Carcel De Amor Book

The archetypal medieval romance, full of courtliness and didacticism, i.e. exactly the kind of thing that drove Don Quixote insane.

Love is something to die for, and chastity is a woman's greatest virtue. It somehow makes sense to kill hundreds of men in battle in order to do service to one's love, who will never acknowledge the favor. The best (but not necessarily effective) way to a woman's heart is to threaten suicide and blame her for it. One should never speak except in the form of a long oration including enumerated arguments (e.g. the .xv. reasons not to insult women and the .xx. reasons to adore them).

Steven Moore wrote, in comparing this to the work of another medieval author, Martorell (of Tirant lo Blanc): "The Castilian Diego de San Pedro took a different approach to saving the novel of chivalry from hacks: instead of making it more realistic..., he made it even more artificial." And he was right. This is a book for one who can love and appreciate the artificiality of it all, or one who can allow himself or herself to be taken in by its artifice.

I took pleasure in reading the cleverly crafted Englyshe translation from the 16th century, by Iohan Bowrchier knyght, which can be found for free online. I hope someday I can enjoy this again in Keith Whinnom's 1979 translation.

Oh yeah, some quotes:

"...he that can not suffre, can not ioy..."

"...he that dyeth lyuyng hath not moche to suffre, but he that lyveth dyenge his euyll & payne is stronge..."

"...who so hadde folowyd me by the trace of my wepynge, might well haue found me out."

And, just for fun, am I crazy, or does this obliquely hint at masturbation (not that the chaste Laureola would even know the meaning of such a thing, but our occasionally omniscient and playfully intrusive "auctor" may)?

"I require the, strenght thy selfe, lyke a valiant knyght and remedy thy selfe discretely."