Публикуваните тук за пръв път на български език най-ранни творби за Тристан и Изолда са писани във Франция през втората половина на ХІІ век. Те свидетелстват за първите литературни трактовки на историята за Тристан и Изолда. Явяват се също представители на първото поколение куртоазни романи и куртоазни новели. Те слагат началото на богата литературна продукция през ХІІІ и ХІV век на тази тема в цяла Западна Европа. Така се ражда митът за Тристан и Изолда. Още през Средновековието той се утвърждава като модел на любовта-страст, която се противопоставя радикално на християнския възглед за брака. Но подривният характер на този мит не се ограничава с това. Абсолютната любов на героите поставя под въпрос всички ценности, залегнали в основата на феодалното общество.
От романтизма до наши дни писатели, композитори, драматурзи и филмови творци се вдъхновяват от мита за Тристан и Изолда, за да кажат нещо съществено за своето време. Едва ли има по-красноречиво доказателство за жизнеността на един мит от това в него да се оглеждат и разпознават други епохи и други култури. Когато днешното изкуство говори за трудното съжителство между любовната страст и брака, за опияненията и опустошенията на любовта, то влиза в явен или в скрит диалог с мита за Тристан и Изолда. Време е българският читател да има достъп до основополагащите текстове на този мит.
Béroul was a Norman poet of the twelfth century. Béroul is, by agreement, the name given to the author of a version of the legend of Tristan and Isolde, written in a Norman dialect.
Béroul était un poète normand du xiie siècle. C'est le nom que l'on donne par convention à l'auteur d'une version en vers de la légende de Tristan et Iseut, écrite dans un dialecte normand.
Not a bad yarn in all-- who doesn't like a tale of dragons, love potions in the wrong hands, and tragic romance --but there are inconsistencies and gaps in the narrative (like, the love potion that made them fall in love expired after three years so they are no longer in love with each other, oops, no biggie, better tell King Mark they made a mistake, except, wait a minute, they are actually still in love with each other).
Also, Tristan and Yseut are extremely selfish, care only about themselves, and plot to kill those who stand in the way of their love affair, including one servant woman who has helped them all along. I don't believe anyone deserves to be put to death for an affair, but by medieval standards, I found King Mark to be very forgiving and reasonable towards this pair who didn't really deserve it.
Béroul is such a twelfth century fanboy who will excuse his hero of anything and equates beauty with goodness. His insistence on calling the king's advisors "villains" for just reporting the actual facts surely can't be convincing anyone.
to have this book recommended to me by an old French teacher, describing it as « the greatest of love stories » and finding out it’s a story about a queen cheating on her husband with … the nephew of said husband, was definitely a surprise ! 🙃
If you've read any other Tristan text, like that of Gottfried von Strassberg, this is nothing new. The introduction suggests that this is the oldest surviving Tristan text: perhaps so, I think it may well be right.
The translation is clear and easy to read, and you get the whole gist of the story. The surviving manuscripts of Beroul's poem and The Tale of Tristan's Madness are full of gaps, so the gaps are filled in by what is known from other Tristan stories. Reasonably well done, I think.
When reading it, you do have to recall that Beroul wasn't setting out to write something that was like a modern novel. One of the reviews suggests someone should have told Beroul about "show, don't tell" -- how ridiculous: that's a rule for a modern novel, and fiction had entirely different conventions then.
The story of Tristan and Isolde is a difficult one, for readers -- certainly modern readers. All our sympathies are meant to lie with the lovers, and yet they are consistently lying and cheating. The love potion seems like nothing but an excuse, to us, to avoid their moral culpability. Still, if you can set aside your moral sensibilities for the space of the story, whichever version you read, it's a beautiful tale.
¿Hay algo más maravilloso que ir descubriendo obras que fueron escritas hace cientos de años y que son el origen de miles de historias que han sido creadas después? En mi búsqueda de profundizar en los comienzos de la literatura francesa, me topé con “Tristán e Isolda” de Béroul. Esta es una leyenda que fue escrita en 1170, forma parte de la mitología celta y de las tradiciones de la antigua Bretaña del siglo VIII. Narrada y adaptada por múltiples autores y poetas anglonormandos durante la Edad Media, se dice que uno de los más antiguos manuscritos que ha sido conservado y que es la versión más “común” es el que os presento a continuación.
En este relato, encontraremos distintos episodios que Béroul decidió retratar de manera épica del mito medieval que se halló inconcluso. La historia, al encontrarse fragmentada, omite ciertos datos y pasajes que conocemos gracias a las narraciones de otros escritores de la época. La acción se sitúa en Cornualles, allí, seremos partícipes de una de las tragedias amorosas más emocionantes de la mano de un caballero llamado Tristán y de la reina Isolda. Estos, tras beber una poción mágica del amor por equivocación, caen perdidamente enamorados el uno del otro y dará comienzo una relación adultera de la que palacio tendrá constancia salvo el mayor afectado: el rey Marc.
Tras una puesta en escena bastante atropellada, me sentí fascinada por lo que estaba leyendo. A diferencia de otro tipo de cuentos medievales, aquí tenemos a dos amantes egoístas, que manipulan y burlan a todo aquel que se entromete en su relación, incluyendo al rey, que se muestra de lo más indulgente, inocente, influenciable y compasivo (cosa sumamente extraña y quizá incongruente para los terribles castigos que se acostumbraban a practicar en ese periodo por semejante deshonra). La estratagema parece también ir dirigida al lector pues incluso cuando pasa el tiempo efectivo de la poción, estos dos amantes se siguen amando y parece que se estaban excusando para evitar la culpabilidad que trata de abrirse paso en sus corazones.
Béroul nos muestra una serie de hechos sin intentar hacer de ellos lo que podríamos calificar como una novela moderna, al contrario, dota a su texto (quiero pensar de forma expresa) de muchas inconsistencias. Su estilo narrativo es directo, conciso, no por ello carente de belleza pues nos ofrece algunos momentos hermosos que profundizan en las emociones humanas. Esta leyenda ha influenciado no solo a innumerables autores, sino también a artistas en infinidad de obras teatrales, adaptaciones al cine, óperas y preciosas pinturas que nunca pasarán al olvido. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ En definitiva, os diré una vez más que a pesar de entender que esta leyenda quizá no provoque los mismos sentimientos en todos los lectores y que obviamente, estos se desesperen al no encontrar algo más “modernizado”, yo sí os la recomiendo y mucho. Seguiré indagando en su historia y por supuesto me haré con alguna otra de sus versiones para gozar de más información. Estamos ante historia de la literatura, especial y mágica, ¿qué más podemos pedir?
Es otra versión de la historia de amor prohibida (suena bien...) entre el sobrino de un rey y la esposa de este. Llegado a un punto Marc, el rey, me dio un poco de pena porque vive envuelto en los chismes y las mentiras de toda la gente que lo rodea y se deja influir. Por alguna extraña razón, me gustó más que la versión de Gottfried. Tal vez haya sido porque el verso es más amable que la prosa cuando una no está muy en sintonía con la historia (a pesar de que a mí me gustó) por sus digresiones o, tal vez, porque los diálogos de los personajes hacen que una forme una opinión propia sobre ellos. Además, está contada de una forma menos empalagosa. Si bien Béroul es tendencioso (él afirma que está contando la historia tal como fue), Gottfried se ponía pesado con sus teorías en medio de la narración. Coinciden en muchas cosas (como que están inconclusos, por ejemplo) pero también difieren en detalles que cambian la interpretación. Eso lo hace entretenido.
Half of this makes no sense, and I can't even defend it by arguing that "standards for medieval narrative structure and storytelling were different," but I love it anyway. I mean, a baron who is killed halfway through the story is mysteriously mentioned as being alive at the end of the story. That's such a wild inconsistency, you just need to embrace it and keep reading.
Odio el amor cortés, pero en el fondo de mi corazón adoré esta historia... Las dos versiones, la de Béroul y Thomas, son fascinantes. Sigo odiando al amor cortés pero me siguen gustando las historias de amor. Ni hablar.
The Old French poem The Romance of Tristan, by Beroul, is one of the earliest extant works to narrate the story of Tristan and Yseut.
The story, briefly, concerns Tristan, a Cornish knight who is nephew to King Mark, who falls in love with Mark’s wife Yseut when they both accidentally drink a love potion. The lovers then find themselves in one scrape after another, as the evil dwarf Frocin and three evil barons who are jealous of their prowess and popularity attempt to frame them for their misbehaviour.
Of course, the problem is that Tristan and Yseut really are guilty. They’re committing the sin of adultery, no doubt about it. But Beroul creates sympathy for them by depicting vividly their suffering when they are exiled in the forest of Morrois, and by showing clearly that the love potion absolves them of all responsibility for their actions. The barons, moreover, are jealous of them, and clearly villainous in their behaviour. King Mark is weak, vacillating between love for Tristan and Yseut and hotheaded wrath at them. King Arthur, called in to witness Yseut’s oath of fidelity in one scene, behaves with generosity to a leper, whom we know to be Tristan in disguise, aiding and abetting Yseut in an equivocation that will allow her to swear truthfully that she has been faithful to Mark. So Arthur is rightfully upholding wrongdoing, while Mark and the barons wrongfully uphold the right.
I don’t believe that the Tristan legend really seeks to uphold an alternative moral code, in which self-indulgence and oath-breaking are normal and admirable. Rather, Beroul is using the legend to point out that there are problems with justice and a moral code applied according to purely external signs. Tristan offers to submit himself to the justice system, in this case the feudal system of trial by combat, but Mark repeatedly refuses, presumably because Tristan could beat anyone at his court in single combat. And to outward appearances, Tristan and Yseut are both guilty of adultery; internally, however, they are excused because the effects of the potion are irresistible. Mark is wrong for suspecting Yseut merely on exterior appearances, even though he’s technically correct in his suspicions. Thus, the villain becomes not adulterous behaviour itself, but the superficiality that comes with hasty and uncharitable judgments and a rigid adherence to inflexible codes of justice. The world is problematic for Tristan and Yseut and their contemporaries.
Alan S. Fedrick’s translation is entertaining to read, and rendered in prose rather than in Beroul’s original verse. The poem is only fragmentary—both the beginning and the end of the story have been lost, and one must supplement one’s reading with other poems—a likely earlier poem by the German poet Eilhart Von Oberg, for example, or the contemporary French version by Thomas of Britain. Fedrick has provided summaries and even another brief romance, “The Madness of Tristan,” so that one’s reading experience can be complete. Overall, an excellent translation of an interesting (if technically not excellent) poem.
hazırlık sınıfındayken bu masalsı kitabın daha basit bir Fransızca’sını okumuştum. şimdi, sıralı okuma yaparken farklı bir edisyon tercih ettim ve bambaşka bir anlatı okudum.
Before Lancelot and Guinevere had massive boners for each other, there was Tristan and Yseut. Tristan is the nephew of King Mark; Mark takes Tristan in, marries Yseut, and then is completely blind to the fact that Tristan is weaseling his way into Yseut's tunic. The affair comes to the attention of a dwarf in the court who has to trick the adulterers before the good king finally agrees that something's rotten. From there comes the drama and the tragedy and al that makes this romance so popular.
There are different versions of the Tristan-Yseut (or more popularly recognized as Isolde) story, though Beroul is considered the earliest. Originally written as a poem, this particular translation (by Alan S. Fedrick) is in prose format. Sometimes that change works, as in some versions of Dante's Divine Comedy or Homer's Odyssey and Iliad; however, I felt short-changed at times reading this translation of Beroul's work - I feel there probably was more than I was given access to. Still, it was a fast and fun read and a great addition to other pieces of the Arthurian legend.
''Το μαγικο ελιξηριο εκλεψε τη θεληση μου, τωρα πια οι σκεψεις μου υπαγορευονται απο τον ερωτα, οπως βλεπεις η λογική εγινε τρέλα"
___________________ Eιναι σημαντικό να διαβαζουμε τετοια βιβλία, για να μαθαινουμε απο που προερχονται οι μεγαλοι πρωταγωνιστες της παγκοσμιας κλασσικης λογοτεχνιας. Και ειναι σημαντικο για ιστορικους λογους, γιατι συνειδητοποιυμε οτι η τεχνη κυκλους κανει, οι δοξασιες αλλαζουν τοπους αλλά παραμενουν αναλοιωτοι και οτι δεν υπαρχει παρθενογενεση στην τεχνη. Μεσα στην κλασσικη ιστορια αγαπης του Τριστανου και της Ιζολδης ειναι ο σπορος ολου του ιπποτικου μυθιστορηματος της Ευρωπης, οι θρυλοι του βασιλια Αρθουρου, ο Ρομπεν των Δασων ο Γουλιελμος Τελος αλλα και ολη η επιρροη που ασκησαν αυτοι οι θρυλοι των ευρωπαικων δασων επανω στον Σαιξπηρ, στον Χοφμαν, στον Σιλλερ και διαφορους κλασικους. Μεσα στην ιστορια αυτη αναγνωρισα στοιχεια αρχαιοελληνικης μυθολογιας, αλλα και σκανδιναβικης, Ομηρο, πλοκη απο Σαιξπηρ - ρωμαιος και Ιουλιετα και Ονειρο καλοκαιρινης νυχτας (ο βασιλιας Μαρκος εχει αυτια γαιδαρου) και σιγουρα ξεχναω και καποια αλλα τωρα. Η περιπλανηση της βασιλισσας με τον αγαπημενο της στα δαση ειναι απο τον Ρομπεν των Δασων. Η αναγνωριση του μεταμιφιεσμενου σε ζητιανο Τριστανου απο τον σκυλο του, παρμενο απευθειας απο την Οδυσσεια. Τωρα αναλογως ποια απ ολα αυτα τα κλασσικα εργα προηγουνται ή επονται χρονολογικα, καθοριζει και το ποιος πηρε απο ποιον (δεν θελω να πω: εκλεψε) Γιατι δεν πειραζει. Η Τεχνη επηρεαζει και εξελισσεται. Συνεχιζεται και αντεχει στον χρονο. μεταλλασεται και οι ωραιες ιστοριες επιζουν, τραγουδιουνται, διαβαζονται και αυτο ειναι που καθοριζει και τα κλασσικα: ειναι αυτα που αντεξαν στον χρονο, και εφτασαν σε μας και θα συνεχισουν και μετα απο μας.
________________ Λενε και μια ιστορια για δυο δεντρα που φυτρωσαν σαν απο θαυμα πάνω στους ταφους του Τριστανου και της Ιζολδης. Τα κλαδια του μεγαλωσαν κι υστερα εγειραν κι ενωθηκαν μεταξυ τους. Τα δυο δεντρα αγκαλιαστηκαν... Λενε οτι ο βασιλιας Μαρκος τρεις φορες επιχειρησε να τα κοψει αλλα τρεις φορες αυτα ξαναμεγαλωσαν κι αγκαλιαστηκαν ξανα.Καποιοι λενε οτι γι αυτο ευθυνεται το μαγικο ελιξιριο της αιωνιας αγαπης.
I enjoyed reading this so much! Being medieval literature, there were occasional moments where the gender dynamics bothered me, but I let it slide for the most part because of the context of the time period it was written in. I had to keep in mind how the structure of society was different back then and how differently people were expected to act. It requested suspension of disbelief on that account [gender] in order to fully enjoy the tale. Which I did! It read like a fairy tale, and I really liked the humor and irony in this telling of the Tristan and Isolde legend. It was amusing and it definitely was a story that was on True Love's side. Despite the depiction of the three "wicked" and "villainous" barons that continuously try to expose Tristan and Yseut, it made sense on practical, even moral, grounds for their multiple attempts. Even so, the narrator and the story really made a case to have sympathy for Tristan and Yseut, on the basis of their tragic love story, despite all the treachery, sneaking around, and deception. X)
I really liked Yseut's character. I was a bit worried before I started reading that she would be a bland, interchangeable maiden-type character, but was pleasantly surprised to see her depicted as clever and cunning! Even if that kind of female character probably wasn't necessarily a favorable one, I was happy to have an Yseut with agency who did the best she could under her circumstances. And I also really liked Tristan's dog, Husdant, haha! XD And Tristan himself was brave and knightly, as was to be expected. :P XD I really liked the solidarity between the characters on Team Tristan & Yseut, LOL. XD And I also got all happy when King Arthur was mentioned, and later, when he made his appearance. XD I was all sorts of excited with my first dive into Arthurian legend. I had a lot fun with this one. :)
La epítome del amor cortés estuvo entre mis manos, en una versión tan diferente a lo que se tiene por dicho que es la historia clásica de los amantes trágicos. Tristán e Isolda están condenados a la tragedia a causa de su amor adúltero puesto como algo divino, inalcanzable y desleal. Hayo cierta picardía en las escapadas nocturnas y aventuras en el juego del amor cortés, es un ir y venir de angustias por parte del lector, al mismo tiempo de un morbo por saber la desdicha con la que los va a condenar el rey Marc a causa de los felones. El narrador, Béroul, es omnisciente, pero expresa sus opiniones y preocupaciones, es un espectador comentando sus impresiones y anunciando los hechos de manera detallada, cual mensajero leyendo los manuscritos al rey. En el momento en el que se encuentran en el bosque su amor se vuelve más unido, huyen de la hoguera para entregarse a sí mismos y vivir una vida alejada de Cornualles. Sin embargo, al comer todos los días carne insípida, viéndose las caras y sin dirigirse la palabra, recuerda que les hace falta compartir el pan de cada día con los que rodeaban su mesa. El pan como elemento de cohesión y comunidad. Al mismo tiempo que lo es la inminente figura del rey Arturo, que aunque es breve su aparición, siempre trae paz a los caballeros. Cabalgando junto al alba, Tristán va acompañado de su señor escudero Governal, Husdent, el perro que no ladra, su arco que no falla y su tierna amiga y compañera de noches, Isolda. En una huida por amor y traición de la corte.
The Tristan and Iseult legend exists in hundreds of versions, with unique variations being produced in almost all European countries. The French scholar Joseph Bédier studied the Tristan legend all his life and discovered that all the Tristan poems, medieval and modern, can be traced back to a single lost poem. As this volume’s translator Alan Fedrick explains, that lost poem is the fountainhead of the whole tradition and the archetype of all Tristan stories. The only versions that don’t trace back to this lost poem are the version in this book, the twelfth century version composed by Norman scribe Beroul, about whom nothing is known, and the short poem called The Tale of Tristan’s Madness by an unknown author, also included here, as the end of the narrative.
This theory is apparently accepted by those who study the legend. Even Beroul’s version does not claim to be the original, and the author tells us that he knows the story well and will relate it to us more faithfully than many others of his time. So in the twelfth century this was already a well known legend, told widely enough to have undergone changes from different storytellers.
This is the sort of history and back story that lends these old legends additional fascination beyond their contents. It makes the study of these writings interesting in multiple dimensions: that of the tale, in all its peculiar and magical qualities as fiction or poetry or myth, and in those dimensions of cultural and historical context, which sometimes prove to be as complicated and magnificent as the story itself. This is my first reading of any of the Tristan legends, as part of my exploration of the Arthurian cycle of myths. Beroul’s seems like the place to start, because it’s the oldest surviving version.
The only existing manuscript of Beroul’s poem is in bad shape. The beginning and end were not preserved. The part that was preserved starts abruptly in the middle of a scene in which King Mark of Cornwall is hiding in a tree spying on Tristan and his wife Yseut, waiting to catch them in their affair. Fortunately scholars have reconstructed the missing parts from other Tristan legends, and included those summaries here in Beroul’s version, so that we can understand what’s going on. This reconstruction explains the birth of Tristan, nephew of King Mark, and how Tristan came to serve as a knight under him, how he underwent combat with Morholt of Ireland to save Mark’s people from paying taxes, how he battled a dragon and was wounded, and how his injuries were treated by Yseut, princess of Ireland. Tristan becomes a hero to Mark’s kingdom. When Mark’s barons convince the king he must marry and have children, Tristan agrees to escort Yseut from Ireland. On this voyage they are accidentally given a love potion, which throws them in love with one another, spelling doom for the pair who will then spend the next years hiding this love from Mark, escaping Mark’s violent justice, surviving together in the wild, and later attempting to reunite.
The story is full of unexpected, shifting fortunes and tension and humor, and does not lack the violence and dismemberment that medieval legends are known for. Combat is the standard way for a man to defend his honor. Who is right in an argument, or rather, who is guilty of an accusation, is decided not through substance or evidence, but through victory in a joust or a sword fight. At no point can one mistake this tale for being of any other time than the Middle Ages, with its portrayal of valor, of magic, of social duty, of dwarves, of hermits, of dragons, of the unknown.
The love between Tristan and Yseut is given an ethereal quality, almost like a curse, not an act of their own will. The guilt they feel is compounded by their inability to escape the control of the potion. Even after its effects inexplicably wear off after three years, they are drawn back together, and undergo many strange tribulations to be reunited. The creative lengths Tristan goes to, and the clever games Yseut plays, give way to surprising outcomes, especially in Tristan’s bloody revenge against the barons in their final attempt to catch him in the act.
King Arthur makes appearances in the tale, as do his knights Gawain and a few others, though only in passing. He comes to Cornwall for Yseut’s vindication, and has the manner of a noble, valiant king whose judgment is respected and whose court is considered the greatest in the land. His generosity and compassion is evident in his dealing with Tristan, who has disguised himself as a leper. Given the age of the tales of the Mabinogion that feature Arthur as a character, thought to have been written in the eleventh to thirteenth centuries, this may be the next oldest instance of King Arthur as a character in a written story, as more than a name mentioned in history whose deeds are acknowledged. Although his part here is small, he’s a distinctly legendary figure, in need of no introduction to the medieval audience who were listening to the recitation of this poem. He doesn’t hang around long, but his presence is intended to carry more weight than anyone else’s.
Beroul’s narration is peculiar, in that he often interjects his own feelings about the story and its characters, like the three barons who he repeatedly describes as villains but who are merely going about their duty in trying to make the king aware of the infidelity his wife is involved in. He also tells us how wonderful Tristan is, how pure and righteous Yseut is, but the details of his story usually complicate things, showing us something at odds with what he’s trying to get us to believe. I like this feature of the narrator being a biased third party, whose enthusiasm for the story is only matched by his love for the heroes and hatred for its antagonists.
There are some problems with the composition, as the translator points out, because inconsistencies pop up. Some characters die only to return later without explanation, or details change that end up having important implications for the way events will play out. Because of this some have speculated the manuscript was written by multiple people, some arguing up to nineteen different scribes working each on a different episode. The evidence for this is apparently nonexistent, it is speculation. I’m in no place to judge. Consensus however seems to be that this poem was composed by a single author, and all its imperfections were from carelessness. All the better, I think. It doesn’t change its tone or style in a way to suggest multiple authors, and it simply may be that it was written over a long period, and earlier parts were not re-read before composing the later parts.
It’s more than an important work of medieval fiction and poetry, it’s a really good story with a lot more going on than is first evident. It holds up strong as a great piece of storytelling and will be interesting to contrast with later variations by authors of the following centuries.
È una rivisitazione cortese di questa leggenda amorosa, scritta dal poeta anglo-normanno Thomas, di cui si sa molto poco, al contrario di questa vicenda: Tristano, allevato dallo zio Marco re di Cornovaglia, da adolescente sfida a duello Morholt, guerriero irlandese, il quale morirà ma farà in tempo a ferire Tristano con un'arma avvelenata. Riceverà delle cure da Isotta, nipote di Morholt, che inizialmente ignora l'identità del cavaliere e pensa solo a salvargli la vita. Tristano mentirà sulla sua identità, si fingerà mercante, e una volta guarito, tornerà in Irlanda ma sarà ferito nuovamente, e sarà di nuovo Isotta a curarlo. I due, tra una sventura e un'altra, si innamorano, ma si amano in segreto. Verranno traditi, certo: era impossibile nascondere un amore forte come il loro.
La vicenda di Thomas inizia con la separazione dei due amanti, e seguono pagine ricche d'amore, tristezza dovuta a un equivoco e tanti brividi.
Mi ha colpita come non si definiscono amanti, ma amici: perché prima di un vero amore e di una salda passione, ci deve essere anche una vera amicizia. E anche se i loro sentimenti erano nobilissimi, erano costretti a un amore segreto, topos dell'amor cortese, a cui può corrispondere questa loro vicenda.
Beroul's poem dates from the 12th century, and is the earliest known account of the Tristan legend. It is incomplete, the surviving manuscript opening after the lovers have returned to Cornwall and the deceit of Mark has begun; but the translator provides the missing episodes - Tristan's birth, his arrival at King Mark's court, his journey to Ireland, the slaying of the dragon, the meeting with Yseut, the drinking of the love potion - from other Tristan sources, thereby telling the entire story. I was expecting a translation from poem form to poem form, but instead the legend is told in prose. While this lessened the book's value to me in one way (no line numbers, so difficult to use it as a reference), the result is a brilliant narrative which in some unclear way emphasises the medieval origin, rather than diluting it. Tristan and Yseut is above all a terrific story; what Peter Jackson has been doing, messing about with Tolkein when he could have been turning his mind to this, is beyond me. He wouldn't even have needed to shell out on a score - Wagner has done it all for him.
'The story is told of two trees that grew miraculously, one from Tristan's tomb and one from Yseut's; their branches intertwined over the apse. Three times King Mark had the trees cut down, and three times they grew again.'
Oh I am done for!
My mum kindly let me stay in bed today and I finished 'The Romance of Tristan' in a matter of hours. It's such a sweet story of love, loss, loyalty, bravery. It was like Marian and Robin, Romeo and Juliet.
Cons - This early version of Tristan and Iseult is very jarring narrative-wise - The characterization is somewhat flat Pros - Episodic nature causes a disjointed narrative flow, but each episode has the potential to be hard-hitting - Tristan and Iseult is the quintessential tragic love
Like any classic this has its packet of weird. On that note: Let's conduct adultery together under the blessing of the same God that had one of us united under the holly matrimony with the king of the freaking castle!
This is a prose translation of a medieval poem, an early version of the story of Tristran/Tristram and Isolde/Yseut. I can’t say whether it’s a good translation or not, since I have no intention of learning Old French to check. What I can say is that it’s a tale of doomed love that’s been round the block a few times, and that I’ve read it for pleasure, not a course of study. That means I can be as ignorant and ill-informed as I like, and not take the medieval aesthetic into account. So there.
So, as a product of the late twentieth century, and pretending not to know that Beroul was writing many a century before I was born, and that it’s my own fault I haven’t got into the spirit; it is not to my liking. I prefer a richer and more ornamented style with fewer continuity errors, and if that means putting up with a bit of Wagnerian shouting, so be it. Beroul’s too rough about the edges for me.
Because the impression I get from this thing is that he’d heard several different versions of the story, half-remembered each of them, and then tried to scribble it down, possibly whilst drunk. You couldn’t trust the water back then.
So, we have a love-potion that’s a three-year limited-period offer, but when it wears off the pair are still in love; we have a Baron who, having been beheaded, pops up later in the story to be killed again; we have a love-affair that’s variously presented as guilty or chaste, depending on the episode. We have King Mark, who seems to suffer mood-swings and memory problems.
And, of course, we have what would now be regarded as a cardinal sin of storytelling: ascribing one set of traits to characters whilst showing the opposite.
I mean, it might be better in Old French, but I wouldn’t bank on it.
Having said all that, all the ingredients are there. Indeed, enough ingredients for two or three versions are there, dramatic episodes, comic-relief and all. I sort of enjoyed it piecemeal. It’s just that all the ingredients have been chucked into the pan in one go and indifferently seasoned.
Uma boa introdução ao Ciclo Arturiano, bem musical em seus versos. A partir dele podemos ter alguma noção de como eram essas narrativas e como isso influenciou fortemente a literatura moderna, principalmente a Fantasia.
Não é mais elaborada das narrativas, mas vale a leitura.
dios MIOOOOO no puedo creer que me gustara tanto una novela de cornwall, ahora veo pq dicen que son todos unos dramáticos. sinceramente vería que hagan una adaptación estilo telenovela latina.
Antes de empezar coa lectura desta reseña debo advertir aos lectores de que carezco de obxetividade, a sangue romanista me delata. Dito isto, alá vamos:
Esta lectura, para sorpresa de nadie, non é de elección propia, senón que se atopa no programa dunha materia da facultade. Peero, isto non implica que non desfrutara da lectura, e é que, durante un par de días de lectura setín que vivía dentro da historia e que podía dialogar cos personaxes (oxalá puidera porque de ser así outro gallo cantaría, porque madre mía, a máis de un lle facía falta un golpe de realidade).
Así que, tras deixar máis que palpable o meu entusiasmo por esta lectura é momento de explicar a grandes rasagos a premisa desta obra: Por unha parte encontrámonos con que o rei Marco decide que quere casarse coa dona dun pelo que leva unha ave no seu pico (seino, é raro de carallo, pero é monarca e medieval, pódese permitir ser estrafalario). Así que, como sus deseos son órdenes, alá vai Tristán (o sobriño) a buscar a Iseo. A cousa comeza a poñerse interesante cando, na travesía por mar que fan ámbolos dous (Iseo e Tristán) rumbo hacia o reino de Marco, ámbolos dous toman un filtro que fai que ámbolos dous se enamoren perdidamente un do outro. Isto dará lugar a un sinfín de enredos e mentiras.
Agora ben, hai (entre centos) dúas versións de esta lenda mítica medieval que predominan, a de Berol e a de Tomás de Inglaterra, ambas engadidas neste libro. A de Berol é unha historia menos profunda, onde predominan as accións e onde as persoaxes son máis prototípicas, mentres que a de Tomás de Inglaterra é unha obra máis introspectiva, onde nos atoparemos con interesantes debates morales e cun maior desenvolvemento das personaxes. Ámbalas dúas merecen unha oportunidade, aínda que creo que xa se intúe que teño certa predilección pola versión de Tomás.
En conclusión, é unha magnífica obra que dá paso a unha amplia tradición literaria que chega ata os nosos días