The Libro de buen amor was given that title by Menéndez Pidal in 1898. Before, it was apparently called the Libro de los cantares. I wrote an entire M.A. examination on this book, four hours on a single question about this fragment:
De todos los enstrumentos yo, libro, só pariente:
Bien o mal, qual puntares, tal te dirá ciertamente.
Qual tú dezir quisieres, ý faz punto, ý, ten te;
Si me puntar sopieres, sienpre me avrás en miente.
Jack Walsh was impressed and said I had “covered every point,” but I did not cover the question of the title. Or rather I did, but I did it wrong.
That Menéndez Pidal is one of the sneakiest characters you can imagine. He manipulated investigations of the manuscript of the Cid so as to place it earlier and thus make it more competitive with the Roland. And now, this.
The issue is very important since this Libro is one of the secret intertexts of the present weblog. We mention the Popol Vuh directly, but the Libro de buen amor is also a performance text with a mysterious author, that engages questions of interpretation. My style of writing dramatic dialogue was derived from it.
¿Por qué lo hiciste, Ramón? ¡Qué cara! ¿Cómo puedes?