I answered a somewhat related question about Bosch about a year ago (https://www.reddit.com/r/AskHistorians/comments/fenum3/why_did_hieronymus_bosch_paint_so_differently_to/ ); it’s worth checking out that answer for more information, but I’ll draw from it here, as well.
I’ll try to break this into two parts: first, a little about Bosch and why we think he could paint the way he did, and second, a closer look at certain elements of the Garden of Earthly Delights and what we can say about a term like “sacrilegious” in the Early Modern Period. I’ll also try to address whether what he’s doing is actually “retconning” Genesis.
Bosch came from a family of painters. He's first documented as a painter around 1480, and then around June of 1481 he appears to have married Aleyt Goyarts van den Meervenne (d. 1522-23), the daughter of a wealthy local patriciate. Bosch was thus wealthy enough not to have to paint to make a living, which sets him apart from the majority of painters from this period (most of the artists you've heard of from the early modern era worked to make a living). According to tax records from 1502-3 and 1511-12, Bosch was in the top 10% of ’s Hertogenbosch citizens. He was also a member of the Brotherhood of Our Lady, an exclusive social group that also provided his first commissions. It is a sign of Bosch's unusual social status that he was the only artist to be a sworn member of this group.
This independent wealth and high social status may have given Bosch a degree of freedom that other artists lacked. BUT: he was still working for patrons, and people were paying for (and collecting) his works during and after his lifetime. However strange his works may look to us it’s important to keep in mind that they still fit within certain established norms of taste.
To give one example from a writer closer to Bosch’s time (but still almost half a century after his death), here is what a connoisseur and critic had to say about Bosch:
“That which Hieronymous Bosch did with wisdom and decorum others did, and still do, without any discretion and good judgment; for having seen in Flanders how well received was this kind of painting by Hieronymous Bosch, they decided to imitate it and painted monsters and various imaginary subjects, thus giving to understand that in this alone consisted the imitation of Bosch. […]I dare to maintain that Bosch never in his life painted anything unnatural, except in terms of Hell or Purgatory as I have mentioned before.” Felipe de Guevara, “Commentarios de la Pintura”, c. 1560
And here is what the Spanish historian, poet, and theologian Fra José de Sigüenza had to say about him (this time almost a century after his death):
“I want to show presently that his pictures are by no means absurdities but rather, as it were, books of great wisdom and artistic value. If there are any absurdities here, they are ours, not his; and to say it at once, they are a painted satire on the sins and ravings of man.” Fra José de Sigüenza, History of the Order of St. Jerome, 1605
I give these examples as a reminder that the way we view Bosch’s paintings may not necessarily align with how all viewers from his time (or after) viewed them. These two authors suggest that while “monsters and various imaginary subjects” and “absurdities” may have formed part of the discourse around Bosch’s art, there was clearly a strain of thinking that argued against the notion that Bosch was just painting absurd, fantastical paintings.
This brings us to the Garden of Earthly Delights. I’m not going to pretend this isn’t a wild painting to look at—it is, to put it mildly, a fucking trip. In particular the right interior panelhas details that definitely make us question whether the two authors cited were looking at the same works as we are: a bird monster eating souls and pooping them out, a Tree-Man with an egg torso, people strung up or impaled on instruments, and so on.
There have been varying interpretations of this work over the years, but my understanding is that most scholars now consider this a work rooted in traditional morality. Let’s start with the painting’s exterior (i.e., the outside panels, when the painting is closed): a grisaille (greyscale) image of God the Father floating in space (up in the left-hand corner) bringing the world into existence. At the top is an inscription from Psalm 33: “He spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood forth.”
The interior features three panels (thus making this a triptych). In the left panel is God the Creator (in the form of Christ) blessing Adam and Eve and commanding them to “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.” (Genesis 1:28) The notion that this is intended to suggest a sexual union (related to marriage, the context within which appropriate sexual relations can take place in Christianity) is indicated by the poses of Adam and Eve.
While this is a scene from before The Fall (and is thus “Paradise”), there are ominous hints and suggestions that not all is right: e.g., an owl perched above them in a pink disk (possibly an evil omen), two birds fighting over a dead frog, a boar attacking a giant lizard, a lion feeding on a downed gazelle, etc.
Then we get to the central panel: worldly pleasures and sexual unions completely run amok. The descendants of Adam and Eve engage in sinful activities to excess—a likely reference to the earth in “the days of Noah” (Matthew 24:37), i.e., before the Great Flood. The central panel can thus be read as an apocalyptic message, for it refers to the judgment of God in Biblical times as well as the coming judgment of Christ at the end of time.
The right panel then shows the torments of Hell—the end result of sin, with several torments gauged specifically to the particular sin.
Read this way, from Creation to Fall to Judgment, the painting is thus far from “sacrilegious”—quite the opposite! It is a profoundly moralizing painting, warning viewers of the excesses of sin. This is in line with how we’ve come to think of Bosch: i.e., as a moralizing, traditional figure, whose works reflect contemporary orthodoxy rather than heterodoxy or heresy.
As a further point, this was most likely commissioned for a private space by a nobleman. The standards for what was acceptable could and did vary based on public vs private commissions, or commissions intended for religious settings instead of private settings. If we understand this as a private work—possibly commissioned on the occasion of a marriage, which implies sexual union—then the painting can fit perfectly within traditional religious views, despite its fantastic imagery.
Most of this is drawn from notes I’ve used for teaching (which may not reflect the most recent research, so caveat lector), a lot of which was probably based on Grove and the notes of a fellow art historian. Some articles you might want to check out include Lynn F. Jacobs, “The Triptychs of Hieronymus Bosch” The Sixteenth Century Journal 31, Winter 2000; and Larry Silver, “God in the Details: Bosch and Judgment(s)” The Art Bulletin Dec. 2001. You might also try something like Craig Harbison’s The Mirror of the Artist: Northern Renaissance Art in its Historical Context for a good introduction to Northern Art broadly (with some specifics on Bosch).
