Description

The twelve “lays” of the mysterious medieval poet Mariede France are here presented in sprightly English verse by poet andtranslator David R. Slavitt. Traditional Breton folktales were the rawmaterial for Marie de France’s series of lively but profoundconsiderations of love, life, death, fidelity and betrayal, and luckand fate. They offer acute observations about the choices that womenmake, startling in the late twelfth century and challenging even today.Combining a keen wit with an impressive technical bravura, the lays area minor treasure of European culture.

… It was with some shame

that he explained how, in the wood,

he lived on whatever prey he could

capture and kill. She digested this

and then inquired of him what his

costume was in these bizarre

forays. “Lady, werewolves are

completely naked,” was his reply.

She laughed at this (I can’t guess why)

and asked him where he hid his clothes—

to make conversation, I suppose.

The Lays of Marie de France

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Paperback / softback by David R. Slavitt

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The twelve “lays” of the mysterious medieval poet Mariede France are here presented in sprightly English verse by poet andtranslator... Read more

    Publisher: AU Press
    Publication Date: 01/04/2013
    ISBN13: 9781927356357, 978-1927356357
    ISBN10: 1927356350

    Number of Pages: 122

    Fiction , Poetry

    Description

    The twelve “lays” of the mysterious medieval poet Mariede France are here presented in sprightly English verse by poet andtranslator David R. Slavitt. Traditional Breton folktales were the rawmaterial for Marie de France’s series of lively but profoundconsiderations of love, life, death, fidelity and betrayal, and luckand fate. They offer acute observations about the choices that womenmake, startling in the late twelfth century and challenging even today.Combining a keen wit with an impressive technical bravura, the lays area minor treasure of European culture.

    … It was with some shame

    that he explained how, in the wood,

    he lived on whatever prey he could

    capture and kill. She digested this

    and then inquired of him what his

    costume was in these bizarre

    forays. “Lady, werewolves are

    completely naked,” was his reply.

    She laughed at this (I can’t guess why)

    and asked him where he hid his clothes—

    to make conversation, I suppose.

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