Frontseat-driving the Plot From Horseback

It’s been interesting to see that the strain possible in relationships was just as applicable during the Middle Ages as it is today. We’ve got two lovebirds who are positively infatuated with each other (and we all know at least one couple that’s like that). As per the norm, their love quickly enters the deadly “Honeymoon Phase,” where the relationships basically end up alienating everyone around them; however, unlike in reality, once Erec alienates his equivalent of a modern squad, Enide tries to convince him that he’s being dishonorable.

Probably exactly what the other knights felt.

The resulting struggle and the events leading up to it are perfect examples of how both characters drive the plot. Erec is the prime mover during the first part of the story, doing combat with the rude knight over who has the fairest maiden. Enide soon joins him in equal importance, since she is the maiden who Erec is trying to defend. Importantly, he sees Enide praying, and “his strength [increases]” (de Troyes 12), making his success partly dependent upon her.

           Later, after the marriage scene upon which George R. R. Martin apparently patterned all of his lengthy descriptions, Enide becomes the driver of the plot once she tries to convince Erec to return to his knightly duties, which results in the aforementioned conflict.

Thank heaven you've explained sixteen times what a brocade doublet looks like.

Whereas the narrative's focus follows Erec for much of the story, here it switches to Enide, again making her of equal importance. Of course, Erec worsens things by keeping himself separated from Enide, both physically and emotionally: “And yet I realized how little respect you have for me” (de Troyes 38). This returns him to the forefront as a second driver of the conflict alongside Enide. Finally, Enide’s plans to assassinate him and subsequent rejection of those plans yet again designate her as a crucial character.

            Perhaps the most thought-provoking quality of Erec’s and Enide’s dual importance is what it means for gender roles. In the beginning of the story, Erec derives much of his strength from Enide, which empowers her as a character by giving her power over him. During the later murder plot, Enide controls Erec’s life, literally deciding whether he’ll live or die. If that isn’t a form of empowerment, I don’t know what is. Even if Enide’s power alongside Erec’s can be debated, her power over Chrétien de Troyes' narrative cannot. Because she is so crucial to the plot, she is already empowered in a way that cannot be stripped from her.

            Still, that doesn’t mean the romance is an appeal for women’s empowerment. It’s not a feminist text; it’s not even a proto-feminist text (although now I’m approaching a cultural quagmire I’d rather not enter). However, it’s important to remember that Chrétien wrote in a sexist era, so any points scored in the area of female empowerment shouldn’t be dismissed easily.

            Is Chrétien a table-flipping gender revolutionary? No, but he does seem to recognize that women can be just as important as men.