Courtly Love, Poetry, Satire/Comedy

Aucassin and Nicolette

Today is the first day of my “Post Everyday in November” challenge. Click here for more information about the challenge.

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I recently finished reading the 12th-century work Aucassin et Nicolette, a parody of the courtly romance genre written in mixed form (in alternating prose and verse). At the start of the work, Aucassin’s father forbids his son from marrying Nicolette because Nicolette was born a pagan; she was kidnapped from Cartagena (a Sarassin kingdom) by her future godfather and baptized shortly thereafter into the Christian faith. Aucassin is so in love with Nicolette that he neglects his knightly duties. When his father chides Aucassin for failing to live up to the standards of a knight, Aucassin promises to fight his father’s enemies in return for Nicolette’s hand in marriage. The father initially agrees to Aucassin’s request, but later (after Aucassin keeps his side of the bargain), the duke goes back on his word and pretends that he had never made the promise. To prevent further temptation, the duke and the viscount imprison both Aucassin and Nicolette in towers. But Nicolette cannot be restrained. She finds a way out of prison and escapes into a nearby forest.

Despite this surface resemblance to a courtly romance, the anonymous author of Aucassin et Nicolette turns the genre on its head. The damsel Nicolette is described as brave and chivalrous, while Aucassin is sentimental and neglects his knightly duties. Nicolette is valorous despite her lack of experience in warfare. The poem, thus, interrogates traditional standards of courtliness. Furthermore, Aucassin is a Christian with an Arabic-sounding name, while Nicolette is a Sarasin with a Christian-sounding name. This discrepancy between name and identity calls attention to the work’s other subversive elements.

Having finished the book only an hour ago, I do not have any profound observations to share with you. It is, however, clear that a straightforward reading of Aucassin et Nicolette is impossible. Not even the narrative style is consistent. Chapters alternate between prose and verse. Repetition – a common literary device in medieval writing- is present, but with a twist. A prose scene in one chapter is immediately followed by a repetition of the same scene but in verse. Why the change in literary language? Why say the same thing in two different ways?

I keep having to stop myself from calling Aucassin et Nicolette a poem. It is true that some parts are in verse, but prose takes up at least 50% of the work. Maybe I want to call it a poem because I associate the courtly romance genre with poetry. Chrétien de Troyes wrote his Arthurian romances in octosyllabic rhyming couplets.

I love coming across medieval works that play with literary genre and narrative form. I wrote about the Roman de la Rose last year, which also defies a straightforward reading. Like the Rose, Aucassin et Nicolette can be interpreted in many (and even contradictory) ways. Rather than ask, “What is the message?”, it might be more appropriate to consider why the work inspires so many different readings.

Aucassin et Nicolette is a very short work with a relatively simple plot, but it is certainly not a simple work.

Poetry, Religious Texts

“Sabbath, My Love” by Yehudah Halevi (1075-1141)

ריהל ראלי.jpg

“Sholom Loch Yom ha-Shevi-i” (Sabbath, My Love) is a celebration of the Sabbath Day by the 12th-century Spanish Jew Yehudah (Judah) Halevi.

Halevi was a philosopher, a poet, and a physician. The Kuzari, Halevi’s dialogue in defense of Judaism, is considered to be one the greatest philosophical works of the Middle Ages. Halevi’s meditations on Jewish religious and national identity are set against the backdrops of Reconquista Spain and a Jerusalem recently captured by Crusaders.

Sabbath, My Love (Trans. Solomon Solis-Cohen)

I greet my love with wine and gladsome lay;
Welcome, thrice welcome, joyous Seventh Day!

Six slaves the weekdays are; I share
With them a round of toil and care,
Yet light the burdens seem, I bear
For your sweet sake, Sabbath, my love!

On the First-day to the accustomed task
I go content, nor reward ask,
Save in your smile, at length, to bask —
Day blessed of God, Sabbath, my love!

Is the Second-day dull, the Third-day unbright?
Hide sun and stars from the Fourth-day’s sight?
What need I care, who have your light,
Orb of my life, Sabbath, my love!

The Fifth-day, joyful tidings ring:
“The morrow shall your freedom bring!”
At dawn a slave, at eve a king —
God’s table waits, Sabbath, my love!

On the Sixth-day does my cup overflow,
What blissful rest the night shall know,
When, in your arms, my toil and woe
Are all forgotten, Sabbath, my love!

Now it’s dusk. With sudden light distilled
From one sweet face, the world is filled;
The tumult of my heart is stilled —
For you have arrived, Sabbath, my love!

Bring fruits and wine, and sing a cheerful lay,
Chant: “Come in peace, O blissful Seventh Day!”

Medieval Literature, Poetry

Christine de Pisan’s Letter of Othea to Hector

Image result for letter from othea

Christine de Pisan’s Epître Othéa (Trans. The Letter of Othea to Hector) is a late 14th century allegorical reading of different Ovidian tales. A Greek goddess named Othea writes to Hector to give him advice. Hector was a great warrior in Greek mythology, but in the Epître Othéa, he represents the ideal Christian. Othea is Jesus Christ who gives Hector all of the gifts he needs for salvation. Christine not only writes Othea’s letter, she also supplies the reader with a gloss and an allegorical interpretation of the poem. The gloss is a “plain” reading of Othea’s advice. Hector is taught how to be a courtly knight. But the allegorical interpretation places the Greek and Roman myths in a Christian context. Christine uses these pagan stories to teach the three theological virtues (faith, hope, and charity) and to warn against the seven deadly sins.

One example will suffice.

In Ovid’s Metamorphosis, Pygmalion falls in love with a statue he made of a woman named Galathea. He pleads Venus to transform Galathea into a flesh-and-blood woman. After Venus grants his wish, Pygmalion marries the former statue and fathers a child with her. Christine admits in her gloss that there are many possible interpretations to this story, but she favors the one in which Pygmalion is a vain man who has forgotten his knightly duties. He has abandoned his duties for a woman who is deaf to his complaints. Christine does not think that the woman was ever a real statue, but that Galathea was like a statue because she made no demands. Pygmalion was satisfied with this statue-like woman, but a courtly lover should not forget his knightly duties. In all of the glosses, Christine interprets the men as courtly lovers and knights (like Lancelot or Tristram).

The allegorical interpretation that follows the gloss reads Pygmalion as a representation of the sin of lechery. Sexual gluttony was strongly condemned by St. Jerome. In 2 Peter, the person who dies without spots or blemishes on his soul merits heaven.

In the Middle Ages, passages from the Bible were glossed by theological experts (ie. monastics and scholastics). The glosses borrowed from the writings of the Church Fathers to explain the meaning of certain biblical passages. Allegorical interpretations tried to find the spiritual meaning underneath the “carnal” or “plain” meaning of the stories. This allegorical hermeneutic was borrowed from the Platonists and Neo-Platonists, who believed that the external image was merely a window to a greater spiritual meaning. Origen of Alexandria is said to be the Father of this approach to the Bible. Later Christian leaders adopted and modified his interpretations. My favorite allegorical commentary comes from St. Augustine of Hippo. It’s on the Parable of the Good Samaritan. Enjoy! https://soundfaith.com/sermons/47795-augustine’s-commentary-on-the-good-samaritan

Christine’s poem is also interesting because she assumes that wisdom exists in the writings of the pagans. The Middle Ages is known today as an age of intolerance, and there was certainly a lot of intolerance. But until very recently, Christian intellectuals believed that pagan myth and philosophy could be valuable to Christians. Christine writes in the preface to the Epître Othée that the pagans may have lacked divine grace, but their writings contained a lot of wisdom. Without grace, however, the pagans only had a carnal view of the world. They told stories that were true, but they interpreted the truth carnally. They didn’t have the grace to interpret their myths in the context of the Christian Gospel. Medieval intellectuals often engaged positively with the writings of non-Christians.

Finally, Christine’s poem is a celebration of female wisdom. The goddess’ gifts represent the gifts of the Holy Spirit or even the Holy Spirit himself. The Epître Othée is, therefore, also a proto-feminist work addressed to Christine’s misogynistic opponents.

Medieval Literature, Poetry

The Romance of the Rose: Intro/Overview

Image result for romance of the roseLe Roman de la Rose (Trans. The Romance of the Rose) is a nearly 22000 line poem written in the 13th century by Guillaume de Lorris and Jean de Meun. While Guillaume is the author of only the first 4000 lines, he introduces the dream narrative that Jean develops for the final 18000 lines. The Romance of the Rose was second only to the Bible in popularity in the late Middle Ages. References to the poem are found in Dante, Boccacio, and Chaucer.

The plot is quite simple. A lover recounts a dream he had as a young man. In the dream, the lover enters a garden, falls in love with a forbidden rose bud, is banished for his infraction, but finally reunites with the rose bud through the help of Venus and her army. Along the way, the lover-protagonist (Amant), encounters dozens of speech characters (Reason, Shame, Friend, Jealousy, etc) who either help or hinder Amant’s mission. Some characters such as Reason, Friend, False-Seeming, and Nature give long speeches addressing love, marriage, and the use of language.

Should Amant pursue his rose? Does reason play a role in courtly love? What language is appropriate for a lover to use?

While Jean resumes Guillaume’s story, he seems to have a very different vision of love than Guillaume. While Guillaume’s Amant is concerned with courtliness, Jean’s lover is difficult to pin down. The speech characters in Jean’s section problematize Guillaume’s narrative because they seem to promote uncourtly behavior. Often, they parrot misogynistic tropes found in the Fabliaux tradition. Friend, False-Seeming, and Genius spend hundreds of lines insulting women and warning men about female deception, but they don’t seem to have a problem with husbandly infidelity. Indeed, Friend insists that men should hide their mistresses from their emotional and needy wives.

And then there’s the question of authorship. Who’s speaking? Guillaume? Jean? Amant? If the latter, is the lover-protagonist necessarily in agreement with the views of the author? Sometimes the lover-protagonist and the author are one and the same, but at other times (especially in the Jean section), the author is clearly different from the narrator.

Needless to say, The Romance of the Rose was a highly controversial poem in the late Middle Ages. While the poem seems to emulate the structure of 13th century scholastic dialectics (“for” and “against” arguments presented side-by-side and in debate with one another), 15th century humanists assumed a straightforward reading of the text. Christine de Pisan at the beginning of the century wrote a series of letters and treatises condemning the apparent misogyny and obscenity in the poem. She was responding to the humanist fans of the Rose, many of whom considered Jean to be a great and holy theologian (!). Christine’s critics were appalled that a woman would even dare disagree with a group of theologians. But Christine had no tolerance for the misogyny celebrated by defenders of the Rose. Christine’s greatest supporter was Jean Gerson, the Chancellor of the University of Paris and a famous reformer-theologian.

I have just begun reading Christine’s letters in opposition to certain readings of the Rose. So far, I am quite impressed. I will have more to say about her argument once I have finished reading the entire collection of letters surrounding the Rose debate.

Poems, Poetry

Tolkien’s Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Pearl, and Sir Orfeo

I am not going to review J.R.R. Tolkien’s translations of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Pearl, and Sir Orfeo for one simple reason: I cannot. I would give too much away if I were to summarize all three poems. It is better to go into the stories blind. While I enjoyed all three lays, I have neither the background in poetry nor a knowledge of the art of translation to give a thorough review of Tolkien’s work. I will simply leave you with a sample from each poem to whet your appetite. The book includes a reasonably lengthed introduction to the poems. Unfortunately, I have not read it yet. But when I do, I will write a follow-up post so that you are given a proper introduction to Sir Gawain, Pearl, and Sir Orfeo.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

After the season of summer with its soft breezes,
when Zephyr goes sighing through seeds and herbs,
right glad is the grass that grows in the open,
when the damp dewdrops are dripping from the leaves,
to greet a gay glance of the glistening sun.
But then Harvest hurries in, and hardens it quickly,
warns it before winter to wax to ripeness.
He drives with his drought the dust, till it rises
from the face of the land and flies up aloft;
wild wind in the welkin makes war on the sun,
the leaves loosed from the linden alight on the ground,
and all grey is the grass that green was before:
all things ripen and rot that rose up at first,
and so the year runs away in yesterdays many, and here winter wends again, as by the way of the world

it ought,
until the Michaelmas moon
has winter’s boding brought;
Sir Gawain then full soon of his grievous journey thought. (II, 23)
 

Pearl

Both bliss and grief you have been to me,
But woe far greater hath been my share.
You were caught away from all perils free,
But my pearl was gone, I knew not where;
My sorrow is softened now I it see.
When we parted, too, at one we were;
Now God forbid that we angry be!
We meet on our roads by chance so rare.
I am but mould and good manners miss.
Christ’s mercy, Mary and John: I dare
Only on these to found my bliss. (Part 32)

Sir Orfeo

Sir Orfeo was a king of old,
in England lordship high did hold;
valour he had and hardihood,
a courteous king whose gifts were good,
His father from King Pluto came,
his mother from Juno, king of fame,
who once of old as gods were named
for mighty deeds they did and claimed. 
Sir Orfeo, too, all things beyond
of harping’s sweet delight was fond, 
and sure were all good harpers there
of him to earn them honour fair;
himself he loved to touch the harp
and pluck the strings with fingers sharp. (v. 25-38)

Anonymous, Medieval Literature, Poetry

Review of The Crowning of Louis

What was it about?

The Crowning of Louis: A New Translation of the Old French Verse Epic is an epic poem of the William of Orange Cycle, translated from the Old French by the independent researcher Nirmal Dass.Written around 1130, Le Couronnement de Louis recounts Count William Shortnose’s many battles in defense of Pope Hadrian I and King Louis the Pious. Count William, like Roland of The Song of Roland, is a great warrior who protects the young king-elect Louis from traitors who wish to take the throne. At the same time, the Saracens seek to overthrow the papacy and win Rome. This epic poem is chock full of insults and bloody battles fought int the name of God and King.

What did I think of it?

The Crowning of Louis is an obscure epic poem that I borrowed from my university’s research library. While there is nothing outstanding about the story itself, I definitely enjoyed the poem. I started reading it at a coffee shop, but I had to leave after reading the first few pages because I couldn’t stop laughing. So many scenes read like something from the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail. In one battle scene, King William lops off his opponent’s limbs, but, out of mercy, doesn’t kill him. Instead, William and the king embrace each other and depart in peace only to meet again later on horseback! Clearly, the poet had amnesia. The pope’s first challenger, King Galafrez, refers to the Bishop of Rome as the “great lord of the large hat” (vs. 475). King Galafrez promises him, “I shall roast you over coals in a hearth/ Till your liver falls on the heap of coals” (vs. 542-543). The humor is sky high. If you like Medieval battles, you will enjoy The Crowning of Louis. Unfortunately, there are no new copies available online. However, there are some cheap, used copies available on Amazon. It’s amazing what the characters are willing to do in the name of God.

Favorite Quote

All of Rome then cried out in one loud voice,
Along with the Pope, who shook with great dread:
“Saint Peter, lord, protect now your champion.
If he dies, you will be badly reproached.
In your church, where I now presently live,
I shall not sing Mass or read the lessons.” (vs. 1060-1065)

 

Poetry, Tolkien, J.R.R.

Reflections on Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics by J.R.R. Tolkien

TolkienSome weeks ago, I posted a reflection for Literary Flashback on Tolkien’s essay On Fairy Stories. Today’s reflection on Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics will be similar in structure, but it will not be used for tomorrow’s Literary Flashback.

Early this year, I read and reviewed Michael Alexander’s translation of Beowulf. There seems to be a consensus among bloggers that Seamus Heaney was the best translator of this poem. Before reading his translation, I wanted to learn more about the scholarship surrounding the text. As I am currently re-reading The Lord of the Rings and as Christopher Tolkien recently published his father’s translation of Beowulf, this essay piqued my interest.

J.R.R. Tolkien begins his essay by criticizing common approaches to the study of the tenth century Anglo-Saxon poem Beowulf. The scholars of the early twentieth century (whom Tolkien addresses in his essay) valued the text more for its historical significance than for the story itself. “Beowulf has been used as a quarry of fact and fancy far more assiduously than it has been studied as a work of art” (p. 103). Instead of exploring Beowulf through a purely historical or archaeological lens, Tolkien believes that scholars should approach “a poem as a poem” (Ibid). The critics focused so much on the history that they overlooked the form of the story. They thought that Beowulf is a weak epic poem because the history is placed on the outskirts while the spotlight is on a man fighting monsters. Critics were so interested in the details of the story that they had a tendency to miss the overall goal of the poem. The story of Beowulf was well-known to the poet and to his audience. The references to royal families, battles, and betrayals serve to situate the story in antiquity, in a period that had become legendary. “As the poet looks into the past, surveying the history of kings and warriors in the old traditions, he sees that all glory (or as we might say ‘culture’ or ‘civilization’) ends in night” (p. 119).

The writer of Beowulf composed a poem that paid homage to myths and legends of the past. New Christian and Old Norse religious elements are present in the text. It is “a fusion that has occurred at a given point of contact between old and new, a product of thought and deep emotion” (p.117). Once again, Tolkien warns scholars of trying to dissect the poem so as to understand the mythical origins of the story. Similarities between Beowulf and other stories may be accidental (note the “story-telling soup” analogy in On Fairy Stories). There is this tendency in academia to read everything as an allegory, but according to Tolkien, Beowulf is neither an allegory nor an epic poem. It is an elegy. It is a poem written about a hero who has died. Beowulf‘s defeat by the dragon is just as significant as his earlier victories. It is ultimately a commentary on the inevitability of death; “the wages of heroism is death” (p. 122). Tolkien blames the backhanded approach critics take to Beowulf on their prejudice against monsters in literature. The dragons are viewed as silly, childish creatures that have no place in a “serious” poem. But Grendel, Grendel’s mother, and the dragon are described in great detail because the monsters play a very important role in the story. Beowulf has more than a historical significance; it has a universal significance. In the battle of good vs. evil, victory often comes at a cost. “The placing of the dragon is inevitable: a man can but die upon his death-day” (p.128). 

Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics covers much more ground than I can summarize here. I urge you to read the essay for yourself. Reading Tolkien’s scholarly work has helped me better appreciate his fiction. It is incredible how much The Lord of the Rings was influenced by Beowulf and the Eddaic poems of Old Icelandic literature (ex. The Saga of the Völsungs)!

I will leave you with the last lines of the essay:

“There is not much poetry in the world like this; and though Beowulf may not be among the very greatest poems of our western world and its traditions, it has its own individual character, and peculiar solemnity; it would still have power had it been written in some time or place unknown and without posterity, if it contained no name that could now be recognized or identified by research. Yet it is in fact written in a language that after many centuries has still essential kinship with our own, it was made in this land, and moves in our northern world beneath our northern sky, and for those who are native to that tongue and land, it must ever call with a profound appeal – until the dragon comes” (p. 129-130).

Here is the essay.