Courtly Love In Chaucer Essay, Research Paper
In the “Franklin’s Tale,” Geoffrey Chaucer
satirically paints a picture of a marriage steeped in the tradition of
courtly love. As Dorigen and Arveragus’ relationship reveals, a couple’s
preoccupation with fulfilling the ritualistic practices appropriate to
courtly love renders the possibility of genuine love impossible. Marriage
becomes a pretense to maintain courtly position because love provides the
opportunity to demonstrate virtue. Like true members of the gentility,
they practice the distinct linguistic and behavioral patterns which accompany
the strange doctrine of courtly love. The characters’ true devotion to
the relationship becomes secondary to the appearance of practicing the
virtues of truth, honor, and generosity. After establishing the inverted
hierarchy of values, Chaucer paints a bleak picture of the potential for
love and relationships in a world in which a distinction needs to be made
between secular and private roles. Dorigen differentiates between “hir
housbonde” and “hir love” (250) and Arveragus distinguishes between “his
lady” and “his wyf” (125).
Immediately, Chaucer signals the practice
of chivalric courtship as the knight who is of noted “heigh kinrede” (63)
ceremoniously completes the “many a labor” (60) of a courtly lover. The
description of the duties that must be undertaken by a classic courtly
lover seeking a wife for social fulfillment corruptss the image of courtship
being motivated by the existence of true love. The emphasis on the inconvenience
with which Arveragus, “dide his payne” (57) suggests he performs “many
a greet empryse” (59) out of obligation and convention rather than as a
part of a genuine amorous pursuit. The weakly disguised presence of the
“ye” in each of these words announces Arveragus’ awareness of the eyes
of the courtly audience observing his performance. The concern with the
outward appearance of the relationship extends to Dorigen as she dutifully
accepts his proposal as a means of repaying the “distresse” (65) undergone
by her lover. The brief description of the couple’s courtship covers only
13 lines, suggesting that the relationship’s foundation has little time
to progress beyond the preliminary stages of lusty, physical attraction
before the marriage is instated.
Framing the already bleak portrayal of
this “accord,” (69) a word typically used to refer to business agreements
or compromises, is the contractual terminology of their agreement which
further downplays the emotional foundation of the relationship. Instead,
the negotiated terms that “frendes everich other moot obeye” (171) indicate
that the lovers are settling for amicable companionship. The agreement
itself is ridden with contradictory terms trying to reconcile the tensions
between the inner sphere where passionate love resides and the outer sphere
which operates under the codes of courtly love. The two agree that Arveragus
will be her “Servant in love, and lord in merrage” (121), but the in reality
these two social positions are mutually exclusive, indicating the impossibility
of the success of this relationship. One of the two will have to be the
dominating figure for it to survive, but then this will eliminate the possibility
of love which “wol nat ben constreyned by maistrye” (92). The “lawe of
love” (126) in the medieval period mandates that a husband is the lord
of his wife, and Arveragus grants her sovereignty only within the scope
of their private life because he must uphold the tradition of male domination
in the outside world. Arveragus’ promise to becomes a way to demonstrate
that ” [p]acience is a heigh vertu” (101). Always aware of the connection
between his actions and his rank he states, “Save that the name of soveraynetee,
/ That wolde he have for shame of his degree.” (79-80). If the two truly
were in love, these sorts of issues would not need to be settled or would
even arise because a couple would assume that a wife would be true to her
husband and that he would treat her with respect and honor. Instead, marriage
is being used to further one’s opportunity to perform noble and virtuous
roles, explaining the struggle between a lover’s commitment to his personal
or public life. Chaucer foreshadows the improbable success of this duality
with the Dorigen’s proclamation, “Ne wolde never God bitwixe us tweyne”
(171). Not only does this contain a double negative, suggesting that a
force will indeed disrupt this arrangement, but the phraseology also indicates
that their relationship will be without God who should be a uniting force
in any marriage.
Chaucer takes pains to mention that “[t]he
joye, the ese, and prosperity” (132) of their relationship last only a
“yeer and more” (134). Chivalric love’s preoccupation with appearances
impels behavior that stymies the success of love. In addition to the previously
noted irony of a lover undergoing a painful courtship to win his desired
object, Arveragus undertakes additional burdens under the charade of being
a good lover. Chaucer criticizes the requirements of courtly love by placing
such pursuits directly at odds with their objects. Arveragus self-imposes
a two-year separation from Dorigen is an effort “to seke in armes worshipe
and honour.” (139). Why must a husband leave his wife to prove he is worthy
of her love? His decision to leave his bride after only a year of marriage
suggests the value he places upon success in the public eye overrides the
need to be attentive to his private affairs. In fact, Arveragus pursues
this task with more enthusiasm than he shows in any of his interactions
with this wife. “Perhaps the “lust he sette in swich labour” (140) indicates
Arveragus’ preference to be a warrior lover in the public sphere instead
of a servant in his private sphere. On the battlefield, he can through
virile performance release some of the sexual frustrations which develop
from the constraints in his marriage. Assuming this is true, his departure
represents a revolt against his powerless position in his marriage.
Dorigen strengthens the possibility of
marital bliss existing only as a pretense when she pines away for her husband
not as one would secure in the belief that he will return to her, but as
if she is apprehensive about his desire to voluntarily leave the battlefield.
He sends her “lettres hoom of his welfare,” (166) establishing that her
worries extend beyond mere concern with his health. Although Dorigen’s
reaction to the separation from her husband is marked by her profound sense
of grief, there seems to be a melodramatic insincerity in her response.
She weeps “as doon these noble wyves whan hem lyketh,” (146) suggesting
her mourning is a ploy to win her friends sympathies and their attentions
to “every confort possible in this cas” (154). Perhaps she is behaving
in concert with the belief that true lovers suffer from a physical and
emotional malady, amor hereos. Her belief that “with good hope lete hir
sorwe slyde” (175) further establishes the facade of grief is easily replaced
with a face of good cheer when it befits her interests.
The already weak links in this marriage
culminate in Aurelius’ pursuit of Dorigen. The very fact that Aurelius
undertakes the methods of a courtly lover in an attempt to covet another
man’s wife implies that in this courtly environment the sacred vows of
truth in marriage are commonly corrupted by adultery. Although Dorigen
rejects his advances and pledges to grant him her love only if he performs
a task she deems impossible, it shows the fault of a society operating
under a system where relationships exists only when they fulfill predetermined
conditions. If Dorigen faithfully enters her promise of truth to her husband,
she would not respond to Aurelius as she does- “Than wol I love yow best
of any man / Have heer my trouthe in al that evere I can” (326). The last
few words imply that truth in marriage is all but impossible for its promisors
to uphold. Dorigen’s conflicting words “Ne shal I nevere been untrewe wfy”
(312) reveal the inevitable failure of her pledge of faithfulness.
Once Arveragus discovers Dorigen’s promise
to Aurelius, his humble reaction reflects the state of imbalance in the
marriage. The ridiculous length with which Arveragus goes to maintain his
adherence to the idea that “[t]routhe is the hyest thing that man may kepe”
(807) is incompatible with the behavior of a man deeply in love. Although
their marital vows provide grounds for Dorigen to avoid fulfillment of
her promise, he releases her to commit adultery “with glade chere in freendly
wyse’ (795). His response seem highly inappropriate, perhaps there is a
pun on the word fiendish, considering that he values the pledge of truth
to an outsider who plots to sabotage the preexisting truth in the relationship
with his wife. He values the societal maintenance of truth to such an extreme
degree that he would rather “dye in sorwe and in distresse” (924) than
allow his wife to tarnish her commitment to truth less it be a reflection
upon him. Concurrently, he treats truth hypocritically by forbidding Dorigen
upon the “peyne of deeth” (809) of telling anyone of this affair. There
lies a contradiction in his pledge to kill her if she threatens his honor
while he concurrently allows himself to be cuckolded which is also a peril
to his honor. Explaining this discrepancy could be the possibility that
he dispatches her as a demonstration of his “maistre” (75) over her actions-
the one condition that eliminates the possibility of love. The tears could
be either a melodramatic attempt to feign his concern for her well being
or a realization that he sacrifices a bit of honor in gaining dominance
in the relationship.
Marriage becomes a conduit for men to display
their “grete gentillesse” (851) instead of a union of lovers. After Dorigen’s
careless promise to Aurelius, she becomes a pawn in the high stake display
of chivalric behavior. The concerns with rank emerges as a challenge of
gallantry and honor which forces the knight, squire, and the philosopher
to release each other from their truths. The fact that they are so willing
to part with their pledges demonstrates the value placed upon words is
directly tied to how it reflects upon social standing. The virtue of generosity
becomes so entangled with the self-interests that no one commits acts of
good will without ulterior motives of personal gain, framing this irony
is the Franklin’s question “Which was the moste free, as thnketh yowe?”
(950). If a world places a higher position on truth in external interaction
than it grants to private relationships, true love in the courtly tradition
of behavior targeted to further self interest can never survive. In the
tale’s conclusion, Dorigen and Arveragus place the masks they wear when
facing the outside world and reunite in a farce of mutually contentment.
Perhaps “never eft ne was there angre hem bitwene” (881) although the wording
suggests likewise, but even assuming that there is no discord, there appears
to be no passionate love either.