Never mind the bollocks, here’s Rabelais

Never mind the bollocks, here’s Rabelais

Friar John and Panurge give the blason and contreblason du couillon by Rabelais

As I noted in a previous post[1] on satirical pornography or pornographic satire, Rabelais‘s masterpiece Gargantua and Pantagruel is more emetic than erotic.

There is however a strain of eroticism to be found in Rabelais, a strain of the bawdy, ribald and burlesque variety, which dates back at its earliest to the Ancient Greek Milesian tale.

The Milesian tales are the earliest instances of erotic literature in the Western world. They directly influenced Apuleius‘ The Golden Ass, Petronius‘ Satyricon in antiquity. They were mentioned in Traitté de l’origine des romans. Aristidean saucy and disreputable heroes and spicy, fast-paced anecdote resurfaced in the medieval fabliaux. Chaucer‘s The Miller’s Tale is in Aristides’ tradition, as are some of the saltier tales in Boccaccio‘s Decameron or the Heptameron of Marguerite of Navarre and the later genre of the picaresque novel.

Googling for “buttocks” in Gargantua and Pantagruel five-book series. I came across the tale of Han Carvel’s ring and the blazon and counterblazon of the bollocks in the Third Book. I first mentioned the poetic genre blason here when I posted the Blazon of the Ugly Tit[2] (1535) by Clément Marot.

Rabelais‘s blason and contreblason du couillon (Eng blason and counterblason of the bollock(s)) respectively sing the praise and disparagement of the male testicles. First, there is Panurge‘s blason in “How Panurge consulteth with Friar John of the Funnels“, then Frère Jean‘s contreblason in “How Friar John comforteth Panurge in the doubtful matter of cuckoldry“.

These rhapsodic lists and enumerations of adjectives are extremely poetic juxtapositions and show how the novel, which was a genre in its nascent state was allowed a maximum of formal and content-wise liberties. In this sense, 16th century literature is quite amazing.

The c. is short for couillons (bollocks).

Panurge‘s praise of the bollocks (275 adjectives):

Mellow C. Varnished C. Resolute C.

Lead-coloured C. Renowned C. Cabbage-like C.

Knurled C. Matted C. Courteous C.

Suborned C. Genitive C. Fertile C.

Desired C. Gigantal C. Whizzing C.

Stuffed C. Oval C. Neat C.

Speckled C. Claustral C. Common C.

Finely metalled C. Virile C. Brisk C.

Arabian-like C. Stayed C. Quick C.

Trussed-up Greyhound-like C. Massive C. Bearlike C.

Manual C. Partitional C.

Mounted C. Absolute C. Patronymic C.

Sleeked C. Well-set C. Cockney C.

Diapered C. Gemel C. Auromercuriated C.

Spotted C. Turkish C. Robust C.

Master C. Burning C. Appetizing C.

Seeded C. Thwacking C. Succourable C.

Lusty C. Urgent C. Redoubtable C.

Jupped C. Handsome C. Affable C.

Milked C. Prompt C. Memorable C.

Calfeted C. Fortunate C. Palpable C.

Raised C. Boxwood C. Barbable C.

Odd C. Latten C. Tragical C.

Steeled C. Unbridled C. Transpontine C.

Stale C. Hooked C. Digestive C.

full blason here

Frère Jean‘s disparagement of the bollocks (440 adjectives):

Faded C. Louting C. Appellant C.

Mouldy C. Discouraged C. Swagging C.

Musty C. Surfeited C. Withered C.

Paltry C. Peevish C. Broken-reined C.

Senseless C. Translated C. Defective C.

Foundered C. Forlorn C. Crestfallen C.

Distempered C. Unsavoury C. Felled C.

Bewrayed C. Worm-eaten C. Fleeted C.

Inveigled C. Overtoiled C. Cloyed C.

Dangling C. Miserable C. Squeezed C.

Stupid C. Steeped C. Resty C.

Seedless C. Kneaded-with-cold- Pounded C.

Soaked C. water C. Loose C.

Coldish C. Hacked C. Fruitless C.

Pickled C. Flaggy C. Riven C.

Churned C. Scrubby C. Pursy C.

Filliped C. Drained C. Fusty C.

Singlefied C. Haled C. Jadish C.

Begrimed C. Lolling C. Fistulous C.

Wrinkled C. Drenched C. Languishing C.

Fainted C. Burst C. Maleficiated C.

Extenuated C. Stirred up C. Hectic C.

Grim C. Mitred C. Worn out C.

Wasted C. Peddlingly furnished Ill-favoured C.

Inflamed C. C. Duncified C.

full counterblason here

As I noted in a previous post[1] on satirical pornography or pornographic satire, Rabelais‘s masterpiece Gargantua and Pantagruel is more emetic than erotic.

There is however a strain of eroticism to be found in Rabelais, a strain of the bawdy, ribald and burlesque variety, which dates back at its earliest to the Ancient Greek Milesian tale.

The Milesian tales are the earliest instances of erotic literature in the Western world. They directly influenced Apuleius‘ The Golden Ass, Petronius‘ Satyricon in antiquity. They were mentioned in Traitté de l’origine des romans. Aristidean saucy and disreputable heroes and spicy, fast-paced anecdote resurfaced in the medieval fabliaux. Chaucer‘s The Miller’s Tale is in Aristides’ tradition, as are some of the saltier tales in Boccaccio‘s Decameron or the Heptameron of Marguerite of Navarre and the later genre of the picaresque novel.

Googling for “buttocks” in Gargantua and Pantagruel five-book series. I came across the tale of Han Carvel’s ring and the blazon and counterblazon of the bollocks in the Third Book. I first mentioned the poetic genre blason here when I posted the Blazon of the Ugly Tit[2] (1535) by Clément Marot.

Rabelais‘s Blason and contreblason du couillons (Eng blason and counterblason of the bollock) are two blasons which are featured in the Third Book of Gargantua and Pantagruel. First, there is Panurge‘s blason in “How Panurge consulteth with Friar John of the Funnels“, then Frère Jean‘s contreblason in “How Friar John comforteth Panurge in the doubtful matter of cuckoldry“.

These rhapsodic lists and enumerations of adjectives are extremely poetic juxtapositions and show how the novel, which was a genre in its nascent state was allowed a maximum of formal and essential liberties. In this sense, 16th century literature is quite amazing.

Panurge‘s praise of the bollocks (275 adjectives)::

Mellow C. Varnished C. Resolute C.

Lead-coloured C. Renowned C. Cabbage-like C.

Knurled C. Matted C. Courteous C.

Suborned C. Genitive C. Fertile C.

Desired C. Gigantal C. Whizzing C.

Stuffed C. Oval C. Neat C.

Speckled C. Claustral C. Common C.

Finely metalled C. Virile C. Brisk C.

Arabian-like C. Stayed C. Quick C.

Trussed-up Greyhound-like C. Massive C. Bearlike C.

Manual C. Partitional C.

Mounted C. Absolute C. Patronymic C.

Sleeked C. Well-set C. Cockney C.

Diapered C. Gemel C. Auromercuriated C.

Spotted C. Turkish C. Robust C.

Master C. Burning C. Appetizing C.

Seeded C. Thwacking C. Succourable C.

Lusty C. Urgent C. Redoubtable C.

Jupped C. Handsome C. Affable C.

Milked C. Prompt C. Memorable C.

Calfeted C. Fortunate C. Palpable C.

Raised C. Boxwood C. Barbable C.

Odd C. Latten C. Tragical C.

Steeled C. Unbridled C. Transpontine C.

Stale C. Hooked C. Digestive C.

full blason here

Frère Jean‘s disparagement of the bollocks (440 adjectives):

Faded C. Louting C. Appellant C.

Mouldy C. Discouraged C. Swagging C.

Musty C. Surfeited C. Withered C.

Paltry C. Peevish C. Broken-reined C.

Senseless C. Translated C. Defective C.

Foundered C. Forlorn C. Crestfallen C.

Distempered C. Unsavoury C. Felled C.

Bewrayed C. Worm-eaten C. Fleeted C.

Inveigled C. Overtoiled C. Cloyed C.

Dangling C. Miserable C. Squeezed C.

Stupid C. Steeped C. Resty C.

Seedless C. Kneaded-with-cold- Pounded C.

Soaked C. water C. Loose C.

Coldish C. Hacked C. Fruitless C.

Pickled C. Flaggy C. Riven C.

Churned C. Scrubby C. Pursy C.

Filliped C. Drained C. Fusty C.

Singlefied C. Haled C. Jadish C.

Begrimed C. Lolling C. Fistulous C.

Wrinkled C. Drenched C. Languishing C.

Fainted C. Burst C. Maleficiated C.

Extenuated C. Stirred up C. Hectic C.

Grim C. Mitred C. Worn out C.

Wasted C. Peddlingly furnished Ill-favoured C.

Inflamed C. C. Duncified C.

full counterblason here

What the Butler Saw

I have received questions about the signification of What the Butler Saw in my post on the Düsseldorf erotic art exposition [1].

I’ve introduced two fictional characters on this blog. One has been rather active, Sholem Stein[2], another, Waloli has only done three posts[3]. The butler may be third character (although the only character I now feel comfortable with – in terms of what kind of message he can bring – is Sholem Stein.

But I sometimes feel it’s easier to express things in the third person, like Facebook invites you to do in their status updates.

The butler is the voyeur, the ultimate peeping tom, the man who sees everything but whose duty it is to remain silent. Silence is golden, remember?

As for the encylopedic stuff:

What the Butler Saw first referred to an early mutoscope softcore series of erotic films.

Mutoscopes were a popular feature of amusement arcades and pleasure piers from the 1890s until the mid-20th century. The typical arcade installation included multiple machines offering a mixture of fare. Both in the early days and during the revival, that mixture usually included “girlie” reels which ran the gamut from risqué to outright soft-core pornography. It was, however, common for these reels to have suggestive titles that implied more than the reel actually delivered. The title of one such reel, What the Butler Saw, became a byword, and Mutoscopes are commonly known in England as “What-the-Butler-Saw machines.” (What the butler saw, presumably through a keyhole, was a woman partially disrobing.)

English playwright Joe Orton appropriated the title What the Butler Saw to make a theatrical farce of the same name, first staged in London on 5 March 1969. Cinema-goers recognised situations used by Orton’s contemporaries, the Carry On comedians of the late 1960s. For example, Carry On Doctor was showing whilst the play was being written in 1967.

An early 1970s reference is the title of the film What the Swedish Butler Saw, also known as Champagnegalopp, a Swedish film from 1975 directed by Vernon P. Becker. The story is based on the Victorian anonymous novel The Way of a Man with a Maid. This sex comedy, in English known as What the Swedish Butler Saw or Confessions of a Swedish Butler, the film starred Ole Søltoft and Diana Dors.

As of the 2000s, the expression What the Butler Saw has functioned as a byword for voyeurism in general, much like peeping tom before it.

A lovely surprise. I am spinning at a party, so it seems. Dear me.

Sylvester and set theory

Do Ya Wanna Funk (1982) Sylvester [Amazon.com] [FR] [DE] [UK]

Gay icon Sylvester James would have turned 60 today if he had not died from AIDS 20 years ago.

“Over and Over[1],” released in 1977 on Fantasy Records is WMC#75.

From a set-theoretical point of view, the Venn diagram of “Over and Over“intersects via whatlinkshere with the following compilations:

1. François Kevorkian‘s Choice: A Collection of Classics
2. Dave Lee‘s Jumpin’ series
3. Brian Chin‘s Club Classics & House Foundations series
4. Norman Jay‘s Good Times series

–Sholem Stein, musicologist, dance music connoisseur and genre theorist

What S. Stein means in the above quote is that “Over and Over” is featured on the mentioned albums.

Sylvester was firmly planted in the American disco scene but was popular too in Europe at the time and the rest of the jet set world.

His best-known songs are the Hi-NRG classics “You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)“[2] (a previous WMC) and “Do You Wanna Funk,” songs of simultaneously gay liberation in the United States and Saint-Tropez chic in Europe.

“Do You Wanna Funk“[3] is World Music Classic #76.

Genre scenes, trompe-l’œils and occasional dashes of eroticism

Via Suzanna of Wurzeltod[1] comes the work of French painter Léopold Boilly, whose work ranges from genre scenes to trompe-l’œils and occasional dashes of eroticism.

Before production of the Sade biopic Quills[2] began, costume designer Jacqueline West gave Kate Winslet a copy of Boilly’s “Woman Ironing”[3] to give her a feel for the character, which Winslet said greatly influenced her performance.

[Youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYaiyvJJcWw&]

YouTube mashup of Quills (set to Nine Inch Nails “Closer“)

The sadly defunct arts blog Lemateurdart has one more Boilly [5] and Jahsonic previously on Quills[6][7].

Quills is WCC #59. Toilette intime[4] is IoEA #33.

Principles of an aesthetics of death

Principes d’une esthétique de la mort by Michel Guiomar

And just when you think you’ve seen everything, a book manages to come out of nowhere and amaze you. Today, at the Antwerp book store Demian, I bought Principes d’une esthétique de la mort, les modes de présences, les présences immédiates, le seuil de l’Au-delà, a book essay by French writer Michel Guiomar, published in 1967 by French cult publisher José Corti. The book has not been translated to English, a possible translation of the title is Principles of an aesthetics of death. The book extensively references jahsonic favourite Gaston Bachelard.

Mad love

On double coding, guilty pleasures and Roland Kaiser‘s “Santa Maria.”^YouTube

Guilty pleasures is about liking things you shouldn’t be linking, musical composition Roland Kaiser‘s “Santa Maria.”^YouTube for example. You shouldn’t like “Santa Maria” because it is in “poor taste”.

Another example of guilty pleasure would be a man who watches television shows marketed towards women such as Sex and the City. This is considered a guilty pleasure because it violates most western ideas what society views as masculine. For this reason the man in question may watch this show in secret because other members of the society may react negatively to a man watching a feminine television show.

The postmodern age is gentle towards guilty pleasures.

Double coding

Yet, I don’t agree with Umberto Eco when he says that in a postmodern world you can no longer say: “I love you madly”.

It’s is too Barbara Cartland-ish, say Eco. I don’t agree. Long live mad love. Although I don’t agree, Eco formulated his point beautifully, in a way that captures the voice of compatriot Alberto Moravia. Here is the quote:

“I think of the postmodern attitude as that of a man who loves a very cultivated woman and knows that he cannot say to her “I love you madly”, because he knows that she knows (and that she knows he knows) that these words have already been written by Barbara Cartland. Still there is a solution. He can say “As Barbara Cartland would put it, I love you madly”. At this point, having avoided false innocence, having said clearly it is no longer possible to talk innocently, he will nevertheless say what he wanted to say to the woman: that he loves her in an age of lost innocence.” –Umberto Eco

Nobrow manifestos, #1

Playboy magazine, December 1969 in which Cross the Border — Close the Gap was first published.

Cross the Border — Close the Gap (1969) is a nobrow treatise on postmodern tendencies in literature by American literary critic Leslie Fiedler.

Cross the border, close the gap! was tellingly first published in Playboy magazine in December 1969 (rather than in a literary magazine), and republished as a separate volume in 1972. The treatise coincides with a trend in which literary critics such as Leslie Fiedler and Susan Sontag started questioning and assessing the notion of the perceived gap between “high art” (or “serious literature“) and “popular art” (in America often referred to as “pulp fiction“), in order to describe the new literature by authors such as John Barth, Leonard Cohen , and Norman Mailer; and at the same time re-assess maligned genres such as science fiction, the western, erotic literature and all the other subgenres that previously had not been considered as “high art”, and their inclusion in the literary canon:

The notion of one art for the ‘cultural,’ i.e., the favored few in any given society and of another subart for the ‘uncultured,’ i.e., an excluded majority as deficient in Gutenberg skills as they are untutored in ‘taste,’ in fact represents the last survival in mass industrial societies (capitalist, socialist, communist — it makes no difference in this regard) of an invidious distinction proper only to a class-structured community. Precisely because it carries on, as it has carried on ever since the middle of the eighteenth century, a war against that anachronistic survival, Pop Art is, whatever its overt politics, subversive: a threat to all hierarchies insofar as it is hostile to order and ordering in its own realm. What the final intrusion of Pop into the citadels of High Art provides, therefore, for the critic is the exhilarating new possibility of making judgments about the ‘goodness’ and ‘badness’ of art quite separated from distinctions between ‘high’ and ‘low’ with their concealed class bias.

In other words, it was now up to the literary critics to devise criteria with which they would then be able to assess any new literature along the lines of “good” or “bad” rather than “high” versus “popular”.

Accordingly,

• A conventionally written and dull novel about, say, a “fallen woman” could be ranked lower than a terrifying vision of the future full of action and suspense.
• A story about industrial relations in the United Kingdom in the early 20th century — a novel about shocking working conditions, trade unionists, strikers and scabs — need not be more acceptable subject-matter per se than a well-crafted and fast-paced thriller about modern life.

But, according to Fiedler, it was also up to the critics to reassess already existing literature. In the case of U.S. crime fiction, writers that so far had been regarded as the authors of nothing but “pulp fiction” — Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett, James M. Cain, and others — were gradually seen in a new light. Today, Chandler’s creation, private eye Philip Marlowe — who appears, for example, in his novels The Big Sleep (1939) and Farewell, My Lovely (1940) — has achieved cult status and has also been made the topic of literary seminars at universities round the world, whereas on first publication Chandler’s novels were seen as little more than cheap entertainment for the uneducated masses.

Nonetheless, “murder stories” such as Dostoyevsky‘s Crime and Punishment or Shakespeare‘s Macbeth are not dependent on their honorary membership in this genre for their acclaim.

P.S. This article is based on freely available Wikipedia code remixed by myself for the Art and Popular Culture wiki.

Art history revisionism

Grotesque Head (c. 1480-1510) by Leonardo da Vinci,

clearly the inspiration for The Ugly Duchess

The Ugly Duchess (1525-30) by Quentin Matsys

In my previous post I argued for a revisionist approach to art history, favoring discarded art historical movements related to the grotesque and the fantastic. I called for a start of art history with the work of Bosch rather than Da Vinci. I realized when writing it that I sort of short-changed da Vinci since the latter has also made many lesser-known works including several grotesques ^[1] and caricatures^[2]. See the book Leonardo Da Vinci: The Divine and the Grotesque by Martin Clayton.

The reason I short-changed da Vinci is that he is much better known for “mainstream” works such as the Mona Lisa and Vitruvian Man. While researching da Vinci’s relation to the grotesque I came up with Grotesque Head, a powerful caricature which is clearly the inspiration for Quentin Matsys‘s The Ugly Duchess. Enjoy.

Synchronicity and Drs. P

Synchronicity and Drs. P

[Youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pahJyN79O6s&]

De veerpont (‘Heen en weer…’), one of the better-known songs of Drs. P.

We zijn hier aan de oever van een machtige rivier
De andere oever is daarginds, en deze hier is hier
De oever waar we niet zijn noemen wij de overkant
Die wordt dan deze kant zodra we daar zijn aangeland
En dit heet dan de overkant, onthoudt u dat dus goed
Want dit is van belang als u oversteken moet
Dat zou nog best eens kunnen, want er is hier veel verkeer
En daarom vaar ik steeds maar vice versa heen en weer

English rough translation, see untranslatability

We are here at the shore of a mighty river
The other shore is over there, and this one is over here
The shore where we are not is called the other side
Which will become this side as soon as we land there
And this then we call the other side, please remember well
This is important if you want to cross
And that is very possible, there’s lots of traffic here
And that is why I cross the river vice versa “to and fro”

When I was 23, I spent six months with my then-wife in Shanghai at Fudan University. Among the numerous great things that happened when I was there was meeting André.

André was one of a kind and we hit it off immediately. He had I believe only just finished high school and was 18 or 19 at the time. He was smart and creative, had theories on dancing (“when I dance, it’s all in the face”) and one on synchronicity which has stayed with me all this time. He was convinced that there was a Chinese equivalent to every American actor, and was thus constantly on the look-out for the Chinese Woody Allen.

Whether he found him or not, I don’t know, and – sadly – I also lost track of André. My wife and I were supposed to stay in Shanghai for a year but we left after six months, just before the Tank Man incident. I was young and when André and I parted ways I did not exchange addresses with him, thinking that if I was supposed to meet him again it would surely happen.

You probably ask yourself, what does this have to do with the Youtube clip above by Drs. P? Well, every country has a couple of artists, musicians or writers which are one-of-a-kind (sui generis). Drs. P is one of those people, he is a genius and cannot be compared to anyone within the Dutchophone area of Europe I live in.

However, I am convinced that every country in the world has its Drs. P. There must be one in Spain, New Zealand or the United States. Drs. P.’s sensibilities (word play, absurdism, playful narrativity, humor) must be synchronously present in every country in the world.

The question is for you dear reader, who is your country’s Drs. P. Or who is your country’s Woody Allen?

Eye candy #3

Moord in het Nudistenkamp (Eng: Murder at the Nudist Camp)

Honey West is a fictional character created by Gloria and Forest Fickling under the pseudonym “G.G. Fickling” and appearing in numerous mystery novels by the duo.

The character is notable as being one of the first female private detectives in popular fiction. She first appeared in the 1957 book This Girl for Hire and would appear in 10 novels before being retired in 1971. The character was also the basis for the short-lived TV series Honey West in the 1960s.

More Honey West here, from a fine collection of Dutch translations of detective novels. Probably the paratext (in this case the cover illustration) is better than the text itself.

Previously on Eye Candy.