We know that book production flourished in pre-Conquest Mexico.
Among the types of books produced were genealogies, histories, books
used for interpreting dreams and determining suitable marriage
partners, law books, bureaucratic documents, and a wide range of
religious books. At least three formats were simultaneously in use: the
screenfold, the scroll, and the lienzo (Spanish name for a large
piece of cloth that could be folded up like a map or a bed sheet when not
in use) - and several other forms are hinted at. Unfortunately, only about
a dozen pre-Conquest books have survived from central Mexico, though
we also have a number of post-Conquest books produced more or less in
the indigenous style. Codex Vindobonensis is one of the
pre-Conquest books that has survived.
This manuscript was painted on 15 strips of deerskin, glued together
to form a single band about 44' 3" long and about 9" tall. It is folded
accordion fashion so that there are 52 pages on each side, each about 10
3/4" across. The ends are glued onto wooden boards, leaving only 50
pages open for painting on the reverse. All 52 pages of the front are
painted, while the painting breaks of in the middle of the thirteenth page
of the reverse. Chemical analysis has not been not been made of the
manuscript, but we may assume that it painted with the same materials
as other books of its type: a ground of lime gesso was first applied to the
entire surface, line was drawn using a carbon base ink, and color was
filled in afterward, using the basic pigments - mineral blue, yellow, and
red oxide, and possibly cochineal base red; other colors, used sparingly,
seem to be combinations of the basic pigments. Though we can't be sure
at this point what kind of applicators were used, two instruments that
may be a pen and a brush are shown at the middle right of page 35 (18)
in this codex. Most scholars agree that this book was produced in the
Mixtec area to the south of Mexico City.
The first side of the manuscript tells of the creation of the world and
the Mixtec people. It lists the places within the Mixtec area and defines
its lordships. It relates the struggles and interactions of the Mixtecs with
the Stonemen - possibly Teotihuacan colonizers or Toltec conquerors -
and the history of their most important plants: corn, maguey, and
hallucinogenic mushrooms. After the prologue dealing with the creation
of the world and the Mixteca, the book is divided into ten major
chapters, each centering on the New Fire Ceremony that began historic
and mythic eras, and showing related rituals in detail. The main
personage in the book is the form of the god Quetzalcoatl known as
9-Wind, after the date of his birth. This god plays a crucial role in the
creation of the world and the establishment of the Mixtec lordships, and
it is he who lights New Fire for the first time. The book tells the story of
the Mixteca in a general, mythic, almost extrahistorical sense. It is one of
the most beautiful examples of pre-Columbian bookmaking we have. It
seems to be the product of a serene and unhurried workshop, whose
artists had received long and rigorous training in both the techniques of
book manufacture and in the religion and history of their people.
The reverse side is a reverse indeed: it is one of the worst examples of
indigenous painting we have. Its creator does not seem to have been
particularly skilled but he does seem to have been working at breakneck
speed. Toward the end, he simply lists names, without accompanying
images. This side of the manuscript records the lineage of the House of
Tilontongo from A.D. 720 to the middle of the 14th century. We may
conjecture that side 1 was painted at royal command during a relatively
stable period of Mixtec history. Side 2 was then added when that stability
was broken by an invasion from one of the city-states around Lake
Texcoco, perhaps Colhuacan. The vanquished Mixtecs may have
presented the book as tribute to their conquerors, after someone had
hastily painted the lineage of their house on the back as evidence of their
legitimate claim to their lands.
In his Prymera Relacion of 1519, Cortez wrote that he was
sending "two books such as the Indians use" along with other loot to
Charles V of Spain. We can feel relatively certain that Codex
Vindobonensis was one of them because an ownership inscription on
the manuscript says that Charles V gave it to Manuel I of Portugal who
was dead by the time the next consignment of Mexican plunder reached
Europe. Albrecht Durer viewed some of the loot sent back to Europe,
and noted in his diary that he wept to see metalwork of such beauty
melted down to make conveniently negotiable ingots. What might he
have written had he seen the books? Cortez may have obtained the book
in one of two ways. Since the recto of the manuscript centers on
Quetzalcoatl, and since Moctezoma believed that Cortez was a
manifestation or a lieutenant of that god, he may have sent it to the
Spaniard with other gifts shortly after Cortez landed on the Mexican
coast. We have record of a consignment of gifts sent by Moctezoma
along with the message that Mexico was still being well managed, that its
people still venerated Quetzalcoatl, and that there was no need for the
god to come to the capital. This book would certainly have been an
appropriate one to include with such a collection of gifts, since it would
seem to confirm Moctezoma's message.
The other possibility also involves Quetzalcoatl's prominence in the
book. Before the invasion began, Moctezoma had disaffected large
segments of the indigenous nobility by reducing their privileges and
meddling in affairs they considered their own. One of his major activities
during this period seems to have been seeking omens about the return of
Quetzalcoatl and then trying to circumvent or hide from them. One
approach to the problem was to systematically gather books that dealt
with the god, have them searched for omens, and then destroyed if the
omens were unfavorable. Moctezoma had heard that one such book was
in the hands of two lords, Atonal and Tlamapanatzin, and he ordered
them to burn the book. These lords were among those disaffected by
Moctezoma. They thought that such a book would help anyone wishing
to overthrow the emperor. They secretly approached Cortez, who was
then on the coast, offering him the book and their support if he would
unseat Moctezoma and restore them to their former status. Cortez, of
course, accepted the offer. He probably couldn't think of anything to do
with the book except send it back to Spain with his first consignment of
exotic loot, but it was the sort of aid that these two lords offered that
gave him key advantages over Moctezoma. Along with the diseases the
Spaniards brought with them, such assistance made the rapid conquest
of Mexico possible.
We can reconstruct part of the book's history in Europe. Between the
time Cortez received it and the time at which it came to the Austrian
National Library, where it now resides, it was owned by two emperors, a
duke, a pope, and three cardinals - the list includes two Medicis and a
Habsburg. Clearly during the first 350 years of the book's European
career, it functioned as a pawn in the game of political flattery, a token to
curry favor. Thus the book took part in at least two major conquests in
Mexico, and, in a quiet way, hovered behind its share of aristocratic
intrigue in Europe.
A major characteristic of pre-Conquest central Mexican books is that
they could be given what I call a brief or an extensive reading. An
extensive reading would involve elaborate recitation of prayers, hymns,
legends, etc. A single page could take hours to read. A brief reading
simply involved identification of images and their functions. In the
following pages I have attempted to approximate a brief reading of three
early pages of Codex Vindobonensis. Of course, since our
knowledge of the books and the world in which they functioned is
limited, and since nearly everything we do know is interpreted differently
by contemporary students of these books, the speculative and tentative
nature of such a reading cannot be stressed too much. As much as this
speculation makes huge leaps into the unknown, we should stress with
absolute certainty that Aztec reading practices differed radically from our
own.
A few brief notes before presenting my reading: Most pre-Conquest
deities existed in numerous and often bewildering variant forms. In this
manuscript, a number of distinct forms of the god Quetzalcoatl are
presented, but the one distinguished by the calendar name 9-Wind is the
most important. Dates were written by a combination of one of the
twenty day-signs and a numeral from 1 to 13, indicated by the
appropriate number of dots. 9-Wind is represented by a wind-mask and
nine dots. Each day in the indigenous calendar had a specific fate and the
pre-Conquest Mexicans and their gods took their birth dates as their
names, since the date defined who they were. Hence 9-Wind is both the
name of a specific manifestation of Quetzalcoatl and the date of birth of
that manifestation. In some of the historical manuscripts, like
Bodeley and Selden, dates not used as names are simply
dates, little different from our December 2 or August 12. In Codex
Vienna, however, dates not used as names of persons or gods probably
have a mythic rather than a chronological significance. This book is not a
history in our sense of the word: an event takes place on a specific date
because that's the date in the indigenous calendar on which such an
event has the proper significance.
I use the Nahuatl names of deities in this reading. The people who
first used this book probably used Mixtec names for them, but these
names are unknown to us now. A problem that remains unsolved is to
what extent the Mixtec notions of these deities varied from those of the
peoples of the Valley of Mexico, where we have more extensive
documentation in European script, and hence the names of deities. We
do, however, use the name Buddha when discussing Indian, Chinese,
Japanese, Burmese and Tibetan religion, even though this figure (and his
name) varies from one context to the next. I think we can do the same
here, provided that we bear in mind the probability of significant local
variations.
Reading begins in the lower right hand corner of each page. Start
there and follow the arrows in my reading. Generally, reading proceeds
in a boustrophedon or meander pattern. There is an exception to this
rule on p. 5: when you come to the bottom of the second column, you
do not proceed up the third, but rather start over again at the top of
column three. The painter of the manuscript probably interrupted the
normal pattern of reading here to emphasize the important event
depicted in this column.
As part of my study of this manuscript, I have painted a facsimile of it.
I recommend this sort of activity for any serious student of these
manuscripts. It provides insights I don't think could be gained simply by
looking at a facsimile, and, perhaps, in a small way, helps to make up for
the loss of the oral counterpart of the book - at least it allows the reader
to participate on an active level. The reproductions used here are from
my painted copy.
This essay, facsimile, and reading first appeared in New
Wilderness 11, December, 1982, edited by Jerome Rothenberg and
David Guss. The isue was reprinted by Granary Books as The Book,
Spiritual Instrument in 1996. Electronic publication allow some new
methods of presentation. First, it permits color reproduction. And in
setting up the pages in html, I have done so in such a way as to permit
the reader to flip back and forth between the facsimile and the reading by
clicking anywhere on either. The codex thus slyly slips into a new
dimension of American culture.
Page One.
Page Five.
Page Six.
Bibliography and notes for further reading