François Villon Oeuvres complètes

François Villon
Oeuvres complètes
Title: Oeuvres complètes
Author: François Villon
Format:
Language:
Pages: 296
Publisher: , 0
ISBN: 2869596871
Format: PDF / Kindle / ePub
Size: 9.7 MB
Download: allowed
Description
This bilingual edition of the 15th-century poet's work incorporates recent scholarship.
Insightful reviews
Helmut: Treulosigkeit und Egoismus
Zu Villon bin ich über Klaus Kinskis Interpretation von Villon-Pastiche-Gedichten gekommen.
Man mag über Kinski als Person denken was man will, seine Deklamationen sind
atemberaubend. Leider hat sich nach der Lektüre des Originalwerks Villons für mich der Funke
leider nicht übertragen lassen.
Im Gegensatz zu den blutschweren, erotischen und lebensnahen Zech-Nachdichtungen, die
Kinski spricht, ist Villon ein etwas müder Gegenpart, dessen Gedichte starken
Aufzählungscharakter haben und die sich sehr stark auf seine Umgebung und Zeitgeschichte
beziehen. Seine Legate und Testament lesen sich tatsächlich wie notarielle Dokumente, denn
der Seitenhieb, der vielleicht in ihnen versteckt ist, erschließt sich dem modernen Leser, oder
zumindest aber mir, nicht. Seine Hauptthemen sind die Ungerechtigkeit, Treulosigkeit und
Rücksichtslosigkeit der damaligen Gesellschaft, und die persönlichen Kränkungen und
Demütigungen, die ihm widerfahren sind, denen er mit seinem Werk ein andauerndes Denkmal
setzen will.
Ich bewerte diese Ausgabe trotzdem recht hoch, auch wenn mir das Werk Villons nicht
übermäßig zusagt, denn die editoriale Aufbereitung ist hervorragend gelungen. Jede
Doppelseite ist links mit französischem Original und rechts mit einer deutschen Übersetzung
ausgestattet, dazu ein Umfangreiches Nachwort und ein Personen- und Ortsindex, der über die
vielen angesprochenen Personen Auskunft gibt. Vorbildlich, und auch die Papierqualität und der
Druck überzeugen: Ein sehr schön anzusehendes Taschenbuch.
Die deutsche Übersetzung ist für mich ein bisschen zwiespältig, und zwar aus dem einfachen
Grund, dass sie mir besser gefällt als das französische Original. Im Original ist vieles sehr
elliptisch gehalten, manchmal erschließt sich mir das Metrum nicht (wahrscheinlich aufgrund der
unterschiedlichen Aussprache zum heutigen Französisch?) - im Gegensatz dazu eine
sprachgewaltige, mitreißende deutsche Fassung, sehr flüssig und rund, und, wenn man textuell
vergleicht, doch sehr nah am Original. Das Schicksal eines Übersetzers: entweder man wird
kritisiert für schlechte Übersetzung, oder für (zu?) gute...
Immerhin hat Villon mir ein Gedicht geschenkt, das ich ungemein beeindruckend finde, und
besonders in der letzten Strophe sprachlich wie emotional dicht ist wie kaum ein anderes Poem.
Und sie, der einst ich treu ergeben
mit Herz und Sinn in Einfalt war,
bis dann hinfort mein ganzes Leben
zu Kummer ward und Schmerz sogar,
hätt sie zu Anfang gleich gesagt,
wie sie gesonnen, leider nein!
so hätte ich nicht lang gefragt,
aus ihrem Netz mich zu befrein.
Wovon auch mocht die Rede sein,
sie war zu lauschen stets bereit
und sagte weder ja noch nein,
sie litt es auch von Zeit zu Zeit,
dass ich ein wenig näher rückte,
und trieb so ihren Scherz mit mir,
und was ich sagte, sie entzückte,
sie machte mich zum Narren schier.
(...)
Die Liebe hat mich lang genarrt,
ich hab vor ihrer Tür getanzt.
Kein Mann ist je so schlau und hart,
wär er wie Silber fein gestanzt,
selbst Hemd und Wams gäb er noch her.
Doch keiner ward wie ich geprellt,
verspottet bin ich um so mehr:
ein abgeblitzter Liebesheld!
Drum schwör ich ab und fluch der Liebe,
in Glut und Blut verzehr sie sich.
Wenn sie auch in den Tod mich triebe,
sie schert sich keinen Deut um mich.
Die Fiedel leg ich auf die Bank,
ihr Buhlen, ich tanz aus der Reih,
wenn ich auch ehdem mit euch sang,
erklär ich jetzt: das ist vorbei.
(S. 85f)
Antonomasia: translation by Galway Kinnell
There's a game I've always loved to play when looking at portraits: imagining people in other
costumes and other eras. The aristocratic lady who in all her Watteau finery looks as if she'd be
happiest manning a stall at the church bring-and-buy sale in a nice sensible jumper. Or how
about a Roman toga instead of a suit for him? The gormless looking young noble who would
suit casting as a mailroom boy; peasants with an air of confidence and leadership who look like
they should be in charge and probably would be now.
Reading François Villon, then, is a real version of Portrait of the Bedsit Poet as a Fifteenth
Century Man.
From 'The Legacy':
Near Christmas, the dead time
When wolves live on the wind
And men stick to their houses
Against the frost, close by the blaze
A desire came to me to break out
Of the prison of great love
That was breaking my heart...
[several pages later]
As soon as my mind was at rest
And my understanding had cleared
I tried to finish my task
But my ink was frozen
And I saw my candle had blown out
I couldn't have found any fire
So I fell asleep all muffled up
Unable to give it another ending
…
He has neither tent nor pavilion
That hasn't been left to a friend
All he has now is a bit of change
Which will soon be gone
I liked it from the first bits I read on Google Books, and - having previously contemplated
reading Villon a few weeks ago on hearing he was the first of Verlaine's poètes maudits - I read
all I could on there one day, after other things nudged me in this direction: posts about Osamu
Dazai and then Rabelais. And then I ordered this edition. I've looked at several translations; this
and Anthony Bonner's are my favourites, then David Georgi, and then Peter Dale's (the last I
really didn't like; some of the rhymes made me cringe).
Villon's two major works are 'The Legacy' (1456) and 'The Testament' (1461) which use a
popular late medieval verse form of making a satirical will. (A while ago there was an issue of
McSweeney's in which modern poets wrote in archaic forms; I don't think this was among them
but I would rather like to see a contemporary one done - though it obviously has far less traction
in a century and hemisphere when the vast majority of people are healthy and long-lived than it
did in the wake of the Black Death and the Hundred Years' War.) The poems do lose out a bit
by having references to people Villon knew, records of whom have not survived in all cases, but
the mocking tone still becomes evident from what is known and there is a real sense of wit and
personality here. I think it probably does help to already know some medieval history, however.
(And if you do, the sense of an artist projecting their own identity is absolutely stunning and
quite unlike anything else before Montaigne.) The maturing of voice in the five years between
these two long poems is incredibly striking: 'The Legacy' is simply by a clever, angry young
man; 'The Testament' is far more wide-ranging and one feels the weight of the world on his
shoulders. Sadly among the reasons for this were experiences of being imprisoned and tortured
(for common crimes such as robbery rather than any elevated political or religious dissent). 'The
Testament' is still in a way the same witty personality but with greater complexity and
seriousness of thought, and blackly bitter where once he was more playful. Though in one
section there is an imaginative, vituperative disgustingness which made me a little queasy and
reminded me of some of Will Self's fiction. To a reader who was not an aficionado of late
medieval European history, I think it's possible this long poem may pall at times; in the verses
full of names - which I did not want to interrupt to constantly check notes - and some others,
what kept it going for me was the atmosphere of time and place.
His shorter poems include a few semi-devotional verses probably written for patrons, but in
most of the short works a grumpy, yet puckish insolence is still present. The final poems here
are about execution and torture and give an insight I'd never seen before into how at least one
medieval criminal viewed these. They are also very moving - though because of the distance in
time I did not find them so upsetting as modern accounts.
I must say that older foreign texts, by dint of a good choice of translations, are are more
accessible than native ones. I don't (though I'd like to be able to truthfully say I still did) sit down
and casually read a bit of Chaucer or Langland for an hour when I really should be doing
something else. But neither could I stoop to reading modernised versions. It's easy to get out of
practice with stuff like Middle English and even when I was a student it required a lot of focus.
This, by contrast, was very enjoyable to read.
Two other poems from this translation are here
Tony Gualtieri: A fine translation which seems to capture the spirit, if not the music, of Villon.
Geoff: cannot think i have not rated this one yet... Villon is Rimbaud and Baudelaire and Poe
and Genet a half-millennium sooner than these liked brethren in sin. Villon is the bloodied
phrases of God writ at the Satanic chasuble. Villon is the banished poet-murderer-thief haunting
the interstices of a dead-lily hued heart Ages. Villon is unique sin. Villon wrote "Mais où sont les
neiges d'antan?", some of the most recognized strains of poetry ever penned. Villon is the
snows of yesteryear- Villon is the shadow of existence- François des Loges, François de
Montcorbier, Michel Mouton, fleeing Paris with gold stolen from the damaged chapel, Villon's
responsible tears stained the parchment with everlasting sour blood-testaments. Villon wanders
the darkest areas of the vanished dream of the fifteenth century, unearths his method into
Rabelais, and vaults over into the land of dying with no sound, a real ghost, in simple terms
present endlessly among the traces scrawled on time-harried pages, decayed and distributed to
develop into the fertile undersoil of all succeeding French literature.
Melissa Whitney: i have learn this number of poems time and again and every time i locate
anything new to appreciate in it. Villon used to be a dark, dissatisfied soul and his poetry
displays that. there's an aching realism to his verse. anything so fantastically morbid in regards
to the approach he lays phrases one by one with seeming casualness. you are feeling part of
what he is telling you, even supposing the events and hardships are from a very diversified era.
Villon permits us to work out the humanness of life, now not in spite of, yet as a result of how we
nonetheless locate ourselves within the overflowing innovations of a long-dead poet.
Justin: i've got approximately 12 various translations of Villon relationship from the mid
nineteenth century throughout the overdue 20th. This model via Kinnell is the best. He captures
either the spirit and kind of the grasp so good it is nearly spooky.For sheer enjoyable though,
my favourite is the loose verse translation performed through Anthony Bonner and released in
1960 via Bantam.
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