Francois Villon: as being a thief, a murderer and a Vagabond to become the chief poet of the nation
I am françois, which is not happy
— Alas, will die a villain
And what is the weight of this ass
— Soon finds out the neck.You can make history and the glory of the great, if you’re a skilled thief, assassin, and generally a person deeply immoral? Francois Villon answered — Yes, of course. To do this, just want something to pass first French lyricist, and to develop his talent as a poet. But this is not so easy to not to the level of the author of the text of the song «my favorite Name» and to such an extent that everyone from tavern revelers of the 15th century, and ending with the vaunted strict critic of the 21st century, from one of your poems it was the tears of delight on her cheeks.
Villon personality paradoxical and unique, despite the criminal lifestyle, its role and influence on the art world cannot be overestimated. Many are so impressed by the creations «the poet of thieves and vagrants,» which subsequently, vygonovskoe influence began to notice in many verses.
And, of course, if it were not so contradictory fate of hundreds of murders and Walker, the person would not be so interesting. Which is a pity.
About Villon should speak with caution. Not because his followers in the matter of the knife and words can trap in the alley, and torture you with a sarcastic ballad of the wizard, just his entire life is a tangle of myths, speculation and reality, and the problem that it is impossible to understand where fiction and where the truth. All we know about the life and personality of françois Villon, is available to us from two sources — his own poems and from the court documents officially recorded some episodes of his biography. Half of his poems — touching confession, repentance, from which even the stern officer of the law heart blood spray. For example, in the initial stanzas of the «little Wills» Villon writes as if leaving Paris, unable to bear the pangs of unrequited love. This touching story moved until, until he looked in the archival documents and found out that Villon fled Paris not from unrequited love and from the capital justice, which threatened him big trouble. How many can tell about the man justice.And here’s another story. Literary critics admired Villon, was my last money «three little orphans». Which noble man, we all thought, until he learned that the «orphans» actually had a rich and wicked in Paris usurers, which has long been awaited by Villon debt. And wouldn’t wait if I didn’t have a poet shaggy brute of a man with a knife.
In the end, according to court documents Villon — the inveterate criminal, drugega, Shnyrev and a thief. But not without God’s gift. His poems — as if in mockery of himself and the broken fate, the confession, which allows you to see the anguish of the perpetrator and it’s still pure of heart.
Villon was born in Paris in 1431. His real name is Francois from Moncomble, but orphaned at age 8, he was taken into the care of a priest Guillaume de Villon, gave the boy an education, shelter, food and a bunch of kicks.
In 1443 Villon joined the faculty of arts» — the preparatory faculty of the University of Paris and in the summer of 1452, he received the degree of licentiate and master of arts. The use of this degree — both from demonstrations, and to make a career, the medieval student had to pursue an education at the law faculty and become a doctor of Canon law. However, like any normal guy, Villon was interested in the visits to the married and not so ladies, regular partying, fights and clashes of students with the authorities. Just the students acted so blatantly, loudly and freely that the gendarmerie’s persistent complaints from traders over the broken and ruined shops with goods. Matron complained to the night visits of the Cavaliers. Not only that, denied the honor of a decent dev, and boots are not cleaned.
Villon was one of the most conscious and brash bullies. Instead he visited brothels, and studied life in all sorts of cheerful renegades. But it is not deprived of liberty, imprisoned for another. For example, for murder. Even if you defended the permitted limit should not be exceeded. On 5 June 1455, at him with a knife attacked a priest named Philip Sermoes. It is rumored that Villon stood up for the girl, but not only that, the fight happened in front of everyone, on the porch of the Church, so also the result of her was sad. Villon, defending, threw it to the servant of God stone, but so well that he urgently died. It was clear, it sucks, and by submitting, just in case, two requests for clemency, Villon left Paris, beginning a new stage biography, relapse and homelessness. However, surprising for France, it was not. Just ended an exhausting war with the British, the people had nothing to eat, and therefore, numerous flocks of criminals was for many the only way to feed themselves. Monarchs to establish the situation, of course, could not, therefore, acted radically: caught, tried, without going into details and hang. And the people were happy, at least some entertainment.However, after six months, his plaintive request for clemency reached the king, and the sentimentality (even then knew how to write beautifully, rogue) pardoned Villon. But, six months of lawlessness has left its mark. Villon, being an excellent talker, very friendly with some of the leaders of the criminal world, and they taught him well to steal. By the way, Villon became a student at the Sorbonne, he said, «a poor scholar». But led them not thirst for knowledge, just «schoolboys» was outside the jurisdiction of the Royal court. And this was his cover story, as livelihood was not enough, Villon thieved. I must say that during this time he leveled up thieves craft to such an extent that he could easily steal a barrel of wine. For this his friends called him only as «father-breadwinner».
By the way, I have to say about his friends. Oh, it was a groomsman, is the introduction of power could beat them with batons, pull nails, trying to figure out where they are hiding and where to put good. Now such names as Montigny (who was later sentenced to death by hanging for the murder), Dandruff, Solar, and Gara would have caused the same awe as now the names of the terrorists. However, the last three were just crooks and thieves, but Montigny was a particular bastard, even his soldiers feared.
That’s what I was Villon, as a true thief: not working, fed in the craft, the common Fund looks like, had a reputation. Well, in the criminal world, which is so delayed their freedom, due to familiarity with criminals respected no one’s touched him.
But, not for long music played, not long fraer danced. Because the fool, pierced. Rob monk-augustina, Francois again was forced to flee from Paris, because this time too many sins for him accumulated. He wrote beautifully, but the people did not forget to plunder. And here, caught him, hastily sentenced to be hanged, and thrown into prison. Being in a state of highly nervous excitement turns into despair, he wrote one of the most famous of his ballads — «the Will.»
I know that the aristocrat and the tramp,
— Father and a drunkard poet,
The fool and the sage that hath good,
And eternal truths tranquil light,
And dandy, like a doll dressed up,
And ladies — no more beautiful, believe me,
— Be a valuable the pearl or not,
— None of them would escape death.
Whether Paris Ile delicate Elena,
But each, as expected, will die.
Breath will weaken vspuhnu of Vienna
And bile, razlicici, to heart will flow,
And will make an unbearable sweat.
The wife will be gone, and dear brother cast,
— Nobody will help, nobody will take
— Braids, which do not need mowing.
— Beveled and are whiter than chalk,
— The nose is long pointed as a needle,
— Swollen neck, and body softened.
— Beautiful, delicate, pure, bright,
— You’re in the lobby and contentment lived a century,
— Tell me, is your an awful lot
— To feed a worms, to rot down?
— Yes, or live to go, melt into the sky.However, Villon prosperous times, when stealing is not accounted for. Just his poetry was highly valued by the rich and sophisticated poetry person, like Prince Charles of Orleans, one of the greatest poets of France at the time. For a long time he even lived at his court in Blois. And often, they pulled out a sucker for adventure and trouble ass Villon from the clutches of the executioner.
However, Villon too often sentenced to death (the exact number is not known), so there is no backers will not help. But saved natural luck. For example, in 1461 Villon was in prison in Meung-on-Loire, however, the new king Louis XI, heading for the coronation, passed by the Maine, to celebrate what poet, among other prisoners had been pardoned. In the summer of 1460 the maid of Orleans Villon in prison waiting for execution, which escaped only by accident: Orleans visited the family of the Duke, and in honor of the entry of the three-year Princess Mary in his hereditary possession of the prisoners, according to custom, was to be released from jail. Was a tradition among the French nobility to dismiss retsedivistov in honor of memorable dates. It was much cheaper than to build churches, and plus, this is the best chance to show their generosity to the masses.Only here, friendship with the powers that he is not particularly valued, and constantly mocked over the top in his verse. There were several reasons, and perhaps most importantly — an innate sense of justice (which at that time nowhere in the world was not), and their own independence. Proud was, he was easier to steal and get (even more romantic) than to live dependent on someone would not.
Generally Villon was a highly complex person. Possessing a terrific sense of irony, he did not hesitate to make fun of not only friends but also enemies. In ballads it is clear. And for some reason, he loved to sneer about women, whether from the resentment, either because too good knew them. Did not touch only the mother, for the Holy.
— Look sad — what’s it like?
— Sewed nose, toothless mouth,
— Cracked, hanging skin,
— Hang down the chest to the abdomen.
— Look tearful haze gives
— That tuft of hair growing from the ear.
— The most ridiculous death at the gate
— And you’re still with mirror, old woman.
— Squatting fools,
Old all in the evening
We will rescodes like chickens,
One, no one sees us
— All boast, at that time,
— When, who and how to appeal.
— And the light went out long ago —
— To night oil is not enough.Traces of lost Villon in 1463, after another scrape. He became a member of street fights, during which he was seriously wounded papal notary, and again went to jail. And although he apparently did not cause anyone any injury, bad reputation, firmly established for him, has played a role: Villon was tortured and sentenced to death by hanging. He filed a petition for clemency. Languishing in anticipation of almost inevitable death, the poet wrote the famous «Ballad of the hanged».
So we hang a sad succession,
— Crow Above us mocks pack,
— Dead Flesh apart tearing,
— Tearing of beards, drink the pus from our eyes…
Do not laugh, looking at the hanging,
— And pray to God for us!But the evidence was a bit lucky Villon escaped death. However, «taking into consideration bad life pardoned Villon», the sentence was commuted to ten years banishment from Paris and its environs. This is the last documentary mention of it. He died not later than 1491, when he published the first edition of his works. This edition, ironically, made him famous. It is believed that he did not die a natural death, but to prove it, as usual impossible.
He was spoken of as the first poet of France, who lived in heaven and on earth and who was able to poetically reflect on their existence. On the works of françois Villon talking 25 years after the exile, in 1489. Then came the first collection of his poems, and the poet declared the first lyricist of France. All poems are autobiographical, and there he talks about his sins and mocks the enemies, open the soul, and cries of injustice. A real singer, he would «Oh, party!», but people perceived him as a humorist, satirist. On the one hand, due to this he became a legend, but on the other not everyone noticed the philosophical touch in his works. The popular «Ballad poetry competitions in Blois» was written in the comic competition, but when reading anything humorous is not noticed. Laugh at?
— Die from thirst over a stream.
— Laughing through tears and work playing.
Wherever we go, it’s my house,
— A foreign land to me my native land.He lived in constant expectation of death, he has created many works with titles «Epitaph», «Will». But only if the names a little funny, in the text of all irony. It has to hear the irony, which then you will notice many poets, ranging from molière and ending with Mayakovsky. In his works something and Esenin «Moscow tavern» is all about self — destruction.
He had not lied, laughed at our fate, which threw him from the gallows in vagrancy. And as such was full, the French consider him the French poet of his country. And here you understand — a real singer, they have also folk singers, and every song I confess, and complain about the arbitrariness and lawlessness of the authorities. Only Villon it turned out very elegant. Because his love is not for the marginality of the image, in the end, I don’t care what he was — a cunning scoundrel, dreaming up an alibi in the poetry or unhappy, disappointed, melancholic. His love for poetry, very beautiful.
By the way, Villon also there are verses in the jargon of France of the XV century, but they had not been properly translated, as in the XVI century, the language was incomprehensible. But, probably, as well.
The ballad will
I know many will;
I know where the back door;
I know who dressed as;
— I know how dangerous;
I know where the ravine property;
— I know, frequent thunderstorms in may;
I know where the raining where the clear;
I know everything themselves not knowing.
I know I have all the answers;
I know where is black, where the red;
— I know where for lunch.
I know, we’re lying every hour;
— I know, predatory wolves;
I know complaints are vain;
I know everything themselves not knowing.
— I know there were long years;
I know people unsuited;
I know who is rich, who is not;
I know whose skin is satin;
— I know, stupid, who loves passionately;
I know greed has no edges;
I know pundits are unhappy;
I know everything themselves not knowing.
— I know, Prince, that life is horrible;
I know that on earth there is no heaven;
— I know death over every power;
I know everything themselves not knowing.