Monthly Archives: August 2007

If a married man

The Jade Despoiled

 

The Jade Despoiled from the Cent Nouvelles nouvelles.

By Messire Chrestien De Dygoigne.

_Of a married man who found his wife with another man, and devised means to get from her her money, clothes, jewels, and all, down to her chemise, and then sent her away in that condition, as shall be afterwards recorded.

It is no new and strange thing for wives to make their husbands jealous,–or indeed, by God, cuckolds. And so it happened formerly, in the city of Antwerp, that a married woman, who was not the chastest person in the world, was desired by a good fellow to do–you know what. And she, being kind and courteous, did not like to refuse the request, but gladly consented, and they two continued this life for a long time. In the end, Fortune, tired of always giving them good luck, willed that the husband should catch them in the act, much to his own surprise. Perhaps though it would be hard to say which was the most surprised–the lover, or his mistress, or the husband. Nevertheless, the lover, with the aid of a good sword he had, made his escape without getting any harm. There remained the husband and wife, and what they said to each other may be guessed. After a few words on both sides, the husband, thinking to himself that as she had commenced to sin it would be difficult to break her of her bad habits, and that if she did sin again it might come to the knowledge of other people, and he might be dishonoured; and considering also that to beat or scold her would be only lost labour, determined to see if he could not drive her out, and never let her disgrace his house again. So he said to his wife;

“Well, I see that you are not such as you ought to be; nevertheless, hoping that you will never again behave as you have behaved, let no more be said. But let us talk of another matter. I have some business on hand which concerns me greatly, and you also. We must put in it all our jewels; and if you have any little hoard of money stored away, bring it forth, for it is required.”

“By my oath,” said the wench, “I will do so willingly, if you will pardon me the wrong I have done you.”

“Don’t speak about it,” he replied, “and no more will I.”

She, believing that she had absolution and remission of her sins, to please her husband, and atone for the scandal she had caused, gave him all the money she had, her gold rings, rich stuffs, certain well-stuffed purses, a number of very fine kerchiefs, many whole furs of great value–in short, all that she had, and that her husband could ask, she gave to do him pleasure.

“The devil!” quoth he; “still I have not enough.”

When he had everything, down to the gown and petticoat she wore, he said, “I must have that gown.”

“Indeed!” said she. “I have nothing else to wear. Do you want me to go naked?”

“You must,” he said, “give it me, and the petticoat also, and be quick about it, for either by good-will or force, I must have them.”

She, knowing that force was not on her side, stripped off her gown and petticoat, and stood in her chemise.

“There!” she said; “Have I done what pleases you?”

“Not always,” he replied. “If you obey me now, God knows you do so willingly–but let us leave that and talk of another matter. When I married you, you brought scarcely anything with you, and the little that you had you have dissipated or forfeited. There is no need for me to speak of your conduct–you know better than anyone what you are, and being what you are, I hereby renounce you, and say farewell to you for ever! There is the door! go your way; and if you are wise, you will never come into my presence again.”

The poor wench, more astounded than ever, did not dare to stay after this terrible reproof, so she left, and went, I believe, to the house of her lover, for the first night, and sent many ambassadors to try and get back her apparel and belongings, but it was no avail. Her husband was headstrong and obstinate, and would never hear her spoken about, and still less take her back, although he was much pressed both by his own friends and those of his wife.

She was obliged to earn other clothes, and instead of her husband live with a friend until her husband’s wrath is appeased, but, up to the present, he is still displeased with her, and will on no account see her.

The French Decameron

Cent Nouvelle Nouvelles

Les Cent Nouvelles nouvelles, here published as an Ace pulp.

The Cent Nouvelles nouvelles is an anonymous collection of nouvelles supposed to be narrated by various persons at the court of Philippe le Bon, and collected by Antoine de la Sale in the 1456-1457. The work borrowed from Boccaccio‘s Decameron (1350-1353) and has in fact been subtitled as the French Decameron (a title which has also been given to the Heptameron (1558)). It is similar to Chaucer‘s Canterbury Tales (1390s), the Contes et nouvelles en vers (1665-66) by Fontaine and Brantôme‘s Les Vies des Dames galantes (1665-1666).

The nouvelle as genre is considered the first example of literary prose in French, the first text in this category is generally cited as Les Cent Nouvelles nouvelles.

More than thirty-two noblemen or squires contributed the stories, with some 14 or 15 taken from Giovanni Boccaccio, and as many more from Gian Francesco Poggio Bracciolini or other Italian writers, or French fabliaux, but about 70 of them appear to be original.

Stories

 

Here in a Charles Carrington edition

The stories are bawdy, ribald and burlesque, with titles such as The Monk-Doctor, The Armed Cuckold, The Drunkard In Paradise, The Castrated Clerk and the The Husband As Doctor.

 

Control by Corbijn

[Youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrFKu3xwTlQ]

On 17 May 2007 Anton Corbijn‘s first feature film Control about the life of Joy Division frontman Ian Curtis premiered to rave reviews Cannes Film Festival. The film is based on Deborah Curtis’s book Touching From A Distance about her late husband and the new biography Torn Apart by longtime Mancunians Lindsay Reade (Tony Wilson’s ex-wife) and Mick Middles.

Back from Le Crotoy

What I Want by Fireball

Just got back from Le Crotoy where the clip above was a summer hit.

I spent two weeks with my children at Le Crotoy, a coastal village in northern France where Joan of Arc was captured before her execution. We had a wonderful time. I caught up on some reading and finished Georges Wolinski‘s Open Letter to My Wife, Being There by Jerzy Kosiński, Theodore Roszak‘s Flicker (extremely boring novel with interesting bits on the American reception of French theory, the love of films and the Cathars), Kronhausen‘s Pornography and the law: The psychology of erotic realism and pornography (no mention of Sade in a work on obscenity?, interesting texts by Poggio‘s Facetiae (placing him on a par with Aretino and Rabelais)). Also stories by de Maupassant (Le Horla, Tellier and Chevelure), and the exquisite Exquisite Corpse by Robert Irwin (a tale of amour fou reminiscent of Before She Met Me by Julian Barnes). I also managed to skim most of Louis Paul Boon’s historical masterpiece Het Geuzenboek (see Fugger bankers family, the Münster Rebellion).

The girls and me watched Maybe Baby, a comic dramatization of a writer’s own life (and the after-effects when his wife finds out) and the first two and a half episodes of Sex and the City, which was somewhat of an enigma to me (Aids not mentioned until episode 3?) because it was both trite and addictive. I sympathized with Mr. Big, at times loathed Carrie, loved Samantha and Miranda and had a crush on Charlotte.

I bought the 2007 sex special issue of Les Inrockuptibles and found La Beauté du Diable by Roland Villeneuve at the local market.

While I was away, Woebot did a Cutting Records thing, Esotika wrote on Hour of the Wolf by Bergman and Lee Hazlewood and Tony Wilson had died. And I was flattered to find that Simon Reynolds had linked to my blog.