Week 6: Medieval Melusine

After reading the text from Chapter 14, “Betrayal” pg. 119-125, I had an epiphany. While Raymondin went against Melusine’s wishes, he was also betrayed by his lover. Not knowing Melusine’s secret drove him insane, “It was as if his reason, blind to other issues, was confined to a desperate will to know, which ended almost transforming him into another being” Pg. 120. This line from the text is reminiscent of other sub-human creatures we have learned about in class. Sirens for example, hold knowledge, and with knowledge comes power. Raymondin’s desire to know all leads him to become someone other than who he is, simply because of his own selfish desires. Even though he went against Melusine’s request, his betrayal felt justified because at least he was fighting to save her from “the devil”, which are really his own internal demons he was trying to save himself from, not to mention, “[…] he fought on the side of God” Pg. 121.

Another interesting thing to note is how it brought Raymondin peace in having the thought of killing the faun within the tapestry, “[…] a lively faun with open legs, and on its forehead two long horns that seemed to mock him” Pg. 119. The way the faun was posed with its legs, almost resembling what Melusine in her true form would look like, although a split tail wasn’t mentioned in her reveal to Raymondin. The betrayal for Raymondin may also be in how he can’t find peace in killing her, unlike the faun. Besides the obvious dishonesty between the two, this was the ultimate betrayal, given his love for Melusine.

Week 6 reading response

Humans have always been attracted to the “dark and unknown” parts of the world and wanting to defeat “it”. For example in this story is Raymodin and his incessant need to override his promise to Melusine and goes to search for her on Saturday. “The memory of his oath and of all his preceding life forgotten, he slid, fascinated, toward the unknown source of his misfortune and loss”(Knight, 124). The enticement of the unknown and the potential for gaining more control which means more power for Raymodin (or humans). Since, Raymodin fights on the behalf of God, this will be a victory for Christianity as well. The justification of control over new domains is forgiven and encouraged in the name of God. The quote also highlights how Raymodin is ignoring all the telltale signs to turn back and go back to his environment. But, his obsession with Melusine’s unknown secret had turned into an obsession that he need to quench by any means discover the truth. This a reflection of human nature and the curiosity of wanting to gain more knowledge despite having a gut feeling that it will cause more harm than good. The greediness for power/ control of unharnessed beings can take a turn of destructiveness to both parties.

Time to Call the Arborist

In the readings from The Romance of the Faery Melusine from when Raymondin breaches the confines of Melusine’s Saturday quarters there are implications of sexual impropriety made by Melusine by the symbolism of the objects and environment around her. Even with her motivations for privacy not relating to an extramarital affair, her conduct is coded within the tale of still being a violation to her marital obligations.

Beginning with Raymondin arming himself with “one of the short swords…passed under his belt”, finding this weapon to be inadequate he also brings “a well tempered spike, a round dagger…a way to deal with whoever had ravished his honour” (119). I believe these items to have a phallic connotation as he is a husband who believes his wife is compromising his standing by limiting access to her. His short sword and dagger being the means in which he gains access to her, implies the tools are righteous in their ability to violate her boundary.

In the description of the environment around Melusine there is a plume of trees “..cypresses appeared like the tines of an enormous comb” (122). The comb is a common symbol associated with the Christian depiction of mermaids and as discussed last class of masturbation. Raymondin finally noticing these trees and wondering how they grew so tall as well as his comparison of the comb, implies perhaps a sexual negligence or impotency towards Melusine that he, encouraged by the words of his brother, must remedy. After he sees her in her hybrid form he notices a “thick fine cypress, immobile except almost at the end of it fine points, climbed toward the starry sky. A natural cupola that seemed to break into the mysterious beauty of this extra-terrestrial place” (125).

Having damaged his tools from gaining access to her rooms, the sight of this particular cypress with its organic state having a phallic resemblance may imply that his vitality has returned as now he has discovered his wife’s transgression against her marital obligations. Her violation of implied masturbation as oppose to infidelity does not compromise the legacy of their union, but it does bring into question her devotion to Christian doctrine and her husband being to her the only source of life and pleasure. It is still a violation to him because she has a power that he thinks is exclusively his domain and right. It’s fair to say Raymondin felt threatened by this ability to reserve this time and power for herself, it threatens not only his emotional stability but the societal emphasis on the power of man (male/husband) over women and the terrain they occupy.

When Raymondin wonders where his trust in Melusine had gone his mind goes to “that they were the same and ever one flesh, each becoming the other to form a single being…and this making themselves one, including their sons, their lands…At one with the earth with its trees and flowers, its meadows and woods, its sweet and fruitful soil…without limit…boundaries or edges. At one with the whole orb that God the Father holds…” (121). Raymondin thinks of the terrestrial power he holds, but later he finds his wife in water, a part of the globe he does not consider when musing about the things they have achieved together. As he believes them to be one, he could believe anything done alone to violate her marital vows and compromise his standing. Without this standard of man’s dominance over others and land it calls the system of society into question and could allow for other ways of thinking that do not hold men as supreme.

The Chivalric Husband: Truth or Myth?

In Chapter 19 of The Romance of the Faery Melusine, André Lebey throws the reader into the conflict by showcasing Raymondin breaking his vow not to see Melsuine on Saturday as he breaks into her private chambers to try and spy on her. More specifically, an important element within the chapter is the way in which Raymondin breaks his vow in a particularly violent manner by breaking down her door. By using violent imagery during Raymondin’s betrayal, the author critiques the notion of the chivalric husband as a constructed idea since Raymondin’s facade as a loyal husband is broken down when he unearths an aggressive side within him, highlighting the idea that men are not as different from what they deem as “other.”

Raymondin exhibits this violent behavior when he “pulled out his flat knife” (122) and “inserted a little more of the thin blade to enlarge the space he had with such difficulty obtained” (123) to get to Melusine. The barrier between the “supernatural” Melusine and the “human” Melusine is broken down with a knife, a violent object. Raymondin’s desire to know every part of Melusine ends up “transforming him into another being” (120) as he discards “his original oath [that] seemed to rise before him” (121). Here, the author reveals his hostile nature that is hidden beneath his identity as a gentleman. Despite him trying to uphold his reputation as a chivalric husband, the conflict of Melsuine’s privacy proves to be more than he can handle and causes him to become a destructive husband. When faced with conflict, these chivalric men will abandon their codes and honor to become a more animalistic version of themselves. Raymondin’s chainmail, the symbol of his chivalric knighthood, makes him now look like a “strange serpent with iron scales” (124) due to the shedding of his trustworthy identity. The author’s comparison of Raymondin to a snake indicates that, while he may view himself as a good husband, he is no better than the snake as he slithers his way into Melusine’s private world. 

With this in mind, the author proposes the idea that expecting men to constantly be in the position of a gentleman or chivalric is not natural. While one may act like a gentleman, there is always an underlying nature of violence that is revealed under pressure. It is easier to pretend to be a gentleman than to adhere to that code when they are put to the test. The gap between gentleman and animal becomes smaller as they both exhibit similar tendencies.

The Power of the Leap

In chapter 22 of “The Romance of the Faery Melusine”, Melusine leaps from a window showing how betrayal destroyed her relationship with Raymondin and she is now forced to choose between two worlds. After begging Raymondin for forgiveness and him refusing she knows she has to make a super tough decision and choose between her two worlds. The text says “Meluine looked out over the green meadows, and added in a voice so sad that everyone renewed their tears: Sweet and beautiful county, I must now leave you as well! I hope however to live until my end in loving you and admiring you, and being loved and admired by all myself …and she wept again at these last words. Farewell, farewell, each and everyone of you…Then tearing herself away, scratched and grazed by the frightful  violence that she did to herself, she threw herself straight out of the window in the form of a winged serpent, about 15 feet long” (144). This specific scene shows that exact moment where love and identity collide. 

In this story, the window represents so much more than just a part of a house. It represents the line between Melusine’s human life with her marriage, family and children and the supernatural world she comes from. When Melusine chooses to jump she crosses that line forever. The “green meadows” show a life of stability that she’s leaving behind while her serpent form shows the side of herself she doesn’t have to hide anymore. The window acts as a symbol of choice and once she goes through it, there’s no going back. 

When Melusine decides to take the leap this brings up the power of  identity.  Melusine has been torn between living a normal life as a wife and hiding her true self from the people she loves. By taking the jump, Melusine accepts her true serpent self even though it means losing the life she currently has. The sadness in her words shows us that this isn’t what she wants but at the same time it’s freeing because she no longer has to live in disguise. This proves to us how acts of betrayal can sometimes be irreversible. Raymondin was unable to forgive Melusine and so she was forced to make a decision. Her choice to jump means that she is choosing herself over anything else and it’s a way to take control back over her life  

Overall, I think the leap can be seen as both tragic and powerful. At this moment Melusine’s two worlds are split apart for good and everything she’s ever known has been torn away. The idea of her disappearing into the air as a serpent really sticks with me because it shows that love will never survive without trust and hiding who you truly are will always come with a cost. 

Sexual Metaphor and Ecocritical Violence in Melusine

In chapter 19, “Betrayal,” of André Lebey’s version of The Romance of the Faery Melusine there are continuous metaphors and euphemisms of sexual innuendos, more  specifically sexual assault. Throughout the chapter the audience gets a third person limited perspective into Raymondin’s thoughts as he enters into Melusine’s private space. Significantly, Raymondin views his relationship with Melusine as the two of them being “the same and ever one flesh, […] At one with the earth, […] its meadows and woods, its sweet and fruitful soil.” (121). Here, their relationship is merging together as “one flesh” and also to nature being “one with the earth.” Their relationship is a physical joining to each other and to the environment that surrounds them. Though this merging may superficially seem beautiful with words such as “sweet” and “fruitful,” the diction is actually a euphemism for something more sinister. The word “sweet” for example is a pretense for the seductive nature of the scene, and “fruitful soil” equates to fertility. The metaphors and euphemisms strewn throughout the chapter can be seen through a feminist ecocritic lens where female bodies and land are seen as commodities to be explored and exploited. 

This notion is apparent through Raymondin’s persistence in trying to get through the door to Melusines (metaphorical and literal) private place. As Raymondin has now discovered where Melusine goes on Saturdays, he is inexorable in leaving well alone. His intrusion is described as follows: “The blade entered [the door] a little, so slowly that he almost began to despair. But he forbade himself to think what he would do next, for he could not, he saw, fully part the adjacent boards. But he might make a crack wide enough to see through! He would soon find out something, no matter how!” (122). The imagery is more explicit in its violent forced entry with the blade opening the entry. The violence does not lie in his brute force but in the way that he chooses to try and enter. Raymondin could very well just knock on the door but instead takes a knife out and jimmies it in and “forbades” himself to think of the wrong he is doing. On that, the blade is a euphemism for penetration, it no longer is an instrument of survival but a tool of destruction. Which would mean that the door and “crack” are symbols of barriers to consent and bodily autonomy as Raymondin does not care for what is right as long as he finds what he seeks “no matter how.” Feminist ecocriticism presents the interconnection of conquering both feminine and environmental nature. This chapter evidently examines this concept through how Raymondin both sees and treats Melusine, something less than human. In this case, both land and women’s bodies are disrespected, pierced, and exposed for knowledge and profit.

The Power Within Feminity – Sirens of the Ages

Over the course of our class and readings, we have discussed the control Sirens have been said to have over mankind, the power that creates sin and abandonment of morale. In the story of Melusine, after Raymondin’s betrayal, he says to her, “Yes, serpent always…you are only a phantom, and so is your fruit…you have dragged me down in your fall and I am lost.” (The Romance of the Faery Melusine, pg. 139) Raymondin blames Melusine for his transgressions and fall from his faith, the kingdom of God, yet he himself is to blame for his own actions, betraying her trust and seeking her out when she had asked him not to. Melusine is blamed for an outcome she did not cause, simply because of her nature being unwillingly discovered.

In many other forms of Siren/Mermaida media, a man’s temptation or fall from grace is placed purely on the shoulders of the woman figurehead. It is within their femininity and lustfulness that men are to be captured and deceived. The time period of this story reflects these views withheld by the church, the siren used as weaponry over manhood’s relation to God.

Melusine reflects the struggle faced by the woman of her time, the past, and even present day. The woman is portrayed as a beast, a negative power given too much liberty over herself, causing destruction and chaos if allowed to live within her own identity. Her deceitfulness caused such anguish and hurt within her marriage, demonstrating the downfall of femininity in control. Yet – it was Raymondin who decided to force ahead with his suspicions and desires. He is the one who broke the trust and sacredness in their marriage. The audience was made to feel sorry for him, empathetic towards the loss of his love.

The story of Melusine is not just a simple tale about the betrayal and mistrust between a man and wife. A husband and his serpent lover. It describes the wickedness possessed by secrecy and false fruitfulness of womanhood. The dangers these “monsters” impose upon good men of faith, being held responsible for mankind’s regrettable decisions. And yet – Melusine was the one forced to forgive Raymondin’s anger, no right placed upon her to fault him in his breach of oath he entrusted to her.  

Maybe Eve bit the Apple, but Adam was the Snake

Lebey is extremely playful in his interpretation of the story of Melusine. As Raymondin is approaching his wife during the culmination of his betrayal, Lebey describes “He slid slowly forward… And in the moonlight that made his coat of mail glisten, he had the appearance of a strange serpent with iron scales.” How ironic, this image of Raymondin, serpent-like, slithering towards his own despair. Here, our author coils around the infamous, biblical origin story of human sin. Maybe Eve bit the apple, but Adam was the snake. Lebey continues to meander this inverted narrative in the next chapter. First with the reversal of the typical mermaid narrative: “Deceived, as women are and always will be, by your handsome body, your honest face, your sweet appearance, I did not suppose you capable of treason…” Contrary to mermaid lore that focuses on the human’s narration, Melusine’s point of view upends the lure of the beauty of the hybrid. To Melusine it is Raymondin who lured her in with his stoic stature, his handsome innocence. Digging deeper, giving a voice to Melusine not only upends the typical mermaid lore, but transposes the legend of Adam and Eve. “If you had not broken your word” Melusine tells Raymondin “I could have remained in this world and been saved from torment and misery in the other.” The notion of women blaming men for eternal damnation is a role reversal of sin. Lebey’s reimagination of the story of Melusine is an upheaval of man’s dominion. The depiction of unruly nature, the serpentine likeness of Raymondin, the sensual luring of Melusine, the interpretation of betrayal. All contribute to dislodge the concept of man’s supremacy. Lebey plays with the contortion of societal narrative. After all, this is a time for social reform. The Parisian lost generation of the post-war 1920s, struggling to find their footing on a war-torn continent. Lebey takes a story used to assert the lordship of men and instead tears down their dominion.

Humanity in Femininity

Melusine’s story reflects so much of life from its introduction: discussions of the fluid nature of opposing concepts, patriarchal structures and their implementation within relationships, and of course, the need to hide deep secrets from those we love in order to protect ourselves. This then spills over into one of the most realistic parts of the story in my opinion: the use of mermaids as a vessel for fate, and how that plays a role in romantic ideology for women.

Emotionally, it’s made incredibly apparent how his betrayal of her boundaries, a concept all too well fated to modern societies and relationships, becomes a point of vulnerability for her. The moment her image of their love seems to unravel, she crumbles: “the fate that was now imposed on her, she felt everything uncertain, herself, her future, as if her heart was breaking, and she fell to the ground as if she were dead” (Lebey, 140). Emphasis on fate, how this was inevitable, begins this narrative of how love stories are considered written as a part of our lives. Life as we know it in the 21st century often means marriage, the nuclear family; it is destined regardless of women’s desires for their future. In Melusine’s, her one explicit desire only lies in being loved, and seen as more than the curse she’s been fated to. She truly represents how destiny plays a role in women’s reality, how escaping the circumstances placed upon them is something they so deeply crave, and that is often found in love in literature. His respect of her boundaries for so long implied reality in these desires finally being fulfilled, in this escape of her unfortunate through the power of a soul-crushing love that’s so often depicted to women, making his betrayal so impactful.

Seeing it from a holistic perspective, it’s apparent how being betrayed by someone she loved shatters her world view beyond love. It resonates deeply with those who’ve experienced that first major love heartbreak, to consume yourself so completely within another human being only to be so earth shatteringly devastated at their disappearance, and faced with the reality that you and this other are not intertwined forever. Mermaids being seen as these powerful and divine creatures that build upon womanhood’s principles, only for Melusina to become so distraught by the loss of a man shows how integrally incorporated love becomes as a part of womanhood. Despite being a figure of supposed vanity, and caught in a moment of “narcissism”, his betrayal wrecks her so deeply, it feels like a death of such a major piece of her. It humanizes her, equating the way so many girls and women react to losing a partner they invest themselves within to her, as well as paints how in a patriarchal society, natural state, hers being a mermaid, ties women to the inevitability of whatever their situation may be.