Back
Clifford Tsan
Arthurian Literature Research
Paper
Lancelot & Guinevere: A Timeless
Passion
There
are few tales of passionate, adulterous affairs which have affected
European and American culture as greatly as the tale of Sir Lancelot
and Guinevere. The countless retellings, spin-offs, and imitations in
both ancient and modern literature, folklore, poetry, and film
testify to the tale's staying power. Tales such as this last because
of their universality, because they contain something tried and true,
some theme or message which humanity continues to find present in its
everyday existence despite time's passage. To this extent, perhaps
the tale's lasting presence is not such a boon, but instead
incriminating; the implication is that humanity continues to wallow
in adultery and infidelity. Unfortunately, this is as true of modern
society as it was of any other. That does not diminish the power of
the tale, however, but instead its immediacy to our culture enhances
the story's poignance, so much so that the tale has survived a
millennium to be present in many different forms. Three notable
representations of the story stand out as testaments of their
respective cultures; each different telling reveals some slight and
other major differences in its audience's culture. Chrétien de
Troyes' The Knight of the Cart, Sir Thomas Malory's The Knight of the
Cart, and Jerry Zucker's film First Knight all center around the same
basic story and many similar themes, yet they arrive at uniquely
different conclusions. In doing so, each of the three imparts some
telling aspect of the culture from which it was born and to which it
was delivered.
Chrétien's
tales are a perfect reflection of the twelfth century, for their
excellence and genius coincided with a general cultural revival in
Europe. "In no field was the twelfth-century revival simply a
renaissance in the narrow sense of the term. Besides a rebirth or
regeneration of the ancient heritage, the century produced much that
was original and creative" (Hoyt 327). Indeed, Chrétien's
works reclaimed and forged anew the Arthurian legend; they were both
a reworking of older material and a genesis of new literature. It was
his conscious desire to create something new that separates his works
from previous Arthurian literature, and allowed him to make his
foundation as an author the grounds of his contemporary society. In
other words, because Chrétien was creating, rather than simply
retelling, he was able to infuse much of his own culture into his
stories. This is evident in Chrétien's narrative voice
throughout The Knight of the Cart, which is clearly that of the
educated twelfth-century scholar. His prologue is a good example of
that voice. Chrétien proposes to begin his story "without
flattery [of the lady of Champagne]," yet immediately goes on
to depict how someone else might flatter this same lady, as "the lady
who surpasses all women who are alive" (De Troyes 207). Such a
refinement of a witty tongue is not to be found in Bede, Monmouth, or
Layamon.
Yet
the aspects of The Knight of the Cart which tell us most of the
twelfth century are more than the author's voice. There are many
elements of the tale's plot which reveal certain things to the
reader. The clearest instance is the story's central theme of courtly
love. Nowhere is courtly love stressed greater than in the tale of
Lancelot and Guinevere, be it Chrétien's or Malory's; the
concept is of a knight sworn to his lady's service, a knight so
devoted to her that his loyalty to her is stronger than that towards
his king. It is no surprise that this theme figures so strongly in
Chrétien's tales. Courtly love "originated in Provence,
France, in the twelfth century. It received its first great impetus
from the court of Eleanor of Aquitaine" (Hastings 70). Marie of
Champagne, whom The Knight of the Cart is written for, was Eleanor's
daughter. Thus courtly love was a significant theme in literature of
the twelfth century, and doubtless Chrétien was well read. In
fact, he was arguably the master of depicting courtly love according
to its twelfth century rules. "The lady of the castle rather than the
lord became the object of the knight's service, his homage, and his
fealty. As his midon (a French word for lord), she required his whole
devotion even when it led to insult and disgrace in terms of the
fighting man's code" (Hastings 71).
There
is no better example of this than Lancelot's dishonor in riding in
the cart. The nobles and gentry of the twelfth century,
Chrétien's primary audience, would have understood this idea
completely; Lancelot is so faithful to his lady that he will suffer
any shame to rescue her. In the reader's eyes, then, Lancelot becomes
more honorable in his humiliation. Moreover, it is not the act of
riding in the cart that leads to Lancelot's shame, but his hesitation
before jumping in: "[Lancelot] hesitated but two steps before
climbing in. He would regret this moment of hesitation and be
accursed and shamed for it; he would come to consider himself
ill-used" (De Troyes 211). There could have been no single reader of
Chrétien's during the twelfth century who did not shudder at
the thought of riding in a hangman's cart. In that society, such a
thing was a great dishonor. Yet the rules of courtly love dictate
that no dishonor is greater than failing to serve one's midon,
especially a knight's failure to serve his lady, and to illustrate
this absolute, Chrétien artfully juxtaposes the shame of
riding in the cart against that greatest shame of
hesitation.
Such
a concept may seem alien to later cultures, but as it figures so
prominently in The Knight of the Cart, it tells us that
Chrétien's twelfth century audience was well versed in the
game of courtly love and had no difficulty understanding Lancelot's
dilemma. The other important culture-specific aspect of
Chrétien's romance is the concept of the supernatural. There
is a multitude of strange, supernatural objects and events in this
tale, ranging from the sword bridge to the heavy stone slab which
only Lancelot can lift. Such elements are not present in later
versions of the tale, yet the supernatural is much more prevalent in
earlier Arthurian legends. The reason for this is quite clear when
one looks at European history; it is not for no reason that the early
Middle Ages are known as the Dark Ages. Prior to the onset of
Christianity's widely universal grip on medieval Europe, pagan
religions of nature-related deities were abundant in Europe. These
religions account for much of the supernatural one encounters in
earlier Arthurian tales, especially those concerning Merlin, who is
tellingly absent from most stories written in later centuries. Yet
even in Chrétien's time, the supernatural was still a common
element of European's lives - not so much the witnessing of
supernatural events, but more often than not the fear and warding
against such things. "Pagan superstitions persisted in the
countryside although the clergy attempted to curb them. Fairy trees
and fairy rings were identified and visited in the woodland
[fairies were believed to bring good luck and wealth]. Every
village doubtless had its witch credited with magical powers"
(Hastings 57). Such a culture would have had no trouble reading of a
sword bridge. There was no tongue in cheek when describing a stone
slab that only one man - the central hero, of course - could
lift.
As
history progressed and science advanced, however, the supernatural
became more and more discreditable and a theme of the past. Thus it
is no surprise that the element does not appear in Malory's The
Knight of the Cart (nor in First Knight, for that matter.) Instead,
Malory focuses primarily on the story's central plot, altering
several details from Chrétien's to make the story more
accessible and believable to his audience. The elimination of the
supernatural is an example of this. Malory wrote his The Knight of
the Cart during the fifteenth century, a time far different from
Chrétien's era three centuries earlier. Christianity had been
organized into a single, cohesive religious blanket over Europe, in
the form of Catholicism (Hay ch.VII). The continent-spanning grip of
the Papal seat in Rome successfully eradicated most, if not all, of
the pagan traditions that had allowed for Chrétien's
supernaturalism in the form of witch hunts and persecution. Hence
Malory neglects to include the sword bridge. Similarly, he alters the
structure of the feudal system in his tale. Whereas Chrétien's
tale depicted numerous independent lords and barons, Malory mentions
only two royal figures, King Arthur, to whom everyone appears to be
subject, and King Bagdemagus, Mellyagaunce's father. This is a clear
reflection of the evolution of the feudal system in the centuries
between Chrétien and Malory; by the fifteenth century, the
days of the independent baron were over. Years of ceaseless warfare
had killed off most of the barons and lords and their familial lines,
and the strengthening of national identities paved the way for firmly
established monarchies to come to power in Europe (Wood ch.8). Thus
Malory's audience would have found the idea of baron after baron with
each his own separate loyalties disconcerting, if not comical; in
their society, the citizens of a nation were subject primarily to
that nation's King. The adjustments Malory makes to the story's
structure are fitting to his audience's tastes and
expectations.
A
greater change to the tale than these exists in Malory's portraits of
the characters. Several figures have been modified to some extent,
most notably Gawain and Mellyagaunce. Gawain himself is not in
Malory's tale; instead he presents the reader with Lavain. The
similarity between his Lavain and Chrétien's Gawain is
unmistakable, and the reader at once questions Malory's reason for
changing the character's name. In Chrétien's tale, Gawain is
his usual heroic self, but plays second fiddle to Lancelot's
prominence as the protagonist. The same is true of Lavain here; but
Malory's Gawain, especially in The Death of King Arthur, is almost an
antagonist to Lancelot. Thus perhaps Malory felt he would keep the
integrity and continuity of his tales as a collective volume intact
through the invention of Lavain.
The
changes made to Mellyagaunce have a far more significant effect on
the story. In both versions, this character has the traits of
cowardice, treachery, and selfishness, but in Chrétien's
version Meleagant is a vicious, cruel man. He is bloodthirsty and
eager to kill a helpless opponent, evident in his battles with
Lancelot wherein the hero refuses to fight after being commanded so
by his lady. In Malory's tale, however, Mellyagaunce is such a
"recreant knight" that he is afraid to do battle with Lancelot at
all. When Lancelot arrives at his castle to save Guinevere from her
confinement, Mellyagaunce begs the Queen "that ye would take all in
your own hands, and that ye will rule my lord Sir Lancelot"
--Chrétien's Meleagant would never once have ceded lordship to
Lancelot-- "And such cheer as may be made him in this poor castle, ye
and he shall have until to-morn, and then may ye and all they return
again unto Westminster" (Malory 59). Mellyagaunce went to a great
deal of trouble and devious scheming to capture Queen Guinevere, yet
now that Lancelot has arrived, not even having breached the castle
walls, the villain is ready to turn Guinevere over and tuck tail and
run. This is a far cry different from Chrétien's antagonist.
Perhaps the ultimate example of the difference between the two
villains of the same namesake is in the capturing of Lancelot. In
Chrétien's version, Lancelot is duped into confinement through
Meleagant's clever scheme involving a dwarf; in Malory's,
Mellyagaunce proposes to give Lancelot a friendly tour of his castle
and then drops the hero down a trap door. The act of treachery in the
first at least requires a bit of scheming and a flair for evil deeds;
in the latter, however, the villain is a simple, uncomplicated, and
unintelligent coward.
The
most notable change in Malory's treatment of the Lancelot and
Guinevere tale, however, is the change in the cart aspect of the
story. Malory retained Chrétien's title, The Knight of the
Cart, yet dropped the significance of the cart completely. In
Malory's version, Lancelot does not hesitate before jumping on the
cart, which here does not transport criminals but wood instead.
Lancelot in fact kills one of the carters for barring him from riding
on the cart! Thus the theme of shame is eliminated from the story;
yet Malory retains the theme of Lancelot's loyalty to his Queen.
Indeed, the passion between them is equally prevalent as it was in
Chrétien, and their affair is presented in the same ambiguous
light. The one constant in both of their societies was the abundance
of sin and especially adultery; while the Church preached against all
forms of sin, it never succeeded. "[Courtly love] was a
rebellion of both sexes against the strictures of the Church on the
enjoyment of sexual love" (Hastings 70). As the Church grew more
powerful and popular across Europe, to the extent that it was
universal by Malory's time, it can be surmised that this rebellion
grew also. Thus neither Chrétien nor Malory condemns the
adultery of their central characters - the very fact that Lancelot
always prevails seems rather to support it - and the reader is faced
with an ambiguous narrator. The issue of whether their affair is a
just product of true love or a sinful coupling that ought to be
punished is not answered in either story, and generally
avoided.
Medieval
audiences may have found this ambiguity comforting or refreshing.
Avoiding the issue of justice concerning the affair may have sent out
the message that adultery between common people was acceptable if
kept in the dark and unpronounced. Yet modern readers find it
troubling because as a whole, modern society prefers questions to be
answered rather than to linger. There are academics and a portion of
the society which is arguably more intelligent than the rest which
can appreciate a burning, lingering, and unanswerable question, but
it is undeniable that popular culture tends to find issues and
stories that are clearly black and white the most enjoyable. Perhaps
the best example of this is Hollywood. The films which gross the most
money are those which deal with cardboard, one-dimensional characters
who are either good or evil; in the recent film Independence Day,
American soldiers are pitted against a stock-villain alien race
intent on complete annihilation of the human race. The movie went on
to be one of the highest grossing films of all time, and that fact is
very revealing of modern popular culture. It is much easier for an
audience to view a storyline wherein the issues are clearly
delineated between good and evil, just and unjust, rather than a
troubling storyline where such issues are hard to discern.
Jerry
Zucker's First Knight falls somewhere in the middle. It is neither
completely differentiated between right and wrong, nor is it as
dubious and indeterminate as Chrétien or Malory. The most
prominent causes of this are the changes made to the characters. The
story itself has been altered to incorporate Malory's The Death of
King Arthur, such that Malagant becomes Arthur's final nemesis rather
than Mordred; but such changes to the story are mere Hollywood
conveniences, allowing the filmmakers to present a more traditional
conclusion to the Lancelot and Guinevere tale than The Knight of the
Cart would otherwise allow. Since the film centers around Lancelot,
Guinevere, Arthur, and Malagant, the modifications in these four
characters are what reveal the most telling aspects of our modern
society and what separate this version from Chrétien and
Malory so dramatically.
Arthur
and Malagant are presented as polar opposites. Arthur is old, with a
noble but slightly heavy bearing and a regal gray beard. Malagant is
young, in his physical prime and deadly with a sword. Arthur
represents freedom and peace, whereas Malagant believes the way to
rule is to instill fear in subjects' hearts. These elements are all a
far cry from their traditional counterparts. In the legends, Arthur
is roughly the same age as Lancelot, and while he rarely fights
battles in Chrétien or Malory, it is not suggested that he is
out of shape. And the absolute finality of his lordship is never
questioned. The Arthur of First Knight implies that he rules because
the people allow him to do so; the Arthur of old ruled because it was
his right to do so. Malagant, likewise, has little in common with
Meleagant or Mellyaguance, save for his trickery. This Malagant is an
imposing and fearless warrior. He shows none of the cowardice that
colors Mellyaguance's character, and he outdoes Meleagant in his
ruthlessness. Both Arthur and Malagant have been "updated" for our
society. Americans would have a difficult time relating to a ruler
such as the traditional Arthur; in First Knight, Arthur seems more a
democrat than a monarch, and the equality of his Round Table suggests
a republic. Malagant is a more evil and sinister villain when
cowardice is subtracted from his character's composition. The result
is simple: moviegoers have a much easier time loving Arthur and
hating Malagant than they otherwise would.
The
changes in Lancelot and Guinevere also reflect our culture's love of
simpler archetypes. Lancelot is now a wanderer, a man with no purpose
in life and a troubled past. If the name Lancelot was removed from
the role, it would sound similar to so many other modern movies.
Americans have been attracted to this archetype for decades, ever
since James Dean was the famous rebel without a cause. The role
reflects many defining themes of American culture, from the self-made
man to the life of the open road, and is further developed in the
love aspect. Lancelot falls in love with Guinevere at first sight and
he is bold and unafraid in making his advances towards her. It is
arguable that no one could have played this part of the role better
than Richard Gere, known for his masculine, American male bravado
when it comes to courtship. Indeed, Lancelot represents nothing of
ancient English nobility and chivalry, but every American male ideal
the filmmakers could think of. He is an amalgam of John Wayne, Clint
Eastwood, the Fonz, and Humphrey Bogart, given the name Lancelot as
if in afterthought. Lancelot's character has been altered so greatly
in order to give the mass audience what it wants; not a knight who is
so intent in his love and loyalty to Guinevere that he would cut
himself on a sword bridge, but the archetypal American male action
hero. This particular Lancelot shows nothing of his former knightly
virtue. He kisses Guinevere when unbidden and unwanted, he shows
Arthur little respect in their first meeting together, and he cries
at one point when he feels that Guinevere will never requite his
love. The Lancelot of old would die of shame if he knew what he had
been turned into.
Yet
audiences find this new hero much more believable than his namesake,
as he reflects our culture's expectations in a protagonist.
Similarly, Guinevere has been transformed from the helpless Queen
into a lady of strength and nobility in order to meet modern
society's ideal of a heroine. American moviegoers would be outraged
with the Guinevere of old, a woman who had to constantly be rescued
and could do nothing for herself. First Knight's Guinevere takes
action into her own hands, even when she is being rescued by
Lancelot. She asks Lancelot for that passionate second kiss; it is
not simply given to her. As abominable as the phrase may be, this
Guinevere is clearly a "Guinevere of the 90's."
The
result of all of these changes is that the tale itself is updated to
fit into our society's tastes and expectations of these characters.
We can more easily identify with characters who fit our own societal
mold than with characters from another age. Yet the important
question to be asked in the process of this updating is whether the
integrity of the original tale is lost or compromised during these
changes. Fifteenth century adherents to Chrétien's works may
have asked the same question upon the publication of Malory's tales.
In the case of First Knight, the integrity of the original tale is
clearly done away with; however, it is replaced with an integrity of
its own. The movie works well on its own level, within the realm of
modern society. In a similar fashion, Malory's Knight of the Cart is
ultimately a different story from Chrétien's, yet both have
their own unique integrity and unquestionable worth as
literature.
The
reason all three tellings of the Lancelot and Guinevere tale can be
considered valuable pieces of literature is that each reflects its
culture so well. Chrétien and Malory both capture the myriad
of ways in which elements such as the supernatural, or courtly love,
or chivalry and nobility versus cowardice and treachery were all
evident in their cultures. As such, their works appealed highly to
their audiences. Similarly, First Knight captures the archetypes of
hero, villain, and lover in our own culture without completely
debasing them to stereotype. The actors are allowed sufficient space
and dialogue to develop Lancelot, Guinevere, and the rest into more
than stock heroes and villains. The most striking aspect of the first
two tellings of the tale, however, are their appeal beyond the
confines of their own audiences. Readers in the centuries following
Chrétien and Malory's time enjoyed the tales enough to propel
them into our own era, to be turned into movies like First Knight.
The appeal is that even though they have so many diverse elements, so
many cultural-specific themes and issues, the central story of a
swelteringly passionate and adulterous affair remains applicable to
any given society. And thus it will be interesting to see whether
First Knight catches on with audiences to come. Its affair was
admittedly less than sweltering, although the one scene in which
Lancelot and Guinevere finally kiss is unforgettable. The passion
itself, however, is questionably consummated - the two never make
love. Hence it remains to be seen whether First Knight will join the
ranks of Arthurian legend alongside Chrétien and Malory's
works. However, so long as society continues to commit the sin of
adultery, to be helpless in the face of a burning and passionate
love, one can be certain that the tale of Lancelot and Guinevere will
be retold again and again.
Works Cited
De Troyes, Chrétien. Arthurian
Romances.London: Penguin Books, 1991.
Hastings, Margaret. Medieval European
Society, 1000-1450 New York: Random House, 1971.
Hay, Denys. The Medieval Centuries.
Great Britain: Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1964.
Hoyt, Robert S. Europe in the Middle
Ages. New York: Harcourt, Brace, & World, Inc., 1966.
Vinaver, Eugene, ed. King Arthur
& His Knights: Selected Tales by Sir Thomas Malory. London:
Oxford University Press, 1975.*
Wood, Charles T. The Age of Chivalry:
Manners and Morals 1000 - 1450. New York: Universe Books,
1970.
Additional References
Ferber, Stanley, and Sandro Sticca,
ed. The Eleventh Century. The Center for Medieval and Early
Renaissance Studies State University of New York at
Binghamton.
Levy, Bernard, and Sandro Sticca, ed.
The Twelfth Century. The Center for Medieval and Early Renaissance
Studies State University of New York at Binghamton.
Back