Proensa: An Anthology of Troubadour Poetry

by Paul Blackburn (Translator), George D. Economou (Editor), William IX Ramnulfids

It was out of medieval Provence—Proensa—that the ethos of courtly love emerged, and it was in the poetry of the Provençal troubadours that it found its perfect expression. Their poetry was also a central inspiration for Dante and his Italian contemporaries, propagators of the modern vernacular lyric, and seven centuries later it was no less important to the modernist Ezra Pound. These poems, a source to which poetry has returned again and again in search of renewal, are subtle, startling, earthy, erotic, and supremely musical.

The poet Paul Blackburn studied and translated the troubadours for twenty years, and the result of that long commitment is Proensa , an anthology of thirty poets of the eleventh through thirteenth centuries, which has since established itself not only as a powerful and faithful work of translation but as a work of poetry in its own right. Blackburn’s Proensa , George Economou writes, “will take its place among Gavin Douglas’ Aeneid , Golding’s Metamorphoses , the Homer of Chapman, Pope, and Lattimore, Waley’s Japanese, and Pound’s Chinese, Italian, and Old English.”

Genres: Poetry, France, Medieval, Classics, French Literature

352 pages, Paperback

First published September 11, 1978

Reviews

[Caroline · Rating 5 out of 5]

In the oaths of women, no, I have no faith,
nor would I ask them to swear anything to me,
for put
a marabotin [coin of some worth] in one hand to tell the truth
and a garlic in the other to pay a lie and
you know already,
zut! the garlic wins.

Your opinion of this book will depend on whether you require translations to be as literal as possible, or as true to form as possible. If you do, stick to a different translator. If, on the other hand, you allow that a creative mind can capture the essence of the poet in a way that speaks to a modern audience, but without injecting the translator’s ego, I think you will enjoy it immensely. I thought it was marvelous.

However, I do have some reservations, or at least warnings. The original Occitan is not presented. Editor George Economou argues that it isn’t necessary or even desirable, but I disagree. I dug out some other translations I had, but had never read, and found that the Occitan en face was quite informative and helpful. This was particularly important in understanding the poetics of the original. Blackburn doesn’t strive to mimic the scansion or for the most part any rhyming. In his introduction George Economou says:

He never tries to “xerox" such features line length or rhyme scheme. Yet each strophe is rendered fully, its meaning intact, as he breaks the line according to his own voice...[an example] Thus the translator makes literal in his version what was metaphorical in the original in order to insure its meaning and to prepare for the poem’s moment of greatest intensity and sensuality...Wharever its literary, rhetorical, semantic, or musical implications, the rhyme scheme of the original poem cannot transcend the historical contingencies of its performances in old Provençal. Blackburn knew not only this but also the audience for whom he was remaking the poem...we can applaud his tendency to concretize and illustrate what his Provençal original presented generallyand as common knowledge...

Economou’s introduction spends quite a bit of time describing Blackburn’s credentials, the history of the book, and his thoughts on translation. On rereading I see a bit more information than I gleaned originally on the actual poetics.; it repays another look after finishing Blackburn’s translations.

In any case, when I finally looked at some actual songs in Occitan (or old Provençal; can’t remember if there is a difference) I could see that in some cases the rhyme crossed stanzas, i.e. was on the corresponding lines of the stanzas: the first line of the first stanza rhymed with the first line of of the second stanza, the second line of the first stanza rhymed with the second line of the second stanza, etc. In other cases every line of the poem rhymed: AAAAAAA... (Economou does mention this coblas unisonans scheme in the introduction.) There were of course several other schemes. I expect to find a lot more about the poetics of the originals as I read more about the troubadours.

Second, there is no general introduction that explains Troubadour poetry, although Economou discusses a couple of examples in the introduction. The notes to each poem are sketchy, focusing on explaining who the poems refer to. I was at sea on such basic ideas as the difference between a canso and a sirvente until a note to a poem on pge 85. So you will need additional resources.

That said, the translations a pure pleasure. Blackburn has selected a wide variety of poets, styles, and topics. He organizes the poets chronologically, including either a brief of-the-period vida (biographical sketch) or if that is lacking, his own note on the poet. He also includes any relevant razo, or ‘reason,’ a contextual note, of the time to set the particular poem. These are usually anecdotes. I was not too interested in the love poetry that extolled the beauty and virtue of the lady, but there is plenty else here. There are many funny send-ups of rival troubadours, laments about cold mistresses, a couple of pastorellas in which a smart cookie of a peasant girl resists seduction, and plenty of political sirventes about kings, counts, popes, etc. I was surprised by the sarcasm and very personal invective in some of the poems. I think my favorite poet, in part for his use of these tactics, was Marcabru. Really startling.

I also loved a lament by the Monk of Montaudon (a capital fellow) which was a litany of complaints about dozens of annoyances large and small that gained in hilarity as he careened from peeve to peeve. (A song called an enueg.) Along about the middle, when he’s really wound up, come these examples:

...May God aid me soon, I find it trying to sit
at a long table with a short tablecover. And it
makes me itchy when they put to cut the roast
a big, red lackey with his hands all scabs, and
I hate a heavy hauberk where the mail don’t fit,

And Christ! it annoys me to stand at the door
when the weather’s bad and it’s raining hard.
Mmm, something else I can’t put up with long,
that’s to watch a squabble between good friends,
and still more annoying to realize that they
--both of them--are in the wrong....

For comparison, I looked at some of Ezra Pound’s translations, and found I much preferred Blackburn.

My Goodreads friend Jan-Maat has suggested that for background a reader look at Medieval Literature, Part Two: The European Inheritance.

[Mitch · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the most important translations to ever be published. These poems are the root of romance literature, from Dante forward, and these translations make them available in a readable edition, and Blackburn makes them his own.

[Nathaniel · Rating 3 out of 5]

The translations are well-done, but are definitely Blackburn's own. Why isn't there a good comprehensive, bilingual, literal-translated anthology of troubadour poetry?

[Caomhghain · Rating 5 out of 5]

Short of learning Occitan and reading the originals this book is undoubtedly the finest approach to troubadour poetry. The translations are lively (and not solemn as is sometimes the case) and have a feel of freshness and liveliness. The notes are excellent. Certainly a book which deserves to be a classic.

[Adrian Alvarez · Rating 3 out of 5]

I admit I was more interested in troubadour poetry than Blackburn and though these loose translations are nice they are far too removed from their originals to provide what I was looking for.

[WILLIAM SEATON · Rating 5 out of 5]

In my opinion this is the best translation. Readers may wish tom have a look at my "Introuction to the Troubadours" at http://williamseaton.blogspot.com/201....