The word 'physiognomy' is a compound of two Greek words meaning 'nature', and 'an interpreter'.
Francis Bacon described it as 'discovery of the disposition of the mind by the lineaments of the body'; and indeed this is the aim of portrait painting.
Aristotle wrote extensively on physiognomy, with many comparisons between human and animal characteristics, and many Latin authors discuss it as a descriptive science; but in medieval writings, physiognomy becomes linked with
astrology and necromancy. It was made illegal by George II, in 1743, and earlier Queen Elizabeth had decreed that 'all persons fayning to have knowledge of phisiognomic or like Fantasticall Ymaginacions' were liable to be 'stripped naked from the middle upwards and openly whipped until his body be bloudye'. Nevertheless, Elizabeth set much store on delineation of character in paintings. Our own view, now, is surely as paradoxical, for we generally hold that physiognomy as a science is unfounded and yet we spend a great deal of time reading character from faces and pictures.
There are many examples, from Aristotle onwards, of people looking dull but being bright (and Aristotle admitted it of himself, saying that it was the practice of philosophy that brightened his native dullness), while the converse can also be true. But there are good grounds for associating expression with character traits and habits of thought. The point is that groups of muscles are associated with emotions, moods, and activities, and the use of facial muscles both modifies the countenance and produces permanent changes, such as lines and wrinkles. The first scientific study of this notion was by the distinguished Scottish anatomist–surgeon and neurologist
Sir Charles Bell, whose
Essay on the Anatomy of the Expressions (1806) related specific muscles to
facial expressions.
The idea was developed, with strong evolutionary implications, by
Charles Darwin in his still highly important book
The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals (1872). Darwin dismisses earlier writers on expression and physiognomy, such as the French painter Charles Le Brun (1619–90), who wrote
Conférence sur l'expression des différents caractères des passions in 1667, and the Dutch anatomist Peter Camper (1722–89), but he does give full and just praise to the work of Bell. He also refers to the best known of the physiognomists, Johann Kaspar Lavater (1741–1801), born in Zurich, whose
Physiognomische Fragmente (1775–8; translated by Thomas Holcroft as
Essays on Physiognomy in 1793) went into many editions and was widely read. Lavater is interesting for his many drawings of faces, and his astute comments on the characters and lives of his examples, but there is a total absence of system or theory. Darwin refers also to Burgess's
The Physiology or Mechanism of Blushing (1839), which points out that
blushing cannot be caused 'by any physical means', but that it must be the mind that is affected, 'for if we try to restrain blushing, this increases it'. Finally, Darwin refers to the French pioneer in electrophysiology, Guillaume Duchenne (1806–75), who was the first to describe locomotor ataxia, and was the founder of techniques using electrical stimulation for therapy. Darwin refers to Duchenne's
Mécanisme de la physionomie humaine (1862), in which he 'analyses by means of electricity, and illustrates by magnificent photographs, the movements of the facial muscles'. Duchenne lent and allowed Darwin to copy his photographs, many of which appear in
The Expression of the Emotions. He succeeded in showing the effects of contraction of individual muscles of the hand, and their effects in producing creases in the skin, and, perhaps most significant, in showing which muscles are and which are not under voluntary control. Both he and Darwin were well aware of the problem of how it is that groups of muscles are innervated for behaviour, gesture, and expressions. This could not be investigated experimentally before techniques of cortical stimulation were developed.
The philosopher
Herbert Spencer contributed an account of facial expression and emotion somewhat similar to Darwin's (in
Principles of Psychology, 1855), and Darwin quotes from it with approval:
Fear, when strong, expresses itself in cries, in efforts to hide or escape, in palpitations and tremblings; and these are just the manifestations that would accompany an actual experience of the evil feared.
The destructive passions are shown in a general tension of the muscular system, in gnashing of the teeth and protrusion of the claws, in dilated eyes and nostrils, in growls; and these are weaker forms of the actions that accompany the killing of prey.
Darwin's essential point is that the facial muscles of monkeys are similar to ours, but, as he puts it, 'no one, I presume, would be inclined to admit that monkeys have been endowed with special muscles solely for exhibiting their hideous grimaces'. Rather the 'grimaces' were originally of functional importance — and in many cases still are in us — as when muscles surrounding the eyes contract to protect the eyes from increased blood pressure or from the blow of an assailant. Frequent use of such sets of muscles, either in action or in the simulation of imagination and emotion, will produce, gradually, permanent changes of expression. So there is strong evidence and a consistent theory for a biological basis to physiognomy. It is, however, very far from clear how accurately it is possible to read the subtleties of human character from facial forms and expressions having pre-human functional origins.
It is most curious that expressions of extremely different emotions can be so similar that they are indistinguishable in photographs — unless the context of the situation is available. Pictures of reactions of horror and uncontrollable laughter are easily confused when presented out of context. In normal life, no doubt, it is facial and verbal reactions to events — speed and appropriateness — that are crucially important signals for evaluating character and ability. This is the power of the cinema, for it presents the context of situations, and the timing of responses. There remains a considerable mystery just why and how static portraits convey so much of the character of individuals by their physiognomy. Perhaps sometimes it happens in reverse — a person one knows to be interesting
looking interesting in the picture by association. This might apply for good, evil, or foolishness, or genius. No doubt the '
halo effect' applies to pictures as to people.
(Published 1987)— Richard L. Gregory