The Cats Project

Jacob Cats! These days, hardly anyone reads him anymore, but up until well into the 19th century, he was perhaps the most beloved poet in the Netherlands. During his lifetime (1577–1660), more than 350 editions of his works were published, making him likely still the record holder. Cats also profited from his books. People often think that writers in the seventeenth century wrote for honor alone, but that’s certainly not true. That may have been the case for a poet like Hooft, but not, for example, for Vondel—and certainly not for Cats. He often acted as co-publisher of his books.

Anyone who looks at his books will immediately understand why he was so successful. Most are filled with beautiful engravings, accompanied by captions written by the poet himself. These captions were often proverbs, which were then explained in a poem. Many of them are still well-known today: “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” “A donkey doesn’t bump into the same stone twice,” and so on.

The Cats Project is about those illustrations. The first major edition of his collected works contains no fewer than 398 of them. They are all engravings and etchings printed from copper plates. Such plates were reused in successive editions, but they were also copied. Some are large in the first edition but shrink to almost postage stamp size in later reprints. One may be made by a skilled artist, another seems scratched into the plate by the printer’s youngest apprentice.

We want to bring together all the illustrations from all known editions of Cats on a website. You can find them here: >> It’s a work in progress that will take years to complete, but even now it’s an interesting collection. For art historians, who can trace how one version followed another, but also for anyone who wants to see what the world looked like in the seventeenth century.

Part of these Catses will be on sale in our AABookstore, others will be part of our library collection. Cats had some strong but funny opnions to about alchemists, and doctors in the Paracelsian mode.

How repulsive the fare—what won’t he eat or drink?

He takes in all that a quack or vagabond prescribes.

When I at times read what great Masters write,

Of things deemed useful to drive away disease,

Then I stand amazed at all the strange pursuits

That each undertakes for this frail body.

A man’s earwax, a boar’s excrement,

Are boiled into a drink to work some miracle.

The excrement of a wolf mixed with Spanish wine—

That, they write, is a useful remedy for colic.

One takes a toad and mouse, yes, lice freshly caught,

To drive some phlegmatic ailment from the flesh.

Not few there are who choose the piss or human dung,

When their throat swells from a phlegm-related trouble.

Fresh donkey dung, and what the geese have shat—

This is held to be a wondrous cure for jaundice.

One takes poisonous juices and all manner of filth,

If only it might somehow serve the body.

A freshly cooked viper, even roasted snakes—

These, the sick often long for and consume.

The urine of a bear, a dog’s own vomit—

Such things are often taken in and deemed healthful.

There are those in the land who heat up iron red-hot,

To burn a vein in someone when it’s called for.

They cut off many a person’s leg, hand, or breast,

Just to remain a little while longer out of the grave.

It’s said that Aesculapius, when one was in need,

Even tested the urine and excrement of the sick,

So that by tasting that unlucky fluid,

He might better know the roots of the disease.

In short, whatever filth is found upon the earth,

However loathsome to stomach and delicate mouth,

However foul it tastes—yet still, nonetheless,

It is bought at high cost and willingly consumed.

And all this is done for the sake of our petty life,

Perhaps to gain a little time or fleeting comfort.