quietprofanity (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
quietprofanity) wrote2008-09-06 10:19 pm
quietprofanity) wrote2008-09-06 10:19 pm
Pride in my past accomplishments ...
So, I took this undergrad Chaucer class in Spring 2004 because that was my idea of fun back then. Chaucer was basically The Canterbury Tales and we didn't even finish them but whatever. It was unique in that 1.) the teacher insisted we read pure Middle English. This was a pain in the ass at the time, but now whenever I see Modern English translations I'm like, "But ... but this is for BABIES!" 2.) I was sort of the "token Jew" in the class, and the teacher would encourage me to kind of give the Jewish perspective on stuff.
At the end of the class, we had a big party where we were encouraged to cook Medieval food and stuff. Since I lived in a dorm at that time, I offered to just bring cups, BUT the teacher said she would also like us to do readings. And even though I wasn't writing for pleasure very much, at the 11th hour (either the day before or the day of the party, I can't really remember) the idea for a re-telling of "The Prioress' Tale" a.k.a. "The One with the Anti-Semitism" struck me and I wrote this thing called "The Banker's Prologue and Tale." With the exception of a few couplets, I didn't bother to make it rhyme, but I tried to keep the general structure and how the Tales "sounded" in my head.
You may think differently, but ... I don't know, I really like this one.
The Banker’s Prologue
Ages past, in Florence, there lived a BANKER
About forty years old but still quite strong.
He lived in prosperity, had a charming wife
And two dear sons whom he taught them well.
In synagogue he was much beloved
Tzedakah he gave, as was his duty.
He always smiled upon any child,
Who passed his way, and to his fellows,
A kinder man was never to be known.
In business there was never another man
Who could ever earn as much as he could.
And to his customers he charged large fees
But of course, only for the best of service
After all, he never lost a cent,
And if one were to check, one never could
He’d be gone like a fox in a hole,
And they could never find him anymore.
Time passed on and when his sons
Had turned thirteen, he spoke to them
And said, “My sons, my dearest boys
Soon you will be men and read before
The rabbi and all of our friends.
How hard you’ve worked, and yet I
Have a tale for you before you go.
Heed my words, sons, and remember
This, for it is true, I know too well.”
The Banker’s Tale
There was in Asia, a worthy man
As righteous as the prophets told
Clever as Joseph, strong as Samson
As wise as Solomon despite his age
And handsome as Absalom, so very good
He helped every human as he could
And never spoke a bad word of any man.
For this man Adam loved the Lord.
And then one day, on a walk through
The city, in the early months of May
Adam spied a maid, of yet fourteen
Her was skin as white as lily-flower
Her lips like a rose and eyes of glass
Upon her head she wore a scarf of red.
So taken was he that he grasped his heart.
He ran to her and cried, “Dear maiden!
If I were to live a million years, I
Could never, ever hope to see
One so fair, and one so lovely
As the Lord had made since Eve.”
But this maiden, named Lilith,
Was never one, to take any flattery
And spoke not a word, but turned away.
Yet Adam was not to be denied
Day after day he pursued his maiden,
Writing poems and letters full of love,
Until at last Lilith came to him.
In May they were married, then night fell
She took off her sash and around her head
Tumbled waves of hair as black as night
And that evening they spent in much delight.
Morning came and Lilith left into their yard
Into a garden, where it so happened,
A Christian man then spied her there.
He licked his lips and took her fast.
For years since, this poor maid Lilith
Was never found, and Adam wept
His studies he forgot, and his strength too
He became so thin, he never slept.
Oh this poor Job! As the years passed,
Adam grew much in rage and hate,
He failed his studies, he forgot so much,
That eating roast pig and his yarmulke
Became too much for him to care for
And yet even still he praised His name.
Until one day in the autumn afternoon
A little Christian boy walked through
His voice as high and sweet as a dove’s
He sang as he walked in the Roman tongue
Adam came to his door, and stopped in horror
“The boy’s eyes!” he thought - just like his wife’s
Suddenly he knew what had been done.
“My Lilith! My dearest maid! Not even a day!
Oh wretched fate! She left me for another!”
And oh the hate, in his heart grew so strong
That Satan sang in his ear a song
And Adam knew just what should be done.
He cursed our Lord and hired a man
Who killed this boy as he walked home
Singing as he had always done.
Oh horrible grief that makes us fools!
And soon Adam’s plot had been found
He brought to the city, about to be hung
But then, he heard a voice cry out so strong,
“Let me through! Let me through!
I must see this horrid man who would do
Such horrible, terrible things to my son.”
And Adam saw Lilith in the midst of the crowd,
Her midnight hair out for all to see.
“My husband!” she cried. “Oh God in Heaven!”
But it was too late, the rope was cut.
And this wretched Adam was no more.
Oh poor Lilith, if she had only known.
The man who stole her had once told
This poor maiden that Adam was dead
And after their night that no one else
Would ever wed a spoiled Jewess such as she.
So she converted and had lived as happily
As she could with her beloved son.
But they are no more. Oh poor Lilith!
Lost two husbands and also a son.
And now the moral of the tale.
My sons, no matter what ever happens
Remember this, and remember well
Your faith keep, the commandments heed
And never, ever do a wicked deed.
For our people are poor, as you well know
And those who seek to do God’s justice
Are but piteous fools, for remember well
‘Justice is lost when your enemy makes the rules.’
So live well my sons, and never be wicked
Remember the Lord, and do not close your eyes
Hear O Israel, our Lord is our God. Amen.”
Oh and, yes, despite the "We're taking back our oppression!" flavor of it, the banker isn't a fully reliable narrator. I was trying to keep with the characterization of the tales, too. :)
At the end of the class, we had a big party where we were encouraged to cook Medieval food and stuff. Since I lived in a dorm at that time, I offered to just bring cups, BUT the teacher said she would also like us to do readings. And even though I wasn't writing for pleasure very much, at the 11th hour (either the day before or the day of the party, I can't really remember) the idea for a re-telling of "The Prioress' Tale" a.k.a. "The One with the Anti-Semitism" struck me and I wrote this thing called "The Banker's Prologue and Tale." With the exception of a few couplets, I didn't bother to make it rhyme, but I tried to keep the general structure and how the Tales "sounded" in my head.
You may think differently, but ... I don't know, I really like this one.
The Banker’s Prologue
Ages past, in Florence, there lived a BANKER
About forty years old but still quite strong.
He lived in prosperity, had a charming wife
And two dear sons whom he taught them well.
In synagogue he was much beloved
Tzedakah he gave, as was his duty.
He always smiled upon any child,
Who passed his way, and to his fellows,
A kinder man was never to be known.
In business there was never another man
Who could ever earn as much as he could.
And to his customers he charged large fees
But of course, only for the best of service
After all, he never lost a cent,
And if one were to check, one never could
He’d be gone like a fox in a hole,
And they could never find him anymore.
Time passed on and when his sons
Had turned thirteen, he spoke to them
And said, “My sons, my dearest boys
Soon you will be men and read before
The rabbi and all of our friends.
How hard you’ve worked, and yet I
Have a tale for you before you go.
Heed my words, sons, and remember
This, for it is true, I know too well.”
The Banker’s Tale
There was in Asia, a worthy man
As righteous as the prophets told
Clever as Joseph, strong as Samson
As wise as Solomon despite his age
And handsome as Absalom, so very good
He helped every human as he could
And never spoke a bad word of any man.
For this man Adam loved the Lord.
And then one day, on a walk through
The city, in the early months of May
Adam spied a maid, of yet fourteen
Her was skin as white as lily-flower
Her lips like a rose and eyes of glass
Upon her head she wore a scarf of red.
So taken was he that he grasped his heart.
He ran to her and cried, “Dear maiden!
If I were to live a million years, I
Could never, ever hope to see
One so fair, and one so lovely
As the Lord had made since Eve.”
But this maiden, named Lilith,
Was never one, to take any flattery
And spoke not a word, but turned away.
Yet Adam was not to be denied
Day after day he pursued his maiden,
Writing poems and letters full of love,
Until at last Lilith came to him.
In May they were married, then night fell
She took off her sash and around her head
Tumbled waves of hair as black as night
And that evening they spent in much delight.
Morning came and Lilith left into their yard
Into a garden, where it so happened,
A Christian man then spied her there.
He licked his lips and took her fast.
For years since, this poor maid Lilith
Was never found, and Adam wept
His studies he forgot, and his strength too
He became so thin, he never slept.
Oh this poor Job! As the years passed,
Adam grew much in rage and hate,
He failed his studies, he forgot so much,
That eating roast pig and his yarmulke
Became too much for him to care for
And yet even still he praised His name.
Until one day in the autumn afternoon
A little Christian boy walked through
His voice as high and sweet as a dove’s
He sang as he walked in the Roman tongue
Adam came to his door, and stopped in horror
“The boy’s eyes!” he thought - just like his wife’s
Suddenly he knew what had been done.
“My Lilith! My dearest maid! Not even a day!
Oh wretched fate! She left me for another!”
And oh the hate, in his heart grew so strong
That Satan sang in his ear a song
And Adam knew just what should be done.
He cursed our Lord and hired a man
Who killed this boy as he walked home
Singing as he had always done.
Oh horrible grief that makes us fools!
And soon Adam’s plot had been found
He brought to the city, about to be hung
But then, he heard a voice cry out so strong,
“Let me through! Let me through!
I must see this horrid man who would do
Such horrible, terrible things to my son.”
And Adam saw Lilith in the midst of the crowd,
Her midnight hair out for all to see.
“My husband!” she cried. “Oh God in Heaven!”
But it was too late, the rope was cut.
And this wretched Adam was no more.
Oh poor Lilith, if she had only known.
The man who stole her had once told
This poor maiden that Adam was dead
And after their night that no one else
Would ever wed a spoiled Jewess such as she.
So she converted and had lived as happily
As she could with her beloved son.
But they are no more. Oh poor Lilith!
Lost two husbands and also a son.
And now the moral of the tale.
My sons, no matter what ever happens
Remember this, and remember well
Your faith keep, the commandments heed
And never, ever do a wicked deed.
For our people are poor, as you well know
And those who seek to do God’s justice
Are but piteous fools, for remember well
‘Justice is lost when your enemy makes the rules.’
So live well my sons, and never be wicked
Remember the Lord, and do not close your eyes
Hear O Israel, our Lord is our God. Amen.”
Oh and, yes, despite the "We're taking back our oppression!" flavor of it, the banker isn't a fully reliable narrator. I was trying to keep with the characterization of the tales, too. :)