The Dream Report as a Literary Device in Medieval Hispanic Literature

Author(s): Harriet Goldberg

Source: Hispania, Vol. 66, No. 1 (Mar., 1983), pp. 21-31
Published by: American Association of Teachers of Spanish and Portuguese
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/341204
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 THE DREAM REPORTAS A LITERARYDEVICE
IN MEDIEVALHISPANIC LITERATURE
HARRIET GOLDBERG
Villanova University
A LTHOUGH interesting work has been
2done on the topic of the dream in
medieval English, French, and Old Norse
literature, relatively few Hispanists have
dealt with dreams in any period at all.' It
is my intention to examine the circumstan-
tial setting of dream narratives in medieval
Hispanic texts in order to show that literary
dreams served as extensions of reality in a
body of literature whose normal contours
were limited with respect to portrayals of
individualized reality. Landscapes, people,
and animals were presented as ideas of
themselves and not as individuals.2 For
this reason, medieval Hispanic authors
tended to put dreams, which were in them-
selves individualized narratives, in realistic
settings to make them credible. Without
their association with familiar daily experi-
ences-disrobing, falling asleep, awaken-
ing frightened, relating the dream to a
friend-, these vividly visual representa-
tions might not have been acceptable to a
reading public accustomed to a non-visual
idealized style. To a great extent dreams
were validated in the reporting. While we
can identify various literary purposes which
dreams served, e.g., a pretext for the in-
clusion of fantastic material, an explana-
tion for the appearance of the spirits of
the dead (who were often gifted with the
power of prophecy), we are able to general-
ize an overall function: incorporating this
material into a portrayal of reality.
A brief glance at the wide variety of
dream situations enables us to dismiss the
notion that dreams were a mere literary
convention or topic. We can find no single
metaphor for which the act of dreaming
might stand. John F. Priest, writing of
dreams in classical literature and in the
ancient Near East, goes to the heart of the
matter: "In either case it is tacitly assumed
that the function of the dream is to estab-
lish a contact between the noumenal and
phenomenal world of sense experience."3
This contact, expressed in human daily ex-
perience as a story to be recalled and re-
lated, was used by medieval authors ac-
cording to C. B. Hieatt in several ways:
21
"The dream... may be an excuse for the
inclusion of didactic material or for cut-
ting short an episode. But it also seems
frequently to be used as a unifying device,
tying together seemingly unrelated material
by means of the sort of association and
transformation typical of dreams" (p. 11).
If we think of the Razon de amor and the
Denuestos del agua y el vino as a unified
poem then the factor which links the two
parts of the poem is the kind of association
and transformation of which Hieatt writes.
The water and the wine of the poet's first
thoughts reappear in a later dream scene as
the cranky participants in the Denuestos.4
Berceo made extensive use of dream
visions for didactic purposes.5 In the Vida
de Santo Domingo, the saintly man tells
his fellow monks of a dream of future
glory. He pledges them to secrecy for fear
that the recounting of such a dream might
have been a vainglorious act (st. 244). Nev-
ertheless, the contents of the dream become
the text for a lesson (sts. 245-46). The read-
er is assured that Santa Oria's dreams are
not recounted for personal glory: "Por
estas visiones la reclusa Don Oria / Non
dio en si entrada a nulla vanagloria" (st.
111); she relates them for the instruction of
others. The emperor Darius tells his troops
that he had been reluctant to tell his dreams
before: "que ninguno non dexies que que-
rie baffar" (st. 951).6 Although Berceo
tells us that Oria's reluctance to tell her
dreams reflected her fear of vainglory,
might we not identify also another realistic
circumstantial detail, i.e. a shyness about
revealing a dream to another? Antonio
Vilanova mentions another kind of didac-
ticism in which the lesson is an inherent
part of the dream content. Writing about
the numerous visions in which a departed
spirit appears to the sleeper, he suggests
that they serve "para plantear el problema
de la inmortalidad y de la otra vida" (p.
126).7
On a structural level, dreams were em-
ployed to make transitions from one scene
to another or to connect episodes distant
in time within a long narrative. They
22 Harriet Goldberg
bridged the present moment in which the
dreamer told his dream, remembering the
past when he dreamt, and frequently re-
vealed the future in the form of predic-
tions. In Amadis de Gaula, two moments
are linked when Amadis awakens fright-
ened and anxious to share his dream with
the learned hermit at whose feet he has
been sleeping. The hermit acknowledges his
distress but tells him that they have no time
for the telling of dreams. Much later, on
the Peia Pobre, Amadis recalls the dream
and recounts it to the hermit asking for an
interpretation. Incidentally, he omits the
names of the women in the dream (Mabilia
and the donzella de Denamarcha), a reflec-
tion of a human tendency to censor dream
reports.8 The reader's pleasure is twofold:
he remembers the initial mention of the
dream with its puzzling details and then he
enjoys the cleverness of the interpretation.
His satisfaction with the neat resolution
of an enigma is accompanied by relief
when he learns that Amadis will regain his
happiness.
Another example of a dream used to
create and maintain suspense in a long
narrative is the Emperor's dream in the
Gran conquista de Ultramar where the
Swan Knight interprets an enigmatic dream
to a skeptical Emperor: "Cuando esto
hobo dicho el caballero del Cisne, plugo
al Emperador mucho, pero no se asegur6
en su corazon que este sueno sin peligro de
Galieno fuese."9 Since the reader is con-
vinced that the Swan Knight is right, he
is anxious that the Emperor believe him.
Herman Braet, writing about premonitory
dreams in the French epic, describes the
tension experienced by the audience as a
climate of anguish (p. 103). The audience
is in a privileged position because of previ-
ously-gained knowledge or through their
own certainty that some kinds of dreams
are meaningful. Depending upon the skill
of the author, the audience may find it-
self being partisan. The listener/reader
wants the dreamer to believe the truth as
he sees it.
Sometimes the author led the reader
through the dream account twice, once dur-
ing the experience and then again in a
word-for-word repetition to a friend. To
make the repetition a normal part of a con-
versation, the hermit in the Caballero Zifar
begins his account to his guest: "Yo vos lo
Hispania 66 (March 1983)
dire."'? Although this kind of repetition
might seem to be a clumsy device, it is quite
possible that the author who used it was
displaying a psychological insight into the
real-life urgency some people feel about
telling their dreams to others. Corvalan's
dream (which he had misinterpreted) was
repeated to his mother, Queen Halabra,
and she explained to him what it truly
meant (Ultramar, ed. Gayangos, 224-25).
In the ballad of Dofia Alda, the dream's
misinterpretation recalls the dream itself.1
Without denying the structural useful-
ness of dream accounts, and while recog-
nizing their value in introducing didactic
material, it is my contention that it was in
order to accomplish these ends that these
tales were incorporated into dreams. The
dreams were then situated in a real life con-
text. It is in the act of relating the dream
to the reader or to another character that
the act of seeing becomes an event and
therefore a part of the narrative. Since
there is no question that the dreamer is
relating an event which he had experienced,
the contents of the dream gain the authen-
ticity of an eye-witness account. In this
regard Hieatt writes that dream poetry is
"an account of what the poet sees [her
italics] rather than what he hears or thinks"
(p. 18). The Marques de Santillana, in the
Infierno de los enamorados, assures the
reader that the account of his dream voy-
age will be accurate and unembellished:
"E recontar su manera es auto maravi-
lloso; que yo non pinto nin gloso silogis-
mos de [poetas] mas syguiendo lifias rretas
fablare non ynfintoso."'2 He thus reveals
the self-conscious nature of literary dream
accounts of which A. C. Spearing writes
when he points out that medieval authors
found it necessary to justify the use of
imaginative material which because of its
fantastic nature, was not a part of the
"self-justifying world of natural objects"
(p. 5). Thus medieval authors used dreams
to make credible their accounts of the un-
real, presenting them as the testimony of
someone who was relating without affecta-
tion ('non ynfintoso') what he had really
seen albeit in a dream. In this sense the
dream report was a travel narrative in
which the author repeated: "I was there.
I saw." while giving the details of his in-
terior voyage.
Judging from the frequency with which
 Dreams in Medieval Hispanic Literature 23

medieval authors made use of dream epi- revealed to the Prophet in a dream.
sodes, we can assume that they expected A caution is necessary, however. This
their audiences to share certain common familiarity did not indicate an unqualified
expectations in regard to these experiences. belief in the reliability of dream messages.
We can conjecture a popular familiarity Of eleven proverbs cited by Luis Martinez-
with Scriptural dreams (Cruden's Con- Kleiser, six warn specifically against believ-
cordance gives fifty-eight entries) through ing in dreams.'6 In a popular lyric, a
popular sermons. We may also assume that young girl admits ruefully to her mother
clerics used classical dream lore in sermons that her dream of happiness might be false
although the material was undoubtedly fil- because "los suefios suenos son."'7 In a
tered through patristic and scholastic ballad Count Grimaltos tells his wife that
sources. In fact the dream vision gained although we are not supposed to believe
authority from its connection with the past. in dreams, his had been a very real one.'8
As Hieatt points out: "The dream vision This expressed uncertainty about the re-
had a double authority: the assertion of liability of dream messages is in itself a
the poet that he really saw all this in a part of the realistic context in which dream
dream and the support of the writers and narratives are often set.
theologians both classical and Christian In pursuit of this context, we come upon
who had proclaimed the possibility of such another uncertainty experienced by the
a revelation" (p. 103). The texts examined dreamer. He wonders if he is awake or
for this study indicate that they gained asleep: "Non se sy uelaua nin se sy dor-
extra authority from having been placed in mia," writes Micer Francisco Imperial.19
everyday settings. This same confusion was often manifested
The erudite Marques de Santillana shows at the moment of awakening as well as at
his knowledge of classical sources when he the moment of dropping off to sleep. Mod-
has Queen Leonor of Portugal say that she ern psychologists recognize waking dreams
has read dream accounts in Valerius Maxi- as a parallel phenomenon to sleeping ones
mus, in Macrobius and in Guido (possibly and make therapeutic use of them ac-
Guido Guinicelli according to Duran's knowledging that these experiences are also
n. 401, p. 264). In the debate between the a link between the phenomena of which
Brain and the Heart (El sueio) he refers to Priest wrote (see n. 2 above).20 In addition
Valerius's account of Haterius Rufus's to these psychic uncertainties, there are a
dream in which the dreamer dies just as his number of other verisimilar circumstances
dream had foretold (p. 180). The Arch- which commonly surround the reporting of
priest of Talavera relied on the Decretals of dreams: the time and place of the sleep
Gratian and on Saint Augustine for sup- experience is given (including the prepara-
port of his ideas about dream fulfillment,'3 tions for sleep); the dreamer's emotional
and Fray Lope de Barrientos gave a rea- state and his physical condition are de-
soned explanation of the causes of sleep scribed. The author mentions either his
and of dreams, citing Solomon (a possible restless inability to fall asleep or his al-
reference to works like Holcot's Super most drugged surrender to sleep. As a way
Sapientam Salomonis [see n. 1 above]), of making important the contents of the
Plato, Aristotle, the Commentator (most dream, the sleep is termed either deep,
probably Averroes), Cicero, Valerius, St. sweet or magically prolonged. The dreamer
Augustine, Albertus Magnus, and St. awakens either startled, puzzled or fright-
Thomas.'4 We would also expect an aware- ened. Finally, he is eager to tell his dream
ness of Islamic dream lore in the Iberian to a companion who may or may not in-
peninsula. In fact, although knowledge of terpret it for him.
Artemidorus probably came through Before dealing with circumstantial set-
Macrobius, there were numerous Arabic tings, we must begin with a significant part
translations of the Oneirocritica. Fritz of a dream report, i.e. the choice of a term
Meier notes the existence in pre-Islamic to describe the experience. When a medie-
poetry of the topos of poetic or religious val Hispanic author begins a dream report
inspiration in dreams.15 Of course, the with certain expressions-"un suefiol'
importance of the dream in Islam is evident priso dulce tan bien se adurmio" (Poema
when it is remembered that the Koran was de mio Cid, v. 405); "uinole en uision quel
24 Harriet Goldberg
parauan delante una muger . .. et diziele
Sant Siluestre" (Primera cr6nica general,
195); "el monje San Pelayo de susol' fue
venido (Poema de Fernan Gonzalez, st.
402)-, he is signalling an externally stimu-
lated dream (see n. 14 above). On the other
hand, when he begins a report with certain
other dream formulae-"comenz6 a soniar
un muy extranio suenio" (Ultramar, p. 91)
and "Soiava que entravan" (Amadis,
Place ed. I, 18)-, he is indicating his in-
tention to present an enigmatic dream in
need of explanation, i.e. an internally
stimulated one. Martine Dulaey finds a
similar distinction in the language of dream
reporting in classical and early Christian
sources. Classical authors tended to use
uisus est mihi ('was seen by me') plus the
infinitive of the verb applied to the actions
of the dream figure for externally stimu-
lated dreams and uideo or uideor ('I see')
plus the direct object for the internally
provoked ones. The distinction persists in
early Christian sources with uisus est in
somnis ('was seen in dreams') plus infini-
tive and uideo or uideor with direct ob-
ject.2' St. Augustine differentiated among
three kinds of dreams: ostensio in which
the images were divinely shown to the
dreamer; phantasma in which the image
was constructed in the imagination without
correspondence to reality; and phantasia,
an image conserved in the dreamer's mem-
ory (pp. 89-93). Fray Lope de Barrientos
distinguishes between true visions and
fantasmas, making reference to the hymn
in which the phantasms of the night are to
be banished (Phantasmata noctis deci-
dant). He defines fantasmas as "opera-
ciones de la fantasia" (p. 64). The anony-
mous author of Ultramar differentiates
between sueio and vision cierta. A dream-
er's wife admonishes him: "Ca esto non
entendades que es sueno mas visi6n cierta
que vos Dios quiso mostrar" (BAE, 44,
p. 73). The consistent choice of terminol-
ogy serves to reveal to the audience the
kind of dream experience the author
chooses to present. Thus dream reports
were begun in such a way that they re-
flected contemporary insight into the
nature of dreaming, an insight shared by
the medieval author and his readership.
Among the Hispanic texts under study
here, we note a pattern in the Catalan
dream reports; they are all presented as
Hispania 66 (March 1983)
externally inspired dreams, beginning with
"li aparech" or "le vench la visi6 segient."
Oddly enough in Lo Somni, Tirant and
Curial all the dreams are clearly literary
inventions without a pretense of reality.
It occurs to me that the difference is not
regional but rather diachronic.22 A. C.
Spearing notes the relative infrequency of
twentieth-century dream reports in which
the dreamer is visited by an authority fig-
ure. He notes the socially conditioned na-
ture of these literary dream accounts saying
that they reflect the authoritarian culture
pattern of medieval society, a pattern that
might have waned gradually.23
Dreams of angelic visitations, structured
to arouse anticipation of future events in
the reader, are accompanied by the reas-
suring thought that the suspense will be
relieved when the prophecy is fulfilled.
Sometimes the prophetic dream creates an
additional mystery when the dream figure
actually appears in waking reality as in the
case of the child in the Caballero Zifar.24
This sort of appearance was a common-
place of battle prophecies (see King Ra-
miro, Primera cronica general, 360; Fer-
ndn Gonzdlez, 407 a).25
In contrast to the classical and early
Christian tradition, most medieval Hispan-
ic dream reports stated that the dreamer
had dreamt a dream or had begun to
dream. Enigmatic in nature, they appear to
have been the internally stimulated kind
provoked either by the events of the day or
by the worries of the sleeper (ex parte
anime).26We can generalize from the man-
ner in which a dream report begins. If it
starts with "uinole una vision," it was ex-
ternally inspired and falls into Augustine's
category of phantasma or ostensio. Those
which begin with "e comenzo a sofiar un
sueio" were internally inspired and belong
to Augustine's phantasia. These dreams
and their interpretations serve a structural
purpose different from prophetic dreams.
Often they link two distant moments in a
long narrative, after an interruption of
other events as in Amadis (II, 395 and later
412-13). The ingenuity of their interpreta-
tions delights the reader just as the resolu-
tion of a riddle or an enigma does. Many
readers would have been familiar with the
experience of a puzzling dream, perhaps
even more than with dreams of angelic
visitations.
 Dreams in Medieval Hispanic Literature
Continuing our investigation of the con-
textual setting of literary dream accounts,
we turn our attention to the mention of
the sleeper's location when he either falls
asleep or begins to dream. Usually he is
just where we expect him to be-reclining
in his bed,27but in three celebrated dreams
he has just stretched out in a lovely mead-
ow-Paris in the Cor6nica troyana, the
pilgrim, Berceo, in the Milagros de Nuestra
Seiora, and the poet-lover in the Razon de
amor.28 Fernian Gonzalez dozes during a
prayer vigi' in front of an altar (st. 407) and
Aycarte de Montemerle and his two com-
panions fall asleep standing up, leaning
against the wall of the Holy Sepulcher
after spending the night in prayer: "e vela-
ron toda la noche hasta los gallos primeros.
E entonces hobieron tan grand suefio, que
se adormescieron, pero no estaban echa-
dos, mas arrimados a una pared, ni dor-
mieron suenio asosegado, mas como quien
se traspone" (Ultramar, BAE, 44, p. 112).
The dream account which follows is veri-
fied by such details and by the reader's
having been informed that the event is
taking place on Holy Saturday. Of special
significance is the hour, since morning
dreams were thought to be spiritually re-
liable because the body had had sufficient
time to complete the digestive process
thereby freeing itself for the reception of
spiritual messages. Lope de Barrientos
writes that a reliable dream can be identi-
fied because "viene cerca de la maniana,
despues de celebrada la digestion, cuando
los vapores della estan ya delgados e sotiles
en tal manera que no empachan tanto a
las potencias de facer sus operaciones."29
Another dream account documented in
this fashion is the early morning dream of
a hermit who spends the night tossing and
turning until in the morning a dream comes
to him: "Despues de la primera, la hora
pasada, / En el mes de enero la noche
primera / Quatro;ientos veynt entrante la
era."30
Authors situated a dream experience in
time and in space and often informed the
reader about the dreamer's condition, both
physical and emotional. Obviously when he
is preparing for sleep, he is described as
tired.3' In keeping with an awareness of a
wider range of real-life situations, almost
as often he was said to have been anxious,
upset, preoccupied, and unable to sleep.32
25
The contents of the enigmatic dream is
anticipated by the dreamer's inability to
stop thinking about the events of the day
or of his problems, a clearly human phe-
nomenon recognizable to the audience.
Amadis was so distressed about the loss of
Oriana's love that he could not sleep:
"Estonces comi6, pero muy poco, que no
podia partir aquella grande angustia en que
estaua: y cuando fue hora de dormir,
el buen hombre se echo sobre su manto y
Amadis a sus pies, que en todo lo mas de la
noche no hizo, con la grand cuyta, sino
reboluerse y dar grandes sospiros; y ya
cansado y vencido del suefio adormeciose y
en aquel dormir sofaua .. ." (ed. Place,
ii, 395). The reader recognizes the realistic
circumstances and at the same time receives
the signal that the dream, enigmatic in
nature, will deal with the dreamer's con-
cerns. It is at this moment, after an anxious
night, that the dreamer reports that he
cannot tell where his waking state ended
and his sleeping/dreaming state began.33
The next realistic circumstance is the de-
scription of the nature or quality of the
sleep experience-profound, sweet, rest-
less, disturbed. Familiar to the individual
reader would be the impression that cer-
tain dreams take place during particularly
deep sweet sleep periods. Equally familiar
would be the memory of dreams experi-
enced during troubled restless sleep. Either
of these sensations were on the same level,
mere corrobatory touches to make credible
a dream account, but on another level,
they were used by medieval authors to con-
vey the idea of magic or enchantment.
Paris, describing a dream of divine origin,
says that he never before experienced such
a deep and enraptured sleep (Troyana,
97). Dofa Alda's ominous dream takes
place during a sleep that lasts three days
and nights (Moniino, Anvers, 1550, p. 182).
In fact, in a Judeo-Spanish version her
sleep is called evil.34
Perhaps the most frequently remem-
bered moment in the act of dreaming is
the awakening. The verb espertar/desper-
tar is the most usual, but we also find
recordar/acodarse and even entrar en su
memoria to describe the return to waking
reality. Fearful awakenings are common.
At times the dreamer cries out "dando
voces"35 and at times he is in need of com-
fort. Lope de Barrientos writes: "Otro si,
26 Harriet Goldberg
en el suefio verdadero, el que la suefia que-
da muy penoso e espantado de tal suenio;
de lo cual no acaesce cosa en sueio menti-
roso" (Tractado de suenos, p. 57).
Other awakenings are joyful and the
dreamer is portrayed in a state of exalta-
tion. Ruy Diaz crossed himself and com-
mended his soul to God (Poema de Mio
Cid, 410-12). Santo Domingo was affected
spiritually by his dream: "desperte e signe-
me con mi mano alCada / tenia, Dios lo
sabe, la voluntad cambiada."36 Santa Oria
was upset because she had not wanted her
dream to end, a common sensation after a
pleasant dream.37 Guelfa and the abbess,
within their dream, try to awaken and
cannot.38 They are strangely troubled upon
awakening and do not mention the dream
to each other.
In contrast to this unusual reticence,
another detail common to many dream
reports is the urgent need to relate the
dream to a companion. Countess Ida
apologizes for awakening her new husband
with her shouting, explaining that she just
had a nightmare. He comforts her with an
optimistic dream interpretation (Ultramar,
BAE, 44, pp. 91-92). Her dream is of a
familiar kind: a pregnant woman dreams
about the child in her womb.39 The domes-
tic scene in which a companion comforts
a frightened dreamer by explaining the
meaning of the experience, or by merely
listening to the account, must have inclined
the reader to accept the content of the
dream and its interpretation because of its
familiarity in everyday life.40
The more formal courtly kind of dream
reporting in which a ruler seeks the mean-
ing of his dreams was familiar to the read-
er. Accounts of this sort are frequently
modeled on the Scriptural dreams of the
Pharaoh, explained so cleverly by Joseph.
In fact, in the aljamiado version of the
poem that deals with Joseph's dream in-
terpretations, no circumstantial details are
given.4' Could it be that the situation car-
ried its own authority because of its
Scriptural origin? In Amadis, King Perion
consults with the wise men of his court
after a dream which frightened him (ed.
Place, i, 28). Upon his return home, he
relates his dream to his court. He hears
several explanations and finally Ungan el
Picardo offers him the true interpretation,
warning him that the dream prophecy
Hispania 66 (March 1983)
ought not be used to avoid his destiny.
It is only intended to prepare him to ac-
cept God's will: "Las cosas ordenadas y
permitidas de Dios . . . no las puede nin-
guno estoruar ni saber en que pararan"
(I, 27). The literary dynamics are complex.
The reader wants everything to turn out
well for King Perion, but he is puzzled as
to how it will be all right for the good king
to lose his two sons. It is this enigmatic
situation which maintains his interest and
his curiosity. Another fascinating aspect of
dream interpretation in literary texts is
their misinterpretation. Upon hearing
Dona Alda's dream and its subsequent
misinterpretation the audience finds itself
in the omniscient and privileged position
of which Herman Braet writes.42 The lis-
tener feels extra compassion for the poor
woman, knowing that her husband has
really been killed in battle. The Christian
reader of the Gran Conquista de Ultramar
would rejoice when Queen Halabra cor-
rects the false dream explanation of her
son Corvalan (Ultramar, 224). We are
struck by the lines of Howard Nemerov, a
twentieth-century poet-"As with a dream
interpreted by one still sleeping, / the in-
terpretation is only the next room of the
dream"43-when we follow Enrique de
Villena's narration of his dream which he
explains as he goes along.44 Does his
explanation stem from afterthoughts or
from his insights during the dream itself?
Double dreams, (i.e. the dreamer dreams
that he has awakened but continues to
dream a second episode) are almost like
dreams that carry within themselves their
own interpretation. Fernan Gonzalez is
frightened and thinks he is awake after
the image of the monk Pelayo has taken
leave of him. Thinking about the strange
appearance, he hears San Millan's voice
in what is only the second part of the
dream: "Estando en el suenno que sonnara
pensando / oyo vna gran[d] voz que le
estava llamando" (st. 411). The first part
of the dream contains the prophecy and
in the second part the dreamer receives
some specific instructions. Another ex-
ample of this kind of double dream is
found in the Caballero Zifar where the
hermit is told in the first part of the dream
what his guest's fate will be. In the second,
he is told to awaken his guest and tell him
of the dream.45 Constantine's double
 Dreams in Medieval Hispanic Literature
dream was separated by several hours so
that it offers an interesting variant of serial
dreams which are usually contiguous in
time (Primera cronica general, i, 182).
A phenomenon reported by dreamers
in these literary accounts is the carrying
over of the dream experience into waking
reality. Beatriz and the Swan Knight see a
great brightness fill the room after her
dream (Ultramar, BAE, 44, p. 53). Both
Ruy Diaz (Primera cronica general, 634)
and Alexander (Libro de Alexandre, 1158)
perceive a mysterious odor in the room
after a dream. Curial awakens thankful
that his servant has saved him from killing
someone in his dream (I, 108), and Hecuba
wakens not sure she has left her dream
peril behind: "non cuydava que era del
fuego escapada" (Libro de Alexandre,
349). To make her feigned dream more
credible, Plazerdemivida adds a corrobora-
tive detail: she claims to be mystified upon
finding concrete physical evidence of the
final event of her supposed dream upon
awakening (Tirante, ii, 399-400). Here,
too, it is evident that contemporary readers
would be aware of the limits of waking
reality and dream state at the end of a
dream as well as at its beginning.
The final realistic circumstance con-
nected with dream reporting concerns the
relating of a patently spurious dream. It is
clear that Plazerdemivida teasingly uses the
vehicle of a dream account to share public-
ly the salacious content of the scene she
has really witnessed, even admitting that
within the dream she spied by watching
through a doorway (Tirante, ii, 395). Also
in Tirante, the Empress invents the dream
appearance of her recently deceased son to
explain her taking young Hypolite into her
bed for an extended period (III, 257-60).
In a different spirit, the baker in the Poema
de Jose invents a dream to test Joseph's
powers (pp. 107-08). In the Disciplina
Clericalis, Ex. XIX, false dreams are used
to trick companions. Clearly the dream
account in the popular tradition was re-
garded some of the time as a way of fooling
others or of presenting imaginary material
in a credible manner, just as it was in the
erudite literary tradition.
E HAVE SEEN in this survey of the
presentation of dream reports in the
realistic context of everyday life a fairly
27
consistent pattern of usage. Medieval His-
panic authors tended to use these tales in
much the same way that they used travel
narratives. The moment of falling asleep
was the departure, and the awakening was
the return from the interior voyage. In
both kinds of accounts authors were able
to include fantastic material. In common
with returned travelers, a dreamer looked
around for someone with whom he might
share the experience. We have identified
at least two literary impulses in our pano-
ramic survey: (1) By testifying that the nar-
rator had really seen what he described,
the author was free to use visually oriented
descriptive techniques, thereby freeing
himself from the constraints of the more
usual style of idea-based portrayals of the
period. (2) He could make the fanciful,
symbolic and allegorical images he had
chosen to present for didactic or creative
purposes credible and real. This extension
of the real world, placed as it was in the
mundane everyday context of preparations
for sleep, falling asleep, awakening, and re-
lating the tale to another endowed the
whole account with a believability firmly
rooted in the audience's experiences. We
have also seen that the dream itself gained
credibility from the authority of the past
because both author and reader shared a
common awareness of dream lore.
Perhaps, credibility is the key word in
this study. Hispanists are accustomed to
read of the strong vein of realism which
runs through our literature. A medieval
author must have felt a strong need for
authenticity or credibility whenever he
found it necessary to write of an individual
event and not of an idealized perception of
the event. Dream reports convey this be-
lievability more forcefully when set in
realistic circumstances.
NOTES
'Edward Charles Ehrensperger examined Middle
English romances, chronicles, political pieces, satires,
didactic religious works and translations in his dis-
sertation "Dreams in Middle English Literature"
(Harvard, 1981). See Constance B. Hieatt, The Real-
ism of Dream Visions. The Poetic Exploitation of
the Dream-Experience in Chaucer and His Contem-
poraries (The Hague: Mouton, 1967) and Anthony
Colin Spearing, Medieval Dream Poetry (Cambridge:
Univ. Press, 1976). Herman Braet deals with the
prophetic dream in the French epic (Le Songe dans
28 Harriet Goldberg
la chanson de geste au XIIe siecle [Ghent: Romanica
Gaudensia, 1975]). W. G. van Emden ("Charle-
magne's Dreams in the 'Chanson de Roland'," French
Studies, 28 [1974], 257-71) deals with the impossibility
of interpreting literary dreams which the poet himself
did not intend to interpret fully. See also Georgia D.
Kelchner, Dreams in Old Norse Literature and their
Affinities in Folklore (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ.
Press, 1935). Robert A. Pratt has traced Chaucer's
use of Robert Holcot's Super Sapientam Salomonis
for dream lore ("Some Latin Sources of the Nonnes
Preest on Dreams," Speculum, 52 [1977], 538-70).
Currie Kerr Thompson deplores the lack of attention
to dreams in Hispanic criticism citing also Joseph
Schraibman's regrets with respect to this lack ("The
Use and Function of Dreaming in Four Novels by
Emilia Pardo Bazan," Hispania, 59 [1976], 856-62).
Patricia Boehne (Dream and Fantasy in 14th and 15th-
Century Catalan Prose [Barcelona: Hispam, 1975])
has written a study whose shortcomings are pointed
out by Marilyn Olsen (Hispania, 61 [1978], 386). An-
tonio Vilanova in the course of a characteristic search
for sources wrote of the spread of dream literature
throughout the peninsula ("La genesis de 'Lo somni'
de Bernat Metge," Boletin de la Real Academia
de Buenas Letras de Barcelona [1958-59], 123-56).
Some useful material can be found in Maria Rosa
Lida de Malkiel's Appendix to the translation of
Howard Rollin Patch, El otro mundo en la literatura
medieval, trans. Jorge Hernandez Campos (Mexico:
Fondo de Cultura Economica, 1956). Writing of a
later period Julian Palley has done some interesting
work on dreams: "La estructura onirica d, El
enamorado y la muerte," Hispan6fila, 55 (1975),
39-46; "'Si fue mi maestro un suefo': Segismundo's
Dream," KRQ, 23 (1976), 149-62; "Becquer's "Dis-
embodied Soul'," HR, 47 (1979), 185-92.
2See my articles, "Moslem and Spanish Christian
Literary Portraiture," HR, 45 (1977), 311-26 and
"The Literary Portrait of the Child in Castilian Lit-
erature," KRQ, 27 (1980), 11-27.
3"Myth and Dream in Hebrew Scripture," in
Myths, Dreams and Religion, Joseph Campbell (New
York: Dutton, 1970), pp. 48-67. Priest deals with
the message dream from Sumer in the third mil-
lenium to Grecian civilization: "The pattern consists
of an introduction which tells about the dreamer,
the locality and other circumstances. . . . The actual
content of the dream message follows and the whole
episode ends with a section referring to the reaction
of the dreaming person or perhaps some reference
to the actual fulfillment of the dream" (p. 61).
4In a paper read at the 1979 MLA meeting in San
Francisco, I argued that a poet-scribe had made a
creative connection between the two poems, seeing
them as a unified dream report. The poet gives his
location, the date, the hour, his physical and emo-
tional condition before his dream begins. The scenes
in the poem shift in dream-like fashion. Margaret
Antwerp, in an article dealing with the relationship
of the Raz6n de amor and the popular lyric, calls
attention to a popular song: "Y sofaba yo, mi madre,
/ dos horas antes del dia / que me florecia la rosa: /
ell vino so ell agua frida" ("Raz6n de amor and the
Popular Tradition," RPh, xxxii [1978-79], 1-17)
which suggests a relationship between dreams and the
water and the wine.
5See Anthony T. Perry, Art and Meaning in Ber-
Hispania 66 (March1983)
ceo's "Vida de Santa Oria" (New Haven: Yale Univ.
Press, 1968), pp. 53-55 for a discussion of the dream
vision as exemplum, In Curial e Guelfa, Curial's
dream is an exemplum on the subject of ingratitude
(ed. R. Aramon i Serra, 3 vols. [Barcelona: Barcino,
1930], i, 105-08). The dream needs no interpretation.
The companion, Melchior, simply shakes his head and
says: "Mala cosa es ingratitut; ans vos dich que es tan
grant pecat, que a tart o nulls temps n'aconseguix
hom remissii" (i, 108).
6Vida de Santo Domingo, Teresa Labarta de
Chaves, ed. (Madrid: Castalia, 1972), 226-52, and the
Libro de Alexandre, Raymond S. Willis, ed. (1934;
rpt. New York: Kraus, 1965), st. 951.
7Macrobius wrote: "Cicero . . . fearful of the un-
warranted censure that was heaped upon Plato, pre-
ferred to have his account given by a man roused
from sleep rather than by one returned from the
dead (Commentary on the Dream of Scipio, trans.
William Harris Stahl [New York: Columbia Univ.
Press, 1952], p. 81).
'Amadis de Gaula, Edwin B. Place, ed., 4 vols.
(Madrid: CSIC, 1962, 1965, 1969, 1971). He dreamt
(II, 395) but the interpretation was given later (II,
412-13). Frank Pierce (Amadis de Gaula [Boston:
TWAS, 1976], pp. 111-40 devotes a chapter to the
dreams in Amadis.
9Gran conquista de Ultramar, ed. Pascual de
Gayangos, BAE, vol. 44 (Madrid: Atlas, 1958), p. 55.
'"El libro del caballero Zifar, ed. Charles Philip
Wagner (Ann Arbor: Univ. Mich. Press, 1923), p.
121. Fernan Gonzalez repeats his dream and even the
circumstances to his troops (Poema de Ferndn Gon-
zalez, ed. Alonso Zamora Vicente [Madrid: Clas.
Cast., 1963]) beginning with his reason for visting
the monastery (sts. 422-25).
" Cancionero de romances (Anvers, 1550), ed.
Antonio Rodriguez Mofiino (Madrid: Castalia, 1967),
p. 182.
'Poesias completas, I, Serranillas, cantares y de-
cires. Sonetos fechos al itdlico modo, ed. Manuel
Duran (Madrid: Castalia, 1975), p. 203.
'3Alfonso Martinez de Toledo, Arcipreste de Tala-
vera, ed. Joaquin Gonzalez Muela (Madrid: Cas-
talia, 1970), p. 213.
"4Tratado de suenos in Anales Salmantinos, ed.
Fr. Luis G. A. Getino, Vida y obra de Fr. Lope de
Barrientos, i (Salamanca, 1927), 1-85. Getino gives
the title as Tratado del dormir but in the Dedicatoria
Fray Lope says he is writing a Tratado de suenos,
relating them to his concern with prophecy. For the
common classical sources see Cicero, De Re Publica,
trans. Clinton Walker Keyes (London: Loeb, 1966),
pp. 261-83; Cicero, De Divinatione, trans. William
Armistead Falconer (London: Loeb, 1923), pp. 214-
539; for Macrobius see n. 7 above; Artemidorus,
The Interpretation of Dreams. Oneirocritica by A rte-
midorus, trans. Robert J. White (Park Ridge, N.J.:
Noyes Press, 1975). For a summary of medieval
scientific thought see Lynn Thorndike, A History of
Magic and Experimental Science During the First
Thirteen Centuries of Our Era, 8 vols. (New York:
Columbia Univ. Press, 1923), particularly ii and inI.
See also St. Gregory the Great, Dialogues, trans.
Odo John Zimmerman (New York: Fathers of the
Church, 1959), p. 261, and St. Augustine, The Care
to be Taken for the Dead in Treatises on Marriage
and Other Subjects, trans. John A. Lacy (New York:
 Dreams in Medieval Hispanic Literature
Fathers of the Church, 1955), pp. 349-84. See also
Valerius Maximus, Factorum et Dictorum Memora-
bilium. Libri Novem (Leipzig: Teubner, 1888), I,
vii, 34-43. It is reasonable to assume popular
familiarity with the classifications of Macrobius.
Meaningful dreams were: enigmatic (somnium),
prophetic (visio), oracular (oraculum). Dreams with-
out meaning were apparitions which come in the
moments between wakefulness and sleep (visum) and
nightmares (insomnium) (Commentary, pp. 87-88).
They would have thought about dreams according to
their causes: dreams caused by food or other physical
stimuli (ex parte corporibus), dreams caused by the
dreamer's own thoughts, emotions or the events of
the day (ex parte anime), and dreams which originated
with either divine or demonic spirits.
'Fritz Meier, "Some Aspects of Inspiration by
Demons in Islam," in The Dream and Human So-
cieties, ed. G. E. von Grinebaum and Roger Caillois
(Berkeley: Univ. Calif. Press, 1966), pp. 421-29.
'6Refranero general ideol6gico espaiol (Madrid,
1953). See also numbers 59.242-59.252. Of interest
here are 59.243 "De los suefios, cree los menos";
59.244 "De los suenos ni creas malos ni buenos";
59.245 "No creas en suefios que no son verdaderos";
59.246 "Creer en suefnos, es de hombres necios";
59.247 "Creer en suefios, vanisimo agiiero"; 59.251
"Si uno hubiera de hacer todo lo que suefa, debe-
rianle atar."
'7Jose Maria Alin, El cancionero espaiol de tipo
tradicional (Madrid: Taurus, 1968), No. 537, p. 597.
The lines are: "Sofiaba yo que tenia / alegre mi cora-
6cn / mas a la fe, madre mia / que los suefios
suefos son." For other expressions of skepticism
see St. Jerome, "Apology Against the Books of
Rufinus," i, 31 in Dogmatic and Polemical Works,
trans. John N. Hritzu (Washington: Fathers of the
Church, 1965), pp. 102-04. Petrarch, in a letter re-
vealed a cautious attitude about two dreams in which
he seemed to have received telepathic messages. He
wrote: "In both cases I seemed to see what I hoped
or feared and fate merely coincided with my visions"
(Letters from Petrarch, trans. Morris Bishop [Bloom-
ington: Indiana Univ. Press, 1966], Bk. v, 7, 60-61).
See also Fernan Perez de Guzman's warning in "De
suenyos" Cancionero castellano del siglo XV, ed. R.
Foulche-Delbosc, 2 vols., NBAE (Madrid: Bailly-
Bailliere, 1912), I, 585.
'"FerdinandJ. Wolf and Conrad Hoffman, Prima-
vera y flor de romances, 2 vols. (Berlin, 1856; 2nd
ed., Marcelino Menendez y Pelayo, Antologia de
poetas liricos castellanos, viII, Ed. Nac. xxiv [San-
tander, 1945]), No. 175, p. 387.
'Cancionero de Baena, ed. Jose Maria Azaceta,
3 vols. (Madrid: CSIC, 1966), II, 413, No. 226. The
expression is a commonplace in dream accounts re-
flecting a common sensation manifested by a person
in the dream who asks the dreamer if he is asleep or
awake (see Ruy Paes in Baena, No. 289, p. 599 and
the story of the Cid's dream in the Primera cr6nica
general, ed. Ram6n Menendez Pidal [Madrid: Gredos,
1955], p. 633).
20See Ira Progoff, "Waking Dreams and Living
Myth," in Myths Dreams and Religion, pp. 176-95.
21LeReve dans la vie et la pensee de Saint Augustin
(Paris: Etudes Augustiniennes, 1973), pp. 18-20. In
the Comedieta de Ponza, the Queen of Portugal
says: "Non se si la nombre fantasma o vision"
29
(p. 264) and in El sueio, the Heart uses the term fan-
tasia (p. 181). Anthony Perry points out that Berceo
uses sueno and visi6n interchangeably (Santa Oria,
pp. 68-69).
22I cite the 1511 Castilian translation (Joannot
Martorell, Marti Joan de Galba, Tirante el Blanco,
ed. Martin de Riquer, 5 vols. [Madrid: Clas., 1974]).
See Bernat Metge, Lo somni, ed. Antonio Vilanova
Andreu (Barcelona: Escuela de Filologia de Barce-
lona, 1946) and n. 5 above for Curial. Examples of
Castilian appearance dreams are: "Paros me delantre
un ombre reuestido / ... tiengo que era angel del
cielo decendido" (Libro de Alexandre, ed. Raymond
S. Willis [1934; rpt. New York: Kraus, 1965], 1153
ac); "el monje San Pelayo de susol' fue venido"
(Ferndn Gonzdlez, 402 b); "Adurmi6se el rey don
Ramiro, et pareci6le estonces en suennos ell apostol
Sant Yague" (Primera cr6nica general, p. 360);
"Apareci6le una noche en suefios la virgen sancta
Maria" (Alfonso Martinez de Toledo, Vidas de San
Ildefonso y San Isidoro, ed. Jose Madoz y Moleres
[Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1962], p. 7).
23MedievalDream-Poetry, p. 11.
24Zifar, p. 273.
2"Inthe Libro de Alexandre the order of events is
reversed. The dream figure appears first in waking
reality and then Alexander, recognizing him, obeys a
post-dream command (1153-58). A similar post-dream
command and recognition scene is enacted in Tirant-
lo-Blanc (Tirante el Blanco, ed. Riquer, i, 25). Other
dreamers are given various orders: Paris will judge
the contest (Troyana, p. 97); Ruy Diaz will set out
on his mission (Poema de mio Cid, ed. Colin C.
Smith [Oxford: Clarendon, 1972], v. 407), Santa
Oria will rise up to meet the Virgin (st. 120); King
Tabor will fight well aided by the dream-child (Zifar,
p. 273). The author is commanded to write (Enrique
de Villena, Tratado de lepra in "Tres tratados,"
RH, XLI [1918], 198-214); Aylecarte de Montemerle
and the other knights are to go to the Pope to ask
him to preach in support of the Crusades (Ultramar,
112); the hermit in Zifar is given a message for his
house guest (p. 121); Elias, the prophet, is urged to
action (Primavera y flor de romances, No. 98, p.
245); Constantine must trace out the walls of his
new city (Primera cr6nica general, 195).
26Sinceso many dreams are enigmatic we can cite
Frank Pierce's comment about the dreams in Amadis:
"The dream ... is presented with psychological
insight and truth to experience, while like other sec-
tions of the contents of the story, it is also a struc-
tural device" (p. 140).
2Among those in bed were: Alexander (1149 a);
King Tabor (Zifar, 273); Ida and Eustacio (Ultramar,
91-92); Rodrigo and La Cava (Primavera, No. 5a,
pp. 88-89); King John (Primavera, No. 98, p.
245); the hermit (Disputa del alma y el cuerpo in
Antigua poesia espaiola lirica y narrativa, ed. Manuel
Alvar [Mexico: Porrua, 1970]); Constantine (Pri-
mera crdnica general, i, 195); Curial (i, 105); Gielfa
and the abbess-they shared the same bed and the
same dream (Curial, III, 221); Roboan (Zifar, p.
474); Ruy Diaz (Primera crdnica general, p. 633);
Marques de Santillana (Poesias completas, p. 175);
Corvalan (Ultramar, p. 224); the King of England
(Tirante, I, 25); Ruy Paes (Baena, No. 289, p. 599);
Bernat Metge, overcome with fatigue tries to resist
sleep by pacing until he can resist no more and he
30 Dreams in Medieval Hispanic Literature
throws himself on his bed (Lo somni, p. 1). Similarly
overcome with fatigue is Dona Leonor de Portugal:
"El dulce reposo buscaua de grado / y yo retrahime
fazia mi manida / en la qual, sobrada del suenyo y
vencida" she falls asleep (Santillana, Poesias comple-
tas, p. 264).
2"Paris, tired after chasing a deer through the
woods, stopped "e acosteme por rreposar e descansar
en vn prado que era alli cubierto de muchas arbo-
ledas" (La cor6nica troyana. A Medieval Spanish
Translation of Guido de Colonna's "Historiae
Destructionis Troiae," ed. Frank Pelletier Norris,
ii, UNCSRRL, No. 90 [Chapel Hill: Univ. of North
Carolina Press, 1970], Bk. vi, p. 97). The pilgrim in
the Milagros arrives at a meadow. Tired he takes off
his clothes and stretches out in the shade of a beautiful
tree (ed. A. G. Solalinde [Madrid: Espasa-Calpe,
1964], sts. 2-45). In the Raz6n de amor, the dreamer
has just eaten, and he stretches out in the noonday
shade in a lovely meadow (ed. Ram6n Menendez
Pidal, RH, xIii [1905], 602-18).
29Tratado de los suenos, p. 57. See also Charles
Speroni, "Dante's Prophetic Morning-Dreams,"
Studies in Philology, 45 (1948), 50-59.
30Givingthe date made the hermit's dream a part of
waking reality (Disputa del alma e el cuerpo, p.
137). Two of Santa Oria's dreams are dated (sts.
115 and 188), and for astrological reasons Imperial
gives the time: "En dos setecientos e mas doss e tres,
/ passando el aurora, viniendo el dia, / viernes pri-
mero del tergero mess," (Baena, No. 226, p. 413).
3Corvalan has been carousing, overeating and
drinking. He retires at a late hour (Ultramar, 224);
Eustacio and Ida have just been married (Ultramar,
91-92); Paris is hot and tired (Troyana, p. 97); Guelfa
and the abbess are tired (III, 221); Oria is tired and
half the night had already passed (st. 117); Sto. Do-
mingo was tired (st. 226); Metge was overcome with
fatigue (p. 1).
32Fernan Gonzalez is saddened by the death of
Pelayo and is worried about the forthcoming battle
with Almanzor (sts. 390-401); Tabor is thinking about
how to retain control over his realm (Zifar, p. 273);
Ramiro is upset over his military losses (Primera
cr6nica general, 360); Gielfa and the abbess are
worried about a battle and the fate of Curial and of
Guelfa's brother (iII, 221); the poet is thinking about
love (Raz6n de amor, vv. 10-37); Ruy Diaz is wor-
ried about King Bficar (Primera cronica general,
p. 633); Amunna, Oria's mother is worried about her
daughter (st. 168); Corvalan is worried about the
outcome of his battle with the Christians (Ultramar,
224); Perion is agitated about his love for Helisena
(Amadis, i, 18); the Archpriest of Talavera falls
asleep thinking about how women will react to his
book (p. 280); the English King is worried about the
siege of his realm (Tirante, i, 25); King Evolat is
thinking about how to defend his land from the
Egyptians and how to achieve lasting happiness (of
which Joseph of Arimithea had spoken) (Spanish
Grail Eragments, El libro de Josep Abarimatia, La
estoria de Merlin, Lancarote, ed. Karl Pietsch, 2
vols. [Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1924], i, 28);
Amadis is upset over the loss of Oriana (Ii, 395).
3This uncertainty after a long night of sleepless-
ness could be said to refer to Macrobius's classifica-
tion of meaningless dreams that come between wake-
fulness and sleep (see n. 14 above). Ruy Diaz told
his vassals that St. Peter had come to him while he
was "velando non durmiendo" (Primera cr6nica
general, 634). Tabor was unsure about the reality of
his dream and sent for the lads of the court to find
out if any of them had been in his bedchamber (Zifar,
273). Fortune tells Rodrigo (the last Visigoth) to
awaken if he is sleeping (Primavera, 5a, pp. 88-89);
the Archpriest wakes up frightened and unsure if his
experience had been "verdad o suenio o vanidad"
(Talavera, p. 281); the dreamer thinks he is awake
but the dream continues: "fuy yo despertado a desora,
ca senti entrar vna vieja tosiendo y muy de vieja
hedat" (Villena, Tratado de lepra, p. 194). In the
pretend dream of Plazerdemivida, she makes it credi-
ble by saying: "no s6 si dormia o velava" (II, 397).
"Samuel G. Armistead and Joseph H. Silverman,
The Judeo-Spanish Ballad Chapbooks of Yacob
Abraham Yond (Berkeley: Univ. Calif. Press, 1971),
pp. 68-73. Curial's sleep was deep: "Axi fort com si
fos litargich" (i, 105); Roboan's sleep in which the
devil has a part is so deep that he slept until the sun
came out the next day (Zifar, p. 474); Enrique de
Villena's sleep was happy (Lepra, p. 198); Ruy Diaz
had a sweet dream; "Un suefiol priso dulce tan bien
se adurmi6 (Poema de mio Cid, v. 405).
"3FernanGonzalez awoke with "derecho pavor" (st.
410 a); Hecuba was "espantada" (Alexandre, 349 a);
Ida suffered "tan grande miedo" (Ultramar, 92); Rey
Rodrigo awoke "muy congojado" (Primavera, 89);
Count Grimaltos "recordara con pavor" (Primavera,
393); Roboan awakened "como ome mucho espanta-
do" (Zifar, 474). The hermit's first account gives a
neutral awakening but when he recounts it to his house
guest he says: "e en esto desperte muy espantado"
(Zifar, 121). Although Ruy Paes had denied being
asleep he wrote: "Despert6 con grant gemido" (Baena,
p. 599); the pretend dreamers in the Disciplina Cleri-
calis story which is repeated in an exemplum make
their report believable: "El uno de los burgueses como
sofioliento e espantado desperto" (Clemente Sanchez
de Vercial, El libro de los exenplos a.b.c., ed. John
Esten Keller [Madrid: CSIC, 1961], No. 98, pp. 93-
94). The Archpriest of Talavera exaggerates typically:
"Congoxado de tormento, sudando, despert6 e pense
que en poder de crueles sefioras me avia fallado" (p.
281), and the Duke's dream was so terrifying that
when he awakened shouting his wife had to soothe
him with kisses (Ultramar, 73).
'6Vida de Santo Domingo, ed. Labarta de Chaves,
st. 244.
"Santa Oria, ed. Perry, sts. 109-10.
"Curial e Guelfa, ed. Aramon i Serra, p. 230.
39Dofa Lucia, San Ildefonso's mother was visited
during her pregnancy (Talavera, Vidas, p. 7); Bea-
triz's angelic visitation left behind the aroma of all
the herbs and spices of the world when she was told
about her baby (Ultramar, 53); Dofia Sancha dreamt
that her progeny would recapture C6rdoba (Cr6nica
de 1344 in Ram6n Menendez Pidal, La leyenda de los
Infantes de Lara, 3rd ed. [Madrid: Espasa-Calpe,
1971], p. 295); Hecuba dreams that her baby will kill
his father (Alexandre, 352). See Braet who writes:
"On peut se demander dans quelle mesure cette
creance est venue authentifier le grand nombre de
pr6sages qui concernent l'enfant a naitre: bien souvent
la femme recevait un songe prophetique au moment de
la conception" (p. 46).
40Aside from the previously mentioned shared
 Dreams in Medieval Hispanic Literature 31

dream accounts of Hecuba and Priam (Alexandre, graphs, 1974).

349 cd); Ida and Eustacio (Ultramar, 92); Count
Grimaltos and his wife (Primavera, No. 175, pp.
386-93); the Swan Knight and his wife (Ultramar,
73), we find Amunna, Oria's mother unwilling to
share her dream with her husband, choosing instead
her confessor: "No ech6 este sueno la duenna en
olvido / Ni lo que li dixiera Garcia su marido / re-
contogelo todo a Munno su querido" (Sta. Oria, 170).
41Poema de Jose. A Transcription and Comparison
of the Extant Manuscripts, ed. William Weisiger
Johnson (University, Mississippi: Romance Mono-
42Braet calls attention to the dreamer's conviction
of the truthfulness of his dream as a sign of its credi-
bility (p. 39). The reader shares this certainty and
therefore is in an especially informed state because he
often understands the dream better than does the
dreamer (p. 103).
43TheNext Room of the Dream: Poems and Two
Plays (Chicago: Univ. Chicago Press, 1963), p. 3.
4 Tratado de lepra, p. 198.
45Zifar, pp. 121-23.

EMERGENCY STAFFING IN YOUR DEPARTMENT?

For emergency staffing, call (806) 742-3100 or write the AATSP Placement Bureau, Texas
Tech University, Box 4649, Lubbock, TX 79409.

NEW DIRECTOR OF THE HISPANIC AND

LUSO-BRAZILIAN WORLD DEPARTMENT
Please send any appropriate items for The Hispanic World to Professor George R.
McMurray who is now in charge of this Department. Address all correspondence relating
to this section to: Professor George R. McMurray, Department of Foreign Languages
and Literatures, Colorado State University, Fort Collins, Colorado 80523.

The new Coordinator of Chapter Activities for the AATSP is Joyce A. Haggerty, a Pro-
fessor at Framingham State College, Framingham, Massachusetts. Joyce has long been
active in the affairs of the Massachusetts Bay Chapter and she has had much experience
in creating a stimulating environment for chapter activity. Please write her for advice con-
cerning chapter problems. Her address is:
27Fairmount Street
Winchester, MA 01890

Members of the AATSP are eligible for three tuition scholarships (worth about $250 each)
for the 1983 Summer Session of the University of Navarra. Please send a letter of applica-
tion and a complete Curriculum Vitae no later than I May 1983 to:
Prof. Dr. Jesus Cafiedo, Director
Instituto de Lengua y Cultura Espanolas
Universidad de Navarra
Pamplona, Espana

Ruth L. Bennett, former Coordinator of Chapter Activities for the AATSP, is retaining
her post as Coordinator of the Association's Career Education Service. The CES is de-
voted to helping students of AATSP members develop career opportunities inside and
outside of the foreign language education field. Write Mrs. Bennett with questions or
ideas pertaining to career opportunities for students of Spanish and Portuguese. Her
address is:
70-07 170th Street
Flushing, NY 11365