Thursday, December 26, 2013

Contending with Giants - Quijote's 600 Word Gift to Western Culture


Capítulo VIII. Del buen suceso que el valeroso Don Quijote tuvo en la espantable y jamas imaginada aventura de los molinos de viento, con otros sucesos dignos de felice recordación


Chapter VIII. The great turn of events which the valiant don Quijote had in the terrifying and never before imagined adventure with the windmills, together with other events worthy of remembrance

Here it is:


En esto, descubrieron treinta o cuarenta molinos de viento que hay en aquel campo; y, así como don Quijote los vio, dijo a su escudero:
La ventura va guiando nuestras cosas mejor de lo que acertáramos a desear, porque ves allí, amigo Sancho Panza, donde se descubren treinta, o pocos más, desaforados gigantes, con quien pienso hacer batalla y quitarles a todos las vidas, con cuyos despojos comenzaremos a enriquecer; que ésta es buena guerra, y es gran servicio de Dios quitar tan mala simiente de sobre la faz de la tierra.
¿Qué gigantes? -dijo Sancho Panza.
Aquellos que allí ves -respondió su amo- de los brazos largos, que los suelen tener algunos de casi dos leguas.
Mire vuestra merced -respondió Sancho- que aquellos que allí se parecen no son gigantes, sino molinos de viento, y lo que en ellos parecen brazos son las aspas, que, volteadas del viento, hacen andar la piedra del molino.
Bien parece -respondió don Quijote- que no estás cursado en esto de las aventuras: ellos son gigantes; y si tienes miedo, quítate de ahí, y ponte en oración en el espacio que yo voy a entrar con ellos en fiera y desigual batalla.
Y, diciendo esto, dio de espuelas a su caballo Rocinante, sin atender a las voces que su escudero Sancho le daba, advirtiéndole que, sin duda alguna, eran molinos de viento, y no gigantes, aquellos que iba a acometer. Pero él iba tan puesto en que eran gigantes, que ni oía las voces de su escudero Sancho ni echaba de ver, aunque estaba ya bien cerca, lo que eran; antes, iba diciendo en voces altas.
Non fuyades, cobardes y viles criaturas, que un solo caballero es el que os acomete .
Levantóse en esto un poco de viento y las grandes aspas comenzaron a moverse, lo cual visto por don Quijote, dijo: Pues aunque mováis más brazos que los del gigante Briareo me lo habéis de pagar Y, en diciendo esto, y encomendándose de todo corazón a su señora Dulcinea, pidiéndole que en tal trance le socorriese, bien cubierto de su rodela, con la lanza en el ristre , arremetió a todo el galope de Rocinante y embistió con el primero molino que estaba delante; y, dándole una lanzada en el aspa, la volvió el viento con tanta furia que hizo la lanza pedazos , llevándose tras sí al caballo y al caballero, que fue rodando muy maltrecho por el campo. Acudió Sancho Panza a socorrerle, a todo el correr de su asno, y cuando llegó halló que no se podía menear: tal fue el golpe que dio con él Rocinante.
¡Válame Dios! -dijo Sancho-. ¿No le dije yo a vuestra merced que mirase bien lo que hacía, que no eran sino molinos de viento, y no lo podía ignorar sino quien llevase otros tales en la cabeza.
Calla, amigo Sancho -respondió don Quijote-, que las cosas de la guerra, más que otras, están sujetas a continua mudanza; cuanto más que yo pienso y es así verdad, que aquel sabio Frestón , que me robó el aposento y los libros, ha vuelto estos gigantes en molinos por quitarme la gloria de su vencimiento: tal es la enemistad que me tiene; mas, al cabo al cabo, han de poder poco sus malas artes contra la bondad de mi espada.
Dios lo haga como puede -respondió Sancho Panza, y ayudándole a levantar, tornó a subir sobre Rocinante, que medio despaldado estaba.

and en ingles:

In this endeavor, they came upon thirty or forty wind mills in that field, and as soon as don Quijote saw them, he said to his squire: Providence is guiding our affairs better than what we thought to expect - just you look over there, Sancho Panza, my friend, where one sees thirty or a few more monstrous giants - with whom I think I will do battle and take the lives of them all, and with their spoils we shall begin to enrich ourselves, since this is righteous warfare, and a great service to God to sweep so evil a breed from the face of the earth.
"What giants? -  asked Sancho Panza."
Those! - that you see over there! - answered his better - with the big arms, some of which extend almost two leagues!
Look my Lord - answered Sancho - those things that seem to be giants are nothing but wind mills, and what looks like their arms are blades which spin in the wind, to turn the stone in the mill.
That’s what they appear to be - answered don Quijote - but you are not versed in these adventures; they are giants! If you are afraid, run on away and find a place to say your prayers because I am going to fight them in a fierce and unequal fight.
So saying, he spurred his horse Rocinante, paying no attention to the shouts of his squire Sancho Panza called out to him, warning him that without any doubt, these were windmills, not giants, these things he was going to charge. But he was so fixed on their being giants, he neither heard the shouts of his squire Sancho nor bothered to notice even though he was now really close, what they really were. Then he began to say in loud shouts: 
Don’t run away, cowards and vile creatures, because a single knight attacks you.
Then the wind picked up a little and the huge blades began to move, at which don Quijote said:
Even if you have more arms to move than the giant Briareo I will make you pay!
Saying this and entrusting himself with all his heart to his lady Dulcinea, asking her, trancelike, to protect him, well covered by his shield, with his lance poised, he charged Rocinante at full gallop, falling on the first mill before him, and impaled the lance into a blade, which the wind spun around with such fury it broke the lance into pieces, sweeping after it horse and rider, who went rolling downhill very battered on to the ground.

Sancho hurried to his aid as fast as his ass could run but when he arrived he saw he could not free him, so heavy was the fall he got with Rocinante. 
God help me! said Sancho. Didn’t I tell your worship, you need to watch what you are doing? that they were just windmills? that you have to watch out unless someone or something puts other notions in your head?

Simmer down, Sancho my friend, in war, more than in other affairs, matters are subject to change. Besides, I think and believe this is the truth, that the wizard Frestón, the one who stole my chamber and books has sent these giants as mills, to deny me the glory of his defeat such is the hatred he has for me; besides, before long, their dirty tricks have little power against my fine sword.
May God accomplish what he will, answered Sancho Panza.

He helped him stand up, turn around and climb up on Rocinante, since his shoulder was partly broken.

____________________

There it is. 605 words from Cervantes (and the same number in my translation, by the way). These are all the words Cervantes needed to create an iconic encounter between delusion and indifferent mechanisms, between the will to do good in the world and the actual injurious result caused by heedless pretension.

"Tilting at windmills" we say in English, a phrase credited to the New York Times in a political piece published in April, 1870: 
"They [Western Republicans] have not thus far had sufficient of an organization behind them to make their opposition to the Committee's bill anything more than tilting at windmills."
Can this be true? The first delicious appearance of this lyrical accounting of human folly - tilting at windmillsis in a newspaper reporter's commentary on local politics just after the US Civil War? 

The phrase ought to have come from higher on the rhetorical summit, from Dr. Johnson, or Dryden or Swift or Charles Lamb, or Whitman or Emily or Lincoln.

Right?

This shows the power and the breadth of Cervantes' fable of futility. 

But . . . since Cervantes makes DQ out to be insane, ought we hesitate to make too big a deal of this episode

Is a person no longer in his right mind a good model for how to get on in the world? 

Monday, December 23, 2013

Dedication & Prologue - Parody with Bite



Having neglected to note Cervantes dedication & prologue, it's time to correct this omission.


DEDICATORIA AL DUQUE DE BÉJAR marqués de Gibraleón, conde de Benalcázar y Bañares. vizconde de La Puebla de Alcocer, señor de las villas de Capilla, Curiel y Burguillo.
TO THE DUKE OF BEJAR, Marquis of Gibraleón, Count of Benalcazar and Bañares, Viscount of La Puebla de Alcocer, Master of the towns of Capilla, Curiel y Burguillo.

The dedication as well as the prologue are laid down as parody but with bite.

The dedication to the Duke of Bejar, giving his string of titles, like tin cans tied to a bumper, are to be taken seriously as titles but not as conferring any degree of actual authority.

DQ was published in 1605, a century after Ferdinand y Isabel had deprived the regional aristocracy of Castile of any formal power in the government of the kingdom. (See the Cortes de Toledo of 1480 which restructured the Consejo Real - the Council of Castile.)

True, the still-titled potentates of Castile were of immediate, local importance, but primarily expressed in formalities and not actual in control over anything. The former serfs had been freed to leave or even sell the lands they worked and the towns had been invested by Isabel with their own enforceable administrative powers, thus transforming the ancient titles into hollow reminders of the actual powers that had been conveyed with the titles in the centuries prior to the late 1400s, when the two monarchs, had united Castile and the Kingdom of Aragon under their personal rule.

Cervantes uses the dedication to take a shot at publishing houses, with a slap at their "knowing" what kinds of books ought to be published - and certainly nothing like DQ which arrives, newborn:
. . . desnudo de aquel precioso ornamento de elegancia y erudición de que suelen andar vestidas las obras que se componen en las casas de los hombres que saben . . .  continiéndose en los límites de su ignorancia, suelen condenar con más rigor y menos justicia los trabajos ajenos.
. . . naked of elegance, that precious ornament, as well as erudition, which often adorn those works that are walking around, having been composed in the houses of men who know better . . . passing the limits of their own ignorance, frequently condemning with more rigor and less justice the efforts of others.

With total politeness, Cervantes pokes at the pretended influence of the Duke, 
. . . poniendo los ojos la prudencia de Vuestra Excelencia en mi buen deseo, fío que no desdeñará la cortedad de tan humilde servicio.
. . . attending with the eyes of prudence, your Excellency, my highest desire, believing that you will not disdain the brevity of my humble offering.
So the sweeping Spanish / universal parody begins.

Friday, December 13, 2013

The Plot Thins, but that's OK



Capítulo VII. De la segunda salida de nuestro buen caballero don Quijote de la Mancha

Chapter Seven. About the second departure of our good Knight, 
don Quijote of the Stain

______________


When it comes to action with Cervantes, the plot thins. This post suggests why.


We can summarize the action in Chapter seven in a sentence. DQ wakes up, looks in vain for his books and is mislead by his housekeeper and his niece about their disappearance; DQ then goes back to sleep, awakens, remains at home for a couple weeks, during which time, with promises of booty and prestige, he recruits Sancho Panza to accompany him; together, they make preparations for an adventure and slip away from the hacienda, without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Meanwhile, all of DQ's books have been burned, with the cruel, thieving conduct blamed on an invading devil.

The truncated space given to actions, I think, means that Cervantes is inviting the reader to reflect on human behavior. He lays a light touch on plot development, placing a subtle (that is, not explicit) emphasis on why people act as they do

Cervantes appears to believe that the why's of conduct are more complicated, more interesting than conduct, in itself. (I could be wrong, but so what? None other than Harold Bloom has this to say about DQ: "No critic's account of Cervantes's masterpiece agrees with, or even resembles, any other critic's impressions.")

Cervantes is about the motives which lie behind conduct. Conduct itself is, in Quijote, a prop, almost boring. How interesting is it, really, to watch a housekeeper collect up a pile of books and torch them?

The act of burning a book is simple, quick, final. Precious, irreplaceable combinations of words, bound in a defenseless package, are easily removed off the face of the earth. But the reasons for this conduct are far from simple. 

A motive is both intractable in revealing itself and subject to repetition. The rationale for an unkind act lends itself to horrible repetition. 

One hundred books burned requires one hundred wilful decisions.

Cervantes invites the reader to make what can be made of the resonances of the conduct, without much authorial hand-holding.

The poignancy of DQ's waking, looking in vain for his books, being lied to about their destruction . . . what are we to make of this? 

Here is what I make of it:

In few words, Cervantes has framed the torment of one with a mental illness, who is manipulated and abused by those closest to him. Confused and helpless to protect himself, the delusional DQ is condemned to the ministrations of false friends and superstitious caregivers. 

These who proclaim they are motivated only by the best interests of their victim, are in fact, merely looking for pretexts to indulge in self-congratulation. In Cervantes' telling, the repeated bad act repeatedly condemns gross prejudices and cherished, misapplied folk wisdom and religious platitude.

Chapter 7 is sprinkled with folk sayings, such as this one. (Did Cervantes invent these are overhear?)  

Muchos van por lana y vuelven trasquilados

'Many go for wool and return shorn'

A couple more dichos which are patently false in the context in which Cervantes places them:


lo que hoy se pierde, se gane mañana 

'what is lost today is won tomorrow'



- said by the prelate, who has just seen to the total destruction of DQ's library.


quizá quitando la causa cesaría el efecto

'removing the cause may end the effect, perhaps'


- applied to the walling off of the room, where DQ's books had been kept

Cervantes does drop in the occasional aphorism that is applicable, penning this one in homage to the lost books, victim of a literary inquisition:



pagan a las veces justos por pecadores 


'sometimes the just are punished instead of the sinners'

In the interests of confirming to themselves their pretended benevolence toward DQ, those in DQ's most intimate circle manipulate and abuse the helpless man, take his property, lie to him; they compound his delusions by adding to them.  

Cervantes handles book burning with wit. There is no harsh denunciation, only the deftly described humorous circumstance, the light touch of comedy.

Cervantes is trying to persuade and he knows this truth: 
if you entertain you are more likely to engage and enlarge your audience.  
In comedy lies the most potent persuasion, which is self-persuasion.  

Humor does not clobber the reader with a rhetorical club.

Cervantes' most important heirs in English are in that parade of subtle jokesters leading to Mark Twain and beyond.

Monday, December 9, 2013

The Grand Scrutiny of Quijote's Library


Capítulo VI. Del donoso y grande escrutinio que el Cura y el Barbero hicieron en la librería de nuestro ingenioso hidalgo

Chapter VI. Concerning the entertaining and important scrutiny the curate and the barber conducted in the library of our ingenious noble.

________________

While DQ slept, his 'friends' the priest and the barber discuss the pros and cons of burning his books, with rationales offered for consignment to the flames or for a reprieve for a title here and there. 


The escrutinio takes a while; DQ's library contained more than a hundred large volumes, along with a number of smaller ones. 


Here are the absurd reasons which the curate and the barber, the housekeeper and DQ's niece come up with to justify the burning of books. 


We even pass over the most obvious reason not to destroy the library - it does not belong to the destroyers.
- show no mercy, but look at the titles first
- the four volumes of Amadis de Gaula are the most influential of knight-errant books, so spare them or, as the barber put it: 
es el mejor de todos los libros que de este género se han compuesto, y así como a único en su arte se debe perdonar
- books written in imitation of Amadis ought to be burned, as imitations, as the priest intoned:
que no le ha de valer al hijo la bondad del padrethe merit of the father ought not be assigned to the son 
- two books by the same author? One might be truthful and the other a lie no, but we don't know which is which
en verdad que no sepa determinar cuál de los dos libros es más verdadero, o por decir mejor, menos mentiroso 
- stiff, dry style? Burn it! 
- a very old book? Burn it! 
- a book with the word "Cross" in the title? Trick of the devil, burn it! 
- books that may have influenced reputable Christian writers? Set them aside, so long as they are not translations 
- translations? - que habla en otra lengua que la suya, no le guardaré respeto alguno - to one who uses a language other than his own, I won't show the least respect.
- books about French affairs, set them aside, except titles disliked by the curate, as he put it: 
Digo, en efecto, que este libro y todos los que se hallaren que tratan destas cosas de Francia , se echen y depositen en un pozo seco, hasta que con más acuerdo se vea lo que se ha de hacer dellos, exceptuando a un Bernardo del Carpio , que anda por ahí y a otro llamado Roncesvalles , que éstos en llegando a mis manos, han de estar en las del ama, y dellas en las del fuego sin remisión alguna.
- the barber defers to the curate, as knowing which titles are true to the Faith
lo tuvo por bien y por cosa muy acertada, por entender que era el cura tan buen cristiano y tan amigo de la verdad, que no diría otra cosa por todas las del mundo.
- book with "olive" in the title is to be burned, but one by the same author but without "olive" and about England can be saved, since Alexander the Great saved a book similar to Homer, and besides, it is a witty book and a king of Portugal might be the author - 
Esa oliva se haga luego rajas y se queme, que aun no queden della las cenizas; y esa palma de Ingalaterra se guarde y se conserve como a cosa única, y se haga para ella otra caja como la que halló Alejandro en los despojos de Dario, que la diputó para guardar en ella las obras del poeta Homero . Este libro, señor compadre, tiene autoridad por dos cosas: la una porque él por sí es muy bueno, y la otra porque es fama que le compuso un discreto rey de Portugal.
- any titles we don't burn must be set aside, but not read by anyone -
compadre, en vuestra casa, mas no los dejéis leer a ninguno.
- what the Hell! Let's burn all the big volumes! as the barber instructs the housekeeper:  
mandó al ama que tomase todos los grandes y diese con ellos en el corral. 
         - wait, says the curate, here is a title I know.
¡Válame Dios!, dijo el cura dando una gran voz, ¿Que aquí esté Tirante el Blanco? Dádmele acá, compadre, que hago cuenta que he hallado en él un tesoro de contento y una mina de pasatiempos.
which has in it a big fight with a Mastiff plus witty sayings as well as commentary by a woman named Placerdemivida - my life's pleasure; we will hang on to this one. But 
que le echaran a galeras por todos los días de su vida. Llevadle a casa y leedle, y veréis que es verdad cuanto dél os he dicho. 
Enslave the author for writing it but take it home and read it and you will see what I mean -  
- what about small books of poetry? They have done no harm like the knight-errant books 
-Éstos no merecen ser quemados como los demás, porque no hacen ni harán el daño que los de caballerías han hecho
- but they might! What if DQ reads them and wants to be a shepherd or, worse, a poet? Right. Let's keep the poetry books but get rid of most of the poems in them
- toss out this one, keep that one 
- this absurd, droll book I will take home and read, as I like this sort of thing 
- give these to the "secular arm" of the ama and let's not bother to find out why, 'cause I am getting tired 
- keep this one, because I know the author 
- same for this one, even though the contents are so-so.
The curate and the barber came to Galatea, a title by Cervantes (his first, c 1585):
- I know this guy, more of reverses than verses and no conclusion; shut this book up in your house, don't let anyone read it and let's wait for volume two. (Cervantes' jokes here include: the poems are better than the stories; there would be no volume two to Galatea, but there would be, to DQ.)
Then three books of "Castelian heroic verse," the best of their kind, so keep them as rich treasures.
- the barber wanted to throw away the rest, as he was tired of the game but the curate saw one more he admired, so it was set aside.
Cervantes has laid out a long list of stupid reasons for burning books. If the reasons can be applied to contemporary circumstances, then the reasons are 'modern.' 

But hold on a minute.


The send-up of these 'modern' reasons, appeared in post-Tridentine Spain in 1605.


Employing  ridicule, Cervantes implies that ceremonial book-burning was accompanied by objections - even if no one dared to utter them, since to do so would risk escrutinio before the Inquisition.

Cervantes is probably not correctly classified as a 'modern' writer. At least, hold off for a bit with the categories, because Cervantes is crafting a story, which resonates not just in his own specific time and place.


From the point of view of rational decision-making, all of the the reasons offered for book-burning are absurd; this goes for even the occasional reprieve. 


Unless someone wants to argue that reasoning, i.e., reasonable objections to the burning of books did not occur in early 17th century Spain, then neither the ridiculous reasons nor the category of objections to book burning are, per se, 'modern' - they are simply objections.


I think it is a given that objections to book burning accompany the irrational decision to burn books, whenever a book is burned. 

Objections accompany the deed, just as do the reasons which justify the deed. These associations are as timeless as much as they can be said to be modern.

The event of the act is what matters to Cervantes; never mind the category - modern, medieval - assigned to the deed by whomever cares to parse the event into categories.

If Cervantes' concern was to object to book-burning in his own time, then why craft a fictional, that is, a metaphorical account? 

Cervantes, like all story tellers, is linking a past (not necessarily his own) with a future (not his either) by crafting imaginative present possibilities as links between past and future. 

Cervantes gets a lot of mileage from humor, in his depictions. Mark Twain is an important Cervantes heir.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Ch 5 (cont) Dulcinea as Jarifa? Well, yes & "Jayanes in the dance, too"



Before taking a nap, DQ invokes the story of a Muslim princess:

Along the way, DQ insists that his rescuer is an imagined uncle and renowned knight-errant; but check out what he says about his fictional Dulcinea.

Sepa vuestra merced, señor don Rodrigo de Narváez, que esta hermosa Jarifa que he dicho es ahora la linda Dulcinea del Toboso por quien yo he hecho, hago y haré los más famosos hechos de caballerías que se han visto, vean ni verán en el mundo .
That your mercy, señor don Rodrigo de Narváez may know that the beautiful Jarifa, of whom I have spoken is now the beautiful Dulcinea del Toboso on whose behalf I have done, am doing and will continue to do the most famous knightly deeds that have ever been seen, are being seen or ever will be seen in the world.
Jarifa is a fictional, beautiful Moorish princess. 

Jarifa appears in an anonymous, so called, Moorish novel - novela morisca, entitled Historia del Abencerraje y de la hermosa Jarifa (Toledo, 1561).


What are we to make of this twist? -  a delusional Spanish knight announces that NOW his own highest, most beautiful patroness is a version of a Muslim princess.


Cervantes is creating circles within circles. 

His fictional creation, the hidalgo Quijana takes an assumed identity, don Quijote, who believes he has become the inspired protector of a Spanish princess, who is actually a farm girl that Quijana had a crush on. Now we are told, Dulcinea is a stand-in for a fictional Muslim princess. But Cervantes' hero, Quijana-Quijote, is insane. 


We are not going to dwell on the Jarifa-Dulcinea association since the story does not, but we at least take note. 


For a transport into a mood closer to all of these mythical characters, you are invited to listen to an annoyingly brief cut from #10 on the album El QUIJOTE,Romances, canciones y Danzas.


(You can hear the complete recording elsewhere, such as on "I Heart Radio" with a membership.)

Back to the plot:


DQ's peasant neighbor manages to get him on his feet and mounted up and then delivers him to his hacienda, where the rescuer, Pedro Alonzo, overhears the curate, the barber, the housekeeper and DQ's niece in a state of worry about the disappearance of their hidalgo.


The housekeeper - ama de casa - called here, ama, blames DQ's habits of reading as the cause of his insanity. She fetches a saucer of holy water and a sprinkler, so the burning of the heretical books may be sanctioned by holy ritual.


The ama may have a point about the drastic influence of the books on DQ's mental state.


DQ's niece chimes in - after a long bout of reading, DQ would slash the wall with his sword, reaching a state of exhaustion and shouting that he had just dispatched "giants" with the evidence being his sweat, which he took for blood seeping from his wounds. DQ would then make himself worse by drinking a large amount of cold water.


Pedro Alonzo, neighborly rescuer of DQ, having arrived outside the hacienda with DQ loaded on Rocinante, overhears this discussion. He enters the conversation by announcing the return of the knight-errant and himself as a knight of French legend.


DQ refuses to answer questions but insists that he needs medical attention; DQ ask for Urganda - fictional enchantress who came to the aid of  the iconic knight-errant Amadis de Gaula. The housekeeper refuses this request, saying no one needs a hurgada, a meddler (I think, is what is meant here.)


Medical aid denied him, DQ wishes only to eat and then sleep, having dispatched a number of "giants" before suffering injury occasioned by the antics of his horse.


¿Jayanes hay en la danza? Para mi santiguada que yo los queme mañana antes que llegue la noche.

"Are there giants (jayanes, wild men) in the dance?" 
asks the curate. If so, then books will need to be burned:

"By my sign of the Cross, I will burn them tomorrow before dusk."

With DQ tucked in, the discussion continues, in Chapter Six, not about whether but which books are tossed out on to the patio to be burned.









Monday, November 25, 2013

The pretension of faith, the burning of books



Capítulo V. Donde se prosigue la narración de la desgracia de nuestro caballero
Chapter Five - Wherein continues the narrative of the misfortune of our knight.
____________________

Prone on his back, unable to rise, DQ acordó de acogerse a su ordinario remedio - 'thought he would revert to his usual remedy'- que era pensar en algún paso de sus libros - 'which was to call to mind some passage from his books.' 

With his battered hero unable to get his feet under him, Cervantes takes up a couple of hot-button topics: the pretension of faith, and later in the chapter, the burning of books. 

Cervantes might have crafted a narrative that could get him into serious trouble but our novelist is too agile for the Inquisitor.

Cervantes roots DQ's present delusional mutterings not in Spain but north of the Pyrenees, in France. So, whatever follows, on the printed page, cannot be seen as a direct critique of contemporary Spanish attitudes, customs or beliefs.


What occurs to DQ, lying there in the dust, are the legends of a wounded (European - not Spanish) knight abandoned by his Liege. 

The remembered tale from one of DQ's books, is rooted in the semi-historical, hazy recollections of the reign of Charlemagne. This story is one of many sentimentalized Carolingian legends, which were sparked into existence by the nostalgic desire to recreate a lost (and never actual existent) 'Christian' Empire in celtic Europe, that is, in France and the British Isles. 

A famous epic poem, not obviously or directly influential with Cervantes, is the 12th century Song of Roland, which lauds the courageous nephew of Charlemagne, who preferred to die in battle with the Moors than call on his uncle Charlie for deliverance. With Arthur, his round table and Lancelot set to one side for the moment, Roland seems to be the ground on which the other French legends were built: "The stories of Roland and other such heroes of the Carolingian age were very popular among the warrior class of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries." (Helen Nicholson: The Knights Templar, 2010, p. 80)


But before continuing with his story of a beaten-up DQ lying in the dust, a question: 



does Cervantes anywhere have 
in mind The Poem of El Cid? 

Maybe we can answer this down the road.

The recollection by DQ of legends associated with an 8-9th century "Roman" emperor allows the incident to unfold without kindling any suspicion that Cervantes is not too impressed or happy about the social hierarchy of his contemporary Spain.

In an editorial aside, Cervantes wants his readers to believe we have before us:
historia sabida de los niños, no ignorada de los mozos, celebrada y aun creída de los viejos
'history memorized by children, not forgotten by young people, celebrated and believed by the old folks'

Triune components of faith are here proposed: 
(1) memorization 
(2) recall
(3) celebration & belief
each of which become the grounds and then the content of religious practice. Cervantes is proposing that religious faith contains elements that are not rooted in actual history, accessible by anyone with curiosity. 

No. Faith is composed of what children memorize, adults remember and old people commemorate. This analysis is not placed in the mouth or mind of any character but comes as gloss by the novelist.


In recalling the old legends, DQ acts out the three elements of faith, as Cervantes lays them out: (1) memorize (2) remember (3) venerate - by which a system of belief becomes the contents of faith. This works as well for an insane individual as it does for anyone.

Just as the reader begins to rest contentedly, savoring the formula which outlines the elements of faith, Cervantes slips in the shive between pious late-medieval ribs: 

. . . con todo esto no más verdadera que los milagros de . . . 
'. . . despite all this, no more true than the miracles of . . .' 
. . . of . . . Christ? . . . of Moses? . . . of one of the prophets or Apostles? Not a chance. 

Cervantes is not going to lead with his whiskered chin, not when Peninsular Islam is right there, recently destroyed and exiled to north Africa. Islam is all laid out, ready to become a foil and safe target, before Spanish readers. The tales of knights-errant are:
. . . no más verdadera que los milagros de Mahoma 
'. . . no more true than the miracles of  Muhammad.'

Another question: assuming that Cervantes is writing a send up of what he has garnered from writings, may we assume that if the ancient, pre-Roman Celts had left written records, Cervantes would have debunked forested, druidic gatherings, where priests conducted communal pantomimes of natural cyclic occurrences, while insisting that they and only they themselves rightly understood such mysteries?  

Having safely made his observation about the unreasoned structure of faith, Cervantes returns to the saga of DQ, who is still lying in the road, where a neighbor and peasant Pedro Alonzo comes upon him.

Pedro Alonzo is a savvy peasant - savvy precisely because a man of the laboring class must know and conform himself to the subtleties of the social hierarchy. 


This neighbor knows insanity when he sees it. Alonzo also knows, "Senor Quijana" outranks Alonzo socially.


This means that the helpless hidalgo is entitled to care and protection. Pedro Alonzo must go out of his way to return DQ to his own people and to his own house. Personal inconvenience or risk to the peasant is hardly worth a mention.


The laborer's place in the tale of don Quijote may advance the satire but without the laborer himself being made the butt, so far, of Cervantes' grand put-down of the pretensions of upper-class Spanish militarism. So far.





Friday, November 22, 2013

Ch 4 - Rocinante Decides Where to Head, but Trips, Falls




Easy to miss the playful chapter beginnings that Cervantes sprinkles around.

Chapter three ends w/the landlord moving out his disoriented and violent guest as quickly as possible; then, chapter four picks up this thought as if the reader has not turned a page.


In the Spanish this is obvious: 
le dejó ir a la buen hora . . . La del alba sería . . .
 Which should be translated something like this:
[Chapter Three ending] The innkeeper 'let him go at an early hour.' 
[Chapter Four beginning] 'That being dawn . . .

This light touch from Cervantes encourages the reader to continue while also inviting the reader not to take any of this too seriously. 

Is silliness intended as a shield from inquisitorial censors and prosecutors? Maybe. Probably. Of course.

The second half of the chapter relates what DQ did after 'saving' the shepherd boy from his abusive employer.

DQ comes to a crossroad 'branching in four directions' - en cuatro se dividía . . . 

Four seems at first, like a lot of directions at a single crossroad.  But that's the usual number. +

Are these options to represent the four fundamental directions, north, south, east, west? In this case, which direction did DQ ride in from and is DQ to consider turning around?

In the event, DQ is put in mind of the knights-errant of his obsessive reading; these heroic figures had to make crucial decisions when reaching a crossroad. So also with DQ, who takes time to weigh the options - and then lets his horse decide - 'submitting his own will to that of his nag' - dejando a la voluntad del rocín la suya.

Rocinante heads for home. We are not told which of the four roads Rocinante picked. But the unfolding story suggests DQ was riding north.

Traveling a couple miles, DQ meets a group of thirteen men, traveling south from Toledo to Murcia to buy silk. The group is precisely composed: six traders, riding under sunshades, four mounted servants and three muleteers, on foot.

We are not given a rationale why two of the traders seem not to have a servant, nor are we told how many mules are being driven along by the muleteers.

The geography works. This group could be passing through the region of La Mancha, probably named in Arabic, since the area was called, al-mansha - a dry, arid or wilderness region, located south of Madrid.

The deluded DQ challenges the group by demanding they acknowledge the unmatched beauty of 'the empress of La Mancha, the incomparable Dulcinea of Toboso' - la emperatriz de la Mancha, la sin par Dulcinea del Toboso.

Long story made shorter:  

On behalf of the figment Dulcinea, DQ feels insulted by the traders; DQ levels his lance and charges forward on Rocinante, who trips, leaving DQ in the dust and unable to rise because of his unwieldy armour. DQ lies there in the dust shouting at the scoffing knights-errant - 'for such he took them to be - que ya él por tales los tenía - not to ride off even though he could not rise to fight them. 

At this point, one of the teamsters breaks DQ's lance into pieces and beats the crap out of him with this stick, until the teamster wore himself out.

The group of traders continue on their way, leaving DQ:
. . . el cual, después que se vio solo, tornó a probar si podía levantarse; pero si no lo pudo hacer cuando sano y bueno, ¿cómo lo haría molido y casi deshecho? Y aún se tenía por dichoso, pareciéndole que aquélla era propia desgracia de caballeros andantes , y toda la atribuía a la falta de su caballo; y no era posible levantarse, según tenía brumado todo el cuerpo.
'. . . afterwards, finding himself alone, he tried to rise; but since he could not when he was healthy and in decent shape, how could he do it now that he was thrashed and just about knocked to pieces? Even so, he thought himself lucky; all this misfortune was typical for knight-errants and besides, everything could be blamed on his horse. Even so, he was not able to get up, battered as he was.'




Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Ch 4 - cont: Where is the delusion of don Quijote?




(Sorry. This post still does not get us to the "centuries of retreat and retrenchment" as promised in an earlier post. I have gotten interested in comparing the behavior of DQ with the antics of actual Spanish knights-errant.)

Ch 4 (cont):
After riding away from the scene of the renewed whipping of the shepherd boy, Andres, DQ delivers this joyous monologue:
Bien te puedes llamar dichosa sobre cuantas hoy viven en la tierra, ¡oh sobre las bellas bella Dulcinea del Toboso!, pues te cupo en suerte tener sujeto y rendido a toda tu voluntad e talante a un tan valiente y tan nombrado caballero como lo es y será don Quijote de la Mancha, el cual, como todo el mundo sabe, ayer recibió la orden de caballería, y hoy ha desfecho el mayor tuerto y agravio que formó la sinrazón y cometió la crueldad; hoy quitó el látigo de la mano a aquel despiadado enemigo, que tan sin ocasión vapulaba a aquel delicado infante.
My translation:
“Indeed, you may call yourself fortunate over however many are alive today on earth. Oh! Over other beautiful women, you, beautiful Dulcinea of Toboso! For to you has befallen the good fortune to have a subject completely at your service, so skilled, so valiant, so dubbed -  just yesterday - a knight. And so he is and ever shall be Don Quixote of the Stain! - who, as all the world knows, yesterday was inducted into the order of knights and today has undone the greatest wrong and grievance ever conceived and cruelty ever carried out; who this day forced the whip from the hand of that impious enemy, who, for no reason, was whacking so, that delicate child!
Cervantes has declared his hero insane. But is this the rhetoric of delusion?
There had been Spanish “knights” running around the countryside, in an earlier day:
From English archives, a Spanish knight is reported showing up at the court of Henry VI (1422-1461, 1470-71) who (emphasis added) "wyl renne a cours wyth a sharps spere for his sou’eyn lady sake." (W. H. Prescott reproduced this info in his History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella [vol 1, p 6], citing Fenn’s 1787 publication of some of the “Paston Letters,” contemporary writings concerning court doing in the time of Henry VI.
Prescott then cites (also vol 1, p. 6) Monstrelet's record of "the adventures of a Spanish cavalier, who 'travelled all the way to the Court of Burgundy to seek honour and reverence' by his feats of arms." 
Here is the full record from the Monstrelet Chronicles with paragraph breaks and a bit of emphasis added:
CHAPTER CLXXXI. SIR JOHN DE MELLO, A KNIGHT OP SPAIN, AND THE LORD DE CHARGNY, COMBAT EACH OTHER IN THE PRESENCE OF THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY AT ARRAS.
On the 11th day of August in this year [1422, between 1422-44], a combat at arms took place at Arras, in the presence of the duke of Burgundy, as judge of the lists. A handsome scaffold was erected for him in the great market-place, on which were seated behind him the dukes of Bourbon and of Gueldres, the counts de Richemont, constable, de Vendome, d'Estampes, and many other great lords. The combat was between sir John de Mello, a very renowned knight banneret of Spain, appellant, without any defamatory quarrel, but solely to acquire honour, against Pierre de Bauffremont, lord of Chargny, knight banneret also, a native of Burgundy, and knight of the Golden Fleece.
The terms were, to break three lances only. When the lord de Chargny had acceded to this request, he in his turn demanded from the Spanish knight a combat on foot with battle-axes, swords and daggers, until one of them should lose his arms, or place his hands on his knees, or on the ground, — subject, however, in all cases, to the decisions of the judge of the field.  
These proposals having been for some time agreed to by the two knights, on Thursday morning, about ten o'clock, the Spanish knight appeared in the lists, attended by four others, whom the duke of Burgundy had ordered to accompany him, — namely, the lord de l'Or, governor of the Rethelois, the lord de Ligny, the lord de Saveuses, and the lord de Sainzelles, with four or five of his attendants, one of whom bore on the end of a lance a small banner emblazoned with his arms.

The other knights carried his lances ; and thus, without more pomp, he made his obeisance to the duke of Burgundy, and retired from the lists by the way he had come on the left hand of the duke. He waited a considerable time for his adversary, who at length appeared grandly accompanied by the counts d'Estampes, de St. Pol, and de Ligny, together with the earl of Suffolk, all bearing his lances. Behind him were four coursers, richly caparisoned with his arms and devices, with pages covered with robes of wrought silver ; and the procession was closed by the greater part of the knights and esquires of the duke of Burgundy's household. Having made his bow to the duke, as the Spanish knight had done, he withdrew to the right of the lists. When they were ready, they ran some tilts with lances, without any injury on either side.
Then the Spaniard mounted a courser which the duke of Bourbon had lent him, for his own shied at a lance. They broke their lances with great courage against each other, until the number agreed on had been performed. Neither were wounded, although the helmet of don Mello was a little broken. They then quitted the lists, with the assent of the duke of Burgundy, and returned to their lodgings accompanied as before.
The Spaniard wore over his armour a vermilion-coloured mantle, with a white cross on it, like to the badge of the French, which created a disgust in some of the Burgundian lords, as it seemed to mark a partiality for their enemies. When he was informed of this, he excused himself by saying, that in consequence of the strict alliance which had so long continued between the kingdoms of France and Spain, he could not with propriety wear any other badge.
On the morrow, which was a Friday, the duke of Burgundy proceeded to the lists, between eight and nine o'clock in the morning, grandly attended by his chivalry, and with him came the princes who had accompanied him the preceding day. Shortly after, the lord de Chargny, the appellant, appeared with the same persons as on the first day, who carried the weapons he was to combat with. He was mounted on a courser covered with housings of his arms, and followed by four pages mounted in like manner, and by the greater part of the knights and esquires of the duke of Burgundy's household, with some other nobles.
Having thus entered the lists, he went to dismount at his pavilion, and thence on foot to make his obeisance to the duke ; after which he retired to a seat, where he waited a full hour for his adversary. When he arrived, he was accompanied as on the preceding day, — and the knights and esquires whom the duke of Burgundy had appointed to attend him bore his weapons for the combat. Behind him were his servants, one of them carrying a small banner at the end of a lance.
On his entering the lists he saluted the duke, and withdrew to his pavilion. While he remained there, he was frequently admonished by the knights that attended him, who gave him the best advice in their power for the success of his combat, but he paid not any attention to what they said, nor would discover to them his plans, telling them not to be any way concerned about him, for that, with God's good pleasure, he would do his duty.  
Everything being ready, the king-at-arms, called Golden Fleece, proclaimed, in three different parts of the lists, that all who had not been otherwise ordered should quit the lists, and that no one should give any hindrance to the two champions under pain of being punished by the duke of Burgundy with death. Eight gentlemen armed were appointed to stop or raise up either of the champions, as the judge of the field should direct. When the proclamation was made, the lord de Chargny issued out of his pavilion, holding his battle-axe by the middle in his right hand, the iron part toward his adversary, and thus advanced a little forward.  
The Spanish knight advanced at the same time from his pavilion, having a kerchief thrown over his helmet that covered his visor, which was half raised, — but this kerchief was taken away, when he was advancing, by his servants. They made for each other with vigorous strides, brandishing their lances; but the Spaniard all this time had his visor raised.  
The lord de Chargny, without waiting for his adversary, threw his lance at him as he approached, while the Spaniard advanced to throw his, and hit him on the side, where he was wounded, as well as in the arm, for the lance hung in the vanbraces of his armour, whence the lord de Chargny soon shook it off on the ground.
The two champions now approached with great courage, and handled their weapons very nobly ; but the lord de Chargny was much displeased that his adversary did not close his visor. While they were thus combating, the duke of Burgundy gave his signal for the battle to cease, and ordered the champions to be brought before him, who seemed very much vexed that an end had been put so soon to their combat, — more especially the Spaniard, who twice declared aloud that he was far from being pleased that so little had been done; for that he had come at a great expense, and with much fatigue, by sea and land, from a far country, to acquire honour and renown. The duke told him, that he had most honourably done his duty and accomplished his challenge. After this, they were escorted back to their lodgings in the same manner as before.  
The Spanish knight was much noticed by very many of the nobles present, who greatly praised him for his courage, in thus having fought with his visor raised, — for the like had not been before seen.  
When this combat was over, the duke of Burgundy paid great respect and attention to the Spanish knight, by feasting him at his hotel on the Sunday and following days, — presenting him at the same time with many rich presents, to reimburse him for all the expenses he had been at. The knight soon afterward took leave of the duke and his company, and departed from Arras on his return to his own country.
From the historical record, we can see that the monologue given to DQ by Cervantes expresses motivations that were alive and well in early Medieval England, France and Spain - though no longer so by the early 17th century, which saw the publication of don Quijote.
But if a category of men were behaving exactly as portrayed by Cervantes, where is the delusion of don Quijote?


SOURCE: Chronicles of Enguerrand de Monstrelet, Vol II, Chap 1, p. 4 (William Smith, London, 1840, Trans: Thomas Johnes)