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The Spanish Golden Age - El Siglo de Oro
Theater and poetry are such an important part of Spanish cultural life of the 17th century.
Please do a little research about the life of Francisco de Quevedo (left), read the sonnet and find out who it is written for:
To a man of great nose
To a man of great nose
Once there was a man stuck to a nose,
it was a nose more marvelous than weird,
it was a nearly living web of tubes,
it was a swordfish with an awful beard,
it was a sundial doomed to face the shade,
an elephant that looked up to the sky,
it was a nose of hangman and of scribe,
Ovidius Naso nostriled all awry,
it was the bowsprit of a mighty ship,
like Egypt's pyramid it pierced the sky,
it was of noses all of the twelve tribes;
it was in noseness truly infinite,
an awful lot of nose, a nose so fierce
that on Annas's face would be a crime.
Casa de Lope de Vega
Please visit the Casa Lope de Vega and write a short essay answering the questions on Blackboard. You need to make a reservation in advance. There are guided tours in Spanish and English.
Make sure you understand the influence of Muslim heritage on the house as well as the influence of the court on Madrid in the 17th century.
All the information is here: https://casamuseolopedevega.org/es/
Siglo de Oro - Golden Age.pptPlease watch this video about the Spanish Golden Age. In class, we will read this piece:
La Vida es Sueño de Calderón de la Barca
We live, while we see the sun,
Where life and dreams are as one;
And living has taught me this,
Man dreams the life that is his,
Until his living is done.
The king dreams he is king, and he lives
In the deceit of a king,
Commanding and governing;
And all the praise he receives
Is written in wind, and leaves
A little dust on the way
When death ends all with a breath.
Where then is the gain of a throne,
That shall perish and not be known
In the other dream that is death?
Dreams the rich man of riches and fears,
The fears that his riches breed;
The poor man dreams of his need,
And all his sorrows and tears;
Dreams he that prospers with years,
Dreams he that feigns and foregoes,
Dreams he that rails on his foes;
And in all the world, I see,
Man dreams whatever he be,
And his own dream no man knows.
And I too dream and behold,
I dream I am bound with chains,
And I dreamed that these present pains
Were fortunate ways of old.
What is life? a tale that is told;
What is life? a frenzy extreme,
A shadow of things that seem;
And the greatest good is but small,
That all life is a dream to all,
And that dreams themselves are a dream.
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