Whenever we begin the research for a new series, whether we're investigating the works of an
author, searching for historical storytelling patterns, or evaluating a genre, we run into
the same question: "why does this work?
What makes it so compelling?"
We always manage to come up with something, or else this show wouldn't exist.
It can be quite a task, though.
Art is not an easy thing to quantify, and more often than not we end up with a mile-long
thesis sporting all kinds of oversized words.
This month we're trying to articulate the satirical genius of Don Quixote, and the closest
we've come is to call it a "frame story that presents two competing layers of satire."
And that is interesting, but there's a simpler way: cleverer writers than we are have already
come up with three different types of satire which, together, tell us all we need to know
about this classic story.
By definition, satire is rather broad.
It's not a genre so much as it is a style.
Any work that employs exaggeration, humor, irony, or ridicule to provide a criticism
of something can fit the bill.
But notice that word-"or".
Satire is perhaps best known as a type of comedy, but it doesn't have to be.
Look at George Orwell's 1984, for instance.
A far cry from funny, but it's definitely providing a criticism.
The same is true for A Modest Proposal, by Jonathan Swift.
Ridicule, irony, hyperbole, but not much actual "humor" to speak of.
These both fit the shape of the classic satirical mode: "Juvenalian Satire."
The style was named for the early Roman poet, Juvenal, whose work criticized figures and
institutions of the time through personal invective, angry moral indignation, and general
cynicism.
Juvenalian satire attacks its subject with the intention to incite change through outrage,
and it's important in understanding Don Quixote because it comprises the bulk of the story's
first layer of satire: the metafiction.
Throughout both the first and second parts of the novel, Cervantes interjects in the
guise of various fictional narrators, each of whom provides a relatively stark perspective
on the state of Spanish literature at the time.
At one point, the author professes his concern that the novel won't be "intellectual" enough,
but an alleged "friend" of his sets his mind at ease by explaining that all he needs to
do to match the wit of his contemporaries is to dress the piece in superfluous academic
jargon.
Seeing how ridiculous this process will be, he decides to forego it altogether.
Another even more frequent example of this comes from his fictional translator, Cide
Hamete Benengeli, who constantly criticizes the nature of romanticism and chivalry.
This stark, biting criticism creates the first half of the book's fascinating satirical dynamic.
As potent and eye-opening as it can at times be, Juvenalian satire lacks a degree of...
subtlety.
It can often be hard to distinguish from pure scrutiny, which is more than a little undesirable
when you're trying to use it as a rhetorical tool.
Sometimes the gentler option is the more powerful.
At least, that's the philosophy behind Juvenalian satire's more playful counterpart: "Horatian
Satire."
Also named for an early Roman poet, Horace, Horatian satire is about indulgence, tolerance,
amusement, and wit.
The aim is to make the reader laugh not only at the subject of the criticism, but also
at themselves when they bear resemblance to it.
Look, for example, at the comical over characterization in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, or the
absurdly backward behaviors in Terry Pratchett's Discworld books.
The point of these stories is not to draw ire and outrage toward the subject of the
criticism, but gently, to show the audience how ridiculous it is.
And this is what we see in the tale of Don Quixote.
At every turn, another absurd satiric parable about the dangers of romantic idealization.
One of our favorite cases of this comes from a show of knightly justice in the first part,
when Quixote sets a train of prisoners he believes to be unjustly punished free.
As repayment for his service, he asks only that they make a pilgrimage to his imaginary
princess and tell her the story.
Instead, they beat him up and run off into the countryside with his things.
We expect some form of gratitude, but their ironic reaction gives us a taste of how impractical
his behavior truly is.
The fruits of romantic gallantry.
As you can see, Don Quixote is satirically diverse.
In writing it, Cervantes managed to employ both the biting criticism of Juvenal and the
gentle ridicule of Horace.
Nevertheless, the difference between the two is-in this case-only stylistic.
They both have the same effect-to criticize the romantic traditions of Spain, and on a
greater scale, romance itself.
But there's another layer here.
Beneath the story's actual text, we find a highly-sympathetic subtext.
Though a fool and a nuisance, the character of Don Quixote is ultimately a force of good.
His romantic mania inspires bravery, hope, joy, and initiative in those around him.
Sure, Cervantes portrays him as exuberant and brash in the first part, but in the second
he becomes moderate, thoughtful-even helpful-and the villains turn out to be those who scorn
and abuse the dreamer, robbing him and the rest of the world of his great, impossible
dream.
Naturally, this also implicates Cervantes and his metafictional cast.
Thus, rather than a couple of satirical styles used in criticism of the same thing, the entire
piece becomes a dialogue, urging the audience to think critically about the subject in multiple
ways.
That was... a lot of words.
To put it in simpler terms: Don Quixote is a "Menippean satire".
That is, it's similar in style to the work of the third-century poet, Menippus.
Allegedly, he used a variety of tools and styles-prose, verse, variations in tone-to
create a critical discourse about a high concept rather than a specific person or institution.
Take Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, for instance.
Extremely wide breadth of material, critical and otherwise, but with a clear overarching
theme of childhood and the silliness of the grown-ups who govern their lives.
You can also see this in Gulliver's Travels, by Jonathon Swift, which satirizes a truly
vast number of concepts, but is by and large a reflection of "one's own culture".
This is the simplest way to explain the genius of Don Quixote: Cervantes gives us satire
of both romance and its critics, but the story itself is about the value of romanticism in
a changing world.
A discussion that we find very much worthwhile.
The story we're about to write won't be a satire of the same concept contested in Don
Quixote; it's just going to borrow from the novel's style and structure.
But!
If there is a concept you'd like to see us try our hand at satirizing, please, let us
know in the comments!
And if you want to have an even more in-depth conversation with us about what we'll be writing,
you can join us on Patreon!
Supporters at the 15-dollar tier or higher have access to our "think tank" sessions on
discord.
They're a lot of fun, and it's a great way to contribute to the show!
As always, thanks for watching, and keep making stuff up!
We'll see you... next week.
Bye!