Sunday, September 2, 2007

Implications of a Female Writer: Gender Roles as a Way of Creating Otherness

In the story of Yonec, we view a familiar trope in The Lais of Marie De France, namely that of a woman being imprisoned. Marie goes beyond the metaphor of a woman being imprisoned by her form and her role in the world, and goes on to have those prisons be real stone towers as opposed to just constructs of a patriarchal society. The wife of the old, jealous husband is locked up, kept from the church and her devotions to God, so that her only view of the world is a tiny window into which the tales of knights and ladies and courtly love sneak. In hearing that “ladies find lovers so handsome, courtly, brave, and valiant that they could not be blamed, and no one else would see them,” she wishes for such herself (Ln. 97-99). The idea of blame is very important, because she knows that her jealous husband holds her accountable for things which she could not possibly control: her appearance; her gender; the reactions of others to her. So that even though in her sadness she has “lost her beauty, as one does who cares nothing for it,” her lord believes that such is not the case, which is why her imprisonment continues (Ln. 47-48).

The lady wishes for love, and the story continues with that wish being granted in the most mysterious possible manner. Much like in Greco-Roman mythology, something happens that is otherworldly, supernatural. Zeus, king of the gods, was fond of taking on guises to seduce and impregnate mortal women who have been somehow trapped and locked away from the world. The most relevant example of this is the story of Leda, who is seduced by Zeus while he is in the form of a swan. The union of Zeus and Leda produces some of his most famous offspring, Castor and Pollux, Clytemnestra and Helen. The story of Leda is often called a rape, though whether out of a question of her willingness of ability to control the situation we do not know. Our lady in the tower is much the same, though we know of her willingness to have a loving affair, we also know that her ability to control such things is negligible. As the rest of the tale attests, the union of knight and lady also produces “famous” offspring.

When the hawk flies into her chamber and takes the form of a knight, she is at first terrified by the magic of the transformation and also at the appearance that her fondest wish had been granted. The knight makes a speech to put her at ease, and here is where Marie’s own femininity becomes merged with the language of her characters. Traditional Christian teaching suggests that original sin had its beginnings with Eve, that she as a woman, and therefore weaker and lesser than a man, gave into temptation, ate the forbidden apple, and convinced Adam to do the same, thus taking humanity from the garden into the harsh world outside. Women for generations after were held accountable for her actions, and being seen as weaker and more prone to the evils of temptation, were subjugated by virtue of the gender alone and held as second class versions of humanity, locked in their own bodies and homes by the men who were seen to have better judgment. Yet the lady, when this knight comes forth and proclaims his love and desire for her, regardless of her marital status, she agrees “to take him as her lover if he believed in God” (Ln.138-139).

These are not the words of a woman who quivers in the face of temptation, especially one which involves the receipt of her fondest wish. She holds strong to her beliefs in right and wrong, and the knowledge that if this mysterious act of transformation was at all possible, it is either the work of God or the Devil. But, if the man believes in God, then she should have no fear of entering into a relationship with him. The knight replies to this, saying, “I do believe in the creator who freed us from the grief that Adam, our father, led us into when he bit into the bitter apple” (Ln. 149-152). Generations of Christian morality has this role being assumed by Eve, not Adam, and here Marie reveals a philosophical technicality which, I believe, only a woman would dare construct. The implication of the knight’s, and therefore Marie’s, sentiment is that woman was tricked into eating the apple, but man used his free will to choose to do so. This suggests that it is worse to choose the wrong path than it is to stumble upon it. Marie is turning years of thought on its ear, making this woman, Eve, and through her all women, including ladies in towers, victims of poor judgment, and Adam and all men, guilty of evil choices. What woman, distraught or otherwise, would not be heartened to hear such a thing, especially from a man? Marie’s views support women while challenging the status quo of gender in her time, and beliefs that despite her suggestions to the contrary, will pervade society for many more years to come.

This begs two questions. First, it causes one to wonder if the knight is the agent of the Devil, saying the sweet words to once again tempt a woman into sin. This question is neutralized by the remainder of the tale, which shows that their love is indeed justified and serves to bring about Yonec, and through him the unification of people. The second, simpler and much more harmless answer, is that the man saying this just because he wants to seduce her, and thus justify their adultery using biblical arguments with which she could not possibly want to argue?

1 comment:

Ines said...

In light of your persuasive arguments on Marie’s attitude and challenges towards the notions attached to gender constructs, the woman in this particular story does support a negative and false notion associated with Eve or woman, reinforcing a female gender construct. One could argue that like Eve who is said to have led Adam, and is synonymous with temptation, the lady in this story leads her lover to his fall or death by telling him, ‘he could come now’ through her window at the end of the story. Eve, through Christian interpretation, labeled the woman as a temptress, as she who leads man into damnation through those notions attached to ‘temptation’ such as the ‘flesh,’ lust, and ultimately, sin. In Yonec, the Lady does this perhaps not so much as literally, but figuratively, and like Eve, she does not perceive the consequences of her actions. Yet, one could make the argument that the ‘fall’ or damnation was not caused necessarily by Eve, but when Adam ate the apple; in other words, the soul, Eve, and the spirit (Adam) consented to ‘sin.’ It was this union that led to the fall, and I liked how you pointed how Marie suggests it is worse to choose the wrong path than to stumble on it, but she is doing much more here. She is illustrating Eve’s and Adam’s consent when the lover enters after the Lady tells him ‘he could come now.’ In doing so, Marie is stating that the consequence of such a consent or union promises an even bigger doom or damnation for men in particular - the lover is dead at the end, and the Lady lives. Marie is playing with the notion that claims women have the power to engulf/damn men. At the same time, by instilling this power in the Lady she is challenging the false belief that women are subordinate (inferior, weaker, secondary, etc.) to men; this is another way she’s challenging the established gender constructs.