Birds are not the only animals with natural wings and vibrancy, and therefore, not the only creatures with anatomy that could metaphorically reflect angelic nature. So why is that almost ever winged angel in Christian art is portrayed exclusively with bird wings? Why, for instance, are insect wings so uncommon on angels?
To take an example, butterfly or moth wings. Butterfly and moth wings are notably absent from almost all depictions of angels. However, theoretically, these wings could fulfill exactly the same supernatural role as peacock-feathered bird wings do. For one thing, butterfly wings, and to an even greater extent moth wings, are similar to peacock tail feathers in that they are decorated with natural pseudo-eyes. Ezekiel and the Book of Revelation do not specify that the angels' wings are feathered or birdlike, and a moth wing with the classic eyespots is as technically valid an interpretation of the text as any of existing feathered ones. Moth and butterfly wings achieve the same supernatural effect as bird peacock feathers, and not only because of the eyespots. Like bird wings, butterfly wings also could easily work as a visual metaphor for the angelic ability to transcend the earthly realm through flight, and the naturally vibrant colors and patterns of these insect wings rival even the archangel wings of Jan van Eyck's paintings, and would serve as excellent supernatural representations of the divine Light and Beauty of God. Insect wings also arguably the best supernatural metaphor for the essence of divinity because they are more ephemeral than bird wings: delicate, boneless, paper-thin, and yet the means of their transcendence, to their ability to move between the realm of the world and the sky. Biologically, the structure of insect wings are so fundamentally different from bird wings, which at least have analogous bone and muscle structure to human anatomy, that it is hard to comprehend how humans and insects are related living creatures. This gulf between humans and butterflies could be utilized as a means of conceptualizing humanity's proximity to divinity: butterfly wings represents how far removed God is from the realm of human comprehension, but they also demonstrate the connection humans have to God through nature.
Moth- or butterfly-winged angels are no less "realistic" than any of the bird-winged angels that we see so much of, and yet they are almost impossible to find in Christian art. Angels with butterfly wings are not completely unheard of, and do appear in some contemporary interpretations of angelic form. However, these are exceptions rather than a common trend: While the themes in depictions of bird-winged angels have developed and solidified over the centuries, butterfly-winged angels have always been few and far between.
Far more common than depictions of angels with butterfly wings in Christian art are depictions of demons with butterfly and moth wings, which may come as a surprise. Artists like Hieronymus Bosch and Pieter Bruegel the Elder were particularly interested in portraying demons with the features of insects, including often elaborately decorated butterfly wings. But what is the significance of depictions of demon wings? According to early Christian Doctrine, demons are not separate entities from angels; rather, they are of the same substance, nature, and origin, and the only difference is that they fell from God's grace through their own free will.
That the contrary propensities in good and bad angels have arisen, not from a difference in their nature and origin, since God, the good Author and Creator of all essences, created them both, but from a difference in their wills and desires, it is impossible to doubt. (St. Augustine, 226)
For this reason, any discussion of artistic representation of angelic form should also include demons. Demonic form is, after all, just a complex extension of angelic form. Pieter Bruegel the Elder's Fall of the Rebel Angels charts the physical warping of angelic form as the rebel angels fall from grace. The painting depicts a scene of tumultuous warfare: the archangel Michael and his army of angels lead an attack, driving the newly-fallen demons out of heaven and into the depths of hell. The composition of the painting is split roughly in half: the top half is set against an expanse of open blue of the heavenly sky, where Michael's army swoop on sturdy birds' wings, their human figures clad in flowing robes. The painting descends into roiling shades of brown, and occupying roughly the entire bottom half are the fallen angels, now transformed into squamous, insectile beasts. Instead of bird wings, many of these fallen angels sport butterfly and both wings, a number of which are dotted with staring eyespots. More angels plummet to their lot from the heavenly sphere, their forms already distorted. They are the visual opposites of the angels who pursue them, and they seem to be of a different ilk altogether, but the title of the piece makes it clear: they, too, are angels, even if fallen. This begs the question: what is being expressed in the deformity of the fallen angels? What do their insect wings convey about their relationship to God?
Bruegel's interpretation of insect wings suggest alienation from God and contribute to the view's understanding of the demons' chaotic, bestial natures. However, aspects of their wings intentionally mirror the wings of Michael and his battalion. They are roughly the same size and shape as their relatives' bird wings, and the details of the insect wings themselves as as delicate and fine as the feathers of the bird wings above, even as around them, the painting swarms with crude imagery of gnawing teeth and spewing rectums. Most notable is the demon just below the figure of Michael, who is center frame: this demon faces away from the viewer, and its wings are the main focus of its form. The wings resemble those of a real tiger swallowtail butterfly: detailed, lace-like, and a brilliant cream yellow which reflects the light of the empyreal sun and the white wings and robes of the angels above. Even the darker butterfly wings of its surrounding demons have vivid splashes of color, and of course, they are dotted in the eyespots reminiscent of other depictions of angelic form. Their forms convey that these demons are distortions of angels and distortions of God's love, but they are not at all separate from either.
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-St. Augustine. (n.d.). The City of God. In P. Schaff (Ed.), Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers (1st ed., Vol. 2). https://ccel.org/ccel/schaff/npnf102/npnf102.