Love against a background of war: the story of Troilus, Briseida and Diomedes, in Le Roman de Troie by Benoît de Sainte-Maure

INTRODUCTION

The story of Troilus and Cressida is one of the great stories of love, separation and loss that has come down to us across the centuries.

Drawing upon the first millennium CE Latin accounts of the Trojan War by Dictys Cretensis and Dares Phrygius, rather than on Homer’s Iliad, Benoît de Sainte-Maure composed his own very long (over 30,000 verse lines) Roman de Troie, in what we now call Old French, around 1165 CE. 

The Roman de Troie has been translated into English prose by Glyn S Burgess and Douglas Kelly, and published (in 2017) by D S Brewer (Woodbridge, Suffolk).  The translation has 475 pages.  It contains an introduction, a glossary of technical terms, appendices, indexes, and a bibliography.  It is comprehensive and illuminating.  It is invaluable to a student of the literature of the period, as the original Old French is opaque (quite different from modern French in many ways).

WAR AND LOVE

Benoît attributes the causes of the war to the legacy of earlier conflicts, and also a succession of abductions of women by rapacious men.  But he breaks up his account of the causes, the progress of the war, and its sequelae, with love stories (arguably, the most interesting parts), namely those of: (i) Jason and Medea, (ii) Paris and Helen, (iii) Achilles and Polyxena, and (iv) Troilus, Briseida and Diomedes.

The indirect influence of Homer’s Iliad can be detected in the Roman de Troie.  But there are also significant changes.  See for example the third love story mentioned above.  Here, Achilles does not suspend his participation in the war because of any argument with Agamemnon (cf Iliad Book I); (nor does he return in haste because of his hatred of Hector over the death of his friend Patroclus, who dies early on in Benoît’s account); he does so because of his love for the Trojan princess Polyxena, and his consequent desire for a peace settlement, in order to win her.  (In the event, he is lured into an ambush and killed.)

The fourth love story takes up about a thousand lines of the whole story (interspersed between lines 13065 and 20340).  The action can be summarised as follows.  Calchas (aka Calcas), a prophet, and the father of Briseida, defects from Troy to the Greek camp, under the influence of an oracle.  But he leaves his daughter Briseida behind in Troy.  She is in love with Troilus.  Calchas requests that Briseida be sent to him: King Priam accedes to this request.  The wishes of Briseida and Troilus in the matter are not consulted.  The Greek warrior Diomedes (aka Diomède) then woos Briseida persistently and at first unsuccessfully.  Diomedes seizes Troilus’s horse in battle and gives it to Briseida.  She gives him her (detachable) sleeve, which he can wear in battle.  Furious with Briseida, Troilus wounds Diomedes heavily, and he scornfully warns him that Briseida may not be faithful to him, either.  Briseida feels sorry for Diomedes; she confesses her love for him, despite her affection for Troilus.  Then she disappears from the narrative.  Much later, Troilus is killed by Achilles in battle (cf Virgil, Aeneid I, lines 474-8); Diomedes survives the war and goes home to his wife.

THE EMOTIONAL FACTORS

1 Troilus and Briseida are both distressed and angry at their involuntary separation.  They promise to be constant to each other.

2 When Briseida arrives in the Greek camp, she deals with Diomedes’ immediate overtures to her firmly but tactfully, pointing out that she will be “alone, without other ladies” [Burgess & Kelly, page 209], and that she must have regard to her reputation. 

3 Briseida proceeds to upbraid her father over his disloyalty to his home city.  He replies by saying that he is only obeying the “will of the gods”; and he claims that he is saving her from the forthcoming conquest and destruction of Troy.

4 Briseida soon begins to settle down in the Greek camp:

“Before she had reached the fourth evening, she would not have felt like returning to the city, or have any wish to do so.” [Burgess & Kelly, page 211]

5 Diomedes becomes obsessed with Briseida; he is said to be in her “snare”; he doubts whether he will ever “possess” her.  He confesses his love to her; she thinks that she has some power over him; she gives him “the sleeve from her right arm…for him to use as a banner” [B & K, page 228]; he is “filled with joy”.  But as for Troilus, his love for Briseida is “quashed”.

6 When Diomedes is so gravely wounded in battle that he is at risk of dying, Briseida realises that she loves him and lets this be known publicly.  However she accuses herself of acting “wrongly and ignominiously”, saying:

“I have betrayed my beloved Troilus….My heart should have been so attached to Troilus and so secure in him that I would have heeded no other man.” [B & K, page 289] 

She adds that she will be the subject of gossip in Troy and that she “shall suffer scorn for ever”.

In conclusion, then, Briseida faces up to grim reality.  She still feels rather alone: “here among the Greeks I had no counsel, no friend or confidant.” [B & K, page 290]  She makes her choice, constrained as she is by circumstances:

“And what good does it do me to repent what I have done?  In this affair no recovery is possible.  I shall therefore be faithful to this Greek, who is indeed a fine and worthy vassal.  I have already given so much of my heart to Diomedes; because of him I have acted as I did.  This would not have happened in this way if I were still in Troy.”  [B & K, pages 289f]

One can argue that Briseida is not entirely blameworthy for her predicament; she has regrets and misgivings; she has insight; her choice can be regarded as rational.

Tatyana Moran praises Benoît’s characterisation of Briseida:

“Benoît’s Briseida is in her complexity one of the most astonishing characters of mediaeval literature.  Though created in order to embody the unreliableness, the faithfulness and the heartlessness of women, she is both more and less than all that; she is no mere personification of vice but a human being, full of contradiction, driven by her instincts yet conscious of her failings, disconcerting and rather charming.” [Moran T, page 20*]

MISOGYNY

1 Benoît praises Briseida’s physical beauty but condemns her personality. His judgement is reflected in that of his male characters: Troilus, Diomedes and King Priam.  Moreover, Benoît is pretty damning about women in general (see below).

2 Priam regards Briseida as tainted by association with her treacherous father:

“If it were not the case that the maiden was worthy and noble, sensible and beautiful, she would be burned and dismembered because of her father.  Let her be off on her way.” [Burgess & Kelly, page 202]

3 Just as Briseida is setting out for Troy, Benoît predicts that she will be easily and quickly distracted by the prospect of a new relationship:

“A woman will never be perplexed for too long.  Provided she can find an alternative, her sighs will be short-lived.  Woman’s grief is of short duration.  If one eye sheds tears, the other is smiling.  Their hearts change very quickly.  The wisest woman is quite foolish.” [Burgess & Kelly, page 207]

4 Benoît reports that Briseida takes advantage of the sight of Diomedes’ love-sickness:

“Thanks to his sighs, she perceived clearly that he was totally smitten with her, and that was why she was three times harsher with him.  This is a constant feature in a woman’s character.  If she recognizes that you love her and are distraught on her account, she will always treat you with arrogance.” [B & K, page 226]

5 As Troilus wounds Diomedes in battle, he takes the opportunity to accuse Briseida of “short-lived fidelity”, “treachery”, “injustice” and “betrayal” [B & K, page 287].  Without any justification, he suggests that Diomedes will have to be “extremely vigilant”, lest Briseida (having learnt to enjoy sex) should entertain in her bed not only Diomedes himself but also “transient guests” – for payment.

The translators add a note [no 132]:

“Troilus seems to believe that Briseida is prostituting herself, and the “transient guests” would be her clients.  Robert Henryson will follow up on this surmise in his late-medieval Scottish poem The Testament of Cresseid, in which Cresseid ends her life as a prostitute.” [Page 287]

In conclusion, Briseida is treated very badly by men, in word and in deed.  Diomedes provides her with a safe haven, in a way; but the text implies strongly that he is out for what he can get (sexually) with Briseida.

BENOÎT’S INFLUENCE ON LATER WRITERS

Benoît’s fourth love storygave rise to numerous adaptations and elaborations.  Its influence (direct or indirect) can be traced in various later works, notably: (i) Giovanni Boccaccio’s Filostrato (circa 1335), (ii) Geoffrey Chaucer’s Troilus and Criseyde (circa 1385), (iii) Robert Henryson’s Testament of Cresseid (late 15^th century), and (iv) and William Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida (circa 1602). 

Benoît does not cover Troilus’s wooing of Briseida: he begins with the separation of the lovers, moves on to her meeting with Diomedes, and finishes with the lady’s eventual switch of allegiance (rather to Benoît’s disgust).  Boccaccio introduces the account of the earlier wooing, and treats it, indeed, at length.  He also creates the character of Pandarus (aka Pandaro), who brings the lovers together.  Chaucer treats the affair at even greater length and brings in new perspectives (for example, from the philosophy of The Consolation of Philosophy of Boëthius).  Shakespeare spends about two-thirds of his play on the war: the scope available for the coverage of the love triangle is therefore limited.

The expression of misogyny is less strident in Filostrato and in Troilus and Criseyde.  (But see the assessment of Burgess and Kelly, below.)  However, Henryson is wholly negative about Cresseid in his Testament.  Misogyny is prominent in the attitude of many male characters in Troilus and Cressida: see, for example, the welcome that the Greek leaders give to Cressida when she is handed over to them in Act 4, Scene 5 – they all want to kiss her, at first meeting.

In the later writers’ works, Troilus is saddened rather than enraged:

“Faced with his lady’s betrayal, Boccaccio’s Troilo [sic] persists in defending her virtue; Chaucer’s Troylus [sic] tries to find oblivion in feats of arms; Shakespeare’s hero feels the world crumbling under his feet; while Benoît’s gallant, whose pride is more wounded than his heart, revenges himself not only by fighting Diomède but by poisoning his mind against Briseida, who, he is certain, will betray her new lover just as she had betrayed his predecessor.'” [Moran T, page 19*]

In the Introduction to their translation, Burgess and Kelly have a section on ‘Women in War’ [pages 26-28].  Firstly they remind the reader that:

“The common lot of non-combatant women [all, other than Penthesilea] is rape and slaughter, or, for the ‘privileged few’ who are of high birth, abduction and life as a concubine.” [Page 26]

Then they comment on Briseida as follows:

“Briseida…adapts to her fate [as concubine], albeit less willingly and more slowly and thoughtfully than does Helen [with Paris]…. [Moreover, Briseida’s] case is special because it does not fit the misogynist version of her love for Diomedes that both Boccaccio and Chaucer relate, claiming, like Benoît, that she would find a new love only a few days after leaving Troilus….She finally accepts Diomede’s love after almost two years….” [Pages 27f]

CONCLUSION

Benoît’s stated purpose in writing Le Roman de Troie was to tell the story of the Trojan War to readers and listeners who did not know the pre-existing accounts in Latin.  (Note that the Ancient Greek Iliad only became available in Western Europe much later.)   Benoît succeeded in his purpose.

Obviously, Le Roman de Troie is very long.  The translators count 23 battles in all in the course of the main war.   The casualties are innumerable.  Unsurprisingly, there is much repetition in the descriptions of the combats and killings.  The account is varied by the inclusion of truces, negotiations and love affairs.  Material was created that proved useful to later, greater writers (see above).

The Roman, then, is of interest to specialists rather than to the general public.

*Reference

Moran, T (1968), ‘The Growth of the Troilus and Cressida Legend and Benoît de Sainte-Maure’, in Litera: Journal of Language, Literature and Cultural Studies, Volume 0, Issue 9, 9 – 24.

Retrieved via https://dergipark.org.tr/en/pub/iulitera/issue/1243/14593 10.04.23

D.R.H.

10 April 2023

Theban themes and threads across 2000 years

The Ancient Greeks: Oedipus and his family

The Athenian tragedians of the 5^th century BCE – Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides – wrote superb dramas about:

1. the fates of King Oedipus of Thebes (the man who killed his father and married his mother, Jocasta) and his children, Antigone, Eteocles, Ismene and Polynices (Polyneices).
2. the dynastic rivalry between the two sons, leading up to a disastrous war
3. the unsuccessful attempts by their mother and sisters to reconcile the two brothers
4. the intervention of the Athenian hero, Theseus, to ensure the decent burial of the warriors fallen in the war – at the earnest request of their grieving womenfolk.

In these plays, women are victims of strife and war – the ones who mourn openly, and the ones who insist upon the performance of the proper funeral rites for their menfolk.

In The Seven Against Thebes of Aeschylus, seven warriors (Polynices and his allies) arrive from Argos and lay siege to the city.  The city is saved, but both Eteocles (current ruler of Thebes) and his exiled brother Polynices are killed.

Sophocles wrote three plays about the fate of Thebes and Oedipus and his family.  Oedipus the King is perhaps the best known.  Oedipus shows his determination to discover the truth about his history.  By the time of Oedipus at Colonus, the war between  Polynices and Eteocles is about to begin: both sides ask Oedipus for his support – he refuses.  Antigone deals with the aftermath of the war.  The besiegers’ corpses have been left unburied outside Thebes, on the orders of Creon, now the sole ruler, in contravention of religious law.  Antigone defies Creon and (symbolically rather than thoroughly) covers the corpse of Polynices with soil.  Antigone and Creon debate the conflict between a man-made law and a higher law.

In the Phoenician Women of Euripides, Jocasta tries to reconcile the two brothers (her sons) but fails.  The war commences.  In the end, the two brothers fight a duel and kill each other.  Jocasta kills herself in grief.  Creon (now the ruler) expels Oedipus from the city – Antigone goes with him.  The body of Polynices remains unburied.

In the Suppliants of Euripides, set outside Thebes, after the war, the mothers of the fallen besiegers (abetted by their sons), Adrastus (King of Argos), and Theseus’s own mother, all beg Theseus to overcome Creon’s decree and to arrange the burial of the exposed warriors.  When negotiations with Creon fail, Theseus launches a successful attack, and the mourners’ wishes are fulfilled.

Later adaptations – Latin

In the 1^st century CE, Seneca writes the tragedies, Oedipus, based on Sophocles’s model, and Phoenissae, based on the two plays by Euripides mentioned above.

Later in the 1^st century CE, Statius wrote his epic, the Thebaid, influenced by Greek and Latin models.  Here, in contrast with the Greek plays, the conflict between Oedipus’s sons is inflamed by the direct intervention of supernatural figures – gods, a fury from hell, and the ghost of Oedipus’s own father.  Indeed, both sons of Oedipus, and their allies, are doomed, as Jupiter himself makes plain:

                 manet haec ab origine mundi
fixa dies bello, populique in proelia nati.  [Book III, lines 242f]

[This day has remained fixed for war, since the beginning of the world, and the peoples born for battles.]

The plot of the epic follows the thread of the Greek tradition, outlined above (points 1-4) – much elaborated, with vivid description of vehement speeches and violent acts.  No gruesome, revolting aspect is spared the reader.   (One incident – Tydeus’s gnawing the head of Melanippus [Book VIII] – is mentioned by Dante in Inferno, Canto XXXII.)

The aftermath of the war between the brothers is covered in Book XII.  Here, Argia, widow of Poynices, and Antigone, his sister, meet on the battlefield, where the fallen warriors’ corpses still lie.  The women now prepare the body of Polynices for his funeral – but when they place it on the still smouldering pyre of Eteocles, the latter’s body rejects it, to the extent that two separate fires break out from the pyre.  The other widows go to Athens and plead with Theseus for help.  Theseus accedes to their request, attacks Thebes, and kills Creon.  The exposed corpses have their funeral.

The characters act as if they are exercising free will, but in fact they are following their destiny.

(Statius appears in Dante’s Purgatorio, Cantos XXI and XXII.  Statius is ranked by Chaucer with Virgil, Ovid, Homer and Lucan, in Troilus and Criseyde, Book V; and he is listed among many great poets, in The House of Fame, Book III.)

Later adaptations – Western Europe

It was Latin literature, rather than Greek, that influenced the European vernacular literatures of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance.

The anonymous 12^th century Old French epic, Le Roman de Thèbes, is based on the Thebaid, but it is much influenced by contemporary methods of warfare and the Crusades.

Il Teseida delle Nozze d’Emilia (the Story of Theseus and the Nuptials of Emilia) by Giovanni Boccaccio (14^th century) shows the influence of Virgil’s Aeneid and Statius’s Thebaid.  Here, Book I deals with the war of Teseo (Theseus) against the Amazons and his marriage to their queen, Ipolita (Hippolyta); Book II deals with Theseus’s war against the Thebans, to ensure the burial of warriors killed in the Theban civil war, at the request of their widows.  (Compare Book XII of the Thebaid.)

Then there is a change of emphasis.  Books III-XII cover the rivalry between the Theban cousins Palemone and Arcita over the beautiful Emilia, sister of Ipolita.  The young cousins are Boccaccio’s creation.  They fight over a lady rather than a city.

Pagan gods reappear: Arcita is depicted as a protégé of the god Mars, Palamone of the goddess Venus, and Emilia of the virgin goddess Diana.

To resolve the dispute, Teseo arranges a combat between Arcita and Palamone.  The result is unexpected: it has features of the surprise elements or vicissitudes characteristic of romance.  Behind the scenes, the gods interfere in the process.  The humans have to make a “virtue of necessity”, as Teseo says:

                        far della necessitate

virtù, quando bisogna, è sapienza.     [Book XII, stanza 11]

[To make a virtue of necessity, when the need arises, is wisdom.]

Is Il Teseida an epic or a romance or a bit of both?   I think that, as regards medieval romance, the practice of chivalry can be combined with the pursuit of love (see, for example, Arthurian literature).

The Knight’s Tale (14^th century) by Geoffrey Chaucer is a free adaptation of Boccaccio’s Il Teseida and is very much shorter.  It concentrates on the rivalry between Palamon and Arcite, rather than the Amazonian and Theban wars.

In the Preface to his Fables Ancient and Modern (1700), John Dryden writes about what we know as The Knight’s Tale, as follows:

I prefer in our countryman, far above all his other stories, the noble poem of Palamon and Arcite, which is of the epic kind, and perhaps not much inferior to the Ilias [Iliad] or the Aeneis [Aeneid]: the story is more pleasing than either of them, the manners as perfect, the diction as poetical, the learning as deep and various, and the disposition as artful.

And indeed, Dryden includes his own somewhat free translation of The Knight’s Tale in The Fables.  Dryden overstates the case, but The Knight’s Tale is magnificent – as a romance rather than an epic.

The influence of the Theban stories can be seen too, both in Anelida and Arcite  and in Troilus and Criseyde . The story of The Thebaid is summarized, indeed, in a passage in Book V of the latter.  In Book II, Pandarus discovers Criseyde and her friends reading a book about Thebes – whether from The Thebaid or from Le Roman de Thèbes is open to interpretation.  (What happened to Thebes foreshadows what will happen to Troy itself – but the Trojans fail to see this.)

In The Siege of Thebes (15^th century), John Lydgate offers an addition to the Canterbury Tales in the form of a prequel to The Knight’s Tale, from the story of Oedipus to the intervention of Theseus at the end of the Theban war.

As its Prologue acknowledges, The Two Noble Kinsmen (circa 1613), by John Fletcher and William Shakespeare, has as its primary source The Knight’s Tale.  Act One resembles Euripides’s Suppliants, whether by accident or design.  In Scene 2, the eponymous kinsmen, Arcite and Palamon, deplore the quality of life in Thebes (already the victim of war) and the tyranny of Creon.   Then they are transported to Athens, and they forget about their home city.

Here is my last mention of Thebes.  By now, we have come a long way from the Greek dramas.  The latter have stood the test of time.  It is doubtful whether, on their own terms, they have ever been equalled, since.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Way with Words

A few years ago Jane and I, on holiday in Italy, based in Sirmione on Lake Garda, went on a day trip to Venice.  Among other things, I was keen to visit the Doge’s Palace, both because my parents had talked about it but also because Marcel Proust had written about it.  On the day, however, I found that it was possible only to buy a composite ticket for four attractions: the price was high and time was short.  So we never got to see it.

 

Proust knew Venice well and he excels at evoking it.  His appreciation was stimulated by reading (and translating) John Ruskin’s writings on the city.

 

The passage below (in the original French and in English translation) comes from Marcel Proust’s À la recherché du temps perdu, in particular, Du côté de chez Swann – the chapter, Un amour de Swann.  Here we see Charles Swann (friend of the first person narrator) arrive at a soirée, held by a friend, for the upper classes, in late 19^th century Paris.  At this point, he commences his ascent of a magnificent staircase.  In his mind Swann compares it unfavourably with a narrow, smelly one in a poor apartment block, because this is where he sometimes meets his mistress (Odette). He cannot bring Odette to this high class soirée.  He misses her.

 

Proust is famous (or infamous) for his long sentences.  He packs a lot into them.  The parentheses and subordinate clauses adorn and embellish the main line of thought.  Below I have used ellipses to indicate my omissions.  Complete sentences are complex and rich; but the disadvantage is that the reader can easily lose the main thread.

 

The references to art and sculpture here are typical of Proust’s writings (and virtually all the arts receive a mention in the course of À la recherché).

 

Here we go!

 

À quelque pas, un grand gaillard en livrée rêvait, comme ce guerrier purement décoratif qu’on voit dans les tableaux les plus tumultueux de Mantegna, songer, appuyé sur son bouclier, tandis qu’on se précipite et qu’on s’égorge à côté de lui….

 

D’autres encore, colossaux aussi, se tenaient sur les degrés d’un escalier monumental que leur presence decorative et leur immobilité marmorénne auraient pu nommer celui du Palais ducal: “l’Escalier des Géants” et dans lequel Swann engagea avec la tristesse de penser qu’Odette ne l’avait jamais gravi.  Ah! avec joie au contraire il eût grimpé les étages noir, malodorants et casse-cou de la petite couturière retiree, dans le “cinquième” de laquelle il aurait été si heureux de payer plus cher q’une avant-scène hebdomadaire à l’Opéra le droit de passer la soirée quand Odette y venait, et même les autres jours, pour pouvoir parler d’elle, vivre avec les gens qu’elle avait l’habitude de voir quand il n’était pas là et qui à cause de cela lui paraissaient recéler, de la vie de sa maîtresse, quelque chose de plus réel, de plus inaccessible et de plus mystérieux.

 

[Du Côté de chez Swann, Paris: folio classique (1987) pp 318f]

 

A few steps away, a sturdy fellow in livery mused motionless, statuesque, useless, like the purely decorative warrior one sees in the most tumultuous paintings by Mantegna, lost in thought, leaning on his shield, while others beside him rush forward and slaughter one another….

 

Still others, also colossal, stood on the steps of a monumental staircase to which their decorative presence and marmoreal immobility might have induced one to give the same name as the one in the Ducal Palace – ‘Staircase of the Giants’ – and which Swann began to climb with the sad thought that Odette had never ascended it.  Oh, with what joy by contrast would he have gone up the dark, evil-smelling and rickety flights to the little retired dressmaker’s, in whose ‘fifth floor’ he would have been so happy to pay more than the price of a weekly stage-box at the Opéra for the right to spend the evening when Odette came there, and even on the other days, so as to be able to talk about her, live among the people she was in the habit of seeing when he was not there and who because of that seemed to harbour something, of his mistress’s life, that was more real, more inaccessible and more mysterious.

 

[Lydia Davis (tr) (2003), The Way by Swann’s, London: Penguin, pp 326f]

 

Here Ms Davis follows the French very closely; but “auraient pu nommer celui de” (literally, “could have named the one of”) is turned into the longer “might have induced one to give the same name as”.

 

Ms Davis describes the challenges of reading, and of translating, Proust in the introduction to her translation.  She is a firm admirer:

 

The style in which Proust wrote was essentially natural and unaffected, free from preciosity, archaism and self-conscious elegance….Yet at the same time, he used a wealth of metaphorical imagery, layer upon layer of comparisons, and had a tendency to fill a sentence to its utmost capacity…Proust felt that a long sentence contained a whole, complex thought.  [page xxx]

 

The short quotations above give an indication of Proust’s skill with words.  The whole scene at the soirée has a satirical flavour: the idiosyncrasies of the upper classes are exposed.  (But the tone changes when Swann becomes immersed in the music being performed, as it too brings Odette to mind – not very happily.)

 

 

 

 

Quests and questions in medieval epics: Peredur, Perceval, Parzival; Gwalchmai, Gauvain, Gawan

1 Below is a rough-and-ready table, which shows parallels and differences between the Welsh medieval tale, Peredur, the late 11^th century epic by Chrétien de Troyes in French, and the German epic by Wolfram von Eschenbach (circa 1200).  Much is left out, eg regarding the respective styles of the writers.  (Fuller summaries can be found elsewhere.)

Peredur	Perceval	Parzival (with book nos)
		The story of P’s father.  1 & 2
P, from mother to court.	P, from mother to court.	P, from mother to court.  3
P meets tent maiden*.	P meets tent maiden.	P meets Jeschute.  3
Gwenhwyfar* insulted.	Guinièvre insulted.	Ginover splashed by kt.
P with uncle 1.	P with Gornemant.	P with Gurnemanz.  3
		P + Condwiramurs.  4
With Uncle 2	Grail Castle	Grail Castle  5
Bloody spear and head*	King and Grail etc	Anfortas and Grail etc  5
P asks no questions.	P asks no questions.	P asks no questions.  5
Meets foster-sister.	Meets cousin.	Meets Sigune  5
P in love.	P loves Blanchefleur.
P defeats jealous knight.	P defeats jealous knight.	P defeats Orilus.  5
P  with Witches.
P lost in thought of maiden.	P lost in thought about B.	P lost in thought of C.  6
Angharad and P.
The Empress* and P.
————	————	———–
Ugly maiden reproves P.**	Ugly maiden reproves P.	Cundrie denounces P.  6
Gwalchmai’s adventure.	Gauvain’s adventures.	Gawan’s adventures – 7, 8
P with hermit.	P with hermit uncle.	P with Trevrizent.  9
P kills Witches***.
	Gauvain’s adventures.	Gawan’s exploits  10-13
		Gawan et al wed.  14
		P and half-brother.   15
		P back with Cond.  15
		P poses the Question.  16
		Anfortas healed.  16
		P > King , Cond > Queen.  16

*symbols of sovereignty?

**Should the challenge be about neglecting his wife, or neglecting revenge, or indeed both?

***Peredur achieves revenge for the harm done to his family.

2 The anonymous Peredur is written in prose and is very short, compared with the others.  Perceval has over 9,000 lines of verse.  Parzival is much longer, with over 24,000 lines.  It can be safely said that Parzival elaborates upon (and completes) Perceval, Wolfram’s only, or chief, source.  It can be proposed that Perceval expands upon Peredur or upon a common source, but that the French version may have influenced the Welsh manuscripts that have come down to us, especially in the latter part (cf the Question Test).

3 Perceval is unfinished.  There are medieval French language continuations, not discussed here.  Peredur displays up to three endings!  In other words, while the story is easy to follow at the outset, it is confused and confusing later on.  The ending given by the destruction of the Witches of Caer Loyw provides a fitting ending, if one assumes that the tale is fundamentally about revenge and the gaining of sovereignty over the tribe or clan.  Reconciliation with the hero’s wife (which one?) would parallel what happens in the similar and contemporary Geraint and Owain (Iarlles y Ffynnon).

4 About half of Perceval is devoted to the adventures of Gauvain.  The proportions are not so tilted in Parzival, but six books are allocated to Gawan, out of the sixteen.

5 Significant wounds in the Parzival story relate to intimate areas.  There is a strong hint that Anfortas has been wounded in the genitals, because of his illicit love affair, outside the Grail Order.  Clinschor the enchanter has been castrated, because of his adultery.  (I was expecting him to appear in person in the story, but he doesn’t.)

6 It is a characteristic of Parzival that all the participants are related – either by blood or (in the course of the narrative) by marriage.  Wolfram marries off all the principal unmarried characters.  (See, for example, Book 14.)  This is not a feature of the other versions.

7 Wolfram is very forgiving of characters that have done wrong.  He has good words to say about Keie, Orilus and Clamidê (oppressor of Condwirmarus).

8 On reading Peredur, one has no sense of an audience – with Perceval and Parzival one does.  Chrétien and Wolfram address their listeners (the latter, frequently), in asides.  Wolfram includes many references to his contemporaries, to places and to current events.

9 At one end of a spectrum, Peredur reflects old Celtic mythology, with its magic and shape-shifters.  At the other end, Wolfram creates his own mythology, loosely based upon the Templars: the Grail Order represents and serves the dual values and principles of Christianity and chivalry.  Clinschor’s powers of enchantment are portrayed in Parzival, but (to my mind) they are not well worked out.  There is no confrontation between Gawan and Clinschor, only the former’s survival of the assaults associated with the perilous bed (Book 11).  (Compare Perceval, lines 7676-7884.)

10 I haven’t mentioned the Grail!  The concept is adumbrated in Perceval and expanded upon, on a grand scale, by Wolfram.  It does not appear in Peredur, as is plainly evident.

11 Parzival can be regarded as a “bildungsroman” – the story of the education and development of the hero to full maturity and his taking on of adult responsibilities.

12 Finally, a personal opinion: I do not think it is fair that any of the main protagonists should be blamed for not asking the great question concerning the Grail (or its Welsh equivalent, the bloody severed head).  The advantage of this (non-)event is that it ensures the continuation of the story and provides the hero with obstacles to overcome and chances to prove himself.

All three versions are a “good read” – in translation.  The original medieval texts require notes and glossaries to be understood.

Principal books consulted

Goetinck, G (1975), Peredur: A Study of Welsh Tradition in the Grail Legends, Cardiff: University of Wales

Goetinck, G W (1976), Historia Peredur vab Efrawg, Cardiff: University of Wales

Hatto, A T (1980), Wolfram von Eschenbach: Parzival, Harmondsworth (Middlesex): Penguin

Hertz, W and Hofstaetter, W (1969), Parzival: eine Auswahl, Stuttgart: Reclam

Jones, G and Jones, T (1949), The Mabinogion, London: Dent (Everyman)

Jones, R M (Bobi) (1960), Y Tair Rhamant: Iarlles y Ffynnon, Peredur, Geraint, Aberystwyth: Cymdeithas Lyfrau Ceredigion

Mustard, H M and Passage, C E (1961), Wolfram von Eschenbach: Parzival, New York NY: Random House (Vintage)

Owen, D D R (1987), Chrétien de Troyes: Arthurian Romances, London: Dent (Everyman)

Wright, J and Walsh, M O’C (1954), Middle High German Primer, London: Oxford University Press

Racism and sexism in three parallel medieval romances – ‘Peredur’, ‘Perceval’ and ‘Parzival’

Introduction

The Welsh Peredur (written down in the 14^th century but of earlier composition), the French Perceval (11^th century, by Chrétien de Troyes), and the German Parzival (circa 1200, by Wolfram von Eschenbach) – each can be called a “bildungsroman”, insofar as it traces the education, development and maturing of a young protagonist.

(Peredur starts very well, but the ending as we have it is confused; Perceval is unfinished; Parzival is very sophisticated.)

I wish to discuss two episodes about the hero, before he has gone out into the wider world, from the rural, isolated spot where his widowed mother is keeping him.

The lad and the knights

Early on, then, the young man suddenly comes across a posse of Arthurian knights.  The knights ask the hero for directions, and he asks them about their equipment. So their priorities are different.

(1) In the anonymous Welsh Peredur, when the eponymous hero meets three Arthurian knights, his questions are answered readily:

‘Say, friend,’ said Owein, has thou seen a knight go hereby today or yesterday?’  ‘I know not,’ he replied, ‘what a knight is.’  ‘Such a thing as I am,’ said Owein.  ‘Wert thou to tell me that which I would ask of thee, I in turn would tell thee that which thou dost ask.’  ‘I will, gladly,’ said Owein.’

[Peredur, tr G Jones & T Jones, p 184; cf White Book of Rhydderch, pp 118f]

(2) In the Perceval of Chrétien de Troyes, however, some of the five knights (passing by) treat the hero differently, when he asks questions, and they complain that he is holding them up.  They comment on Perceval unfavourably:

“So help me God,” says their chief, “he’s a real ignoramus….” – “You may be perfectly certain, my lord, that the Welsh are by nature more stupid than grazing beasts; and this is one is just like a beast.”

[Perceval, tr D D R Owen, page 377]

Has the writer picked up discriminatory attitudes from the Norman French who were interacting with the Welsh in Britain at the time?

(3) Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival (based here upon Perceval) reproduces this scenario, with variations.  Here, the hero delays four passer-by knights with his questions: three become impatient (while their leader is more sympathetic):

The foremost lost his temper at the sight of the boy in mid-path.  ‘This stupid Waleis [Welshman] is slowing us down.’  (The Waleis, I must tell you, share the same distinction as the Bavarians, but are even denser than Bavarian folk…)

[Parzival, tr A T Hatto, Book 3, p 72]

The lad and the maiden in the tent

The hero’s first encounter with a stranger, on his way to Arthur’s court, happens to be with a lady.  (Note that the hero recalls his mother’s advice and applies it, or misapplies it, here.)  The main thread of the three parallel stories is this: the hero enters a tent (or pavilion) and finds there a beautiful lady; he helps himself to food and drink, takes a ring from her finger, and kisses her.  But the details vary a lot.  I need to quote from the descriptions at some length.

(4) Note that, when Peredur reaches the pavilion, he has not eaten for “two days and two nights”.  I proceed:

The maiden made him welcome and greeted him….’ My mother,’ said Peredur, ‘bade me wherever I saw meat and drink, to take it.’  ‘Go then, chieftain,’ said she, ‘to the table.  And God’s welcome to thee.’ [Peredur takes half, only.] ‘My mother,’ said he, ‘bade me take a fair jewel wherever I might see it.’  ‘Take it then, friend,’ said she.  ‘’Tis not I will begrudge thee.’  Peredur took the ring, and went down on his knee and gave the maiden a kiss [on her hand?], and took his steed and departed thence.

[Peredur, tr Jones & Jones, pp 185f; emphasis added; cf White Book of Rhydderch, pp 120f]

Note how polite both parties are and how generous the lady is.  She is a good hostess and he is a good guest.

Given the mythological and magical elements underlying the story, it is possible that the lady has insight into Peredur’s destiny; and she may indeed be an Otherworld character (and herself an educator).

In her study of Welsh Tradition in the Grail Legends, G Goetinck states:

The meeting of Peredur with the Tent Maiden is one of the first episodes in which the hero is helped and guided by the power of the Otherworld whilst he is being trained.  It is also a version of the meeting between the hero and Sovereignty….

[Goetinck, p 140]

(5) In Perceval, there are no indications of a mythological aspect to the lady, and the situation is quite different:

On the bed [in the tent], all alone, lay a young girl fast asleep….She woke with a start….The girl trembles with fear on account of the youth, who to her seems crazy….”Be on your way, lad!” she says.  “Be off, before my lover sees you.” – “By my head, I’ll kiss you first, whoever it may upset,” says the youth, “because my mother told me to!” – “I’ll certainly never kiss you if I can help it,” says the maiden. “Be off…!

Perceval is much stronger than the lady: he kisses her seven times [presumably on her mouth]; and he pulls her ring (“set with a brilliant emerald”) from her finger, and puts it on his own.  She bursts into tears.  He adds insult to injury:

“Bless you, maiden.  Now I’ll be off well rewarded – and it’s much nicer kissing you than any chambermaid in all my mother’s house, for there’s nothing bitter about your mouth!”

[Perceval, tr Owen, pp 383f]

Perceval takes food and drink, without asking permission, and departs, leaving the young woman still weeping.

Perceval, then, is cruel and unfeeling and not at all chivalric.  He does not treat the young lady as his equal.  He totally misapplies his mother’s advice about how to treat women.  His immaturity does not excuse his behaviour.  He gets off to a bad start in his career as a knight.

Perhaps the status of this lady reflects the low status of women in France, at the time, compared to the rights accorded to them in the Wales of the early Middle Ages (cf the laws attributed to Hywel Dda).  From the remarks made by the lady in Perceval, it is clear that she relies on her male friend to defend her; and for her it is unfortunate that he is temporarily absent.

(6) Parzival is like Perceval, at this point in the story.  (The lady is named Jeschute and she is a duchess.)  The account is long and circumstantial. It reflects badly upon the hero.  I quote a salient passage:

The lady wailed loudly.  He paid no attention to what she said but forced her mouth to his.  Wasting no time, he crushed her breast to his, duchess or no, and also took a ring.  On her shift he saw a brooch and roughly tore it off.  The lady was armed as women are: but to her his strength was an army’s.  Nevertheless there was quite a tussle of it.

[Parzival, tr Hatto, Book 3, p 77]

Conclusion

The fundamental theme of the three romances is the education of the hero concerning love, chivalry and government.  Evidently, Perceval and Parzival have a very long way to go before they can be regarded as educated!  Peredur, however, has already mastered basic courtesy.  The nature of his encounter with the lady is appropriate to the development of the overall story.  Perceval and Parzival’s behaviour, by contrast, is characterised by the use of brute force, so that they come across as villains rather than heroes, at least for the interim.

The Welsh story is shorter and more concise than the continental ones.  On the surface it is unsophisticated, in comparison with its continental analogues.  But it has beauties and subtleties of its of its own; and in some respects it deserves to be seen as more appealing than the other two.

References

Jones, G and Jones, T (translators) (1949), The Mabinogion, London: J M Dent (Everyman)

Goetinck, G (1975), Peredur: A Study of Welsh Traditions in the Grail Legends, Cardiff: University of Wales Press

Goetinck, G W (editor) (1976), Historia Peredur vab Efrawc, Cardiff: University of Wales

Hatto, A T (1980), Wolfram von Eschenbach: Parzival, Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin

Owen, D D R (translator) (1987), Chrétien de Troyes: Arthurian Romances, London: J M Dent (Everyman)

See also:

Jones, R M (editor) (1960), Y Tair Rhamant, Aberystwyth: Cymdeithas Lyfrau Ceredigion