Most people my age can remember where they were when JFK was shot, when the twin towers fell, and when they first came face-to-face with a pomegranate. I was seven years old when I watched Phil Kiefer, who lived across the street, rip a pomegranate off of a neighbor’s tree and struggle to break it open. Despite never having seen a pomegranate before, Kiefer’s excitement had me thinking it must be something very special.
Eventually, Kiefer won the battle, tore off a wedge and handed it to me. In short order I was pricked by the rind, gagged by the tannins in the pith and had my teeth gnash on the seeds.
The lengths people go to overcome the ordeal of removing the seeds and avoiding permanent stains on everything they own, should signal to anyone sane that it's more trouble than it's worth.
Decades passed with me adhering to a zero-pomegranate lifestyle until I sat down to eat a dinner made by my wife’s Iranian friend Ladan (the Persian word for the bright orange and yellow nasturtium flower). The dinner included a dish called morgh-e nardooni (pomegranate chicken) and was far and away the tastiest chicken I’ve ever eaten. I badgered Ladan into giving up details on the ingredients, fully intending to master the dish and raise my quality of life. Unfortunately, at that time Walmart did not carry pomegranate molasses and I lost focus.
Recently I have been using the internet to explore the Alhambra palace and fortress in the city of Granada, Spain (all the while unaware that Granada is the Spanish word for pomegranate). I do not know how I first learned about the Alhambra but it certainly wasn't in a course covering the history of civilization or art history. I was fed a Eurocentric diet of Egypt, Greece, Rome, medieval Europe and Italian Renaissance art and architecture. The Alhambra falls outside this realm despite being located in Europe, as it was built by Muslims, not Europeans.
What started as a small fortress circa 900 AD, was expanded into a luxurious hill-top city in the 13th century surrounded by walls that survived centuries of Christian crusaders. Inside these walls lies an architectural and decorative fantasy that blends masonry with embroidery. Every surface mesmerizes with calligraphy, interlocking geometric shapes and intricate abstract reliefs.
The interior has had an impact on more than a few artists. M.C. Escher visited twice and expanded his subject matter from landscapes to include the optical illusionary images for which he is known. In 1922, he spent an afternoon in the Alhambra sketching various tile designs. He returned 12 years later to spend 3 full days copying many of the patterns from the walls and floors.
He spoke of a "primal urge" to investigate the patterns he found where a flat surface was filled with shapes without any overlaps or empty space. Escher's contribution to this genre was to introduce natural forms which islamic art avoids such as birds, fish, etc.
It is said that visiting the Alhambra influenced the unique ornamentation found in the work of Matisse and moved him to adopt flat zones of color, void of any western perspective.
One assumes Escher and Matisse were also made aware of how the pomegranate inspired the layout of the Alhambra - hidden treasures within an impenetrable outer shell. The entire complex incorporates pomegranates throughout, including trees in the interior Generalife and Partal gardens just as does the Quran's depiction of the afterlife's gardens of paradise (Jannah).
Pomegranates dominate the design of sculptural and decorative elements found in the Alhambra. Islamic art for the most part, steers clear of literal depictions of natural objects, which is why only abstract images of pomegranates are included in tiles found on walls and floors, and in the intricately carved stucco reliefs and friezes.
Certainly the most visually dramatic way in which the pomegranate is channeled into the design of the Alhambra is in the Hall of the Two Sisters (Sala de los Dos Hermanas) with a mugarnas ceiling featuring over 5,000 unique individual stucco cells.
The dome above this space in the Nasrid Palace emulates a hollowed out pomegranate with tiny, honeycombed recesses fused together into geometric clusters that mimic the internal, cellular chambers of a pomegranate once the seeds have been scooped out.
Additionally, Just as a real pomegranate shell filters light unevenly through its jagged interior, the Alhambra architects built tiny lateral windows around the drum of the dome. This allows shifting daylight to hit the thousands of stucco cells, making the "empty seed pockets" look like they are constantly moving, changing color, and oscilating with light.
There were a few life-like pomegranates added after 1492 when King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, conquered Granada—the last Muslim kingdom in Spain. They adopted the pomegranate as a symbol of victory and added it to the Spanish Coat of Arms, where it remains today.
When their daughter Catherine of Aragon became the first wife of Henry VIII, she brought the pomegranate symbol to the English court from her homeland. When Catherine failed to produce a surviving male heir, Henry VIII sought a papal annulment to marry Anne Boleyn. Catherine was one of the most highly educated women of the early Renaissance. She was fluent in Latin and Greek, well-versed in classical Roman and Greek science, and a prominent patron of Humanist scholars. William Tyldesley was the Keeper of the King's Library in 1534 and surely was well-acquainted with Catherine. One can speculate how this must have gone.
Tyldesley: "Good morning Your Majesty, you honor us with your presence........it's wonderful to have you visit us again."
Catherine: "Tranquilo wey (hombre, chill)."
Tyldesley: "Gracious Sovereign, how may the library serve the crown today?"
Catherine: "Ay, Dios mio. Guillermo, it's just me and you, no le hagas la barba (can we dispense with the ass-kissing?)"
Tyldesley: "Forgive me Your Majesty, but it's difficult for someone in my position to ignore Tudor Court protocol."
Catherine: "Estoy con la soga al cuello (I am at the end of my rope). That gordo de mierda (fat pig of a man) continues to demand that I bear him a son. I can't deal with it emotionally, I've lost too many babies."
Tyldesley: "I do deeply lament Your Grace's heavy grief."
Catherine: "I certainly can't deal with it any more physically, lo has visto ultimamente (Have you seen him lately)?"
Tyldesley: "Yes Your Grace, His Majesty's person doth wax ample and portly, bearing the full and goodly shape of a most bounteous prince (a fat fuck if I ever saw one)."
Catherine: "For the title of my memoir I am considering Coitus with a River Barge."
Tyldesley: "Your Majesty's right excellent pleasantry doth greatly comfort and move the mind to joy (LMAO)."
Catherine: "I demand you pretend for a moment that I am neither Queen nor Catholic, and honestly tell me if there's anything about infertility on these shelves."
Tyldesley: "If Your Grace....I beg your pardon. If someone other than Your Grace were to look in the ancient medicine section, they might run across an historical text by Hippocrates recommending pomegranate rind to prevent conception."
Catherine: "God's mercy! (I'll be a son of a bitch!)"
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Modern science has evaluated this: isolated, high-concentration tannin extracts applied directly as a vaginal suppository have shown spermicidal properties in laboratory settings.
