to the readers’ understanding of the nature of the character. His root character trait, regardless of
setting, is his propensity to laugh.

This repetitive narration of the same type of event “requires the reader to consider the significance of
an event more than once”.57 It is in my view quite intentional on the part of the author that all
encounters narrated take place one-on-one. This intimates that on no occasion, even privately, does the
monk disclose his true identity to anyone. His appearance to the outside world is consistently
aberrant. The audience within the text is given no clue as to his true identity. Laughter transcends the

57
Powell 1990, 40.

15
two settings; the public and private space, the world of the anchorite community (the village) and the
world of the monk’s solitude (the cell) – he never abandons his habitual laughter. Conversely, the
isolation is not diminished by social interaction, as the laughter precludes normal intercourse with his
peers. More than anything, the references to laughter suggests remoteness and isolation on the part of
the brother, even as other characters wish to engage in conversation. As the story unravels, it becomes
apparent that this isolation is self-induced – a mere role. It is what I would call the laughter of non-
presence, to slightly reword Michel De Certeau’s description of the laughter of some stories of fools as
a “non-place”.58

3.4 The characters and their response to laughter.

How do the characters respond to laughter? The narrator’s initial disclosure that the madness is only
pretended is directed at the implied reader, while the story’s characters remain ignorant of this. The
disclosure of his true identity is precipitated by the visit of three fathers, whose omniscience is attested
by their repeated insistence that they have not seen all the monks, as they expressly wished. They are
never confronted directly with the laughing monk. Neither they nor their guide (a member of the
community) comment on him or his habit of laughing. The main narrative function of the three
visiting fathers – whose omniscience indicates angelic qualities to the reader – is to direct the abba’s
attention towards the one monk they have not seen.

Abba Silvanus is the only character who is directly confronted with laughter in the story. Initially he
wishes to avoid his three visitors being offended and therefore attempts to deceive his guests. This
indicates that laughter is socially unacceptable and a potential cause of embarrassment – laughter
could be construed as potentially scandalous and shame the community. When the abba instructs the
guide not to take them to the fool (“salos”), the use of “salos” within his discourse cannot mean that
the character of Silvanus is aware of the pretense that the laughter is simply role play, otherwise the
conflict would not be resolved as it does in their ensuing encounter. Yet the implied reader may well
know that “salos” indicates a holy fool, adding an ironic nuance to the narrator’s choice of words
placed in the mouth of the superior abba. His response (“Stop that now …”) when confronting the
monk in his cell is indicative of an unequivocal rejection of laughter. The monk’s fellow brothers are
described as shying away from him whenever meeting him: “Each one would leave him and go away”.
The characters of the monastic community share a common evaluative point of view in their rejection
of laughter. The narrator shares this view as he immediately associates laughter and feigned madness.
In spite of this, there is a noticeable lack of animosity against the laughing monk in this story. Neither
the characters nor the narrator comment on laughter as such - nor does the laughing monk. As his
laughter is rejected by the others, it allows the character to effectively ward off anyone who may

58
De Certeau 1995, 41: “This laugh is a non-place. The idiot is not there … and he does not ‘answer’”,
commenting on this and other stories on madmen.

16
reveal his virtue, and thus the author allows the monk to inhabit a space where his true character
remains invisible to the characters in the social setting of the community. Laughter, then, is an act
which creates social barriers – a knowledge implicitly shared by the character of the laughing monk
and put to use to mask his virtue. The vast overarching themes of humility as the foremost virtue and
profound scepticism towards any ostentatious behavior – both common to stories of secret sainthood
(and ascetic literature in general) – are combined with an act which effectively and credibly bars any
suspicion that this character is truly holy. It is the unanimous rejection of laughter, a view shared by
every character in this story, which allows the secret saint to remain unknown.

Through Abba Silvanus final soliloquy, it becomes apparent that the discernment of true virtue and
holiness is the spiritually formative message of the story. This is achieved through the divine
intervention of the three “holy angels”, who point the way to true human virtue where none of the
other characters thought it could be found.

In N 408, then, laughter serves to single out a character as being in conflict with other characters as
they share a common setting (the monastic community). Laughter creates conflict, but is not itself the
conflict of N 408. Laughter may well be described as a “symbol of cultural range” within the text,
whose meaning somehow derives “from the social and historical context of the society of the real
author and his or her community”. As Powell notes, “[t]his type of symbol poses a special problem for
narrative critics: access to the meaning of these symbols is not gained through the narrative itself, for
the implied author simply assumes the reader will understand them”. 59 In order to answer how
laughter became what Bremmer calls “a symbol of marginality” appropriate for a fool, then, we must
in turn survey the Late Antique and Byzantine perceptions of laughter.60 These traditions – or
discourses – form the subject of chapter four.

CHAPTER 4. The laughter of N 408 in context.

4.1 Introduction.

It stands to reason that the Christian tradition, and in particular the views of its ascetically-minded
followers, are relevant to the present study (cf 4.2). The Cynic movement merits our attention as the
Late Antique Cynic literary tradition possibly inspired elements of the literary role of the seventh-
century fool Symeon of Emesa. The Cynic tradition additionally serves as a counterpoint to the
Christian tradition, as their views on laughter differ so markedly (cf 4.4). In 4.3, I have attempted to
sketch a brief outline of Byzantine attitudes towards laughter. This raises the difficult question
whether the cultural attitudes of the populace were changed by the progress of Christianity.

59
Powell 1990, 29.
60
Bremmer 1992, 207-208.

17
4.2 Late Antique Christian context

4.2.1 Laughter in the Great Asketikon of St Basil the Great.

St Basil the Great (c. 330 – 379), archbishop of Caesarea and one of the Cappadocian Fathers,
authored the earliest monastic rules preserved in Greek, collected in his Great Asketikon.61 Unlike
later Byzantine typika, the Great Asketikon is molded in the literary form of two extensive series of
answers (responses) to questions posed to Basil by his disciples: the Longer (LR) and Shorter
Responses (often referred to as Rules).62 Basil’s Great Asketikon represents the high ideals of ascetic
life, and as such his works “crystallized a set of spiritual and ethical demands that could only have
been contemplated, let alone met, by those aspiring to a strenuously exacting standard of self-
discipline”.63

Although recent scholarship refrains from labelling the entire monastic tradition of the East as
“Basilian”, the legacy of the “Basilian tradition (including the Rules) certainly did serve as an
enduring – if also inconsistent – influence” on the later typika of the Byzantine monastic tradition.64
Neither was their influence confined to the East, as Latin translations of the Rules found their way to
the West, influencing Benedict of Nursia (c. 480–560) and nascent Western monasticism. Benedict,
whose own Rule counts among the most important monastic regulations of the Western Middle Ages,
immersed himself in Basil’s Rules and considered them “particularly appropriate reading for
monks”.65 As the Basilian Rules thus exerted a wide-ranging influence on monasticism throughout the
Mediterranean basin, Basil’s views on laughter are of no small interest to the present enquiry. The
Rules were probably intended for practical use in a monastic setting (perhaps Basil’s own cenobitic
foundation in Annesi, Pontos) quite similar to the one described in N 408. Two of his responses deal
specifically with laughter, SR 31 and LR 17.

The question posed in SR 31 is whether laughter is “altogether disallowed” or not. Scriptural


references permeate the Rules, and the words of Christ preserved in Luke’s Beatitudes warrants the
unequivocal proscription of laughter. Basil’s response is accordingly “since the Lord condemns those
who laugh now [Luke 6.25], it is clear that for the faithful there is never a time [“kairos”] for
laughter”, disavowing by his subtle allusion the opinion affirmed in Qoh. 3.4 that there is indeed a

61
The title Great Asketikon refers to the final Greek revision undertaken by Basil himself (Drobner 2008, 360).
All quotes in English from Basil’s Responses taken from the edition of Silvas, ed. 2005. In addition, I have
consulted Thomas 2000; Halliwell 2008 (Basil; 512-517).
62
A monastic typikon is”a set of regulations prescribing the administrative organization and rules of behavior of
a cenobitic monastery as well as its liturgical observances” (Talbot 1991). In general, the “Longer Responses
deal with major issues of principle and practice, while the Smaller Responses treat particular cases and practical
applications more briefly” (Silvas, ed. 2005, 130).
63
Halliwell 2008, 513.
64
Thomas 2000, 22.
65
Venarde, ed. 2011 (for the Basilian (and Eastern) influence, cf especially his introduction, viii-xi).

18
right time (“kairos”) for laughter in this world.66 The rhetorical inflection of the question signals by
itself “a leaning towards agelastic habits”, in Halliwell’s opinion.67 Baconsky rightly notes the
severity of this response, especially considering the moderation and humanity that inform Basil’s other
writings.68 The brief response ends by adducing several Biblical references to the pitiful state of the
sinful world, adding further weight to the view that laughter of any kind is totally inappropriate.

In the seventeenth Response of his Longer Rule, the somewhat extended format allowed Basil to
articulate his views more fully: His initial caveat that laughter is “lightly regarded by many” echoes
sentiments later found in several AP texts, and Halliwell judiciously points out that “Basil recognizes,
… that laughter is so threaded through ordinary, everyday life that its extirpation will seem
counterintuitive to many”.69 Subduing the insidious urge to laugh, therefore, “merits no small
vigilance on the part of the ascetics”, according to Basil. While smiling is not unfitting as an
expression of the soul’s cheerfulness, “unrestrained and unchecked laughter is a sign of intemperance
… and of a frivolity of the soul …”, and for the virtuous who has command of himself “it is unseemly
to raise one’s voice in cackling laughter”. For Basil, laughter is no innocent reflex, as the intemperate
soul will inevitably manifest itself through laughter, “as a matter of habit, even unwillingly”.

Basil clinches his case by an argumentum ex silentio, noting that Christ is never found to laugh or
smile in the (canonical) Gospels.70 He concedes, however, that Scripture’s many references to laughter
may appear confounding and proceeds to disambiguate noteworthy Biblical references, intent on
proving that they “are used of exultation of soul rather than merriment”.71 Basil finds scriptural
support for his damning views inter alia in several Wisdom sayings which associate laughter with
folly.72

The result of this wholesale suppression of bodily expressions is delineated in the second half of LR
17: The ultimate goal is self-control, a virtue which manifests itself physically by “a mortifying of the
body with its natural passions and cravings”, shown by the withered flesh and the “blooming pallor”
of “an athlete of Christ’s commandments”, compared to the “firm flesh and a fresh complexion” of the
regular athlete. This self-control, which Basil’s hails as the beginning of the entire spiritual life, is thus

66
Luke 6:25, cf. 6:21. (Qoh. 3.4: “For everything there is a right time …: a time to weep and a time to laugh”).
67
Halliwell 2008, 513.
68
Baconsky 1996, 171.
69
Halliwell 2008, 514.
70
Christ is, however,described as laughing in Gnostic texts (Gilhus 1997, 69 sqq). The reference to the agelastic
Christ of the Gospels is common in Patristic writers, cf Halliwell 2008, 503.
71
Gen 21:6 (the laughter of Sarah); Luke 6:21; Job 8:21.
72
Qoh. 2.2; 7:6; Sir 21:20 (the latter also cited in the same context in the Rule of Saint Benedict, 7.59: “The fool
raises his voice in laughter”). According to Silvas, Basil frequently expanded the scriptural references in his
editing of the Asketikon and lists LR 17 as one such instance (2005, 136).

19
embodied in the body and face of a corpse-like apparition, “a countenance on which it is impossible to
imagine laughter of any familiar kind”, as Halliwell observes, taking Basil’s statements at face value.73

In a gloss on Luke 6:21 (“Happy are you who now weep, since you shall laugh”) preserved in one of
his homilies, Basil rejects the idea that the laughter envisaged by Christ in the world beyond will take
the form of laughter as we know it, as “noise emitted from the cheeks”.74 Even this form of laughter,
then – “eschatological laughter” seems to be an apt description – must be dissociated from any
bodily (or indeed worldly) connotations and is seemingly transformed as much as the Christian
ascetic’s facial apparition.75

Basil’s rejection of laughter is based on the wholesale condemnation of corporeal impulses as


unerringly indicative of moral dissolution, as a symptom of mankind’s fallen state, a state rightly
bemoaned by weeping. He supports his views by rigorist and selective interpretations of Scripture. The
draconian asceticism evident in these passages provided the theoretical foundation for later monastic
regulations of laughter in Byzantine typika.76 In the fourteenth-century Rule of Patriarch Athanasios I,
which apparently represented an unprecedented attempt to impose uniform legislation binding on all
the Byzantine Empire’s monasteries, the echoes of Basil’s proscriptive responses in the Rules,
authored a millennium earlier, still reverberate in paragraph four, which lays down that “[a]mong the
monks or lay persons living in the monastery, disorderly voices, shouts, disgraceful or idle words, and
laughter should not be heard”.77

Basil was by no means alone in his forceful condemnation of laughter. His contemporary, the highly
influential theologian and ascetic writer Evagrius Ponticus exhorts monks that “[u]ncontrolled laughter
destroys a restrained character”.78 In his Exhortations to a Virgin, Evagrius states that “[l]aughter is
shameful and shamelessness is disgraceful; every foolish person becomes involved in such things”.79
The examples could easily be multiplied.80 In his epilogue, Halliwell describes the ethical and
psychological writings of the most important Greek church fathers as permeated by a “strongly
antigelastic current”. The intellectual traditions of Platonism and Pythagoreism form the Greek-Roman
background to the Christian aversion to laughter. 81 According to Gilhus, “the Christians shared with
Greek and Jewish ascetics the ideal of a perfect human who never laughed”. The ascetic ideals of

73
Halliwell 2008, 516.
74
Halliwell 2008, 516-517.
75
For Luke 6.21 as an “eschatological saying”, cf Rengstorf 1964, 662.
76
For proscriptions on laughter in Byzantine typika, cf Thomas 2000, [24] note 13.
77
Translation in Miller 2000 (cf. his introduction for the historical background).
78
Exhortation to Monks 1.10, cf Sinkewicz, ed. 2003.
79
Exhortation to a Virgin 22, ibid.
80
Additional examples of monastic prohibitions in Halliwell 2008, 516, note 107. Generally, Gilhus concludes
that “the learned men of the early Church … are unanimous in their hostility to laughter” (1997, 62).
81
Halliwell 2008, 517.

20
pagan and Christian asceticism demanded that “[l]aughter had to be conquered to control the body”.82
As Basil saw it, true Christian laughter could only be heard in the world to come, and it would not
sound familiar to our ears.

4.2.2 The laughter of the fool in Wisdom literature.

Scriptural references permeate the writings of the Patristic period, and Basil’s Rules are no exception.
Biblical Wisdom literature associates laughter and folly explicitly on several occasions.

In the wisdom book of Sirach (third century BCE) , it is said that a man’s character can be known
through his dress, his walk and “the laughter of his teeth”, a view reiterated much later in the Judaic
Talmud.83 In Wisdom literature, laughter serves time and again to characterize the fool (μωρός, ἄφρον
et al.). 84 The overall context of these writings is the insurmountable barrier between wisdom and folly.
Fools despise wisdom and instruction (Prov. 1.7) in contrast to their moral superiors, the wise.

In Qoh. 2.2, laughter and madness are explicitly equated: “’Laughter’, I said, ‘is madness’”.85 In Qoh.
7.6, the laughter of a fool (ἄφρον) is compared to “the crackling of thorns under the pot”, a simile
which expresses the repulsive noise dreaded by Basil.86 The statement that “a fool raises his voice in
laughter, but a shrewd man will barely and quietly smile” (Sir. 21.20) is quoted not only by Basil –
Clement of Alexandria (d. 215) likewise cites it approvingly as he condemns “a laughter of wanton
offensiveness”, comparing the Biblical passage to the indecent laughter of Penelope’s suitors in the
Odyssey.87 In addition to these three passages cited by Basil, laughter characterizes the fools and their
sinfulness in Sir. 27.13: “The conversation of fools is disgusting, raucous their laughter in their sinful

82
Gilhus 1997, 64-65.
83
Sir. 19:30, Halliwell 2008, 480 (note 28), 493 (note 57). Talmud, cf Bar-Asher Siegal 2014, 86.
84
Being or appearing as foolish or mindless “takes on various meanings in different contexts” in the Bible
(Bertram 1967, 832, Biblical terminology; 833 note 8). It can designate a person with no true knowledge of
God, or apostates, the impious or schismatics. These religious and political connotations are not as salient in
the Wisdom writings, where the “idea of the fool is a general moral and social matter”, according to Bertram,
referring to Sir. In the canonical Wisdom books (Prov, Qoh., Wis., Ps.), ἄφρον (literally “mindless”) “is used
exclusively or almost exclusively for the fool”. Only in the non-canonical Sir, μωρός is commonly used as an
adjective (ibid. 833-836). Rengstorf likewise notes the repeated association of folly with laughter in certain
Wisdom books (1964, 659).
85
The second colon of the bicolon questions the utility of pleasure, associating laughter with futile merriment
and hedonism: “And what does pleasure accomplish?” According to Longman, “Qohelet denigrates laughter”
repeatedly, cf. 7.3,6 and 10.19 (1998, 88). Crenshaw reflects that “Qohelet brands mirth … a form of madness”
(1988, 77).
86
Halliwell 2008, 514. Seow notes that thorns – a common fuel in the Middle East - not only “generate
disconcerting noises”, they do “not last very long as fuel” either. The mirth of fools “is irritating and
inconsequential; there is a lot less substance than there seems” (1997, 247).
87
Halliwell 2008, 480 (Clement), 490 (Basil).

21
pleasures”.88 Laughter is once more emphatically linked with the fool in Proverbs 10.23.89 The silence
of the fool is praised in Proverbs 17:28.90

As Basil quarried his references to support his views from these Wisdom texts, it might be inferred
that his damnation of laughter is simply a continuation of the moral precepts found in OT Wisdom
books. This is, as I see it, not the case. The character of the fool does not personify laughter as such in
Wisdom literature. The Judaic tradition preserved in the OT affords several examples of a positive
attitude towards laughter as part of the “balanced (and divinely ordained) cycles of existence”, one
prime example being Qoh. 3:1-4, which states that there is indeed a right time (“kairos”) to laugh in
this world – a statement which, as will be remembered, Basil found occasion to question. 91 In
Proverbs 1.26, even Wisdom itself can be described as laughing, a verse which also serves as an
example of laughter as aggressive, scornful mockery, a usage commonly found throughout the OT and
in particular in the wisdom of Proverbs.92 Yahweh is also thought to bestow the gift of laughter to
humans, “to fill the mouths” of righteous persons with joyous laughter.93 The divine Yahweh is
himself capable of laughter.94 These examples testify to the variegated renditions of the act of laughing
in the Hebrew Bible (and within Wisdom literature). As Halliwell observes, the Judaic tradition offers
a much more nuanced perception of laughter than the general suspicion towards laughter prevalent in
the NT writings.95

4.2.3 Encountering laughter in the Apophthegmata Patrum.

How is laughter described in the Apophthegmata Patrum? The act of laughing makes brief but telling
appearances throughout the AP corpus.96 Alongside the edifying affirmations of how monastics should

88
Halliwell, 480.
89
Longman comments that “Proverbs noted that laughter and pleasure often hide grief and sorrow (14:13).
Indeed, Proverbs frequently picture fools laughing on the road to destruction (10:23; 26:19; 29:9)” (1998, 88).
90
“Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent, and discerning if they hold their tongues”.
91
Halliwell 2008, 480. As Longman points out, Qohelet “notes that [even] the wise person cannot discern the
times (see 8:8; 9:11, 12: 10:14)” (1998, 88).
92
Proverbs 1:26, Halliwell 2008, 480. “I in turn will laugh when disaster strikes you;
I will mock when calamity overtakes you”.
93
Some prominent examples: Gen 21.6 (Sarah: ”God has brought me laughter …”); Job 8:21; Ps 126:2 (= LXX
125, translating Hebrew “laughter” with χαρά (joy), not γέλως).
94
Ps 2:4, 37:13; 59:8 (=LXX 2, 36, 58). Halliwell 2008, 479; Rengstorf is skeptical of the opinion that these
passages testify to laughter “as a divine characteristic” (1964, 661).
95
Halliwell 2008, 479.
96
This section is based on my reading of the APsys in its entirety, combined with the indices to the Anonymous
Collection found in Wortley, ed. 2013 (=APanon) and the Greek indices in Guy, ed. 1993-2005 (= APsys). My
investigation is thus not entirely exhaustive, as it leaves out the Alphabetical Collection (APalph), which
combine with the Anonymous Collection (APanon) to form one of the two major redactions of the AP, the
other one being the Systematic Collection (APsys). Many sayings appear in several collections of the AP. Bar-
Asher Siegal briefly compares laughter in the AP and Rabbinic literature (2014, 86–88). Baconsky 1996, 125 sqq
touches upon several of these texts. “The Desert Fathers” are cursorily treated in Gilhus 1997, 61-69.
Translations in the following are from Wortley’ editions unless otherwise stated.

22
behave, numerous sayings spell out the deleterious effects of succumbing to certain acts. Laughter is
one of these.

The most extensive statements regarding laughter appear in chapter three of the APsys, entitled
“Sorrow for sin”. Linking laughter with parrhesia (outspokenness, loose talk), a saint is credited with
saying that

“Now hear about laughter: laughter throws out the blessedness of sorrow. Laughter does not construct,
does not protect; it destroys and demolishes what has been constructed. Laughter grieves the Holy
Spirit, is of no benefit to the soul, and corrupts the body. Laughter chases off the virtues; it has neither
remembrance of death nor contemplation of the punishments“.97

The saying immediately following this likewise associates laughter with parrhesia and harshly states
that succumbing to these lead the monk to the depths of evil: “Laughter and loose talk escort the monk
to disgraceful passions … Laughter and loose talk are the downfall of the monk”. Several sayings in
chapter three follow suit: A monk who laughs at table occasions Abba John Colobos to weep,
wondering “what on earth that brother can have in his heart that he laughed”. In another saying,
laughter is said to drive the fear of God away from a young monk caught in the act. A brief logion
states that ”bold talk and laughter are like fire burning up a straw”.98

In a similar vein, laughter is reckoned among acts wholly unfitting for monks by Abba Nisterus:
“Swearing, making false oaths, lying, getting angry, insulting people, laughing, all that is alien to
monks”.99 The agelastic ideal is embodied by Abba Pambo, who is reported as never having smiled, a
feat shared with St Anthony himself, as well as the philosopher Pyhtagoras – evidently laughter was a
favorite object of hagiographical hyperbole. As the demons try to tempt abba Pambo to laugh, he
laughs at their powerlessness. Gilhus observes that “[h]is pious laughter was not only allowed, but
transformed into a heroic deed”. 100

Speaking of the non-monastics (“the wordlings” or “men of the world”) and their lack of proper self-
control, Amma Synkletike is credited with saying that “they sin with their other senses, for they look
in an unseemly way and laugh in a disorderly manner”.101

In one saying, the ripple effects of laughter is at the center of attention: Small evils may lead to large
ones. Laughing inappropriately is at the outset described as a seemingly small evil, yet “[w]itticism
was born from that; from that, shameful talk and, from that, shameful deeds and transgressions”.
Sinfulness causes despair, from which even the remorseful cannot be saved – and the monk may enter

97
APsys 3.55.
98
APsys 3.56; 3.16; 3.41; 21.37.
99
APalph Nisterus 5 (translation: Ward 1984).
100
APalph Pambo 13.
101
APsys 4.49 / Synkletike 2.

23
this slippery slope by laughing. The saint therefore exhorts his audience not to underestimate little
faults (such as laughter), as they enter the road to perdition by doing so.102

Porneia, the inappropriate sexual movement of body, mind or spirit, entails inter alia “to commit sin
in the body: impurity is the titillation of the body, likewise laughter and loose talking”.103 Laughter is
hence seen not only a symptom, but a cause of corporal sinfulness.

One saying provides a rare example of what appears to be joyous laughter, when an elder laughs thrice
on his deathbed, one of his bursts of laughter seemingly occasioned by his imminent death: “I laughed
because I am passing from labor to repose”.104 Several forms of laughter possibly combine in this
saying, as he also laughs to rebuke the weeping brothers for their fear of death. Vindictive and
scornful laughter is heard in a narrative in which two sons of the Persian king are described as
laughing before torturing Abba Milesios and his two disciples to death – the innocents being the object
of mocking laughter, reminiscent of the derision of Christ.105

In N 534, the virtue of not passing judgment on fellow monastics is exemplified by exhorting the
reader to consider the ones who laugh or over-eat as blessed and sinless.106

While this review of the relevant passages is by no means exhaustive, it shows that the prevailing
attitude towards laughter in the AP is clearly one of profound aversion, even condemnation.
Throughout the collections laughter appears as an act that unswervingly signals a flawed, sinful
character. Laughter may thus serve to discern the monastic’s true nature and his/her progress (or lack
thereof) in the quest for self-control. Laughter may also incite others to sin – it is as much a cause of
sinfulness as a symptom of sin. In this respect, laughter is as much a form a communication as the
parrhesia (loose talk, outspokenness) it is expressly coupled with in several sayings. Laughter is thus a
matter of concern to the monastic community as a whole, not just the struggling individual – the side
effects of laughter may prove detrimental to the communal life. Whenever laughter appears in personal
encounters, it suggests unseemly behavior and sinfulness, frowned upon by the superiors.107 It never
goes unnoticed. The anti-social laugh of the solitaire is, as far as I can see, not recorded in other
sayings than N 408.

102
APanon N 437.
103
APsys 5.51 / APanon N 427.
104
APsys 11.115.
105
APsys 7.17.
106
N 534 should be read in conjunction with N 530 (= APsys 15.132) et seq., where a non-judgmental attitude
towards others based on Biblical precepts is stressed.
107
As in APsys 3.16.

24
4.3 Did Byzantines laugh? Laughter in a Christianized Empire.

Until now the traditions described have been primarily normative; as the records of how specific
groups within society prescribe certain ways of life. Based on the aforesaid, one might assume that
laughter was ousted from the everyday life of ordinary people. But were the mentalities of the
populace at large influenced by the Church’s damnation of laughter, and if so, how?

In his broad exposé of humor and laughter in Byzantium, Princeton professor John Haldon appreciates
that cultural attitudes towards laughter evolved over the Byzantine period, and he regards the steady
advance of Christianity as the major agent of change, serving to transform social and moral attitudes
as Christian ethics gained a stronger foothold in at least some elements of society. No doubt many
devout Christian subjects adhered as best they could to the rigorous ascetic discipline of the monastic
movement and the high moral standards advocated by Christian ascetic writers described above.
Speaking of Byzantine society as a whole, Haldon appreciates that it is “very apparent that the church
struggled in vain across the whole period of existence of the Byzantine state – and indeed beyond – to
prevent displays of spiritual levity”.108 It is in my view worth noting that the monastic culture, so
skeptical of laughter, actually outlived the political and social world into which it was born.
Nevertheless, the tension between ideals and realities are apparent even in the monastic literature, as
we have seen in the stories preserved in the AP.

The Byzantine attitude towards physical deformity provides a telling example of how Christian ethics
and popular (and officially sanctioned) mentalities diverged. In Byzantium, physically deformed
persons were a particular source of amusement to the populace – an attitude abhorrent to Christian
writers, yet continuously attested in satires and lampoons throughout the Byzantine period. The
standard penal punishment exacted on persons ousted from power or would-be usurpers was to
physically mutilate them, usually by gauging out their eyes, cutting out their tongues or cutting off the
nose. Haldon stresses that this rendered the victims not only helpless, but also “laughable [his italics],
and by deliberately mutilating an individual who had threatened the status quo … that individual was
rendered absurd, ridiculous”. The victims were thus not only physically disabled but also subjected to
popular scorn and derision – as I see it, a poignant reminder that laughter may serve to shame and
disgrace others. Even serious theological issues could be made fun of in Byzantium; jokes related to
the fervent Christological debates existed and satire could be directed towards monastics and monastic
life.109

Official Christian enactments sought to align popular culture with Christian ideals. At the Quinisext
council (the council in Trullo, Constantinople, 691/2), ecclesiastical authorities sought to suppress a
number of activities considered immoral and the licentious behavior among Byzantine laity in general.

108
Haldon 2010, 60-61.
109
Cf Haldon 2010, 61-69 for these and other examples.

25
Bans on mimes and pantomimes were introduced, and clerics and monastics were forbidden to attend
theatre performances and games in the hippodrome.110 Holy foolery was one object of concern, and
Canon 60 is probably the most important non-hagiographical source thought to refer to holy foolery
(and pseudo-holy foolery) of the period.111 In effect, Canon 60 rules that anyone who pretended to be
possessed were subjected to the same harsh treatment as “ordinary” demoniacs. In Ivanov’s view,
attitudes to holy foolery changed in the aftermath of the council, as "the first expressions of the fear of
the holy fool" became visible in Byzantine society. 112 Later councils and canon law commentaries
reiterated these proscriptions.

In his article on “Orthodoxy and the everyday”, Byzantinist Hans Georg Beck asks whether the
average Byzantine citizen adhered to laws and decrees which sought to regulate the daily life of the
laity and clerics, one of his examples being some of the Quinisext Council’s many regulations. Beck
answers mainly in the negative and believes that attempts to discipline everyday life were largely
ignored by the laity. 113 In Haldon’s assessment, “[t]he humour of the day-to-day was largely
unaffected by church pronouncements” and “neither court nor the mass of the ordinary population paid
them much attention”. The carnivalesque festival culture continued to involve mimes and jesters.
Satire and parody directed at the upper echelons of society continued to thrive, even as the literary
status of these genres dwindled. Street theatre (often seen as a very close parallel to holy foolery)
continued unabated.114 Church authorities’ repeated attempts to stifle laughter culture were in vain.

Reflecting on the antigelastic attitudes prevalent in Patristic sources, Halliwell observes in his epilogue
that “for many Christians … there must have been an awkward discrepancy between condemnations of
(most) laughter and the lived actuality of their ordinary social lives”. With reference to early
Christianity, he states that it “did not succeed in excising laughter from the life of the body”. 115 This
holds true, I believe, for the Byzantine period in general. As the title of a repeatedly copied anthology
of jokes, the Philogelos or “Laughter-lover”, indicates, Byzantine popular culture remained permissive
of laughter.116

110
Tougher 2010, 143.
111
Canon 60 condemns those “who pretend to be possessed” and who “deceitfully imitate the possessed”
(transl. Ivanov 2006, 131). Scholars generally assume that Canon 60 aims to proscribe holy foolery and abusive
practices connected therewith; Ivanov 2006, 130-131; Konstantinou 2014, 345; Beck 1986, 336 (note 25) et al.
In his study of Canon 60, Wortley adduces that “the false fools must have been … something of a major menace
to sound morals and public safety” at the time (1984, 256). As Wortley notes, true holy foolery would go
undetected (and could thus not be eliminated), and he (rightly, in my view) concludes that the council was
preoccupied with “some abuse or distortion of the practice of holy folly” (ibid. 258-259).
112
Ivanov 2006, 133.
113
Beck 1986, 330: ”Hat sich der Durchschnitts-byzantiner an diese Gesetze und Regulative gehalten oder
nicht?”
114
Haldon 2010, 61-66.
115
Halliwell 2008, 518.
116
The Philogelos was originally compiled around 400 CE (Haldon 2010, 60).

26
4.4 The Cynic tradition.

4.4.1 Laughter as asceticism.

There was, however, one movement deeply rooted in the pagan past which openly advocated laughter
and parrhesia, the intrepid outspokenness, dreaded by Basil the Great and his acolytes: Cynicism, a
cultural and philosophical movement which traces its roots to the fourth century BCE and the founder
Diogenes of Sinope, Socrates’ contemporary.117 Plato famously characterizes Diogenes as “Socrates
gone mad” and “in the Stoic canon of saints and quasi sages, Socrates and Diogenes form a ubiquitous
duo”. 118

Cynicism reemerged in the Roman Empire during the first century CE, when its moral appeal to return
“to an original simplicity and to a state of nature prior to all civilization found attentive audiences at
Rome”. Later, the movement “split along the lines of class, wealth and education”, and gave rise to a
lifestyle-oriented, ascetic mass movement and a “highly literate tradition of ethical reflection and
satire”.119

4.4.2 Cynic laughter.

At its core, Cynicism promoted a practically oriented ascetic lifestyle radically different from the
Christian and other pagan moral standards of Antiquity. Cynicism regarded ethical norms as uniquely
rooted in nature, and insofar as human society’s values deviate from nature, they should be abolished.
Through discipline – askesis – the Cynic can achieve self-sufficiency and personal freedom. This
worldview entailed a life in “rejection of shame, the cornerstone of traditional Greek morality, [which]
authorized them to engage in modes of life that scandalized their society but they regarded as
‘natural’”.120 In their quest to become independent of the outside world, the Cynics strove to break the
chains of social customs and inhibitive cultural constraints. The ostensibly flippant dismissal of the
intellectual cultural heritage (paideia) in its entirety – and the shamelessness which followed in its
wake – has often overshadowed the deeply ethical foundations of the Cynic way of life, according to
Bracht Branham and Goulet-Cazé.121 The ascetic discipline required by the Cynic was “based on
frankness and freedom of speech (parrhesia), which often led to withering retorts and reprimands, and
on laughter – fearless laughter that shook the interlocutor and forced him to react”.122 Although it is
uncertain whether the Cynics ever used the adjective to describe themselves, “spoudogeloios” (“serio-
comic” or serio-ludic”) is sometimes used by modern scholars to describe the Cynic tradition of

117
The following brief survey is based on Bracht Branham & Goulet-Cazé 1996; Long 1996.
118
Diogenes Laërtius (third century), Lives and Opinions of Eminent Philosophers, 6.43. Bracht Branham &
Goulet-Cazé 1996, 9; Long 1996, 28.
119
Bracht Branham & Goulet-Cazé 1996, 6-16.
120
Bracht Branham & Goulet-Caze 1996, 4-5.
121
1996, 23-25.
122
Bracht Branham & Goulet-Cazé 1996, 27.

27
laughter in its entirety. Ancient sources on Cynicism “treats Cynic adherents … as unusually given to
laughter”. 123 Throughout the chreiai (sayings attributed to Diogenes and anecdotes about him)
preserved by Diogenes Laërtius (third century CE), there is, in Halliwell’s view, an “unmistakably
high visibility of what would be normally laughter-inducing techniques”. These include puns, parody,
satire, witticisms – Cynicism developed a range of literary genres that survived the movement. The
Cynic “is both performer of and the prime audience of his own jests”, as Halliwell describes Diogenes
of Sinope. 124 The Cynic thus interacts with society to mock and ridicule its values, making himself
the object of scorn and harassment at the same time. The Socratic heritage is evident.

4.4.3 The Cynic tradition and holy foolery.

The Cynic tradition as exemplified by Diogenes survived throughout the Byzantine era, to a large
extent through the chreiai preserved in rhetorical handbooks for use in schools – as the Cynic
equivalent of the use of the AP collections in a Christian monastic context proposed by some
scholars.125 In view of what has been said so far of Cynicism, it no doubt appears as paradoxical that
Basil the Great appreciated the heritage of Diogenes and Cynicism. Basil’ s immense respect for
ancient learning and pagan intellectual culture – he authored the highly influential treatise Letter to
Young Men on How they might benefit from Pagan Literature – extended to Diogenes insofar as he
represented a moral exemplar worthy of imitation by reason of his poverty and ascetic self-control .
The shameless acts were left without comment.126 Basil’s fellow theologians were not as favorably
disposed to Cynicism and its founder. In his study of the Byzantine reception of Cynicism and its
impact on the seventh-century Life of Symeon, Derek Krueger sums it up by stating that regardless of
the fact that “[t]he Church fathers were understandably concerned about Cynic obscenity”, the
“Christians did not share a unified stand towards Diogenes”.127 Through Basil, “Diogenes became
firmly rooted in the Christian intellectual tradition”.128 While the possible Cynic influence on holy
foolery was briefly suggested as early as 1938 by German scholar Ernst Benz (1907-1978), it came to
play a pivotal role in Derek Krueger’s study of the Life of Symeon, where Krueger investigates the

“[L]iterary relationship between [the Life of Symeon] and literary traditions about Diogenes of Sinope,
the Cynic philosopher, a relationship which has serious implications for our understanding of

123
Halliwell 2008, 372-374.
124
Halliwell 2008, 378-79.
125
Krueger 1996a, 74-78 (“The survival of Diogenes traditions in Late Antiquity”). Krueger proceeds to discuss
Christian attitudes towards Diogenes and the Cynic philosophical heritage. When Cynicism reemerged in the
Roman Empire, Diogenes had become a stock character of didactic literature and the authenticity of sayings
and deeds attributed to him is a moot question.
126
Krueger 1996a, 80.
127
Krueger 1996a, 106, 87.
128
Krueger 1996a, 79.

28
Symeon’s behavior – both his shamelessness and asceticism – as well as Leontius’ conception of folly
for the sake of Christ”.129

Krueger singles out four allusions in the Life of Symeon to Diogenes’ shameless acts: Defecating in
public, eating lupines, eating raw meat and, finally, entering the city of Emesa dragging a dead dog.130
The portrayal of Symeon the holy fool as a “latter-day Cynic” suggests to Krueger that “Leontius
carefully models Symeon’s behavior on that attributed to this Cynic philosopher”.131 In Krueger’s
view, the author “constructs [his italics] Symeon and Diogenes as parallel phenomena”. In other
words, the portrayal of important aspects of the apparently mad behavior of the fool Symeon – his
role as “salos” – is based on Cynic traditions that survived in Late Antiquity. According to Krueger,
the allusions to Diogenes and Cynicism “render Symeon’s behavior comprehensible”. As the Cynics
were seen as morally praiseworthy by (some) Christians, Diogenes serves to legitimate Symeon as a
holy man. The holy fool becomes “an instrument of cultural criticism”, not unlike the Cynic forebears.

Krueger’s thesis presupposes a readership familiar with Cynicism’s inherent claims to morality, for
which the Cynically inspired acts communicated deeply moral sentiments. What appears as scandalous
behavior to us, was, as a result of “the force of tradition”, seen by Leontius’ contemporaries as acts
which singled the holy fool out as praiseworthy, according to Krueger. 132 However, he rejects the idea
that Symeon is a Cynic or that the author, bishop Leontius, intends to portray him as one. Ultimately,
“[t]he Cynic model is [only] useful in Leontius’ endeavor to instruct his audience”. The story of the
fool is inspired by “the methods of Cynic anecdotes to tell a Christian story “.133 Krueger compares
texts and does not suggest “that the behavior of a sixth-century saint was motivated or influenced by
Cynics or Cynicism”.134

In my view, Krueger’s study represents the most serious attempt to understand how literary traditions
shape the role (behavior) of a holy fool. He suggests that important literary elements in Symeon’s vita
are rooted in a tradition of moral philosophy which in many respects is alien to the mainstream
Christianity of Late Antiquity. With the disappearance of a readership familiar with Cynic tradition,
the behavior becomes incomprehensible as the acts are deracinated from the tradition of moral
philosophy which sustained them. What the Cynics and the learned Christian readership viewed as an
expression of the true self, or at least as a witness to a high moral stance, was reduced to obscene
roleplaying in the eyes of later generations of readers. The Christian holy man or woman who

129
Krueger 1996a, 92; Benz 1938, 18.
130
Krueger 1996a, 92 – 103.
131
Krueger 1996a, 73, 105.
132
Krueger 1996a, 105-107. It is worth recalling that the sight of Cynics “begging and preaching was not an
uncommon one in the cities of the East” (Bracht Branham & Goulet-Cazé 1996, 16 (referring to Roman period)).
133
Krueger 1996a, 129.
134
Krueger 1996a, 91-92.

29
combines shamelessness and piety, the fool, is on this account shaped by two literary traditions.
Krueger’s views on the Cynic legacy’s significance for the Life of Symeon are not uncontroversial.135

Chapter 5. Traditions and the role of the fool in N 408.

5.1 Introduction.

The story of the laughing monk, then, is embedded in a Late Antique/Byzantine cultural landscape
where laughter had a “rainbow of meanings” in various traditions. Assuming that the role play is
dependent on the Late Antique cultural discourse on laughter, we must first inquire how the role of the
fool is shaped by one or several of these cultural traditions, if the question of how the role of the fool
is created is to be answered. Which tradition (if any) provides an interpretive trajectory within which
laughter attains the status of a credible “mask of madness”?

5.2 Laughter befits the fool: N 408 and the Christian tradition.

As mentioned previously, stories of holy foolery share many elements with other texts on secret
sainthood, and one may justifiably speak of a common literary typology.136 In these stories, the plot
tends to revolve around the difficulties in identifying true holiness. This is the predominant theme in N
408 as well. Roles and disguises may change, but the stories’ climax is invariably the revelation of an
erstwhile outcast as truly holy and virtuous.

Apart from N 408, Palladius’ early fifth-century story of the nameless nun in the Egyptian Tabennesi
monastery is the only extended narrative involving holy foolery from this period set within a monastic
(cenobitic) community.137 In a posthumously published article on “the secret holy man” (“Der
verborgene Heilige”), Bousset briefly notes how the monastic setting influences the unfolding of the
plot in these two stories.138 In both stories, divine will intervenes to reveal a secret holy person living
in the midst of their communities.139 These characters’ offensive behavior causes resentment on the
part of their fellow monastics (Bousset does not discuss the characters’ roles in any detail); in N 408,
laughter causes estrangement and isolation; in Palladius’ story the “mad” nun is confined to kitchen

135
Cf. Krueger’s discussion of previous scholarship (1996a, 90-92). Add to this critical remarks by Ivanov, who
nevertheless acknowledges that holy foolery contains features well-known from Cynicism (2006, 107-108, 18).
Cf my discussion in 5.3.
136
Krueger 1996a, 70-71.
137
A cenobitic community consists of “monks living in a centrally organized monastery” (Rubenson 2007, 646).
138
Bousset 1921, 1-2 (footnote 3).
139
In N 408 the divine intervention is represented by the three visitors, in the story of the mad nun, the holy
man Piteroum is advised by an angel that a person holier than himself resides in the Egyptian monastery of
Tabennisi.

30
work and ridiculed by the other nuns (the modern-day Cinderella story is thought by some scholars to
originate in this Byzantine narrative; it is the earliest dated text on holy foolery).140

The unveiling of sanctity differs markedly between these two stories. In Palladius’ text the “mad” nun
wears a filthy rag around her head, recognized as the crown foretold to be the mark of the holy woman
by an angel. The quixotic Piteroum reveals her holiness to her fellow nuns, upon which she flees into
the desert, never to be seen again. In N 408 the monk’s puzzling sorting of pebbles in the baskets
suggests his holiness to the abba, and not the laughter. The two acts are clearly separated in the
narrative.

The conventions imposed by the literary typology of these stories of secret holiness, then, require traits
recognized as repulsive by other narrative characters as well as the monastic readership. The roles
assigned to the characters are widely different, yet their deviance must be construed as immoral within
the social and cultural setting of the monastery. In N 408, the ascetic tradition itself supplies a credible
role: Incessant laughter. In addition to the stern precepts of Basil, laughter is closely associated with
madness in the Wisdom literature, quoted by Basil. While the testimony of the AP is somewhat more
nuanced, laughter is regularly seen as deviant behavior throughout the vast collections of sayings of
the AP. The role bestowed on the fool, then, mirrors the stern moral precepts of the ascetic tradition,
precepts well-known to the majority of the monastic readership. The setting of the monastery requires
a role play shameful to the community, and laughter represents a credible form of estrangement, at
least from the viewpoint of the “Basilian” tradition.141 At the same time, his laughing does not compel
the fellow monastics to expel him from the community. As shameful as it may be, it is not so
repugnant that the culprit is cast out, perhaps an indication of the ineradicable nature of human
laughter.

Baconsky entitles his chapter on holy foolery “From the sacred to the profane”, an expression which
eminently captures the inherent paradox of holy foolery.142 In itself, holy foolery is a variation on
Paul’s theme wherein he paradoxically juxtaposes foolishness and wisdom, admonishing his
Corinthian readers to “become fools so that you may become wise” (1 Cor 3:18). The fool “takes the
apostle’s words literally”, and recreates the irreconciliability of the world we inhabit and God’s
kingdom as an “entire manner of life”, as Orthodox bishop Kallistos Ware observes.143

The ultimate paradox of Christianity is that God became man in Christ – the divine joined to mortal
flesh, the sacred immersed in the profane.144 In her discussion of the importance of paradox in Late

140
Paraphrase in Ivanov 2006, 51-53. This is probably the most-studied Byzantine holy foolery text apart from
the Life of Symeon.
141
The role in Palladius’ story is far less subtly expressed.
142
Baconsky 1996, 267: “Du sacré au profane: les fous en Christ”.
143
Ware 2001, 168.
144
Cf. Krueger’s discussion of the paradoxical nature of Christianity and holy foolery (1996a, 124-125).

31
Antique Christian texts, Byzantinist Averil Cameron reflects that Christianity as a whole can be seen
“as resting on impossible opposites”, and “if it is the nature of the ultimate truth to be hidden, it will be
revealed only through signs, linguistic or otherwise”.145 The role play of the fools represents, in my
view, exactly this “otherwise”, yet notably as expressions of the profane within a narrative shaped by
paradox. As quintessential elements of the paradox, signs of profanity actually acquire some form of
theological significance in these stories. Without the role play, no genuine paradox would exist. The
inverted holy man mimics the great paradox of Christianity. Through paradox, then, signs of
foolishness emerge as theologically meaningful in a Christian discourse. In an essay on the parting of
the ways of Eastern and Western Christianity, historian Peter Brown notes how “[s]anctity, for the
East Romans, always bordered on the paradoxical”, and as a “device of inclusion”, the “paradox of
sanctity enabled the holy to scatter itself widely throughout Byzantine society”. 146 In his much-
discussed essay on the “The rise and function of the holy man in Late Antiquity”, Brown refers to the
holy man (viz. fools) as a “’stranger’ par excellence” (author’s italics) and “the total stranger”.147

True as this may be, it did not entail a reassessment of profanity (e.g., laughter) as such. Profanity is
not extolled in N 408 and laughter is altogether dissociated from virtue. The immediate disclosure in
N 408 that this is pretended madness obliges the readers to acknowledge that laughter is inappropriate.
Laughter is, moreover, never endorsed by any of the characters and fades into the background as the
story unfolds. As mentioned earlier, laughter only creates conflict in this text. Laughter still befits
only the “men of the world” (APsys 4.49), not the monastics.

The paradox expounded in N 408 is not, therefore, that Late Antique Christianity hailed laughing
madmen or -women as holy – a notion to which I shall return below (cf. 5.4) – rather the paradox is
that a holy man, whose true nature is revealed as the story unfolds, laughs. The expression of the
ultimately elusive nature of holiness through paradox thus fathoms the absolutely profane in ascetic
tradition: laughter. The fool, as a consequence, is a saint “in spite of” his laughter. Laughter-as-folly
is, as I have stated earlier, a profoundly Christianized role. The laughing monk embodies a paradox
shaped wholly within Christian tradition. As a consequence, the genuine paradox is to some extent lost
on readers unfamiliar with the prevailing views on laughter within the monastic tradition of this
period.

The role play of the fool also expresses a deep irony found in many stories of secret saints.148 In
Konstantinou’s words, “[t]he most holy man behaves in public as his exact opposite, namely as a
deeply sinful madman”.149 Irony thus presupposes an antithesis between the true holiness and the role

145
Cameron 1991, 158-160.
146
Brown 1982a, 183-185.
147
Brown 1982b, 130-131.
148
Irony is very commonly found in stories of secret sainthood, cf Krueger 1996a, 71.
149
Konstantinou 2014, 354

32
of the saint, the real and the apparent. For irony to work, the outward appearance must be self-
evidently sinful – as laughter is within the ascetic tradition. This assumes that a clear distinction can be
made between insanity and normalcy, a perennially hazardous endeavor. If seen as a sign of
involuntary (and real) insanity, laughter could not be construed as a volitional act of sin. The fool
could, in fact, only appear to be sinful. The hesitant attitude of the narrative audience when confronted
with laughter reflects this ambiguity.

Irony separates those who do not know from those who know within the narrative, and allows the
readers to reflect on the characters. Even the abba’s use of the word “salos” may be ironical in N 408:
When the abba directs the brother “not to take them to the brother who is a fool (“salos”)”, the
ambiguity of the word leaves the question open whether he refers to a holy fool or simply a stupid
person.150 The readers, however, already know that the monk only pretends and is thus a true holy fool
– a skillful play on the ambiguity of the word “salos”.

Finally, as a story of edification, N 408 teaches its readership that holiness remains ultimately
mysterious and elusive. Discernment of holiness requires divine providence. In addition, through the
choice of laughter as the sign of foolishness, N 408 affirms the ascetic tradition’s hostility towards
laughter, consonant with views propounded recently by AP scholars, who stress the didactic purpose
of the AP texts and regard them as functioning as “something of a distillation of approved social
mores”, and as “instrumental in forming the type of citizen that a particular society needed”. 151

In conclusion, the fool’s role is created and shaped to accommodate the specific literary setting of the
monastery. Laughter is sufficient to create the estrangement which holy foolery demands, by way of
the forceful condemnation of laughter proffered by the Late Antique ascetic tradition itself. At the
same time, the role communicates the moral precepts which permeate the ascetic tradition as a whole:
Laughter befits the fool.

5.3 The Cynic tradition and N 408.

Several modern studies on holy foolery discuss its relations to Late Antique Cynicism. Ivanov largely
disavows Cynic influence of any significance on Byzantine holy foolery, concluding that “a huge gulf
separates the Cynic from the holy fool”.152 Derek Krueger, on the other hand, goes so far as to claim
that certain elements of Symeon’s behavior is modelled on Cynicism (or, more specifically, certain
Cynic chreiai). Leontius’ complex portrayal of Symeon allows for the “double legacy” of Diogenes
and Christ in the literary creation of the ‘fool for Christ’s sake’, and Symeon’s apparent madness is

150
Cf the discussion of the word ”salos” in ch. 2.3.
151
Larsen 2006, 411-412; cf also Rapp 2010, esp. 126-127.
152
Ivanov 2006, pp 16-17.

33
“his most defining attribute”.153 Krueger, however, makes no claim for Cynic influence on other
stories of holy foolery. Nevertheless, the importance of laughter and laughter-inducing techniques to
Cynic tradition merits attention. Is it possible to discern any distinctly Cynic influence on N 408?

An important argument against any such influence on N 408 is the context provided by the AP texts.
As seen in ch. 4.2.3, laughter was regularly seen as suspect and a potential threat to monastic ideals.
Nor do other holy foolery texts preserved in the AP reveal any traces of specific Cynic influence. The
only other saying to discuss the acts of the fool in any detail, APanon N 71, makes use of decidedly
Biblical imagery and vocabulary to answer the question “how do I become a fool for Christ’s sake”.
Furthermore, to perceive Symeon’s Cynically-inspired ludicrous behavior as “saintly” required a
readership conversant with the Cynic tradition. With regard to N 408, one would have to assume that
the largely monastic readership was similarly attuned to Cynic traditions. Even as the sayings of the
AP may possibly have been available to “a larger reading public, even outside of monastic circles”,
any such proposals must remain, I believe, very tentative, especially given our imperfect knowledge of
the readership of the AP collections.154

And yet, readers versed in Cynic literature who accepted the fool Symeon as a“moral exemplar” (if we
accept Krueger’s thesis) could easily recognize a laughing monk as somehow akin to Cynic holy men.
However, Krueger’s study shows more than anything else how what I would label the Socratic intent
of Cynic ethics is personified in the fool, whose baroque behavior is founded on moral precepts.
Allusions to the Cynic Diogenes “render Symeon’s behavior comprehensible” as “morally and
intellectually acceptable to educated Christians”.155 The anti-social laughter of the monk in N 408
reveals no such inclination to address moral issues – as the unravelling of the story shows, laughter
serves in the end only as deception, not to be confused with his true personality. It is but a role.

On a more superficial level, it must be noted that the Life of Symeon contains no acts of solitary
laughter comparable to the one in N 408; this is perhaps not surprising given the radically different
settings of the two stories: the bustling city of Emesa versus the solitude of the desert monastery.156

In several important respects, however, Cynic and Christian traditions concur. The inversion of social
and moral values – in Christian tradition deeply connected with paradox (cf. 5.2) – was seen as
eminently commendable to the Cynics, as only a life uninhibited by social conventions was truly
virtuous. Even as the moral foundations of the two traditions differ, Christian asceticism and
Cynicism (eloquently described as the “ascetic inversion of askesis”) share a mutual interest in the

153
Krueger 1996a, 126, 103.
154
Rapp 2010, 124, cf above footnote 10.
155
Krueger 1996a, 105.
156
Laughter is mentioned only a few times in the Life of Symeon.

34
communication of moral transgressions. 157 The Christian and Cynic traditions thus converge in their
views on laughter (and other expressions connected with bodily functions) as important forms of para-
linguistic communication. Both traditions attached meaning to laughing. Yet perhaps only Cynicism
fully infused “the most natural and apparently meaningless human activities” with meaning and
“recreated [bodily functions] as a form of language”.158

The didactic use of Cynic chreiai in the Late Antique period likewise dovetails with the edifying
purpose of the story in N 408 (and many other Christian edifying stories of the same period). Both the
Cynic and Christian traditions teach discernment of true virtue and, importantly, neither one
encouraged imitation of the acts described. Obscenity in Cynic didactic literature “communicated a
judgement concerning appropriate behavior” and “[s]choolchildren were not taught to imitate
Diogenes, but rather to distinguish appropriate modes of behavior from inappropriate ones”. 159 Telling
a story about laughter is not the same as endorsing it. Overall, these stories need to be read as part of a
much wider discourse related to moral instruction within Late Antique paideia. Recent suggestions
that AP texts were Christian chreiai for use in forms of monastic education emphasizes the continuity
between Christian and “pagan” Late Antique paideia.160 Even extended narratives such as N 408 may
contain such didactic elements, as the motif of laughter-as-folly in N 408 perhaps indicates.161

Confined to the realm of literature, then, the Cynic and Christian traditions (e.g., N 408) may be said
to merge in the use of laughter as a provocation meant to produce a moral reflection on the proper
discernment of virtue. However, to propose any specific Cynic influence on N 408 is not, in my view,
well-founded.

5.4 Paradox lost: Sainthood “because of” laughter?

The profound skepticism towards laughter evinced in the Christian ascetic tradition was not shared by
Late Antique society as a whole. As we have seen (ch. 4.3), laughter was widely accepted within
Byzantine culture. If read as a morally edifying tale, then, N 408 condemns the tradition which
prevailed in Byzantine society at large. In 691/2, at the Quinisext Council, ecclesiastical authorities
took steps to eradicate the practice of holy foolery in Byzantine society, describing it as “demonizing”
in its sixtieth Canon.162 Very little seems to be known of what compelled the Church to proscribe holy
foolery. No doubt Canon 60 must be set against the backdrop of the Christian (and ultimately Platonic)

157
Krueger 1996b, 236.
158
Krueger 1996b, 239.
159
Krueger 1996b, 238-239; ”[n]o extant ancient writing employs the stories about Diogenes to advocate
subversion of the social order through obscenity” (238).
160
Important aspects of this relationship are explored in the project Early Monasticism and Classical Paideia
(Lund University); a general overview is provided by Rubenson 2013. Cf my concluding remarks in ch. 2.1.
161
Rapp notes that “short narratives” can be seen as chreiai (2010, 126).
162
Halliwell 2008, 506.

35
rejection of mimetic acts as equally reprehensible as the acts they represented.163 Yet Canon 60 also
justifies some comments on the possibly transformative aspects of the roles of holy fools, if only as a
theme hitherto little explored (at least in the scholarly literature on holy foolery known to me). The
absence of sources related to Canon 60 admittedly renders this discussion somewhat hypothetical.

Ivanov describes the perpetual dilemma of the fools’ Byzantine audiences as how to distinguish
between the saint and the madman.164 I would in addition suggest that we should examine how role
play, eminently dynamic, transformed the semiotics of holiness.

Holy foolery intended to promote sainthood “in spite of” the acts described. The Christian ascetic
tradition suggests no idolatry of the profane. Once the subtlety of the Christian paradox is lost,
however, holiness may accrue to the semiotics of the roles themselves, and holy foolery develops into
sainthood “because of”. Profane and vulgar acts, some of them ostensibly immoral, which were
intended to form part of the paradox within a Christian moral paradigm, may come to be seen not as
revolting provocations, but as forms of “sacred gestures” in themselves, as Per-Arne Bodin aptly
comments on postmodern Russian foolery.165 Holy foolery thus transforms the aesthetics of holiness.

The initial question of the Byzantine spectators, then, was not simply whether a person is mad or not,
rather the role play forced the audience to reflect on how the signs used in role play should be
interpreted; as signs of profanity or as signs of holiness? If madness – or deviant behavior in general –
is somehow indicative of holiness, all the signs associated therewith acquire a new import. This re-
evaluation of the cultural range of symbols could provide, in my view, impetus to the sacralization of
symbols of profanity. As a culturally multivalent symbol, laughter was inter alia associated with
madness and otherness.166 Divorced from its ascetic context, its monastic readership and bereft of its
paradoxical status, the laughter of the monk in N 408, viewed as immoral inside the ascetic tradition
and as a potent symbol of madness, may plausibly be recognized as an expression of holiness when
performed by a (holy?) fool. When Michel De Certeau describes the holy vocation of the Byzantine
fool as represented by the “laughter of madmen”, his choice of words inadvertently touches on the
facet of role play discussed here.167 Holy fools may have induced their audience to reevaluate
expressions of holiness through their choice of “masks of madness”. Intentionally or not, profanity
could be endorsed and immoral acts idealized. What was at stake for the Church’s authorities at the
Quinisext Council, then, was perhaps the inclination to preserve holy foolery as truly paradoxical, as
holiness “in spite of” rather than “because of”. Holy foolery should not sanctify oddity or promote
immoral acts for their own sake.

163
Halliwell 2008, 506 (Halliwell does not discuss holy foolery).
164
Ivanov 2006, 204, 405.
165
Bodin 2006 (”sakral gest”).
166
Halliwell 2008, 17-18.
167
De Certeau 1995, 39-48.

36
Chapter 6. Conclusion: Paradox embodied.

Orthodox bishop Kallistos Ware reflects that within Eastern Christianity “there is no figure more
paradoxical and, in the eyes of many, more scandalous than the holy fool”.168 The role play of the fool
is the foundation of both paradox and scandal in Byzantine texts. The role characteristics of madness
are invariably culturally determined. Laughter, as we have seen, is imbued with a “rainbow of
meanings” in various traditions and its occurrence in a specific text invites readers to reflect on various
interpretations. The ambiguity of human laughter makes it a particularly challenging case to study as
the “mask of madness” of a Byzantine holy fool.

When I first read N 408, I assumed without question that laughter was indeed part of the role play of
the “salos”. Yet, I eventually asked myself, why was this so? How were these ostensibly “mad” roles
created? By what process did laughter become a credible mask of madness of a Byzantine holy man?

Within fifth- to ninth-century Byzantium, major traditions co-existed which valued laughter quite
differently.

In my view, the Christian ascetic tradition provides the most cogent overall explanation of many facets
of the laughter in N 408, in particular the development of the motif of laughter-as-madness as a
credible role of the fool within the narrative setting of the monastic community. As this motif is
juxtaposed with holiness and virtue, they combine to form the paradox on which stories of holy fools
depend. The role’s primary function in this text – and I believe this is true for holy foolery texts in
general – is to create paradox. The role in N 408, then, is created by and shaped within the ascetic
literary tradition. Paradox depends ultimately on tradition. The paradox is not that Christianity hailed
“mad men” as holy (a popular misconception of holy foolery), rather the paradox is that a holy man is
described as laughing, as an paradoxical expression of his ascetic vocation. The Byzantine fool is no
real fool. He is a saint.

Furthermore, the choice of laughter as a fool’s role reinforces the ascetic tradition’s disparaging view
of laughter. As Ivanov notes, “the virtue of the holy fool [in N 408] has no connection with his role-
playing and is certainly not derived from it”.169 N 408, then, propagates moral conformity and
promotes monastic identity by dissociating laughter from virtuous behavior. Laughter is not reassessed
in this text – it is still seen as offensive. This serves as a reminder that holy foolery (or secret
sainthood in general) was never about promoting immoral acts for their own sake. A text which
ostensibly endorses outrageous behavior, conveys on the contrary a (perhaps disappointingly!)
conformist view of monastic moral conduct.

168
Ware 2001, 153.
169
Ivanov 2006, 36.

37
Scandal, then, was never intended as anything more than a means to an end. Pretense in itself is not
sanctified, neither in this nor other Byzantine texts. Holiness is not derived from role playing or
deception.

While Christian ascetic tradition creates a paradox by dissociating laughter from holiness, as
sainthood “in spite of” laughter, the Cynic tradition views laughter as somehow expressive of the
ascetic life itself. Outside the Late Antique monastic sphere, laughter became “unparadoxical” and
“natural”. Personally I find Krueger’s account of the Cynic influence on the Life of Symeon
convincing. Some of Symeon’s acts have a specific Cynic pedigree which allowed contemporary
readers (and modern-day historians) to identify the Cynic influence with some certainty. In contrast to
the Cynic chreiai which add resonance to Symeon’s frivolous acts (and on which Krueger’s argument
depends), I have not come across a single instance of solitary laughter comparable to N 408 in Cynic
sources. If N 408 were a Cynically-inspired text, one would expect it to somehow point to laughter as
a revelation of the true and natural state of man, uninhibited by social convention – laughter as an
expression of ascetic practice. If Symeon’s role play is in part a legacy of Late Antique Cynicism, the
laughing monk is on my account a thoroughly Christianized fool.

The mainstream discourse on laughter in Byzantium evidently never conformed to the stern Christian
tradition, and Byzantine society as a whole remained quite permissive of laughter. I have suggested
that the view of holy foolery as “demoniac” in Canon 60 of the Quinisext Council (691/2) may
possibly be a reaction against role play seen as offensive by Church authorities and equally inoffensive
in the eyes of the Byzantine populace. Laughter may serve as an example of such role play..

As foolish role play evolved as a form of lay peoples’ theatre on the streets of Byzantine cities, the
inclusion of such morally ambivalent acts, which at the same time were perceived as credible signs of
madness, may have transformed the tradition of holy foolery into sainthood “because of” certain acts,
to borrow Ivanov’s expression.

Admittedly, the paucity of sources renders my proposals largely conjectural, yet I believe my
investigation at least points to what I would call the inherent volatility of paradox, especially if
dependent on signs that by their very nature are protean and susceptible to a multitude of
interpretations within co-existing cultural traditions. It was, perhaps, this transformation and
subsequent loss of genuine paradox which precipitated the Council’s apparently futile attempt to
ostracize holy foolery.

It is time to return to the story of the blessed Prokopii, the Russian fool who killed the infant child. It
will no doubt offer some solace to my readers to learn that this act, too, was some form of role play.
As his family gathers at his interment, the holy fool makes his way to the coffin and resurrects the

38
child before the eyes of astounded mourners, thus proving his holy nature.170 The Russian
hagiographers’ use of a taboo-like transgression communicates insanity across cultural divides. A
millennium or so earlier, the anonymous Byzantine author of N 408 chose laughter as the fool’s “mask
of madness”. Unlike the Russian fool’s mad act, it requires explanation. While infanticide bears little
resemblance to laughter, both provide literary roles shaped to create paradox. Narrative and cultural
tradition combine to create the role of the fool. Through his role play, the fool in N 408 embodies a
paradox shaped by the Christian tradition.

170
Cf footnote 1.

39
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Appendix 1: APanon N 408 (Wortley, ed. 2013, 259-260):

45
Wortley’s translation:

46
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