Kristen Getz
European Literature I
25 April 1996
A Portrait of Love in the Middle Ages
Chretien de Troyes' romance, Ywain: The Knight of the
Lion, provides an important insight into the concept of love
in the Middle Ages. Love is exalted in the work as the highest
pursuit of man, with the lady as its most prized reward. The
narrator of Ywain portrays Love as a sort of god, with its own
religious code to be followed by its faithful "disciples" (Troyes
p. 1). All is to be done in the name of Love in this work,
and all glorious endeavors are to point directly to the favor
of a lady. As the story progresses, however, a very different
understanding of Love is revealed. Although Love is idealized
and even worshipped, the actual attitudes and actions of those
supposedly held captive by it imply that another force is at
work. Upon examining the portraits of Love, of the noble knight,
and of the lady herself as painted in this tale, the true motives
and goals behind courtly love are laid bare.
The narrator of Ywain describes Love in impossibly
idealistic terms. Love is granted extraordinary power and
control, as when Ywain first sees his lady. The emotions he
experiences are described in battle terminology: "Love had
conducted a raid on his land and had succeeded completely in
taking her quarry. His enemy had led away his heart..." (Troyes
p. 23). This imagery suggests that Ywain is no longer in control
of his emotions, and that he is subject to his captor, Love.
The knight is wounded in the war, as the metaphor continues,
and the lady becomes the physician who worsens his mortal hurt
(p. 23). Thinking of love in this way leads Ywain to confess,
"That one whom Love chooses, it is up to me to love" (Troyes
p. 25). Love is seen as an independent force, to whom everyone
is subject. So, although Ywain has slain the lady's husband,
he has no choice but to love her and pursue his happiness with
her.
Once he has begun to love her, Ywain is seen as completely
vanquished and held captive, for, "No lover is really outside
prison" (p. 33). Therefore, when the knight is to take his
leave of Laudine, it is seemingly impossible for him to do so
totally. He has "...left his heart behind...she who remained
at home held and joined herself so closely to that heart that
he did not have the strength to draw it away" (p. 45). All
of this insists that the love of a knight for a noble lady leaves
him powerless to resist, and that she is the warden of his
captive heart. A closer examination of the prisoner, however,
uncovers quite a different philosophy.
First, it is important to note the manner in which Ywain
falls in love with the noble lady. It is not by watching her
gentle and courteous behavior, as he sees her continually tearing
her clothes and weeping over the death of her husband. Rather,
he loves her solely for her beauty, as he muses, "...never before
have I desired so much to love. I pine for her beautiful
hair...there were never such exquisite eyes...I never saw a
face so admirably shaped or so fresh..." (p. 25). He longs
for her to cease her mourning, not because he is distressed
at her pain, but because she is messing up her hair and
scratching her perfect skin.
When Laudine has unwittingly won the love of the valiant
knight, he professes it to her in great boasts: "...my heart
will not turn from you nor will you find it elsewhere...I can
think of nothing else; I give myself wholly to you...I love
you more than myself..." (p. 34). This confession would be
highly admirable were it possible to support it with actions,
but Ywain does just the opposite. The wedding has no sooner
ended, his goal accomplished, than the knight is persuaded to
leave his bride in pursuit of glory, supposedly to remain worthy
of her. The scene in which he asks to take leave of her is
very telling. She grants him up to a year to be away, but he
protests: "My Lady, this period would be too long" (Troyes
p. 44). In spite of that, he adds, "Still, a man may intend
to come back at once although he is not aware what the future
may hold for him" (p. 44). Ywain's objection to the permitted
year is only skin-deep, as he tries to get her to "...make
allowance for unavoidable delay" (p. 44). It can be seen early
on in their relationship that Ywain's noble proclamations of
love fade as quickly as they are formed.
Ywain, and his close companion Sir Gawain, would defend
himself with the notion that engaging in tournaments are for
the benefit of the lady, "...for it is not fitting that she
love him if his valor and fame are left behind" (p. 42).
However, if such exploits are performed in the name of Love,
how is he able to forget her, and still achieve such success?
After the date by which Ywain was to return to his wife, he
is still competing, and is continually rewarded, as he
"...carried off all the glory" (Troyes p. 45). It might be
argued that the ring Laudine gave him was to protect and
strengthen him, making him "...more durable than iron" (p. 44),
but the conditions which must be met in order for the ring to
be effective were that the knight "...keeps his beloved in mind"
(p. 44). This was the very thing Ywain failed to do, showing
clearly that he was able to succeed without Love.
The fact that Ywain was so quick to forget his commitment
to his wife, and the way he responds to that, are also
significant. The incredible boasts he made before they wed
stand in stark contrast to his complete negligence. No
life-threatening force kept him away, no noble cause, simply
the company of his friends and the rush of glory gained. Ywain
"...suddenly bethought himself" (p. 46), implying that he has
completely banished his love from his mind, as Lunete scolds
him: "...never since have you thought of this agreement" (p.
47). Upon realizing his folly, Ywain is "...bereft of reason..."
(p. 47), and his desire is "...to take to flight all
alone...where there was no man or woman, and no person would
know any more about him..." (p. 47). The knight has broken
the strictest code of honor--that of keeping one's word--and
his immediate response is not to be reconciled to his lost love,
but to flee the eyes of society. Ywain is most distressed at
losing his honor, not at losing his Love, which becomes evident
in subsequent adventures and relationships.
When the knight regains his sanity, he seeks to repair
his reputation and earn honor before returning to his lady
(ironically, the very thing he left her to do). His travels
bring him to a distressed lion, whom he saves and befriends.
This friendship soon surpasses the love between Ywain and
Laudine, for the commitment is far stronger. After being rescued
by the knight, the lion "...was always in his presence..."
(Troyes p. 57). The lion then endears himself to Ywain by a
simple act, and Ywain "...took him as his companion all the
days of his life..." (p. 58). A relationship between man and
beast has more value to Ywain than does his marriage, for he
easily abandons his wife, but is hereafter never without the
lion. This striking commentary is proven when the love the
lion bears Ywain is greater than that which the knight holds
for his lady.
When Ywain encounters his lady's spring, he is torn by
remorse and sorrow. He appears dead to his companion, the lion,
who immediately attempts to kill himself. Ywain wonders at
this, and at his own inability to do the same, in light of the
pain he feels in losing his lady. He asks, "What am I doing,
then, if I do not kill myself?" (p. 59), and, "Have I not seen
this lion who was so sad because of me that without delay he
wanted to thrust my sword through his chest...?" (p. 60). The
lion's enduring loyalty to his master is in stark contrast to
Ywain's feeble refusal to act upon his regret as he believes
he should. This relationship highlights the superiority of
"male" friendship over the Love that has been proclaimed as
all-encompassing and even fatal. The priority of these
relationships is also evident between Ywain and Sir Gawain.
The encounter between these two most noble knights serves
to give the reader a picture of true friendship between men
of the Middle Ages. Ywain and Gawain are to meet in combat,
each defending the cause of a sister against the other, yet
they do not recognize each other. The narrator spends a far
greater amount of time describing the Love/Hate conflict between
these two than is ever spent on the love between Ywain and
Laudine, which is supposedly the entire focus of the romance.
The former description asserts that, although they are about
to fight each other, Ywain and Gawain have a "...complete and
perfect love..." (Troyes, p. 100) between them. The fact that
one will try to kill the other does not diminish that love in
the least, as it is clear the lose "...will not know whom to
blame" (p. 101).
There is no loser, however, and the knights discover they
have been fighting each other. Upon realizing this, Ywain
immediately proclaims himself defeated. This is no small matter,
as can be seen in Gawain's response: "You would do this for
me?" (p. 104). In offering victory to his friend, Ywain
stands to lose his honor, as well as that of the damsel he hoped
to defend. The very thing he claimed he had to seek out of
love for his wife, he is willing to give up out of love for
his friend. This is the most prominent circumstance in which
can be seen the superiority of male friendship over courtly
love, which calls in to question the very value of it.
The true worth of Love may also be seen by looking closely
at the lady whom all of this is supposed to surround. Laudine,
whose name is mentioned only once, though she pervades the story,
is not the prison guard, physician or captor the narrator
introduces. When Ywain falls in love with her, the lady's frame
of mind is everything his is not. The knight's passionate
confessions of love are met with diplomatic practicality, as
she seeks nothing but to have her spring defended (Troyes p.
34). Once that is secured, she is willing to "...[reach] an
agreement..." not out of love, but "...in the face of the
need..." (p. 35). Laudine has no romantic, idealized notions
of love, but rather a level-headed approach to making sure the
needs of her people, not just herself, are being met.
This raises another important issue, that of the
defenselessness of women in this time. Lunete is aware of the
dire need of protection for the spring, and uses that
vulnerability to plead Ywain's case, as she asks, "Now tell
me,...who will protect your domain...?" (p. 27). This question
is what brings her into agreement with Lunete's plan and Ywain's
love, "...for she felt great anxiety over the defense of her
spring" (p. 29). A lady in such a precarious position, who
is marrying out of desperate need, can scarcely be considered
a powerful, controlling force in the cause of Love. This is
also confirmed by the strong element of misogyny in the romance
Ywain makes a subtle, yet noteworthy misogynistic comment
while contemplating the hopelessness of his love for the lady.
The knight is aware that it would be difficult for her to love
the man that slew her husband, yet he finds hope in that "...a
woman has more than a thousand hearts" (p. 25). This statement
suggests that women are unstable in their emotions, and that
men can expect to take advantage of their fickleness. Such
a notion is not supported by the text, in that Laudine is the
one who remains clear-headed and steadfast, while Ywain must
wander through many lands before learning stability. His
statement, therefore, is provided solely out of the misogyny
prevalent in that era.
The most remarkable example of this unwarranted attack
occurs when Laudine is still resisting remarriage, when she
is described as "...[having] a foolish quality which other women
also have...namely, that they refuse the very thing they desire"
(Troyes p. 28). According to this statement, she cannot be
refusing Ywain because she has just lost her lord and does not
desire a second one so soon, but simply because she is unwilling
to admit that he is what she really wants. The narrator protects
himself against anyone who would deny this by proclaiming,
"...indeed, nearly all possess it even though they do not own
their folly" (p. 28). Although these incidents seem small,
they cast a bright light on the truth of the idea of courtly
love.
Another seemingly insignificant, but revealing, thread
is woven through the character of Lunete. This damsel is
portrayed as wise, corageous and loyal, not to mention
beautiful, as she is the confidant to Laudine and the rescuer
of Ywain on more than one occasion. Yet she also has a
misogynistic tone when she exclaims to her lady, "It is indeed
apparent that you are a woman, foa a woman always becomes angry
whenever she hears someine offer advice" (p. 28). She
continually reminds Laudine of her desperate circumstances,
urging her toward Ywain's cause, for which she fights more
than once. Lunete seems to be the most clear-minded and virtuous
character, yet at the end, she is alone. Perhaps this is a
commentary on the fate of women who are wise and self-sufficient,
or perhaps on the kind of women more likely to be married.
In either case, the end of the romance asserts that "...Lunete
lived in great happiness. Nothing was lacking to her joy..."
(Troyes p. 113).
Meanwhile, the only way in which the knight and his lady
can be reconciled, and thus find "happiness" is through deceiving
Laudine. It is not her own wisdom or virtue, nor is it the
power of Love that brings her to this end, but rather it is
the clever scheme of her trusted friend. The lady laments,
"If it were not too cowardly and contemptuous an act to commit
perjury, never would we be brought together at any cost" (p.
113). Yet, she must acquiesce, as she admits "I am bound to
be accorded with him" (p. 113). To this resentful and weary
commentary, Ywain "...listened and perceived that his affairs
were progressing well..." (p. 113). It is of no importance
to him that his love does not want him, but is forced through
trickery to take him back. This is anything but a tribute to
the control ladies have over the men who love them. It is clear
that they are quite powerless and subject to the wills of men
who use this courtly love in the same way they use their
adventures and exploits--as a means through which to increase
their own honor.
Works Cited
Troyes, Chretien de. Ywain: The Knight of the Lion. Trans. Robert W. Ackerman, Frederick W. Locke and Carleton W. Carrol. [City,] Illinois: Waveland Press, 1992.
Rev 12/96