Batgrl (Book Data Kept Elsewhere) > Recent Status Updates

Canto XXIX, 63 - As part of his insanity Orlando seems to be giving a lot of animals a hard time:
"...He punches Medoro's horse. It falls to the ground
instantly, dead as a stone."

Canto XXIX, 57 - after Orlando rips someone in half:
"...Our Turpin heard
of his account and wrote of it - if you seek
authority for this, you have the word
of that Archbishop. (I would never sneak
fictions into this narrative but have referred
to the best and most trustworthy accounts that I
can find. Do I exaggerate? That I deny!)"

Canto XXIX, 52
"He's naked, he's crazy, his eyes are rolling, but he's still Orlando after all...
He does not deign to speak, but with his mouth shut
he gives them an answer as clear as clear can be,
kicking the donkey in the chest to send
it high in the air where it sails end over end.
----
The donkey flies about a mile away and lands on a hill.

Canto XXIX, 42 - Orlando runs mad:
"...He does not look formidable for he
is going about in the nude. It would be politer
to put on pants, perhaps, but courtesy
seems not to weigh much with him. He's either tight or
out of his mind."

If you like Stephen Fry and you're interested in various discussions on the history of the F Word, you have a few more days to listen to Fry's English Delight: WTF, series 6 episode 4 on BBC Radio 4.

My 25 year old paperback of Emily Dickinson was a bad choice - hardback wouldn't be losing its binding so quickly, and pages are about to come loose. But honestly it's the perfect thing to eventually get in ebook form for hopping around to the poems I like. This time I'm listing those in a digital file.

SO amused at what GoodReads pulled up from Orlando Furioso:



Something is weird is afoot in book-reference-programmingland.

Canto XXIII, 128 - many cantos of him upset over Angelica marrying another:
"I am not Orlando. He is dead
and buried. This is a ghost, a zombie, or
some wraith from the underworld whose heart it lead.
She did this to me, she! All you who adore
some maiden with your soul, listen instead
to my sad story of wretchedness and more
disgrace than I can describe."
--
And there's been LOTS of crying and wailing too.

Canto XXIII, 52 - Gabrino falsely accuses Zerbino of a murder:
The morning dawns in particular splendor with blue
skies bedecked with yellow and roseate clouds,
but the mood of the streets is utterly black and you
can hear shouts of "Death to him" from the crowds.
---
But hey, at least it's a nice day for an execution.

Canto XXIII, 20 - Bradamante sees her home in the distance:
...she sees Montalban - which would be very good
except that to go and visit her family will
delay her meeting with Ruggiero. Should
she stop to visit, they will detain her there.
She's in love, but will her family care?
---But then she meets her brother on the road and so she has to go home and not to meet Ruggiero. Poor thing.

Canto XXII, 63 - back to one of the women in armor in our story (who seem to enjoy defeating pretty knights more than the rest):
Bradamante thought he was pretty and she
wanted to have the honor of knocking him off
his high horse.
...She didn't argue about this but would be
a spectator. She knew she would have enough
opportunity later, here or in town,
to display her talent for knocking strong men down.

Astolfo, a man torn between a newly found hippogryph to ride and Rabican, the horse who loves him. And whom he loves right back - and can't just leave behind with no one to look after. Multiple cantos on this dilemma. Horses get a lot of attention in this poem.
(Dore illustration of hippogryph from this book)

Canto XXII, 16 - the excitement of an index in 1500s:
He sees that he's been in this room before and he
begins to understand that the palace might
somehow be enchanted. But fortunately
he remembers the book that Logistilla one night
in India had given him. There, you see,
were charms and magic spells an errant knight
might need to know about from wicked mages.
Its index sent him at once to the proper pages.

Canto XXII, 1 - apology to the reader:
You ladies, pleasant, courteous, and constant,
with but a single lover, let me say
that nothing I've written about Gabrina was meant
to apply to any of you in any way,
for few of you are like her. (One percent?)
I shouldn't like to displease you but, if I may,
I am obliged to resume my excoriation
of her as I return to our narration.

Canto XXI, 60
"...With deadly poison (what other kind is there?)"
----
I love it when the poem asks the questions that I'm thinking.

The old woman is Gabrina who was in love with a knight Philander (who refused her) so she falsely accused him of rape - very Joseph and Potiphar's wife - Gabrina's husband was Phil's friend. And then she triecked Phil into murdering her husband, and then escape with her. Then she had Phil poisoned. She is indeed evil, but Zerbino's stuck with her.

Canto XX, 134 - poet reminds us of Zerbino love life, which was many pages back:
...he was none
other than the man of whom the poor
Isabella had told her with many a moan
and sigh a while back in that cave. (And your
recollection, too, I think may need
some help, unless you remember all that you read.)

Canto XX, 125 - Zerbino and Marfisa joust over old woman:
"Okay, okay," Marfisa agreed. "We'll trade.
The loser gets to keep her. And the winner
walks away. Your ardor for the maid
is minimal, it appears. Although her inner
beauty is great, as cannot be gainsaid,
on the outside she is rather a dog's dinner.
If you should lose to me you'll take her where -
ever she wants to go. Does that sound fair?"

Twain is overwhelmed with work, his editor on vacation: "a few days later, [editor] received a copy of the Enterprise in his mail. The stories on one page libeled twenty prominent Nevadans and questioned the virtue of the town's most prominent women. ...the editor galloped back to Virginia City an found Twain relaxing in a bar. Twain had printed only one copy of the paper..."

On BBC Radio 4: Votes for Women, a 1907 suffrage play by Elizabeth Robins. It's a bit long (1hr30min), but it's also a type of play you'd not often see performed/hear. Lots of books and plays were written about suffrage at the time, but not many are read/performed now.

Canto XX, 3
In our own age, fair women of talent and
worth are everywhere and deserve that pen
and paper record their prowess and their grand
achievements, so that in the future, when
people study our times they will understand
the excellence of the ladies. Only then
will envious anti-feminist chatter at last
cease, as even Marfisa's fame is surpassed.

Canto XX, 2
Women have achieved in every art
and craft the highest distinction, and their fame
is great indeed. They're strong and they are smart.
Without them history couldn't have been the same.
I rather think it is envy on men's part
that keeps concealed the honor and acclaim
they have deserved. If their work is not taught in schools,
it is because men are jealous - or are fools.

Canto XIX, 87
...She cleaves his skull lengthwise as in those cunning
figures of the head you find on stands
in doctor's office. The model explains
what the parts are from the skull inside to the brains.

Canto XIX, 73
The discussion among the knights seems to have stalled.
Which of them should attempt to perform the feats
of this biathlon? They're not quite appalled
but puzzled, say, when Marfisa says that the meets
are well within her competence. Is this a bald
lie? What has she planned for between the sheets?
If there is one who has guessed or who may think he
has the answer, hush! It's rather kinky.

Canto XIX, 65
They anchor the ship and six thousand women swarm
down to the harbor, all of them armed with bows
and spears. (For certain tastes this has some charm.)

Canto XIX, 57
This part of the Syrian coast, the captain explains,
is owned by weird and murderous females whose
ancient laws put males either in chains
or else to death. For that brave soul who may choose
to escape this dismal fate, their law ordains
that he must fight ten men and never lose,
and if he succeeds at this, must show his might
by bedding ten of their maidens that same night.

Canto XIX, 34
The nuptials over, they spend their honeymoon
right there in the herdman's cottage where they abide
for more than a month, and, morning, night, and noon,
they can't get enough of each other, now inside
and now outdoors by a brook they would commune.
It seems that neither can be satisfied,
nor their appetites for one another sated
in a passion that continues unabated.

Canto XIX, 20 Angelica sees Medoro:
She saw the wounded youth growing ever weaker.
When she heard the details of his story she
was smitten, she thought by pity, but the wreaker
of that pain was Love (as we know him to be).
Her haughty hardened heart was softer and meeker
as she saw the cost of his nobility
of spirit. And in addition to all of these
qualities, his looks did not fail to please.

So Zerbino is terribly impressed with the plea of Medoro to bury his king - because "modesty, the chivalric selflessness" are things he admires. And here I should mention that Zerbino is the son of the King of Scotland. Which always makes me pause to ponder how Scottish that name could actually be.

Canto XIX, 11 - Medoro, caught in enemy territory:
"Allow me to bury the body of my king.
I ask no quarter for myself. You may
do with my corpse what you like, but I should bring
the proper honors to my liege today.
For me? As Theban Creon, unpitying,
decreed for Polyneices."