Santiago, Not the Moor-Slayer

So, as legend goes, Santiago o Maior, whom I think is called Saint James the Elder in English, was beheaded in his homeland. That was very far away, beyond the Mediterranean for sure. He was then put in a stone boat that either floated on its own or was steered by someone, across many miles. It's not. exactly clear how a stone boat could even float, let alone whether it could make it up to Padrón on the western shore of the province of Coruña.

If you think this is a made-up story, tell that to the Church, which insists Saint James made the long trek after his death. Some versions of the legend say James, or Santiago (which I prefer to call him), got out of the boat and sat on some rocks by the shore. That's while the town is now called Padrón, which some say means "big rock." To the believers, none of this is invented and all of it is true.

Anyway, at some point, Santiago had to die and be buried. He was supposed to be important, but in the new land he obviously wasn’t wasn't well-known. He did have a burial, however, and some sources insist the place of interment was somewhere a few miles from Padrón. It seems he was buried with other bodies, but since none of the burials included a headstone, it was pretty difficult to know whose remains were in the site that a hermit discovered around the eighth century. Again, we're not going to challenge the Church's affirmation that Santiago had been found, because we realize DNA testing was not available then.

So far we've stuck close to the beliefs as to what occurred when Santiago first came to Galician shores. We might add that the little boat of floating stone was said to be covered with conch shells, those lovely scallops with the delicious flesh that the Franch call coquilles Saint-Jacques and Galicians call vieiras. The people from Madrid can't call them anything, because Spanish doesn't have a word for the mollusk. The point here is to say that legend associates the shell of the vieira with the coming of Santiago - probably hitched a ride on his little boat - and once Santiago de Compostela became a major pilgrimage site, all the faithful pilgrims made it into their fetish. I prefer to eat the scallop rather than wear it on my hat or tied to a backpack.

After Santiago was safely esconced as a major saint in the Iberian Peninsula, he was appropriated for all battles, and his first assignment was against the Moors - infidels, of course, because they brought Islam to the (legitimately, according to 102 % of available sources) Catholic peninsula. Because the saint was so powerful, the invaders were pushed out and the Catholic Kings could breathe a sigh of relief.

Or not. If you want to know, that was because that same year, 1492, the Moor-Slayer, which was his sobriquet, was enlisted to help conquer the New World. He did a good job there as well, albeit a slower one, because the Americas covered a vast territory. Mostly he was an Indigenous- Resident-Slayer, helping set up the Spanish Empire across the Atlantic and even across the Pacific, in a few spots. Still, back home the man who emerged from the sea, whether dead or alive, is pictured on his white horse with massacred Moors at his feet and a sword raised high. (If you want to see this statue, go to the Catedral and look to the left as you're facing the altar. It's the side where when you go out you run smack into San Martiño de Pinario - read another story to get caught up - which is also worth visiting.

The thing is, good Saint James could have had a different goal in mind when he came forth from his voyage (I think he started off in the Holy Land, which includes Jerusalem, right?) and ended up in a silver casket in the cathedral. What follows is that story, which you will find to be quite different than the official one. It is also much better.

The good Santiago didn’t get himself buried in a common grave. He found a spot on Pico Sacro with a nice view of Santiago and a fertility of legends that he knew would entertain him for quite a few years. He went overland this time, so his boat was not necessary. Unfortunately, he ran smack into the Raíña Lupa, who let him bed down near the pointy hill. What an unfair way to treat a traveler from far away. Santiago woke up from his tomb and his body, not in the least corrupt from years in the earth, was forced to begin its trek over many kilometers to the city that bore his name.

We’ll leave out the mangled belief that Santiago de Compostela comes from composita or something similar, meaning a heap of compost, which is what a grave becomes, when you think of it. Most of the faithful take it to mean ‘field of stars’, and associate him with the field of stars, the Milky Way. Santiago wasn’t having any of that made-up stuff, plus he heard that he was being called the Moor Slayer, and rebelled strongly. He was a quite peaceful soul. He wouldn’t kill a fly, let alone a Moor. When he discovered there was a great web of routes across Europe from other countries, he knew it was necessary to do something to save his reputation. 

And so he did.

He chose one of the starting points, which might have been near Canterbury. I can’t recall the exact spot, but if it wasn’t the itinerary from there, it could have been from Germany, going through Toulouse. Even Portugal was possible. He didn’t bother to write it down, so the maps we have are based on suppositions. What is important is that he walked and walked, through villages and a city or two. He was very determined to get back his good name.

The Way, Saint James’ way, was long and arduous, but it was necessary. He didn’t want to kill any Moors on the way, so he didn’t. However, he did do some reformation of his achievements. He held workshops all along the route - fortunately he was multilingual - and that got him a good image. He showed people things like: quilt-making, artist’s books, carving lithographs or making lovely mono-prints. Everything that he did was truly beautiful and people flocked to watch, then they begged to learn how he did the things he did.

I am sure that’s not all he did, because he never bragged about it, but he gave his works as gifts. Nobody was the slightest bit interested in battles and slaughter. No, they preferred to learn dances like the muiñeira and to play bagpipes (the Celtic ones). He taught songs, too, but no need to list them all. A lot of the songs at least were written down, so they are preserved forever and people still sing them. 

Along with the musical workshops there were countless stories, some about other pilgrims and some about Santiago. The stories were accounts of the faithfuls’ travel. Some were funny adventures, created with a good dose of retranca or Galician humor. Some were didactic, showing how the people who did not believe in the ‘saint from away’ as they would have called him if he had come from Maine, for example. Those stories warned people about what could happen if they didn’t take all his work seriously.

I would like to tell you all the stories, but there were so many and you can look them up on the internet easily enough. Just think how the humor and the instruments the Saint used were pure genious. While telling the periplum of Santiago, I forget to fill you in on the films he used as part of Santiago's repertoire. There's the film directed by the well-known Aragonese director Luis Buñuel while he was in exile after the Spanish Civil War. The film was made in 1969. It was shot in Mexico, and was definitely a great job by a fantastic director, as Santiago knew. It's quite the challange to understand all that happens in the movie, for viewers who haven't studied history, especially the history of the Church.

Our Saint was prepared, though, and knew all the details, right down to the surrealist elements. The title was Le Chemin de Saint-Jacques, from 1969, as noted already. It sure baffles a lot of people, as noted already, but if you watch it at least ten times, you can started to sort things out. Just don't expect Buñuel, who as we said was a good Aragonese, do tell the story straight. Buñuel was pretty slick. Also, he was disgusted by Franco's antics. 

A lot of people have preferred The Way, by Martin Sheen. Sheen's son directed that one in 2010, but there's such a lack of authentic culture that it infuriates me. Maybe Sheen and Son, Emilio Estevez, didn't do their homework. Can you imagine having the main pilgrim - Sheen - walking the road after his son died? He might be a decent actor and quite handsome, but his having a Galician ancestor did not guarantee accuracy. It is utterly impossible to stop along the Road in a hostel in the Basque Country, and be listening on the small terrace to Spanish flamenco music. Never going to happen, because Basques are not Spaniards.

If you don't know that, you'd best do your homework. Most people in the US don't know about Buñuel and his humor and sarcasm, his anti-Catholic attitudes. He's a huge challenge, but well worth the effort. Sheen leans heavily on the sentimentalism and the loss of a son. I wonder if he had watched other films on the theme of Santiago's Way. 

When I taught this movie in a class on travel literature and film, in Spanish, I sensed the students weren't convinced by my approach. A lot of them were believers, and seemed upset that I hadn't liked the modern version. Shirley Maclain was also in a kind of documentary about Saint James' Way. The later directors and actors weren't willing to question the story of the road. They couldn't question the Church, I guess. That's their problem, right?

Well, somehow this story has turned into a class lecture, and for that I apologize. Maybe we should pay some attention to the coquilles Saint-Jacques? I mean, it's hard to disagree on the scrumptious dish all the tourists have to try in Galicia. Don't ever order them in Madrid! Get them in one of the restaurants either Santiago or I could recommend to you. They are not cheap, but they're worth it: fresh mollusks covered with bread crumbs, white pepper, olive oil, with the little red strip on one side. Really good. That strip is part of the scallop, not a garnish.

Before your mouth starts watering too much, don't forget the symbolism of the shells and Venus. You might know her as the goddess of love, and those of us who love her will happily gorge on the conchas until we run out of money. You're still with me, right? She arose from the sea, drippy and sexily unclad. It was hard to make Venus fit into Catholic beliefs, but her lovely shells adorned the whole boat, as already noted.

I am not certain Santiago wanted to use her in his presentations along the way, because some viewers might see her as a porn queen. That was Botticelli's doing, though. Perhaps the Greeks or the Romans "Na crença de que o mar seja a origem geradora da vida, e tendo a deusa um amor tão carnal como espiritual saído de uma concha, esta passou a representar a fecundidade. A concha é então relacionada ao seio materno..." In was a common belief that the sea was the place where human life was generated, so a goddess of bodily and spiritual love was the representation of human fertility. It isn't hard to to link the sexy lady to physical desire, even though some body parts had to be covered up.

However, I really wonder if Church sources were able to accept her nudity. Humans can be pretty prudish, you know, but there are also some who enjoy the portrait from the Uffizi Gallery (that's in Florence), from 1483 to 1485. At least she covered up part of her body with her hands, some hair, and a scrap of cloth.

Well we can ignore that, because Venus was the goddess of love. If we're not careful, she'll get us into Cupid, love, and a lot of other things. The daughter of Jupiter or Venus can teach us a lot. But that's enough for now. I'm more interested in the eating part, and you should be, too. We need to get Santiago back to O Pico Sagro or Sacro, because something happened at the end of the trail. Let's see if I can remember what happened...

The conch shells became symbols of women's sexuality, but because they were scattered everywhere, pilgrims had to keep their eyes off her private parts. Santiago, who was a saint if I ever saw one, had to keep his eyes off her as well as the eyes of the believers. He had to get everyone to look, but then he at least would look away. Galicians got a big kick out of that ‘look but don’t touch mentality’, but I'm going to avoid telling the whole story, if you don't mind.

Now that Santiago, or Saint James, has completed his journey, we can return to the Christian beliefs, to his hike along all the miles or kilometers. We'll step back and focus on his role in strengthening the faith of people everywhere. Raíña Lupa might be be miffed at us, but that's irrelevant. 

I think she was just a prude, or maybe she was jealous of James. That would be just like her.

We have far more interesting things to think about and do. If you're interested, I could tell you about some more ladies from Galicia. If you have a moment, that might be worthwhile, since one source identifies a gallofo as a "false pilgrim who wants to impress people with his faith. In fact it is a lazy man who comes to exploit the Camino de Santiago." That's something we can discuss tomorrow, if you wish. It's been a long journey and it’s time for me to get some sleep.

Thanks for reading, and meanwhile, don't forget to look up at the stars. They are beautiful, don't you think? Santiago gets the credit for getting us to look there, to learn what we can from them.