Trapped in the Cage of a Woman -Elizabeth

For the stories of Bisclavret and Lanvel, I feel like the symbolism in them is crucial…for otherwise, the story would be less interesting or satisfying (although even with the symbolism it’s not super abundant either of these). In both of these, the woman who is first in love with the man of the story ultimately determines both of their fates. But the difference is that when each was confronted with an admission of sudden (unwanted) truth, one woman chose to follow her fear and disgust, betraying and condemning her man, while the other chose to forgive, saving the life of her man. While the symbolism added meaningful enjoyment, the actions are what defined what was remembered.

No matter what previous story I look at though, no matter how the woman acted (good & loyal or source of betrayal), it appears the overall lesson these stories teach is that the man should always be listened too, followed, and believed in no matter what…or else horrible consequences of trial and sacrifice will occur. Le Fresne, the living icon for kindness and honesty, never once shamed or went against her lover despite what pain this probably caused her; from losing her virginity to him (despite her oath to the church), to what his marrying another made her feel. Because of which, she was eventually rewarded with the finding of her parents and the opportunity to marry her lover.

But the wife in Bisclavret, who arguably acted from a rational fear and acted to save her lifestyle, future legacy, her reputation, and thus broke her husband’s trust, ended up horribly disfigured and shamed. The story gives the impression had she chose to do nothing, despite her fear and her husband’s potential for evil/harm, she might have had a much happier ending. Had this been in a modern setting with an abusive husband (source of fear), a woman would be expected and helped enabled to leave him. But in medieval romances, it seems no matter what the case may be, a woman cannot decide to leave her legal partner.

Even the horny queen, who felt wounded at Lanvel’s declaration of love for another, was careful to keep her attempted actions a secret from her husband (though she never committed the actual affair) and not betray his trust/will, just saw her will for Lanvel to be taken to court done, never personally received any punishment. Although some could argue the penalty for her attempt at betrayal was being shown up/shamed by another more beautiful woman, but that’s a debatably mild punishment. When compared to the wife who did have an affair (in Equitan) even though she didn’t appear to want to do it yet was still killed for it, this difference in action (whether the fact the action is known or not is a debatable factor as well) and faith to their husband is what decided the woman’s fate.

While I personally really appreciate a good, happy conclusion, I also noticed the justice in these types of stories are either way too harsh, or way too lenient. Thus, I often find myself rarely ever satisfied with these endings…Which is odd, for I never considered proper justice a factor in what a story needs to be satisfactory. This overly influenced sense of justice does help emphasize the presence of each described “moral”, but I think it takes away a lot more from the enjoyment of the actual story (which is needed, for it to be remembered and possibly passed down) as a modern reader. The fact this sway in power and control is what made these stories so popular then, since it doesn’t do much for me now other than reflect on such an imbalance of morals, trust, love, and power, is a peculiar thought. I'm glad that philosophies on such things have changed as much as they have over the years.

Never Judge a Beast by His Body

Wouldn't it have been great to be an intellectually advanced, rational man in the twelfth century, able to convince your wife that you actually become a werewolf on the days you sneak away to your lover's chambers?

Bisclavret's wife admits she's hesitant to question him specifically because she fears his anger, even though he is convincingly calm and sweet when she admits this - so convincingly that she announces, "...now I'm cured!" Let's keep in mind, the only thing she's questioning are his whereabouts over the course of three days...that's about half a week! She should be the angry one! However, I can't blame the girl. She's only trying to foreshadow the fact that half of him physically becomes a beast.

When she finally does ask, Bisclavret says, "'I become a werewolf: I go off into the great forest, in the thickest part of the woods, and I live on the prey I hunt down,'" (and how does he say he goes? Stark naked? Yeah, I'm sure you do, bud. Your side babe probably finds the werewolf fantasy sexy too.)

Bisclavret's wife responds to the apparent truth that her husband becomes a werewolf on the days he is missing without surprise; she expresses no shock or amazement that her husband does this. It's as if it's normal for people to become werewolves, and perhaps, to her, it is. Either way, her only response is to further question him - this time, on the whereabouts of his clothes. At this point, Bisclavret had already declared, "'There's nothing you could want to know that, if I knew the answer, I wouldn't tell you.'" Hence, he reveals the location of his clothes as well. It's after this truth that the wife expresses "fear" or "terror" for "the whole adventure," or the whole idea of her husband in physical beast mode. (She doesn't even want to sleep with his savage ass.) Wait...I thought the only thing she had to fear was his anger? WAIT...the beast is the anger. The husband's physical werewolf state is the symbolic representation of actual, emotional anger, which Bisclavret doesn't express at all until his wife betrays him. The wife fails to separate the physical world from the emotional one. She immediately decides to telephone a new lover, but I don't know why. Is she getting even?

The wife's betrayal seals Bisclavret in his lean, mean werewolf body forever, just like he says it would. However, the king and his court recognize that Bisclavret may look like a beast, but his mind is still human. His gratitude toward the king and his court for protecting him makes sense, and his anger towards his wife and her new husband also makes sense. I'm glad there was a handy-dandy wise man to speak up for this sense in defense of Bisclavret by informing the king that there must be a reason why the beast is nice to everyone except two specific people. 

At this point in the poem, my little cheating metaphor falls apart entirely and it becomes clear that this lai is more about fear, anger, and mistrust than anything. The poem ends with the only punishment worse than death for this wife: banishment and a noseless lineage. Fine, but...is this nose thing supposed to be humurous? I agree that it would stink (no pun intended) to live without a nose, but it can't possibly have any significance, can it?

The Lais of Marie de France. Translated, with an introduction and notes, by Robert Hanning and Joan Ferrante. (1978)

Just a Fairytale?

To me, this story is about Lanval the outcast. He’s this loyal knight who is dissed by his fellow knights; he’s just as chivalrous as they are, so what’s the deal? Why can’t he be accepted? Arthur also doesn’t grant Lanval the land he’s promised, and loyalty goes both ways, right? He doesn’t fit into this society, so it only makes sense that is love is outside of that as well. 

Even his beloved is described as an otherworldly creature, “The judges who saw her marveled at the sight; no one who looked as her was not warmed with joy” it sounds as though she's straight out of a fairytale. Often, a love so deep as this will always be at odds when it comes to society’s "standards". The world isn’t a place where a love like theirs can flourish, which is why it’s being kept a secret. 

Even though there’s a happy ending, their love can’t even exist in the real world. The ugliness of this world is emphasized when Lanval’s love refuses to stay when offered Arthur’s best of the best. Their love can only flourish in Avalun, a beautiful island, far away from society. 

I also really appreciated the reversed gender roles in this story!

Love or Sex?

Back at it again with a blog post! 

I fail to see with every lais that we've read so far what love has to do with anything. To me, and this shouldn't be a surprise to anyone who knows me, it seems like the word love is just a more respectable and accepted way to say sex back in these good ol' days.

For most of us general plebeians, love doesn't hit us with a glance or with a rumor of perfection. It happens usually over time and grows throughout the wonderful and romantic dating process. Sure, there's some sexy times thrown in there for some added excitement and fun. But love doesn't come straight from looks or renown.

What has been irritating me about these lais is that it just seems like love is interchangeable with sex. Or maybe, not even sex. How about lust? 

When Lanval looks upon his Lady Lurve (<-- alliteration, kids!) it seems like he is just so happy that a hot girl noticed him and wants to offer up her Magic Hoo-Hah that he just goes with it. Duh. That's not surprising. But to go so far as to call his sexual urges for this chick love? Nah, brah. 

There's a term for this type of love in young adult novels and even romance novels (my personal fave!) and that is insta-love. Let me tell you, that crap is ANNOYING. That does not happen in real life. I want to see the push/pull dynamic. The struggle to come to terms with each other's real feelings. I want some emotion, dammit! I don't want some fluffy, cheesy, sickly-sweet romance that isn't believable. Make me believe in your love! 

It's to the point where if I see a woman say, "I love him so much!" All I think about is what she's providing him in between the sheets. Yeah, honey, you "loved" him all right! 

Lanval, himself, even says "If it pleased you, if such joy might be mine that you would love me, there is nothing you might command within my power, that I would not do." He wants the Magic Hoo-Hah and he'll do anything to get it. Typical. Further along, the poem even states, "He lay beside her on the bed; now Lanval is well cared for." YES. HE. IS. Get it, Lanval!

Maybe I'm missing a key element here or I'm just thinking too much into it. But with all of these stories, I'm not seeing what I think of love. I'm seeing this knock-off version liked by people who want to talk about the sexy-times but are too scared. 

Can somebody give me "the talk?"

Because I'm confused about sex. Well...sex in the context of Medieval Romance anyway. I was surprised when reading on The Art of Courtly Love that a fiery, passionate romance WITHIN a marriage was looked down upon by proper society and the Catholic Church. Well you see, I was brought up in a Catholic family (Irish-Catholic...so we can preach the morals and chug the alcohol at the same time) and I was always taught that a marriage was an appropriate place to experience your urges to the fullest. Not only does this not seem to be the case so far, but it seems that some of the texts encourage affairs.

So my reaction is...what? 

You have a marriage for propriety, and an affair for love, which messes up the marriage. So why don't you just allow for love within marriage and avoid the whole mess? 

Matthew (my tall husband) and I (his short wife) were discussing this while making Mexican food (if I could write my own book on courtly love it would probably be all about making food in general), and he seemed to think these rigid rules had something to do with control. But of what? Or whom? 

However, it seems that Equitan equates passionate love with marriage. Although the wife having an affair with her husband is presented as permissible, the king does desire to marry her so that they may stay together and continue expressing their love. The king seems to love his would-be-wife. 

So this leaves me...confused. And anyway, the Mexican food is ready.