Literature

For many of us, the bawdy stories of Giovanni Boccaccio’s The Decameron provided a welcome distraction from the stress of Spring midterms. It's been on and off the Lit Hum syllabus throughout the decades but now suddenly, as we all hole up in our homes and distance ourselves from most of our human connections, this set of 14th-century tales shared by friends in plague-ridden Florence has taken on a peculiar new relevance.

What can The Decameron teach us about surviving apart?  What role do stories have in creating and maintaining connections in good times and bad?

The camaraderie the brigata found in their villa, sharing space and stories, seems an apt metaphor for the experience of the Columbia Core: as we sought meaning in shared texts, we became a community, shaped by the experience of learning and thinking together. Now, as we spend time apart, how can those stories, those connections, continue to sustain us?  

As the men and women of The Decameron did, we seek out stories that are both amusing and profound - texts that offer comfort and distraction.  We fortify ourselves with tales of hope and lose ourselves in other worlds. What stories - books, poems, films, television - do you find yourself coming back to in these strange times?

Hopefully, this memorable story, attached below, from The Decameron can transport you to happier times of reading and laughing together.

THE DECAMERON: THIRD DAY, TENTH STORY

Alibech becomes a recluse, and after being taught by the monk, Rustico, to put the devil back in Hell, she is eventually taken away to become the wife of Neebal.

Dioneo had been following the queen’s story closely, and on perceiving
that it was finished, knowing that he was the only speaker left, he smiled and
began without waiting to be bidden: