Response to Creative Projects

When we were told that we would be able to demonstrate what we learned throughout the semester in the form of a creative project, I was excited because the material we have been dealing with is so hard to contain on a sheet of paper. Though it took a little while to pin down exactly what we wanted to do, because the choices were practically unlimited, it was so fun working with my group to try to portray Bennett’s ideas of edible matter and agency through a medieval-themed cooking show. It was also so interesting, surprising (in a good way!), and enlightening, to see how the other students in the class dealt with the concepts we’ve talked about this semester. It really made it clear that traces of these theories can be found pretty much everywhere from Lady Gaga to pecan pies.

A lot of people dealt with similar concepts as my group did, dealing with assemblages and how individual parts come together to create a whole action or ‘thing’: Thomas’ kinexs (sorry if I spelled this wrong Thomas!), our pottage, Austin’s writing process etc. Some of the projects that interested me the most in a “wow I never would have thought of that!” sort of way was Autumn’s re-naming of the lais and Victor’s Lady Gaga presentation. Not only were Autumn’s books beautiful but they really made you think about how the lais we read would have been greatly altered if their object of focus was not human action but some of the actants we talked about. For example, In Guigemar, if the hermaphroditic deer was the center of the story, the story would end when she/he died. We would never know or really care what happened to Guigemar except that he was cursed for killing this deer. Also I felt so much more for the poor nightengale who was so wrongly killed and never wanted to be involved in these neighbors love affair when Autumn put it in her new lais perspective.

When Victor got up to present and Lady Gaga came on the screen I thought, “Ok, how on earth is he going to make this work?” and he did! So well too! I can completely see how Lady Gaga has removed her human identity from herself and taken on so many different personas and even objects to make a cultural, political, or environmental point. She was a great example of how a person can un-objectify herself and, to use Jane Bennett’s description, shimmy back and forth between object and thing.

Basically, good job everyone! I very much enjoyed listening to/painting/eating/watching your presentations!

If these things could talk…

This week while reading “Yonec” I was reminded a lot of “Guigemar” because of the same wife locked away in a room scenario.  However, I liked that in “Yonec” the wife has more of a voice.  In “Guigemar” we are given a description of the king that is very much like the description of the king in “Yonec.”  he is “a very aged man who ha[s] a wife” (Guigemar 210).  In “Yonec”, the king is “rich, old and ancient” (Yonec 12).  So in “Guigemar” the king is characterized in terms of having a wife, and in “Yonec” the king is identified by his money.  I don’t really see anything out of the ordinary here, but in “Yonec” we are provided with the wife’s perspective of her husband which I thought was just great.  She calls him a “jealous old man” (71), and says that “when he should have been baptized / he was plunged instead in the river of hell; / his senews are hard, his veins are hard, / filled with living blood” (87-90).  Whoa!  I didn’t realize how much of a woman’s voice was lacking in the lais until this one finally spoke.  I know women do speak occasionally in the lais, but this is the first time I really felt like I heard one with a voice.

Another exclamation of the wife’s that made me think is when she cries that she should have never been born, her fate is terrible, and that she is imprisoned until death (67-70).  Most intriguingly she thinks, “What is this jealous old man afraid of / that he keeps me so imprisoned?” (71-2).  If we place everything on a horizontal plane like Bennett suggests, I wonder how many other “things” like the wife are screaming inside to be allowed to be the director of their own agency instead of being forced to serve the agendas of others (humans).  Going back to the wife’s earlier opinion of her husband:  what if things could talk?  What would they say about their “owners”?

Assemblage issues

As we’ve been talking about assemblages in class, the whole concept seems a little vague to me. I think I understand, and correct me if I’m wrong here, that an assemblage is all the actants that combine one way or another to make something happen, to put it loosely. We looked at Guigemar and the events and actants that led up to his injury: his desire to hunt, his huntsmen, his arrow, his horse, the fact that the deer ran out at that precise moment, the strange female yet male quality of the deer, the deer’s curse etc. I understand this but it seems as though infinite things combine to produce one action or event. The list could go on infinitely to sum up the parts that got Guigemar wounded: that specific day, the strength he used to shoot the arrow, the horse’s speed, the deers speed, etc etc.

It would seem that then everything existing is part of an assemblage or the effect of an assemblage and it would be impossible to try to pinpoint all the parts of an assemblage because there are really infinite. I mean no offense to Jane Bennett but I just really don’t understand how realizing that each action, event etc is made up of many causes is beneficial except for simply recognizing that everything is made up of so many other parts so appreciation, blame, confusion, etc can be dispersed instead of centered on one, not entirely at fault being.

I guess what I am getting at is how looking at assemblages will helpful in studying pre-1700 texts besides what I just mentioned?

Human Qualities as Actants in “Guigemar”

I had a good deal of difficulty picturing abstract actants such as a power grid’s “profit motives” in the medieval texts we’ve read thus far (Bennett 25).  But after today’s discussion in lecture, I went back to “Guigemar” and couldn’t help seeing them in every passage.  One of the most interesting intangible actants I found had the most apparent power when Guigemar first encounters the lady.  When he arrives on the ship, the lady believes him to be dead, a corpse, an object.  Guigemar is unconscious and has no control over his body, yet he’s still able to affect her as she falls in love with him.  How is that?  She’s captured by his beauty, “lamenting his beauty and fine body” (Marie 296).  His beauty itself behaved as an actant, redefining him and his relationships without the need of Guigemar’s will.  Guigemar’s body/beauty was necessary for the plot’s progression, and had power over his destiny even when Guigemar himself was on the brink of death and had no power for himself.

The lord’s niece affirms the power of beauty, claiming that this shared quality between Guigemar and the lady was sufficient in establishing a lifelong alliance between the two; “This love would be suitable . . . / you’re handsome and she’s beautiful” (Marie 451-3).  The ability of qualities of a person to act independently of one’s will seems pretty frightening to me, as it draws into the question just how much “free will” we actually have.  Beauty/Physical appearance is one of the most grounded qualities one has, but any quality, one’s sense of humor, intelligence, empathy, may behave as an actant, changing one’s course in life regardless of our will or intentions.  Does this make sense?

Networks in Guigemar

After a second visit to Guigemar, I tried to be aware of assemblages at work. Lines 57-58 really stuck out to me and seemed to be the start of networks taking action: “But in forming him nature had so badly erred / that he never gave any thought to love.” As this is the beginning of the conflict, all subsequent actions are therefore aimed at correcting the error. Nature as a network seems to work together with the supernatural, or marvelous, network to fix nature’s error.
The supernatural network seems to consist of such elements as the hermaphroditic deer, the curse, the boat, the church in the lady’s tower, and the strength of the knots.
Nature’s network seems to consist of the error, a desire to hunt, the will to live, the sea, and love (“because it comes from nature” line 486).
The individual networks working alone would not be successful in correcting nature’s error. The hermaphroditic deer and its curse would not have been encountered by Guigemar had he not been “seized by a desire to hunt” (Line 76) which is natural for a man (although the desire to hunt should not replace the desire to love). Had Guigemar not had a natural, human desire to live after his super-natural encounter, he would not have wandered off and found the boat. The natural sea helped the supernatural boat to carry Guigemar to the harbor where he was found by the lady and her servant. The ship is supernatural because it steers itself, but like the fairies in the other stories we’ve read, its extravagance is emphasized and described as being impossible for any human to acquire such as in line 158: “no gold under the sun could be worth more.” The church in the lady’s tower, while man-made, contains paintings of Venus (the goddess of love) and an image of her throwing “Ovid’s book, the one in which he instructs / lovers how to control their love” (Lines 239-240) into a fire. It is after she attends church that she finally confesses her love to Guigemar, as she can no longer “control” her love. This church seems to have a supernatural influence on her.
Finally, nature’s error is corrected. It is through natural love that the knots tied by the lovers are super-naturally strengthened. Fate also cannot be ignored in this story and I believe it falls into the supernatural network.
Although it seemed upon first reading that human actions were the main source of action in this story (though obviously influenced at times by supernatural elements), I believe it is really the non-human elements that drive the action. The supernatural and natural networks work together to drive the humans to action.

The morality of sexuality in Guigemar

Rachel, you weren’t the only one who was surprised by the views of morality found in Guigemar, a work which predates the height of the mystery play by a mere fifty years.  I’m well aware of the courtly love tradition and its importance to knight tales, yet a knight’s relationship with a lady is meant to boost one’s honor and loyalty.  But to me, the relationship in this tale seems to do nothing but diminish Guigemar’s honor.

Really, was Guigemar such a bad knight at the start of the tale?  He doesn’t do anything as sexually depraved as rape and pillage with wanton abandon.  Rather, he lives a life of sexual purity and chastity, while continuing to serve his land through his knightly deeds.  Yet this is unacceptable, as he is shot in the “thigh” (if you don’t use it, you lose it?) for living such an ignoble life.  The speaker truly believes that the punishment fits Guigemar’s crime, which further complicates things as the story progresses.

Guigemar’s adulterous relationship is directly endorsed by the speaker, who “[hopes they also enjoy whatever else / others do on such occasions” as they “lie down together and converse” (532-534).  The speaker is well aware that the knight is taking another’s woman, a woman he has just met and formed a relationship with based solely off of their Barbie x Ken comparability.  Yet she endorses this as the right thing to do, refusing to allow sympathy for the sexually inadequate husband.  As readers, we are frequently reminded that this is a tale of passion and romance, but I still find it difficult to forgive the implicit morals found in this tale.

To me, the most hypocritical part of this story lies in its conclusion, where a new knight claims the lady Guigemar has lost.  Guigemar saw nothing wrong with taking another’s woman earlier in the story, but when it is he who is wronged he sees death as a suitable punishment for womanizing. Unlike her husband, this new suitor is sexually capable and loves her more than any woman he ever had, so this exchange of hands should be less than punishable if anything.  Yet Guigemar only profits from his adultery and murder.

Am I blowing smoke here?  I’m not arguing about the morality of adultery in today’s world- I’m just trying to understand how this story and its morals could fit into a supposedly pious world, especially when its hero is a representative of the ideal.  Am I wrong about the apparent hypocrisy of the tale?

Subjective Short-Cuts

The notion of subjectivity presents the challenge of simultaneously recognizing the self, “an inwardly generated phenomenon” determined by “particular (yet strangely abstract) qualities,” as a subject, “an outwardly generated concept” determined by “social laws or codes” (37). The challenge, it seems, is conceding control. Which is determinant, the substantial qualities from within or the social laws from without? Western ethnocentricity (or egotism) tends to privilege inward qualities and characteristics. French theorist Louis Althusser, though, concedes to outward social laws and context. The self, he proposes, is “interpellated” into a subject “by the institutions of modern life” (44). Characteristics, then, are secondary to their context. Perhaps Marie de France anticipated Althusser’s political philosophy, for characteristics’ dependence on context is prevalent in Guigemar.

Marie employs easily recognizable plot and character devices from various narrative genres, providing the most basic context for interpreting her tale: the literary (or oral) tradition. Simply depending on the genre, stock characters act accordingly. Context continues to play a role within the world of Guigemar (which actually blends genres), particularly the placing of characters in specific social contexts. Regardless of genre, social context dictates decorum. Overwhelmingly, personal characteristics are mere functions of class. Marie describes Guigemar as “intelligent and brave” only after he is sent to “serve the king” in a chivalric sphere (42-3). Similarly, the maiden’s “noble, courteous, beautiful, intelligent” persona is merely a consequence of her being “a woman of high lineage” (211-2). Marie hardly shows Guigemar and the maiden building character, but instead “responding to things [and titles] that are already there” (39). They tend to do this quite literally in their actions as well. Guigemar acquires his reputation inFlanders, where “there was always a war, or battle raging” just waiting for him to claim his fame (52). The maiden’s return to her lover depends largely on a conveniently placed boat “taking her with it” (688). The characters’ commendable actions, like their traits, seem reactionary. These short-cuts to characterizations seem to be cheats. Poetic license excuses it in Marie’s case, but what of Althusser’s political philosophy? Is character merely a reaction?

Is Marie de France primarily concerned with the personal needs of knights?

     One thing that strikes me as interesting in Guigemar  is the necessity placed upon love.  I read Guigemar after reading the introduction to The Lais of Marie de France and it discusses how other contemporaneous courtly romances “differ from the Lais in that they are concerned with both love and chivalry, with the proper balance between a knight’s responsibility to his society, his service to others, and the fulfillment of his own desires while Marie’s primary concern is with the personal needs of the knight” (Hanning and Ferrante 11).  I would like to disagree here because I think that Marie pushes this balance as well. 

     The importance placed upon this balance first appears in line 57 for “in forming him nature had so badly erred/that he never gave any thought to love” (Marie de France).  So far we have learned that Guigemar is bright, valiant, and a good knight.  Is that not enough?  Dr. Seaman discussed on Wednesday that the French love ideal is at work here, so apparently love needs to enter the picture or else Guigemar remains flawed.  I would like to argue that love is not a “personal need” of Guigemar’s, and if “Marie’s primary concern is with the personal needs of the knight” such importance would not be placed on love—Guigemar’s physical health even depends on finding this cure:  love.

     Guigemar, after staying with his family, is suddenly “seized by the desire to hunt” (76).  It sounds like Guigemar really values being a knight which in turn makes his pursuit of being a great knight a personal need.  I imagine him waking up and proclaiming, “I must hunt!”  In fact, Marie even writes that hunting “gave him much pleasure,” and until that incident with the deer happens it appears that Guigemar is happy in his life.  Wouldn’t you say then that his personal needs have been satisfied?  Everyone harps on Guigemar about the love thing and eventually they just “g[i]ve him up for lost” because it is that serious (68).  This “personal need” for love, as described in the introduction, sounds more like his “responsibility to his society”—to become natural  (57) and satisfy everyone else.    

     While I certainly understand love as a value it is not a value of Guigemar’s until his identity as a knight (the curing of his wound) depends on it.  Because of this I do not think that love is a personal need of Guigemar’s –meaning he did not seek it out on his own accord:  after he was injured he wants to be healed by someone and not cured by love (125-32)—but a requirement placed upon him by society.  Therefore, Marie is also concerned with the balance that her contemporaries were.

Challenges with Medieval Literature

Reflecting on the stories we have read so far, one challenge that I have had is grasping some sort of reference point, or knowing where to look for meaning in the text and exactly what about the text is important to analyze. This is most likely due to the fact that almost all of the literature I have read has come from after Premodern England, and the only medieval literature I have read are segments of The Canterbury Tales and a few others in English 201.

 

It seems that there are a number of reasons this is challenging, all of which stem from the fact that there are major differences between modern and medieval literature. First and most obviously, Old English is difficult to understand at times, and although this wasn’t the case for Guigemar, Sir Cleges proved to be much more difficult to translate and the Old English exercises we have been doing prove that it can at times be almost impossible to comprehend. More subtly, the framework of both stories is different than anything I’ve ever read. Both have a similar authorial introduction, and quite abrupt endings where everything is tied together quickly. Characters are also developed in more blatant ways than most modern literature, not meaning that they lack depth, but that their qualities are a bit more obvious. My lack of knowledge of medieval culture and values also creates a challenge, and it is hard to know where to look for morals and the author’s intent when you know little about the culture that the stories took place in.

 

As I noted earlier, it is difficult to analyze a text when you feel like you don’t have a reference point, but it seems that I am currently developing one and as the semester progresses I’m sure that I, as well as everyone else, will become much more comfortable with the literature we are reading.

Gender roles in Marie De France’s Guigemar

One could say that Marie De France’s Guigemar is a more or less frank reflection of  gender norms in the 12th century. However, there are instances in which gender is symbolically or literally reimagined. The opening to Guigemar, for instance, struck me as a very bold move for a female writer to make, one which certainly did not conform to the gender standards of the time period. From the beginning, it is made clear that the writer herself is operating within a world of gender bias in which she feels a need to defend herself, even though she grants them “…a right to their evil talk.”

The deer Guigemar finds on his hunting expedition is no ordinary deer. In the forest, he sees “…a hind with a fawn; / a completely white beast, / with deer’s antlers on her head’ (90-92). The deer is curiously characterized as “she” but apparently possess both male and female attributes. Why make the deer a hermaphrodite? Furthermore, why is it a deer, and not a human being? First of all, the deer being a hermaphrodite lends the story a strange quality, making the encounter “magical” rather than tragic. Moreover, I believe it’s easier for an audience to accept a hermaphroditic deer rather than a human because we see animals (in a sense) as objects. The reality of an animal, which is mysteriously both male and female, is somehow less objectionable precisely because it is inhuman.

How do other characters defy prescribed gender roles? Guigemar himself appears to fulfill all the standards associated with knighthood. He is handsome, brave, valiant, and generous. In other words, he acts exactly as a male in his station of life is expected to act. However, his role as a knight (and by extension, an ideal male) is marred by one significant weakness. The fact that he does not have romantic feelings toward women is problematic considering his duties as a knight. This inability to love interferes with his ability to engage in the ritual of courtly love. After all, who would inspire him to go to battle (a central part of his chivalric duties) if there was no woman by his side?

His lady conforms to gender norms in that she is beautiful, noble, and remains nameless throughout. However, though nameless, she acquires power in her rescue of Guigemar (traditionally the knight is the one who saves the damsel in distress) and their subsequent romance.

Marie de France questions the role of gender in Guigemar, giving the impression that gender, while an undoubtedly strong force, can be undermined by characters who embody both the traditional and non-traditional roles of “male” and/or “female.”