Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Sunday, September 17, 2023

Giovanni Boccaccio

Giovanni Boccaccio (1313 - 1375) was eight years old when Dante died, but he revered the man and wrote a biography about him. He even gave a series of lectures in Florence on Dante's works—a first for a non-Classical Era writer. He was more than just a fan of another, however, becoming a treasured poet in hid own right.

Like Dante, Bocaccio wrote in Tuscan vernacular rather than Latin, and he wrote in prose, telling stories that captured the imagination and inspired others, including Geoffrey Chaucer.

Boccaccio grew up in Florence. His father worked for the banking/trading company of the Bardi; Giovanni worked there for a brief time, deciding that it was not a profession to his liking. His father came head of a branch in Naples, taking the family there, and Giovanni persuaded his father to let him study law at what is now the University of Naples (where Thomas Aquinas had been 100 years earlier). Six years of studying canon law taught him that he liked that profession no more than he liked banking.

Two good things came from his time in Naples. One was his love for Fiametta. That was not her name; simply what he called her in his writings. If she existed, she was really Maria d'Aquino, illegitimate daughter of King Robert the Wise of Naples, whom he saw and with whom he fell in love. He wrote a novel about her, and mentions her in many other writings.

The other good thing from his time in Naples was that he began writing. He produced works such as Il Filostrato, about star-crossed lovers during the Trojan War (which became a source for Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde and Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida), and Teseida, nominally about Theseus but dominated by the rivalry of two young knights over a woman (and the source of Chaucer's "The Knight's Tale" in The Canterbury Tales).

He also wrote the first Italian prose novel, Il Filocolo, the story (well-known in Europe) of Florio and Biancifiore, two lovers from different stations in life. Fiametta appears as the "queen" of a "noble brigade" who pose questions to each other about love.

Perhaps his best-known work is the Decameron ("Ten Days"), in which a group of young men and women flee who flee Florence during the Black Death to the hills outside, where they spend ten days telling stories. More on that tomorrow.

Sunday, May 21, 2023

The First Troubadour

William IX, Duke of Aquitaine and Gascony (1071 - 1127), also Count of Poitiers, had a shaky start in life. He was the son of Duke William VIII of Aquitaine and his third wife, Hildegarde of Burgundy; but the duke's earlier marriages and divorces (and the very close relatedness of the parents) caused the Church to declare the young William illegitimate. William senior had to make a pilgrimage to Rome for approval from Pope Alexander II (who wasn't always so obliging in marital questions).

Our subject was also a Crusade leader, but not of a Crusade that gets talked about, or even included in the numbering system: it is simply called the "Crusade of 1101."

He invited Pope Urban II—who had called for the Crusade in November 1095—to his court for Christmas of that year, during which Urban urged William to take up the Cross. William was more interested, however, in whether his rival, Count Raymond IV of Toulouse, would go on Crusade, leaving Toulouse unguarded (he did). William's wife, Philippa of Toulouse, was Raymond's niece, and William thought she could make a claim to the territory. The pair did capture Toulouse in 1098, and were subsequently threatened with excommunication.

What William is most known for now, however, is his career as the first known troubadour. There are 11 songs attributed to him. A 13th century vida says of him:

The Count of Poitiers was one of the most courtly men in the world and one of the greatest deceivers of women. He was a fine knight at arms, liberal in his womanizing, and a fine composer and singer of songs. He traveled much through the world, seducing women.

He did in one song admit to deceiving two women. Several of his songs show an attitude toward women in the courtly love tradition, however, in that the subject is called midons, "master":

Every joy must abase itself,
and every might obey
in the presence of Midons, for the sweetness of her welcome,
for her beautiful and gentle look;
and a man who wins to the joy of her love
will live a hundred years.
The joy of her can make the sick man well again,
her wrath can make a well man die,

Orderic Vitalis tells us that he wrote and performed "witty measures" of his adventures on Crusade, but the only Crusade in which he participated, as mentioned, was the Crusade of 1101. I'll tell you what happened with that tomorrow.

Saturday, May 20, 2023

The Troubadour Styles

Troubadours originally referred to their songs as vers, but over time developed a set of several different specific types of composition. The vers was a love song that later took on the term canso. The newer identifiable genres include:

Alba (called an aube in German love songs or Aubade in French): a "dawn song"; the lament that dawn approaches and the man must depart before the lady's husband discovers them).

Comiat: a song renouncing the lover.

Canso de crozada: a song encouraging the Crusades.

Desdansa: a dance for sad occasions.

Devinalh: a riddle or cryptogram.

Gap: a boasting song.

Maldit: a complaint of a lady's behavior.

Planh: a lament on the death of an important figure (evolved from the Latin planctus, a lament).

Serena: a song expressing impatience, waiting for night to fall so one could join their lover.

Tenso: a debate between two poets.

Viadeira: a traveller's complaint.

Let's look at the man thought of as the original troubadour next time.

Friday, May 19, 2023

The Female Troubadour

The word "troubadour" was masculine, and the feminine form was "trobairitz" (both singular and plural). The term was rarely used, and was first seen in a 13th century Occitan romance, Flamenca. Trobairitz wrote and performed for Occitan noble courts from 1170 to about 1260—significant because up until then known female composers only produced sacred music.

Almost all information we have about them comes from their own biographical lyrics. We know of only 20 or so female poets. They were outnumbered by troubadours by 20 to 1, and their surviving works are about 1% of the total musical works from the 12th and 13th centuries. In fact, of the works of trobairitz that have survived, we have perhaps only a single work from each, except for two women.

The Comtessa Beatriz de Dia (pictured here from a 13th century codex; Dia was a town in southern France) was born c.1140 and died c.1212. She left us 5 works—four cansos and one tenson—one of which is the only trobairitz work with musical notation. (In the case of troubadours, about 10% have musical notation intact.)

The other trobairitz who left us more than one composition was Castelloza, the wife of Lord Turc of Meyronne (in southwestern France). She wrote several cansos about Arman de Brion, whose status was higher than hers. She describes the pain of betrayal:

My handsome noble-natured dear,
I’ve loved you since the day you pleased me.
How great a fool I am is clear.
For you held back, while such love seized me
That I not once have turned away.
Though you repay my good with ill
I’ll stand my ground and love you still,
For love so has me in its sway
That I now doubt my life can offer. [source]

Cansos and tenson were only a few of the types of songs composed by the troubadours and trobairitz. There were also alba, devinalh, gap, planh, ensenhamen, and many others. I'll give you a list next time, in case you want to try your hand at some different styles of song.

Thursday, May 18, 2023

What Makes a Troubadour?

In the years 1100 - 1350, a type of musical performer arose called a troubadour. They did not call themselves troubadours; that term was first used in 1575 to refer to court poets of the 12th and 13th centuries. They almost always referred to themselves as chantaire, "singer." The term "troubadour" is assumed to come from Occitan trobador, from trobaire, "composer," which may be from Late Latin tropare, "to compose, to invent a poem."

The earliest known troubadour whose work has survived was Duke William IX of Aquitaine (grandfather of Eleanor of Aquitaine). He may not have been the first troubadour: it is possible that his political prominence helped him appear to be the start of a tradition, but he may instead have been just one example of an already thriving cultural event. The chronicler Orderic Vitalis records that William composed songs about his experience on the First Crusade. Order also gives us a first-hand account of William performing "many times ... with rhythmic verses and witty measures."

The troubadour phenomenon rose and fell. The 12th century began with few examples of activity, but the final decades saw a burst of output: almost half of the almost 2500 pieces (from a total of about 450 known names) that have survived come from the years 1180 - 1220. Beginning in western Aquitaine, it spread to eastern Aquitaine, then down to Toulouse and Provence. In the early 1200s it reached Italy and Spain.

Duke William was probably the highest-ranking member of society who could be designated a troubadour. Most described themselves as "poor knights," although there was Jaufre Rudel, prince of Blaye in southwestern France.

The troubadours had an "enemy" in the jongleur. The jongleur was not the juggler that the word has become, but was actually a minstrel. The difference is that the minstrel plays songs he has heard from others, although there may be an element of dancing and acrobatics. The troubadour is a poet-composer, a much higher calling requiring skill. Troubadours often wrote attacks on jongleurs. There were, however, many troubadours who also entertained in the manner of the jongleur.

The word troubadour is masculine; a female troubadour is a trobairitz. It would make sense to look at the phenomenon of the female composer in the troubadour tradition next.

Wednesday, May 17, 2023

Peire d'Alvernhe, Poet and satirist

I mentioned that, for all our talk of courtly love in the Middle Ages, the only use of the actual phrase was in a single Provençal poem. The author of that poem was Peire d'Alvernhe, a troubadour born about 1130. He produced 21-24 poems (authorship can be difficult to determine) by 1170. He was known well-enough that Dante names him in the Divine Comedy.

An anonymous biographer tells us he was handsome and charming and wise, and that he spent time in Spain at the court of Alfonso VII of Castile and his son Sancho III. The biographer calls his poems the greatest poems ever except for the slightly later Giraut de Borneill. A contemporary of Peire's, Bernart Marti, wrote a poem in which he accuses Peire of entering a religious life but abandoning Holy Orders.

Not only did he abandon the religious life, he also abandoned the concept that brought us to this blog entry. The reference to courtly love is in a poem in which he praises love of the Holy Ghost over that of cortez amors de bon aire, "well-spirited courtly love." In this preference of spiritual over carnal love he (and others) followed the influence of one of the earliest troubadours whose name we can put to his poetry, Marcabru (active 1130 - 1150).

Of all Peire's poems, modern scholars have spent the most time and effort discussing a particular one: Chantarai d'aquest trobadors ("Song of wandering troubadours"), a sirventes or "service song" used by troubadours to address a particular subject for educational purposes. In this poem he describes a dozen known troubadours, criticizing their looks and their poetry before proclaiming himself their superior. Although critical, it is seen as a good-natured parody, and he ends by telling the listener that it was composed "while laughing and playing."

On the other hand, if the twelve other troubadours were not present to laugh along with their descriptions, would an audience be familiar enough with the others to understand that it was all in fun? On the other other hand, it does give us (as few pieces of medieval literature do) give us information about specific poets we might not otherwise have, allowing us opportunities to identify authorship for some of the troubadours' works.

Peire d'Alvernhe, Bernart Marti, Marcabru, Giraut de Borneill—we have many names of troubadours, but what did they have in common? What made a "troubadour" rather than just a poet? Let's talk about the troubadour life tomorrow.

Tuesday, May 16, 2023

Courtly Love

"Courtly love" is the phrase used to describe a set of "rules" expressed in medieval literature about the relationship of a man (usually a knight) with a woman (usually a noblewoman). First appearing in continental French stories, it became (for some) a way to conduct oneself in a relationship, especially one outside of marriage.

First, a few facts. The phrase "courtly love," the English translation of the French amour courtois, was not routinely used until the late 19th century (introduced by a French philologist). (To be fair, the phrase cortez amors appears in a single Provençal poem in the 12th century.) C.S.Lewis in The Allegory of Love defined it as "love of a highly specialized sort, whose characteristics may be enumerated as Humility, Courtesy, Adultery, and the Religion of Love."

Also, the focus of the practice was not so much about the behavior of the knight as the privilege of the woman. Eleanor of Aquitaine is credited with bringing the courtly love ideals from her home to England when she married Henry II. Eleanor's daughter Marie, Countess of Champagne (by Eleanor's first husband, Louis VII), spread it to the court of Champagne. Troubadours popularized the ideas in their poems and songs.

Courtly love was expressed as a form of feudalism, where the man acts as a vassal of the lady. Addressing her in poetry as his "lord" served two purposes: it showed his willingness to serve, and it hid the lady's name. Courtly love was often a secret love, because it was adulterous: the lover pined for the love of a highborn lady who was often married to his real feudal lord. This "forbidden love" did not stop him from expressing g the utmost courtesy and humility toward her.

Many noble marriages were political arrangements rather than loving unions, and given the daily lives of many noble couples, who hardly spent time together, there were opportunities to see the lady without her husband present, although the presence of ladies-in-waiting precluded consummating physical love.

Andreas Capellanus in the late 12th century wrote De amore ("Concerning Love"), also known as De arte honeste amandi ("The Art of Loving Virtuously"). In it he lists several rules that became entwined with the courtly love idea:

1. Marriage is no real excuse for not loving.
6. Boys do not love until they arrive at the age of maturity.
8. No one should be deprived of love without the very best of reasons.
13. When made public love rarely endures.
14. The easy attainment of love makes it of little value; difficulty of attainment makes it prized.
20. A man in love is always apprehensive.
30. A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved.

Was this a real practice in anyone's life? Did real people engage in these "poetic" affairs (sexuality rarely comes into the subject of courtly love)? Hard to say, although it seems entwined with some of the very real chivalric ideals that were expected behavior on the part of the knight.

That single instance of cortez amors I mentioned was by a poet named Peire d'Alvernhe, who was prolific enough in his time and obscure enough in ours that he is a perfect subject for this blog...next time.

Saturday, May 13, 2023

The Matter of France

This post referred to the Song of Roland as foundational to of the Matter of France. The Matter of France, also known as "The Carolingian Cycle," is a collection of legends and literary works about the origins of the French nation.

It is not unusual to look back in history and perceive a "Golden Age" when life was better and people were more heroic. Charlemagne, because he united much of Western Europe, promoted a rebirth of learning and arts, and spread Christianity, is seen as the cornerstone on which the nation of France was built.

The Matter of France is written about in chansons de geste, or "song(s) of heroic deeds."

A French poet from the Champagne region, Bertrand de Bar-sur-Aube (late 12th - early 13th centuries) divided the matter of France into three cycles of chansons de geste  at the start of a poem about a Count of Paris who was one of Charlemagne's grandsons:

At Saint-Denis, in the great abbey, we find it written (I don't doubt) in a book of noble lineage that there have been only three gestes in well-defended France (I think no-one will argue with me now). [...]

The lordliest is that of the kings of France. [...]

The next, it is right to say, was of Doon of the white beard, he of Mainz who had many lands. [...]

The third geste, which was much to be praised, was that of Garin de Monglane of the fierce countenance. [...]

Doon and Garin are not well-known to modern audiences, but Charlemagne turns up in every European history book. Their stories are different, but the heart of the Matter of France is Christianity (especially against Muslims, who are erroneously perceived as polytheistic) and feudal loyalty. The chansons were largely seen by the Middle Ages as reliable historical retellings.

The Matter of France evolved and spread to other countries. The Song of Roland became Orlando Furioso ("The Frenzy of Orlando") and Orlando Innamorato ("Roland in Love") in Italy in the early 1500s and late 1400s respectively. These works in turn influenced Edmund Spenser's Faerie Queene in England.

More to the point for England and Spenser was the Matter of Britain, which I'll talk about next time.

Friday, May 12, 2023

The Song of Roland

In 778, Basques ambushed the rearguard of Charlemagne's army as it was going northward through the Ronceveaux Pass in the Pyrenees. They had good reason, and they destroyed the rearguard and the baggage train. In the process, according to Charlemagne's biographer Einhard, they killed the "prefect of the borders of Brittany," Hruodlandus. Hruodlandus is translated as the name "Roland."

In the 11th century, a poet writing in Old French produced a 4000-word epic poem, La Chanson de Roland ("The Song of Roland") that turned the incident mentioned briefly by Einhard into the foundation of a literary cycle called the Matter of France. It tells a very different story from Einhard's brief description.

Instead of being pursued by Basques whose chief city of Pamplona had its walls torn down by Charlemagne's army on his way home, the poem has Charlemagne's army fighting Muslims in Spain for seven years. The last holdout is the city of Saragossa, ruled by Marsile. Marsile promises treasures to Charlemagne and that he will become a Christian if Charlemagne will leave and go home.

Charlemagne is satisfied with this. His nephew, Roland, selects Roland's stepfather Ganelon to carry the message of acceptance to Marsile. Ganelon, afraid that Roland wishes him ill by sending him to where Muslims might kill him, betrays them all by telling the Muslims how to ambush Charlemagne's army as they pass through Roncesvalles. The rearguard, led by Roland with comrades Oliver and Archbishop Turpin, finds themselves overwhelmed.

Oliver tells Roland to blow his horn and summon reinforcements. Roland believes that would be an act of cowardice. Roland, however, loves Oliver's sister, so Oliver tells him that Roland will not be allowed to see his sister again if he does not summon help. It is Turpin who ultimately convinced Roland to blow his horn (in the illustration above). Emperor Charlemagne hears the horn and starts back, but takes too long because Ganelon delays him. With Roland's men dead or dying, he blows the horn one more time so powerfully that his temples burst. He is taken to Heaven by angels.

Charlemagne finally arrives, finds Roland and all his men dead, and pursues the Muslims into the River Ebro where they drown. While burying their dead, the Franks are attacked by Baligant, emir of Babylon, who has come to support Marsile. The armies fight, Charlemagne kills Baligant, the Muslims flee, and Charlemagne now conquers Saragossa, returning home with Marsile's queen.

Ganelon's betrayal is discovered, and he is imprisoned; he argues that he acted out of legitimate revenge against his stepson, not treason against the emperor. Although Ganelon's friend, Pinabel, will fight anyone who claims Ganelon is guilty of treason, Thierry convinces the council of Barons that it was treason, since Roland was serving Charlemagne at the time of the betrayal. Pinabel challenges Thierry to trial by combat, Thierry kills Pinabel, Ganelon is executed by having four horses tied to him, one to each limb, and set to gallop.

There are many improbabilities and impossibilities here, not least of which Charlemagne did not become an emperor until many years later, and an "emir of Babylon" is unlikely to appear in northern Spain, thousands of miles west of Babylon. The poem became an important literary and cultural touchstone for medieval France, however. I referred above to the "Matter of France." There were three great "Matters" in the Middle Ages, and I'll tell you more about them tomorrow.

Thursday, September 1, 2022

Medieval Feminism

It is not fair to suggest that there was a "feminist movement" in the Middle Ages, but there were many examples of women who did not conform to what the Modern Age thinks of women in the Middle Ages being forced into "traditional" roles. Hrotsvitha of Gandersheim was one of those examples.

Hrotsvitha was a 10th century nun in the Abbey of Gandersheim who turned her hand to writing poetry, plays, and histories. The illustration, a woodcut by Albrecht Durer, shows her presenting her history of the Ottonian Empire to Otto the Great (he was previously mentioned here and here). As the first to write dramas in the Latin West, as the first female German poet, she became revered as a feminist icon in the 1970s.

Although she writes that any excellence in her work comes from God, not from her, she was not saying that she, as a woman, had no ability to produce excellence. This may have been just a literary convention, or even true humility. In fact, she sees that women taking the veil and taking vows of chastity shows the power of self-determination, rejecting the role of wife and mother that men would put them in.

Encouraged to write plays after reading the Roman playwright Terence, she produced works with female characters very different from his shrews and courtesans. Her female characters are virtuous, courageous, witty, and close to God. Even though she saw women as somehow weaker than men in worldly terms, she considered women more suitable instruments for God to bring about grace and salvation for them and those around them. She saw men as more susceptible to temptation and sin.

Her plays dealt with subjects important to women: marriage, rape, objectification. In Callimach, a man attempts to rape a beautiful woman, who prays for death. This she is granted by God before she can be violated. When the rapist resumes with her corpse, he is bit by a venomous serpent and dies. Dulcitius, aka Passio Sanctarum Virginum Agapis Chioniae Et Hirenae ("The Passion of the Holy Virgins Agape, Chionia, and Irena"), shows how a governor, Dulcitius, is foiled in his passion by three virgins. (You can read the play yourself here. It has fewer than 300 lines!)

Hrotsvitha clearly believed in an ideal of the virginal woman, which some dismiss as merely a Christian construct which prevents women from aspiring to higher goals, but it is argued that she was promoting a model of female integrity that encouraged more positive views of women in 10th century Germany.

Hrotsvitha was alive during the Ottonian Period in Germany, which I have barely touched on all these years. Let's get a better idea of what it was next time.

Wednesday, August 31, 2022

Hrotsvitha of Gandersheim

A nun, a poet, a playwright— Hrotsvitha of Gandersheim has been called the most remarkable woman of her time, but she was hardly known until a manuscript of her works was discovered in 1494.

From information in her writing we can glean that she was born between 930 and 940CE to a well-to-do Saxon family. We do not know what prompted her to "take the veil" and enter a nunnery, but we know she took vows of chastity and obedience but not poverty, presumable because she did not want to give up comforts and freedoms she had grown up with.

In a preface to her poetical works, she writes of her education at the Abbey of Gandersheim:

I was trained first by our most learned and gentle novice-mistress Rikkarda and others. Later, I owed much to the kind favour and encouragement of a royal personage, Gerberga, under whose abbatial rule I am now living. She, though younger in years than I, was, as might be expected of the niece of an Emperor, far older in learning, and she had the kindness to make me familiar with the works of some of those authors in whose writings she had been instructed by learned men.

Among the works to which she was introduced were those of the Roman playwright Terence, and she decided she wanted to try her hand at that genre, making her the earliest known playwright—female or male—in the Latin West. Where Terence wrote women as shrews and courtesans, Hrotsvitha wrote them as innocents who were exemplars of Christian virtue.

She was the first female poet in Germany, writing several works in dactylic hexameter, including a history of the Ottoman Empire. and a history of Gandersheim Abbey.

She was the first Northern European to write about Islam. In her play Passio Sancti Pelagio ("The Passion of Saint Pelagius"), which she says is derived from an eyewitness to the martyrdom of Pelagius of Cordova, she refers to the character of Abd al-Rahman III, the Emir of Cordova from 929-961. Her plays read as dialogues, which means they are labeled "closet dramas" (a play meant to be read out loud, rather than performed). We know, however, that the Abbey enjoyed her writing, and she was asked to read to the other nuns, so it is possible that her plays were "performed" at Gandersheim.

The discovery and publication (in 1501) of her works made her a subject for study. In the 20th century, she became a feminist icon, which means I'll take a deeper dive into her works tomorrow.

Tuesday, August 16, 2022

Fastitocalon

Fastitocalon is the name given to a sea creature in an Old English poem called "The Whale."

This time I will with poetic art rehearse, by means of words and wit, a poem about a kind of fish, the great sea-monster which is often unwillingly met, terrible and cruel-hearted to seafarers, yea, to every man; this swimmer of the ocean-streams is known as the asp-turtle.

His appearance is like that of a rough boulder, as if there were tossing by the shore a great ocean-reedbank begirt with sand-dunes, so that seamen imagine they are gazing upon an island, and moor their high-prowed ships with cables to that false land, make fast the ocean-coursers at the sea's end, and, bold of heart, climb up on that island; the vessels stand by the beach, enringed by the flood.

The weary-hearted sailors then encamp, dreaming not of peril.
On the island they start a fire, kindle a mounting flame. The dispirited
heroes, eager for repose, are flushed with joy. Now when the cunning
plotter feels that the seamen are firmly established upon him, and have
settled down to enjoy the weather, the guest of ocean sinks without
warning into the salt wave with his prey (?), and makes for the bottom,
thus whelming ships and men in that abode of death.

Such is the way of demons, the wont of devils:
The poem then shares a moral, comparing the experience of Fastitocalon with the Devil, who entices men with a promise of safety and security before turning and "sinking" them into their own destruction.

The poem continues, explaining another trait of the monster: when it is hungry, it opens its enormous maw, from which a "perfume" emanates that draws a host of fish inside, when it then snaps its jaws shut. This suggests that sailors may have actually seen a whale opening its mouth to feed.

Fastitocalon is the name given to the creature, but that is the Old English version of the original. The poem (and two others) is found in a Bestiary called the Old English Physiologus, part of the Exeter Book. In the Latin version, the creature is called aspidochelone, combining Greek aspis (shield) and chelone (turtle). The Old English version has become more popular (and familiar) thanks to Tolkien writing a poem of that name in The Adventures of Tom Bombadil.

Where did the story of this giant sea-creature-as-island originate? There is a Greek Alexander Romance written in the first few centuries CE that contains a whale-island anecdote in a letter from Alexander to Aristotle. The first voyage of Sinbad (composed c.8th-9th centuries CE) tells a similar tale. Pliny the Elder talks about enormous fish as well. The Babylonian Talmud and Inuit of Greenland folklore both contains legends of a fish so large that it resembled an island and inspired sailors to land on its back. There are many more examples from different parts of the world.

Even St. Brendan encountered it, and gave it a name that has since been used by the Magic: The Gathering card game. I'll share more tomorrow.

Sunday, August 14, 2022

The Poetic Edda

The Poetic Edda (author[s] unknown) is our name for a collection of narrative poems in Old Norse. It is distinct from the Prose Edda whose author is known, but Snorri Sturluson certainly found a source for some of his stories in the Poetic Edda. Of all the versions that exist, the "common ancestor" is a manuscript called the Codex Regius or Konungsbók ("King's Book"). The Codex was discovered in 1643; it was made a gift to the king of Denmark in 1662; in 1971 it was taken to Iceland, its likely place of origin.

The poems are all alliterative and use kennings. Authorship is impossible to determine, as well as original composition date for most. They were likely orally transmitted over generations before being committed to written form. Dating of a few can be done by internal information. One poem's title, for instance, Atlamál in grǿnlenzku ("The Greenlandic Lay of Atli") could not have been composed before 985, since Greenland had not been settled before that year. Occasionally a poem will mention an actual historical person, indicating the poem's composition obviously later than that person's life.

Another way of dating and locating the poems is by considering the flora and fauna mentioned. If a story contains wolves, for example, it could not have taken place in Iceland. There is always the chance, however, that poetic license was used to enhance a story.

The best-known and most-examined story in the Edda is the Vǫluspá ("Prophecy of the seeress") in which a seeress tells Odin the story of the creation of the world, its coming end, and its rebirth. It exists not only here, but also in another manuscript, and parts are quoted in the Prose Edda. Although dated to the 10th century, prior to the Christianization of Iceland, some think the idea of rebirth after destruction was influenced by Christian ideas of redemption and Heaven.

Speaking of Norse culture, Christianity, literature, and the Eddas, I hope you'll indulge me in discussing their influence on a 20th century Roman Catholic writer and medievalist named Tolkien; but that's for tomorrow.

Saturday, August 13, 2022

The Prose Edda

Written about 1220, the Prose Edda by Snorri Sturluson is a detailed telling of the Scandinavian creation of the world, mythological stories of the gods, the ending of the gods, and other tales besides. It is the most thorough source we have for Norse mythology.

It has four sections. The Prologue tells the basics of the gods, treating them as if they were real people whose exploits became exaggerated over the years. The second part is called Gylfaginning ("The deluding of Gylfi"). Gylfi is tricked by a goddess and tries to sail to Asgard. He winds up elsewhere and is taken to a castle with three kings, who ask him questions about the creation and destruction of the world. After answering, the castle vanishes, leaving him alone.

Part three, Skáldskaparmál ("The Language of Poetry") is over twice as long as part two, and consists of a dialogue between two mythical characters: Ægir (the sea) and Bragi (god of poetry). They discuss the nature of poetry while discussing Norse mythology, and Bragi lists numerous acceptable kennings. A kenning is a phrase that can be used in poetry to stand for something else. An example would be "the wave horse" to refer to a ship.

The last section is Háttatal, ("Tally of Meters"). In it, Snorri explains the different types of verse forms in Scandinavian poetry, using his own works as examples. Rhyme is not as important to this poetry as are number of syllables per line and alliteration.

The origin of the word edda (plural eddur) is uncertain. It is identical to the word for "great-grandmother" in another Eddic poem, the Rígsþula. Another Edda as important to our understanding of Norse mythology and culture is the Poetic Edda. I'll talk about it, and its connection to Tolkien, tomorrow.

Friday, August 12, 2022

Who Was Snorri Sturluson?

Snorri Sturluson (1179 - 1241) was one of several children in a powerful clan. His father died when he was young, and he was raised by Jón Loptsson (or Loftsson), one of the most powerful and respected chieftains in Iceland. Through this connection he had a far better education than he would have received otherwise, learning all about Icelandic history, law, and Norse legends.

Snorri was married in 1199 to Herdis; from his father-in-law he inherited an estate and a chieftainship. He had at least two children with Herdis, but his philandering ways resulted in him leaving her behind to become an estate manager in western Iceland called Reykholt. He fathered at least five more children with three different women.

Known for his knowledge of law, he was made lawspeaker at the Althing, the national parliament of Iceland. He was also known, however, as a poet, and it was that reputation that garnered an invitation to Norway from King Hákon Hákonarson. He was given gifts and a ship, and he wrote poetry about them. the king made him a skutilsvein (knight), and hoped Snorri's loyalty thereby would help Hákon extend his realm to Iceland, by having Snorri speak on his behalf in the Althing.

Unfortunately for Snorri, his attempts to join Iceland to Norway, even as the most powerful chieftain in Iceland from 1224 to 1230, turned much of the island against him. Snorri eventually realized he did not want to support Hákon's plans, and while meeting with the king back in Norway in 1238 famously said (supposedly) "ut vil ek" (literally "I wish out" or "I want out" but idiomatically meaning "I will go home"). He returned to Iceland in 1239.

Snorri became a target of assassination when Hákon sent men with orders to kill or capture him. In 1241, he was confronted in his house in Reykholt. Cornered in the cellar, he died after saying "Do not strike!" to his attackers. The manner of the well-known poet's death raised the ire of people in both Iceland and Norway, and the king backtracked, saying he would have lived had he simply given himself up for capture. (In 1262, the Althing ratified union with Norway.)

Regarding his poetry: Snorri's most consequential work was the Prose Edda, which gives us the most detailed information on the non-Christian religious beliefs of the Scandinavian world. I will go into more on that next time.

Saturday, May 7, 2022

Valkyries

Everyone is probably familiar with the valkyries, the "choosers of the slain" in Norse legend. They didn't just carry the dead to Valhalla, however. Norse soldiers who died in battle had two possibilities: Valhalla or Fólkvangr.

Fólkvangr (Old Norse "folk field") was the domain of Freyja, Odin's wife and goddess of love, beauty, fertility, sex, war, gold, and seiðr. (Going forward, when you see the character ð, pronounce it as a voiced th, as in these.) There she sits in her hall Sessrúmnir (Old Norse "seating room"). Besides warriors, Egil's Saga (composed in the 13th century) has a non-warrior woman remarking that she will not taste food again until she dines with Freyja.

The other half of slain soldiers are carried by valkyries to Valhalla. There they are called the einherjar (Old Norse "once fighters") who prepare for the final battle at Ragnarök. Valkyries in Valhalla serve mead to the einherjar.

Visual depictions of valkyries are ... vague? We have Viking Age art with women in it that could be valkyries, but we just don't know. Silver amulets with women holding drinking horns are numerous, especially in graves. A silver-gilt figurine found in Denmark and dated to 800 CE shows a female with bare arms holding a shield and sword. When you look for females carrying drinking horns, you will find them all over Northern Europe, in metal and carved on rune stones.

Outside of Scandinavia, the Anglo-Saxons also had a similar concept. The Old English word wælcyrge might have been a loan-word from Old Norse or an independent idea. The charm "For a Swarm of Bees" seems to compare a swarm of bees to a ride of the valkyries.

How did the idea of female choosers of the slain arise? We'll never know for certain, but some scholars think they were originally demonic entities who swarmed over the dead in battlefields. As concepts shifted and battle became more glorified, warriors were honored with an afterlife. Getting to that afterlife required a mechanism, and the demonic entities connected with death became noble entities carrying fallen soldiers to their reward. They go from Furies to Norns, involved in the fate of warriors.

It is likely that poetry helped re-shape the idea and function of the valkyries. Njal's Saga is an Icelandic saga that describes events between 960 and 1220. It describes an incident in which a man secretly observes valkyries at a loom, weaving and singing about who will die at the Battle of Clontarf (Dublin, 1014 CE). They then ride off, singing "start we swiftly with steeds unsaddled—hence to battle with brandished swords!"

If you were to search, say, Facebook for the name "Valkyrie," you would find several. Whether that is a given name or a nickname the person has chosen for herself isn't clear. I personally know an actual "Valkyrie" who reads this blog. Hi, Kyrie!

And now for something completely different: the Battle of Clontarf. See you tomorrow.

Sunday, April 17, 2022

Robert de Boron

Robert de Boron was a French poet of the late 12th/early 13th centuries. There are two texts in Old French that are definitively attributed to him: Joseph d’Arimathie and Merlin. Two other texts are attributed to him with uncertainty, although similar in style: Perceval and Mort Artu ("Perceval" and "Death of Arthur"). Together they are called the Robert Cycle, or The Romance of the History of the Grail.

In Joseph d’Arimathie, de Boron merged the legend of the grail with Christian concepts. The magical grail first appeared in Chrétien de Troyes' Perceval, le Conte du Graal in about 1190, but it was not a Christian item. de Boron explained it as the cup used at the Last Supper, and then used by Joseph of Arimathea to catch Christ's blood at the Crucifixion. Later, Joseph creates a company that brings the grail to Britain to Avaron, called Avalon by later writers, and then identified with Glastonbury; Joseph himself does not come to Britain. (Why a French poet would have the precious grail and its contents go to Britain is a mystery.)

The story of Merlin introduces several new elements to the Arthurian legend. One is that the poem purports to be from a book by Blaise, who was dictated to by Merlin himself. (The illustration above shows Merlin dictating while Blaise writes.) The element that most interests us right now is that of the last part of the poem: Arthur's fitness to be king results from being the only one who can withdraw a sword that has been sunk into a stone. This is the first time such an event was introduced into the Arthur story. It is not, however, the first time we have seen the image of a sword in a stone.

Yesterday's post on Saint Galgano told the miracle of the sword in the stone, and that the sword is still in the stone and viewable by all. This would have taken place by 1181, the year of Galgano's death. de Boron is most likely to have been writing after that date. Stories of a miraculous sword embedded in stone would certainly have spread, and since de Boron (and other writers about Arthur) seem to have no difficulty in adding fanciful elements to the legend, it is highly likely that de Boron took a legend that was spreading throughout Europe and imagined it as a test of fitness sent by divine powers.

But while we are in the subject of the Grail, did you know it was once thought to be a stone? One more dip into the fanciful before we return to more grounded topics.


Thursday, February 10, 2022

Eustache Deschamps

Somehow, in 770 posts on this blog, I never talked about Eustache Deschamps before. He was an extremely prolific poet who lived from 1346 until 1406/7. Born in northeast France, he studied under Guillaume de Machaut (about whom I have posted). Then, after studying law at Orleans University, he became a diplomatic messenger for King Charles V. He was granted other significant titles and duties during his life, including governor of the the commune Fisme.

Fisme suffered during the Hundred Years War between the English and French, and for this and other reasons Deschamps hated the English, using his poetry to express his feelings.

Deschamps wrote over 1100 ballades. To be fair, ballades were fairly short. The medieval ballade consisted of three eight-line stanzas with a repeating refrain. Most of them are satirical attacks on the English. He had praise for one Englishman though: he wrote one ballade praising Geoffrey Chaucer as a philosopher and poet. Chaucer, in turn, was inspired by Deschamp's one long poem, over 12,000 lines o the subject of women.

He also wrote a treatise on French poetry, in which he outlined the "rules" for different kinds of verse. He also shares his theory about music versus poetry. Music he considers "artificial" because anyone can learn it (it was a major course of study in universities), whereas poetry was "natural" because without being born with the talent for poetry, you would not be any good at it.

At least one line of his you might have heard. He wrote "Friends are relatives you make for yourself."

Next, I want to tell you a little about his university.

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

A Day Late, A Dollar Short

Abu ʾl-Qasim Ferdowsi Tusi (940 - 1020) was a Persian poet, creator of the longest single-author epic poem in the world. The poem in question, the Shahnameh [Persian: "Book of Kings"] is the national epic of Iran.

Tomb of Ferdowsi [link]
The reason for its length might not have been only because of the grandeur of the subject matter. The legend of Ferdowsi is that he was offered one gold piece per couplet by the Sultan. This sounds like a set-up to a story, but it is not as ludicrous as you might think. The Sultan, Mahmud of Ghazni (971 - 1030), was known for numerous plundering expeditions into India, whence he gained the wealth to promote culture back home. He built a library, a museum, and a university.

Ferdowsi asked that the payment come as a lump sum when the work was finished and in the hands of the Sultan. Shahnameh was completed on 8 March 1010. When the Sultan would have paid, the courtier assigned to deliver the 60,000 gold pieces decided to deliver silver pieces instead. The poet was enjoying a bath house when the money was delivered, and was so insulted by what he thought was the Sultan's reneging on their deal that he gave the money away to the bath house staff. The courtier told the Sultan that Ferdowsi had insulted him by giving away his payment, so Mahmud threatened execution. The poet fled into exile and wrote a satirical poem about Mahmud.

Eventually, Sultan Mahmud learned of the deception perpetrated by his courtier on the poet, and banished the courtier (or maybe executed him; we are not sure). Many years later, Ferdowsi wished to return to his home, the city of Tus. Sultan Mahmud assembled 60,000 gold pieces and sent them to Tus. As the servants bearing the long-awaited payment entered the gates of Tus, the funeral procession of Ferdowsi was departing. He had died of heart failure the day before.

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Ars nova

from Italian manuscript J. IV.115,
an example of Ars Nova notation
Beginning in the early 1300s there was a change in musical style, an evolution from monophony (a single melody) to polyphony, in which two or more lines of melody intermingled. The result was to give music a richer, more expressive sound.

The Church didn't like it.

Pope John XXII rejected it (as he tried to reject elections of which he did not approve). The sacred monophonic chant of the Church was being mixed with secular tunes. Music was becoming "fancy" and "frivolous" in ways that did not suit the pope.

The new style caught on, however, and there was no turning back. Two books describing the new technique helped to spread the new ideas. They were Ars novæ musicæ [New technique of music] by Jean de Muris c. 1320, and Ars nova notandi [New technique of musical notation] by Philippe de Vitry in about 1322. Because of these titles, 20th century historians refer to this style and period of time in music (the 14th century) as the Ars Nova. This new style developed at the same time in France and Italy. In France, one of its greatest exemplars was the poet Guillaume de Machaut. A sample of his musical composition is found in this post.

Among the new forms of non-sacred music given to us by the Ars Nova are the Madrigal, usually a song of love for two voices, and the Ballad, a story with a non-religious theme which was meant to be sung in public. The music in the manuscript of the Roman de Fauvel is an example of Ars nova.