ABSTRACT
Just as the prologue to Ulrich von Zatzikhoven’s Lanzelet provides a foretaste of the work to follow, so one’s reaction to this prologue offers a first indication of how he will react to the work as a whole. The casual reader, for instance, will find little in the prologue to arrest his attention: he will read past the reassuring, traditional swer; he will be carried along by unexceptional language past a few familiar maxims; and he will arrive without a thought at line 41, the beginning of the tale itself. Such a reader will very likely approach the whole work in the spirit of Fredrick Norman, who writes of Ulrich: “Wir tun gut daran, keinen Sinn bei ihm zu suchen und ihn unbekümmert zu lesen.” 1
