The Serpent and the Dove
July 24, 2017
Mourning Dove, Deschutes National Forest
FROM an essay by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira, “Be Wise as Serpents and Simple as Doves:”
Harmonious in line, simple in color, graceful in its flight and movement, “affable” with other animals, pure and candid in its whole being, the dove has nothing in itself to suggest the idea of plunder, aggression, injustice, intemperance or impurity. It is, therefore, most appropriate that in the words of Our Savior, it is a symbol of innocence.
But it lacks something: the qualities that assures its survival in the struggle against adverse factors. Its perspicacity is minimal, its combativeness zero, its only defense is flight. That is why the Holy Spirit tells us, “Imbecile doves, without intelligence!” (Os 7: 11).
This reminds us of certain Catholics deformed by Romanticism, for whom virtue consists only and always in hiding, in submitting in receiving blows, in retreating, and in allowing themselves to be trampled underfoot.
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How different is the serpent – aggressive, venomous, deceptive, astute and agile!
Elegant but repugnant, fragile enough to be crushed by a boy yet dangerous enough to kill a lion with its venom. His whole shape and way of moving is adapted for a veiled, treacherous and lightning fast attack. So bewitching that certain species mesmerize its victim but it emits and spreads an aura of terror. Thus it is the symbol of evil, with all the sorcery and all the treachery of the forces of perdition.
However in all this wickedness, what prudence! What cunning! Prudence is the virtue by which one employs the necessary means to reach the ends he has in sight. Cunning is one aspect, and in a certain sense, a quintessence of prudence, which maintains all discretion and employs every licit guise needed to arrive at an end. Everything in the serpent is cunning and prudent, from its penetrating gaze, its long, slender shape, and its terrible key weapon – a venom that pierces the victim’s skin through a single, small perforation and circulates throughout his entire body in a few moments.
Kitagawa Utamaro, 1788 The Metropolitan Museum of Art
