Francois Rabelais 1494-1553 was a doctor, monk, and ‘a master of comment by parody’.  He frequently satirised and ridiculed the institutions of the church, law, politics and medicine. No theory of healing in his day, such as allopathy, naturopathy, magnetism or divine oracular intervention, is spared his wit:  

“My mind is set in an utter whirl when I think of Pythagoras’s amazing discovery. For by the odd or even number of syllables in any proper name, he could tell on which side a man was lame, blind, gouty, paralytic, pleuritic, or otherwise defective by nature. That is to say he associated an even number with the left side of the body, an odd number with the right.” 

“…And do not be so incredulous in future when you read about the experiments that Plutarch tells us he performed. If you see a flock of goats, for instance, running away at top speed, put a bit of sea-holly in the mouth of the hindmost, and they will all stop immediately”   …and…

“For does not the herb called Ethiopis open all locks that it is brought near? Does not the Echenisis, a very feeble fish, stop the mightiest ships afloat in spite of all the winds, and hold them back even when a hurricane is blowing? Furthermore, does not the flesh of this fish, preserved in salt, draw gold out of the deepest wells ever sounded?

Is there not also, according to Democritus’s writing and Theophrastus’s belief and experiment, a herb at the mere touch of which an iron wedge, deeply and most violently driven into a great hard log, suddenly flies out?” 

This relentless assault on the foolishness of his society endangered his life: perhaps the most astonishing thing about Rabelais is that he was popular during the Spanish inquisition. He took very great risks indeed publishing material like this: 

“That reminded me of the Abbott of Chastelliers, who never deigned to roger his chambermaids except in full canonicals. In his old age he was pestered by his relations and friends to resign his Abbey. But he swore and protested that he, the Reverend Father, would not take off his clothes until he went to bed, and that the last fart he would blow would be an Abbott’s fart.” 

Little is known of Rabelais’ life until 1520 when he entered a Franciscan order. He was born about 1494 in Chinon, a still-intact and beautiful mediaeval town to the south of Paris, and his parents probably put him into a Benedictine monastery at first. He also spent time at the University of Angers, and finally became personal physician to du Bellay, the Bishop on Paris. Du Bellay protected him from charges of obscenity when his scurrilous books far outsold the Bible; but when at the Sorbonne the Faculty of Theology banned learning in Greek because it was generating heresy, Rabelais left and (after a brief return to the Benedictines) went on to Montpellier in the south of France, to the world’s first university medical school. He took his Bachelor of Medicine degree in 3 months in 1530. We know he was already reading Galen (in Greek) and other great classical medical writers, so it is surmised he was already skilled as a doctor.

After more outrageous stories about Gangantua, Pantagruel, and Panurge, he was forced into hiding from the inquisition, and was sheltered by the now Cardinal du Bellay in Paris and Germany. The accession of Henry II, who hated the power of the papacy in France, in 1547 gave him the space to write his fourth book. This period was short lived, and his book, ‘stuffed with heresies’, was condemned by the Catholics and Calvin alike: a sure sign he was on to something too close to the truth! It is thought Rabelais might have died in prison. 

Here is an excerpt from Johnson (vide infra) to give you an idea of Rabelais’ bravery: 

“But Spaniards of Jewish descent were duly identified by the Inquisition as Protestants, and burned, and these convictions were taken as proof of an unfounded assumption. By 1556 we find Philip II in writing: ‘All the heresies which have occurred in Germany and France have been sown by descendants of the Jews, as we have seen and still see daily in Spain’. Protestantism was thus fitted into the hate-structure of the country, and doctrinal orthodoxy was reinforced by racism. The campaign was directed against foreigners as well as Spanish Jews and intellectuals; in fact after the mass-burning of Protestants in 1559-62, conducted at grandiose ceremonies in front of the king and other members of the royal family, most of the Protestants executed were foreigners, who were assumed to be actively plotting to subvert the state. Many of these were seamen and merchants, chiefly from France, England and the Low Countries: commercial rivalry was thus reinforced by doctrinal hatred, and sea-warfare took on a new ferocity.” 

At this time also Galileo provided the easily observable proof of the motions of the ‘Medicean’ moons (now the inner four Galilean moons) of Jupiter that validated Copernicus’ assertion that the sun rotated around the moon. He did this at considerable risk to himself, ten years after Giordano Bruno was burned at the stake in Rome for providing a similar proof. This was one of the great turning points in the intellectual history of Europe, and the famous German doctor and playwright Bertholt Brecht, in ‘The Life of Galileo’, has his protagonist say: 

(Scene 14) … ‘Had I stood firm the scientists could have developed something like the Hippocratic Oath, a vow to use their knowledge exclusively for mankind’s benefit. As things are, the best that can be hoped for is a race of inventive dwarfs who can be hired for any purpose.’ 

Rabelais would no doubt have concurred, and his satire on inquisitory justice is thin and sharp. Asides like this one: ‘…much as they used once to whip little children in our country on the hanging of some criminal, in order that they should never forget the occasion.’ provide us with a glimpse of the (religiously rationalised) cruelty of the middle ages; and reveal the growing humanism of the Renaissance as distinct from a corrupt and vicious Catholic Church.

Rabelais’ incredible imagination provides us with many belly laughs. He loves to satirise science and its study as much as religion:

‘For as you know, wind in its essential definition is nothing more than air in movement and undulation’ 

and 

‘A not so newly fledged graduate called to his young inspiration: ‘Hullo, hullo, it’s a long time since I saw you, dear bag.’ ‘I’m always glad to see you, my jolly pipe,’ she answered. ‘Couple them together’ said Panurge, ‘and blow up their arses. Then you’ll have a bagpipe.’ 

In the American Indian readings we found the heyoka: the clown-medicine man. Laughter is the best medicine they say, and by that account Rabelais must be one of the greatest doctors who ever lived. Two modern Australian examples of this phenomenon are the novelist Nick Earles, and the TV comic Rob Sitch. 

The middle ages are notorious for cruelty, blind monarchy, and arbitrary justice. Yet there was also Rabelais. Let him have the last word: 

“I leave you the making of my epitaph. For I shall die pickled in farts; and if someday the ordinary medicaments fail to restore her blowing power to some good woman in the last agony of a windy colic, the mummy-oil from my wretched befarted body will serve the physicians as a quick remedy. After the smallest dose imaginable, they’ll fart more than they expect.’ 

To think about? What do you think about the clown doctor? Does someone like Patch Adams really have any effect on human misery?

                        Who was the Theophrastus (Theophrastus Bombast von Hohenheim) Rabelais mentions? What was the importance of his school? 

 A note on reading Rabelais: Rabelais’ text comprises a mix of stories, anecdotes, poems, lists, fragments and asides, learned dissertations and made up words (neologisms). Sometimes he simply makes a long list of verbs, nouns, or adjectives, as if he wanted to use every word known in his books, but ran out of time. When considering his style it is to be recalled that the novel as an art form had not yet been developed. 

The extent of learning of this man will soon become apparent if you take on Gargantua and Pantagruel. JM Cohen, one of the great classicist editor/translators of the 20th century, has this reminder: 

‘Most of the quotations are only there to tease, and nothing would amuse the spirit of Rabelais, in whatever limbo he may be, more heartily than the sight of a literal-minded reader hunting up and speculating on his every allusion to his curious learning.’

References and Further reading 

Cohen J M (ed., trans.,) (1955) Francois Rabelais  Gargantua and Pantagruel  Penguin Classics

Johnson P (1976/1987) A History of Christianity  Pelican/Penguin p307 

Bertholt Brecht  (play)  The Life of Galileo 

Nick Earles has several novels in Penguin, for example ‘Bachelor Kisses’, ‘48 Shades of Brown’, and ‘Headgames’.