Court Ladies Research Articles

The Tale of Genji: Translation, Canonization, and World Literature by Michael Emmerich (review)

Reviewed by: The Tale of Genji: Translation, Canonization, and World Literature by Michael Emmerich Paul S. Atkins The Tale of Genji: Translation, Canonization, and World Literature by Michael Emmerich. New York: Columbia University Press, 2013. Pp. xv + 494. $60.00. In recent years, English-language studies of classical Japanese literature have come to emphasize the reception—as opposed to the production—of texts: how they were read, misread, not read, adapted, plagiarized, alluded to, parodied, translated, canonized, pictorialized, dramatized, and so on. In particular, the publication of Inventing the Classics: Modernity, National Identity, and Japanese Literature, edited by Haruo Shirane and Tomi Suzuki, both reflected an important scholarly trend and fueled further efforts along these lines, including the volume under review.1 Michael Emmerich’s monograph addresses several moments in the reception history of the pinnacle of the classical Japanese literary canon, The Tale of Genji (Genji monogatari 源氏物語, ca. 1008). Written by Murasaki Shikibu 紫式部 (ca. 978–ca. 1014/1025), a court lady living in the capital of Kyoto, Genji did not become an immediate classic: the low status of prose in Heian Japan relative to poetry meant that critics first treated it as a kind of frivolous entertainment. By the 1190s, however, the court poet Fujiwara no Shunzei 藤原俊成 (1114–1204) had declared Genji essential reading for waka poets, who mined its fifty-four chapters for allusive effect.2 A later boom in the composition of renga 連歌 (linked verse) created the demand for digests of the [End Page 179] tale—which runs over a thousand pages in English translation—as its language grew more remote and members of nonelite classes entered the ranks of literary practitioners. Genji inspired at least fifteen noh plays, including one that simultaneously cast the author Murasaki into Buddhist hell and portrayed her as a manifestation of a bodhisattva.3 Thirsting for a native Japanese “essence” that could withstand comparison with the immense cultural edifice of Chinese civilization, the early modern thinker Motoori Norinaga 本居宣長 (1730–1801) elevated Genji as a repository of a unique emotional sensitivity and sensibility, mono no aware 物の哀れ.4 Emmerich picks up the thread of this story in the nineteenth century. In Part I, “Ninety-Nine Years in the Life of an Image,” he discusses Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (偐紫田舎源氏 Genji country-style, by an impostor of Murasaki), a popular reworking of Genji monogatari by Ryūtei Tanehiko 柳亭種彦 (1783–1842), with illustrations in color woodblock prints by one of the all-time masters of the form, Utagawa Kunisada 歌川国貞 (1786–1865). Set in the fifteenth century, Tanehiko’s version takes as its protagonist a son of the shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa 足利義政 (1436–1490) by his favored concubine. Mitsuuji 光氏, as the fictional son is called, embarks on a mission to recover a stolen sword whose theft threatens the very survival of the Ashikaga shogunate. He adopts the guise of a reprobate playboy, dutifully seducing one woman after another in order to get closer to the object of his quest. Various characters are clearly meant as equivalents to counterparts in Genji, but the setting (sekai 世界) is dramatically different, as are the various plot twists, and Inaka Genji seems more like an Edo-style riff on Genji rather than a studious adaptation or parody. Unfortunately, when the Tokugawa shogunate banned it in 1842, the serial publication of Tanehiko’s work, which had begun in 1829, came to an abrupt end. Tanehiko died soon after, leaving his bestseller unfinished in the middle of his equivalent of the “Fujibakama” chapter, thirtieth in the original text. Eschewing a literary analysis of Inaka Genji—he gives us only [End Page 180] half a page of plot summary forty pages into the discussion (p. 88)—Emmerich instead focuses on the book’s visuality.5 The gōkan 合刊 (combined booklets) genre to which Inaka Genji belongs was distinctive for the remarkable prominence of its illustrations and a clever interplay between image and text. With close attention for detail and a clear passion for his subject, Emmerich takes us through several key moments in the work, page by page, showing through his commentary on images and text how the author and artist used the book’s format to great effect. Illustrations burst beyond the borders...

Silk Court Ladies and Gents

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“To Ben Holden Digne of Reverence”: The Tale-Telling Tactics of Chaucer’s Prioress

The Prioress’s Prologue and Tale demonstrate how a speaker’s authority can be established through internalizing existing texts and their portrayal of exemplary figures. In the tale-telling contest in the Canterbury Tales , the speakers’ social status is not as important as the moral weight and pleasure that the performance of the tale gives to the audience. In this circumstance, the Prioress establishes her stance as a tale-teller that can “ben holden digne of reverence” by performing not only the Tale, but its protagonist, whose youth, innocence, and complete reliance on the Virgin Mary make him a miracle and a wonder. Moving away from the General Prologue’s depiction of a mock courtly lady, the Prioress in her Prologue is presented as a meta-Clergeon, who gets to share the impact and influence that her protagonist has as a spectacle/miracle. By presenting the Prioress in such a way, Chaucer utilizes the medieval notion of self-formation through reading and memory and explores ways in which speakerly authority can be established.

The Monstrous New Art: Divided Forms in the Late Medieval Motet

Anna Zayaruznaya. The Monstrous New Art: Divided Forms in the Late Medieval Motet. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2015. Pp. 234 + appendices. Broadly speaking, Zayaruznaya's The Monstrous New Art is about text-music relations in the ars nova motet with a focus on the period spanning 1315 to 1370. Zayaruznaya demonstrates with aplomb that late medieval motet composers were far more sensitive to the texts they were setting than has previously been realized, responding to their matiere (or subject matter) in myriad subtle ways. Her focus is, specifically, on texts concerning fragmentation and disjunction--themes especially frequent in representations of the monstrous, but also present in works on the Trinity (three in one), the stratified body politic, and the two-faced courtly lady. The book's introduction situates the analysis it precedes within ars nova scholarship. It also justifies its focus on monsters, which are characterized, in Zayaruznaya's reading, primarily by a lack of unity. Zayaruznaya rightly notes that her findings--even as they focus on the monstrous--point towards broader aesthetic strategies in ars nova composition and, consequently, that her methodology might productively be applied to other repertoires. Chapter 1, Songs Alive, sets out to show that songs were not infrequently imagined as having bodies. Medieval theorists' zoomorphization and anthropomorphization ranged from the passing reference, such as the Summa musice's description of the cauda as a kind of tail, to full-blown metaphorical identification (e.g. Dante). Sometimes, Zayaruznaya shows, songs are treated as creatures that can both talk and travel. Such a conceit is common in the envois and tornadas of the grand chant. The chapter concludes with a discussion of Je voi/Fauvel in the Bibliotheque Nationale de France, MS. fr. 146 version of the Roman de Fauvel. Zayaruznaya convincingly reads this piece as a kind of monstrous birth of an embodied song. The final section of the chapter preemptively responds to the objection that medieval composers would not have conceived of their works as works, let alone works with shapes (instead, the argument goes, they would have conceived of them as sounding events). In response, Zayaruznaya proposes a creature concept of composition (p. 66). While not exclusively about ars nova motets, the chapter's analyses set up what is to follow in that they show the creative interrelations of songs and sundry creatures. The main strength of this chapter lies in its demonstration of the commonality--corporeality--underlying many theorists' discussion of song, envois, and pieces such as Machaut's famous Ma fin est mon commencement and Tout par compas, whose shapes are explicitly thematized. The second chapter, How (not) to Write a Motet: The Exemplary In virtute/Decens, turns to Phillipe de Vitry's motet and its depiction of the monster evoked in Horace's Ars poetica via tale a and hocket. …

Dvorske dame u srednjovjekovnoj Bosni / Court Ladies in Medieval Bosnia

In this paper, the author attempts to define the term court lady. He traces the development of court culture which spread from the Frankish Kingdom to the rest of medieval Europe. The social position of Bosnian court ladies is compared with the one enjoyed by their contemporaries on other courts of some European countries. The author mentions names of several court ladies that are related to medieval Bosnia.

浮舟物語と正篇世界 : 女房「侍従」「右近」から

浮舟物語と正篇世界 : 女房「侍従」「右近」から

『源氏物語』の妻妾の呼称 ――光源氏の妻妾の呼称の独自性――

『源氏物語』の妻妾の呼称 ――光源氏の妻妾の呼称の独自性――

“I cluppe and I cusse as I wood wore”: Erotic Imagery in Middle English Mystical Writings

The mutual influences of the medieval discourse of courtly love and the literary visions of divine love have long been recognized by readers of medieval lyrical poetry and devotional writings. They are especially visible in the affinities between the language used to construct the picture of the ideal courtly lady and the images of the Virgin Mary. Praises of Mary’s physical beauty, strewn with erotic implications, are an example of a strictly male eroticization of the medieval Marian discourse, rooted in Bernard of Clairvaux’s allegorical reading of the Song of Songs, where Mary is imagined as the Bride of the poem, whose “breasts are like two young roes that are twins” (Cant. of Cant. 4:5). Glimpses of medieval female erotic imagination, also employed to express religious meanings, can be found in the writings of the mystical tradition: in England in the books of visions of Margery Kempe, in the anonymous seers of the fourteenth century, and, to some extent, in Julian of Norwich. Though subdued by patriarchal politics and edited by male amanuenses, the female voice can still be heard in the extant texts as it speaks of mystical experience by reference to bodily, somatic and, sometimes, erotic sensations in a manner different from the sensual implications found in the poetry of Marian adoration. The bliss of mystic elation, the ultimate union with God, is, in at least one mystical text, confidently metaphorized as an ecstatic, physical union with the human figure of Christ hanging on the cross.

조선 후기 왕실 복식의 염색 문화

This study explores the culture surrounding the dyeing of royal garments in the late Joseon Dynasty. The findings of this study are as follows. First, several dyes were used to color royal garments, such as jicho, honghwa, danmok, simhwang, sambo, goehwa, chija, and namjong. Mordants such as maesil, hwanghoemok, yeohoe, and baekban were also used with the dyes. Second, the Sangeuiwon (尙衣院) was the department in charge of the purchasing of dyes and the entire dyeing practice. It was the Seonhyecheong (宣惠廳) and the Hojo (戶曹) who provided revenue to the Sangeuiwon through a wongong, regular tribute, and a bokjeong (supplementary tribute). Additionally, additional dyes, if found to be insufficient, could be provided by the Hojo. Every year the Hojo provided jicho, honghwa, and danmok to the Sangeuiwon, and sometimes imported namjong from China. Third, royal garments were, in most cases, dyed by the Sangeuiwon's professional dyers and court ladies belonging to the sewing department in each palace. Naenongpo (內農圃) eunuchs were in charge of the indigo crops of each palace. Finally, more dye was used in royal garments than in the clothes of commoners to obtain a deeper shade of color. In addition, dyers tried to achieve a clear and vivid tone in their garments. Silk which absorbed color relatively easily, was dyed inside the palace using an ice vat filled with fresh indigo leaves; however, cotton was difficult to dye and was sent to professional indigo dyers outside the palace.

Sin and Redemption in the Hours of François I (1539–40) by the Master of François de Rohan

Sin and Redemption in the <i>Hours of François I</i> (1539–40) by the Master of François de Rohan

御産所と都市社会

The empress and the court ladies gave a birth to emperor's baby at the delivery place. This study focuses on the emperor Reigen's court ladies and the delivery places, and reveals the followings.The royal family located the delivery place according to its own rule consisting of the 3 points following: 1)At first it should be located at the residence of her parents. 2)If that was difficult it was decided by the fortune direction and precedents. 3)According to her class the noble residence and the townsman's house was used.At the case of using the townsman's house, the balance between the rule and the intent of shogunate and townsman sometimes broke down and became conflicted. Therefore the emperor Reigen shifted the rules, and led them to the new balance.

Women’s Power in Late Medieval Romance by Amy N. Vines (review)

Reviewed by: Women’s Power in Late Medieval Romance by Amy N. Vines Roger Nicholson Vines, Amy N., Women’s Power in Late Medieval Romance (Studies in Medieval Romance), Cambridge, D. S. Brewer, 2011; hardback; pp. 184; 3 illustrations; R.R.P. £55.00; ISBN 9781843842750. As its title suggests, Women’s Power in Late Medieval Romance investigates the scope and kind of authority displayed by leading female characters in late medieval English romances. It quickly becomes clear, however, that Amy Vines is especially concerned to demonstrate that this power is itself instructive: if it reflects late medieval social realities, it also lays out patterns of agency (or at least ‘methods of influence’ (p. 3)) for the necessarily attentive woman reader. The collective lesson articulated in these romances is so potent, indeed, that this instruction also serves to alert male readers to the advantages it elaborates for them, as for the women in their lives. Crucial to this argument is Vines’s claim that romance does not just deliver exemplary histories, but catches the reader into them, by presenting women’s agency, influence, authority in action, in parallel process, as it were. The point is important, since it supports the author’s conviction that romances provide in themselves substantial evidence of women’s cultural activity, rather than simply serving to illustrate findings drawn from more sober records. It also brings us immediately to one of the book’s major limitations. The term used by Vines to characterize women’s authority is ‘sponsorship’, clearly drawn from modern, American culture, but drawn into teasing proximity to the influence exercised by the powerful in an apparently remote medieval culture, where patronage binds person to person – if not [End Page 290] normally in relation to commercial or cultural enterprises. I think there is a translation problem here, alas, of the kind described by Gideon Toury, where ‘textual relations obtaining in the original are modified in favour of (more) habitual options offered by the target culture’ (Descriptive Translation Studies – And Beyond (2012), p. 304). All too often, Vines seems to write as if she were uneasy about the difficulties of performing the kind of cultural translation called for in dealing with medieval texts. The particular form of sponsorship favoured by Vines proves not to be particularly corporate, in fact, let alone financial, but rather courtly and tutorial. The woman sponsor, confident of her surprising education in various kinds of scientific and chivalric knowledge inducts the frail male into ways of knowing and acting that assure his noble status, even hero-hood; this is heroic woman as business mentor. This mode of influence, of course, turns the blue-stockinged reader into a courtly lady, as much as it proves the courtly lady should manage to secure the advantages of the blue-stocking in a household that typically spent too much on its young men. Nevertheless, despite my reservations about the modelling, Vines does identify a peculiarly interesting form of powerful woman in romance, interesting not least because the real world equivalents all too often seem to serve patriarchal society, rather than engage with it, as these romance women do, circumspectly, but with full confidence in their agency. Not all Vines’s women are confident, but most are – and all demand our attention: Criseyde and Cassandra in Troilus and Criseyde, Cleopes in Metham’s self-serving Amoryus and Cleopes, Melior in Partenope of Blois, and the queenly pair in Sir Launfal, Guinevere and Dame Tryamour. To list these characters, however, is to register the manifest shortcomings of Vines’s presentation of a perfectly reasonable argument about women’s authority: they don’t provide much of a database. Indeed, one might argue against Vines that the women in this small selection are worth reading precisely because they are exceptional, in belonging to romances that probably never circulated far, or by occupying roles that command respect, but briefly. More important, the force of much of Vines’s discussion tends to remain within the chapter, in analysis of the text, rather than operate through the book, as an argument. Text-studies, then, supplemented by recurrent invocation of a set of terms, carry what passes here for argument, but amounts to...

The 'Fox and Ape' Verse in Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost

THE verse in question, repeated twice in the play (c. 1594), once half and once in full, seems to be a satirical joke or riddle whose full meaning is lost to modern readers. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three. Until the goose came out of door, And stay’d the odds by adding four. (Love’s Labour’s Lost, III.i.79–92)1 The lines may contain a topical allusion to Walter Raleigh’s affair in 1591–2 with Elizabeth Throckmorton, one of the queen’s maids of honour. Raleigh was often judged a crafty Machiavellianist, and was called ‘fox’ by his opponents.2 But the rhyme also seems to have a general drift: All animals of the quatrain personify human vices—more specifically, typical vices of court life, particularly (as will be shown) in amorous matters. The fox, a notable fable character, stands for cunning, guile, dissimulation, and intrigue. In Shakespeare, the ‘humble-bee’ is emblematic, too, as analogies in All’s Well That Ends Well (IV.v.6) and Troilus and Cressida (V.x.41) show: the insect’s colouring and ‘buzzing’ indicate a foppishly dressed courtier busy in his lord’s love affairs.3 The goose also carries sexual overtones: Notorious are the ‘Winchester geese’, the prostitutes of the bankside brothels south of the City of London (Troilus and Cressida, V.x.53; 1 Henry VI, I.iii.53). And the ‘broad goose’ in a frivolously witty exchange in Romeo and Juliet (II.iv.72–84), paralleled by the ‘fat goose’ and ‘green goose’ in our play (Love’s Labour’s Lost, III.i.98 and IV.iii.71), is presumably meant to echo the obscene meaning of Italian ‘oca’.4 So three of the four animals in the verse stand for amatory escapades among courtiers and court ladies.

Korean Buddhist Nuns and Laywomen: Hidden Histories, Enduring Vitality (review)

Reviewed by: Korean Buddhist Nuns and Laywomen: Hidden Histories, Enduring Vitality Shi Zhiru, Associate Professor of Buddhist Studies and Chinese Religions Korean Buddhist Nuns and Laywomen: Hidden Histories, Enduring Vitality. Edited by Eun-su Cho, Albany: State University of New York Press, 2011, xiii, 210 p. Due to the paucity of written records, it is difficult to attempt historical reconstruction of the lives of Buddhist women in East Asia. Happily, in the last decade, book-length historical studies of female monasticism in China and Japan have appeared, notably Beata Grant's Eminent Nuns: Women Chan Masters of Seventeenth-Century China (University of Hawai'i Press, 2008) and Lori Meeks' Hokkeji and the Reemergence of Female Monastic Orders in Pre-Modern Japan (University of Hawai'i Press, 2010). Another first book is Elsie DeVido's short monograph, Taiwan's Buddhist Nuns (State University of New York Press, 2010), a historical study of contemporary nuns in Taiwan. In this range of studies, Korea is visibly absent from this burgeoning scholarship on female monasticism in East Asia. This is particularly odd at a time when nuns constitute half of the ordained population in the largest Korean Buddhist order, the Chogye-jong (p. 35). Two popular publications on Korean nuns have recently appeared (Martine Bachelor, Women in Korean Zen: Lives and Practice, Syracuse University Press, 2006; Daehaeng Sunim, No River to Cross: Trusting the Enlightenment That's Always Right Here, Wisdom Publications, 2007). However, thus far there has been no book-length scholarly publication on the topic. Hence, Korean Buddhist Nuns and Laywomen: Hidden Histories, Enduring Vitality is a long overdue contribution, which bridges this lacuna in modern English-language scholarship. The book's eight chapters provide historical vignettes of the lives and work of Korean Buddhist women. Portrayals of their unwavering dedication, resourcefulness, and strength are contextualized within broader intellectual, political, and social environments. Chapter 1, the editor's Introduction, sets forth the scholarly and religious backgrounds for studying Korean Buddhist women. Eun-su Cho explains that the relative neglect of female practitioners [End Page 187] on the part of both scholars and practitioners of Korean Buddhism is the outcome of three obstacles: the dearth of primary textual sources; the nuns' tendencies to represent themselves through inherited traditional (and often sectarian) views; and the problematic of applying Western feminist or gender theories to Korean contexts. Chapter 2, also by Cho, gives a useful historical overview that coherently organizes the themes, chronological periods, or individual women in the other chapters into a broader religious history from the arrival of Buddhism to Korea in the fourth century up to the contemporary times. Cho addresses the question why female monasticism was able to outlive centuries of suppression during the pro-Confucian trends and the often anti-Buddhist sentiments of Chosŏn rule (1392-1910) and the four decades of Japanese colonial rule (1910-1945), to emerge as a vital force in contemporary Korea. While acknowledging the religiosity and strengths of women, she ultimately attributes the tenacious vitality of the female order to changes in Korean society, economy, and women's status (pp. 36-38). Chapters 3 and 4 analyze elite Buddhist nuns and laywomen of the Koryŏ period (935-1392). In Chapter 3, Young Mi Kim shows the reader glimpses of the religious opportunities and practices elite Buddhist nuns of Later Koryŏ had access to, whereas in Chapter 4, Tonino Puggioni turns to Koryŏ court ladies living abroad in China and explores their substantial contributions to local Korean Buddhist temples and communities. Using writings, letters, and even the epitaph of Chin-gak Hyesim (1178-1234), Young shows that this eminent Sŏn monk accepted female disciples to whom he imparted the technique of hwadu meditation. Hyesim taught that women could also achieve awakening on the grounds that all living beings regardless of their innate abilities could attain Buddhahood through hwadu meditation. As his teaching was contrary to the mainstream position of Sŏn teachers of his time, Hyesim represents "the most progressive male view about women's Buddhist practice in Korean history" (p. 9). Hyesim's relationship with his female disciples, including his written communication with them, is reminiscent of the Song dynasty Chan monk Dahui...

Winterströme: Goethes erste Harzreise , and: Im Labyrinth der Täler: Goethes zweite Harzreise , and: Die Würde der Steine: Goethes dritte Harzreise (review)

Bernd Wolff, Winterstrome: Goethes erste Harzreise. Dornach: Pforte, 1986. 294 pp.; Im Labyrinth der Taler: Goethes zweite Harzreise. Dornach: Pforte, 2004. 363 pp.; Die Wurde der Steine: Goethes dritte Harzreise. Dornach: Pforte, 2008. 407 pp. Bernd Wolff, author of poetry and children's books, grew up in Wernigerode in the Harz, and now lives in Blankenburg. He has published illustrated books on the Harz and was fachlicher Berater for television programs on Goethe's Harz journeys. He clearly knows the Harz through which Goethe traveled in 1777, 1783, and 1784. Though he is not a professional Germanist, these novels are evidence of an enviable knowledge of Goethe's oeuvre, the eighteenth-century Weimar milieu in which he lived and worked, and the human and geological history of the Harz and of Saxony. Each novel focuses on one of Goethe's three journeys. Featured players include the well and the less well known: Carl August, Anna Amalia, Georg Melchior Kraus, Goethe's servant and factotum Christoph Sutor, Friedrich Victor Plessing, Charlotte von Stein, Fritz von Stein, Anna Maria Antonia Bianconi, Carl Johann Matthaei, and the mining superintendent Friedrich Wilhelm von Trebra. Walk-on parts are occupied by the familiar and the more obscure: Luise von Gochhausen, a terribly insecure Duchess Luise Auguste, Josias von Stein (absorbed more in his horses than in his wife), Goethe's cook Dorothee Wagenknecht (who disturbs his peace with her singing), Fritz Jacobi, Domherr von Berg in Halberstadt, the poet Gleim, Luise von Hartefeld (mistress of Carl Wilhelm Ferdinand, Duke of Brunswick), and Johann Joachim Eschenburg. The background is filled with figures one has heard of but whose position in Goethe's life one might not be able to place: Emilie von Werthern, Adelaide von Waldner, and Sophie von Schardt, to name a few. We attend Duchess Luise's birthday, a somber affair in view of the recent loss of a child (thus, a reading from Herder's work in progress, Ideen zur Philosophie der Geschichte der Menschheit) .There are even intimate tete-a-tetes between Carl August and his mother concerning his marital duties as well as state policy. Mostly Anna Amalia sits around with court ladies gossiping while drinking tea from porcelain cups. Such court happenings serve as a contrast to the Harz world Goethe explores. Thus, we are introduced to such man-made wonders as the Rehberger Graben, completed in the early seventeenth century to regulate the Oder, and to the legends behind the Rostrappe and, of course, to the Teufelskanzel and the Hexenaltar on the Brocken. We make the perilous descent into mines with Goethe. Some are very deep, up to 520 meters, and some (e.g., Rammelsberg) were important sources of revenue in the Middle Ages already, forming self-sufficient communities in which, for instance, no agricultural work was allowed, the better to exploit their potential. Since Goethe was present, we are even privy to the ruminations of the powerful - the Duke of Brunswick and Carl von Hardenberg-Reventlow - at the secret negotiations in Brunswick in connection with plans for the Furstenbund. Carl Wilhelm Ferdinand appears here in a moment of transition, after his brilliant military successes, while he was devoting himself to his enlightened ruler intentions, and before the period of defeat as portrayed in Campagne in Frankreich .We read of boar hunting, of clouds, of the accommodations at inns, of the Boten who led Goethe through the Harz, of Eierkuchen, of butterflies. I refrain from going on. Wolff of course has a more serious purpose than trotting out details of natural and human history. The Harz journeys, though closely connected with Goethe's mining and mineralogical duties and interests, offer a framework for exploring his first decade in Weimar. Thus, Wolff attempts to show the effect of the journeys on Goethe's literary conceptions and also his developing interest in the natural sciences: not only Harzreise im Winter and Die Geheimnisse but also the granite essays, the osteological work, and ultimately the Spinozist worldview. …

Mutual Masochism and the Hermaphroditic Courtly Lady in Chaucer's Franklin's Tale

Mutual Masochism and the Hermaphroditic Courtly Lady in Chaucer's Franklin's Tale

Multicultural Experiences and Faction in Early Modern East Asia - With a focus on Lee Shim, A Joseon Court Lady in Paris by Kim Tak-hwan -

Multicultural Experiences and Faction in Early Modern East Asia - With a focus on Lee Shim, A Joseon Court Lady in Paris by Kim Tak-hwan -

A Study on the Office System and Life of Court Ladies in Goryeo

A Study on the Office System and Life of Court Ladies in Goryeo

La dame courtoise et la littérature dans Les Miracles de Nostre Dame de Gautier de Coinci

The courtly lady and literature in Les miracles de nostre dame by Gautier The prominent position given to women and love is characteristic of courtly ideology. Les miracles de Nostre Dame in French is an attempt to compete with this literature. Gautier de Coinci denounces the devastation wreaked by fin’amor, which he condemns as immoral. This in no way prevents him from repeating all the motifs of the courtly depictions of love. He advances the immaculate model of the Empress, a married courtly lady, beautiful and faithful even to the point of martyrdom. The noblest union is that with God in the consecrated life. A holy friendship between a man and a woman is also possible, even beneficial. The courtly lady par excellence is the Virgin Mary, who is the true feminine ideal. It is entirely appropriate to refer to this perspective as “an attempt to convert” or “the evangelization of profane culture.” This perspective is also perceptible in lyric poetry which, through a process of “forgery, ” echoes the forms of profane lyric poetry in order to redirect it. The poet also mines the hymnological tradition, establishing a fruitful link between the profane and the sacred, which are interwoven.

Abstracts: The effect of rinse water obtained from the washing of rice (YU‐SU‐RU) as a hair treatment

pp.29–33 We researched the histories of the hairstyles and hair care practices of Japanese women, and found a very close relationship between the two. For example, the court ladies of the Heian Period, whose beautiful long hair, called suberakashi, reached to the floor, were said to have combed their hair each day using Yu‐Su‐Ru (rinse water obtained from the washing of rice) . Rice is considered to be the most important food in the Japanese diet, and the historical fact that rice was used for hair care is very interesting. We therefore focused our attention on the Yu‐Su‐Ru hair care practice in the Heian Period, and examined its effects on hair. As a result, we found that Yu‐Su‐Ru exhibited hair care effects, such as reducing surface friction and increasing hair elasticity. However, when hair was treated with Yu‐Su‐Ru alone, flaking was observed on the hair surface, and the direct application of Yu‐Su‐Ru was considered difficult. Thus, Yu‐Su‐Ru extracts, which are highly effective in hair care and do not cause flaking were examined. The results showed that Yu‐Su‐Ru extracts had multiple functions for hair care at the same time. Thus, the new application of Yu‐Su‐Ru for hair care was discovered.