Medieval Animal Psychology and the Mirror Self-Recognition Test

If you put a puppy or a kitten in front of a mirror for the first time, how would it react? Social media is full of videos of dogs sniffing or barking at themselves in mirrors, and cats trying to fight their own reflections. Adorable though this scenario may be, some psychologists see it as something deeper, a test of self-awareness.

Charles Darwin was once struck by an orangutan named Jenny gazing into a mirror and wondered whether she recognized herself. Over a century later, psychologist Gordon G. Gallup designed an experiment to test this, marking the faces of chimpanzees with a small amount of dye and observing their reactions when placing a full-length mirror before them.1 Although the experimentโ€™s methodology and assumed implications have been criticized on a number of different fronts, this Mirror Self-Recognition (MSR) test has since been adapted to study a variety of different animals over the years. Orangutans, chimpanzees, dolphins, orcas, magpies, and ghost crabs have supposedly passed versions of the test; dogs, cats, giant pandas, baboons, and cichlids have supposedly not.

Failing the test has been taken to imply a lack of self-awareness, which could in turn have significant evolutionary and cross-species implications. As Jennie Coy explains, in order to cooperate like a human is (at least theoretically) able to, โ€˜an animal has to be sufficiently aware of itself: first, to place itself in relation to the environment; secondly, to perceive itself as having an effect on that environment; and, thirdly, to be aware of the other individual as separate from itself.โ€™2 Self-awareness has controversially been even further connected to questions of intelligence and rationality, traits that have in the past been considered unique to humans and thus separating them from non-human animals. As recently as 1988, Tim Ingold noted, โ€˜The view that non-human animals may be regarded as self-conscious subjects with thoughts and feelings of their own is still something of a heresy in ethological and psychological circles.โ€™3

Darwinโ€™s observations and the MSR test came well after the Middle Ages, but there are a few medieval tales reflecting the underlying premise that certain animals are unable to recognize their own reflections. The first is a fable commonly titled โ€˜The Dog and Its Reflectionโ€™. Aesopโ€™s version of the fable describes how a dog carrying a piece of meat sees its reflection in a body of water. Thinking that it is looking at a different dog with another piece of food, it opens its mouth to attack. In doing so, it drops its own food in the water, leaving it with nothing.

Aberdeen University Library, Univ. Lib. MS 24, fol. 19r.

This was an extremely popular fable, with versions of it adapted across the world and throughout the Middle Ages. The c. 1200 Aberdeen Bestiary, for instance, describes the dog losing meat upon seeing its shadow as a somewhat convoluted allegory for preachers โ€˜driving off the ambushes laid by the Devilโ€™. In most renditions, the fable is used as a more straightforward moral message against greed; in some others like in the thirteenth-century Icelandic Hemings รพรกttr, the message is more political.4 Whatever the subtext may be, every version of the fable is based on the assumption that a dog would not be able to recognize its own reflection.

A second similarly confused animal is the tiger. Medieval animal texts like the Aberdeen Bestiary describe a somewhat cruel ploy to capture a tiger cub and escape the wrath of its mother: ‘When [the thief] sees the tigress drawing close, he throws down a glass sphere. The tigress is deceived by her own image in the glass and thinks it is her stolen cub. She abandons the chase, eager to gather up her young. […] And thus, trapped by the intensity of her sense of duty, she loses both her revenge and her child.’

Aberdeen University Library, Univ. Lib. MS 24, fol. 8r.

This case is slightly more complex. Like the fable dog, the tigress is unable to recognize its own reflection, but does at least evidently understand the reflection to be a familial member of its own species. Of course, the small size of the glass sphere contributes to this confusion, as does the โ€˜intensity of her sense of dutyโ€™ as a mother.

There is an unstated but strong assumption across both stories that a human being would be able to correctly parse their reflection and not succumb to the same errors as the other animals. Reflection stories about humans or half-humans from Narcissus to mermaids are usually concerned with the dangers of pride, vanity, and luxury, but this is all the price of human intelligence. As Joyce Salisbury explains, to medieval philosophers, โ€˜the main principle defining animals was their perceived lack of intellect, โ€œreason.โ€โ€™5 The dog and tiger bestiary stories suggest that self-awareness was also tied to human intellect and reason at this time, and, in fact, centuries before Darwin and Gallup, a medieval Mirror Self-Recognition test was already being theorized.

Ashley Castelino, DPhil
Public Humanities Postdoctoral Fellow
Medieval Institute, University of Notre Dame

  1. Gordon G. Gallup, Jr., ‘Chimpanzees: Self-Recognition’, Science, 167.3914 (1970), pp. 86โ€“87. โ†ฉ๏ธŽ
  2. Jennie Coy, ‘Animals’ Attitudes to People’, in What is an Animal?, ed. by Tim Ingold (Routledge, 1988), pp. 77โ€“83 (p. 80). โ†ฉ๏ธŽ
  3. Introduction toย What is an Animal?, ed. by Tim Ingold (Routledge, 1988), pp. 1โ€“16 (p. 6). โ†ฉ๏ธŽ
  4. Hemings รพรกttr, inย Icelandic Sagas and Other Historical Documents Relating to the Settlements and Descentsย of the Northmen of the British Isles, vol. I,ย Orkneyinga saga and Magnus saga, with Appendices, ed. byย Guรฐbrandur Vigfรบsson (Cambridge University Press, 2012), pp. 347โ€“87 (p. 366). โ†ฉ๏ธŽ
  5. Joyce Salisbury, The Beast Within: Animals in the Middle Ages, 2nd edn (Routledge, 2011), p. 4. โ†ฉ๏ธŽ

“My Mother Told Me”: Egils saga to History Channel’s Vikings

Like many viewers, I quite enjoyed the History Channelโ€™s TV show Vikings. Despite the historical inaccuracies, the altered timelines and invented kinship bonds, in addition to the misrepresentations and adaptations of characters and events, I appreciated the intergenerational quality that seemed to translate that rare quality embedded within the Old Norse-Icelandic sagas. And, the version of รžat mรฆlti mรญn mรณรฐir โ€œMy Mother Told Meโ€ featured in their Season 4, Episode 9 (“Death All ‘Round”) burrowed into my mind like an ear-wyrm.

Like many, I looked into the origins of the song, and was delighted to learn about its genesis in Egils saga. The verse (lausavรญsa), attributed to the famous Icelandic warrior-poet Egill Skallagrรญmsson, comes from Egils saga (chapter 40), where a young Egill describes his youthful ambitions to become a Viking voyager. The saga survives in medieval Icelandic parchment and paper manuscripts (such as the 15th-century Mรถรฐruvallabรณk or later transcriptions housed in Icelandic manuscript collections). 

As I read the Old Norse-Icelandic lyrics one thing caught my eye and demanded my attention. The line: fara รก brott meรฐ vรญkingum โ€œfare away with the vikingsโ€ (4).

I wondered what made the Michael Hirst choose to translate that one line so differently? I mean the rhyme is catchy, sure, but the decision to erase vikingum โ€œvikingsโ€ from the song baffled me. This would be something to emphasize, in my mind, or at the very least keep in tact, rather than remove. And, like Dr. Jack Crawford, I was intrigued to think about how the original could be versified.

Richard Fahey playing ร“รฐinn at NorthFolk NightMarket at Red Apple Farm, 2027. Photo by Postfix (Mythgrove).

After singing this song with FaeGuild Wondersโ€™ cast in both Old Norse-Icelandic and modern English (Vikings-version) for a number of years at Enchanted Orchard Renaissance Faire and the NorthFolk NightMarket, I was inspired to again team up with my twin brother, Tom Fahey (Totem Faehy). We cocreated a new project, Brothers Grimm, with the mission to bring the medieval into the modern imaginary, in collaboration with his neofolk band, Winds of Alluria, in order to bring my own version of the song to life that blended the Vikings-version, the Old Norse-Icelandic poem, and my original translation.

Accompanied by an imagined rowing rhythm, we used samples to create an aural texture, much like we did in our first Brothers Grimm collaboration on Deor. In order to hear the song, and to see the original Old Norse-Icelandic texts and both modern English translations, see รžat mรฆlti mรญn mรณรฐir.

Richard Fahey, PhD
Medieval Institute 
University of Notre Dame

Further Reading

Fahey, Richard. โ€œPlanting Seeds of Wonder: Local Farming, Regional Agrotourism and the Enchanted Orchard Renaissance Faire.โ€ Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (April 9, 2025).

โ€”. โ€œFrom Grendelkin to the NorthFolk NightMarket: Storytelling, Wintering and an Immersive Dramatization of Beowulf.โ€ Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (February 12, 2025).

โ€”. โ€œDeorโ€™s Dark Elegies.โ€ Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (February 3, 2017).

Hospital Lands

My first interest in Byzantine studies was the hospital. In hindsight, I was influenced by the contemporary politics during my undergraduate years. In the midst of American debates on healthcare, I became fascinated by the medieval concern for the sick that was manifest in the Byzantine hospital.

I wrote my undergraduate thesis and MA thesis on Byzantine hospitals.[1] My doctoral work moved away from this interest in hospitals and into questions of landscape. However, sometimes things you stop looking for can find you instead. Hospitals kept showing up in my research on Byzantine landscapes, often in the guise of the lands in the provinces whose exploitation supported the efforts of healing in the imperial capital.

In this blog post, I want to highlight three Constantinopolitan hospitals, whose estates I have encountered in my research on the landscapes of Western Asia Minor. Linking the hospital with their estate lands reminds us that the charity of the capital often depended upon the labor of the provinces.

Myrelaion

The monastery of the Myrelaion was founded by the emperor Romanos Lepekanos around the year 920 from his own personal mansion. The main church of the monastery is found at Bodrum Camii, which was built upon a late antique rotunda (see photo 1 and 2). 

Bodrum Camii from the far side of the platform created by the late antique rotunda (photo by author).
Image of the columns within the late antique rotunda underneath Bodrum Camii (Photo by Author).

Its hospital is known from a Byzantine medical book, attributed to the Romanos, koukouleisios and protomenutes of the imperial hospital of the Myrelaion in Constantinople (Vind. Med. Gr. 48) who probably also lived during the tenth century.[2]

A dramatic account of the Myrelaion estates in western Asia Minor comes from the Life of Saint Nikephoros of Miletus. Here the managers of these estates are positioned as the villains of the tale, interested in stealing the lands which belong to the metropolitan of Miletus. The titular saint does his best to combat the aggressive growth of these estates, arguing before the emperor in Constantinople that the loss of the episcopal estates was a danger โ€œto both the living and the dead.โ€ 

Pantokrator

The monastery of the Pantokrator was founded by John II Komnenos and his wife, Eirene (formerly Piroska of Hungry) in the twelfth century. The monastery church survives in modern Istanbul as the Zeyrek Camii (see photos 3 and 4).

A view of Zeyrek Camii from the north and below on Ataturk Boulevard (Photo by author).
Inside of the Zeyrek Camii looking south (Photo by author).

The Pantokrator hospital is well known due to the detailed account of its operation in its typikon, a type of monastic charter which lays out the liturgical rules and administrative needs of the monastery at its foundation. For those interested in Byzantine hospitals, the English translation of this typikon is a great primary source to start reading.[3] In fact, the monastery operated four hospitals: a leper hospital, a nursing home, a monastic infirmary, and a medical hospital. I had argued for a relationship between the Unkapanฤฑ cistern and the hospital, due to the prescription of bathing in the hospital shown in the typikon (see photo 5).

Unkapanฤฑ Cistern from below (photo by author).

The typikon also lists the lands given to the monastery. However, my interest is a property given to the monastery after the typikon was composed. The Pantokrator monastery owned the Bare estate in region of Smyrna before the chaos of the Fourth Crusade (1204). Bare is known from the Lembos cartulary, whose new edition and translation should whet the curiosity of anyone interested to learn more.[4]

Sampson

The date of the foundation of the Sampson hospital is less than straightforward.[5] The hospital burned down in the Nika Riots of the sixth century. The hospital, with a wing designated entirely for eyecare, appears in the seventh-century Miracles of Saint Artemios.[6]  In another miracle collection, the hospital is the true stage of the action: tenth-century Miracles of Saint Sampson the Hospitable recorded by Symeon Metaphrastis as part of his larger project of rewriting hagiography. 

The ruins between Hagia Sophia and Hagia Eirene have been excavated roughly where the hospital is known to be located, although this identification is not certain.

The imperial estate known as Sampson was responsible for renaming the city of Priene in western Asia Minor in the twelfth century (see photo 6). The inhabitants of these estates were bad neighbors; three different thirteenth-century monastic archives preserve documents of court cases against them. The Sampson estates may have originated as imperial support for the Sampson hospital, but the estate was under the control of a relative of the emperor in the twelfth century.

A view of the acropolis of Priene from below within the city ruins (photo by author).

Tyler Wolford, PhD
Byzantine Studies Postdoctoral Fellowship
Medieval Institute
University of Notre Dame


[1] Tyler Wolford, Healing on the Fourth Hill: Searching for the Pantokrator Hospital.  Ungraduated Honors Thesis, Ball State University, 2012.  Partially published as ibid., โ€œTo Each According to their Need: Medical and Charitable Institutions in the Pantokrator Monastery.โ€ In Piroska and the Pantokrator: Dynastic Memory, Healing, and Salvation in Komnenian Constantinople.  Edited by Marianne Sรกghy and Robert G. Ousterhout, 195-224. Budapest, 2019.  Ibid., The Hospitals of the Monastery: Contextualizing the Nosokomeion and Xenodocheion in the Monasteries of Late Antique Egypt and Palestine.  Masterโ€™s Thesis, Koรง University, 2014.  Partially published as Tyler Wolford, โ€œSeparate Places for the Sick in the Monastery: The Late Antique Palestinian Infirmary and Guesthouse.โ€ In Places of Illness, Spaces for Healing: The Built Environment of Healthcare in Anatolia Through the Ages.  Edited by Luciene Thys-ลženocak and Inge Uytterhoeven, 133-154.  Istanbul, 2025.

[2] Peregrine Horden, โ€œMedieval hospital formularies: Byzantium and Islam Compared.โ€ In Medical Books in the Byzantine World.  Edited by Barbara Zipser.  Bologna 2013.  150-151.

[3] Robert Jordan.  โ€œ28. Pantokrator.  Typikon of Emperor John II Komnenos for the Monastery of Christ Pantokrator in Constantinople.โ€ In Byzantine Monastic Foundation Documents (BMFD), edited by John Philip Thomas and Angela Constantinides Hero, 725-781. Washington D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, 2000.

[4] Alexander Daniel Beihammer and Despoina Ariantzi. The Cartulary of the Lembos Monastery Near Smyrna: A Thirteenth-Century Monastic Archive of Byzantine Asia Minor. De Gruyter, 2026.

[5] Timothy Miller, โ€œThe Sampson Hospital of Constantinople.โ€ Byzantinische Forschungen 15 (1990): 101-135.

[6] Virgil S. Crisafulli and John W. Nesbitt.  The Miracles of St. Artemios. The Medieval Mediterranean 13. Leiden, New York, and Kรถln, 1997.