Quevedo vs Góngora (@Siegmund)

Yago · #1 (**permalink**) Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005, 09:40

Sorry Siegmund, but after reading the verses of Góngora that you wrote, I couldn't help laughing out loud.

Quote:

Pasos de un peregrino son errante
cuantos me dictó versos dulce musa:
en soledad confusa
perdidos unos, otros inspirados. (Luis de Góngora)

Don't worry, I'll explain what I mean, and take advantage on this to present my all time prefered Spanish poet and writer.

Of the Spanish Golden Age of Literature, the writer that I admire and most enjoy is don Franciso de Quevedo y Villegas. Quevedo was a patriot and a well known anti-semite. (It is not only those traits that I admire so much of him, but the fact that he was a master of satire, and a man of much vision).

Quevedo's sweared enemy was Luis de Góngora, who was of a family of New Christians (i.e. Marranos or Jews converts).

The exchange of attacks between Quevedo and Góngora through satiric verses was something without precedents in the history of literature. Here I will paste and translated one verse of Quevedo against Góngora, another of Góngora against Quevedo, and finally a much known verse of Quevedo against Góngora. I've been able to find a translation for the latter, but you will have to bear with my rough and poor translations for the first two.

Before anything else, allow me to introduce this comparison that I found of the characters of both writers which will help to better understand (the comparison falls short and is still shallow, but it will help):

Quote:

Góngora is more laicist, materialistic and liberal in his "customs and habits"; he allows himself to be dragged by the artificiality of mythological loves of classic style. While with Quevedo we find the existencialist crisis purely baroque, the Christian passion, the fear to death, to divine justice, and something that he has been accused of (maybe unjustly) under the mentality of his time: the despise to [social] class.

Quote:

In Quevedo we find the anguish for the passing of time, the wrath caused by the lack of love [of society in those times, not personal love]... in Góngora we find the liking for physical pleasure, the voluptuosity of a description... In the end, Góngora and Quevedo will share the the tone of the burlesque and personal satire.

Yago · #2 (**permalink**) Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005, 10:34

Quote:

Yo te untaré mis obras con tocino	I shall spread on you my works with lard(1)
Porque no me las muerdas, Gongorilla,	So that you don't bite it, Gongorilla(2)
Perro de los ingenios de Castilla,	Dog(3) of the wits of Castilla,
Docto en pullas, cual mozo de camino.	Erudite in obscene words, like lackay of the road(4)
*
Apenas hombre, sacerdote indino,	Barely a man, contemptible priest,
Que aprendiste sin christus la cartilla;	Who learned without christus the lesson; (5)
Chocarrero de Córdoba y Sevilla,	Coarse of Cordoba and Seville
Y en la Corte, bufón a lo divino.	And in the Court, jester to the divine
*
¿Por qué censuras tú la lengua griega	Why do you censor the Greek language
siendo sólo rabí de la judía,	being you nothing but a rabbi of the jewess,
cosa que tu nariz aun no lo niega?	something that your nose can't deny
*
No escribas versos más, por vida mía;	Do not write more verses, by the life of mine;
Aunque aquesto de escribas se te pega,	Although this of clerk sticks in you,
Por tener de sayón la rebeldía.	For having as tunic the defiance.

Francisco de Quevedo y Villegas

(1) A reference to the Hebrew prohibiton to eat pork.
(2) A derogative diminutive.
(3) A reference to the insult "perro judío" (jewish dog [wretched]).
(4) A "lackay of the road" (mozo de camino) was a work held as low.
(5) In clear reference to his origins in converts, which were accused of being false Christians, or Christians of convenience.

Yago · #3 (**permalink**) Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005, 11:16

Quote:

Anacreonte español, no hay quien os tope.

Spanish Anacreonte(1), there is no one who puts a stop to you.

Que no diga con mucha cortesía,	Who doesn't say with much courtesy,
Que ya que vuestros pies son de elegía,	That your feet are now of elegy(2)
Que vuestras suavidades son de arrope.	That your softnesses are of syrup.(2bis)
*
¿No imitaréis al terenciano Lope,	Will you not imitate the terencian Lope,(3)
Que al de Belerofonte cada día.	That the Belerofonte every day
Sobre zuecos de cómica poesía	Over clogs of comical poetry(4)
Se calza espuelas, y le da un galope?	Puts on the spurts, and goes to the gallop?
*
Con cuidado especial vuestros antojos	With special care your whims
Dicen que quieren traducir al griego,	Say that they want to translate to Greek
No habiéndolo mirado vuestros ojos.	Not having looked at it with your eyes.
*
Prestádselos un rato a mi ojo ciego,	Loan them for a moment to my blind eye,
Porque a luz saque ciertos versos flojos,	So that I bring out to the light a few weak verses,
Y entenderéis cualquier gregüesco luego.	And then you will understand any gregüesco(5)

Luis de Góngora

(1) Irony with references to the Greek poet Anarcreonte, much imitated during the Renaissance.
(2) Ironical comparison: feet of elegy (classic verses) vs. (2bis) softnesses of jelly (sweet pumpkin of rough taste).
(3) Lope de Vega, known as the Phoenix of the Witness and Creativity. The person of Lope de Vega was central to the accusations of Quevedo against Góngora in poetry.
(4) Imitator of comical poetry.
(5) Pants used in Spain in the XVIth and XVIIth centuries.

Yago · #4 (**permalink**) Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005, 11:59

Quote:

A un hombre de gran nariz	To a man with a big nose
*
Erase un hombre a una nariz pegado,	Once there was a man stuck to a nose,
érase una nariz superlativa,	it was a nose more marvellous than weird,
érase una alquitara medio viva,	it was a nearly living web of tubes,
érase un peje espada mal barbado;	it was a swordfish with an awful beard,
era un reloj de sol mal encarado,	it was a sundial doomed to face the shade,
érase un elefante boca arriba,	an elephant that looked up to the sky,
érase una nariz sayón y escriba,	it was a nose of hangman and of scribe,
un Ovidio Nasón mal narigado.	Ovidius Naso nostrilled all awry,
*
Erase el espolón de una galera,	it was the bowsprit of a mighty ship,
érase una pirámide de Egito,	like Egypt's pyramid it pierced the sky,
las doce tribus de narices era;	it was of noses all of the twelve tribes;
*
érase un naricísimo infinito	it was in noseness truly infinite,
frisón archinariz, caratulera,	an archnose shudder, and a frightening mask,
sabañón garrafal, morado y frito.	a monstrous chilblain, purpley and fried.
*
Otra versión (posiblemente la original) del terceto final:	Translation of the alternate final tercet (possibly the original):
érase un naricísimo infinito,	it was in noseness truly infinite,
muchísimo nariz, nariz tan fiera,	an awful lot of nose, a nose so fierce
que en la cara de Anás fuera delito.	that on Annas's face would be a crime.

Francisco de Quevedo y Villegas

Siegmund · #5 (**permalink**) Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005, 12:25

Quote:

Originally Posted by Mynydd

Quevedo's sweared enemy was Luis de Góngora, who was of a family of New Christians (i.e. Marranos or Jews converts).

I confess I had completely forgotten this grand struggle, though I spent some time studying it in detail at university some years ago. At the time I remember being haunted by Góngora's ornate, latinate sentence construction and bizzare vocabulary - it was not for nothing that period was also called baroque and roccoco.

Here are some favorite Quevado verses of mine, which I am sure must be familiar to you already:

Quote:

Afectos varios de su corazón, fluctuando en las ondas de los cabellos de Lisi
Franscisco de Quevedo y Villegas

En crespa tempestad del oro undoso
nada golfos de luz ardiente y pura
mi corazón, sediento de hermosura,
si el cabello deslazas generoso.

Leandro en mar de fuego proceloso
su amor ostenta, su vivir apura;
Ícaro en senda de oro mal segura
arde sus alas por morir glorioso.

Con pretensión de fénix, encendidas
sus esperanzas, que difuntas lloro,
intenta que su muerte engendre vidas.

Avaro y rico, y pobre en el tesoro,
el castigo y la hambre imita a Midas,
Tántalo en fugitiva fuente de oro.

Plain prose translation in English:

Quote:

The Various Motions of his Heart, Floating on the Waves of Lisi's Hair
Franscisco de Quevedo y Villegas

In the curled tempest of wavy gold my heart, thirsty for beauty, swims gulfs of pure and burning light, if you let down your beautiful hair.

Leander on a sea of stormy fire displays his love and consumes his life; Icarus on an unsafe path of gold burns his wings to die gloriously.

With the ambition of a Phoenix, fired with hopes for whose extinction I weep, it attempts to breed lives by its death.

Greedy and rich, and poor in treasure, it copies Midas in its punishment and its hunger, Tantalus in its fleeting fountain of gold.

Yago · #6 (**permalink**) Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005, 16:07

My prefered verses from Quevedo. And probably my prefered verses in general for their profoundness and meaningfulness nowadays (ok.. together with Jorge Manrique's elegy sonets, Coplas a la muerte de su padre):

Quote:

Miré los muros de la patria mía,	I looked at the walls of my ancestral land,
si un tiempo fuertes ya desmoronados	If one time strong, now crumbling in decay,
de la carrera de la edad cansados	And weary with time’s course that slips away,
por quien caduca ya su valentía.	Their valor such a force cannot withstand.
*
Salíme al campo: vi que el sol bebía	I walked the fields, and saw the sun at hand
los arroyos del hielo desatados,	Was drinking up the streamlets thawed today;
y del monte quejosos los ganados	And, being robbed of their clear light of day,
que con sombras hurtó su luz al día.	The flocks the wooded hill did reprimand.
*
Entré en mi casa: vi que amancillada	I went inside, and saw my house become
de anciana habitación era despojos,	Old dwelling stained, with rubble overrun;
mi báculo más corvo y menos fuerte.	My walking cane less strong, more prone to bend.
*
Vencida de la edad sentí mi espada,	I felt my sword, by age now overcome,
y no hallé cosa en que poner los ojos	And I found naught to cast my eyes upon
que no fuese recuerdo de la muerte.	Not grim reminder that does death portend.

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