The Ship of Fools

by Sebastian Brant

Published in 1494 in Basel, The Ship of Fools was soon translated into every major European language. It provoked a vast number of imitations and remained steadily in print through the eighteenth century (with sporadic reprints after that). It still possesses an enormous vigor and vitality.
The book owes its long life to an imagination, wit, and humor rich with insights into human nature, yet neither bitter nor namby pamby. Its commentary on the boasting, pedantry, false learning, gambling, gluttony, medical folly, adultery, greed, envy, hatred, pride and other failings that mark humanity are sharp and telling, and, sadly, as relevant today as they were 450 years ago.
This translation by Professor Edwin H. Zeydel is the only accurate English translation ever published. (Barclay's version is really a pastiche written in imitation of Brant.) The form Professor Zeydel uses is verse, like the original, and he even retains the original rhyme scheme and meter. The achievement is remarkable, for it captures all the charm and movement of the original German while sacrificing nothing to readability and fluidity.
Published now with the 114 original Renaissance woodcuts and with Professor Zeydel's annotations, a biography of Brant, a publishing history, and a survey of the work's influence, this will unquestionably remain the definitive edition of The Ship of Fools in English. The illustrations are part of Dover's Pictorial Archive Series and may be used by commercial artists free of charge.

Genres: Poetry, Classics, German Literature, Fiction, Satire, 15th Century, Germany

416 pages, Paperback

Published December 8, 2011

About the author

Sebastian Brant (also Brandt) was an Alsatian humanist and satirist.He first attracted attention in humanistic circles by his Latin poetry, and edited many ecclesiastical and legal works; but he is now only known by his famous satire, Das Narrenschiff.

Reviews

[Vit Babenco · Rating 5 out of 5]

Some books are undying… Fools are undying too…

I am the firste fole of all the hole nauy
To kepe the pompe, the helme and eke the sayle
For this is my mynde, this one pleasoure haue I
Of bokes to haue grete plenty and aparayle
I take no wysdome by them: nor yet auayle
Nor them preceyue nat: And then I them despyse
Thus am I a foole and all that sewe that guyse…

Books do furnish a room. Do they? There is no need to read them…
There is no end to foolishness, nonsense, stupidity, absurdity, lunacy, silliness, idiocy, imprudence, rashness, imbecility, fatuity and daftness in this world.
The great scholar Sebastian Brant had sorted out and classified all human follies, gathered all fools together, put them on a ship and set them sailing…

Ye care for no shame, for heuen nor for hell
Golde is your god, ryches gotten wrongfully
Ye dame your soule, and yet lyue in penury.

Avarice doesn’t pay. Fashion is for fools. Bad manners are disgusting and mannerisms are preposterous, scandalmongers are wicked dolts… On and on…

Howe beit I stoup, and fast declyne
Dayly to my graue, and sepulture
And though my lyfe fast do enclyne
To pay the trybute of nature
Yet styll remayne I and endure
In my olde synnes, and them nat hate
Nought yonge, wors olde, suche is my state.

There’s no fool like an old fool.
Half a thousand years elapsed. The ship sails on.

[Jon Nakapalau · Rating 5 out of 5]

Get on board this ship and head for damnation - adultery, envy, gambling, gluttony, greed, hatred, and other sins - always looking for a crew. The sad fact is that we never seem to see this; we keep sailing into damnation - lost upon the waves of folly that take us nowhere. A classic that should have a much wider readership than it does.

[Matt · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dies Büchlein schrieb Sebastian Brant
und hat’s „Das Narrenschiff“ genannt.
Fünfhundert Jahr und ein paar mehr,
die sind vergangen schon seither.
Die Sprache klingt, was nicht hat Wunder,
In meinen Ohr’n recht fremd mitunter.
Darob ich kurzerhand entschied
den Text zu nehmen, der mir blieb:
von H. A. Junghans übersetzt
und übertragen in das Jetzt.
Dort sind die Reime alle da,
und auch der Inhalt, so ich sah.
Mit Fußnoten verseh’n die Zeilen,
luden sie ein dort zu verweilen.
Die Bibel, altes Testament,
war, wie es scheint, Brants Fundament.
Und auch die Griechen von Ovid,
hat er zitiert in seinem Lied.
Dabei geht’s hier vornehmlich um
die Dummheit und das Narrentum.
Will gar nicht viel darüber schreiben
was diese Narren alles treiben.
Nur soviel sei gesagt hierbei:
Es ist für jeden was dabei.
Auch ich sah ein, an mancher Stelle,
ging’s nach Herrn Brant, führ ich zur Helle.
Man kann’s verstehn. In jener Zeit
war’s Höchste Gottesfürchtigkeit.
Seitdem hat sich geändert viel,
doch Narrheit treibt wie eh ihr Spiel.




This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

[Paul of Bethesda · Rating 4 out of 5]

The ship-of-fools archetype – the concept of a poorly-led society as a ship that has a fool for a captain and more fools for its crew and passengers, and therefore is bound for disaster – goes back as far as Plato’s Republic. But that image received one of its most famous elaborations in a satirical poem, published in 1494 by a German humanist who saw European society sinking into all kinds of folly. While much has changed in the 500-plus years since Sebastian Brant set down his ideas in verse, the propensity of human beings to behave foolishly remains unchanged. Welcome to Das Narrenschiff – the Ship of Fools. All aboard!

Born in Strasbourg, to a family of innkeepers, Brant excelled in the study of philosophy and law at the University of Basel in Switzerland. His extensive reading in both classical and Christian texts nourished his composition of The Ship of Fools – a document that, with its sharp satirical edge and accompanying woodcuts dramatizing different kinds of foolery, immediately attracted a wide and appreciative audience.

Brant was writing in a time of great and dramatic change; Columbus had made his first voyage to the New World just two years before, and the Protestant Reformation would be revolutionizing ways of life and thought across once-all-Catholic Western Europe within just a couple of decades. Accordingly, this German humanist with a satirical bent found that there were even more subjects than usual to satirize – more fools whose folly he could discuss.

The diligence with which Brant is going to pursue his nautical metaphor throughout The Ship of Fools is apparent from the beginning; the cover of this Dover Books edition contains one of the 114 woodcut illustrations that originally accompanied the book’s publication. This illustration shows a wooden ship crammed with people who all wear a fool’s cap and bells; no one seems to be steering the ship, and the ship is flying a flag that reads “Ad Narragonia” – in Brant’s formulation, “To the Paradise of Fools.” So, if you’ve ever tried to warn a friend or family member that their poor decision-making is going to lead them to a “fool’s paradise,” Brant knows how you feel.

In the prologue to Das Narrenschiff, Brant wastes no time clearing the decks and stowing away the sails and cordage for his ship-of-fools’ voyage:

Hence I have pondered how a ship
Of fools I’d suitably equip –
A galley, brig, bark, skiff, or float,
A carrack, scow, dredge, racing-boat,
A sled, cart, barrow, carryall –
One vessel would be far too small
To carry all the fools I know,. (p. 57)

In compiling the passenger manifest for his ship-of-fools, Brant makes a point of including himself on the list. The very first chapter is titled “Of Useless Books,” and Brant assures the reader that “I’m the first one here you see/Because I like my library./Of splendid books I own no end,/But few that I can comprehend” (p. 62). In fact, I think Brant is being a bit too hard on himself; no doubt he comprehended quite well whatever was being discussed in whatever books he owned in his library.

But the point that Brant is trying to make is that a person with a large library can be conceited, self-important, intellectually arrogant – and he wants his readers to enjoy reading, and seek knowledge, without falling prey to intellectual pride. Otherwise, one risks experiencing, in a symbolic sense, the fate of King Midas from Greek mythology: “My ears are covered up for me;/If they were not, an ass I’d be” (p. 63).

From there, Brant goes on to examine the wide variety of foolishness of which foolish human beings are capable. I was not surprised to encounter Chapter 13, “Of Amours,” considering how closely the medieval church focused on sexual behaviour. In support of his claim that “Who sees too much of woman’s charms/His morals and his conscience harms” (p. 91), Brant invokes a wealth of classical personages undone by love in one way or another: Venus and Mars, Circe, Calypso, Dido, Medea, Pasiphaë, Phaedra, Scylla, Hyacinth, Sappho, the Sirens, Pan, Danaë, Echo, Thisbe, Atalanta, Bellerophon, and Ovid. Biblical examples also abound: David and Bathsheba, Samson and Delilah, and Joseph. Ach du Lieber, Herr Doktor Brant! You certainly did do your homework.

But ein Moment, bitte, Doctor Brant. Didn’t you have seven children? Didn’t you love them, and didn’t you love your wife who bore those children for you? Perhaps it’s a good thing that you saw and appreciated one woman’s charms.

Just as in “Of Amours,” Brant often seems anxious to demonstrate his scholarly bona fides. In Chapter 19, “Of Idle Talk,” he concludes with a rhyming couplet to the effect that “Silence is good, I always teach,/But better still is rightful speech” (p. 107). In support of that thesis, he cites some authorities that one might expect – Demosthenes of Athens, for example, famed for the way he overcame a speech impediment by giving speeches to the sea after filling his mouth with pebbles. But Brant also cites other authorities who might be lesser-known – Sotades of Maroneia, for example, when he writes that “Sotades few words spoke in vain,/Yet got to jail as though he’s slain” (p. 107).

It took a quick visit to Wikipedia for me to learn that Sotades, who was proficient in the “art” of writing obscene satires in verse, made the mistake of turning his poison pen against the Egyptian pharaoh Ptolemy II Philadelphus, and was jailed for it. This translation of The Ship of Fools has some helpful footnotes, but sometimes these footnotes do little more than provide the title for a religious or classical text that the contemporary reader may or may not have read. Sometimes, therefore, readers may have to do a bit more digging on their own.

Some of Brant’s reflections provide insights into the outlook or zeitgeist of the German society of his time. I liked it, for example, when Chapter 92 on “Presumptuousness of Pride” featured Brant indulging in an understandable bit of pride regarding the growth of higher learning in the German states; he notes that whereas “Once men thought learning could but ay/Be sought at Athens far away,” but then says how glad he is that, in his time, higher education is found “now here too on German ground” (p. 300). But there is Ärger im Paradies (trouble in paradise), as Brant feels obliged to report that “Our only failing’s love for wine,/To it we Germans do incline,/And good hard work is rarely done” (p. 300). Well, to be fair, those sweet white wines from the Rhine and Mosel are awfully good…

Translator Edwin Zeydel points out that Brant’s moralism was altogether based in prior authority, whether Biblical or classical; if divine authorities or great ancient thinkers said that something was bad, then that was good enough for him. Additionally, “While Luther, Zwingli, Erasmus, Reuchlin, and Hutten sought to dethrone existing authority, and to establish new standards, Brant revered and defended the accepted traditions” (pp. 7-8). I suppose that, if carriages had had bumper stickers back in the 15th century, Brant’s carriage might have had a bumper sticker reading Gott hat es gesagt, ich glaube es, und damit ist die Sache erledigt (“God said it, I believe it, and that settles it”).

Such considerations come to mind when reading Chapter 61, “Of Dancing,” wherein Brant writes that “dance and sin are one in kind,” and adds that “The dance by Satan was invented/When he devised the golden calf” (p. 204). Wirklich, Herr Doktor Brant? Really, Doctor Brant? Did not King David dance? Is his dancing not recorded in the Bible? Similarly, in Chapter 63, “Of Beggars,” Brant claims that “beggars very rarely [have to] fast” (p. 209). History records that the states of 15th-century Germany did not have a social-welfare system comparable to that of the modern and prosperous Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany). A sense of Christian charity might bring to mind a realization that, in Brant’s time as in our own, some people who beg do so because they have no other recourse.

Brant also has his limitations in terms of religious ecumenism. He seems to have had no problem with an economic system that forced Jewish businessmen to lend money at interest, and denied them other career paths. To lend money at interest was considered “usury” by the church, and Brant’s only concern with regard to money-lending is if Christian businessmen engage in it! And he even calls for a renewed Crusade to “liberate” the Holy Land from Muslim control, notwithstanding all the bloodshed and cruelty and horror and futility of all those prior Crusades.

In fairness to Brant, however, I must mention that, when in later life he achieved political power, becoming chancellor of Strasbourg, he permitted Protestants to preach there, his conservative Catholicism notwithstanding. Considering the times of religious disputation in which he lived, even that degree of religious tolerance must be recognized.

Overall, now that we’re back in port, I find myself reflecting that The Ship of Fools makes for an interesting metaphorical voyage – sometimes interesting, sometimes troubling. In spite of the limitations of the author’s world-view, the work does provide a salutary reminder that we all have a predilection for foolish behaviour. If we can be aware of our own tendency to be foolish, then perhaps we can avoid taking a seat on the Narrenschiff the next time it embarks.

[Manybooks · Rating 2 out of 5]

German (well actually Alsatian) Catholic humanist and theologian Sebastian Brant's 1494 satirical allegory Das Narrenschiff (The Ship of Fool in its English translations) basically consists of a prologue, one hundred and twelve brief satirical poems and an epilogue, and is considered by many scholars a classic of so-called Fool's Literature (Narrenliteratur). I had to read Das Narrenschiff for a graduate level reading course, and used both it and Erasmus of Rotterdam's Lob der Torheit (In Praise of Folly), along with Hermann Bote's more secular, often intensely funny, at times even rather scatological masterpiece Till Eulenspiegel for a term paper contrasting and comparing different types of 15th and 16th century satire in Germany (in Europe). And while this comparison and contrast was, indeed, a very enlightening and thought-provoking process, of the three main (and above-mentioned) satires I read for my term paper, Das Narrenschiff was the one I most definitely personally enjoyed the least. For while the individual poetic interludes do read smoothly and easily enough (and especially if they are rendered into standard modern German) and without too much unnecessary description and adornment, there is also an unfortunate repetitiveness of both style and content, and enough so to lead to tedium and annoyance (at least that has always been my personal experience and opinion with regard to Brant's work).

But much more problematic and in my opinion unfortunately rather symptomatic is that Sebastian Brant really (and herein very much unlike Erasmus of Rotterdam, to whom he is often scholarly compared) has absolutely no or at the very best only a tiny and minuscule sense of humour, whilst also and sadly lacking both humility and humanity, repeatedly and viciously lashing out with an ever increasing holier than thou attitude and iron fist at the perceived weaknesses and vices of his time (but concurrently, while being massively and vigorously critical of even minor peccadilloes, presenting himself in his role as narrator to be somehow sovereignly above and beyond both misbehaviour and criticism, almost as though Brant as narrator were God and God were Brant). And when one then considers the generally gentle, humane and even loving criticism of foolish, of human behaviour in general used by Erasmus in his Lob der Torheit (an almost tender, often intensely funny satire that not only seems to praise folly but shows that everyone, even he himself, is prone to the same), Sebastian Brant really does tend to become, I am sorry to say, increasingly simply a nasty little pedant who strives to only ridicule and chastise, not with gentleness, not with understanding, but with a heavy and powerfully stinging proverbial switch (one that outs Brant, his description and consideration as a humanist notwithstanding, really not as all that humanistic, not as all that humane, but rather as very much much the opposite, and also renders the author's Das Narrenschiff as basically humourless and thus not nearly as enjoyable for pleasure reading as other late Medieval, early Renaissance satiric literature examples).

And while one can thus easily perceive and much appreciate the differences between the on the surface at least somewhat similar satires of Sebastian Brant and Erasmus of Rotterdam, the differences between Sebastian Brant and Hermann Bote, the differences between Das Narrenschiff and Till Eulenspiegel are actually and often in many ways considerably MORE obvious and glaring. For while both of these works are definitely always intensely critical of contemporary society, Herman Bote's satire is generally not only massively and even laugh-out-loud hilarious, it is also often similarly critical of the main character, of Till Eulenspiegel himself, even as the latter exposes and presents a distorted mirror of society and its often decadent, falsifying and hypocritical behaviours and world views (whereas in Das Narrenschiff, Sebastian Brant's anonymous narrator is only ever critical, never really all that funny and also never considers himself as an entity, as a human being, also being possibly guilty of foolishness and blameworthy behaviour). And in and with this here attitude, both Hermann Bote and Erasmus of Rotterdam are actually also very much akin and alike (with their tendency towards universal criticism of everyone, including their main characters, their main narrators, something that I personally have found much if not actually completely missing in action within Das Narrenschiff), although Erasmus' Das Lob der Torheit is of course much less scatological and vulgar than Bote's Till Eulenspiegel often has the tendency to be, but both works do, in my humble opinion, rise far far above and beyond Brant's Das Narrenschiff

Although Sebastian Brant's Das Narresnschiff is thus interesting and enlightening from a literary history point of view, I cannot and will not really consider recommending it, especially for any type of pleasure reading (although I do admit that the accompanying woodcuts by none other than Albrecht Dürer are spectacular and an amazing visual treat). And while I do in fact have always much enjoyed satire, Sebastian Brant's type of satire is basically just a monotonous, droning, usually inherently dictating and painful, slogging list of human frailties, with not much hope either (and as already mentioned, the implied both implicit and even explicit moral superiority of the narrator is simply not at all my proverbial cup of tea). However, if you are still interested in a perusal of Das Narrenschiff, there do seem to be a rather goodly number of more than adequate English translations available (including some very decent dual language English/German offerings).

[Vasil Dakov · Rating 5 out of 5]

В сатиричната поема "Корабът на глупците", германският хуманист Себастиан Брант осмива нравите и пороците на своето време - както сред обикновените хора, така и сред духовници, учени и аристократи. Книгата се счита за едно от най-важните предреформаторски произведения в немската литература. Повлиява по-късно и други сатирични творби, включително „Похвала на глупостта“ от Еразъм Ротердамски.

[Le_Suti · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sebastian Brant hält der Gesellschaft einen Spiegel vor und deckt schonungslos auf, wie wir uns alle zum Narren machen. Und die Thematik war nicht nur im späten 15. Jahrhundert top aktuell, auch heute noch kann man sich in manchen der 112 Kapiteln widererkennen und merkt, wie man sich im Alltag zum Narren macht.

Denn ein jeder wird in seinem Leben einmal auf dem Narrenschiff mitfahren.

[Ajeje Brazov · Rating 3 out of 5]

⭐⭐⭐1/2

All'inizio del nuovo anno son partito con la lettura di un saggio: Storia della follia nell'età classica di Michel Foucault e nel primo capitolo veniva citato, diverse volte, un libro, appunto La nave dei folli di Sebastian Brant e mi aveva incuriosito da subito, soprattutto per il fatto di essere corredato da incisioni dell'epoca. Così m'informo e lo prenoto subito in biblioteca.
L'opera suddivisa in 112 poesie, vorrebbe essere come una discesa nell'Inferno dantesco, dove i folli (traslato chi ha peccato, come nella concezione medievale del termine) vengono elencati e dove ognuno di noi dovrebbe tenersi alla larga. Si va dall'aver rispetto per Dio, dal non farsi alienare dal denaro, dal non cadere in tentazioni, ecc... Insomma una sequela di poesie/filastrocche, perchè il ritmo, la cadenza è quella tipica del periodo, quei versi medievaleggianti del caso.
Il libro è stato ideato per scopi moralizzanti, non ci sono dubbi ed i rimandi ai testi sacri sono innumerevoli e come non poteva essere altrimenti, trattasi di un testo del 1494, scritto nel cuore dell'Europa: la Germania, però è stato reso il tutto come una maestosa e festosa farsa. Infatti l'opera è stata ideata per il periodo di carnevale e all'interno vi troviamo alcuni riferimenti al movimento carnevalesco, che in quel periodo era in gran fermento in tutta Europa.
Tutti possiamo avere il cappello con le orecchie lunghe tipico dei folli, perchè la follia è insita in tutti noi, sta a noi di non perdere la "retta via", per rimanerne sani. Concezione medievale della follia. Nei secoli a venire questo concetto cambierà sostanzialmente, spostandosi dall'ambito spirituale/morale a quello medico/psicologico... ma questa è un'altra storia!
Le incisioni ad inizio di ogni poesia sono davvero la chicca del libro e vi è anche un apparato di spiegazione di esse, così come con le note al testo. L'aspetto negativo è che sono poste a fine libro!!
Fastidiosissimo, ho dovuto inserire 3 segnalibri: uno per il segno alla lettura, uno per le note ed uno per la descrizione delle illustrazioni.

Del disprezzo della povertà

Matti pei soldi ovunque sono molti:
Tanti, da non poter venir raccolti
Insieme; e stiman oro più di onore.
Di povertà non c'è più alcun cultore:
Vita virtuosa più l'uomo non nutre,
E la saggezza ormai fermenta e putre,
E in nessun conto si tiene onestà:
Di rado avvien che rifiorisca qua,
Si preferisce non parlarne affatto.
E chi sol da ricchezza è soddisfatto,
A tutto è pronto pur di averla presto:
Da atto non rifugge disonesto,
Da delitto, da usura e tradimento,
Da peccato e crudele ammazzamento,
Ed è ormai questa moneta corrente.
Chi è disposto a pagare lautamente,
Gli è cancellata ogni scelleratezza.
La giustizia si vende per denaro,
E più d'un finirebbe in modo amaro
Appeso per la gola se, pagato,
Il carcerier non lo avesse liberato.
La colpa grazie all'or resta impunita.
[...]

P.S. Brant (traslato, di conseguenza, l'umanità in quel periodo, anche adesso direi :S) fa un uso spropositato dell'asino per scopi negativi. Al tradizionale: asino con le orecchie, nel senso di stupido e ignorante, anche il cappello tipico dei folli ne è una rappresentazione, Brant lo utilizza anche come strumento per raccontare di vizi e peccati sessuali.
Mi domando sempre che cosa abbia mai fatto di male l'asino agli esseri umani, per renderlo un essere così negativo. Ad esempio, il lupo è utilizzato dall'uomo per descrivere la ferocia, perchè quando caccia il lupo è spietato, ma nel senso che utilizza il suo istinto per cacciare per sopravvivenza, quindi la ferocia è votata a quello e non ad una crudeltà gratuita, solo per divertimento, caratteristica unica ed inimitabile dell'essere umano. Ma l'asino? Misteri della psiche umana!!

[Мартин Касабов · Rating 5 out of 5]

Аз много книги насъбрах,
които пък събират прах,
без нещо да разбирам в тях.

[Zadignose]

Life is short, and there are many great books to read, and this is NOT one of them, so I can't recommend it with any great enthusiasm, not because it lacked all merit, but because it is mediocre. It is not as full of wit as promotional materials would have you believe, and if it had some popular appeal for about three hundred years, well, there's no accounting for taste.

The poetry, in English verse translation, is rather clumsy; I would hope the original German might be better, but I am not particularly assured of that.

The concept seemed appealing; it is a sort of catalogue of all the kinds of human folly, and it pokes fun at every kind of fool, while drawing many analogies and alluding to many classic works to back up the thesis of each chapter/poem. Except, when one reads far enough into it, it becomes apparent that there's really only one way to be a fool, and that is to not be properly Christian in the dull, dry, and joyless way that Brant seems to think we should be.

And again, where is that sparkling wit--that sharp and stinging satire I was promised? Mmmm, it doesn't so much sparkle as give off a soft glow now and then. It does though, reveal some insight into human folly, which is, after all, its stated mission. For instance, it is a bit enlightening to reflect that the same things that concern us today were also recognized troubles of another age, such as the lack of respect given to learning and science:

In number schools were ne'er so great,
As now are found in every state,
And scarce a city now is known,
That calls no higher school its own.
There many scholars now are trained
Who nowadays are quite disdained,
And knowledge gets a scornful glance,
Most men do look at it askance.
The scholars needs must feel a shame
For studies, gown, their very name.
The peasants now attain the fore,
And scholars hide behind the door.
Men say: "These lazy apes, these beasts,
The devil's cursing us with priests!"
That's ample evidence that science
lacks honor, love and breeds defiance.
'Tis thus that studies will be wrecked,
For knowledge prospers through respect,
And when no honor's paid to science
Most men will view it with defiance.

Now, it has taken me five years to read this book--in dribs and drabs, with many a hiatus. Was it worth it? A bit, maybe. Of course such a book must be preserved, and someone's going to have to read such books on occasion just to keep classic books alive. But you don't have to make that sacrifice just now if you have anything more pressing to attend to.

Cheers.

[Anthony · Rating 4 out of 5]

be sure to read a version with the original woodcuts, they're wonderful! i kept a tally while i read this, and i found that i earn my place aboard das Narrenschiff on at least 29 counts. although brant's catalogue of foolishness is rather comprehensive, after reading a copy borrowed from the library i would like to propose one more measure to the list, namely: "Of Penciling Inane Commentary Into the Margins of Library Books" -- that ought to pay your fare to monkey land sufficiently.

[Chas Bayfield · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read this in German in Germany in 1990. I skipped a lot of it as my 'pub German' wasn't quite up to the intricasies of 15th century Deutsch. The general theme (I think) is that we are all idiots, which is pretty accurate.

[Amira · Rating 5 out of 5]

4,5
Masterpiece!

[Lulu]

1494

[Ian Chadwick · Rating 4 out of 5]

Remarkably relevant even today, more than 500 years later.

[Tslyklu · Rating 3 out of 5]

Was worth skimming through for a look at what Western Europeans evaluated as the chief failures of the late Middle Ages, Renaissance ideals emerging, the weirdo pictures are something to look forward to but not a lot surprising, except I would love to know what it was women were saying to their husbands to make them so miserable because judging from this they really seem to have had misandry down to an art.

[Aric · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really loved the wood-cuts.

[Kat · Rating 2 out of 5]

Das Narrenschiff von Sebastian Brant (3,6 Sterne)

Das Buch

Im Jahr 1494 hat Sebastian Brant eine Sammlung von Kapiteln veröffentlicht, die eine davon Auflistung geben, welche menschlichen Fehler auf ein Narrendasein schließen lassen. Dabei war er so erfolgreich, dass er Material für 112 Kapitel (wobei 110 in der zweiten Auflage noch um 110a und 110b erweitert wurde) eingesammelt hat, also 112 Gründe, die beweisen, dass der Mensch ein Narr ist.

Warum ich das Buch gelesen habe

Ich weiß nur noch, dass ich irgendwo eine Referenz zu dem Titel gesehen habe, dachte, dass es sehr interessant klingt und mir dann das ebook heruntergeladen – kostenlos auf Amazon. Es musste sich dann noch eine Weile hintenanstellen, aber schließlich hatte ich Zeit dafür.

Die Idee

Dem Menschen seine eigene Dummheit predigen – gibt es etwas besseres? Allerdings hätte ich nie erwartet, dass man so viele Gründe finden könnte, und es ist anzunehmen, dass es nicht einmal alle waren, selbst zu Zeiten Brants. Natürlich habe ich manchmal den Kopf geschüttelt, ob es nun wegen unzeitgemäßer (heutzutage) Kommentare war, oder auch weil er sich gelegentlich wiederholte, aber der Ansatz war generell sehr individuell. Allerdings nicht originell, denn selbst mit meinen geringen Kenntnissen der Literatur und Traditionen dieser Zeit, und auch meinem begrenzten Bibelwissen, konnte ich sehen, wo viele seiner Kapitelinspirationen herkamen. Da waren Anlehnungen an die Bibel, hauptsächlich griechische, aber auch andere Mythologien, Dantes Göttliche Komödie, besonders dem ersten Teil der Hölle.

Ganzer Kommentar

[Michael Haase · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's too bad that such a witty and hilarious text should have no modern English translation, at least as far as I'm aware. The only English translation I know of is the one done by Alexander Barclay sometime in the mid 15th century, and that I found almost entirely illegible. In fact, I found the modern German translation easier to read, even though English is my mother tongue.

As far as the writing goes, it had me cracking up a lot of the time. It shares the sense of humor and cynicism towards humanity that pervaded medieval European literature, as in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales or paintings by Hieronymus Bosch, and which I just love to see.

But like those aforementioned art pieces, Brant's writing also bears an element of conservatism and piety which almost borders on fanaticism at points. One of his "fools", for example, is simply a non-Christian.

"Der ist ein Narr, der nicht der Schrift
Will glauben, die das Heil betrifft"

And there were other features in his text I found distasteful as well, like his approval of physical punishment or his fixation with traditionalist values. In some ways I might place Brant himself as one of the fools in the ship. But all the same, this is, for the most part, a fun and entertaining text, so long as you can read it. If you can't, there's always the woodcuttings.

[Artur Llinares · Rating 4 out of 5]

Una obra de la litearatura alemana medieval. Una maravilla la obra en sí, pero lo que nos ofrece
Akal hace que tome un valor aun mayor. Un prólogo que nos permite no únicamente comprender mejor la obra; sino establecer unas bases para replantearnos el paso de lo medieval a lo renacentista. 419 paginas en un formato compacto, facil de llevar y aun mas facil de leer. La lectura mas interesante de este otoño sin duda.

[Mihailo Milosavljević · Rating 4 out of 5]

with folly all the world's insane,
it trusts the fool, the most inane.
in calendars and prophecy—
in these the printers profit see,
they'll print whatever one may bring,
yes, e'en the most disgraceful thing.
such things go scot-free, are believed,
the whole world wants to be deceived.
if such art were observed and taught
and not with dangerous evil fraught,
so that for man's soul 'twould be well,
as moses did and daniel,
of wickedness it would not savor,
'twould have our confidence and favor.

[Opino]

Zentralbibliothek
Stuttgart

Magazin 52 Bra

[Antonio Gallo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Questo post recensione ha origine da una conversazione nata su Facebook a proposito di una frase di Petrarca: "I libri condussero alcuni alla saggezza, altri alla follia." Qualche anno dopo Petrarca, a Basilea nel 1494, venne pubblicato un libro in occasione del carnevale. L'autore Sebastian Brant, (1457-1521) mise tutti i folli su una nave, che poi è la nave della vita. Una gentile amica mi ha chiesto se su Facebook siamo saggi o folli. Io ho risposto che dai tempi di Petrarca i libri sono cambiati. Non sono più quelli di prima, ma la follia continua ad imperversare, anche se in forma diversa. Magari digitale.

"La Nave dei folli” è uno di quei libri di cui tutti parlano, citato mille volte, ma che pochi conoscono. Composta da oltre settemila versi in rime baciate, l’opera è un grottesco e disastroso viaggio dei matti che nella concezione di Brant, a cavallo tra tardo medioevo e rinascimento, sono tutt’uno con i peccatori, verso il naufragio finale che precede la quaresima, metafora dell’eterna punizione se non interviene il pentimento.

Testo straordinario per la sua “contabilità”, scorrevolezza e pregnanza, “La nave dei folli” è forse il libro tedesco che ha avuto più fortuna nei secoli: un grande classico che si colloca nella scissura tra vecchio e nuovo mito, a conclusione del Gotico e a inaugurazione dell’invenzione del nuovo mondo. Brant, nato a Strasburgo ma vissuto a Basilea dove insegnò a quella università, fu uno dei primi “ consulenti editoriali” della storia: seppe servirsi della stampa in maniera moderna.

Raccolse intorno a sé una equipe di illustratori, il principale dei quali fu Albrecht Durer, che eseguirono le xilografie che illustrano l’opera, composta dunque da una “colonna sonora” e da un indissolubile commento grafico, sì da articolare una irresistibile “Totentanz”, tragica ma non priva di tocchi umoristici: clamorosa satira, coloratissima “festa dei pazzi”, orrenda e allegra kermesse che nella sua straordinaria giocosità è fonte di sicuro divertimento, ma anche momento di attenta meditazione per ciascun lettore.

DEI LIBRI INUTILI

Di stolti e pazzi la ridda precedo
Ché molti libri attorno a me pur vedo
Che io non leggo e in cui neppure credo.
Se io per primo sulla Nave siedo,
Non è senza ragione, lo concedo:
Con i libri da sempre ho un gran daffare
E molti ne ho saputo accumulare.
Spesso neppure un'acca ne comprendo,
Eppure grande onore loro rendo:
Di scacciarne le tarme mi accontento.
Se di scienze si fa ragionamento,
"A casa tutto questo tengo!" esclamo,
Ché d'aver libri attorno, altro non bramo.
Di Tolomeo il gran re si sente dire
Che di libri ne avesse a non finire
D'ogni parte del mondo radunati
E a guisa di tesori venerati.
Ma molti stavan solo ad occupare
Spazio, senza al gran re nulla insegnare.
Al par di lui, io ne possiedo molti,
Ma ben di rado ne ho consigli colti.
Forse che dovrei rompermi la testa
Per farne di nozioni una gran cesta?
Chi troppo studia, si riduce scemo!
E come un gran signor, certo non temo
Di pagare chi impari al posto mio!
Sono tardo di mente, è questo il fio:
Ma quando siedo col sapiente e il dotto,
Ho pronto l' "ita!" e qualche altro motto
Che possa voler dire "son d'accordo".
Che qui siamo tedeschi, ben ricordo.
Ne mastico assai poco, di latino.
So che vinum vuol dire proprio vino,
Che gucklus vuole dire semplicione
E stultus chi ne ha poca, di ragione,
E che "domine doctor!" son chiamato,
E da tutti, ed ovunque, rispettato.
Sulla testa il berretto uso calzare,
Dell'asino le orecchie per celare.

[Antonio Gallo · Rating 5 out of 5]

A proposito di una frase di Petrarca: "I libri condussero alcuni alla saggezza, altri alla follia." Qualche anno dopo Petrarca, a Basilea nel 1494, venne pubblicato un libro in occasione del carnevale. L'autore Sebastian Brant, (1457-1521) mise tutti i folli su una nave, che poi è la nave della vita. Una gentile amica mi ha chiesto se su Facebook siamo saggi o folli. Io ho risposto che dai tempi di Petrarca i libri sono cambiati. Non sono più quelli di prima, ma la follia continua ad imperversare, anche se in forma diversa. Magari digitale.

"La Nave dei folli” è uno di quei libri di cui tutti parlano, citato mille volte, ma che pochi conoscono. Composta da oltre settemila versi in rime baciate, l’opera è un grottesco e disastroso viaggio dei matti che nella concezione di Brant, a cavallo tra tardo medioevo e rinascimento, sono tutt’uno con i peccatori, verso il naufragio finale che precede la quaresima, metafora dell’eterna punizione se non interviene il pentimento.

Testo straordinario per la sua “contabilità”, scorrevolezza e pregnanza, “La nave dei folli” è forse il libro tedesco che ha avuto più fortuna nei secoli: un grande classico che si colloca nella scissura tra vecchio e nuovo mito, a conclusione del Gotico e a inaugurazione dell’invenzione del nuovo mondo. Brant, nato a Strasburgo ma vissuto a Basilea dove insegnò a quella università, fu uno dei primi “ consulenti editoriali” della storia: seppe servirsi della stampa in maniera moderna.

Raccolse intorno a sé una equipe di illustratori, il principale dei quali fu Albrecht Durer, che eseguirono le xilografie che illustrano l’opera, composta dunque da una “colonna sonora” e da un indissolubile commento grafico, sì da articolare una irresistibile “Totentanz”, tragica ma non priva di tocchi umoristici: clamorosa satira, coloratissima “festa dei pazzi”, orrenda e allegra kermesse che nella sua straordinaria giocosità è fonte di sicuro divertimento, ma anche momento di attenta meditazione per ciascun lettore.

DEI LIBRI INUTILI

Di stolti e pazzi la ridda precedo
Ché molti libri attorno a me pur vedo
Che io non leggo e in cui neppure credo.
Se io per primo sulla Nave siedo,
Non è senza ragione, lo concedo:
Con i libri da sempre ho un gran daffare
E molti ne ho saputo accumulare.
Spesso neppure un'acca ne comprendo,
Eppure grande onore loro rendo:
Di scacciarne le tarme mi accontento.
Se di scienze si fa ragionamento,
"A casa tutto questo tengo!" esclamo,
Ché d'aver libri attorno, altro non bramo.
Di Tolomeo il gran re si sente dire
Che di libri ne avesse a non finire
D'ogni parte del mondo radunati
E a guisa di tesori venerati.
Ma molti stavan solo ad occupare
Spazio, senza al gran re nulla insegnare.
Al par di lui, io ne possiedo molti,
Ma ben di rado ne ho consigli colti.
Forse che dovrei rompermi la testa
Per farne di nozioni una gran cesta?
Chi troppo studia, si riduce scemo!
E come un gran signor, certo non temo
Di pagare chi impari al posto mio!
Sono tardo di mente, è questo il fio:
Ma quando siedo col sapiente e il dotto,
Ho pronto l' "ita!" e qualche altro motto
Che possa voler dire "son d'accordo".
Che qui siamo tedeschi, ben ricordo.
Ne mastico assai poco, di latino.
So che vinum vuol dire proprio vino,
Che gucklus vuole dire semplicione
E stultus chi ne ha poca, di ragione,
E che "domine doctor!" son chiamato,
E da tutti, ed ovunque, rispettato.
Sulla testa il berretto uso calzare,
Dell'asino le orecchie per celare.

[Петко Ристић · Rating 4 out of 5]

Freilich ich sage euch, dies Narrenschiff gleicht einem zeitlosen Gemälde, welches 3/4 unserer Spezies abgebildet hat - schonungslos und erstaunlich ehrlich erkennt man, warum Brant gerade auf all jene Sorten sann; überfüllt von Wollüstigen, Halbsüchtigen, Selbstzufriedenen, Wucherern, Lehrern, Beamten, Fassnachtgängern, Türken, etc.
Auch jene die unnütze Bücher schreiben und lesen werden hinein gepresst, gleichwie jene die zu viel schwatzen, sich zu viel Sorgen machen, sich als selbstgerecht aufspielen, sich unnützen Reichtum aneignen und den Schein lieben.

Brants Verse sind erstaunlich melodisch und derb zugleich, an Angriffen gegen menschliche Schwächen ist dies Buch wahrlich reich. Gegen Schluss erklärt Sebastian Brant hierfür seine Motive.

"Leicht wär's mit Narrheit sich befassen,
Könnt' man auch leicht von Narrheit lassen,
Doch wenn dies einer auch beginne,
Wird er gar vieler Hinderung inne.

Der ist ein Narr und großer Tor,
Wer einen Werkmann lohnt zuvor,
Denn der gar oft die Sorgfalt spart,
Wer nicht auf künft'gen Lohn mehr harrt.
Gar wenig wird für Geld getan,
Das schon verzehrt ist und vertan,
Und dem Werk bald der Stillstand droht,
Wo man zuvor schon aß das Brot.
Drum, hätte man mir wollen lohnen,
Dass ich der Narren sollte schonen,
Ich hätt mich wenig dran gekehrt,
Auch wär das Geld jetzo verzehrt
Und nicht mehr Sicherheit gewährt,
Weil alles, was da ist auf Erden Für Torheit muss geachtet werden.
Hätt ich dies Buch um Geld gemacht,
Nur wenig Lohn hätt ich gesehn."

Ich empfand das Lesen dieses längst vergessenen Klassikers als durchaus angenehm und charmant, insbesondere aufgrund der darin geäußerten radikalen, redlichen Ehrlichkeit, wie man sie heute kaum drucken darf. Man stelle sich das Geschrei der braven Bürger vor, würde heute in unserer ach so meinungsfreien Zeit jemand so gegen kokette Frauen oder türkische Sitten schreiben; Misogynie und Fremdenhass würde ihm von all jenen unterstellt, welche den Illusionen sind verfällt.

Kleinliche Empfindungen, die sich heute im Heiligenstand befinden, wären bei solchen Worten schnell angeregt:

"Wer aber Frauen tun will recht,
Sei stärker als ein Kriegesknecht,
Denn sie tun oft durch Blödigkeit
Noch mehr als wie durch Listigkeit."

"Hier hab ich gestellt noch viel beisammen,
Die Narren sind auch nach dem Namen,
Wovor doch andre Scham bekamen.

Von ausländischen Narren

Noch gibt es viel unnütze Leute,
Die tragen wüste Narrenhäute
Und sind darin verharret ganz,
Gebunden auf des Teufels Schwanz,
Und wollen nicht davon abstehn.
Vorbei will ich mit Schweigen gehn,
Will lassen sie in Narrheit bleiben,
Von ihrer Torheit wenig schreiben.
Das sind die Mohren, Türken, Heiden"

Rechtsradikal, nicht wahr? Die etwas Klügeren würden sich solche Verse natürlich im mittelalterlichen Kontext erklären und dabei wie immer das Wesentliche, nämlich Zeitlose, übersehen. Nur eine reiche Lebenserfahrung und eine solide Kenntnis historischer Begebenheiten erleichtert das Verständnis solcher Worte.

Fast alles von dem was Brant hier an unserer Spezies anprangert, ist nach wie vor vorhanden und lässt sich täglich erkennen. Gerade das macht das Werk lesenswert.

[Sarahtar · Rating 3 out of 5]

If men should scold me, saying: “Please,

O doctor, cure your own disease,

For you are also foolish, odd—”

I know it, I confess to God,

Of folly I was never free,

I’ve joined the fool’s fraternity.

I pull the cap which I would doff,

Yet my fool’s cap will not come off,

But I’ve applied great industry,

And much have learned, as you may see,

That numerous arrant fools I know,

And hope, if God but wills it so,

That I’ll improve in time through wit

If God will grant such benefit.

Let each one guard lest he may fail

And lest fool’s curry comb prevail

And lest the wand grow old in hand.

Let every fool this understand,

So speaks Sebastianus Brant,

Who urges men to wisdom’s state

No matter what be their estate.

Good workers never come too late.



Despite ending with this bit, Brant doesn't seem the least bit humble throughout.

But, like many old old books, this one remains pretty relevant. Today's readers aren't really as into long lists of all the ways you've disappointed God as those of Brant's time were, though.

[Romano · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quien se tiene por único íntegro y a los otros juzga malvados y poca cosa, choca a menudo con una dura piedra

Es de ése tipo de obras que por su valor histórico están por encima del bien y el mal. Debo reconocer que mi lectura fue sumamente superficial y provocada por la necesidad de conocer las referencias abordadas en Historia de la locura en la época clásica, 1 de Michel Foucault. Si bien puede parecer sumamente moralizante bajo nuestra perspectiva contemporánea, esta pieza de Sebastian Brant es indispensable para entender el cambio del pensamiento a lo largo de la existencia humana.

[Garrett Mikulka · Rating 3 out of 5]

As far as the text goes, the last few chapters are the best, the most human, the most sympathetic. Much of the book is pretty puritan in feel (though he definitely wasn’t a Protestant). The disappointed preacher pointing the finger at the lazy, the immoral, the ill-prepared, etc.

This was also pitched as satirical, but it only occasionally gets into satire territory. For the most part, he’s just calling people out. I needed to read this book, but it became a trudge.

These were not the fools I was looking for.

The woodcuts are superb.

[Robert Palmer · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is one of a handful of books and plays that I read in German (struggled to read is more like it) while a student at Tulane University. Those works collectively gave me the distinct impression that all German literature is dark and depressing and that it all focuses on human psychology.

This is not the edition I read, but I cannot find that one.

We did not read the complete work, but only selections.

Date of completion is a rough estimate.

[James Violand · Rating 3 out of 5]

An interesting fable-like composition. Fools come in all shapes and sizes and Brant skewers them all. He points out the failures attained by those bent on securing the good life without a moral compass.