Hurtado de Mendoza and the Introduction of the Burlesque Sonnet into Spain

Iñigo López Mendoza, Marqués de Santillana (1398–1458), was the first Spanish poet to try his hand at the sonnet, with his forty-two "sonetos fechos al itálico modo" (sonnets in the Italian way). This man of arms and letters at the court of Juan II was familiar with the poetry of Dante and other dolce stil nuovo poets, as well as with Petrarch. The former were his models for the love sonnets he wrote along with others on political and religious topics. However, Santillana's sonnets appear clumsy and unsophisticated alongside the Galician-Portuguese and cancionero poetry being written at the time. The poet's lack of followers perhaps best reflects the prematureness, as well as the quality of his sonnets. His abortive attempt to adopt Italianate verse was soon forgotten, and he left no immediate perpetuators.

The new Italianate literary forms were definitively imported into Spain by Juan Boscán and Garcilaso de la Vega during the second quarter of the sixteenth century. These poets were followed several decades later (in the 1560s and 1570s) by an enthusiastic group we know and are accustomed to anthologizing as Spain's Renaissance poets: Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, Gutierre de Cetina, Hernando de Acuña, Francisco de la Torre, Francisco de Figueroa, Francisco de Aldana, Fernando de Herrera, and Fray Luis de León, among many others. What is perhaps less well known is the fact that not all of these poets restricted themselves to the classical and Petrarchan models, but

often wandered into burlesque territory. It is not surprising to discover that their model here was Francesco Berni.

Luis Barahona de Soto, a poet immortalized by his close contemporary Cervantes in Don Quixote, has explained Berni's role in Spanish letters.^[1] In an epistle criticizing satirical poets ("A los acentos roncos de mi canto") addressed to his great friend and fellow poet Gregorio Silvestre, Barahona accuses Berni of reintroducing nothing less than burlesque, satire, and "juegos del Priapo" (priapic games) into literature:

     Mas ya perdido este uso, se rehizo
Por un no sé qué Bernia italiano,
De donde fué en España advenedizo.
     Del vándalo andaluz y castellano
Fué recebido con aplauso y pompa,
Y aun muchos le trataron como á hermano.
     A cuál enseña á resonar la trompa
Del ave venenosa que, en picando,
Es necesario que su vida rompa;
     A cuál hace también, contrapunteando,
Gustar de un inferior regüeldo tanto,
Que casi se va en otro transformando.^[2]

     [This custom, once lost, was brought back
By a certain Italian Berni,
Whence it became an upstart in Spain.
     It was received by the Andalusian and
Castilian vandals with applause and pomp,
And many even treated it as a brother.
     It teaches some to sound the beak
Of the poisonous bird that
in order to bite, gives up its life.
     It teaches others to sing in counterpoint,
And to enjoy an evil belch so much
That they are almost transformed into another one.]

In spite of Barahona's tone of injured sensibilities, it was his own admiring colleague and fellow resident of Granada, Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, who was the first Spaniard to exploit Bernesque verse. Since he lived in Italy during the culmination of its Renaissance, he was in a perfect position to do so.^[3] A statesman and diplomat, erudite humanist, and man of letters, Men-

doza maintained close relations with Italy's powerful princes, men of the cloth, and literati. He also developed a close relationship with Berni's old archenemy, Pietro Aretino. Aretino's Venetian mansion was an important gathering place for contemporary personalities, artists, and writers. Mendoza was among these habitués, along with other high-placed Spaniards. Therefore, he was in intimate contact with a major part of Italy's cultural aristocracy.

In Diego Hurtado de Mendoza we have the third Spaniard, with whom we are familiar, after Boscán and Garcilaso to adopt the Italianate verse forms in Castilian. We also have a man totally imbued with classical Greco-Latin as well as contemporary Italian literature. Among his reading matter were the poetic anthologies so ubiquitous in Italy at the time. And, finally, a personal friendship linked him to Italy's most vitriolic pen. Mendoza reflects in both his life and poetry the absorbtion of Italian culture into Spain which so colored Spanish letters during the Renaissance. These circumstances meet and are reflected in the poetry he chose to write.

The first edition published of Mendoza's lyric verse is the ninety-six-poem Obras del insigne cavallero Don Diego de Mendoza .^[4] Unfortunately, misplaced prudery (or more likely concern for his own reputation) lead the compiler, Frey Hidalgo, to censure the edition, saying in his prologue "Al lector":

[Mendoza] fue Platonico en sus amores : Filosofo en las sentencias : Poeta en las inuenciones : y finalmente, puro, y limpio en su lenguaje. En sus obras de burlas (que por dignos respetos aquí no se ponen) mostró tener agudeza y donayre, siendo satirico sin infamia agena, mezclando lo dulce con lo prouechoso. La zahahoria, cana, pulga, y otras cosas burlescas, que por su gusto, o por el de sus amigos compuso, por no contrauenir á la gravedad de tan insigne Poeta, no se dan á la estampa : y por esto, que ya por no ser tan comunes, seran mas estimadas de quien las tenga, y las conozca.

[Mendoza was Platonic in his loves, a philosopher in his reasoning, a poet in his creations, and finally, pure and honest in his language. In his burlesque works—which out of respect are not included here—he showed grace and wit, being satirical without defaming others, mixing the sweet with the beneficial. The carrot, gray hair, flea, and other burlesque things that he composed for his own plea-

sure or that of his friends, are not published so as not to contravene the gravity of such a distinguished poet. Therefore, since they will be less accessible, these works will be even more esteemed by those who have and know them.]

The slightly ambiguous final words of this self-styled arbiter of public decency leads us to suppose that Mendoza's racier poems probably were among the most "estimados." Frey Hidalgo's perhaps unintentional irony would seem to evoke a public just as avid for burlesque and satire as for love lyrics.

A more modern and complete edition is William I. Knapp's 170-poem Obras poéticas de don Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, subtitled "Primera edición completa" (Madrid: Ginesta, 1877). Although not, in fact, complete, and with textual and attribution errors, it remains the best edition available to date.

In 1914 Raymond Foulché-Delbosc published nine additional poems, extracted from manuscript Esp. 311 of the Bibliothèque Nationale de Paris.^[5] Five of these compositions are burlesque sonnets. One of them—"Fue maestro de esgrima Campuçano"—is a different version of Cervantes's "Soneto a un ermitaño" (Appendix 34). Both poems are far superior to Mendoza's burlesque sonnets. They differ markedly in style, tone, and subject matter from the type of sonnet the earlier poet composed. The subtle irony and humor that characterize the sonnet, combined with the ruffianesque subject matter, are absent from Mendoza's poetry. However, they are indispensible characteristics of Cervantes's burlesque sonnets independent of Don Quixote . "A un ermitaño" clearly issued from Cervantes's pen, thus it is highly unlikely that the version included in the Foulché-Delbosc manuscript was composed by Mendoza.

Mendoza's burlesque cancionero is relatively extensive and merits examination as the first adaptation of the genre to the Castilian language. The sonnets fall into several groups, each representing a well-established type of comicity: erotic, anti-Petrarchan, debasing of classical mythology, praising of material life, and facetious narratives. A salacious spirit underlies practically all of his burlesque works.

Mendoza especially delights in poking fun at or remonstrating against mythological gods, especially those associated with

love. The sonnets are often narrated by a battle-weary lover who wants to be left in peace and free from Cupid's arrows, as in "¡Quien de tantos burdeles ha escapado" (Appendix 21). This poem's tone is typically vulgar and full of mock anger. The explosion of words such as "incordio" and "escupido" immediately jars the sensitive ears of the reader or listener accustomed to the dulcet tones of a sonnet by, for example, Garcilaso. The reader is, in fact, "burlado" and becomes the butt of Mendoza's poetic practical joke. And Cupid, so often exalted in the Petrarchan tradition, is reduced to a ridiculous "rapaz tiñoso" (scabby urchin) who risks having his wings clipped if he persists in his job.^[6] In another sonnet the same god is called "rapaz vellaco" (young scoundrel) and "Hi de puta traydor" (treacherous son of a bitch).^[7] The narrator rages against Cupid's insistence, concluding:

Si de vos no se saca otto interesse,
cagaos en vuestras flechas de oro fino,
que en fin acá sin vos vivir sabremos.

[If nothing more is to be gained from you,
you may shit on your arrows of pure gold,
for we can manage without you down here.]

The goddesses are treated with even less respect; their common denominator is lasciviousness. In sonnet X, Venus is accused as a lustful and Celestinesque fornicator:

¡Oh Venus, alcahueta y hechicera,
Que nos traes embaucados tierra y cielo,
Cuántas veces, por falta de una estera,
Heciste monipodios en el suelo!^[8]

[Oh Venus, procuress and witch,
Who tricks us on earth and in Heaven,
How many times, for lack of a mat,
Have you spread your legs on the ground!]

Diana, goddess of the moon and of hunting, is another favorite target. Also compulsively "cachonda" (see sonnet XI),^[9] in sonnet III (Appendix 22) she is irreverently accused of hypocrisy to boot. The crudeness of the language used in these sonnets (we

need go no farther than expressions such as "meterle mano") is shocking because it is out of place. Nevertheless, this does not mean that it is not funny. The comicity arises precisely from the parody. If a highly serious poetic tradition did not loom behind these burlesque poems, they would simply be obscenity. It must be recognized, however, that they are not gratuitously obscene, but instead respond to and mock a classical tradition and canon. The tradition can stand the ribbing.

Both sonnet XII (Appendix 23) and sonnet XIII (Appendix 24)^[10] belong to the type of burlesque sonnet designated here as "facetious narrative"; although in verse, they are very similar to the short, witty, often ribald, anecdotal stories known as "facetiae." In Mendoza, of course, these little verse narratives turn on a risqué joke. Both poems flow jauntily through the first eleven verses to the punch line contained in the final tercet. These poems are also good examples of what comic erotic poetry should be.

First, they are well constructed. Sonnet XIII especially builds up the suspense through the growing intensity of the praying man's devotion. In this way the old woman's saucy riposte, coming as it does in the strongest position of the sonnet—the last line—is a true comic explosion. Sonnet XII is constructed around a brief exchange of piropos in which a brash, flirtatious dama meets her match in a quick-witted galán . It also finishes neatly on the most playful verse.

Next, Mendoza's artistry in both of these sonnets lies in his use of witty euphemisms. Crude expressions, whether sexual or scatological, produce an entirely different effect. They are designed to shock and to recall the material side of life. As seen in "Señora, la del arco y las saetas," they deflate sublime verse by association and directly parody it. In poems such as sonnets XII and XIII, however, the comicity lies in their cleverness, in their way of communicating a perfectly understandable message couched in ingenious terms. Because of the poet's display of ingenio, the shock becomes amusement and the reader chuckles at, and should not be offended by, the galán 's witticism and the old woman's quip.

The theme of "live today," or "carpe diem," is very dear, in a special sense, to burlesque verse. It has been present through-

out the Italian burlesque sonneteers from Cecco to Berni. Rather than being a philosophical meditation, however, the notion is given the most earthly interpretation possible in order to mock the poetic commonplace. Mendoza does not neglect this call to the gratification of physical instincts. He welcomes life's material pleasures with open arms, as in sonnet VII.^[11] In this poem he urges his friend Demócrates (notably named after the Greek philosopher who recommended moderation as the key to happiness in life) to drink and be merry while they can:

Demócrates, deléitate y bebamos,
Que para siempre no hemos de durar,
Ni puede para siempre nadie estar
En esta vida en que agora holgamos.

[Democrates, drink up and be merry,
For we shall not last forever,
Nor can anyone forever remain
In this life that we now enjoy.]

As seen previously in Cecco's sonnets, Goliardic praise of wine continues to resonate throughout burlesque verse.

In "Teneys, señora Aldonza, tres treynta años" (Appendix 25) Mendoza takes up the anti-Petrarchan theme of the crone. After duly noting sparse hair, an empty mouth, sagging breasts, and wrinkles, the only images that strike us as novel are her "pechos de zigarra" and goatish spine. However, these images are not new, and the sonnet has a classical source. A different version of it is cited by Juan de Mal Lara in his 1568 Filosofía vulgar to illustrate the proverb "a falta de moza, buena es Aldonza."^[12] As Mal Lara points out, the sonnet is a recreation of Martial's epigram on an old woman named Vetustilla (Book III, 93). Although Mendoza's version of the poem adds nothing new, it deserves mention as the first known Spanish contribution to the well-established sonnet tradition of the description of ugly old hags. As noted earlier, the comicity of this tradition lies in the hideous disfigurement of Petrarchism's idealized youthful feminine beauty.

Mendoza's "Consejos de Don Diego" (Appendix 26) is a violent and cynical exhortation from father to son to take advan-

tage of as many women as possible. God forbid that he should foolishly fall in love and marry when he can defame and burlar instead. Don Diego's words foreshadow those of Tirso's Don Juan, who also derived the greatest pleasure not from seduction but from deceit.

This long, tailed sonnet is replete with obscene elements: the son's "alhajas" and the "sencillo y dos represas" are transparent euphemisms for his sexual organs; the derisive comment "Todas son unas en las partes bajas"—a crude play on the "de noche todos los gatos son pardos" (everything is permissible at night) proverb—is filled with sexist (albeit feigned) scorn. This poem's sin lies not in its vulgarity, however, but in its failure as a sonnet. Rather than being a neat and concise statement of its theme, it rambles repetitively on, idly overflowing the boundaries of the sonnet form. Instead of building to a crescendo and final recapitulation (as occurs, for example, in Berni's tailed sonnets), here the eight additional codas simply lope along aimlessly. When its lack of linguistic imagination is added to this formal weakness, what remains is a mediocre and ultimately forgettable poem.

This particular tailed sonnet resembles the capitolo in its familiar tone, mock praise, and length. At the time, both poetic genres were new to Spain and were undergoing a process of definition and adaptation. Mendoza's poem is symptomatic of this period of apprenticeship as he vacillates between the two favored burlesque forms.

The Italian capitolo has historically been somewhat of a catchall poetic form. Originally derived from Dante's tercets (in the fifteenth century the Divine Comedy and Petrarch's Trionfi were divided into capitoli, not cantos), the term "capitolo " was later used to designate compositions in terza rima on a variety of themes from politics to love.^[13] This vague, imprecise form was given a definitively burlesque content by Francesco Berni when his capitoli giocosi began to flourish in sixteenth-century Tuscany.

Widely popularized in the cinquecento, the capitolo was the appropriate genre for mock encomiums of ridiculous things, more often than not with obscene second meanings. The mock encomium belongs to the adoxographic tradition established early in classical times. Arthur Stanley Pease has defined adox-

ography as "a curiously miscultivated portion [of the field of the laudatio ] . . . in which the legitimate methods of the encomium are applied to persons or objects in themselves obviously unworthy of praise, as being trivial, ugly, useless, ridiculous, dangerous, or vicious."^[14] The type was cultivated by the sophists as a rhetorical exercise that afforded them ample opportunity for both novelty and self-display. Objects of their praise were physical traits or defects such as baldness; diseases such as the quartan fever, gout, and blindness; sins such as adultery; various animals, especially the equine species; annoying insects such as fleas, lice, and bedbugs; and food and drink.^[15]

Adoxographic literature was subsequently consecrated in the Renaissance by Erasmus and his brilliant satire Praise of Folly . Following this legitimization, adoxography converges with the capitolo and the sonnet in the poetry of Berni and his followers. Both poetic compositions often share the themes mentioned above. Both also involved the use of a "refined" form to express "low" content. Despite these similarities, however, the better sonnets did not lose sight of the exigencies of their own genre: one main theme or materia, stated in the first quatrain, developed throughout the second quatrain and following tercets and tails in an ascending rhythm, usually leading to a recapitulation in the final tercet or tail. No matter what the length of the sonnet, this basic structure remained. A good sonnet had to be concise and totally free of extraneous words or elements.^[16] The capitolo, in contrast, has a much less rigid structure. It is always a long composition whose thematic introduction often stretches over several tercets. Each tercet contains a discrete idea, giving a different perspective on the theme or developing it further. An expanding rather than crescendo rhythm is normally felt. Also, more often than not the final quatrain (an additional verse is usually added to the last tercet) lacks any thematic recapitulation or concluding statement. One way to perceive the differences is by comparison to prose genres: the sonnet is to the capitolo what the short story is to the novel. A good sonnet is a circular, closed structure with no superfluous elements. A capitolo is open and admits elements not essential to the basic theme.^[17]

The burlesque capitolo will enjoy scant success among sub-

sequent Spanish poets. It will soon disappear for all intents and purposes as a genre, and the sonnet will continue to be the preferred Italianate form for burlesque verse. The longer terza rima composition will be reserved for the elegy, the epistle, and for satire, and culminate in such magnificent works as Fernández de Andrada's "Epístola moral a Fabio," Lope's autobiographical epistles, Quevedo's "Epístola satírica y censoria," and, of course, Cervantes's Viaje del Parnaso .

Several burlesque capitoli have been attributed to Mendoza, however: the "Elegía de la pulga," "En loor del cuerno," and "Sobre la zanahoria."^[18] As is obvious from their titles, the last two compositions are obscene. The first is an imitation of Ludovico Dolce's "Capitolo del Pulice," included in the Rime diverse di molti eccelentissimi auttori nuovamente raccolte. Libro Primo .^[19] It is most likely that Mendoza was well acquainted with this famous Venetian poet. The author himself admits in the second tercet that the poem is his, "No toda de invención, mas traducida / De cierta Veneciana fantasía [Not all of my own invention, but translated / from a certain Venetian fantasy]." He goes on in the next tercet to reveal what the Spanish poets' procedure was in imitating their models, explaining that his poem "Va, mutatis mutandis, añadida; / Porque la traducción muy limitada / Suele ser enfadosa y desabrida [It is supplemented, mutatis mutandis, / because very close translations / are usually annoying and insipid]."^[20]

His nonchalant words are more enlightening than they would appear at first reading. They reveal a negative attitude toward servile imitation that will lead the later Spanish poets to far surpass their Italian models. Indeed, a steady improvement can be appreciated among Spain's Renaissance and Baroque burlesque poets, exactly at the moment when the burlesque genres enter into a period of decadence and decline in Italy. In fact, what is the end of a trajectory in Italy, with Bernesque verse, is the beginning of a renewed impulse that would thrive in late-sixteenth- to early-seventeenth-century Spain. Berni and his followers, while often excellent poets and the true originators of the mature burlesque sonnet, never attained the perfection of a Góngora or a Quevedo nor the intellectual depth of a Cervantes.

Mendoza brings to Spanish soil the insolence and the violence that had largely characterized the Italian burlesque tradition since the fourteenth century. His burlesque sonnets and capitoli are the first extant attempts made in the genre in Spanish. Because of this, his comic poems are for the most part somewhat primitive and derivative of Bernesque verse. While they compare favorably to his love poetry, in which he quite slavishly follows the Petrarchan tradition, they are inferior to his poetry written in Castilian meters. This notwithstanding, his work is important in representing the direct, observable link between the Italian and the Spanish burlesque sonnet and in providing a starting point from which to follow the development of the genre in succeeding generations.