Tag Archives: Melusine

Final Essay: Western World Separation From Nature

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River McCaughey

Professor Jessica Pressman

ECL 305

9 May, 2024

Melusine (Pages 11 &12) and “Natives of Yosemite”

In this essay, I will be exploring the connection between the fictional story Melusine and a silent film called “Natives of Yosemite.” Melusine is a story Written originally in the 14th century by French author Jean d’Arras and adapted by Andre Lebey in the 19th century. The story itself isn’t what I’m interested in;  I will be examining pages 11 and 12, which Lebey uses to describe the setting for the story, a place he romanticizes for its closeness to nature. “Natives of Yosemite” is a 17 minute short film published by the National Park Service, published in the early 20th century. The black and white film describes and depicts the trees, wildlife, and indigenous people in Yosemite National Park. It serves as an advertisement for the park and the wonders seen within. It is relevant to consider that both works were published during the Industrial Revolution. During this time, many people moved to cities as farming required less hands to support large populations. Jobs shifted from small scale agricultural work to large scale factories. The development of capitalism was in full swing, and people moved to dense cities far from nature. Although they do it in different ways, both texts display a similar theme. Andre Lebey employs imagery of nature to display the juxtaposition between Feudal and Industrial Europe and invites readers to consider how Feudal Europe sprouted The Western World’s eventual disconnect from the natural environment. Likewise, the “Natives of Yosemite” short film unintentionally conveys that The Western World has further separated itself from nature by romanticizing and commodifying the concept of The Great Outdoors, through imagery of Yosemite National Park.

Lebey describes the village as people who “lived close to nature in those days, even in towns” (Lebey 11). Here, Lebey is deliberately describing the scene as something different from the way the world he lives in now. This suggests that the way of life in towns during his time in the Industrial Revolution is no longer close to nature. The rise of large-scale industries and urban centers could have led people to become more removed from direct dependence on and proximity to nature. This early in the story, it’s difficult to say whether he is reminiscing in some way on how he wishes it could have stayed, or if Lebey is glad that the world doesn’t have to struggle against the forces of nature as it did in the 14th century. Lebey also refers to the hunter as “legendary”, which suggests that the people of his time praise hunters. During the 14th century, hunters were much more common as a way to get food. By the time Lebey wrote his adaptation of Melusine, the world had already shifted away from the hunter as a way to get food. Agriculture was the main source of food and hunting was transitioning into a sport. Shortly after, Lebey describes the forest as “menacing and dangerous, full of the unknown, concealing the surprising and unnatural” (Lebey 11). By suggesting that the nature surrounding the village is dark and scary, Lebey conveys that the villagers see the natural environment outside the walled society as fearful. With the description of the village as having fields “right up to the walls” (Lebey 11) readers can conclude that there is already some disconnect from the natural world through physical man-made separation. The fear of nature combined with the resources to separate nature from man is what Lebey argues caused society to isolate itself from the natural environment.

On the next page, Lebey begins to elaborate on this juxtaposition between the industrial world that he lives in and that of the 14th century. After discussing the feared creatures of the forest, Lebey points out that “evil reigned only if heroes failed to confront its dangers” (Lebey 12). This is where readers first see his inclination to present nature as a place that needs to be visited. He goes on to say, “Humans do not show their mettle if left to themselves” (Lebey 12). Here, Lebey is explicitly revealing that humans are not as resilient if they do not confront the dangers of nature. Lebey next gives an example of a haw that holds the “Code of Love.” Lebey is suggesting that if humans do not have contact with nature, then they will not only be left without resilience, but they will be unknowing about the secrets of the world. In this part of the chapter, readers have displayed the possibility that there is a purpose for the human connection to nature.

Shortly after in the story, it becomes clear that Lebey is reminiscing on the way that the past may have been before the Industrial Revolution. Through the imagery of nature, Lebey explains how “Man developed without dissociating or abstracting himself from the world” (Lebey 12). This suggests that humans before the Industrial Revolution existed in a state of connection with the natural world. The implication is that the Industrial Revolution caused a disconnect between humans and nature. He also reinforces the point that man is further from nature by juxtaposing the hunting back then as “so different from our own, more justifiable because more difficult and necessary” (Lebey 12). By contrasting hunting in the 14th century to hunting of his time, Lebey suggests there is no need for hunting anymore, and there isn’t any reason to do it with the development of inventions like the seed drill. Lebey continuously uses imagery of nature to romanticize it in a way that calls for readers to see that the way life is in cities away from nature is not in fact better for society.

“Natives of Yosemite” starts by boasting about the Giant Sequoia trees in Yosemite National Park. After showing a young woman marveling at one of the massive trees, the film cuts to a dialogue card that states, “Here flourish the oldest living things – giant Sequoia trees” (NPS 0:58). By displaying the trees in Yosemite as something divine and unique, the film romanticizes the wilderness. Soon after, the film depicts the road that “runs straight through the famous Wawona Tree” (NPS 1:45). Viewers can see a massive tree with a tunnel carved out in the middle so that tourists can drive straight through. Contrary to the literal tree being closer to the people and their car, the commodification of the natural world is what separates man from nature. By advertising the wilderness and commodifying it, humans are separating themselves further from the natural world. The film then shows a tree cookie that depicts the rings for how old the tree is. The tree shown is over 1,000 years old. This obsession with the extremes of nature is what causes people to disconnect from it. About halfway through the short, a dialogue card is seen that says, “Rushing silvery waters, cascading down the mountainsides, border many of the alluring trails” (NPS 9:10). The important word here is “border.” By implying that there is a physical barrier between the tourists on the trail and the wonders of nature, the NPS is displaying a literal disconnect that they engineered by creating a trail. There is nothing natural about guiding tourists through designated trails built by humans.

At the end of the film, the NPS describes how “friendly Yosemite Indians entertain with tribal songs and dances” (NPS 16:00). Viewers can see Native Americans dancing in front of an audience of white tourists. Here, the National Park Service entirely separates the Native Americans from the white people by placing them in the same field as the trees and bears in the beginning of the video. Both the trees and the Native Americans are there to entertain the American tourists. By doing so, not only is nature separated from Western culture, but those who do not live by Western standards. Additionally, the Native Americans are being commodified, which divides them even further from the tourists.  More importantly, this pristine natural world that the National Park Service sells doesn’t exist. By removing indigenous people, creating trails, and altering the landscape, the National Park Service is inventing a “nature” that doesn’t exist in the real world.

Through his imagery of nature, Lebey conveys to readers of the Industrial Revolution that life before humanity was separated from nature was better than it is now. He juxtaposes the lifestyles with the historical context of the lifestyle of his industrial world. The romanticization of nature and the secrets it may hold are how Lebey draws his audience to realize how integration with nature is important for humanity. While Lebey purposefully conveys that The Western World is separating from nature, the National Park Service romanticizes the wilderness, which accentuates this separation. By commodifying the plants, animals, and even the indigenous people in the park, the National Park Service is engineering a faux natural world.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nFWQjZIQPec NPS

FINAL PAPER: LOOKING AT WOMEN THROUGH THE LENS OF MERMAID TALES

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Giselle Lee Hosler

Professor Pressman

ECL305

May 9th, 2024

The Pisces, written by Melissa Broder,  is an unconventional love story that turns the standard tropes in the mermaid story on their heads, displaying how the stereotypes and gender roles presented within the mermaid story are a product of their time. This story is contemporary and relies upon, in order to over turn more traditionally patriarchal, misogynistic views of the mermaid s displayed in earlier texts The unconventionality of The Pisces centers female sexuality, as opposed to stories such as The Little Mermaid, written in the 1840s by Hans Christian Andersen,  and Melusine, written in the19th century by Jean d’Arras , which neglect the female and focus on male desire . The Pisces is special because the woman is not the sexual object, but it also doesn’t objectify the merman. These two characters are allowed to mess up and be messy, and therefore portray more realistic experiences.

To begin, a synopsis of The Pisces is in order; our protagonist, Lucy, is a 38 year old woman who is stuck in a rut- writing a dissertation on Sappho and grappling with a failing relationship as well as her own wants and needs, she is asked to house sit for her sister. It is here that she meets Theo, a merman who lives in the ocean right by the house, and the two start a romance and sort-of relationship with each other. Lucy grapples with herself, what she wants out of men, and what she wants out of Theo. She comes out of the end of the book with more assurance about herself and her path, even though she doesn’t quite get her happily-ever-after. 

In contrast, The Little Mermaid has a much younger and unnamed protagonist. She is a mermaid princess, who yearns for the surface and for her human prince, after she saves him from a storm. This yearning is so great that she willingly drinks a magical potion that gives her legs, in exchange for her beautiful voice. The little mermaid suffers for her love of the prince until it eventually leads to her untimely demise. She, too, does not get a standard happily-ever-after. Granted, this story is a product of its time- being written in the eighteen forties. 

The Pisces was written in the 21st century, as evident by much of the modern references scattered throughout the book. But it was also evident in the way that the characters were portrayed. Lucy is a woman who seemingly defies a lot of what society thinks of women- she is promiscuous, she is messy, not put together, unsure of herself, but she is also defiant in her quest to finding herself. She frequently pushes the boundary of the sort of womanly standards society seems to have, and pushes back against the societal norms for men, as well. This is evident in how her relationship to the merman Theo is portrayed; “I felt great and noble, like a woman coming to claim her man in battle, or perhaps a man who was coming to rescue his woman. I had to be the rescuer, because he was more handicapped than I was.” (192) The stereotype of the merperson-human relationship is flipped here, as she is the one who has more control and power, in a way. She is the one who goes to him, yes but she is the one who can help take him to shore. Theo is more at her whims than she is to him

This is heavily contrasted with The Little Mermaid, too- then again The Little Mermaid has the “canonical” mermaid-human relationship seen in a decent chunk of mermaid stories. To even get close to her prince, the little mermaid gives up a lot of what she has to go to the surface; “ ‘Now, you must give me this beautiful voice. I choose to have the best of all you possess in exchange for my valuable potion’.” (122, Penguin Book) And so the little mermaid gives up her voice, her tail and her place amongst her people in order to ascend to the surface and live amongst the humans and her prince. When she first arrives to the surface and meets the prince again, one of her main feelings is the pain; “Every step she took was, as the witch had warned her it would be, like reading on the points of needles and sharp knives; but she bore it willingly…” (123) Already there is a vast difference between her and Lucy, who doesn’t suffer as much as she does in her relationship with the unknown. 

There’s also something to be said about how Lucy and the little mermaid are sort of foils to one another. The little mermaid, while she is with the prince on land, does not have her voice and cannot properly vocalize any of her feelings to him. While Lucy, who does struggle with her inner wants, has no problem with talking to Theo or trying to reason out some of her own emotions. Granted, the two books were written across a large gap- in between both of their publications, women’s suffrage took place, and some of the waves of feminism also happened. Women at the time of The Little Mermaid, and Melusine,  had less of a voice within their society as they do against women at the time of The Pisces. 

On the subject of women and the female, The Pisces centers more on female sexuality than other mermaid mythos. This could be argued that the time period is relevant, which is correct. In The Pisces, Lucy is almost rewarded and validated for her sexuality, or going through the trials and tribulations in having relations with different men before she settles on Theo. “The way I felt when we kissed or when he went down on me- I wanted to create that feeling and live in that for as long as I could.” (one5one). She is constantly having sex with Theo- there is mutual attraction between them for a good chunk of the novel. Her wants are placed above his, in a way- Theo indulges her in coming into her home to spend time with her, away from the ocean, even though that in itself is a task. They fuck on the beach a lot, too. Other mermaid mythos are not so kind to the woman in the relationship; the Legend of Melusina, written by Jean d’Arras, for example, is a fine display of how female sexuality was not a priority. All she had asked of him was for him to “never desire to see her on a Saturday” (87). And even when she had given him everything, and endured ridicule for their hybrid children, he still could not oblige her. The one day a week could be interpreted as Melusina obliging herself, which she could not even have due to her husband’s mistrust of her.

At the very end of The Pisces, Lucy finds out that Theo had brought down more women with him in the past, and she rejects his offer to go under the depths with him. While she doesn’t have such a happily ever after, she still retains herself and her autonomy, a far cry from Melusine (who flies around in pain and suffering, 88) and the little mermaid (who becomes an air spirit dependent on the behavior of children, one 30). And yes, she is a woman, but she is not dependent on men, nor is her life absolutely ruined by them. Stories like The Pisces, that pull away from the canonical mermaid story, can help teach better lessons to future readers.

Final Essay

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Ashley Rubin 

May 9, 2024

Pressman 

ECL 305 

Reflections of Vanity: From Myth to Modernity

The phenomenon of selfies serves as an example of the continuation of a focus on female beauty and vanity. The article Displays of Vanity on Instagram by Marije Peute and Annemarije Rus explains this cultural obsession with self-image reflection on a broader crisis in understanding the meaning and implications of vanity in the digital age, where platforms like social media have reshaped perceptions of beauty and self-worth. By examining the symbolism of vanity drawn from Christian beliefs, particularly in the portrayal of mermaids in mythology as depicted in the stories Ti Jeanne and Melusine, the continual cultural beliefs of beauty standards can be understood. 

The story Ti Jeanne from the Penguin Book of Mermaids presents ways vanity has been shown through mythical stories. The story originates from the Caribbean islands of Trinidad and Tobago and African descent. The story revolves around Ti Jeanne, who in a moment of solitude indulges in the seemingly harmless act of admiring her reflection in the water. However, her actions attract the attention of Maman Dlo, who scolds Ti Jeanne for her vanity. “‘Vanity, vanity, my child,’ said Maman Dlo, who was now fully seven feet erect on her snake body, swaying from side to side. ‘Looking at yourself in the water’s reflection. But beautiful you are, ssssssso beautiful! Mmh, mmh!” (Penguin, 276). Maman Dlo admires Ti Jeanne’s beauty but does not think she has the right to admire it herself. In many stories, mermaids are depicted as creatures obsessed with their beauty, spending amounts of time gazing at themselves in mirrors. The water acts as the mirror in this story, a common symbol of vanity. Ti Jeanne admiring herself is presented as a negative in this tale, implying that vanity is bad for women.  

The story Melusine descends from French writer Jean d’Arras. The story is believed to take place in either Europe or Scotland. Melusine tells the tale of a mysterious woman named Melusine who marries a mortal man, Raymond. Melusine, however, harbors a secret of being a shape-shifting water spirit with a serpent tail. She makes Raymond promise never to intrude upon her privacy on Saturdays, but eventually, he succumbs to curiosity and spies on her leading to him discovering her true form. As a result, Melusine is forced to leave him and their children. When Raymond spies on Melusine she is pictured in a bathtub holding a mirror. Melusine had been taking her one day alone to appreciate herself and her beauty. Vanity is displayed differently in this story compared to the story of Ti Jeanne. The presentation of vanity is less apparent in Melusine’s story, but it is there. Melusine’s transformation into a serpent-like creature on Saturdays and insistence on privacy during that time can be interpreted as a form of vanity or a desire to maintain a certain image or identity. Her transformation suggests a fear of being seen in her true form, indicating a preoccupation with appearance and maintaining a facade of normalcy. This idea and the presentation of her admiring her appearance explain the vanity apparent in the story. 

Selfies play a large role in society today due to the presence of social media which has created new beauty standards. The article Displays of Vanity on Instagram by Marije Peute and Annemarije Rus explains this cultural obsession with self-image reflection. The article explains how selfies have become extremely popular on social media, but there are negative aspects to sharing these photos. Selfies can often be seen as vain or self-indulgent rather than an appreciation of one’s beauty. The article states “Vanity is defined by the Cambridge Dictionary as ‘the personal characteristic of being too proud of and interested in yourself, esp. in your appearance or achievements.” The definition of vanity implies that it is a negative thing to appreciate oneself and that it could relate to self-obsession and less consideration for others. This can directly be tied to the themes presented in Ti Jeanne and Melusine. 

The negative connotations associated with vanity are prominently highlighted in Displays of Vanity on Instagram and the tales of Ti Jeanne and Melusine. The symbolism of vanity in mermaids traces back to the teachings of the Christian Church, where vanity is portrayed as a sinful trait. Mermaids in stories often wield objects like mirrors to symbolize their vanity which directly links to the sin of pride, one of the seven deadly sins in the Christian Church. These ancient beliefs have had a lasting impact on how vanity is perceived in society today. These negative associations have influenced societal attitudes towards self-love and self-expression. In both the stories of Melusine and Ti Jeanne, the presence of mirrors serves as a representation of vanity, reinforcing the narrative’s themes. In contemporary culture, selfies have emerged as a modern manifestation of vanity, with the camera itself becoming a symbol of self-admiration and narcissism. The enduring symbolism of vanity in mythology, literature, and modern media underscores the complex interaction between cultural norms, religious beliefs, and individual expression. Presentation and historical background are credited for the current beliefs around vanity. While it might not be all people who believe that selfies and self-love are negative, it is a common belief due to the background of the trait. 

The historical background of vanity in mermaids connects it to human beings, specifically women. Vanity is not only something that comes with negative connotations but also comes with literal consequences. Ti Jeanne’s story results in her being turned into a snake because of her self-admiration. By transforming Ti Jeanne into a mermaid/snake, the story draws a parallel between her actions and the archetype of the vain mermaid, suggesting that her preoccupation with her appearance aligns her with mermaids. This compares to modern-day society through hate comments on social media. When human beings display vanity on social media the punishment can be hateful comments on the post or behind an individual’s back. Once again, this consequence derives from the historical context of vanity. Many people post selfies in an attempt to gain validation from others as explained by Marije Peute and Annemarije Rus. While sometimes posting a selfie is met with the validation of positive comments, other times it is met with hate which can hurt an individual’s self-confidence and love even more. The consequences of vanity are also apparent in Melusine’s story. While she was simply trying to take one day of the week to herself to be alone and appreciate her beauty and true self, she was ultimately punished for it. When Raymond breaks his promise and invades her privacy, Melusine is the one who has to leave her life behind. This relates to vanity as it implies that a woman taking time to herself to admire, appreciate, and relish in her beauty is something that needs to be punished. Selfies are simply the modern-day portrayal of vanity and its consequences can be directly related to past myths of female vanity. 

Perceptions of beauty and how it should be displayed have always been taught through a form of media. Beginning with literature and mythical tales, Melusine and Ti Jeanne display that beauty should not be flaunted or appreciated by women themselves. Shifting into the digital age, social media posts dictate how much beauty should be shared with the public. Platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and Snapchat have become modern-day canvases where individuals showcase their idealized versions of beauty to an audience. However, this digital era has brought forth new pressures surrounding beauty standards. Influencers and celebrities often set unrealistic beauty standards, leading to feelings of inadequacy among those who perceive themselves as falling short. The relentless pursuit of perfection can perpetuate harmful beauty ideals, creating a culture of comparison and self-doubt. While social media offers a platform for self-expression and creativity, it also poses challenges in navigating the fine line between empowerment and exploitation in the pursuit of beauty. When those who fit the beauty standards share selfies they are often praised for their confidence and looks. On the other hand, when those who might not fit the ideal beauty standards of today’s society post selfies they are criticized and labeled as vain. The study conducted in Displays of Vanity on Instagram proves these feelings that women are experiencing. “Marije considers herself vain in certain respects, loving beautiful clothing and receiving validation from others, which she considers a human need. However, she denounces a striving for ‘perfection’. She takes only a few selfies,” (Peute et Rus, 17). This quote explains how vanity and selfies relate to one another and beauty standards. The subject of the study believes that she is not completely vain because she only takes “a few selfies”. This implies that those who share more photos of themselves online are extremely vain and seeking validation from others. This can cause harm to the younger generations beginning to use social media. Rather than being a form of self-expression and appreciation, sharing selfies on social media has become something that is seen to be only for validation and a feeling of vanity. 

The portrayal of beauty has navigated diverse mediums from ancient literature to modern-day social media. The narratives of Melusine and Ti Jeanne underscored societal expectations dictating how beauty should be perceived and displayed, emphasizing modesty and reservation while also implying that vanity is unfavorable. However, the emergence of digital platforms has ushered in a new era where users have unprecedented control over their self-image and presentation of beauty. Amidst the opportunities for self-expression, social media has also intensified the pressures of conformity and perfection, creating unrealistic standards that can weaken self-esteem and mental well-being. Vanity is still the common factor in shaming women for their expression of beauty beginning in these mythical tales and continuing to modern-day society. The negative perceptions of women expressing their beauty have been blamed on the beliefs of the Christian Church that appointed vanity as a sin. Ultimately, the evolution of beauty through media underscores the enduring search for acceptance and validation, reminding us of the profound complexities inherent in the human experience.

Works Cited 

Bacchilega, Cristina, and Marie Alohalani Brown. The Penguin Book of Mermaids. Penguin Books, 2019. 

Peute, Marije, and Annemarije Rus. “Displays of Vanity on Instagram: A Reflection on the Making of Instaworthy.” Etnofoor, vol. 33, no. 1, 2021, pp. 11–20. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/27034456. Accessed 7 May 2024.

Essay 2: Close Reading Assignment

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Ana Dilan 

ECL 305

Professor Pressman

13 April 2024 

A Tale of Tails: A Close Reading of Melusine and “Monstrosity”

Andre Lebey’s The Romance of the Faery Melusine reveals the role of a monster within literature and within society, which align with the seven theses of Jeffery Jerome Cohen’s Monster Theory. These seven theses stem from observations of modern Western culture and literature, a long ways away from the medieval origins of Melusine’s story, but still ultimately reflect the etymological role of the ‘monster’ as a “reminder,” an “instruction,” or a “warning.” Melusine’s external monstrosity acts as a mirror to Raymondin’s internal monstrosity, as his discovery of his wife’s true form as a half-woman, half-serpent is also a discovery of his true form as an insecure and doubting man. In this way, both Melusine and Raymondin become monsters, fulfilling their roles as reminders of their deepest desires and their greatest fears. The Romance of the Faery Melusine, in turn, challenges the dynamic between the hero and the monster and how blurred the lines between these roles are. 

The first thesis of monster theory that Cohen presents is that the monster’s body is a cultural body. The monster “incorporates [the] fear, desire, anxiety, and fantasy” of the culture that created it. (Cohen, 4) When we are introduced to Raymondin, the “hero” of the story, he is essentially a murderer awaiting trial, running through the woods riddled with guilt after inadvertently killing his uncle while out on a hunt. As he makes his way through the forest, he comes across an enchanting fountain and it is there where he first encounters Melusine. The form she takes on is that of a woman so beautiful, Raymondin questions if he’s in another world. (Lebey, 24) Not only is Melusine beautiful, but she also comes with the reassurance that she is as “faithful a Christian” as Raymondin is and that, as someone “next to God,” she can bring him great fortune. (Lebey, 25) This spells well for the young Raymondin, as her power to grant him greatness and the commonality of their Christian faith mean that she would make a wonderful wife to have at his side. Here, the monster not only shows friendship and camaraderie with the hero, but the hero expresses romantic desire for the monster. The hero has no need to antagonize the monster, nor does he wish to on the grounds that the monster shares the same Christian values as his. The monster, in turn, bears no ill will towards the hero because she finds him and his intentions pure, deciding to place her trust in him and his word in the same way that he trusts in her promise to clear his name and bring him greatness. For the medieval, predominantly-Christian audience hearing this story, they too would find no need to fear Melusine, despite her otherworldly nature and her uncanny abilities of reading mind and granting riches. Her magical abilities, though grounds to accuse her of sorcery and conspiracy with the Devil for the inquiry of those powers, are immediately nullified by her Christian faith. In fact, her faith and abilities combined would only make her more desirable and sympathetic, as her powers are aligned with God rather than the Devil. Melusine’s identity as a self-proclaimed Christian woman reflects the faith and its tenets that were valued at the time of the story’s telling; in identifying as such, Melusine garners the sympathy and trust of Raymondin and the medieval audience taking in this tale. 

The second thesis of Cohen’s Monster Theory is that “the monster always escapes.” (Cohen, 4) The monster’s “escape,” according to Cohen, is not an act of defeat, but rather an act of recuperation and restoration, as “each reappearance and its analysis [of the monster] is still bound in a double act of construction and restitution.” (Cohen, 5-6) The monster always escapes and leaves something of itself behind, but hidden in their act of absconding is the promise that they will return in another shape and form. The change in the monster’s form reflects the change in time within the culture of its creator, as Cohen posits that monster theory must follow the:

“…strings of cultural moments, connected by a logic that always threatens to shift; invigorated by […] the impossibility of achieving…the desired ‘fall or death, the stopping’ of its gigantic subject, monstrous interpretation is as much process as epiphany, a work that must content itself with fragments (footprints, bones, talismans, teeth, etc.)…” (Cohen, 6) 

In Melusine, after lamenting Raymondin’s broken promise and the cruelty of fate, Melusine transforms into a winged serpent, “about fifteen feet long,” and flies away from her family, her castle, and the riches she granted to her husband, leaving nothing of her but her footprint on the windowsill from where she took off. (Lebey, 144) Before she leaves, Melusine makes Raymondin promise that although she would never take the form of a woman again, she would still watch over their two younger children and make sure that they are raised well. (Lebey, 143) Like in Cohen’s thesis, Melusine leaves the life she built as a human woman and is now forced to live out her days as an immortal winged serpent, never to return to the form that Raymondin fell in love with and never to attain a human soul with which she can die and join God. This departure is not a result of Melusine’s fear at her true form being discovered, but rather Raymondin’s betrayal of her trust in him. Earlier in the story, Melusine asked Raymondin to “‘swear by all the sacraments [he] hold[s] holy as a Christian that on each Saturday, [he]…must never…try to see try to see [her] in any way whatever, nor seek to know where [she is].’” (Lebey, 27) By attaching the Christian virtue of honesty to this promise, as it is one of the Ten Commandments to never lie, Melusine not only shows her knowledge of the Christian church’s catechism but also understands just how serious violating this promise is for her. To break a promise made in the name of God, for a medieval audience, is a perverse sin–one that Raymondin has committed by doubting his wife and breaking the promise that marked their union in the first place. It is the sin of doubt and dishonesty that makes Raymondin the cause of Melusine’s departure. 

Monster Theory’s third thesis is that “the monster is the harbinger of category crisis.” (Cohen, 6) The reason for the monster always escaping, according to Cohen, is because “it refuses easy categorization.” (Cohen, 6) The existence of monsters as a sort of “third-kind,”  creature that is neither human nor animal, acts as a defiance of the perceived laws of nature or any preconceived notion of logic, blurring the lines between opposing binaries. Because they are not easily categorized, monsters inherently question how its cultural creator organizes knowledge and information of the world around them and opens up the discussion of what makes something good or bad, right or wrong, normal or abnormal. The opening of these discussions and the blurring of these lines erases the knowledge upon which the creator’s culture and society is built, inspiring fear of the crumbling norm for its participants and rage at the monster for even daring to exist as a question towards those norms. The reveal of Melusine’s true form as a woman with a serpent’s tail sends Raymondin into a category crisis: 

“He [sic] said nothing, but thought apart to himself: ‘And so she accepts, just like a woman, that which is but should never be! …Ah Siren!…or woman? What does it matter? Women do not know, know nothing of what we call Honour!’” (Lebey, 138) 

Here, Raymondin falls prey to the misogynistic thought of the Church, which posited women as liars, temptresses, and secondary beings in opposition to men. How could his wife not tell him the truth of her true form? Could it be that Melusine’s serpentine tail, an attribute of the creature that tempted Eve into bringing sin into the world, combined with the weak nature of women like her caused her to tell nothing but lies to her own husband? In retaliation, Raymondin becomes more monstrous than heroic, verbally abusing his wife by calling her a “false serpent” and cursing at even his own children, saying that “none of those who have come from [her] cursed womb know how to come to a good end, because of the sign of reprobation with which [she] [sic] marked them by her sins.” (Lebey, 139). He forgets that it was he who promised Melusine that he would never seek her out on Saturday nor to doubt her commitment to him. He allows the eyes of society to overtake his own and to see not his good and faithful wife who brought him and their family prosperity, but a monster who made its home in his and lied by omission of its monstrous nature. 

The fourth and fifth theses of Monster Theory respectively state that the monster “dwells at the gates of difference” (Cohen, 7) and “polices the borders of the possible.” (Cohen, 12) These two theses do not just dwell on the physical attributes of the monster that make it a monster, but also its position in a culture as a foreigner, the Other. More often than not, monsters in literature tend to have otherworldly origins. Whether their origins are from across the sea to the sea itself, from Mars to the next galaxy over, from the other side of the universe to a completely different, alternate universe, the literature that tells their tales make it abundantly clear that we must be wary of what did not come from our backyard. That these foreigners seek nothing but to disrupt the peace and order of our home for their own gain. That it is the foreigners’ presence that upsets the power structures and hierarchies erected for the care and safety of all that is good and familiar. That it is their foreignness that makes them monsters. There is, however, one caveat that makes the monster less monstrous: the fetishization and the exploitation of the Other. Melusine’s pretty and powerful presence in Raymondin’s life brings about nothing but prosperity, as they are able to “[form] relations and friendships all over the East,” (Cohen, 119) form an alliance with “the descendants of [sic] Obeid Allah, the Mahdi, who founded the Fatimid Dynasty,” (Cohen, 120) as well as establish enough trade with other countries to be able to decorate their castle with gold, mosaics, and Islamic writings. (Cohen, 120) It is because of Melusine’s otherworldly (and admittedly, foreign) influence that Raymondin is able to make these connections with foreign lands and help his town and family flourish into prosperity. The descriptions of their displays of wealth act as an advertisement, an invitation to its medieval audience to broaden business and cultural horizons outside of Europe. The foreigner and the unknown are terrifying, yes, until money is involved. The Other is only accepted as far as what it can offer, what it brings to the table. Though capitalism had yet to exist at the time of Melusine’s telling, the grounds for a person’s use, or their capital, was already taking root through what they traded along trade routes. The exchange of vows between Melusine and Raymondin can be seen as a marriage proposal, which in turn can also be seen as a business contract, as many marriages essentially were during that time period: Melusine’s privacy for Raymondin’s prosperous future. As long as each side keeps their promise, Melusine fulfills her role as his beautiful and powerful Christian wife and Raymondin fulfills his role as a knight presiding over a prosperous city. If that is the case, then Raymondin’s betrayal can then be seen as a breach of contract, ultimately severing the ties between the foreign and the familiar, the monster and the man. 

Monster Theory’s sixth thesis states: “Fear of the monster is really a kind of desire.” (Cohen, 16) Although the monster can be seen as revolting, there is an undeniable aspect to them that is also revolutionary. The monster’s fluid state of being between the familiar and unfamiliar attracts just as much as it reviles. Its fluidity and inability to be boxed into one category can be seen as a freedom from societal constraint, allowing the consumer the feeling of liberation through fascination of the monster: 

“This simultaneous repulsion and attraction at the core of the monster’s composition accounts greatly for its continued cultural popularity, for the fact that the monster seldom can be contained in a simple, binary dialectic (thesis, antithesis, …no synthesis). We distrust and loathe the monster at the same time we envy its freedom, perhaps its sublime despair.” (Cohen, 17)  

We see this paradox of attraction and repulsion best through the discovery scene, where Raymondin breaches the tower and room where Melusine spends her Saturdays. Raymondin seeks to know why Melusine asks to spend her Saturdays alone because of the seed of her infidelity planted in his head by his brother. When Raymondin catches a glimpse of Melusine’s true form, he goes through a dizzying train of thought, oscillating between the fear of discovery and death and the desire to take another look:

“The memory of his oath and of all his preceding life forgotten, he slid, fascinated, toward the unknown source of his misfortune and loss…But hardly had he seen than he closed his eyes again, retreating so as not to be seen himself, and in an impossible light, to dream of what he had never seen before, ever. A vision that he carried within him eternally until the end of his days…But before he died, he wanted to see it again.” (Lebey, 124)

Raymondin forgets that the reason he and Melusine are married is because of his promise to never seek her out and try to see her on Saturdays. (Lebey, 27) Melusine’s request for a single day of freedom is immediately held into suspicion by Raymondin because of her nonhuman nature. Monsters do not adhere to human norms, after all. According to him, what would a monster wife know about fidelity and faithfulness to her husband? What kind of spirits is she conspiring with alone without any supervision? It is strange to Raymondin that his wife would desire any amount of time to herself, rather than attending to her children or even to her husband. Even if Raymondin is warned twice about what he must do to keep Melusine as his wife till the end of his days, he ignores these warnings by looking twice at Melusine’s true form: just once to see the monster, then twice to confirm that the monster he is beholding is truly his wife. 

Finally, the seventh thesis of Monster Theory is that “the monster stands at the threshold…of becoming.” (Cohen, 20) The role of a monster is to “ask [sic] how we perceive the world, and how we have misrepresented what we have attempted to place. They ask us to reevaluate our cultural assumptions…our perceptions of difference, our tolerance toward its expression.” (Cohen, 20) Raymondin learns about the dangers of intolerance and mistrust towards the monster the hard way. When Melusine sees that Raymondin sees her in her true form, she does not even see the pure-hearted man she fell in love with at the fountain, “that he who had been Raymondin had ceased to exist,” “glaring at her with a look of hatred.” (Lebey, 138) The discovery scene also becomes a transformation scene not just for Melusine, but for Raymondin as well; he just “becomes” a “monster” of a different kind. His jealousy, mistrust, and insecurity cause him to intrude on his wife in a vulnerable state of nakedness and transition, perverting the image of him as a steadfast knight by turning him into something much more perverse. By becoming a monster, Raymondin becomes a cautionary tale himself. Whether it be for insecure men who would rather break promises at the suspicion of their significant others’ broken promises or as warning for those who fetishize and idealize their partners rather than appreciate them as a whole, the audience will undoubtedly find that the line between hero and villain is just as arbitrary as the line between monster and man. 

Works Cited 

Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome, and Jeffrey Jerome Cohen. “Monster Culture (Seven Theses).” University of Minnesota Press, 1996, pp. 3–25. Reading Culture, http://www.jstor.org.libproxy.sdsu.edu/stable/10.5749/j.ctttsq4d.4. Accessed 13 Apr. 2024. 

Lebey, André. The Romance of the Faery Melusine. Translated by Gareth Knight, Skylight, 2011. 

“The Great Old Hunter” and Evil Nature

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Humanity’s connection to the natural world has always been complicated. On the one hand, people make significant efforts to protect and regenerate natural ecosystems and resources. On the other hand, several of humankind’s advances toward technological progress and solidifying its spot on top of the food chain have resulted in the displacement and extinction of hundreds of species throughout humankind’s comparatively brief rule over Earth. It may seem that a steady population increase and a strong dependence on an industrialized lifestyle are the primary reasons humans have had such a negative influence on the environment. Still, it might be more significant than that. In a chapter of The Romance of the Faery Melusine titled “The Great Old Hunter,” a depiction of man’s ideals implies that humanity’s connection with nature is influenced by a desire to demonstrate supremacy.

The story points out that, in the time of the Great Hunter, Aimery, humans and nature lived close together. The chapter describes nature as a sort of hidden threat, stating, “In hamlets and villages wild animals in their lairs could watch unseen all that went on around human dwellings” (Lebey and Knight 11). The wording in this sentence gives off the impression that humanity was surrounded by nature in an almost malevolent way. This notion of impending violence is further supported by the next sentence, “Foxes and wolves knew just when to raid” (Lebey and Knight 11). In this section of the story, humans feel more like the wildlife, while animals seem to be the hunters. It shows us that humans were fearful of their bestial neighbors. In describing the aftermath of one of these canine raids, the author makes a direct reference to the Devil, writing, “A strange wild smell, something like sulphur, hung in the frozen air, stinging the nostrils, as in a room where a fire, smoking before going out, has left a scorched smell like He of the cloven hoof” (Lebey and Knight 11). Cloven hooves are found in animals like sheep, deer, and goats. The personal pronoun “He” infers that these cloven hooves belong to a human, as any other reference to nature is met with the pronouns “they,” “them,” and “it”. All this suggests that this simile is an easily understood comparison between nature and the Devil. This just further proves that humanity was scared of nature, and it helps justify their rationale for hunting.

The forest itself is described as “…stretched beyond, menacing and dangerous, full of the unknown, concealing the surprising and the supernatural” (Lebey and Knight 11). Describing the forest as “stretched beyond” gives the audience a good idea of how surrounded early humans felt. The word “beyond” suggests that the forest’s reach had no visible end. It’s hard not to imagine a raft in the middle of an endless ocean. Both the hypothetical raft and the aforementioned hamlets and villages are stranded, encircled by a not-so-obvious danger. The audience knows that the forest is dangerous because the first two paragraphs describe the animals who come from the woods to terrorize people – but also because the text uses the words “menacing and dangerous” to personify the woods. Writing that the forest is “full of the unknown” is important, as the word “unknown” will be repeated later in the text to explain what drives Man to be brave. To say that the forest conceals “the supernatural” indicates that not only is nature frightening to humankind, but it is almost incomprehensible – it doesn’t follow humanity’s rules; therefore, it is mystical and fantastical.

The story then shows us that humanity is able to defeat these evils – the story says, “…evil reigned only if heroes failed to confront its dangers” (Lebey and Knight 12). This sentence reveals a lot of information to the audience about humanity’s values. Saying that “evil reigned” strengthens the prior implications of mankind’s stranded identity. To reign over something is to predominantly rule something. The idea of nature (AKA evil) predominantly ruling over the world is an alien concept to modern humans, as the tables seemingly turned millennia ago. The text continues, stating, “It seemed that the one existed to give rise to the other,” (Lebey and Knight 12). The nonspecific nature of this sentence fragment is purposeful. Its obvious implication is that evil exists to make humans stronger, but it also implies that the existence of humans makes the surrounding evil more powerful. This one fragment opens up the possibility of an infinite cycle where humanity and nature progressively become more and more impactful on each other. With melting ice caps and other adverse effects of climate change, it’s safe to say that this relationship between man and the natural world is still in effect. The sentence ends by saying, “for humans do not show their mettle if left to themselves.” (Lebey and Knight 12). A rough translation into simpler terms would be that humans do not show their tenacity if there is no evil to brave against. 

The word “unknown” returns in the sentence, “In those days men identified with things that could lead them further into the unknown;” (Lebey and Knight 12). The last time the word “unknown” was used, it described the “menacing and dangerous” essence of the forest. Using a phrase as vague as “the unknown” in this sentence works great; it describes that humanity has an instinctual fascination with things it does not understand, as well as further exploring humanity’s association with forests and nature in particular. The story continues with, “they sought in all directions the extension of their physical and spiritual power” (Lebey and Knight 12). It seems humans have always been determined to take over everything, as demonstrated by the phrase “in all directions.” The sentence mentions both physical and spiritual power, and this is like saying violence and understanding. The order in the wording is crucial to understanding the implicit attitude humans have towards the unknown – destroy first, understand later. Since nature is akin to evil in this story, it would be fair to think that these early humans would try to defeat nature before they try to observe and reason with it.

All this is not to say that Man never tried to understand nature; in the next paragraph, the narrator says, “Man developed without dissociating or abstracting himself from the world,” (Lebey and Knight 12). When one dissociates or abstracts oneself, one removes oneself from one’s own existence and lets go of any attachments that are associated with one’s sense of identity. This remark demonstrates to the audience that whatever information that humans have accumulated about nature has been done so on a level that is ultimately trivial. If one wants to have a complete understanding of anything, one must put oneself in that thing’s position and make an effort to see the world from the perspective of that thing. In the absence of the dissociation and abstraction processes, no attempt is made to fully understand anything. 

Finally, the narrator discusses hunting, saying, “Hunting, so different from our own… maintained the extension of human power” (Lebey and Knight 12). To get better at killing something, one must learn its behaviors and use them to one’s advantage. This is the “spiritual” power mentioned before. Through hunting, people can demonstrate their spiritual power through the act of tracking and the use of animal calls. The kill itself is the obvious demonstration of the physical power humans crave. This sentence paints hunting as a necessary activity for humans to partake in to maintain balance in the natural world – but it seems like hunting is necessary to keep human beings secure in themselves, which is a lot less valiant than the former.

In conclusion, “The Great Old Hunter” illuminates the intricate dance between humanity and the natural world, revealing a timeless struggle for supremacy. The text suggests that humans understand nature as evil, but humanity’s view of the wild seems to be a lot more positive in the contemporary era. If the ideals presented by the text were widespread, then this could explain why humans still tend to negatively impact the natural world. But it’s important to remember that the relationship between Man and nature is complex and changes over time. Stories from the past like this one teach about how people thought and felt in earlier times, but they also make us consider how humans think and act now when it comes to the environment. In order to try to solve the environmental problems of today, it’s important to understand how complicated our relationship with nature is and work toward a peaceful union that respects both humans and the environment. Understanding where we fit in the environment as a whole is important, should we want to face the difficulties of the future with knowledge and kindness.

Midterm Close Reading: Melusine

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River McCaughey
Professor Pressman
ECL 305
3 March 2024
Melusine: The Great Old Hunter (Pages 11 &12)

The original story of Melusine was composed by French writer Jean d’Arras at the end of the 14th century. This particular adaptation was written by Andre Lebey in the late 19th century, and translated from French to English by Gareth Knight. This means the story has gone through two separate interpretations. Therefore, it must be considered that any beliefs related to the current culture of either Knight or Lebey may show through the text. The other influential values that are projected into this text are of the time when the story was written, during the Feudal times in Western Europe. What we see after reading is that Lebey has strong opinions on the difference between his world in Western Europe, and the society that existed 500 years prior. Andre Lebey wrote his version of Melusine in the late 19th century. This is significant because Western Europe, where Lebey lived, was going through the peak of the Industrial Revolution. During this time, many people moved to cities as farming required fewer hands to support large populations. Jobs shifted from small-scale agricultural work to large-scale factories. The development of capitalism was in full swing, and income levels were starting to spread apart between classes. As people moved to dense cities far from nature, I believe that Lebey sought to explore why this happened, and what it meant for the wellbeing of humanity. In the first two pages of Chapter 1, The Great Old Hunter, of his adaptation of Melusine, Andre Lebey invites readers to consider how Feudal Europe sprouted humans’ eventual disconnect from the natural environment. He employed healthy amounts of nature imagery to display the juxtaposition between Feudal and Industrial Europe. I believe that this juxtaposition was a way for him to highlight that humanity is better off when it’s closer to nature.
Lebey describes the village as people who “lived close to nature in those days, even in towns” (Lebey 11). Lebey seems to be deliberately describing the scene as something different from the way the world he lives in now. Without explicitly saying it, he suggests that life in the industrial world is somehow far from nature. This early in the story, it’s difficult to say whether he is reminiscing in some way on how he wishes it could have stayed, or if Lebey is glad that the world doesn’t have to struggle against the forces of nature as it did in the 14th century. Lebey also refers to the hunter as “legendary”, which suggests that the people of his time praise hunters. During the 14th century, hunters were much more common as a way to get food. By the time Lebey wrote his adaptation of Melusine, the world had already shifted away from the hunter as a way to get food. Agriculture was the main source of food and hunting was transitioning into a sport. Shortly after, Lebey describes the forest as “menacing and dangerous, full of the unknown, concealing the surprising and unnatural” (Lebey 11). By suggesting that the nature surrounding the village is dark and scary, Lebey conveys that the villagers see the natural environment outside the walled society as fearful. With the description of the village as having fields “right up to the walls” (Lebey 11) readers can conclude that there is already some disconnect from the natural world through physical man-made separation. The fear of nature combined with the resources to separate nature from man is what Lebey argues caused society to isolate itself from the natural environment.
On the next page, Lebey begins to elaborate on this juxtaposition between the industrial world that he lives in and that of the 14th century. After discussing the feared creatures of the forest, Lebey points out that “evil reigned only if heroes failed to confront its dangers” (Lebey 12). This is where readers first see his inclination to present nature as a place that needs to be visited. He goes on to say, “Humans do not show their mettle if left to themselves” (Lebey 12). Here, Lebey is explicitly revealing that humans are not as resilient if they do not confront the dangers of nature. Lebey next gives an example of a haw that holds the “Code of Love.” Lebey is suggesting that if humans do not have contact with nature, then they will not only be left without resilience, but they will be unknowing about the secrets of the world. In this part of the chapter, readers are shown the possibility that there is a purpose for the human connection to nature.
Shortly after in the story, it becomes clear that Lebey is reminiscing on the way that the past may have been before the Industrial Revolution. Through the imagery of nature, Lebey explains how “Man developed without dissociating or abstracting himself from the world” (Lebey 12). The author is implying that the Industrial Revolution caused humans to become dissociated from the natural environment. He also reinforces the point that man is further from nature by juxtaposing the hunting back then as “so different from our own, more justifiable because more difficult and necessary” (Lebey 12). By contrasting hunting in the 14th century to hunting of his time, Lebey suggests there is no need for hunting anymore, and there isn’t any reason to do it with the development of inventions like the seed drill. Lebey is continuously uses the imagery of nature to romanticize it in a way that calls for readers to see that the way life is in cities away from nature is not in fact better for society.
The way that Lebey describes the natural world in these first two pages of The Great Old Hunter is heavily influenced by the language used in classic fairy tales. By writing in this way, he creates a sort of desire for the reader to behold the society that they cannot live in. I believe that Lebey also utilized this story to highlight the beginning of “Man’s” separation from the natural world. The image that Lebey paints through his text is of a small town, walled off. Next to it is the natural world where the fearful yet omniscient creatures reside. By emphasizing the early separation of Man and nature, Lebey is pointing at where he believes humanity went wrong.
Through his imagery of nature, Lebey conveys to readers of the Industrial Revolution that life before Man was separated from nature was better than it is now. He juxtaposes the lifestyles without explicitly explaining the way that the world he lives in is. The romanticization of nature and the secrets it may hold are how Lebey draws his audience to realize how nature is not only something to be feared but should be cherished. He hopes people will understand nature as important for humanity, and that the feudal times acted as a liminal space between nature and Man with the construction of walls keeping society from the outside world.

Close Reading Assignment: Melusine

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Thavanh Pais

ECL 305

3/03/2024

The Romance of the Faery Melusine

‘The Faery at the Fountain’

In ‘The Romance of the Faery Melusine,’ the story revolves around a critical encounter between Melusine and Raymond as she visits a hidden fountain. This passage not only progresses the plot, but it also goes into deeper themes and character dynamics, providing insight into the complexity of the supernatural world and its relationship to human affairs.  In Chapter 3, titled ‘The Faery at the Fountain,’ the depiction of Raymond’s reiterated promise to Melusine symbolizes the delicate balance between trust and curiosity, highlighting the theme of secrecy within their relationship. Through Raymond’s oath to refrain from prying into Melusine’s mysterious absences, the text subtly explores the vulnerability inherent in maintaining secrets, particularly in the context of their intermingling human and supernatural realms. This pivotal moment not only underscores the consequences of transgression, but also serves as a place of broader societal anxieties surrounding gender roles and familial expectations.

Towards the end of the chapter, Raymond reaffirms his commitment to Melusine, pledging, “On my life, I swear that never on that evening or that night will I do anything that might be to your detriment, and that I will, in all goodwill and honor, seek to know nothing about your absence.” This declaration, placed at the heart of the story, represents the delicate balance of trust and curiosity in their relationship.

The author’s phrasing in this line is critical for grasping the intricacies of Raymond’s promise. The repetition of terms like “on my life” and “in all goodwill and honor” emphasizes the solemnity and gravity of Raymond’s promise, while also highlighting the intensity of his concern for Melusine’s well-being. In this sense, the author’s phrase not only adds to our comprehension of Raymond’s character, but it also emphasizes the value of trust and integrity in interpersonal interactions. Through a careful examination of these linguistic choices, we can determine the level of Raymond’s devotion to Melusine and the significance of his vow in their relationship.

Furthermore, Raymond’s promise not to inquire into Melusine’s strange absences highlights the idea of secrecy that pervades their encounters. Raymond not only exhibits his trust in Melusine by acknowledging the presence of her secrets and declaring his desire to respect her boundaries, but he also tackles the vulnerability that comes with keeping such secrets. This sensitivity is heightened by the magical factors at play, as Melusine’s supernatural nature adds another degree of intricacy to their connection. The presence of magic in their relationship adds a layer of uncertainty and risk, as Raymond wrestles with the ramifications of Melusine’s supernatural nature and the mysteries it entails. The magical factors in play heighten the stakes of their connection, as Raymond navigates the complexities of loving someone whose identity is veiled in mystery and whose nature is bound by concealment.

Examining the passage’s broader societal implications reveals echoes of contemporary concerns about gender roles and home obligations. Melusine and Raymond’s relationship follows traditional gender norms, with Melusine embodying the archetype of the enigmatic, enticing woman whose secrets must be kept at all costs. This picture reflects firmly held societal expectations about women’s behavior and the preservation of their virtue. Raymond’s promise to comply with Melusine’s request can be read as a symbol of patriarchal notions of care and guardianship, in which women are frequently reduced to the role of passive beneficiaries of masculine compassion. The language used in Raymond’s pledge, with its focus on safety and honor, supports this view by emphasizing the power dynamics at work in their relationship.

Melusine’s reaction to Raymond’s commitment reveals the complexities of her character and the psychological turmoil she experiences as a result of her magical nature. Melusine appreciates Raymond’s vow to safeguard her secrets, but she is also well aware of the dangers of divulging her true identity. Her reluctance to truly trust Raymond stems not just from a fear of betrayal, but also from a profound sense of loneliness and otherness that comes with her exceptional existence. This internal conflict deepens and enriches Melusine’s character, underlining the psychological toll of living a covert and dishonest life. Melusine’s fear may also derive from centuries of societal conditioning, in which women were frequently ostracized or prosecuted for breaking from social norms. Thus, her apprehension about exposing her actual self reflects a larger struggle for acceptance and belonging in a culture that fears and misunderstands the supernatural.

Finally, the consequences of transgression are prominent in this section, serving as a warning about the hazards of surrendering to curiosity and crossing boundaries. Raymond’s promise to Melusine is more than just a gesture of goodwill; it marks a watershed moment in his life, a moral reckoning that forces him to confront the consequences of his actions. Raymond’s desire to unravel Melusine’s mysteries exemplifies a fundamental human impulse: the intrinsic curiosity that drives us to seek out the unknown. Nonetheless, his determination to keep his promise demonstrates the value of integrity and self-control in the face of temptation. Also the consequences of transgression transcend beyond Raymond’s personal relationship with Melusine; they resonate throughout the story, affecting the course of events that follow. Raymond’s decision to keep his pledge sets off a series of events that will eventually decide the fate of their relationship and the lives of others around them. In this way, the repercussions of transgression serve as a potent reminder of the interconnectivity of our acts and the impact they can have on ourselves and others.

In the intricate weave of “The Romance of the Faery Melusine,” Chapter 3, titled “The Faery at the Fountain,” is a profound investigation of trust, curiosity, and concealment in the magical realm. Through a detailed investigation of Raymond’s promise to Melusine, we uncover levels of complexity that go beyond the storyline, diving into deeper cultural fears about gender roles and familial expectations. As we explore the complexities of Raymond and Melusine’s relationship, we are reminded of language and narrative’s enormous ability to explain the human experience. The delicate interplay between trust and curiosity highlights the complexities of human dynamics, while the issue of concealment deepens our understanding of vulnerability and the consequences of transgression. Beyond the story, this attentive reading challenges us to consider the lasting relevance of issues like trust, secrecy, and vulnerability in our own lives. Through the prism of Raymond and Melusine’s journey, we are urged to evaluate the influence of our actions on ourselves and others, as well as the value of integrity and self-control when faced with temptation.

Close-Reading Midterm: Melusine and the Objectification of the Female Body.

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Ranya Tobin

ECL 305

03/03/2024

Melusine and the Objectification of the Female Body.

In a time where the precedent depictions of mermaids were arbiters of folly and sin, that harbor ill-will and prey by means of manipulation and sexual depravity, The Romance of the Faery Melusine worked to turn the reputation of the mythical mermaid into an admirable, good-natured being—an empathetic character which humans could swoon over. Though Melusine is made to be a powerful, wise, and endlessly compassionate character, there is one aspect of her that the text takes care to highlight; Melusine’s false human body is made a main focus of the narrative. Every scene that features her vast displays of intuitive insight and selflessness is overshadowed by the descriptions of her form—a device used to point the reader in the direction of Raymondin’s focus. He is predominantly fixated on her body, more so than any other one of her more impressive traits. Once Melusine’s true form, her serpent body, is revealed to Raymondin, he rejects her not only coldly, but viciously. The scene in which Raymondin discovers Melusine’s true nature, while noting the text’s fixation on Melusine’s beautiful appearance and Raymondin’s immediate admonishment of her after her body is no longer pleasing to him, brings to light the hypersexualization of the female body in both intimate relationships and our greater society, promoting the societal norm of prioritizing physical beauty while diminishing inner qualities, ultimately misrepresenting women and holding their agency hostage. 

Melusine’s attractive appearance is what initially drew Raymondin in upon their first meeting, followed by her sweetness and care, she became the perfect picture of a wife; but this surface-level image did not work to glorify the woman inside. The story repeatedly objectifies Melusine’s false human body, filling the text with in depth descriptions of her chest, hair, and face. In the passage where Raymondin breaks into her abode and betrays her trust, the story takes care to describe the image he sees from the top-down, featuring “her bent back magnificent in profile, her breasts raised, as she combed her long golden hair…” (125). In this scene, her husband assesses the aspects of her he lusts after, a perverted act shrouded by the shadow of the room. Her body is commodified in a space that was meant to be sacred, where she should feel safe to release the binds the human world demands be placed on her body. Raymondin objectifies his wife to the point he feels warranted in his uninvited leering, which exemplifies the mindset that causes him to ultimately turn on her once her form does not meet his desires. Melusine is at home in her abode, able to appreciate her natural body in privacy, and “hold[ing] a mirror…smile[s] to herself.” (125). Melusine examining herself in the mirror and expressing pride in her natural body is a crucial moment of her self-actualization—emphasizing the importance of this time alone. This is her time to reclaim her agency lost within marriage. Under the constant pressure of living in a world that determines her worth based on a certain standard of outer appearance, Melusine’s expression of love and pride in her natural self is a revolutionary moment. Raymondin catches a glimpse of this natural form, her “tail of green scales stretched under the water…like that of a fish.” (125), and recoils, “He drew back…his face fallen into the fine sand, which penetrated his nostrils, his open mouth, and grated between his teeth…” (125). He is so repulsed by this image, his senses are overwhelmed with the abode that houses it. He willingly buries his head in the sand to shrink away from this reality, but feels as though the fine gravel of the sanctum he has sullied is attacking his senses—exemplifying how the offense he feels at Melusine’s “betrayal” of hiding her true form from him was, in actuality, his own immaturity. He himself is imposing and adhering to a beauty standard set for her, just as he himself is shoving his face into the sand, so when the body he had been objectifying throughout their marriage does not please him, he experiences it as a personal transgression. This scene depicts how regarding a woman as a purely sexual being not only overshadows the human within, but gives her worth an expiration date; one that Melusine had prematurely reached in her husband’s eyes. In the instant Raymondin lost attraction for Melusine, after seeing her for the complex creature she is, “he who had been Raymondin ceased to exist…glaring at her with a look of hatred” (138). She had done all that she could to hide the most foundational parts of herself from him in order to give him the life he desired, sacrificed all but one day of the week for him, yet once her image was unattractive, he turned on her—watching her like she was a detestable stranger and outing her most vulnerable secret. His instant loathing of her the moment her body was estranged from him exemplifies the harsh reality that once a woman is made to exist under a sexualized lens, the human inside of her is lost, no matter how hard she strives to be greater than just the body she was born into. 

The Romance of the Faery Melusine offers a powerful criticism of the objectification of women and the consequences of prioritizing physical beauty over inner qualities. Melusine’s initial allure, her beautiful outward appearance, sets the stage for her eventual objectification and betrayal by Raymondin. The text takes care to highlight her physical attributes in depth in order to express how Raymondin reduces her to a mere object of desire. Raymondin’s eventual invasion of Melusine’s private day, betraying their agreement, further exemplifies this objectification, as he feels no shame for his breaking of their contract and momentarily revels in voyeuristically assessing her. When Melusine’s true body is no longer pleasing to Raymondin, his immediate expression of loathing mirrors the harsh reality of objectification women are made to endure; once their physical beauty wanes, they are discarded and dehumanized. Melusine’s story has us recognize the societal attitudes that enable such objectification, and asks readers to reevaluate the value placed on women beyond their physical appearance.

Citation:

Lebey, André. The Romance of the Faery Melusine. Trans. by Gareth Knight, Skylight, 2011.

Week 5 – Legend of Melusina

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What piqued my interest at a first glance was the description of Melusina’s ability to travel between all planes of existence that I can think of. She can slither and exist in the horizontal plane, she can swim, she can exist on the ground, and she can fly. In my eyes, this gives her some form of omnipotence that seems significant to the story.

As I continued to read the version of the story, I realized that maybe she does have some sort of all-powerfulness. With the line, “and though people may not perceive me in the air, yet they will see me by the Fountain of Thirst” (Keightley 85) it is suggested that Melusina will always have some presence and influence over the castle.

In many of these stories, the knowledge or power possessed by female characters seems somewhat contrary to the culture at the time and place of the story. Why is it that the mermaids are powerful characters when the stories are being written and re-written in times of intense female degradation? I wonder if maybe the power that is alluded to is the power of female sexuality. This power that women have is displayed appears similar to what was depicted in Macbeth by Lady Macbeth. I’m not sure if that is a message of this particular story, but I imagine that many of the texts interpreted by the Catholic church were manipulated to paint women in a way that warns men of there sexuality.

On the other hand, I’m excited to open this up in class because I sense there are many things that went entirely over my head. The dialect from the time is somewhat confusing to me. The change over time of these stories is interesting and I would like to see a side-by-side of the progression of a story over the years. It would be cool to see the different biases that a particular interpreter might have compared to others depending on the time frame and cultural norms at the time.

Week 5: Melusina, the Ghost Mermaid

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One thing I absolutely love about this course is the fact that we are learning so much about other cultures’ core values and beliefs through these stories. This week, we took a look at France through the story Legend of Melusina. Count Raymond is married to a beautiful woman named Melusina in the story. She promises their love will be long and plentiful as long as he never tries to see her on Saturdays. Greed (a recurring sentiment we should all be familiar with by now) takes over Raymond’s heart, and he makes a point of seeing her on a Saturday – but he is shocked to see that she has transformed into a snake. After this, she curses him and his lineage and turns into a spectral entity that – when seen – is the precursor for the current crown’s death. This feels like a campfire story, and that’s awesome. It’s got clear morals like don’t give in to greed and respect your partner’s boundaries – the combination of the two makes this piece genuinely progressive and timeless.

What’s more is the fact that, even though she put a hex on Raymond and his bloodline, she isn’t necessarily portrayed as a malignant entity. She’s simply the victim of a broken promise. This isn’t a cautionary tale of vicious monsters or women who are up to no good. This isn’t a story about a righteous man who can do no wrong. Melusina is the victim – and the man, Raymond, is a fool. This is a story about appreciating what you are given, especially if you didn’t ‘earn’ or create it. I am excited to hear other students’ interpretations of the piece, its message, and its literary value compared to some of the other stories we’ve covered. It’s cool to see a story that wants its audience to treat each other respectfully.

Also, I wasn’t sure where to fit this in, but Melusina is doomed to spend eternity in pain and suffering as a ghost – which hammers in the idea that she isn’t the ‘monster’ here. I am a little worried about the detail of Raymond and Melusina’s children being born with deformities – it almost makes me feel like the intended moral of the story is something more along the lines of “don’t be so blinded by desire that you don’t recognize the monster in your home.” However, as we saw with the Oxford English Dictionary definitions of day one, words can stay the same and change meanings. No matter an author’s intent, it is what you take away from it that really makes a difference in anything.