The devil prays to Christ?

I loved this story! By far, one of the best stories we've read so far. When I first heard this story was about the son of the devil, I was like woah? I was really shocked as to how the story turned out. Their definitely is a constant theme in the recent stories we have been reading. Forgiveness is key. But why not? Forgiveness isn't a bad thing, is it?

Who doesn't love a little peace?

I really loved how Sir Gowther redeemed himself to becoming a “good” person. The beginning of the story was definitely clear that he was the son of the devil. I understand he did things that were gory and disgusting, but he made a turnaround for the best. I also really liked how Sir Gowther didn't just get handed forgiveness. He worked his ass off and became a person he wasn't. I mean, they made him eat food from a dog’s mouth! Come on, give the man some credit. But who doesn't like bad boys?

This story was probably one of my favorite stories, aside from Emare. To me, reading this story brings me back to the old saying, “there is light at the end of the tunnel.”  I feel like we should always give people a chance, no matter the damage they have done. As for Sir Gowther, he really made a turn around to becoming someone new. It happens in our everyday lives. I understand that forgiveness may be a hard factor for some people. Just because we forgive someone, does that make EVERYTHING “okay?” Damage was done, but that doesn't necessarily mean everything is alright. But there are always second chances and forgiveness that we can turn to.

The challenge that the Pope gave Sir Gowther is out of his league. Giving up his falchion and refusing him to speak?? That’s kind of harsh. The falchion is what brought him to where he ended up in the ending. By letting Sir Gowther use his falchion while fighting off the other knights made him noticeable. It was his skill and hardship that he displayed that allowed God to forgive him of all his sins. Ultimately, since this a romance course, he led him to a dumb, but beautiful maiden!  It led to a happen ending, with marriage. Even though the emperor’s daughter was dumb and mute, it worked out well in the end. She didn't suffer as much like the other women in other stories we have read. This was a little cute happy ending that Sir Gowther ultimately deserved.

Don't worry, Sir Gowther, I forgive you!

I’m beginning to see a theme here…forgiveness seems to be at the forefront of many of the last stories we’ve read in this class.  I’m sure this one will have its critics too, but I like to NOT try to find everything wrong with the story and focus on some of the good.  (What can I say? I’m an eternal optimist.) So I’d like to share my on-going debate about whether or not our hero/villain actually learns his lesson in the Christian realm of things.  Because I really think that is the point of these stories.  Regardless of the level of assholery in these characters, we can still see that they try to seek forgiveness (With the exception of the knight in the Wife of Bath’s Tale…I’m still not completely convinced of that one.) Anyway, this story is refreshing, because no one that is supposed to be (somewhat) likeable treats the main female character like shit.  That’s really awesome.

It’s interesting because yes, Gowther was a horrible person. Yes, he burned down a convent.  Yes, he killed people senselessly.  But I don’t feel as much malice toward him as I thought I would.

So here’s my theory: The stories we've been reading have been part of some sort of progression in achieving forgiveness. The Wife of Bath’s Tale basically teaches us what not to do.  Emare gets a little better because we get the sense that her father actually WANTS forgiveness, and he does at least a little something on his own volition to do it.  Sir Gowther actually suffers to earn his forgiveness.  I mean, eating from the mouth of dogs and being a fool…in my book, that’s dedication to a cause.  He also valiantly fights for a kingdom that has basically treated him as a joke.  So I’m completely okay with Gowther because I feel like he really does earn his forgiveness.  

It’s really not like this, where Emare’s father is like “Hey, these are my sins.  Good? Okay, done.”

I’m kind of tired of this “good person vs. bad person” conversation, because that’s all we ever seem to talk about now.  We can sit here and criticize these characters and pick apart every bad thing they do, but in the end I think we need to look at them as a whole.  Have they earned good-person status, despite their mistakes? In some cases, maybe not. But in many cases, they have.  Sometimes we just need to take an alternate point of view.

Monster in law

This story interested me. While it wasn't my favorite, it was nice to see a female character take the lead. However, there were some things that, if I were Emare, I would have done differently. For example, Emare's father banished her to the sea just because she would not marry him. First of all, that's messed up, and second of all, ew. Just ew. Incest is not cool...

Overall, I think of Emare as a very strong character because she finds the ability to forgive her father and on top of that survive everything she went through. I think she deserved to have a happy ending, and I am very pleased that she got it.

I was a little curious about how Emare's mother in law was unforgiven, and yet Emare's father was. Sure she tried to get in between their love and break it apart, but if you think about it, what Emare's father did was far worse. I mean you could just simply ignore her whereas Emare was punished for not listening to what her father wanted. I guess I kind of get it though... her father was remorseful while the mother in law was not. Some people just have to have their own way and throw a tantrum of sorts if they do not. Monster (I mean mother) in laws...you can't live with them but you can't live without them.

Great story with some weird concepts.

Always The Bridesmaid Never the Bride

Title is in reference that I never get EVERYTHING I want from a story... but ohhh so close.

I have never felt so unsatisfied. I know the ending is supposed to be happy, and I am happy that everything ended up well for Emare. However, her father’s desires for her kept popping into my head. About three-fourths into the story, I decided that karma would seriously bite the Emperor in the butt.

I guess I was wrong…

I appreciate Emare’s character, and I love how she is able to endure hardship after hardship and still be a loving person. Her romance with the King of Wales is one of the most pure to me out of all the stories we have read. (He didn’t fall in love with her from a tower, sexually harass her, or steal her from another marriage.) Minus her ship story, I feel like their meeting and marriage is the most similar to a possible modern courtship scenario.

(I know Can't Hardly Wait did follow this script, but I imagine wales was focused in on Emare just like that.)

1.)    Meet at a party

2.)    Ask friends and family about their opinions

3.)    Tell family, but respectfully reject their input

4.)    Pursue!

I feel like they have a mutual respect for each other. The only reason why shit goes down the way it does is because the King has a crazy mother. Even after being separated for so long, the King and Emare still love each other. At the end, the King and Emare happily reunite, the King sees and loves his son, and he exiles his crazy mother.

But then….

The Emperor, who banished his daughter because she wouldn’t marry him, comes around because of a guilty conscience and is forgiven…

I honestly enjoyed most of the story. I felt like despite the settings and what not… the love story is relatable. The beginning made me angry, but the rest of the story made up for it… except for the end. There needs to be justice. The King exiled his mother for trying to destroy his family. Does a parent who desires his daughter and puts her in harm’s way not deserve equal punishment? Ultimately, it is Emare’s loving nature that allows her to forgive her father.

My perfect ending would be:

… The emperor grows old. He reaches out to his daughter, but Emare tells him that he is dead to her. He feels so guilty for everything that he has done… and moves on to a boat rocking on top of the crashing waves… sobbing day and night until his death.

(Or can one of these guys do something in the name of Justice???)

However, I realize that there is a deeper message in this story, which is perhaps why religion is referenced in the beginning and the end. Perhaps this story is about mercy and forgiveness. The King shows mercy to his mother by not executing her, and Emare forgives her father.

A Love Story for the Ages...

So I don’t know what everyone else is thinking about this story, but I actually really liked it, and I was totally surprised that I did. Middle English can be so hard to read, let alone understand and yet I feel I have enough of it under my belt to not be intimidated by it anymore. I had never heard the story about Orpheus before, so I had to read the link that Dr. MB suggested that we read beforehand, but even so I really ended up liking the story. I think, for the first time, I got the sense that we were reading about a couple that truly cared about each other, to the point that they were both incredibly distraught when they had to separate for years because of the faery king.

 

 

Although the story itself is odd because of its mystical element, I connected with it because it reminded me of a real life situation in which a couple that truly loves each other, may be separated for reasons beyond their control. Maybe it is family tensions, maybe it is any other obscure situation that I can’t really explain right now in a blog post but I am sure some of you get what I am trying to say. I mean…do I think the king should have forsaken his entire kingdom? No probably not, but is I romantic in a way? Yeah it kind of is.

 

 

His love for her is so encompassing that he cannot imagine ruling without her. “Al his kingdom he forsoke; Bot a sclavinon him he toke.” (227-228) Also…I am a bit of a sucker for happy endings. I like that neither one of these main characters plays hard to get, and that once they see each other they are genuinely ecstatic to see each other (I am still bitter about the Knight and the Cart). Speaking from a perspective of a person who has grown up on Disney fairy tales, I felt that this story was a classic hero, villain, damsel in distress gets saved by the hero kind of story, and I love that. The only issue a small part of me has with this story is the feminist side that is annoyed that the woman could not save herself, but that simply speaks to the time period in which this story was written.

Why the happily ever after?

To start off, I found this story quite boring. There wasn't any excitement or major twist and turns. It was just a disappointment for me. Growing up, Greek mythology was one of my favorite subjects to learn. I reread the story of Orpheus and Eurydice before I read this poem, and it’s just exactly how I remembered it. Then I read the poem and was pretty much saying what the hell is this…

The way this poem started, I could have recited it myself once I got to the part where Herodis went missing. She literally disappeared in the air, and was just gone. Once that happened, I knew exactly what was going to come next. This story was like a repeat for many of the other stories we have read. Queen goes missing, King goes into disguise and follows.

What also confused me was the description about the other girls in the castle. Some stood without heads, some without arms, some had wounds, giving birth?! Like what, its like zombie land or something. Everyone is just crazy looking.

 BUT! The one thing that surprised me in this poem was the fact that there was no violence or gory what so ever, which should have been included because in the real story, Orpheus gets ripped apart. Secondly, the ending. THE ENDING! A happy ending? No way. The whole part where Orfeo “pretended” to just be a minstrel to see if his steward was still loyal made it seem like a whole new story was about to begin. I didn't like that at all. The author really took a stab at the ending by making it different.

Next, why the emphasis on the “impe-tree?” I really didn't understand how the importance of this tree made it resemble the true story they are trying to convey. Herodis was identified under this “impe-tree” twice in the story. Why exactly was this important? In the real story, Eurydice died because of a snakebite, nowhere in the story does she actually come back to life and live. In Sir Orfeo, Herodis doesn't die at all! It was a complete mess. I mean, I really enjoyed how Orfeo sacrificed his royalty and honor to go save his wife from who knows what. Isn't that cute??

The one thing that I really liked about this poem was the emphasis on how much going away for ten years really changed a man. Orfeo literally went from riches to rags. Weird huh? The author described Orfeo only having a “pilgrim’s cloak, neither a tunic or a hat or shirt or anything like that” (228-230). Also, at the end of the story, he is described with having, “How long the hair is on his head! Look how his beard hangs down to his knee! He is as wrinkled as a tree!” (508-510). You can just imagine the way he looks by this description. It really shows how long Orfeo has been gone that not even his own people can recognize him.

All Those Trees, Man....

So I had to start this by admitting that I had no idea what a grafted tree was before I read this story (I most definitely do NOT have a green thumb) So naturally, I googled the definition, as well as a few pictures. Please enjoy the following for your viewing pleasure:

Once, that was clear I had to figure out why the hell this even matters.  (And it does.  I don’t know how, but I can just feel it.) From a spin off site of Wikipedia (I know, I know, but it was the quickest) I got the following definitions:

Noun[edit]

imp (plural imps)

1.   (obsolete) A young shoot of a plant, tree etc. [9th–17th c.]  [quotations ▼]

2.   (obsolete) A scion, offspring; a child. [15th–19th c.]  [quotations ▼]

3.   A young or inferior devil; a malevolent supernatural creature, similar to a demon but smaller and less powerful. [from 16th c.]  [quotations ▼]

4.   A mischievous child. [from 17th c.]  [quotations ▼]

5.   (UK, dialect, obsolete) Something added to, or united with, another, to lengthen it out or repair it, such as an addition to a beehive; a feather inserted in a broken wing of a bird; or a length of twisted hair in a fishing line.

I focused on the first two definitions the most, which apply most in this situation because their use is obsolete and it just so happens to be the one used in this story.  With these definitions, I’m afraid I didn’t find much help, because I had trouble finding connections.  Almost every time we see Herodis in the story, she’s under an “impe-tree.” Now, this is me just trying to find the significance in that. 

I included the hyperlinks in case you wanted to see for yourself, but what is most interesting is that not only is an “impe” a young, slightly modified form of a tree, it’s also a scion, which is considered a child, or more specifically, a descendent.  So this is really cool, because this story is just a Medieval account of the story of Orpheus.  So this leads me to think: is Herodis meant to be a descendent of Eurydice? 

The way the author of this story makes a Christian world connect to Greek mythology is actually really awesome.  I noticed a lot of tiny nuances that made this possible.  Such as the tree imagery.  (“’He is wrinkled as a tree!’” (510)). And when the story alludes to Adam and Eve:

            He who in ermine robes was clad

            And sheets of purple linen had

            Now lies upon the moss and clover,

            Leaves and grasses for his cover (240-244).

And later when it says, “Nothing to give him joy or pride, / But just the snakes that past him glide” (251-252). I could be way off base there, but it’s interesting how there are parallels, not only with that story, but also of the Christian way of humbling yourself  ( just as Orfeo does in this situation)

I did say I was disappointed with the ending, though, although I think I can recognize that the audience of the time needed this kind of ending.

No one actually gets a happy ending at the end of this myth.  Instead, Orpheus actually DOES get ripped to shreds, and his wife doesn’t get to live at all.  I wish the author would’ve found a way to modify the ending in such a way that it was the same outcome, but achieved in a different way. Just like the rest of the story modifies the original tale. I feel like they just got lazy at the end and decided everyone was going to be happy.

But then again, maybe the author recognized that his audience wouldn’t be satisfied with that kind of ending.  It’s got everything a medieval person wants to read: suffering over the loss of a love, honor, chivalry, music, a happy ending, and a Christian, moral lesson.  Orfeo needs to test the loyalty of his people.  The author of this story had to modify the story to adapt to a relevant lesson for the time. 

I get it, but I don’t necessarily like it. 

And here are the links to those definitions, in case you wanna check 'em out:

Impe:

http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/imp

and Scion:

http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/scion

The knight's Tale...or is it the Gods' Tale?

Before I started reading The Knight's Tale, I wondered (and maybe and hoped a little) that the story would be like the movie A Knight's Tale with Heath Ledger. I'm going to be honest, I was kind of disappointed when it turned out to be completely different. I mean, come on, who wouldn't love a story about a guy "changing his stars" (as the movie puts it), and getting the girl of his dreams despite lying about who he is at first?!

Well, although the story we read for class is completely different, I suppose it was still a good story.

I was a little taken aback by the setting of this story in particular because I do not generally associate Ancient Greece with the medieval romance stories about kings, queens, and knights. I guess it still works though because they still had the aspects of courtly love and medieval romance in general in the story. They had the knights fighting for what they love...aka a beautiful woman that they do not even know, a king to guide them, and rules, of course.

I just want to take this opportunity to talk about how accommodating the gods/goddesses are...well kind of. They come to a compromise of sorts. Mars and Venus get what they want for Arcite and Palamon, while Diana has to tell Emelye that she has to marry one of the them (which she kind of said was okay if she could not get what she really wanted− to remain unmarried). So, thanks to Saturn, everyone sort of gets what they asked for.

Overall, I think this story was interesting, but I feel bad for Emelye. Yeah I know she got her second choice, but she's really the only one losing in this situation.

Life is like a box of fancy chocolates.. there are always some crappy flavors... but enjoy the good ones.

I don't know about that pigs n taters... but at least these chocolates are labeled. 

The “Shoving Almost Every Courtly Love Rule Award” goes to ... Geoff with a G Chaucer… for “The Knight’s Tale!”

I am not kidding. Out of every story that we have read so far, this story is the ultimate portrayal of Courtly Love. The only rule missing is the whole “adultery in a marriage is cool” rule. All the jealousy, obsession, and suffering rules are present in the story.

Anyways, I feel like this tale is really about fortune and destiny. Arcite, Palomon, and Emelye’s futures seem to be predetermined by the games of the gods and goddesses. This story really reminds me of “The Iliad”. The Gods determined the destinies of the characters, but this does not necessarily mean that the mortals are powerless. They make the decisions of how to act if they are dealt with bad fortune or good fortune. (Which honestly, even if a character receives good fortune, do they really get to enjoy their good fortune for long? Cough… Arcite.) I mean, I feel like this guy’s destiny was determined by the gods from the beginning. Mercury tells him to go back to Athens… and he makes the decision to go back. This results in his death, but he probably would have died anyways from love deprivation. He makes the best of his “freak accident” death by dying in honor. Emelye’s destiny is to marry one of the knights. Even though she tries to get out of the marriage, Diana says no. Emelye decides to accept it, and she eventually does end up in a happy marriage with Palomon.

I frequently hear that this tale focuses on gender roles and feminism, but I disagree with this. Every man and woman is ultimately powerless to the gods. The gods decide the course and fate of everyone. The woman are portrayed as emotional and have the power to persuade; however, I do not think Chaucer added this in as a way to show feminism or gender roles. I mean Emelye can’t even get out of the marriage. It’s more to show that the true power lies in the hands of the gods. Before the battle, Chaucer goes into long descriptions about the extravagance of each temple and worships to the gods. In some ways, I feel like Chaucer is either mocking religion or showing the importance of devotion in religion. Overall, I think Chaucer is basically saying that…

Life is full of suffering… tough luck... but, you can make the best of it.

<---- Suffering

Happy Wife, Happy Life

          So the popular topic of conversation regarding this tale seems to be whether or not we think the knight learned his lesson in the end.  All I could think was well…he’s married now…isn’t that punishment enough? But all jokes aside, I can’t really say I was thinking about whether he learned his lesson or not by the time I finished the Wife of Bath’s tale.  I was strangely satisfied with the ending, actually.  Believe me that one definitely came as a surprise. 

          

          Actually, I kept referencing the Wife of Bath’s prologue instead.  The narrator of this story is the Wife herself, and she’s—for lack of a better term—a badass.  Many people think of her as an early feminist. (Not the man-hating type, but the real ones who take charge of their lives and do what they want.) The Wife loves men, actually, because she’s been married umpteen times.  At the end of her prologue her husband basically beats her up and she reciprocates with just as much force. She’s all like “always do what I say and we won’t have a problem again.” I can respect that…happy wife, happy life, eh?

          So with that in mind, I resolve to say that he did learn his lesson, in a way.  Now, I’m not condoning rape…but think about this: How many men actually find a definitive answer for what women want? And in a way this is totally true we want to have power over our men, or at least be equal with them.  And I kind of give him credit for being able to look past his wife’s ugliness long enough to consider that trusting her would be a good idea.  He puts all his power in her hands, and to quote the English version, he says, “You choose, for pleasing you now pleases me” (1235).  In that moment, he sacrifices all his power to her.  In the end, she was right all along, and he realizes that by the end of this story. Rather than just believe it because he wants to save his own life, he sees that what she says is true.  And I personally give him props for looking past her ugliness for two seconds she could show him the truth.  Can we say the same for some of the other men we've read about in these medieval stories? Relatively speaking, they kind of get a happy ending. 

          This story isn’t just about learning to respect women.  It’s also about learning to find humility and respect people in general.  Yeah, it’s about women gaining power (because the Wife is the ultimate symbol of power herself) but it’s also a great story to show how people deserve redemption and forgiveness. This knight lives because he serves as an example. He does a complete 180 by the end of this story.  Shouldn’t he get credit for that?  I think a happy ending is nice once in a while. 

Who knew Mean Girls, Britney and the Wife of Bath could relate somehow?

We have started reading the “Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale” by Geoffrey Chaucer and I have to say that it is a doozey. I have actually read this story twice before, once with Dr. MB and another time in high school. Luckily, because of this, the Middle English did not scare me as much as it did the first time. But a word to the wise- the notes and translations on the side of the page help immensely! But anyways, back to the Wife of Bath. What is everyone’s opinion of her? I confess that my opinion of her has changed after having read the story several times now. My first impression was to thrust the story aside because the ease with which the Wife flouted her escapades and manipulations over the men in her life made me sick. However, I have begun to wonder if she was not just a product of her time period? Like we have been saying in class, women had little to no power in medieval times. Maybe the Wife of Bath’s prologue and her life’s accomplishments are just an over exaggeration of what she really wants in life- power. The Wife has had five husbands- not too farfetched a fate in this day and age to be honest. She said that she has had three good husbands and two bad. (197) What I found most saddening about this prologue was the story about the one husband that she married for love. His name was Janekyn and he was her fifth husband (303). How cruel it must be, (though she was twice his age) to love someone and marry them for love and then to find that love to be imperfect.

 

But I digress, there is so much to say about the Wife’s actual tale, and I still cannot tell you whether I like it or not. I suppose I am relieved that the knight in question actually learned that what women want most is a choice, a chance for equality. However, do I believe he deserved redemption for his crimes in the beginning of the story?

 

 

Absolutely not. I really just do not believe that he, at the end of the story, deserved to have a wife that was both beautiful and good. I mean…he raped a young maiden for the love of Pete! Perhaps some of my group members could share their opinions on this? Does this knight deserve his rewards at the end of the story? OR am I missing the point completely…maybe it is about the woman? Maybe she chooses to be beautiful and good, not for him, but for herself?

Medieval Philadelphia

            If I read this story right, I believe it serves as a companion story to “The Knight of the Cart”. Both stories talk about love in two entirely different ways.  While Lancelot and Guinevere show the major follies of acts of love, I think Yvain presents the very noble aspect of the virtue.  Of course, this must include a lady in which Yvain falls deeply in love with…duh…but I’m way more interested in the almost brotherly love portrayed in this story. 

     First, with the lion.  The lion is so devoted to his master, he almost kills himself out of grief when he thinks his master is dead.  “Never have I heard told or described such grief, “the narrator says (298).  It also says he “threw himself about, clawing himself and screaming” (298). This is not unlike the lady at the beginning of the story whose lord was killed by Yvain.  So the story also shows the importance of grief.  It humbles you, makes you human.  And I think that’s why I grew to like that lion so much.  And the people did too, after they saw his devotion to his master.  I gotta admit, though, I was scared he wouldn’t make it. And honestly, I would’ve been pissed.  But I think the best portrayal of this is when Yvain tells King Arthur’s people not to be afraid of him:  “Do not fear or harm the lion you see approaching, “ he says, “Please believe me. He is mine and I am his” (334).  It’s only an animal and the story makes me love him just as much.

Next, the whole fight with Sir Gawain pulled at my heart strings.  Of course the readers know who each of the knights is, but they certainly don’t (I won’t even address how stupid that notion is). So the whole time, they’re fighting each other and I’m just like NOOOOOO he’s your companion too! Anyway, one of the most palpable parts of this story is when Chrétien personifies Love and Hate.  Just like in “The Knight of the Cart,” Love is a character.  But here, I don’t think it’s used as an excuse for an act, but rather I think we’re meant to  see love in an optimistic light—one that stops hate.  “Now Hate is ready for the forward attack, spurring and pricking against Love whenever he can, and Love does not even stir” (329). I find that absolutely beautiful.  When they recognize each other and cease fighting, King Arthur says, 

there is great love between you and prove this when each declares his own defeat” (333).

I think that Yvain represents everything Lancelot doesn’t.  He’s noble, not a hypocrite, and does everything—successfully—to nobly gain his woman back.  These two stories coupled together teach us parallel lessons about love and nobility, just in different ways.

            And all of this started because Kay had to be a dick.