Read The Passion of Dolssa Page 31


  In reality, many of those interrogated by inquisitors couldn’t explain what the good men and women believed at all. Their impact may have had less to do with doctrine, and more to do with tradition, or family and friendship ties. The good men and women were part of the fabric of life in Provincia, just as farmers and fishermen, priests and prostitutes were. None of them needed a religion to explain its presence.

  In the nineteenth century, however, European and American scholars, studying the records of the Cathars written by Catholic scholars, presumed without question that they were a church. They proposed the paradigm that remains popular: that Catharism was the most famous heresy of the Middle Ages, that it was the instigator of both reform and repression within the Church, that it was an early but crushed form of proto-Protestantism. This deeply romantic image of the tragically pure, martyred Cathars still lingers in some academic publications, and in plenty of popular fiction. Cathar legends, castles, and tourist attractions thrive today.

  Dolssa is not one of the good women. She is a Catholic mystic. But her fate is wrapped up in that of the friends of God, since she was born in the waning years of the crusade, and the dawn of the inquisitors. In the aftermath of the Albigensian Crusade, even deviance as pious as hers could be deadly.

  The annihilation of the good men and women, the vanishing of cortezia, and the success of the Cathar myth serve as reminders that the victors in the belief wars will always be the chroniclers whose testimonies last, the historians whose interpretations spread, the writers of the books that are not burned. The best way to squash an inconvenient idea is to not to combat it but to quietly burn its records, discredit and suppress its voices, and deny their existence. Where denial is impossible, fabricating a new story about them and their origins will work just as well.

  This is why Holocaust deniers frighten me, as do those who overlook genocide, and those who use legislative means to rewrite textbooks. If truth matters one iota, we can’t be content to write history as we’d like it to have gone. We must tell it, to the best of our biased and hampered ability, exactly as it was.

  Church chroniclers may have pointed a false trail, but the inquisitors who transcribed the testimony of every peasant or noble interviewed did us a tremendous, if accidental, service. Even in the act of silencing heresy, they preserved the voices and values of a world on the brink of extinction. Though people answered questions in fear for their lives, and often agreed to answers inquisitors supplied for them, their passionate, flawed, vibrant humanity echoes through dusty parchment pages, perceptible to those modern historians willing to devote the time and study, as my Friar Arnaut did, to examining what the sources actually said. This novel is dedicated, with deep affection, to two of them.

  GLOSSARIES

  About the Use of Foreign Words in This Novel

  Occitan is the name used today for the Romance language still spoken in southern France, Monaco, and parts of Italy and Spain. It descends recognizably from a language used during the Middle Ages that scholars call Old Provençal. It was the elegant, poetic language of the troubadours whose songs were sung in courts throughout Europe.

  In France today, Occitan stubbornly survives, though the number of speakers continues to decline. I chose to use Old Provençal words as linguistic reminders of a once-flourishing language and culture that gradually succumbed to war, oppression, and annexation.

  Finding authoritative sources for a language spoken in the thirteenth century was difficult, especially for an English speaker with limited French. Old Provençal had many different dialects and no standardized spellings. I drew from several sources mentioned in the bibliography, prioritizing those that seemed oldest and most authoritative. Ultimately I chose to codify my own lexicon for use in this book, and occasionally I did borrow a word or two from modern Occitan. I also used some words from Latin, with smatterings from other European languages then in use, since trade, church, and legal matters took place in a multi-lingual context then, as now.

  To me, Old Provençal read strangely at first, but its strangeness became its beauty.

  OLD PROVENÇAL WORDS USED

  abadia: abbey.

  Abadia de Fontfreda: loosely, the Coldspring Abbey. Known by its French name, L’Abbaye de Fontfroide, it is not far from Narbonne (Narbona) and Bages (Bajas). It still functions as a museum, vineyard, winery, restaurant, and hotel.

  acabansa: finished, done.

  amic/amicx: friend (singular/plural).

  amicx de Dieu: the friends of God. See bona femna and bon ome for more information.

  amor: love.

  an: year.

  aze: buttocks, bottom.

  bastida: bastide, a new type of walled market town built throughout Provensa according to the terms of the Treaty of Paris that ended the Albigensian Crusade. Count Raimon VII of Toulouse was allowed to build such towns for economic and political purposes, provided they did not have military fortifications. In this way he attempted to rebuild his lands following the devastation of the crusade. Over the next century some seven hundred were built.

  bayle: bailiff; an officer of a count, a lord, or the king.

  bon/bona: good (masculine/feminine). Plural, bons/bonas.

  bona femna/bonas femnas: good woman (singular/plural). The term could mean generally a woman held in esteem or respect. In the specific context of the practices deemed as heretical by the pope and the inquisitors, it meant those women who practiced certain localized rituals of courtesy (cortezia) and holiness, and received honor (onor), respect, and gifts in their community for their holy status, or at least they did before the Albigensian Crusade of 1209–1229. Men who held the same status and observed the same practices were called bons omes. They were also, as a group, referred to as the amicx de Dieu, or friends of God.

  bonjọrn: good day (greeting). From bon (good) + jọrn (day).

  bon ome/bons omes: good man, the masculine counterpart of bona femna (singular/plural).

  caçolet: there is no English name for this dish; we call it by its French name, cassoulet. It was a peasant dish that originated in Provensa, made from dried beans, bits of meat and fat (typically salted duck and pork, or mutton, goose, partridge), slow-cooked in a clay bowl (a cassoule) to form a succulent and hearty stew. Three cities that feature in our story—Toulouse (Tolosa), Castelnáudary (Castèlnòu d’Arri), and Carcassonne (Carcassona)—have a friendly dispute today over which of them originated the cassoulet.

  castȩl: castle.

  comtessa: countess.

  cortezia: courtesy, courtliness. An elaborate set of rules and rituals for how all members of society showed deference and respect to one another, through words, actions, and gifts. In the thirteenth century, in this area of Provensa, courtesy was far more than mere social politeness. It permeated all social relationships, and defined the “courtliness” of the age for which southern nobles were known.

  devina: soothsayer, witch (feminine).

  Dieu: God.

  domna: lady; term of address used for women of noble origin.

  donzȩlla: Miss, maiden, young woman (suggesting nobility).

  enamoratz/enamorat: lover, (singular/plural).

  eṇfan: infant or young child.

  faidit: a term for southern nobles displaced from their lands (and thus their honor or onor) by the crusade. It disparagingly implied that one was an outcast, a rebel, a sympathizer with heretics, a fugitive, and a criminal.

  femna: woman.

  filh: son.

  filha: daughter.

  flamenc: flamingo.

  fogasa: flatbread cooked on a hearth, a common staple of diet in Provensa (modern spelling, fogassa). Similar, though not identical, to the Italian focaccia or French fouace.

  galineta: sweetheart.

  grácia: grace, mercy; also thanks.

  Jhesus: Jesus.

  jocglars: the performers who sang the songs written by troubadours; in French, jongleurs.

  lach: milk.

  legums: vegetables.

/>   luna: moon.

  maire: mother.

  maisoṇ: home, dwelling, domicile, usually of someone not noble.

  mar: sea.

  mẹrda: fecal matter.

  mima: term of endearment for grandmother.

  moton: mutton; sheep or goat’s meat.

  mujọl: mullet; an edible fish found in the Mediterranean.

  Na: (short for domna) lady; term of address used for women of noble origin.

  ome: man.

  ọncle: uncle.

  onor: honor; it could also mean a gift, or the title or inheritance to a piece of property, as these were, in this society, related ideas.

  paire: father.

  pap: term of endearment for grandfather.

  pọl: chicken, rooster.

  polẹt: young chicken, young bird; can also be a term of endearment: “My little chicken!”

  poma: apple.

  prta: door or gate.

  Prta Narbonesa: the Narbonne Gate, a major gate entering the city of Toulouse (Tolosa) from the south.

  Provensa: a term used by troubadours to describe the region of present-day southern France where Occitan was spoken.

  rossinhol: nightingale.

  sant/santa: saint (masculine/feminine).

  senhor: lord.

  sẹr: evening.

  sọpa: soup.

  srre: sister.

  tanta: aunt.

  toza: girl.

  tozẹt: boy.

  trobador: troubadour, one of the poets of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, who originated in Provensa. They are largely credited with establishing the foundations of Western poetry and romantic literature and, in some sense, romance itself as we now understand it, through their songs and ballads of courtly love.

  vila: village, villa, town.

  viṇ: wine.

  LATIN WORDS USED

  castrum/castra: fortified farm or village (singular/plural).

  Dominus: Lord. Latin, not Old Provençal, was used to designate a priest. Hence Bernard, the village priest, is “Dominus Bernard” not “Senhor Bernard.” (The tradition of referring to priests as “Father” emerged later.)

  friar: brother; used to refer to members of various male religious orders who viewed one another as brothers, including the Dominicans and Franciscans.

  illiteratus: illiterate. Friar Lucien, trained in theology using Latin, would have felt superior to less educated country priests and used this Latin slur, which he would have heard in his university studies.

  medicus/medica: healer (masculine/feminine).

  Provincia: the Latin name for the region referred to elsewhere in the novel as Provensa. Churchmen and scholars, such as Friar Arnaut d’Avinhonet, would certainly have referred to it by its Latin name.

  socii: partner, associate. Each Dominican friar was assigned a companion, to remain with him at all times. They were supposed to work in pairs.

  OTHER TERMS

  Albigensian: a French term used to describe the “heretics,” as the good men and good women were accused of being. The term was coined by northern Crusaders and the monastic intellectuals who wrote about and argued in favor of the Crusade of 1209–1229. In time, the Crusade came to be known as the Albigensian Crusade, but the people living in and around Provensa, the term I’m using for present-day Southern France, would have been unlikely to use this term during the war—and prior to the war, would have been extremely unlikely to consider the good men and good women anything other than good Christians.

  fidel: a stringed musical instrument played with a bow, also called the vielle or viuola. Considered a precursor to the violin or viola.

  PLACE NAMES

  The Occitan name for places in the book, and what we call them now.

  Place Name (Occitan) Place Name Today (In French, Spanish, or English)

  Anglatèrra England

  Avinhonet Avignonet

  Bajas Bages

  Balbastro, Aragón Barbastro, Spain

  Barçalona, Catalonha Barcelona, Catalonia

  Basièja Baziège

  Besièrs Béziers

  Carcassona Carcassonne

  Castèlnòu d’Arri Castelnaudary

  Florença Florence (Firenze in Italian)

  Fontcobèrta Fontcouverte

  Londres London

  Narbona Narbonne

  Perpinhan Perpignan

  Polinyino, Aragón Poleñino, Spain

  Roma Rome

  San Cucufati St. Couat d’Aude

  Tolosa Toulouse

  Vilafranca de Lauragués Villefranche-de-Lauragais

  ADDITIONAL READING

  On Medieval Women Mystics

  Carol Flinders’s Enduring Grace brings the spirituality, sensuality, and longings of the seven women she studied vividly to life. Dolssa is a composite of the courageous mystics Flinders portrayed, and a monument to my gratitude.

  On the Albigensian Crusade, the Inquisitions into Heresy, and Daily Life in the Thirteenth Century

  Mark Gregory Pegg’s A Most Holy War: The Albigensian Crusade and the Battle for Christendom and The Corruption of Angels: The Great Inquisition of 1245–1246 are comprehensive, compelling, and field-changing works on the Albigensian Crusade and the “inquisitions into heretical depravity” that followed it. His insistence on examining original sources strips away the myth and fallacy that have for centuries dominated scholarship on heresy and medieval Christianity. Pegg paints a colorful portrait of a society comprised of memorable names and voices, then shows with unflinching candor how war, interrogation, and persecution ripped that society apart. Most strongly recommended.

  On Other Aspects of Medieval Community Life

  R. I. Moore’s highly influential work, The Formation of a Persecuting Society: Authority and Deviance in Western Europe, 950–1250 tells the story of how persecution became a way of life in Latin Christendom beginning in the twelfth century. Quite simply, it wasn’t always the case, and Moore convincingly pinpoints its surprising origins. A highly rewarding read. His more recent The War on Heresy elaborates on and clarifies in a sweeping narrative this “persecuting society” from the eleventh to the thirteenth centuries. Leah L. Otis’s meticulous work, Prostitution in Medieval Society, dives deeply into a marginalized yet indispensable aspect of medieval community life. Prostitution touched community, family, marriage, sex, politics, religion, and money. Thus her work, which, fortunately for me, focused on the very corner of Europe I was most interested in, was a treasure trove of detail.

  On the Language of Old Provençal and the Songs of the Troubadours

  For a work that presents troubadour writings in faithful and lyrical English translations by poets including Ezra Pound, alongside the beauty of the original Occitan (or, to be precise, Old Provençal), I recommend Lark in the Morning, edited and translated by Robert Kehew, Ezra Pound, and W. D. Snodgrass. For anyone wishing to closely study Occitan as spoken during the Middle Ages, I recommend An Old Provençal Primer by Nathaniel Smith and Thomas Bergin.

  On All of the Above

  The audio course, “Terror of History: Mystics, Heretics, and Witches in the Western Tradition,” published by The Great Courses Company, and taught by Professor Teofilo Ruiz of UCLA, provides an engaging and far-reaching overview of the ideas presented here.

  SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

  Adamson, Melitta Weiss. Food in Medieval Times. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood,

  2004.

  Ames, Christine Caldwell. Righteous Persecution: Inquisition, Dominicans, and Christianity in the Middle Ages. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009.

  Bennett, Ralph Francis. The Early Dominicans: Studies in Thirteenth-Century Dominican History. Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press, 1937.

  Brunn, Emilie, and Georgette Epiney-Burgard. Women Mystics in Medieval Europe. New York: Paragon House, 1989.

  Cheyette, Fredric L. Ermengard of Narbonne and the World of the Troubadours. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2001.

  Flin
ders, Carol. Enduring Grace: Living Portraits of Seven Women Mystics. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1993.

  Furlong, Monica. Visions & Longings: Medieval Women Mystics. Boston: Shambhala, 1996.

  Kehew, Robert, Ezra Pound, and W. D. Snodgrass. Lark in the Morning: The Verses of the Troubadours. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005.

  Levy, Emil. Petit Dictionnaire Provençal-français,. 3rd ed. Heidelberg: C. Winter, 1961.

  Moore, R. I. The Formation of a Persecuting Society: Power and Deviance in Western Europe, 950–1250. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 1990.

  Moore, R. I. The War on Heresy. Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap of Harvard University Press, 2012.

  Otis, Leah L. Prostitution in Medieval Society: The History of an Urban Institution in Languedoc. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985.

  Pegg, Mark Gregory. The Corruption of Angels: The Great Inquisition of 1245–1246. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001.

  Pegg, Mark Gregory. A Most Holy War: The Albigensian Crusade and the Battle for Christendom. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008.

  Ruiz, Teofilo. “Terror of History: Mystics, Heretics, and Witches in the Western Tradition.” Chantilly, Va.: The Great Courses Company, 2002. Audio recording.

  Sibly, W. A. and M. D. Sibly, eds. The Chronicle of William of Puylaurens: The Albigensian Crusade and Its Aftermath. Woodbridge, Suffolk, Eng.: Boydell, 2003.

  Smith, Nathaniel B., and Thomas Goddard Bergin. An Old Provençal Primer. New York: Garland, 1984.

  Wakefield, Walter L. Heresy, Crusade, and Inquisition in Southern France, 1100–1250. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974.

  Acknowledgements

  The colorful, messy, flesh-and-blood humanity of those who died on either side of the thirteenth century turmoil over heresy weighed upon me during the two years I worked on this book. This book is for them. So much needless loss must impart a sense of reverence, and, for the writer, a humbling obligation to get the story right. Yet there will be errors, and for them, I apologize.