Cockaigne

        The Land of Cockaigne is a mythical place in European legend.  It is a land of plenty where everyone lives in luxury and ease, but it’s not quite accurate to call it a utopia.  The thing that makes Cockaigne different compared with, say, Shangri-La or other pure paradises, is that Cockaigne is satirical, topsy-turvy, excessive, usually humorous, and always irreverent.  Its plenty is gluttony and its ease is sloth.  According to one 13th century French poem, “the houses were made of barley sugar and cakes, the streets were paved with pastry, and the shops supplied goods for nothing.”  In another 13th century song the rules of Cockaigne's priesthood include sleeping in and playing dice, and in Pieter Bruegel’s 1567 painting, a knight waits for a roasted pigeon to fly straight into his mouth.  In the story collected by the Brothers Grimm in 1812, “I saw a plough ploughing without horse or cow… sweet honey flowed like water… I saw two mice consecrating a bishop… Then a snail came running up and killed two furious lions.”

        Descriptions of Cockaigne appeared on the scene in monastic writings of the middle ages - after all, monasteries are where pretty much all writing was taking place.  In the 12th and 13th centuries a group of mostly young, university-educated clerics called Goliards were particularly known for their satirical poetry, criticizing many elements of church rule, as well as fantasizing about unlimited food, drink, and sex.  In a world that could be unrelentingly harsh for the poor in Europe, it’s not surprising that their fantasies should feature not only exaggerated luxury for humorous effect, but also criticism of the rich and powerful people who weren’t giving them much cause for affection.  However, it’s hard to know whether tales of Cockaigne were prevalent among peasants, because the only records we have are those of the literate minorities who could actually make records.

        In any case, it’s clear that Cockaigne was never believed to be a real place or even a mythical place representing philosophical, cultural or religious beliefs.  It is, quite simply, a vehicle for wish-fulfillment, humor, and satire, and I imagine the rebellious young clergy, and perhaps the peasants, too, enjoyed themselves mightily inventing ever more ridiculous flights of fancy that could be seen in Cockaigne.  Over the centuries, however, its vision of self-indulgent sloth, gluttony, and topsy-turvey social behavior morphed from a commentary on the difficulties of life to a commentary on the evils of excess.  Bruegel’s painting, for example, makes Cockaigne look rather ugly and disgusting, and a poem by Hans Sachs in 1530 says “He who’s worthless and has no will to learn, will be a big success in this realm… He who is wasteful, wild and stupid, crude and senseless at every occasion, he will be made into a prince.”  But the pure wish-fulfillment thread remains in popular culture and can be seen echoed in the American folk song “Big Rock Candy Mountain” (recorded in 1928  but written in 1895) where there are cigarette trees, rivers of booze, and bawdy sex.  This song also illustrates a final cultural adaptation of the Land of Cockaigne: its transformation from a very adult satire to an amusement for children.  Many versions of “Big Rock Candy Mountain” have been rewritten to be aimed at children.

        Like so many fantasy locations, the Land of Cockaigne tells us something about our human preoccupations.  We always use fantasy to illustrate our messages.  When life is unending hardship, we imagine a land where pastries grow on trees and we never have to work.  When we’re frustrated with society’s restrictions, we imagine a land where no one can tell us what we can’t do, and where the upper classes are made the butt of all the jokes.  When lives get a little less grueling - or perhaps when the powers that be begin to subvert the original rebellion - we imagine the cautionary tale of a land where no one does their work and everyone eats junk food all day.  And when we see ourselves as being serious, scientific types, we imagine that lands of humorous fantasy are fit only for children.  Being the Good Little Girl that I am, I would not actually enjoy the Land of Cockaigne, and I think it’s worth considering that the more instant gratification we get with our apps and our technology, the more depressed and alienated we seem to become…  But then, I don't need a Cockaigne because my life is pretty darn good right here, and I can certainly sympathize with the fantasies of the creative medieval satirists who invented and explored Cockaigne as a contrast to their own lives.

        (My A-to-Z post on Cockaigne/Luilekkerland, with maps of this fabulous country, here.)

Further reading: Fourteenth-century poem

        Tale from the Brothers Grimm

        Poem by Hans Sachs

        One version of  “The Big Rock Candy Mountain” by Harry McClintock

[Picture: Das Schlauraffenlandt, wood block print by Erhard Schön for the poem by Hans Sachs, 1530;

Luilekkerland, oil on panel by Pieter Brueghel the Elder, 1567 (Images from Wikimedia Commons);

Land of Cockaigne, woodcut by Nancy Haver (Image from Zea Mays Printmaking).]