Gender Politics in Lanval

On reading Lanval, I was struck by the ambiguous power relationships that exist in this text between the male and female characters, especially between Lanval and his nameless beloved. Throughout the story, dominance appears to shift from Lanval to his beloved and interestingly, the shifts appear to correlate with the shift between private and public spaces. During private moments, Lanval appears to be the dominant member of the relationship, as Marie de France tells us, “[Lanval] experienced great joy and pleasure, for day or night he could see his beloved often and she was entirely at his command”(75). Apparently, despite the fact that his beloved initially seeks him out, and despite the fact that the beloved demands a vow of silence, Lanval controls the time and frequency of private meetings. Moreover, Lanval’s “commands” most certainly carry a sexual connotation, suggesting that Lanval’s dominance primarily extends to sexual relations between the two.

The female beloved, however, appears to exercise dominance in the public arena. Marie de France tells us that the beloved’s own all-female court outshines Arthur’s in splendor and wealth: “They led him to the tent, which was so beautiful and well-appointed that neither Queen Semiramis at the height of her wealth, power and knowledge, nor the Emperor Octavian, could have afforded even the right-hand side of it…There is no king under the sun who could afford it, however much he might give”(74). (Side note: I think the notion of a gynocentric court is fascinating and deserves more attention). In addition to the beloved’s dominant surroundings, it is of course the beloved who has the power to save Lanval. By coming forth to display her beauty and to speak on the knight’s behalf, the beloved gains Lanval’s freedom: “They sent word to the knight and informed him that he should send for his beloved to defend and protect him”(79, emphasis mine). Interestingly, the female beloved takes up the traditional role of the masculine knight in order to save her lover, and in the final scene we read that Lanval takes a seat “behind” his beloved as she leads him out of the city on her palfrey.

While I think it would be a mistake to consider Lanval some type of proto feminist text (after all, the women are merely valued for their physical beauty, and the couple’s retreat into solitude suggests that Lanval will once again “command” in the private sphere), the relationship between Lanval and his beloved complicates our notion of Arthurian gender politics, and expands our notion of what was considered “male” and what was considered “female” in the early Arthurian tradition. I’d be interested to hear other’s options on the topic. Perhaps, the fact that Lanval’s beloved is a queen of some sort allows her to act both as subordinate lover and dominant ruler without contradiction? Thoughts?

Three is a Magic Number

First off, in “Culhwch and Olwen,” we meet Bwlch, Cyfwlch and Syfwlch, with “three gleaming glitterers their three shields; three pointed piercers their three spears; three keen carvers their three swords; Glas, Glesig, Gleisad their three dogs; Call, Cuall, Cafall, their three horses; Hwyrddyddwg and Drwgddyddwg and Llwyrddyddwg, their three wives; Och and Garym and Diasbad, their three grandchildren; Lluched and Neued and Eisywed, their three daughtes; Drwg and Gwaeth and Gwaerthaf Oll, their three maid servants” (Culhwch and Olwen 94-95). That was my first not-so-subtle tip-off that the number three might be of certain significance in these Welsh Arthurian legends. These groupings of threes fluctuate between rhyme and alliteration, devices that assist in remembrance (or at least grabbing the reader’s attention). Further, in “Arthur in the Early Welsh Tradition,” Bollard indicates that ancient Celts gathered information in groups of threes “as a means of classifying, remembering, and passing on a wide range of information and lore” (Bollard 23). The author sites specific examples of Welsh Triads, which primarily consist of “historic” names, events, and places. While Bollard provides no specific explanation as to why the Celts proffered everything from dogma to genealogy in groups of threes, I’m left guessing that the importance of triple-groupings stems from the Christian trinity. Then, I’m still puzzled over why a holy, sacred number would be used to group unholy, even pathetic things like “Three Faithless Wives” and “Three Futile Battles.” Perhaps three was special long before the Romans brought Christianity to the British Isles? What exactly is its significance and why (or am I just reading too much into this?)? The repetition and multiplication of the number three throughout “Culwch and Olwen” really struck me. For instance, Trefoils follow Olwen wherever she goes; there are third days, third attempts, and three more sons. Cei has his quirks: “nine nights and nine days his breath lasted under water, nine nights and nine days would he be without sleep” (Culhwch and Olwen 96). Nine, a number divisible by three, bestows super-human powers onto Cei. And, “on the third day Arthur himself fought [for] nine nights and nine days” (116).

This use of repetitive “three’s” carries through “The Dream of Rhonabwy” as well. Precisely three times, Olwein asks Arthur to call his men off the ravens, and then the plot shifts, the ravens attack the squires and Arthur asks Olwein – three times – to call the ravens off the men. Game over. I also wonder if it is more than a coincidence that while in the midst of his dream on the “yellow ox skin” Rhonabwy “slept three nights and three days” (The Dream of Rhonabwy 135).

So, is the third time, indeed, the charm?

Arthur falls from my mental pedestal

Since my knowledge of King Arthur et al. was --until this past weekend-- limited to watching Disney’s The Sword in the Stone when I was a child and a movie here and there in the interim, I thought it be wise to read Lancelot of the Lake before classes started. It was very helpful because it gave me a panoramic view of the Arthurian landscape, cleared up misconceptions and sparked some ideas that I hope might be helpful.
Before I read it I already knew about the Lancelot/Guinevere affair but I was very disconcerted when I read Arthur had one as well. I thought Arthur was exemplary in all ways, but as Dr. Wenthe pointed out in class, knights’ behavior leaves much to be desired (or something along those lines). In Lancelot you can see more episodes of Arthur as weakling/passive/insecure, and Queen Guinevere as scheming. Again, I was very taken aback by this as I had the preconceived idea that they would be, in general, idealistic stories and characters. Connected to this is the fact that the characters were so pious, constantly making reference to God, and of course, this text being read by a mostly Catholic audience (I suspect). It was strange that their honorability did not extend to their love lives.
This and other ideas generated by Lancelot, to be explored:
1- The state of Catholic Church in the 13^th century (when Lancelot of the Lake was written) or in the 12^th century in the case of Marie de France’s Lanval. How much were these stories a reflection of the times? Were they escape or mirror?
2- How were marriage/love/adultery viewed/experienced in the late Middle Ages? Arthur’s relationship with Guinevere seems more of a partnership than a love story, and Arthur doesn’t react to Guinevere’s thing with Lancelot (at least in this text). As the introduction to Lanval says Marie de France wrote both of adulterous and non-adulterous relationships. Who was reading these texts? Was Marie’s aristocratic audience (pg. 34) the same as Lancelot's author?
3- The importance of names: ignoring a name, changing name, withholding names, using descriptions to refer to people (descriptions that are preserved through an excellent network of word-of-mouth communication, such as “the knight who was victorious at the encounter”, the “White Knight”, etc. )
4- Information as currency. People get things done and obtain information through oaths to each other.
5- Extreme emotionality of some scenes. Characters fainting at any suggestion of tragedy and actually dying of sorrow.
6- Lancelot was raised in a lake but I missed how life was like in the depths of the lake, on the banks or on surface (???).

I’d also like to direct you to pages 51-57 where there is a very good description of what a knight should do and is expected of him

Lanval

Yesterday while we were discussing Lanval I made a comment that I felt Arthur to be a weakling and unprepared to take action against a knight that had allegedly slighted the Queen. It was counter argued that he was not a weakling but acting in good judgment by taking himself out of the decision and leaving it to his Barons since he was so emotionally involved. After reading the lai again (and another translation too; I wanted to see if anything differed) I retract what I said about Arthur being a weakling. He was not weak but as I believe Hannah pointed out he was a manipulator as well as being manipulated. He did not want to be looked down upon for any decision concerning Lanval since he knew it would cause great distress. Arthur often commands his lords to make to crucial decisions so as not to lose the favor of his knights and his people. Arthur, as most know, has the softest spot when it comes to his beloved Queen. In actuality she is the master manipulator. I know this lai is about Lanval but it interesting that Guinevere's flare for the dramatics has an appearance as it does in many of the Knights of the Round Table stories.

Just a side note-I called the Queen, Guinevere, since I can only assume that is correct. It is intriguing that the Queen is never called by name. Maybe Marie de France was ashamed of what Guinevere had done to Arthur...?

Welcome & Protocols for Posting and Commenting

Welcome to the online forum for continuing and extending the conversations and investigations conducted in the classroom for LIT 733.01: Arthurian Legends, a graduate course in the Department of Literature at American University in Washington, DC. I hope that this blog will enable all participants in the course to follow their individual Arthurian interests outside our time together in class while still benefiting from the support and critiques of their classmates. For that to happen, we'll need to cultivate a spirit of fellowship and shared enterprise that involves active reading and commenting on each other's posts as well as dedicated creation of our own posts. If our class is to emulate the Arthurian ideal in any way, let it be in the beneficial spirit of shared values that animate and give meaning to our more solitary pursuits (even if those pursuits are scholarly and artistic rather than martial or chivalric).

Ideally, an entry posted to this blog should both record an interesting thought on the part of its author and strive to provoke further thought on the part of its readers. An entry should be clear and concise, and when appropriate it should make use of the Web-based resources available to blogs (for example, links to specific other pages under discussion or to sites hosting texts or forums of interest, and images or clips that illustrate relevant points of interest).

Posts can vary in length. A paragraph can suffice, provided it offers a complete idea or raises an interesting problem in a fully intelligible way. But a post may also constitute a brief essay in itself, if you are moved to pursue the thread of a particularly interesting topic. Given the screen-based interface, however, you should avoid posting lengthy entries that would require scrolling down for more than a few screens. If you want to sustain an argument that's longer than that, you should really break it down into a series of separate posts. That will both ease readability and help to ensure that comments are focused on discrete points of interest.

As for the topics of your posts, all I ask is that they relate to the subject of our course. How they relate is up to you! You may choose to write a response to a current text under discussion, or you may prefer to continue an argument about a broader theoretical approach. You may also use this space to solicit feedback on your own research interests, or to explore other aspects of our topic that couldn't fit into our syllabus or in-class discussion. Reviews and recommendations of other texts (including articles and books of criticism) are also appropriate, but make sure to avoid mere plot summary or paraphrase—give your readers a sense of the work's value and tackle its claims.

The main purpose of these blog entries is to facilitate the exchange of ideas and information among participants in our class. The exchange can be as lively and as wide-ranging as you want it to be, as focused and as deeply-considered as you can make it, though it should always remain respectful and thoughtful, even at moments of disagreement or in attempts at humor (Monty Python and the Holy Grail is one of the best Arthurian films ever in part because it's so knowledgeable about the material it's spoofing). I expect that we'll all learn what posts work best by simply continuing to post, read, and comment regularly. I look forward to following the progress of our blog!