INTERPRETATIONS OF THE PROLOGUE TO LE CONTE DU GRAAL : THE POLEMIC

Methodology

Since establishing the presence of allegory within a literary work and giving its interpretation is a venture often fraught with ambiguity, a methodology will be adopted in order to render all conclusions in this regard more concrete and justifiable.  The guidelines provided by Harry F. Williams supply just such a set of principles.  In his essay “Interpretations of the Conte del Graal and Their Critical Reactions,” he presents a few basic rules that he suggests any critic should follow when interpreting this unique work.[1]  He advises that the following errors be avoided:

• Seeking the sense of the Conte del Graal in other grail texts.

• Bending the text to fit external ideas.

• Seeking the key to interpreting the text in accessory themes.

• Explaining the Perceval part and ignoring the Gauvain part.

• Regarding sources or analogues as necessarily a key to the sense of Chrétien’s story.[2]

Williams’s rules are intended to be valid for any attempt at interpreting Chrétien’s romance, regardless of approach, and they will adapt themselves perfectly to a critique of the text that seeks to find its meaning presented allegorically.  Williams also intended that his rules apply to criticism of the entire text of Le Conte du Graal, but they are just as applicable to a specific analysis of the prologue, so long as it can be demonstrated that the interpretation of the prologue provided will carry over flawlessly to an explanation of the following narrative.

Three Interpretations

To show that the thought of Chrétien de Troyes has undergone a formative shift from the writing of romances celebrating courtly and chivalric virtues to a Christian allegorical analysis of what it means to be a chevalier, one must begin with the prologue.  In the case of Perceval, the unique and complex nature of Chrétien’s overall project has engendered a great deal of discussion, though surprisingly, the prologue is often mentioned only briefly, and usually as a minor part of whatever argument the author is attempting to develop. Nevertheless, three general strands of interpretation can be identified that have emerged as prominent with regards to Chrétien’s initial remarks. 

Frappier: the Prologue and the Sen of the Narrative

The first and perhaps most influential theory concerning the importance of the prologue was expressed by Jean Frappier when he noted that it would be “étonnant que Chrétien eût écrit ce prologue dans la seule intention d’une louange à l’adresse de Philippe d’Alsace et sans établir quelque rapport avec le sen de son roman.”[3]  Or as he has stated elsewhere:

…la louange assez grandiloquente du mécène semble dépasser la portée d’une flatterie plus ou moins intéressé.  Son accent est tel qu’on est conduit à se demander si elle ne s’accorde pas avec le sen du roman.  Elle célèbre un idéal de chevalerie où la gloire du monde s’efface au profit de l’humilité chrétienne et de l’amour divin.[4]

In other words, as Frappier understands it, the prologue serves as a pointer, establishing the lines according to which much of the remainder of the narrative will play out, especially the recounting of the episode of Chrétien’s visit to his uncle, the hermit. 

Frappier’s interpretation is closely intertwined with the fact that he sees the story of Perceval as essentially pedagogical in nature.  Referring to Chrétien’s intentions in writing Le Conte du Graal, he notes:

Tel semble bien avoir été son but : à travers une suite d’expériences et d’apprentissages, d’audaces naïves et de leçons mal comprises, mener un adolescent de noble lignage, ignorant de tout et d’abord de lui-même, mais d’instinct généreux et d’intention droite, jusqu’à la découverte du divin.[5]

The prologue illustrates this emphasis in its concentration around the virtue of charity, a trait Perceval will need to develop to cap his progress as a knight: “Que Philippe d’Alsace ait mérité ou non de tels éloges, il n’importe guère ; seule compte la pensée du poète, et il est hors de doute qu’il place désormais la spiritualité chrétienne à la source des plus hautes vertus chevaleresques.”[6]  The relationship between the prologue and the narrative is, however, direct and makes no recourse to allegory in giving meaning to the conjointure.  In other words, the principles of charity and vainglory may play an important role in the story and the prologue certainly indicates this, but their meaning is not conveyed through anything other than the development of Perceval and the literal comparison of Perceval to Gauvain.[7] 

Frappier is not incorrect in his approach, but it is incomplete.  By tackling the work literally and refusing to admit the presence of allegory, he is led to focus solely on the chronological flow of events and as a result views unclear portions of the poem as anomalies.[8]  This perspective is anachronistic, which is to say, while the critic cannot afford to work under the burden of too many assumptions regarding Chrétien’s time, he or she should bear in mind that the medieval mindset was, generally speaking, different from his or her own.  A blanket refusal to discuss or consider allegory in relation to a Twelfth Century text written in all probability by a cleric and including numerous religious motifs deprives an interpretation of the composition of a certain richness that the author may have wished to include. 

An unwillingness to consider the presence of allegory in Chrétien’s romance also leads to another difficulty: brief attention is paid to any meaningful details in the prologue.  Like many others, Frappier evidences the tendency to engage in little discussion of Chrétien’s introduction other than to provide a summary and indicate that it may have some relevance to the interpretation of the remainder of the narrative.

Tony Hunt: the Stand-Alone Prologue

At the other end of the spectrum is Tony Hunt, who asserts that there is no relationship whatsoever maintained between Chrétien’s prologue to Perceval and the balance of the work.  In his view, the opening is little more than a “captatio benevolentiae with little discussion of the contents of the narratio.”[9]  The principles of caritas and largesse invoked therein only serve to express Chrétien’s hope for generous remuneration from his patron.  The Biblical discussions may be little more than a clever attempt on Chrétien’s part to reach Count Philip by playing on his religious inclinations, an aspect of the Count’s character to which others have already drawn attention.[10]

Hunt is understandably critical of the tendency among reviewers of Chrétien’s poem to hold to the view that “the prologue to Li contes del graal furnishes us with a positive indication of the sen of the romance to which it is affixed,” for he finds the “premiss” upon which these opinions have been put forth to be “wholly challengeable.”[11]  Instead, he believes that “unprejudiced enquiry” will lead the critic to conclude that, far from introducing elements which will direct the reader’s attention to important aspects within the narrative itself, the prologue is but a self-contained unit with no bearing on the remainder of the romance.

Hunt provides evidence for his ideas by first inviting the reader to consider that a prologue “which explicitly connects with the following narratio and may meaningfully review its contents…does not appear to have been much employed by writers of Old French romance.”[12]  He adds: “it can scarcely be claimed that there exists any other romance by Chrestien in which a relationship can surely be established between the contents of the prologue and the sen of the romance.”[13]  If this were the case in Perceval, he intimates, it would be a striking exception to this rule.

Hunt next addresses the significance of the Biblical parables that Chrétien used in his prologue.  Refusing to accept these insertions as religiously motivated or intrinsically religious at all, he concludes that Chrétien makes use of them for more practical purposes: “There is nothing religious about this; rather, the application of the parable’s thematic structure to an analysis of a secular condition.”[14]  This secular condition is, of course, Chrétien’s relationship to his virtuous patron and is more or less financial in nature.  The count has given Chrétien a task to accomplish, Chrétien has completed it, and he now employs a few well-placed metaphors and references in order to influence the goodwill of Philip.  From this perspective, the parables Chrétien included in the prologue to Le Conte du Graal have no spiritual meaning for either Chrétien or the romance he has composed, and are used as any other image or proverb might be: for purposes of illustration and nothing more.  Moreover, Hunt subtly shifts the sources that could have influenced or inspired the opening lines of Chrétien’s prologue and other, it would seem, overt scriptural references (2 Corinthians 9:6 and Matthew 13:4-9), from the Bible to secular and quasi secular ones such as Cicero or John of Salisbury. 

Hunt also goes to great pains to point out that Chrétien obtained his information on the virtues and vices of Philip and Alexander, the two main figures in the prologue, from “traditional anecdotal material relating to Alexander, and fidelity to the real character of Philip of Flanders, as it is revealed to us by contemporary historical writers.”[15]  Hunt is without doubt correct in this, but the added emphasis on non-Biblical sources serves, one may suppose, to lend additional weight to the idea that Chrétien was looking for material in sources that were not necessarily religious in nature.

Hunt portrays Chrétien in a less than religious light as well, justifying it by pointing out what appears to be a significant blunder on the part of the romancier, or his misattribution in the citation of a well-known scripture:

Deus est charitez, et qui vit

An charité, selonc l’escrit,

Sainz Pos le dit et je le lui,

Il maint an Deu, et Deus an lui.[16]

Everyone is by now well aware of this “elementary mistake,” as Hunt terms it.   Chrétien has, of course, ascribed a quote from John (1 John 4:16) to Paul.  Any religious weight that the Biblical allusion might carry is, for Hunt, obviated by this error, for it seems evident to him that “the reference stands in the service of eulogy rather than theology.”[17]  Hunt even surmises that this provides evidence upon which to base his assertion that Chrétien could have been using a quotation he received from a second-hand source, suggesting the Policraticus of John of Salisbury, which discusses themes similar to those that concern Chrétien here.[18]

In fact, it appears to be the program of Tony Hunt to prove his point by gradually removing Chrétien from the sphere of religious influence altogether: “It seems to me that we may well admit that Chrestien was none too familiar with the writings of Paul.  Such a deficiency is not really incompatible with him having received a clerkly training.”[19]  This illustrates the focal point of Hunt’s position.  By 1) lessening the influence of religion over Chrétien, 2) suggesting non-religious sources that would have, in his judgment, been just as adequate as any strictly religious sources that Chrétien had available to him in supplying him with his ideas, and then 3) finding ways to posit that Chrétien might have used them, he is able to disavow any innate religious significance in what Chrétien has to say since neither his sources or his motivations were entirely devout in the first place.  This conclusion hinges upon the risky contention that while Chrétien may have been trained as a clerk, religion ceased to play an active role in his life, if it ever did.

Hunt’s arguments are persuasive at first glance, but they do not all stand up to closer scrutiny.  First, Hunt surmised that 1) because the prologus ante rem was not widely used in Old French literature, and 2) because Chrétien had never before written a prologue whose content provides insight into the sen of its accompanying narrative, it would be exceptional were this to be the case with Le Conte du Graal.  But what if it could be demonstrated that the Conte was, in fact, exceptional?  Even Hunt admits that it is possible that this type of prologue could have been used at the time, and, in due time, arguments will be provided supporting the idea that Chrétien intended the story of Perceval to be in many respects unlike the other romances he had composed.  In any case, by Hunt’s logic, if Chrétien were incapable of writing a prologue that differed in nature from others he had written, he should also have been incapable of producing a narrative that was substantially different from others that he had produced.  Now, the fundamental differences between Le Conte du Graal and Chrétien’s other four romances are present in the narrative.[20]  If its content could be so effectively different from that of the narrative portions of Chrétien’s other romances, why not then the prologue?  Hunt does not address this issue. 

Hunt also dismisses out of hand and without adequate explanation the usage of parables to convey a religious message in the prologue to Perceval.  Moreover, he gradually and purposefully reduces the role of the Bible in providing Chrétien with source material until it is no longer present as a source at all.  Initially, he states that the prologue “makes use of several Biblical reminisces and allusions which form the backcloth against which Count Philip of Flanders is presented.”[21]  He quickly points out, however, that “a closely related proverb is quoted as illustration of a verbal witticism in a manual of rhetoric, Cicero’s De oratore,” that another of Philip’s court writers had collected several proverbial expressions, and that Chrétien had used some of these same expressions.[22]  One wonders what leads Hunt to bring up these ideas in this context.  If there is an importance in pointing out that proverbs similar to the Biblical ones employed by Chrétien also occur in Cicero and that other sayings Chrétien used are found in a compilation made by another of Philip’s court writers, what is it?  Is the reader meant to assume that Chrétien had sources available to him other than the Bible from which he might have taken material that we, his readers, only assume to be Biblical in origin?  Perhaps, but it is just as likely that the appearance in Cicero of a proverb similar to one from the Bible is mere coincidence, and Hunt mentions only in a footnote that it is possible that the composer of Li proverbe au vilain wrote after Chrétien.[23]

Hunt is as disingenuous when he discusses Chrétien’s comments on charity and vainglory in the extended metaphor comparing Philip to Alexander.  He is right when he notes that outwardly, Philip and Alexander both exhibited the same praiseworthy virtue, or largesse.  And yet, in the case of Alexander, this virtue may not be praiseworthy after all, for his motivation is recognition, it is vainne gloire.[24]  Hunt sees in this question of motivation yet another implied reference to Cicero.  He indicates that Chrétien, “in emphasizing that Philip’s largesse is without hypocrisy…refers to the injunction of the Gospels,” while “his division of motives (symbolized by the left hand and the right hand) again reflects Cicero’s discussion of liberality in the De officiis….”[25]  And yet one questions how the division of motives, symbolized through an obviously Biblical reference no less (right hand/left hand[26]), somehow reflects Cicero’s thought, while Philip’s largesse being without hypocrisy, which necessarily involves Philip’s motives, is Biblical.  This is nonsensical.   Indeed, the division of motives could just as simply have been Biblical, as it is amply discussed in the New Testament and in terms that apply themselves more clearly to Chrétien’s text than do the ideas of Cicero.[27]  But by bringing up Cicero in this way, Hunt can now claim the following:

So far Chrestien’s eulogy of his patron is a composite presentation of historical fact, general scriptural allusions (some of them proverbial) [emphasis mine], Ciceronian ethical theory [no general allusions to this!] and traditional Alexander material reminiscent of exempla contained in twelfth-century moral works of the ‘miroir de prince’ genre.[28]

And finally, after much more mention of non-religious sources and a summation, Hunt draws a striking conclusion:

In other words, the content of the prologue to Li contes del graal is entirely [emphasis mine] determined by Ciceronian moral teaching on liberality, traditional anecdotal material relating to Alexander, and fidelity to the real character of Philip of Flanders, as it is revealed to us by contemporary historical writers.[29]

Abruptly, there is no more mention of the “Biblical reminiscences and allusions” pointed out early in Hunt’s article that supposedly formed the “backcloth” against which Philip was described.  In fact, the Biblical sources, even though some of Chrétien’s references are patently Biblical in nature, have, through the course of the article, been gradually effaced.  Hunt provides no adequate justification for doing this.  It appears that a wrenching of the text and Chrétien’s sources has been carried out in order to justify the claim that “the prologue has nothing to offer of direct relevance to the interpretation of Perceval’s chivalric and spiritual development.”[30]

In Chrétien’s error in placing the words of Saint John in the mouth of Saint Paul, however, Hunt appears to have irrefutable evidence of Chrétien’s lack of attention to religious detail, justifying a conclusion that, as we indicated above, is central to his argument: Chrétien was not himself a very religious person.  Jean-Guy Gouttebroze addresses this assumption in an article in which he persuasively argues that not only does the misattribution cited above fail to illustrate Chrétien’s lack of religiosity, but on the contrary, it proves that Chrétien was versed in the material used in the mass toward the end of the Twelfth Century.

Gouttebroze first questions the assumption that Chrétien’s statement “et je le lui” in verse 49 constitutes “un acte de documentation – une consultation du texte de Saint Jean.”[31]  He argues against the idea that Chrétien’s usage of the verb lire necessarily implies the silent reading of a text, formulating his argument on the premise that the modern connotation of the verb might not apply as neatly to the time period in which Le Conte du Graal was composed:

…la rareté et le coût des manuscrits, l’analphabétisme d’une grande partie de la population donnent alors une grande importance à la diffusion orale de l’écrit.  De ce fait, lire, dans le sens de propager oralement la teneur d’un texte, occupe, dans la civilisation médiévale, une place considérable, privilégiée, tant en milieu clérical qu’en milieu laïc.[32]

Having established that the verb lire could also refer to an oral reading of a text, Guttebroze turns to the composition of the literature read at mass during the period in which Chrétien wrote, which was generally divided into two parts: an oral reading from the Gospels and one from the Epistles.  This practice had long been recognized, but with the passage of time, collections of readings began to be produced for purposes of convenience and reference.  Readings from the Gospels was collected in a liber evangeliorum and that from the Epistles was placed in an epistolarius, which, because of the predominance of material from Saint Paul, was often referred to as the apostolus.[33]  Therefore :

…quand [Chrétien] attribue à saint Paul un passage d’une épître de saint Jean qui fait partie de l’épistolier, [il] agit comme un clerc qui a l’habitude de pratiquer ce volume : le cas-sujet sainz Pos est une adaptation en langue d’oïl du concept d’apostolus.[34]

As remarked, the epistolarius consisted mainly of the works of Paul, since he wrote the majority of epistles contained in the New Testament.  Added to this material were epistles by other writers, but they made up a much smaller part of the entire compilation.  “Par extension de sens,” notes Gouttebroze, “saint Paul arrive à englober saint Jean.”[35]  Furthermore:

…[n]otre rigueur moderne nous amène à distinguer les deux auteurs ; les clercs médiévaux n’étaient pas incultes au point d’ignorer les spécificités de ces deux messages, mais la composition et l’usage de l’épistolier les avaient accoutumés à attribuer l’ensemble des péricopes qu’il contenait à l’Apôtre des Gentils.[36]

As a further proof, Gottebroze points out another remarkable fact: no later copyist changed Chrétien’s text so that it correctly assigned the quote to Saint John, indicating that “pour eux aussi, la référence à la première épître de saint Jean s’inscrivait dans l’unité doctrinale de l’Apostolus.”[37]

Gottebroze uses these conclusions to demonstrate that, since Chrétien notes that he has read the epistolarius, he would have been a member of the clergy “à un grade relativement élevé de la hiérarchie ecclésiastique.”[38]  Gouttebroze is cited here, however, not in order to determine Chrétien’s church functions per se, but to establish that, when viewed from the perspective of Chrétien and other contemporaries, the attribution of saint John’s words to saint Paul are not necessarily the de facto proof of Chrétien’s lack of religiosity that many, including Tony Hunt, assume them to be.  They may instead provide proof to the contrary.  This point is essential, for it would be difficult to claim that Chrétien purposefully attached a religious allegorical signification to characters in his prologue that extended to characters in the narrative portion of Le Conte du Graal if he were himself irreligious.  Tony Hunt bases much of his argument upon this being the case, though Gouttebroze’s evidence indicates that it may not be so.   Moreover, the same religious themes invoked in the prologue find a definite continuation in the narrative (i.e., the principle of charity) and, furthermore, the idea of Philippe’s motivations finding their source in the principle of charity and those of Alexander in that of vainglory finds a logical extension in the development of Perceval (a more advanced representation of the place of charity in the growth of the chevalier), and the static, worldly nature of Gauvain (an indictment of vainglory), an interpretation that does not require a bending of the text’s literal message or a reliance upon ambiguous passages.[39]

Holmes and Klenke: the Prologue and Allegory

Others have claimed that an accurate comprehension of Chrétien’s last romance must be founded, as they claim the author intended it to be, upon an allegorical interpretation of its elements.  The most provocative proponents of this idea have been U.T. Holmes and Sister M. Amelia Klenke.[40]  According to them, this theory is justified first of all by the prominence of Biblical references in the prologue.  Given that at the time much Biblical exegesis was firmly grounded in deciphering the mystical meaning within scripture, an author of the period, educated in cathedral schools and writing an introduction that relies upon scripture to derive its meaning, could reasonably be expected to have intended his work to be interpreted along mystical lines.  If the prologue provides the reader with a basis from which to interpret the remainder of the narrative, the mystical component of the prologue will expand to include the rest of the work. 

For and Against Allegory

This theory has found little support, and predictably so given that in this day of literary criticism generally purged of any religious bent, it relies upon a mystical interpretation that is decidedly Judeo-Christian in nature.  It would be difficult, however, to argue that Le Conte du Graal, not to mention the location and time period in which it was written, is bereft of Judeo-Christian elements.  One has only to note the numerous Biblical references in the narrative itself, or to cast his or her eye forward to the knight Perceval’s final step in his progress as a chevalier: the understanding of the principle of charity, precisely the same notion around which the entire prologue functions.  Various critics of allegorical interpretation have attempted to explain away any major religious signification in this poem by painting Chrétien as simply a writer of romances based on the matière de Bretagne with a marked propensity for moralization.[41]  Some have even gone to great lengths to provide evidence for their claims.  Alina Clej, for example, assumes that it is “fort probable que le ‘gros paquet d’éléments religieux’ présents dans le Conte se rapporte au ‘commandement’ de Philippe d’Alsace, ‘li quens’ qui ‘li bailla le livre,’”[42] and that there is a duality to the text of Perceval resulting from the Chrétien’s attempt to create a romance on the one hand, and on the other, the desire of his patron the count to see Biblical elements and an edifying theme included in the work.[43]  This convenient separation of Chrétien from any desire of his own to include such overtly religious themes in his work neatly permits the critic to dismiss their importance out of hand and concentrate solely upon the courtly, chivalric coloring of the romance, with perhaps passing mention of the “intermittent” Biblical intrusions.

Clej is correct, however, in noting a “dédoublement à l’intérieur de la narration … une duplicité du contenu, aussi bien que de la forme,”[44] for the intermingling of such an overtly religious ideology as that introduced in the prologue with the form and content of a romance narrative, a genre celebrating courtoisie and chevalerie and already an interesting combination of elements in its own right, requires the bringing together of very dissimilar elements.  Clej errs, though, by being too ready to attribute this mixture solely to the influence of Philippe of Flanders while providing no real evidence that Chrétien would not have blended religious elements into his romance at his own behest other than offering up the vague assumption that he has never shown an inclination to do such a thing before.[45] 

This is not to imply, however, that any criticism of the Judeo-Christian allegorical interpretation of the prologue is invalid.  Tony Hunt is right in pointing out that Holmes and Klenke’s discussion of the Chrétien’s introduction to Le Conte du Graal is often unscholarly and works under far too many assumptions.  What is more, Holmes and Klenke focus far too little attention on the prologue itself.

The clearest expression of these authors’ conclusions is found in two works: Chrétien, Troyes, and the Graal and Chrétien de Troyes.[46]  Neither work devotes adequate consideration to the prologue as it pertains to the remainder of the narrative.  Sister Klenke dedicates an entire chapter to a discussion of the prologue in Chrétien, Troyes, and the Grail, which, in fact, contains very little discussion of the prologue itself.  She begins promisingly, declaring that “a thoughtful consideration of Chrétien’s prologue should throw light upon the poet’s intent in writing his Perceval,”[47] but the following commentary on the prologue is surprisingly lacking in thought.  She establishes nothing concrete with regard to Chrétien’s introduction; instead, she dares other critics to disprove her assumptions, continually begging the question and employing circular logic.[48]  Only a very few conclusions can be drawn based upon her comments: first, that Chrétien quotes many scriptures and, second, that because of his equation of Philip with charity, “it is only fair to assume that Chrétien was thinking in terms of that patron’s liberality to the Church and to the Crusades….”[49]  Her final argumentative word regarding the prologue is awkward and ill-founded:

It would be nonsense to argue as if the prologue does not set the tone for the poem which it introduces; it is even greater nonsense to suppose that a story is non-spiritual because “specifically doctrinal matter” fills up space in the amount of only 3.73%.[50]

In all, the discussion of the introduction itself is empty of real content and overflows with assumptions and rhetorical loopholes.  No proof is put forth to identify elements in the prologue – important, according to Klenke, in throwing light upon the remainder of the text – that find continuation in the narrative.  Klenke does mention Philip’s charity in connection with the Church and the Crusades, and charity is to be a reoccurring theme in the remainder of Chrétien’s poem, but in that portion of Klenke’s discussion, Philip’s charity is toward the Jews, for whom peaceful conversion will prevent physical strife and persecution.

Overall, U.T. Holmes gives a more satisfactory argument for the Judeo-Christian interpretation of Le Conte du Graal in his book Chrétien de Troyes, but his discussion of the prologue is as wanting as, perhaps more than, that provided by Klenke.  He provides only a summary.[51]  What one would hope to see in the work of authors that advance as unique a claim as that of Holmes and Klenke, authors who openly claim that the prologue is intimately tied to the allegorical narrative that follows it, is a deep scrutiny of the allegory contained within the prologue itself.  

In fact, Holmes and Klenke have acted no differently than many other interpreters of Le Conte du Graal.  They have attempted to decipher the portions of the story most interesting to them and meaningful to their leanings, using those parts of the tale that lend themselves readily to a mystical interpretation on the basis of their very vagueness while ignoring the more concrete and literal aspects of the text and the message they convey.  The interpretation the knight Perceval’s story must consider Le Conte du Graal as an organic whole, or at least those portions of the work that the interpreters accept as those which Chrétien himself composed.

[1] See Harry F. Williams. “Interpretations of the Conte del Graal and Their Critical Reactions.”  The Sower and His Seed: Essays on Chrétien de Troyes.  Ed. Rupert T. Pickens.  Lexington: French Forum, 1983: 146-154.

[2] Ibid., p. 150.

[3] Frappier, Jean.  “Le graal et la chevalerie”, Romania 75 (1954), p. 172.

[4] Frappier, Jean.  Chrétien de Troyes: l’Homme et l’Oeuvre.  Paris: Hatier-Boivin, 1957, p. 171.

[5] Ibid., p. 172.

[6] Frappier, Jean.  Chrétien de Troyes et le Mythe du Graal: Etude sur Perceval ou le Conte du Graal.  Paris : Société d’Edition d’Enseignement Supérieure, 1972, p. 57.

[7] See also Sargent-Baur, Barbara Nelson.  “Perceval’s Acculturation in the Conte du Graal.”  Bibiliographical Bulletin of the International Arthurian Society XLVII (1995).  Sargent-Baur provides a more recent example of this type of thought.  She is vitally concerned with the fact that Chrétien seems here to be exhibiting a new concentration on what it means to be a knight by portraying Perceval as he becomes one, and she also finds Chrétien’s contrasting of charity and vainglory pertinent to the narrative.  She notes that this contrast is “the more striking that it is preceded by Chrétien’s longest and most serious Prologue, one in which he repeatedly sounds that note of charity as the highest of the virtues and contrasts it with vainglory…” (p. 335).  Like Frappier, however, she does not believe that Chrétien goes beyond the literal level of the text to give meaning to his innovative ideas.

[8] Frappier, op. cit., p. 57.

[9] Hunt, Tony.  “The Prologue to Chrestien’s Li Contes del Graal.”  Romania 92 (1971), p. 361.

[10] See footnote 50 below. 

[11] Hunt, p. 359.

[12] Ibid., p. 361.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Ibid., p. 363.

[15] Ibid., p. 379.

[16] See Le Conte du Graal, v. 47-50.  All citations are from Chrétien de Troyes.  Le Conte du Graal (Perceval).  Ed. Félix Lecoy.  Paris : Librairie Honoré Champion, 1972. 

[17] Hunt, p. 375.

[18] Ibid., p. 369.

[19] Ibid., p. 375, note 2.

[20] We may appear to be engaging in exactly the unscholarly type of generalization of which Hunt is so critical.  Nevertheless, due to limitations, we may cite the fact, as mentioned in our introduction, that Chrétien combines the otherwise independent stories of two characters and introduces a new virtue, charity, to which the traditional virtues of chevalerie and courtoisie are subjugated in the life of Perceval.  See also our discussion on pages 18-19.

[21] Ibid., p. 362.

[22] Ibid., pp. 362-363.

[23] Ibid., p. 363.

[24] Le Conte du Graal, v. 40.

[25] Hunt, p. 372.

[26] Matthew 6: 3-4.

[27] Matthew 6:2 is a perfect example.

[28] Hunt, p. 374.

[29] Ibid., p. 379.

[30] Ibid., p. 359.

[31] J.-G. Guttebroze, “Chrétien de Troyes Lecteur.”  Romania 114 (1996), p. 530.

[32] Ibid., p. 525.

[33] Ibid., p. 531.

[34] Ibid., p. 532.

[35] Ibid.

[36] Ibid.

[37] Ibid.

[38] Ibid., p. 533.

[39] This would satisfy the criteria established by Frappier in “Compte rendu de Chrétien, Troyes, and the Grail.”  Romance Philology 16 (1962-1963), though it seems entirely plausible that a medieval author might have included passages in his text that appear obscure only because they require interpretation.  See our discussion of allegory.

[40] Cf. U.T. Holmes and M. Amelia Klenke.  Chrétien, Troyes, and the Grail.  Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1959.

[41] Frappier, Chrétien de Troyes et le Mythe du Graal, p. 213.

[42] Alina Clej.  “La Parole et le Royaume: une Variation Romanesque Sur Un Thème Evangélique Dans Li Contes del Graal de Chrétien de Troyes.”  Romanic Review  LXXVII.3 (May 1987), p. 272.

[43] The evidence bolstering this claim is that Philippe d’Alsace was an unusually religious prince with an interest in pegagogy.  See ibid., pp. 272-273.

[44] Ibid., p. 274

[45] See ibid. pp. 272 and 273.  Clej states that: “S’il y a une signification allégorique dans le roman, elle s’y trouve, pour ainsi dire, comme un ‘contre-sens’, et en dépit du penchant ‘romanesque’ de l’écrivain.”  She adds, “il serait difficile de méconnaître l’intention édifiante de l’ouvrage ; cependant, c’est l’intérêt romantique qui semble l’emporter.”

[46] Holes and Klenke, op. cit., and Holmes, U.T.  Chrétien de Troyes.  New York : Twayne Publishers Inc., 1970.

[47] Holmes and Klenke, p. 91.

[48] One finds such comments, for example, as “Is it not the function of a prologue to attract attention and gain sympathy for what is to follow?  And does not every prologue worthy of the name bear a close connection with that with that which it seeks to introduce?” (p. 91) and “Does it make sense, then, to suppose that Chrétien wrote such a prologue to introduce an Arthurian romance, made up of numerous meaningless and loosely connected incidents, intended to be interpreted on only a literal level?  Or is it more reasonable to suppose that such a prologue was destined to introduce an allegorical tale with a serious moral, filled with the popular liturgical symbolism of the day and calculated thereby to please Philip of Flanders…?” (p. 92).

[49] Holmes and Klenke, p. 94.

[50] Ibid.

[51] Holmes, pp. 160-161.