This (a) illuminated nothing that confused me about the Fabliaux and (b) made me infinitely more uncomfortable with the subject matter, which I didn't think was possible. Apparently I didn't get over my sex repulsion two years ago like I thought I did, because I'm so, so uncomfortable about all of this and I really don't want to write an essay on it, much less discuss it in a supervision.
I also don't appreciate Bloch's habit of not translating quotes from critics writing in, say, German -- French is understandable given that the Lit he's writing about is French, but he can't expect us all to understand German, and it's just ANNOYING when academics do that.