Ysengrimus

Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library #26

by Jill Mann (Translator)

The twelfth-century Latin beast epic Ysengrimus is one of the great comic masterpieces of the Middle Ages. This long poem, composed in what is today Belgium, recounts the relentless persecution of the wolf Ysengrimus by his archenemy Reynard the fox, in the course of which the wolf is beaten to a pulp, flayed (twice), mutilated, and finally eaten alive by sixty-six pigs. The cartoon-like violence of the narrative is not motivated by a gratuitous delight in cruelty but by a specific satiric aim: the wolf represents the hybrid ecclesiastic who is both abbot and bishop, whose greed is comparable to the wolf’s. The details of the narrative are carefully crafted to make the wolf’s punishment fit the abbot-bishop’s crime, creating a topsy-turvy world in which the predator becomes prey. In the elaborate rhetorical fantasies that accompany the narrative, the wolf’s tortures are represented as honors (for example, his flaying is mockingly represented as an episcopal consecration). This poem gave rise to a whole body of narratives, beginning with the earliest branches of the Romance of Renard and extending into most of the European vernaculars, so influential that the name Renard eventually became the standard word for fox in French.

Genres: Poetry, 12th Century

576 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1148

About the author

Jill Mann is a Fellow of the British Academy, an Honorary Fellow of St. Anne’s College, Oxford, and a Life Fellow of Girton College, Cambridge.

Reviews

[Zadignose]

Oh what a brutal comedy it is...

I was speaking of life, but I guess that applies to the book Ysengrimus too. It's quite interesting that the book is in fact titled Ysengrimus... though, of course, that's entirely appropriate... but one might have expected it to be called Reynard. Here, though, the title helps us keep our attention right on the suffering bastard whose torments and humiliations are chronicled. Reynard, for all his fame, his wit and cunning, is most notable as the principal engine for Ysengrimus's suffering. (I would say "beatification through bodily pain" but unfortunately there's nothing saintly or "steadfast" within Ysengrimus, and thus the greater tragedy).

While it is true that Ysengrimus is wicked, incapable of reform, unteachable, greedy, and villainous in many ways--at least in terms of intent--he is also completely ineffectual and is never witnessed actually doing anything that remotely justifies the horrible tricks to which he falls victim. He very well would like to deserve the cruelty fortune deals him, but he is never even fortunate enough to deserve it.

The novel is one-hundred percent irony, which is the foundation of its humor, but there is also perhaps a sincerity in the desire to bring wicked bishops like Anselm... and perhaps the pope himself--to brutal justice. Since the truly powerful cannot be made to pay, in human form, then the suffering all falls upon the wretched animal.

Chapter 3, in the first paragraph, may serve well as a thesis statement for the entire text. In the first and last sentences:

"When Fortune is oppressing the wretched, she knows no relenting, so that to those whom she has already punished, she deals out yet more blows... wretched in the field was Ysengrimus, and wretched in court; always and everywhere he was in the midst of enemies."

I could ramble for a while, but I'm not actually much of a book reviewer. I think this book was excellent in its own unique way, it was surprising, shocking actually, funny, and emotionally and morally challenging too. It has an unrelenting quality. It has a lot of medieval character to it; that is, its humor and style certainly make it akin to other medieval European texts even while it retains its own voice. In an odd way, I'd also dare to say that its cynicism and even occasional tedium carry all the way through into modern literature, in the form of the writings of Celine. Did Celine really inherit the literary instincts of a Medieval monk? Well, read and decide for yourself, I'm not in the mood to break it down for you.

[Nathan "N.R." Gaddis]

Welcome to the candy storye. Zadignose to thank for Ysengrimus.

But listen, there's more because Harvard means candy=candy=candy when it comes to old=old=old stuff. Check this out, Ysengrimus is part of the Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library series of wonderful sounding books. That would make it sister to not only Loeb, which we all love! (where would we be without our Loebs?), but also to The I Tatti Renaissance Library. Bye.

[Ronald Morton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Main lesson: Foxes are assholes.

Ysengrimus is a ~6500 line Latin Beast Epic that tells of the conflicts between Ysengrimus (the wolf) and Reynard (the fox). And, by conflicts, I really mean the repeated outwitting of Ysengrimus by Reynard.

It plays out a bit like a (considerably) more explicitly violent Roadrunner and Coyote cartoon, but with extensive witty dialogue and satirical mocking of Ysengrimus, the stereotypical greedy bishop who fleeces his flock of their very skin. The dialogue here is razor sharp and manages to maintain a feverish intensity throughout the entire work – it is funny, pointed, and thematically sound through the thousands of lines of the work, and it doesn’t let up until the end.

Did I mention it’s violent? Ysengrimus has his tail cut off, is beaten extensively (repeatedly), is skinned (repeatedly), and worse. Much worse. Truthfully, by the end you feel a bit bad for the guy, even if he does mostly deserve what he has coming to him.

I loved the structure of the work as well – it’s through the structure that it becomes apparent just how exquisitely crafted the entire work is – the work begins in mediis rebus and throughout the first half of the work these odd references are made to past events that are unknown to the reader – but there ends up being a fairly extensive inset narrative in the second half of the work that ties together all the references that peppered the first half of the work. It’s really well executed.

I don’t know if I would necessarily call this a fun read – it’s certainly a funny read – but it gets a bit uncomfortable at times as the wolf gets more and more extensively abused. It is a great read though, and it’s an important one in the medieval canon.

[Jared · Rating 5 out of 5]

Egrediens silva mane Ysengrimus, ut escam
ieiunis natis quaereret atque sibi,
cernit ab obliquo Reinardum currere vulpem,
qui simili studio ductus agebat iter.

[One morning, as Ysengrimus was leaving the wood to look for food for his hungry children and himself, he saw running across his path Reynard the fox, who had been led to venture forth for the same motive.]

[Mateusz · Rating 5 out of 5]

A marvelous satire on the church straight from the Middle Ages, witty as Cicero, cruel as Nero, and behold - to each nature his own, a masterful command of plot and characters pointing to the fact that clergy was as much detested as it is now, the difference layeth in power and treasuries of The Unholy See that is much impoverished by triumphant reason among paid in burning pyres and persecutions of great men and women by impudent, fire-and-brimstone hypocrites of the Church epitomized in the master nun pig Salaura. Dom Ysengrimus perished, character and nature sows fates. Fox, symbol of the medieval heretic prevailed by overseeing cunningly the whole scenery. Highly commendable! There is much more to this tale, may my last impressions do not mislead you! Read and judge for yourself.

[Abby Ang · Rating 3 out of 5]

well that's horrifying

[Werner Groenestijn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Turns out I'm very fond of medieval Tom and Jerry.

[Lulu]

c. 1150 (1148–1153) the first fully-fledged medieval beast-epic, and the poem in which Reynard the Fox makes his first appearance


Mann vs sypher trans https://caans-acaen.ca/Journal/issues...

[Lise Petrauskas]

Zad says it's good!