Monday, April 13, 2015

Perseus, Is That You? You Look . . . Different



            What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a tale from yesteryear re-plated, re-seasoned, and served up with steaming hot newness.
            In all seriousness, though, “Emaré” strongly reminds the reader of stories he or she may have heard in his or her childhood. Perhaps the Perseus myth rings a bell? Here, a woman is cast to sea for disobeying her lord, only to be cast away with her son a second time due to the deceit of another woman. Those two qualities, with a few details rearranged, almost perfectly align with the beginning of Perseus’ story. Moreover, Perseus’ stepfather is named “Arcrisius,” while the grandfather of Segramore, Emaré’s son, is “Artyus.” The writer definitely knew what he or she was doing there.
            The thing that sets this story apart, though, is its inherent Christian quality, and not just because its primary characters are Christians.
            Although many of the characters in the story are Christian, their actions are not. Artyus tries to wed and bed his daughter, with whom he falls passionately in love after his wife dies, and the Pope permits it. That’s the part that surprised me the most, and I’ll come back to that later. On top of their deeds, the King of Wales marries Emaré and disobeys his mother, who in turn attempts to have Emaré and Segramore killed. (We can debate whether the Welsh are Christians in this story, but the fact that the king assists France with defending against the Saracens hints at a shared faith, which would be Christianity. It also hints at a totally Moor-dominated Spain, which sets this story soundly in the 700s to 900s A.D., when Wales was Christian.) It’s clear many of the characters start off pretty lousy.

The benefits of also getting a B.A. in History...


            They are saved, first, by their desire to repent and, second, by their reconciliation to one another without external persuasion. When the King of Wales decides to repent and go to Rome to do penance, it’s crucial that he never actually sees the Pope. Instead, he lodges with a man named Jordan, where his long-lost wife and son, Emaré and Segramore, are staying. Around the same time, Artyus comes to do penance for (he believes) killing Emaré by exiling her the first time, but he also never sees the Pope. He, too, ends up lodging with Jordan, Wales, Emaré, and Segramore, with all but Emaré unaware of their relationships.


 
This is what happens when you approve of incest.

            Salvation comes when they discover each other and Artyus and Wales apologize for how Emaré was wronged because of them. Importantly, they don’t need the Pope to repent, showing that they don’t need a legalistic doctrine to seek salvation, which is a crucial concept in Christianity: “If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved” (Romans 10.9). This is how Perseus’ myth becomes reframed and more Christian. “Religion” and “being good” don’t save the characters, but rather a desire to repent brings redemption. Interestingly, the host’s name is also Jordan, reminiscent of the River Jordan that the Israelites crossed to reach the Promised Land. Like it, he is a facilitator to happiness, peace, and redemption.
            In the end, there is no killing or vengeance, as in Perseus’ myth. The characters’ love for one another is restored, and they continue in perfect happiness. It’s like the bliss of heaven has come to them, similar to the arrival of the Holy Spirit in Christian tradition.

"Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth..."


***

Additional Works Cited
The New King James Bible. Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1982. Print.

Emaré and The Man of Law's Tale

The story of Emaré and her perilous journeys across the sea caught me incredibly off guard this week and in the best possible way! Even though I never saw it coming, this piece turned out to be my absolute favorite read of the semester thus far and I couldn’t be more thrilled about it!

The main reason for my excitement is due to the fact that my previously unresolved feelings towards the “Castaway Queen romances” (Osborn 128), such as Chaucer’s The Man of Law’s Tale, have become clarified and somewhat elevated with my reading of this version of the story. Before Emaré, I had only encountered this type of tale once, in The Man of Law’s Tale, and even though I generally enjoyed reading the story of Custance, I found myself puzzled when arriving at its conclusion. The highly unrealistic elements of the plot (such as Custance surviving alone in a ship that safely makes it all the way from Northumbria to Rome, for instance) threw my head for a loop and I had a great deal of difficulty in resolving my feelings about them. Was I supposed to believe that something like this actually happened? No, as it is clearly impossible. But then how much of my disbelief should I suspend in order to fully appreciate the story? How much of this tale – if any – did Chaucer’s original audience relate back to real life situations?

The Man of Law's Tale by Anne Anderson

Questions like this prevented me from fully connecting with the story and they continued to rattle around in my head for a long time after I tucked The Man of Law’s Tale away. However very much to my surprise, while reading Emaré this week absolutely none of them resurfaced! Considering the stark similarities between the two tales, I was shocked to see the vast difference in experience that I had while reading. Instead of focusing on the individual events and elements of the plot within Emaré, I realized that, since I already had a general idea of how the story would play out, it was much easier to consider the work as a whole. As such I didn’t stop to ask myself what was going on or if I should believe every little detail. Instead I just went with it, sat back and enjoyed the elements of the tale that I hadn’t found in Chaucer’s version of the story, such as the bejeweled dress.


Having Chaucer’s work sitting in the back of my mind while reading Emaré was a huge advantage and by understanding the type of story that I was confronting (as opposed to when I first read The Man of Law’s Tale and had never experienced that type of story before) I was able to drastically increase my enjoyment of the work.  



Source:
Osborn, Marijane. Nine Medieval Romances of Magic. Peterborough, Ont.: Broadview, 2010. Print.