“My task, which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word, to make you hear, to make you feel–it is, before all, to make you see.” –Joseph Conrad

Yesterday I wrote about Ida B. Wells’ intention and ability to make the world see with her words, see the disgrace, the horrors, the inhumanity on one side, but also the innocence, the courage and the determination on the other. It brought to mind, don’t ask me why, the power of another unusual woman who tried to make the world see, with new words, an entire new language in fact, focussed on the beauty and blessings of the world around us.

No clue, what propelled Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179) into my consciousness, other than perhaps a chain of associations to remarkable females, particularly those who lived in times where everything but everything was stacked against their ability to leave a mark. (Times that lasted – it took more than 800 years for the church to canonize her, in 2012, finally.)

We generally know her as a 12th century Benedictine Abbess, a mystic, a composer, a scientist, poet, writer and artist, who had visions, most likely induced by severe migraines. We might remember that she founded two monasteries, in the Rhineland, a fertile part of Germany, and flew, for the most part, under the radar of Church authorities with her unorthodox teachings, since they simply took her not seriously as a woman.

We don’ think of her as the tenth child in her family, brought into an isolated monastery as a gift to the church as an 8-year old, confined to a stone cell with a small window for most of her life, with one meager meal in winter, two in summer. Or as a crafty rebel. I remember a story in my childhood “Famous Women in History” primer that had her act more like an Enid Blyton heroine than a nun:

“A man who had been excommunicated for involvement in revolutionary activity died, and she gave permission for his burial in the abbey cemetery. With the local bishop absent, the canons of the church demanded Hildegard exhume the body from consecrated ground. She refused, claiming she knew the man’s sins had been forgiven. So the canons authorized civil authorities to dig up the body. On the evening before their arrival, Hildegard, vested in her attire as abbess, went to the grave, blessed it, and then, with the help of her nuns, removed all the cemetery markers and stones, so the plot of the excommunicated man could not be identified. The irate canons placed the abbey under interdict; Mass, sacraments and the singing of the divine office were forbidden on its premises. Still, she would not yield. Church authorities finally lifted the interdict. “

I had no clue that she invented an entire language, Lingua Ignota, that was likely intended to make the holiness in all things visible, acknowledging how a higher power shapes our existence. The Lingua Ignota can be found in the Riesen Codex (Wiesbaden, Hessische Landesbibliothek, Hs. 2, ff 461v-464v), also called the Giant or Chain Codex, a compilation of Hildegard’s theological writings that were collected near Hildegard’s death. The language consists of about 1000 words, introduced with but one sentence, who appear in the hierarchical order of her medieval world: God and angels, then humans, then animals, then plants etc. The words are entirely new, but shaped by German and Latin roots and pronunciations, though apparently having a sing-song feel, which, of course, ties into her extraordinary musical gifts.

Here is a sample:

• Aigonz – God
• Aieganz – Angel
• Inimois – Human
• Korzinthio – Prophet
• Peueriz – Father
• Maiz – Mother
• Sciniz – Stammerer
• Kaueia – Wife
• Ornalz – The hair of a woman
• Milischa – the hair of a man
• Pusinzia – Snot
• Zizia – Mustache
• Fluanz – Urine
• Fuscal – Foot
• Sancciuia – Crypt
• Abiza – House
• Amozia – Eucharist
• Pereziliuz – Emperor
• Bizioliz – Drunkard
• Haischa – Turtle Dove

Only for the curious (and those with expendable time) here is a video that explains the details – high speed talk and thought of a Jewish scholar, who draws interesting conclusions.

Here is another Jewish scholar of mysticism:

“Speech has power. Words do not fade. What starts out as a sound, ends in a deed.” –Abraham Joshua Herschel

For Hildegard von Bingen the deeds envisioned to spring from her words were perhaps acts of faith. For Ida B. Wells it was political action aimed at ending racism. Which words will WE choose today to act on?

Photographs are from Heinsberg, a small town in the Rhineland, where I went to school and which had symbols of the catholic faith distributed everywhere. (Incidentally it is also the place where one of the first serious Covid-19 outbreak in Germany occurred – during the gregarious, touchy/feely times of the annual carnival before Lent.