Rembrandt as literary critic

Howard Wallace has been delving ‘artfully’ into the biblical stories that fascinated Rembrandt. Howard writes:

The National Gallery of Victoria’s collection of two paintings by Rembrandt does not give a hint of the large body of Rembrandt’s work containing religious themes or stories. It is to the gallery’s considerable collection of prints by Rembrandt that we must look to get a fuller sense of where and how the Christian faith and its Scripture impact on his work. Rembrandt came to religious themes through his reading of the Bible, both Old and New Testaments as well as the Apocrypha. The question can then be asked, how well or how closely did Rembrandt read these biblical texts?

While we have no evidence of Rembrandt’s formal connection with any church, that does not preclude his participation in some church activities. We might also conclude from his education that the Bible played a significant part in his early life. Aspects of his treatment of biblical subjects suggests a strong interest in theological and hermeneutical issues especially from a Protestant perspective. His wide commercial and social contacts also suggest a strong familiarity with the theological and ecclesial diversity of Leiden and later Amsterdam.

What, then, do the NGV’s collection of Rembrandt prints contribute to this discussion?

The subject of Rembrandt’s etching, Abraham’s dismissal of Hagar, his wife’s maid, and her son by Abraham, Ishmael, is told twice in the Book of Genesis. We must look at the context of the story to appreciate it fully and Rembrandt’s interpretation of it.

At the start of the Abraham story, God promises the patriarch that he will become the ancestor of a great nation. But as Abraham approaches the end of his life, this promise remains unfulfilled. Moreover, we are told Sarah, Abraham’s first and primary wife, remains barren. A series of alternate ways in which the promise might be seen to be fulfilled is explored. Each ‘alternative’ fulfilment is dismissed within the narrative. Lot, Abraham’s nephew, separates himself from Abraham’s tribe and so cannot become a source of descendants. Eliezer, a servant in Abraham’s household, was suggested as a possible heir by Abraham himself but in the narrative God dismisses this proposal. Finally, Sarah offers her slave-girl, the Egyptian Hagar, to Abraham as a concubine. Sarah might thus have a surrogate child with Abraham via Hagar. This plan, which in that historical and social context was legal, acceptable, and moral, succeeds in that Hagar falls pregnant to Abraham and bears a son, Ishmael. However, strife develops between the two women. Hagar develops contempt for Sarah who in turn becomes jealous of her Egyptian slave. The tension grows even after Sarah finally bears a son, Isaac, and in the end, Sarah demands that Abraham banish Hagar and Ishmael. This is the point in the story that Rembrandt’s etching portrays.

In the literary account, the frequent use of the verb ‘to see’ is important. Hagar looks upon Sarah, i.e. sees her, with contempt. Sarah, when she sees Ishmael playing with Isaac, becomes cruelly jealous. Later God sees Hagar and Ishmael in distress and saves them. This human act of seeing, of perceiving, and responding emotionally to what we see, is what Rembrandt picks up on in the story. But Rembrandt also seems to pick up on another subtle element in the literary account. A little before the scene of the banishment we hear of Abraham circumcising Isaac. Several times in that narrative Isaac is called ‘his son’, i.e. Abraham’s son. But when the banishment scene is recounted we read:

But Sarah saw the son of Hagar the Egyptian, whom she had borne to Abraham, playing with her son Isaac. So she said to Abraham, “Cast out this slave woman with her son; for the son of this slave woman shall not inherit along with my son Isaac.” The matter was very distressing to Abraham on account of his son. But God said to Abraham, “Do not be distressed because of the boy and because of your slave woman; whatever Sarah says to you, do as she tells you, for it is through Isaac that offspring shall be named for you. As for the son of the slave woman, I will make a nation of him also, because he is your offspring. (Gen 21:9-13)

Note how the boys are now respectively attached to their mothers, the ‘son of Hagar the Egyptian’ and ‘Her (i.e. Sarah’s) son Isaac’. What we hear of Abraham’s feelings in this bitter matter is this: ‘The matter was very distressing to Abraham on account of his son.’ Quite startlingly, Ishmael has become Abraham’s son over whom he is distressed. The story subtly but clearly portrays affection in Abraham for Ishmael, his first-born son, whose mother is an Egyptian slave-girl. In this affection Abraham stands alone for even God seems to keep some distance from the boy.

Note the way Rembrandt has portrayed the scene. The greatest amount of detail in terms of attire is given to Abraham and Ishmael. A distraught Hagar, a smirking Sarah and a chubby little Isaac fade into the background. Notice Abraham’s feet and hands. One foot on the doorstep, half turned toward the house, the other on the ground pointing away. One hand stretched out toward Ishmael as if in blessing, the other tentatively hovering over the doorstep. Rembrandt has portrayed the ambivalence of Abraham in the scene; the pull toward Sarah and the promise given to him by God, and on the other hand the very human affection for a child he has fathered. Rembrandt has, I believe, captured the feeling of Abraham for this son who is not ‘the promised one’. This is a very human appreciation of the scene but one that is also hinted at near the end of the story itself where we get a glimpse of a division within this chosen family: Sarah and her son Isaac – Abraham and ‘his son’ Ishmael.

Rembrandt has read the story closely. And he continues to consider the human scene portrayed by the story as this pen drawing from some 15 years later shows. Abraham doesn’t just waver between his divided feelings on the step of his house, now he walks down the path with Hagar and Ishmael, blessing the boy and tenderly comforting his mother. A diminished Sarah and possibly Isaac in the gateway watch from a distance. It is as if Abraham, in Rembrandt’s mind, has moved on beyond equivocation and uncertainty to a place where he indeed knows where his attachment is even though he is impelled to remain with Sarah. In the larger course of the narrative, it is clear in many places that Sarah must be kept at the centre of the story. She will bear the son of promise. But Abraham’s heart is not always in the place where God’s promise will be manifest. Rembrandt has made this visible.

The story of the sacrifice of Isaac, as it has been called in some Christian circles, follows immediately after the dismissal of Hagar and Ishmael in the Book of Genesis. In Jewish circles the story has been titled the ‘akeda’, ‘The binding (of Isaac)’. The story has often been understood to present the most repugnant picture of God in Genesis, one who has apparently little regard for human love, concerned only for mechanical submission on their part. But it could also be seen to present a picture of Abraham as a cruel and unfeeling parent willing to kill his son to preserve his own piety. From time immemorial arguments over the meaning of the story have been made. But our interest here is in how Rembrandt has seen it.

The story goes like this. We are told rather baldly that God decided to test Abraham. He was told to take his son, his only son Isaac, whom he loved and go to the land of Moriah and offer him there as a burnt offering on a mountain which God would indicate. We might ask immediately how Sarah felt about all this. Later preachers speculated on that matter. We might also note that the reference to Abraham’s love for Isaac is the first time we have heard of his feelings for the boy. That verb ‘love’ at the start of the story is also the only verb of emotion in the whole narrative. All the rest is mechanical action. So, Abraham sets off next day with Isaac and two servants. He takes the wood for the sacrifice and, as we learn later, the fire. After three days he sees the place God indicates and leaving the servants at a distance sets off with Isaac for the last part of the journey. On the way Isaac innocently asks: ‘The fire and the wood are here but where is the lamb for the offering?’ Abraham ironically replies: ‘God will provide the lamb, my son.’ The two go on and when they reach the designated spot Abraham makes an altar from the wood, binds Isaac, places him on the wood and takes his knife to slay Isaac. At the last moment, a messenger from God calls to Abraham from heaven. He stops and hears this divine voice saying not to harm the boy for God now knows that Abraham fears God, i.e. worships God. Abraham takes a ram caught in the bushes nearby and sacrifices it instead of Isaac. Abraham is blessed by God and he returns to his place of encampment.

Some details in the story are puzzling. The age of Isaac is uncertain. Some nearby texts suggest Isaac is a young lad, possibly a child. Other texts hint Isaac is a youngish man, presumably able to resist his father’s actions. Thus, different interpretations of the story have Isaac either as an innocent victim or as a willing participant. Some Jewish traditions have focused on the latter and see the sacrifice as much a self-sacrifice on Isaac’s part as it is a trial on Abraham’s.

So what does Rembrandt make of it. In the first etching Abraham and Isaac, (etching and burin) from 1645, we see the conversation that takes place between Abraham and Isaac after leaving the servants. The boy stands innocently listening to his father having asked where the lamb for the sacrifice is. A serious faced Abraham leans forward giving his response. The forefinger on his left hand points upward as if to express the idea that God will provide. The irony is not missed on the story’s readers nor Rembrandt’s viewers. God is the one who told Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. The boy is the ‘lamb’. Abraham also places his right hand over his heart. In modern understanding such an action might indicate telling the truth, albeit within the context of an ironic statement. Whether it meant that in 17^th century Dutch society, I do not know. Maybe it is to be seen as an expression of Abraham’s inner turmoil and love for the boy. Nevertheless, the knife is strapped to Abraham’s waist, the fire is in a pot behind him and, again ironically, the wood pile leans against Isaac who will later lie down upon it.

A second etching by Rembrandt, Abraham’s sacrifice, (etching and drypoint), was undertaken some 10 years later in 1655. It takes us a little further in the story to the point where Abraham is in the process of slaying Isaac but is interrupted by the divine messenger. First, we will have a look at a painting of the subject by Rembrandt completed in 1635. We should notice a couple of things about this work. First, Isaac is bound and already laying on the makeshift altar. Abraham grips his son’s face firmly exposing his throat. Isaac may even be a bit older and more grown than in the earlier NGV print. His pose could indicate little resistance. The messenger grabs Abraham’s right hand with sufficient force to cause him to drop the knife. The look on Abraham’s face is one of surprise, startled by the sudden intervention. There seems to be a ram stuck in the bushes in the background just above where Isaac’s knees are located.

We can compare this work with the later etching of 1655. In that we see Isaac kneeling beside his father, unbound and with his head and upper torso close to Abraham’s lap. Abraham covers his son’s face as he prepares to kill the boy. Isaac appears younger than in the earlier painting. The intervention of the divine messenger is quite different in the 1655 print. The messenger embraces the elderly man whose face on this representation is filled more with grief than surprise. The messenger has both arms wrapped around Abraham restraining both the knife hand, this time Abraham’s left, and the one with which he shields Isaac’s face. There is no sign of the ram as far as I can see. To the right of the scene we do see the pot of fire, the donkey and, in the distance, two servants. The whole scene is much more intimate than the 1635 painting. That earlier scene of straightforward sacrificial action in which each of the figures has minimal hand contact with another is replaced by one in which the grievous act about to happen is set in the context of compassion, grief and much more intimate contact. Rembrandt has moved beyond the simple illustration of a literary scene devoid of words of emotion to reveal the turmoil within the father caught between love for a son and obedience to the divine will. There is also in the messenger the hint of compassion for the one who has shown himself willing to sacrifice the hope he has held all his life.

In conclusion, Rembrandt’s early paintings of biblical themes have been seen as illustrations. Of course, even ‘illustrations’ are interpretations, but what we have glimpsed is that earlier works focused more on the action in biblical scenes. As time went on, and especially after his move to Amsterdam, there is a greater sense of Rembrandt’s entry into an imagined biblical world. Not imagined in terms of a made up portrayal, but imagined in terms of a very human understanding of the characters and the action described. His biblical works are now more than just illustrations. They actively interpret in human terms what lies beyond the action. They are more overtly an interpretation of the text.

Kenneth Clark summarises his view of Rembrandt and his biblical interpretation in the following way: “In the end the Bible he illustrated was his Bible, that part of Holy Writ which supported his own convictions, those episodes that illustrated his own feelings about human life and … the Divine intervention on which it depended.”

If Rembrandt diverted from the text he did so ‘to create a feel of reality in the action, the moment, the event he was depicting.’ His treatment of biblical subjects shows an enormous amount of detail gleaned from the text. This is combined with his own interpretation of that detail – interpretation that focuses on emotions, motives and consequences etc. His works are works of imagination but imagination informed by and faithful to a close reading of the text of the Bible. As one writer says, he allowed the Bible to speak to him before he started speaking of the Bible. And this even to the point of including his own self portrait in many of his Biblical scenes. John Durham, a biblical theologian with a longstanding interest in Rembrandt, remarks that: “The Bible appears to have been the first book of his life – not only as the first book he experienced, but also as the book of first importance to him.”

Thank you, Howard, for adding another fascinating dimension to Rembrandt’s artistry.