Chambord: François I’s Hunting Lodge and Home

In 1513, a wild boar entered the chateau in Ambois and raced through its halls. Lords and ladies were terrified as the beast charged towards them. The only person in the Royal Court who could stop the four-legged marauder was the Dauphin, François. The future king slew the animal with his sword, exhibiting his hunting prowess and gallantry.

When he became King of France in 1515, François I remained an avid hunter. Following his campaigns in Italy, he ordered the construction of a new chateau in Chambord to serve as a royal hunting lodge. Not only did François I seek to defeat Charles V on the battlefield but he wanted to surpass the Holy Roman Emperor in terms of fashion and sophistication. Chambord was his attempt to become the “greatest builder of his time” (McConnachie 154). Construction began in 1519 and was eventually completed in 1547.

Like the limestone blocks used to build the castle walls, some of the Chambord’s distinctive features have worn away but its origin is still clear. Build to be a hunting lodge that befits a king, it was also a home and safe haven for François I. From afar or up close, inside or outside, symbols of the hunt appear. Material and symbolic clues are found in the castle’s architecture, emblems throughout the property, and pieces of art.

The size and surroundings of François I’s permanent residence in Blois precluded him from hunting as much as he would have liked. The chateau in Blois was too small to lodge the large number of people involved in the hunt and the hilly environment was not fruitful for game. Twenty kilometres to the East on the Rivière Cosson, the enormous Chambord estate was designed to be the complete opposite (Hélène).

Measuring 156 metres in length and 56 in height, Chambord holds 426 rooms. A 5,440 hectare park was enclosed by a thirty-two kilometre wall. In the past, two thousand people would stay there (in the chateau or camping on the grounds). To the thousands of tourists who visit today, it is immediately apparent that this is not a typical property.

François I took an integral role in the design of the property. He selected a site near the old Park of Chambord, which had become a ruin but was a favourite hunting spot when he was younger (Buzon 4). The location also boasted a large number of stags in the vicinity (Saussaye 53). Besides deer, the marshy surroundings suited wild game that the king enjoyed to hunt, like wild boars, wolves, and 120 types of birds. The king required a hunting party of four hundred people, who could only be accommodated on the vast grounds of Chambord (Hélène).

The architecture belies another subtle signal that this was meant to be a hunting lodge: the facility is not suitable for year-round occupation. The immense rooms - some almost four metres in height - are extremely difficult to heat. François I and the Royal Court travelled from castle to castle with all of his furniture and belongings. Since there are no villages near Chambord, any food would have to be brought in the royal caravan or hunted, making long stays impractical.

When designing Chambord, François I wanted the chateau to be comfortable for everyone. At the time he said that “a royal court without ladies is like a year without spring and spring without roses” (Fabri 36). As he result, ornate rooftop terraces and belvederes were included in the facility. Nevertheless, there are no pleasure gardens or outdoor features such as the fountains and pergolas found at Villandry. The chateau is huge but the rooms within are small and it lacks the rooms and facilities for a royal ball or banquet. Chambord is more of a lodge than a palace, displaying a cottage aesthetic, exemplified by the exposed half-timbering seen in the walls of the upper stories.

There are hundreds of symbols of all sizes throughout Chambord, representing François I or hunting. Over seven hundred salamanders inhabit the in the castle. The arched ceiling outside the king’s quarters is a checkerboard of “F” and salamanders. The cross-shaped floorplan of the centre tower was part of the king’s personal influence on the project. Vaulted halls intersecting in a cross design were popular during Antiquity but had not been used in modern times until Donato Bramante included the idea his blueprints for Saint Peter’s Cathedral in Rome (Fabri 32). The social and structural focal point of Chambord harkened back to classical buildings like the Pantheon and remained current with Renaissance trends.

The wooden doors are carved with a salamander on top and flames below. The flourishes in Chambord’s capitals and entablatures call to mind elements of flamboyant Italian architecture at the time. During the erection of the chateau, François I had been captured at the Battle of Pavia and held prisoner by Charles V. Observers believe that the elaborate rooftop city built on top of the castle was inspired by the Charterhouse of Pavia (McConnachie 155).

The emblems of the chateau were a stag and a boar; today the tourism office logo is a salamander and a stag. The stag and the boar were chosen because of their abundance outside the castle walls where they number seven hundred and twelve hundred respectively in the flesh. Consequently, the animals were frequently hunted and their prominence in Chambord’s architecture is an emblem for François I’s love of the sport. At the time that Chambord was built, the stag and the boar had been portrayed in art for centuries and possessed their own symbolic meanings.

The winged stag was formerly the emblem of the French royal family until Louis XII adopted the porcupine. It is also a Christian allegory because of the way a herd of deer help each other in the wild and the manner in which it renews its horns each spring. Other symbolic characteristics of the animal are pride and purification.

According to mythology, stags would hunt snakes, drawing the creature out of its hole and trampling it. If the stag were bitten by the serpent or ate their prey alive, they could purify themselves by drinking water. Venison was sought in the 1500s because it was believed that the meat had medicinal properties (Badke “Stag”). Antlers of the deer that were killed in the hunt were often exhibited on the walls of the castle. Today, dozens of trophies are displayed in the Musée de la Chasse.

The wild boar was often hunted by nobility in the sixteenth century as a way to demonstrate courage and athletic skill (Colson 1266). The ferocity of the animal symbolizes courageous and strong warriors (Decker “Animal Symbolism”), in addition to recalling François I’s exploit in Amboise. When a boar was cornered by a hunting party, it was customary for the lord to dismount his horse and kill the animal with his dagger.

These symbols are incorporated in the detailed decorations of Chambord, along with many other animals. The downspouts - now a common item but richly embellished in Renaissance castles like Blois (Figure A) - shaped like stags (Figure B). The cornice is engraved with nature scenes and a variety of wild beasts (Figure C).

Meticulous tapestries hung throughout the chateau serve two purposes. The fabric insulates the stone walls and conserves heat generated from the many fireplaces. In order to embody style and status, some of the apartments are covered in fine silk embroidering and others with ornate tapestries crafted by a skilled artisan. At Chambord, tapestries usually feature scenes of hunting or nature.

One of the tapestry sets in Chambord was called “The Story of the Hunting Expeditions of King François I.” One scene shows the king hunting with the Royal Court. Despite foraying into the woods, François is lavishly attired in god britches. He is looking at the viewer confidently, pointing a staff to direct his party. On the left side, some men prepare horses to be mounted. On the right, a group of hounds are on the scent of prey and in the background a gloved falconer is readying his charges. The faces in the border could represent a hunting god or goddess, like Diana (Figure D).

Another work on the ground floor shows the king on horseback, leading his party. François I is riding forward fearlessly, followed by his group with hounds and birds. On the opposite wall, a lord and lady examine the birds that they have trapped in the woods near Chambord. In a different scene, courteliers are watching hounds chase a flock of fowl into a stream (Figure E). These scenes are a stark contrast to other royal accommodations where the artwork showcases portraits of the king and his predecessors, like the Louis XIV apartments at Chambord (Figure F).

“The Wolf Hunt” hangs in the Flemish Room, showing a large hunting party pursuing a wolf with hounds. They have trapped their quarry and the leader is about to dismount his horse and deliver a killing blow with his spear. Others are armed with different weapons symbolic of the hunt. It is an allegory for humans working together and overcoming the temptation of sin (Badke “The Wolf”), like farmers collaborating to save their flocks from a wolf. Nature’s bounty is plentiful; trees bear scores of oranges and the tapestry is bordered by oranges, grapes, and flowers (Figure G).

The king was only able to spend seventy-two days at Chambord during his thirty-two year reign and did not see its completion. At the time of his death, only the royal apartments had been finished (Buzon 8). Though he was not involved, events that preceded and followed his reign have interlocked seamlessly with his symbols and added to the heritage of Chambord.

Chambord was built on the site of an old-hunting lodge that had been used by the Dukes of Orleans for centuries. Local legend says that the forest is haunted by “Black Hunter” during autumn nights. The ghostly Thibault of Champagne, clad only in black - along with black dogs and black-haired companions - chases his prey between Bury and Monsfrault all night. It was said that Thibault’s howls could be heard by farmers and residents of Chambord (Saussaye 43).

Two seventeenth-century tapestries hang in the Musée but they would have fit perfectly in François I’s décor. As classical myths became more popular during the Renaissance, he would have appreciated the “The Story of Meleager and the Wild Boar Hunt” (Figure G) and a depiction of Diana, the Roman goddess of the hunt.

As told by Ovid, Meleager, met his demise while hunting a legendary boar with his uncles and a woman named Atalanta. When the hunt concluded, Meleager awarded the head and tusks to Atalanta because her spear had drawn first blood. His uncles objected and Meleager killed them. Afterwards, his mother throws the log that signifies Meleager’s lifespan into the fire, killing her son (Ovid VIII 250-456).

The myth is an image of hunting but it also an allegory for the four seasons. The Calydonian boar, arriving in the spring and fall, destroyed farmers’ crops. When the weather was cold, farmers were at risk that a late frost might kill newly planted crops in the spring and early snow or hail that would do likewise before the harvest in the fall. The heat of the summer sun allows crops to thrive, like those shown on the border of the tapestry. Meleager’s death mirrors the limited length of the summer and the interaction between light and dark, summer and winter, and day and night (Hooker).

Some of these elements can be seen in the symmetrical layout of Chambord. There are four turrets on the centre tower, which is divided into four quarters. Outside, slate diamonds indicate symbols, such as the four seasons and the four elements. When balanced with circles and ellipses Figure H, the shapes show the balance of the king’s temporal power on Earth and the heavenly power of God (Hélène). The spiral staircase and other features make the chateau a blend of Medieval and Renaissance architecture (Buzon 11).

François I ultimately succeeded in matching his Italian rival. When Charles V first visited in 1535, he remarked that Chambord was a testament to what could be accomplished by the human spirit (Saussaye 19). Now, it is a national symbol of France, internationally known for its architecture.

Finally, the strongest symbols of how Chambord was the king’s hunting lodge are stories retelling how François I referred to the chateau. When announcing a trip to the estate, the sovereign would tell his court “let’s go home.” There are many associations with the word home - such as safety, comfort, family, enjoyment - which François wanted to recall by using those words. To him, it was a place where he could truly relax and indulge his favourite hobby.

Bibliography:

Badke, David. The Medieval Bestiary. David Badke. 27 July 2008 .
Buzon, Christine de. Le Château de Chambord. Florence: Bonechi, 2008.
Colson, Gregory M. “Sport, War, and Contest in Shakespeare’s Henry VI.” Renaissance Quarterly. 54.4 (Winter 2001): p. 1251-1272.
Decker, Judy and Vivian Komando. Animal Symbolism. Princeton Online. 27 July 2008 .
Fabri, Patrizia, Simonetta Giorgi, et al. Châteaux de Loire. Paris: Bonechi, 1995.
Hooker, John and Carin Perron. “The Role of the Boar.” Coriosolite Expert System. 27 July 2008 .
Hélène. Guided Tour. “Chambord.” Le Château de Chambord, Chambord, 23 July 2008.
Kline, Anthony K., Ed. Poetry in Translation. 14 July 2008. .
McConnachie, James and Hugh Clearly. The Rough Guide to the Loire. New York: Penguin Group, 2007.
Saussaye, L. de la. Le Chateau de Chambord 8ième ed. Lyon: Imprimerie de Louis Perrin, 1859.

Seconds

Circulation Restreinte

Carlos Sastre won the 2008 Tour de France. Cadel Evans was second, for the second consecutive year. Evans had a chance to claim the yellow jersey during Saturday’s time trial but he did not capitalize on his superior potential against the clock. Either he hurt himself more than he let on when he fell in the Pyranées or he can improve upon his mental training.

Last year, the Australian had a chance to pass eventual winner Alberto Contador in a similar situation - one stage left, short time to make up - and could not. This year, Evans said that he felt good before the race and felt he cycled well but admitted that he was surprised when he learnt his standing after the first interval.

First of all, Evans should have responded earlier when he lose the yellow jersey to Frank Schleck in the Alps and attacked on L’Alpe d’Huez. Sastre took initiative and consequently gained the lead. Secondly, Evans should focus more on the mental part of the Tour de France. In 2004, Lance Armstrong devoted a significant part of his off-season training to the time-trial on L’Alpe d’Huez and smashed the rest of the peloton. Evans could visualize the course more or find more effective ways to relax before the stage.

The Tour de France is the physically hardest sporting event to win on the planet. Every cyclist dreams of receiving the yellow jersey on the Champs Elysées but only a few can. The Tour is also one of mentally hardest sporting events to win. Strategy (short-term, long-term, teamwork) is paramount and determination is imperative. The temptation for someone in Evans’ situation becomes to make the time trial into a big obstacle; the cyclist might treat the stage like it is a baromotre of whether his career is a success or fails. It is - and should remain - a regular bike ride where he must but the hammer down as hard as he can.

On the other hand, completing the Tour is an accomplishment, especially when falling in an earlier stage, which Evans did. Making the front page of L’Équipe is satisfying but for the 150 cyclist who can’t to that, they must satisfy themselves by overcoming obstacles and setting personal bests. They can’t mentally beat themselves up because they must come back next year: physically, mentally, technically, and strategically better than ever.

Deux films

Deux cinémas

Two films that I watched over the weekend had similar themes. La Nouvelle vie de Monsieur Horten, Norwegian with French subtitles (a past Cannes selection and a future TIFF selection), and Nos 18 ans were good films, developed smoothly (and promptly), and talked about how to set priorities and enjoy life.

La Nouvelle vie de M. Horten, was an intelligent version of The Bucket List. It is a quiet film with moments of absurd humour. Odd Horten is a train conducteur who is forced to retire and doesn’t know what to do with himself. Single and living near the train tracks, Horten had lived a life focused on his job. He has several regrets, such as his fear of ski jumping and a sporadic relationship with an innkeeper on his train route.

Still wearing his railway uniform as he begins his retirement, Horten encounters characters in various stages of their lives. One of the characters, later revealed to be a schizophrenic, tells him that “it’s never too late in life” to do anything.

The film benefited from several subtle performances and an airy soundtrack that suited the film perfectly. On the other hand, the director Bent Hamer used such obvious symbolism it was as if he was breaking rocks with a sledge hammer. It’s very good but moments like when Horten observes the neighbourhood bakery making a wedding cake were like a Dummies Guide to the film.

Nos 18 ans tells the tale of a group of friends who have graduated from high school and must write their Baccalaureate examination. One character Lucas, took the trouble to tell-off his least favourite teacher (Prof. Martineau) before he left school, only to find out that that the teacher would be his examiner for the “bac” and happened to be the father of the girl that he was in love with.

Throughout the film, the friends balance celebrating their graduation with studying for the “bac” and realize how the test is not the alpha and the omega in life. As he tutors Lucas, Prof. Martineau realizes that he has missed some opportunities in life and decides to change his philosophy somewhat. Lucas and his peers all head of in different directions and must realize that they are now adults and fully responsible for their actions.

The film was humourous but also dealt with serious issues. It focused on how young people chose their path in life and how they live with it afterwards. Some of the performances were less than average; it seemed that aside from Prof. Martineau and his ex-wife, there were only two types of characters in the film, depending on the sex of the performer. The ending seemed thrown together as a more detailed conclusion would have wrapped up the film better.

Place de Grand Marché Both films emphasize that work and school aren’t always paramount; it’s paramount to remember Orbital’s philosophy regarding regret. Ski jumping, that extra mille-feuille, the extra folly. Putting friends first and developing a support group. Carpe Diem (encore).

Pierre de Ronsard's "The Nightingale"

My Second Essay for FCS369Y: Irony and Pierre de Ronsard’s “Nightingale”

All night the nightingale hears Ronsard’s pleas.
Singing, sighing, the bird learns of love scorned.
It knows life without love is a heart torn,
But it may not see the poem’s irony.

Pierre de Ronsard constructs the poem by comparing himself to a nightingale, fluttering from tree to tree and warbling its song during the night, hoping to find true love. The foundation of the metaphor is the role the nightingale as a symbol for tragic love in literature. In his cathedral for Marie d’Anjou, Ronsard used some conventional architecture, such as pillars influenced by the metaphor’s history and his influences Petrarch and Plato. Overall, the final design of the work features his unique flourishes.

The nightingale is a vehicle for Ronsard to express his feelings for Marie. The bird fulfills its traditional poetic role as a metaphor for which tragic love is the tenor. Nevertheless, originality can be seen in the ground of the metaphor. Ronsard’s lamentation to the bird adds depth to the comparison. The disparate outcomes realized by man and animal as both search for true love provide the poem’s irony.

Flying through literary history, the nightingale has appeared as a symbol in various periods as if it were alighting on a tree. The emblem first hatched in antiquity, when both the Greeks and Romans associated the bird with tragic love. Medieval poets included its melody in their sonnets. From Ronsard’s perspective, his appreciation of the nightingale likely grew when he read Francesco Petrarch’s poem of the same name.

The history of the metaphor dates to back to the Greek myth of Aëdon of Crete, who accidentally killed her only son. Zeus transformed her into a nightingale so she could mourn the death (Young 181). In Homer’s Odyssey, Penelope likens the grief over her missing husband to Aëdon’s feelings (xix. 518-23).

Ancient Rome had its own metaphor, written by Ovid in 8 A.D.. In the sixth book of Metamorphorses, Theseus develops an infatuation with his sister-in-law Philomela, forcing himself upon her before cutting of her tongue and concealing her in a dungeon for a year. Philomena could only communicate with her sister Procne by surreptitiously sending her a tapestry explaining her imprisonment. Procne’s loyal love for her sister proves greater than her erotic attraction to Theseus so she helps Philomena escape. Afterwards, the sisters kill Itys, Theseus’ only son, and serve him to his father in a feast.

After their brutal act of revenge, the sisters were transformed into birds by the Gods: Procne into a swallow and Philomena a nightingale who flees to the woods (Ovid VI. 412-674). The tale serves as an allegory for the frailty of love as Theseus destroyed his marriage due to lust for his wife’s sister. In Ovid’s mind, Philomena signified erotic love and the acts humans would commit to realize their desires (Shippey 49).

Subsequently, Virgil would use the association in Georgics to describe Orpheus’ emotions regarding his lost son Eurydice. Other similar classical myths exist but Aëdon and Philomena are the most prominent; their names mean “nightingale” in their respective languages (Young 181).

Medieval poets employed the bird frequently. Some references can be found as early the seventh century but the nightingale’s metaphorical character began to grow in stature during the twelfth century. Poets in England and Europe were very consistent about the themes used as a tenor, connecting the nightingale with love. Many poets feel that the bird’s song is sorrowful, bemoaning love gone array. Others regard the chirping as an omen of spring or a signal that night is upon us (Shippey 47-51). These contrasting beliefs spur an evolution of the symbol. The nightingale begins to represent the many feelings associated with love, especially an amorous dichotomy of pleasure and pain.

Given the role of the nobility at the time, the class system and arranged marriages often kept two lovers apart. Occasionally, secret meetings or mistresses were arranged and the nightingale’s melody - indicating that night had fallen - signified that it was safe for the individuals to get together. Often, the couple was forced to sublimate their passion. To the separated partners, the nightly chirping was a sad song written by a society that would not permit their love (Shippey 48).

Despite the poor circulation of art in his time, Ronsard should have been familiar with the metaphor due to his education. Since he valued Petrarch so highly, he would have read the Italian poet’s treatment of the nightingale (Petrarch “CCCXI”) and likely sought to introduce the concept to a French audience.

In order to claim the metaphor as his own, Ronsard goes a step further than his predecessors. The poet not only elaborates upon the links between the vehicle and the tenor but the links between the bird and himself. He is writing for Marie but the nightingale becomes the subject of the sonnet. Talking to the bird is how he expresses the desperation he feels about her rejection.

The sonnet’s first two quatrains list the similarities between Ronsard and the nightingale. The bird feels the same physical needs as the poet and seeks true love like it seeks food to eat.

Theologically and practically, man is not much different from animal. Created by God in the first seven days of the world (Gen. 1:1-31), both must find a mate in order to propagate their species and satisfy their biological urges. Ronsard describes how they are “ever trying” to find a consort.

The pair also possesses similar personality traits. Instead of dancing at a chateau, the nightingale flies among the willows in the forest. The poet identifies their shared purpose as they sing and sigh, “we two” endeavouring to enhance a love for life with real love. Ronsard may travel between his home in Vendôme, Angers, and the royal court to pursue Marie but the bird does likewise, searching clearings, streams, and countless trees in the woods. The actions are parallel, as the two are singing a “common song” for their “ladies” who are playing hard to get (Ronsard Les Amours “XLIII”).

The sole difference is that the bird succeeds and becomes “much loved.” “Dulcet trillings” which encouraged the poet earlier become difficult to hear once he realized that the bird has melted the chill within its lady’s heart. The motif of the final sextet is his frustration in the face of rejection. The nightingale can advance from sublimated love to the furor of eros, sensual love, but the poet must keep his own love sublimated.

The irony of the poem lies in the ground of the metaphor: the vehicle that symbolizes tragic love has fallen in love itself. Ronsard’s lady will not wait by a window waiting for him upon hearing his song but the bird has succeeded where he has failed. At court, music accompanied his poetry and the nobility would increase their enjoyment by dancing. In this poem the singing of the nightingale increases the pain of the poet by reminding him how Marie is still out of reach (Ronsard “XLIII”).

When nightingales mate and the nestlings hatch, the male’s song becomes more of a croak (Young 184). Ronsard does not have the opportunity to stop his song as he must continue to write elegantly and persistently in order to gain the object of his love.

Addressing a nightingale is fairly absurd since irrespective their, the bird will not understand what Ronsard says. The nightingale is still given an identity, growing into a character who displays a number of human characteristics. The nightingale’s songs are not aimless chatter but acts motivated by love. It is not flying randomly through the forest but persistently seeking a soul mate. Other animals have been portrayed similarly by the poet, such as the jay who is accused of hurting a linnet’s courtship with loud chirping (Ronsard La Nouvelle continuation des amours “XLIII”).

Speaking an animal is a method for the author to debate with himself. Suffering is not articulate in a letter to a lover but a philosophical deliberation later published (Gendre 535). The technique is later repeated by Ronsard with a skylark, a jay, and other birds in his third volume; the common thread among all of the fowls is that they are known for their beauty and song (Gendre 551). The interaction with the metaphor, real or imagined, humanizes the poem.

The poem also contrasts the contribution of previous generations with the originality possessed by Ronsard and his peers. First seeded by Clément Marot, the patronage of François I, and Jean de Tournes translation of Petrarch’s Canzioniere in the first half of the sixteenth century French Renaissance poetry bloomed with the Pléiade’s poems at the dawn of the 1550s (Glidden 5-13).

When first formed at the Collège Coqueret, the Pléiade group believed that “personal creation must come from an erudite mind” and heavily used classical and Italian influences. As Renaissance trends permeated France, classical or Italian influences became very fashionable. But by the middle of the century, that trend had run its course, replaced by a desire for increased individual innovation (Gendre 14).

Le Continuation des amours was published in 1556, followed the year after by Joachim Du Bellay’s Divers jeux rustiques. Both collections show the beginning of a unique French style (Glidden 19). In the four years since Les Amours, Ronsard made significant advances in his technique. He wrote about himself and his surroundings. The influence of Petrach’s symbolism remains, but Ronsard began making more complete comparisons by adding details.

Along with his work, Ronsard’s philosophy evolved. He largely abandoned composing heavenly topics about subjects like the Gods and creation and chose more earthbound subjects, such as Nature (Silver 225). Classical metaphors are discarded in favour of simpler symbolism from the countryside.

Earlier metaphors were abstract, invoking mythology or nature to depict the passion of love. Inspired by her beauty, Ronsard addressed Cassandra Salviati as a goddess, peerless on Heaven and Earth. To him, she was the only woman worthy of his love and he was devasted when she married Jean Peigné (Ronsard Les Amours “LXI”).

In one poem in Les Amours, Ronsard used four classical metaphors in fourteen lines to portray his feelings. He wanted to disguise himself as a golden shower, like Jupiter did to rape Danae, or transform himself into a white bull and carry her off, imitating the legend of Europa. The banker’s daughter was so attractive that he wrote:

I’d like then, the better to ease my pain,
To be Narcissus, and she a fountain,
Where I’d swim all night, at my pleasure:

And I’d like it, too, if Aurora would never
Light day again, or wake me ever,
So that this night could last forever (Ronsard “XX”).

Ronsard hoped to share his love with Cassandra, ideally during a night of passion that would never end. Later, he used a list to express how Nature had created Cassandra, likening her to a fleur de lys, precious gems, and other beautiful objects (Ronsard “LXI”).

The evolution between Ronsard’s first and second anthologies is evident. Love for Cassandra has been replaced by love for Marie, who becomes the target of more worldly metaphors (Michelucci). Initially, he likened Cassandra’s stunning eyes to “two torches that light up [his] life” (Ronsard “XXV”) to and his desire to “a conquering lion” (Ronsard “XXXV”). Writing for Marie, Ronsard introduces more familiar imagery, such as asking his lady to get up early for a walk in the garden (Ronsard La Continuation “XXV”) or amusing her with an anagram of her name and aimer (Ronsard “VII”).

Instead of the mythical Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy, Ronsard selects a nightingale, a species common throughout France, to hear his tale. Other poets at the time did likewise to reach more readers, like du Bellay who wrote an elegant eulogy for his dog as a metaphor for diligence and loyalty (du Bellay “Epitaphe d’un chien”).

The poet had always spoken about love’s passion but it was only as he developed that he began to write about how the emotions affected him (Cave 80-81). Instead of packing the verses with as many symbols as possible, as was common in Italian poems and earlier works, he includes only one main metaphor. This provides Ronsard an opportunity to explain his feelings further. He alternates between the metaphor and his emotions, comparing the nightingale’s “warbling” with “[his] lady’s scorn.” As the bird is “[cooing its] lady’s love to life,” Ronsard is falling ill (Ronsard “XLIII”).

In the original French version, Ronsard tells the nightingale that “[tu] chantes à l’envy de moi qui vais chantant” (Ronsard “XLIII”). Nature has evolved from basic imagery used to compliment the ode’s recipient to a character who rivals the poet. Confronted with hardships, such as Cassandra’s rejection between the publication of his first two compilations of Amours, Ronsard began to realize the imperfections in the world (Campbell “Ronsard”).

According to Ovid’s work, Philomena must continue to mourn her personal tragedy (Shippey 49). Ronsard bemoans how he has been rebuffed, reminded of his loneliness by the nightingale’s mating calls. He often mentions how life is a necessity for all life in the world. Yearning for Marie’s hand, he writes of the pain he experiences:

Sadly I sing the beauty that must be
Lost to my wounded heart, sick unto dying (Ronsard “XLIII”).

Conceit, especially the idea of martyrdom, appears in both Ronsard and Petrarch’s “Nightingale” poems. The Italian writes that:

Now I know that my fierce fate
Wishes me to learn, as I live and weep:
Nothing that delights us here is lasting. (Petrarch “CCCXI”)

He must cope with Laura’s passing, which has triggered a personal depression. As a result of having fallen in love, Petrarch is suffering due to the loss he feels.

Petrarch lost his love, Laura, to death in 1348 (Campbell “Franscesco Petrarca”) and writes of a nightingale who shares a similar fate. The bird sings “weeps so sweetly” and “fills the sky and country round with sweetness,” reminding the poet of his “harsh fate” throughout the night. This nightingale also receives a personality, experiencing human emotions of love and loss, using song to grieve aloud (Petrach “CCCXI”).

One of the basic metaphors shared by Ronsard and Petrarch is to describe love as a two-sided coin, capable of tumultuous highs and lows. Ronsard made use of the nightingale to juxtapose contrasting imagery, like weeping and sweetness or singing with joy and sighing in exasperation (Ronsard La Continuation des amours “XLIII”).

Plato defined the first step of love as a “desire for the perpetual possession of the good” (Plato The Symposium). Formerly, Ronsard was enthralled by Cassandra’s beauty. Although he has been rejected by Marie at the moment, Ronsard’s place on the philosopher’s gradus amoris is higher than during his obsession with Cassandra. He is no longer fixated upon one woman since he is more aware of his surroundings (Cave 85). Both the nightingale and Ronsard desire immortality; the bird by mating and having offspring, the poet through his work and desire to share himself with Marie. Ironically, the animal is ahead of man on the ladder of love, having completed its goal.

Symbolism in “The Nightingale” has centuries of history to serve as a canvas and charcoal but Ronsard uses the actions of the bird as colourful brush strokes to complete the painting. Superficially, the metaphor is not original as any scholar would be able to identify its roots. However, Ronsard surpasses a partial comparison between a tenor and the vehicle and develops the ground in detail. The fine details enrich the poem and add the irony which increases its meaning. Consequently, the poem has become a significant work and achieved literary immortality.

Bibliography:

Campbell, Gordon. “Pierre de Ronsard.” The Oxford Dictionary of the Renaissance. Oxford University Press. 12 July 2008
Cave, Terrence C. “Ronsard as Apollo: Myth, Poetry and Experience in a Renaissance Sonnet-Cycle.” Image and Symbol in the Renaissance 47 (1972): p. 76-89.
Gendre, André. Notes littéraires. Les Amours. By Pierre de Ronsard. Livre de Poche: Paris, 1993.
Glidden, Hope. “Introduction.” Lyrics of the French Renaissance. Ed. Norman R. Shapiro. University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 2006.
The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. Bible Gateway. 5 July 2008
Michelucci, Pascal. Lecture. “Ronsard and Les Amours.” Institut de Touraine, Tours, 10 July 2008.
Plato. The Symposium. 385 B.C.. eBooks@Adelaide.Trans. Steven Jowett. 2004. 16 July 2008. <>.
Kline, Anthony K., Ed. Poetry in Translation. 14 July 2008. .
Shapiro, Norman R., ed. Lyrics of the French Renaissance. By Clément Marot, Joachim du Bellay, and Pierre de Ronsard. Trans. Norman R. Shapiro. University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 2006.
Shippey, Thomas A. “Listening to the Nightingale.” Comparative Literature 22.1, (Winter 1970): p. 46-60.
Young, Arthur M. “Of the Nightingale’s Song.” The Classical Journal 46.4 (Jan. 1951): p. 181-184.

Thoughts from the T.G.V.

Notre-Dame et la Foule

Finished Paris Weekend: Cinématheque Française (who knew Dr. Fu-Manchu would go on to become Count Dooku?), Museé national d’art moderne (a cogent history of modern art - sans surrealists for the most part for some reason - that is physically and mentally tiring), and walking around during Bastille Day (apparently it takes a while for the serious parades to get started).

How do real Parisians manage? Tourists attack the town like locusts, there’s excessive inflation (not Phil Graham-like “mental inflation”), and traffic is poor. It gets worse in a couple of weeks when bicyclists flood the city. On the plus side, there is a nice subway system that moves swiftly despite the fact that Paris hasn’t understood how to schedule express trains and share tunnels. Everyone must take a photo of everything, such that their camera becomes their best friend and biggest memory of their trip. Fortunately I am no longer part of that plague for the time being.

The line for Notre-Dame was over an hour and I wasn’t feeling like it at the time so I strolled about instead. It’s a pleasant place to relax.

How does one stay cool? I found out that Beck is releasing a new album in the T.G.V. complimentary magazine. I found out about Oasis’s new release in a similar fashion. In the 1990s, they were my absolute favourite artist and group and now I know nothing about what they are doing. Rumours that Beck hanged himself on a guitar string were untrue; he simply disappeared for three years.

So frustrated with pop music, I have been listening to Nevermind and The Bends far too often. I don’t want to turn on the radio because it’s often drivel. Listening to Nickelback thrice every hour is too much to take. How does one with a job and other interests keep up to date and find new good music these days?

Fish in a Flock and Sheep in a School

Natural Light

Visit to Paris so far this weekend has included: Musée du Louvre, Tour d’Eiffel, Musée d’Orsay, Espace Dali, and Musée Picasso.

At the Louvre, everyone packed certain exhibition halls to see the Mona Lisa, the Winged Victory of Samothrace, the Venus de Milo, and a few other prominent pieces. At Orsay, everyone crowded the Vincent Van Gogh rooms. Why?

Works such as Liberty Leading the People by Delacroix because of its cultural commentary about the French Revolution or Hommage to Cézanne by Denis because of its ironical retelling of impressionism. Or countless other individual pieces.

Art is for the creator and the viewer. It’s important to understand what it means to you. What society says means nothing because individuals must establish their own truth. Art could simply be a venue for quiet reflection. Or the artist could speak personally to the audience. But blindly accepting conventions is nothing. This is a bit of a House-like argument (the character is criticized in episodes as a hypocrite because he does seek to break rules but only wants to substitute his own for society’s). It would be cheaper to walk in a park and talk mindless photos.

Many works are best appreciated from a distance, usually greater than six inches. I don’t understand the temptation to take photos of every work in a museum. Is it because people won’t believe that they actual visited the collection? Most museums have databases or catalogues, compiled by photographers with better equipment and greater skill than amateurs. If one spends some much time viewing things through a lens, how does one see the big picture and develop their own ideas?

I don’t know how to take excellent photographs. I try to find perspectives that pique my interest or seem out of the ordinary. “Natural Light” is a photo that captures visitors to the Musée d’Orsay who while visiting an exhibit on shadow theatre might not realize they are part of a show for those in the main hall.

And it didn’t make use of flash photography. Most museums have signs mentioning that flashes or cameras are not permitted. The main reason is that flashes damage certain works within six to twelve feet, especially tapestries, objets d’art, and some prints. It’s akin to touching a sculpture to a degree. At the Picasso Museum, a gentleman was endeavouring to take a flash photo of a rare Picasso tapestry when a woman walked in front of him to use the stairs. The would-be photographer criticized the stair-climber and demanded an apology. At other museums, visitors were taking pleasure in destroying some of Salvador Dali’s most original artwork (in terms of style and technique, an aspect for which he doesn’t get as much credit for his creativity).

Where did such ignorant self-importance come from? People have to insert themselves in photos everywhere, often blocking access. Again, is it because people won’t believe they visited the location? I try to keep photo-taking sparse and improve the overall quality of the collection. It impedes collective functionality for individual self-indulgence (usually with poor form). Why does the world tolerate so much idiocy?

Marguerite de Navarre's Heptaméron

My First Essay for FCS369Y: Allegories and Humour Show how Heroes are Rewarded
Like the wry smile Leornardo da Vinci painted on Mona Lisa, Jean Clouet’s portrait of Marguerite de Navarre, displays her knowledge and wit. She proved a controversial figure during the French Renaissance, a proponent of the abilities of women and religious integrity but also a writer who was quite risqué. Always supporting her words with actions, she provided protection to persecuted authors like François Rabelais and once rode on horseback from Lyons to Madrid in order to negotiate the freedom of her brother François I from Spanish captivity (Oxford “Marguerite d’Angoulême”).

Published posthumously, the seventy-two short stories of The Heptaméron were Marguerite’s final attempt to influence with symbolism and satire. In Pico della Mirandola’s sublunary sphere, akin to the real world, les dévisants Simontault, Nomerfide, and Geburon highlight values such as justice, education, and equality. In the angelic sphere, which is Pico filled with Platonic ideas, allegories to remind readers that they face a judgment for their sins (University of Virginia “Macrocosm vs. Microcosm”).

Throughout the anthology, Marguerite’s sense of humour enriches the book. It is occasionally absurdly hilarious when characters receive their “just desserts” - literally and figuratively – and often irony because of her choice of words. Her education in the royal court exposed her to classical texts which employed similar styles and techniques.

Simontault relates how my lord de la Tireliere and his acquaintance search for a meal at the expense of another and find more than they had bargained for. An apothecary’s apprentice overhears their conversation and discovers their wicked intentions. Wishing to punish the jackanapes for their deception, the apprentice retrieves a frozen lump of dung from the town’s public lavatory. He drops the excrement in front of the scoundrels who sought to swindle the shop and tempts them to pick up what they believe is a sugar loaf. Endeavouring to dine and dash, the noblemen enter a tavern, where heat thaws the fake loaf and produces a mighty stench. A serving-maid accuses the visitors of causing the foul odour and they leave, realizing that an expensive fox-skin coat has been spoiled. The gentlemen realize that they have received their comeuppance thanks to the one who they believed they had duped (Marguerite 161).

Irony abounds when a noble lord, who is named after the French word for a piggy-bank, is so stingy that he could not pay for his own meal. It is not a matter of ability to pay; Tireliere was visiting the town to conduct business and merely wished to take advantage of the lower class. A lawyer cannot be bothered to obey the law. An apothecary’s apprentice, who would normally make people better, decides to trick others and must lower himself by visiting a filthy place to do so. Both the hero and the villains hide the loaf under their sleeves, symbolizing the dishonesty they have undertaken. Dirt and dishonesty are closely linked in this tale.

Crime does not pay as the potential thieves got what they deserve: the stolen dessert is nothing more than someone else’s business and their shameful actions have become known to all in the tavern. In addition, the cost of the ruined coat is far greater than what would have been saved by the free food.

Prejudice is likewise decried, as a townsperson shows himself to be cleverer than an aristocrat and an advocate. Regardless of their standing, the noblemen understand that a commoner possessed the wherewithal to con them. Honour and education are the critical morals of the story which is also an allegorical warning of man’s final judgment.

Comedy also enhances Geburon’s an anecdote of a poor woman who traps members of an upper class, two Grey Friars, on separate islands and exposes their true nature to the town. A metaphor, like comparing the embarrassment the Friars felt about the revelation of their sins to the emotion that Adam felt in the garden when he first became aware that he was naked, adds immense detail to the fable (Marguerite 20).

Humour equalizes the two sexes and different classes (Wynn 56). Marguerite believed strongly in the rights of women and saw herself as a pope to the poor (Oxford “Marguerite d’Angoulême”). Amid the period’s changing attitudes, Marguerite hoped to influence her learned peers and provide them with a good laugh (Wynn 53). Had she simply announced her message in a sermon, it would have been neither as well-received nor as well-publicized as when placed between the lines of an entertaining book.

A noble lady’s fall from grace is narrated by Nomerfide, who says that Lady de Roncex thinks so highly of herself and is so ashamed of her attendant that she feels above La Mothe’s help. Entering a poorly lit privy whilst in a rush, she settles on a soiled seat. Covered in muck, de Roncex calls out and her wench immediately goes to get help, thinking that her lady is about to lose her honour. Instead, de Roncex loses her dignity when the band of citizens arrives to rescue her and sees her current state. All burst into laughter as was a matter that only a few should have been “privy” to becomes widely known. The noblewoman is terribly ashamed yet comes to see the humour of the situation. Irrespective of the earlier embarrassment she felt about La Mothe, the lady is able to appreciate her earnest assistance and sets aside her anger (Marguerite 56).

Aside from the literal account of an ill-fated visit to the privy, the story is an allegory with multiple interpretations. Typological themes include a conscientious and courageous maid whose qualities are eventually recognized. Once Lady de Roncex put her arrogance aside, she realized the actual situation. Covered with grime, de Roncex understands that her higher position is not permanent. Under pressure, La Mothe had acted nobly, despite her lower class. The moral interpretation stresses bravery and treating others justly. The anagogical meaning is that good behaviour is eventually rewarded and individuals should live life to the fullest.

Such body humour was lowbrow but it was also used by other contemporary authors like Rabelais, a writer under Marguerite’s protection. He attributed the death of 280,000 Parisians in a flood to Gargantua’s urination (Rabelais 256-7). The stream is not the River Styx or a Lake of Fire but the message of judgment comes across clearly.

Bodily functions are epitomic of filth and human waste which should be cast aside. Death and judgment were weighty issues but Marguerite added levity to the situation with satire (Winn 59). In the face of the upsetting situation, Lady de Roncex is able to cast aside the real rubbish by changing her dress before she left the monastery and forget her emotional detritus by forgiving her wench over the misunderstanding.

Not all stories are negative and many recount steadfast love or instances of bravery. Geburon’s sixteenth tale includes both as a lady tests the fidelity of a lover who has been following her to church by initially feigning illness and staying home for a while, later rebuking his first approach, and eventually ignoring him and his love letters over the course of three years. At long last, she permits the Frenchman to enter her room but arranges a final test, a loud clamour of swords in the hall. She tells her devotee that her brothers have come to kill him and urges him to conceal himself under the bed. When the gentleman goes to confront his attackers and finds only serving-maids banging swords together, the lady observes his gallantry and accepts his love (Marguerite 67).

In the relationship, both man and woman are equal partners. The Frenchman must prove his loyalty and valour without doubt before he gains the lady’s hand. Repeated visits to church are emblematic of his love for the lady. Like any honourable citizen, he possesses a great devotion to his religion but he is also dedicated towards his love. Compared to eternity, three years and many refusals is not a long time; Marguerite wants her readers to share her belief in a heavenly reward for actions on Earth.

During the story’s climax, Marguerite cuts the tension with an absurd moment. As the gentleman opens the door to confront his pursuers, he catches two serving-maids in the act. The reader can easily visualize their look of surprise and guilt and laugh before returning the solemnity of the couple’s commitment to each other.

At the turn of the sixteenth century, Marguerite spent a decade growing up at the Château d’Amboise with her mother, Louise of Savoie, and brother, the future François I (Fabri 104). As she witnessed ships laden with goods from Italy travelling up the Loire River heralding the arrival of the Renaissance in France, she witnessed the influx of new ideas in the French culture. Medieval traditions were replaced and classical works were distributed among the learned circles of which Marguerite was an active member thanks to her tutors and keen reading (Oxford “Plato in the Renaissance”).

Marguerite would have been exposed to Plato, who often wrote allegorically to emphasize his philosophy, retelling parables in The Republic to illustrate the importance of education and justice. One story illustrates how a person entering the real world after a lifetime in a cave is temporary blind, despite the perspective he has gained (Plato 514-521b), and another is the myth of Er’s voyage to the afterlife (Plato 614-621). Humour also enriches the stories, like the banter between the speakers or ridiculous moments like when Thersites, a local buffoon, is reincarnated as an ape (Plato 620c). Marguerite used comparable methods to colour the pages of The Heptameron.

Throughout The Republic, the philosophers debate the merits of just acts compared to unjust ones and eventually conclude that the philosopher king is 729 times happier than the tyrant (Plato 587d). Socrates also recounts the consequences administered by Lachesis during Er’s visit (617d-621a). These Literal and tropological interpretations also present in Marguerite’s tales (Michelucci Symbolism).

Neoclassicism is mentioned by les dévisants but Marguerite remained inspired by her religious beliefs (Bernard 4-5). The Bible, which influenced the nobility, is full of allegory, from the Psalms to the Gospel. Jesus made his point with metaphors and humour, once encouraging people to live their lives to the fullest, telling parable of the dead burying the dead (Flynn 44). Other allegories include man literally reaping what he sows when a forgetful hole-digger falls into his own pit (Ps. 7.15) and the anagogical foretelling of how each will be judged according to their works (Rev. 20.13). These themes where prominent in Marguerite’s life and her other works (Winandy 145).

Values and morals are interpretative: seminal texts written thousands of years ago or during the Middle Ages and Renaissance remain enthusiastically debated today as if published yesterday and The Heptaméron is no different. Whether Marguerite’s principal work is analyzed for literal, topological, tropological, or anagogical interpretations, her staunch beliefs about justice, equality, and education are apparent.

Only rarely will a rogue escape, like Oisille’s muleteer (Marguerite 9) but characters are normally judged for their actions. In each of Pico’s three spheres, one can run but they can never hide. Villains never know who will make them suffer the consequences, a mere apprentice or St-Peter himself. The hero described by Geburon is ultimately rewarded for his patience but others may need to wait for their prize.

Bibliography:

Bernard, Robert W. “Platonism: Myth or Reality in the Héptameron.” Sixteenth Century Journal 5.1. (April 1974): 3-14.
Clouet, Jean. Marguerite d’Angoulême. 1530. Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool.
da Vinci, Leonardo. Mona Lisa. 1528. Musée du Louvre, Paris.
Fabri, Patrizia, Simonetta Giorgi, et al. Châteaux de Loire. Paris: Bonechi, 1995.
Flynn, Leslie B. Serve Him with Mirth. Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing, 1960.
The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. Bible Gateway. 5 July 2008
Maguerite, Queen of Navarre. The Heptameron. ed. Stanley Appelbaum. Trans. Arthur Machen. Dover: Mineola, 2006.
Michelucci, Pascal. Lecture. “Symbolism: Signs, Icons, Emblems, Archetypes, Allegories, Metaphors, and Interpration.” Institut de Touraine, Tours, 4 July 2008.
The Oxford Dictionary of the Renaissance. Oxford University Press. 5 July 2008
Plato. The Republic, 2nd Edition. Trans. Desmond Lee. Toronto: Penguin Group, 2007.
Rabelais, François. Gargantua. Trans. M.A. Screech. Toronto: Penguin Group, 2006.
The Dictionary of the History of Ideas. University of Virginia Library. 6 July 2008
Winandy, André. “Piety and Humanistic Symbolism in the Works of Marguerite d'Angoulême, Queen of Navarre.” Yale French Studies 47 (1972): 145-169.
Winn, Colette H. “Rire et Angoisse dans L’Héptameron” Rocky Mountain Review of Language and Literature 41.1-2 (1987): p.51-64.

Pour toute la gloire du monde

Rafael Nadal finally beat Roger Federer at Wimbledon. After five consecutive championships, Roger relinquished the crown in five sets. Even McEnroe finally beat Borg in 1981. Nadal’s game has the sense of inevitability about it: his athleticism, the longer rallies, Federer’s unforced errors, the sense he gets the ball back (with a lot of power and spin) and the opponent screws up….

Eventualy, it all caught up to Federer. Had he taken advantage of his break points, he would have been in a much better position. But he needs to develop new strategies to face Nadal; it was always the Spaniard who had the championship points in their Wimbledon final. As the match wore on, Nadal’s focus was tenacious, Federer seemed to lose control at times.

Occasionally, Federer was deep in a rally and went for too much. He felt that he couldn’t win the point unless he did something extraordinary. I think he should try to break down the matches into smaller pieces, game by game, point by point. There are many little things that Federer could practice which would enhance his highly skilled game by adding a little more power.

Federer had a clear advantage in serve and volley and aces. I think it would benefit him to try to shorten points, with more angled serves, deeper backhands, more spin and slice shots. I think he could go to the net more and he shouldn’t run around his forehand as much. Federer’s number two in the world now but he’s not as far back as the public believes.

Espace Détente

Place du 14 Juillet

One service admirably accomplished by the municipal, provincial, and federal government in Tours is the creation and maintenance of public spaces. Throughout the city, there are dozens of locations where citizens may relax, play chess or pétanque, view gardens or pieces of art, and otherwise enjoy themselves at no cost (I assume that they are paying for it with tax dollars but at least they get to benefit from their contribution to the system).

Over time, parts of Tours have been destroyed due to fire, Huguenots, Reformists, the French Revolution, and the air bombings of the Second World War. Plus the places that people demolished themselves because they felt the architectural style (in this case Gothic) was no longer fashionable. But the city usually rebuilds what has been lost, to some degree, or replaces it.

Place Plumereau is a lively outdoor square where tourists loiter and couples get married on the weekends. Place du 14 Juillet is a quiet area for conversations and a meeting place. Place Jean-Jaures is the centre of town, where almost all the bus routes connect. Le Jardin Botanique has a quaint petting zoo where lambs, calves, and roosters can congregate together.

For all of the benefit derived by citizens and the dollars gained from increased tourism, Tours profits from these spaces. Toronto lacks the foresight to design spaces properly, for example building a post-modern City Hall and then cramming it with gardens, fountains, vendors, and other urban detritus, and the wherewithal to maintain what already exists, illustrated by the decline of the Toronto Islands or parks where the equipment was removed due to excessive legal worries. When something potentially interesting is built, like Yonge-Dundas Square, it takes years to apply the finishing touches and even more to create an identity.

In this case, simplicity and giving everyone a little something, so they can see their property taxes at work, is the best way to reward citizens and promote the city.

The Pope Tried to Dunk...

Cave des Roches Tunnel

My group visited four locations today and witnessed several instances of how people love to shoot themselves in the foot. But otherwise, the places were all very nice and pretty.

La Cave des Roches: Despite being told that there were 120 kilometres of limestone tunnels (blue foot mushroom tunnel shown) spread out over seven levels and that someone got lost last week, members of the group continued to press on without the guide in order to take photos, doubling the length of the tour.

Les Caves Monmousseau: Luckily, some of the students were impatiently waiting for the “Méthod Traditionel” (absolutely not Champgne but one probably couldn’t tell the difference) tasting at the end of the tour so they didn’t wander everywhere taking photos.

Clos Lucé: Leornardo da Vinci’s last home contains several prototypes that pre-date the actual invention by several centuries. At one point during his stay, da Vinci had written that the time for learning had passed and he should devote his remaining years to innovation. Despite what the Canadian and Ontario governments believe, it may be necessary to devote tax money to development; had more attention been paid to da Vinci’s brainstorming, advances in military technology, flight, and public infrastructure would have occurred years earlier.

Château d’Amboise: One of the homes of the French monarchy in and around the Hundred Years War and the Wars of Religion, the Château d’Amboise was quite large and somewhat ornate. Napolean gave it to a friend who was a senator representing Orléans under the condition that he restore and maintain it. So the friend demolished eighty percent of the architecturally unique building in order to reduce what he had to pay for.

As Run D.M.C. always said, people should never forget their common sense.