10.20.06
Marriage and Adultery in Courtly Literature Review 1
Creamer, Paul. “Women-hating in Marie de France’s Bisclavret.” The Romantic
Review. 93, 2002. 259-275.
Marie de France’s lay, Bisclavret, is difficult to understand due to the fact that its rather vicious portrayal of Lady Bisclavret does not seem to coincide with the sympathetic treatment of women found in Marie’s other lays. In his essay, “Women-hating in Marie de France’s Bisclavret Paul Creamer argues that this lay reveals a deep misogyny that is particularly disturbing due to the fact that Marie is a female author.
Creamer states that Bisclavret centers around three different creatures; man, woman, and werewolf. He goes on to assert that the female “being” is judged by one lonely representative; Lady Bisclavret. Therefore, all of woman-kind is condemned by the malicious behavior of a single character.
Creamer asserts that the relationships between these three different types of “beings” are defined by the categories of “woman vs. man,” ‘woman vs. men,” and “woman vs. beast.” Therefore in all three categories of relationship, woman is the “other,” or the evil opponent.
Creamer devotes a great deal of time to proving that Bisclavret in his animal form does not pose a violent threat to his wife. Instead, he argues that the true villain of the lay is the baroness. It is woman vs. man, in this case wife vs. husband. When she plots to steal her husband’s clothes and condemn him to an eternity in his animal state, the baroness is engaging in the malicious and unjustifiable sin of plotting harm against an innocent man.
Creamer then goes on to explain the lay’s portrayal of “woman vs. men.” He argues that the king’s kind, accepting treatment of Bisclavret in his animal form reveals Marie’s preference of brotherly love over married love.
The “woman vs. animal” aspect of Creamer’s argument is fulfilled when the animal Bisclavret attacks his wife, ripping off her nose. Therefore, in all three categories of interaction and dispute within the lay, the woman is the loser.
Creamer ends his examination of woman-hating in Bisclavret by making the vehement assertion that Marie de France was a woman-hater.
Creamer’s exploration of woman-hating in Marie de France is problematic. Though he finds adequate, well supported evidence for an exploration of woman-hating in Bisclavret, his argument can not extend beyond the parameters of that particular text. The notion of women hating finds no support in the context of Marie’s other lays, which are generally sympathetic to the everyday plights and trials of women. Perhaps Creamer’s argument would gain greater credence if he were able to offer a feasible explanation as to why Marie’s attitude towards women in Bisclavret is so drastically different from that of her other lays. In addition, as Creamer states in his essay, there is only one female character in Bisclavret. It is impossible to judge Marie’s attitudes towards women based on such a small sampling. In order to correct this deficiency, we must turn to Marie’s other lays in order to gain a proper appreciation of her portrayals of women. By doing so we discover that Marie is not a self-hating woman, but a writer whose works celebrate women in a revolutionary, foreword thinking way.
Personally, I believe that a more adequate answer to the problem of treatment of women in Bisclavret can be found by reading it through the lens provided by Sharon Kinoshita in her essay, “Royal Pursuits: Adultery and Kingship in Marie de France’s Equitan.”
Kinoshita argues that, on a simple level, Marie de France is unsympathetic to the lovers in Equitan because they plot harm to others. Therefore, on a straightforward and moralizing level, perhaps Marie de France is unsympathetic to the baroness in Bisclavret because of her harmful behavior towards her husband.
Creamer’s argument mirrors the reader’s initial reaction upon first reading Bisclavret. He provides a thorough catalogue of instances of woman-hating in Bisclavret. However, he never answers the essential question of why Marie de France’s lay seems so negative towards women.
Rebecca Harpine
University of Mary Washington
Marriage and Adultery in Courtly Literature: Review 2
Jost, Jean E. “May’s Mismarriage of Youthe and Elde: The Poetics of Sexual Desire
in Chaucer’s Merchant’s Tale.” Representations of the Feminine in
the Middle Ages. Academia Press, 1993. 117- 137.
Jean E. Jost’s essay examines the conflict between male and female sexuality apparent in Chaucer’s Merchant’s Tale, throughout which male sexual desire is privileged at the expense female sexual desire. Jost argues that May attempts (though ultimately fails) to take her revenge by asserting sexual agency and fulfilling her own sexual desires through an act of infidelity.
Through an examination of Januarie’s opening speech outlining his conjugal desires, Jost reaches the conclusion that Januarie’s decision to take a wife is motivated by sexual desire; he does not want a good wife, but a sexually appealing one. However, Jost identifies the flaw in Januarie’s plan; he does not consider that, as an older man, he might not be able to sexually fulfill a younger wife. Indeed, it soon becomes clear that he doesn’t care if the young May experiences sexual pleasure. His actions on his wedding night, methodically catalogued by Jost, are calculated to enhance his own sexual experience by any means necessary. He never considers the physical needs of his wife; she is the passive receptacle of his sexual needs. By treating May as a passively sexual being and valuing his own masculine sexuality over her feminine sexuality, Januarie robs her of sexual agency. Jost associates May’s lack of sexual agency with her lack of verbal agency.
Joss identifies the moment at which May reads Damien’s note as the pivotal turning point of the lay. Before May reads the note, she argues, she is entirely a passive being; but from that moment on she becomes increasingly active and assertive.
While May is an entirely passive partner in her marriage to Januarie, she becomes the active, dominant partner in her relationship to Damien. However, Jost argues that even in her relationship with Damien, May is denied sexual fulfillment by the return of her husband’s eyesight. Jost argues that this is due to the Merchant’s reluctance to admit and value female sexuality. May can not be allowed to fulfill her sexual dominance by sating her sexual desire with Damien, and so Pluto must intervene.
Jost’s exploration of the struggle for domination between male and female sexuality is skilled and well supported by textual evidence. Her argument that Januarie exerts his sexual desire at the expense of May can not be denied.
But I would argue that there are a few difficulties hindering Jost’s argument. First, she states that May exerts sexual dominance over Damien. It is true that May makes all of the arrangements to meet Damien in the garden. However, Damien is the instigator of their affair; May passively accepts his sexual attentions without a thought. This would lead us to believe not that May is the active sexual partner, but that she herself does not value her own sexuality. It seems that, for May, sex is something carelessly given to a man, not to be valued as a means of agency.
Further, Jost’s analysis would indicate that May and Damien are not successful in their affair. In my own reading, I interpreted the pear tree scene as an indication that May was pregnant, and that the child might be Damien’s.
My major objections to Jost’s analysis lie mainly in her reading of May as a would-be sexual conqueror. I have difficulty digesting the argument that May asserts her agency through her sexual deviation. First, it assumes that a woman’s power is only derived from her sexuality. Agency originating from corporeal revenge is no agency at all. I would argue that sexual power can only be derived from active sexual equality. Second, reading May as a sexually active character does not mesh with the fact that May has absolutely no verbal agency throughout the Merchant’s Tale. How then can the reader judge her actions on any terms? We rarely hear her speak, and more importantly, the narrator never describes to us her thoughts, emotions, or reactions to plot events. We hear of Januarie’s eagerness for conjugality and we observe his enraged reaction when he discovers May’s infidelity; in short, we are psychologically acquainted with him. Even Damien is given a psychological spotlight; we see his emotionality in his discourse with May. May herself, however, is a sadly flat character. Even after she reads Damien’s first love missive, and even after her husband accuses her of infidelity, she never betrays an emotion or reaction. May’s lack of agency is not surprising when viewed within the contextual frame of The Merchant’s Tale, which is narrated by a misogynistic man. I don’t believe that the notion of May’s sexual agency can exist without her verbal and physical agency.
Jost’s analysis of The Merchant’s Tale is one of the most interesting and successful I have read in the course of my research, despite my difficulty accepting the portrayal of May as a woman attempting to achieve sexual dominance over her husband.
Rebecca Harpine
University of Mary Washington
