Showing posts with label courtly love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label courtly love. Show all posts

Thursday, March 5, 2009

London, courtly love & another pair

And, before reaching the Seine, there was this.

Cruising the Thames with Fram the First ....

As I promised yesterday, I have delved further into the previously unpublished travel journals of Fram the First. And, what can I say? His travels began as a bad boy. His journals indicate that he was among the rampaging hordes that swept into Britain before moving along and searching for greener pastures and brighter gold in lands to the south.

By all indications, Fram the First did enjoy cruising on the Thames and bobbing in and out of coastal towns, as well. He thought the folk friendly, the girls beautiful and the ale adequate. He did, however, mention in his journal that he preferred traditional, realistic art to the modernistic stuff finding its way into the Saatchi Gallery in London town.

My assumption is that had Fram the First been heard of beyond his 27th year, he would have grown to enjoy art ranging from blue girls to green girls. There might be more to be told regarding Fram the First's frantic existence. Apparently, he did make one earlier, civilian trip in, about and around the Continent, however, he was traveling with tintype camera gear during those voyages, which makes it difficult to relay the sights he saw.

There also exists a legend that he was among the first Norsemen to arrive in present-day Minnesota. I shall check into it.

The lover is bewildered, helpless ....

I became wrapped up in the notion of romance a few days ago, even to the point where I began studying it again in literary terms. (What can I say? English majors, i.e., witless fools.) By study, I mean examining how writers and literary movements over the centuries have viewed romance and recorded it. I have discovered that I probably am a "courtly love" man. A brief description:

"According to the system, falling in love is accompanied by great emotional disturbances; the lover is bewildered, helpless, tortured by mental and physical pain ... He agonizes over his condition and indulges in endless self-questioning and reflections on the nature of love and his own wretched state. His condition improves when he is accepted, and he is inspired by his love to great deeds. He and his lady pledge ... and must remain faithful in spite of all obstacles ... C.S. Lewis has made a detailed study of courtly love in 'The Allegory of Love'."

I did not stop there. I continued by adding historical study of romance to the mix. In this instance, I was thinking primarily in terms of how my Scandinavian ancestors viewed it. From the "The Poetic Edda," specifically within the "Hovamol -- The Ballad of the High One:"

"Soft words shall he speak and wealth shall he offer
Who longs for a maiden's love,
And the beauty praise of the maiden bring;
He wins whose wooing is best."

and this:

"The head alone knows what dwells near the heart,
A man knows his mind alone;
No sickness is worse to one who is wise
Than to lack the longed-for joy."

and one more:

"Fault with another let no man find
For what touches many a man;
Wise men oft into witless fools
Are made by mighty love."

Technology races forward, but wisdom and knowledge were born long before any of us. It is there to assist us if we wish to look for it. No date can be ascribed to the "Hovamol" but, undoubtedly, parts of it are relics of ancient Germanic poetry.

There are women who make me shake in my boots, but .... time to stop writing and to resume my studies before I get any deeper into trouble. To be continued ....

Night run & the magic girl ....

Here are two more true tales told in column form rather than in paragraph form. This is sort of fun.

Night run ....

I miss seeing the stars at night
beneath clean, clear, country skies,
while running along a graveled road
at midnight in January,
with the temperature below zero,
dressed in insulated clothing and boots,
smoking a cigarette, as I run.
I did not dream after such a night,
after running the frozen road beneath the stars.


Magic girl …

I look at her face, I stare into her eyes.
She is there yet, the girl from long ago.
Her smile has dimmed only a slight degree,
but her face shows scars from tears,
a lonely expression there for all to see.

I sense her there, the girl from long ago,
I know she is she, and once she was for me,
but how do I know what is left inside her?
Is she magic still, or has life changed her?
Can a woman return, a magic girl to be?


Music Note: Listening to and sort of watching David Bowie ....
Specifically, the "Glass Spider" tour ....

(Third time in about four or five weeks .... why?)

Something special ....