The Romance of the Rose, Part 2

The title of this blog post is almost "literal" in the sense that the Roman de la Rose was written in two parts: one by Guillaume de Loris in the first half of the 13th century and the second by the poet Jean de Meun in the second half. Jean saw nothing wrong with taking what Guillaume had written and adding to it—in fact, adding four times the number of lines as the original—but also changing its themes to those of personal interest to him.

Jean added new allegorical figures such as Nature and Genius, and continued the conversation about the nature of Love and its affect on the narrator. More than that, however, was a cynical approach to other topics, mocking many of the people and conventions of his society.

He attacks the priesthood, monastic orders, and the papacy, considering the Church's fairly recently push to outlaw clerical marriage. He attacked the mendicant orders: they had begun to push into the universities, becoming teachers and threatening the seniority of the secular clergy. He also mocks the nobility and the pretensions of royalty in a pre-echo of the 14th century's peasant's cry of "When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?"

He also took the opportunity to express cynical views on women and marriage. He offered his list of women's vices and how men could avoid their traps. Although this may have been entertaining to some readers, as the work became popular it was attacked by many writers of the 14th century, such as by Jean Gerson, Christine de Pizan, and Pierre d'Ailly.

One of its aspects that may have helped its duplication and distribution is that the (second) author had a broad knowledge of current scientific and literary knowledge. He packs into the total work a lot of references to classical authors and historical events. In fact, it is a reference to a specific event that helps place the composition: the execution of Conradin by Charles of Anjou in 1268, so the poem was completed after that date and before Jean's death in 1305.

Despite the hostility it received from some quarters, it was enormously popular. Chaucer made a translation called The Romaunt of the Rose, which he mentions in his poem The Legend of Good Women, but the extant version of The Romaunt of the Rose that we have may not have been produced by Chaucer, since parts of it differ stylistically from Chaucer's other works.

Back to the hostility, however, and a contemporary of Chaucer: Christine de Pizan is considered one of the earliest feminist writers, and we should talk about her more. We'll start that conversation next time.

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.

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.