Love in Medieval Romance

This is a late submission to the February 2024 Carnival of Aros.  The Carnival is being hosted by sildarmillion, and the theme is “The Meaning of ‘Romance’ Across Time and Place”.


The theme for this month’s Carnival of Aros is “The Meaning of ‘Romance’ Across Time and Place”.  This subject – especially the “time” part – is one I have a lot of thoughts on.  I actually studied “romance” (in the literary sense) for my Master’s degree, and part of my work involved looking at the way the meaning of “romance” has evolved since the word entered English about 700 years ago.  I wrote a condensed version of my findings in “The History of Romance”, but in this post I want to talk a bit more about early “romance” literature and how it might influence our understanding of “romantic” love.

A “romance” originally meant a story written in French, particularly a story about knights and chivalry.  Even today, “romance” can still be used to mean “a spirit of adventure”, and “a romance” can mean “an adventure story”.  But the more common meaning of “romance” – a particular kind of love and relationship – also has ties to medieval literature.  Many medieval romances are about the love between a knight and his lady.  And love, in these stories, gets presented in particular ways.  Thus, you could say this love is “romantic” in a two-fold sense: it is “romantic” the way we now think of “romantic love”, and it is “romantic” in that it follows the conventions of the medieval “romance” genre.

The questions I started my research with were: “What is romance?”  “What makes love ‘romantic’?”  Romantic love in the modern sense is hard to define, but if you want to know what love in a medieval romance is like, all you have to do is read those stories and look at how love is described.  I read three Arthurian romances (translated into modern English) by the twelfth-century French poet Chrétien de Troyes, and from those stories I pulled out four themes:

  1. Love is authoritarian: If Love tells you to do something, then you have to do it, no matter how stupid, dangerous, or unpleasant it may be.
  2. Love is comforting: It gives you courage to take on unpleasant tasks and may even provide protection and healing.
  3. Love is exclusive: You can only love one person at a time.  (Or, at least, only one person in a particular way.)
  4. Love is isolating: It sets the lovers apart from the rest of society and may even put them at odds with it.

In order to explain these themes better, let me go through each of the three stories in turn.

“Lancelot” or “The Knight of the Cart”

This is the story that first established a relationship between Sir Lancelot (one of King Arthur’s knights) and Queen Guinevere (Arthur’s wife).  It starts with the queen getting kidnapped and Lancelot chasing after her.  After undergoing many trials, he is able to catch up with and rescue her.  The two then have celebratory sex.

It’s a perplexing story because, even though the relationship is both adulterous and treasonous, Lancelot and Guinevere are presented as sympathetic and even admirable.  Not once in the whole story does Chrétien criticise the relationship, even though it is a betrayal of one of the most respected kings in contemporary literature.  This has led many to speculate that Chrétien wrote the story under duress and privately hated it.  Some think that his over-the-top praise of the lovers is irony, and that Chrétien deliberately made the story ridiculous in order to distance the reader from it.

However, whether Chrétien was being ironic or sincere, he has a lot to say about the nature of love and how lovers should behave, and these descriptions would be influential on later writers.

The story is called “The Knight of the Cart” because near the beginning Lancelot loses his horse, and the only way to continue his pursuit of the queen is to jump onto a cart being driven by a “dwarf”.  In the world of the story (Chrétien claims), carts are used like pillories; the only people who ride in them are criminals who are being publicly shamed.  Riding on a cart is therefore extremely shameful.  However, Lancelot’s love for Guinevere prompts him to get on the cart anyway.  This is an example of the authoritarian nature of love:

“Reason, who does not follow Love’s command, told him to beware of getting in, and admonished and counselled him not to do anything for which he might incur disgrace or reproach.  Reason, who dared tell him this, spoke from the lips, not from the heart; but Love, who held sway within his heart, urged and commanded him to climb into the cart at once.  Because Love ordered and wished it, he jumped in; since Love ruled his actions, the disgrace did not matter.”

Later, Lancelot meets a girl who demands that he go to bed with her.  However, he refuses to betray Guinevere by having sex with her.  Not only that, but he seems to have no desire to have sex with her, showing love’s exclusivity:

“[H]is heart, which was focused on another, felt nothing for her; not everyone desires or is pleased by what others hold to be beautiful and fair.  The knight had but one heart, and it no longer belonged to him; rather, it was promised to another, so he could not bestow it elsewhere.  His heart was kept fixed on a single object by Love…”

Later on, Lancelot comes across a comb containing strands of Guinevere’s hair.  He takes the hair with him, apparently expecting them to protect or, at least, comfort him:

“He placed the hair on his breast near his heart, between his shirt and his skin.  He would not have traded it for a cart loaded with emeralds or carbuncles; nor did he fear that ulcers or any other disease could afflict him; he had no use for magic potions mixed with pearls, nor for drugs against pleurisy, nor for theriaca, nor even for prayers to Saint Martin and Saint James.  He placed so much faith in these strands of hair that he felt no need for any other aid.”

It is not clear if the hair actually protects Lancelot, but his love for Guinevere does seem to protect him at the crossing of the sword bridge.  This is a bridge that consists of a single long sword blade.  The only way to cross it is on one’s hands and knees, and, because the sword is sharp, it is impossible to do so without getting cut:

“He crossed in great pain and distress, wounding his hands, knees, and feet.  But Love, who guided him, comforted and healed him at once and turned his suffering to pleasure.”

Love also helps Lancelot in his subsequent fight with Meleagant, the queen’s kidnapper:

“Lancelot’s strength and courage grew because Love aided him, and because he had never before hated anything as much as this adversary.  Love and mortal Hatred, the greatest ever conceived, made him so fierce and courageous that Meleagant realized the deadly seriousness and began to fear him exceedingly, for Meleagant had never before faced such a bold knight, nor had any knight before ever injured him as this one had.”

Lancelot gives Meleagaunt such a beating that Guinevere is persuaded to intervene and plead for Meleagant’s life.  Lancelot obeys, in another example of Love’s authoritarian nature:

“One who loves totally is ever obedient, and willingly and completely does whatever might please his sweetheart.  And so Lancelot … must do her bidding.  No sooner had the last words flowed from [Guinevere’s] mouth … than nothing could have made Lancelot touch Meleagant or make any move towards him, even if he had been about to kill him.”

Finally, the isolating nature of love can be seen in the nature of the love itself.  Even though Guinevere and Lancelot are never criticised for their affair, it is still a dangerous secret they have to hide, and this puts them at odds with the rest of the world.  After they have sex, Kay is falsely accused of being the queen’s lover.  Lancelot cannot very well say, “No, no, it wasn’t Kay, it was me!”, and instead must fight to defend Guinevere’s honour.

“Yvain” or “The Knight with the Lion”

Yvain is a knight who kills another knight in combat and subsequently falls in love with and marries his widow, Laudine.  Later, he leaves home so he can spend some time at King Arthur’s court.  Laudine makes him promise that he will return to her within the year.  However, he breaks this promise, causing her to disown him.  Heartbroken, he wanders the countryside, having many adventures and also befriending a lion who becomes his companion.  Eventually, he convinces Laudine to take him back, and the two are reconciled.

Yvain does not meet Laudine under the best circumstances, given that he has just killed her husband.  However, he sees his new-found love for her as an authority he must not disobey:

“‘I am destined to be in [Laudine’s] power from this time on since Love wishes it.  He who refuses to welcome Love eagerly as soon as she draws near to him commits a felony and treason; and I say – heed it who will – that such a person does not deserve any happiness.  But I shall not lose on this account; I shall love my enemy for ever, for I must not bear her any hatred if I do not want to betray Love.  I must love whomever Love chooses.’”

When Yvain leaves to go to King Arthur’s court, Laudine gives him a ring.  She says it will protect him as long as he continues to love her, which is another nod to the comforting nature of love:

“‘…[N]o true and faithful lover, if he wears it, can be imprisoned or lose any blood, nor can any ill befall him; but whoever wears and cherishes it will remember his sweetheart and will become stronger than iron.  It will be your shield and hauberk; in truth, I have never before lent or entrusted it to any knight, but out of love I give it to you.’”

The fact that Yvain is the only knight she has ever given her ring to is also evidence that her love is exclusive.  Yvain’s love for her also seems to be exclusive: while wandering around by himself, he avoids getting into romantic entanglements with anyone else.

Cligés

This story starts when Alexander, eldest son of the Greek emperor, travels to England to serve in King Arthur’s court. There, he marries a woman named Soredamors, and the two have a son named Cligés.  When Alexander’s father dies, they return to Greece only to find that Alexander’s younger brother Alis has usurped the throne.  Rather than fight, the brothers make a pact that Alis can keep the throne so long as he agrees never to marry.  That way, he won’t have any children and the throne will pass to Cligés after him.  After Alexander’s death, Alis reneges on his promise and marries the princess Fenice.  However, as soon as Fenice and Cligés meet they fall hopelessly in love with each other.  Fenice pulls a Juliet and fakes her own death so that she and Cligés can run away together.  Cligés takes her to a secret fortress where the two hide out for a while.  Eventually, Alis learns about the deception, but then he dies, leaving Cligés and Fenice free to marry and take over the throne of Greece.

Love in this story is described as a master, showing its authoritarian nature:

“A servant should tremble with fear when his master calls or summons him, and whoever devotes himself to Love makes Love his lord and master.  Thus it is right that whoever wishes to be numbered among the court of Love should greatly revere and honour him.  Love without fear and trepidation is like a fire without a flame or heat, a day without sunlight, a comb without honey, summer without flowers, winter without frost, a sky without a moon, or a book without letters.  So I wish to challenge the opinion that love can be found where there is no fear.  Whoever wishes to love must feel fear; if he does not, he cannot love.  But he must fear only the one he loves, and be emboldened for her sake in all else.”

The line about being “emboldened” by love also points to love’s power to give comfort and courage.  Love certainly gives Cligés courage when he is rescuing Fenice from enemy knights:

“No wild beast – no leopard, tiger, or lion – seeing its young taken was ever so inflamed or furious or ready to fight as Cligés, for life would mean nothing to him if he failed to rescue his lady.  He would rather die than not have her back.  The great anger he felt at his humiliation increased the courage within him…”

Love also has a comforting effect on Fenice.  When she and Cligés are planning their escape, she declares that it doesn’t matter where they end up; she will be happy as long as they are together:

“‘Never in all my life do I wish to be served by any man but you.  You will be my master and my servant; whatever you do for me will please me, and I will never again be mistress of an empire unless you are its lord.  A simple place, dirty and dark, will be brighter to me than all these halls if you are there with me.  If I can see you and have you with me, I will be a lady of limitless wealth and all the world will be mine.’”

The reference to “master and servant” again points to the authoritarian nature of love.  Fenice also references the exclusivity of love when she talks about never letting anyone else serve her.  Fenice feels strongly that her love should only be given to Cligés, and for her this means she should also be sexually monogamous.  Like “Lancelot”, this is a story about an adulterous relationship, but it differs from “Lancelot” in important ways.  First, Alis is breaking his oath by marrying Fenice, making it him, not Cligés, who is guilty of betrayal.  Second, Fenice contrives to make it so that she and Alis never have sex, which means that, according to the logic of the time, they are not “really” married.  In refusing to have sex with her husband, she is able to remain sexually faithful to the man she truly loves:

“[I]f the emperor takes his pleasure of me, then I will have lost my own happiness and can expect no other. … [M]y love will always be constant, because nothing will ever cause my heart and body to be separated.  Truly, my body will never be prostituted, nor will it ever be shared.  Let him who possesses my heart possess my body, for I abjure all others.”

Still, even if it is not adulterous in the eyes of the reader, the relationship between Fenice and Cligés is still a secret they have to keep hidden, making this another situation where Love is isolating.  This isolation becomes physical when the two escape to their secret tower.  Here, Fenice must stay hidden from the rest of the world.  Fortunately, the tower is beautifully made and is connected to a walled-in orchard where the lovers frequently go to have sex.  Because they can be together in this place, they are happy, despite their isolation.

Conclusion

The relationships I have talked about are all explicitly sexual and/or married relationships.  As a result, the characteristics of love – being authoritarian, comforting, exclusive, and isolating – could be seen as “romantic” in the sense of “pertaining to romantic relationships” or in the sense of “pertaining to the romance genre”.  That said, not all relationships that are romantic (in the modern sense) have those characteristics.  And, conversely, a relationship could have all those characteristics and still be platonic.  It is thus possible for a relationship to be “romantic” in one sense, even if it isn’t in another.  And both understandings of “romance” can be useful.

See also:

6 thoughts on “Love in Medieval Romance

  1. sildarmillion says:

    This is so cool — I learned a lot! And I certainly can see how this understanding of “romance” influenced culture and maybe even people’s behaviours. Somehow it is making me think of Moulin Rouge — based on what I recall, I think all 4 themes can be applied, except what left me confused at the end of it was I couldn’t tell if the movie wanted us to celebrate how the lovers conducted themselves or was providing come commentary on it.

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    • Blue Ice-Tea says:

      Glad you liked it! 🙂 Yeah, it’s been a while since I saw Moulin Rouge, but it does seem to be operating on a similar kind of level. From what I remember, the movie does seem to want us to celebrate the lovers – with the understanding that this is a fantasy and not actually how you expect things to be in real life. (Similar to The Princess Bride, really.)

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