Sunday, March 20, 2016

Rabelais: Pantagruel Out To Sea, Passes by the Island of Righteous Bigots

In the fourth book of Francois Rabelais' Gargantua and Pantagruel, after a discursive introduction which itself followed a rather lengthy initial dedication, the said Pantagruel took leave of his father Gargantua. To sea he went with a crew in June fitted out with a wide-ranging smattering of esoteric characters. Panurge, Gymnast, Eusthenes, Jamet Brahier for pilot, Epistemon and Imported Goods, that 'great traveler down dangerous roads', all piled aboard and shove off in the flagship Thalemège with a fleet of their own. Of course it was a festive occasion, what other better reason could there be? After all, they went to sea in order to find the oracle of the Divine Bottle. Many absurd notions and practices, peoples, kings or shysters would be seen on the open water and other far off places. They all drank a lot of wine, Rabelais assures us, and made plenty of bad calls... "... seeking wise words from the Holy Bottle."
"An old lantern hung high from the stern of the second boat, painstakingly worked in alabaster and clear mica, indicating that they meant to sail by Lanternland.
The insignia of the third boat was a magnificent porcelian drinking mug.
The fourth boat bore a two-handled gold jug, shaped like an antique urn.
The fifth bore a remarkable pitcher, made of bright green emerald.
The sixth had a monk's drinking mug, fashioned of four metals.
The seventh had an ebony funnel, decorated all over in gold wire, interwoven with other metals.
The eighth was a fabulously precious ivy goblet, covered all over with hammered Damascene gold.
The ninth: a toasting glass of delicate pure gold.
The tenth: a cup of fragrant aloe wood (as we call it), with a fringe of Cyprus gold, worked in Damascene style.
The eleventh: a gold market basket, covered with mosaic trim.
The twelth was a small barrel of gold, in a dull finish, covered with an ornamental border of great fat Indian pearls, fashioned into animal shapes.
 And it was all done so that no one, no matter how depressed or angry, no matter how sullen, sour or sad he might be -- indeed, not even Heraclitus the Weeping Pessimist -- would not feel a surge of fresh happiness, whose good spleen would not fill and flood with laughter, seeing this noble fleet of ships and their insignia -- no one who would not say simply, that these were all good drinkers, good fellows, and who would not be absolutely convinced that their voyage, both sailing away and then sailing home again, would be conducted in high spirits and in perfect good health." [pp 393-4]
They were on a mission.

Pantagruel ended up, among many other things to 'buy some very nice things on the island of Nowhere', to get a good lesson on the usefulness of messenger pigeons, to meet Dingdong and quarrel with him, to find the Island of Peace, Proxyland, the Formless and Wordless Islands, and even to abandon ship during a terrific storm. Along the way it was Imported Goods that pointed out to Pantagruel, 'from a distance' the Island of Righteous Bigots where Lent-Observance was king.

Imported Goods discouraged stopping there due to their 'meager pleasures'. But Pantagruel wants to know about this king having heard of him before. Brother John as well wanted to know since he'd seen him mentioned "in his prayer book, right after movable feasts". Imported Goods goes on for quite some time listing his analysis of what he had found of the anatomy, both internal [p. 448] and external [p. 450], of their king, and also, what he looked like [p. 452].  You can tell, Imported Goods thought little of The Island of Righteous Bigots. This is how he describes them.
"All told," he said, "what you'll see there is a great guzzler of dried peas, a great imbiber of snails, a great monkish rat-catching dreamer, a great cheapskate, a hairless half-giant with a shaved head, born of Lanternish blood and empty-headed like all his relatives, a flag waving fish eater, a mustard tyrant, a child beater, an ash cooker, father and nurse of physicians, stuffed with pardons, indulgences and church tickets, but an honest man, a good Catholic, and terribly devout. He spends three-quarters of the day crying. He never goes to weddings. And he's the best roasting skewer and spit maker you'll see for forty kingdoms around.... He feeds on dry mail shirts and helmets (sometimes with plumes, sometimes well salted)".[p.447]
Lent always seemed terribly long and dry.
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from Gargantua and Pantagruel : Burton Raffel, W.W, Norton & Company, 1990, USA

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