Showing posts with label SGGK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SGGK. Show all posts

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Close Reading: Gawain Reveals His Moral

At the end of Gawain and the Green Knight, Gawain seems to be the only one making a fuss over his wound. Granted, this is a translation, but the author and translator must have been sensitive to the original language and patterns, so it seems safe that Marie Borroff has been faithful to the intent of the text. The language leading into the passage where he discusses this, as well as the discussion itself, bears a beautiful and rhythmic pattern which heightens the important of the moment. First the narrator begins the speech, with the lines:

The nick on his neck, he naked displayed/

That he got in his disgrace at the Green Knight’s hands, alone. /

With rage in his heart he speaks, /

And grieves with many a groan; /

The blood burns in his cheeks/

For shame at what must be shown. / (Ln. 2499-2504).

The alliteration of “nick,” “neck” and “naked” draws emphasis to the words, and in this particular order, instead of describing a nick on his naked neck, suggests something different, that the nick on his neck is a sign of weakness, making him appear naked and vulnerable (Ln. 2499). The lines have him displaying the wound to the others, but the implication is that the wound would be impossible not to notice due to what it represents to Gawain. The representation is made clearer with the assonance that occurs between the long “a” sounds in the words “displayed” and “disgrace,” equating the one with the other (Ln. 2499-2500). This assonance continues though the next lines to include the words “rage” and “shame,” so that we now are certain of Gawain’s restrained feelings, that he displays his disgrace with rage and shame (Ln. 2501, 2504).

There is more assonance that leads us through these lines of text, namely the links between the words “speaks,” “grieves,” and “cheeks,” so that it is clear that as Gawain chooses to discuss his feelings, he is mourning what he believes he has lost, and by the connection to his cheeks, we are left to imagine him blushing with humiliation and fury (Ln. 2501-2503). The words “speaks” and “cheeks” are at the end of their lines, structuring the four-line rhyming pattern of this smaller, off-set stanza. These words progress from his actions to his reactions, from his choosing to speak and publicly grieve and then the repercussions which affect him. The next pattern goes in the same way, with the assonance between “groan” and “shown,” words which are also at the end of their lines adding to the rhyming pattern, with Gawain’s actions of groaning and sharing his distress to the result that doing so shows his feelings to all (Ln. 2502,2504).

Then Gawain speaks, and the patterns continue to evolve, revealing more and more. Gawain says:

This is the blazon of the blemish that I bear on my neck; /

This is the sign of sore loss that I have suffered there /

For the cowardice and coveting that I came to there; /

This is the badge of false faith that I was found in there, /

And I must bear it on my body till I breathe my last. /

For one may keep a deed dark, but undo it no whit, /

For where a fault is made fast, it is fixed evermore. (Ln. 2506-2512).

Gawain began by calling his wound a nick, minimizing its size and its physical effect upon his body, yet now it becomes a symbol for something greater. He tells one and all that it is a “blazon,” “blemish,” sign,” and a “badge,” all words that are used less with wounds of honorable battle and more with ostentatious proclamations, flaws and imperfections, something that represents something else, and emblems (Ln. 2506-2507, 2509). This nick is much more than a scar to Gawain, it is no longer external, it has become a part of his identity, and who he has become as a result of his actions. Each line has its alliteration, so that the first of these lines is linked by “b” sounds, then “s,” “c,” “f,” “b,” “d,” and then “f.” This connects these words internally, so that the long string of these words together, blazon, blemish, bear, sign, sore, suffer, cowardice, coveting, false, faith, found, bear, body, breathe, deed, dark, fault, fast, fixed, summarize Gawain’s point effectively, listing causes, actions, choices, and results.

The poet is not done with creating intricacy, however, as seen in the three lines that all end with the word “there.” This is not done to accomplish any rhyming pattern, and it does not indicate a distinct metric pattern any more than we have seen throughout the text as a whole, but the repetition of there, there, there, has significance. The “theres” are all directed at the same place, the Green Chapel, the place where the battle occurred and where Gawain lost an essential part of himself. Gawain uses it to mean the place, but it also means the point at which he found himself in that location, as well as an interjection used to express strong feelings. While the text only uses it as a locator, the rest of these meanings are implied with the repetition. Gawain has found distance from there, but those moments remain a distinct and troubling memory. Finally, there is another internal structure which again tells the story in a more succinct manner, a series of two monosyllabic words found in the center of some lines which rhythmically force themselves to be accented and emphasized. These are “sore loss,” “false faith,” “deed dark,” and “made fast,” which serve to, much as the alliteration did before, to stress the important parts of Gawain’s speech, the lessons he has learned that his audience is meant to understand (Ln. 2507, 2509, 2511-2512).

Even though both Gawain and the poet take their time and use the language to make their points as clear as possible, to heighten and illustrate the significance of this life-altering encounter, the audience does not seem to notice. Reading closely, we learn that Gawain, a knight of a certain reputation and fame, is no longer the Gawain with whom we are familiar. He is changed permanently. To mark this change, however, instead of honoring the wound and its symbolic meaning, they honor the thing which made the wound, the change, possible. Without the girdle, Gawain would have died, and not learned anything or have been able to express and live out the new him, so the court takes to wearing green sashes. Does this appropriately honor Gawain’s transformation or does it make a mockery of the moment where he made what he seems to think was a decision based on “false faith?” We know exactly what Gawain is saying, but what is the court saying by their actions?

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

The Elephant in the Kitchen: Homoerotic Desire in Gawain

You might have noticed the homoeroticism present in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. You know, if you have eyes. What's interesting to me, however, is the role that the ladies play in enabling and conducting the homoerotic and homosocial play between the male characters.

To me, the first instance of homoeroticism is not the first kiss but the first meeting between Gawain and the Knight.

"Now hold your grim tool steady
And show us how it hacks.'
'Gladly, sir; all ready.'
Says Gawain; he strokes the ax.

The Green Knight upon ground girds him with care;
Bows a bit with his head, and bares his flesh;
His long lovely locks he laid over his crown,
Let the naked nape for the need be shown"
(25)

The first section, in Borroff's translation as well as Tolkein's, read like flirting. There is a give and take between The Knight and Gawain. The words are measured out and the cadence of the two lines indicates a kind of flirting. There's also the instance of the highly sexualized word choices of "tool" and "strokes."

Moving on, The Green Knight is feminized with his "long lovely locks." To top that off, in order to lay them over his crown, wouldn't he have to be bent over? He's also aligned with his wife, who is the only other character in the poem to bare her flesh - "her fair throat freely displayed" (56)

But how does a woman enable this behavior? This entire act is done for the benefit of Guenevere; one man to scare her and one man to defend her honor. More on this in a moment.

I'm going to gloss now over the kissing scenes because I think the sexualized nature of them is fairly obvious. In short, Gawain kisses the Knight because The Knight's Lady kissed him. The Lady is the conduit for the desire of Gawain and the Knight, as well as being the desire-object for both of the characters. In short, they are a love triangle. In the words of Eve Sedgwick "in any erotic rivalry, the bond that links the two rivals is as intense and potent as the bond that links either of the rivals to the beloved." (Between Men, 21)

What part do Guenevere and The Lady play, then? They are the mirror that reflects the men's desire for each other. Without the women to form that triangulated bond, the men probably couldn't make a spectacle of their homoerotic desire. At least, according to queer theory.

A Legacy of Ashes: Being a Discussion of the Self

A book came out earlier this year entitled Legacy of Ashes: A History of the CIA. What does this have to do with Sir Gawain and the Green Knight? Nothing, except that I was randomly reminded of the title of this book by SGGK's opening (and, by extension, closing) lines, and that applying the concept embedded in the CIA title to the medieval poem on this basis yields some illustrative results for the poem and its construction of the self and the other.

"Since the siege and the assault was ceased at Troy, / The walls breached and burnt down to brands and ashes..." (1-2). "Since" translates the Middle English "sithen," which (I am using the glossary in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: A New Critical Edition, edited by Theodore Silverstein) is used elsewhere in the poem in a causal sense, that is, "since" as "because" as well as "after." In other words, we might add a secondary interpretation to these opening lines: the story recounted in this poem occurs not just after but because Troy was destroyed.

This introductory section contextualizes Gawain and his story as part of a legacy of ashes - the ashes of Troy. While providing a noble and justificatory lineage for Camelot, the beginning of the poem also grounds that lineage upon a primordial catastrophe, upon undoing and failure, and it only slightly minimizes this catastrophe and failure to learn that it occured because of one perfidious knight "that had knotted the nets of deceit" (3). Besides establishing the poet's recurrent obsession with knots and entanglements, this also foreshadows Gawain's personal lapse and failure at the hands of another sly and subtle (if not explicitly deceitful and perfidious) figure, the Green Knight/Bertilak. The "haughty race" (5) of Trojans that conquers far and wide is also a race of exiles (castaways, Others!) needing reaffirmation and rearticulation of its identity. The new kingdom which they found has always seen a combination of "war and wrack and wonder," "bliss" and "blunder" (16, 18). In short, by starting from the ashes of Troy and the legacy originating there, SGGK acquires its dominant theme of mutability and failure. The poet further highlights this theme in the gnomic aphorism at the beginning of Part II (to which I have already called attention in an earlier posting), warning us to "hold it no wonder" if "the end be harsher" than we had anticipated, because "[a] year passes apace, and proves ever new: / First things and final conform but seldom" (496, 498-499).

Specifically, the mutability and failure which will be demonstrated in the poem is that of Gawain. As J.J. Cohen makes clear in his discussion of SGGK in the excerpt from Of Giants, the poem describes Gawain's maturation, his acquisition of a new identity by exile (like the refugees from Troy) and confrontation with the Other - and this new identity will be rooted in a lapse and a sense of unworthiness. In fact (as I've also already noted) when Gawain first speaks in the poem, he is already espousing such sentiments about himself. We asked in class the other day whether Gawain really intends to be honestly self-deprecating, and I think the answer is quite clear that he doesn't, at least not entirely or primarily. He is attempting to demonstrate the elaborate courtesy upon which his identity, at this point, is in fact founded. The Green Knight takes pains, when accepting Gawain as his contestant, to establish this identity: "First I ask and adjure you, how you are called / That you tell me true, so that trust it I may" (379-380). Gawain obliges - "In good faith...Gawain am I" (381) - and, in response to Gawain's reciprocal request, the GK promises, "when I have taken your knock, / ...you shall hear straightway / Of my house and my home and my own name" (406-408). However, after the "knock" this promise is fulfilled, at best, partially: the GK discloses neither a proper name nor a real "home." Obviously, if the GK gave everything away right now we would have no story, but his incomplete and opaque revelation of who he is seems to match an incompleteness or a dishonesty in Gawain's own account of himself.

The poem proceeds to test this unstable and artificial sense of the selfhood of Gawain. Before he leaves Camelot, his squires arm and equip him in a detailed scene, and at the risk of sounding obsessive and repetitive in these blog posts, I want to underline again how wearing armor connects with the display and delineation of the self. "Closed," "enclosed" in his armor, Gawain is sealed up in a mission and an identity, and the external, physical rigidity of this identity seems to be directly proportional with its internal fragility. Most explicitly, Gawain carries his shield displaying the pentangle, "[t]hat was meet for the man, and matched him well" (622). This shield advertises the array of perfections which currently represent Gawain's sense of himself. But how well it really outlines and embodies his identity is an open question.

In the materialistic (and implicitly artificial) environment of Hautdesert, the denizens of the castle remove this self-advertising shell: "With light talk and laughter they loosed from him then / His war-dress of weight and his worthy clothes" (860-861). Finding that he "is Gawain himself" (906), they then publicize (or invent?) his reputation as "pattern and paragon, ... praised without end: / Of all knights on earth most honored" (913-914). An identity in accordance with the one represented by the pentangle is now fashioned and determined for Gawain, in a process prefigured by the elaborate rituals of dressing and accomodation described previously; Gawain is being "costumed" as a specific "Self" and must now fulfill it, act the part.

This requires more of Gawain than just hoisting a shield, and he knows it. Lying naked in bed in an unfamiliar castle rather than riding in full armor on a horse would make anyone feel less sure of herself, and Gawain evinces a more honest awareness of the fragility of his identity than was contained in his self-deprecatory declamations back at Camelot when he responds to the Lady's "as certain as I sit here, Sir Gawain you are" (1226) with, "I am not he of whom you have heard" (1242). Henceforth, the Lady repeatedly reaffirms that Gawain's self-definition is what really lies at stake in their encounters: "our guest is not Gawain" (1293); "if you be Gawain" (1481). The hunting excursions interlaced with the bedroom temptations, with what J.J. Cohen calls their "scenes of dismemberment and bodily disaggregation" (147), also underline the stakes of the testing at Hautdesert. Even the briefest and least gory of these episodes ends with the fox "Sir Reynard" (the fact that the third animal hunted is given a chivalric proper name connects him with Gawain even more directly) being skinned, his inner fragilities revealed to the world. Finally, this consciousness of physical fragility established by Bertilak's hunting, the awareness that identity consists not just of courteous reputation but of flesh and blood, sets up the terms of Gawain's ultimate lapse, in which he sacrifices some of his ideals for the sake of self-preservation because, as Bertilak puts it, "you loved your own life: the less, then, to blame" (2368).

Less, but still not no blame at all, particularly in Gawain's own mind. His final actions in Hautdesert repeatedly betray a self-consciousness of having violated both chivalric hospitality and his own self-definition. He initiates the gift exchange on the third evening, possibly to forestall any suspicion; he passes an evidently sleepless night; he elaborately praises Hautdesert, while leaving it, as "a household in hall that upholds the right" (2052); and as he rides off, "[h]is shield is shown forth" (2061), reminding all the world and himself of the values of which his identity has fallen short. Gawain repeats this self-affirming gesture during his final encounter with the GK, when, after enduring the third ax-blow (and falling short of knightly perfection one more time by flinching from the first strike), he "[s]eized his high helm, and set it on his head, / Shoved before his shoulders the shield at his back" (2317-2318). Upon learning that the GK is really Bertilak and that he is well aware of his lapse, Gawain's first reaction is to externalize his now-compromised sense of selfhood - "In you is villainy and vice, and virtue laid low" (2375) - but as Bertilak absolves him, he begins to come to terms with an identity rooted in weakness and imperfection and enacts this development by lowering his armor: "the doughty knight...doffed his high helm" (2407).

This encounter at the Green Chapel marks the culmination of what I have called SGGK's "legacy of ashes" stretching from the fall of Troy. In fact, the poet subtly reemphasizes the Trojan connection at the beginning of the episode by having Gawain's guide describe the GK as "bigger than the best four / That are in Arthur's house, Hector or any" (2102-2103). Just as the beginning of the poem linked the identity of Camelot to this history of destruction and exile, so Gawain now constructs a similar history for his own identity. His litany of biblical heroes betrayed by women is not just a misogynistic screed; in it, he formulates a lineage for his new sense of himself, identifying precedents for his awareness of mutability and moral compromise. Gawain follows this construction of a history with the construction of a new signifier for his identity: not the now-inappropriate pentangle, but the girdle itself: "a sign of excess it shall seem oftentimes / .... / A look at this love-lace will lower my pride" (2433, 2438). Lastly, he repeats his request from a year earlier, back at Arthur's court: "How runs your right name?" (2443) Previously, the GK withheld this in part because Gawain was subconsciously withholding his own real identity. Now that Gawain has fully articulated a new/alternate self, the GK can completely reveal his new/alternate identity in turn: "That shall I give you gladly... / Bertilak de Hautdesert, this barony I hold" (2444-2445).

In the final irony of the poem, Gawain, returning to Camelot, finds that his personal signifier, the marker of his new identity, cannot be interpreted in the same way by his chivalric peers. Instead, they appropriate it with a totally different meaning, once again vesting Gawain with an external and artificial definition of who he is, just as was done to him initially at Hautdesert. However, by returning us explicitly to Troy and its legacy of ashes, the poem intimates that this may not be all bad. "Many such, ere we were born, / Have befallen here, ere this" (2527-2528). "Sithen" Troy was burned to ashes, lots of things have gone wrong. To fail, to be mutable and imperfect, is to be human; Gawain is not at all unique in that regard. Therefore, maybe it's good that he cannot keep his singular, individual definition of private shame. Like Beowulf (who also habitually admitted his failures and personal dissatisfactions to a similarly oblivious audience), Gawain ends up, through confrontation with the Other, as a human being: himself.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Factoring in Morgan le Fay

I want to attempt to look more in-depth to the women in this poem. In the first two sections of the story, women seem to be backgrounded, and the main stage seems to be dominated by Gawain and the Green Knight. In the last two sections of the story, we see a foregrounding of women and the deception that has been carried out in this poem. We need to take a closer look into the women in this story, since they are the main reason for the ensuing actions.

The first woman who needs to be dealt with is the lady of Haudesert, Lord Bertilak’s wife. Though she is never provided a name, she is provided the power to seduce Gawain into giving her a kiss. However, at the end of the story, Lord Bertilak reveals, “the wooing of my wife-it was all my scheme” (line 2361)! Though the lady seemed to have control over Gawain, Lord Bertilak had the power over her. Thus, the woman was a tool for deception to Gawain.

Then we come to the existence of Morgan le Fay. Lord Berilak/Green Knight admits that he was under a spell by “Morgan the Goddess” (line 2451). Now we see that the entire plan was actually under the control of a woman, and Lord Bertilak/Green Knight was not a free agent. This particular woman is Gawain’s “own aunt is she, Arthur’s half-sister” (line 2464). This fits in well with Max’s claim that the other is actually an unrecognized form of the self. This pagan woman is actually blood related to the king, yet holds alternate traits. Unlike the king, she is aged and has the pagan attribute of being a goddess. What’s even more fascinating is the reason this entire plan was carried out. Lord Bertilak admits, “She put this shape upon me to puzzle your wits, / To afflict the fair queen, and frighten her to death” (lines 2459-2461). This disguise as the horrid Green Knight was to scare Guenevere. In one of Marie’s footnotes, she explains that Morgan le Fay and Guenevere were enemies. This could possibly be the neglected royalty that has been ignored for Morgan le Fay but placed upon Guenevere. Surprisingly, the two women who are least seen in this story are suddenly foregrounded to be to main reason for the events at hand.

The use of Morgan le Fay in this text is intriguing, since she is rarely seen. Her ancient appearance, her use of magic, and femininity seem to provide reason to name her both ‘monsterous’ and an ‘other.’ This being said, it seems to provide her control over the entire story as compared to Guenevere, who is simply a feminine ‘other.’ Morgan le Fay is able to wield her power over men affectively and “she has caught many a man” (line 2448). Morgan le Fay is a black widowed spider, and is able to ensnare others with her femininity and magic. Morgan le Fay’s exertion of her power may have been motivated to show Guenevere that though she is queen, Morgan is a force to be reckoned with. The ending to this story seems to turn the table around and leads us to question which gender dominates in this poem.

Please note: I hadn't read the articles by Cohen and Arner before posting this blog. Now that I have, I see they have pointed out some of the ideas I blogged about. Nonetheless, there is still much to discuss concerning the feminine power in this story.

Monday, October 8, 2007

Gawain's Passivitiy

I know we’ve discussed this in class, but I would like to further explore Sir Gawain’s courtesy. From what we can gather from the texts, both the assorted Gawain Romances and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Gawain’s strength nor his valor are well praised. Rather Gawain’s reputation for being courteous is what sets him apart from the other knights. His courtesy, to some extent, elevates him beyond other knights. However, his courtesy is so extreme that it deviates into the realm of passivity.

Although Arthur is described first in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight as the superlative, “of British kings / King Arthur was counted most courteous of all,” (Green Knight I: 25-26) Gawain emerges as the most courteous of the knights. When he asks to take part in the challenge, Gawain does not demand that he be allowed to take the challenge. Instead he asks for Arthur to “grant [him] the grace,” (Green Knight I: 343) which implies that his courtesy doesn’t allow him to act on his own accord. While the idea to accept the Green Knight’s challenge originates with Gawain, his extreme courtesy dictates that he be allowed by his liege lord and lady to undertake a knightly endeavor.

The other telling part of Gawain’s plea to Arthur is his insistence that he not offend anyone. He says that he will only leave the table so long as his actions do not affront a single person in the court. “If I without discourtesy might quit this board, / and if my liege lady misliked it not.” (Green Knight I: 345-346) Despite the obvious difference in standards of cultural decorum, Gawain’s courtesy goes far beyond the realm of any normal person. The obsessive attention to every possible offense he could commit is what makes Gawain a passive, slightly pathetic character at this point in the poem.

However, nothing tops Gawain’s request to take on the Green Knight. Gawain knows of his knightly deficiencies: “I am the weakest, well I know, and of wit feeblest;” (Green Knight I: 354) So, it follows that Gawain is offering to sacrifice himself in order to rid the court of his offensive presence. “And the loss of my life would be least of any” (Green Knight I: 355) Despite Gawain’s obvious need for a touch of self-esteem, it speaks to his Otherness that everyone in the court agrees. Their agreement seems to say that Gawain’s life is worth the least. He is the weakest and stupidest knight in the court. Either the court “assays the claim” because they know Gawain can triumph against the Green Knight and his ridiculous challenge or because they think he won’t and will be glad to be rid of him.

Unlike some of our other heroes, Roland or Beowulf, Gawain’s exceptionalness others him in the opposite direction of hyper-male. The denial of his dominant masculinity is why I feel we find him in the company of so many women. He is closer allied with womanly values of submission, even if those actions are an extension of his loyalty. The position Gawain occupies within the romantic encounters, both with Ragnelle and the lady of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, is not of initiator. He is notably passive to women, simply by virtue of being courteous to the point of excess. Although, any knight taking one of the five virtues to its most extreme state could be considered an Other. However, in Gawain’s case, his consistent defaulting to the wishes of his lord and to ladies makes him less of a hyper-male and more of an effeminate man.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

The Intertwine of Christianity and Paganism

I find this story to have one of the most complicated characters in the form of the Green Knight in relation to his allegiances. In fact, he seems to tread the border between Christianity and Paganism. He is completely green and it seems to indicate his affiliation with nature and the link to pagan beliefs. He also holds a holly bob in his hand, a symbol of his devotion to nature. And yet intertwined in his hair is gold. This also is found inlaid in parts of the armor and axe. This gold seems to be connected to Christianity and nobility since so far everyone has been so adorned. Also the Green Knight is in fact a knight. The narrator and the reaction of the court seems to support this fact. He is treated as nobility and in relation to that as a Christian. And yet he is otherworldly, superhuman in physical terms and spiritually supernatural as he survives the beheading. I find his appearance during the Christmas celebrations to also be indicative of his challenge towards Christianity. It is after all among the greatest Christian holidays and he decides to challenge the court during it's celebration in an especially rude way.

Following his departure, I find the passing of the seasons to be caught up in this struggle. I find it interesting that nature's cycle during the year is described as transformation. The trouble is taken to personify the natural world as alive. And yet it also seems as though Christian beliefs applied to this transformation when "the cold cheer of Lent" leads into the year and "Michaelmas" leads to Gawain's exit from the court (502, 532). In fact, he even leaves on All Saint's Day, a celebration of the dead saints. The bookending of nature's yearly cycle by Christian holidays wraps up this weird intertwining of religions. I also find it ironic that All Saints Day is when Gawain sets off with little hope in his or anyones heart of returning. Mayhap he'll be celebrated in the next year?


I feel this battle of faiths to continue on Gawain's journey. Even before he set's off he his encased in armor beautiful and protective and affixed with the finest gold, as mentioned numerous times. The gold and emphasis on protection, knightly values and the shield with all its allusions to Christian faith appear to form almost a suit of God's armor. He ends the encasing with a prayer for safety and success which again reestablishes the connection of Gawain to God and even declares, "In destinies sad or merry, True men can but try," which seems to indicate that he leaves his fate in God's hands and that he will simply do his best (564-565).

The fight continues even on his travels as it seems all of nature conspires against him including all man of creatures from wolves and wild men to the cold itself. He fights on through wilderness that seems to have sprung up adversely following his departure from the safety of the Christian court. And yet it seems that Christianity does not abandon him in need as per his prayer a place for mass in the form of a castle is provided him, and yet I still question the validity of the castle as we head into Part 3. I think it will be interesting to see how the struggle between these to forces will play out, and I will be equally interested in the character of the Green Knight to see if he is truly as intertwined as I find him to be so far.

Maybe It’s Just Me: The State of Women Thus Far

We keep coming across this same basic description of many of the women in these tales, and I begin to wonder if there is more to it than just a male-centric (misogynistic?) social construct. Almost without fail, when we encounter a woman with enough status to bear description, we see her in one of two places, both of which are strikingly similar. She is either borne on the back of a finely-arrayed and obviously costly mount, or finely-arrayed on the dais. These locations are meant to instantly impart to the reader a sense of the woman herself, in that she is important enough to have a description and that description places her in a position close to one of power.

We saw this in the Lais and the story of Ragnelle, where the woman in question is mounted on a horse. This horse and its trappings define the status of the woman visually, but imply the status of their man. Yes, she has a beautiful horse with all the trimmings, but who gave it to her? Another way of asking this question is, as a woman is still socially deemed as chattel, who owns this pretty trinket? Women serve their function first as the lady of some great man, as the chatelaine of his home and the mother of his heirs. It is with notable exception that the women appear as something other than a possession. In the Lais, some of the ladies were arrayed beautifully to indicate that they were somehow enchanted or blessed, as in the tale of Lanval, where the worth of the woman proves that she is an eligible and worthy partner for a knight by virtue of her beauty, and the beauty which surrounds her. Lanval’s lady appears before Arthur in such a show of wealth that he cannot argue her claims. This is not because he is struck dumb by the sight of her loveliness; this is because she is carrying her dowry with her, making it clear that whoever she is, she is of quality, and there may be unseen ramifications for challenging her (such as the appearance of her obviously well-placed male sponsor). In the tale of Ragnelle, her wealth is displayed not only to counteract her initial visage, but to indicate that, whatever may have happened with her step-dame and brother, her reputation and dowry are intact, thus making her eligible instead of outcast.

In Beowulf, Wealtheow reigns from the high table, the position of her power as lady of the lord. As she is married, her dowry taken and used, she no longer needs to be decked in costly trappings. Her sense of worth to her husband and people is now determined by what she is allowed to say and do. Wealtheow can speak her mind, issue challenges, and bestow great gifts without any obvious textual repercussions to indicate she has overstepped her bounds. Grendel’s mother is much the same in her own home, though the difference is that there is no longer a lord there to determine where the money is spent, and she is surrounded by a trove of the expensive and priceless. Grendel’s mother is also the head of the household, speaking from her position as both lord and lady, as both mother to a child and ruler of a powerful champion. In Gawain and the Green Knight, we see Guenevere following in their footsteps. She is “on a dais well-decked and duly-arrayed/ with costly silk curtains, a canopy over, / of Toulouse and Turkestan tapestries…the best gems/ ever brought into Britain, with bright pennies to pay” (Ln. 75-80). Arthur’s queen is dressed and displayed in such a way to show his power, and his power over her. Arthur can control this beauty, afford to dress her finely, and this indicates his own standing. Not only can he afford to and chooses to do it, he is not dipping into the funds of her dowry to accomplish it, rather he is importing goods from other conquests and other lands to add to her scenery. This image calls to mind the altar of a church, where the Virgin Mary is finely dressed and surrounded by richness to indicate her status through that of her Lord. Yes, in that instance, she has assuredly earned the trappings on her own merit as well, but in this manner she, and Guenevere, stand as the symbol of femininity and beauty, and because of who they are related to, necessarily also representing virtue and compassion. The lady of the house is also in charge of ministering aid to the people, viewing them as her responsibility, so that she is not just a pretty ornament, but also a functioning person with a job to do. She does this, at meals and social functions, by being on the dais, above all the others, but still servant to them as she is to her husband.

But here, Guenevere is given an added distinction. The “fair queen, without a flaw,/ she glanced with eyes of grey” (Ln. 81-2). At this point in the semester, I bet everyone anticipates that I am going to link her gray eyes with the most famous of gray eyes, those of the goddess Athena. This minor detail may add a new level to Guenevere, as now she is not just chattel and a figurehead, she has been linked to wisdom and so we can infer that she must have some of her own.

The Green Knight’s Otherness

In, “Sir Gawain and The Green Knight,” the ‘unknown rider’ does not fulfill our working definition of the monstrous. On page eighteen, we are provided with a lengthy physical description of the Green Knight that may lead us to believe he is monstrous: he is an ‘unknown rider,’; ‘from broad neck to buttocks is so bulky and thick’; ‘half a giant on earth’ he seems; and not only possesses a ‘green hue,’ but is bedecked in green armor (‘guise’ and gear’). The Green Knight seems to exist at least momentarily as a monster not only because of his physicality, but because he is ‘unknown.’ He possesses attributes of a man, yet, he is a man no one in King Arthur’s court has ever seen before, does not reveal his name or identity right away (page 24), and the place where he resides, the Green Chapel, has never been visited by anyone in Arthur’s court. Also, similar to the other monsters we’ve encountered in previous readings he has ‘red eyes,’ and exhibits a similar hostility or rage we’ve seen characterize the Beowulf monsters; this reinforces a monstrous element within him. Yet, the Green Knight possesses not only a monstrous element, but a noble, and divine element as well that I believe pushes him towards fulfilling the ‘other.’

The Green Knight is a ‘noble warrior’ or ‘lord’; half of his name implies this. One could even argue that he possesses ‘beauty,’ something we’ve never attributed to the ‘monstrous.’ In the description on page nineteen the Green Knight’s hair (locks), the ‘trim hose’ along his shoulders, the ‘gold spurs fastened to his heal by silk bands,’ his ‘well fashioned foot gear,’ the ‘bosses on his belt,’ and ‘gems richly ranged’ on his clothing and saddle, speak to his nobility, and the wealth that he possesses. At the same time, the Green Knight is associated with the beauty that adorns him; he is simultaneously ‘unknown,’ monstrous to a degree because of his green hue, noble, and beautiful. Possessing such a mix of attributes or characteristics transforms him into an ‘other,’ and pushes him towards a spiritual realm.

On page nineteen, the Green Knight becomes associated with butterflies, marking him as a figure symbolic of transformation; this also, I will venture to say, possibly foreshadows his literal and figurative transformation. Also, he is associated with birds who are said to be divine manifestations, the spirits of the dead, and are symbolic of the ‘ascent to heaven.’ Here, the Green Giant gains a religious significance where he can promise both death and life. When Gawain decapitates him, the Green Knight rises, still alive, and tells Gawain to meet him at the Green Chapel on the next ‘New Years Morn.’ Here, he is quite literally embodying life and death; figuratively, he promises both to Gawain for his fate is in the Green Knight’s hands. In light of Green Knight’s association with butterflies, he is not only promising Gawain life or death, but transformation. Let us hope that when Gawain meets the Green Knight for the second time, that he undergoes a figurative transformation, or better said, dies figuratively. With all of these elements in mind, the Green Knight does appear to be, to a degree, a divine manifestation. He is described as both ‘phantom’ and ‘fairy,’ and gains an almost mystical or ‘marvelous’ quality that works to ‘other’ him because he is simultaneously separated from the monstrous, and associated with it. The ugliness/monstrous element coupled with the ‘beauty’ earlier associated with the Green Knight reinforces the divine element he possesses, for it illustrates him, one could argue, as a subliminal image.

It will be interesting to hear what the class has to say about the chivalry The Green Knight exhibits, and whether or not, they think his conduct establishes him as a monster or not. None the less, the Green Knight possesses so many contradictions ( rage and peace (page 21), life and death, ugliness/monstrous and beauty) that associate him with the divine, and establish him as an ‘other’ within this story.

The Two Worlds in Sir Gawain

As discussed in last class regarding "The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle," there are two distinct worlds in the text. The world of the court and that of the wood. In the tale of "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight," these seperate worlds also exist. The green world, where the mysterious Green Knight resides and the world of Arthur's court.

The tale begins in Arthur's court during Christmas time. "For the feast was in force full fifteen days" (p.16, 44). The court is celebrating, yet it seems to be a little excessive. The world of the court is centered around the "material." The guests are bickering over their gifts. There are "twelve dishes before each pair; Good beer and bright wine both" (p.18, 128-129). This is also the world of court, order, and custom. When the Green Knigth abruptly puts the feasting on hold, Arthur stands up and welcomes him "as behooved" (p.21, 251). Moreover, although he is hesitant Arthur accepts the challenge given to him by the Green Knight. However, Gawain comes to the King's aid, as he knows he should. "I am the weakest, well I know, and of wit feeblest; And the loss of my life would be least of any; That I have you for uncle is my only praise; My body, but for your blood, is barren of worth; And for that this folly befits not a king" (p.23, 354-358). It is also only possible in this world to make and take such an oath as proposed by the Green Knight.

On the other hand, the Green Knight comes from the natural world. This is the green world, outside the city, where there are no strict laws and regulations. It is here, outside the world of chivalry that such adventure can take place. The Green Knight's otherness is apparent as soon as he enters the court. He is a knight "in guise of green, the gear and the man" (p.18, 151). Green can immediately be associated with this natural world.

Green has also been associated with envy in literature. Jealousy for a world outside custom. While Gawain is apprehensive to leave the world he knows, that of Arthur's court, there is a longing to leave this world behind and find adventure.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Unattractively Monstrous

Since the class discussion today grazed the topic of the similarities of the ancient lady in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and Ragnelle, I thought I’d further expound upon the differences and similarities of the two characters and what qualifies them as monstrous or not. As Amelia aptly pointed out in her presentation, the descriptions of Ragnelle in her ‘hag’ form are undeniably monstrous. The poet took great pains to describe her physical attributes as hideous. “A lute she bare upon her bak; / her nek long and therto greatt; / her here cloteryd on an hepe.” (Wedding 237-239) The description goes beyond Ragnelle as an unattractive woman but inscribes her with monstrous features, such as the previous description of the hump on her back, her thick neck, and her clumped hair.

The descriptions of the ancient lady of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, while considerably less monstrous, closely mirror those of Ragnelle: “She was short and thick of waist, / Her buttocks round and wide;” (Green Knight 966-967) Similarly, Ragnelle is described as having broad hips and being barrel-shaped. The two poets have in their minds the same kind of hag character. Both are described as being ornately dressed and, to some degree, respected. Arthur always addresses Ragnelle as “Lady” or even as “fayre Lady,” which indicates that even if Arthur finds her hideous he still recognizes that she possesses knowledge that he does not. The old lady is introduced as “an ancient, it seemed, / And held in high honor by all men about.” (Green Knight 948-949)

The difference between the two women, obviously, is the nature of their physical monstrousness. In one way, Ragnelle could be characterized as the more monstrous of the two since her deformities were caused by evil means, specifically witchcraft or “nygramancy.” (Wedding 691) Ragnelle’s association with the forces of such malevolent powers calls into question her innocence. Her relationship with her step-dame could speak to her own dabblings with the occult, but that’s speculation beyond the scope of the text. What is apparent from the text is that Ragnelle’s grotesque appearance is a consequence of dark forces, obscuring the pure, subservient angel that is Ragnelle’s true nature. The transitory nature of Ragnelle’s monstrous condition lessens its terrifying effect. By contrast, the ancient lady of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is far more monstrous because her condition cannot be reversed since she acquires her hideous appearance through the natural process of aging. The poet of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight describes the young, beautiful lady alongside the old, less “toothsome” lady, contrasting the attractive with the repulsive. Although Gawain, paragon of courtesy, does not reveal his revulsion, the text makes it clear that the ancient lady’s appearance elicits anxiety. The poet describes the young lady as “fresh” and the old lady as “faded.” (Green Knight 951)

Ragnelle, with her goodly appearance restored, does not deteriorate to the permanent monstrousness of her hag-like countenance. Her restored beauty remains fixed in Gawain’s unending love for her and her physical form, whereas the old lady slowly fades, serving as a constant, unwelcome reminder that decay and death is inevitable. And what is more monstrous than a figure that embodies our inescapable mortality?