Thinking with animals has been around since... the dawn of animals. And the utility and relevance of doing so persists today, undiminished. One of the mediums for such a process was popularized in the medieval era, and is called - you guessed it - the bestiary! This so-called "book of beasts" included detailed descriptions, spiritual interpretations, and exquisite handmade paintings often even plated in gold (as is seen to the left!) of both real and imaginary animals. Gaining prominence during the Middle Ages, this compendium was a thing of luxury, amalgamating natural science, entertainment, and aesthetic pleasure. It's worthy to note that the bestiary is not a wholly reputable scientific reference. Brimming with fantastic beasts and real animals that the illustrators themselves likely never saw (and could thus not depict very accurately), the book should be held more so in a symbolic regard rather than a verifiable source of fact. That being said, the bestiary was one of the first works to truly realize and underscore the value of animals in our lives. This is evidenced by the creation of each individual book itself; as parchment was arduously derived from goat skin and the text penned with feather quills, the wondrous nature of animals was fortified as they became both the means and mediums of transmission (Davis). The bestiary, then, is a way for us to appreciate the breadth of animals along with our own humanity, as we uncover the similarities and differences that exist between our respective species.

Infused with both fact and fiction, several cultural and etymological roots, and the ideals of the Judeo-Christian tradition, the bestiary was also a means by which people found appreciation and gleaned insight into God's creation. In understanding nature, we understand God; by defining animals, we define what it means to be human. As fellow products of God's handiwork, humans were able to see extensions of themselves in animals, the traces of their virtue and vice, sometimes blurring and sometimes magnifying the hierarchical lines between them. In this way, the bestiary serves as a rich apparatus with a deeply anthropocentric view for grasping God and ourselves and life at large. At the same time, it raises all these existential and philosophical questions like, is there a true hierarchy between God, man, and animal? Is it more of a spectrum? If so, where do we fall? Is there possibly even an intraspecies hierarchy for humans, as was true in feudal times? Moreover, is it worth hours of analysis and sleep deprivation for a college humanities course? These questions have stood the test of time, and that is why the bestiary remains, to this day, pretty darn cool.

In the bestiary, this is the description typically given to man. On the surface level, the bestiary sets up a traditional hierarchy which follows God -> man -> animal. God has the power to create, man has the power to name, and the animal is the creation itself (alongside humanity).

But think about it. What other beast has godlike power? Who else exercises such authority, who reigns and remains unmatched by any other; who else invokes a simultaneous emotional response of respect and fear, who fortifies the natural order? I have a feeling the picture gave it away. Nevertheless, the bestiary also acknowledges the preeminence of the lion, as is evidenced by the species' prime placement not only at the top of the food chain, but at the very beginning of the book. In doing so, the bestiary instantly characterizes the lion as the forerunner and (ironically) the bellwether of all the beasts. Further, lions continually stray from the typically one-dimensional perception we have of them, that is, the big scary cat that will huff and puff and then eat you up, in exchange for a more nuanced representation. For instance, although lions are natural predators who, "vent their rage with tooth or claw," they are also portrayed and revered as Christ figures. In picture and text, the bestiary draws attention to both a lion's ability to slaughter and its capacity for mercy, the inclination to exploit its brute strength and the willingness to remain noble in spite of such an advantage, the vicious and the dignified, the beast and the God.

As the lion has three attributes, so also it has three natures which comprise the thick of the lion's description in the bestiary. First and foremost, the lion loves to roam mountaintops. But if he gets a whiff of nearby hunters, he'll make sure to sweep his tail behind him so as to cover his tracks (Aberdeen University Library, Univ Lib. MS 24. Folio 7r). This tells us a couple things. The lion's playful and almost childlike love for mountaintop strolls indicates a lovable and enthusiastic joie de vivre, not something you'd expect from a ferocious predator. Yet still, the lion is ever intuitive and crafty, sensing hunters' presence and devising a strategy to avoid them. This animalistic action is then endowed with a theological perspective. The lion's covering of his tracks is likened to Christ the Redeemer's disguise of His divine origin through the incarnation. The metaphor incorporates the hunter as the devil, who is blind to Jesus's true and dual nature. In the second still, the lion breathes life into his cubs. The text elaborates on this, saying that the cubs are born into the world dead, perhaps just as Christ entered the world fated to die, constrained by human mortality. Only on the third day does the father come and reanimate, or resurrect his offspring. The final nature of the lion is sleeping with its eyes open. The bestiary text draws from a number of Biblical passages, including the Song of Songs and Psalms to establish the metaphor of the Godhead (God the Father) keeping watch over his temporarily dead Son. One is reminded also of the repeating Biblical plea to stay awake and remain vigilant so as to avoid sin, or even Christ's command to His disciples prior to the Passion that they should keep watch and pray lest they fall into temptation, "for the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." The lion, then, is renowned for both his keen self and environmental awareness along with his resistance of the flesh - which could mean a refusal of his animalistic impulses. In summary, the lion's portrayal as a Christ figure corresponds with the deeply religious exigency of the bestiary itself. As the book and the medieval folk who ushered it into this world prioritized their faith, so was the lion esteemed as the alpha and the first of the beasts.