Courtly Love: A Woman’s Way to Exercise Power

This is an essay written for Medieval History at Ursuline College. Originally written in the Spring semester of 2010. The assignment was to analyze multiple portrayals of courtly love, in both literature and film.

Courtly Love: A Woman’s Way to Exercise Power
Erica Raab

Courtly love was a product of its times. With the noble life becoming more gentle and mannerly, and courtly entertainment run by noble women, courtly romances were geared towards pleasing women. This no doubt, had an effect on noble men and women, informing them that this was what love was, and how they should conduct themselves. A patriarchal society, women were second-class citizens. But courtly love, with its wooing of women by any means, put a little power in the noble woman’s hands. Thus, noble women used courtly love to exert power in a world where they had little power.
In A Knight’s Tale, a peasant by the name of William Thatcher poses as a knight in order to participate in tournaments. Along the way, he is captivated by the beauty of a noble lady by the name of Jocelyn. (A Knight’s Tale) William immediately makes a fool of himself by following her on horseback into a church. She seems to enjoy him acting foolishly on her behalf, so addled by her looks and charm. Since Jocelyn is likely to be married off by her father, playing with men’s hearts may be her own way of exerting control over her life. Bored with men vowing to win tournaments in her name, the fact that William does not do so intrigues her. As their mutual interest in each other heightens, Jocelyn demands more and more poetry from William, and is angry when he cannot produce it on the spot. Feeling threatened by William’s drive to win, she tells him that if he truly loves her, he’ll lose a tournament for her, rather than winning. When he obeys, she changes her mind at the last moment, and commands him to win in her name, which he does. It is clear that Jocelyn relishes utilizing her control over William, despite caring about him.
In the Lais of Marie de France, it seems par for the course that when a suitor entreats a woman to love him, with enough repetition and persistence, the woman will eventually give in and accept his suit. In the Lais of Guigemar, Guigmar, a knight, is rescued by a beautiful woman locked away by her suspicious husband. (Marie de France) When he falls in love with this lady, he asks her to love him in return. At first she denies him, but he persists, and begs her not to play with his heart. This implies that noble women often did manipulate their suitor’s hearts. The woman gives in, and accepts his suit. (Marie de France) In the Lais of Equitan, The king Equitan makes a fool of himself to win his seneschal’s wife’s love. After much pleading on the king’s part, she gives in, then later feels no qualms trying to kill her own husband. (Marie de France) In the Lais of Chaitivel, one lady has four suitors, and cannot decide who to settle upon. Instead, she allows them to think she wants only them, distributes favors to her four suitors, and lets them do deeds in her name. Ultimately, three of her lovers die in endeavors pledged in her name, and the fourth is badly wounded. Thus she is punished by playing with other’s hearts. (Marie de France.) Erich and Enide is unusual in that the featured lovers are happily married, and Enide is a caring, unmanipulative, faithful responsible wife. When her husband begins to spend so much time with her that he neglects his lordly duties, she brings the dilemma to his attention so he can act appropriately. (De Troyes) In this, Enide is unusual as she does not relish he power over her husband, that he loves her so much that he neglects his other duties. Instead, she is responsible and dutiful, and tries to right the situation.
Courtly love was a method towards control, but not all women were noble. Courtly love was not the only way for a woman to exert power in a man’s world. A woman could chose to be a nun and thus avoid a marriage, but nuns were typically kept quiet by the church. The way around this was mysticism. By having revelations directly from God, mystics could side-step the church to get influence. (Hollister) Hildegard of Bingen was one of the foremost minds of her time, but her influence was lessened by her being a woman. (Hollister) She turned to mysticism later in her life, and was influential enough to have pictures drawn of her receiving the work of God from heaven and then handing the holy books to members of the church. (A Mystical Vision) Likewise, the virgin Liutbirg earned admiration and the respect of those around her by religious zeal and unusual, possibly holy behavior. (The Life of the Virgin Liutbirg) It is possible that some women became mystics solely for power, but one likes to think most did not.
Courtly love, such stories in demand in the courts by noble women, helped give women a little power in a day when there was little control to ultimately be exercised. It seems women enjoyed their suitors making fools of themselves to win the ladies’ hearts. Not all women chose to follow this route, some forbore marriage altogether and became nuns or female mystics to exert control over their lives. All in all, courtly love served women first and foremost.

Bibliography

A Knight's Tale. Brian Helgeland. Columbia Pictires, 2001. Film.
A Mystical Vision. Medieval Europe: A Short History. By Judith M. Bennett and C.
Warren Hollister. New York: McGraw-Hill, 2006. Plate 12. N. pag. Print.
De France, Marie. The Lais of Marie de France. London: Penguin Books, 2003. Print.
De Troyes, Chretien. "Erec and Enide." The Medieval Record: Sources of Medieval
History. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997. 291-294. Print.
Medieval Europe: A Short History. By Judith M. Bennett and C. Warren Hollister. New
York: McGraw-Hill, 2006.
"The Life of the Virgin Liutbirg." The Medieval Record: Sources of Medieval History.
Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997. 129-134. Print.

Hero of the Sun

I am currently writing a two-part fantasy series, called Hero of the Sun. I am halfway through the first book, titled Child of the Sun. Hero of the Sun follows the adventures of a young boy by the name of Luke Redforsen, from age one to nineteen. The story is set in the magically isolated country of Premia, on a fantastic planet called Vanity, where magic is commonplace and monsters prominent across the land.

Abandoned by his elvish parents, Luke is found and raised by a desert-dwelling tribe of Amazon women, called the Diajans. They are humanoid, with a genetic disorder that kills most male infants, so they are in desperate need of males. A despised race, their only King labors to gain the support and recognition of the conquering elvish race. Luke is sent to the Premian High Court to represent the new Diajan Province, now annexed to Premia. Suddenly surrounded by his own race, Luke must decide what identity to choose, that of a Diajan or a Premian. Meanwhile, he is involved in court intrigue, as well as a plot by the Diajan King to overthrow the Premian throne.

Luke is not your typical fantasy hero. He relies on his wits before magic or force, as more of a trickster character than a muscle-bound sword-slinger.

Warrior of the Sun, the second installment of HotS, has a more common plot. Luke returns from a four-year exile to right the wrongs he has perpetrated against Premia, and finally take his adult place in the new culture of the country, all while trying to save Premia from the greedy hands of the war-mongering world beyond Premia’s magical borders.

Throughout the Hero of the Sun series, I will explore these themes:

Racism
Feminism
Homosexuality/Bisexuality
Systems of government
Identity Crises
Healthy romantic relationships
Gender identity
Morality
Sex
Rape
Death
Adoption
Drugs
Spirituality and the afterlife

Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian was my favorite book to read for this class so far. I found Junior to be both funny and admirable. I admire his drive, his patience, and his persistence. I’m little skeptical about a stuttering and lisping kid becoming popular. But perhaps the fact that he was the only Indian in Reardan made him unique enough that he could get away with more differences. Penelope seemed a little clichéd, but she’s still young, so its forgivable. Rowdy is an interesting character, both friend and rival to Junior. The troubles on the reservation are downright heartbreaking – the limited opportunities missing. I was aware that there are alcohol problems in most Native American reservations, but damn. His parents are both alcoholics – his dad’s best friend dies of an alcohol-induced accident, his grandmother is hit by a drunk driver, his sister burns to death because she’s drunk, and on and on. Junior was right to try to get out of that life. He must have done a lot of thinking on that twenty-two mile trip to his school. There were some elements that I found a little clichéd, but satisfying nonetheless – these elements are used for a reason, after all – Junior’s getting the girl by dating Penelope, and winning the game against Junior. I like the art in this book, and how there are three drawing styles: doodles, comics, and realistic drawings. My sister is an artist and she draws in different styles as well.
I really enjoyed The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, and was disappointed to reach the end. I’ll definitely be reading this again.

Betsey Brown

At some points in Betsey Brown I had trouble figuring out what is going on. Vida seems prejudiced, both against blacks and whites – I wonder what she classifies herself as? I understand Betseys rage when Bernice deprives her of her private place of the tree outside her window – I too have a spot in the woods that I covet. It’s a good half-hour walk but well worth it: is secluded, with a great view in all directions, but no one can see you from where you are – and the ground is covered with velvet moss so thick and cushiony that I took a nap there once. This spot of mine is now going to be bulldozed and turned into houses and a neighborhood. Someday I will go back there, only to see it will be gone. It’s a bittersweet feeling.

Carrie has a very unusual fashion sense – two dresses over each other and a rope around her waist? Weird. But I like her personality – her wise, take-no-nonsense attitude. I like how she showed Betsey to run the house, and taught the other children how to help around the house properly.

I don’t think Jane makes a very good mother or wife – she doesn’t seem to be around the children enough, and doesn’t understand her husband’s selflessness. Still, she’s better than Vida. Greer needs to be around the kids more often, but other than that, I like him, and how he teaches his children about their black heritage.

I laughed out loud when, early on in the book, Betsey and her friends are counting their pubic hairs, curling them and putting hair cream on them.

Outline

Isolation

1. Intro
a. Hook
b. Thesis
i. Every teenager feels alienated during adolescence – this is necessary for identity formation.
2. Paragraph 1
a. Being alone lets you get to know yourself better.
i. Huck’s love of the wilderness. (Twain)
ii. Betsy’s special spot in her tree. (Shange)
iii. My introversion, love of forest preserve.
3. Paragraph 2
a. The teenager is transitioning from childhood to adulthood.
b. Alone, teenager must accept increasing responsibility
i. Betsy’s responsibility as oldest in her family. (Shange)
ii. My trouble with juggling illness and school.
c. Teenager may rebel against new responsibilities.
4. Paragraph 3
a. Erik Erikson’s psychosocial stage of identity vs. role confusion
b. Finding a place in the adult world for one’s self.
i. Huck Finn example.
c. Motivation questionable
i. My experience.
5. Paragraph 4
a. Alienation from adults
i. Examples from Hine
b. Alienation from teens
i. My alienation from my peers, maturity/illness drove off potential friends.
6. Conclusion
a. Summary of previous points
b. Parting shot:
i. It is through experience of isolation that we can appreciate company.

Huck Finn

I enjoyed Huck Finn, but I really don’t like Tom Sawyer. When they meet up again, it’s obvious how Huck’s adventure has changed him. He seems older and more mature than Tom. I was rather disappointed that he still followed Tom’s lead. Tom is still a child – with no thoughts towards the consequences of his actions or any regard for others feelings. Rather than acting decently towards others, particularly Jim, he causes all sorts of trouble. It’s not just that he’s a prejudiced white boy – he is thoughtlessly cruel to the white characters as well, with all his pranks and scares. Where Huck has grown to form his own personal values and has begun to think of others, such as Jim’s freedom and humanity, Tom thinks only of his own pleasure and what he perceives as the proper and most enjoyable way of doing things. I agree with Mark Twain that readers would not enjoy a more adult version of Tom Sawyer – he would be nothing more than a white bigot.

Charlotte Patel

This is an alternate version of Charlotte Temple.

Charlotte Patel
By Erica Raab

In groups or alone, the passengers filed onto the 747 jet. Even the economy class was spacious – the seats in columns of three, divided by two aisles. The middle row held three seats, rows of two on either side across the wide walkways. The seats were blue but faded, the lighting soft but bright. The air had that peculiar smell all passenger planes carry – of recycled air, cleanser, peanuts and people.

Anna Beauchamp stepped carefully off the Jetway and into the open hatch of the plane. The small gap between the bridge and the plane door always bothered her a little, the hard cement ground visible from high above. A cheerful, bottle blonde flight attendant welcomed the older woman aboard with a practiced smile.

She checked her boarding pass as she walked down the aisle, looking for seat 28A. A very young woman, Asian, no older than sixteen, sat in the window seat, pretty face slack with exhausted sleep. An infant slept on her chest, cradled in one careful arm, dark hair wispy and fine. She looked so tired Anne left her to her sleep. Anne had been looking forward to the window seat, but settled for the aisle seat. At least it wasn’t a middle seat, she thought. The woman stowed her baggage in the overhead compartment, after removing a pair of books from her carry-on – entertainment for the three-hour flight from O’Hare in Chicago, to LAX in Los Angeles.

She settled in her seat with her copy of The Seer and the Sword - young adult fantasy was her guilty pleasure, despite being a fully grown adult with children of her own. When the seatbelt sign blinked on overhead, Anne checked the girl’s seatbelt. It was fastened, so she didn’t bother to wake the young woman.

The dark-haired mother and child slept through takeoff. The baby woke as they rose to cruising altitude, pressure pushing painfully on sensitive eardrums, and began to wail, waking its mother. The girl rocked her baby, cooing in a foreign language to her child, then fished out a pacifier, popping it into the babe’s mouth. The small child’s face scrunched in annoyance, then subsided, beginning to suck strongly.

“Hello,” Anne said once the baby was soothed. “I’m Anne Beauchamp. Where are you headed?” The young woman blinked dark brown eyes, then smoothed sleek black hair behind an ear.

“India. More specifically, Bombay.” She said in perfect, British English. “I’m Charlotte Patel. Pleasure to meet you. Where are you going?” She had a lovely voice, soft but musical.

“My family is headed to California for Spring Break. My husband is with our two sons - in business class – we were able to upgrade three of our tickets, but one of us had to sit in economy class, so I elected to sit back here, since I don’t mind.”

“So you are on holiday?” Charlotte asked, tilting her head.

“Yes.”

“I remember taking vacations, back when I lived with my family, we…” The girl trailed off, then sighed.

“Yes?” Anne prompted, curiosity piqued. Charlotte smiled faintly, eyes distant. Her baby drooped on her lap, falling asleep again, pacifier still in her mouth.

“Perhaps… I was told it is easy to tell one’s troubles to a stranger that you will never see again. Would you like to hear mine?”

“I’ll listen, if you want me to.” Anne said quietly, trying not to sound eager.

“I made mistakes. But I cannot regret them. Lucy is the best mistake I ever made.

“I was born in Bombay. My father was a wealthy man, old money, older name. His forebears lost a lot of the money, but he gained much of it back when he started a for-profit charity organization. He met my mother and grandfather early on, before he got the company off the ground. My grandpapa was filing for a loan, as he was deeply in debt. They had been in good money before their fortunes turned ill. They were living in the slums when my father met them. Their story is a long one on its own, but I must tell mine – theirs is not mine to tell, not truly.

“I realize now how much they sheltered me. We had no television, and everything I read had to be approved, except for the Qur’an. I was fifteen when I met Jamal Montraville. He was full of pretty words, his face was even prettier. He seemed to be going places, high places. I thought myself in love with him, and he urged me to come with him to America, he was to go to University there, to become a doctor. He convinced me to go with him, obtained visas for both of us. He said it was a crime to keep me locked away, that I should go out and see the world, and become a modern woman. Modern woman,” Charlotte snorted bitterly, “As if that meant anything.”

“We left India for America. It was a long flight, with many connections. Jamal took me to Chicago, near the college he was going to – the University of Illinois Chicago. He set me up in a pretty apartment in the city, with money for rent, utilities and food. He was to stay at the college dormitories, but he visited me every day at first. I was so fortunate that my parents raised me to speak both Hindi and English, I don’t think I could have survived on my own if I had not spoken the predominant language of where I lived.

Jamal promised to marry me once he graduated, reassured me of his love so often that I thought I was merely giving him his husbandly rights whenever he came to me. We were careful. We used condoms, but two or three times they broke. He stared to drift away from me, as college got harder for him. I bought a small television, read whatever I wanted to. Maybe it was these new freedoms that made me change into something unfit for him. And then he met her. Julia Franklin. She was half-white, but her mother was Indian, and she was good friends with Jamal’s mother. She’d moved to America and met Julia’s father. The two mothers arranged a marriage between their children. Jamal had resisted it, with his promise to me, but she drove over from Cleveland, where she lived. As soon as they met they were infatuated with each other.

“I did not know this at the time. All I knew what that Jamal came less and less to see me. I had turned from fiancé to a kept woman. Just as I found I was pregnant, Jamal told me he was marrying his other woman, and told me everything. When I told him I was carrying his child, he told me to get an abortion. How could I?

“He married her, and stopped paying for my needs. It was mid-winter when I was evicted, and I was heavily pregnant, perhaps six months along. Rather than risk an endangerment charge, my landlord drove me to a homeless shelter. They were full for the night, but let me sleep on the floor. Someone lent me a pillow. After that, I slept in shelters, ate in food kitchens, and spent my time in libraries or train stations to keep warm. I read a lot in those days, to keep my mind off of what had happened to me. They found me a job, waitressing in an Indian restaurant. They liked me there. Maybe it was my pretty face, or something else. I do not know.

“I had Lucy in a free clinic. There was no money for a place to live, not with her needs, but a charity placed me in a home for women who were abused, who had children. They looked after my daughter while I worked. I saved up enough money to send my family a letter. I asked for their forgiveness, told them how low I had fallen. I saved my money, and bought the tickets to get back to Bombay.

“And here I am. I will fly from Chicago to Los Angeles, from Los Angeles to Tokyo, and Tokyo to Bombay. And hopefully my family will be there to welcome me and my child.” Charlotte finished, fingers stroking the soft black down on her infant’s head.

“That’s an amazing story.” Anne said, “I can tell you are a very strong woman.”

“Thank you. But I do not think I am. I cried too much back then. I think, if I had been somewhere else, I might have died in the winter cold. Who knows? I think I will ask my family to get a television when I return. Do you think they might?” The woman asked, suddenly looking girlish and entirely her own age. Anne shrugged.

“Well, I suppose they might. I don’t know them, though.”

After that, Lucy began to cry. Charlotte pulled out a blanket and began to nurse her.

The two woman spoke of inconsequential things for the rest of the flight after that. They shook hands before disembarking, and never saw each other again.

Charlotte walked away through the terminal, loaded down with baby and baby supplies. Her back was straight, and unbroken.