Myles Wright

Professor Pressman

ECL 305

9 May 2024

A New Kind of Mermaid: Melusine

The Romance of the Faery Melusine, written by Andre Lebey, retells the medieval France legend of the Faery Melusine. The legend follows Raymondin after accidentally killing his uncle during a hunt. Fleeing deep into the forest, Raymondin encounters Melusine, who promises to help him evade his fate by marrying him, making him the greatest and wealthiest lord of his time. However, Raymondin must swear to Melusine that on “each Saturday, from sundown to dawn on the following day, never must (he) try to see (Melusine) in any way whatever” (Lebey, 27). Eventually, Raymondin is driven to break his sacred promise to Melusine, resulting in her leaving him with no promise of return. The legend is originally dated back to 1393, and many variations of the story have been told. Melusine is a major figure in European folklore, and legend of France’s prosperity stems from Melusine. Despite the name of the novel, the tale is not necessarily a romantic one. Particular scenes carry a rather sexual overtone, revealing much about rape, martital or otherwise, and the long ignored topic of female sexuality. The Romance of the Faery Melusine,  divulges the ways in which women were taken advantage of sexually, and conversely, challenges the notion that men are the sole keepers of sexuality, emphasizing the importance of female sexuality. 

Chapter 14, “Betrayal”, reveals how even in marriages built on trust, women were abused and taken advantage of sexually during this time. The particular tone and detailed descriptions in the chapter serves as an allegory for marital rape. Throughout the chapter, Raymondin, ridden with both guilt and an insatiable desire to know what Melusine does on Saturdays, forces his way into her chambers. As Raymondin first makes his way towards Melusine “The little door violently broke down…He climbed quickly in his eagerness to strike” (Lebey, 121). This is not a scene of discovery, it is a scene of violence, first setting the tone as he breaks down the door, Raymondin violating his wife’s privacy and trust. The use of the word “strike” further implicates the use of violence in his planned encounter with Melusine. The path to Melusine’s chamber is not an easy one, he must climb “the narrow winding stair, steeper and steeper, to the very top. There where he had never been before. Neither he, nor anyone else, except her” (Lebey, 121). The steep winding stair, to a place only Melusine has access to, enforces the notion that this is a private place of hers. This is “no man’s land”, which is reinforced in later scenes. Upon finding the final obstacle to Melusines chambers, it is described as an “almost imperceptible line between two of the thick polished planks of which the door was made. Even though they were mortised into one another to make one seen like all the rest, there was a tiny space visible at the point of joining” (Lebey, 122). Oxford English Dictionary defines mortise as “a cavity, hole, or recess into which the end of some other part of a framework or structure is fitted so as to form a joint”. These planks, which Raymondin must break through, serve as a symbol for the female genitalia. Later, his knife as a symbol for the male counterpart. Forcing his way into the planks, “He pulled out his flat knife… held his breath as he started to slide in the blade and push it slowly, leaning on it with all his strength and weight. The blade entered a little, so slowly that he almost began to despair” (Lebey, 122). The next few pages of the novel center around Raymondin breaking through the planks, though not innately sexual, the word choice and imagery contribute to the sexual overtones. “As he inserted a little more of the thin blade to enlarge the space he had with such difficulty obtained, it snapped with a dry, clear, crystal sound” (Lebey, 123). The word choice of “inserted” and “enlarge” emphasizes the sexual tone. The planks finally begin to give way with a sharp, violent sound. Raymondin’s efforts, and the sexual connotations continue, “his efforts against the wood… feeling the sweat on his brow and down the length of his body” (Lebey, 123). Raymondin feels that he has “struggled well”, again adding to the sense that this is a struggle, he is unwelcome, and violating privacy (Lebey, 123). The descriptions further: “The blade entered better, and engaged the length of three angles already. He had raised it, and putting it back he leaned against it with all his might. Then, wedged against it to get more leverage, he felt the wall suddenly give, heavily and slowly behind him” (Lebey, 123). Finally, Raymondin breaks through, the wall giving with heavy, slow reluctance. This, despite what the title of the novel suggests, is not a romantic scene. 

As Raymondin creeps towards Melusine,  “in the moonlight that made his coat of mail glisten, he had the appearance of a strange serpent with iron scales” (Lebey, 124). This hints that he himself is in the wrong, rather than Melusine who, even in concealing her identity, provided for Raymondin. “He slid”, as a serpent, as he violated Melusine’s promise. As he recognizes the wrong he has committed against Melusine, he reflects on the life that has been given to him, “it shone sweetly, polished like a mysterious otherworld fruit. But then the fruit disappeared, as if it had ever been only a dream” (Lebey, 125). The symbol of the fruit stands out. The religious connotation is relevant during this time in medieval France, and the characters of the novel hold Christians beliefs. In this case Raymondin beholds the fruit, but instead of Eve or Melusine, it is him who takes a bite of the apple. His promise to her broken, her trust violated, forcing her to leave him forever. 

Rather than just focusing on the violation Melusine endures, the novel provides a different perspective and challenges common beliefs surrounding female sexuality during this time. When Raymondin first views Melusine in her natural form, she is described as holding “a mirror, its crystal reflecting the moonlight on her face, which despite the life that animated it as she slowly smiled to herself, gave it an almost lifeless quality” (Lebey, 125).  Melusine “smiled to herself”, taking pleasure in viewing herself in her moment alone. The belief that women were not sexual beings stood firm for many centuries. Female sexuality was ignored or simply denied as possible. Sex was solely for the man, women serving as an accessory in the act. It is undeniable that mermaids of Western heritage were often used as a symbol of sexuality, but sexuality from the perspective of the patriarchy, or for men alone. Instead of serving just as a symbol of temptation, it is important to note the anatomical fact that mermaids were rarely pictured with a vagina. Mermaids could be used by men without consequence. Mermaids, without the ability to reproduce, could not produce bastards. This single, yet powerful scene challenges these ideas. Melusine offers an alternative perspective. A perspective that emphasizes the importance of recognizing female sexuality. Instead of just viewing this as the moment Raymondin discovers Melusine in her natural form, this is a female, self pleasure moment. Melusine asks for a single day alone, and when Raymondin cannot respect or understand her needs, his life explodes. His life and success was contingent on a day of pleasure for Melusine. She provided him with wealth and an empire, as long as she was provided her day of pleasure alone. The legend of Melusine was often used as the founding folktale, attributing France’s prosperity and success to Melusine. Ruling houses even claimed to be descendants of the faery Melusine. This is a success that Melusine was responsible for, and based upon her day of pleasure. Without Melusine, a woman, faery, and mermaid combined into one, Raymondin, and France’s, success would not have been possible. 

Stories, legend, and folklore are important conduits for challenging common ideas, offering alternative perspectives of what we previously believed to be true. The Romance of the Faery Melusine, turns out to not be a romantic tale between a man and a woman. Instead, a tale of violence enacted upon a woman, and a story challenging long standing beliefs surrounding female sexuality and pleasure. In recent years, we more often see mermaids as a symbol of feminism, empowerment, and female sexuality. This was not the case during the origins of the legend of Melusine. Though not recognized as such during her time, Melusine stood at the forefront of the feminist movement. Female pleasure is real, and as important as male pleasure. Melusine alone offered a new kind of mermaid. A mermaid, hybrid, and woman, who found pleasure in herself.