Illustration by Audrey Estok (@AudreyEstok)
In the Star Wars: Forces of Destiny short “Art History,” Sabine Wren and her brother Tristen climb a mountain in a dusty landscape, stopping to look at a monumental statue of their ancestor, the ancient Mandalorian warrior Tarre Vizsela. Vizsela, the first Mandalorian inducted into the Jedi Order, had created the darksaber, which Sabine now wields. Upon seeing the statue, Sabine reacts in wonder: “Amazing, right? So much history and hope in one carving.” When Tristen notes that a stormtrooper outpost has been erected around the statue, Sabine decides that they should “free” it. After successfully destroying the outpost without damaging the statue, Tristen comments that it “looks happy.” The final seconds of the two-and-a-half minute episode pan over the statue, showing it free from the command post.
This short encapsulates much of how Star Wars utilizes the medieval as inspiration. The statue is reminiscent of an effigy of a medieval knight, and Vizsela’s armor is reminiscent of aspects of plate armor. The Jedi clutches his darksaber in a way that simultaneously recalls a knight holding or gesturing to his sword and holding his hands as if in prayer.
Photo on left by author, image on right © Victoria and Albert Museum, London (via).
For European believers, relics allowed worshipers to encounter some aspect of an object of devotion—a holy person or place—when the object itself was physically unavailable or geographically inaccessible. They often contained something of a saint’s essence; sometimes a relic was part of the saint’s body, but it could also be something that came into contact with the saint during their lifetime, or even came into contact with the saint’s shrine after their death. Mary’s breastmilk, Christ’s foreskin, the bones of saints, and even bits of cloth all formed part of the relic economy that purported to contain and spread the holy person’s essence. Relics circulated, but so did believers, and pilgrims often bought souvenirs on their travels. Pilgrim badges served as objects of remembrance, while ampullae—small flasks—provided a means to bring home some oil or soil from a key religious site. These souvenirs, especially ampullae, provided a constant multiplication of relics, as did the division of saintly bodies and clothes.
Pilgrim’s badge and medieval ampulla. Metropolitan Museum of Art [CC0] and The Portable Antiquities Scheme/ The Trustees of the British Museum [CC BY-SA 2.0]
Moreover, relics connected medieval worshipers to their faith’s past. Relics of early martyrs, Apostles, the Virgin Mary, and Christ himself provided links to Christianity’s origins while also encouraging righteous behavior. In many written descriptions of the lives, deeds, and miracles of saints, they punished those who mistreated their relics. For instance, in the Liber Eliensis, we are told how Æthelthryth blinded and killed a Danish raider who sought to violate her tomb, and thus her body.1
Relic creation and veneration was not met with unanimous support, however. Iconoclastic rulers, popes, and writers argued they were akin to idols, and their veneration a violation of the first commandment. Along with images of saints, especially icons (images of saints used to encourage veneration), relics and reliquaries were destroyed en masse during moments of iconoclastic fervor, particularly in the Byzantine Iconoclasm of the eighth and ninth centuries and later during the Protestant Reformation. The Protestant Reformation, to simplify one aspect of it, sought direct contact with God, making intercession and its related relic veneration unnecessary in the economy of prayer. In many cases, the destruction of icons destroyed links to the past, whether intentionally or unintentionally, for those living contemporary to the destruction, and for later art historians who bemoan the lack of medieval art lost to different waves of iconoclasm.
So how does Star Wars utilize relics to create a pseudo-medieval relic culture? In short, it offers an opportunity to consider narrative moments, visual references, and even the collecting practices of fans through the lens of medieval relic practice. Through this lens, we can recognize a medievalesque economy of veneration, and the replication of divine relics within both the Star Wars universe and its fandom.
Perhaps one of the most recognizable relics in the Star Wars universe is Darth Vader’s helmet. Professor Howard Williams argued that the helmet, even before its transformation into a cremifact, was a “science fiction version” of the famous Sutton Hoo helmet.2 So entrenched is this object’s silhouette in early medieval scholarship that my own Darth Vader shoes, worn at a conference on Early Medieval English material culture, were repeatedly mistaken for Sutton Hoo shoes. Beyond aesthetic similarities, the treatment of Vader’s helmet evokes medieval relic veneration. Brandon Hawk has considered how the place of Vader’s helmet in the narrative of The Force Awakens hinges on medievalism, arguing that that Darth Vader becomes an “anti-saint” for Kylo Ren.3
The Sutton Hoo helmet and a Darth Vader replica helmet. Photo credit Joyofmuseums and Quarax [CC BY-SA 4.0]
Kylo Ren bows his head as a supplicant at a pseudo-altar holding an iconic relic of a saint, someone he beseeches to help him, echoing medieval prayers which seek forgiveness for sin and help in overcoming temptation. Moreover, Vader is not only Ren’s idol, but also a link to his family’s past and the First Order’s origins. While Kylo Ren has not violated Vader’s relics directly, he feels he has violated his grandfather’s memory by flirting, however momentarily, with the light side of the Force. Unlike medieval pilgrims and supplicants asking for saints to intercede with God on their behalf, Kylo seeks forgiveness directly from his grandfather-saint.
Derek Krueger notes that saintly bodies and relics “mediate between humanity and the divine.”4 In the Star Wars universe, relic-objects such as lightsabers, Vader’s helmet, and Sabine’s statue perform the same function. But fandom has its own relic economy, one in which the fan, “humanity,” seeks connection to the “divine” narrative by collecting relics of the universe itself. In discussing action figures, Wetmore argued that “the experience of the film no longer has primacy; it is the surrounding one’s self with the objects of the films that allows one to fully participate in the narrative and world of the films.”5 Lightsabers are one of the most accessible pieces of merchandise, ranging in price from around $20 to around $250, depending on the quality and purpose of the piece. As a result, they have become one of the most important relics for fans of the series to collect.
Dok-Andar’s Den of Antiquities. Photo credit Laika ac, September 20, 2019 [CC BY-SA 2.0]
Photo by the author
Medieval pilgrims, in collecting ampullae and other souvenirs from holy sites, participated in a relic economy that reproduced key iconography, one we see paralleled in fan pilgrimages to places and events like Galaxy’s Edge and Star Wars Celebration. To further this analogy, certain things are more valuable in this relic economy. The “uncorrupted” action figure in its pristine packaging is more valuable financially than a thoroughly played with version of the same action figure, though the latter may have more sentimental value to the owner. Star Wars Celebration, in particular, offers a veritable relic marketplace for those seeking that uncorrupted figure or elusive lightsaber.
A moment in a recent trailer for The Rise of Skywalker suggests that the in-universe relic economy may be disrupted by a wave of iconoclasm. Kylo Ren and Rey appear to destroy the altar on which Darth Vader’s helmet sits, if not the entire helmet itself, recalling Ren’s iconic line from The Last Jedi: “Let the past die. Kill it if you have to.” It remains to be seen what past, and therefore what relics, are to be destroyed in The Rise of Skywalker, yet is likely that this moment will juxtapose the destruction and veneration of objects. The narrative may destroy various objects, but subsequent merchandise may offer an opportunity to preserve the destroyed—even to venerate it.
Evidence of 16th century iconoclasm, Cathedral of Saint Martin, Utrecht. Photo credit Arktos [CC BY-SA 2.5]
For Further Reading:
Brown, Peter. The Cult of the Saints: Its Rise and Function In Latin Christianity. Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2014.
Cormack, Robin. Byzantine Art. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000.
Goodson, Caroline. The Rome of Paschal I: Papal Power, Urban Renovation, Church Rebuilding and Relic Translation, 817-824. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.
O’Hagan, Terry. “Star Wars: Archaeology of the Jedi.” Vox Hiberionacum (blog), 23 December 2015.
Silvio, Carl and Tony M. Vinci, eds. Culture, Identities, and Technology in the Star Wars Films. London: McFarland, 2007.
Editor’s note: you can find all of the pieces in our December 2019 Star Wars issue here.
- Janet Fairweather, trans. Liber Eliensis: A History of the Isle of Ely from the Seventh Century to the Twelfth Century (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 2005), 55-6.
- Howard Williams, “Darth Vader’s Mask Strikes Back: Star Wars Crematifacts Explored.”
- Brandon W. Hawk, “Medievalism in The Force Awakens.”
- Derek Krueger, “The Religion of Relics in Late Antiquity and Byzantium,” in Treasures of Heaven: Saints, Relics, and Devotion in Medieval Europe, eds. Martina Bagnoli, Holger A. Klein, C Griffith Mann, and James Robinson (London: The British Museum Press, 2011), 5–18.
- Kevin J. Wetmore, Jr. “‘Your Father’s Lightsaber’: The Fetishization of Objects Between the Trilogies,” in Culture, Identities, and Technology in the Star Wars Films, eds. Carl Silvio and Tony M. Vinci (London: McFarland, 2007), 175–88.
