Celestina, Acts III-VI

I found these acts to be so different from the others based on the fact that there is more internalized dialogue from Celestina. In the previous two acts, though she was introduced as the bold protagonist, there were almost no inner monologues, if any at all (though nearly every other character had moments of thought to themselves). Right in the beginning of Act Four, we witness Celestina’s first instance of speaking to herself and analyzing her situation. It seems noteworthy that this first takes place so far into the play; this may be the author’s attempt to build up Celestina’s outward reputation in the reader’s mind before revealing her true flaws. As Celestina has been described and celebrated as an almost superhuman power up until now in the play, her thoughts display to the viewer her real human conflicts. Like all of the other characters (and all humans in general), she is nervous of her plans and experiences doubts and worries. Though Celestina seemed infallible and powerful before this exhibit of self-questioning, this instance only gives her character an added depth and complexity. Now we understand that there is a great difference between her confident, almost arrogant exterior and her flawed, frightened interior. Though she readily guarantees to deliver all that her clients wish, she laments after making her first promises what happens if she cannot keep them with Calisto: “What will Calisto say? What will he do? What will he think, say that I’ve lied to him and revealed his plan in order to get money from the other side?” (45). She even must remind herself to be courageous (46). In her musings, she first carefully reviews what has happened (noting the nature and order of events), and then considers the possible consequences and outcomes of her actions. This proves how she is always thinking and planning, constantly assessing her environment and finding new ways to dominate it. Though she is not very pious, she is admirable in her composition of a polished façade, composed of her systematic arrangements and unapologetic statements of her own power.

Celestina, Acts I, II

I'm afraid I'm not so familiar with the story of Adam and Eve, so please bear with me :)

The fact that the opening scene takes place in a garden is clearly representative of the Garden of Eden. Calisto, in a role representing Adam, is rejected by Melibea, who represents Eve. The fact that Melibea is portrayed to be somewhat wicked or evil in denying Calisto is very true to the story of Adam and Eve, in which women are demonized. Calisto wants to pursue his one-sided infatuation regardless of Melibea’s feelings, expecting her to love him back just as much. In this sense, Calisto employs Adam’s characteristic of separation from knowledge: he denies Melibea’s lack of interest in him, further courting her and expecting reciprocation; this self-sheltering and distancing from the truth is symbolic of Adam’s disinterest in attaining the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Melibea, with Eve’s characteristic curiosity, is convinced by the serpent (the devil) to try the fruit, thus supplying her with knowledge of both good and evil (and therefore, of the reality of the world). Melibea thinks (which is quite unlike Calisto) and comes to the conclusion that she has no ambition for Calisto, and that he will have to accept this. In tandem with the Bible, just as Eve is attacked for wanting to break free of ignorance, Melibea is blamed for not breaking free of the traditional courtship of a man she doesn’t care for. As Eve is blamed for having a curiosity outside of her own being (unlike Adam), Melibea is interested in her life options outside of Calisto’s offers. Melibea represents truth in her actions: there is a world apart from the courting of one childish, desperate man. In eating the fruit, the reality of their lack of equal feelings is revealed- though Calisto further denies this, viewing Melibea’s judgment as clouded by a separate force (the serpent, or the devil for Eve). Therefore, Calisto sees Melibea’s disinterest as a symptom: as a work of the devil that should be cured or overtaken immediately.

The Decameron, part 6

Day Nine, Story Two
1. Once again we encounter a story that displays a less than flattering view of the church. By now, the readers have become used to this sort of behavior from people of religious positions. In fact, there has not been one positive review of Christianity. Just as the reader does not think twice about her actions, these sinning characters do not, and this story’s nun does not: instead of feeling discomfort from the fact that she has unholy desires, she is instead discontented that she and the man “bore this fruitless love for some time” (660). This character, like the majority of the others we have read about, considers her own pleasure more important than her religion or of the needs of others. And once again, the Abbess does not reprimand the sinning nun and again proves herself to be just as fallible: she is interrupted to punish the nun while “in the company of a priest whom she often had brought to her bedroom” (661). Here, Boccaccio manages to throw another member of the clergy into an already blasphemous situation. Even worse, neither the nun nor the Abbess resolve to change their ways, and instead decide that it is “impossible for people to defend themselves from the desires of the flesh” (662). These nuns (and the priest) are not very good examples of clergy members, and it is clear that Boccaccio wrote it to seem that way.
Day Ten, Story Ten
2. To be honest, I was very disappointed that this was the final story. Boccaccio has given us plenty of other better and more creative stories, with more entertaining endings and more complex characters. Gualtieri definitely does not deserve his wife’s love: she puts up with his ridiculous and cruel antics and never stands up for herself (and for whatever reason, the characters consider this a virtue). Griselda is tested supposedly because she is not to let her newfound power and riches go to her head; but it is clearly her husband who requires this testing. Also, if Gualtieri was to test a wife for thinking too highly of herself and believing she deserves the luxurious lifestyle; he should be testing a woman of noble lineage who would be more likely to not appreciate the marriage. Griselda’s clothing represents her honored position as Gualtieri’s wife (and is not Boccaccio’s strongest use of symbols). If anyone deserves an obedient love, it is Griselda- who, as Dioneo points out, would deserve “another man to warm her wool in order to get herself a nice-looking dress out of the affair”! (798). This story is different in the way that there is no person who sins outright; instead there is a debate as to how justified Gualtieri’s actions were. Though this was an interesting conflict in the tamer Erec and Enide, it’s not nearly as compelling when compared to the far more outrageous stories of The Decameron.

The Decameron, part 5

Day Eight, Story Seven
1. Is Rinieri’s revenge justified and equal to the torture Elena subjected him to?
I do not believe that Rinieri’s revenge is justified. Though it is understandable to want to subject someone to the same discomfort that you have experienced, Rinieri takes his “punishment” too far. As Boccaccio notes at the beginning of the next story, “Grievous and painful as Elena’s misfortunes were for the ladies to hear, they listened to them with restrained pity, since they felt she had in part deserved them, although at the same time they did consider the scholar to have been somewhat rigid, and fiercely relentless, not to mention cruel” (614). What Rinieri forgets is that he easily- perhaps too easily- fell for Elena’s trap in the beginning, abandoning all of his scholarly logic for a taste of love. In a way, his torture is partly his fault, because it takes Rinieri far too long to discover that he has been duped. He becomes completely shamed and embarrassed, and in his mind, the only way to gain back his honor is by shaming Elena in return. He is so overcome by his uncontrollable wrath that he must destroy Elena in order to regain confidence in himself (a juvenile form of getting back at someone). Though their respective gullibility and punishments are very similar, Rinieri does not take the high road and instead lowers himself to her level, thus making him not better than her. It seems that Rinieri has never considered that “the greatest revenge is living well”.
Day Eight, Story Eight
2. Through most of these stories there is a common theme of the trickster being tricked. At the end of this story, unlike the others, the characters come to a content resolution. Is this a fair ending?
I think this is somewhat of a ridiculous ending. There is not much fairness in it due to the fact that they are all cheaters, and have forgotten the fundamentals of marriage. The reason one person marries another is to be committed to him or her and only that person, and these characters have no concept of this. I think the reason that this is the only trickster story with a peaceful ending is because it is unrealistic for people who have manipulated each other and then get over it so easily. There is also a lot of contradiction in their actions. For example, Zeppa criticizes and bemoans Spinelloccio for betraying their friendship, but by the next day he is taking Spinelloccio’s same path with his friend’s wife, which she points out to him: “Is this what you had in mind when you invited me over? Now what about the love you bear for Spinecolloccio and your loyal friendship for him?” (617). These characters degrade and demoralize themselves and each other, but let it all go in the end- an obviously very unlikely outcome.

The Decameron, part four

Day Five, Story Ten
1. This story very clearly alludes to the homosexuality/bisexuality of the characters involved. How does the author address this issue? How is this story similar or different from the other tales of lust that we have read?
In the creation of this tale, Boccaccio proves that there is no sin to be spared from his writing. Pietro, though is very obviously implied to be gay: “[His wife] found herself with a husband who was more interested in other men than in her” (433). In his usual manner, Boccaccio does not directly name the sin committed by the characters involved (never saying outright that Pietro is gay), and in doing so levels homosexual actions with the other lustful activities. This story follows the same path as the others depicting lustful or adulterous attractions: though they are at first pegged as “wicked”, the characters rejoice in their “wrongful” practices in the end, without much objection from the storyteller (and not true moral statement from Boccaccio revealed). This sort of addressing of homosexuality is a telling glimpse of how it was (if only in secret) practiced at this time, despite its great punishments if discovered. Bisexuality is even depicted (which is still a somewhat taboo topic today). This should be not surprising, though; Boccaccio has had no trouble in exhibiting practically every other sin known to man (especially the ones that people typically avoid discussing, such as incest or bestiality). Boccaccio once again proves himself as the author willing to speak of the unspeakable action, without shame or embarrassment; and instead as almost embracing of each sin that constructs humanity.

Day Six, Story Ten
1. Here we see Brother Cipolla take advantage of other peoples’ faith. What does this say about his view of religion, and about the state of religion at the time?
Brother Cipolla is obviously motivated by his greed rather than his faith in God in all of his actions; it even seems that he became a member of the congregation of Saint Anthony just for the money he could acquire. Brother Cipolla understands the leniency with which worshippers give away their money “to the cause” and takes advantage of it: “Because [Certaldo] was such good grazing ground, one of the brothers of Saint Anthony used to go there once a year to collect the alms that people were stupid enough to give him” (470). Brother Cipolla simply travels from place to place, finding ways to charge churchgoers, such as encouraging the townspeople of Certaldo to give some of their grain and crops to the “poor brothers” of Saint Anthony; in return, Saint Anthony will keep their livestock from danger (471) - an obvious ploy for money. Brother Cipolla even goes so far as to note that giving more grain and crops are giving because of their greater capacity and piety (another maneuver to ensure the townspeople will give away more.) Brother Cipolla’s greatest trickery, though, is in representing a parrot’s feather as a feather of the wing of the Angel Gabriel. Though it is not the fault of the townspeople to have never seen a parrot before, it is sadly too easy for them to believe the feather came from an angel and not simply an animal they haven’t encountered before. What is even worse is that this was a common practice of medieval times; it was often that a commonplace object was transformed into a holy object, and then charged for to see (since many Christians were ready to give away their money to view a relic, and many members of the clergy took advantage of it). Brother Cipolla flaunts this widespread gullibility in their faces when recalling all of the holy relics he has encountered, including recollections of the sweat, bones, and shoes of sacred people (476-8); they unfortunately do not notice and are quick to believe that he accidentally took the charcoal of Saint Lorenzo. This story, combined with his other less-than-flattering depictions religion, display Boccaccio’s true understanding of the corruption and deceit that constructed Christianity at the time (and this understanding is mirrored in Brother Cipolla’s actions.)

The Decameron, part 3

I found this story especially interesting because it possesses the theme of one-sided love. Though Beltramo could not want her less, Giletta continues to pursue him. She first falls in love with him when she was a child, feeling “a boundless love, one which was far more passionate than was suitable for her tender age” (266). This love appears to be an obsession, bordering on unhealthy. One unusual quality is her undying love for him through the years, starting when she is young, which is often when a person feels overwhelming and uncontrollable love for another without much power over it. Giletta maintains this love for him as she grows up, loving him “most passionately” (268), unable to let go of his image after he leaves for Paris, and turns down the offers of many other men. Her affection for him seems strange due to the fact that he does not seem to know her very well at all: the author remarks that he knew her and had seen her, but was obviously unaware of her infatuation. Most strangely, she still wants to pursue him after the death of her father, and seems more interested in her newfound opportunities to travel to him, rather than with grieving. She is even “overjoyed” (267) to discover that the King of France is sick and needs a physician, because it means she will have the chance to see Beltramo again-and she even plans to marry Beltramo while there. Here we see her using someone else’s sickness to her own advantage, all in the name of love. Quite ironically, Beltramo has no interest whatsoever in Giletta, since her lineage is not noble enough; he even leaves her after the wedding, and sends harsh words back to her, implying that they will never be lovers. Unfortunately for Beltramo, there is no way to escape someone who is determined to seek their lover; and Giletta manipulates her way into his life until she gets what she wants. Giletta peculiarly bemoans “all that she had done out of love for the Count, and pointed out what had come of it” (270), not seeming to grasp the concept that he does not have feelings for her like she expects him to. To fulfill her long-held fantasy, she moves to Florence to be close to him, pretends to be another woman whom Beltramo cares for, and pays off the family of the woman in order to assist her in this ruse (not considering that the woman would actually want and merit a relationship with Beltramo; this woman’s feelings do not matter, as is evident in Giletta’s choice not to include her in on the details of the plan). Giletta seems in denial of the fact that Beltramo doesn’t like her, so she plays the other woman’s role, leading her to bear his children and receive his ring (the two qualities he said she would never possess as his wife). At the end, she reveals her true self, and Beltramo eventually accepts her. It is interesting that she changes herself to someone else so that he will love her; she is so desperate for his affection that she will even accept his loving someone else instead of her, as long as it is directed towards her. This love seems wrong in too many ways.

The Decameron, part 2

My favorite story from our reading was that of Alatiel (Day Two, Seventh Story). I enjoyed this story for a few reasons: the first is the way the narrator, Panfilo, takes an unusual perspective on beauty. Panfilo renounces the ways women try to make themselves more attractive, and even names this as a sin: “…and you, gracious ladies, sin in a most particular way: that is, in desiring to be beautiful—inasmuch as, finding the attractions bestowed upon you by Nature to be insufficient, you go to astonishing lengths to improve upon them” (128). Panfilo demands a woman in her most natural state, viewing it as her best form. His (somewhat unconventional) argument is that women, in their great vanity and need to improve themselves, do not realize how some other are cursed with great beauty; and such is the story of Alatiel. Alatiel is so striking that nearly every man who encounters her does all he can to possess her. She is stolen and transported from place to place several times without any say in the matter; she is treated more as a pet than a person most of the time (a treatment further enhanced by the fact that she does not speak the languages of any of the countries or cultures she is brought to and is therefore mute). Eight different men consummate their lust for her (though the majority do not marry her.) On the other hand, though Alatiel’s beauty tends to make her life difficult, it still provides her with a deep-rooted sexual power over men. Though Alatiel is never seriously harmed, many men are killed in argument over her (and even a war is begun due to one of her kidnappings); meanwhile, Alatiel is noted by Giovanni to eventually become content with Fortune and her newfound life after every relocation. And though the men may believe that they are the only ones whose satisfaction is important, and therefore only consider their own sexual activities, nobody realizes that Alatiel is also satisfied with her sexual relationships and is therefore enabled by the men who perpetually kidnap her. She constantly exercises her resources of beauty to her own advantage, making Alatiel less often a victim and more often the prosperous receptor of what she wants from the men. This in a way gives her character stereotypical male qualities (which are echoed by the male characters of the text): she considers sexual gratification to be more important than anything else, and since she is receiving it, she is pleased, and is living in complete satisfaction.

The Decameron, part 1

1. “He was as fond of women as dogs are of a beating with a stick; he was, in fact, more fond of men, more so than any other degenerate” (27). I took this passage in the First Day’s first story to be alluding to Ser Cepparello’s homosexuality; I find it especially interesting that this is limited to just one sentence, meaning the reader has to dig into the text to find and analyze it. Homosexuality in the Middle Ages was not doubt a taboo (as it still is in many cultures today) and was grouped with such behavior as bestiality (and no doubt garnered punishment). It is clear that the storyteller is grouping homosexuality in with the other vile qualities of this character, and this stands as a passing glance of the view of such behavior in those times.
2. “No one will ever know, and a sin that’s hidden is half forgiven” (48). In this quote, the Abbot of them First Day’s fourth story justifies his behavior in having sex with the young woman the monk was just with. This quote is peculiarly irrational; it seems illogical for God to forgive someone for concealing their sins (rather, I would assume that God would not appreciate a human trying to lie as well as to fornicate simultaneously). The only justification for this I can conceive is that the person is hiding because he or she recognizes his or her own wrongdoing against God (and God appreciates their knowledge that they are sinning), and they will presumably repent afterwards. I am not aware of this as an actual tenet of Christianity, but based on the lack of findings in my research of the principle, I can only conclude that it is a convenient and creative form of rhyming justification.
3. “Worthy ladies, if we examine closely the ways of Fortune, we will see that the more said about her ways, the more there remains to be said, and no one should be surprised at this fact, if he or she bears in mind that all those affairs which we foolishly call our own are in her hands, and as a result it is she who, according to her own secret judgment, endlessly moves and rearranges thing from one place to another and then back again without any discernable plan whatsoever” (86). Pampinea begins her story this way in the Second Day’s third story; and she reveals some of the principles of life of the Middle Ages- that all actions are part of a plan from the heavens/God. This reasoning denies that any person has control over their own matters, and suggests that our actions really have no effect on the outcomes of our lives. This is especially noteworthy when applied to the particular story presented- that of The Tebaldo brothers and their nephew Alessandro. Despite the fact that it is clearly the brothers’ fault that they have ruined their families’ and their own lives, the storyteller still insists that it is part of a greater design (in which these actions are designated to happen). The chance meeting and marriage of Alessandro and the Abbot is viewed not as a random encounter but instead as the work of Fortune. This perspective, in complete opposition to realism, claims that their meeting was more than just pure coincidence; and to me, this is once again a creative way to justify what one denies or doesn’t understand.

Response for "Tristan and Isolde" Film

This film adaptation is devoid of the magical love potion that brings Tristan and Isolde together in the original Beroul story, changing the interpretation significantly. Both versions prompt the reader to ask a pivotal question (though based on different events): Who is really to blame for the damage Tristan's and Isolde's love causes? In Beroul's version, one could argue that the love potion's supernatural force overwhelmed the characters to a point where they could not resist each other. Therefore, readers can negate the responsibility of the lovers for carrying on their affair behind King Mark's back (and subsequently damaging his kingdom). In the movie, there is no enchantment over them; they are thus completely to blame for their adultery. The film's extraction of this plot element, in my opinion, makes the story much less engaging and challenges the audience less.
Ultimately, I found the movie’s rendition of their love for one another far inferior to that of the text. Beroul expertly crafts an alluring tale that leaves the reader questioning his or her own morals in relation to love. The text’s characters are dynamic, moving from innocent and noble to adulterous and manipulating (and even murderous). Tristan and Isolde continue their trickery after the love potion wears off, leaving the reader to ponder how in control of their lust the lovers are. Conversely, the movie provides a flat, one-dimensional, (and cliché) perspective, limiting the characters to being (likely inexcusable) "cheaters", instead of Beroul’s complex and shifting characters.