Dana Schwartz (2:11)
C Studio for details welcome to Noble Blood, a production of iHeartRadio and Grim and Mild from Erin Menke. Listener discretion advised. Hey, this is Dana Schwartz. Just one quick announcement before we actually get into today's episode. I am so excited, but this Summer in July. I am helping to lead a pilgrimage to the south of France to talk about Julia Child with an amazing program called Common Ground. You might know this is the 1, 2, 3. This would be the fourth. Oh, my gosh, the fourth pilgrimage I've done with this program. I do them because I love them. They're absolutely incredible. For the better part of a week, you get together with an amazing group of people, go on long walks, talk about literature and history, write, and just sort of get in touch with yourself in a way that you really don't in normal life. I think there are still some spots left. You should absolutely look it up. The program is Common Ground. We'll be talking about Julia Child in Provence, reading some of her letters, reading some short stories that relate to themes of community and pleasure and food, and again, just eating delicious food, going on long walks in the south of France. It's sort of my dream trip. And what really makes these trips amazing is the people who come on them. So if you're a listener of this podcast, I imagine that you're, you know, my type of person, and I would love to have you there. So just wanted to throw that out before the episode. Now, let's get into it. Cyrano de Bergerac's friend was terrified. The friend had offended a count, and now word was 100 men were waiting to ambush him. On the Count's orders, he and Cyrano walked through the darkened streets of 17th century Paris towards their likely doom. And Cyrano said something astonishing. I will save your life on one condition. You must wait behind me. Do not attempt to interfere. The friend was incredulous. The rumors were 100 men were going to attack him. Surely Cyrano, a man renowned for his wit, had to be joking. The few other friends accompanying them that night were incredulous, too. It was a small group of men waiting by the Seine, supporters of Cyrano. Although they were by no means eager to join such an unfair fight, they were stunned that Cyrano apparently did not want any help at all. There was also a bitter rival in the group who had come just to gloat over Cyrano's inevitable demise. Even he was gobsmacked by the divisive musketeer's brash spirit, especially once the small group neared the Portenisla gate and saw the huge crowd of hired ruffians lurking there with knives, clubs and swords. But when Cyrano was questioned by his companions, he just thumbed his famed nose. Stand back. I wish to fight them alone. Then he drew his rapier and walked toward the mob. Seeing the lone figure approach, the thugs laughed and jeered. Was this guy drunk, stupid, or downright suicidal? As it turned out, none of the above. Well, maybe he was a bit drunk. Cyrano and his buddies had spent most of the afternoon at a tavern. But he wasn't kidding. He wasn't delirious, and he didn't have a death wish. Cyrano strode on unhurried. When the first hoodlum came at him with his massive sword, Cyrano deftly sliced his neck, felling him in one blow. Every other hooligan sprung into action, but Cyrano maneuvered so his assailant could only attack one at a time. Then, with incredible skill, he dispatched them one after another until two were dead, seven were wounded, and the rest had fled. When Cyrano's friend came to check on him and asked if he should put the wounded out of their misery, Cyrano replied, no, leave them, they will tell the story. Or actually, maybe it was eight men wounded instead of seven. And maybe Cyrano's final line was really back to the tavern. Or even that will teach people to mess with poets. In reality, most accounts of that famous fight are fictitious or highly exaggerated, as are many other tales about the larger than life character, including one of the most famous plays of the 19th century. But at the core of everything, there really was a real French swordsman named Cyrano de Bergerac, who was quite the swashbuckling soldier poet. And in many cases, the truth about him is even more beguiling than the fiction. I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is noble blood. To get a sense of the man behind such a legendary character, we have to unravel multiple myths, many of which Cyrano actually started and or embellished himself. Our first legend to unpack is the name. Our famous Frenchman was born in 1619 with the full name Savignon de Cyrano de Bergerac. In keeping with family tradition, he would have been commonly known as Savigne de Cyrano. However, seemingly at some point in his adolescence, he chose to start going by Cyrano de Bergerac. This shift caused a fair amount of confusion in his time as well. As for some later biographers and writers, the shortening was purportedly very intentional. Unlike his father, Abel de Cyrano, ending on de Bergerac made Cyrano sound more highborn. It made it seem as if Cyrano was a noble from Bergerac, an idyllic town in a wine growing region of southwest France. But according to modern historians, Cyrano did not actually come from an aristocratic lineage. Nor was he, due to inherit sizable lands. Cyrano's grandfather, a fishmonger son himself, had worked hard to nab an administrative role in the royal French court and was given a relatively modest estate near Bergerac. This certainly lifted his family from more humble, seafood scented origins, but it didn't naturally place them among the powerful nobility. But clearly Cyrano had aspirations of fully joining the fancy patrician ranks. According to one 17th century writer, there were five basic paths to becoming a noble at that time. Most required direct access to a prince or to King Louis XIII and the procurement of some kind of royal favor. However, one path was simpler, a career of arms. After finishing college in Paris, Cerneau leaned into his shortened name and bold new identity and got accepted into a company of mostly high class Gascon musketeers who assumed he was a similar Gascon or someone from the Gascony province of France. Sure, being a member of this kingsguard brought inherent danger, but as we'll soon get to that was actually a big draw for Cyrano. Our second prominent piece of lore to pardon me sniff out is the nose. Cyrano having a monstrously large snoot is probably the most remembered detail about him in Edmond Rostand's famous play Cyrano de Bergerac, which debuted in 1897. Cyrano's ludicrously large nose was an overwhelming source of self doubt. He was convinced that it made him so ugly that no woman would love him. Here the playwright was not an utter Pinocchio. He did not wholly fabricate the notable olfactory feature, although he did greatly exaggerate its proportions. Apparently in reality, Cyrano reportedly did have a distinct nose of above average size. But there is a whiff of doubt about his level of sensitivity about it. Some historians claim Cyrano's nose was indeed a source of shame and likely contributed to his confrontational nature. It's easy to see why, when both friends and foes often made hyperbolic jokes about it, such as one of his contemporaries jests that Cyrano's nose forms in the middle a mountain which looks as if it ought to be after the Himalayas, the highest mountain in the world. Not the best jab creatively, but still probably had to sting. But other writers actually assert that Cyrano was quite proud of his preeminent snout. A portrait engraved roughly a year before his death shows a nose that was substantial but not staggering. It also depicts Cyrano in a three quarter profile, an odd angle for him to have chosen for his picture if he was that self conscious about his nose. To examine the whole matter, nose to tail it's conceivable that multiple accounts on the matter were true. Cyrano quite possibly was touchy about his appearance early in his life, especially as an insecure teenager and young adult. But perhaps he came around to accept his unique face and even drew some of his signature panache from it. A third key part of Cyrano's fabled Persona was that he was an epic know it all. In countless dramatized versions of Cyrano's life, he was a witty, sharp tongued wordsmith. And this mostly does seem to align with historical descriptions of the real life Cyrano. As a young cadet, he frequented wine shops, where he fell in with a crowd of creative, ambitious free thinkers who called themselves libertines. Inspired by these intellectuals, Cyrano delved into poetry and philosophy. He rebelled against the government, societal norms, and against his favorite target of all, the Catholic Church. He wrote ample satires about priests and cardinals, while also getting into numerous spicy feuds with other artists. Cyrano always backed up his words with action, though. Which brings us to our final legendary element to unpack his reputation as an unbeatable swordsman. And on this point, basically every biography, tale and dramatic narrative agrees. Cyrano reputedly fought in many duels. So many that in addition to broadly describing him as a poet, philosopher and playwright, most works written about him cite duellist as one of his main vocations. Interestingly, while Cyrano certainly rubbed some people the wrong way, he apparently rarely fought on his own behalf. Most often, he was recruited as backup by others who wanted the ultimate ringer for their clashes. In a letter, he even joked about how in demand he was with duels. It would be false to say that I am the first among men, for in the last month I swear I have been second to everybody. A pun on the fact that being second in a duel means you're the main duelist's backup. All in all, this fighting spirit may have been his calling card, but it also would possibly lead to his downfall. The question of what drove Cyrano to fight with verbal barbs and actual swords provides invaluable insight into who he truly was and eventually what would become of him. And there are several interesting theories on the matter of his core motivation. One potential driving force was again a yearning to be a member of the nobility, as evidenced by a years long conflict with his father over his chosen name and Persona. Cyrano's commitment to his lifestyle may have underlined a desperate need to attain wealth and power atop the social hierarchy. And for the noble young Parisian musketeers of Cyrano's, era, gallivanting around and challenging challenging people to duels was supposedly a key part of a noble's daily routine. That said, the duels weren't just preening and posturing people frequently died in them. Furthermore, royal edicts had outlawed duels in the city and promised harsh punishments for those caught in the act, including banishment or execution if the duelist didn't first die in the duel, that is. And yet, if certain estimates are to be believed, Ciorno participated in hundreds of duels, which does not seem to fully fit with a simple goal of just ascending to the aristocracy. In other words, even as an elite sword fighter, Cyrano presumably still could have gotten invited to plenty of swanky parties with without filling his calendar quite so full of very risky fights to the death, Various writers have offered another love Were Cyrano's battles of wit and swords a way to showcase his dashing bravery, a sort of dramatic peacocking? In Rostand's famous play, Cyrano's deep yet tragic love for his cousin Roxanne informs his entire emotional arc. And to be clear, his arc with Roxanne isn't tragic because they're cousins and unable to pursue romance. That was not uncommon back then, although the church did attempt to limit marriage between closely related people. As you may recall, his nose is actually the tragically stuck steep obstacle impeding a mutual attraction with Roxanne. And so, according to that version of the story, doubting his chances with his beloved Cyrano famously helps a tongue tied but handsome fellow soldier woo Roxanne instead. Overall, Rostand's play was actually thoroughly researched and contains many accurate details, but the romance was a creative invention. Cyrano did have a female cousin who may have been an inspiration for Roxanne, but there seems to be no evidence that he loved her. In general, historians and writers of different eras have disagreed on Cyrno's romantic inclinations. Some have claimed he wasn't all that interested in pursuing fulfilling relationships with women. Others have asserted more outright that he was a homosexual. That latter theory provides probable context for Cyrano's tumultuous relationship with an older writer and musician named Charles de Suci. According to some scholars, De Succi had a sinister reputation for using his social standing to seduce and manipulate younger male artists. This could have been the case with Cyrano, although the full story was probably even more complicated. Judging by certain letters, documents and biographical texts, Cyrano had an intimate relationship with d' Assussi through most of his twenties, but their bond then turned extremely bitter and escalated into a vicious rivalry involving death threats and both men circulating derisive open letters. All this to say Cyrano's love life was likely fraught and may have fueled some of his more spiteful written work. But seemingly, love was not the catalyst in many of his most memorable exploits. Perhaps, as some modern historians claim, a more all encompassing motivation for Cyrano was a sweeping desire to be revered and remembered. That would definitely help explain his obsession with duels and the hyping up of his sword fighting triumphs. Case in point, that famed fight at the Port du Nestle on the Seine that we mentioned in the introduction of this episode. The brawl did reportedly happen. It might not have been 100 men versus one, as various rumors and brags insisted, but it still showcased Cyrano's courage and knack for staging. His impressive victory despite being significantly outnumbered, as well as his selectivity in choosing which witnesses to bring along created ideal conditions for the legend to spread. And of course, his role as the loyal protector of a friend in need made Cyrano quite the inspiring hero. Accordingly, as one prominent biographer of Cyrano de Bergerac put it, this episode was a prime example of his temptation of heroism. Cyrano's longing for glory went far beyond fighting, though. In fact, a major shift in Cyrano's life seemingly occurred when, to put it bluntly, he tried to put his ass kicking days behind him. He fully leaned into his literary endeavors, assuming the written word would be an even better path to lasting respect and artistic immortality. Unfortunately, like his romantic arc in fictionalized versions of his life, Cyrano's writing career followed a tragic trajectory. His eloquent letters and plays were enjoyed by some, but he struggled to find a larger audience to support himself along the way. As a writer, he worked for a wealthy patron, dedicating poems and other works to him. But Cyrano would become creatively frustrated. As an escapist outlet, he began working on an expansive satirical novel titled the Other Comical History of the States and Empires of the Moon. Cyrano spent years on his magnum opus, but unfortunately, he did not live to see it. Published in 1654, the daring duellist turned novelist met an uncharacteristically mundane bit of fortune. While Cyrano was entering the house of his wealthy patron, a worker apparently dropped a block of wood on his head. Or at least that's what happened, according to Rostand's play. Other accounts paint a similar picture, often hinting that the supposed accident was was in fact a premeditated act of revenge for Cyrano's past duels or feuds. Analysis by a few Historians even point to Cyrano possibly having been injured in an attack on his patron's carriage, which could have either been an unrelated crime or, again, an act of vindictive foul play. Whatever the case, Cyrano convalesced for over a year in his cousin's home, then died in 1655 at the age of 36. However, as we know, that was far from the end of his story. It's hard to think of many historical figures whose romanticized legacies more greatly eclipsed their actual lives, to the point that many are genuinely surprised to learn that a real Cyrano de Bergerac actually existed. Roston's play was largely to thank for that. The theater production featured highly celebrated French actors when it premiered in Paris in 1897 and became an instant roaring success. Critics praised its delightfully rhyming verses, and the French public reportedly fell for the compelling romantic story while taking national park pride in the way the play showcased the country's iconic Musketeer era. The original cast members performed the noseworthy, noteworthy play hundreds of times in Paris. Then various iterations of the show toured throughout Europe, North Africa, the Middle east, and North America. The drama was initially performed in French, but was soon translated into many other languages. Acclaimed stagings graced Broadway as well as numerous renowned theaters and festivals across the world, and the play eventually inspired musical and cinematic adaptations, novels, operas, radio plays, and TV episodes of varying genres. In pop culture, Cyrano's name started intrinsically conjuring up images of absurdly large noses and then became shorthand for a scenario in which one person helps ghostwrite another's love interest. There's irony to be found in the fact that some of the least accurate parts of Cyrano's story became the most widely repeated. On the other hand, this isn't that surprising because a that's the way history so often goes, and B, we must again remember that the seeds of so many of those myths were planted by Cyrano himself. Cyrano modified his name and constantly tried to beef up his own reputation. He helped his wealthy patron compose eloquent letters to presumably pass off as his own, and he wrote innumerable witty zingers about others, some even pointing out their big noses. For example, as a teenager, Cyrano wrote a comedic play that was a thinly veiled rebuke against a hated professor at his college. In that play, a character describes the professor's appearance using many creative insults, including the crack that his nose arrives everywhere a quarter of an hour before its master. In something of a cruel twist, these insults then served as inspiration for the playwright Rostand, who had the theatrical version of Cyrano rattle off a run of similar snooty digs about himself in his play. So while the playwright Rostand deserves accolades for popularizing the legend of Cyrano, Cyrano deserves plenty of credit for mythologizing himself as well. Given the real life Cyrano's skill at crafting legends, it would seem a distinct tragedy if the works he was most proud of never saw the light of day. Thankfully, that wouldn't be the case. After Cyrano died, his friend and later biographer Henri Librett, published the other comical history of the States and Empires of the Moon and its sequel, the States and Empires of the Sun. From a literary perspective, the novels are fascinating and have been lauded by many for their imaginative storytelling as well as their importance to the science fiction genre. In fact, lines of influence can be drawn from Cyrano's works of fiction to that of heavyweights like Jonathan Swift, Voltaire, H.G. wells, and Jules Verne. Cyrano's novels predicted several futuristic technologies, including a type of audiobook, and he was arguably the first writer to clearly describe rocket power based space travel. The book's sci fi concepts are undoubtedly intriguing, but so are their philosophical and personal themes, as many historians advise caution should be used when linking artists work to their personal lives. But that said, it's pretty difficult in this case since so many components are, forgive me, so on the nose. The protagonist of these novels is named Cyrano and spoiler alert, after finally making it to the moon, he finds an alien civilization whose interests come off as eerily similar to Cyrano de Bergerac's own. The moon men have specific naming conventions, atheist philosophies, and they cherish and honor big noses. Given the real Cyrano's audacious personality, it's also tempting to imagine whether he would have looked down his proud nose at all of the even wilder portrayals of him to come. Those depictions obviously accentuated unflattering characteristics, but if his primary motive throughout his life was indeed to be remembered, then mission accomplished, right? Cyrano's own correspondence suggests that he cared little about being a divisive figure as long as people were talking about him. In one letter he basically summed this up, stating, in truth, it is a very great consolation to me to be hated because I am loved, to find enemies everywhere because I have friends everywhere. All in all, Cyrano quite possibly would have felt grateful that for Rostand and other writers who immortalized him as they did, although knowing Cyrano, he still probably would have found reasons to challenge them to duels. That's the swashbuckling story of the real Cyrano de Bergerac. But stick around after a brief sponsor break to hear another surprising French connection to several more fabled musketeers.
