Twelve medieval scholars from a wide range of disciplines, including law, literature, and religion address the question: What did it mean to possess a voice - or to be without one - during the Middle Ages? This collection reveals how the philosophy, theology, and aesthetics of the voice inhabit some of the most canonical texts of the Middle Ages.
Twelve medieval scholars from a wide range of disciplines, including law, literature, and religion address the question: What did it mean to possess a voice - or to be without one - during the Middle Ages? This collection reveals how the philosophy, theology, and aesthetics of the voice inhabit some of the most canonical texts of the Middle Ages.
"In his song, Lanqan li jorn, the early-twelfth-century troubadour Jaufre Rudel expresses a sense of wonder and uncertainty about the future, one that he maps onto his perception of geography as complex, interwoven, and often unknowable. The song proclaims Jaufre's intention to travel eastward to the Crusade front as a Christian pilgrim, and to unite there with his beloved Lady (generally understood as the Countess of Tripoli), the object of his amor de loing [love from afar]. Jaufre expresses both ambivalence and a sense of possibility as he prepares to depart outremar. In Jaufre's ideology, distance suggests the multivalent difficulties inherent in this effort--the challenges of geographical travels and unknown roads; the emotional separation between lovers and uncertain pathways; and the subjective distances between the ideals of French courtliness, Christian values, and his imagining of the land of Saracens. Because the pathways that lie before him--the ports and roads--are so many and so unfathomable, Jaufre cannot prophesy the outcome of this journey. As Jaufre contemplated the unknown East, he could not have predicted the impact of the Crusade efforts or the song-making traditions in which he participated. According to his vida, or biographical sketch (although these were often fictionalized), Jaufre would die in the East while on the Crusade venture; having often imagined the Countess of Tripoli, he would become ill on the journey, arriving in the Syrian county only just in time to be embraced his beloved and die in her arms. Jaufre was one of many creators of the Crusade period to contemplate a new world, one marked by Crusading, through song. In doing so, he employed geographical rhetoric in ways that engaged his belief systems about love, politics, religion, and space. In this book, I locate ideologies of early Crusade culture as expressed in the Occitanian song (in the south of modern-day France), particularly in Latin devotional song and troubadour lyric. Such songs engage their Crusading context through text and melody, through metaphors of travel, distance, and geography. I argue that these songs reflect Crusade perspectives, articulate regional beliefs and local identities, and demonstrate the rhetorical and expressive possibilities of music and poetry in combination. Today, in keeping with the concepts of mouvance and re-invention, as articulated by Paul Zumthor and Amelia Van Vleck among others, we understand troubadour song as a site of re-creation rather than fixity. Troubadour songs circulated abundantly in oral transmission, long before they were committed to writing; each performance of a given song was subject to change and reinvention, with performance acting not as repetition, but as an act of re-composition, improvisation, or variation, aided, but not dictated, by memory. Troubadour songs may exist in multiple variant copies across multiple manuscripts, or they may survive today without any written record of their melodies at all, perhaps once so well known that their notation was not needed. Zumthor thus explained, "the 'work' floats, offering not a fixed shape of firm boundaries but a constantly shifting nimbus . . . Although the production of an individual, it [a song] is characterized by the sense of potential incompleteness is caries within itself." As he looked forward uncertainly into his own travels and his future, Jaufre understood his songs as fluid, as templates for further composition, and as sites of communal, rather than individual, creation. Indeed, among the troubadours, Jaufre can be considered an "extremist" (in the words of Amelia Van Vleck) with regard to transmission and re-composition, as he was particularly explicit about inviting others to change and improve upon his song, placing the singer on par with the composer as a creative agent, and rejecting the idea of single or original author with respect to his work. For Jaufre, the audience too played a role in defining the song; the experience of reception essentially contributed to the process of re-creation. Thus Rupert Pickens wrote, regarding his edition of Jaufre's poems: "It soon became apparent . . . that not only can 'authentic' texts not be discovered, much less 'established' . . . but that, given the condition of the manuscripts and the esthetic principles involving textual integrity affirmed by Jaufre himself . . . the question of 'authenticity' . . . was largely irrelevant.""--
Five hundred years before “Jabberwocky” and Tender Buttons, writers were already preoccupied with the question of nonsense. But even as the prevalence in medieval texts of gibberish, babble, birdsong, and allusions to bare voice has come into view in recent years, an impression persists that these phenomena are exceptions that prove the rule of the period’s theologically motivated commitment to the kernel of meaning over and against the shell of the mere letter. This book shows that, to the contrary, the foundational object of study of medieval linguistic thought was vox non-significativa, the utterance insofar as it means nothing whatsoever, and that this fact was not lost on medieval writers of various kinds. In a series of close and unorthodox readings of works by Priscian, Boethius, Augustine, Walter Burley, Geoffrey Chaucer, and the anonymous authors of the Cloud of Unknowing and St. Erkenwald, it inquires into the way that a number of fourteenth-century writers recognized possibilities inherent in the accounts of language transmitted to them from antiquity and transformed those accounts into new ideas, forms, and practices of non-signification. Retrieving a premodern hermeneutics of obscurity in order to provide materials for an archeology of the category of the literary, Medieval Nonsense shows how these medieval linguistic textbooks, mystical treatises, and poems were engineered in such a way as to arrest the faculty of interpretation and force it to focus on the extinguishing of sense that occurs in the encounter with language itself.
In Monumental Sounds, Matthew G. Shoaf examines interactions between sight and hearing in spectacular church decoration in Italy between 1260 and 1320. In this "age of vision," authorities' concerns about whether and how worshipers listened to sacred speech spurred Giotto and other artists to reconfigure sacred stories to activate listening and ultimately bypass phenomenal experience for attitudes of inner receptivity. New naturalistic styles served that work, prompting viewers to give voice to depicted speech and guiding them toward spiritually fruitful auditory discipline. This study reimagines narrative pictures as site-specific extensions of a cultural system that made listening a meaningful practice. Close reading of religious texts, poetry, and art historiography augments Shoaf's novel approach to pictorial naturalism and art's multisensorial dimensions. This book has received the Weiss-Brown Publication Subvention Award from the Newberry Library. The award supports the publication of outstanding works of scholarship that cover European civilization before 1700 in the areas of music, theater, French or Italian literature, or cultural studies.
Between late antiquity and the fifteenth century, theologians, philosophers, and poets struggled to articulate the correct relationship between sound and sense, creating taxonomies of sounds based on their capacity to carry meaning. In World of Echo, Adin E. Lears traces how medieval thinkers adopted the concept of noise as a mode of lay understanding grounded in the body and the senses. With a broadly interdisciplinary approach, Lears examines a range of literary genres to highlight the poetic and social effects of this vibrant discourse, offering close readings of works by Geoffrey Chaucer and William Langland, as well as the mystics Richard Rolle and Margery Kempe. Each of these writers embraced an embodied experience of language resistant to clear articulation, even as their work reflects inherited anxieties about the appeal of such sensations. A preoccupation with the sound of language emerged in the form of poetic soundplay at the same time that mysticism and other forms of lay piety began to flower in England. As Lears shows, the presence of such emphatic aural texture amplified the cognitive importance of feeling in conjunction with reason and was a means for the laity—including lay women—to cultivate embodied forms of knowledge on their own terms, in precarious relation to existing clerical models of instruction. World of Echo offers a deep history of the cultural and social hierarchies that coalesce around aesthetic experience and gives voice to alternate ways of knowing.
We are living in an age in which the relationship between reading and space is evolving swiftly. Cutting-edge technologies and developments in the publication and consumption of literature continue to uncover new physical, electronic, and virtual contexts in which reading can take place. In comparison with the accessibility that has accompanied these developments, the medieval reading experience may initially seem limited and restrictive, available only to a literate few or to their listeners; yet attention to the spaces in which medieval reading habits can be traced reveals a far more vibrant picture in which different kinds of spaces provided opportunities for a wide range of interactions with and contributions to the texts being read. Drawing on a rich variety of material, this collection of essays demonstrates that the spaces in which reading took place (or in which reading could take place) in later medieval England directly influenced how and why reading happened.
Arguing that women’s "silencing" is in part the result of women’s voices being treated as the white noise of history, Avid Ears: Medieval Gossips, Sound, and the Art of Listening explores the historical representation of female voices as actual acoustic phenomena. The volume focuses on English antifeminist satire during the linguistically dynamic late Middle Ages to argue that the resonant gossips’ circle offers a cultural poetics of listening for those attentive to medieval auditory regimes. Understanding what it means to listen from both medieval and modern perspectives can challenge, so this book argues, the specular logic informing a long satirical tradition that casts the noisy speaking woman as the nemesis who confirms the social authority of the erudite man. Discerning the acoustic preoccupations of the gossips’ circle inevitably hovering behind the shrew, Avid Ears explains why the threat posed by a woman talking back to a man is only exceeded by that of a woman speaking to other women. The first book-length study to use sound studies to explore how gender registers in the medieval literary soundscape, Avid Ears attunes critics to how and what we hear when women speak in literature.
Frontcover -- Contents -- Acknowledgements -- Abbreviations -- Introduction: Words and Other Fragments -- 1 Speaking Up and Shutting Up: Expression and Suppression in the Old English Mary of Egypt and Ancrene Wisse -- 2 What Comes Unnaturally: Unspeakable Acts -- 3 Crying Wolf: Gender and Exile in Bisclavret and Wulf and Eadwacer -- 4 Taking the Words Out of Her Mouth: Glossing Glossectomy in Tales of Philomela -- Conclusion: After Words -- Bibliography -- Index
