164

Wolfram von Eschenbach: Parzival 165

Wolfram von Eschenbach

(c.1170-1220)

    Wolfram’s Parzival is rightly regarded as one of the great works of Western literature. It presents a search for the noblest of goals in a society which is idealized but not sentimental, religious but not dogmatic. The work contains much humor and adventure, bright descriptions of courtly life, as well as serious discussions of the destiny of man. Its overall structure is brilliantly conceived and executed, yet individual scenes and motifs often seem to be loosely narrated or left in suspense. It is a work full of mysteries and contradictions.

    Of its author we know little except what he tells us himself. It is now regarded as certain that he was born at Wolframs-Eschenbach, a small village near Ansbach, in Bavaria. He prides himself on being a true knight, primarily concerned with the bearing of arms—not with the writing of poetry. He, like Hartmann von Aue, was of the service nobility, that is, he had no land of his own and was forced to rely on patronage from or employment by greater nobles. One of these was landgrave Hermann von Thüringen—the sometime patron of Walther von der Vogelweide—whose court he is believed to have visited. In spite of his protestations in Parzival that he "does not know a single letter," it is hard to believe that he was uneducated. In all probability he wished to poke fun at Hartmann von Aue and Gottfried von Straßburg, who call attention to their learning. Certainly he has a wealth of information at his disposal, sometimes ill-digested and quite possibly acquired by listening rather than reading. His style departs quite deliberately from the clarity of Hartmann and Gottfried, both in vocabulary and structure, and succeeds in thoroughly mystifying the reader.

    Parzival is a Grail romance, the earliest complete Grail romance in European literature. The etymology of the word "grail" is still violently disputed (Span. sangre real [‘blood of the King’] > santo grial > Holy Grail?). In Christian tradition the Grail was the cup used to drink the wine at the Last Supper and, in some versions, was the cup used to catch the blood that flowed from the crucified. It was preserved by Joseph of Arimathea, who was imprisoned by the Jews and was miraculously kept alive by the vessel.¹ According to the account given in a poem by Robert de Boron (the History of the Romance of the Grail, written about 1200) as well as later prose versions of the story, Joseph collected a band of followers, some of whom were exposed as sinners by their inability to see the vessel and were ousted from the group. The band finally came to Britain, where Joseph was buried; he was succeeded by Alan and ultimately by Perceval. It is basically this Christian tradition of the Grail that appears, naturally with many variations, in the French prose versions of the Grail romances and in Malory’s (1408-1471) Morte d’Arthur.

    There is, however, very little reference to this tradition in Wolfram’s work or in that of his source, Chrétien de Troyes. Some critics believe that many of the features of the Grail, for example, its ability to feed people with all the food they desire, is derived from Celtic mythology. The vessel is not a chalice in the work of either Chrétien or Wolfram, but a large dish and a stone, respectively. Thus it seems unlikely that either author drew only on the Christian tradition. Chrétien’s poem is unfinished; he does not at any time definitely associate the Grail with Christianity, although he does mention that the vessel contained a holy wafer. For Wolfram, the Grail is definitely Christian. It receives its powers from a wafer brought down from Heaven by a dove every Good Friday. Yet nowhere in the poem are there the strong Christian features found in the French prose tradition.

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    Careful comparisons have shown that Chrétien de Troyes’s Perceval or Li Contes del Graal (date uncertain; perhaps 1194) was the main source of Wolfram’s work. Although Wolfram adds a long prologue about the double marrriage of Gahmuret, Parzival’s father, which is of great importance for the later development of the story and for which there is not even the remotest basis in Chrétien’s poem, the ensuing incidents described are those of the French work. We hear of Parzival’s childhood in the wilderness, his meetings with the knights, his departure for Arthur’s court, his killing of the Red Knight, his education by Gurnemans, rescue of Conduir-amour (called Blancheflur by Chrétien) and marriage to her, and his unsuccessful visit to the Grail castle. Both poems tell of his return to Arthur’s court and the denunciation by the Ugly Damsel (Wolfram’s Cundrie), which causes him to leave without being admitted to the Round Table. Perhaps most significant is that Wolfram has taken from Chrétien the long account of the adventures of Gawan, which comprise most of the latter part of the French poem. There is only one more incident involving Perceval before the French poem breaks off.

    There can be no doubt that the main structure and almost all the incidents have been borrowed from Chrétien. Yet Wolfram denies this specifically near the end of his work. One can only ascribe this to his desire to mystify, and probably it was whimsy that led him to state that the true source of the poem was a work by "Kyot." If "Kyot" stands for ‘Guiot,’ as seems probable, and if, in turn, ‘Guiot’ was a familiar diminutive for Gui de Provençe (an historical personage none of whose extant works could have been a source for Parzival), then Kyot could not have been the ‘true source’ of the poem. But Guiot could also stand for ‘Guillaume’?a common enough name?and we cannot be certain that there was no such person who wrote a poem that contributed something to Wolfram’s work, for there are many features in which Parzival is far removed from Perceval. The introduction of Belacane, the heathen queen by whom Gahmuret has a son (Fairefis), means that the end of the work, where the two brothers meet and where Fairefis marries one of the virgin attendants to the Grail, must necessarily have departed form the French source. Moreover, the scene in which Parzival appears during the recital of the adventures of Gawan is very different in the two works. Chrétien shows us a humble and repentant Perceval visiting the hermit’s cave and taking part in a normal church service there. Wolfram, in a scene nine times as long, describes in detail how Parzival, still proud and unrepentant even though he knows he is in a state of sin, is told by the brother of the Fisher King Anfortas of the dangers of pride and the need for humility and submission to God’s will.

    It is possible, of course, that Wolfram may have found some of these ideas in other sources, but most likely they are mainly his own. Even in scenes closely modeled on those in Chrétien’s poem, he makes significant changes. The first meeting with Conduir-amour, as rendered by Wolfram, is free of any sexual elements, whereas the corresponding French scene is quite the reverse. The role of Sigune, Parzival’s cousin, whose lover has been killed and who mourns him throughout the work, is given more significance in Parzival than in Perceval, and she, like many other characters, is named by Wolfram but not by Chrétien.

    The real difference between the two works, however, lies in their respective purposes. Chrétien is concerned entirely with the education of a crude young knight. Whether he would have turned into a Christian knight, we can only speculate. Certainly some contrast with the courtly Gawan must have been intended. Parzival also starts out as untutored, but he is innocent, not stupid. He must learn that true knighthood involves not only prowess (Gawan has that) but purpose (Zweckgebundenheit) and, particularly, humility and submission to God’s will. There is little evidence of a Grail company in Chrétien’s poem, but in Parzival the attainment of the office of Grail king means the opportunity to use knighthood for good ends. In other words, the Grail company is a special order, oriented toward religion. It stands higher than the court of Arthur.

    Thus the structure of Parzival, with all its complexity of detail, is really simple. In one series of episodes it tells of the slow and stumbling progress of an outstanding man toward the highest earthly responsibilities. In parallel incidents, it tells of a knight’s adventures that have already been recognized by

Wolfram von Eschenbach: Parzival 167
 
 

his peers as unmatched. These exploits follow the courtly tradition and lead to a great deal of personal satisfaction for Gawan—they have no higher purpose than this. The introduction of Fairefis gives Wolfram the opportunity to show that pagans too, as soon as they are baptized, are capable of the highest attainments.

    Wolfram’s style, as already remarked, is often tortured and obscure, and he has a penchant for digressing, even in the middle of a serious scene, solely to produce humorous effects. There are also some long battle scenes in which the technical interests of the man of arms seem to get the better of the writer of romances. His versification, too, is less smooth than that of either Hartmann or Gottfried, but what he lacks in polish he amply makes up for in vigor. The work contains 24,810 lines and is written in the usual form for narrative works: rhyming couplets with four stresses to the line, although in many cases the final stress falls on a syllable normally unaccented.

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Wolfram von Eschenbach

Parzival

Wolfram von Eschenbach: Parzival 169
 
 

Wolfram von Eschenbach

Parzival

The work begins with a prologue that reflects upon all earthly life: there is much that is black and much that is white, and a man is not lost eternally if he doubts but only if he despairs. Much of the prologue is in language so obscure that we can only guess at Wolfram’s meaning. It is possible that he is replying to critics (among them perhaps Gottfried von Straßburg), who had read parts of the poem written earlier, by claiming ‘authority’ and ‘purpose’ in high-flown metaphors not intended to be taken seriously. He makes it clear, however, that it is his intention to portray his idea of a noble man and noble women. Wolfram does not by any means share the ‘courtly’ attitude toward women. Chastity, purity, and fidelity are his ideals, and love should be married love. Cf. 468: 1-10.
 
 

(1) Lebt das Herz mit der Verzweiflung, / so wird es höllisch für die Seele. / Häßlich ist es und ist schön, / wo der Sinn des Manns von Mut

(5) gemischt ist, farblich kontrastiert, / gescheckt wie eine Elster. / Und doch kann er gerettet werden, / denn er hat an beidem teil: / am Himmel wie der Hölle.

(10) Der Freund des schwankenden Gemütes: / er ist völlig schwarz gefärbt / und gleicht auch bald der Finsternis; / dagegen hält sich an das Lichte, / der innerlich gefestigt ist.

[...]

(4) Erzähl euch die Geschichte neu,

(10) die von treuer Liebe handelt, / von echter Weiblichkeit der Frau / und wahrer Männlichkeit des Manns, / die sich bei keinem Schlag gekrümmt. / Sein Mut ließ ihn da nicht im Stich: / war Stahl!

(15) Wo immer er auch kämpfte; / dort errang er sieggewohnt / viele hohe Ruhmestitel. / War beherzt, reifte langsam— / so stelle ich den Helden vor.

(20) In Frauenaugen war er schön, / er machte Frauenherzen krank, / war vor der Schande auf der Flucht. / Der Held, den ich mir auserwählt, / um den es geht in der Geschichte, / in der Erstaunliches geschieht, / er lebt hier im Roman noch nicht.

At the end of Book Two, Wolfram introduces himself and although he claims to be illiterate, we can not take him seriously on this point:

(114) Ich bin Wolfram, aus Eschenbach,

(13) und ich kann auch Lieder machen!

[...]

(115) Ich bin zum Ritterdienst geboren.

(12) Wenn eine meinen Mut nicht fordert, / mich wegen meiner Liedkunst liebt,

170 Wolfram von Eschenbach: Parzival

Wolfram von Eschenbach: Parzival 171
 
 

so scheint die mir nicht klar im Kopf.
(15) Umwerb ich eine edle Frau / und kann mit Schild und Lanze nicht / den Liebeslohn bei ihr erringen, / so entsprech dem ihre Gunst. / Der setzt auf hohe Würfelzahl,

(20) der Liebe sucht im Waffengang! / Hielten es die Damen nicht / für Schmeichelei, so brächte ich / euch neue Folgen der Geschichte, / und setzte den Roman hier fort.

(25) Doch wer so etwas von mir wünscht, / erwarte hier nur ja kein «Buch»— / denn ich bin nicht schrift gelehrt! / Bücher: Sauerteig für viele, / doch sie lenken nicht bei mir / den Ablauf der Geschichte!

The first two books are devoted to the exploits of Gahmuret, Parzival’s father. He is the younger son of the house of Anjou and seeks his fortune in the East. He finds Belacane, queen of Sasamanc, besieged in her capital Patalemunt by an army seeking revenge for Isenhart, who had died of love for her. Gahmuret defeats the besiegers and marries Belacane according to the rites of her country. He grows restless and leaves her before the birth of her son, Fairefis. He returns to Europe and participates in jousting where Herzeloyde of Wales is the prize. Although he tells her of his previous marriage and of his commitment to the queen of France, Herzeloyde insists on her rights when he is proclaimed the best of the contestants. Their marriage is happy, but Gahmuret returns to the East and is treacherously killed. Parzival is born in sorrow.

(116) Mich betrübt, daß man so viele / schlicht und einfach «Frauen» nennt. / Sie alle haben helle Stimmen, / viele werden sehr schnell untreu, / wenige sind frei von Falschheit—

(10) darin besteht der Unterschied. / Daß man alle gleich benennt, / empfind ich als beschämend. / Wo sich Frauentum erfüllt, / ist stets die Treue mit dabei.

(15) Nun erklären viele: Armut / sei zu überhaupt nichts gut. / Doch wer sie duldet, liebend, treu, / entkommt dem Höllenfeuer. / Dies tat—aus Liebe—eine Frau;

(20) doch was sie hingab, / fand sie neu im Himmel: Lohn, der ewig währt. / Ich fürchte, es gibt kaum noch jemand, / der jung auf irdischen Besitz / verzichtet für die Himmelsglorie—

(25) mir ist kein solcher Fall bekannt! / Mir scheinen Mann und Frau hier gleich: / sie scheuen allesamt zurück. / Die mächtige Herzeloyde besaß / drei Länder, ließ sie nun zurück.

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Wolfram von Eschenbach: Parzival 173
 
 

(30) War leer an Freude: ihre Last!

[...]

(117) Sie floh die Freuden dieser Welt;

(5) Tag und Nacht, sie zählten gleich—/ in ihrem Herzen nichts als Trauer. / Die edle Frau zog leiderfüllt / aus ihrem Land zu einem Wald, / in die Wüstung Solitude;

(10) sie dachte nicht an Blumenwiesen; / ihr Herz war so von Schmerz gequält, / sie hatte keinen Sinn für Kränze, / ganz gleich, ob farbig oder fahl. / Sie nahm mit sich ins Fluchtversteck

(15) das Kind des edlen Gahmuret. / Die Leute, die dort bei ihr sind, / sie müssen roden und beackern. / Sie kümmerte sich liebevoll / um ihren Sohn. Bevor der denken / lernte,

(20) rief sie ihre Leute, / verbot den Männern wie den Frauen / bei Todesstrafe, daß sie je / von Rittern vor ihm sprächen. / "Denn falls mein Liebling davon hörte,

(25) wie das Ritterleben ist, / so würde mir das Herz sehr schwer. / So nehmt hier den Verstand zusammen, / sagt ihm nichts vom Rittertum!" / Man hielt sich streng an ihr Gebot. / Der Junge wurde im Versteck

(118) der Wüstung Solitude erzogen; / um königlichen Lebensstil / betrogen, blieb ihm nur noch dies: / den Bogen und die kleinen Pfeile,

(5) schnitzte er sich selbst zurecht, / schoß viele Vögel auf der Pirsch. / Sobald er einen Vogel traf, / der vorher laut gesungen hatte, / heulte er und raufte sich / das Haar—er rächte sich an ihm!
 
 

Parzival’s sorrow over the dead bird reflects the essential tenderness of his nature which is inhibited later by the knightly instruction he receives. The boy of ten hunts, and one day while roaming he encounters a knight. Because his mother has told him that God is ‘brighter than the day, with the appearance of a man,’ he thinks the knight is God:

(122) Was der auch sprach—der Junge dachte, / er sei Gott. Ihm hatte ja / die edle Herzeloyde

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Wolfram von Eschenbach: Parzival 175
 
 

seine Lichtgestalt beschrieben.
(25) So rief er laut in allem Ernst: / "Gott, du Helfer, hilf auch mir!" / Le fils du roi Gahmuret²—/ kniend betete er an! / Da sprach der Fürst: "Ich bin nicht Gott, / erfüll nur gerne sein Gebot.

(123) Und machst du recht die Augen auf, / so wirst du hier vier Ritter sehn."Der Junge fragte ihn darauf: / "Du sagtest: ‘Ritter.’ Was ist das?

(5) Wenn deine Macht nicht göttlich ist, / so sage mir, wer Ritter macht." / "Das Recht übt König Artus aus. / Kommt Ihr, Junker, an seinen Hof, / verleiht er Euch den Rittertitel,

(10) und Ihr habt Grund, drauf stolz zu sein. / Ihr seid scheint’s ritterlicher Herkunft."
 
 

Even when he is disabused of this idea, he can think of no greater happiness than to be dressed in armor and to ride a horse.

(126) Der edle Junge, unerfahren,

(20) bestand bei ihr auf einem Pferd. / Ihr blutete das Herz. Sie dachte: / "Ich kann es ihm nicht vorenthalten, / doch es soll ein Klepper sein." / Und die Mutter dachte weiter:

(25) "Die Leute spotten allzu gern—/ Narrenkleider soll mein Sohn / auf seinem schönen Körper tragen. / Wenn er geknufft, geschlagen wird, / kommt er vielleicht zu mir zurück." / Welch ein Leid, wie jammervoll!

(127) Die edle Frau nahm nun ein Sacktuch, / schnitt ihm Hemd und Hose zu, / doch beides war in einem Stück, / bedeckte halb die weißen Beine—

(5) die bekannte Narrenkleidung! / Obendran noch die Kapuze. / Vom frischen, noch behaarten Fell / des Kalbes wurden Bauernstiefel / auf seine Fußform zugeschnitten.

(10) Mit Klagen hielt man nicht zurück. / Die Königin, sie dachte nach / und bat ihn, diese Nacht zu bleiben.