Holy Blood, Holy Grail

by Baigent, Michael

  In addition to its other extraordinary attributes the Grail, in Wolfram’s poem, would almost seem to possess a certain sentience. It has the capacity to call individuals into its service—to call them, that is, in an active sense:

  Hear now how those called to the Grail are made known. On the stone, around the edge, appear letters inscribed, giving the name and lineage of each one, maid or boy, who is to take this blessed journey. No one needs to rub out the inscription, for once he has read the name, it fades away before his eyes. All those now grown to maturity came there as children. Blessed is the mother who bore a child destined to do service there. Poor and rich alike rejoice if their child is summoned to join the company. They are brought there from many lands. From sinful shame they are more protected than others, and receive good reward in heaven. When life dies for them here, they are given perfection there.22

  If the Grail’s guardians are Templars, its actual custodians would appear to be members of a specific family. This family seems to possess numerous collateral branches, some of which—their identity often unknown even to themselves—are scattered about the world. But other members of the family inhabit the Grail castle of Munsalvaesche—fairly obviously linked with the legendary Cathar castle of Montsalvat, which at least one writer has identified as Montségur.23 Within Munsalvaesche dwell a number of enigmatic figures. There is the Grail’s actual keeper and bearer, Repanse de Schoye ("Réponse de Choix" or "Chosen Response"). And there is, of course, Anfortas, the Fisher King and lord of the Grail castle, who is wounded in the genitals and unable to procreate or, alternatively, to die. As in Chrétien’s Grail romance, Anfortas, for Wolfram, is Parzival’s uncle. And when at the end of the poem the curse is lifted and Anfortas can at last die, Parzival becomes heir to the Grail castle.

  The Grail or the Grail family calls certain individuals into its service from the outside world—individuals who must be initiated into some sort of mystery. At the same time it sends its trained servitors out into the world to perform actions on its behalf—and sometimes to occupy a throne. For the Grail, apparently, possesses the power to create kings.

  Maidens are appointed to care for the Grail... That was God’s decree, and these maidens performed their service before it. The Grail selects only noble company. Knights, devout and good, are chosen to guard it. The coming of the high stars brings this people great sorrow, young and old alike. God’s anger at them has lasted all too long. When shall they ever say yes to joy? ... I will tell you something more, whose truth you may well believe. A twofold chance is often theirs; they both give and receive profit. They receive young children there, of noble lineage and beautiful. And if anywhere a land loses its lord, if the people there acknowledge the Hand of God, and seek a new lord, they are granted one from the company of the Grail. They must treat him with courtesy, for the blessing of God protects him. 24

  From the above passage it would seem that at some point in the past the Grail family somehow incurred God’s wrath. The allusion to "God’s anger at them" echoes numerous medieval statements about the Jews. It also echoes the title of a mysterious book associated with Nicolas Flamel—The Sacred Book of Abraham the Jew, Prince, Priest, Levite, Astrologer and Philosopher to that Tribe of Jews who by the Wrath of God were Dispersed amongst the Gauls. And Flegetanis, who Wolfram says wrote the original account of the Grail, is said to be descended from Solomon. Could the Grail family possibly be of Judaic origin?

  Whatever the curse formerly visited upon the Grail family, it has unquestionably come, by Parzival’s time, to enjoy divine favor—and a great deal of power as well. And yet it is rigorously enjoined, at least in certain respects, to secrecy about its identity. Women of the Grail family, then, when they intermarry with the outside world, may disclose their pedigree and identity. The men, however, must keep this information scrupulously concealed—so much so, in fact, that they may not even allow questions about their origins. The point, apparently, is a crucial one, for Wolfram returns to it most emphatically at the very end of the poem: From this, of course, derives the dilemma of Lohengrin, Parzival’s son, who when queried on his origin must abandon his wife and children and retire into the seclusion whence he came. But why should such stringent secrecy be required? What "skeleton in the closet," so to speak, might conceivably dictate it? If the Grail family were, in fact, of Judaic origin, that—for the age in which Wolfram was writing—might constitute a possible explanation. And such an explanation gains at least some credence from the Lohengrin story. For there are many variants of the the Lohengrin story, and Lohengrin is not always identified by the same name. In some versions, he is called Helyas—implying the sun. In other versions he is called Elie or Eli27—an unmistakably Judaic name.

  The men [of the Grail family] God sends forth secretly; the maidens leave openly... Thus the maids are sent out openly from the Grail, and the men in secret, that they may have children who will in turn one day enter the service of the Grail, and, serving, enhance its company. God can teach them how to do this.25

  Upon the Grail it was now found written that any templar whom God’s hand appointed master over foreign people should forbid the asking of his name or race, and that he should help them to their rights. If the question is asked of him they shall have his help no longer.26

  In Robert de Boron’s romance and in the Perlesvaus, Perceval is of Judaic lineage—the "holy lineage" of Joseph of Arimathea. In Wolfram’s poem this status, so far as Parzival is concerned, would seem to be incidental. True, Parzival is the nephew of the wounded Fisher King and thus related by blood to the Grail family. And though he does not marry into the Grail family—he is, in fact, already married—he still inherits the Grail castle and becomes its new lord. But for Wolfram the protagonist’s pedigree would seem to be less important than the means whereby he proves himself worthy of it. He must, in short, conform to certain criteria dictated by the blood he carries in his veins. And this emphasis would clearly seem to indicate the importance Wolfram ascribes to that blood.

  There is no question that Wolfram does ascribe immense significance to a particular bloodline. If there is a single dominant theme pervading not only Parzival but his other works as well, it is not so much the Grail as the Grail family. Indeed, the Grail family seems to dominate Wolfram’s mind to an almost obsessive degree, and he devotes far more attention to them and their genealogy than to the mysterious object of which they are custodians.

  The genealogy of the Grail family can be reconstructed from a close reading of Parzival. Parzival himself is a nephew of Anfortas, the maimed Fisher King and lord of the Grail castle. Anfortas, in turn, is the son of one Frimutel, and Frimutel is the son of Titurel. At this point the lineage becomes more entangled. Eventually, however, it leads back to a certain Laziliez—which may be a derivation of Lazarus, the brother, in the New Testament, of the Magdalen. And Laziliez’s parents, the original progenitors of the Grail family, are named Mazadan and Terdelaschoye. The latter is obviously a Germanic version of a French phrase "Terre de la Choix"—"Chosen Land." Mazadan is rather more obscure. It might conceivably derive from the Zoroastrian Ahura Mazda, the dualist principle of light. At the same time it also, if only phonetically perhaps, suggests Masada—a major bastion during the Judaic revolt against Roman occupation in A.D. 68.

  The names Wolfram ascribes to members of the Grail family are thus often provocative and suggestive. At the same time, however, they told us nothing that was historically useful. If we hoped to find an actual historical prototype for the Grail family, we would have to look elsewhere. The clues were meager enough. We knew, for example, that the Grail family supposedly culminated in Godfroi de Bouillon, but that did not cast much light on Godfroi’s mythical antecedents—except, of course, that (like his real antecedents) they kept their identity scrupulously secret. But according to Wolfram, Kyot found an account of the Grail story in the annals of the house of Anjou, and Parzival himself is said to be of Angevin blood. At the least this was extremely interesting, for the
house of Anjou was closely associated with both the Templars and the Holy Land. Indeed Fulques, count of Anjou, himself became, so to speak, an "honorary" or "part-time" Templar. In 1131, moreover, he married Godfroi de Bouillon’s niece, the legendary Melusine, and became king of Jerusalem. According to the "Prieuré documents" the lords of Anjou—the Plantagenet family—were thus allied to the Merovingian bloodline. And the name of Plantagenet may even have been intended to echo ’Plant-Ard’ or Plantard.

  Such connections were patchy and tenuous. But additional clues were provided for us by the geographical setting of Wolfram’s poem. For the most part this setting is France. In contrast to later Grail chroniclers Wolfram even maintains that Arthur’s court, Camelot, is situated in France—quite specifically at Nantes. Nantes, now in Brittany, was the westernmost boundary of the old Merovingian realm at the apex of its power.28

  In a manuscript of Chrétien’s version of the Grail story, Perceval declares he was born in "Scaudone" or "Sinadon" or some such place that appears in a number of orthographic variants—and the region is described as mountainous. According to Wolfram Parzival comes from "Waleis." Most scholars have taken Waleis to be Wales and Sinadon, in its various spellings, as Snowdon or Snowdonia. If this is so, however, certain insurmountable problems arise, and as one modern commentator remarks, "maps fail us." For characters move constantly between Waleis and Arthur’s court at Nantes, as well as other French locations, without crossing any water! They move overland, in short, and through regions whose inhabitants speak French. Was Wolfram’s geography simply sloppy? Can it possibly have been that careless? Or might Waleis not be Wales after all? Two scholars have suggested that it might be Valois, the region of France to the northeast of Paris—but there are no mountains in Valois, nor does the rest of the landscape conform in any way to Wolfram’s description. At the same time, however, there is another possible location for Waleis—a location that is mountainous, that does conform precisely to Wolfram’s other topographical descriptions, and whose inhabitants do speak French. This location is the Valais in Switzerland, on the shores of Lake Leman to the east of Geneva. It would seem, in short, that Parzival’s homeland is neither Wales nor Valois, but Valais. And his actual birthplace of Sinadon would not be Snowdon or Snowdonia, but Sidonensis, the capital of the Valais. And the modern name of Sidonensis, capital of the Valais, is Sion.

  According to Wolfram, then, Arthur’s court is in Brittany. Parzival would seem to have been born in Switzerland. And the Grail family itself? The Grail castle? Wolfram provides an answer in his most ambitious work, left unfinished at his death and entitled Der Junge Titurel. In this evocative fragment Wolfram addresses himself to the life of Titurel, father of Anfortas and the original builder of the Grail castle. Der Junge Titurel is very specific not only about genealogical detail, but also about the dimensions, the components, the materials, the configuration of the Grail castle—its circular chapel, for example, like those of the Templars. And the castle itself is situated in the Pyrenees.

  In addition to Der Junge Titurel Wolfram left another work unfinished at his death—the poem known as Willehalm, whose protagonist is Guillem de Gellone, Merovingian ruler of the ninth-century principality straddling the Pyrenees. Guillem is said to be associated with the Grail family. 29 He would thus seem to be the only figure in Wolfram’s works whose historical identity can actually be determined. Yet even in his treatment of the unidentifiable fig- ures, Wolfram’s meticulous precision is astonishing. The more one studies him, the more likely it seems that he is referring to an actual group of people—not a mythic or fictionalized family, but one that did exist historically and may well have included Guillem de Gellone. This conclusion becomes all the more plausible when Wolfram admits he is hiding something—that Parzival and his other works are not merely romances, but also initiation documents, depositories of secrets.

  THE GRAIL AND CABALISM

  As the Perlesvaus suggests, the Grail, at least in part, would seem to be an experience of some kind. In his excursus on the Grail’s curative properties and its power to ensure longevity, Wolfram would also seem to be implying something experiential as well as symbolic—a state of mind or a state of being. There seems little question that on one level the Grail is an initiatory experience that in modern terminology would be described as a "transformation" or "altered state of consciousness." Alternatively it might be described as a "Gnostic experience," a "mystical experience," " illumination," or "union with God." It is possible to be even more precise and place the experiential aspect of the Grail in a very specific context. That context is the Cabala and Cabalistic thought. Certainly such thought was much "in the air" at the time the Grail romances were composed. There was a famous Cabalistic school at Toledo, for instance, where Kyot is said to have learned of the Grail. There were other schools at Gerona, Montpellier and elsewhere in the south of France. And it would hardly seem coincidental that there was also such a school at Troyes. It dated from 1070—Godfroi de Bouillon’s time—and was conducted by one Rashi, perhaps the most famous of medieval Cabalists.

  It is impossible here, of course, to do justice to the Cabala or Cabalistic thought. Nevertheless, certain points must be made in order to establish the connection between Cabalism and the Grail romances. Very briefly then, Cabalism might be described as esoteric Judaism—a practical psychological methodology of uniquely Judaic origin designed to induce a dramatic transformation of consciousness. In this respect it may be viewed as a Judaic equivalent of similar methodologies or disciplines in Hindu, Buddhist, and Taoist tradition—certain forms of yoga, for example, or of Zen.

  Like its Eastern equivalents Cabalistic training entails a series of rituals—a structured sequence of successive initiatory experiences leading the practitioner to ever more radical modifications of consciousness and cognition. And though the meaning and significance of such modifications is subject to interpretation, their reality as psychological phenomena is beyond dispute. Of the "stages" of Cabalistic initiation, one of the most important is the stage known as Tiferet. In the Tiferet experience the individual is said to pass beyond the world of form into the formless—or, in contemporary terms, to "transcend his ego." Symbolically speaking this consists of a kind of sacrificial "death"—the "death" of the ego, of one’s sense of individuality and the isolation such individuality entails— and, of course, a rebirth, or resurrection, into another dimension of all-encompassing unity and harmony. In Christian adaptations of Cabalism Tiferet was therefore associated with Jesus.

  For medieval Cabalists the initiation into Tiferet was associated with certain specific symbols. These included a hermit or guide or wise old man, a majestic king, a child, a sacrificed god.30 In time other symbols were added as well—a truncated pyramid, for example, a cube and a rose cross. The relation of these symbols to the Grail romances is sufficiently apparent. In every Grail narrative there is a wise old hermit—Perceval’s or Parzival’s uncle frequently— who acts as a spiritual guide. In Wolfram’s poem the Grail as "stone" may possibly correspond to the cube. And in the Perlesvaus the various manifestations of the Grail correspond almost precisely to the symbols of Tiferet. Indeed, the Perlesvaus in itself establishes a crucial link between the Tiferet experience and the Grail.31

  THE PLAY ON WORDS

  We could thus identify the experiential aspect of the Grail and connect it quite precisely with Cabalism. This imparted another seemingly incongruous Judaic element to the Grail’s supposedly Christian character. But whatever the Grail’s experiential aspects, there were other aspects as well—aspects we could not ignore and which were of paramount importance to our story. These aspects were historical and genealogical.

  Again and again the Grail romances had confronted us with a pattern of a distinctly mundane and unmystical nature. Again and again there was a callow knight who, by dint of certain tests that proved him "worthy," was initiated into some monumental secret. Again and again this secret was closely guarded by an order of some sort, apparently
chivalric in composition. Again and again the secret was in some way associated with a specific family. Again and again the protagonist—by intermarriage with this family, by his own lineage, or by both—became lord of the Grail and everything connected with it. On this level, at least, we seemed to be dealing with something of a concrete historical character. One can become lord of a castle or a group of people. One can become heir to certain lands or even a certain heritage. But one cannot become lord or heir to an experience.

  Was it relevant, we wondered, that the Grail romances, when subjected to close scrutiny, rested so crucially on matters of lineage and genealogy, pedigree, heritage, and inheritance? Was it relevant that the lineage and genealogy in question should overlap at certain key points those which had figured so saliently in our inquiry—the house of Anjou, for instance, Guillem de Gellone, and Godfroi de Bouillon? Could the mystery attached to Rennes-le-Château and the Prieuré de Sion relate in some as yet obscure way to that mysterious object called the Holy Grail? Had we, in fact, been following in Parzival’s footsteps and conducting our own modern Grail quest?

  The evidence suggested that this was a very real possibility. And indeed there was one more crucial piece of evidence that tilted the balance decisively in favor of such a conclusion. In many of the earlier manuscripts the Grail is called the Sangraal; and even in the later version by Malory it is called the Sangreal. It is likely that some such form—Sangraal or Sangreal—was in fact the original one. It is also likely that that one word was subsequently broken in the wrong place. In other words, "Sangraal" or "Sangreal" may not have been intended to divide into "San Graal" or "San Greal"— but into "Sang Raal" or "Sang Réal." Or, to employ the modern spelling, Sang Royal. Royal blood.