The Role of Music in Guillaume de Machuat's "Remede de Fortune"
I wrote this for Elizabeth Eva Leach's prelims course on the music of Guillaume de Machaut. This was definitely the course that first got me interested in medievalism--especially the questions of manuscript materiality and interpolation that would later influence my work on George Banjamin's Written on Skin so heavily.
***
According to
James L. WImsatt, Guillaume de Machaut’s Remede
de Fortune (cure for bad luck) is ‘probably the most important French love poem
of the fourteenth century’. It is usually thought to have been written before
1349, but is yet to be conclusively dated.[1]
It appears in some manuscripts without music, but is fully notated and most
elaborately illuminated in manuscript C (folio 23r to 58 v), Mauchaut’s
earliest complete-works compilation (dated circa 1350-56).[2]
Sylvia Huot points out that this quality of illumination suggests that ‘the
skilled Master …, whose work in [manuscript C] is limited to this text, was
evidently commissioned specially to illustrate this important piece’ and that
this is an indication of ‘its importance in Machaut’s eyes’.[3]
It is one of eight long narrative dits written
by him, and gives a first-person
narrative account of ‘the narrator’s youthful initiation into love’.[4]
It is multimedia in presentation: its scheme is of octosyllabic rhyming
couplets and there are nine lyrical insertions, with music provided for seven
of them. These are in each of the formes
fixes and appear in the following order:
Lais
Complainte
Chanson
roial
Baladelle
Balade
Virelais
Rondelet
Wimsatt
describes the story of Remede as
‘hardly complex’.[5] Lines
1-44 constitute a prologue in which the narrator looks back on his ‘youthful
love apprenticeship’ in a ‘clerkly-didactic voice’.[6]
He prepares the reader for a transition (lines 45-134) through which the
first-person narrator is presented as a courtly lover (l’Amant). He secretly
composes poems for his lady, which include the lay, Qui n’aroit autre deport
(lines 431-680), ‘fleeing in despair’ without taking proper leave when she asks
who the lay, which he had to sing for her, was written by (lines 681-782).[7]
This leads to a second scene of sorts: The park of Hesdin, a walled garden. In
it, l’Amant ‘bewails his fate to fortune’, singing a long complaint (lines 905-1480): Tels
rit au main qui au soir pleure. In response to this, Esperence (Hope) arrives as an allegorical woman figure and defends
Love in her chanson royal (Joie, plaisance et douce norriture) before
revealing her identity. She explains that Fortune is cyclical, and sings her baladelle (En amer a douce vie, lines 2857-2892), which consoles l’Amant, who
leaves the park after singing his balade
(Dame, de qui toute ma joie vient, lines
3013-36). He then returns to court, but at the sight of the lady’s chateau
finds himself unable to gather the courage to speak to her. Hope and Love
return and he performs an unnotated Prière
(prayer- Amours, je to lo et graci, lines
3205-3348) to them. There is then an ‘outdoor courtly festivity’ of singing and
dancing where the lover finally sings a virelay
to his lady (Dame, a vous sans
retollir, lines 3451-96), before
declaring his love (which she accepts) to her at her chateau (lines 3517-3872).[8]
They exchange rings in Hope’s presence and l’Amant sings the rondelet (Dame, mon cuer en vous remaint, lines 4109-16). In spite of this,
the ending is ambiguous, and not altogether optimistic as the narrator begins
to find the lady’s attentions lukewarm after returning from his travels (lines
4117-4258).
Huot describes
the lyrico-narrative poetics of the Remede
as ‘an important crystallization of the large-scale poetics of Machaut’s
oeuvre’ and the illuminations as ‘a visual mapping out of poetic process’.[9]
In this way, the manuscript forms which the Remede
takes are ‘an oral performative medium’ that embodies text, object and act.[10]
That the Remede is a work to be
experienced reflects much of what the text exemplifies, as a direct result of
the juxtaposition of its didactic and lyrical natures, and Huot sees the
miniatures as a ‘crystallization of experience’.[11]
The Prologue of the Remede presents
itself as a didactic, experiential exemplar from the outset, referring to the
Aristotelian concept of the tabula rasa (that
the innocent mind, unsullied by experience, can be consciously inscribed upon
by ‘meekly received instruction’) when the clerkly narrator states that
[one] should seek [wisdom] at an early age, before his heart turns to
wickedness through too much experience; for the true state of innocence is like
the white and polished tablet that is ready to receive the exact image of
whatever one wishes to portray or paint upon it.[12]
The parallels
between tabula rasa sentiment and
Machaut’s act of compiling manuscripts of blank parchment which is literally
written on, notated, and ‘painted upon’ by scribes, ‘receiving the exact image’
of what Machaut wished to portray, imply a much more physical realm of the Remede’s didacticism, which is lost when
its performance is conceived of as sonic alone.[13]
This is why Huot posits that ‘the repetition of the word lire (to read) in both rubric and text stresses the fact that the
lay is indeed written’.[14]
In the case of the lay, there is a meta-act of writing in the form of illumination
3: “how the lover composes a lay about his sentement”
(figure 1) in manuscript C, showing l’Amant in the act of writing on hugely
long scrolls in ‘solitary inspired composition’.[15]
The mise-en-page of this is
significant: it is directly followed by the notation of the lay, and then by illumination
4: “How the lady has the Lover read the lai he’d composed” (figure 2).[16]
Huot then sees the written musical text, straddled by these two ‘crystallized
experiences’ of illuminations, as ‘the link between the two moments of solitary
inspired composition and public performance’.[17]
Figure 1. “How the lover composes a lay about his sentement” followed by lay, Remede de Fortune, B.n. fr. 1586, fol. 26r |
Figure 2. “How the lady has the Lover read the lai he’d composed”, Remede de Fortune, B.n. fr. 1586, fol. 28v.
|
Often thought
of as the foremost form of this period, the lay is referred to by Deschamps as ‘a
long item, difficult to make and invent’.[18]
As a form, the lay is clearly valued by Machaut in that he put his lays at the
beginning of all of his post-C manuscripts and that they are the only items
outside of the Remede which are
illuminated in manuscript C. As a monophonic form and ‘the closest … at this
period to being through-composed’, Elizabeth Eva Leach describes it as ‘the
ideal vehicle for the secretive lover’, writing that
the lay offers
a composer—and a singer—a large canvas on which to develop musical ideas
unencumbered by the shortness and repetition of fixed forms on the one hand or
the distractions of polyphony on the other.[19]
As
illumination 3’s rubric suggests, the lay is an expression of the lover’s sentement of desire, and this is
musically conveyed. For example, in stanza 5 there is an augmented G-C sharp
interval outlined by a line break from the first line of poetry to the next,
setting the text detailing ‘the grief of desire’. The C sharp is only locally
resolved to a D, with the rest of the phrase heading down to A. This contour conveys
the dissatisfaction, even pain, in which a prolonged state of desire leaves the
lover.
The
dissatisfaction of desire is even more explicitly stated in the complaint,
where the lover is shown to be at Fortune’s mercy. Another illumination (5),
taking up nearly half of a page in manuscript C, shows the lover in the act of
composition again, and is accompanied by a depiction of the wheel of Fortune
(figure 3). The musical
setting of the complaint uses just one stanza of music for all 36 stanzas of
poetry, as if each stanza is one rotation of the wheel. This cyclicism is
reflected by text such as ‘he laughs in the morning, who in the evening weeps….
Fortune devours all this when she turns…; she does not rest, but turns, turns
again, and inverts it.’[20]
Figure 3, MS
C, 30v.
|
The complainte
is written in ars antiqua (old style)
notation, with mostly longs and breves. The form of each stanza is binary, with
open and closed endings for each repetition of parts A and B. This rigidity of
this form, in contrast with the lay’s relative through-composition, could reflect
the narrator’s feeling of a lack of autonomy in his subjection to lady Fortune’s
blind (literally: in the illumination she is blindfolded) rotation. Leach
writes that ‘the complaint seems intended to be ridiculous’ and ‘deliberately
tedious’, but that a more ‘ethically focused artistic culture’ of the Middle
Ages would have valued this for its didacticism, especially within the Remede’s larger form.[21]
In response to
the complaint, Hope, personified as an allegorical woman, shows the lover how
to ‘develop a poetic discourse that will foster cheerful and optimistic
sentiments and a serene disposition’.[22]
These are noble courtly values emphasised in the Prologue by the
didactic/lyrical dichotomy: ‘she forbade me to speak frivolously; she ordered
me to speak measuredly’.[23]
This is written in terms of the lover’s lady as ‘a mirror and exemplar for
desiring and doing all that is good’ and teaching ‘as the master teaches the
child’.[24]
However, it is Hope who carries out this didacticism in the Remede proper, and this consequently
raises questions of whether Hope could be seen to be an allegorical embodiment
of the lady, or perhaps this constitutes a general elevation of noble women;
Huot points out that in the fourteenth century, Hope could be represented by
either gender. The chanson royale and baladelle could consequently be heard as
a feminine voice of reason and consolation—not quite of philosophy as in the
Boeotian model—but of Hope. That the lover must memorise Hope’s song and
reproduce it, ascribes her this sovereignty.
The
culminating virelais, the narrator’s first effort of reintegration into court
after leaving the garden is a dance: “My lady, to you without reservation I
give my heart, thought, desire, body, and love”. The illumination shows the
lover joining hands in proper decorum with his lady, who in all previous
illuminations has been cut off from him by some form of physical barrier. The
virelay is an explicitly social dance form, and acts here as a temporal vehicle
and ‘sonic souvenir’ which hints at
the hope of a future of merci.[25]
The song’s monophonicism reflects this content, social camaraderie of men and
women physically joining hands in dance. The virelais therefore an enactment and
expression of a sustained condition of Hope, elevated above teleological Desire
as a satisfactory end in itself, learned through didacticism, expressed through
Natural sentement, and preserved in
time on parchment.
Figure 4; MS C, fol. 51r. |
Bibliography
Earp,
Lawrence. Guillaume de Machaut: A Guide
to Research, (Taylor & Francis, 1995).
Huot, Sylvia. From Song to Book: The Poetics of Writing in
Old French Lyric and Lyrical Narrative Poetry, (Cornell University Press,
1987).
Leach,
Elizabeth Eva. Guillaume de Machaut:
Secretary, Poet, Musician, (Cornell University Press, 2011).
Machaut,
Guillaume de. Le Jugement du roy de
Behaigne and Remede de Fortune, James I. Wimsatt and William W. Kibler eds.
(University of Georgia Press, 1988).
[1]
Wimsatt et al 1988, 32.
[2] Earp 1995, 76.
[3] Huot
1987, 249
[4] Ibid.
[5]
Wimsatt et al 1988, 36.
[6] Leach 2011, 140.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Huot
1987, 250.
[10]
Ibid, 251.
[11]
Ibid, 252.
[12] Machaut: Wimsatt et al 1988, 168.
[13] Ibid.
[14] Huot
1987, 251.
[15]
Ibid: Wimsatt et al 1988, 206.
[16]
Ibid.
[17] Huot
1987, 251.
[18]
Leach 2011, 141; “Une chose langue et malaisiee a faire et trouver”; see
Deborah M. Sinnreich-Levi, ed., Eutache
Deschamps’ L’Art de dictier (East Lansing, 1994), 94, ll. 570-71. Cited in
ibid.
[19]
Ibid, 143.
[20]
Wimsatt et al 1988, 218.
[21]
Leach 2011, 229.
[22] Huot
1987, 170.
[23]
Wimsatt et al 1988, 180.
[24] Ibid
176; ibid 178.
[25]
Leach 2011, 164.
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