Names in The Lais of Marie de France

I was intrigued by today's class discussion regarding the absence of names for the female characters in Marie's lais. It's especially intriguing given the historical and literary interest in Marie's own name and the absence of information regarding anything other than a first name that may or may not be the right name. Following Bloch's discussion of language and sexual jealousy in our reading for this week, I wonder if Marie consciously (or subconsciously) aligned the mastery of women with the mastery of language and, finding that total mastery is impossible, sought to indicate that by giving us a glaring textual gap as represented by the absence of women's names.

I will say, at the onset, that Prof. Wenthe's comment in class today that the absence of women's names could indicate the interchangeability of women in medieval times is both persuasive and, perhaps, likely. But, again following Bloch, if we are meant to read ourselves in the text, to even supplant the writer, then I find myself automatically trying to make Marie more of a feminist, or a proto-feminist, than good sense would probably allow. So I'll apologize for that in advance.

Bloch argues that sexual jealousy is analogous to Marie's fear of misappropriation, that just as "Marie is deviled by the linguistic duplicity of words, no matter how finely they are assembled, are unfaithful, they betray" (45), so are the husbands also aware of the potential duplicity of their wives - they may be both faithful or adulterous. Such suspicion translates into a desire to control or master - to lock into a tower, say - but Marie, from the onset, admits that she cannot totally master language. She states in the Prologue that the reader has a role to play in the acquisition of meaning, that meaning is something that happens in the space between the text and reader and not inherent in the words themselves. She cannot master language just as many of the husbands cannot control their wives. The absence of a name, the absence of a fixed meaning, could suggest to the reader that total mastery and control of anything, really, is impossible. The women, while not fixed in a name, are, concurrently, also not mastered. They are not mastered through language nor through their husbands' actions.

Admittedly, not being fixed in a name could just mean that you are expendable or interchangeable, which just takes us back to Prof. Wenthe's comment in class, but it could also mean that they, in some fashion, escape certain forms of mastery and control.

Marie de France in the Garden of Eden

The flesh and blood woman of Medieval Europe was often viewed as an evil temptress, ready to lead men into folly, as Eve did to Adam in the Garden of Eden, according to a selection by Angela Jane Weisl in Violence Against Women in Medieval Texts. With their social status so diminished, it can be argued that they are the largest group of “others” of their era.

But Marie de France flouts and perhaps parodies these notions in many of her Lais. In her stories, central female characters are often revered for their beauty. Love-struck knights eagerly served and attended to them. Even the maiden character in Guigemar, is portrayed as wise, as it is she who sets aside extra food for Guigemar and who urges him and his lady to proclaim their love for each other.

A striking religion-based example of this contrast between the real perceptions of women and Marie de France's portrayals came in Yonec, when the lady tells the knight she will only love him if can prove he believes in God. He complies and recounts the Garden of Eden. In his version of the story, however, Eve is not faulted.

He says: “I do believe in the Creator who set us free from the sorrow in which our ancestor Adam put us by biting the bitter apple.”

The lady, it goes without saying, accepts his entreaties.