The question when the Middle Ages came to an end is not easy to answer, particularly when we look at the tradition of late-medieval prose novels (Volksbuecher) that were passed on far into the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Many medieval narrative motifs found a new audience among the broad masses of early modern readers who were greatly interested in what the book printers and book sellers offered on the markets. The other, pertinent question whether these novels, also called chapbooks, constituted something like early forms of "trivial" literature is likewise hard to answer. In many cases we know that, initially, these chapbooks were commissioned and written by noble readers and authors, whereas only later, when printing became a cheap means of disseminating literary material, the same texts were also enjoyed by members of the lower classes (see my study on this topic: *The History of the German Volksbuch* [Lewiston, N.Y.: The Edwin Mellen Press, 1995]).
A third issue needs to be considered in the case of the chapbooks. Irrespective of where the original texts had been composed, many of them were soon translated into the major European languages, a process which makes it to a rather tricky decision for librarians where to shelve modern editions in their collection, since they can often be considered both "translations" and original contributions to the respective national literatures.
In the case of *Florent et Lyon*, as it is called in the original French, or *Kaiser Octavianus* in the German translation by Wilhelm Salzmann, the problem might not be solvable, which forces the reader to be a little computer savvy to trace the book in the libraries.
The novel deals with Emperor Octavianus and his wife who has delivered twin boys and is recovering from the birth. Her mother-in-law is extremely jealous and accuses her of having committed adultery, which lead, in the first place, to the creation of the twin boys. The old woman convinces her son of the "truth" of her accusations, wherefore the wife is to be burned at the stake. The lords of the country intervene and beg for her life, but only to win her life from the fire. Instead of killing her, the Emperor expels his wife and two sons from his country who then experience a series of adventures. Eventually, when the sons have grown up and gained knightly honors, the marriage of their parents will be restored and the sons gain the crown of Spain and the crown of England respectively. The narrator comments this whole section in his introduction with the brief statement: "das dann gar kurtzweilig zuo hoeren ist" (6; which is very entertaining to hear). In the meantime the Babylonian king attacks France but is overcome by the Christians, receives baptism and pays a large tribute for the rest of his life.
This brief summary suffices to illuminate some of the reasons why this and many similar chapbooks became popular reading material in the late-medieval and early modern period. The themes of chivalric warfare, adultery, conflicts between Christians and Moslems, false accusations of a wife, the evil mother-in-law, love affairs between a Christian knight and a Turkish princess, tournaments, and knighthood fill the pages of this novel and appeal to a wide range of readers.
The present edition offers, for the first time, the French version (prose) in its oldest printed form and the earliest printing of Salzmann's translation into German. The original tale was probably contained in the *Grandes Chroniques de France* or *Chroniques des Saint Denis* in which the family tree of the Carolingians and Capetians had been outlined in fictionalized form. Literary adaptations of the same narrative materials were created by the Countess Elisabeth of Nassau-Saarbruecken (*Koenigin Sibille* and *Herpin*), to which, unfortunately, the editors here never refer in their commentary and epilogue. Salzmann's translation became, in turn, the basis for translations into Yiddish, Polish, and Russian (see W. Kosny, *Das deutsche Volksbuch vom Kaiser Octavian in Polen und Russland*, Ph.D. Berlin 1967).
We know very little about Salzmann and must rely on speculations about his person. He dedicated his work to a "Meister Johansen Brun" who was a schoolteacher and cantor in Brunndrut in the diocese Besancon in the Swiss Kanton of Bern. But there are other candidates with the same name whom Salzmann might have had in mind. The translator knew his French very well and also proved to be an excellent writer in his native German tongue. More we cannot really say about him.
The German text edition is based on the 1535 Strassburg print, of which two copies in the Herzog August Bibliothek Wolfenbuettel (4o L 1878i) and the Wuerttembergische Landesbibliothek Stuttgart (HB 80.4) were consulted. For the French version, von Ertzdorff and Seelbach used the copy from 1500, today in Lyon, Bibliotheque municipale, Inc. 903, which Salzmann obviously had in front of him for his translation. In editing both the French and the German version of the text only some technical emendations w ere applied to make the reading more easier, for example abbreviations are written out, and some word division markers are added. The changes to the 1526 edition are listed in the appendix.
Salzmann's text from 1535 was often reedited throughout the following centuries. The bibliography of prints includes forty three entries from 1535 until 1850. Seven more editions are mentioned in older scholarship, but could not be verified. The French text is extant in fifteen editions from 1500 until ca. 1620-1630.
The commentary provides information and linguistic explanations both for the French and the German text, but often these hints and notes do not seem to be really necessary for the comprehension of the texts. Two indices at the end contain a list of German words discussed in the commentary and a list of all names mentioned in Salzmann's translation.
The remarkable feature of this edition is that both texts are printed face to face which allows the direct comparison. *Florent et Lyon* contains more illustrations than Salzmann's text, but they are normally of a small size and not very elaborate. By contrast, the German illustrator created fewer but highly artistic woodcuts of great aesthetic value. Unfortunately, the editors have not analyzed these illustrations, and do not inform us, for example, in what other chapbook editions they had been used. The illustration on p. 227 appears, for example, to have been lifted from Elisabeth von Nassau-Saarbrücken's *Hug Schapler* (ed. J.-D. Mueller, 1990, p. 231). Often only half of an illustration is used from other editions, such as the one on p. 265, where the right half was taken from *Hug Schapler* p. 241. Art historians will find much valuable material for investigation in this and other chapbooks.
Although this edition offers two texts which technically might not really belong to the Middle Ages, the content and the historical origin of the tale contradict this impression. In fact, we might say that "Romanticism" had important antecedents as early as in the late fifteenth and sixteenth century, as *Kaiser Octavianus* amply documents. The dream of the medieval past began rather early, and in many respects our own world is returning to this dream by way of Hollywood productions and subsequent toys and games.
Von Ertzdorff and Seelbach are to be praised for their solid editorial efforts which will serve as a model for other editions of French, German, Spanish, and Italian chapbooks. The difference between this edition and one prepared by Theresia Friderichs-Mueller (Hamburg 1981) is that the latter was a facsimile edition, whereas the present publication is in modern print and has been emended to some extent. The Augsburg edition from 1568, used by Friderichs-Mueller, served as a model for the Yiddish translation. It would have been very helpful if von Ertzdorff and Seelbach had discussed the differences between the German "Volksbuch" and the Yiddish, Polish and Russian versions. In such a case the inclusion of text samples indicating the significant thematic variations resulting from the translation process would have been very insightful. As much as the translation from the French into the German brought such changes about, which need to be examined in greater detail than it was possible in the commentary here, as much can we assume that the same occurred when this novel was rendered into Polish or Russian. More information about these questions can be expected from the proceedings from a conference on this chapbook that took place in Giessen, Germany, from June 14 through 19, 1993 (Amsterdam-Atlanta: Editions Rodopi, 1994).
Be this as it may, von Ertzdorff and Seelbach made an important contribution both to late-medieval French and German literature by providing us access again to one of the more popular chapbooks.