SPECIFIC COMMENTARY ON THE PROLOGUE

The lines upon which the most formative strands of interpretation of Chrétien’s prologue have been based have been sketched out, with care being taken to point out both their strengths and deficiencies.  Generally speaking, the views of those who highlight the value of understanding the text of Le Conte du Graal at a literal level, who connect the message of the prologue with the sen of the narrative, and who remark the double nature (romantico-religious) inherent in Chrétien’s tale, have been endorsed.   Those who neglect to look beyond the literal level of the text, who attempt to disconnect the prologue from the remainder of the narrative, and who endeavor to artificially remove Chrétien from the sphere of religious influence by bringing him closer to secular sources or attributing the sectarian aspects of his work to the influence of patrons, have been criticized.  Additionally, brief commentary has been made upon the dynamics of Hugh of Saint Victor’s system of allegorical interpretation, and reasons have been given for insisting that it is the tool best suited for taking the requisite next step beyond the literal level of the text: identifying the presence of allegory in Le Conte du Graal and providing an interpretation for it.

There are other ways in which the paradigm from which many critics approach Perceval differs from that being developed here, for most neglect to entertain the idea, whether purposefully or not, that the thought of Chrétien has evolved over the course of writing his romances.  In their view, all of his compositions are equivalent when considered from the point of view of his development as an author (i.e., once a writer of a certain type of romance, always a writer of that type of romance) when, in fact, this is only an unfounded assumption on their own part.  In other words, if Chrétien himself had indicated a different attitude toward Le Conte du Graal or even subtly remarked his intention to include material of a different nature within it, critics might be more inclined to interpret this particular composition differently from his other poems.  The single exception, as noted above, appears to be Frappier, who has remarked differences in the text of Le Conte du Graal and is willing to concede that the form and content of Chrétien’s story has evolved to some degree:

Chrétien n’était pas tenu à ne jamais modifier son art.  Sa conception du roman a pu s’élargir, viser à des agencements de plus grande envergure.  La dualité de l’action n’était pas une nouveauté chez lui : déjà l’intrigue de la Charrette engageait Gauvain dans une aventure parallèle à celle du héros principal.  Pourquoi ce procédé n’aurait-il pas gagné en ampleur dans le Conte du graal, où du reste Gauvain est sommé d’entreprendre la quête de la lance qui saigne, tandis que Perceval, de son côté, cherche à retourner au château du Roi Pêcheur ?[1]

One may or may not agree with Frappier, but the difficulty in justifying the paradigm being explained here, which views Perceval as the most personal and developed expression of Chrétien’s views on, and evaluation of, chivalry and courtly life, seems to remain: these intentions are never actually expressed by the author himself.  Or are they?  It should be the responsibility of the critic to consider and investigate the possibility that a gifted Twelfth Century writer in process of creating his masterpiece would include allegory in it, an assumption explicitly ruled out from the start by Tony Hunt and which Frappier, for whatever reason, never entertains.  And if one assumes for a moment that this is what Chrétien may have done, should he then be expected to counter his own purpose in using allegory, which necessarily contains unstated signification, by openly informing the reader of its presence and then interpreting it for him or her?  Such a scenario, if Chrétien did employ allegory in his poem, would be unlikely.  Could it reasonably be allowed, however, that there might be found in the work itself indications that Chrétien viewed this romance as different from the others he created, and that its different nature will require a different interpretation?  The structure and content of the prologue to Le Conte du Graal holds the key to deciphering this question.

A Comparison of Prologues: Insights into the Attitude of Chrétien Toward His Work

Chrétien, of course, is known to have maintained a certain pride in his abilities, as is evident from statements he makes when introducing his romances.  In the prologue to Erec et Enide, he composes a small commentary on knowledge and the necessity that it be put to use, affirming that “…reisons est que totes voies / Doit chascuns panser et antandre / A bien dire et a bien aprandre….”[2]  His motivations were not entirely pedagogical, one may assume, since in addition to serving as an exhortation, implicit in the prologue is the idea that Chrétien has done exactly what he has advised.  He states, “…por ce fet bien qui son estuide / atorne a bien quel que il l’ait…”[3]  In Chrétien’s case, the result of his personal efforts is presented by him as “une mout bele conjointure” which he has “tret d'un conte d'avanture.”[4]  It is the realization of his conclusion that “…qui son estuide antrelait / tost I puet tel chose teisir / qui molt vandroit puis a pleisir” and it proves in the person of the author himself that “…cil ne fet mie savoir / qui s’escïence n’abondone / tant con Dex la grasce l’an done….”[5]  Chrétien has presented his readers with an emphatic and obviously confident affirmation of his abilities.  What is more, in addition to being a learned person who has put that learning to good use, Chrétien also desires upon this basis to separate himself from other more “common” composers, as can be seen when he derisively states that his tale is one that “devant rois et devant contes / depecier et corronpre seulent / cil qui de conter vivre vuelent.”[6]  The same theme reappears to some degree in the romance Yvain when he laments that the courtly virtues of his day have attained the status of mere common currency, spoken of and praised by those who no longer understand their meaning.  It is unclear exactly to whom Chrétien is referring, either to those who claim to live the courtly virtues, write about them, or both, but his words merit mention within the context of this discussion:

Or est amour tournee a fable

Por ce que cil qui rien n’en santent

Dïent qu’il aiment, mes il mantent,

Et cil fable et mançonge an font

Qui s’an vantent et droit n’i ont.[7]

Chrétien, however, will bear upon his capable shoulders the task of relating the tale of a more interesting past (…por ce me plest a reconter…[8]), one that will illuminate the true meaning of chevalerie and courtoisie.  By so doing, he places himself in much the same role that he will assume in the prologue to Perceval: dispenser of the word to those who do not have it or yet understand it, undeniably a position of implicit superiority, for he possesses knowledge that the reader does not.

Chrétien’s most enduring boast, however, comes at the end of the prologue to Erec et Enide:

Des or comancerai l'estoire

Qui toz jorz mes iert an memoire

Tant con durra crestiantez;

De ce s'est Crestiiens vantez.[9]

Here, the feeling of confidence shown by the author in his work is unmistakable and intentionally obvious.  Chrétien even uses the verb vanter and makes an implied comparison between the enduring nature of his work and Christianity.  

In the romance Cligés, one encounters the same boastful and confident tone, but expressed differently.  In its opening lines, Chrétien provides a surprisingly long enumeration of his compositions:

Cil qui fist d’Erec et d’Enide

Et les comandemanz d’Ovide

Et l’art d’amors an romans mist,

Et le mors de l’espaule fist,

Del roi Marc et d’Ysalt la blonde,

Et de la hupe et de l’aronde

Et del rossignol la muance,

Un novel conte rancomance…[10]

The mere listing of these works, including adaptations of works that were well read and respected at the time, only serves to show that Chrétien has further mastered his métier.  If one were to indulge for a moment in a seemingly permissible anachronism and regard this catalog as a curriculum vita, he or she would be led to admit that as a writer, Chrétien was highly accomplished and very well qualified, and that he has no hesitation in expressing it. 

The prologues to Chrétien’s romances Erec et Enide, Cligés and Yvain detail the personality of an author who manifests a great deal of poise in his own capacities and the quality of his work.  This is displayed in two principle ways, both by affirmation, as when Chrétien produces the list of works he has composed in Cligés or provides the discourse on knowledge in Erec et Enide, and by way of negation, as when he criticizes other conteurs in Erec et Enide and the pretend claimants to chevalerie and courtoisie in Yvain.   Will this pattern hold true in Le Conte du Graal?

The Prologue to Le Conte du Graal

In fact, Chrétien’s comments regarding his final romance in the prologue to Perceval are noticeably different in word and tone from those just mentioned.  He writes:

Donc avra bien sauve sa peinne

Crestïens, qui antant et peinne

A rimoier le meillor conte,

Par le comandement le conte,

Qui soit contez an cort real :

Ce est li contes del graal,

Don li cuens li baille le livre,

S’orroiz comant il s’an delivre.[11]

The character of this passage is apart from that of his other self-affirmations since, in prior works, Chrétien’s skill and renown are treated as givens, as a fait accompli.  In Erec et Enide, he remarks in no uncertain terms that his story “toz jorz mes iert an memoire.”  The future indicative verb iert conveys the weight of this assurance.  Moreover, the list of compositions provided in the romance Cligés places a heavy emphasis on past achievements whose success ensures that the present undertaking will be just as triumphant.  In the Conte du Graal, though, Chrétien’s choice of the verbs antant and peinne indicate that he is emphasizing less his prior exploits and more the amount of work that is being or has been poured into this composition.  In fact, there is no mention at all of prior works.  Referring to the verses mentioned above, Frappier notes:

…Chrétien n’a pas manqué de préciser, discrètement, ce qui n’était qu’à lui : le soin apporté à la qualité littéraire de l’œuvre….  On sent bien qu’il exprime un contentement, une probité heureuse de maître ouvrier en face d’une riche matière.[12]

It might be pointed out that there exist similarities between the prologues to Le Conte du Graal and Le Chevalier de la Charrete, especially since both praise patrons and use the same verbs antant and peinne.[13]  At first glance, this might seem to weaken the claim that the prologue to Perceval is unique when compared to Chrétien’s other romances.  But upon closer inspection, it becomes obvious that in Lancelot, Chrétien is attributing more of the credit for the work to his patronne Marie de Champagne and, in the context in which the verbs are used, is diminishing his own contribution to the tale.  It is the opposite case in Perceval, where, though Chrétien clearly indicates that Philip of Alsace provided him with source material, he leaves no doubt that the resulting poem is a product of his own pains and efforts.  In reality, the similarities between the two prologues in question exist only superficially and provide, through their contrasting purposes, even more evidence for the assertions put forth here.

Moreover, in the prologue to Perceval, Chrétien expresses the hope that his hard work and dedication will result in “le meillor conte…qui soit contez en cort real.”  There is no mention of prior works, no boasting, no explicit affirmations of himself through self-praise or the criticism of others.  And though Chrétien has shown a tendency to brag of his skill in his other romances, he has never before associated the superlative adjective meillor with one of his own works.  Interesting to note is that the mood of this particular expression is subjunctive rather than indicative, as was the case in Erec (toz jors iert en memoire…).  This demonstrates a recognition on Chrétien’s part of the immense effort that must have gone into the creation of Le Conte du Graal and his intention that it be his best work to date.  As an analysis of the prologues to his romances indicates, then, the story of Perceval must be viewed as differing in its very essence from the previous four romances that Chrétien composed because, as has been illustrated, Chrétien himself indicates that he viewed it differently. 

An Examination of the Prologue to Le Conte du Graal

Chrétien exhibits a manifest tendency to use a variety of sources as a part of the creative process.  To begin with, he was a master of the conjointure. This term, as has been indicated by other critics, identifies a combination of elements forming a new work.[14]  Chrétien prided himself on his ability to mine material from a variety of disparate sources and reform it into brilliant products of his own creation.  Given this propensity for eclecticism, it is not unreasonable to think that an author so ready to combine the matière de Bretagne with courtly and chivalric virtues would not have hesitated to add Christian elements as well.  Chrétien appears to have been predisposed to compose in this manner and such an inclination might have led him to prominently include religious and Biblical elements in Le Conte du Graal, especially if they are illustrative of his own personal ideology and that of his patron.

In the same vein, one of the aspects rendering the prologue to Le Conte du Graal unique is that it is built around several different elements, which may serve as one reason for the many differing interpretations of it that have proliferated over time.  Critics have tended to emphasize the element of their preference at the expense of any others that may be present.  But must one agree with Tony Hunt when he states that the prologue can only be regarded as a Ciceronian plea for recompense formulated by Chrétien to flatter his patron into rewarding him for his services?  And if one desires to emphasize the religious nature of the prologue, must he or she completely disregard the fact that, as a court writer, Chrétien may have included semantic flattery modeled after a classical rhetorical structure with which he might have been familiar?  If Chrétien were skilled at combining material and forms from different sources, why should he not choose to convey his religious message in the prologue while including at the same time a comprehensible and slightly obsequious request to his patron for generous payment?  After all, many scholars now agree that Chrétien straddled the two worlds of the cathedral and the court in his roles as cleric in service of the Church and writer in the service of nobility.  This duality may be simply a reflection of that present in Chrétien’s own life.

Some modern scholarship tends to efface such strict lines of interpretation as have been previously held.  In a recent article, for example, G.G. Heyworth notes:

The prologue to Perceval is a masterpiece of medieval disingenuity.  It succeeds both as a gentle homily on charity and the virtues of giving in the Pauline tradition and as a classical petition for patronage or captatio benevolentiae.[15]

While Heyworth is not mistaken in his willingness to lend credence to both the religious and pecuniary motifs present in the prologue, it is clear that to determine the degree of importance that should be assigned to each of the varying aspects of the prologue, the religious message is deserving of the greatest emphasis when viewed in terms of the overall structure of Le Conte du Graal.  If indeed Chrétien cleverly expressed his desire for payment, this facet of the prologue is bereft of any importance as concerns the remainder of the narrative, for it is a topic that is not revisited once the introduction is complete.  It is interesting only in its own right.  The religious message, on the other hand, is pervasive throughout the narrative and merits greater stress.

Alina Clej’s comments regarding the duality in the ideological structure of Perceval have already been remarked.  Her general conclusion regarding the ideological duality present in Le Conte du Graal has been affirmed, while the specific idea that the religious content of the romance is due to the influence of Philip of Flanders and the romantic form and substance is Chrétien’s major contribution to the work has been criticized.  Heyworth’s thought represents another significant and positive shift in this respect as well, inasmuch as he is ready to attribute each part of the aforementioned duality to Chrétien.  What continues to be lacking in these interpretations is a discussion of the allegorical component of the prologue, the importance of which becomes obvious as one focuses on Chrétien’s use of parables.

The Importance of the Parable in the Prologue to Le Conte du Graal

Parables, of course, were not foreign to those schooled in Biblical thought and exegetical technique, since the Master Teacher made frequent use of them.  The Bible relates a significant conversation between Christ and his disciples:

Les disciples s’approchèrent et lui dirent : Pourquoi leur parles-tu en paraboles ?

Jésus leur répondit : Parce qu’il vous a été donné de connaître les mystères du royaume des cieux, et qu’à eux cela n’a pas été donné.

Car on donnera à celui qui a, et il sera dans l’abondance, mais à celui qui n’a pas, on ôtera même ce q’il a.

C’est pourquoi je leur parle en paraboles, parce qu’en voyant, ils ne voient pas, et qu’en entendant, ils n’entendent ni comprennent.[16]

The pattern Jesus established in his teaching is one of which Chrétien was certainly aware when he chose to include parables in his prologue.  The parable, a type of allegory, consists of “a very short narrative about human beings presented so as to stress the tacit analogy, or parallel, with a general thesis or lesson that the narrator is trying to bring home to his audience.”[17]  It is a vehicle that conveys a comprehensible literal meaning accompanied by an unspoken secondary meaning that must be deciphered by the listener, precisely the idea that the Lord expresses when he affirms that “en voyant, ils ne voient pas, et…en entendant, ils n’entendent pas.”  The use of the parable allows listeners to hear the literal meaning of the allegory without necessarily understanding the secondary meaning; hence, some see and hear the literal content without seeing and hearing the secondary content.  By this means, the veiled message is reserved for those to whom it is intended, who are ready to receive it.  It is important, then, that Chrétien begins by commencing his prologue to Le Conte du Graal with a remark taken from the Second Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians[18] that serves to introduce his own recapitulation of a parable, or that of the Sower:[19]

Qui petit seme petit quialt,

Et qui auques recoillir vialt,

An tel lieu sa semance espande

Que fruit a cent dobles li rande ;

Car en terre qui rien ne vaut

Bone semance i seche et faut.[20]

Now, as Tony Hunt has clearly demonstrated, both the introductory comment and the parable that follows it were by no means unknown in the Twelfth Century, so there is nothing overtly striking in the fact that Chrétien has included them here.  What is remarkable is Chrétien’s extension of the biblical parable when he connects it to the product of his own efforts. 

Before discussing this, however, a few preliminary observations are in order.  First, the inclusion of a parable in the introduction to Le Conte du Graal is yet another factor differentiating this prologue from all other prologues to Chrétien’s romances because none of his other romances includes a summation of, or even a reference to, a parable.  The introduction to Erec et Enide may come closest, beginning with the lines, “Li vilains dit an son respit / Que tel chose l’an an despit / Qui mout vaut miauz que l’an ne cuide,”[21] but instead of a parable one finds a proverb attributed to a peasant, a far cry from the material to be treated in the prologue to Perceval and its more divine provenance.  The presence of the parable, then, is significant.  In tone and essence, its usage to commence Le Conte du Graal fixes the nature of the remainder of the work and serves as an indication of the character of the material it will contain, acting as an indice to how it should be interpreted.  This is in line with to what has already been demonstrated: Chrétien viewed this work as different from his other works.  There is no reason, then, to attribute the religious or sectarian content of the prologue, depending upon how one views it, solely to the influence of Philip of Alsace on the one hand or Cicero on the other, though Philip may certainly have favored the inclusion of religious material.

To take the next step and attempt to comprehend the role of the Parable of the Sower in the prologue, one must first understand the literal and figurative significance of its different parts.  In Chrétien’s rephrasing, the constituent elements are first, the implied presence of a sower (the qui, repeated twice), the act of sowing (Qui petit seme…sa semence espande…), the place of sowing, either favorable or not (tel leu…an terre…), the hope for a harvest and the harvest itself (…petit quialt…qui auques recoillir vialt…fruit a cent dobles li rande…), and of course, the seed (…sa semance espande…bone semance…).  In the Biblical narrative, the semance sown is the parole du royaume,[22] the message that, if heard and understood,[23] permits the hearer to bear fruit, those good works motivated by charity that will bring the initiate into a State of Grace before God.  The semeur is the dispenser of the word, a religious preacher, and the act of sowing is that of propagating that word.  The ground upon which the seed falls is representative of the hearer of the word.  The harvest, the production of fruit, is dependent upon the efforts of the listener to hear and comprehend the word.  This is illustrated in Figure 1.

It was remarked above that it was not the simple inclusion of this parable that was noteworthy, but rather, that close attention should be paid to what Chrétien does after introducing it, for he expressly places himself and his work within the parable itself, thereby extending the allegorical signification of the Biblical account into his own project.  He begins by first positioning himself in the role of the Biblical sower, declaring “Crestïens seme et fet semance,” making it clear that he, too, is disseminating a word,  “un romans qu’il ancomance.”[24]  Here, the semantic parallels between the two join the project of the Biblical sower and Chrétien’s undertaking, the supraliteral content of the parable also making the transition into Chrétien’s extension.[25]  This is depicted in Figure 2.

The unfinished schema described so far finds its completion in the remainder of what Chrétien says in his prologue.  In the Biblical parable, the seeds dispersed fall upon ground that is either favorable or less so to varying degrees, something that Chrétien mirrors in his own restatement: he sows his seed “an si bon leu / qu’il ne puet estre sanz grand preu / qu’il le fet por le plus prodome / qui soit an l’empire de Rome.”[26]  The prodome is, of course, “Phelipes de Flandres,” Chrétien’s patron.  This phrase has engendered much discussion, for it provides justification for the idea that Chrétien was simply composing an éloge for Philip, hoping for a subsequent reward.  G.G. Heyworth comments that there can be “little doubt from lines six to ten that, for Chrétien, the ‘porfit’ from writing a book entails a personal reward…a ‘grand preu’.…”[27]  He bases this interpretation on the etymology of the term grand preu, defining it as “price,” “profit” or “value.”[28]  Tony Hunt also defines grand preu as “material reward or advantage.”[29]

As already noted, there is nothing incorrect in accepting the idea that Chrétien was including in his prologue an oblique plea to his patron for liberal compensation for his exertions.  This brings to mind what has already been said concerning the dédoublement in Chrétien’s text.  More critical to an understanding of the nature of the romance as a whole, though, is the role that Philip and the qualities ascribed to him play in the religious-ideological aspect of the narrative. 

Another question arises here.  If Chrétien is the sower, what is Philip’s role in Chrétien’s application of the parable?  Is he alone meant to represent the good earth upon which the seed is sown?  Considered logically, the answer can only be negative; Chrétien is not literally stating that Philip is the good ground upon which the seed is sown.  When the author claims that he is composing his poem “por le plus prodome / qui soit an l’empire de Rome,” it should be understood that he means that he is writing it at the request of Philip, and that the poem is not, of course, destined solely for Philip, but for a more general readership.  This readership represents the ground upon which the seed is sown.

Why, in that case, does Chrétien invoke the name of Philip?  There are two reasons.  First, Chrétien was indicating his hope for Philip’s liberality.  But more importantly, by presenting Philip and his qualities in contrast to Alexander and his qualities, Chrétien lays the groundwork for the contrasting of principles that will become a key theme in his book: the superiority of charity, which represents a properly ordered love of God and neighbor, to vainglory, which represents a will that follows only its own dictates.

This comparison works neatly into the schema being developed, for in the parable of the sower, there were two basic qualities to the terrain upon which the seed fell: it was either favorable or less so to varying degrees.  If Chrétien is using Philip to illustrate fertile ground, Alexander has been brought into the author’s extension of the prologue to represent the “terre qui rien ne vaut.”[30]  In the Biblical explanation of parables, the ability to comprehend the word and bring forth fruit is possessed by some, but not by others.  In the parable of the sower, it was the quality of the earth that was the determining factor in whether or not the seed would grow.  If Philip and Alexander represent the two general types of ground, there should be found qualities that distinguish them and make one more receptive than the other, that render one more fruitful than the other. 

This is the case.  In the verses that follow, Chrétien enumerates some of the important characteristics that inhere in Philip: the count does not take pleasure in gossip or backbiting (…il n’escote / vilain gap ne parole estote…s’il ot mal dire d’autrui / …ce poise lui…[31]); he loves droite justise, leauté, and Sainte Iglise, while hating vilenie.[32]  But most importantly, his largesse finds its inspiration in charity.  Chrétien introduces this discussion with another allegory of Biblical origin:

L’Evangile, por coi dit ele :

« Tes biens a ta senestre cele ? »

La senestre, selonc l’estoire,

Senefie la vainne gloire

Qui vient de fause ypocrisie.

Et la destre, que senefie ?

Charité, qui de sa bone oeuvre

Pas ne se vante, ençois la coeuvre,

Que nus ne le set se cil non

Qui Dex et Charité a non.[33]

Philip, consequently, represents good earth because he possesses the many virtues ascribed to him by Chrétien, and above all generosity motivated by charity.  Alexander, by contrast, being motivated by vainglory, represents those unreceptive to the word.  The concepts of charity and vainglory are deserving of more elaboration, however, in order to clearly distinguish their significance in the prologue and their continuation in the poem itself. 

How was charity defined in the Twelfth Century?  When Chrétien invoked the principle of charity, what did he understand by it?  Hugh of Saint Victor, who has been used as a reference point thus far in our discussion, provided a definition that applies itself perfectly to Chrétien’s usage of the term in Le Conte du Graal.  Basing himself on Augustine, Hugh states:

Holy Scripture commends a twofold charity to us, namely, of God and of neighbor; charity of God that we may love Him so as to rejoice in Him; charity of neighbor, that we may love him not so as to rejoice in him but with him in God, that is, so as to love God on account of Him, Himself, but our neighbor on account of God.[34] 

In all likelihood, Chrétien’s definition encompassed the two-fold division present in Hugh’s explanation of charity, or love of God and neighbor, properly ordered.[35]  That is to say, all things that are loved should be loved with reference to God.  In vainglory, the opposing principle, all things that are loved are loved with reference to self.  The generosity of both Philip and Alexander results in gifts, but it is a question of motivation.  The works done by Philip, because of the goodness of his motivation are good works, while those resulting from Alexander’s vainglory are empty.  A more complete schema is illustrated in Figure 3.

As already mentioned, Philip and Alexander are more than individuals representing only themselves.  They are types, signifying the audience for whom Chrétien intended his romance, and this is precisely the point at which the prologue connects to the following narrative.

[1] Ibid., p. 173.

[2] Erec et Enide, v. 10-12.  All citations are from: Chrétien de Troyes. Erec et Enide.  Ed. Mario Roques. Paris: Librairie Honoré Champion, 1970.

[3] Ibid., v. 4-5

[4] Ibid., v. 12-13.

[5] Ibid., v. 16-18.

[6] Ibid., v. 20-22.

[7] Le Chevalier au Lyon, v. 25-28.  All citations are from : Chrétien de Troyes.  Le Chevalier au Lion (Yvain).  Ed. Mario Roques.  Paris : Librairie Honoré Champion, 1971.

[8] Ibid., v. 33.

[9] Erec et Enide., v. 23-26.

[10] Cligés, v. 1-8.

[11]Le Conte du Graal, v. 61-68.

[12] Frappier, Chrétien de Troyes et le Mythe du Graal, p. 172.

[13] Le Chevalier de la Charrette, v. 23.  All citations are from: Chrétien de Troyes.  Le Chevalier de la Charette.  Ed. Mario Roques.  Paris : Librairie Honoré Champion, 1969.

[14] Cf. Michelle A Freeman. The Poetics of "Translatio studii" and "Conjointure": Chrétien de Troyes's "Cligés."  Lexington, KY: French Forum, 1979; and, Douglas Kelly. "Sens" et "Conjointure" in the "Chevalier de la Charrette.”  The Hague and Paris: Mouton, 1966.

[15] G.G. Heyworth.  “Perceval and the Seeds of Culture: Work, Profit and Leisure in the Prologue of Perceval.”  Neophilologus 84.1 (January 2000), p. 18.

[16] Matthew 13:10-13.  All biblical citations from La Sainte Bible: Nouvelle Version Segond Révisée.  Paris: Alliance Biblique Universelle, 1989.

[17] See M.H. Abrams.  A Glossary of Literary Terms.  Fort Worth: Harcourt Brace College Publishers, 1993, p. 6.  We will also take Abram’s definition of allegory as our own operative definition.  It is a modern one that we feel best conveys the spirit of the medieval concept: “An allegory is a narrative fiction in which the agents and actions, and sometimes the setting as well, are contrived to make coherent sense on the ‘literal,’ or primary, level of signification, and at the same time to signify a second, correlated order of agents, concepts and events”  (p. 4).

[18] 2 Corinthians 9:6.

[19] Matthew 13 :4-9.

[20] Le Conte du Graal, v. 1-6.

[21] Erec et Enide, v. 1-3.

[22] Matthew 13:19.

[23] Matthew 13:23.

[24] Le Conte du Graal, v. 7-8.

[25] Most critics of Le Conte du Graal are clearly for or against the presence of allegory in the text.  Recently, Jeff Rider put forth a surprising hypothesis: “…the Conte du Graal was intended to create a strong impression that it possesses an allegorical dimension and, simultaneously, to frustrate all attempts to grasp this dimension, to prevent listeners and readers from allegorizing it in any satisfactory or compelling fashion.”  See Jeff Rider.  “The Perpetual Enigma of Chrétien’s Graal Episode.”  Arthuriana 8.1 (1998), p. 6.  He adds: “The Conte du Graal is finished, however, and brilliantly so, if Chrétien wanted to write an enigmatic text.  I suggest that he did want to do so and that the romance is a monumentally successful example of a deliberately obscure story.  The secret of the Grail, as Chrétien himself tells us, is not an answer, not an allegorical higher meaning, but a question, an indication of an unknown, but promised meaning to come, a perpetual deferral of meaning and closure” (p. 19).  In other words, Chrétien purposefully provides the reader with indications of the presence of allegory in the form of confusing elements, when in fact allegory is not present at all: the confusing elements are nothing more than what they quite literally are.  They have no interpretation.  Rider bases this conclusion on the episode at the Graal Castle and its confusing blend of elements.  It is nevertheless a dangerous leap to conclude that, since the elements in this scene are confusing and easily misunderstood, Chrétien was attempting to suggest the presence of allegory when there was none.  Allegory necessarily implies the presence of meaning not easily understood, and the conclusion that allegory is not present may simply reflect the fact that the critic was unable to decipher it.  Furthermore, to apply conclusions made based solely upon one scene in the poem to the poem itself is shortsighted.

[26] Le Conte du Graal, v. 9-12.

[27] Heyworth, p. 20.

[28] Ibid.

[29] Hunt, p. 364.

[30] Once again, we wish to emphasize that we have no qualms with the idea that Chrétien was also praising Philip and contrasting him with another well-known personage respected for his largesse with the intention of engaging in flattery and in the hope of receiving a financial reward.  We simply wish to assert that this is not Chrétien’s primary intention. 

[31] Le Conte du Graal, v. 21-24.

[32] Ibid., v. 25-27.

[33] Ibid., v. 38-46.

[34] On the Sacraments of the Christian Faith, II.13.vi

[35] In a very general sense, the duty of showing Christian charity became incumbent upon knights gradually, and perhaps even helped shape the ordo of chevalier.  It was born of necessity, culminating at one point in the pax dei, but undergoing further evolution until it came to be defined as the duty to defend the Church and the poor, and eventually also to fight the enemies of Christ.  The gradual sacralisation of chivalry may have been an historical strand upon which Chrétien drew as he composed the story of Perceval.  Describing this measured social change, Georges Duby notes: “Celle-ci avait été rendue nécessaire par la dégradation royale et par l’évolution de la société, où l’activité guerrière devenait le privilège d’une classe déterminée.  En fait, toutes les dispositions des conciles réformateurs visaient cette classe nouvelle et les puissances d’agressivité dont elle était chargée.  Il fallut d’abord s’en défendre, les discipliner, puis s’efforcer de les détourner vers le bien.  Aussi seule une portion du laïcat – le groupe des milites – des chevaliers, subit-elle directement l’influence des institutions de paix.  Mais celle-ci fut profonde.  La réglementation édictée par les conciles fixa d’abord les contours de ce corps social ; elle lui donna sa consistance ; et ce fut elle qui le constitua en ordo.  Puis elle lui forgea une morale particulière.  Au seuil du XIIe siècle la nova militia, revêtue d’armes bénites, se voyait assigner deux tâches conjointes… : en premier lieu défendre l’Eglise et les pauvres ; en second lieu combattre les ennemis du Christ.  C’est à dire, en fait, faire régner la paix de Dieu.”  See Georges Duby.  Hommes et Structures du Moyen Age.  Paris and La Haye: Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes and Mouton and Co., 1973, p. 238.  Knights were, in theory, placed in the service of God and man, encompassing the two-fold definition of charity mentioned above.  John S. Maddux ties the two-fold idea of charity to Perceval’s progress in Le Conte du Graal: “C’est en prenant conscience du rapport qui le lie avec Dieu que Perceval peut se rendre compte  de son erreur à propos de la vie chevaleresque.  Il aperçoit que son ignorance coupable de Dieu a eu pour effet de vicier ses exploits chevaleresques les meilleurs, car elle lui a permis de tout reporter sur lui-même et d’en faire un motif de gloire, même lorsqu’il se faisait le défenseur des faibles.  Il découvre maintenant que l’essence de la vraie chevalerie est d’être toute entière orientée vers les autres, sans aucun retour vers le moi, et que, pour être cela, elle doit être toute entière tournée vers Dieu.”  See John S. Maddux.  “La Pénitence de Perceval.”  Communio 3 (1978), pp. 68-69.