The "Marquis de Sade"
Art Neuendorffer
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<<On 6 April 1327, Good Friday, the sight of a woman called "Laura" in
the church of Sainte-Claire d'Avignon awoke in him a lasting passion,
celebrated in the Rime sparse ("Scattered rhymes"). Later, Renaissance
poets who copied Petrarch's style named this collection of 366 poems
Il Canzoniere ("Song Book"). Laura may have been Laura de Noves, the
wife of Count Hugues de Sade (ancestor of Marquis de Sade). While it
is possible she was an idealized or pseudonymous character -
particularly since the name "Laura" has a linguistic connection to the
poetic "laurels" Petrarch coveted - Petrarch himself always denied it.
Her realistic presentation in his poems contrasts with the clichés of
troubadours and courtly love. Her presence causes him unspeakable joy,
but his unrequited love creates unendurable desires. There is little
definite information in Petrarch's work concerning Laura, except that
she is lovely to look at, fair-haired, with a modest, dignified
bearing.>>
>...................................................
> http://tinyurl.com/2vxkae
>...................................................
> http://www.library.otago.ac.nz/exhibitions/poet_laureate/pl_prelaureates.html
>
> The Italian poet Petrarch (1304-74) was so well known for his verse that he
> received two invitations to be crowned poet laureate on the same day, 8 April
> 1341: one from Paris University; the other from the Roman Senate.
> He opted for a celebration at the Senate.
>
> April 8 1341 = Easter Day, hence April 6 1341 = Good Friday
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Nice symmetry:
14 years prior : first sees Laura
7 years after : Laura dies
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http://petrarch.petersadlon.com/laura.html
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<<Laura was the love of Petrarch's life.
For her he perfected the sonnet and wrote the Canzoniere.
.
Who Laura was and even if she really existed is a bit of a mystery.
It has often been believed that the name "Laura" was a play on
the name "laurel" the leaves which Petrarch was honoured
with for being the poet laureate.
.
However, there is a lot of evidence to show that Laura really did
exist and that she was Laure de Noves. Born 6 years after Petrarch in
1310 in Avignon she was the daughter of Audibert de Noves (a Knight)
and wife to Hugues II de Sade (and possibly the ancestor of the
infamous Marquis de Sade). She married at the age of 15 (January 16th,
1325) and Petrarch saw her for the first time two years later on April
6th (Good Friday) in 1327 at Easter mass in the church of Sainte-
Claire d'Avignon.
.
Falling in love at first sight, Petrarch would be haunted by her
beauty for the rest of his life. Already being married she would turn
down all advanced he made toward her.
.
She died at the age of 38 in the year 1348, on April 6th, Good Friday,
exactly 21 years to the very hour that Petrarch first saw her (as
Petrarch noted in his copy of a work by Virgil). There is no record to
the cause of her death, but it was either due to the Black plague or
possibly a pulmonary tuberculosis resulting from eleven childbirths.
.
Several years after her death, Maurice Sceve, a humanist, visiting
Avignon had her tomb opened and discovered inside a lead box. Inside
was a medal representing a woman ripping at her heart, and under that,
a sonnet by Petrarch.
.
The question if Laure de Noves was Petrarch's Laura, or even if there
was a Laura is a question which may never be answered. Although he
wrote the Canzoniere, a series of poems mostly about Laura and his
love for her, she is absent from even being mentioned in his letters
except for a few very rare cases where he talks about a past love he
once had (letter to Posterity) and once where he responds to an
accusation that she is not real (Familiares II, IX)>>
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The "Marquis de Sade" & "a woman ripping at her heart"
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<<Another familiar type of lovesong is the passionate or firey
variety,
usually in tango tempo, in which the singer exhorts his partner
to haunt him and taunt him and, if at all possible, to consum
With a kiss of fire. this particular illustration of this genre
is called the masochism tango. - Tom Lehrer
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I ache for the touch of your lips, dear,
But much more for the touch of your whips, dear.
You can raise welts
Like nobody else,
As we dance to the masochism tango.
Let our love be a flame, not an ember,
Say its me that you want to dismember.
Blacken my eye,
Set fire to my tie,
As we dance to the masochism tango.
At your command
Before you here I stand,
My heart is in my hand. ecch!
Its here that I must be.
My heart entreats,
Just hear those savage beats,
And go put on your cleats
And come and trample me.
Your heart is hard as stone or mahogany,
Thats why Im in such exquisite agony.
My soul is on fire,
Its aflame with desire,
Which is why I perspire
When we tango.
You caught my nose
In your left castanet, love,
I can feel the pain yet, love,
Evry time I hear drums.
And I envy the rose
That you held in your teeth, love,
With the thorns underneath, love,
Sticking into your gums.
Your eyes cast a spell that bewitches.
The last time I needed twenty stitches
To sew up the gash
That you made with your lash,
As we danced to the masochism tango.
Bash in my brain,
And make me scream with pain,
Then kick me once again,
And say well never part.
I know too well
Im underneath your spell,
So, darling, if you smell
Something burning, its my heart.
Excuse me!
Take your cigarette from its holder,
And burn your initials in my shoulder.
Fracture my spine,
And swear that youre mine,
As we dance to the masochism tango.
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Art Neuendorffer