Food and the Body
Hannah Epstein
Not only was food viewed as nourishment in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, it was also viewed as a way of controlling the bodily humors. The four humors and their associated temperaments, black bile (melancholic), yellow bile (choleric), blood (sanguine), and phlegm (phlegmatic) were reputed to be influenced by what a person ate and drank, and were the seat of illness and health (Hastings 649). A very prolific writer of the time, Andrew Boorde, suggests in his 1542 book Introduction and Dyetary, that “‘…sanguine men must not eat fruits, flesh, herbs, roots, old flesh, or brains of beestes’”(cited in Morse 93), along with other helpful suggestions. The Early Moderns had many ideas about how the food we eat affects our bodies. Sally Templeman writes, in an article about the body and inn-yard performance, “Humoral medicine proscribed a rigid framework of consumption” (83). This included, though was by no means limited to, what to eat at what times of day, how often to eat, and how long to wait between meals.
Joshua Fisher points out in “Digesting Falstaff,” that the character’s “excessive gluttony is emphasized from the start”(10). In his gluttony, Falstaff blatantly ignores conventional wisdom about health. In Hal’s first lines to Falstaff in Henry IV Part 1, he says, “What a devil hast thou to do with / the time of day? Unless hours were cups of / sack and minutes capons…I see no reason why thou / shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time / of day” (I.ii.6-8, 11-12). In these lines, the reader sees two things. First, that Hal believes that Falstaff cares for nothing but food and wine. Second, that Hal understands the conventional wisdom linking food to the time of day. Even Bardolph, one of the lower class characters, understands that Falstaff’s gluttony is out of line with convention. He says to Falstaff, “Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must / needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable / compass, Sir John”(III.iii.22-24). To be out of compass can be interpreted as to be out of control. Here, the reader sees Falstaff’s out of control behavior as inextricably linked with his gluttony.
“Early modern cookery demonstrates how food preparation and consumption link the designations ‘human’ and ‘eater’ to ‘non-human’ and ‘eaten’”(Zysk 70). One of the most despised tasks that cemented this separation was the handling of raw flesh. Lee states, “…the raw flesh has the potential to defile and destroy the orderly world around it” (255). Interesting, then, that Falstaff should so often be referred to as “flesh.” In King Henry IV Part 1, Hal refers to Falstaff specifically as, “…this huge hill of flesh” (II.iv.253). Does this imply, then, that Falstaff has the same destructive potential as raw animal flesh? Indeed, he certainly disrupts order, and some characters see his association with Hal as defilement of the Prince’s character.
The food that Falstaff is most often compared to is meat. Knowing that the early moderns believed that meat was easily spoiled, one can make the assumption that Falstaff is subject to the same easy degradation. Indeed, one could make the argument that Falstaff is meat that, by the end of King Henry IV Part 2, Prince Hal has found to be spoiled, and therefore tosses away.
The Early Modern English also deeply feared poison. This fear appears in Act Five, Scene Five, line 99 of Shakespeare’s King Richard II, when Richard refuses eat the food offered to him unless his keeper tastes it first. Boorde also comments, “God may sende a man good meate, but the devyll may sende an evyll cooke to dystrue it” (cited in Lee 258). In an interesting twist, because of a lack of understanding of safe food preparation practices, although people were likely poisoned by intent, but may have been equally likely to be poisoned by food that had been contaminated by the food handling practices of the day.
Joshua Fisher points out in “Digesting Falstaff,” that the character’s “excessive gluttony is emphasized from the start”(10). In his gluttony, Falstaff blatantly ignores conventional wisdom about health. In Hal’s first lines to Falstaff in Henry IV Part 1, he says, “What a devil hast thou to do with / the time of day? Unless hours were cups of / sack and minutes capons…I see no reason why thou / shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time / of day” (I.ii.6-8, 11-12). In these lines, the reader sees two things. First, that Hal believes that Falstaff cares for nothing but food and wine. Second, that Hal understands the conventional wisdom linking food to the time of day. Even Bardolph, one of the lower class characters, understands that Falstaff’s gluttony is out of line with convention. He says to Falstaff, “Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must / needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable / compass, Sir John”(III.iii.22-24). To be out of compass can be interpreted as to be out of control. Here, the reader sees Falstaff’s out of control behavior as inextricably linked with his gluttony.
“Early modern cookery demonstrates how food preparation and consumption link the designations ‘human’ and ‘eater’ to ‘non-human’ and ‘eaten’”(Zysk 70). One of the most despised tasks that cemented this separation was the handling of raw flesh. Lee states, “…the raw flesh has the potential to defile and destroy the orderly world around it” (255). Interesting, then, that Falstaff should so often be referred to as “flesh.” In King Henry IV Part 1, Hal refers to Falstaff specifically as, “…this huge hill of flesh” (II.iv.253). Does this imply, then, that Falstaff has the same destructive potential as raw animal flesh? Indeed, he certainly disrupts order, and some characters see his association with Hal as defilement of the Prince’s character.
The food that Falstaff is most often compared to is meat. Knowing that the early moderns believed that meat was easily spoiled, one can make the assumption that Falstaff is subject to the same easy degradation. Indeed, one could make the argument that Falstaff is meat that, by the end of King Henry IV Part 2, Prince Hal has found to be spoiled, and therefore tosses away.
The Early Modern English also deeply feared poison. This fear appears in Act Five, Scene Five, line 99 of Shakespeare’s King Richard II, when Richard refuses eat the food offered to him unless his keeper tastes it first. Boorde also comments, “God may sende a man good meate, but the devyll may sende an evyll cooke to dystrue it” (cited in Lee 258). In an interesting twist, because of a lack of understanding of safe food preparation practices, although people were likely poisoned by intent, but may have been equally likely to be poisoned by food that had been contaminated by the food handling practices of the day.