Thursday, September 24, 2009

1. Gawain gives a speech on pp. 326-327. What is the outcome of this speech (in other words, what does this speech accomplish, for better or worse)? How do you interpret the agreement Yvain then makes with Laudine? What kind of agreement is this? Would you want to accept such an agreement? Why or why not?

Gawain's speech appeals to Yvain's senses of logos, ethos, and pathos - he's like a miracle worker of rhetoric! In any case, he convinces Gawain to leave his wife behind in search of that glimmering ideal: adventure! Gawain convinces Yvain to accompany him and the rest of King Arthur's court back to Britain, in order to joust and fight and do other silly (yet violent) knightly things.

However lofty Yvain's goal in going out to re-make a name for himself (he's in the same boat as Erec, isn't he?), the underhanded way in which he goes about doing it bodes ill for a happy and timely reunion with his wife. Yvain already knows that Laudine won't like what he has to say - and that's why he, in effect, makes her sign a contract without reading it. Actually, the way he takes his leave here reminds me of the beginning of this tale, when Yvain left King Arthur's court ahead of everyone else, "having no desire for their company [and] set off alone, whether it might bring him joy or grief" (303). The refreshing thing about Yvain's character is that he is a complex mix of conventionally positive elements (chivalrous, brave, etc.) and unexpectedly sneaky, down-and-dirty ones - like his odd habit of leaving to go on a journey while leaving a bad taste in everyone else's mouth.

Personally, I would not be happy at all to be in Laudine's shoes - but I would also hesitate to agree to something before knowing at least some of what it would involve. People have common sense so that they can use it. So while I think it is a nice gesture that Laudine trusts Yvain enough to agree to his wishes before knowing what they are, the outcome of the situation shows that her trust is, unfortunately, misplaced.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

2. In this last passage of the text we witness an interesting event, we are told of the "death" of Erec and his later "rebirth", what does this mean? Why did Chretien choose to not only include this? Is there a deeper meaning? How does this event relate to the rest of the text?

I think that the "death" and subsequent "rebirth" of Erec symbolizes a death of one element of his personality - the completely image-driven, egocentric side of it - and a birth of another aspect of it - the more appreciative, humbler side of it.

Erec, as always, is a good enough knight to defeat the terrifying giants despite being outnumbered and already weak from his earlier injuries. However, when he collapses in front of Enide in a coma-like state, it is as if his superhero identity suddenly dissolves. As Erec's consciousness fails him, out goes his constant inner monologue acknowledging his own proud presence, and so too goes his physical prowess. In turn, his ability to fend for himself and to boss Enide around leave him as well. He is returned to an entirely helpless state, as though he were a baby, and he had better be thankful now that Enide loves him well enough to watch over him.

Returned to a formative state, this fetus version of Erec loses his pure masculinity - formerly one of his only defining elements. Reborn, Erec gains some femininity - as if Enide's selfless love for him has manifested itself in his unsuspecting body - and with it, the ability to see situations from multiple perspectives, not just his own point of view. For once he experiences "deep grief and anguish when he [hears Enide's] voice ... Wrath and the love he bore his wife made him bold" (96). For once he seems to have a real reason to fight. Later, when he fights the knight in the garden, Erec says, "One can speak folly as easily as wisdom. Threaten all you like, but I shall just keep silence, for there is no wisdom in threats" (109). Could this mean that he has looked back on his own threats to Enide (telling her to be quiet or else), taking into account her point of view of his unfulfilled remarks, and that he has now resolved to take a page out of her book? This openness to another's opinions is certainly a new step for Erec.

This death and rebirth also makes me think of Christ, killed on the cross and resurrected three days later. Chretien de Troyes, by having Erec undergo this miraculous event, cannot help but inspire in his audience images of Jesus. Could it be that Erec dies as a mortal - superficial, flawed, weak, and completely self-centered - and then is raised from the dead as an even larger-than-life (if at all possible) embodiment of his former self - ferociously gallant, handsome, and noble - but with a touch more humility, sympathy, and appreciation of Enide?

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Erec and Enide, Day 2

1. If the first part of the romance belongs to Erec, the second part most certainly belongs to Enide. How do we see her character emerging here? In what context do we finally get her name?

We finally get Enide's name when she marries Erec: "When Erec received his wife, she had to be named by her proper name, for unless a woman is called by her proper name she is not married" (de Troyes 62). This statement implies that a single woman had no need for a name, because she was not expected to do anything or accomplish anything. Without a name, it would be difficult for others to acknowledge a woman's possession or achievement: "That is Jill's cow" or "Mary planted that garden." However, in order to be married, a woman would have to be given a name, if only to determine her identity so that her husband would be able to claim her as his possession. This makes me think of the Biblical story of Jacob, who worked for his relative Laban for 7 years in order to win Laban's younger daughter Rachel as his wife. However, Laban put his older daughter Leah in Rachel's place on the day of the wedding (her face hidden by a veil so that Jacob wouldn't be aware of the deception). If those girls had been identified by their own names instead of by their father's, things would have turned out differently.


2. Enide also speaks for the first time in the text in this part of the romance. What are her first words? How do you interpret her speech? How does Erec interpret her speech? How do you explain his reaction? Why?

Enide's character emerges here as a woman concerned for her husband's status. Her first words are, "Wretch ... unhappy me! Why did I come here from my land? The earth should truly swallow me up, since the very best of knights ... [she goes on to praise him here] ... has completely abandoned all chivalry because of me. Now have I truly shamed him; I should not have wished it for anything." She seems concerned that Erec's followers are losing faith in him because he has been spending more time with her in the sack than out in the field making conquests and riding around on horses, sticking his lance into things. (One lance exchanged for another, I suppose!) I believe that her speech comes from a genuine place. After all, she is having a great honeymoon period with him (and he with her) - there would be no reason besides unselfishness to bring up other people's newly disappointed perceptions of Erec. In fact, she doesn't want to tell Erec the bad news for fear that it will "distress" him. Also, she blames herself for this flaw of Erec's. He would still be galavanting about if he weren't married.

Well, of course she is right. Erec interprets her speech as criticism and as an impetus to get out and go prove everyone wrong. To me, his train of thought goes something like this, "Those people think I'm good for nothing now, do they? Well, I'll prove them wrong! Road trip time!" Unfortunately, Erec is so caught up in loving himself and in being loved by others that he fears that losing the esteem of others means losing his place in the world as the golden boy, which is his very identity. Erec, the man who sees Enide as if looking at himself through a mirror, defines himself only by an image, by others' opinions of him - what the other knights and kings and noble ladies see. If he valued himself according to his own sense of self-worth and accomplishment, perhaps he would be able to shrug off the people's sinking opinion of him and simply revel in his happy lifestyle. As for Enide, Erec sees her as a trophy wife meant to reflect her husband's accomplishment. According to that position, Enide should fade in order to proportionally reflect the light from her husband's waning star. However, by being her usual wise self, she can't help but point criticism out to Erec, and by being her usual beautiful self, he can't help but see her as suddenly "better" than him.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

4. We are told the love potion has ‘worn off’ after three years. Describe the reactions Tristan and Yseult have regarding this fact. Why is this the case?

After the potion wears off, Tristan, who is hunting at the time, "instantly [begins] to repent." This repentance is full of complaining for his own "suffering," his lost material goods, his lost status at court, his poor relations with his uncle the king. Eventually he is done complaining about his own sorry state and turns his thoughts to how his actions have negatively impacted Yseut: "She is in the wood, and she could be living withe her servants in fine rooms hung with silken cloths." He resolves to reunite Yseut with Mark.

Meanwhile, Yseut goes through a similar mental process, bemoaning her own fate and blaming Brangain for giving them the potion. Eventually Tristan and Yseut explain their feelings to each other and decide to return to King Mark as knight and queen, respectively.

I think that Tristan and Yseut react the way they do - quite selfishly, initially - because no matter how angelically Beroul tries to paint them, they are still human - and humans always look out for themselves first. Then, after they complain about the holes they are in for a while, their noble natures return to them and they present the other person's misfortunes as a reason to do something about the issue. However, I don't believe that either of them wants to reconcile with King Mark for purely selfless reasons. After coming out from under the potion's thumb, the first elements life that they regret missing out on are material goods (silks, furs) and societal conventions (servants, ladies in waiting). This leads me to believe that they are not quite the perfect, flawless models that Beroul wants us to believe that they are.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Post 1: The Romance of Tristan, Parts 1-6

I'm responding to question 3:

"What does the text thus far have to say about the power of language and speech (truth, lies, fiction, fact)? What messages do we get from the text about these things? What specific scenes in the text lead you to these conclusions? (Related question: What might this have to say about the power of story-telling itself?)"

In this text, I noticed that everyone is taken at his or her word. King Mark believes the barons who tell him his wife and nephew are in an adulterous relationship; the Irish people believe Tristan when he tells them he is "a minstrel named Tantris"; the servants sent to kill Brangain believe her when she "answer[s] that her only misdeed was to lend Yseut a clean white tunic when Yseut's was soiled." However unbelievable, incredible, or blatantly untrue these comments are, I feel that they are nonetheless taken as fact by the people to whom they are spoken.

This unflinching belief and trust in the words of others leads to exciting plot developments, but it rather hinders character development. Where is the inner monologue of suspicion and second-guessing? Or did people truly say what they meant back in the Middle Ages? Today, people don't believe half the things they hear. "I read it on theinternet"; "My friend told me ..."; "I heard that ..." : these statements are no longer heard without some degree of reserve. So I wonder if the lack of sarcasm inherent in the verbal storytelling of ancient times is what makes characters believe what other people tell them.

Another instance of a lie taken as truth occurs when Tristan and Yseut talk under the pine tree. King Mark (who is hidden in the branches of the tree to spy on them) believes their fake complaints and goody-goodiness without any further suspicion. We the readers know that Tristan and Yseut are far from blameless, and it seems to be pure luck that they had the chance to mask their feelings with false words; if they hadn't each glimpsed King Mark's shadow on the ground, they would have carried on with their romantic tryst as usual. I think it is incredible that King Mark just eats up their facetious moaning and groaning (the sexual type of moaning and groaning exchanged for the pessimistic kind of moaning and groaning, I suppose - a little ironic). He is so easily swayed by words; not so much by sights. It is the blood on the bed and in the flour that ultimately convinces him to send Tristan packing.

Perhaps this text shows through example that we can trust our eyes but not our ears. After all, people can say that something is so, but they could just be making that up. Seeing something for oneself is more powerful because it requires more effort to actually move concrete objects around in order to create a scene. (I'm thinking of the flour here.)