Rebecca (Sofia) Hernandez

Western Europe in the twelfth century produced works that influenced poetry and literature for centuries. One of the authors who influenced writing style and themes was a poet known as Marie de France, the first female poet of France. Although she was supposed to have been born in France, hence her name, she lived in England most of her life, and wrote her works in an Anglo-Norman dialect. Accounts state that she has heard her lais performed, and one of them was dedicated to a ‘noble king,’ probably King Henry II. Her exact identity is unknown, but she was assuredly a woman of noble birth, well-educated, speaking multiple languages and with a strong passion for writing. This points to the type of woman she was and the audience she was targeting. The most known about her, however, is inferred from the style of her writing and some allusions to her from other authors. 

Some of her works, infused with magical and romantic themes, include twelve poems of short lyrical verses called lais. One of these lais, Lanval, is about one of King Arthur’s knights. He is a noble, valiant man who has accomplished much and served his king well. Handsome, young, and intelligent, it is surprising that he has received no credit for his loyalty; instead of becoming bitter, Lanval copes with being neglected and honorably continues to carry out his duty. One day, by himself on a field, two beautiful women show him a tent decorated with such richness that  “no king exists beneath the sky / who could afford all, possibly” (de France, 91-92). A woman of unparalleled beauty inside reveals herself to be a fairy from another land. Seeing how his honor has been neglected, she has found him worthy of giving herself to him as well as plenty of material wealth. However, he must never tell anybody about them. He leaves with excessive money, which attracts attention and gets him invited to the king’s castle. There, he broods over his love and how he wants to return to her. Guinevere, King Arthur’s wife, approaches him and asks him to sleep with her because she finds him handsome. He revokes her rather harshly. Offended, she accuses him of being gay. Enraged, he tells her that he has a love so much greater in beauty than she that the queen could not even compare to her lowest handmaid. Weeping, Guinevere tells her husband that Lanval made a move on her and when she rejected him, he dishonored her. Lanval is imprisoned and sentenced to death unless this woman’s existence could be proved. Despairing, Lanval prepares for death; however, the two fairies from before reveal themselves. Although either would have been a good candidate for Lanval to excuse himself, he stays silent, and the original fairy comes and saves him. Together, they return to the land she came from, never to be seen again.

Despite being one of the first female authors with considerable influence, like in many works of literature of the time period, Lanval’s fairy lover is not given a name. By not giving her a name, it takes away from her identity and reduces her to an archetype, a possession — she is a thing to proudly show off and deeply cherish, the way one might care for a boast about a car. This leads to two conflicting points in the poem’s plot: a question of how much power the fairy truly holds and whether or not Lanval held any authentic love for his fairy lover. As to the first point, it would seem as if the fairy held every advantage imaginable. She is the embodiment of every good and pleasant thing the world can offer. She clearly holds a position of power even in her world, being superior to her handmaids. Her wealth is abundant and the richest man’s wealth on earth could not even compare to the fine things she possesses. Even her beauty places her above every human woman: she is the most beautiful creature any man can say they have seen. All of these things she offers to Lanval simply on the explanation that she has seen his good behavior go unrewarded and offers herself in place of human recognition. Lanval, in turn, is very willing to comply with her rule and only reveals his secret when he loses his head in a moment of anger and repulsion. He regrets his decision immediately but sees he cannot take it back. Imprisoned, the barons were ordered to overlook him for fear that he would not take care of himself sufficiently, and “might go mad, or die” (de France, 414). Yet, when taken from an objective viewpoint, it is hard to say how authentic his love for her is. Although her loss drives him to insanity, it is uncertain whether it is a wholesome grief over someone genuinely loved or a depraved depression over losing something that offered him so much. Out of everybody, she alone acknowledged his hard work, showered him with gifts, and has what is most emphasized — an extreme beauty that trumps every other creature on earth. If her wealth were not present to dazzle him, or if her beauty was not laid out for him to consume, it is difficult to say whether or not Lanval would still have loved her so deeply. Although there was one mention of them talking after having intercourse, there was no other comment about her personality or anything else beyond material worth about the fairy. 

A major clue that the fairy queen was ultimately not truly loved by Lanval was her lack of a name. No matter how suicidal Lanval became thinking he would never see her again, it does not prove a true love for her. His tears could be compared to a child losing a favorite toy. By not giving her a name, de France reduces the fairy to a collection of qualities, someone beautiful, rich, and powerful, but without a distinguishing identity. This is further emphasized by the way the other men and knights view her when they see her and her handmaids, looking “on delightedly” (de France, 477) at their beauty. While their beauty is used in their favor, it does not lend respect to them. The men are more in awe of their looks and wealth than anything else they have to reveal.

Surprisingly, at the appearance of the two handmaid fairies, Lanval does not take them as an out and use them to escape death, although their beauty is competent enough that they assure him “one of them surely your amie!” (de France, 523). Yet again, it cannot be supposed that it is true love that motivates this, the same way it is not assuredly love that makes him shed tears. Driven beyond himself, Lanval only speaks the truth, that they are not his love. It is clearly demonstrated in the beginning that his character is truthful and honorable. This claim to truthfulness may also be motivated by the fact that he knows the fairy may hear him, even if she does not join him. Still trying to please her, he stays true to her — but none of this is proof of an authentic love.

In the end, this story does little more for them than what it presents on the surface. The only power and respect that can be given to the fairy is what the reader can suppose about based on the story. Other than speculations about how much influence the fairies actually have, their motives and their true personalities are unknown and not even expressed through emotion or response to emotional distress. The audience knows Lanval’s character based on his nobility and sense of honor; we see how he values his king and position as a knight and know exactly what he thinks about Guinevere’s unwanted approach and his despair over the deprivation of his fairy. Of the fairy herself, nothing is concretely known except for material, external qualities. One could argue that this is actually all there is to the fairies’ personalities. Being as powerful and wise as they are, their personalities are erased to being like angels or other unworldly beings, with their priorities being fixed above impulsive emotional reactions or personal tastes. Yet if this were true, this actually takes away from the fairy’s dignity. For one, there would need to be a reasonable explanation for why she chose to give herself to Lanval if she is supposed to be devoid of depth. For another, the very fact that she considered giving her body to him in recompensation for his neglect makes her exactly how he seems to view her: a toy, a possession, a prized thing to admire and love and cherish, but ultimately use for his own pleasure. In all perspectives, although this fairy seems to hold every power, she is given none of it. She may be the hero of the story by saving Lanval from death, but like he was before her introduction, she is unrecognized and taken for granted. This reflects how many noblewomen were likely viewed in this day: as important figures, useful for arts and literature and entertainment, but nonetheless never truly valued. Whether de France is projecting her own views of women onto this or making an unconscious observation of the role women were given in her society, the truth stands that, like herself, the fairy goes unnamed and passes through the story without any credit given directly to her.