Tirant lo Blanc

Tirant lo Blanc ePUB ✓ Tirant lo  eBook ↠
    Tirant lo Blanc ePUB ✓ Tirant lo eBook ↠ preciosament retòric i tant del gust de la seva època, però avui dia clarament anacrònic i pesat, impossibilitaven, de fet, que el lector no especialitzat i, d'una manera particular, el lector jove, hi entrés amb interès i es divertís amb les aventures dels seus personatges Adreçada precisament a ells, aquesta versió modernitzada, i notòriament abreujada, intenta posarlos a l'abast un text senzill i de fàcil lectura, i alhora fidel, en la mesura que això és possible, al text de Joanot Martorell."/>
  • Paperback
  • 271 pages
  • Tirant lo Blanc
  • Joanot Martorell
  • Catalan; Valencian
  • 11 February 2018

About the Author: Joanot Martorell

Joanot Martorell – was a Valencian knight and the author of the novel Tirant lo Blanch, written in the Valencian vernacular Martorell calls it vulgar llengua valenciana and published at Valencia in It deals with the adventures of a knight in the Byzantine Empire Miguel de Cervantes in the book burning scene of Don Quixote considers Tirant lo eBook ↠ it the best chivalry novel Martorell was a ch.

Tirant lo Blanc⚡ [PDF] ✍ Tirant lo Blanc By Joanot Martorell ✵ – Johndore.co.uk Escrita a partir de i publicada per primera vegada el , Tirant lo Blanc de Joanot Martorell és una novel·la cavalleresca que narra les aventures d'armes i d'amor del seu protagonista, Tirant, al se Escrita a partir dei publicada per primera vegada el , Tirant lo Blanc de Joanot Martorell és una novel·la cavalleresca que narra les aventures d'armes i d'amor del seu protagonista, Tirant, al servei d'un bell ideal: alliberar l'Imperi Grec, Constantinoble, del setge dels turcs Qualificada encertadament per Vargas Llosa de novel·la total alhora de cavalleria, cortesana, militar, eròtica Tirant lo eBook ↠ i, en cert sentit, psicològica, la seva versemblança l'allunya de les novel·les de cavalleria de l'Edat Mitjana; i la seva trama, variada i rica en registres des del to greu fins a l'humor; des de la crueltat fins al sensualisme, la fan una lectura plaent i divertida, que ha resistit el pas del temps És, no res menys, una de les millors novel·les europees del moment i de tots els temps Malgrat el seu encant indiscutible, Tirant lo Blanc és una novel·la que fins ara no estava a l'abast de la majoria de lectors potencials d'avui La llengua —el català del s XV— i l'extensió —més de vuitcentes pàgines atapeïdes—, juntament amb una bona part del seu estil, preciosament retòric i tant del gust de la seva època, però avui dia clarament anacrònic i pesat, impossibilitaven, de fet, que el lector no especialitzat i, d'una manera particular, el lector jove, hi entrés amb interès i es divertís amb les aventures dels seus personatges Adreçada precisament a ells, aquesta versió modernitzada, i notòriament abreujada, intenta posarlos a l'abast un text senzill i de fàcil lectura, i alhora fidel, en la mesura que això és possible, al text de Joanot Martorell.

You may also like...

10 thoughts on “Tirant lo Blanc

  1. Nathan "N.R." Gaddis says:

    Should you have ever heard of a book called Tirant lo Blanc, likely you have from reading Cervantes modern masterpiece, Don Quixote. Clearing up the Don’s library, sending those diseased and disease causing books to the flames, his priest suddenly exclaims,

    God help me! Here’s Tirant lo Blanc! Give it here, friend, for I promise you I’ve found a wealth of pleasure and a gold mine of enjoyment in it.... I swear to you, my friend, that it’s the best book of its kind in the world. The knights in it eat, sleep, die in their beds, dictate wills before they go and many other things you cannot find in other works of this sort. For all that and because he avoided deliberate nonsense, the author deserved to have it kept in print all his life. Take it home and read it, and you’ll see everything I’ve said is true. (Part I, chapter 6, trans by Rosenthal)
    Let us indeed “take it home and read it.” *

    Tirant lo Blanc was finally published in 1490, but in rather rough shape. Martorell had died a few years back, having left his manuscript unfinished and unrevised. Eventually someone by the name of Martí Joan de Galba picked it up and finished it, presumably on the basis of Martorell’s notes. De Galba likely revised a few passages here and there, but the novel did not receive a full revision, leaving the field wide open for readers and scholars to pick up little inconsistencies here and there, wondering how it may have looked had Martorell the chance to tidy it all up, asking which of the two was responsible for which phrases and passages. In other words, it belongs with those other never-completed masterpieces such as Gargantua and Pantagruel, Chaucer’s tales, The Heptameron, and The Pale King. Unlike those several books, Tirant was written in a BURIED Spanish dialect and thus for centuries dead to the non-hispanic world until an English translation appeared (submitted as a dissertation) in 1974 by Ray La Fontaine (finally published in 1994), followed in 1984 by Rosenthal’s translation, slightly abridged but easily accessible. Certainly Tirant should count as one of the world’s great literary works of the fifteenth century. Don’t miss it; and thank the literary deities that today we can read it.

    “He avoided deliberate nonsense,” says Don Quixote’s priest. This brings Tirant into the realm of early modern realist noveling, the encyclopedia of the detail. Gone are the magical, mystical elements of the older chivalric romance. Gone is the utterly weird christian mysticism which had me nearly shredding The Quest of the Holy Grail. An improvement there. But the lose of the fantastical, perhaps, is what makes Tirant a little less invigorating in comparison to Ariosto’s great chivalric poem, Orlando Furioso; no trips to the moon, no episodes of madness, no ghost of Merlin. The rise of realism in our novels is an ambiguous gain at best. Magic Realism is older than the hills and has resurrected the novel in the twentieth century. Let’s bring back “deliberate nonsense.”

    I am tempted to set Don Quixote upon the lists to have it out with Tirant about the future and possibility of the chivalric code. That project might be a bit unfair since we all know the outcome, causing Ford Maddox Ford’s to vent great spleen against Cervantes; FMF who thought chivalry would save the world. Not so much killing off the chivalric code, Cervantes found a corpse at his feet, a dead chivalry, and brought it back to life with a sharp, dead-horse revivifying kick. But Cervantes’ chivalry couldn’t get it up anymore; it had only windmills at which to tilt. The final dying breath of chivalry is perhaps found in the book of Tirant, the last great champion of knighthood. Before chivalry would expire for good, we required a last grand portrait of chivalry, of what it might be had it the force to sustain itself; chivalry in its best and highest characterization. And this perfection of knighthood in the form of Tirant will test the patience of any reader who might insist upon the inevitability of human frailty; no one can be that virtuous. Tirant, have no qualms, is what chivalry would have been had it become itself, should have been; the perfection of every knightly virtue. And that was a good thing; a good thing we have lost.

    It would seem to be incumbent upon any reader of great works of chivalry and medieval literature to mount some defense, even if that defense is against a strawman. I’d like to submit to that temptation just a little and tilt against a straw opponent. Why read a novel in which is depicted what we know so well as sexism, racism, bigotry, insane religious zealotry, misogyny, etc etc etc? Two possible reasons one might suspect :: a) to remind ourselves how much better we are than they were; I mean morally better OR b) to remind ourselves that we are not better than they. I mean that (a) is chauvinistic and (b) is properly perspectival. We might read something like Tirant and wipe our brow in relief that we don’t have to suffer under such an unbearable structure of power which oppresses, represses, suppresses all and sundry who are x, y, z. OR, we might read something like Tirant and wipe our brow in relief that the power structures under which we live today have not always existed; that there was a time when things were arranged differently, a time when people held a, b, c as valuable, a time when we didn’t have to pose in an ironical distance to everything which might matter to us. There was a time which was different, which means there will come a time when they are different again, and that which we are told is only “natural” about the world we live in, that what oppresses, represses, suppresses us, is in fact not natural, is entirely contingent and will one day cease, will die just as did feudalism which knighthood nurtured and defended. Those readers who nurture a constant and unrelieved Nietzschean suspicion against anything which does not immediately show us how superior we are to them, might be suffering under the same book sickness that Don Quixote suffered -- the belief in books as the real deal, the lack of understanding of what fiction is, the inability to differentiate reality from fiction and to see how the two interpenetrate one another. Rather than diagnose Tirant--psychoanalytically, politically orthodoxed, or what-have-you -- rather than diagnose, we might see in Tirant the possibility that our lives might be lived differently than they are now and that we are not the be all end all of human society. We read books which are not us in order to see ourselves as other than ourselves; we are the kind of thing which is never itself.

    But I promise that the reading of Tirant lo Blanc will cause you no temptation to revive a dead and gone code of behavior, nor to campaign for the restoration of a dead and gone form of social organization. I doubt very much, either, that it will save you from book-sickness; it may be too late for that, thankfully. What you’ll get is a great story of love and war, a grand bit of escapism from our own dull world to a world of bloody battles and equally embattled love.

    tolle, lege

    * Fiction within fiction, so we should not be surprised. Listen, the priest also says, “Here's that brave cavalier Sir Kyrieleison of Muntalbà, his brother Thomas of Muntalbà, the knight Dryfount... et cetera. BUT, on page 216 of Tirant we read, First came the emperor's banner, borne by a warrior named Dryfount on a splendid white charger... and turning to the notes in the back which gloss Dryfount we read further, This is the knight Fonseca (Fontseca in Catalan), whom Cervantes mentions in his praise of Tirant, but who appears only once in the novel, leading one to suppose that Cervantes opened it at random in search of another name and happened upon this one. So perhaps Tirant had an “influence” on Cervantes’ fictional priest; perhaps not so much “influence” on Cervantes.

  2. Erin says:

    I hesitate in speaking so harshly, but Tirant lo Blanc may have been one of the worst books I've ever had the displeasure of reading. Perhaps this strong dislike is more of a personal preference than an objective analysis, but that simply does not change the fact that I struggled to finish it and upon reaching the last page, felt only an overpowering sense of relief. The writing style was tedious and dare I say boring, and the entire book unbelievably repetitive. If you don't believe me when I say you can find the word honour printed on every page, call me a heretic and chop off my head!, or something along those lines.

  3. Miquel Reina says:

    Tirant lo Blanc is one of this books I read in my school days and its probably one of the best Catalan literature works of all times. Tirant lo Blanc is an extremely entertaining book of cavalry taking into account that it was written in 1490 and in my opinion one of the books in the Catalan language that everyone who wants to learn from its extensive literary works should read.

    Spanish version:
    Tirant lo blanc es una de las obras que leí en mi época escolar y cómo catalán que soy es una de las obras antiguas catalanas que más me gustan. Tirant lo blanc es un libro de caballería extremadamente ameno teniendo en cuanta que se escribió en 1490 y uno de los referentes en lengua catalana que todo el mundo que quiera aprender de su extensa obra literaria debería leer.

  4. Kaitlyn Utkewicz says:

    What in the actual hell did I just read? Don't get me wrong, I loved it, was wildly entertained by it. But what was that? Please, don't read ahead if you haven't read the book. I go into a lot of detail here so consider yourself warned.

    This book was so... dirty. I can't think of any other word for it. And it was published in like the 1400s! Think about how horrifying this is. Carmesina was 14 years old when the main events of the plot were happening. Tirant was in his early 20s. As creepy as this is already, makes it worse that Carmesina had maids that were shamelessly trying to get a naked Tirant into her bed. I thought pre-marital sex was supposed to be a big deal in this time period, guess I was dead wrong. Perhaps the most disturbing part of the whole love affair was the scene where Carmesina (god forbid) told Tirant that she wanted to wait before losing her virginity to him. And Tirant thinks to himself - wow she must really not love me. Their first time was essentially a rape too. I understand these were the times, but it is shocking to read about. With this said though, I still found myself enjoying the story. I'm a little disturbed that I enjoyed it, but I enjoyed it just the same. The action moved pretty fast for me (contrary to what others are saying on here) and I was always interested in what happened next. The war scenes were a bit boring but I thought this story was a FASCINATING glimpse into the war between the Christians and the Muslims. A little taste of history mixed with a bit of eroticism is definitely my cup of tea. And for some reason I kept chuckling to myself picturing Don Quixote studying this book like the Bible.

    I would have given the book five stars if the ending wasn't so wildly disappointing. Why did they have to kill him?! That made no sense. He was finally happy and could have settled down as Emperor of Greece with Carmesina as Empress. All would have lived happily ever after. But instead the author made it a Greek tragedy and had everyone die at the end. Poor educated choices in my opinion.

  5. Daniel Salvador Noguera says:

    Long before there was 'Game of Thrones' there was 'Tirant lo Blanc', uncomparably better written and allowing the reader to understand certain conceptions of love and the world in medieval times.

  6. Marie says:

    The book jacket makes much of Cervantes mentioning the book as one of the best - but it's not Cervantes saying that, it's the priest character who is evaluating which of Don Quixote's books to burn and which to save. And I think I know why Cervantes had the priest save this one, because aside from a quick episode involving a female dragon, the book is mostly without magic and deals with wars and tournaments, not wandering knight errantry.

    Written in the late 15th Century in Catalan, Tirant Lo Blanc chronicles the journey of your typical super-knight. He wins every fight he is in, and is an expert on virtue and courtliness. He also has a superpower seen in many knightly tales but rarely so extravagantly in contradiction to the laws of physics: he refuses all rewards ever offered to him and gives every messenger, stranger, friend, beggar, attendant, and squire buckets of wealth.

    K. I'll forgive that.

    Even by medieval novel read in translation standards, Tirant Lo Blanc drags. Every decision is predicated by four or five chapters of not very interesting speeches, some of which I think the author would have blessed the invention of copy-paste for because it must have been at least as tedious to write them as to read them.

    Still, when I could chew my way slowly through that, and the often-contradictory, meandering plot, there were bits to amuse. Like the fascinatingly alien morality. Our most pious hero rapes his love, for one thing - and holds down another lady so his friend can rape her - only letting her up when his friend relents, knowing that he's going to MARRY THE WOMAN TOMORROW. In both instances the attacked women never complain and instantly forgive their attackers, even though the one lady was tricked into marrying the guy by Tirant carefully interceding every time her suitor made a social faux pas.

    It's certainly the pre-16th-century novel that treats pre-marital sex the lightest. It's attitude towards women is, frankly, weird. There is a long section listing the virtuous warrior women of the past, and female characters like Pleasure-of-my-life and the Empress have real agency and tell the men what to do - though Pleasure-of-my-Life mostly extols the virtues of raping the princess immediately because chastity - eh, what's the point of that? Still, ladies are shown preparing towns for siege and outfitting armies. Tirant's princess Carmesina even dons armor and goes into battle, capturing a small boy so she can say she captured a saracen, too.

    Oh, and here's another real weird thing in this book - after conquering all of Barbary and Greece and securing his betrothal to the beautiful princess he deflowered, he just up and dies. From a pain in his side that hits him while walking along a stream. BAM. On his deathbed he confesses - nothing, actually. They say he confesses, and have a few long paragraphs of him talking about how great Jesus is, and bam. His princess then hears about his death, dresses in her wedding gown, confesses publicly that she allowed Tirant to deflower her, and dies. Of love.

    Then the book goes ON for several more chapters until all the remaining characters have been provided with their own end. Exhausting. The whole work is exhausting in detail.

  7. Olga Miret says:

    I read Tirant many years back, in Catalan. I think it was the 500 anniversary edition probably. If you're looking for something written in a simple and modern style, it is not. I haven't read any of the English adaptations so can't comment on their quality. The story has everything you would expect from cavalry novels, battles, adventures, politics, flirting, and yes, eroticism. Of course religion is also part of the book. Many of the battles would have to do with crusades, trying to recover religious sites...
    I don't know if many people would agree with Cervantes that it is the best book in the world (well, not Cervantes, one of his characters), but at the time it might have been one of the best and with its insights into a knigth's life (as Joanot Martorell was a knight and some of the experiences of the book seem adapted from the author's personal ones), inspiration from real historical figures (Roger de Flor), variety and adventures, it is well worth a high ranking amongst the genre.

    Vaig llegir el Tirant fa molts anys en Catalá. Estilisticament no és pot esperar que sigui una novel.la moderna, encara que en molts aspectes ho és. No és una lectura corteta i sencilla, peró es un llibre que amb perseveráncia i paciéncia te molt per aportar. Potser adaptacions modernes el facin més accessibles, perque les aventures, históries i detalls sobre la vida d'un cavaller de l'época fan la lectura molt recomenable. I una mica desvergonyida també ho és (no potser si ho comparem amb les coses que es llegeixen avui en dia peró a mi em va sorprendre per l'época).

  8. Deanne says:

    The first chapter about the knight who goes on a crusade and then becomes a hermit when he returns is something I've heard of before. It was something I read in a book on local history, bugging me because I'll have to try and track it down.

  9. Brad says:

    This Catalan narrative was a primary model and inspiration for Cervantes' Don Quixote and for the picaresque novel more broadly. The globe-trotting Tirant engages the high and low of the medieval social world, fights with and negotiates with Muslim rulers, all while trying to get into the pants of a princess with a frank sexuality that may surprise modern readers. This narrative is also of interest in terms of constructions of identity, at the time forged on religious cleavages, brought to a fever pitch during the crusades. The book is long (600+ pages) and it might not be the best choice for readers unused to medieval narrative. Apparently Martorell died before finishing it and it was completed by someone else. The writing of this later section is more conventional.

  10. Scott says:

    My 3-star rating is based really on my subjective enjoyment of this early novel steeped in European chivalry. A literary historian would likely give it 4 or 5 stars. For my part, I thought it engaging enough to read the 600-plus pages of it, but it certainly has its duller passages and elements.

    I must say that the translation seems very good. While I certainly don't know Middle Valencian or Portuguese, I found this English translation very smooth and easy to read. This isn't always the case with translations of centuries-old works. Also, the introduction and notes are mostly helpful, although why on earth the notation are often untranslated is beyond me. The notes will often directly quote Latin, Greek, Catalan, or other languages, without an English translation. And that simply doesn't do me any good. Not the worst thing in the world, but it was annoying.

    As for the story itself, it can be rather rousing to follow the exploits of the title character. There's much dueling and battling, both small- and large-scale. The tone and description can shift in odd ways, sometimes being overly detailed in the smallest ways, while being overly brisk when describing massive, region-shifting battles. And simply getting some look at how a chivalrous knight was supposed to behave has its own intellectual appeal. It must be admitted that Tirant is quite obviously a romantic ideal of a noble knight, not unlike the mythic Arthur of England. But this novel does get a bit grittier with the details and sexual exploits of its hero at times.

    This brings up something I found rather jarring. In one of the earlier sections of the book, Tirant expends a ton of energy trying to get a friend and prince to deceive and sleep with a young princess - hardly something that seems chivalrous, but is never really explained in any satisfactory way. There are a few such elements in the book which are simply impossible to square with modern sensibilities, such as the fact that Tirant basically rapes his 14-year old lady love, Caremsina, whose own ladies in waiting urge Tirant to do it. Their argument is basically No means yes, which is also something that I have a hard time chalking up to it simply being a different time. Maybe it was, and this book was just accurately reflecting the attitudes of the day, but that doesn't make it any easier to read.

    The prose is pretty solid throughout, but it can get rather long-winded at times. The characters also have the habit of speaking in a now-laughably elevated high speech, often praising their lord Jesus, or simply bathing everyone around them in flowery language of courtesy. Frankly, it can get rather dull.

    For those who are really interested in the history of chivalric stories, this one is worth picking up. If nothing else, it allows you to see just how far such stories have come. One need look no further than the massively successful Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones) book and TV series to see the most current take on such settings and characters, and to see just how much such storytelling has evolved.