Michelangelo, Libyan Sibyl, ca. 1511, fresco, 395 × 380 cm, Sistine Chapel, Vatican.
“The pose of the Libyan Sibyl is one of the most dynamic and complex inventions Michelangelo created with the last figures of the Veiling. The twisting motions of the Sibyl, inensified by the movement of her robes, express “furor divinus,” or divine fury, that is present on other scenes on the second half of the Ceiling as well.“ (Matthias Winner, from ‘Jonah’s Body Language’ in The Sistine Chapel: A Glorious Restoration)
“The same holds true for the lovely figure of the Libyan Sibyl who, having written a great volume drawn from many books, is about to rise to her feet in an attitude of womanly grace; and at one and the same time she makes as if to rise and to close the book, something most difficult, not to say impossible, for anhyone but the master to have depicted.” (Giorgio Vasari, from ‘Life of Michelangelo Buonarroti’ in The Lives of the Aritsts, trans. Julia Conway Bondanella and Peter Bondanella)
“The Sibyl neer reveals the truth,/ unless she is furious, demented and wretched;/ and the divine plan/ is discerned when her mind is affected, not when it is sound.” (Leonardo Bruni Aretino, from ‘Ballad in Praise of Venus: 7’)
“La Sibilla non mai il vero isnoda,/ Se non quand’è furente, matta e grama;/ E la divina trama/ Cerne il commosso, e non il sano petto”
“According to Barbieri, Libyca had prophesied: Behold, the day shall come and shall illuminate the condensed shadows, and the lips of men shall be silent: and they shall seethe King of the Living. A virgin, the mistress of the nations, shall hold him in her lap, and shall reign in mercy; and the womb of his mother shall be the image of all.” (from ‘The Libyan Sibyl’ in Michelangelo: the Frescoes of the Sistine Chapel, Marcia B. Hall)
“It is only when we consider the Sibyl in relation to this narrative that we understand what she is in fact doing. She is not closing the weighty book, as Vasari says; on the contrary, extending her arms, she is lifting the pages to receive the divine light which God above is separating from darkness. Directly across from her on the other side of God, the side of darkness, the pensive figure of Jeremiah appears appropriately as the very personification of lamentation and woe, brooding on vice, traditionally symbolized by such darkness. By contrast, the more exultant Libyan Sibyl props up her book, elevating it toward the divine illumination separated from darkness by God, her extended arms mirroring the outstretched limbs of the Creator. Looking up at the Libyan Sibyl from the chapel and seeing the way in which both her spiraling shape and extended arms echo these aspects of God's body, indeed imitating them, we understand, through such visual analogy, how Michelangelo is here magnifying the meaning of light at the moment of creation, for it is a spiritual illumination flooding down upon the prophetic, sibylline text, as the Sibyl herself elevates the book, pushing its pages toward God, toward that divine luminosity that foretells grace itself.” (Paul Barolsky, from ‘What is the Libyan Sibyl Doing?’)
