Nature in a Late French Epic: Topos or Supernumerary?

Keith V. Sinclair
Nature in a Late French Epic: Topos or Supernumerary?
A cursory glance at any bibliography on Nature in the Middle
Ages,1 and on Nature in Medieval French in particular,2 reveals that her
presence has been abundantly evaluated and boldly delineated in
numerous works: the courtly romances from the mid-twelfth to the late
thirteenth centuries,3 lyric and court poets of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries,4 the all-important Roman de la Rose,5 didactic compositions such as the Image du Monde, the Pèlerinage de la Vie
humaine, the Échecs amoureux and the Fontaine de toute science,6 and
lastly, but by no means least, in paroemiological material.7 A composite portrait of Nature is still far from possible, however, since her function, appearances and transfigurations in three important genres:
theatre, epic and hagiography, have, to the best of our knowledge,
never been critically examined. This paper will perhaps throw a little
light on the question of Nature in the epic, but we do not intend, nor
will space allow us, to treat the topic exhaustively. We propose to focus
merely on one epic poem of the fourteenth century, which contains
passages of striking originality for our comprehension of Nature in the
Middle Ages.
The anonymous chanson de geste of Tristan de Nanteuil8 is a continuation of an already well established and widely recognized minor
epic cycle, that of the Nanteuil family.9 Essentially, the continuator is
concerned to portray the manner in which the offspring of the earlier
heroes and heroines conduct their lives once their elders have passed
from the scene. To this effect the poet recounts the adventures of
Tristan, son of Gui and Aiglentine, and of his half-brother, Doon the
Bastard, son of Gui and Honorée. Tristan cohabits with three different
women and has a son by each; they in turn figure in the narrative. And
there are beings of other kinds: a suckling hind,10 an incubus,11 a
Pegasus-like steed, a goblin, a dragon and numerous fairies. It seems
that no creature is felt to be beyond the comprehension and sympathy
of the listener . . . not even Nature.
She is first mentioned when the hero, aged sixteen, finds the
maiden Blanchandine in a forest, abandoned by her Saracen guard.
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Tristan had never before kept company with a girl, maiden or woman,
or, as the poet bluntly puts it: Ains n'ot jeu avec femme, sy l'aloit
desirant (v. 4379). Now that one comes into sight, alone and unattended:
Tristan lui vint devant et sy lui escrïoit:
"Pucelle, vous n'yrés plus avant orendroit."
A deux bras 1'aherdi et puis sy la baisoit;
Nature lui apprent et sy le semonnoit
D'amer la damoiselle; doucement 1'acoloit,
Et elle crye hault et Mahon reclamoit.
(vv. 4455-60)
What at first is blind lust and brute force becomes tempered by Nature
and transformed into tenderness. The spark thus kindled is fanned into
affection and love, as the couple begin an idyll in the wilds, where their
alimentary needs are met continually by an enterprising hind.
Nature's rôle in aiding and abetting the couple is recalled by the
narrator when the idyll dissolves and is replaced by the harsh reality of
human greed and folly: the hind is slain by huntsmen, and Blanchandine
is carried back to civilization by her Saracen relatives. Tristan is left
alone in the woods with the corpse of the hind and the bodies of pagans
it had trampled to death before expiring; he reflects wistfully and
laconically on his change of fortune:
Tristan pleure et souspire, moult se desconforta
Pour 1'amour de la cerve qu'ainsy morte trouva.
Vers les mors Sarrasins le damoiseaulx s'en va.
Or escoutés de quoy ly enffes s'advisa:
Ly amour Blanchandine sy bien 1'endoctrina
Et nature ensement qui a ce le mena
Qu'il a dit que jamés ou bois ne demourra.
(vv. 6322-8)
Other passages in our text reveal that the author chooses at times to
invest Nature with a very different function, one that appears to be
highly original, and that one could liken to the role of a supernumerary
in the action. Wearing this empty mask, Nature becomes an inexplicable
force, attracting humans to each other, causing them to become involved in the lives of complete strangers. The force is benevolent: from
time to time the characters pause to wonder at the empathy they share
or to rejoice that a new acquaintance has been made so auspiciously.
Sinclair / Nature in a Late French Epic 101
Nature's invincible disposition is first apparent to Doon in the
course of his encounter with Tristan. Neither youth knows he has the
same father as the other; each is portrayed as interested in exchanging
stories about his upbringing, yet Tristan's version of his life is so farfetched to Doon's way of thinking that he is at a loss what to make of
the uncouth lad:
Bien perçoit sa maniere qui n'est pas agencie,
Et nature lui trait qu'amytié lui ottrie,
Sy a dit a 1'enffant qui fist chere marrie ...
(vv. 6401-3)
It is as if the mere sight of Tristan has first aroused in Doon an
empathy for him, a feeling which Nature quickly transforms into a
liking. After they have been in each other's company a while, the initial
interest Doon takes in the stranger burgeons into a friendship:
Ainsy se devisoient embeduy ly enffant.
Nature et amistié les va sy destraignant
Que nul des deux ne peut sans 1'autre aller avant.
De bonne compaignie vont serement jurant.
(vv. 6502-5)
The amity takes its natural course, as it were, to the point where they
become companions in arms, exchanging armor, and hence identity,
when the fighting is too demanding for the inept and cowardly
Tristan . . . but Blanchandine will, come what may, never become
Doon's conquest:
Ainsy dïent ly frere que vous oÿ avés.
Mais ne savoient mot qu'ilz feussent sy charnelz;
Nonpourtant s'entr'amerent, se dit 1'auttorités.
Nature leur apprent droiture et charités,
Ilz ayment tant l'un 1'autre que chascun fait ses grefs.
(vv. 7122-6)
The force of Nature that both feel is sustained through many of their
adventures together; one day, coincidence of circumstances and personal encounters enable them to realize suddenly that they both have
the same father:
Sachés que bastart suy, car oncques n'espousa
Le duc Guyon mon pere. Je croy qu'aultre femme a.
A! doulx freres loyaulx, grant amittié cy a.
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Bien pert: nature tret; mon corps esprouvé 1'a,
Car oncques puis qu'a vous mon corps s'acompaigna,
Ne pos durer sans vous. Nature m'assena
D'amer le vostre corps ou tant de bonté a.
(vv. 11986-92)
Nature is also the invisible catalyst, so to speak, in the reunion of Doon
with his mother, Honorée de Rochebrune. He has been exposed in a
forest, at the caprice of Honorée's second husband, Garnier de
Valvenise. By the time Doon is old enough to be frequenting tourneys
in search of a sponsor for his entry into knighthood, Honorée has
become the first lady of Valvenise and the lady of honor at all tournaments held in the town. Doon participates in the jousts, always displaying the mantle in which his mother had wrapped him as a baby. As if
the cloth is not enough to cause Honorée's heart to beat faster and to
bring about recognition between mother and son, our epic poet interposes Nature. The occasion is an evening's festivities at court, when
Honorée's maternal instincts are aroused by the likeness of Doon's
features to those of her first lover, Gui de Nanteuil:
Le bastart de Nanteul en la carolle entra,
Devant toutes les dames une tresche mena,
C'oncques nulz homs vivans du pié sy bien n'alla.
Sa mere le regarde qui en son ceur 1'ama.
Nature luy aprent, amours 1'endoctrina
Qu'elle ayme mieulx 1'enffant que tous ceulx qui sont la;
Et c'estoit pour ytant que Guyon ressembla,
Le premier chevalier que par amours ama.
(vv. 5513-20)
Another opportunity to explore Doon's identity presents itself the next
day as he rides up to accept the tourney prize in front of the covered
stand where the ladies are seated. Honorée ponders the hidden meaning
of the motto on his shield: A se povre trouvé qui n'a fin në argent
(v. 5711). Her heart misses a beat:
Lors regarda Doon et nature 1'aprent
Et le ceur lui disoit par certain pensement
Que c'estoit le scien filz, dont plora tendrement.
(vv. 5718-20)
Nature comes forward yet again to draw humans together in a later
passage involving Tristan and his mother Aiglentine. She had not seen
Sinclair / Nature in a Late French Epic 103
her son since he had been cast adrift, early in the narrative. When the
two confront each other years later, they do not know they are related.
Circumstances now dictate that Tristan is pretending to be a pagan, and
for his services to the Saracen cause, he is promised the hand of a
Christian prisoner (in fact, Aiglentine). She is very distrustful of this
"heathen" suitor, then, mysteriously, her emotions toward him change.
With the help of Nature, she becomes progressively interested in, and
ultimately obsessed by, the "heathen's" voice and conversation:
Dont print a souspirer sa main a son menton,
En regardant son filz tout sans dire nul son.
La lui a fait nature avoir devocïon
D'avoir 1'enffant a grace, que Tristan appellon.
Vers lui c'est retournee pour oÿr sa raison,
Assés oÿ de lui, car la dame de non
Prenoit assés plaisance d'oïr s'entencïon.
C'est amour et nature qui par conjonctïon,
Leur fist plaisance avoir d'oïr s'entencïon,
Car c'est la mere au filz, que de fy le scet on,
Que 1'un ne scet de 1'autre la droite estracïon...
(vv. 11257-67)
The recognition does not take place as expected, because the poet
interrupts the development, in order to narrate another sequence of
events.
There remains one further series of incidents in which Nature
appears as a forceful supernumerary. The same Blanchandine of whom
we have already spoken has to assume the disguise of a Christian knight,
for reasons too complex to detail here. When frequenting a pagan court,
she hugs and embraces a two-year old boy at play in a tent; the child is
in fact her own, but she does not know this identity. A pagan princess
notices that the kiss bestowed on the infant was more than perfunctory, and she demands an explanation. Blanchandine passes the act off
as quite natural, claiming the boy is her niece's son. Even Nature, the
poet declares, approves of such a gesture under these circumstances:
"C'est filz a une dame de la moye contree,
Fille est de ma sereur, c'est verité prouvee,
Sy que, se j'ains 1'enffant d'amoureuse pensee,
C'est bien droit et raison; Nature s'y agree.
Car se je ne 1'amoye, je seroie desguisee."
(vv. 13500-4)
104 Olifant / Vol 6, No. 2 / Winter 1978
From the manner in which the author of Tristan de Nanteuil
depicts Nature we can draw several inferences. She has no profile, no
external features such as befit a human character. In a few places she is
a personification of an abstraction, inspired, it would seem, by a tradition already in French literature: Nature, the mother figure, a rôle that
enabled her to bestow gifts on humans and be concerned with their
mental, physical and moral growth.12 These perspectives on her activities probably account for her presence in the hero's life while he is wild
and uncouth, and for her benign intervention in his first attempts to
woo Blanchandine.
Not content with depicting Nature in a manner consistent with a
traditional topos, the poet proceeds in many passages of his narrative to
modify, adapt, or even abandon the topos whenever it suits his own
literary ends. On these occasions Nature does not materialize and instruct humans verbally, nor does she take on human form. She is not
allegorized, she is not the Vicar of God, creatrix or formatrix.13
Rather, she is an invisible, effective force, with beneficent intent and
resolute vigilance; she is never contrary, never negative in her dealings
with mortals. Her power is most dominant when humans are caught up
mysteriously in extra-sensory situations. They are beings whose life
associations and awareness of family ties have been interrupted or suspended by circumstance. The rupture is healed by Nature, who intervenes the moment a long lost relative moves into their field of potential
cognizance and recognition. The common characteristic of this stranger
is that he or she belongs to a close blood line. Then, Nature is most
effective. The other party's blood courses more quickly, and senses are
heightened; Nature reassures the individual that all is well.
If it were not for this invisible supernumerary, Tristan would have
raped the first woman he held in his arms rather than loved her tenderly; but for the vicarious attraction exercised by Nature, the halfbrothers Doon and Tristan, from dramatically contrasted nurture patterns, would have no reason to join company and to share each other's
life. Doon may never have met his mother Honorée, and never have
been made to realize that he had no right to the Nanteuil family
inheritance.
Sinclair / Nature in a Late French Epic 105
Just how vital Nature is to the cohesion of the character development and evolution in our epic can be grasped once we remove her
from the peripeteia of the narrative altogether. The principal personages would cease to be related, to all appearances; their real blood
affinities would be meaningless; a son may well kill his father in
combat; a brother may well slay his brother; a mother may easily
betray her children; unruly and uncouth adolescents of noble birth
would not learn of their heritage. Character training and development
of personality in the accepted patterns become trammeled once the
force of Nature is absent. The poet's declared intention of continuing
the Nanteuil Cycle would become hollow, since he would be recounting
a series of exploits by nondescript individuals, propelled through life by
personal destiny, itself devoid of family involvement. When examined
in this somewhat negative perspective, Nature's stature and grandeur
waxes strong, yet she remains indefinable in terms of linear depiction.
One wonders if this newly discovered supernumerary rôle bestowed on
Nature by the author of Tristan de Nanteuil is exploited also by other
poets of the French epic, from either the High Gothic period or from
the twilight years of the genre in the fourteenth century. It is too early
to attribute a stroke of creative genius and originality to our jongleur or
trouvère, much as we may feel inclined to do so.
Keith V. Sinclair
University of Connecticut
1
E.g., on pp. 161-70 of G. D. Economou, The Goddess Natura in Medieval
Literature (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1972).
2
Cf. E. C. Knowlton, "Nature in Old French," Modern Philology, 20 (19221923), 309-29.
3
See the numerous quotations in Heinrich Gelzer, Nature: zum Einfluss der
Scholastik auf den altfranzösischen Roman (Halle a. S: Niemeyer, 1917); and in
Claude Luttrell, "The Figure of Nature in Chrétien de Troyes," Nottingham Mediaeval
Studies, 17 (1973), 3-16.
4
Summarily noticed by Knowlton, op. cit., 311-16, 326-8.
5
See Knowlton, op. cit., 318-21; then G. Paré, Les Idées et les lettres au XIIIe
siècle: Le Roman de la Rose (Montréal: Bibliothèque de Philosophie, 1947); and
succinctly in Economou, op. cit., 104-24.
106 Olifant / Vol. 6, No. 2 / Winter 1978
6
On these four texts, see Knowlton, op. cit.
Cf. W. Gottschalk, Die bildhaften Sprichwörter der Romanen; I: Die Natur im
romanischen Sprichwort (Heidelberg: Winter, 1935)
8
Cf. K. V. Sinclair, Tristan de Nanteuil, chanson de geste inédite (Assen: van
Gorcum, 1971). All citations are from this edition.
9
Cf. K. V. Sinclair, "The Cyclic Relationships of Tristan de Nanteuil,"Aumla, 21
(1964), 27-38; and Sinclair, Tristan, 9-15.
10
This motif is fully discussed in K. V. Sinclair, "Guillaume de Palerne, a source
for Tristan de Nanteuil,"Mediaeval Studies, 25 (1963), 362-6.
11
Cf. K. V. Sinclair, "An epic incubus," Modern Language Studies, 6 (1976),
57-60.
12
See above all Gelzer, op. cit., and Knowlton, op. cit.
13
All these rôles are exemplified in the papers and studies of Gelzer, Knowlton,
Paré and Economou, already mentioned in the notes above; one could profitably
consult in addition E. R. Curtius, European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages,
trans. W. R. Trask (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1953), 106-27.
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