purple motes

In our age of ignorance, bigotry, and superstition, many believe that trobairitz and troubadours were medieval folk singers who sang only ennobling love songs. That’s fake history, the medievalism of fantasy, an ideological fabrication in support of today’s men-oppressing cult of courtly love. Trobairitz and troubadours were elite women and men. Their songs included earthy appreciation for sexuality and lower bodily functions as well as sophisticated, critical considerations of dominant structures of gynocentric gender oppression. A unjustly marginalized song of trobairitz and troubadour, wife and husband, deserves more attention than numerous conventional songs of men-abasing courtly love.

In this greatly under-appreciated song, a troubadour singing to a trobairitz described in the third person a difficult marital situation. He recounted:

I have heard a lady who complained
about her husband, and I can tell you her grievance:
he never put it in more than half-way when she gave herself to him,
and for this she wanted her right to be upheld,
so that the lacking and the harm to her
he would come to rectify at once,
no more doing her wrong
with what he holds out.

{ Una dona ai auzit que s’es clamada
de son marit. e sai·us dir de que·s rancura:
qu’anc non lo·y mes mas de mieg, pus li fon dada;
e d’aquo volia que·l fezes drechura,
que la falhida e·l dan
li esmende d’er enan
e que no·l fes tort en re
d’aquo que li·n arete. }

The medieval Christian ideal of marriage was an equal conjugal partnership, not courtly love. Medieval Christian spouses had an obligation to fulfill each other’s requests for sex. That was called the marital debt. Yet women’s sexuality has long been valued more highly than men’s. Women are thus prone to acquire a sense of sexual entitlement. The wife described herself as “giving herself” to her husband, and she didn’t appreciate her husband giving himself to her. She wanted more than he gave. Like a woman claiming child support from a man that she has raped, the wife asserted her sexual right.

Not sexually ungenerous, the husband didn’t go in more than half-way out of love for his wife. The troubadour recounted:

And her husband responded to her as it pleased him,
and told her the reason he gave it to her in moderation:
he had a bigger one than any man of that place,
and he feared that she surely would die
if he didn’t hold back,
for he had one so large,
that he could kill her with it
if he had no compassion for her.

{ E son marit li respos si com l’agrada,
et dis razo per que lo·j mes de mezura:
major l’a que negus hom de l’encontrada;
e temeria que fos de mort segura
si non l’anava palpan,
c’a desmezura l’a gran:
ausir la poiria be
si no·l avia merce. }

Dying in love passion is a gender-neutral poetic figure. Lucius, transformed into a donkey in Apuleius’s second-century Metamorphoses, wrongly worried about hurting a woman with his penis. Many men similarly internalize representations of their love-making organ as a weapon of violence. Such poetic simple-mindedness harms both men and women.

In response to the troubadour’s account, the trobairitz identified the husband as her husband. She asserted her evaluation of the matter:

All that you have heard him say is the boasting
of my husband, who doesn’t, I believe, have one so large.
I believe not even half of what he says he has,
such have I felt a lack and an inadequacy.
And he says that he might kill me with it,
yet of that I have no fear;
indeed, the one he has for me is too small,
and about this he has lied to me.

{ Tot aiso que l’auzes dir es guabaria
a mo marit, qu’ieu non cug n’aja sobreira;
ni la mitat d’aco que di cre que sia,
que·l frachur’ay ieu sentid’ e la nessieira.
E ditz que aussiria m’en,
et ieu no·n ai espaven;
ans l’a a mos obs petit,
e d’aco eys a mentit. }

Men’s bodies and men’s performance are subject to the female gaze and female evaluation. Is it any wonder that men feel pressure to put meat on table?

In response to the trobairitz belittling her husband, the troubadour identified himself as her husband. He strongly criticized his wife for not appreciating his compassion for her:

Wife, what you seek is grand madness!
And I should warn you well from the start,
that I could destroy one who has no other illness,
and you would want to die in such a way?
If I hadn’t had such sense,
as to have consideration,
it would be choosing sorrow
for you, and there’s no gratitude for me.

{ Molher, vos aves dezir de gran folia!
E deuria vos ben castiar la premieira,
qu’ieu l’ausis, c’anc non ac autra malautia:
e vos volriatz morir d’aital maneira?
S’ieu non agues tan de sen
com ai avut chauzimen,
pessaza for’ essernit
de vos: e no m’es grazit. }

Most husbands love their wives and seek to do what is best for their wives. Wives should show more gratitude for their husbands, as Boncompagno taught wives in twelfth-century Bologna.

The trobairitz, a strong, independent woman, instructed her husband on what he should do in bed with her. She declared:

Husband, you should cease the harm you do
and reduce the evil done to me, discerning a better way.
If you can do it so that you hear me cry out and yell,
by ruling over me in my loins and killing it,
I will give you a fighting partner
who triumphs, but doesn’t strike,
who is pleased when he is struck
and doesn’t become less daring.

{ Marit, de trastot lo dan vos fas fi faire
e del mal que·m podetz far, al mieu albire:
si me·n podetz far sentir qu’en crit ni·n braire
per iustiziar mi en ren e per ausire.
E darai vos batallier
que·us vensera, mas no fier;
e platz li cant es feritz,
e ies non es mens arditz. }

Throughout history, some women have enjoyed rough sex. Men naturally fear hurting a beloved woman. Men also rightly fear being wrongly prosecuted for sexual assault. But ultimately women rule over men. The husband declared:

Wife, since as a liar
you regard me, I’ll put it all in:
because you’re not grateful for restraint,
you will then give up your spirit!

{ Molher, pos per messongier
m’avetz, metrai lo·us entier:
pus lo fleis no m’es grazitz,
e issir n’a l’esperitz! }

Jesus’s passion ended with him giving up his spirit. For faithful Christians, that salvific act of love offers hope for abundant life and complete joy. The wife recognized that passion ultimately lives not in words but in action. She knowingly chided her husband:

Husband, I ask for us to abstain
from what is worth only a penny;
much boasting we have heard,
nothing more than empty words!

{ Maritz, ja part nous enquier
del valeissen d’un denier;
que mans gabs avem auzitz
que non eran mas los critz! }

In other words, the wife proposed that they engage in marital sex, rather than just talk about it. Men’s sexuality is enormously important to women. This song poignantly moved from a third-personal story to a first-personal negotiation of intimacy between spouses within a Christian understanding of passion.

Vitally important medieval literature has been marginalized through men’s lack of meninist self-consciousness and the overwhelming force of gynocentric interests. Troubadours have been socially constructed as idealized instructors in courtly love. They in our day thus serve to instruct men in oppressive, fruitless self-abasement in loving women. Trobairitz have been falsely interpreted as proto-anti-meninists who further demonstrate the truth of dominant myths. Love separated from truth cannot stand the test of enlightenment. Study medieval literature and truly swerve now!

* *  *  *  *

Read more:

• what men want most: honest, frank discussion in medieval France
• woman & donkey in Apuleius’s Metamorphoses: asinine mis-reception
• husband’s sexual obligation to wife is matter of life & death

Notes:

The above quotes are from the medieval trobairitz / troubadour song (tenso) “Una dona ai auzit que s’es clamada {I have heard a lady who complained}.” The quotes cover the whole song. This song also exists in a somewhat different version “D’una domn’ai auzit dir que s’es clamada {I have heard of a lady who complained}.” In Chansonnier C (MS BnF 856), this song is wrongly attributed to Guillem de Sant Didier (Guillem de Sant-Leidier). Scholars now regard it to have been composed at least in part by the early fourteenth-century troubadour Peire Duran. Sakari (1992), Sansone (2000), Sansone (2001).

An anonymous trobairitz apparently co-composed this song. Some scholars wrongly deny a trobairitz authority to co-write such a song. However, medieval women, like medieval men, composed a wide range of works. Some scholars also regard this tenso as “fictive.” See, e.g. Taylor (2015) p. 483. This tenso likely draws upon a classical literary tradition represented by Lucius as a donkey having a sexual affair with an elite woman in Apuleius’s Metamorphoses. However, the tenso may be real in the sense that a trobairitz and troubadour, who were wife and husband, together composed and sung this song about a matter of personal concern to them in early fourteenth-century Occitania.

Troubadours lacked the privileged position of trobairitz. Like many wives pursuing careers today, trobairitz were more likely to compose and sing for their own aspirations and personal fulfillment, not because they were forced to earn money as sexually devalued persons.

The Occitan text above is that of Sansone (2000), which provides a scholarly critical edition of the song. The English translation is mine, benefiting from the Italian translation of id. and the English translation of a slightly different version in Nappholz (1994) pp. 92-95.

On giving up one’s spirit as Christian death, see Jesus’s death as described in Matthew 27:50, Mark 15:39, Luke 23:46, and John 19:30. In the Vulgate, Luke 23:46 states:

Father, into your hands a commend my spirit. Having said this, he breathed his last.

{ Pater in manus tuas commendo spiritum meum et haec dicens exspiravit. }

[images] (1) Troubadour-knight Guilhem IX of Aquitaine with thin spear. Illuminated initial on folio 142v of Recueil des poésies des troubadours, contenant leurs vies (Chansonnier I), made in second half of the 13th century. MS preserved as Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF). Département des manuscrits. Français 854. (2) Troubadour-knight carrying large weapon. Illuminated initial on folio 89v in BnF Français 854.

References:

Nappholz, Carol Jane, trans. 1994. Unsung Women: the anonymous female voice in troubadour poetry. New York: Lang.

Sakari, Aimo. 1992. “L’attribution de D’una domn’ai auzit dir que s’es clamada (234,8).” Actes de Montpellier 1990, l’Association Internationale d’Études Occitanes (AIÉO). III: 1145-1152.

Sansone, Giuseppe. 2000. “Per il testo della tenzone fittizia attribuita a Peire Duran.” Romania. 118 (469): 219-235.

Sansone, Giuseppe. 2001. “Una difficile paternità: la tenzone di Peire Duran.” Pp. S. 478-486 in Kremnitz, Georg, ed. Le Rayonnement de la Civilisation Occitane à l’Aube d’un Nouveau Millénaire: 12-19 Septembre 1999. Wien: Ed. Praesens Wissenschaftsverl.

Taylor, Robert A. 2015. A Bibliographical Guide to the Study of the Troubadours and Old Occitan Literature. Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute Publications, Western Michigan University.

In our age of demonizing men’s sexuality, men perceiving an attractive woman to be attractive is nearly unthinkable. The male gaze has been disparaged and punished to the point of death. Men inducing women to love (“seducing them”) has also been thoroughly criminalized. Men’s perceptions and feelings, however, have not always been so harshly repressed. In the relatively liberal and tolerant circumstances of medieval Europe, men even discussed what they want most physically from a woman.

The man trobairitz Sifre shared a woman’s love with another man, probably her husband. He asked his professional colleague Mir Bernart which half of the woman he should seek. Mir Bernart compassionately responded:

Sifre, I think you’re fortunate
to have asked me for advice,
and I’ll give you the best of that,
because I’ve thought deeply of desired service.
I’ll tell you the truth without shading:
if in sharing you take my word, to be blunt,
you assuredly should prefer the part with the cunt.

{ Sifre, be·us tenc per arribat
car cosselh m’aves demandat,
et ieu donar lo·us ay onrat
car fort en cossir de prion:
so sapchatz ben en veritat,
que, si·m creziatz d’est mercat,
per ver penriatz daus la con.} [1]

Sifre chided Mir Bernart for speaking so knowingly and plainly. Sifre declared that he prefers the upper part, where a woman cuts her hair, but doesn’t remove all of it. Mir Bernart responded with a commitment to truth and the dignity of humanism:

Sifre, you’re refusing the best, the ultimate
and thus what every man loves most.
According to nature and custom
of good lovers through the world,
the lower part is worth more than the face.
And let no troubadour make excuses for me,
for none answers more nobly than I do.

{ Sifren, lo mielhs laissatz e·l pus
e so que mays ama cascus
segon la natura e·l us
que fan’autre bon drut pel mon
val may so d’aval no fa·l mus.
E ja trobaires no·m n’escus,
c’om genser de mi no’y respon. }

Even in the relatively liberal and tolerant circumstances of medieval Europe, men attacked other men for speaking frankly about women. So Sifre tore into Mir Bernart:

Mir Bernart, I am all but enraged
that you give an uncouth answer
and set a much higher value on that bringing
ruination to lovers and husbands alike:
a gentle advance is worth more,
embracing and caressing and kissing
mouth and eyes and face and forehead.

{ Mir Bernat, per pauc no·m n’irays
car mi respondes motz savays
e sela part prezatz trop mays
que los drutz e·ls maritz cofon,
que may ne val us gens assays
c’om embratz e manei e bays
boca et huelh e car’e froll. } [2]

While an unplanned pregnancy can bring ruination to men, that’s only because men are deprived of any reproductive rights whatsoever. Some men facing a disastrous unplanned pregnancy resort to abortion coercion. But that sad reality doesn’t usually change men’s preferences. Mir Bernart stood his ground and boldly insisted on truth-telling:

Sifre, do not imagine I shall shift my ground,
abandoning the best for the worst,
for every day I embrace and kiss
brother, cousin or second-cousin.
But I maintain that I am right in thinking
that all love-making arises
from the end where love is most hidden.

{ Sifren, no’us cuges qu’ie·m biais
ni·l mielhs per lo sordeior lais,
que tot dia abras e bays
fraire e cozi e segall.
Mas d’ayso die que soy verays,
que tota drudaria nays
d’aquel cap don pus se rescon. }

The discussion between Sifre and Mir Bernart then degenerated into trading insults. Having a serious, truthful discussion about men’s interests and concerns has never been easy.

In the thirteenth century, sophisticated trobairitz songs expressing men’s subordinate position in sexual feudalism and vigorously critiquing that structure of gender oppression were coming to an end. Crude wailing and sensational spectacles more easily attract attention. They also tend to support lies. Truth-telling is an art and a craft that must be cultivated. Late in the thirteenth century, a man trobairitz lamented:

For now no art is less admired
than the worthy craft of song.
These days the nobles’ tastes run
to entertainments less inspired.
Wailing mingles with disgrace:
all that once engendered praise
from the memory has died.
Now the world is mostly lies.

{ Qu’er non es grazitz lunhs mestiers
menhs en cort, que de belh saber
de trobar; qu’auzir e vezer
hi vol hom mais captenhs leugiers
e critz mesclatz ab dezonor;
Quar tot quan sol donar lauzor,
es al pus del tot oblidat,
que·l mons es quays totz en barat. } [3]

These words resonate among the prevalent lies of today.

Dare to think about what is true. Young, attractive, warmly receptive women have enormous power over men. That’s not just a matter of a pretty face. Men admire women’s breasts and women’s buttocks. But the ultimate foundation of men’s gyno-idolatry is almost surely women’s vaginas. With good evolutionary reason, that’s the part of a woman that most men want most.

*  *  *  *  *

Read more:

• gender inequality in courtly love: why Marcabru spoke ill of women
• the now-inconceivable joy of sex in medieval times
• sacredness of sex highlighted in Guibert’s medieval metamorphoses

Notes:

[1] Sifre and Mir Bernart “Mir Bernat, mas vos ay trobat {Mir Bernart, since I have found you} st. 2, Occitan text and English translation (modified) from Harvey, Paterson & Radaelli (2010) pp. 1168-9. Subsequent quotes from the same song are similarly sourced. This song probably was composed in Carcassonne (in Occitania, in southern France) in the later decades of the twelfth century. Id. p. 1170. Here’s an online Occitan text of the whole song.

[2] In a cobla (one-stanza song), the man trobairitz Raimon Rigaut supported Sifre’s position:

Never for love of her cunt
did I request my lady’s love,
but rather for her clear face
and smiling mouth;
I could easily enter the cunts
of many, if only I asked for them,
but I prefer frequent kissing
to the cunt that kills desire.

{ Anc per amor del con
A midons non quis s’amor,
Mas per sa fresca color
E per sa boca rien,
Qu’ieu pron cons trobaria
Ab mantas, s’ieu lo lur queria,
Per qu’ieu am mais baisar soven
Que’l con, qu’amorta lo talen. }

Occitan text and English translation (modified) from Lazar (1989) p. 263. Here’s a nearly identical Occitan text online. While a man generally experiences detumescence after ejaculating in a woman’s vagina, most men are quite eager to have that experience. Raimon Rigaut composed in the middle of the thirteenth century. For other trobairitz / troubadour songs frankly discussing sexuality, Bec (1984).

[3] Guiraut Riquier, “Be·m degra de chantar tener {It would be best if I refrained},” st. 3, Occitan text and English translation (Kehew) from Kehew (2005) pp. 308-9.  Born in Narbonne about 1230, Guiraut Riquier composed his songs from 1254 to 1292 in the courts of the Viscount of Narbonne, Alfonso X of Castile and León, and Henri II of Rodez. He is the last troubadour known, and this, his last song, was composed in 1292. Id. pp. 306-07. Here’s an online Occitan text of the whole song.

[images] (1) Man and woman in illuminated initials. From folio 2v and 2r in a chansonnier (Chansonnier Gil) made in the 14th century. Preserved as MS Barcelona Biblioteca de Catalunya 146. (2) Man trobairitz sending forth a letter. Illumination on folio 4r of the chansonnier of Matfré Ermengau, Breviari d’amor et Lettre à sa soeur {Breviary of love and Letter to his beloved woman}, made in the 14th century. Preserved as MS Bibliothèque nationale de France. Français 857.

References:

Bec, Pierre. 1984. Burlesque et Obscénité chez les Troubadours: pour une approche du contre-texte médiéval. Paris: Stock.

Harvey, Ruth, Linda M. Paterson, and Anna Radaelli. 2010. The Troubadour Tensos and Partimens: a critical edition. Cambridge: Brewer.

Kehew, Robert, ed. 2005. Lark in the Morning: the Verses of the Troubadours: a bilingual edition. Chicago, Ill: University of Chicago Press.

Lazar, Moshe. 1989. “Carmina Erotica, Carmina Iocosa: The Body and the Bawdy in Medieval Love Songs.” Pp. 249-276 in Lazar, Moshe, and Norris J. Lacy, eds. Poetics of Love in the Middle Ages: texts and contexts. Fairfax, Va: George Mason University Press.

The brilliant twelfth-century troubadour Marcabru distinguished between true love and false love. He disparaged women for loving brutish men. He assailed men who allowed themselves to be cuckolded. Marcabru’s medieval Occitan vida states that he “spoke ill of women and of love {dis ma de las femnas e d’amor}.”[1] Why in writing about men-abasing courtly love would Marcabru have spoken ill of women and love?

In Marcabru’s time, a working man from Provence loved a highly privileged Genoese woman. Genoa was then an independent city-state and one of the wealthiest ports on the Mediterranean. Using his native language, the struggling Provençal man pleaded with the elite Genoese woman for her love:

Beautiful one, I have begged you so much,
if it please you, to love me,
I whom am your vassal,
for you are noble and well-educated
and you uphold all good worth.
For these reasons your friendship pleases me.
Since you are courteous in all you do,
my heart is fixed on you,
rather than on any other Genoese lady.
Your mercy will show if you love me,
and then I will be better repaid
than if Genoa were mine,
with all the wealth hoarded there
by the Genoese.

{ Bella, tant vos ai preiada
Si.us plaz, q’amar me voillaz
Q’eu sui vostr’endomenjaz,
Car es pros et enseignada
E toz bos prez autreiaz,
Per qe.m plai vostr’amistaz;
Car es en toz faiz cortesa
S’es mos cors en vos fermaz
Plus q’en nulla Genoesa,
Per q’er merces si m’amaz;
E pois serai meilz pagaz
Qe s’era mia.ill ciutaz
ab l’aver q’es aiostaz
Dels Genoes. } [2]

The highly privileged Genoese woman responded in her Genoese language:

Minstrel, you are not courteous
in requesting this of me
since I will do nothing.
Go hang yourself
— I will not be your friend!
Indeed, I’ll slit your throat,
you cursed Provençal.
I’ll heap insults on you:
dirty, stupid, hairless!
I’ll never love you
because I have a husband more handsome
than you, and I know it well.
Go away, brother, for I have
better things to do with my time.

{ Iuiar, voi no sei corteso
Qe me chaideiai de zo,
Qe niente no farò.
Ance fossi voi apeso
— vostr’amia non serò.
Certo, ia ve scanerò,
Provenzal malaurao!
Tal enoio ve dirò:
Sozo, mozo, escalvao!
Ni ia voi non amerò,
Q’eu chu bello marì o
Qe voi no sei, ben lo so.
Andai via, frar’, eu temp’ò
Meillaura! }

The woman went on to disparage the man as having less sense than a cat. She also made further ethnic slurs against Provençals. When the man offered to serve her well sexually, she suggested that he go mount a pack-horse.

Courtly love was a form of structural gender oppression of men. Without concern for men’s disadvantaged position, some women treated men badly:

Lady, because of you I am in great torment.
— Sir, you act foolishly, and I am not grateful to you for that.
Lady, for God’s sake, be considerate.
— Sir, your pleas are wasted on me.
Good lady, I love you with a pure heart.
— Sir, and I desire you less than I desire anyone.
Lady, for that reason, I have a sorrowful heart.
— Sir, and I am happy and joyful.

Lady, I am dying for lack of encouragement from you.
— Sir, you are taking a long time to do it.
Lady, my life is worse than death.
— Sir, I’m pleased, provided I don’t cause your death.
Lady, I get nothing but discouragement from you.
— Sir, do you think you can force me to love you?
Lady, you can save me with a look.
— Sir, you have no hope or encouragement.

Lady, I then go elsewhere to beg for pity.
— Sir, then leave — who is keeping you?
Lady, I cannot because your love holds me back.
— It does that, Sir, without my help.
Lady, you always reply to me too harshly.
— Sir, that’s because I hate you more than anyone.
So, Lady, you will never be kind to me?
— Sir, it will be as you say, I believe.

{ Domna, per vos estauc en greu turmen.
— Senher, que fols faitz, qu’ieu grat no.us en sen.
Domna, per dieu, ajatz en chauzimen.
— Senher, vostres precs hi anatz perden.
Bona domna, ie.us am ieu finamen.
— Senher, et ie.us vuelh peitz qu’a l’autra gen.
Domna, per so n’ai ieu lo cor dolen.
— Senher, et ieu alegre e iauzen.

Domna, ia muer per vos sens nulh cofort.
— Senher, ben trop n’auretz faich lonc acort.
Domna, ia es ma vida peigz de mort.
— Senher, so.m platz, sol que no.us no’aya tort.
Domna, de vos non ai mas desconort.
— Senher, e doncs cujatz qu’ie.us am per fort?
Domna, ab un semblan m’agratz estort.
— Senher, respieit no.n ajatz ni conort.

Domna, vauc doncs alhors clamar merce.
— Senher, anatz de sai — qui vos rete?
Domna, no puesc, que vostr’amors me te.
— Senes cosselh, senher, o fa de me.
Domna, trop mal mi respondetz ancse.
— Senher, quar peigz vos vuelh qu’az autra re.
E doncs, dona, no.m faretz ia nulh be?
— Senher, aissi er cum disez, so cre. } [3]

Cruel, uncaring women didn’t just treat unwanted men-lovers badly. They also treated their husbands badly:

I’m pretty, yet I have heavy despair
by my husband, for him I neither want nor desire.

With that I’ll tell you why I so seek love:
I’m pretty, yet I have grave despair
by my husband, for him I neither want nor desire.

Because I’m petite, young, and ready,
I’m pretty, yet I have grave despair
by my husband, for him I neither want nor desire.

And a husband who makes me joyful is what I deserve,
with whom I could always laugh and play.
I’m pretty, yet I have grave despair
by my husband, for him I neither want nor desire.

May God save me if I have ever loved him.
I’m pretty, yet I have grave despair
by my husband, for him I neither want nor desire.

To sleep with him is bitter for me.
I’m pretty, yet I have grave despair
by my husband, for him I neither want nor desire.

And when I see him I feel so ashamed
that I pray death will come to take him soon.
I’m pretty, yet I have grave despair
by my husband, for him I neither want nor desire.

{ Coindeta sui, si cum n’ai greu cossire
per mon marit, qar ne.l voil ne.l desire.

Q’en be.us dirai per qe son aisi drusa,
Coindeta sui, si cum n’ai greu cossire
per mon marit, qar ne.l voil ne.l desire.

Qar pauca son, ioveneta e tosa,
Coindeta sui, si cum n’ai greu cossire
per mon marit, qar ne.l voil ne.l desire.

E degr’aver marit dunt fos ioiosa,
Ab cui toz temps pogues iogar e rire.
Coindeta sui, si cum n’ai greu cossire
per mon marit, qar ne.l voil ne.l desire.

Ia Deus mi.n.sal se ia sui amorosa;
Coindeta sui, si cum n’ai greu cossire
per mon marit, qar ne.l voil ne.l desire.

De lui amar, mia sui cubitosa,
Coindeta sui, si cum n’ai greu cossire
per mon marit, qar ne.l voil ne.l desire.

Anz quant lo vie, ne son tant vergoignosa
q’er prec la mort qe.l venga tost aucire.
Coindeta sui, si cum n’ai greu cossire
per mon marit, qar ne.l voil ne.l desire. } [4]

After the introductory refrain, this song has end rhymes across the first lines of the stanzas, with every third stanza having four verses rather than three. That formal sophistication matters little relative to the utter self-absorption of the woman’s words. The song is all about her. Because she is pretty, she feels entitled to whatever she desires. That’s a common aspect of female privilege under gynocentrism.

Some medieval literature spoke ill of men. Why would it be remarkable if Marcabru spoke ill of women? Today writers who would write anything even mildly critical of women had best append to every instance of the word “women” a pious tag: PBUT & NAWALT, meaning “praise be upon them and not all women are like that.” The danger of not writing piously about women is made clear in a thirteenth-century trobairitz song:

I cannot keep silent, I must say what I think
about that for which I have great hurt in my heart.
It gives me pain and grief to tell
about those ancient troubadours,
now dead, for I say they gravely sinned.
They led the world into confusion
when they spoke ill of women openly.
All who hear their speech believe it,
and grant that such things seem true.
Thus they have led the world into error.

{ No puesc mudar no digua mon vejaire
D’aisso don ay al cor molt gran error
Et er me molt mal e greu a retraire
Quar aquist antic trobador
Que.n son passat, dic que son fort peccaire
Qu’ilh an mes lo segl’en error
Que an dig mal de domnas a prezen
E trastug silh q’o auzon crezo.ls en
Et autreyon tug que ben es semblansa
Et aissi an mes lo segl’en erransa. } [5]

The danger is in speaking “openly” about women. If all who hear openly spoken words about women believe and judge them to be true, maybe those words actually are true. Maybe women in fact are equally human beings with men, not goddesses. Perhaps women even fart.

All these men were good troubadours,
and they pretended to be loyal lovers.
But I know that no lover can be true
who speaks ill of love;
rather, I say he’s deceitful in love
and behaves like a traitor.
The more strongly he strives for love,
the more candidly he speaks ill of it,
for even if a man owned all of France,
but had no lady, he would have no happiness.

{ E tug aquist que eron bon trobaire
Tug se fenhon per lial amador,
Mas ieu sai be que non es fis amaire
Nuls hom que digua mal d’amor;
Enans vos die qu’es ves amor bauzaire
E fai l’uzatge al traitor;
Aicel que se so on plus fort s’aten
Plus en ditz mal aissi tot a prezen
Quar neguns hom, s’avia tota Fransa,
No pot ses don’aver gran benestansa. }

A man without a woman is like a fish without a bicycle. Why hasn’t that sentiment become famous? Those who can’t distinguish between men-abasing courtly love and mutually generous, self-sacrificing love are incapable of distinguishing between false and true.

Never will a man of noble nature
allow another man to speak so foolishly,
as do those who are deceitful, fickle
lovers, and who all act the same.
Lord Marcabru spoke like a preacher,
who in a church or a place of prayer,
speaks great ill of those who don’t believe —
just so he spoke ill of women.
I tell you that there’s no great honor
in speaking ill of those who birth infants.

{ E ja nulhs hom que sia de bon aire
No sufrira qu’om en digua folhor,
Mas silh que son ves amor tric e vaire
Ho tuzonon e s’en tenon ab lor;
Qu’en Marcabrus a ley de predicaire
Quant es en gleiza ho orador
Que di gran mal de la gen mescrezen,
Et el ditz mal de donas eyssamen/
E dic vos be que non l’es gran honransa
Selh que ditz mal d’aisso don nays enfansa. }

Women instruct men to police other men for threats against gynocentrism. Men, if they want to be “noble” in women’s eyes, must punish men who are deceitful, fickle lovers. In addition, anyone who calls a woman a deceitful, fickle lover is a misogynist. Women are a privileged class because they give birth to infants. In contrast, men’s erection labor merits only laughter.

The great troubadour Marcabru spoke truth to power. Like Matheolus, Valerius, Hugh Primas and other courageous medieval men, Marcabru with compassion toward men sought to warn them:

Marcabru, son of Marcabruna,
was engendered under such a moon
that he knows how love dies.
Listen!
He’s never loved a woman
nor been loved by any.

If you follow women’s wisdom
it’s right that you’ll meet your doom,
as Scripture teaches us.
Listen!
Misfortune will come to you,
if you are not careful!

{ Marcabrus, fills Marcabruna,
Fo engenratz en tal luna
Qu’el sap d’Amor cum degruna,
–Escoutatz!–
Quez anc non amet neguna,
Ni d’autra non fo amatz.

Qui per sen de femna reigna
Dreitz es que mals li·n aveigna
Si cum la letra·ns enseigna;
–Escoutatz!–
Malaventura·us en veigna
Si tuich no vos en gardatz! } [6]

Love dies when love is identified only with courtly love. Marcabru apparently didn’t love any women that way, nor did any so love him. Listen and learn from him! Today, terribly, yes all men are portrayed as evil, as being animated with toxic masculinity. Don’t listen to that. Euripides was slandered, too. So what if Marcabru spoke ill of women and courtly love? If you want nice, work for justice.

*  *  *  *  *

Read more:

• Marcabru on medieval conscription of men and women’s response
• Latin love teaching of Facetus: Moribus et vita mis-educated men
• Jason to Hypsipyle, crazy stalker from the androcidal Lemnian women

Notes:

[1] Here’s Marcabru’s vida in Occitan and English from BnF MS. 12473.  Marcabru was from Gascony and probably sung fron 1130 to 1149. Guilhem X of Aquitaine, son of the troubadour Guilhem IX, patronized Marcabru, as did King Alfonso VII of Castile and León. About forty songs of Marcabru have survived. Paden & Paden (2007) p. 38. “Marcabru’s poetry is arguably the most powerful and distinctive of any of the troubadours.” Kehew (2005) p. 43. For the best Occitan text and English translations of all Marcabru’s surviving songs, Gaunt, Harvey & Paterson (2000). Nelson (1970) includes translations and is freely available.

Like sexual harassment authorities today, Marcabru condemned relationships between a superior and a subordinate worker:

A lady knows nothing of courtly love
if she loves a household servant;
her desire makes a bitch of her,
like a pure hound with a mongrel cur.

{ Dompna non sap d’amor fina
C’ama girbaut de maiso,
Sa voluntatz la mastina
Cum fai lebrieir’ ab gosso! }

Marcabru, “L’iverns vai e·l temps s’aizina {Winter departs and the weather follows}” st. 6.1-4, Occitan text and English translation (modified) from trobar. As has often been the case, Marcabru blamed husbands for their wives cuckolding them:

Married men with goatish minds,
you prepare your pillow so
that the cunt turns into thief.
Such a one says, “My son laughed at me,”
when he didn’t engender him.
You indeed keep a foolish appearance.

{ Moillerat, ab sen cabri
Atal paratz lo coissi
Don lo cons esdeven laire!
Que tals ditz: “Mos fills me ri”
Que anc ren no·i ac a faire:
Gardatz sen ben bedoi. }

Marcabru, “Dirai vos en mon lati {I shall tell you, in my language}” st. 6, Occitan text and translation (modified) from trobar.

[2] Raimbaut de Vaqueiras and an anonymous trobairitz, “Bella, tant vos ai preiada {Beautiful one, I have begged you so much},” st. 1, Occitan text from Nappholz (1994) p. 54, English translated (modified) from id. p. 55. The subsequent quote (st. 2) is similarly sourced from that song. Here’s a freely available, online text and translation, where the first line is “Domna, tant vos ai preiada {Lady, so much I have endeared you}.”

Raimbaut de Vaqueiras apparently wrote from about 1180 to 1205 in the courts of Provence and northern Italy. He was a master of multi-lingual songs. His “Eras quan vei verdeyar {Now when I see the meadows turning green}” consists of “a series of stanzas, first in Occitan and then in Genoese, Old French, Gascon, and Galician-Portuguese.” Pagen & Paden (2007) p. 136, from the introduction to an English translation of that song. Raimbaut de Vaqueiras’s most famous song is “The first of May {Kalenda maya},” a stamping dance song {estampida}. The melody of that song has survived. Here’s a online recording. For text and English translation of all of Raimbaut de Vaqueiras’s songs, Linskill (1964).

[3] Aimeric de Peguilhan and an anonymous trobairitz, “Domna, per vos estauc en greu turmen {Lady, because of you I am in great torment},” st. 1-3, Occitan text from Nappholz (1994) p. 80, English translated (modified) from id. p. 81. The Occitan text is also available in Chaytor (1902) pp. 71-2.

Aimeric de Peguilhan was born in Toulouse and sung his songs from about 1190 to 1220 on the Iberian peninsula and Italy. Fifty of his songs have survived, five with music. Gaunt & Kay (1999) p. 279. For texts and English translations of all of the songs of Aimeric de Peguilhan, Shepard & Chambers (1950).

[4] Anonymous trobairitz, “Coindeta sui, si cum n’ai greu cossire {I’m pretty, yet I have heavy despair},” st. 1-3, Occitan text from Nappholz (1994) p. 74, my English translation benefiting from those of id. p. 75 and Butterfly Crossing. Butterfly Crossing doesn’t represent in her text of the poem that the first stanza is a refrain. Exemplifying the “women are wonderful” effect,  she wrote:

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.

Nothing in this ballad (balada) indicates that the speaking voice was “forced to marry a much older man, against her will.” The song indicates only that the wife despises her husband and wishes that he were dead. The husband has no voice in the poem. However, medieval Latin poetry includes laments of old men with respect to young women sexually harassing them.

Another ballad also develops the theme of cuckolding. It has the refrain:

When my jealous husband is away,
handsome friend,
come to me.

{ Qant la gilos er fora,
Bel ami,
vene-vos a mi. }

Occitan text and English translation from Nappholz (1994) pp. 112-3; also available from Klinck (2004) pp. 74-5.

Nappholz emphasizes the importance of trobairitz. They were:

contemporaries of troubadours, … but they were no mere imitators. Instead, they took the rhetoric of fin’amors and shaped it to suit their own needs. With wit sublety, and poetic skill, they created a subject position for themselves out of a rhetoric which, by its very nature objectified them.

Nappholz (1994) p. 1. Occitan song no more “objectified” trobairitz than it did so to men trobairitz. Women under gynocentrism have more freedom of speech than men do. That’s why studying marginalized men authors is so important.

[5] Raimon Jordon, “No puesc mudar no digua mon vejaire {I cannot keep silent, I must say what I think},” st. 1, Occitan text from Bruckner, Shepard & White (1995) p. 98, my English translation, benefitting from those of id., Nappholz (1994) p. 103, Paden & Paden (2007) p. 112. The subsequent two quotes and the subsequent two stanzas are similarly sourced.

The single manuscript in which “No puesc mudar no digua mon vejaire” survives ascribes it to the man trobairitz Raimon Jordon. Some scholars believe, however, that a trobairitz herself wrote it. They see support for that belief in the song’s last stanza:

Let no one marvel
if I speak this way and even then wish to prove
that every man should argue for his brother
and every lady for her sister,
because Adam was our first father
and all have the Lord God as creator;
and if, through this, I wish to make an argument
for ladies, I regret nothing at all,
because one lady should honor another,
and that’s why I have said how it seems to me.

{ Ia no sia negus meravellaire
s’ieu aisso dic ni vuelh mostrar alhor
que quascus hom deu razonar son fraire
e queia domna sa seror,
quar Adams fo lo nostre premier paire
et avem Damnidieu ad auctor,
e s’ieu per so vuelh far razonamen
a las domnas, no m’o reptes nien,
quar dona deu az autra far onransa
e per aisso ai.n ieu dig ma semblansa. }

Occitan text and English trans. sourced as above. Men have seldom argued for their brothers on matters of gender. That reality supports an ironic interpretation of the whole song.

[6] Marcabru, “Dire vos vuelh ses duptansa {I wish to speak firmly},” st. 11-12 (final two stanza), Occitan text from Rosenberg, Switten & Le Vot (1998) pp. 48-9, my English translation, benefiting from those of id., Paden & Paden (2007) pp. 38-9, and trobar. Carol Anne Perry Lagemann at St Cecilia Press offers a loosely translated, more easily singable version. Here’s a recording of this song based on its surviving melody. In some manuscripts, the order of the last two stanzas is reversed.

[images] (1) Marcabru. Illumination in chansonnier provençal (Chansonnier K). Made in the second half of the 13th century. Folio 102r in manuscript preserved as Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF) MS. Français 12473. (2) Highly privileged lady. Illumination in chansonnier provençal (Chansonnier La Vallière). Made in the fourteenth century. Folio 103v in manuscript preserved as Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF) MS. Français 22543.

References:

Bruckner, Matilda Tomaryn, Laurie Shepard, and Sarah White, eds. and trans. 1995. Songs of the Women Troubadours. New York: Garland.

Chaytor, Henry. J., ed. 1902. The Troubadours of Dante: being selections from the works of the Provençal poets quoted by Dante ; with introd., notes, concise grammar and glossary. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Gaunt, Simon and Sarah Kay. 1999. “Major Troubadours.” Appendix 1 (Pp. 279-291) (listing 56) in Simon Gaunt and Sarah Kay. The Troubadours: an introduction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Gaunt, Simon, Ruth Harvey, and Linda M. Paterson, ed. and trans. 2000. Marcabru: a critical edition. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer.

Kehew, Robert, ed. 2005. Lark in the Morning: the Verses of the Troubadours: a bilingual edition. Chicago, Ill: University of Chicago Press.

Klinck, Anne L. 2004. Anthology of Ancient Medival Woman’s Song. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

Linskill, Joseph, ed. and trans. 1964. The Poems of the Troubadour Raimbaut de Vaqueiras. The Hague: Mouton.

Nappholz, Carol Jane, trans. 1994. Unsung Women: the anonymous female voice in troubadour poetry. New York: Lang.

Nelson, Deborah H. 1970. Marcabru, Prophet of Fin’Amors. Ph. D. Thesis. Ohio State University.

Paden, William D., and Frances Freeman Paden, trans. 2007. Troubadour Poems from the South of France. Cambridge: D. S. Brewer.

Rosenberg, Samuel N., Margaret Louise Switten, and Gérard Le Vot. 1998. Songs of the Troubadours and Trouvères: an anthology of poems and melodies. New York: Garland Pub.

Shepard, William P., and Frank M. Chambers, ed. and trans. 1950. The Poems of Aimeric de Peguilhan. Evanston: Nothwestern University Press.