Showing posts with label Decameron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Decameron. Show all posts

Friday, February 18, 2011

Decameron, Readings for Day 2:

Because the stories told in Decameron are unrelated, and we read so many of them, I had trouble figuring out what to focus on: which stories are most important? Which themes should I pick apart and focus on? However, while feeling overwhelmed by the number of anecdotes, I simultaneously felt that they were in essence very similar.
I think it is interesting to look at Boccaccio's purpose and approach to art, love, and God. In the introduction to 4th day, Boccaccio says "the Muses are ladies, and although ladies do not rank as highly as Muses, nevertheless they resemble them at first sight, and hence it is natural, if only for this reason, that I should be fond of them" (289). Here, it seems that he uses artistic purpose to justify natural desires, which echoes what seems to be a larger purpose of the book: by artistically describing scandal and lust, it becomes less shocking and more acceptable. Boccaccio more explicitly describes his purpose in the epilogue, explaining how "like all other things in the world, stories, whatever their nature, may be harmful or useful, depending on the listener" (799). His tone here implies a goal of artistry rather than didacticism. Much like Ovid, it appears the Boccaccio's purpose is primarily to reveal multiple perspectives and illuminate common situations, and it is up to the reader, and beyond the authors' control, to extract whatever meaning they may.  Also notable, in contrast, to Ovid, is Boccaccio's lack of hubris. He says, "there is no craftsman other than God whose work is whole and faultless in every respect" (800), indicating a humility towards his own work that certainly does not exist in Metamorphoeses, Aeneid, or the Homeric works. This may indicate his more plebeian purpose, and the fact that he is making no judgment on these universal human desires, but, as a human, is subject to them himself.

Another similarity to Ovid is the number of botched "metamorphoses" that exist in Decameron, which in some cases also echo Dante's idea of contrapasso. For instance, after Friar Alberto convinces the woman that he is "angel gabriel" going to bed with her, his punishment is to be honeyed and feathered (311). This "metamorphosis" is obviously artificial, temporary, and failed, but temporarily "turning" the Friar into an animal is a reflection on the animalistic baseness of his deception, and further echoes the idea of humans behaving as animals during the plague. However, the hilarity of the image of the Friar also adds levity in light of the animalistic horrors of the plague. This punishment is also a contrapasso in that after deceiving the woman, he is forced to appear deceptively to others (in costume).
A more obvious contrapasso-like punishment, which simultaneously echoes the story that Vertumnus tells Pomona about Iphis, who spurns her lover and turns to stone, describes another woman who has rejected her lover, who then, after death, "Every Friday at this hour I overtake her in this part of the woods, and slaughter her in the manner you are about to observe . . . on the remaining days I hunt her down in other places where she was cruel to me in thought and deed" (422). This punishment involving love seemed vaguely out of place among the other stories of Decameron, because elsewhere, regardless of amorous transgressions, no one is severely punished. I'm not sure what Boccaccio is doing here!

However, Boccaccio does seem to make some comment about appropriate versus inappropriate love. In the fourth story on 5th day, which is essentially the only love story without any wrath or complications, the man notices "her charming ways and impeccable manners, and, seeing that she was marriageable age, he fell passionately in love with her" (394). Here, logic and consideration of appropriateness of situation comes before lust, and it appears to be this rationality that enables relatively peaceful marriage. In other stories love and lust take precedent over rationality, and, though hilarity generally ensues, it is clear that Boccaccio does not view lust and love negatively. When the woman whose husband won't sleep with her is debating taking on a lover, she muses, "for I shall simply be breaking the laws of marriage, whereas he is breaking those of Nature as well" (434). Based on this, and the universality of lust in Boccaccio's stories, it seems that natural laws are more important than contractual laws, and that the physical often does, and perhaps rightly should, prevail over the logical. This is especially relevant in time of plague, which is essentially a massive physical force undermining all attempts at reason and rationalization. Boccaccio's views on love are further elucidated in introduction to the story of Guiscardo and Ghismonda, which says "Love, to whose eyes nothing remains concealed" (293). Here, Love is depicted on being omniscient in a similar way that God is omniscient, casting Love in a semi-divine, powerful, and valuable role.

I found the question of intelligence and agency that was addressed at numerous points in the text to be particularly interesting and particularly paradoxical. One of the storytellers explains that "men will come to realize that women are just as clever as their husbands" (490), in a clear acknowledgment of the equality of female intellect. However, there is also an irony here, because though females may be equally intelligent, they nonetheless are given very little agency and in many of the stories, are traded around, married off, and made into mistresses at the whim of the men around them (particularly notable in the story of the woman with nine successive husbands). By setting up this paradox of intelligence and agency, Boccaccio seems either to be making the argument that in fact intelligence is not in itself valuable, or sympathizing with women's lack of sway in their own lives (I'm not sure how likely the latter is). Boccaccio's stories often include some element of intelligent trickery, and it is often here that the hilarity and the action lie, suggesting that Boccaccio places high value on wit (though still acknowledges that it doesn't directly lead to agency). However, trickery is a questionable manifestation of wittiness, as exemplified in the tale of Elena, who tricks her suitor into waiting in the cold, prefaced by the warning: "it will teach you to think twice before playing tricks on people" (586). Perhaps Boccaccio values intelligence, but only with this caveat: it's acceptable that women are smart as long as men triumph in the end, as the spurned lover does in this story.
One final twist to the conception of female agency is in the story of Gualtieri marrying a peasant girl, who "was so gracious and benign towards her husbands' subjects . . . whereas they had been wont to say that Gualtieri had shown lack of discretion in taking this woman as his wife, they now regarded him as the wisest and most discerning man on earth. For no one apart from Gultieri could ever have perceived the noble qualities that lay concealed beneath her ragged and rustic attire" (787). Here, though the woman had no control whatsoever in marrying Gualtieri, she has significant impact on his public image. It is somewhat ironic that females are so powerless in marriage and yet have such dramatic influence on public view of husband, but also offers slight condolence for the general lack of female agency: this is where they can exert at least a little control.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Decameron, Readings for Day 1: Desire, Truth, and Bending the Rules

Background of Plague
Though I'm not sure whether Boccaccio would have read History of the Peloponnesian War, his description of the Plague at the beginning of the Decameron certainly mirrors Thucydides' description of the plague in Athens. Both authors describe the physical infliction of the plague in grotesque detail, but also focus on the accompanying degeneration of social order. Examples of this abound in the Prologue, but I felt that Boccaccio epitomized this chaos in his mention of the animals who are given free reign to eat and roam, but "after a whole day's feasting, many of these animals, as though posessing the power of reason, would return glutted in the evening to their own quarters, without any shepherd to guide them" (12). This is on contrast to many of the people who, believing they have no time to live, are able to exercise no restraint. This description of animals having more reason and control than humans emphasizes the extent to which societal values, rationality, and civility have collapsed as a result of the plague.
I noticed an obvious contrast between the world of the plague and the characters/setting in which the tales of the Decameron are told. The four women and three men are all described as exceptionally tidy, polite, beautiful, and civilized, and the house that they retreat to is luxurious and appealing (19). The group even unanimously decides to have a ruler, and fairly divides up the power by allowing each member to be queen for a day (20). This is the epitome of civilization and order. Initially, I was confused by this dichotomy: why bother setting the book amidst the plague if the "action" occurs in such a removed setting? However, judging by the baseness of some of the stories told, I felt like Boccaccio may use this physical removal to emphasize that the impossibility of actually escaping the chaos, brutishness, and carnal emotions that arise as part of the plague, regardless of apparent physical civility and well-being.

Corruption
Another theme relating to disruption of social order is corruption in religious institutions. It is evident from the levity with which Boccaccio tells these stories that he is not as serious a Catholic as, say, Dante or Augustine, and that his purpose, while maybe not directly to mock the church, is far more light-hearted than that of Inferno or Confessions. For instance, in the second novella of the first day, the narrator describes how Jehannot knew that if his Jewish friend visited the court of Rome, "not only will he not become Christian, but, if he had already turned Christian, he would become a Jew again without fail" (39). Jehannot recognizes the immense corruption within the Church, yet somewhat paradoxically still wants to a) remain a member himself (conversion is not even mentioned), and b) recruit other people to the corrupt institution. To me, this was quite humorous, but I think also illustrates the high level of awareness of corruption, and may be a comment on the necessity of reform (unlike the Jew in this story, most people will not join the church if it remains so corrupt).
Perhaps an even more direct mockery of religious institutions is the story about the nuns seducing a man who works at the convent. The former garden helper, Nuto, says of the nuns: "they seem to me to have the devil in them" (193), which immediately sets up the irony of their alleged religious devotion and actual sexual deviance. In deciding to seduce the gardener, one of the nuns says, "we are constantly making Him promises that we never keep! What does it matter if we fail to keep this one?" (196). In addition to pointing out the lack of adherence to Christian ideals within the church, the nuns devil-may- care (pun intended) attitude to their promises to God echoes the lack of restraint and morality exercised by individuals during the plague. Furthermore, the nuns emphasize the universality and relative harmlessness of human "carnal desires," perhaps suggesting that it is unrealistic for the Catholic church to regulate and limit sexuality (similar to Ovid's comment on the feasibility of regulating human sexuality through the Lex Julia).
One other, hilarious, episode that somewhat ridicules Christianity is of course the "devil in hell" episode (277), depicts two people using religion to justify sex- a perverse but remarkably biting depiction of how individuals can essentially justify anything they want via religion, which, most of the time, is somewhat illegitimate.

Truth
Amidst these descriptions of chaos and corruption, both within and without the Church, I did find an implicit emphasis on truthfulness in these early novellas. For instance, in the third story of the first novella, Saladin's attempts to deceive the Jew fail entirely, but when he simply asks for money straight out, his requests are happily granted. Similarly, Messer Riciardo's former wife initially pretends not to recognize him, but, when confronted, gives him the brutally honest reason for why she doesn't want to come back to him (his impotence), and as a result lives relatively happily ever after (183). He is somewhat upset, but she gets to remain married to her new husband. In both of these cases, everyone ends up better off when truth prevails over deception, which seems to argue for the importance of truth as a basic human value, and perhaps also to contrast the lack of transparency and accompanying hidden corruption in the Church.

Desire
A final theme that is extremely prevalent is desire. Generally, the men telling the stories have a consensus that female desire is more potent than male desire, and that females are less loyal. For example, Dioneo laments "the stupidity . . . of all the other men who are given to thinking . . . that while they are gadding about in various parts of the world with one woman and another, the wives they left behind are simply twiddling their thumbs" (179), emphasizing the infidelity of women. However, the fact that Dioneo laments the "stupidity" rather than the acts themselves, and points out that the men are also "gadding about . . . with one woman and another" illustrates a perspective that this female infidelity is neither surprising nor particularly wrong- a view very different from what we've seen in Roman and Greek value systems.
Another interesting counterpoint to this depiction of human desire is the story of the woman who was married nine times. In one of the many exchanges from husband to husband, 
"the flames of his desire burned correspondingly fiercer, and,  unperturbed by the crime he had just committed, he lay down at her side, his hands still dripping with blood, and made love to the woman who was half-asleep and believed him to be the Prince" (135). This grotesque image that so graphically combines blood and desire casts love as a dangerous force, and echoes a similar perverse combination of sex and violence that occurs when women are captured as "booty" of war. This episode puts a damper on the otherwise humorous and lighthearted tone with which Boccaccio addresses desire, and even offers a bit of insight and sympathy into the powerlessness of females in the context of love and desire- again, a perspective we have rarely seen.