Beihefte zur Mediaevistik: Band 29 2016

Andrea Grafetstätter / Sieglinde Hartmann / James Ogier (eds.) 2016

, Islands · and Cities in Medieval Myth, Literature, and History. Papers Delivered at the International Medieval Congress, Univer-sity of Leeds, in 2005, 2006, and 2007 (2011) Internationale Zeitschrift für interdisziplinäre Mittelalterforschung

Olaf Wagener (Hrsg.), „vmbringt mit starcken turnen, murn“. Ortsbefesti- Band 29 gungen im Mittelalter (2010)

Hiram Kümper (Hrsg.), eLearning & Mediävistik. Mittelalter lehren und lernen im neumedialen Zeitalter (2011)

Olaf Wagener (Hrsg.), Symbole der Macht? Aspekte mittelalterlicher und frühneuzeitlicher Architektur (2012)

N. Peter Joosse, The Physician as a Rebellious Intellectual. The Book of the Two Pieces of Advice or Kitāb al-Naṣīḥatayn by cAbd al-Laṭīf ibn Yūsuf al-Baghdādī (1162–1231) (2013)

Meike Pfefferkorn, Zur Semantik von rike in der Sächsischen Weltchronik. Reden über Herrschaft in der frühen deutschen Chronistik - Transforma- tionen eines politischen Schlüsselwortes (2014)

Eva Spinazzè, La luce nell'architettura sacra: spazio e orientazione nelle chiese del X-XII secolo tra Romandie e Toscana. Including an English summary. Con una introduzione di Xavier Barral i Altet e di Manuela Incerti (2016)

Christa Agnes Tuczay (Hrsg.), Jenseits. Eine mittelalterliche und mediävis- tische Imagination. Interdisziplinäre Ansätze zur Analyse des Unerklär- lichen (2016)

Begründet von Peter Dinzelbacher Herausgegeben von Albrecht Classen LANG MEDIAEVISTIK

MEDI 29-2016 271583-160x230 Br-AM PLE.indd 1 24.01.17 KW 04 09:06 Beihefte zur Mediaevistik: Band 29 2016

Andrea Grafetstätter / Sieglinde Hartmann / James Ogier (eds.) 2016

, Islands · and Cities in Medieval Myth, Literature, and History. Papers Delivered at the International Medieval Congress, Univer-sity of Leeds, in 2005, 2006, and 2007 (2011) Internationale Zeitschrift für interdisziplinäre Mittelalterforschung

Olaf Wagener (Hrsg.), „vmbringt mit starcken turnen, murn“. Ortsbefesti- Band 29 gungen im Mittelalter (2010)

Hiram Kümper (Hrsg.), eLearning & Mediävistik. Mittelalter lehren und lernen im neumedialen Zeitalter (2011)

Olaf Wagener (Hrsg.), Symbole der Macht? Aspekte mittelalterlicher und frühneuzeitlicher Architektur (2012)

N. Peter Joosse, The Physician as a Rebellious Intellectual. The Book of the Two Pieces of Advice or Kitāb al-Naṣīḥatayn by cAbd al-Laṭīf ibn Yūsuf al-Baghdādī (1162–1231) (2013)

Meike Pfefferkorn, Zur Semantik von rike in der Sächsischen Weltchronik. Reden über Herrschaft in der frühen deutschen Chronistik - Transforma- tionen eines politischen Schlüsselwortes (2014)

Eva Spinazzè, La luce nell'architettura sacra: spazio e orientazione nelle chiese del X-XII secolo tra Romandie e Toscana. Including an English summary. Con una introduzione di Xavier Barral i Altet e di Manuela Incerti (2016)

Christa Agnes Tuczay (Hrsg.), Jenseits. Eine mittelalterliche und mediävis- tische Imagination. Interdisziplinäre Ansätze zur Analyse des Unerklär- lichen (2016)

Begründet von Peter Dinzelbacher Herausgegeben von Albrecht Classen LANG MEDIAEVISTIK

MEDI 29-2016 271583-160x230 Br-AM PLE.indd 1 24.01.17 KW 04 09:06 Internationale Zeitschrift für interdisziplinäre Mittelalterforschung

Begründet von Peter Dinzelbacher Herausgegeben von Albrecht Classen

Band 29 · 2016 Stabskirche in Heddal, Notodden, Telemark, in Norwegen (Bild Peter Dinzelbacher)

ISSN 0934-7453 ISSN-Internet: 2199-806X © Peter Lang GmbH Internationaler Verlag der Wissenschaften Frankfurt am Main 2017 Alle Rechte vorbehalten. Peter Lang Edition ist ein Imprint der Peter Lang GmbH. Peter Lang – Frankfurt am Main · Bern · Bruxelles · New York · Oxford · Warszawa · Wien Das Werk einschließlich aller seiner Teile ist urheberrechtlich geschützt. Jede Verwertung außerhalb der engen Grenzen des Urheberrechtsgesetzes ist ohne Zustimmung des Verlages unzulässig und strafbar. Das gilt insbesondere für Vervielfältigungen, Übersetzungen, Mikroverfilmungen und die Einspeicherung und Verarbeitung in elektronischen Systemen. www.peterlang.com Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 1

Inhalt

Aufsätze

John M. Jeep, Das Rolandslied: Stabreimende Wortpaare im Frühmittelhochdeutschen______11 Werner Schäfke, Auf den Leib geschriebene Rollen und eingefleischte Eigenschaften. Körpersymbolik und soziale Rollensysteme in altnordischer Dichtung und Prosa______39 Jan Alexander van Nahl, The Medieval Mood of Contingency. Chance as a Shaping Factor in Hákonar saga góða and Haralds saga Sigurðarsonar______81 Jalal abd Alghani, Medieval Readership, the Loving Poet and the Creation of the Exquisite Ode: A Note on Ibn Zaydūn’s Nūniyya and the Poetic Visualization of Love______99 Deborah Fraioli, Heloise’s First Letter as a Response to the Historia Calamitatum_ 119 Masza Siltek, The Threefold Movement of St. Adalbert’s Head______143 Albrecht Classen, The Transnational and the Transcultural in Medieval German Literature: Spatial Identity and Pre-Modern Concepts of Nationhood in the Works of Wolfram von Eschenbach, Gottfried von Straßburg, Rudolf von Ems, and Konrad von Würzburg______175 Juan Carlos Bayo, El dilema de la resolución del signo tironiano en el Cantar de Mio Cid______195 Inti Athanasios Yanes-Fernandez, Poetics of Dreams: The Narrative Meaning of the Dream-Chronotope in The House of Fame and La Vida es Sueño______207 Werner Heinz, Heilige Längen. Zu den Maßen des Christus- und des Mariengrabes in Bebenhausen______245 Teodoro Patera, Signes du corps, corps du récit : les traces corporelles dans le Roman de Tristan de Béroul______269 Huw Grange, In Praise of Fragments. A Manuscript of the Prose Tristan in Châlons-en-Champagne______287 2 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

Rezensionen

Gesamtes Mittelalter

Alexander the Great in the Middle Ages: Transcultural Perspectives, ed. Markus Stock (A. CLASSEN)______307 Gerd Althoff, Kontrolle der Macht. Formen und Regeln politischer Beratung im Mittelalter (J. A. VAN NAHL)______308 Oliver Auge, Christiane Witthöft, Hg., Ambiguität im Mittelalter. Formen zeitgenössischer Reflexion und interdisziplinärer Rezeption (J. A. VAN NAHL)__ 310 Sverre Bagge, Cross & Scepter. The Rise of the Scandiavian Kingdoms from the Vikings to the Reformation (J. A. VAN NAHL)______311 János M. Bak and Ivan Jurković, ed., Chronicon: Medieval Narrative Sources. A Chronological Guide with Introductory Essays (G. VERCAMER)______313 Keagan Brewer, compiler and translator, Prester John: The Legend and its Sources (R. J. CORMIER)______314 Byzantine Images and their Afterlives: Essays in Honour of Annemarie Weyl Carr (G. W. TROMPF)______316 The Character of Christian-Muslim Encounter. Essays in Honour of David Thomas, ed. (J. JAKOB)______318 Albrecht Classen, ed., Mental Health, Spirituality, and Religion in the Middle Ages and Early Modern Age. Fundamentals of Medieval and Early Modern Culture (H. HARTMANN)______320 Albrecht Classen, Reading Medieval European Women Writers. Strong Literary Witnesses from the Past (B. LUNDT)______323 Albrecht Classen, ed., Death in the Middle Ages and Early Modern Times: The Material and Spiritual Conditions of the Culture of Death (C. STANFORD)__ 325 Giuseppe Di Stefano, ed., Nouveau Dictionnaire Historique des Locutions: Ancien Français – Moyen Français – Renaissance (W. SAYERS)______329 The World of St. Francis of Assisi. Essays in Honor of William R. Cook, ed. (K. PANSTERS)______330 Sandra Hindman with Scott Miller, Intro. by Diana Scarisbrick, Take this Ring: Medieval and Renaissance Rings from the Griffin Collection (A. CLASSEN)____ 332 Katalog der lateinischen Handschriften der Bayerischen Staatsbibliothek München. Die Handschriften aus den Klöstern Altenhohenau und Altomünster: Clm 2901–2966 sowie Streubestände gleicher Provenienz (J. M. JEEP)______333 Katalog der mittelalterlichen Handschriften der Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Bonn beschrieben von Jürgen Geiß (J. M. JEEP)______336 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 3

Patricia Clare Ingham, The Medieval New: Ambivalence in an Age of Innovation. The Middle Ages Series (R. J. CORMIER)______339 Madeline Jeay, Póétique de la nomination dans la lyrique médiévale. “Mult volentiers me numerai (W. PFEFFER)______340 Richard W. Kaeuper, Medieval Chivalry (A. CLASSEN)______344 Klaus Krack und Gustav Oberholzer, Die Ostausrichtung der mittelalterlichen Kirchen und Gräber (T. HORST)______346 Lexikon der regionalen Literaturgeschichte des Mittelalters: Ungarn und Rumänien. Hrsg. Von Cora Dietl und Anna-Lena Liebermann (A. CLASSEN)___ 348 Emily Lyle, Ten Gods: A New Approach to Defining the Mythological Structures of the Indo-Europeans (W. SAYERS)______350 Magia daemoniaca, magia naturalis, zouber: Schreibweisen von Magie und Alchemie in Mittelalter und Früher Neuzeit, hrsg. Peter-André Alt, Jutta Eming, Tilo Renz und Volkhard Wels (A. CLASSEN)______351 Bert Roest, Franciscan Learning, Preaching and Mission c. 1220–1650 (R. LÜTZELSCHWAB)______353 Rothenburg ob der Tauber. Geschichte der Stadt und ihres Umlandes, ed. Horst F. Rupp and Karl Borchardt (D. NICHOLAS)______356 Irmgard Rüsenberg, Liebe und Leid, Kampf und Grimm: Gefühlswelten in der deutschen Literatur des Mittelalters (A. CLASSEN)______358 Sacred Histories: A Festschrift for Máire Herbert, ed. John Carey (W. SAYERS)__ 359 Rüdiger Schnell, Haben Gefühle eine Geschichte? Aporien einer History of emotions (A. CLASSEN)______361 Schaumburg im Mittelalter. Hrsg. von Stefan Brüdermann (A. WOLF)______365 Town and Country in Medieval North Western Europe. Dynamic Interactions, ed. Alexis Wilkin (D. NICHOLAS)______370 Travels and Mobilities in the Middle Ages: From the Atlantic to the Baltic Sea, ed. Marianne O’Doherty and Felicitas Schmieder (R. SCHMITZ-ESSER)______371 E. R. Truitt, Medieval Robots: Mechanism, Magic, Nature, and Art (C. M. CUSACK)______373 Verstellung und Betrug im Mittelalter und in der mittelalterlichen Literatur, hrsg. Matthias Meyer und Alexander Sager (A. CLASSEN)______375 Welterfahrung und Welterschließung in Mittelalter und Früher Neuzeit, hrsg. Anna Kathrin Bleuler (A. CLASSEN)______379 Helmut Zander, „Europäische“ Religionsgeschichte (M. J. ORTUZAR ESCUDERO)______381 4 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

Zwischen Rom und Santiago: Festschrift für Klaus Herbers zum 65. Geburtstag, hrsg. Claudia Alraum, Andreas Holndonner, Hans-Christian Lehner, et al. (A. CLASSEN)______384

Frühmittelalter

Althochdeutsches Wörterbuch; Elmar Seebold. Chronologisches Wörterbuch des deutschen Wortschatzes. Der Wortschatz des 8. Jahrhunderts (und frühere Quellen) (Titelabkürzung: ChWdW8); Zweiter Band. Der Wortschatz des 9. Jahrhunderts (Titelabkürzung ChWdW9) (J. M. JEEP)______387 Ava: Geistliche Dichtungen, hrsg. Maike Claußnitzer und Kassandra Sperl (A. CLASSEN)______391 Calcidius, On Plato’s Timaeus (R. J. CORMIER)______392 Tomás Ó Cathasaigh, Coire Sois, The Cauldron of Knowledge: A Companion to Early Irish Saga (R. J. CORMIER)______394 Alice Jorgensen, Frances McCormack, and Jonathan Wilcox, ed., Anglo-Saxon Emotions: Reading the Heart in Old English Language, Literature and Culture (C. M. CUSACK)______396 Albert Derolez, The Making and Meaning of the Liber Floridus: A Study of the Original Manuscript, Ghent, University Library MS 92 (S. G. BRUCE)______399 Ekkehart IV. von St. Gallen. Hg. von Norbert Kössinger, Elke Krotz und Stephan Müller (J. M. JEEP)______400 Joel Kalvesmaki and Robin Darling Young, ed., Evagrius and His Legacy (T. FARMER)______403 Achim Thomas Hack, Karolinger Kaiser als Sportler: Ein Beitrag zur frühmittelalterlichen Körpergeschichte (A. CLASSEN)______405 Akihiro Hamano. Die frühmittelhochdeutsche Genesis. Synoptische Ausgabe nach der Wiener, Millstätter und Vorauer Handschrift (J. M. JEEP)______406 Gerald Kapfhammer, Die Evangelienharmonie Tatian. Studien zum Codex Sangallensis 56 (H. HARTMANN)______409 Bernard Pouderon, ed., Les Romans grecs et latins et leurs réécritures modernes: Études sur la réception de l’ancien roman, du Moyen Age à la fin du XIXe siècle (R. J. CORMIER)______411 Dieter Geuenich and Uwe Ludwig, ed., Libri vitae: Gebetsgedenken in der Gesellschaft des Frühen Mittelalters (S. G. BRUCE)______413 The Long Twelfth-Century View of the Anglo-Saxon Past, ed. Martin Brett and David A. Woodman (A. BREEZE)______414 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 5

Megan Cavell, Weaving Words and Binding Bodies: The Poetics of Human Experience in Old English Literature (J. M. HILL)______415 Judith Jesch, The Viking Diaspora. The Medieval World Series (A. SAUCKEL)__ 417 Carla Harder, Pseudoisidor und das Papsttum. Funktion und Bedeutung des apostolischen Stuhls in den pseudoisidorischen Fälschungen (A. RAFFEINER)______418 John F. Romano, Liturgy and Society in Early Medieval Rome (S. G. BRUCE)___ 419 Christer Lindqvist, Norn im keltischen Kontext (W. SAYERS)______421 Renate Schipke, Das Buch in der Spätantike: Herstellung, Form, Ausstattung und Verbreitung in der westlichen Reichshälfte des Imperium Romanum (J. FÜHRER)______423 Stefan J. Schustereder, Strategies of Identity Construction: The Writings of Gildas, Aneirin and Bede (A. BREEZE)______425 M. J. Toswell, The Anglo-Saxon Psalter (S. G. BRUCE)______427 Kim Hjardar and Vegard Vike, Vikings at War (A. CLASSEN)______428 Niamh Wycherley, The Cult of Relics in Early Medieval Ireland (R. LÜTZELSCHWAB)______430

Hochmittelalter

Anna Kathrin Bleuler, Essen – Trinken – Liebe: Kultursemiotische Untersuchungen zur Poetik des Alimentären in Wolframs ‘Parzival’ (A. CLASSEN)______435 Scott G. Bruce, Cluny and the Muslims of La Garde-Freinet: Hagiography and the Problem of Islam in Medieval Europe (A. CLASSEN)______437 Iris Bunte, Der “Tristan” Gottfrieds von Straßburg und die Tradition der lateinischen Rhetorik: Tropen, Figuren und Topoi im höfischen Roman (A. CLASSEN)______438 Die Grafen von Lauffen am mittleren und unteren Neckar, hg. Christian Burkhart und Jörg Kreutz (A. WOLF)______440 Jutta Eming, Emotionen im ‘Tristan’: Untersuchungen zu ihrer Paradigmatik (A. CLASSEN)______442 Das Gerresheimer Evangeliar: eine spätottonische Prachthandschrift als Geschichtsquelle, hrsg. Klaus Gereon Beuckers, Beate Johlen-Budnik (C. M. GRAFINGER)______443 Christine Grieb, Schlachtenschilderungen in Historiographie und Literatur (1150–1230) (A. CLASSEN)______446 6 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

Philip Handyside, The Old French William of Tyre (S. LUCHITSKAYA)______447 A Catalogue of Western Book Illumination in the Fitzwilliam Museum and the Cambridge Colleges, Part III: France, ed. D. Jackson, N. Morgan, and S. Panayotova (S. G. BRUCE)______449 Money and the Church in Medieval Europe, 1000–1200: Practice, Morality and Thought, ed. Giles E.M. Gasper and Svein H. Gulbekk (H. KÜMPER)______450 Barbara Newman, Making Love in the Twelfth Century: “Letters of Two Lovers” in Context (R. J. CORMIER)______452 Natalia I. Petrovskaia, Medieval Welsh Perceptions of the Orient (A. BREEZE)__ 454 Dietmar Peschel, Wie soll ich das verstehen? Neun Vorträge über Verstehen, Edieren, Übersetzen mittelalterlicher Literatur (A. CLASSEN)______455 Pierre Monnet, ed., Bouvines 1214–2014: Histoire et mémoire d’une bataille / Eine Schlacht zwischen Geschichte und Erinnerung – Approches et comparaisons franco-allemandes / Deutsch-französische Ansätze und Vergleiche (W. C. JORDAN)______456 Julia Richter, Spiegelungen: Paradigmatisches Erzählen in Wolframs >Parzival< (A. CLASSEN)______458 The Second Crusade: Holy War on the Periphery of Latin Christendom (R. J. CORMIER)______460 Nancy Marie Brown, Ivory Vikings: The Mystery of the Most Famous Chessmen in the World and the Woman Who Made Them (W. SAYER)______463 Regina D. Schiewer (Hg.), Die Millstätter Predigten (R. LÜTZELSCHWAB)____ 464 Philipp Sutner, Stephan Köhler, Andreas Obenaus (Hgg.), Gott will es. Der Erste Kreuzzug – Akteure und Aspekte (P. GORIDIS)______467 Frauke Thielert, Paarformeln in mittelalterlichen Stadtrechtstexten (J. M. JEEP)__ 468 Benjamin van Well, Mir troumt hinaht ein troum: Untersuchungen zur Erzählweise von Träumen in mittelhochdeutscher Epik (A. CLASSEN)______471 Walter Map, Die unterhaltsamen Gespräche am englischen Königshof (A. CLASSEN)______472 Stephen Wheeler, ed., trans., Accessus ad auctores: Medieval Introductions to the Authors (Codex latinus monacensis 19475) (R. J. CORMIER)______474 Friedrich Wolfzettel, La poésie lyrique du Moyen Âge au Nord de la France (W. PFEFFER)______475 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 7

Spätmittelalter

700 Jahre Boccaccio: Traditionslinien vom Trecento bis in die Moderne, hg. Christa Bertelsmeier-Kierst und Rainer Stillers (A. CLASSEN)______477 Rolf Kießling, Frank Konersmann, and Werner Troßbach, Grundzüge der Agrargeschichte. Band 1. Vom Spätmittelalter bis zum Dreißigjährigen Krieg (1350–1650). Mit einem Beitrag von Dorothee Rippmann (D. NICHOLAS)_____ 478 Maria Luisa Ardizzone, Reading As the Angels Read: Speculation and Politics in Dante’s Banquet (F. ALFIE)______480 Arnaut de Vilanova, Über den Antichrist und die Reform der Christenheit (A. CLASSEN)______482 Andrew Colin Gow, Robert B. Desjardins, and François V. Pageau, ed. and trans., The Arras Witch Treatises (T. WILLARD)______483 Mittelenglische Artusromanzen; Sir Percyvell of Gales, The Awntyrs off Arthure, The Weddynge of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnell (A. BREEZE)______485 Die Autobiographie Karls IV. Vita Caroli Quarti (A. CLASSEN)______486 Gertrud Beck, Trojasummen: Das „Elsässische Trojabuch“ und die gedruckten Trojakompilationen (A. CLASSEN)______487 Bettina Full, Passio und Bild: Ästhetische Erfahrung in der italienischen Lyrik des Mittelalters und der Renaissance (A. CLASSEN)______488 Péter Bokody, Images-within-Images in Italian Painting (1250–1350): Reality and Reflexivity (A. SAND)______490 Stefan Fischer, Im Irrgarten der Bilder: Die Welt des Hieronymus Bosch (A. CLASSEN)______492 Christine Boßmeyer, Visuelle Geschichte in den Zeichnungen und Holzschnitten zum „Weißkunig“ Kaiser Maximilians I (C. M. GRAFINGER)______493 James M. Dean and Harriet Spiegel, eds., Geoffrey Chaucer, Troilus and Crisyede (J. M. HILL)______494 Pascal Vuillemin, Une itinérance prophétique: Le voyage en Perse d’Ambrogio Contarini (1474–1477) (A. CLASSEN)______496 The Vulgate Commentary on Ovid’s “Metamorphoses,” Book 1, ed. and translated by Frank T. Coulson (R. J. CORMIER)______498 Wiebke Deimann and David Juste, ed., Astrologers and their Clients in Medieval and Early Modern Europe (T. WILLARD)______499 Demetrios Kydones, Thomas Aquinas’s Summa Theologica in Greek Language, editio princeps, vol. XIX, ed. A. Glykofrydi-Leontsini and I. D. Spyralatos (G. ARABATZIS)______501 8 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

Andreas Kablitz, Ursula Peters (Hgg.), Mittelalterliche Literatur als Retextualisierung (R. LÜTZELSCHWAB)______503 Franziskus von Assissi, Sämtliche Schriften. Lateinisch/Deutsch (A. CLASSEN)_ 505 Guillebert De Mets, La description de la ville de Paris 1434: Medieval French Text with English Translation (M. SIZER)______506 Johannes Geiler von Kaysersberg (R. LÜTZELSCHWAB)______508 Gewalt und Widerstand in der politischen Kultur des späten Mittelalters (D. NICHOLAS)______511 Lena Glassmann, Die Berliner Herpin-Handschrift in der Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin (Ms. Germ. Fol. 464): Ein illustrierter Prosaroman des 15. Jahrhunderts (A. CLASSEN)______512 Milena Svec Goetschi, Klosterflucht und Bittgang. Apostasie und monastische Mobilität im 15. Jahrhundert (C. M. GRAFINGER)______514 Elisabeth Gruber, Raittung und außgab zum gepew: Kommunale Rechnungspraxis im oberösterreichischen Freistadt (G. JARITZ)______516 John of Morigny, Liber florum celestis doctrine / The Flowers of Heavenly Teaching (P. DINZELBACHER)______517 Katalog der Handschriften der Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Tirol in Innsbruck. Teil 9 (R. SCHMITZ-ESSER)______519 The King of Tars, ed. John H. Chandler (A. CLASSEN)______520 Philip Knäble, Eine tanzende Kirche. Initiation, Ritual und Liturgie im spätmittelalterlichen Frankreich (C. M. GRAFINGER)______521 Sebastian Kolditz, Johannes VIII. Palaiologos und das Konzil von Ferrara–Florenz (1438/39). Das byzantinische Kaisertum im Dialog mit dem Westen (U. ROTH)______524 Konrad von Würzburg, ‘Trojanerkrieg’ und die anonym überlieferte Fortsetzung (A. CLASSEN)______526 June L. Mecham, Sacred Communities, Shared Devotions: Gender, Material Culture, and Monasticism in Late Medieval Germany, ed. Alison Beach, Constance Berman, and Lisa Bitel (D. L. STOUDT)______527 Michelina di Cesare, Studien zu Paulinus Venetus. De Mapa mundi (T. HORST)_ 530 Annekathrin Miegel, Kooperation, Vernetzung, Erneuerung. Das benediktinische Verbrüderungs- und Memorialwesen vom 12. bis 15. Jahrhundert (H. HARTMANN)______532 Gregory Moule, Corporate Jurisdiction, Academic Heresy, and Fraternal Correction at the University of Paris: 1200–1400 (E. KUEHN)______533 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 9

Natalino Sapegno, A Literary History of the Fourteenth Century: Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio. A Study of Their Times and Works (Storia Letteraria del Trecento (A. CLASSEN)______536 Neidhart: Selected Songs from the Riedegg Manuscript (Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin – Preußischer Kulturbesitz, Ms. germ. fol. 1062) (A. CLASSEN)______536 Tom Nickson, Toledo Cathedral: Building Histories in Medieval Castile (C. A. STANFORD)______537 Nürnberg: Zur Diversifikation städtischen Lebens in Texten und Bildern des 15. und 16. Jahrhunderts, hrsg. Heike Sahm and Monika Schausten (A. CLASSEN)__ 540 Emily O’Brien, The Commentaries of Pope Pius II (1458–1464) and the Crisis of the Fifteenth-Century Papacy (A. CLASSEN)______542 William of Ockham, Dialogus (K. F. JOHANNES)______544 Die Lieder Oswalds von Wolkenstein (A. CLASSEN)______545 Pandemic Disease in the Medieval World: Rethinking the Black Death, ed. Monica H. Green (F. ALFIE)______546 Bettina Pfotenhauer, Nürnberg und Venedig im Austausch: Menschen, Güter und Wissen an der Wende vom Mittelalter zur Neuzeit (A. CLASSEN)______549 Regesten Kaiser Friedrichs III. (J. KEMPER)______551 Vincent Petitjean, Vies de Gilles de Rais (L. ROSS)______552 Bert Roest and Johanneke Uphoff, eds., Religious Orders and Religious Identity Formation, ca. 1420–1620 (R. LÜTZELSCHWAB)______554 Luisa Rubini Messerli, Boccaccio deutsch: Die Dekameron-Rezeption in der deutschen Literatur (15.-17. Jahrhundert) (A. CLASSEN)______557 Ralph A. Ruch, Kartographie und Konflikt im Spätmittelalter: Manuskriptkarten aus dem oberrheinischen und schweizerischen Raum (T. HORST)______559 Papier im mittelalterlichen Europa. Herstellung und Gebrauch (H. BERWINKEL)_ 561 Reichtum im späten Mittelalter. Politische Theorie- Ethische Norm-Soziale Akzeptanz (B. LUNDT)______564 Katharina Seidel, Textvarianz und Textstabilität. Studien zur Transmission der Ívens saga, Erex saga und Parcevals saga (W. SCHÄFKE)______566 Karl-Heinz Spieß, Familie und Verwandtschaft im deutschen Hochadel des Spätmittelalters (D. NICHOLAS)______568 Elisabeth Sulzer, Darmgesundheit im Mittelalter: Analyse ausgewählter deutschsprachiger Kochrezepte aus dem Münchener Arzneibuch Cgm 415 vor dem Hintergrund der Humoralmedizin und Versuch einer kritischen Bewertung im Lichte moderner pharmakologischer Erkenntnisse (A. CLASSEN)______571 10 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

Petrus W. Tax, Der Münchener Psalter aus dem 14. Jahrhundert. Eine Bearbeitung von Notkers Psalter (H. HARTMANN)______572 Die Handschriften der Thüringer Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Jena. Band III: Die mittelalterlichen französischen Handschriften der Electoralis- Gruppe; mittelalterliche Handschriften weiterer Signaturreihen (Abschluss) (J. FÜHRER)______573 Universität und Kloster: Melk als Hort der Wissenschaftspflege im Bannkreis der Universität Wien – fruchtbarer Austausch seit 650 Jahren, hg. Meta Niederkorn- Bruck (A. CLASSEN)______575 Jeffrey F. Hamburger and Nigel F. Palmer, The Prayer Book of Ursula Begerin: Art-Historical and Literary Introduction (A. CLASSEN)______576 Alberto Varvaro. La tragédie de l’histoire: la dernière œuvre de Froissart (C. BRATU)______578 Venezia e la nuova oikoumene Cartografia del Quattrocento. Venedig und die neue Oikoumene Karthographie im 15. Jahrhundert, hrsg. von Ingrid Baumgärtner und Pietro Falchetta (C. M. GRAFINGER)______580 Olaf Wagener, Eva Cichy und Martin Vomhof, Hrsg., Grenze, Landwehr, Burgen. Das nördliche Siegerland im Mittelalter und in der Frühen Neuzeit (C. GALLE)__ 582 Laura Weigert, French Visual Culture and the Making of Medieval Theater (M. CRUSE)______585 Antje Willing, ed., Das ‚Konventsbuch‘ und das ‚Schwesternbuch‘ aus St. Katharina in St. Gallen. Kritische Edition und Kommentar (H. KÜMPER)____ 588 Birgit Zacke, Wie Tristan sich einmal in einer Wildnis verirrte: Bild-Text- Beziehungen im ‘Brüsseler Tristan’ (A. CLASSEN)______589 Die Zunft zwischen historischer Forschung und musealer Repräsentation. Beiträge der Tagung im Germanischen Nationalmuseum 30 (H. KÜMPER)______591 10.3726/271583_207 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 207

Inti Athanasios Yanes-­Fernandez

Poetics of Dreams: Cultural/Narrative Meaning of Dream-­Chronotope in Geoffrey Chaucer’s the House of Fame and Calderón de la Barca’s La vida es sueño

“…que estoy soñando, y que quiero obrar bien, pues no se pierde obrar bien, aun entre sueños.” Segimundo (La vida es sueño) “That alway for to slepe hir wone is— And to this god, that I of rede, Preye I, that he wol me spede My sweven for to telle aright, If every dreem stonde in his might.” Chaucer (The House of Fame) Sleep and dream visions as revelations, narrative devices, signs of illness, and aesthetic-­ artistic formulae alongside their interpretations, are common experiences shared by all cultures throughout the ages. They exhibit an astonishing variety of contexts and meanings. Rather than abstract time, with its mathematical indistinctness, a dialectical concreteness of signs and symbols in culture determines the specificity and character of dream experience and its complex hermeneutic. Consequently, dreams and dream theories have a very distinct history. Old and New Testamentary narratives, mystic and prophetic revelations such as Jacob’s dream at Bethel (Genesis 28:10–17) and Saint John’s Book of Revelation (ca. C.E. 70),1 Aelius Aristides’s Sacred Tales (C.E. 130–171)2 and Artemidorus’s Oneirokritika (ca. C.E. 100), Hindu and Buddhist references linked to creation processes,3 Old English literary testimonies of dream visions such as The Dream of the Rood (ca. C.E. 650),4 and medieval poems like William Langland’s Piers Plowman (ca. 1376–87),5 among many others, gravitate around the phe- nomena of sleep and dreams, either as metaphysical theophanies proper or just as allegori- cal devices. In connection with that, a long history of literary genres and narratives paved the way for this subgenre until its final appearance as a medieval literary form: Although the dream vision reached the peak of its popularity during the 13th and 14th cen- turies, the literary genre’s biblical origins (in the Book of Daniel) contributed to its appeal, through the dream vision’s prophetic nature and the suggestion of direct access to the divine. The dream vision made its first appearance in Anglo-Saxon­ England in the 8th century, fol- lowed by the Old English ‘The Dream of the Rood,’ with which J. Stephen Russell claims, 208 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

‘the full complexity and ambivalence of the form reappears’; however, it is not until the 12th century, with The Romance of the Rose … that the genre fully assumes the form of the dream vision commonly associated with the medieval period.6 In the present work, I aim at tracing the specific semantic-narrative­ function and the mani- fold significance of the dream-chronotope­ in Calderón de la Barca’s La vida es sueño7 and Chaucer’s House of Fame8. I attempt to shed some light on the relationship of each piece with its socio-historical­ context, in order to show how the dream-chronotope­ can have at least three main functions in the diegetic structure of the play: 1. Prophetical heterosubjective space of aletheuein or unconcealment of truth relatively outside the hegemonic socio-political­ setting that gives the norm of the “properly real” (this function we call here prophetical heterosubjective); 2. Locus of symbolic reconstruction or affirmation of a reality in decline and paradigm-­ shifting transformation (intranarrative ontopoetic function); and, 3. Symbolic-transcendental­ resolution to ultimate onto-epistemic­ contradictions (meta- narrative ontopoetic function); a resolution impossible to achieve either in the hetero- subjective or in the intranarrative functions mentioned above. Narrative discourse can display these semantic functions because in the essence of lan- guage we find the property of “showing” and of allegorein9 in the sense of speaking of another thing through what the signified thingis not. The showing that, as an essential form of saying, appears alongside a structure that allows the emergence of meaning in the act of linguistic significance as language becomes a character of the world. This structure was called by Martin Heidegger the “rift-design.”­ In his words: “Let the unity in the essence of language that we are seeking be called the rift-design.­ The name calls upon us to describe more clearly what is proper to the essence of language… is the drawing of the essence of language, the well-joined­ structure of the showing…”10 Because the essence of language is this unity that brings things into unconcealment, Sagen and Zeigen are always also a part of this process of meaning: “Yet what is it we call saying? To experience this, we shall hold to what our language itself calls on us to think in this word. Sagen means to show, to let something appear, let it be seen and heard.”11 Yet, what is the relationship between language and dream? Why should all this be per- tinent for us? The point is that, without language as “rift-design”­ that comes along with Sagen und Zeigen, it would be impossible for the dream vision to be granted a narrative rendition. Actually, all form of revelation takes place necessarily in the field of language, and it can be shown only as far as what comes “from above” as revelation matter can also be attuned with the meaning structure of language as a “rift-design”­ that comes along with the phenomena of Sagen and Zeigen. These semantic attributes conform language’s sym- bolic dimension. In this symbolic dimension as semantic possibility, language shows its essence in close co-dwelling­ with the essence of man as homo symbolicus. Hans-­Georg Gadamer recognizes this relationship when he states that: “Ernst Cassirer hat in seiner Philosophie der Symbolischen Formen innerhalb der kritizistischen Philosophie einen Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 209

Weg zur Anerkennung dieser außerwissenschaftlichen Formen der Wahrheit gebahnt… Was aber ist die Poesie je anderes als eben eine solche Darstellung einer Welt, in der sich ein selber unweltliches Wahres bekundet.”12 The “unweltliches Wahres” as the unconceal- ment of the divine in the poetic is present in the prophetical heterosubjective function of dream-chronotope­ in the House of Fame but it is totally absent in La vida es sueño, where what is revealed in dreams can be ultimate and essential, but it is always taking place in Segismundo’s subjectivity.

Language and Societal Context

Thus, we start from two basic principles: 1. Language is a semantic dynamis, in other words, we emphasize the essential possibility of language to become symbol, allegory and metaphor of extra-linguistic­ (spiritual, intellectual, social, psychological…) facts; and 2. Social and historic events can be metaphorized into literary texts via an aesthetic artistic conversion that encompasses both complex relationships between creator and context as well as between creator and work. In this sense, the literary work –as in general any cultural product- can be understood, although only within certain limits, as a sort of indirect and rather complicated interpretation of the socio-historic­ context. Language becomes showing to the extent that it gives place to a semantic plus, where the linear becomes parabolic and the basic meaning becomes symbolic and allegorical. Thus, although the hermeneutical subject is not logically allowed to “read” in the semantic structures whatsoever arbitrarily, it is possible to exercise a multidimensional hermeneutic inasmuch as the text appears factually and semantically connected to a manifold complex- ity of outer references and intertextualities. Through a symbolic-allegorical­ construction (Troilus’ apotheosis and Criseyde’s weakness, etc.) based on mystical patterns, Chaucer interprets the decay of England (more specifically of Richard II’s court) as a result of the oblivion of its Christian identity and the overvaluing of the classical tradition. He also recalls the urgency of recovering the remembrance of its cultural-ontological­ origins as well as its moral consistency: full reconciliation with God in history. For instance, although not as explicitly as in Troilus and Criseyde and The Clerk’s Tale, Chaucer’s references to the classical world through allegories and invocations, as well as his depiction of the contradictions and frivolity in Fame’s abode and the Column of Fame, represent an affirmation of Christianity against a tradition whose contribution to Western culture was not unknown to him but was not to be overpraised, and whose disproportionate cultivation by means of allegories and literary devices had necessarily to lead to frivolity in life and vanity in speech. His appropriation of this classical tradition was not then like in Dante’s Divine Comedy (1308–1320) or Petrarch’s Il Canzoniere (ca. 1327–1368). Ac- tually it can be said that the conflation of pleas and prayers to pagan gods alongside sincere Christian prayers and invocations to God in medieval and early modern literature does not entail necessarily a contradiction. 210 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

The combination of Christian and pagan imaginaries was a common medieval strategy, and it was not considered to be in any way heretical. Invocation of pagan gods was assumed by a Christian audience to be only an allegory or a literary device. In this sense, it was entirely acceptable to write poems praising the pagan “goddess of love” or “god of sleep.” This is an important reason why poets used their license to pay homage to the classical tradition in their poetry; paradoxically, it was a safer practice than criticizing or openly questioning official Catholic theology, which would immediately be deemed as heresy. This is not true only for medieval and early modern literature and all its imaginary. Many later authors continued making ample use of this classical-world­ imagery to convey deeper and entirely “modern” meanings. Johann W. Goethe, Friedrich Schiller, Friedrich Hölder- lin, and Rainer M. Rilke13 are examples of this. Even in Martin Heidegger’s post-­Being and Time rhetoric references to “the gods” to convey the idea of the Sacred are to be found.14 It is clear that in the House of Fame, as in other later works, Chaucer’s approach to this issue is always ironic, never candid; always critically committed, never naïve and con- cessional. Nevertheless, his satiric vein never prevents him from being at the same time a convinced Christian and a scathing critical of classical models belonging to a non Christian past. To accomplish that, or rather as a logical result of it, he engages in a more or less ironic and serious critique of the idealized pre-Christian­ classical tradition as well as of some of the common ontological, aesthetic and moral grounds upon which this hermeneutic was built. In this sense poetic writing, the problem of art creation and aesthetic judgment, along- side the more essential question of the criterion of Truth, are in the main focus of Chaucer’s deconstructive approach in The House of Fame: Though the movement patterns in the House of Fame are complex, they unite the poem. The House of Fame is primarily a self-reflexive­ poem, drawing readers’ attention to fundamental issues of art. Poetry is essentially concerned with fame and communication. As in other dream visions, however, there is no guarantee of discovery, and when moments of epiphany come upon the dreamer, they are inherently ambiguous. Both the House of Fame and the House of Tidings have equivocal relationships to Truth. Truth may be heeded or ignored.15 Meanwhile, Calderón de la Barca is one of the most authorized speakers, on the one hand, of the beginning of Spain’s destabilization as a world power; and on the other, like Chaucer in the late Middle Ages but in an opposite direction, of the falling apart of the medieval-­ Renaissance construction of an objective reality clearly perceived and rationalized by the human being and “reproduced” via aesthetic-artistic­ artifice in representational structures, like perspective in painting, harmony in choral music, and logic in metaphysics. As for the socio-historic­ reflection process in literature, I prefer to quote Stephen Mill- er’s approach to the notion of “generación” in the light of the “realism vs. naturalism” controversy in French-Hispanic­ literary tradition. Quoting and commenting upon José Or- tega y Gasset, Miller states: “Desde su exilio argentino, Ortega escribió en 1940 sobre el concepto y significación de las generaciones […] Ortega cree que ‘no se puede partir de un autor y de su obra’ aisladamente porque ‘ellos mismos –autor y obra- no partieron tampoco de sí propios, sino que son ya reacción –positiva y negativa- a la forma de vida que en tor- no encontraron’ (370).”16 The dialectical relationship between author and socio-historical­ Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 211 context becomes essential to understand the functionality of the aesthetic-artistic­ artefact as a chronotope of an always reinterpreted emergence (a kind of hermeneutic-reproductive­ openness) of the social circumstance. José Ortega y Gasset referred to this process even in his earliest writings, becoming one of the most important theoretical axioms throughout his work. The Spanish thinker, high- lighting this context-individual­ interaction, affirms: “Yo soy yo y mi circunstancia, y si no la salvo a ella no me salvo yo. Benefac loco illi quo natus es, leemos en la Biblia. Y en la escuela platónica se nos da como empresa de toda cultura, esta: «salvar las apariencias», los fenómenos. Es decir, buscar el sentido de lo que nos rodea.”17

Mikhail Bakhtin and the Chronotope. Pre-­Literary and Literary Meaning

We must refer now more concretely to the notion of chronotope in order to identify its origin and delimit the usage we make of it in our study. What do we understand here by chronotope in literature? First, we follow the known definition provided by M. Bakhtin in his foundational essay “Forms of Time and the Chronotope in the Novel.”18 Bakhtin gives the following definition: Chronotope is the intrinsic connectedness of spatial and temporal relationships that are artis- tically expressed in literature. It expresses the inseparability of space and time (time as the fourth dimension of space). In the literary artistic chronotope, spatial and temporal indicators are fused into one carefully thought-out,­ concrete whole […] The chronotope in literature has an intrinsic generic significance… It can even be said that it is precisely the chronotope that defines genre and generic distinctions… The chronotope as a formally constitutive category determines to a significant degree the image of man in literature. The image of man is always intrinsically chronotopic.”19 This first definition leads us to an essential notion: chronotope in literature- means“ar tistic assimilation.” Artistic assimilation of what? Of time and space, yet not as pure mind categories (Kant) but as forms of reality itself. Bakhtin explains: we employ the Kantian evaluation of the importance of these forms in the cognitive process, but differ from Kant in taking them not as “transcendental,” but as forms of the most immediate reality.”20 The notion of chronotope originated as a non-literary­ category; more concretely, in its origins it is connected to positive sciences, especially mathematics, physics and biology. Bakhtin himself makes this clear when he recognizes that “This term [space-time]­ is em- ployed in mathematics, and was introduced as part of Einstein’s Theory of Relativity.”21 He also points out to the scientific usage of the term, mentioning A. A. Ukhtomski’s dis- sertation on the chronotope in Biology in the summer of 1925.22 However, the importance of this category as applied to literary studies does not lie in this scientific element, but rather in the fact that “we are borrowing it for literary criticism al- most as a metaphor (almost, but not entirely). What counts for us is the fact that it expresses the inseparability of space and time (time as the fourth dimension of space).”23 On the basis of these details it is possible then to access to a more accurate and wholesome definition of 212 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 the phenomenical area in which the chronotope is placed in Bakhtin’s theoretical-literary­ thought: “We understand the chronotope as a formally constitutive category of literature; we will not deal with the chronotope in other areas of culture.)”24 In this sense, chronotope is understood as a dialectical unity of the elements that con- stitute the spatial and temporal dimensions of the work as a result of the assimilation in it, as a literary phenomenon, of these structures belonging to the realm of the real, that is to the way of being and of operating of history itself as an encompassing and multidimensional phenomenon. This takes place in a way such that the chronotope actually becomes the element that determines the genre itself of the literary creation. For this reason it has a sub- stantial generic importance in literature, to the point that it can be concretely said that genre and its varieties are determined by the chronotope.25 Thus, summarizing Bakhtin’s concept on Chronotope, Philippe Lorino distinguishes, Four ideas that we deem useful to analyze the organizing process: • the spatial and temporal frames of a narrative are closely integrated and make up one unique “spatial-temporal”­ frame (chronotope), • the spatial/temporal frame of a narrative plays a key role in the production of meaning and sense, • the chronotope of the narrative is closely linked with certain value systems, classes of identity (professional / organizational / cultural identities) and generic characters, • the chronotope of the narrative relates its interpretation by a reader, a spectator, or a researcher with the historic, social and cultural setting in which it is interpreted.26

The Chronotope Appropriation in the Work. The “Dream-Chronotope”­ in the House of Fame and La vida es sueño

We are now in a position to define how we understand the category of chronotope in the current essay. Actually, we do not focus our attention on the generic (genre-determining)­ dimension of the chronotope. In other words, we do not analyze the ways in which La vida es sueño and the House of Fame are concrete instances of a given literary genre (poetry, drama, dramatic poetry, theater, etc.), or how the structures of the events taking place in them determine specific subgenres such as realistic drama, symbolic-allegoric­ drama, Aus- bildungsroman, and so forth. We are rather interested here in investigating the meaning and function, i.e. the conceptual-narrative­ role of the chronotope having both formal and content dimensions in the above mentioned works. We call the phenomenon of “dreams,” as a meaningful conflation of time-space,­ the “dream-chronotope.”­ In this context, dreams have an immediate impact on the diegetic level of the works, insofar as they are an aesthetic assimilation27 as well as a symbolic affirmation or reconstruction of their socio-historic­ and epistemological setting. In fact, the formal determination of the dream-chronotope­ in each of these works varies according to their contextual relationships and their specific way of assimilating, mimicking and reconstructing the social setting through allegorical and aesthetic rhetorical devices. In- deed, the idea of the dream vision as a narrative space having symbolic-allegorical­ meaning and supplying an artificial space intended to provide the narrator with a substitutive device Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 213 that makes possible something otherwise impossible in the social reality is not new in itself. In reference to the dream functionality in one of Chaucer’s works, Dana M. Symons states that: “In the case of Chaucer’s Book of the Duchess, one of the chief models for Com- playnte, the use of the dream enables the face-to-face­ encounter between the narrator and the grieving knight, in effect ‘creating an imaginative space in which they can converse on relatively equal terms, as perhaps they could not properly have been represented as doing in waking life’ due to their differing social stations.”28 Concretely, as we will see more in detail later, each dream-chronotope­ exists in a dif- ferent context and functions differently as well. These contexts have, despite being dif- ferent, two general elements in common: first, the decay and de-construction­ of once-fixed­ paradigms (artistic, aesthetic, political…) of global reference in culture (A) and second, a specific onto-epistemological­ interpretation of the Being of beings (B). The conflation of A and B brings about a different structure alongside a different function of the dream-­ chronotope in each work. In other words, the dream-chronotope­ variation of structure and function in each work is a function itself of the specific way in which the elements A and B become conflated in the cultural experience and assimilated in the works; the different form of the dream-chronotope­ responds and is directly proportional to the different ways in which A and B conflate in each cultural-historical­ moment. Thus, two general principles, as for the dream-chronotope’s­ structure itself, can be de- fined here. First, in the case of Calderón de la Barca, the conflation of Charles II’s court’s degradation with the baroque open and mirror-like­ interpretation of phenomena (as a transient reflection, a mere moment of an all-encompassing­ subjectivity) bring about the structural constitution of the dream-chronotope­ as a metasubjective space, transcending the subject’s perceptual horizons and determining on its own the form of subjectivity pre- vailing in the play instead of being determined by it. In other words, the dream-­chronotope is not shaped here as image and likeness of the dreaming subject, but the dreaming subject at some point realizes that Reality itself is of the same nature of dreams, and that that is unchangeable, a fate. This is the reason why we speak here of the heterosubjective dream-­ chronotope. Second, in Chaucer’s case, on the contrary, the combination of the decay of Richard II’s court, against the background of the objectivity of Aristotelian scholasticism from the Cath- olic tradition (which provided a clear and well-defined­ onto-epistemological­ distinction between the “real-objective”­ and the “real-subjective”),­ as well as Chaucer’s critical self-­ consciousness determined by the necessity of questioning essential artistic aesthetic and political issues of his time, create a dream-chronotope­ with a very different structure and narrative functionality. The narrator was able to speak from the dream-locus­ without losing his reference to the vigil-chronotope­ because, no matter how deep the cultural and political crisis of his epoch’s paradigm shift, the possibility of distinguishing thinking subject from thought object was still guaranteed by the epistemic structure of late medieval culture. Additionally, in this context dream-literature­ tradition came also to guarantee a discursive locus from which to –even ironically- criticize central hegemonic paradigms. 214 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

In crossroad with Christian mysticism, for Chaucer the scholastic threefold device of grammar, rhetoric and logic proves insufficient to discern truth form false, and to disclose something that cannot be discovered by means of common sense or intuition.29 Actually, in the House of Fame some room is left to logic as a way to discover things, but logic is to be discarded as soon as it becomes evident that it cannot provide absolute epistemological certainty.30 According to Wilson, Chaucer -besides the “ostensible purpose of the poem”- aims to criticize the very essence of the scholastic theory of knowledge, and to clearly dis- tinguish and separate poetry from logic.31 In reference to Chaucer’s use of the scholastic epistemological system and especially logic in the poem, William S. Wilson points out that: “The emphasis must be shifted from the journey for tidings of love […] to the three dis- parate episodes […] The three episodes demonstrate the three linguistic arts of the Middle Ages, the Trivium. Book I illustrates the techniques of medieval grammatica on the ideal illustration of grammar, the Aeneid, book II illustrates the techniques of Ciceronian per- suasive rhetoric on a relevant science, the physics of sound; and book III, I will argue in this paper, illustrates the techniques of medieval logic on a medieval dialectician, the goddess of Fame.”32 Furthermore, dream vision guarantees some sort of tradition-based­ authority to the dreamer, while simultaneously morphs him into a neutral vision-conveyer,­ which certainly facilitates his critique and questioning of essential issues of his time. In this case, dream is a product of subjectivity, of the concrete particular subjectivity of the dreaming subject (the narrator himself) and, although having metaphysical significance, the dream-chronotope­ here has a rather preeminent epistemological and political meaning. It reflects facts through the dreaming subject, and therefore it is posed by this subject as his image and likeness in the sense that it takes place in the area of the subject’s subjectivity; dream-vision’s­ con- tent, however, remains transcendent to this subjectivity as far as it is revealed and granted by an external agent. The chronotope that responds to the condition of being produced and shaped by human subjectivity and that, in terms of form, does not transcend the area of the subject’s subjectivity, we call here the “homosubjective dream-chronotope.”­ In the House of Fame, the dream-chronotope­ works as a way of supplying a space of deconstruction and truthful utterance, disclosure, and objectivity of knowledge against the contextual social, cultural, and onto-epistemic­ disintegration of once well-established­ utopias or hermeneutical paradigms determining specific world-interpretations­ and cul- tural ideals, essentially superfluous and meaningless. In Calderón’s La vida es sueño, on the contrary, the dream-chronotope­ warrants the mediation needed by the individual as innerworldliness in order to be able to reach full self-consciousness.­ It has a primary self-­ cognitive function. As such, it appears in opposition to a world where real identities are being shifted by external and also self-alienating­ powers. Thus, through dream or in the dream-chronotope,­ Segismundo acquires prophetical certainty of his royal nature as heir to the throne and, most importantly, he becomes free in a twofold way: he renounces to his will to power and accepts his father’s kingship, and he also recovers the experience of an existential meaning in his purely ethical com- mitment with the good as it appears in the innermost of his moral consciousness. In this Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 215 sense, unlike Chaucer, the intradiegetic dream-chronotope­ has in Calderón a function that is preeminently self-cognitive­ and therefore epistemological, playing nevertheless an im- portant secondary role as a space of enunciation of political circumstances that it would be otherwise inconvenient to straightforwardly convey to society, so to say, while completely awake. Actually, it is important to point out here to a specific complexity of the dream-chronotope­ in La vida es sueño. Albeit, as stated by Ann Chalmers Watts,33 in Chaucer’s work in gen- eral the distinction between dream and vigil chronotopes, or between narrator and author, varies considerably, it is nonetheless evident that this distinction is almost always clear and consistent with the homosubjective dream-chronotope­ paradigm. In other words, a total identity between dream and narrative subjectivity is predominant (the dream-chronotope­ never extends beyond narrative subjectivity), and chronotopes of vigil and dream are never identical. In Calderón this relationship is more complex. In La vida es sueño, while author and narrator remain always totally differentiated –farther, actually, than we can see in Chaucer-, the dream-chronotope­ behaves in an entirely contrasting way and has two different meanings: there is one individual / psychological (what we call here the homosubjective dream-chronotope),­ and another general / ontological (that we call metasubjective dream-­ chronotope). In narrative terms this means that we find an intradiegetic dream-chronotope­ which is the narrative morphology of Segismundo’s dream. Yet, in his dream Segismundo reaches again the limit of his own subjectivity seeking after objective answers to the ques- tions of what is the real, how to understand man’s and world’s nature and what the relation- ship between liberty and necessity is. Approaching the limit of his own subjectivity means, at the same time, reaching the limits of his self-consciousness­ by acquiring an essential knowledge: the knowledge of himself, of world’s worldliness, and of the nature of beings. Paradoxically enough, Segismundo reaches the truth by mediation of the dream-­ chronotope. And the reason seems simple: Segismundo discovers that the substance of the real (in the sense of an objective, “non-self”­ world) cannot be boiled down into something different from subjective perceptions and dream as the most peculiar form of represen- tation. This means the impossibility of reaching any certainty both in rational and empirical knowledge. Therefore, only in the dream-chronotope­ can take place Segismundo’s proper awaking and truth awareness. This epistemological process responds to the baroque (Span- ish, Catholic) imago mundi, and is held sway over by the semantic narrative structure of the heterosubjective dream-chronotope.­ Here, dream becomes ontological and metasubjective as a horizon that transcends the subject itself. Dream is all. Returning to Chaucer, three of the ideals (possible cultural fictional statements) decon- structed in the House of Fame are the worthiness of social recognition as source of personal fulfilment; the privileged role of the poet as source of a truthful, god-inspired­ discourse; and the idealization of Greece and Rome as authoritative cultural paradigms over the Chris- tian tradition. Obviously, to be listened to, Chaucer had to make public his insights in a way acceptable to his contemporaries. For this aim the dream-vision­ structure is a reliable rhetorical device because it provides the necessary distance between a “pre-oneiric”­ and 216 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 an “intra-oneiric”­ narrator, and it appeals to a higher-than-human­ principle to support its authority. A leading principle is the essential functional relationship that exists between the dramatic-narrative­ strategies followed by an author in order to produce determined effects on his potential audience or readers, and the deconstruction and disintegration of social and cultural patterns. Basically, the more radical the paradigm shift and the common reference-­ framework deconstruction, the more radical also the dramatic-narrative­ variation regarding the dominant aesthetic-artistic­ canon or, as an alternative, the more radical the usage of some semantic-narrative­ resources to express the new situation in a symbolic-allegorical­ form, as the dream-chronotope­ in Chaucer’s and Calderón’s plays. In Chaucer’s work, dream-chronotope­ constitutes one of the framing dimensions of the narrative development. It is the framework in which the essential content-matter­ continuum of the work emerges as such. The dream-chronotope­ provides in this way a metatextual setting where the text, the narrated story and the narrative tissue, fabula and sujet, come to exist. The exact date mark (“The tenthe day [dide] of Decembre”) means here at the same time the narrator’s nearness to the dream event as his own dream (“The which, as I can now remember…”) and his separation from it as something already happened in the past that needs to be remembered, i.e., re-called­ to the present in order to be told. In other words, by this rhetorical device the narrator indicates that the dream event formally is part of his sub- jectivity, immanent to it (it is his dream) and at the same time, as per the content, the dream event lies beyond his subjectivity, transcendent to it. It is not something just “made up” but received as a vision, as a revelation: “So wonderful a dreem as I/The tenthe day [dide] of Decembre,/The which, as I can now remembre,/I wol yow tellen every del.”34 Dream itself is part of the poem content only to the extent of being the factual (both in the sense of the fabula and the main story) setting where the sujet as such becomes unfolded from the perspective of vigil. The implied narrator narrates the dreamt content only insofar as he is actually awake, i.e. “not dreaming” while telling the story. He knows that he is not dreaming, and no further proof is needed to be certain of it. Thus, the dream-chronotope­ has an ontological-narrative­ connective function, inasmuch as it links together the narrator’s vigil-based­ world and the intra-oneiric­ narrative chain of events that constitute the main sujet. That is why the author “wol make invocacion, / With special devocion, / Unto the god of slep anoon, / That duelleth in a cave of stoon / Upon a strem that cometh fro Lete,” to help him tell the dream “aright,” because he is speaking now from outside the borders of the dream-chronotope­ and therefore the fragility of human memory might well come to betray him: Unto the god of slepe anoon […], That dwelleth in a cave of stoon Upon a streem that comth fro Lete, That is a flood of helle unswete; Besyde a folk men clepe Cimerie, Ther slepeth ay this god unmerie With his slepy thousand sones That alway for to slepe hir wone is— Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 217

And to this god, that I of rede, Preye I, that he wol me spede My sweven for to telle aright, If every dreem stonde in his might.35 On the contrary, in La vida es sueño the oneiric element is neither primarily a narrative category nor a symbolic intradiegetic topos where the fabula flows and a special revelation is made. Segismundo’s sleep, along with his dream and the opium he drinks, becomes at once adjuvant36 for the development of the fabula as part of the king’s strategy to approach Segismundo’s rage, most probably moved by mixed feelings of fear and paternal mercy. This at least seems to be a logical interpretation of Basilio’s words while contemplating his sleeping / dreaming son:

¡Ay, príncipe desdichado, y en triste punto nacido! Llega a despertarle, ya que fuerza y vigor perdió esos lotos que bebió.37

But more than that, as in Andrea del Pozo’s frescoes, dream as a form of delusional “mind-­ reality” (or even “perception-­perceptum”) identity is here essentially the very matter of the work in a primarily ontological way, in the sense of a meta-content­ even more fundamental than the fabula itself and its aesthetic-artistic­ setting-into-work.­ In fact, we hear Clotaldo say to Segismundo:

Si sabes que tus desdichas, Segismundo, son tan grandes, 320 que antes de nacer moriste por ley del cielo; si sabes que aquestas prisiones son de tus furias arrogantes un freno que las detenga 325 y una rienda que las pare, ¿por qué blasonas? La puerta cerrad desa estrecha cárcel; escondelde en ella.38

Segismundo’s desdichas have a metaphysical origin; they are primarily the consequence of the futility of human existence: “… que antes de nacer moriste…,” which is meanwhile the root of the onto-epistemological­ ambiguity between reality and dream as a form of delusion. Furthermore, the onto-epistemological­ dimension of the dream-chronotope­ ap- pears more clearly as a literary mark also in Clotaldo’s inability to distinguish reality from delusional dream:

¡Válgame el cielo! ¿Qué escucho? 395 Aun no sé determinarme si tales sucesos son ilusiones o verdades. 218 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

[…] Pues ¿qué he de hacer, ¡ay de mí!, 405 en confusión semejante, si quien la trae por favor para su muerte la trae, pues que sentenciado a muerte llega a mis pies? ¡Qué notable 410 confusión! ¡Qué triste hado! ¡Qué suerte tan inconstante!

This element has an immediate relationship with what Navarro González called “el tal- ante trágico de Calderón,” implying that the dream-like­ senselessness of life constitutes an essential part of its tragic condition. This tragic condition of life, however, as Nav- arro González also indicates, finds another no less essential source: the universal mutual opposition of all beings. In Navarro’s words: “Innecesario nos parece también recordar que Calderón dramatizó poéticamente como nadie la vida como sueño, representación o frenesí. Creo, sin embargo, que para comprender el trágico talante de Calderón que nutre comedias y autos, hay que tener en cuenta también, y sobre todo, su concepción de la universal exist- encia como lucha concertada.”39 Opposition is understood here as the natural way by which beings exist in contradictory harmony. For this reason, in the Act II of La vida es sueño (auto sacramental), Poder addresses the four elements with the following words: Oíd que no por eso cesa Vuestro campal desafío […] Y, aunque enemigo no os quiero Tampoco no os quiero amigos Y que, amigos y enemigos, Duréis conformes y opuestos Lo que duraren los siglos.40 This universal struggle must be recognized also as particularly present in human life under the form of the opposition between liberty and necessity;41 between the self-referential­ con- sciousness and the “objective” world. This struggle is also already visible in Segismundo, who continuously hesitates about whether he will be able to be free beyond the determinist force of destiny, and whether he is actually dreaming or not, or rather either fell into a deep sleep or remains in a state of vigil: “¿Que quizá soñando estoy, / aunque despierto me veo?/ No sueño, pues toco y creo / lo que he sido y lo que soy.”42 However, in the horizon of the baroque subjectivity one of the most characteristic features is the ultimate impossibility of rationally discerning between the subjective (self-centered)­ and the objec- tive (thing-centered)­ moment inside the world framework. Everything becomes subsumed under a continuum of consciousness, in a “perpetual canon” that embraces all that exists and interprets the Being of beings as having the same nature than perception, that is than the subjectivity of the subject. The “Cartesian solution” is somehow the post-baroque­ mark of Descartes’s thought. Gottfried Leibniz, David Hume, George Berkeley, and Immanuel Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 219

Kant, for instance, in different ways deny the existence of material entities or substances (Kant’s “noumenon” is a sort of ghost “reality,” more a not being than a being itself) and therefore cannot go beyond the horizon of a phenomenology of subjectivity. From this moment on, the blurring effect between dream- and vigil-chronotope­ increases to the extent that Segismundo, sunken in confusion, takes dream for reality in the paroxysm of contradiction. Nevertheless, he seems to be totally self-conscious­ and aware of his state of spirit and his identity, whereas still wandering adrift in the middle of his dream’s dark night:

¡Válgame el cielo, qué veo! ¡Válgame el cielo, qué miro! 240 Con poco espanto lo admiro, con mucha duda lo creo. ¿Yo en palacios suntuosos? ¿Yo entre telas y brocados? ¿Yo cercado de criados 245 tan lucidos y briosos? […] Pero sea lo que fuere, ¿quién me mete en discurrir? 260 Dejarme quiero servir, y venga lo que viniere.43

Ironically, the all-pervading­ contradictoriness of being produces at the same time two op- posite dramatic effects depending on whether it is situated before or after Segismundo’s an- agnorisis and acceptation of the state of things in the first place, before the grand meditation in the monologue “Qué es la vida…,” this onto-contradictoriness­ is a source of anguish and despair as a result of the awareness of being condemned by destiny to an obscure tower that is symbol both of daze of mind as lacking of both physical and spiritual freedom. Thus, we hear this monologue, doubtlessly one of the most important of Calderón’s production:

¡Ay mísero de mí! ¡Y ay infelice! […] aunque si nací, ya entiendo qué delito he cometido. Bastante causa ha tenido vuestra justicia y rigor; 110 pues el delito mayor del hombre es haber nacido. […] ¿Qué ley, justicia o razón negar a los hombres sabe privilegio tan süave, excepción tan principal, 170 que Dios le ha dado a un cristal, a un pez, a un bruto y a un ave?44 220 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

Nevertheless, after Segismundo’s anagnorisis and acceptation –which takes place gradually through contradictions during the whole piece- of the impossibility of properly knowing something beyond the horizon of his particular subjectivity, contradictoriness becomes a decisive identity, orthopraxis and self-fulfillment:­ Segismundo essentially understands that, when dream and vigil, subjectivity and objectivity, wholeness and particularity, certainty and hesitation are one and the same, then the only two possibilities left create an existential dilemma: either to act by complying with our consciousness’s inner law or just dying. What must be pointed out here is the fact that only the dream-­chronotope as self-cognitive­ space provides the necessary self-mediating­ distance to acquire this groundbreaking knowledge: all is dream. From here springs out the sense of orthopraxis in Segismundo. Now, for the first time, he is capable to remain loyal to the inner call towards the realization of the Good even amid this world of contradictoriness and universal struggle. By radically affirming moral free- dom as the only way to overcome the self-centered­ moment of the “subject-object”­ identity, Segismundo becomes able to move into a “newly-shaped”­ objectivity understood as free intersubjective commitment with human society according to a superior will: the will of God. At this point, God’s will is the only certain foundation. Thus, the objectivity lost in the epistemological ground is brought back again in the orthopraxis as the commitment to the inner sense of the Good in the world. Ultimately, as a Christian, Calderon has to move from the moment of disconcert, scandal and hesitation towards the moment of faith, meaningfulness and sense of Being. Therefore, a shift takes place here from the peak of the ontological and epistemological confusion to the decisive- ness of self-affirmation­ in the concreteness of orthopraxis, unfettered from the pretentious imperative towards a perfect and distinct knowledge of things and self. The moral impera- tive remains the same regardless its ontological nature. God exists to me not because I am able to rationally prove his existence (i.e. Thomas of Aquina’s “quinque viae”), but because I am called to be good and act according to the Good revealed to me as divine will in my moral consciousness. And, as usual, it is the servant, the “lower” character, the one who provides us with the key knowledge to understand the experience of metanoia (mind-­ changing) and peripeteia (circumstance-changing)­ that the hero is about to undergo. In Clotaldo’s words:

Como habíamos hablado 1155 de aquella águila, dormido, tu sueño imperios han sido; mas en sueños fuera bien entonces honrar a quien te crió en tantos empeños 1160 Segismundo; que aun en sueños no se pierde el hacer bien.231

Now the narrator puts in Clotaldo’s mouth words of sublime wisdom, a wisdom that can be found in Kant’s transcendental ethics: doing good or evil is not a matter of the empirical rational mind but of the pure (i.e., formal) rational understanding of moral consciousness. Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 221

Therefore, it does not depend on the rational conceptualization of what is objectively (that is, ontologically) good or evil in a given circumstance: it is primarily a practical imperative oriented toward affirming freedom, life and dignity of the other beyond my personal set of interests. In other words, we cannot be certain of the good or evil nature of our actions in a concrete circumstance: we can, however, be certain of the good or evil nature of our intention and praxis to the extent of whether they comply or not with our consciousness’s moral imperative. So, through Segismundo as an actantial device, Calderón provides baroque Catholic culture with a practical moral-epistemological­ solution to the problem of the uncertainty of rational knowledge that paradoxically counterpoints with the metaphysical rationalism founded by Leibnitz and Descartes and the empirical rationalism developed by Berkeley, Hume, Condillac and Holbach, and its implications regarding Good and evil in human life. Segismundo experiences the impossibility of reaching a rational certainty that allows him to fathom and disclose the mystery of life, freedom, and his own subjectivity against the totality of the phenomenical world. Narratively speaking, the metasubjective dream-­ chronotope will synthesize (or, with Bakhtin, “assimilate”) the socio-historical­ disinte- gration with the extremely subjectivistic onto-epistemological­ background of certainty of the baroque self-consciousness­ in a way that, while it impedes all possibility of certain rational knowledge, it nevertheless opens at the same time the horizon for the transcen- dental self-experience­ of man as a “good creature” capable of commitment to the Good. Only this experience will make Segismundo free by reconciling in him once more human essence with the world’s essence. With Berkeley again, esse est percipi: man and world in general, as percipi, are God’s perceptum and thus, like in Andrea del Pozo’s apotheosis, it is in this transcendental locus that human and divine, subjectivity and world-reality,­ ratio and spirit can meet again in solemn nuptials with the all-pervading­ Truth. Segismundo, at the end of the Jornada II as an allegory of humanity, expresses this quasi-biblical­ lamentation:

Es verdad; pues reprimamos esta fiera condición, esta furia, esta ambición 1165 por si alguna vez soñamos. […] ¿Qué es la vida? Un frenesí. ¿Qué es la vida? Una ilusión, una sombra, una ficción, y el mayor bien es pequeño; 1200 que toda la vida es sueño, y los sueños, sueños son.232

He himself will say in the Jornada III:

Levanta, 205 levanta, padre, del suelo, que tú has de ser norte y guía de quien fíe mis aciertos; 222 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

que ya sé que mi crianza a tu mucha lealtad debo. 210 Dame los brazos […] Que estoy soña[n]do, y que quiero obrar bien, pues no se pierde obrar bien, aun entre sueños.233

For this reason, there is a semantic-­narrative complexity in La vida es sueño: the dream-­ chronotope appears to be twofold. In the first instance, at the intra-narrative­ and diegetic level we have Segismundo’s sleep that has been induced by powerful drugs. This sleep produces confusion in Segismundo’s mind, who does not know whether he is dreaming or not, and is totally unable to distinguish dream from vigil, phantasy from reality, pure subjectivity from objectivity. This stands in total consonance with the dominant “baroque” philosophy based on extreme idealist, perception-centered­ subjectivism. And at this point we are in position to visualize the other element that constitutes the twofold structure of the “dream-­chronotope” in La vida es sueño: the symbolic-allegorical­ one. This chronotope functions also as the narrative allegory of consciousness itself as essen- tially identified with perception in its absolute subjective moment. Berkeley, Hume, even Leibnitz, consider that the whole content of consciousness, including what we call “ob- jective world,” is no more than consciousness-begotten­ and perception-shaped­ phenom- enology, to the extent of affirming thatesse est percipi (Berkeley), or defining the individual as a self-enclosed­ totally independent monad able to coherently interact with other monads in virtue of a pre-established­ (essentially God-granted)­ harmony (Leibnitz). Thus, the totality of the real is interpreted as of the same nature of consciousness itself, as being ontologically a function of a creative transcendent subjectivity that produces at the same time consciousness-subject­ and consciousness-object.­ Descartes, in order to be able to establish a distinction between the state of “dreaming” or delusion and reality, had to appeal to the methodological transcendence of the empirical apprehensions of conscious- ness to gain access to an abstract “pure thinking” dimension where subjectivity discloses and unconceals itself as a “doubting subjectivity” and hence as “pure thinking subjectivity” (cogito ergo sum). It is this sort of dream-characterization­ that we find inLa vida es sueño. But unlike Descartes, Segismundo fails to rationally puzzle out the question about whether he is still dreaming or not. As in Chaucer, we recognize in Calderon’s La vida es sueño some specific onto-­ narrative categorical dimensions in the “dream-chronotope”.­ Yet, they play a different semantic-narrative­ role. One categorical dimension can be the metaphysical. In Chaucer, it can be seen in the fact that the dream-chronotope­ functions as the space where the trans- formation of the soul takes place in a mystical way. It is the ascensional space. In La vida es sueño, on the contrary, the metaphysical dimension of dream lies in the fact that it con- stitutes the origin of the experience. It is not a place in opposition to other (vigil), but the phenomenological matrix of the socio-cultural­ context of the work, the fabula as well as the dramatic-narrative­ structure. Another categorical dimension is the political one: The Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 223 dream-chronotope­ functions as a politically discharged dimension where the speaker is not the same dreaming subject as a political individual, but a voice that comes from a politically no-man’s­ place, granting the narrative agent some sort of immunity against the hegemonic establishment in his critical statements. Something like Hamlet’s representation of his father’s murder, where the same recipient –Hamlet’s uncle – is the one who interprets and puts the facts together, not Hamlet himself. As explains Dana M. Symons, in the “dreamless poems” the narrator is necessarily sep- arated from the fabula itself and his subjectivity is exposed in a way that makes clear the biased intervention of the writer in a text that is then no longer to be a considered a direct and immediate scripture of an unconcealed reality in its original form. In other words, the text loses authority in so far as its content appears to be explicitly determined or biased by the narrator or, at least, writing becomes directly and explicitly dependent on the narrator and his authority, in contrast with the dream poems where, as in the House of Fame, the author is always claiming ignorance and inability against the reality revealed through the dream: The lack of a dream frame exposes the formal workings of the poem, for the narrator’s separ- ation from the action reveals the subjectivity inevitable with any kind of written mediation, and his self-deprecation­ emphasizes the possibility that such intervention amusingly distorts the events and / or voices the poem supposedly “trans-cribes.”­ These poems thus achieve a kind of self-­conscious separation between narrator and poet by presenting a narrator who is not dreaming but still does not form part of the main action. He is an outsider even as he insists on being in the know.48 For this reason, dream-chronotope­ appears in Chaucer related also with text authority as a species of revelation, where a clear distinction is claimed between narrator as a dreamer, recipient of the vision from above –which actually puts him in a prophetical position-, and narrator as a non-dreamer­ totally aware of his ignorance and prosaic existence. This means that the same narrator splits into two subnarrative identities: the “dreaming narrator,” sub- ject of revelation and prophetical knowledge, and the “non-dreaming­ narrator,” an average person unable to properly understand what is revealed in his dream. Naturally, both subnarrative identities keep a ground unity in so far as they both are essentially one and the same: the dreaming narrator is not, essentially, different from the non-dreaming­ narrator; ultimately, the one does not surpass the other either in dignity or in knowledge. There is both epistemological and narrative unity between them. Indeed, this is precisely why the dream-chronotope­ acquires a determining role here: it guarantees the authority that vigil narrator himself is not capable to guarantee for himself and his visions. In this regard John Finlayson reminds us that “Clearly, the narrator in the House of Fame is a much more continuous presence than in the Book of the Duchess or the Parliament and, equally clearly, he is the device which provides the only direct unity of the poem,”49 and “The House of Fame is radically different in that the narrator is, on the level of literalis, the only constant or uniting factor…”50 This can also explain why, as Kathryn L. Lynch suggests, in the sixteenth and seven- teenth centuries dream vision as a subgenre “would embody the authority and conservatism 224 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 for which [they] yearned as much as they did for change,”51 as is the case of La vida es sueño. This, as already suggested, directly concerns the problem of writing and auctoritas: a problem of central relevance not only in medieval theological-philosophical­ and literary production but still nowadays. By examining essential issues of his time like the possibility of a trustable revealed truth, the intrinsic or extrinsic authority of the poet, and the role of the recipient audience in poetic writing’s legitimation process, Chaucer puts his finger on the twofold cardinal ontological-hermeneutical­ problem of Christian Middle Ages: world’s transcendence and immanence of God, as well as the possibility of knowing, understand- ing and translating God’s will into a general constraining pattern of world-orientation­ and moral behavior. Indeed, like Thomas Aquinas, Chaucer recognizes the possibility of God’s in-dream­ revelation, which is based on the ontological possibility of matter’s being shaped after the metaphysical forms as essences. In other words, the essence as pure form is a direct God’s creation whose incarnation in sensorially perceptible matter-form­ compounds guar- antees the innerworldly knowledge of the transcendental metaphysical substances. And not only that, by knowing this transcendent-­immanent structure of matter and form in con- crete entities, man is also able to carefully trace revealed God’s word and will. Ultimately, God’s revelation is possible in the concrete individual –even by means of the dream-vision­ device—in­ the same way the general form becomes rationally representable and, through its materialized attributes, sensorially perceptible in concrete beings. In all cases, the al- legorical possibility of language functions as a sort of universal mediator. This can take place insofar as God is at the same time ens as substantia in general and ens as substantia prima, i.e. primo esse and causa prima:52 “Substantiarum vero quae- dam sunt simplices et quaedam compositae, et in utriusque est essentia; sed in simplicibus veriori et nobiliori modo. Secundum etiam quod habent esse nobilius; sunt etiam causa eorum quae composita sunt, ad minus substantia prima et simplex, quae Deus est.”53 For this reason, dream can still be granted some truth-bearing­ authority as a way of divine com- municatio. Interesting to point out here that, in Calderón’s La vida es sueño, dream cannot be a trustable locus of God’s revelation for the simple reason that medieval-renascence­ dif- ferentiated subject-object­ structure has been transformed, in the framework of this form of baroque subjectivity, into essentially one and the same phenomenon. Therefore, reality and dream were indistinguishable one from the other. However, as has been said, the narrator in The House of Fame is not a traditional prophet. He does not interpret his dream for the people. Besides, he does not present himself as a mystic of the kind of Julian of Norwich or Catalina of Siena, somehow able to give account of their own visions. Not only Chaucer’s visions in the House of Fame are not preeminently theological in content, but he always insists on his ineptitude to interpret what unconceals itself before his eyes. Yet based on the essential identity between dreamer and non-dreamer,­ this narrator still appears as an authoritative figure. His authority lies upon the fact that after splitting into two different narrative voices, the narrator returns to a monolingual unity allowed by self-identity­ as a unifying substance. In this sense, we agree with Jacqueline T. Miller’s statement that: Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 225

The narrator of the House of Fame carefully establishes his separation from the dream vision tradition by placing the dream in December and appealing to himself as an authority figure. When telling the story of Dido and Aneas off the walls of the Temple of Venus, the narrator refers to himself as a kind of author, determining the parts of the story he will include based on his purpose. When he leaves the temple, however, the world outside is too much for his voice, and the voice is silenced. Silence gives authority to the true creator.54 The silence mentioned by J. T. Miller is not certainly in this case the mystical silence but a rhetorical device: a movement that puts the critical saying in the dreamer as the narrator’s projected subjectivity. And that is a contradiction, in a way, but a voluntary contradiction with a clear goal. The contradiction is that both narrative subcategories of “non dreamer” and “dreamer” have a common phenomenal root: the author; but, at the same time, as pointed by Ann Chalmers Watts, they appear separate at least until some point near the end of the poem “when the distance between the narrator and the author collapses.”55 However, even this collapse is just the reappearance of the essential unity of both dream- ing and vigilant narrators, unity that is conserved through the fact that the author as pre-­ dream narrator identifies himself with the one who is going to fall asleep and will have in his dreams the depicted visions. The claim that the visions are not merely a product of the dreamer’s phantasy is emphasized by the fact that the narrator remains a homodiegetic one and confesses his inability to get into the meaning of his dream visions. Besides, the goal of this contradictory narrative structure is, to put it somehow, the uncompromised freedom of critical speech. The rhetorical and narrative possibilities offered by the dream-chronotope­ were more than just useful not only to grant spiritual authority to a revelation, but also to find a locus enuntiationis somehow politically neutral facilitating the narrator to get rid of any possible blame as coping with the official censorship. Dream, on its own, constitutes the symbolic attempt to keep alive the endangered unity, not only of the Empire as hegemonic struc- ture, but of the Catholic cosmos as a whole, critically challenged by Reformation, modern scientific-technological­ rationality, and capitalist expansion. A third element is the aesthetic-artistic,­ which can be seen as essentially interlaced with the previous one: in Chaucer, it constitutes a way to provide the narrator with the space of creative production that allows him to make usage of different literary references, inter- textualities, styles, etc., without being responsible to justify his creative praxis: ultimately the narrator is just dreaming. Besides, as a depositary of a dream vision, the narrator now identified with the dreamer himself is invested with auctoritas and therefore his dream-­ vision depiction from being merely a narration turns to being a testimony of truth. Here, the narrator responds to Booth’s category of a dramatized narrator or even a self-conscious­ narrator-­agent56. The implied author57 is explicitly identified with the main character that becomes the privileged narrator58 of his own dream. Chaucer is, at the same time, narrator and intradiegetic dreamer. Nevertheless, in Chaucer a strict distinction between dream and wake (as state of vigil) is observed; a distinction that points to Chaucer’s “middle term” position between dis- integration and tradition, transformation and conservation. For this reason, in The House 226 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 of Fame the dream-chronotope­ is always intra-diegetic­ and equivalent to a fact given via fabula: the dream vision of a “real” person that presents himself as the narrator. And its function is prophetic-allegorical­ in so far as it creates a space of privileged observation of the real through a revelation granted by the allegorical figures mentioned in each in- vocation: a revelation of the visceral absurdity and meaninglessness of the world. Thus, the dream-chronotope­ appears to be the locus of truth and this is the reason why it must stay in contrast with the vigil-chronotope­ that responds to the silence incarnated by the poet unable to explain his own visions or, still worse, by a deceitful and senseless speech. Indeed, this contrast can already be observed in other poems, like the debate poem Wynnere and Wastoure where, as Dana M. Symons comments: “the narrator begins by expressing concerns about the way in which speech enables people to deceive one another, because ‘nowe alle es witt and wyles that we with delyn, / Wyse wordes and slee, and icheon wryeth othere’ (‘now all is cleverness and cunning that we deal with, / Wise words and sly [i.e., deceptive language], and one hides the next [or, obscures another intention],’” lines 5–6).”59 Chaucer’s speech is ironical and parodic. He is borne up to the high rock to contem- plate the conspicuous names granted a place by Fame in the history of human spirit. Later, he is introduced to the knowledge of Fame herself and her dwelling, only to discover that she was arbitrary in judgment and frivolous in criteria. How to trust then in the objective and indisputable canonicity of the famous? What could be the real aesthetic-artistic­ values according to which to judge poetry and arts in general? How could a whole culture base its self-understanding­ and its own interpretation upon such fragile and unreliable grounds? Even a famous poet on one of the Columns of Fame claims that Homer’s story was just a fable, and that he spoke lies and composed lies in his poems, and that he favored the Greeks, in other words, that he was unjust… The power of “hearsay,” arbitrariness of judg- ment, even concessions to strangely self-slandering­ petitioners…this is what the House of Fame’s intra-oneiric­ narrator saw in the highest peak of his visions. He pleads Apollo’s “science and light” according to his “grete might” in order to be able to “make hit sumwhat agreeable, though som vers faile in a sillable.”60 Apollo was considered to be a god of wis- dom and order, opposed to Orpheus and Dionysus. The poet anticipates his insertion in the apollonian cosmos of clarity and beauty by means of the allegory of the laurel tree, Apollo’s attribute, and supplicate the god to inspire him by entering into his breast and so becoming his most proper subjectivity: “Thou shalt see me go, as blyve, Unto the nexte laure I see, And kisse hit, for hit is thy tree.”61 But, what does the poet find in the next station of his journey? The more he approach- es Fame’s dominions, the more chaos and contradictoriness he finds. Fame’s abode was erected upon ice, a material instable like futile judgments and at the same time brittle and cold. This ontological / axiological deconstruction in Chaucer’s The House of Fame is recognized by Lara Ruffolo as she affirms that “Though based on Dante’s Commedia, the House of Fame works in the opposite direction, using lists of secular and sacred materials, jumbled together, to undermine literary authority. Fame’s presentation draws attention to the fact that fame is often not deserved. Ultimately, Chaucer suggests that a poet’s fame Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 227 does not depend on the greatness of his art, but on the reception that his art receives, thus making the audience, not writing predecessors, the final authority.”62 After each of Fame’s judgments, the god of the north winds, Aeolus, blows one of two trumpets: ‘Clear Laud,’ to give the petitioners fame, and ‘Slander’ to give the petitioners infamy… It is clear that Chaucer presents us a parodic version of the Final Judgment, yet upside down. In Matthew, we find a fair depiction of the spirit of Last Judgment accord- ing the Christian exegesis: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne… ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food…Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food…” Fame takes the place of Christ, but the righteousness of judgment based on transparent criteria gives place to the arbitrariness of Fame herself, and metaphys- ical eternal life is replaced by the pale and insipid dwelling in a locus where axiological criteria are confusing and joy is nothing more than the alienated satisfaction of the acknowl- edgment of others. This is emphasized in Troilus’s final exhortation to the youth: O youngè, freshè folkès, he or she! boy or girl In which that love up groweth with your age, Repaireth home from worldly vanity, Turn back And of your hearts up casteth the visage To thilkè God that after his image You made, and thinketh all is but a fair just a show This world that passeth soon as flowers fair, 264. And loveth Him, the which that right for love Upon a cross, our soulès for to buy, to redeem First starved, and rose, and sits in heaven above; First, died For He n’ill falsen no wight, dare I say, won’t deceive anyone That will his heart all wholly on Him lay, to Him devote And since He best to love is, and most meek, What nee- deth feignèd lovès for to seek?63 This shows clearly that Chaucer’s alternative against Classic prototypes and the frivolity of the world is Christianity. We can indeed find the opposition between pagan and Chris- tian culture also in Chaucer’s other poems, such as Troilus and Criseyde, where Troilus’s final apotheosis corresponds to the hagiographical model of ascending to the Heavens after fighting the spiritual battle: And down from thencè fast he gan avise look closely at This little spot of earth that with the sea Embracèd is, and fully gan despise This wretched world, and held all vanity In réspect of the plain felicity total happiness That is in heaven above; and at the last Where he was slain his looking down he cast.64 Now back to Calderón, the dream-chronotope­ in La vida es sueño is also metatextual, in the sense that it is projected onto the totality of the Real by the rhetorical device of Segism- undo’s inability to distinguish dream from reality. The narrator in this case is “equiscient;” he does not know more than Segismundo regarding his main circumstance: is he really still dreaming or not? Segismundo, whose subjectivity has been shaped according the homosub- jective dream-chronotope’s­ structure, arrives at the practical solution of living his dream or his life according to the highest moral virtue, bearing in mind the fact that ultimately death will dissolve this dream-like­ or reality-grounded­ way of being. Thus, dream and reality, vigil and dream are ultimately one and the same thing, or at least onto-epistemologically­ 228 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 indistinguishable. Unlike Chaucer’s dreams, here the identification, even more or less prob- lematic or questioned by Segismundo’s doubts, becomes complete both in a narrative as well as on a meta-narrative­ (ontological) level. There is an immediate identity between the sujet, the narrative content and the nature of being-a-dream­ as intrinsic to all that exists. Despite that the totality of the real is not presented in a first moment as a dream, the fact that everything is as phenomenon per se a dream comes to be at the end of the play a sort of self-assertive­ statement. Here, events do not happen in the dream, but everything that happens, all that somehow exists, is dream-natured,­ impermanent, innately determined by a groundless (or infinitely self-grounded)­ “unijectivity.”65 In fact, Chaucer’s narrative leaps are determined by the “vigil-dream”­ opposition, whereas in La vida es sueño, “vigil” and “dream” do not lie in radical opposition insofar as they are interpreted as essentially one and the same. The dream in La vida es sueño has an immediate ontological dimension beyond the narrative or fictional constitution of thepersonae , whereas in Chaucer dream is primarily understood as a natural phenomenon that is given a narrative dimension as “locus fabulae” and “via mystica.” Only on this ground can the “dream-chronotope”­ acquire in Chaucer a symbolic-­allegorical meaning intertwined with the circumstance of truth con- cealment and improper knowledge. Indeed, in Book I we find a meaningful allegory of the ascending journey taking place in the golden eagle: Then I had any egle seyn. But this as sooth as deeth, certeyn, Hit was of golde, and shoon so bright, That never saw men such a sighte, But-if­ the heven hadde y-wonne­ Al newe of golde another sonne; So shoon the egles fethres brighte, And somwhat dounward gan hit lighte.66 The eagle is the ascending device somehow empowered by the demi-divine­ entities invoked to bring the narrator up to unsuspected heights that transcend his weak understanding: “Me caryinge in his clawes starke,/ As lightly as I were a larke,/ How high, I can not telle yow.”67 Later, in Book III, another allegoric figure comes up the rock. Whan I was fro this egle goon, I gan beholde upon this place. And certein, or I ferther pace, I wol yow al the shap devyse Of hous and site; and al the wyse How I gan to this place aproche That stood upon so high a roche.68 In both cases, the semantic field associated with these words covers synchronically both al- titude and visibility, which necessarily leads (though not painlessly) to the clarity of seeing as essential condition for the acquisition of a new knowledge: Hyer stant ther noon in Spaine. But up I clomb with alle paine, Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 229

And though to climbe hit greved me, Yit I ententif was to see, And for to pouren wonder lowe, If I coude any weyes knowe What maner stoon this roche was; For hit was lyk a thing of glas, But that hit shoon ful more clere; But of what congeled matere Hit was, I niste redely.69 Yet the journey must go on and hence this rock is only a swift moment in the ascension and not an end in itself; the very matter it is made of reveals a twofold paradoxical condition: the place where the narrator has been taken, and the instable ground he can be granted in such a “feble foundement to bilden” place: But of what congeled matere Hit was, I niste redely. But at the laste espyed I, And found that hit was, every deel, A roche of yse, and not of steel. Thoughte I, ‘By Seynt Thomas of Kent! This were a feble foundement To bilden on a place hye; He oughte him litel glorifye That her-on­ bilt, god so me save!70 It is precisely because of this awareness of being-in-a-­ journey­ of apocalyptic nature which leads to the essential distinction between reality as a whole and the dream-vigil­ duality, that in Chaucer the character is able to overcome and escape out of the dream-determined­ “non-real”­ reality. In La vida es sueño no possibility is left to transcending dream’s self-­ reproducing web without denying life itself, because here life and dream have, as said, the same origin. A very interesting fact is that the persona (Segismundo) does not have the kind of “dream” Chaucer’s narrator has: in Segismundo’ s case, his dream has no connection with any prophetic foreseeing of the future or any sort of explanation of what the nature of things are or may be –as in The House of Fame, Pearl, and to some extent even in The Book of the Duchess-, Segismundo’s dream is what the pre-Byzantine­ “dream critic” Artemid- orus of Daldis would name orama71, in the category of non-­prophetical dreams originating in dreamers’ subjectivity, totally idiosyncratic to each dreamer, in contrast to the propheti- cal dream, the oneiros72 as such.73 Indeed, Segismundo’s dream is produced under intense distress (unable to distinguish whether he is dreaming or living a real life, apprehended by his own father’s order and deprived of his rights as heir to the throne). Only afterwards, and always in the framework of the strictest subjectivity, this dream-chronotope­ becomes wider and broader as to de- termine, through Segismundo’s doubt and inability to distinguish reality from dream, the totality of the play. It is interesting to note at this point that, according to Western medieval theories of dreams, Segismundo’s dreaming seems not to surpass the tension between the 230 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 category of somnium as an enigmatic and obscure dream that needs interpretation” and insomnium, a nightmare produced by mental or physical distress. Chaucer’s narrator’s dreams are quite different: the narrator sleeps naturally or with a minimum amount of distress, as in the case of the House of Fame, and once inside the dream, visio and revelatio take place peacefully and somehow even methodically. In Chaucer, there are actually two ways of overcoming the dream-determined­ chronotope: first the negative one, seen in theHouse of Fame, by just waking up and getting back to the innerworldly empirical reality: Now herkneth, as I have you seyd, What that I mette, or I abreyd. […] Of Decembre the tenthe day, Whan hit was night, to slepe I lay Right ther as I was wont to done, And fil on slepe wonder sone.74 The explicit narrator’s reference to the exact date where he fell asleep and had his dream as a past event means necessarily that he has already woken up and returned to the “reality-­ chronotope” as opposed to dream. Thus, in Chaucer the relationship between dream and vigil is based on a structure of apposition, in the sense that they interact without becoming subsumed one by the other; while in Calderón the structure that determines the dream-­vigil relation is the superposition, in so far as the dream-chronotope­ absorbs the vigil or in this case the reality-chronotope­ and becomes identified with it. Certainly, while in Chaucer there is still an opposition between dream and vigil and both elements belong to the more primary space of reality, in Calderón the state of vigil is not “real” enough to oppose to dreams, because dreams here are not just a physiological state that becomes space of revelation, but reality itself. It is also important to clarify that the abrupt and unfinished ending of Chaucer’s piece is not at odds with our previous statements because, if not at the level of sujet or discourse, the waking-up­ moment is nevertheless ex- plicit in the fabula itself.75 Indeed, the narrator could not have being narrating a past event if he would not be installed in the narrative present of the discourse. It is necessarily in such a narrative present where the aesthetic-artistic­ demiurgic act of poetic writing is performed. The present temporality of the “reality-chronotope”­ (from verses 1 to 118) contrasts with the past temporality (“present” only in the narrative level as description of facts already past and realized) of the “dream-chronotope”­ when the main story takes place (from 119 to 2158). Meanwhile, we find a paradigm of the “positive” way in Troilus and Criseyde where the hero, Troilus, undergoes an experience of ontological transformation and be- comes reconciled with Reality. In contrast with The House of Fame, we are witnessing here a well-rounded­ and finished closure of the work determined by the fact that Troilus ultimately experiences a mystical transfiguration, which shows the influence that mystic literature had on Chaucer as person and writer:76 And whan that he slayn in this manere, His lighte goost ful blissfully is went Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 231

Up to the holownesse of the eighthe spere, In convers letinge every element; And ther he saugh, with ful avysement, The erratic sterres, herkeninge armonye With sownes fulle of hevenish melodye.77 It is, however, noteworthy that at some point, both “dream-­chronotopes” acquire a symbolic-­ allegorical dimension seemingly denying the ground role we had assigned to it: while pro- viding an alternative reality of objectivity, order and certainty having revelation as only authority, the dream-chronotope­ appears as allegory of the nothingness and impermanence of human life as “being in the world” as well as of the essential fatuity and uncertainty of knowledge due to our natural limits. That is true, but only partly. The dream-chronotope­ calls back rather quickly its main function as space of certain knowledge, enduring stability and authorized perception. But this movement takes place in opposite directions in each case. In Chaucer, it happens from the literary-narrative­ category of the dream-chronotope­ to the onto-epistemic­ dimension; in Calderón from the onto-epistemic­ state of facts to the literary-narrative­ dimension of the fabula. In other words, whereas in Chaucer the sur- rounding reality is still determined by a plurality of voices, “melodies” and worldviews contending against each other without prevailing one over the other, as it is characteristic in times of change (which means that dreaming has a narratively more “methodical” and “strategic” than real meaning in order to access to an authoritative knowledge in the frame- work of medieval theories of dreams), Calderon de la Barca, inside the complex but far more regular and compact structure of the particular Catholic Spanish block-universe­ 78 and the more general baroque “destining of revealing” that interprets the Being of beings as perceptum,79 sees himself deprived of the possibility to “use” dream primarily as a narrative resource in his striving after an authoritative knowledge. On the contrary, he is assuming as a principle fact the autonomous reality –the ontological consistency- of dreams, and only afterwards does dream become a narrative category. As a matter of fact, the very Catholic compact universe in which Calderón writes gives him a well-grounded­ authority, but he is still, like Chaucer, experiencing a paradigm shift: yet, a different one. Chaucer lives the decadence of Aristotelian scholastic reason, the noble ideals of chivalry, and a well-ordered­ Catholic (in general) and British (in particular) world; Calderón for his part is experiencing the loss of the Renaissance “objective perspective,” of the “Da Vincian man” model, so to say it, and he is living the very much contradictory cultural return to a delusive “only-by-faith”­ paradigm of relationship with truth. He also witnesses the first -in Western culture- loss of “reference” as a result of ground-shaking­ shift of the monolingual paradigms of Spanish Catholic ontological and epistemic con- structs. Now this is the real: a “Velazquian” mirror-like­ perception of perceptions where God’s authority is to be found more in strict moral precepts than in complex Scholastic metaphysical systems: accomplishment (works) and faith lead to God. The world in itself, notwithstanding, is delusive, deceitful, dangerous and unreliable. Therefore, pure theologi- cal intellection is not trustworthy any more. 232 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

The Problem of Liberty and Necessity in La vida es sueño

However, in La vida es sueño the “dream-vigil”­ structure appears to be essentially inter- connected with another structure that constitutes one of the most important philosophical and theological problems throughout this period: the opposition/unity between liberty and necessity, or between free agency and fate. As mentioned, all throughout the piece the impossibility of experiencing free will and autonomy against the determination of circum- stances becomes for Segismundo a continuous source of anguish. The contradiction be- tween self-determination­ and destiny takes place both at the level of experience as well as of intellect. As long as Segismundo remains caught in this contradictory structure, he is also proportionally unable to confront his circumstance with authenticity: sunken in the ocean of his hesitations, Segismundo is unable to avoid being carried away by his circumstances: he kills a man, he hates his father, he is tempted and easily seduced by the perspective of be- coming king and therefore acquiring power: the innerworldly ephemeral power of mortals. Thus, a threefold sequence of events arises before our eyes; a sequence of events through which Segismundo must pass in order to recover self-­consciousness and hence autonomy and freedom. We speak of three essential moments. In the first, Segismundo puts up a futile fight, striving after truth under the burden of hesitations and contradictions. His mind is still confused and obscure. He is still bound to the “innerworldliness of the world” claiming his rights to power and being willing to do whatever it takes to achieve it. He is still mundane and remains alienated in his will to power and ambition. In a second moment, Segismundo discloses himself as a man struggling to puzzle out life’s most transcendental queries. He shows a philosophical vein. He is undoubtedly special. What is freedom? Is it man, or can he be, free at all? Are we just puppets of all-­ mighty forces we call destiny? Following Diotima in Socrates’s account, Segismundo is here like demigod Eros: he knows something as essential enough as to encourage him to seek after the ultimate truths of life; but, at the same time, he does not know as far enough as to fully experience the meaning of life, and be then completely free. Then, what occurs now? Segismundo’s drug-induced­ sleep. The drugs here provoked a sleep that came with a dream; a dream that brought Segismundo to the liberation from world’s grip and bore him up to the position of authenticity, acting accordingly with appropriateness. As soon as this turn takes place by his surrendering arms and subduing himself to the king’s justice and authority, Segismundo experiences an unmediated harmony between his will (liberty) and the destiny imposed upon him by the circumstances: now the world order leads him toward the fulfillment of his most proper way of being: he becomes king as a result of his humility. Liberty and necessity conflate and Segismundo is then in position of realizing his being/ destiny in the world. In the third moment, Segismundo copes with his own metanoia or mind-changing.­ He not only apologizes for the crimes made, but he also puts down his arms and gives himself up to his father, whom he recognizes as legitimate king. If Adam’s transgression brought about God’s rage and his being cast away from Para- dise, Segismundo’s metanoia will restore him to his “royal,” that is his “real” status as heir Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 233 of the kingdom. Paradoxically, then, only by renouncing to rational distinctions and accept- ing his innerworldliness as an indistinct unity of dream and vigil on the common ground of perception, will Segismundo be able to exist according to his most proper way of being.

The Dream-Chronotope’s­ Role as Space of Allegorein and Social / Ontological Self-Consciousness­

For Calderón and Chaucer, the socio-historical­ context was marked by collapse, uncer- tainty and hesitation toward the future. In both, dream-chronotope­ plays a special role as a space of social and ontological self-consciousness­ and privileged perspective that, in the dimension of the fictional narrative, grants a trustworthiness of perception and certainty of knowledge already absent in real life. This chronotope works at the same time as a locus of paradoxical and symbolic reconciliation. The dimension of symbolism and paradox in Cal- derón’s work in general, and specifically inLa vida es sueño, had been already recognized by Angel Valbuena Briones.80 Nevertheless, there is another essential difference between Chaucer’s and Calderón’s complex semantic-cognitive-narrative­ function of dreams. Whereas in the first, the dream-­ chronotope is always abandoned and surpassed by the returning re-emergence­ and re-­ instauration of the real in the experience of waking up, in the latter dream-­chronotope and reality itself become totally identified. Therefore, at this point, no return to the “real” as opposed to “dream” can be expected. The only “solution” will be the total abandonment of the onto-epistemological­ possibility of experiencing reality as opposed and preeminent to the personal-subjective­ representations. Searching after objectivity of judgment and cer- tainty of knowledge even in the ethical sense of “right” or “wrong” becomes useless and senseless. Therefore, the inversion here is radical: reality and dream are one and the same, and only by suppressing the will to distinguish between both can be achieved a sort of re-insertion­ into life itself in a transformative way. But this re-insertion­ would be as such pure senseless- ness, unless a higher meaning-granting­ instance could be achieved, because otherwise it would not be essentially different from dream and delusive fantasy. It is impossible to know what properly “takes place out there” (objective knowledge). The only thing that can be done is perceiving what appears from “out there” (one experi- ences the “there” and the “out” but the “what” and the “how” of the “there” remains con- cealed) according to one’s representation categories. At this point, the ontological thing as something different from the moral dimension disappears. The moral, without replacing the ontological proper, is now the only possible certitude. If not as an ontological ground, the moral dimension functions at least as a meta-subjective­ horizon in which reality and self-consciousness­ find their ultimate reconciliation. In Segismundo, Berkeley’s “esse est percipi” morphs into “esse est ens moralis.” History shows how Catholic metaphysics of pure “esse” boils down into either of both: an epistemology of pure rational forms (logics), or a metaphysics of pure practical rational imperatives (moral). 234 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

Coda

Chaucer and the Crisis of the Medieval Imago Mundi Chaucer is inheritor of the medieval conception of dreams as revelations, and he points out to the struggle involved in understanding their meaning: GOD turne us every dreem to gode For hit is wonder, by the rode To my wit, what causeth swevenes Either on morwes, or on evenes; And why the effect folweth of somme, And of somme hit shal never come; Why that is an avisioun[ ], And this a revelacioun; Why this a dreem, why that a sweven, And nat to every man liche even; Why this a fantom, these oracles, I noot; but who-so­ of these miracles The causes knoweth bet than I, Devyne he; for I certeinly Ne can hem noght, ne never thinke To besily my wit to swinke, To knowe of hir signifiaunce The gendres, neither the distaunce Of tymes of hem, ne the causes For-why­ this more than that cause is.81 This presupposed a clear pre-given­ ontological order: God as the source of revelation and vision, also in dreams; the world as analogia entis allegorically showing the glory of God; words and images able to symbolically convey the mysterious contents of revelation; the human being as “natural” recipient both of the unconcealed glory of God and of the reveal- ed word as created “in God’s image and likeness.”82 But this well-rounded­ and once “com- plete” medieval world-construct­ that supported the experience of the in-worldly­ insertion of the Divine through the mystery of dreams had already started to undergo an irreversible decay in a dual sense. On the one hand, the traditional scholastic philosophy would experi- ence its final countdown with the crisis of the ontological “realism” and the emergence of a more experience-centered­ and authority-challenging­ conception of knowledge as we find in Duns Scotus’s, Francis Bacon’s and William of Ockham’s early empiricism. Additionally, another form of empiricism -the mystic tradition extending from the thir- teenth to the sixteenth century represented in figures such as Meister Eckhart, Juliana of Norwich, Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Catalina of Siena, Saint John of the Cross, and Saint Teresa of Avila-, was the swan song of the Aristotelian sway whose indisputable represen- tative was Saint Thomas Aquinas. Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 235

Historical Instability

Chaucer’s Context England was not very far behind in this disintegration process. The disastrous consequenc- es of the Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453), the internecine power struggles that signifi- cantly quaked the realm, especially between Richard II and an outstanding bunch of nobles that opposed to what they considered to be the King’s tyrannical and capricious rule, the so-called­ Lord Appellant’s Rebellion (1387), the increasing power of the Spanish kingdom particularly after the gradual Castilianization of the Peninsula, and the dangerous perspec- tive of the unification of French and Spanish crowns (intentions confirmed by Louis XIV after the appointment of his grandson Phillip of Anjou’s as King of Spain by Carlos II) were determining factors in the breakdown of the imperial self-confidence.­ We must recall here Sylvia Federico’s ideas83 concerning contextual, i.e. historic cultural determination upon Chaucer’s work. She refers to the problem of the prophetic interpre- tation of the present as a bridge leading to a future where an already interpreted past is ex- pected to become reality as a new present. All this came to produce a cultural temporality immediately articulated around a historical self-consciousness­ based upon the fragile grounds of an identitary construction directly linked with the current state of national decay experienced in the England of Richard II. This influence is particularly visible in the sym- bolic overlapping of “Old” and “New” Troy in the imperial imaginary of which Chaucer himself, as much as Richard II and his court, was an active interested part.84 Troy was a supposed-­to-be eternal city blessed by the gods. New Troy would have met the same destiny. Historical Troy, however, fell down in the Homeric imaginary as the unavoidable consequence of a woman’s sin: Helen of Troy. The British Empire, also, is ex- periencing a crisis; even the British Army had lost some crucial battles, no matter whether Richard II inherited or not these underlying unpropitious circumstances and “difficulties.”85 The problem is what kind of sin is provoking New Troy’s fall. The author refers to some of the most important mistakes credited to Richard II “by the consciously propagandistic efforts of Lancastrian chronicles,”86 which naturally in any case would have only in part contributed to the crisis of the Empire. Although we cannot certainly ignore the historical fact that “Richard’s expenses are compared to similar expenses for the court of Edward III,”87 it seems contradictory to state that “the charges that Richard’s court was extravagant are unfair”88 especially when the same author recognizes that: “The record of Richard II, ‘the most beautiful of kings’ and ‘flower of youths’ (‘flos puerorum’), as Gower called him, includes entries noting his taste in fine clothes and a fondness for self-display.­ The king’s interest in ritualized displays of knighthood is evident in his sponsoring of large-scale­ tournaments….”89 Facing such evi- dence, we can guess that Chaucer could have been trying to admonish British to avoid the definite fall by remarking the utopia of the Eternal Empire under Christendom as incarnated also in Richard II’s royal person, court, and army. 236 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

Calderón and his Habitat It is indisputable that Calderón lived the definite point-of-no-­ return­ of the Spanish Empire, on the edge of its gradual collapse under Charles II’s rule90. Charles II, a handicapped ruler, was unable to personally hold sway upon his stormy political context. In general, these were very difficult times for Spain. On the one side, the French strength expanded unstoppably under Louis XIV, along with its increasing political influence over the whole of Europe. There existed well-grounded­ fears that, due to the kinship between Bourbon and Habsburg houses through Maria Theresa of Spain, Charles’s half-sister,­ who was the first wife of Louis XIV king of France91, France could strengthen its power all over Europe and enhance its political influence upon the crown of Spain. Charles II’s death marks the end of the Habsburg dynasty in Spain, and the ascension of the Bourbons to the Spanish Crown. On the other side, there was hunger, rather starvation, and instability in the kingdom. From the social point of view, a silent revolution was taking place. The bourgeois stratum was gaining momentum in Spanish society with eh consequent flourishing of the urban life and culture with its new catalogue of vices and situations. The older knightly idealistic vir- tues of honor in life and courtesy in love were all stepping back to make room for a more pragmatic, unceremonious system of social interactions based of the immediate profit and the drastic decrease of distance between wish/desire and satisfaction, perhaps responding to the imposition of a new socio-psychological­ economical model. This will to immediate sat- isfaction permeated the whole social tissue: bankers, nobles, bourgeois, clerics, monks…, all seemed to be possessed by this new demon…This is at least what is shown to us in some of the most important literary creations of the time, i.e., La Celestina (1499)92 by Fern- ando de Rojas, El Lazarillo de Tormes (1554)93, and Francisco de Quevedo’s El Buscón (ca. 1640)94 y (Los Sueños).95 At the same time, economy was stagnant, and we remember that Pedro I had already prohibited beggary in Navarra and Aragón, and in El Lazarillo de Tormes we see in the “Tercer Tratado” that Lázaro and the down-­at-heel squire had to be fed by certain good-will­ neighbors because beggary wasn’t allowed any more. Fur- thermore, the marvelous geo-political­ extension of the empire generated also the fact that it was almost impossible to hold sway over such vast extensions of in-land­ as well as overseas territories. Therefore, the power of the monarchy over the provinces was extremely weak and actually to some extent ineffective. Furthermore, it was a time of perpetual crisis and bloody wars for the Spanish realm, to which Charles’s lacking of experience decisively contributed, as much as his rather sterile, colorless and easy-to-manipulate­ personality.96 His father, Philip IV, had died when he was only three years old, and therefore he had to inherit the throne in the middle of his childhood. Naturally, the Council of Castilla as the Regency Council had to immediately appoint Philip’s second wife and Charles’s mother, Maria of Austria, regent for the minor king. The child-king­ grew up amidst complex hegemonic wars. He had to cope with the Portu- guese Restoration War (1640–1668), which ended up with a political, economic and moral defeat for Spain; the monarchy was obliged to accept the loss of the Portuguese Crown and, by signing on 13 February 1668 the Treaty of Lisbon, formally came to recognize Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 237 the sovereignty of the House of Braganza.97 Afterwards, the realm was beaten again by a vicious conflagration; in this case Spain was plunged into the so-called­ War of Devolution with an even more powerful enemy: Louis XIV and the kingdom of France. In November of 1683, Charles and the kingdom of Spain suffered Louis XIV of France’s next step oriented to the enhancement and further stabilization of his power in a Europe signed by the most precarious hegemony relations: the attack against the Spanish dominion in the Spanish Netherlands during the so-called­ War of the Reunions (1683–1684). The situation became even more complex and confused after Charles II’s decision, already on the verge of death, to pass the Spanish Crown to the only surviving legitimate descendant of his father Philip IV, namely the family of Philip’s eldest daughter Maria Theresa of Spain, Charles’ 16-year old grand-nephew­ Philip, Duke of Anjou, actually a subditus to the French kingdom, a Bourbon.

Finale

Despite the apparently optimistic turn of the piece, La vida es sueño remains a document of the Spanish baroque experience of human weariness and boredom in “being-­in-the-world,”­ as much as an affirmation of the awareness of the futility of living in a world essentially condemned to pass away and fade. The condition of impermanence and nothingness at the same time symbolized in the dream, appears in Chaucer directly intertwined with a sort of satiric irony, in keen contrast with the baroque, dense and somehow “tragic irony” present and dominant throughout Calderón’s production. The “satiric irony” takes impermanence and world-nothingness­ as facts but somehow “laughs” at them and surpasses them by mo- mentarily returning to a real space that functions as a launch-ground­ for next adventures… and so in an ascending circle. Baroque “tragic irony” lies, on the one hand and in a first moment, in the horrified rec- ognition of the no-thing-ness­ lying beneath the whole of world’s phenomenology (which makes human life meaningless as being-in-the-­ world),­ and, on the other, on the human ontic epistemic impossibility of distinguishing subjective openness towards the phenom- enical world from the totality of the world itself. In other words, no certainty about the truth and the Real as an objective counterpoint for subjectivity is any longer cognitively avail- able in this transitional subspecies of the modern mind we call “baroque episteme.” Even the final exhortation in La vida es sueño is not happy a celebration of life -al- though it cannot be denied that Segismundo becomes “free” only by embracing the eternal principles of justice and love-, but it is somehow, ultimately, a disappointed and sad an- agnorisis: an essentially bittersweet and suspicious reconciliation. We must do the Good; yet this “for the fashion of this world passeth away.”98 Somehow the free decision to do the right and the good is the result of the hastío that comes from the consciousness of senselessness and transitivity, or it results from the fact that everything can be reduced to individual perceptions, to subjective judgments and to a sort of overwhelming “shadow”: the shadow of a long vanished God-granted­ (totally 238 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 self-coherent)­ world order that must become at least in part subjectively recovered by af- firming the individual’s inner sense of righteousness and justice. For these reasons, even when Segismundo asks for his sins to be forgiven, the essence remains the same: human being-in-the-­ world­ is transient, human life is senseless, “toda la dicha humana, en fin, pasa como sueño.” In La vida es sueño the mood of weariness and boredom, and world-transcendence­ schizophrenia that is at the same time a sort of de- lusional paranoia, are not meant to disappear: they are not only a part, they are rather the very essence of this baroque subjectivity. Even orthopraxis becomes justified not by itself, but by the transient, ephemeral, and impermanent condition of this world:

¿Qué os admira? ¿Qué os espanta, si fue mi maestro un sueño, y estoy temiendo en mis ansias 1120 que he de despertar y hallarme otra vez en mi cerrada prisión? Y cuando no sea, el soñarlo sólo basta; pues así llegué a saber 1125 que toda la dicha humana, en fin, pasa como sueño. Y quiero hoy aprovecharla el tiempo que me durare, pidiendo de nuestras faltas 1130 perdón, pues de pechos nobles es tan propio el perdonarlas.285

In Chaucer, on the contrary, any form of tedium and weariness is always relative and cir- cumstantial. When they linger any longer during the dream, they fade away in the moment of waking up or become neutralized by the still-fresh­ eagerness for knowledge and novelty. This possibility is not left for Calderón. Consciousness has been affirmed in the moment of its pure non-objectivity­ or transcendent subjectivity in contrast with the previous Medieval-­ Renaissance paradigm of objectivity. The only way out of this ontology of dream is the full annihilation of all dream-existence­ possibilities, which logically means not only annihilat- ing reality as such, but annihilating all form of subjectivity as identified with the real itself: and this radical annihilation would be nothing more than death. Chaucer never finds himself in such dilemma. He returns to a God that is still traceable in the world no matters how delusive and fragmentary man’s knowledge might be in it. Calderón’s God is pure Transcendence. He opposes himself to the phenomenical world now totally identical to a consciousness that flows adrift in the bottomless ocean of its own phantasmata. In La vida es sueño, even world / transcendence and liberty / necessity reconciliations are just dreams themselves. Chaucer sleeps, dreams, and wakes up to reality again. For Segismundo, dreams are the only real. Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 239

Endnotes

1 NT, DV. 2 Lee. T. Pearcy, “Theme, Dream, and Narrative: Reading the Sacred Tales of Aelius Aristides,” in Transactions of the American Philological Association 118 (1988): 377–391. 3 A. L. Basham, “Religion, Cults, Doctrines, and Metaphysics,” in The Wonder that Was India, chapter VII (New York: Grove Press, 1959), 256–287 and 297–345. 4 Bruce Mitchell and Fred. C. Robinson, ed., A Guide to Old English, sixth edition (Oxford??? Still wrong / Massachusetts: Blackwell Publishers, 2001), 256–263. 5 Thomas J. Garbaty, ed., “Dream Vision,” in Medieval English Literature (Long Grove IL: Wave- land Press, Inc, 1984), 676–720, 676. See also Albrecht Classen, “Die narrative Funktion des Traumes in mittelhochdeutscher Literatur,” in Mediaevistik 5 (1992): 11–37; id., “Transpositions of Dreams to Reality in Middle High German Narratives,” in Shifts and Transpositions in Medie- val Narratives. A Festschrift for Dr. Elspeth Kennedy. Ed. by Karen Pratt (Woodbridge, Suffolk: D. S. Brewer, 1994), 109–120. 6 Drew Beard, “Strange Bedfellows: The Chaucerian Dream Vision and the Neoconservative Nightmare,” in The Irish Journal of Gothic and Horror Studies 8 (2010), accessed Sept. 2, 2016, http://irishgothichorrorjournal.homestead.com/DreamVisionandNightmare.html 7 Evangelina Rodíguez Cuadros, ed., Calderón de la Barca. La vida es sueño, 18ª edición (Ma- drid: Espasa-Calpe­ 1997). If not states otherwise, this is the Spanish edition quoted througout the present work. See also the English version: Stanley Appelbaum, ed. and trans., Pedro Calderon de la Barca. Life is a Dream. La vida es sueño. A Dual-­Language Book (New York: Dover Pub- lications, Inc., 2002). 8 Larry D. Benson, ed., “House of Fame,” in The Riverside Chaucer (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), Third Edition. If not said otherwise, this is the edition quoted througout the present work. 9 From the Greek ἀλληγορέω, αλληγορεῖν (ἄλλον other, different + ἀγορέω to speak, to talk), literally to speak or explain figuratively. José M. Pabón S. de Urbina, Diccionario Manual VOX Griego-Español,­ decimoséptima edición (Barcelona: Biblograf, 1994). 10 David Farrel Krell, ed., Martin Heidegger. Basic Writings. Ten Key Essays with the Introduction to Being and Time (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1993), 408. 11 Ibid., 409. For the interplay between Sagen and Zeigen, see the editor’s first explanatory footno- te, 409. 12 Hans-Georg­ Gadamer, ‘Mythos und Vernunft,’ “Die Transzendenz des Schönen,” in Kunst als Aus- sage. Ges. Werke, vol. 8. of Ästhetik und Poetik (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1993), 163–169, 168. 13 For instance: ‘Da stieg ein Baum. O reine Übersteigerung! / O Orpheus singt!’ and ‘Ein Gott ver- mags…/ An der Kreuzung zweier Herzwege steht kein Tempel für Apoll’ and also ‘Götter, wir planen sie erst in erkühnten Entwürfen, / die uns das mürrische Schicksal wieder zerstört. / Aber sie sind die Unsterblichen…,’ “Die Sonette an Orpheus,” in Robert Vilain, ed., Rainer Maria Rilke. Selected Poems with Parallel German Text (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 182, 184, 236 respectively. 14 See for instance “Building dwelling thinking,” see note 10, 347–363: “Here the self-sufficiency­ of the power to let earth and sky, divinities and mortals enter in simple oneness into things ordered the house,” 362. 15 Steven F. Kruger, “Imagination and the Complex Movement of Chaucer's House of Fame,” in The Chaucer Review 28 (1993): 117–34, 124. 240 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

16 Stephen Miller, Del realismo/naturalismo al modernismo: Galdós, Zola, Revilla y Clarín (1870–1901) (Las Palmas: Ediciones del Cabildo Insular de Gran Canaria, 1993), 17. 17 Javier Zamora Bonilla and José Ramón Carriazo Ruiz, ed., Meditaciones. José Ortega y Gas- set: Meditaciones del Quixote. Edición facsímil conmemorativa (Madrid: Alianza Editorial SA, Fundación Ortega y Gasset-­Gregorio Marañón, Fundación Residencia de Estudiantes, 2014), 120. 18 Mikhail M. Bakhtin, “Forms of Time and the Chronotope in the Novel,” in The Dialogic Imagi- nation: Four Essays, ed. M. Holquist (Austin: University of Texas Press, Slavic Series), 84–258. 19 Bakhtin, ibid, 85. 20 Ibid. 21 Ibid., 84. 22 Ibid. 23 Ibid. 24 Ibid. 25 Ibid., 85. 26 Philippe Lorino, “The Bakhtinian theory of chronotope (spatial-temporal­ frame) applied to the organizing process,” in Second International Symposium on Process Organization Studies – Gen- eral Track, accessed April 26, 2016, http://www.alba.edu.gr/sites/pros/Papers/PROS-022.pdf. 27 Bakhtin, see note 18, 85. 28 Dana M. Symons, ed., “Chaucerian Dream Visions and Complaints: Introduction,” in Chauce- rian Dream Visions and Complaints (Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 2004), accessed February 17, 2016, http://d.lib.rochester.edu/teams/text/symons-chaucerian-dream-vi- sions-and-complaints-introduction. 29 “The House of Fame has used logic to discover the truth about Fame, but now the poem discour- ages the use of logic on the ground that it is a method of proving what common sense or intuition already knows.” William S. Wilson, “Scholastic Logic in Chaucer’s House of Fame,” in The Chaucer Review 1 (1967): 181–84, 184. 30 “The point of the fable is that truth and falsity are compacted and cannot be separated; but the very function of logic was such a separation, ‘a vero falsum cernere,’ and the self-evident­ truth of the fable is that there is no way ‘… whereby shal be knowen the trewe fro the fais.’” Wilson, see note 29, 184. 31 “The journey for tidings is a spiritual journey, with the adventures of a poet confronted with suc- cessive rivals to poetry grammar, rhetoric, and dialectic and the discovery that poetry is some- thing entirely separate” William S. Wilson, see note 29, 181. 32 Wilson, ibid. 33 “The separation between Chaucer the author and Chaucer the speaker seems to vary considera- bly throughout Chaucer's work. The relationship between the author and the speakers is also the relationship between the speakers and the worlds of their settings.” See Ann Chalmers Watts, “Chaucerian Selves –Especially Two Serious Ones,” in The Chaucer Review 4 (1970): 229–41. 34 See note 8, 63–65. 35 Ibid., 69–80. 36 For this notion in Greimas’s Propp-­inspired actantial model, see Louis Hébert, “Le modéle ac- tantiel,” in Signo. Site Internet de Théories Sémiotiques, accessed September 1, 2016, http:// www.signosemio.com/greimas/modele-actantiel.asp. See also Louis Hébert, Dispositifs pour l'analyse des textes et des images (Limoges: Presses de l'Université de Limoges, 2007). 37 Act II, 1075, 153. 38 Act I, 319–329, 94. Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 241

39 Alberto Navarro González, Calderón de la Barca: de lo trágico a lo grotesco, en Series Teatro del Siglo de Oro. Literatura I (Salamanca: Ediciones Universidad de Salamanca, Edition Rei- chenberger, 1984), 7–8. 40 F. Plata Parga, ed., La vida es sueño (segunda versión). Edición crítica de las dos versiones del auto y de la loa (Kassel, Germany/Pamplona, España: Universidad de Navarra/Reichenberger, 2012), 80, 4. 41 For the problem of the opposition between freedom and destiny or determination in La vida es sueño, see Matilde Pettengill, “La libertad moral en La vida es sueno” (Ph.D. diss., Georgia Sou- thern University, 2009), accessed September 2, 2016, http://digitalcommons.georgiasouthern. edu/etd. 42 See note 7, Act II, 547–551, 135. 43 Ibid., 239–262, 125. 44 Ibid., Act I, 101–172, 86–89. 45 Ibid., Act II, 1155–1162, 156. 46 Ibid., Act II, 1152–1202, 157. 47 Ibid., Act III, 205–215, 165. 48 Dana M. Symons, ed., see note 28. 49 John Finlayson, “The Roman de la Rose and Chaucer’s Narrators,” in The Chaucer Review 24, 3 (1990): 187–210, 204, http://www.jstor.org/stable/25094120. 50 John Finlayson, Ibid., 208. 51 Kathryn L. Lynch, The High Medieval Dream Vision: Poetry, Philosophy, and Literary Form (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1988), 15. 52 “Patet ergo quod intelligentia est forma et esse; et quod esse habet a primo esse, quod est esse tantum; et hoc est prima causa, quae Deus est.” See Sancti Thomae de Aquino, “De ente et es- sentia,” Caput I, in Corpus Thomisticum, textum a L. Baur Monasterii Westfalorum 1933 editum emendatum a J. Koch ac translatum in taenias magneticas a Roberto Busa SJ denuo recognovit Enrique Alarcón atque instruxit, accessed August 30, 2016, http://www.corpusthomisticum.org/ oee.html. 53 Sancti Thomae de Aquino, “De ente et essentia,” ibid. 54 Jacqueline T. Miller, “The Writing on the Wall: Authority and Authorship in Chaucer’s House of Fame,” in The Chaucer Review 17 (1982): 95–115. 55 Ibid. 56 Ibid., 152. 57 Ibid., 151. 58 Ibid., 160. 59 Dana M. Symons, ed., see note 28. 60 Book III, 1097–1098. 61 Ibid., 1106–1108. 62 Lara Ruffolo, “Literary Authority and the Lists of Chaucer’s House of Fame: Destruction and Definition through Proliferation,” inThe Chaucer Review 27 (1993), 325–41. 63 Geoffrey Chaucer, Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, ed. Stephen A. Barney (New York: Norton, 2006), 263–264. 64 Ibid, Book V, 260. 65 For this concept, see Adolfo Izquierdo Uribe, “Espacio – Temporalidad y Omnijetividad – Una aproximación epistemológica,,” in Nómadas 11 (1999): 241–248, accessed February 14/2014, http://www.redalyc.org/pdf/1051/105114277022.pdf. 66 Ibid., 501–508. 242 Mediaevistik 29 · 2016

67 Ibid., 545–547. 68 Ibid., 1110–1115. 69 Ibid., 1116–1127. 70 Ibid., 1127–1135. 71 From Greek όραμα, vision. 72 In Greek “dream.” 73 Steven M. Oberhelman, Dreambooks in Byzantium (Boldmin, Cornwall: MPG Books Ltd, 2008), 22–23. 74 Ibid., Book I, 109–114. 75 For the important distinction between “discourse” or sujet and “fabula” or historie with a ref- erence to concrete artistic-literary­ works, see Brian McHale, “Popular Genres,” in Teaching Narrative Theory, ed. David Herman, Brian McHale, and James Phelan (New York: The Modern Language Association of America, 2010), 183–189. 76 For a further deepening in the mystic influence on Chaucer’s poetics, see Robert Boenig,Chau - cer and the Mystics. The “Canterbury Tales” and the Genre of Devotional Prose (Lewisburg, PA: Bucknell University Press, 1995), and Roger Ellis, Patterns of Religious Narrative in the Canterbury Tales (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 1989). 77 Troilus and Criseyde, see note 63, 259. 78 Very closed in itself and at least formally isolated from Reformation influence. 79 In essence, of the same nature of consciousness. 80 Ángel Valbuena Briones, “La paradoja en La vida es sueño,” in Thesaurus 31.3 (1976): 413–42. 81 “House of Fame,” see note 8, Book I, 1–20. 82 “And God created man to his own image: to the image of God he created him” Genesis, 1: 27. DV, accessed August 10, 2016, http://www.drbo.org/chapter/01001.htm. 83 Sylvia Federico, “Chaucer’s Troy Book,” in New Troy: Fantasies of Empire in the Late Middle Ages (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press 2003). 84 For Chaucer’s interactions with Richard II’s court, see also David Wallace, Chaucerian Polity: Absolutist Lineages and Associational Forms in England and Italy. Figurae: Reading Medieval Culture (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1999). 85 Sylvia Federico, see note 83, 71. 86 Ibid., 70. 87 Ibid, 71. 88 Ibid. 89 Sylvia Federico, see note 83, 70. 90 Undoubtedly, there will still be glory days for Spanish crown, but after the end of the House of Austria in Spain and the enthronization of Philips V as King of Spain from the House of Bour- bon, a new era of French sway started for the Iberian nation. For a further insight on Calderón de la Barca’s bonds with Charles II’s court, see Judith Farré Vidal, ed., Teatro y poder en la época de Carlos II (Madrid: Iberoamericana Editorial, 2007), and José Manuel Trives Pérez, ed., “In- ventario de representaciones de La vida es sueño,” in Signa 22 (2013), 675–712, accessed May, 1/2014, dialnet.unirioja.es/descarga/articulo/4147574.pdf. 91 Henry Kamen, Philip of Spain: The King Who Reigned Twice (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2001), 52. 92 Fernando de Rojas, La Celestina, ed. Dorothy S. Severin (New York: Theater Books Publishers, 2000). 93 Lazarillo de Tormes, series Norton Critical Editions, tr. and ed. Ilan Stavans (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2015). 94 Lazarillo de Tormes and The Grifter. Two Novels of the Low Life in Golden Age Spain, ed. and tr. David Frye (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc., 2015). Mediaevistik 29 · 2016 243

95 Francisco de Quevedo, Dreams. A Translation from the Spanish of Los Suenos of Francisco Gomez De Quevedo y Villegas, tr. and intr. Wallace Woolsey (New York: Barrons Educational Series Inc, 1976). 96 Jon Cowans, Modern Spain: A Documentary History (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2003), 26–27. 97 Simon Barton, A History of Spain, 2nd edition (New York: Palgrave McMillan, 2009), 138. 98 1 Cor 7, 31. DV. 99 Act III, 1120–1130, 195.