De la jeune Dame et Coindeta sui

The other night I began tinkering with Lancelot’s adventure with the flying chess board. While this has absolutely nothing to do with my current research efforts, having acquired transcriptions of the manuscript I wish to work with, and no longer handicapped by the itsy bitsy pictures of the manuscript, I have found a translator’s paradise, randomly translating passages that I find most interesting. If you know me, you will know my predilection towards chess in medieval literature, making that particular passage all the more enticing. I do plan on blogging my findings soon, but that strand of research is a little more involving, meaning, it would not be feasible right now (of course in an ideal Christene-land I would just spend numerous  hours each day until I have translated the entire series and followed my whims of research into all crevices of rather “trivial” pursuits… *sigh*) Anyway, while running some searches to that end, I came across a mention of Clement Marot, and his “De la jeune Dame qui a vieil mary,” and it instantly reminded me of another poem someone had mentioned over a year ago.

First, here is Marot’s poem, with my translation:

De la jeune Dame qui a vieil mary

En languissant, et en grefve tristesse,
Vit mon las cueur, jadis plein de liesse,
Puis que lon m’a donne Mary vieillard.
Helas pourquoy? rien ne sçait du vieil art
Qu’apprend Venus, l’amoureuse Deesse.

Par un desire de monstrer ma prouesse
Souvent l’assaulx: mais il demande: ou est ce?
Ou dort, peult estre, et mon cueur veille a part
En languissant.

Puis quand je veulx luy jouer de finesse,
Hone me dict: Cesse, ma fille, Cesse!
Garde t’en bien, a honneur prens esgard!
Lors je respons: Honte, allez a lescart:
Je ne veulx pas perdre ainsi ma jeunesse
En languissant.

Of the Young Lady With An Old Husband

Languishing and in grave sadness
Lives my weary heart, once full of joy,
Since I was given an old husband.
Alas why? He knows nothing of the ancient art
Taught by Venus, Goddess of love.

By a desire to demonstrate my prowess
I often advance at him: but he asks: what is this?
Or sleeps, perchance, as my heart sleeps apart
Languishing.

Then when I want to betray him,
Shame says to me: Cease, my girl, Cease!
Guard yourself well, guard your honor!
Then I reply: Shame, away depart:
I do not want to spend my youth
Languishing.

(Side note: A huge thanks to Jenni Nuttall and Sjoerd Levelt who helped me figure out how to put columns in my blog – and I really hope this comes across everyone else’s screen as well).

Since many of the French ballads and chansons are found online, I looked this one up. While I could not find this particular one, I did find several by Clement Marot, performed by George Enescu at l’Accademia di Romania.

Clement Marot has an interesting history and brought much to the French literary tradition, which appears to be a constant with several authors of the time period (e.g. Francois Villon and Charles D’Orleans – who predate him a bit, but are still within range). However, his work departs from those of the previous generation as he is considered to have greatly influence the Pleiade poets through his various experiments with forms. This is immediately evident from his language that celebrates life not like the duke of Orleans who fixates on its juxtaposition to death, nor like Villon, whose poetry is in line with a memento mori. Rather, he abandons these motifs, as well as the artificial archaism that was currently popular. In doing so, the poem, though written circa 1532 is extremely easy to read. For example, while I comment that this is my translation above, it is not terribly different from others – there are very few ways you can translate his straightforward words that bear only slight connotations, and for the most part rely on dictionary definitions.

This particular poem was written only a little over a year before he left France, having now been put in jail twice for supposedly having eaten bacon publicly during Lent. Once he made his way out of France (another commonality between himself and Villon and the duke of Orleans), he composed the Blasons du corps feminin that, just like they sound, glorified the feminine body and also brought him infamy.

clément marot

(Clement Marot, portrait by Corneille de Lyon)

However, as I mentioned, reading Marot’s poem reminded me of another. I am referring to the anonymous 13th century female troubadour ballad, Coindeta sui. This is in no way related to my immediate research, but is far more in line with it (concerning the idea of women finding a means of expression and participating in literary culture), and if nothing else, it serves as a good exercise in translation. When I chanced upon this poem a while back it had already been translated, but I looked up the original and realized the translation I had found was more of a recreation than a pure translation (although it was beautifully done). I have rather pedantic tendencies in my translations, so I thought I would attempt a truer version of the poem, even if it is not as beautiful as the other, and certainly nowhere near as melodic as the original. In fact, after looking up the poem to gain insight into its origin and history, several scholars refused to translate it, believing such an endeavor would be superfluous and destructive to the quality of the original. Nevertheless, here it is:

Coindeta sui

Coindeta sui! si cum n’ai greu cossire
per mon marit, qar ne. l voil ne. l desire.
Q’en be. us dirai per que son aisi drusa,
Coindeta sui!
Qar pauca son, ioveneta e tosa,
Coindeta sui!
E degr’aver marit dunt fos ioiosa
Ab cui toz temps pogues iogar e rire.
Coindeta sui!

Ia Deus mi.n.sal se ia sui amorosa,
Coindeta sui!
De lui amar, mia sui cubitosa,
Coindeta sui!
Anz quant lo vie ne son tant vergoignosa
Q’er prec la mort qe.l venga tost aucire.
Coindeta sui!

Mais d’una ren m’en son ben acordada,
Coindeta sui!
Se.l meu amic m’a s’amor emendada,
Coindeta sui!
Ve.l esper a cui me son donada,
Plang e sospir quar ne.l vei ne.l remire.
Coindeta sui!

En aquest son faz coindeta balada,
Coindeta sui!
E prec a tut que sia loing cantada,
Coindeta sui!
E que la chant tota domna ensegnada,
Del meu amic q’eu tant am e desire.
Coindeta sui!

E dirai vos de que sui acordada,
Coindeta sui!
Que.l meu amic m’a longament amada,
Coindeta sui!
Ar li sera m’amor abandonada,
E.l bel esper que tant am e desire.
Coindeta sui!

I Am Pretty

I am pretty and my heart grieves
Due to my husband, who I neither want nor desire
I will tell you of my desire for love,
I am pretty!
I am petit, young and fresh,
I am pretty!
And deserve to have a husband who brings me joy
With whom I can always play and laugh.
I am pretty!

God save me if I ever loved him,
I am pretty!
I am bitter to love him,
I am pretty!
And when I see him, I feel shame
That I pray death will come take him soon.
I am pretty!

But of one thing my mind agrees,
I am pretty!
If my friend should give me his love,
I am pretty!
This hope is all I have been given,
I cry and sigh for having no sight of him,
I am pretty!

And for this a pretty ballad,
I am pretty!
And pray it is sung everywhere,
I am pretty!
And that other knowing women sing,
About my friend who I want and desire.
I am pretty!

I will tell you of the one thing I agree,
I am pretty!
That my friend has loved me so long,
I am pretty!
To him I abandon my love
And the hope of want and desire.
I am pretty!

I have to say that this was far more difficult for me than previous French poetry – it is of the southern region and relies heavily on dialect.

 

Orally relayed, this is an exquisite poem. However, the content, at least for me, is justified and simultaneously hollow. Of course I understand the plight of the young girl, forced to marry a much older man, against her will. She wishes his demise (and here I believe it has less to do with his actual age as it does with her choice in the matter). Yet, her very real plight is lessened through her superficial excuse. Even aside from my own translation, the typical understanding of “coindeta” relies on a meaning of beauty and youth, with previous adjectives being “lovely,” “fair,” and “graceful.” While she may be all of those things, I think this refrain (“coindeta sui” is repeated three to four times in each of the five stanzas), detracts from her more serious condition of being married off against her will, regardless of either of their physical traits. His age or virility almost seems a pretext to her want for another, which, for whatever reasons, she cannot have (and I am willing to bet there are socio-economic reasons for her being denied a marriage of her choice). In short, regardless of his age or appearance, he was thrust upon her against her will, and thus she sings her unhappy lament at the situation.

 

I was unable to find this exact song as well (although Amazon does sell it). However, here are other lovely songs of the troubadour tradition:

 

Sources:

Chambers, Frank M. An Introduction to Old Provencal Versification. Volume 167.

Medieval Oral Literature. ed. Karl Reichl.

Medieval Women’s Song: Cross-cultural Approaches. eds. Klinck, Anne L. and Ann Marie Rasmussen.

Ouvres Completes de Clement Marot, available from the Harvard Library via Google Books.

Songs of the Women Troubadours. eds. Bruckner, Matilda T, Laurie Shepard, and Sarah White.

Memento Mori

Much like a baby is in awe of its habitat and examines it by literally shoving everything in its mouth, we make sense of our environment through an exploration of our surrounding, starting with ourselves. We remember ourselves through the physical, and this is precisely the theoretical function of the memento mori – a remembrance of our physicality, and more importantly, our mortality.

The concept started in the Middle Ages, and was perpetuated throughout artwork of the period where earthly vanity was juxtaposed with not only the remembrance of death, but the memory of life and consequently that it must end. Through our vanity and joys in life the image of death becomes more pronounced.

Memento mori these days becomes synonymous with images of skulls or grim keepers, harbingers of death existing in corners of paintings to overtly remind those looking of the omnipresence of their mortality. However, my first encounter with the concept was in an undergrad Milton course where the professor took an interdisciplinary approach and began introducing us to contemporary art pieces while outlining the various concepts. I distinctly remember the  lecture on the memento mori that was delivered in conjunction with reading Lycidas in which he showed us Diego Velazquez’s 1656 “Las Meninas.”

Velasquez_Las_Meninas_1656

I have never forgotten this painting. However, despite the various oddities portrayed for the young girl in the middle who is apparently in great need of entertainment, the most memorable is the couple in the mirror – the king and queen. They are perhaps the most notable and important in the room – those of highest standing – whose reflections are barely visible in the mirror. While they rule the entirety of Spain and wield unfathomable power, they are here reduced not to mere mortals, but practically indiscernible images in a fuzzy mirror, much like the rest of us under the same circumstances. They are not the larger than life images we expect of a king and queen in flowing gowns and unimaginable shows of wealth in elaborate and larger than life dress, but rather shadows of themselves, awaiting to be replaced by the young princess in the center of the painting (here is  a more detailed description of the mathematical properties governing this painting).

It is almost as if the couple is receding from the face of existence, slowly disappearing into the backdrop. I have always found this sort of reminder to be more potent than that of the overt skull, or strategically placed object that screams its message of encroaching doom. Yes, we will all at one point or another die, but the subtly of it is far more stunning. Despite worldly wealth or vanity, in the end the king and queen are no different from peasants, and their reflections are unintelligible from another.

Dissertation Problems – All or Nothing…

For those of you who know me, my dissertation is becoming an unwieldy problem. Namely, I can’t get anyone to supervise it so I keep plugging away independently at an institution that doesn’t have a medieval program. The joke is on me I suppose. I mean, I did get myself into this.

Except there are only three people in Southern California who would be able to advise this, and after meeting with a medieval professor the other day, I realize one is unfortunately no longer able to for health reasons, and that leaves two. And both of them are at the same university. While this may sound fantastic, it is also makes the entire process much more high stakes – it’s all or nothing.

I have been meeting with several professors over the course of the last few months finalizing plans for my “big move” while simultaneously continuing forth with my research. Unfortunately, outside of offering editing advice, none of these professors can really help me with the actual content. The earliest any of them can go is the 16th century, and I am working with the 8th to 13 centuries, specifically 1274 – and looking at Anglo-Norman, Anglo-Saxon, and French texts (with an emphasis on paleography and philology within scribal culture).

While this may sound like a done deal, it is far from it. I still need the other university to accept me, and at least one of the professors to agree to supervise me. According to my current professors my methods are fine, and I am doing all the right things. My scores are very good, and I have been literally working around the clock to produce quality material for several purposes (publications, conferences, lectures, etc.). However, I have a few drawbacks, which don’t sound like drawbacks, but they are. I have an MA already (hence all the teaching I do). I was under the impression this was a good thing and I could get straight to work, but I have numerous times been told this is actually not to my benefit since I am denying my perspective institution the opportunity to “mold” me. I don’t think I am doing any such thing – I am very flexible!

Which brings me to my next two points. I may be flexible, but from the sounds of my dissertation topic, I don’t sound like it. As I am editing my proposal for the umpteenth time I am teetering between explicitly stating my interests, and sounding just vague enough to where I leave room to be guided. Since I have been working on this project without supervision I would think there is plenty of room for someone with expertise in the field to shift my perspective. Even though I have written portions of it and completed  loads of research I am pretty sure a lot of it will get discarded and much of my research was simply done for familiarity purposes. One of my professors once advised me that I need to learn to “kill my babies” when it comes to my writing – a process I had quite some difficulty with in my first semester of the MA. I have since learned what it means, and am prepared to do just that – it is part of the writing process, and good writing requires a few good red slashes.

So I am torn – do I tell them “this is what I want to do” or do I leave it ambiguous enough for them to insert their own meaning? What if they superimpose a meaning I never intended and I end up in the same predicament I am in now? I applied to a PhD program as a medievalist. I have been a medievalist since before I could even formally specialize. And now I find myself among other people’s periods…. all lovely in their own right, but not mine as I am scouring libraries at adjacent campuses to find adequate materials on topics of my century, and relying on friends at distant universities for assistance. They have all been unbelievably helpful and generous with their time, but this is not how dissertations are written, and mine needs to find a home.

So I am about to do what graduate students never think they are going to have to do twice, and jump ship because I didn’t do it right the first time. If it wasn’t overwhelming the first time around, this time it is downright frightening. Again… all or nothing. My only consolation is that I am only applying to one place. There is no point playing the “let’s see where I can go” game again, because last time I lost. Don’t get me wrong, I have had an amazing education with just as amazing professors, and I am a firm believer that education is what you make of it. Even when not handed the exact materials because there were no medieval courses offered, I was given the tools to cull out the material myself, and I used them. Unfortunately that only got me so far, and to get to the next level I can’t solely rely on myself.

That is the second problem. I am at times (most of the time) extremely self reliant. I have a hard time asking others for help. Doctoral programs and beyond rely on this time of personality that can self motivate, however, at times you have to admit you need help. This has become such a time for me, and I enlisted several professors to help me. I am extremely grateful at the extent of their willingness and have been terribly diligent at following their advice. After all, I did it my way last time… and well…

There is one point however, where no one can agree. I have had different advice from several of these professors, and from other friends who have successfully completed their doctorate.  Since I am very much gearing towards a rather specific project at a single university, would it be wise to contact the professors I wish to work with and simply ask if it is feasible? I don’t know. Some professors think that is a good approach that would provide me with useful information, while others believe it will harm my chances. I want to know. I want to get excited again. But I don’t want to be, as one professor put it, “inappropriate.” And I honestly don’t know if it is inappropriate or not, but I most certainly do not want to offend people I have unbelievable respect for and whose work I admire and wish to learn from. So once again I find myself walking the fine line between just enough and too much.

How much do I tell them about my project? How many questions do I ask, if any? Do I contact them? Do I not contact them? Do I just submit my material, close my eyes, and hope for the best? I just don’t know, and as the deadline looms closer… well… this is it. All or nothing.