don't believe your wife if she tells you you're dead

peasant with questioning look

Many husbands believe whatever their wives tell them. That’s a mistake. Husbands should learn from a peasant living in Bailleul in thirteenth-century France. His wife told him he was dead. He believed her. As a result, he was cuckolded before his very own, living, seeing eyes.

While the husband was out working in the fields, his stay-at-home wife planned an amorous engagement with a local pastor. She cooked a chicken, baked a cake, and readied some wine for romancing. Unfortunately, her peasant husband returned home early, tired and hungry. His wife’s joyful meal seemed to be spoiled.

Women, however, are far superior to men in guile. Acting out her wish that her husband were dead, to him she said:

Milord, God bless my soul,
How weak and pale you seem to me!
I swear you’re only skin and bone.

Her husband, without understanding, said that he was starving. She responded:

I know for sure you’ll soon be dead;
a truer word you’ll never hear.
Now go to bed; you’re dying, dear.
Oh, woe is me! When you are gone,
I’ll lack the will to carry on,
because you’ll be away so far.
Oh sire, how very pale you are!

She prepared for him a bed of straw and hay in a corner of their one-room home. Then she undressed him, had him lay down with his mouth and eyes closed, and covered him with a sheet. She then lay on top of him and lamented that he was dead:

May God have mercy on your soul!
Oh, how can a wretched wife console
herself, and keep from dying too?

The peasant believed his wife. He believed that he was dead.

His wife then fetched her lover-priest. He came and read some psalms. She beat her palms against her breast, but didn’t manage to weep. The priest then undressed her and laid her down on some straw:

the two of them were soon enmeshed,
with him above and her below.
The peasant saw the whole tableau
while lying underneath the covers;
open eyed he watched the lovers,
clearly saw the straw-sack jumping,
saw as well the chaplain humping,
knew it was the chaplain too,
and raised an awful hullaballoo.

The peasant shouted that if he weren’t dead, he would pummel the priest to hell. The priest sternly instructed the peasant that since he was dead, he should keep his eyes closed. Understanding, but not, the peasant then tried to act dead. Meanwhile, his wife and the priest continued with the activity that creates new life.

Like the peasant from Bailleul, men in general are too willing to accept being consigned to death. In the Middle Ages, stories helped to enlighten men about real life. Those stories are too important to be suppressed today.

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Notes:

The story above recounts Jean Bodel’s thirteenth-century French fabliau, The Peasant from Bailleul (Le vilain de Bailleul). The quotes above are from the Old French translation of Harrison (1974), pp. 391-9. For an alternate translation, Dubin (2013) pp. 497-502. The Old French text is available online. Here’s a bibliography about The Peasant from Bailleul.

[image] Peasant with questioning look. Detail from the painting The Baker’s Cart. Jean Michelin, 1656. Held in Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York), accession no. 27.59. Thanks to the Met and Wikimedia Commons.

References:

Dubin, Nathaniel. 2013. The fabliaux. New York: Liveright.

Harrison, Robert L. 1974. Gallic salt: eighteen fabliaux translated from the Old French. Berkeley: University of California Press.

witch-hunt and gender: when women are executed like men

men lynched

The witch-hunt is a revealing social construction. Consider the prestigious Oxford Handbook of Witchcraft in Early Modern Europe and Colonial America, published in 2013. It includes a chapter on witchcraft and gender. The concluding sentence of that chapter declares:

As long as the overall power of patriarchy remained firm, ruling male elites could countenance the executions of a minority of men, along with a much greater number of women, in their endeavour to rid society of witches. [1]

Is society now firmly under the power of patriarchy? Has society now rid itself of witches? What does the firmness of the power of patriarchy have to do with executing “a minority of men” and ridding society of witches? These questions point to fundamental failings of much scholarly work on witchcraft and gender. As an insightful witch-hunt scholar observed, “for over a century scholars have been explaining a phenomenon that never existed.”[2]

Men leaders ordering men to be executed has been the overwhelmingly dominant gender structure of capital punishment throughout history. Violence against men was so prevalent in medieval Europe that among the high nobility, men’s lifespans were on average twelve years shorter than women’s lifespans. In England and Wales since 1715, about 12,500 persons have been executed. Nineteen times more men than women have been executed. In the antecedent colonies and the U.S. since 1608, about 15,400 persons have been executed. Forty-two times more men than women have been executed.[3]

In early modern Europe, capital punishment was less gendered toward men. The sex ratio of executions depends on how gender differences in actions relate to the criminal code. The issue is much broader than the criminal difference between a woman inciting a man to kill a man, and a man actually killing a man. Petty theft, horse theft, poaching, apostasy, sodomy, bestiality and many other offenses carried the death penalty in particular jurisdictions. In England in 1800, 220 offenses under what came to be known as the Bloody Code carried the penalty of death. A broader scope of capital offenses tends to be associated with a lower sex ratio of executions. In early modern Europe, the available evidence suggest that roughly five times more men than women were executed.[4]

Executions of witches reversed the overall pattern of executing many more men than women. In early modern Europe, about three times more women than men were executed as witches.[5] Execution of persons as witches seems to have occurred opportunistically within complex, highly localized configurations of power and interests. Given that much of medieval criminal justice is now regarded as irrational, brutal, and oppressive, the distinctive historical narrative of the witch-hunt rests largely on its extraordinary gender structure. Instead of men leaders ordering executed many more men than women, for medieval crimes associated with witchcraft, men leaders ordered executed many more women than men. That gender reversal came to define extraordinarily irrational justice — the witch-hunt.

Across centuries, the number of persons executed as witches were a small share of persons executed for any reason. In early modern Europe, the share of persons executed as witches was probably less than 10% of persons executed for all reasons across long periods. A plausible rough estimate for persons executed for any charge in England and Wales from 1400 to 1700 is 30,000. The total number of witches executed in England and Wales was about 1,500.[6] During the seventeenth century in the colonies antecedent to the U.S., about 36 persons were executed as witches. Among those executions, 20 resulted from the Salem witch trials of 1692 and 1693. The total number of persons executed for any reason in the colonies antecedent to the U.S. in the seventeenth century was 162.[7]

Since the eighteenth century, influential writers have greatly exaggerated the number of persons executed as witches. In the mid-eighteenth century, a Catholic priest stated that 30,000 witches were executed in the fifteenth and sixteenth century. Voltaire about that time put the number at 100,000.  However, in 1784, the German scholar Gottfried Christian Voigt sought to promote Enlightenment ideals and prevent a resurgence of ignorance, barbarism, and shameful superstition. To promote that effort, he estimated that 9,442,994 persons were executed as witches in Europe from the seventh century to the end of the seventeenth century. He extrapolated that estimate from his estimate that 40 executions of witches occurred in a particular German town between 1569 to 1589.[8] Voigt’s extrapolation is completely unreasonable. So too is the precision with which he reported his result. Drawing upon extensive historical research, the best estimate is now that about 50,000 witches were executed in Europe (including Russia) since 1400.[9]

Other writers have used Voigt’s unreasonable estimate opportunistically. In a book published in 1893, a American women’s rights activist and proponent of matriarchy declared:

It is computed from historical records that nine millions of persons were put to death for witchcraft after 1484, or during a period of three hundred years, and this estimate does not include the vast number who were sacrificed in the preceding centuries upon the same accusation. The greater number of this incredible multitude were women. [10]

A German populist leader, who was an early German supporter of Adolf Hitler and the wife of a German general, cited the estimate of nine million witches executed in her 1934 pamphlet, Christliche Grausamkeit an Deutschen Frauen (Christian cruelty against German women). The myth of enormous historical persecution of women witches became an important element of Nazi propaganda.[11] After World War II, U.S. feminists took up the figure. An influential U.S. feminist declared:

It is hard to arrive at a figure {the number of witches executed} for the whole of the Continent and the British Isles, but the most responsible estimate would seem to be 9 million {italics in original}. It may well, some authorities contend, have been more. Nine million seems almost moderate when one realizes that The Blessed Reichhelm of Schongan at the end of the 13th century computed the number of the Devil-driven to be 1,758,064,176. A conservative, Jean Weir, physician to the Duke of Cleves, estimated the number to be only 7,409,127. The ratio of women to men executed has been variously estimated at 20 to 1 and 100 to 1. Witchcraft was a woman’s crime. [12]

Promoting the myth of an enormous historical gynocide — the witch-hunt — is a potent tool for promoting man-hating. That obvious reality is scarcely acknowledged among scholars who continue to take seriously such work and its associated ideology.

Witch-hunt history has tended to naturalize the vastly gender-disproportionate punishment of men. Could three times more women than men have been executed in early modern Europe without a “witch-hunt”?

*  *  *  *  *

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Notes:

[1] Rowlands (2013) p. 466. Risibly pretending to report with objective detachment, Rowlands states:

The antipathy many academic historians feel towards feminism in general and radical feminism in particular can be counterproductive, however, as it discourages them from engaging with any helpful insights feminism offers into the gendering of witchcraft prosecutions, particularly in relation to the analysis of patriarchy.

Id. p. 453. The only interesting aspect of that statement is the dubious claim that many academic historians feel antipathy “towards feminism in general and radical feminism in particular.” Prudent academics today surely wouldn’t express such antipathy. Highly successful academics know to declare, “we are all feminists now.” See note [3] in my post on sex, violence, and the Enlightenment’s failure.

Drawing upon Rowlands’s logical structure, a more interesting statement can be constructed:

The antipathy many academic historians feel towards meninism in general and radical meninism in particular can be counterproductive, however, as it discourages them from engaging with any helpful insights meninism offers into the gendering of witchcraft prosecutions, particularly in relation to the analysis of gynocentrism.

If A Voice for Men is considered to represent radical meninism, it is much less hateful and attracts much more antipathy than the radical feminists that Rowlands chose to review and reviews in matter-of-fact style at id. p. 451.

[2] Nenonen (2014) p. 17.  Nenonen insightfully observes:

How is it possible that a central question in witchcraft research {the question of gender} had been handled so badly as late as the end of the twentieth century? In much of the research the very idea of male witches in the early modern period had been considered almost a categorical impossibility. If such a huge mistake could be made about such a simple question by several researchers, it is difficult to avoid the suspicion that other ideas based on preconceptions were also followed without any attempt at a critical analysis. And this is indeed the case.

Id. pp. 18-9.

[3] See executions by sex in antecedent colonies and U.S. since 1608, and executions by sex in England and Wales since 1715. Rowlands (2009) concludes:

We need to know more about … the mentalities and masculinities of the witch-hunters.

Id. p. 24. She also seeks to explain, “why many men found it hard to oppose the horrors of witch-hunting, either in writing or reality.” Id. p. 23. The witch-hunters were largely the same group of men who directed the execution of many more men than women. Why do many persons show so little concern about men’s deaths?

[4] See, e.g. Evans (1996) p. 44, and the execution statistics for England and Wales.

[5] See data and citations in note [1] of my post on Malleus Maleficarum.

[6] Executions in England and Wales from 1715 to 1790 averaged 106 per year. The historian J.S. Cockburn opined that the execution rate varied little from 1560 to 1790. At an average of 100 executions per year for three centuries, executions totaled an estimated 30,000.

According to William Harrison’s preface to the Holinshed’s Chronicles (published in 1577), Henry VIII (reigned 1509 to 1547) had 72,000 thieves and rogues hung. Holinshed’s Chronicles, Bk. 2, Ch. 11:

It appeareth by Cardane (who writeth it vpon the report of the bishop of Lexouia) in the geniture of king Edward the sixt, how Henrie the eight, executing his laws verie seuerelie against such idle persons, I meane great theeues, pettie théeues and roges, did hang vp thréescore and twelue thousand of them in his time.

The Bishop of Lisieux actually claimed that Henry VIII had 72,000 thieves executed during the last two years of his reign. Harrison & Edelen (1968) p. 193, ed. fn. 8. That claim isn’t credible, but acceptance of it suggests recognition in the sixteenth century that Henry VIII executed an extraordinarily large number of persons.

For the estimate of 1,500 witches executed in England and Wales since 1400, Hayton (2011), data appendix. Other sources have similar estimates.

[7] For the number of witches executed in the seventeenth century in the colonies antecedent to the U.S., Godbeer (2013) p. 393. Executions for all causes are totaled from acrosswalls.org U.S. execution statistics compilation.

[8] All the information on the eighteenth-century witch execution estimates is from Behringer (1998).

[9] Behringer (2004) pp. 149-51, Briggs (2006), Hayton (2011). Briggs (2006) notes:

Although a margin of error must always remain, it is hard to see how the figures could be plausibly increased {from 50,000} by more than 20–30 percent on the most generous assumptions about missing evidence.

Executions for witchcraft in Europe were most common between 1570 and 1630. Very few executions for witchcraft occurred after 1780 in Europe and in areas of European settlement in North America. Hence witch execution estimates for 1400 to 1780 apply equally well for 1400 to the present.

[10] Gage (1893) p. 247.

[11] Behringer (2004) pp. 234-7.

[12] Dworkin (1974) p. 130. Dworkin further states:

The literal text of the Malleus Maleficarum, with its frenzied and psychotic woman-hating and the fact of the 9 million deaths, demonstrates the power of the myth of feminine evil, reveals how it dominated the dynamics of culture, shows the absolute primal terror that women, as carnal beings, hold for men.

Id. p. 136. Dworkin’s projection of hate onto the other is paradigmatic. She invokes “9 million” deaths a third time at id. p. 141. Her disengagement from reality is also apparent in her historical fantasies about the Malleus Maleficarum:

It {Malleus Maleficarum} had been read by every judge, each of whom would know it chapter and verse. The Malleus had more currency than the Bible. It was theology, it was law. To disregard it, to challenge its authority … was to commit heresy, a capital crime.

Id. p. 129. Another scholar added a patriarchal-conspiratorial twist: “The massacre of millions of women as witches is erased in patriarchal scholarship.” Daly (1978) p. 8. Such hate-inspiring falsehoods have persisted. The top-ranked article on Google for the search “how many witches were killed” is Greg Laden’s highly unscientific Scienceblogs post on the subject. His opinion: “I think 9 million is high but 1 or 2 million would not surprise me too much.” Such views of the witch-hunt aren’t surprising given current public ignorance about interpersonal violence.

Hateful claims about the witch-hunt against women parallel modern hateful claims about domestic violence against women and rape of women.

[image] Three men lynched: Jim Redmond, Gus Roberson, and Bob Addison. May 17, 1892, Habersham County, Georgia, U.S. Image thanks to Wikimedia Commons.  In the U.S. from 1882 to 1930, 4,585 persons were lynched. Men lynching victims outnumbered women lynching victims by a factor of thirty-four to one. Lynching isn’t generally described like the witch-hunt.

References:

Behringer, Wolfgang. 1998. “Neun Millionen Hexen. Enstehung, Tradition und Kritik eines populären Mythos.” Geschichte in Wissenschaft und Unterricht 49: 664–85.

Behringer, Wolfgang. 2004. Witches and witch-hunts: a global history. Cambridge, UK: Polity Press.

Briggs, Robin. 2006. “Number of Witches.” Entry in Golden, Richard M., ed.  Encyclopedia of witchcraft the Western tradition. Santa Barbara, Calif: ABC-CLIO.

Daly, Mary. 1978. Gyn/ecology: the metaethics of radical feminism. Boston: Beacon Press.

Dworkin, Andrea. 1974. Woman hating. New York: Dutton.

Evans, Richard J. 1996. Rituals of retribution: capital punishment in Germany, 1600-1987. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Gage, Matilda Joslyn. 1893. Woman, church and state: a historical account of the status of woman through the Christian ages, with reminiscences of the matriarchate. New York: Truth Seeker Co.

Godbeer, Richard. 2013. “Witchcraft in British America.” Ch. 22 (pp. 393-411) in Levack (2013).

Harrison, William, and Georges Edelen, ed. 1968. The description of England: the classic contemporary account of Tudor social life. Washington, D.C.: Folger Shakespeare Library.

Hayton, Darin. 2011. “How Many Witches Were Executed?!?” Consortium for History of Science, Technology and Medicine blog (pachs.net), Oct. 27 (data appendix).

Levack, Brian P., ed. 2013. The Oxford handbook of witchcraft in early modern Europe and colonial America. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Nenonen, Marko. 2014. “The Dubious History of the Witch-Hunts.” Ch. 2 (pp. 17-40) in Nenonen, Marko, and Raisa Maria Toivo, eds. Writing witch-hunt histories: challenging the paradigm. Leiden: Brill.

Rowlands, Alison. 2009. “Not ‘the Usual Suspects’? Male Witches, Witchcraft, and Masculinities in Early Modern Europe.” Ch. 1 (pp. 1-30) in Rowlands, Alison, ed. Witchcraft and masculinities in early modern Europe. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

Rowlands, Alison. 2013. “Witchcraft and Gender in Early Modern Europe.” Ch. 25 (pp. 449-67) in Levack (2013).

Peter of Blois on human nature & misery from pleasures

Rembrandt as laughing philospher Democritus

Literature from long ago can critique currently dominant ways of thinking. A lover of wisdom laughed, and another mourned:

Democritus
habitually laughed
at each and every meeting,
seeing people everywhere
swarming in error,
today he would not restrain his smile,
and Diogenes in his wine barrel
wouldn’t cease to mourn.

{Ridere solitus
Democritus
ad occursus singulos,
late videns populos
erroribus fervere,
modo risum non frenaret,
dolioque non cessaret
Diogenes lugere.} [1]

The ancient Greek philosopher Democritus pioneered an atomistic, materialist understanding of the world. The ancient Greek philosopher Diogenes insisted that living in accord with reason means living in accord with human nature. Peter of Blois invoked these ancient Greek philosophers in a twelfth-century Latin poem describing conflicting desires and falsely subjective understanding of happiness:

One nonetheless believes himself happy
who enjoys
a passion
by which he is led.
Happy indeed one is called
with regard to the soul.
The lives of humans
are revolved by conflicting pursuits.
Equal nonetheless is their end;
the same conclusion awaits them.
Each one wanders in her own way;
she is happy in her error,
as long as she has what she desires.

{Felix tamen creditur
qui fruitur
quo ducitur
affectu.
Felix enim dicitur
animi respectu.
Volvuntur studiis
contrariis hominum circuitus.
Par est tamen exitus;
par finis hos expectat.
Errat suo quisquie more;
suo felix est errore,
dum tenet quod affectat.}

The poem’s insistently repeated refrain declares:

Various ways
in error
one is sent wandering.

{Varia
per devia
discurritur.}

How should Peter of Blois and those he advised live their lives?[2] In pondering that question, Peter of Blois brought ancient Greek figures to his twelfth-century circumstances.

Understanding of human nature contrasts with contrived, made-up stories. Both were aspects of ancient Greek culture. Peter of Blois’s enlightened use of ancient Greek stories involved actively re-interpreting them:

Mystical fictions,
which Greece
playfully contrived in made-up stories,
now that the clouds have been dispersed,
are going out into the world
and coming into the light
as ingenious explanations.

{Mistica mendacia,
que Grecia
finxit ludens fabulis,
dissolutis nebulis,
in eventus exeunt,
et in lucem prodeunt
commenta fabulosa.} [3]

Peter of Blois re-interpreted Greek myth in terms of the lives of twelfth-century courtiers. Tantalus is the one longing for wealth amid riches. Daedalus builds a labyrinth of ambitions in which he is trapped. A courtier’s confused wishes place him, like Ixion, on the revolving wheel of fortune. Great lords drink in flattery like King Midas with an ass’s ears. Another courtier, changeable like Proteus, betrays faith with multifarious promises. Under the compulsion of Venus, some courtiers pursue young women, others old women, some married women, others virgins, and still others boys.[4]

Peter of Blois had a dialogic sensibility. In his poetic dialogue between a courtier and a pious admonisher, the courtier declares:

Only fools make themselves unhappy
of their own free will

{Stulti sunt qui miseri
volunt sponte fieri} [5]

Peter of Blois’s poem that begins with Democritus laughing and Diogenes mourning ends with complex observations on individuality and human nature:

Thus, as long as life is lived far and wide,
as long as there is seeking for
what is sweeter for each,
a changeable method brings pleasures by various
miseries
corrupted;
nonetheless, as long as his own delights
each enjoys,
pleasure
follows equally.

{Sic, dum vage vivitur,
dum queritur
quid cuique sit dulcius
(modis) affert variis
miseriis
corruptas;
tamen, dum deliciis
quisque suis fruitur
par sequitur
voluptas.} [6]

Subjective pleasure-seeking secures equally for each pleasure corrupted by misery, the misery of wandering various ways in error. Another of Peter of Blois’s poems associates human being with nature in atomistic understanding:

Our physical self
follows the elements,
and in the season’s warmth
it is touched to the depths.

{Homo noster carneus
elementa sequitur
et calore temporis
ad profundum tangitur.} [7]

As for free will, perhaps that’s a fiction:

the allurement of beauty
creates the causes of love.

{blandimentum decoris
causas creat amoris.} [8]

Human nature nonetheless makes persons — collections of material elements — believe that they can choose. If you believe you can choose, choose to lead your life with understanding of human nature.

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Notes:

[1] Ridere solitus st. 1, from manuscript Oxford Bodley Additional A.44, f. 45r-45v, printed in Wilmart (1958) pp. 37-9.  This poem as a whole survives only in that manuscript. Moser (2004) pp. 223-4 provides the Latin text from Wilmart and adds an English translation. I’ve adapted Moser’s translation. To make the Latin text more easily readable, I’ve converted u to v where appropriate. The subsequent two quotes are from id. st. 2, and refrain. The refrain occurs after each half-strophe. That’s a “very unusual feature” in a rhymed rhythmic sequence of classical form. Dronke (1976) p. 224, note to 21.

This poem is given the title Misère constante des différents plaisirs (Constant misery from various pleasures) in Wilmart (1958) p. 37, no. 9. On its attribution to Peter of Blois, Dronke (1976) p. 228, no. 41. As Moser (2004) p. 422, n. 67 observes, stanza 4a of Ridere solitus occurs in a chronicle. The stanza there is explicitly ascribed to Peter of Blois. See Dronke (1976) pp. 231-2, no. 52.

[2] Peter of Blois corresponded with twelfth-century intellectual, religious, and political leaders. On his letters, Cotts (2009). His letter collection subsequently was relatively popular and has survived in 250 manuscripts. It’s available, along with other works of Peter of Blois (Petri Blesensis) in Patrologia Latina 207. On textual issues with respect to the letter collection, Cotts (2009), Appendix.

Ambivalence and sic et non {yes and no} characterize Peter of Blois’s letters and poetry. In Epistle 14, he states that “the courtier’s life is the death of the soul.” From Latin trans. Dronke (1976) p. 194. In Epistle 150, he declares with respect to the choice to be a courtier:

Let each person follow and keep to the decision of his own will.

Trans. id. p. 196.

[3] Ridere solitus st. 3, from Latin trans. Moser (2004) p. 225, adapted above. In Epistle 76, Peter of Blois chides a correspondent (who may have been a projection of himself) about ancient Greek culture:

What are they to you, these vanities and false insanities? … What’s Jove to you, what’s Hercules to you?

Trans. Dronke (1976) p. 197. Subsequent stanzas of Ridere solitus inculturate ancient Greek figures in the twelfth-century European court, as described above.

[4] In ancient Greek myth, Apollo transformed King Midas’s ears into an ass’s ears for not judging his music to be superior. On the origins of that myth, Vassileva (2008). The association of King Midas’s ears with flattery seems to have been a medieval interpretation.

The twelfth-century courtier Walter Map in his De Nugis Curialium compared the court to Hell with twelfth-century inculturations of Tantalus, Sisyphus, Ixion, Tityus, the Daughter of Belus, Cerberus, and probably Charon. De Nugis Curialium Dist. 1, chs. 2-9, Latin text and English translation in James, Brooke & Mynors (1983) pp. 8-11. Map began with an ironic understanding of self:

I may say that in the court I exist and of the court I speak, and what the court is, God knows, I know not.

De Nugis Curialium Dist. 1, ch. 1, id. pp. 2-3. Similarly, Dist. 5, ch. 7, pp. 499-509.

MS Oxford Bodleian Library MS Add. A44, no. 14, Omnis uere confiten uere Christum colit, inculturates Tantalas, Sisyphus, and Ixion as punishment for contemporary misers. For very brief discussion, Rigg (1984) pp. 1-2.

[5] Quod amicus suggerit 6.1-2, MS Oxford Bodley Additional A.44, f. 61r-61v, Latin text and English translation Dronke (1976) p. 207.

[6] Ridere solitus st. 6b, Latin text and English translation in Moser (2004) p. 426, n. 76. I’ve adapted the translation. Two syllables in line 4 of the Latin stanza apparently are missing. The word modus is Labowsky’s conjecture. Wilmart (1958) p. 39, note.

[7] Blandus aure spiritus st. 4.1-4, MS Cambridge Corpus Christi 228, f. 129, Latin text and English translation in Dronke (1976) p. 204. Estuans intrinsicus (Burning inside / The Archpoet’s Confession), st 1.3-4, has a similar sense of material self:

from elemental ashes formed, mere matter,
as the wind lashes, like a leaf I flutter.

{factus de materia   levis elementi
folio sum similis,   de quo ludunt venti.}

Carmina Burana 191, trans. A.S. Kline (alternative Latin text).

[8] Blandus aure spiritus st. 2.9-10, id.

[image] The Young Rembrandt as Democritus the Laughing Philosopher, detail with color & contrast normalization. Painting, oil on copper. Rembrandt, c. 1628. Held in J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles. Thanks to Wikimedia Commons.

References:

Cotts, John D. 2009. The clerical dilemma: Peter of Blois and literate culture in the twelfth century. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press.

Dronke, Peter. 1976. “Peter of Blois and Poetry at the Court of Henry II.” Mediaeval Studies. 38: 185-235.

James, M. R. ed. and trans., Christopher N. L. Brooke, and Roger A. B. Mynors, rev. 1983. De Nugis Curialium: Courtiers’ Trifles. Oxford Medieval Texts. Oxford University Press.

Moser, Thomas C. 2004. A cosmos of desire: the medieval Latin erotic lyric in English manuscripts. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

Rigg, A. G. 1984. “Eraclius Archpoeta: Bekynton Anthology Nos. 14, 15, 20, 77.” Medium Aevum 53(1): 1-9.

Vassileva, Maya. 2008. “King Midas’ Ass’s Ears Revisited.” Ancient West & East {Leuven: Peeters} 7: 237-48.

Wilmart, André. 1958. “Le florilège mixte de Thomas Bekynton.” Mediaeval and Renaissance Studies {The Warburg Institute, London} 4: 35-90. First part of article in 1941, Mediaeval and Renaissance Studies 1: 41-84.

Arundel Lyrics connect eros, God, invective & praise

Bosch's Wayfarer

The Arundel Lyrics appear to be a haphazard collection of twelfth-century Latin poems. The first sixteen poems concern a cleric-scholar desiring carnal love. The next seven celebrate the incarnation of God. Then three poems harshly condemn church leaders. The subsequent poem lavishly praises a bishop. The final poem ponders what sort of woman to choose for the most delightful carnal love.[1] The individual poems are learned and subtle. Despite apparent thematic disparities, the Arundel Lyrics is a collection artfully constructed like its individual poems.

The praise poem in the Arundel Lyrics compiles well-known concepts and abstract, conventional praise claims. It begins with a second-personal address to a bishop. That seems to be artful misdirection. The bishop is a jewel among bishops, his fame shines, and he adds luster to the realm. He is both a marvel of nature and a mirror of the form that others should strive to become. Medieval thought distinguished three estates of society and also conceived of the Christian church as the mystical body of Christ.[2] The praise poem replaces the three estates with well-known abstractions and transfers the collective body to the bishop:

There are those in whom virtue dwells,
whom nature ennobles,
whom fortune exalts.
There is a tripartite order of society,
but in you the three classes
are an assembly made one.

{ Sunt, quos virtus inhabitat,
quos natura nobilitat,
quod evehit fortuna,
Est ordo triplex hominum,
set in te trium ordinum
colleccio fit una. } [3]

After four stanzas abstractly elaborating on the tripartite figure, the poem moves on to the four cardinal virtues. The poem abstractly elaborates on the four cardinal virtues, eventually mixing in the tripartite abstractions and the three theological virtues. The penultimate stanza coyly presents the writer as an anonymous courtier:

One might ask — and not unreasonably —
who am I, who presumes to write for you,
even though I am nameless,
I am to you deeply
dedicated to your will
and devoted to your kindness.

{ Queri potest nec temere,
quis sum, qui tibi scribere
presumo vel ignotus,
ego sum tue penitus
et voluntati deditus
et gracie devotus. }

The praise poem’s last stanza figures the bishop as Jesus and the writer as his mother Mary. The poem’s final words refer to Mary / the courtier “filled with graces and esteemed before all others in the humility of a maidservant.”[4] Written so as to be suitable for any courtier to offer to any bishop, the praise poem is best understood as a burlesque of sycophancy.

The poems of the Arundel Lyrics condemning church leaders caricature common criticisms. The second of the condemning poems begins with a sarcastic figure of self-righteousness:

Among the herd of bishops,
scarcely is there except one
worthy of the rank.

{ De grege pontificum
vix est preter unicum
dignitate dignus } [5]

That one is unfaithful, avaricious, and criminal. He abuses pleasures and is a slave to his appetites. He ends feasts by vomiting, seeks always to be drunk, and fornicates with any available male or female whore. He sells favors, engages in vicious lawsuits, and bribes judges. He wishes that he, rather than Judas, had been able to sell out Jesus. The most vehement claims with which men have protested against dominant, abusive women are applied to the bishop:

Because he is a trap of deceit,
a pit of vices,
a pond of filth,
as many as the rivers that flow into the sea,
so many the crimes in him,
come together in one.

{ Cum sit fraudis laqueus,
viciorum puteus,
sordium lacuna,
quot in mare flumina,
tot in ipsum crimina
confluxerunt una. }

The first and third of the condemning poems of the Arundel Lyrics indicate that the problem isn’t just this one bishop. The whole clerical order and all of the Roman curia are preoccupied with merchandising, extortion, and simony. Their glory is in gluttony and lust.

The condemning poems of the Arundel Lyrics in context are more than invective. The first stanza of the first of these poems presents the poet amid the throng of humanity:

Although sick among the sickly
and anonymous among the nameless,
I will nonetheless serve as a whetstone for others,
assume a bishop’s prerogative.
Weep, daughters of Zion!
The guardians of the church
today follow
Christ from afar.

{ Licet eger cum egrotis
et ignotus cum ignotis,
fungar tamen vice cotis,
ius usurpans sacerdotis.
Flete, Syon filie!
Presides ecclesie
imitantur hodie
Christum a remotis. } [6]

Following Christ from afar echoes the self-righteousness of the condemned bishop, who is like the Pharisee:

God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. [7]

The Arundel Lyrics‘s third condemning poem refers to a profitable double fiction:

For when he thus makes known,
when he reveals what he aims at,
the polished fiction
doubles the profit for him.

{ Dum sic enim predicat,
dum quid agat indicat,
questum sibi duplicat
ficcio polita. } [8]

The following praise poem doubles the polished fiction of the purely bad or purely good church leader.

The seven poems celebrating the incarnation of God, like the sixteen poems explaining the cleric-scholar’s desire for carnal love, represent wonderful and troubling mixtures. The father sitting on a throne of supreme majesty became a poor child:

The child given to us
wails in a stall,
placed between
two animals;
the one born of eternity is,
for a little while,
lower than those whose creator he is.

{ Vagit in presepio
puer nobis datus,
duum animalium
medio locatus;
ab his, quorum factor est,
paulo minoratus,
ab eterno natus } [9]

The Incarnation saved humanity by joining unlike parts:

O parts
disparate,
wonderful act of joining,
healing
those born
of flesh doomed to perish!

{ O parcium
disparium,
mirabilis iunctura,
remedium
nascencium
de carne peritura! } [10]

Pure forms aren’t reality in the mundane world. The world was redeemed by God entering into the mixture.

The final poem of the Arundel Lyrics presents the poet pondering choices among different forms. The choices are women defined characteristically: the fickle woman, the immature girl, the old woman. These women are no more real than the completely corrupt clerical order and the abstractly praised bishop of the previous poems. The final poem ends with the first instance of its refrain:

So mine, so mine,
delightful love, delightful Venus.

{ Tam mea, tam meus,
deliciosus amor, deliciosa Venus. } [11]

There is no more to this poem after this childish exclamation. It brings within one person the human emptiness of the condemning poems and the praise poem. The final love poem in the Arundel Lyrics is much less humane than the first sixteen. Their separation in the collection surely is intentional and telling.

*  *  *  *  *

Read more:

Notes:

[1] The Arundel Lyrics are poems copied as prose in the fourteenth-century manuscript British Library Arundel 384. The manuscript also contains:

part 3 of the pseudo-Ovidian De vetula, with commentary, the twenty-eight twelfth-century lyrics {Arundel Lyrics}, excerpts from Cicero’s De officiis, a treatise on the astrolabe, and an alphabetical index to Boethius’s Consolation

Moser (2004) p. 241. Id p. 242 notes:

the sense of stylistic and intellectual coherence presented by the collection {the Arundel Lyrics} has for a long time encouraged scholars to search for an author.

Arundel Lyrics 24 has been attributed to Walther of Châtillon. McDonough (2010) Introduction, pp. vii-viii. Dronke assigns nineteen of the Arundel Lyrics to Peter of Blois. Dronke (1976), Appendix A, pp. 215-35. On debate about Dronke’s ascriptions, Moser (2004) pp. 242-5. The analysis above supports the view that one author composed all of the Arundel Lyrics. It further suggests that the same author also composed the collection.

[2] On the church as Christ’s corpus mysticum, the king’s two bodies, and the body politic, Kantorowicz (1957).

[3] Arundel Lyrics 27 (O tu gemma pontificum) ll. 13-18, Latin text and English translation in McDonough (2010) pp. 58-9.  I’ve adapted McDonough’s English translation. The subsequent quote is from id. ll. 139-44. All subsequent quotes from the Arundel Lyrics are similarly from McDonough (2010).

The English translations above are meant to encourage the reader to read the Latin, even without any knowledge of medieval Latin. Some of the sound and rhyme of the Latin will be apparent to most readers without any knowledge of Latin. I’ve lineated the English translation to correspond to the Latin poetic lines. In some cases I’ve switched the order of English lines relative to the Latin for more easily intelligible English syntax. The English translation, to the extent feasible, facilitates the reader guessing the general meaning of the associated Latin words.

[4] Id. ll. 148-50:

a quo repleta graciis
est respecta graciis
humilitas ancille.

The praise poem, which spreads out in 150 lines, has more lines than any other poem in the Arundel Lyrics. The next longest poem is a condemning poem of 138 lines, Arundel Lyrics 25 (De grege pontificum). The longest poems in this collection are the least humanly complex.

[5] Arundel Lyrics 25 (De grege pontificum) ll. 1-3. The subsequent quote above is from id. ll. 109-14.

[6] Arundel Lyrics 24 (Licet eger cum egrotis) ll. 1-8.

[7] Luke 18:11.

[8] Arundel Lyrics 26 (Si quis dicit, “Roma, vale”) ll. 77-80.

[9] Arundel Lyrics 22 (Vagit in presipio) ll. 1-8.

[10] Arundel Lyrics 21 (Patebat in scriptura) ll. 8-13 (refrain).

[11] Arundel Lyrics 28 (Quam velim virginum, si detur opcio) ll. 17-8.

[image] The Wayfarer. Oil on panel painting. Hieronymus Bosch, c. 1494-1516. Held in  Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam. Thanks to Wikimedia Commons.

References:

Dronke, Peter. 1976. “Peter of Blois and Poetry at the Court of Henry II.” Mediaeval Studies. 38: 185-235.

Kantorowicz, Ernst Hartwig. 1957. The king’s two bodies: a study in mediaeval political theology. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press.

McDonough, Christopher J., ed. and trans. 2010. The Arundel lyrics; The poems of Hugh Primas. Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library 2. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.

Moser, Thomas C. 2004. A cosmos of desire: the medieval Latin erotic lyric in English manuscripts. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.