Before I'm overwhelmed by a massive student paper deluge, I thought I'd try to draft my paper for the "Biopolitics" session organized by the Arthurian Literature Discussion Group for the upcoming MLA convention in Los Angeles held during the first week in January. As I was working my way through this, I realized how HELish it really is (hopefully without the second "l"!). My reading of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, in particular, explores the meanings and histories of enigmatic words in the prologue such as "winn" (could mean "strife" or "joy") and "depreced" (could mean "conquer" or "release"). If you have any suggestions or comments I would love to read them.
For
admirers of Ernst Kantorowicz’s The
King’s Two Bodies, the myth of King Arthur has an irresistible appeal.[i] Arthur’s identity as rex quondam rexque futurus resonates
with Kantorowicz’s analysis of the theological character of early modern royal
succession, whereby the death of a king (the body natural) is a recurrent
episode in the metaphysical life of sovereignty (the body politic). Scholars have identified this juridical
sempiternity of the sovereign in late medieval incarnations of a King Arthur who
never dies or dies and returns in messianic fashion.[ii] Yet, as Giorgio Agamben points out,
Kantorowicz fails to acknowledge the absolutist nature of sovereignty that this
political theology entails. Rather
than merely perpetuate the dignitas
of the kingship, Agamben suggests that “the metaphor of the political body
appears . . . as the cipher of the absolute and inhuman character of
sovereignty.”[iii] In other words, the expense of
the principle le roi ne meurt jamais is
the evacuation of value from human life.
By mitigating the impact of a king’s death on the political body,
sovereignty is simultaneously maintained and dehumanized. In this light, Arthur’s legendary immortality
is demystified as a trace of premodern statecraft.
Optimism about Arthur’s return abounds in most Arthurian texts, but
resistance to such political theology can be found in the Middle English
alliterative romances, especially the alliterative Morte Arthure and Sir Gawain
and the Green Knight. Critics
have acknowledged the ambivalence about war and territorial expansion in these
poems, but most have read them solely in contrast to one historiographic
tradition, namely Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia
regum Britannie and its vernacular translations. The influence of the Galfridian tradition upon these poems
must be considered, since it is the basis for their narrative and genealogical structure,
but Geoffrey’s enthusiasm about the translation of sovereignty (translatio imperii) from Troy to Rome to
Britain runs counter to the morbid
dispossession of Arthur’s imperial inheritance that emerges in the alliterative
texts. The images of a burning
Troy and the subjugation of provinces invoked in these poems can be located in
a second historiographic tradition, which originates in Guido delle Colonne’s Historia destructionis Troiae. Surviving in approximately 150
manuscripts and in three English translations, Guido’s account does not include
a glorious prophecy about the authority of the Trojan line. Instead, Guido recalls the origin of
the strife between the Greeks and Trojans and articulates a vision of calamity
for the inheritors of Troy that is markedly inconsistent with Geoffrey’s
fantasy of a New Troy. As a
result, Arthur's Trojan identity in alliterative romance is defined by the
corporeal violence it inflicts against itself and others. Rather than suggest that the Arthurian
body politic will transcend violence against the Arthurian body natural, Arthur’s
physical and political bodies coalesce into one indivisible entity – the
destruction of one entails the destruction of the other. As a site of contention for two
historiographies, Arthur's sovereign body becomes a cipher for the cruel logic
of translatio imperii.
The
English sovereignty invoked by late medieval writers of the Morte and Gawain are essentially patriotic fantasies of the elite, which seek
justification not in popular rule, but through dynastic inheritance that could
be traced back to ancient Troy.[iv] In both the Morte and Gawain, this
retrospective historiography emerges even at the expense of narratological
unity. The British history, which
occupies the beginning and/or ending lines of these alliterative poems and
others such as Winner and Waster,
rehearses a Trojan past that appears to bear little relevance to the present
action of the Arthurian romance.
Even though these poets articulate the traditional genealogical
connection between the destruction of Troy and the Arthurian court through
Brutus’ translation of empire from Rome to Britain, the abrupt transition in
time and genre from ancient history to chivalric romance is difficult to
explain or justify. The images of
a burning Troy, the treacherous Aeneas, and the subjugation of provinces that
are invoked provide a grim historical background for Britain's Roman conquest
and the mischievous beheading game that are the predominant subjects of the
poems.
Using
the Trojan prologue from Gawain as a
representative example, I want to
suggest that these disjunctures between past and present, history and romance
emerge from the confluence of the irreconcilable historiographies of Geoffrey
of Monmouth and Guido delle Colonne.
Despite the sinister mood of the opening lines of Gawain, scholars have continued to read them from an optimistic
perspective, emphasizing the “blysse” over the “blunder” (18).[v] While
the passage includes positive references to the “high kynde” (5) of the British
heritage and the “blysse” (18) that ensues from Brutus’s founding of Britain,
the references to the destruction of Troy (1-2), Aeneas’ “tresoun” (3), and
“blunder” (18) paint a negative picture of Arthurian sovereignty that is not entirely
Galfridian. While Geoffrey’s Historia certainly comprises much of the
historiographic borderlands of the narrative, this territory is share with
Guido’s Historia.
To
understand the specific linguistic influence of Guido on these lines, we should
first grapple with the confusion about who indeed is the “tulk” who betrays
Troy. If we turn to Guido’s Historia,
we find the ultimate traitor to be Aeneas, even though Guido originally
condemns Aeneas and Antenor equally: “While the Trojans were experiencing such
painful sorrow, and were enclosed in the city, Anchises, with his son Aeneas,
and Antenor, with his son Polydamas, entered a plan how they could make their
lives safe so they would not be lost to the Greeks, and if they could do it in
no other way, to betray the city” (218).[vi] It is no surprise then that the Gawain-poet would associate both Aeneas
and Antenor with the treason, but we are left with the question of why Aeneas
is singled out among a group that includes not only Antenor, but also Anchises
and Polydamas. As Guido’s
narrative unfolds, the roles of the other traitors, including Antenor, are
effaced by the centrality of Hecuba’s invective against Aeneas for his
responsibility for Troy’s destruction.
She clearly identifies Aeneas as the “proditor,” articulating particular
disgust for his resolve that allows him to “behold its [Troy’s] ruin . . . as
it goes up in smoke” (234).[vii] Her emphasis on his callous gaze
invites readers to interpret his observation as an act that certifies Troy’s
fall and confirms his culpability.[viii] The Gawain-poet’s
ambiguous placement of Aeneas’ treachery in the “frame” then simultaneously
encourages us to condemn this deed and “see” Troy “brent to brondez and askez” through the eyes of Aeneas. Such a perspective requires that
readers confront the treasonous circumstances of Britain’s foundation and gaze
through the smoking ashes of Troy to view the rest of the romance.
As the passage continues, the Gawain-poet’s reliance upon Guido’s Historia increases.
After the establishment of Aeneas as a traitor, the poet tracks Aeneas’
exile, which according to the logic of translatio
imperii transforms him into a conqueror who “depreced prouinces.” The reference to “prouinces” likely
depends upon Guido’s own explanation for the transfer of empire after Troy’s
fall: “And therefore some other provinces (prouincie) received (receperunt)
from the Trojans an entire settlement” (11).[ix] Guido’s Aeneas then becomes the
original colonizer of the Western Empire, whose Trojans are benignly “received”
by prouincie such as Rome, Sicily,
and Britain. The Gawain-poet ironically deploys and
belies Guido’s representation of the colonized as those good-natured natives
who “received” the colonizers through the use of “depreced,” a word with the
harsher connotations that the MED
lists as “conquer, subjugate, overthrow, drive out, exclude, and oppress.” This negative portrayal of the transfer
of empire transforms the subsequent Trojan strongholds from migratory
settlements to imperial conquests.
Yet, the Gawain-poet engages in a bit of wordplay
at Guido’s expense by using the word “depreced,” since it appears again two
more times later in the romance during the lady’s negotiations with
Gawain. In one instance, she
“depresed hym so þikke” (1770), literally
suggesting that she “pressed him” in her wooing game, but given its use in the
colonial discourse of the “frame,” the Gawain-poet
encourages readers to consider the forceful image of the lady as an imperialist
who conquers Gawain and obtains his body.
On the other hand, we see the more playful connotation of Guido’s
“receperunt” when we encounter the next instance in which Gawain beseeches the
lady to “deprece your prysoun” (1219), which here emerges in an opposite sense,
meaning “release your prisoner.”
Such a use of “deprece” from the French “de(s)presser,” also motivates
readers to consider the positive implications of Aeneas’ imperialism, which
demonstrates the Gawain-poet’s clever
use of Guido and preference for ambiguity. Thorlac Turville-Petre suggests that the use of “depreced”
in the opening is “deliberately ambiguous.”[x] But like many readers of the poem who
look for references to Geoffrey’s Historia,
he claims that the opposite valences of the word, “liberate” and “subjugate”
can be traced back to the Galfridian account, which describes both Brutus’
liberation of the Trojan exiles in Greece (6.20) and his subjugation of Gascony
(8.18).[xi] While the play on “depreced” is
thematically consistent with Geoffrey’s history, the Gawain-poet’s overall pessimism about imperial endeavours,
translation of “provinces” from Guido’s “provincie,” and emphasis on the words
themselves evince a particularly anti-Galfridian perspective. This polysemic linguistic subtlety
suggests that the Gawain-poet
approaches his Roman heritage in the manner of the Morte-poet, who consistently attends to the underbelly of imperial
expansion and moral foundation of Arthurian rule.
This
compilatio of two historiographies reaches
a climax with the reference to “Felix Brutus,” the legendary founder of
Britain. Silverstein notes that
the “felix” label refers specifically to imperial princes and Roman numismatic
formulas for city founders such as Sulla and Commodus, which certainly applies
to the case of Brutus, who established the New Troy.[xii] However, the Gawain-poet was most likely familiar with this epithet through its
traditional association with Aeneas that may have emerged through Tiberius
Claudius Donatus’ interpretation of the Aeneid. In Book 3, Aeneas observes the
miniature Troy (effigiem Troiam)
established by the Trojan refugees at Buthrotum and tells them, “Live on blessed ones (felices), whose fortune is accomplished!
/ As for us, from change to change according to Fate we are called”
(493-4).[xiii] Donatus perceives these lines as an
opportunity to discuss Aeneas’ position as both “felix” and “infelix” in his
exilic wanderings and discernment of his imperial fate.[xiv] After treating Aeneas’ felicity,
Donatus paraphrases Aeneas’ words to the Trojan exiles: “Live on, you who are
separated from my misfortune (infelicitate)
and do not seek Italy with me, which recedes as much as we pursue it in our journey.”[xv] According to Donatus then, Aeneas’
imperial itinerary is one that is defined by the fluctuation between the
felicity and misfortune, the Gawain-poet’s
“blysse and blunder” (18), which accompanies the founding of cities. Donatus’ point is amplified by the fact
that Aeneas’ speech to the Trojan exiles is one that goes on to express the
danger of rebuilding New Troys.
This scene serves as a warning to Aeneas that he cannot simply replicate
the architecture and authority of his Trojan predecessors. For the Gawain-poet, such a reading of the Aeneid is consistent with the treason and conflagration that
provides the basis for the founding of Britain by “Felix Brutus” in the first
stanza. “Felix” then reeks with
ironic overtones that accentuate the misfortune which accompanies imperial
designs.
The
Gawain-poet’s sophisticated
Virgilianism is confirmed by the juxtaposition and wordplay of “felix” and
“with wynne” two lines later. Most
editors read “wynne” as “joy,” an interpretation that is certainly consistent
with the Galfridian enjoyment of imperial expansion, but its proximity to the
ironic “felix” presents other compelling possibilities.[xvi] The Old English “wynn” supports the
“joy” reading, but the similar Old English “gewinn,” which means “strife,
conflict, or labor,” presents another compelling possibility. According to the MED, the Middle English “wynne,” derived from the Old English
“wynn,” is sometimes difficult to distinguish from the Middle English “winn,”
derived from the Old English “gewinn.”
This latter reading is therefore a plausible one, undercutting any sense
of “joy” with a suggestion of the suffering that inheres to the vacillation of
fate of the (in)felix conqueror. Silverstein attributes these
antithetical connotations to the Galfridian tradition, claiming that the “winn”
reading is also “authentic for the Brutus story.”[xvii] However, as Silverstein admits,
Geoffrey’s narrative is primarily concerned with the “wynn” that ensues from
the fertile foundation of Britain.[xviii] I would suggest that the “winn”
connotation is not based in the Galfridian model, but rather in the darker
interpretation of the Aeneid that is
embodied in the Guido-tradition.
In fact, if we were to translate “with wynne” into Latin, we would have
the adverb “feliciter,” a word whose morphology brings us back to the ironic
“felix” and Aeneas’ conflicted speech to the Trojan exiles.[xix] This hyperbolic use of “felix” is
corroborated by the alliterative context of SGGK,
in which “Felix Brutus” sails “fer ouer þe
French flod” (13). The
alliteration of “Felix,” “fer,” “French,” and “flod” would have elicited a
chuckle from the Gawain-poet’s
readers, enjoying the image of a Brutus styled as a Roman conqueror who sails
far across a Frankish sea, when in fact the channel between England and France
was indeed too short a distance for
the fourteenth-century English mired in the Hundred Years War. Such a complex and comedic use
of “felix” and “wynne” reflects the Gawain-poet’s
philological prowess and remarkable ability to undercut traditional recitations
of lineage that seek glory in a Trojan origin.
While the historiographic background
from which Gawain emerges is
irreducibly complex, the elusive critical perspective of this poem and its
alliterative cousins, notably the Morte,
can be explained, at least in part, as the product of two opposing historical
traditions. For the Arthurian
romances, Kantorowicz's theory of sovereignty provides a helpful metaphor for
these two historiographies. Whereas
Geoffrey's providential translation of power relies on the immortality of the
body politic as it migrates from Troy to Rome to Britain, Guido's retrospective
gaze and emphasis on death and destruction, on the other hand, is informed by
the corruptible character of the body natural, which inevitably must die and be
buried. Even in Chaucer's Squire's Tale, the subject of Wan-Chuan's
paper, the brass steed (5.209-15)[xx] becomes for
its onlookers an ominous reminder of Guido's Trojan horse and a warning about
the Trojan "plague of great destruction" that will infect future
empires (11).[xxi] But by the time Edmund Spenser
incorporates Trojan history into his Faerie
Queene, the subject of Shaina's paper, Geoffrey of Monmouth's account holds
greater political sway and offers a prophetic means to justify the Tudor line
and its Arthurian ancestry (3.3.49).[xxii] As Agamben suggests, this imperial
translation necessitates a callous indifference to the destruction of life. The Arthur that appears in alliterative
romance is pulled in two historiographic directions, both quondam and futurus. Both Gawain and the Morte end
with a recitation of Britain's Trojan lineage, but in each instance the
Galfridian future is belied by the destructive past. In the Morte Arthur’s
body is not translated to the Isle of Avalon (4332-41).[xxiii] No ethereal transfer of the body
politic to future generations is implied or allowed – instead the poem ends,
like Gawain, with a hollow evocation
of his Trojan ancestors (4342-6). As
a conduit of antithetical historiographic discourses, these alliterative
romances demonstrate that assertions
of sovereignty, while temporarily glorious, are inextricable from the violence inflicted
upon aggressor and victim.
[i] Ernst Hartwig Kantorowicz, The King’s Two Bodies: A Study in Mediaeval Political Theology (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1957; repr. 1997).
[ii] For a recent and full
treatment, see Patricia Clare Ingham, Sovereign Fantasies: Arthurian Romance and
the Making of Britain (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press,
2001). See also Stephen Knight, Arthurian Literature and Society (London:
Macmillan, 1983); Martin Shichtman and James Carley, eds., Culture and the King: The Social Implications of the Arthurian Legend
(Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994); Elizabeth T. Pochoda, Arthurian Propaganda: Le Morte Darthur as an
Historical Ideal of Life (Chapel Hill, N.C.: University of North Carolina
Press, 1971).
[iii] Giorgio Agamben, Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life
(Stanford: Stanford U. Press, 1998), 91-103 at 101. . Cf.
Kantorowicz, “Dignitas non moritur” in The
King’s Two Bodies, 383-450.
[iv] Throughout
the rest of the essay, the alliterative Morte
Arthure and Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight will be abbreviated as Morte
and Gawain, respectively.
[v] J.R.R.
Tolkien and E.V. Gordon, eds., Sir Gawain
and the Green Knight, rev. Norman Davis (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1967). Future references to Gawain refer to this edition.
[vi] “Troyanis
igitur existentibus tantis doloribus anxiosis et inclusis in urbe, Anchises cum
eius filio Henea, Anthenor etiam cum eius filio Pollidamas consilium inierunt
qualiter uitas eorum possent saluas facere ne perderentur a Grecis, et si aliud
facere non possent, prodere ciuitatem.” Guido de Columnis, Historia Destructionis Troiae, ed. Nathaniel Edward Griffin
(Cambridge, Massachusetts: Mediaeval Academy of America, 1936). Future references to Guido’s Historia are from this edition. See also J.R.R. Tolkien and E.V.
Gordon, eds., Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight, rev. Norman Davis (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1967), 70.
[vii] “eius
ruinam aspicias . . . quibus fumat”; Tolkien and Gordon, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, 70.
[viii] For the
way medieval optical theory can be applied in reading the poem, see Richard E.
Zeitkowitz, Homoeroticism and Chivalry:
Discourses of Male Same-Sex Desire in the 14th Century (New
York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 93-8; Sarah Stanbury, Seeing the Gawain-Poet: Description and the Act of Perception
(Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1991), 96.
[ix] “Et
nonnulle alie propterea prouincie perpetuum ex Troyanis receperunt incolatum”;
Tolkien and Gordon, Sir Gawain and the
Green Knight, 70-1.
[x] Arthur
Lindley, “Pinning Gawain Down: The Misediting of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight,” Journal of English and Germanic Philology 96 (1997): 26-42; Thorlac
Turville-Petre, “The Brutus Prologue to Sir
Gawain and the Green Knight,” in Imagining
a Medieval English Nation, ed. Kathy Lavezzo (Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press, 2004), 344-5.
[xi] See
Friedrich W.D. Brie, ed., Anglo-Norman
Brut: The Brut, or the Chronicles of
England, Part 1, Early English Text Society o.s. 131 (London: Oxford
University Press, 1906).
[xii]
Silverstein, “Sir Gawain, Dear
Brutus, and Britain’s Fortunate Founding,” 198; Thesaurus linguae latinae 6.1.440, lines 54 and following, s.v. “felix”: “principium cognomen”; and
6.1.451, lines 67 and following, s.v. “feliciter”:
“speciatim de rebus ad principem pertinentibus.” Compare the Greek equivalent “§utux≤w”
in F. Preisigke, Wörterbuch der
griechischen Papyrusurkunden 3 (Berlin, 1929), Abschnitt 22, 56 ff; M.-T.
Le Bon, “Felix virtus,” Latomus 1
(1937): 165-72. In ancient Rome,
the epithetic pairings for founders were “fortis” and “felix,” “virtus” and
“felicitas,” but by the time of Charlemagne, they became “patientia
(constantia)” and ‘felicitas,” “prudential” and “felicitas”; see Einhard, Vita karoli 7.4, 6-8.3, 12, and 15.1-3,
ed. H.W. Garrod and R.B. Mowat (Oxford, 1925), 10-12 and 17. For a full numismatic survey of “felix”
and “felicitas,” see E. Spanheim, Dissertationes
de praestantia et usu numismatum antiquorum (London: R. Smith, 1706-17),
725-9. It should also be noted
that “felix” is commonly used in hagiography.
[xiii] “vivite
felices, quibus est fortuna peracta / iam sua; nos alia ex aliis in fata
vocamur.”
[xiv] H. George,
ed., Donati Interpretationes Vergilianae
1 (Leipzig: Teubner, 1905), 330-1; Silverstein, “Sir Gawain, Dear Brutus, and Britain’s Fortunate Founding,”
199-200.
[xv] “vivite qui
estis a mea infelicitate discreti nec mecum quaeritis Italiam, quae tantum
recedit quantum eam nos insistendo persequimur.” Donati
Interpretationes Vergilianae 1, 330-1; see also Servius’ comments on Aeneid 1.98, “animam hanc”: “quasi cum
dolore animam hanc, ac si diceret ‘infelicem’ ‘quae ad laborem nata est”
(1.68). Compare also Boethius, De consolatione philosophiae 4, ed. H.F.
Stewart and E.K. Rand (London, 1918), 334, lines 3-7; Silverstein, “Sir Gawain, Dear Brutus, and Britain’s
Fortunate Founding,” 200.
[xvi] For more
on the optimism of the Galfridian tradition, see Francisque Michel, ed., Gestum regum Britanniae (Cambrian
Archeological Association, 1862), 16 (1.458-9); LaЗamon, Brut, ed. W.R.J. Barron and S.C. Weinberg (Harlow, Essex: Longman,
1995), 1783-99; Judith Weiss, ed., Wace’s
Roman de Brut: A History of the British (Exeter: University of Exeter
Press, 2003), 1058-62; Brie, The Brut,
10-11; Silverstein, “Sir Gawain, Dear
Brutus, and Britain’s Fortunate Founding,” 201.
[xvii] Ibid.
[xviii] Ibid.
[xix] Ibid.
[xx] "Or elles
it was the Grekes hors Synon, / That broghte Troie to destruccion, / As men in
thise olde geestes rede. / 'Myn herte,' quod oon, 'is everemoore in drede; / I
trowe som men of armes been therinne, / That shapen hem this citee for to
wynne. / It were right good that al swich thyng were knowe.'" Geoffrey Chaucer, The Squire's Tale in The
Riverside Chaucer, ed. Larry Benson, 3rd ed. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin,
1987).
[xxi] “Propter quas
tante cladis diffusa lues orbem terrarum infecerit.”
[xxii] "Thenceforth
eternall vnion shall be made / Betweene the nations different afore, / And
sacred Peace shall louingly perswade / The warlike minds to learne her goodly
lore, And ciuile armes to exercise no more: Then shall a royall virgin raine,
which shall / Stretch her white rod ouer the Belgicke shore, / And the great Castle smite so sore with all, /
That it shall make him shake, and shortly learne to fall." Edmund Spenser, Faerie Queene, ed. A.C. Hamilton (London and New York: Longman,
1980), 334.
[xxiii] Mary Hamel,
ed., Morte Arthure: A Critical Edition (New
York and London: Garland, 1984).
All citations from the Morte
refer to this edition.
What a succinct, strong investigation of the two Trojan historiographies and how they are embodied in Arthur(s)! It’s rare to find such a grand mapping of traditions aligned with such careful close reading, across languages, no less. What would I add? You are quite right in arguing that scholarship tends to conclude on ‘blysse’ despite fascination with Gawain’s ‘blunder’ (heh). But it may be worth considering how the poem itself contrives to end with ‘blysse’; it is the poet’s last word in multiple senses. It is *Christian* bliss. It’s a ridiculously huge question but what does the theology of incarnation do to the question of bodies and sovereignty? Not something that falls within the relevant bounds of this paper but perhaps something to ponder when you expand for publication, eh?
ReplyDeleteI appreciate the kind words about the paper, Dr. K. And yes, you are right that we can't read this poem without thinking about Christian bliss, especially given the Gawain-poet's obvious investment in this theology in his other poems (Pearl, Patience, Cleanness). Incarnation does offer a challenge to my thesis, especially since Gawain's body, the nick on his neck, is "healed" by the end of the poem. Yet, I can't help but associate the poem's emphasis on "blunder" and the corruptible body with a contemporary alliterative romance, The Siege of Jerusalem. I argue elsewhere that in this poem's description of Christ's crucifixion, Christ becomes what Agamben might call a "homo sacer" - that is, his death becomes equalized with the other deaths in the poem, those of the Jews and Romans. In this poem, the incarnation (or at least the promise of it) is deferred to place the emphasis on the indiscriminate death and destruction that accompany assertions of sovereignty. I can't help but think that the destruction of Troy serves a similar role in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. In other words, can "bliss" really be achieved in the wake of such "blunder"? In the Christian sense it most certainly can (for this poet), but I don't think that chivalric identity (that which is inextricably linked to aristocratic Trojan heritage) ever emerges unscathed in this poem.
ReplyDelete