Peter Dronke’s death and a renaissance of medieval Latin literature

How are you commanding me, little boy,
for what are you telling me, little son,
to sing a sweet song,
while I am far away in exile,
within this sea?
O why are you commanding me to sing?

{ Ut quid iubes, pusiole,
quare mandas, filiole,
carmen dulce me cantare,
cum sim longe exul valde
intra mare?
o cur iubes canere? } [1]

Pope Gregory IV receives book from Hrabanus Maurus

The eminent, amazing medieval Latin scholar Peter Dronke died on April 19, 2020. He was born in Nazi Germany in 1934. In 1960, as a junior research fellow at Oxford, Dronke married Ursula Brown. She was then an outstanding scholar of medieval Icelandic and Old Norse sagas and a tutor at Oxford. She was fourteen years older than he.

About a year later, Peter Dronke received a lectureship in medieval Latin at the University of Cambridge. Ursula then led Peter to their new home in Cambridge. She managed domestic affairs there for a decade, including supervising their only child, a daughter born in 1962. In 1970, Ursula moved on to another management position as Head of Scandinavian Studies at the University of Munich. She worked there for three years. In 1976, she become a fellow of Linacre College, Oxford, and Vigfússon Reader in Old Icelandic Literature and Antiquities, an Oxford University professorship. She held those Oxford positions until 1988.

Achieving success that would not have been possible without his wife, Peter rose through the Cambridge academic hierarchy. He become a fellow of Clare Hall in 1964, received a Readership in Medieval Latin Literature in 1979, and was awarded a chair as Professor of Medieval Latin Literature in 1989. He held that Cambridge University professorship until 2001. For many years Ursula and Peter thus had to communicate their nuptial love in part through words transmitted between the academic heights of Oxford and Cambridge.[2]

Peter Dronke championed medieval courtly love lyrics, poetic individuality, and women writers. The men-abasing ideology of courtly love has been enormously damaging to heterosexual relations and gender equality. Concern for poetic individuality drove the early nineteenth-century Romantic movement, particularly in Germany. That’s plausibly associated with communicative changes that produced massively disproportionate incarceration of men. A revered scholar of medieval Latin literature sympathetically acknowledged Dronke’s “unique responsiveness to ‘goddess’ figures in medieval texts.”[3] A laudatory obituary for Dronke asserted, “his streak of feminist partisanship was inextricably intertwined with a profound commitment to a language of tolerance and equality.”[4] Perhaps Dronke welcomed Dronke’s Women Writers of the Middle Ages: A Supplement; or, Medieval Women Writers’ Loving Concern for Men. Perhaps Dronke would have tolerated or even encouraged medieval meninist literary criticism. In light of Dronke’s life and scholarly work, I doubt it. His support for tolerance, gender equality, and enlightenment probably didn’t go that far.[5]

Study of medieval Latin literature is largely corrupt and decaying. The sneering, smearing, anachronistic label “anti-feminist” has been sufficient to foreclose serious attention to magnificent, meaningful medieval Latin works such as the thirteenth-century Lamentations of Little, Little Matheus {Lamentationes Matheoluli}. With respect to Letters of Two Lovers {Epistolae duorum amantium}, a leading medieval scholar declared:

When the Man in the flush of reciprocated love wrote that “you are I and I am you,” he surely had no sinister project in mind. Yet the lovers lived in a patriarchal society where no heterosexual relationship, even outside marriage, could remain a genuine friendship of equals. [6]

Did Ursula or Peter Dronke speak out against that categorical, nonsensical scholarly dogma?

Medieval Latin scholarship that embraces contempt for men as a gender has a dismal future. In 2001, when Peter Dronke retired as Professor of Medieval Latin Literature at the University of Cambridge, Cambridge didn’t appoint another scholar to that chair. Reviewing the festschrift for Dronke, a medieval scholar commented:

There is a particular poignancy to this volume. In a revealing and nuanced introduction to the volume, on Dronke’s formative role in promoting the study of Medieval Latin at Cambridge, Marenbon laments the University’s apparent decision not to continue with teaching the subject, on the grounds of the small number of students who choose to take it up — a policy decision which many medievalists may recognize as all too familiar in university administrations. [7]

In the U.S. today, about twice as many women as men are earning advanced degrees in literary and humanistic fields.[8] Literary scholarship as it’s now conducted is much less interesting to men than to women. That should be a serious concern. Particularly with respect to medieval Latin literature, scholars deserve nearly all the blame for repelling today’s men students.[9]

Medieval Latin literature has great potential to speak to men students. An eminent medieval Latin scholar, one who studied under Peter Dronke, observed:

The best way to conceive of Latin in the Middle Ages may be as a father tongue. This description conveys Latin’s special quality as a language spoken by no one as a mother tongue. Furthermore, it hints at the status of Latin as a mainly male language, since most of the people who had the opportunity to learn Latin were boys and men (more likely to be figurative Fathers in the Church than flesh-and-blood patresfamilias) who occupied posts within a strongly patriarchal system. [10]

The reference to “a strongly patriarchal system” is best ignored as merely bowing to current, unquestionable academic dogma. The important point is that most of the persons who studied and wrote medieval Latin literature were boys and men. Medieval Latin literature includes poignant, relevant voices of men’s sexed protest, sophisticated poetry depicting women’s sexual exploitation of men, and heart-wrenching poems on violence against men. Grazida Lizier, or even Marguerite Porete, didn’t produce more interesting medieval literature than the Archpoet’s “As Fame sounds the trumpet {Fama tuba dante sonum}.”

Modern anthologies aren’t appealing entrées for men students into medieval Latin literature. When Dronke went to Cambridge, Frederick Brittain was teaching medieval Latin literature there. Brittain’s The Penguin Book of Latin Verse, first published in 1962, ends with a poem by Allen Beville Ramsay, who was Master of Magdalene College, Cambridge, from 1925 to 1947. Ramsay’s poem ends:

Give me a pious heart, I beg, and to be worthy
of my mother’s love.

{ De pium pectus, precor, et mereri
Matris amorem. } [11]

Given that’s how The Penguin Book of Latin Verse ends, most men students will flee as far back to the beginning of Latin verse as they can go. Ramsay’s poem is entitled “The Eve of Saint Nicholas.” Men students surely would be much more interested in the medieval Latin poetic roots of “The Eve of St. Agnes.”

Medieval Latin literature is mutilated and abused in James Wilhelm’s Lyrics of the Middle Ages. This book was published in 1990. Its first section is “Latin Hymns and Lyrics from 850 to 1300.” Why not from 500 to 1500? Wilhelm’s prefatory text explains:

The anthology begins with Gottschalk, whose moving poem to a young novice prefigures the love poetry that had been silent since the end of the Roman Empire, but which would break forth with renewed energy in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. … Latin went on after the year 1300, but by this time most of the works had become secular and were more Renaissance in spirit than medieval. [12]

Gottschalk’s moving poem probably wasn’t written to be literally a love poem to a young novice.[13] With a similar vision, but much greater medieval influence, Boethius’s early sixth-century Consolation of Philosophy {Consolatio Philosophiae} includes a poignant strand of profound personal love. Maximianus’s sixth-century love elegies treat men’s fundamental emotional concerns as humanely and sympathetically as any poetry ever written. Maximianus’s love elegies were rightly part of the thirteenth-century Latin school curriculum known as the Six Authors {Sex Auctores}. Boethius’s and Maximianus’s sixth-century medieval Latin poems are essential literature not just for men students, but for all students.

Wilhelm’s claim that medieval Latin works after the year 1300 “were more Renaissance in spirit than medieval” is vacuous at best. The great Poggio Bracciolini, a medieval church official who died in 1459, assiduously searched for classical texts, recovered Lucretius’s incomparable On the Nature of Things {De rerum natura}, and helped to transmit medieval stories of men’s sexed protest to the present. The fifteenth-century Alphabetical Song Concerning the Evil Woman {Canticum alphabeticum de mala muliere} is part of a long medieval tradition of important, challenging teaching for men students. Guillaume Du Fay’s medieval motet, O Saint Sebastian — O martyr Sebastian — O how wonderful {O sancte Sebastiane – O martyr Sebastiane – O quam mira} is a medieval work that speaks poignantly to present-day anxieties about the corona-virus plague. In our benighted ignorance and bigotry, we are more medieval than the Middle Ages ever were.

Apart from promoting the childish delusion of the Middle Ages, Wilhelm amputated a vital organ of medieval Latin literature. The second section of his anthology is “The Carmina Burana.” Put together early in the thirteenth century, the Carmina Burana is “the largest surviving collection of secular medieval Latin verse.”[14] Its poem are as much medieval Latin hymns and lyrics as the poems in Wilhelm’s prior section, “Latin Hymns and Lyrics from 850 to 1300.” Implicitly justifying his division of Latin lyrics, Wilhelm declared:

As an entity, the Burana celebrate nature, love, and fortune in a way that runs directly counter to the supernatural doctrines of the Church. … Some of the poems … are almost grotesque parodies. … If these {other Carmina Burana} poems are comic, they are also diabolical, no matter how much like schoolbook exercises they may seem. [15]

Medieval intellectuals were less prone to searching out and quarantining the supernatural and/or diabolical. Medieval Latin authors wrote poetry celebrating asses for the liturgy, biblical centos on a monk unfairly castrated for adultery, and parodies of sacred liturgy and even of women. The ninth-century Latin author Sedulius Scottus wrote a brilliant bellwether poem concerning nature, love, and fortune. That medieval Latin poem points in the opposite direction from Wilhelm’s death-promoting division of medieval Latin literature.[16]

No book on medieval Latin literature has been more welcoming to men students since Helen Waddell’s Mediaeval Latin Lyrics was published in 1929. With wide-ranging personal experience, a first-class honors B.A. plus M.A. in literature from Queen’s University, Belfast, scholarships from Oxford, and admirable dedication to caring for her step-mother, Helen Waddell was an unconventional medievalist.[17] A man academic, with characteristic lack of gender self-consciousness, complained about Helen Waddell’s medieval scholarship:

She is so insistent that we shall see medieval scholars as men, she forgets that they are both scholars and medieval. [18]

For far too long, scholars have written about man — abstract, genderless, generic man. Helen Waddell understood that men are distinctively male and that being male is significant and not a birth defect. She understood, as today’s female supremacists don’t, that a humane future cannot be just female.

Waddell’s Mediaeval Latin Lyrics begins with “Dancing Girl of Syria {Copa Surisca}.” Perhaps that poem would have been more accurately titled Darling Syrian Woman Tavern-Keeper {Copa Syrisca}.” Far more important is Waddell beginning her anthology of medieval Latin lyrics with that poem. Waddell’s anthology ends with “She herself restored me to life {Ipsa vivere mihi reddidit}.” Waddell appreciated men and medieval Latin literature in a humane and enlightened way, far beyond the oppressive ideology of men-abasing courtly love.[19]

Hrabanus holy men: carmin figuratus

Helen Waddell and Peter Dronke are dead. In her own understanding, Waddell has gone to be with the God of most of medieval Latin literature. In his own understanding, Dronke is probably just dust. Dust might count as more material remains than what’s left of Dronke’s chair of medieval Latin literature at Cambridge. To honor best Peter Dronke’s learned, careful, thoroughly researched medieval Latin scholarship, scholars should welcome and include in such scholarship Helen Waddell’s religious openness, meninist insight, and literary creativity. Then medieval Latin literature will attract more men students, and probably more women students, too. That’s the way toward a renaissance of medieval Latin literature and a more fruitful future for humanity.

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[1]  Gottschalk of Orbais, “How are you commanding me, little boy, {Ut quid iubes, pusiole},” Latin text from The Gottschalk Homepage, my English translation, benefiting from that of Godman (1985), p. 229, and Carr (2018). Here’s a fine recorded performance of “Ut quid iubes, pusiole,” as performed by Cantilena Antiqua in Jaroslaw, Poland in 2009.

Gottschalk probably wrote “Ut quid iubes” after becoming immersed in bitter conflict with Hrabanus Maurus. Hrabanus, a highly influential church leader, celebrated men’s seminal blessing and fiercely sought to suppress what he regarded a heresy. To Hrabanus, Gottschalk’s views on predestination were heresy. Hrabanus and other church leaders thus had Gottschalk incarcerated in the Hautvillers monastery in 849. Gottschalk was labeled a “dangerously insane figure.” Gillis (2017) p. 148. Secular rulers in 851 confirmed Gottschalk’s condemnation. Gottschalk probably wrote “Ut quid iubes” in response to his exile-incarceration for life, without hope for further appeal. An alternate view is that Gottschalk wrote this poem early in his life, perhaps about 825. Godman (1985) p. 40.

[2] Peter Dronke was the son of Maria Kronfeld, a Catholic with close Jewish family relations, and Adolf Dronke, a secularist. Dronke went with his sister and parents to live in New Zealand in 1939. There Dronke obtained a B.A. from Victoria University of Wellington in 1953 and an M.A. in 1954. He then received a scholarship to study English at Magdalen College, Oxford. He received an Oxford degree in 1957 and subsequently received an Italian government scholarship to study in Rome during the academic year 1957-8. Dronke then became a Junior Research Fellow at Merton College, Oxford. On the biography of Peter Dronke, Marenbon (2001), Boltani (2020), Gentili (2020), Sequentia tribute (2020), and Warner (2020).

While Ursula Brown changed her name to Ursula Dronke, that shouldn’t be interpreted as her subordination to her husband. When Ursula Brown and Peter Dronke married, Peter probably asked Ursula for permission to change his last name to Brown. She, being older and wiser, and also a generous-hearted person, probably decided that she would change her name to Dronke so as to help Peter as a young scholar to establish his career. Peter then conformed to his wife’s decision.

Ursula’s choice to take the name Dronke was more reasonable than both spouses adopting a hyphenated last name formed from their prior last names, with the order of the last names in the hyphenated new name chosen by the wife in accordance with the reality of gynocentrism. That hyphenating naming practice has double the administrative and reputational cost of a single marital name change. It also isn’t sustainable intergenerationally. On the biography of Ursula Dronke, O’Donoghue (2012) and Warner (2012). Ursula and Peter Dronke are lamentably excluded from Chance (2005).

Ursula and Peter Dronke’s only child, their daughter Cressida, went on to have two children herself, Gabriel and Lara. Peter Dronke had many students. He also had these two grandchildren.

[3] Wetherbee (2004) p. 243. Like many societies, medieval Europe was highly gynocentric.

[4] Warner (2020).

[5] According to Warner, Ursula Brown and Peter Dronke shared “a commitment to socialist principles.” Warner (2012). Peter Dronke however, donated most of his scholarly work to publishers. Those publishers have disseminated Dronke’s work as private property accessible only to those with sufficient resources to purchase it. Dronke could have done much more to make his scholarly work freely available, as a common good, to everyone worldwide. He seems to have done nothing to promote anything other than the privatization of his work.

[6] Newman (2016) p. 31.

[7] Mews (2008). Dronke taught John Marenbon medieval Latin literature in 1975-6 when Marenbon was an undergraduate at Cambridge. Marenbon observed:

Medieval Latin will cease to be a proper subject in the University, represented by someone teaching, supervising research and championing the interests of the discipline. Just as in the bad old days, students will no longer be able to receive ‘a formation in medieval Latin literature’.

Marenbon (2001) p. 5.

[8] Among humanities degrees awarded in the U.S. in the the academic year 2017-18, women received more than twice as many masters degrees as did men (10,538 masters degrees to women, 5,169 masters degrees to men). Women received more than 50% more doctorate degrees (1,766 doctorate degrees to women, 1,170 doctorate degrees to men). Here are the data as a Google Sheets web page and an LibreOffice spreadsheet. For a related compilation for the academic year 2010-11, see note [4] in my post, “women and men on medieval women writers.”

These data are from the U.S. Department of Education, National Center for Education Statistics. The National Center for Education Statistics obscures this gender comparison by distributing the relevant data across four separate, “web only,” highly detailed tables.

[9] Both women and men scholars have been largely silent about the real gender trouble in the humanities. Reviewing broadly medieval literature, Mortensen declared:

if we as medieval textual scholars do not wish to abandon the entire field to complete fragmentation and private initiative – or to one-sided ideological exploitation – we need to find ways to supplement our existing master-narratives for this extremely large and multifaceted record of verbal art and premodern human insight.

Mortensen (2017) p. 60. With respect to gender, literary scholarship has already become a field of one-sided ideological exploitation. A medievalist might consider “feminist criticism of the role of gender in the author’s writing and in our reading.” Ziolkowsk (1996) p. 530. Meninist literary criticism, in contrast, continues to be viciously marginalized and suppressed.

[10] Ziolkowski (1996) p. 506.

[11] Allen Beville Ramsay, “Nicholas, merciful father and guardian {Nicola, clemens pater atque custos},” Latin text from Brittain (1962) p. 363, my English translation benefiting from that of id.

[12] Wilhelm (1990) p. 3. On the periodization with respect to medieval Latin literature, Ziolkowski (1996) pp. 508-11.

[13] Godman stated:

Ut quid iubes? is imprecisely allusive … Whatever the personal circumstances of this poem’s composition, nothing in the text licenses us to interpret it biographically, nor do we need to do so. … Gottschalk’s theme is less the difficulties he experienced on Reichenau while exiled from Fulda than a condition of mind … it is poetry symbolic of a state of sensibility in which consciousness of personal suffering vies with the duty of divine praise.

Godman (1985) p. 42.

[14] The Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library recently published David Traill’s magnificent edition of the Carmina Burana. Traill (2018). The quoted phrase is on the flyleaves of both volumes.

[15] Wilhelm (1990) pp. 27-8. The third section in Wilhelm’s book is entitled “Provençal Lyrics.” Its introduction begins:

The Provençal lyric bursts upon the late medieval world like a welcomed ray of spring sunlight.

Id. p. 45. In fact, Raimon Berenguier IV, Arnaut Catalan, Bernart de Cornilh, and Raimon de Durfort discussing in Provencal lyrics the extent of men’s obligations to serve women is squarely within the great tradition of earlier medieval Latin literature such as Waltherius and Ruodlieb, and stories in the chronicles of Guibert of Nogent and Liudprand of Cremona.

[16] In addition to contempt from medievalists, medieval Latin literature has also suffered from contempt from classicists:

Until recently classicists, with few exceptions, have taken almost no interest in Medieval Latin, and indeed have often been hostile to or contemptuous of it. This attitude goes back to — in fact is almost a definition of — the Renaissance Humanist culture that prided itself on having rediscovered classical antiquity — not only Greek but ‘pure’ Latin. From the sixteenth century on, the efforts of Latinists have been directed to preserving the Latin language and literature of the late years of the Republic and the early years of the Empire. Style, spelling and metre were taught according to classical models; the reform of spelling took immediate effect and was confirmed by the invention of printing. As a result over a thousand years of Latin literature was dismissed as ignorant and barbaric. I recall a New Zealand professor of Latin who read the entire Oxford Book of Medieval Latin and found only one piece that he liked (Peter Riga’s poem on the hermaphrodite). Religious attitudes (not, of course, just among classicists) have also played their part. A great deal of Medieval Latin literature concerns the Virgin, the saints, and other (from a Protestant point of view) dubious topics. Anticlericalism was not confined to Protestant countries: the epithet ‘monkish’ has often been enough to condemn an author to permanent obscurity. In modern times even being religious at all — let alone moral — puts a medieval writer at a serious disadvantage with his {modern} reader.

Rigg (1992) p. 3. In contrast to much of medieval Latin literature, Rigg’s presentation of medieval Latin literature is wholly lacking in rhetorical sophistication and verbal allurement. His book thus functions as a learned reference work for all but the most dedicated students of medieval Latin literature.

[17] For an anti-meninist biography of Waddell, see FitzGerald (2005). FitzGerald’s biography is one chapter in Chance (2005), a monumental work of gynocentrism.

[18] Jones (1928) pp. 497-8. Jones declared of Waddell:

One can read her discussion of the Carolingian scholars and scarcely suspect that the interminable tomes of the Poetae Karolii Aevi are, unless sifted, a weariness of the flesh, a stupendous compound of bad verse, of dull homily, of empty panegyric, of monotonous elegy, of abecedaria and acrostic and anagram and palindrome, of edifying discourse and endless sermon and monkish chronicle and versified stale small-beer.

Id. p. 498. The interminable tomes of modern academic literary criticism are far less diverse, less useful, and less interesting than medieval Latin literature.

[19] Waddell’s anthology lacks beautiful medieval Latin hymns. In her postscript to her 1948 edition, Waddell made clear that she appreciated all of medieval Latin literature:

The intervening years have made more apparent to me the justice of a complaint brought by a discriminating critic against the principle of selection in this anthology: that is has preferred “the hilarity and mockery of the last masks of paganism” — a harsh phrase for verse as innocent as Herrick’s — to the sanctum saeculare of the mediaeval hymns. Yet it is a preference in seeming only. The greatest things in mediaeval Latin, its “living and victorious splendours,” are not here, because I cannot translate them. Even in secular Latin there are things before which translation is abashed: for these others, nondum propalatam esse viam sanctorum: “the way into the holiest of all was not yet made manifest.”

Waddell (1929 / 1948) p. viii.

[images] (1) Pope Gregory IV receives a book from Hrabanus Maurus. Illumination made in Fulda between 831 and 840. From instance of Hrabanus, On praise of the holy cross {De laudibus sanctae crucis}, folio 2 of MS. Austrian National Library, Codex 652. Via Wikimedia Commons. (2) Holy men in carmen figuratus, from another instance of Hrabanus, On praise of the holy cross {De laudibus sanctae crucis}, folio 19v of MS. Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF) Latin 11685.


Boltani, Plero. 2020. “Dronke, medievista e latinista dell’amore.Il Sole (Italy). April 24.

Brittain, Frederick. 1962. The Penguin Book of Latin Verse: with plain prose translations of each poem. Harmondsworth, England: Penguin Books.

Carr, Simonetta. 2018. “Gottschalk of Orbais – Bold Witness and Sweet Poet.” Place for Truth. Sept. 12. Online.

Chance, Jane. 2005. Women Medievalists and the Academy. Madison, Wis: University of Wisconsin Press.

FitzGerald, Jennifer. 2005. “Helen Waddell (1889-1965): The Scholar-Poet.” Ch. 24 (pp. 323-338) in Chance (2005).

Gentili, Sonia. 2020. “L’immaginazione poetica del suo Medioevo liberato.” quotidiano comunista / il manifesto (Italy). May 3.

Gillis, Matthew Bryan. 2017. Heresy and Dissent in the Carolingian Empire: the case of Gottschalk of Orbais. Oxford: Oxford University Press. (review by Scott Ashley)

Godman, Peter. 1985. Poetry of the Carolingian Renaissance. London: Duckworth.

Jones, Howard Mumford. 1928. “Book review: The Wandering Scholars by Helen Waddell.” Modern Philology. 25 (4): 497-499.

Marenbon, John, 2001. “Peter Dronke and Medieval Latin at Cambridge.” Pp. 1-6 in Marenbon, John, ed. Poetry and Philosophy in the Middle Ages: a festschrift for Peter Dronke. Leiden: Brill.

Mews, Constant. 2008. “Book Review: Marenbon, ed., Poetry and Philosophy in the Middle Ages.” The Medieval Review. Online, January 12.

Mortensen, Lars Boje. 2017. “The Canons of Medieval Literature from the Middle Ages to the Twenty-First Century.” Analecta Romana Instituti Danici. 42: 47-63.

Newman, Barbara. 2016. Making Love in the Twelfth Century: Letters of two lovers in context. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.

O’Donoghue. Heather. 2012. “Ursula Dronke obituary: Inspirational teacher of Old Norse literature specialising in the sagas and poetry of medieval Iceland.” The Guardian (UK). March 25.

Rigg, A. G. 1992. A History of Anglo-Latin Literature, 1066-1422. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Traill, David A. 2018, ed. and trans. Carmina Burana. Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library, 48-49. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press.

Waddell, Helen. 1929 / rev. 1948. Mediaeval Latin Lyrics. New York: Henry Holt.

Warner, Marina. 2012. “Obituary. Ursula Dronke: Enlightening scholar of medieval literature.” Independent (UK). April 6.

Warner, Marina. 2020. “Peter Dronke obituary: Scholar of medieval Latin who shone light on Hildegard of Bingen and other female writers of the Middle Ages.” The Guardian (UK). Online, May 14.

Wetherbee, Winthrop. 2004. “Book Review: Poetry and Philosophy in the Middle Ages: A Festschrift for Peter Dronke.” Speculum. 79 (1): 242-244.

Wilhelm, James J., ed. 1990. Lyrics of the Middle Ages: an anthology. New York: Garland Publishing.

Ziolkowski, Jan. M. 1996. “Towards a History of Medieval Latin Literature.” Section GA (pp. 505-536) in Mantello, Frank, Anthony Carl, and Arthur George Rigg, eds. Medieval Latin: an introduction and bibliographical guide. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press.