Troubadours, the Curtainfic version ...

Guillaume and Françoise, a troubadour and troubaritz who have been recently married, exchange flamboyant verses while arguing over household chores.

Guillaume
After many a verse I croon at court,
I long for my loving lady’s support,
On the way to our chamber, I am flush with glee,
For her sweet embrace to welcome me.

Françoise
Before our betrothal, when my friend would clamor
And sing to me, I became enamored
But after a year in the marriage bed,
The magic is lost, my feelings are dead.

Guillaume
Hearken, wife! I have missed you so,
More than angels or prophets or kings could know
What have you prepared for us this night,
To dine on and drink to our hearts’ delight?

Françoise
Is this, Guillaume, a proper greeting,
To ask me at first what it is we are eating?
A lady of my stature deserves respect,
Asking me of my day, you always neglect.

Guillaume
Ladies are awful and all the same,
They torture me with their constant blame.
This one of mine is hardly able
To put a decent meal on the table.
I suspected that marriage might dampen my passion,
Public consummation of love is quite out of fashion,
But like the nightingale who finds new trees to nest,
I thought I would give Godly union a test.

Françoise
And what of your care for this chamber, my spouse?
You are not so clean as a plague-ridden mouse.
Your vestments are scattered all over, admit
Your braies on the chaise, all stained with your shit?
I once had a life as a singer in court,
Where I would pursue men steadfastly for sport.
And now I am here, scrubbing your garments,
You ungrateful, vulgar, detestable varmint.
Guillaume
At court, there is a lady I shall not name
Who all the day I flatter in vain
The secret exchanges we share mean little,
Since the day I, to you, made my committal.
Her beauty unlike any other I’ve seen
Her lovely eyes, a brilliant green.
Would I were with her, it is fairly plain
She would treasure me, not like you who complain

Françoise
How dare you continue to whisper with ladies?
My rotten husband, you will wind up in Hades.
Meanwhile I’m stuck here with nothing to do
But read and clean and wait on you.
You don’t think I still wish to sing to valorous men?
And capture their fancy with the stroke of a pen?
My songs have always been better than yours
You spew half-baked rhymes to undignified whores.

Guillaume
Why don’t we retire to our bed, my fair wife?
Let us rediscover the joys in our life.
I want to embrace you with all of my being,
Our fleshly union will be splendid and freeing.

Françoise
If you think I’ll embrace you this eve, then you’re dreaming,
You’re dreadful and glib and with pride you are teeming.
Have you not yet realized you’re terribly boring?
All you offer in bed is your repulsive snoring.

Guillaume
Alas, my lady, I am completely spent,
I cannot any longer handle this torment.
Let us slumber and put ourselves out of our misery,
For love after marriage disappears to the periphery.

Françoise
For once, Guillaume, we are in agreement,
Our standpoints are clear, and our passions are vehement.
Let us dream of the time when we longed to be together,
When our souls were unburdened, light as a feather.

Crossing Fates: Iwein Meets Lanval

“Oh, stupid man!” the giant slurred, his misshapen, gray face contorting around what was left of his mouth. “What presumption has overcome you, that you are courting death? That’s not bright.” Massive fingers dug into the corners of the paved road, pulling up a slab of rock three times Iwein’s size and hurling it towards him. Iwein narrowly dodged the rock, dashing behind a tree for cover. “Whoever counseled you to do this doesn’t want you to live and—count on it— only wants to exact revenge on you for something you did to him.” The giant taunted, cooing. Iwein could hear the thumping of massive footfalls coming ever closer to the thicket. “And he’s getting a good revenge, because I’ll soon fix things so that you’ll never again do him either evil or good.”

The footfalls stopped. In the tense silence, Iwein began to speak. “Knight what’s the point of these threats? Skip the malicious talk and get down to business, or I’d be more likely to fear a dwarf, for all your huge size—” his invective was cut off, as a massive hand gripped around the tree, turning the strong oak Iwein had hidden behind into little more than a pile of splinters.

Iwein heard a roar, as his lion leapt onto the giant’s back and began to tear at his flesh. He heard, too, the thrum of magic in the air, as the giant cast a spell upon him. With a sound like ripping cloth, Iwein’s world went dark; and he was falling, falling, falling through the darkness. Then, a flash of light, a blur of color, and the crack of impact with hard earth. Iwein slept.

Iwein awoke to sounds he thought he’d never hear again: courtly argument.

“Sir, be of good cheer! For God’s sake, speak to us! Coming toward us are two very elegant and very beautiful women. One is surely your beloved!” Iwein crept through the undergrowth to see what was going on.

“I did not recognize, nor know them. Neither was my lover, who I love dearly.” Who was this, then? Iwein peeked out from beneath the brush to see who was speaking. He saw a man — clearly a knight by his vestments — giving testimony before a richly garbed court. Iwein watched as the women spoke.

“King, do have rooms prepared for us where our lady may be fittingly lodged; she is coming here to speak with you.” The court erupted into movement as squires came to stable their mounts, and the king ordered rooms prepared for the coming guest. Minutes later, Iwein saw a woman of great, perhaps unnatural beauty ride into the court astride a white palfrey. She radiated a kind of unnatural beauty, as if the source of her comeliness came from somewhere beyond the reach of humanity. Iwein’s own staring was interrupted by another shout from the knight on trial: “By my faith, this is my beloved! Now I don’t mind if they kill me, if she does not have pity on me. I am cured, by the very sight of her.”

Something about that declaration of single-minded devotion struck a chord deep within Iwein. He felt a disquiet that he couldn’t quite identify, as if the giant’s stone had become lodged in his stomach. He descended into his own mind, ruminating on his decisions over the past year.

The woman’s voice, clear and sweet as a bell, shook the knight with a lion from his musings. “— may he be exonerated by your barons!” At the lady’s directive, the court erupted into murmurings which grew into a collective roar for the knight’s release. “Let Lanval go free!” declared the king, standing from his position by his sullen wife.

Lanval, his shackles undone, bowed to the assembled men and moved to leave the trial. Iwein knew, in that moment, that he had to speak with the knight, if he was to address this...feeling in his gut.
Lanval was feeling somewhat odd, to put it mildly. To go from a deep depression, fearing that he would never again see his beautiful fairy queen, to riding behind her, his arms wrapped around her midriff and nose buried in her flowing hair, was an emotional turn around of the like he’d never experienced. Now, his queen was leading them to a new life, together. He closed his eyes, pressed his nose against the nape of her neck, and began to relax.

“What ho, fellow knight!” Lanval’s eyes snapped open at the intrusion, immediately alert for any who would bring his new happiness to a sudden and precipitous downfall. There, standing in front of their magnificent steed, was a man in full battle armor, waving his hands to stop their progress.

“I was hoping you might be able to help me out of a strange situation I’ve found myself in.” Ah, the man was a brigand, hoping to make some easy coin. Lanval would show him that coin earned dishonorably came with a steep price. He dismounted, drew his blade, and squared himself with their would-be attacker.

“Good sir, I mean you no harm.” Iwein cautioned, his fingers twitching to draw his own blade. “I found myself in this strange land, and heard your trial. I see that you are an honorable man, with an honorable amor, and...well, I beseech your aid.”

Lanval looked him up and down and, finding the other knight to be virtuous of form and honest in spirit, sheathed his blade. “Then ask what you would, fair knight. My lady and I must make haste, if we are to arrive where we need to be.”

At this, Iwein shook his head ruefully. “Ay, that’s precisely the problem. You see, I know not where I am. I was fighting a giant, he uttered some magical words, and the next thing I knew I was here, in this land. Praytell, have you knowledge of what sort of devil’s craft may have brought me here - and how I may return to my beloved?”

At this, Lanval appeared bewildered. A humble knight of the king’s realm, he had no experience or knowledge of magic. But his lover shifted on the palfrey, and spoke. “Your heart is troubled, knight with the lion.”

Iwein started, turning surprised eyes on the ethereal woman. “How did you—”

The woman raised a hand, forestalling his confusion. “The magical lines which connect our realities are well known to me. It is within my power to return you to your home.” Iwein began to smile, professing his thanks, when she continued. “But I cannot do so when you are as conflicted as this.” Iwein stopped mid-exultation, turning questioning eyes on the woman.

“The magic the giant used to send you here turned your own flaws against you. To return, you must overcome them. This is the illness you feel. Think: when did it start?” Iwein placed a hand over his stomach.

“It began...when Lanval proclaimed his devotion to you, on your arrival.” With furrowed brow, Iwein attempted to dissect the link. “I...I feel a longing for my own lover. Laudine.” The woman nodded sagely.

“That is the first step. Now, think: how have you mistreated her? What is different about your relationship with her, and mine with Lanval?” Iwein again set to thinking, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

“I...I replaced her with a lion?” At the lady’s raised eyebrows and Lanval’s muffled laughter, Iwein hurried on. “I...I disrespected her. I did not value her as highly as I should, and my pride overcame my loyalty. I promised to fight for her maid Lunete, and yet I still accepted the challenge of defeating the giant.” The rock in his stomach began to feel less heavy. “I have to give Laudine the same respect and loyalty as Lanval gives you.”

The woman nodded, her hands beginning to glow brightly. “You are ready now. Go, knight with the lion, and forget not what you have learned here.” With a flash, Iwein was gone. Lanval turned to his lover, who extended a hand to him. He wordlessly took her hand and accepted her assistance as he returned to the saddle. The palfrey began to trot forward again, and shortly after they passed into Avalon, their last task on earth complete.

With a sound like the cracking of thunder, Lanval returned to the battlefield. Quickly taking in the situation he saw that only moments had passed. The giant was currently grappling with the lion, who was taking large chunks of flesh out of his back while only barely dodging the hefty punches thrown in retaliation.

When the giant saw his return, he roared in frustration. “Damned knight, how did you escape my magic?” He lunged for Iwein, who evaded. The giant swung with such ferocity that he bent forward with the blow and almost fell over. Iwein took his chance. He slashed through the giant’s chest—once—twice—before stabbing the massive beast, finally, through the heart. That was all there was to it.

The lion padded up next to Iwein, cleaning its mane. “So,” he said conversationally, “what happened?” Iwein inspected his bloody sword, thinking of what had transpired.

“I learned a great lesson from a knight and his lover. I think it is time that I paid my debts to mine.” with that, Iwein made haste to say goodbye to those he had freed from the giant, so that he could apply his newfound understanding of womanly needs — and, indeed, his responsibilities as a lover — to his life with Laudene.

The Submissive One's Tale

Prologue:

Stating that men are lucky to be married

is a claim made on false pretenses.  

While it may appear that my marriage

to my dearest Alisoun

is one of passion and affection,

that could not be more far from the truth.  

She is always out, always dancing, always drunk,

and always uttering ear screeching noises

as she pretends to be the next Beyoncé.  

She pushes me past the limits of my patience

and leaves me with no other choice

but to go seek out pleasure from other women.  

Alisoun is clearly not in this marriage because of love,

but rather she likes to feel a sense of sovereignty.  

I will not let my ego be walked all over any more.  

She never fails to remind me that I am the fourth husband

of many, implying that I will not be her last.  

Apparently all of the other men

were rich and old or whatever,

and I am constantly walking in their shadow.  

You really can’t blame me for creating a Tinder account

and meeting new women.  

Life is too short to settle for an unpleasant situation,

and so I decided to explore my options.  

It gives me a sense of importance --

I am in total control

of whether I swipe right or left,

whereas one might argue

that Alisoun has complete power over me

(although I refuse to believe this is true).  

Recently, I have been testing the waters

with a new acquaintance named May.  

She is as bright and warm as the month

and gives me a whole new purpose in life.  

I have a newfound duty to go out into the world

and make her happy.  

I try to make my trips to see her quick,

in fear that Alisoun will get suspicious and find out.  

But, after a few months of me sneaking out,

May texted me to say that she couldn’t see me anymore,

for her husband, January, was growing increasingly possessive

and was watching her every move.  

January, like Alisoun, is incredibly domineering,

and so May and I initially bonded

over the fact that we are both submissive to our partners.  

As a result of January’s overprotective actions,

we had to turn to strictly texting,

but soon realized that we could not resist seeing one another.  

And here begins the story that ended our relationship forever:  

Tale:

It was a sunny day on the first of June,

and May and I had decided that today

was going to be the day that we broke free

from our significant others and meet up in secret.  

I shot her a quick text to confirm the location of her office building

and snuck out of my apartment upon her approval of the address.  

As I pulled up in the taxi,

my stomach began to turn in all sorts of contortions

and streams of sweat dripped down the side of my face.  

It had been an entire week since I had last seen May --

her platinum blonde hair,

chocolate brown eyes,

delicate, yet firm hands,

and charming smile.  

The sound of her voice in my head

calmed every last antsy nerve,

and I went up the elevator ready to see my lover.  

I rode the elevator all the way up to the top floor

and found the door to her office.  

I took a thin, sliver key out of my pocket

and slipped the pointy teeth perfectly into the lock.  

The door flung open and there she was,

even more beautiful than I had remembered her to be.

She threw aside her papers,

slammed shut her computer,

and embraced me in the tightest hug I have ever experienced --

I almost thought I was going to suffocate.  

Before I even had the opportunity

to express how much I had longed to see her,

our clothes were off

and we were engaging in the most passionate sex.  

Just as I was kissing her tender lips

and stroking her long locks,

there was a loud pounding on the door.  

Before we could even pull apart from one another,

a large man barged in through the door

screaming about how his iCloud backup just restored

and he could now see her texts with a man named Damian.  

He then realized what was occurring in her office

and, putting two and two together,

realized that the man with whom he was making eye contact

was, in fact, Damian himself.  

I dropped my head with shame

and tried not to look up

as May explained that it was simply a glitch in their Apple ID system --

she had not been talking to this man for that long,

rather this was merely a one time thing.  

And as if the situation couldn’t get any more heated,

Alisoun burst through office to see what was going on.  

She claimed to have been growing suspicious of my distance from her

and tracked me using Find My iPhone.  

Alisoun threatened to make my life even more of a living hell,

and with that remark she grabbed my phone

from off of the desk

and smashed it to the ground,

crushing every last cell signal

and destroying every last text I had ever sent.  

Postcolonial Chaucer Fanfic? Reinterpretation in Patience Agbabi’s Telling Tales

Patience Agbabi’s 2014 poetry collection Telling Tales has a radical mission: to make Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales reflect 21st-century Britain in all its multicultural and many art-formed glory. The General Prologue is turned into a slam poem (watch Agbabi perform it here); the notoriously anti-semitic Prioress’s Tale is now imagined as the rapped lament of a Black man from the London projects. Agbabi’s work asks what it means to refashion a beloved cultural artifact to suit the needs of a new and different audience—exactly what modern-day fandom does with fanfiction. Yet just because a piece of literature reinterprets an earlier text does not mean it is necessarily fanfiction. Is Telling Tales homage or fic? I’d like to consider this issue by looking at the way Agbabi’s retelling of The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale, a short poem called “What Do Women Like Bes’?”, uses Chaucer’s themes of sex, love, and marriage to reflect her project’s goal of turning old stories into new ones.

In “What Do Women Like Bes’?” the Wife of Bath has been recast as a Nigerian businesswoman, who introduces herself as Mrs. Alice Ebi Bafa. Like Chaucer’s Alisoun, she sells cloth, but unlike Alisoun, whose business is really marriage and its economic benefits, Alice is truly out to make a deal. The poem both opens and closes with her offers to sell cloth to the audience (Telling Tales imagines the pilgrims as performers on the southeast England slam-poetry circuit), and where Chaucer would’ve taken the opportunity to make a pun about prostitution, Agbabi pushes the notion that Alice wants her business to be taken seriously. This is not to say that Alice doesn’t enjoy sex (in marriage) as much as Alisoun does— she gleefully tells how her first three husbands “died of exhaustion!” and proudly proclaims that “I am not a feminax,/I do not believe women are equal to men,/women are better./Our chamber of Venus is for both birth and pleasure both” (Agbabi 31-32). This echoes Alisoun’s sentiment that

“I folwed ay myn inclinacioun
By veru of my constellcioun
That made me I koude not withdrawe
My chambre of Venus from a good felawe” (615-619).

There are other moments in Agbabi’s poem that directly call back to Chaucer’s writing: Alisoun’s red stockings, much commented upon in the General Prologue, are now Alice’s red fingernails; Jankyn’s book of “wikkid wyves,” which caused Alisoun so much consternation, is now the law student Aboniki Bafa’s Playboy magazine (685); the tales both women tell are nearly identical. Modern-day fandom values attention to canon (the source material) detail in fanworks, and these nods to canon could make any fan leave a “dkjhdgkdsjfdh THE NAILS!!!” comment had Agbabi’s work been posted to the fanfiction site Archive of Our Own (AO3), instead of being published by Canongate Books.

But detail alone does not a fanwork make. Some of the most excellent, “out there,” fanfictions work despite being so far removed from canon because they manage to follow the same storytelling patterns and incorporate the same themes as the original. One of the first things readers notice about Chaucer’s version is that the tale is actually very short— the prologue, at four times the length, is where the good stuff is, containing as it does innumerable sex jokes, reflections on a woman’s role in marriage, and a wonderful diatribe against male textual authority. The tale itself seems to confound Alisoun’s message of women’s power when the knight ends up married to a beautiful woman after raping another. In contrast, “What Do Women Like Bes’?” splits its time equally between prologue and tale, and acknowledges that the ending is a little weird: “So she married a rapist/But he learnt his lesson” (Agbabi 36). The line break there indicates a hesitation in the narrator’s mind; she’s not quite sure she believes that it’s all okay. It makes Alice’s cheerful restatement of Alisoun’s wish that “Jhesu Christ us sende/Housbondes meeke, young, and fresh abedde” fall a little flat (1258-59). Alice comes off as a bit less anti-male than Alisoun, and for such a joyfully misandrist source text, that interpretive choice feels odd.

By introducing this hesitance into the theme of women’s superiority, Agbabi changes the thrust of the tale’s message, and makes it inconsistent with the canon’s themes, which fanfiction generally avoids. After all, you want the reader to recognize the setting, characters, and themes of the fanwork. Agbabi’s main themes are less readily recognizable as Chaucer’s. She moves the focus away from gendered authority, which is what most people read into The Wife of Bath, and instead introduces ideas about Western hegemony. There’s tension between Nigerian values and Western ones in Agbabi’s poem, reflected in the language Alice uses: although she speaks mainly in a Nigerian English dialect, she uses a very proper grammatical English when she takes on the voice of the knight. Notice also Alice’s assertion about why she doesn’t have children. She explains that “some say I’m a witchcraft/’cause I did not bear dem children./They do not understand the Western medicine” (Agbabi 33). Alice considers herself a cosmopolitan woman of the world, which conflicts with the assumptions about women that exist in Lagos. Agbabi’s poem becomes less about gendered authority and more about colonial authority, but there is little outright critique in the way you’d expect to find had Chaucer known about Edward Said— an intersectional retelling, yes; Chaucerian, no. This decision reflects Agbabi’s multicultural Britain and her own experience as the child of Nigerian immigrants, as her book does overall, but it is not really a fannish way of approaching a source text. Fandom on the whole is feminist and sex-positive, so fanfiction of The Wife of Bath can (and does) have a field day with those themes, but introducing a postcolonial reinterpretation of the text when it’s not even a little bit there in the first place would be looked at askance by other fans.

Lastly, the change in character between Chaucer’s wife and Agbabi’s wife makes “What Do Women Like Bes’?” non-fannish. The outlandish settings of most fanfiction requires a consistency of character to make them readable, and fanwriters are often dragged through the mud for writing “OOC,” or out-of-character fics. However, Agbabi seems to make this mistake. Alice and Alisoun are of the same stock—flirty, fun, fierce—but one is attempting to convince the men she’s speaking to that she doesn’t care about them even as she longs for true love, and the other is firmly secure in her position, ready to sell her cloth (but not herself) to gain the life she wants. Agbabi gives no indication of anything being really wrong in Alice’s life, whereas we get frequent glimpses of Alisoun’s trauma at the hands of men, particularly in regard to Jankyn’s beating her. Where Alisoun is all about love masked as sex, Alice is all about her business masked as sex. She married five husbands simply because her father married four wives— it’s part of her non-"feminax" agenda to be a lady boss, not because she’s looking for true love. Changing what seems to be a fundamental trait of the canon character is not a typically fannish way to approach a retelling.

Ultimately, although Agbabi’s work explicitly takes its inspiration from Chaucer, by playing with the underlying themes and bringing new elements to the character, she changes the story too deeply. “What Do Women Like Bes’?” is a gorgeous homage to Chaucer—as is her whole book—but I hesitate to call it fanfiction. But that’s okay. The whole universe of English literature does not have to be explained by the AO3 tagging system, and I’m content to let Telling Tales escape the niche that modern fandom creates and occupies. It still does important work in helping readers rediscover the Canterbury Tales and broadens the possibilities of what our foundational texts can do for us. In the end, storytelling is mostly retelling anyway. It just doesn’t all have to be posted to AO3.

An video of Patience Agbabi performing an early version (not the version in Telling Tales) of “What Do Women Like Bes’?” can be seen here and her own analysis of that poem can be found here.

Works Cited

Agbabi, Patience. “What Do Women Like Bes’?”. In Telling Tales. Edinburgh: Canongate Books, 2014. Print.

Chaucer, Geoffrey, and Larry D. Benson. "The Wife of Bath's Prologue." In The Riverside Chaucer. Boston, Mass: 3rd Ed., Houghton Mifflin Co, 1987. Print.

The Forum Mediaeval on Divers Matters of Love and Relationships, being a Place for Conversations on Such Topics as may Engender a Better Understanding of the Lady Love and her Art

                                                                       

Posted by fair user Heloise_of_Paris in the hour of terce:

Title: Feeling abandoned by my husband; unsure of the proper path.

To make a long tale brief: my former lawful husband coerced me into abandoning our marriage and entering a monastery. I feel miserable and cast aside, yet he has not reached out to me to offer consolation or words of wisdom. It recently came to my knowledge that he has complained about me and despaired of our situation behind my back to a friend! I cannot believe that he would have the cheek to complain in this way when I have sacrificed all for him and he has repaid me not at all.

The longer form of my tale is that I met this man when he was a guest and teacher in my uncle’s house. Though we began as teacher and pupil, we soon grew closer. After a romance befitting the most scandalous of lovers, I realized I was with child. He assured me that we should be at once married. Because of my deep love for him, I agreed. After the child was born, he told me that for the good of us all the marriage had to remain a secret. Again, I agreed because of our great love. Then he told me I had to secret myself away in a monastery and pretend to be a nun! What more can I say? I really did not desire this at all, but I agreed! Again, how greatly I loved him. Then, my lover suffered a brutal assault, and after that he abandoned me! I wanted to be his greatest champion and never leave his side. What did he want? For me to to devote myself to the monastic way forever. I did not desire that life. But my love for him compelled me. I have been living in this monastic devotion for a number of years, and he has not granted me his presence nor sent a word from his quill. I gave up all for him, and yet he could not bring himself to do his duty as wife and spiritual partner to me. 

But here is the greatest calamity: I heard that he wrote a letter as consolation to a friend that brutally and wrongly portrayed his suffering and my role therein. What gall he has to complain about what he has suffered when I have suffered most! So I immediately wrote him to tell him my mind, which with any luck should reach him soon. In the meanwhile, help, my dear Mediaeval Forum Lords & Ladies! How can we two come to a better understanding about my mind and the woes I have suffered for him?

                                                                                

8 Comments | Sorted by Best

Fair user CapellAndreas commented at the hour of matins: 

Ah, so the shortcomings of having a relationship with partners of equal wit and education reveal themselves!  No doubt he will write you a letter full of sweet words and platitudes to mollify you and win you over. No doubt you will reply with a letter full of equally cunning rhetoric to ensnare him. He will be silver-tongued to try and win you over. Do not resist it, for this is what your love has wrought. I also notice in your post that you say that your relationship began with a shared love of learning. This is absurd! No wonder you have suffered. Everyone knows that love begins with pain created from meditation on the fair sight of another. You cannot have seen his brain to have fallen in love with it, can you? But perhaps all is not lost. If you imagine a series of complex Dialogs relating to your situation, I am sure the answer will reveal itself. 

Fair user MarieLovesLais commented at the hour of compline: 

Would your problems not have been solved if you had not married him at all and carried on your affair with whispered words through a wall of your adjourning houses? I also believe your husband’s choice to compose a piece of writing summarizing his misfortune was good despite how it may have grieved you. Yet perhaps you may yet sway him your own piece of writing. Perhaps some nice moralizing Breton poetry next time? 

Fair user ComtessaBeatrizDia commented at the hour of nones: 

I agree that you need to communicate with this man directly, but I do not think you are at fault at all here! In fact, I sympathize greatly. You are clearly hurting! There is nothing better than an illicit love that you cannot maintain for good, but clearly this love has been soured by your husband’s insistence on marriage and monasticism. The only consolation I can offer is that there are a lot of songwriters who have loved similarly and put their experiences to verse.

Fair user sanctuspaulus commented at the hour of terce: 

I am appalled that you, as a nun and sister in Christ, would have held and continue to hold these feelings about your brother in Christ. The fact that you were married once is moot; he has no more marital obligation to you now that you are no longer his. Remember that in this you are each sinful; strive more wholeheartedly for monastic salvation. #BetterToMarryThantoBurnButNotLikeThat #NunsShouldNotContinuetoLustAfterTheirFormerHusbands 

              User jerome-in-the-desert responded to user sanctuspaulus: 

               Agreed. What a godforsaken situation is this! The heretical original poster should 

               withdraw to a life of asceticism and rethink her actions.

                      User Dr_Augustine_MD responded to user jerome-in-the-desert:

                          Nay, you, user jerome-in-the-desert, should rethink this! Marriage is a 

                          sacrament, though hers may have been born from sinfulness. Now

                          it is good that Sister Heloise_of_Paris has turned from the path of

                          sin, though it is not good that her spiritual partner has abandoned

                          her! Even as her Brother in Christ rather than her husband, he owes

                          her guidance.

                          Edit: To sanctuspaulus: For shame! Hashtags are vanity personified.

Medieval Reddit: r/seduction, circa 1130 AD

r/seduction

Trying to Cold Approach a Duke’s Daughter, What Should my Gameplan Be?

knightseekinglady

Long Story Short, I’m a landless Knight of the Realm who finds myself irreparably ensnared in my passion for the daughter of the local duke. My love burns like a thousand fires, and my soul is forever bound to her favor. Despite this, I’ve never had a conversation with her – I would send her a token of my favor, but her father is a dangerous man who had the last three suitors stripped of their titles. I’ve been returning to the castle often in hopes of seeing a moment to secretly beg for her hand, but I’m unsure how to proceed – would normal court games suffice or should I adopt a different tactic?

For reference, I am five feet and five inches in height, I am capable of lifting a short sword for extended periods in battle, my squire has called my beard “thin but refined”. I have had previous successes with noblewomen – one of them once granted me permission to take a strand of her hair, though she soon after abandoned our love for a count who offered her diamonds.

Do I have a chance to consummate this most divine love?

Seducingwenches

You can make it work, but your approach game has to be down COLD. It might help to slay a local bandit group, and dedicate the victory to her name – the opener is everything. If you cannot find one, there may be a sacred spring or ancient stone nearby that may summon an enchanted warrior – though, at your size, that may be difficult. Either way, remember that ladies love men who can demonstrate their superiority without resorting to the usual lengthy poems, complex ballads, or grief-stricken suicides – don’t tell her, SHOW her you mean business.

REPLY

Knightseekinglady -I may be a small man, but my heart is far greater than the mightiest!

V-Step-Plan

When you engage her in conversation, you must be prepared to play her game of wits! She will certainly reject you at first, but you must persist and use your own cunning to defeat her tests for you. A proper courtship may last for hours at a time, and may take weeks of persistence – if you wish to enter her favor, and her bed, you must never give up hope. This may prove difficult, should the Duke take notice, but evading armed guards and public denouncements to deliver a single rose to her windowsill only proves your love moreso!

Abelard-scholar

Watch out, local dukes are no joke. Had a similar situation, fell in love with a close relation to a duke, thought it was going amazingly. The madman kidnapped and castrated me, and my game was so weak after that I had to retreat to a monastery. Never gonna smash my dear Heloise again….

Henry-theprince

Ladies love a man who seems like he doesn’t need her – makes them feel like there’s something to prove. As a rule, I make sure to never meet my potential wives – instead, I have several of my friends, along with an armed retainer, abduct them from a monastery late at night. Some girls seem a bit put off by this, but don’t worry – once she sees your masculine prowess and ability to kill other people in battle, she will soon be yours forever. Good luck out there!

REPLY: knightseekinglady

That’s…. horrifying. What kind of foul scoundrel would do such a thing?

REPLY: Henry-theprince

I outrank you, peasant. Hold your tongue.

Thelionknight

PLEASE, PLEASE DON’T SCREW THIS UP. I GOT ALL THE WAY UP TO MARRIAGE AND THEN THE BITCH LEFT ME IT WAS ONLY A GODDAMN YEARS ABSENCE. SHE SAID I WAS TOO FOCUSED ON MY WORK AND THE LION CREEPED HER OUT WHEN I WAS GOING DOWN ON HER FUCK I HATE YOU MY SORES

REPLY: 

SeductionMod

Banned this basket case. No clue what he’s talking about but ignore it

Minstrelofthenorth

Are you able to sing a song? I’ve seduced many a lord’s daughter through my ability to bring beauty and passion to life through the strings of my lute. In truth, these ecounters have proved brief, and several times I’ve been escorted out of the city by armed guards following the payoff of a few weeks’ work, but those moments of fleeting love are absolutely worth it.

The Art of Digital Love: based on The Art of Courtly Love by Andreas Cappellanus

Digital love is a certain suffering derived from obsessive stalking of attractive women’s Instagram profiles. It is clear that this love is suffering because it is impossible to ever find these perfect creatures in such flattering poses, or hold or kiss the body that you fixate upon, as they exist only in perfected and edited images. Nor will her voice sound as sweet, her words so charming and her laugh so alluring as the ideal of her in your mind’s eye. In fact, suffering would only be increased upon actual meeting because of this inevitable disappointment. 

 
However, this is not to say that you should make no effort to pursue them. A digital love can fulfill you in ways that a “live” love cannot; they will not scorn you for your poverty or poor looks, as you, too, have the power to manipulate the perception of these as they manipulate their looks. What’s more, you can have endless digital loves because each takes so little time to care for; and each can be perfectly suited to a different romantic need of yours, as you may construct them in your head as you like. A sweet girl balances out against a sultry one, a scholarly woman and a whimsical fairy. 

 
To initiate the pursuit of this love, a noble gentleman must first begin by “liking” her photos. He should not like every single photo; a lover must plan his expenditures of likes so that they remain gifts and compliments with value, rather than a routine and unmemorable prod. He shows his dedication to her by tagging his friends in the comments section of her photo, perhaps with a comment like: “smokeshow,” “dime,” or simply, “ 🔥”; this way, he claims his woman, and makes his admiration known to both his friends and to his beloved. Digital love is not private in its nature; its purpose is not only to fulfill personal desire, but also to increase perceived online social standing. 

The next step in garnering his love’s heart is to send her a direct message. It is true that a minute may feel like a whole hour, essentially eternity in our instant-age, but alas, she is playing coy. Perhaps she may even “leave you on read,” and view your message without responding. Do not despair; even if she does not answer, this gives you more opportunity to love her more purely for admiration of her figure than anything more meaningful, such as witty banter. 

 
In the case that your digital love does respond, the next step is to carry out a conversation that does not necessarily result in ever meeting, because it is likely logistically impractical. Nonetheless, this level of contact— the ever-looming potential but mutually understood impossibility of meeting and becoming live loves— is the step at which you have consummated this digital love. 

 
You can have digital loves and live loves at the same time; your digital love, unlike your live love, will never disappoint you, will always make you feel like a king, only showing you her best sides and most sumptuous smiles. She will never reject you; she only could not be with you because she is so far away, locked behind the screen— though she looks out at you with a gaze that assures you that were she next to you in bed, you’d never come out alive. Oftentimes, we say that your digital love is the mind’s escape for your live love, who will eventually disappoint you. Your digital love, in other words, is not unlike the role of a fairy tale goddess of heroic fantasies of love, lust, and adventure that were passed down centuries ago. In truth, we all should have a digital love and a live love— only an enhanced version of the substitutes we have had for ourselves all along.

Get Your Perfect Lover Quick: Download "LayWithMe" Today!

Are you tired of sitting around, waiting for Lady Love to pierce you with her arrow? Are you looking for a lover and want some say in who it’ll be? Well, look no further. There’s a new cultural movement sweeping Brittany, and now you can get the lover you really want, when you want. Finding love has never been easier, and your lover is guaranteed to be looking for the same thing. No more succumbing to external forces – it’s time to start listening to what you feel on the inside!

Brought to you by world-renowned writer Marie de France, LayWithMe is the medieval world’s first ever dating app. Download it from the App Store, browse through hundreds of profiles, and find your next Tristan or Isolde. Ladies, all you have to do is swipe right to find your dream knight. Guys, tap that heart to become the next Lancelot! It’s that simple. Now, thanks to Marie, medieval lovers have more agency than ever.

Check out the images below to get a taste of who’s waiting for you on LayWithMe. Now get out there and join the #swipelife movement!

Heartbreak Reflected through Blue Light... Introducing the IPhone Era to Laüstic

Coming soon ...

After a brilliant second issue (The Good Wife), the editorial collective of "Love, Medieval Style" will turn its attentions to issue 3: @Amor: medieval lovers do social media. Abelard's Tumblr? Beatriz de Dia's Instagram? Andreas Capellanus's Reddit? Come back in two weeks to see if these are among the goodies on offer ...

Top 7 Emoji To Show Him You Want To Enjoy A Lawful Love

Ladies, it’s about to be cuffing season, and you know what that means: lots of cute guys about to inherit dukedoms who are completely missing the hints you’re dropping. Honest communication is always hard, but it’s especially difficult when you’re planning a wedding and a Christian life together. Between snuggling up with your boo and negotiating the details of your dowry, you’ll need to take some time to establish what it is you want out of your marriage: a relationship beset by scandal or a lawful love? Noble marriages that are grounded in Christian values are the most likely to succeed, but both of you need to be on the same page. To help you better communicate with your lord-to-be, we’ve picked out the best emoji to put in your texts to show him what you’re really thinking.      

🙏

#bless

A big part of your marriage will be adjusting to each other’s habits, so if you intend to spend every night sneaking off to the church to pray or to do good works, it’s better to let him know now rather than deal with a grumpy guy in the morning! This emoji can help you set that mindful mood. Maybe even include it when you send your goodnight texts!

❌👑👰❌

Your Crowning Glory

We get it: every gal wants to look great on her wedding day. But as Pope Nicholas I has reminded us, wedding crowns are beside the point—sure, it’s nice to have that gold or silver band on your head at your wedding (do it for the ‘gram), but your marriage is really all about consent. Are you and your intended heading into this lifelong pact because you want to and not because anyone else is forcing you? If you’re sure, send these emoji to show your guy just what to expect when you head up the aisle.

🙅🙅

One At A Time

If you or your bae grew up in Lotharingia, then you’ve definitely heard the cautionary tale of Lothar II. In case you’re from a bit farther afield, Lothar accidentally ended up with two wives—and when he tried to do the honorable thing and divorce one of them, he got into a big fight with the pope. Fighting the Bishop of Rome never ends well, so don’t be like Lothar! Deploy these emoji to remind your betrothed that he can’t run around with other women anymore—this marriage is between the two of you and no one else.

👶🍼

Outstanding Offspring

Remember that having children legitimates any sex you’re having (within your marriage, ofc!)—and that it’s your responsibility to raise the kiddos to be obedient Christians. It’s okay if you and your fiancé aren’t ready to have your own little ones just yet – although you’re def going to need an heir sooner or later – but these emoji will certainly make your expectations clear. Use them to start a conversation about names and family members you want to honor! We hear that “Henry” is going to be a top hit for boys in 978.

🚫🌍🚫

Forget Worldly Glory

It can certainly be very exciting for both of you to fantasize about the temporal power that you’ll gain upon the death of the in-laws—but remember that your obedience to Christ will mean so much more in the long run. To get you both thinking along the same lines, these emoji will remind you to prepare more for your spiritual #goals than land acquisition. If you’re marrying a second son and don’t see any land grabs in your future, use these to start a conversation about what other worldly trappings you can give up as a couple. Maybe you don’t actually need to put that second stand mixer on your wedding registry?

⛪

Do Trust the B in Diocese 23

It’s important for you to remember that you don’t have to do this whole marriage thing on your own. If you’re having trouble compelling your man to be a good Christian, or you just have questions about what kind of sexy stuff is allowed and what’s not, remember that you can always mosey on over to the local bishop to get his judgement. With this emoji you can let your guy know that you won’t be breaking any church rules, even for him.

💦⚠️

Proceed with Caution

Use this emoji pairing to tell your fiancé that however excited you both might be about finally getting to sleep together, there’s a good chance that most of the time you won’t be able to do it with abandon. Some general guidelines: keep those fluids inside as much as possible! Procreative coupling only! Don’t have sex on the Lord’s Day! If you make it a priority to respect the bodies of our Lord and your lord, then you’ll be well on your way to enjoying a lawful love.