Search Results

The French Renaissance (c.1500–1640) produced a diverse body of literature devoted to the lives of the saints, including individual lives, multi-authored catalogues and anthologies, sermons, revised liturgies, diocesan lists, editions of patristic texts, and prose and verse plays. Hagiography continued to reinforce corporate identities as it had in medieval culture. Humanism and religious reform tended to undermine this use of hagiography by encouraging more critical approaches, but also prompted a vigorous Catholic revival of hagiography. Humanist-inspired critical scholarship, which peaked in the seventeenth century, did not usher in widespread ‘disenchantment’ with the cult of the saint as is often alleged. Rather it reoriented hagiography away from excessive reverence for the classical era and toward a more informed piety.

This book shows that certain women, especially those featured in the following chapters, played a fundamental part in delineating the Renaissance in France, and, despite the efforts of subsequent writers to reduce them to romantic figures or even write them out of history altogether, exercised political power and influence. They contributed to the new culture in such significant ways that they, as much as their male counterparts, defined the French Renaissance. In fact, the French Renaissance was shaped, in large part, by the actions and accomplishments of these women. As such, the court's centrality and women's status in it made the French Renaissance more distinctively feminine than its Italian counterpart. Compared with the Italian Renaissance, French elite women, especially queens and mistresses, were in a better position to advance this new cultural movement.

The introduction begins by setting out an initial paradox: why is it that even tourists are arguably aware of, and probably appreciate, the epic art of French Renaissance châteaux whereas the period’s literary epics—over 200 in number—are maligned and, more generally, not read? The connection between literary epic and the sister arts is subsequently revealed to be not a problem, but the means by which the initial paradox could be explored. To present a first idea of method, several works of art from the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Renaissance room are discussed in terms of their relationship to the written word. Discussion follows of the study’s historical, generic, and other boundaries, as well as of those previous studies with which it dialogues. Several essential words art defined: epic (not used in French until 1623) and art (all too often assumed to mean ‘painting’, and here pluralized).

This chapter focuses on Francis I, a handsome, tall, and richly attired king who epitomized the French Renaissance, and who, coming to the throne as a young man, embodied hopes for a new reign with his vitality, which offered a striking contrast to the enfeebled Louis XII. Francis I claimed that “a court without women is like a year without spring” and that, without women, a court “more resembles the court of a satrap or a Turk than that of a great Christian king.” In his estimation, a cultured court required women. As such, the royal court, the venue in which the Renaissance emerged in France, was more hospitable to women than other new cultural sites, especially when the king promoted their participation.

This book sees it fit to end the history of the Renaissance—as told here through the lives of some of its most prominent queens and mistresses—with the death of Gabrielle d'Estrees. The year of Gabrielle's death coincided with the inauguration of a new period in French history, with much stronger state control of politics, economics, and culture, and with less openness to politically active women; although, as in all times, there were notable exceptions. Gabrielle's death marked the end of the immediate possibility of a mistress becoming queen of France. Obvious comparisons between Agnes and Gabrielle, the mistresses who begin and end this history, respectively, are also presented and analyzed here. The women profiled here belong to the political, social, and cultural history of the French Renaissance, and undertook important political and cultural activities during the period, making them more central to the unfolding of French history than one might expect or than most histories of the period acknowledge.

This chapter examines the etymologies of copia in relation to the cornucopian text problems of writing during the French Renaissance period. Its etymologies touch on many central aspects of Latin culture and its European legacy because they originate from the successful outgrowth from the parent form, which embraces the domains of material riches and natural plenty and figurative abundance. Thus in many of its senses, copia can be taken to mean the notion of mastery, whether linguistic or social.

This chapter examines the concept of improvisation and inspiration in relation to the cornucopian text problems of writing during the French Renaissance period. It suggests that Desiderius Erasmus' allusion to Proteus as a figure for copius discourse leads directly to the theme of extempore fluency and this makes evident the extent to which copia is a term that eludes the constraints of precept. It suggests that the notions of improvisation and inspiration mirror one another in French poetics.

This chapter adds to the discussion of the French translations of Virgil by focusing on Books 4 and 6 of Du Bellay’s translations of the Aeneid, written in the 1550s. The chapter places Du Bellay’s translation in the context of Renaissance translations and of the evolution of French language and poetics. Furthermore, Gautier contemplates how Du Bellay’s translations of Virgil made a mark on his own original poetry, and vice versa. One form of poetry becomes closely intertwined with and informs the other. Du Bellay not only assimilates the imagery and rhythm of Virgilian epic but, through Virgil, ponders on his own poetic voice.

This chapter summarizes the main findings of the book and considers their wider consequences. The Medieval Romance languages are argued to occupy important points on the V2 typology, which are linked to variable loci of V2 within the left periphery. Contrary to various claims in the literature, the analysis suggests that many Romance V2 systems are not less strict than all their Germanic counterparts. It is suggested that changes observable within the medieval period concerning V2 may account for important morphosyntactic isoglosses separating Romance varieties today, impacting the makeup of the left periphery, the null argument system, and the syntax–pragmatics mapping more generally. The chapter concludes by suggesting that the post-medieval period is an important forum for future research, with detailed research on the varieties in question from the 14th century onwards generally lacking in the literature.

The Philadelphia Ballet’s performances of Barn Dance and Terminal in Paris, Brussels, and London are enormously popular with audiences and critics. In Paris, Rolf de Maré presents Catherine with the French Renaissance Medal for her ballet contributions and company members take lessons with Lubov Egorova. In Brussels, Belgium’s King Leopold III comes out of mourning to attend a performance and personally greet the Littlefield sisters. In London, company members visit the London Zoo and Cyril Beaumont’s ballet shop. The company receives twenty-five curtain calls on opening night at the Hippodrome and its run is extended by a week. British critic Arnold Haskell emerges as the company’s chief champion in the press.

This chapter discusses the Itinerarium provinciarum by Antonini Augusti and its 1512 issue edited by Geoffroy Tory, a map emblematic of the relationship of topography and cosmography in the early years of the French Renaissance. An image of the world prior to the Columbian discoveries, the map contains land and water within a broad arc. The map serves as fitting epigraph for reflection on topography in the early work of French writer and humanist François Rabelais, particularly on his novels Pantagruel and Gargantua. Studies of his geography have shown that an uncanny awareness of the changing form of the world influences the ever-changing proportions of the author’s gentle giants in the worlds they inhabit. The chapter argues that the concepts of Rabelais would fit in Geoffroy Tory’s scheme because they belong to local places and aspire to a more animated and changing view of the world.