The Monster Hyena
“It is an easier matter to capture a male hyena, for in the females a more crafty cunning is instilled by birth.” — Gaius Julius Solinus, 3rd century CE
Her color yellowish, the blue spots bespeckling her sides
resemble eyes which make her
more terrible. Ignorant writers believed
the spots change color
but only the eyes themselves shift a thousand times a day
at the beast’s pleasure.
The eye contains a stone rumored to give prophesy
if a man lay it under his tongue.
The credulous Aelian claimed the creatures change sex
from one year to the next, as a woman may change dress,
but Aristotle disproved such folly.
A dog touching the shadow of a hyena will lose its voice.
Whosoever a hyena circles three times
will be struck stone-still and easily devoured.
It is well known that the hyena can imitate human sounds.
She summons dogs with counterfeit vomiting or whistling
and lures men from their huts by calling their names
at night in a woman’s voice as sweet as any siren’s
until they are far from help and lost in the bush
when the hyena leaps to devour them.
So great is the vanity of the old magicians
that they declare the tooth of a hyena’s upper jaw
will protect him from all darts and arrows.
If the man fasten the left foot to his arm,
he shall never forget whatsoever he hears or has ever known;
and if he wear the right foot,
whoever sees him shall fall in love with him.
The marrow of that foot when put in a woman’s nostrils
will make her love her husband.
And in their folly, they believed
religious men send their souls into lions
and with their souls, women animate the terrible hyena.
* * * * *
The Versatility of the Hedgehog
“This animal is not, as many of us imagine, entirely useless to man.” — Pliny the Elder
Wives and slaves,
examine carefully the hedgehogs
you find in the market
and do not let a merchant’s smile seduce you to damaged goods.
The skin that looks whole
may rot in your hands and lose its quills
by the time you arrive home
if the hedgehog was caught after discharging
its corrosive urine upon itself,
enduring the pain of broken flesh and the ruin of quills
in a desperate attempt to make itself valueless.
Like the beaver, the animal knows why it is hunted.
How else would our woolen cloth be dressed
but with the quills of a hedgehog?
After capture it must be hung
by one hind leg until it dies of hunger,
the body desiccated and clean, the quills strong for carding.
The hedgehog will cure many conditions
without the use of vain doctors
who strut and gather crowds on the street
as if they were actors or chariot drivers.
The flesh will treat and, some say, ward off
obstructions of the bladder; but beware:
if the animal has discharged its urine upon its body,
those who eat the flesh will suffer strangury.
Buy only from the merchants who guarantee their goods.
For its gall bladder to cure skin lesions and warts
or serve as a depilatory when mixed
with bats’ brains and goats’ milk,
the animal must be fresh-killed with one blow to the head
The dried flesh taken with food will cure dropsy
The ashes applied with oil prevent miscarriage and spasms.
Mixed with honey, they will restore hair to the body
where scarring has prevented its growth.
This humble animal lays up food for the winter
by rolling on fallen apples,
piercing one with his quills and taking another in his mouth
to his den. Whichever door he blocks up,
from that direction the next wind will come
heralding for you the change of season.
* * * * *
Notes from Sherry Rind: “Hedgehog” incorporates wording from Pliny the Elder’s Natural History translated by Harris Rackham, published in 1938, as well as the Bostock and Riley version of 1855. For the “Hyena” poem, I read Aristotle, Pliny, Aelian, and then skipped forward to Edward Topsell’s History of Four-Footed Beasts of 1658. I didn’t worry about plagiarism when using their wording because each writer lifted whole passages from previous sources, often word for word. In this way, the same stories were repeated for centuries. Aristotle in 400 BCE was the first and only natural historian to write from observation until perhaps the 18th century CE.
These are lovely and readable, with their patina of archaic language. I’m drawn by the catalogs of superstitions that evoke anxieties about power. More, please.