the sound of silence: the relationship between gender oppression, performance and language in...

ALLISON MICHELLE MORRIS

The Sound of Silence The Relationship between Gender Oppression, Performance

and Language in Heldris de Cornuälle’s Romance de Silence

This essay was originally submitted for a Medieval Romance class (Fall 2008). This piece won first prize for the Mills College Women’s Studies Department Writing Contest (Spring 2009).

The Sound of Silence; A.M. Morris | 2

THE SOUND OF SILENCE:

The Relationship between Gender Oppression, Performance and Language

in Heldris de Cornuälle’s Romance de Silence

In the 13th century French epic Romance de Silence, attributed to Heldris de Cornuälle,

the 6,076 lines details the story of Silence, a young woman, who, because of circumstances within

the kingdom, essentially becomes a man at the insistence of her own parents. As a man, Silence

succeeds in everything she does and eventually comes into the King’s favor. However, with

social pressures fighting against her, Silence is set up by King Ebain’s jealous wife, Queen

Eupheme, to retrieve Merlin, who eventually unmasks Silence’s natural identity. In the most

humiliating and degrading scene in the poem, the climax of Silence’s deception, she is stripped,

bare, naked, in the middle of King Ebain’s court, and revealed as anatomically female. However,

in an ironic twist Queen Eupheme could not have predicted, the “wicked queen” is beheaded,

whereas Silence is whisked away and put into a dress, and marries the King in order to become a

“good woman” (6685). On the surface, one might think that the story ends well for hero

Silence, for she could have just as easily been killed like Eupheme for her deceit, but Silence’s

adventures are far more complicated than Cornuälle’s fairytale may suggest.


Throughout the course of the poem, Silence is little more than a puppet, forced to prove

her masculine self while contending with the limitations Nature, Nurture and society have placed

on her. Cornuälle also complicates matters by constantly using language that skews the image

of Silence’s gender and sexuality, while simultaneously praising men for their strength and valor

and condemning women as being naturally unrighteous and deceitful. Between all the hoops

that Silence faithfully, yet desperately, tries to jump through and sacrifices she makes, all that is

left is an un-gendered mess who most dependably lives up to her name: Silence. In her quest to

perform the best she can in any role, whether the role is as Silentia or Silentius, she will always

truly be “Silence” because of the constricting factors placed upon her by the language, characters,

and social expectations of the author’s time. Ultimately, the consequence of Silence’s ambiguous

fate and constant performance is that she can never fully claim her identity as male or female;

the woman who works so heroically and diligently can never have the liberty to assume and

claim a gender of her own, because, as anatomically female, she has no voice.

Perhaps the most subtle way Silence is oppressed is through the structure and language

of the poem itself. Cornuälle uses the literary devices of acceleration, deceleration and frequency

to draw attention to the action and gloss over unnecessary details and broad ideas; however, in

the case of the hero Silence, Cornuälle reverses these tactics. Instead of decelerating the action


scenes involving Silence, the author generally accelerates the action and in this way, Silence is

both “powerful and powerless” (Ryder, 22). This unusual use of acceleration and declaration

subconsciously questions Silence’s agency and makes her “heroic” actions seem insignificant. For

example, Silence is a celebrated minstrel, however the first three years of her musical career is

compressed into a single stanza:

he learned to play instruments so well,

he put such effort into it,

that before the end of the third year

he had completely surpassed his masters,

and earned a great deal of money for them. (3139-3143)

Furthermore, in the few scenes in which Silence is highly agentive the pace of the poem is

exceptionally fast and the scenes themselves do not last long.

The slowest pace for an event in which Silence takes an important agentive role occurs

when Silence fights with the Count of Chester during the rebellion, 5584–5633. Yet even

this key event occupies only 50 lines. On the other hand, [Queen Eupheme]’s first

attempted seduction of Silence, 3743–3895, in which Silence plays an honorable but

hardly powerful role, is given three times as much text (153 lines). (Ryder, 25)


Because of this imbalance of action appropriation to characters, the reader is more so exposed to

a Silence “who is acted upon by others than a Silence who initiates action himself… The

Romance de Silence incorporates language that consistently diminishes the audience’s perception

of Silence’s power only fifteen percent of the references to Silence as an actor or agent are

actually highly agentive” (Ryder, 25, 36). Not only is Cornuälle diminishing Silence’s actions,

but her impact as well.

Another literary device Cornuälle utilizes in Romance de Silence is frequency, but

similarly to acceleration and deceleration, this device is not used to benefit Silence, or the image

conveyed to the reader.

[Silence’s] most agentive deeds, those during the rebellion, though referred to afterwards

thirteen times, are not mentioned even once before the battle takes place. [Silence’s]

most frequently repeated actions (seventy-three times) are those involving [her] capture

of Merlin, including [her] preparations for the trip, Merlin’s entrapment, and their trip

back to court. None of these actions evidence a high level of agency since Silence is

forced to set out on the trip, instructed how to trap Merlin (and provided with supplies),

and never challenged by Merlin on the trip back. Thus, in contrast with other characters

in the text, Silence’s most often primed undertaking, [her] capture of Merlin, is one of


[her] least agentive as it unfolds in the text, while references to [her] most powerful

actions are seldom repeated. (Ryder, 27)

Although she is touted as being a very successful man, this use of frequency – or lack there of –

again skews the reader’s perception of Silence and her abilities. In addition, when Silence’s

important actions are mentioned, they are described in the most generic of terms, which

subconsciously denies Silence “extensive participation in those activities by refusing to allow the

reader/audience to see [her] engaged in them” (Ryder, 29).

At the most generous interpretation, of all the references to Silence’s actual actions in the

text (347), barely more than a quarter (ninety-three) refer to actions that Silence both

wants to do and does without being ordered to do. (Ryder, 30)

Cornuälle’s bare-bones use of deceleration and frequency to describe Silence’s activities

prejudices “the reader against viewing Silence as a powerful figure. At the same time, the text

makes extensive use of acceleration to decrease the impact of events in which Silence is agentive”

(Ryder, 27).

Cornuälle also seals Silence’s ambiguous fate through the limitations and paradoxical

nature of her name; it can hardly be coincidence that the root word for Silence’s name, silence,

has a masculine connotation in the French language, while the individual is actually anatomically


female. The contradiction of Silence’s name extends into the “paradox” of her identity, and the

difficulties she will face while crossing these gender borders. When Cador first names his

daughter, it is obvious that there is intentional reasoning for the root name “Silence:”

“We shall call her Silence,

after Saint Patience,

for Silence relieves anxiety.

May Jesus Christ through his power

keep her hidden and silent for us,

according to his pleasure!” (2067-2072)

Not only does Cador name his daughter “Silence” in order to assuage his own anxieties that his

daughter may not receive her inheritance because she is female, but also to seal her into

metaphorical and physical silence against their treachery of lying and denying Nature her

“masterpiece.”

The child's name will be a continual reminder of the secret that she must keep at all

costs, a secret that is designed to relieve the anxiety of her parents about this deception,

even as the child herself relieves their anxiety about having an heir. (Terrell, 39)


Cador completely disregards the emotional and psychological effect this “sex change” may have

on his daughter, an indication of the prevailing male ideologies of the time. When discussing

what will happen if Silence can become a woman again, Cador “speaks as if changing the gender

of a person were as simple a matter;” all that needs to be done is to change the suffix of Silence’s

name (Terrell):

“I can't think of a better plan.

He will be called Silentius.

And if by any chance

his real nature is discovered,

we shall change this -us to -a,

and she'll be called Silentia.” (2073-78)

Cador does not think that his actions will have any lasting consequences for anyone involved, yet

the threat of the root word “silence” is still meant to seal Silence away from her true identity.

These consequences, however, caused by the change in the gender of Silence's name, still

necessitates an equal alteration in that it will eventually pervade every aspect of Silence’s life

(Terrell). “As [Silence] transforms from female to male and back again, the consequences are


largely determined by gendered codes of speech and silence, which are a large part of what

separates the male and female worlds in the poem.” (Terrell, 40)

Raised as a boy, Silence has the opportunity to experience the natural outspokenness of

male privilege, but does not fully recognize this privilege because she must deny her female

identity.

In this sense, Cador is right: the name Silence is appropriate for her either as a boy or a

girl, because either way she will be forced to conceal a vital part of herself. As a boy, she

must conceal her body and live without expressing her sexuality; as a girl, she must

relinquish her voice and live without expressing her thoughts. This paradoxical social

role is appropriately reflected in the paradox of her name: to speak the name Silence is to

violate its meaning. (Terrell, 41)

In addition, just as Cador predicted if Silence was indeed discovered as female, the English court

symbolically re-baptizes Silence according to her anatomical sex:

They dressed Silence as a woman.

…………………………………………

Once he was called Silentius:

they removed the –us, added an –a,

and so he was called Silentia. (6664-6668)


Changing Silence’s name may have been easy, but transforming a young man into a woman

cannot nearly be so flippant. Silence, in the wake of the thoughtlessness of her name, is still

metaphorically, and will always be physically, silenced and limited by the cultural restrictions of

womanhood.

In light of the ambiguous nature of her identity, and how easily she can be “altered,”

Silence experiences an identity crisis. Even before her discovery, Silence voices her inner turmoil

over the deception of her name and gender:

“Was any other female ever so tormented

or deceived by such vile fraud

as to do what I did out of greed?

I certainly never heard of one!” (2583-2586)

Silence also laments that she is not suited for womanhood and is “deeply disturbed” (2497) when

she learns about the deception her parents arranged. While she contemplates whether she

should follow “nature’s” path, she asserts who she is (“I am a young man, not a girl” (2650)) and

emphasizes the importance of the masculine form of her name: “I am Silentius […] or I am no

one” (2537-2538). She eventually realizes that a “man’s life is much better than that of a

woman” (2637-2638): “I don’t want to loose my high position; / I don’t want to exchange it for a


lesser” (2650-2652) and decides to continue the ruse and, up until her discovery, performs as a

man. However, when her identity is revealed before the court, she automatically begins

performing as the ideal woman: obedient and honest.

“Truth does not permit me,

to keep anything from you,

nor do I care to keep silent any longer.

Do with me what you will.” (6625-6628)

While the act of publicly revealing Silence in such a manner would undoubtedly be humiliating

and frightening, in a sense Silence no longer has to keep the bonds her parents tied her to and is

able to express her sex. It is important, however, to note how ironic her speech about silence is

here, because after this point, Silence “transforms” into Silentia and becomes virtually silent for

the rest of the poem, and the audience is no longer privy to her innermost thoughts and feelings

(Ryder, Terrell).

Ultimately, the limitations of the language and the epic’s content lends way to the many

contradictions within the story. The most evident contradiction within the poem is that between

Silence’s apparent masculinity and femininity.

Many a knight unhorsed by Silence,


if he knew the truth

at the time she knocked him down,

would have been terribly ashamed

that a tender, soft, faint-hearted woman,

who had only the complexion,

clothing and bearing of a man,

could have stuck him down with her lance. (5157-5164)

This passage, which attempts to address Silence’s masculinity and femininity, contradict one

another by describing the event of jousting, which Silence is undeniably very good at, with her

impractical feminine whiles. The reader is left to question how a “tender, soft, faint-hearted

woman” could unhorse even the mightiest of knights and doubt Silence’s abilities. Mary Ellen

Ryder and Linda Marie Zaerr argue in their article, A Stylistic Analysis of Le Roman de Silence,

that the contradictions of the poem itself make Silence, while the reader may be wary of her

abilities, a more compelling character:

Since a manuscript is silent and a performance is noisy, the character of Silence at the

heart of the tale is by its very nature conflicted. Silence, who is a woman, becomes a

man; then Silence, which can make no sound, becomes a minstrel. These contradictions


consistently clash in the audience’s perception of Silence’s power, his ability to act in

male dominated and performance dominated contexts. (Ryder, 24)

Another contradiction is Silence herself, in comparison to the other dominant female characters

in the epic, her mother Euphemie and Queen Eupheme. Throughout the poem, women are

praised for their silence and rebuked for their outspokenness, a commonly male trait. While

Silence in sense follows both of these two avenues, Euphemie is generally silent (the good

woman) and Queen Eupheme is more outspoken (the wicked woman). Best put by King Ebain:

“There is no more precious gem, / nor greater treasure, than a virtuous woman,” and Euphemie

fits into that category of “virtuous woman.” Even when she first questions Cador about the

scheme to lie about their daughter’s gender, he tells her:

“Since, my sweet, our flesh is one,

let our will be one as well.

since our blood is one,

let us be of one mind.”

The lady replied to him, “Sweet lord,

Nothing that your heart desires

will I refuse you.” (1721-1727)


Although Euphemie had once been a well-respected physician, since her marriage to Cador, she

follows everything he tells her to do, even if that means causing emotional and psychological

damage to their daughter and putting her in compromising situations that could have ended her

life. Euphemie’s desire to be a doting wife and “good woman” supersedes her motherly instincts.

In the case of Queen Eupheme, she is considered a treacherous and wicked woman, who accuses

Silence of raping her and conspires to have her killed. She orchestrates the plot to bring Merlin

to King Ebain’s court to humiliate Silence, but in an entirely different sense. As a result of her

scheming, however, she is put to death:

The king despised Eufeme.

he had no wish to spare her,

nor did anyone ask him to.

In accordance with royal decree,

………………………………………

the queen was drawn and quartered.

Thus was the king’s justice accomplished.

The queen was caught in the trap

she had set for Silence.

……………………………


No one was sorry for Eufeme (6651-6654, 6656-6659, 6663)

Silence, otherwise, is an anomaly to these two ideas about women because she is a loyal and

“virtuous woman,” like Euphemie, but she is also treacherous as she lies about her identity, like

Queen Eupheme. Ultimately, what saves Silence from a fate like Queen Eupheme’s is that she is

a performer, and her previous performance as a successful man, coupled with her apparent

successful performance as an obedient and “virtuous woman,” keeps her from the gallows.

With her lack of agency, Silence’s only form of self-preservation is to perform in the roles

that will keep her out of harm’s way. As a child, she was made to perform as a boy to assuage

the anxieties of her parents in regards to her inheritance. Silence continued to perform as a man

because she recognized the benefits of remaining male, until she was discovered:

his secret thoughts and desires were tormenting him

“What a fool I was,” he said, “why did I bring

Merlin here? What a catastrophe!

I’ve acted like the sergeant

who goes himself to fetch the club

with which he will be beaten” (6439-6445)


With proof of Silence’s own inner thoughts, realizing that she is in danger, she must quickly

think of how to behave and perform from here on as a woman. Now “stuck” being female,

Silence soon becomes the best woman she can be – evidenced by her lack of speech until end of

the poem. The reader never knows how Silence feels again, but it can be implied through

Silence’s previous statements about womanhood that she is less than thrilled to loose her power

and to move into a “lesser position,” but that she will be dedicated to being a good woman in

order to protect herself in the only way she knows how.

The physical limitations placed on her by Nature prevent Silence from fully becoming

male, but her behavioral limitations placed on her by Nurture also prevent her from fully

becoming female, but she will perform in either role. Combined with Cornuälle’s literary

devices that diminish Silence’s agency and question her abilities, Silence’s story is not

conventionally different from the other Arthurian romances of Romance de Silence’s time.

Ultimately, a “woman’s role is to remain silent” (6398), and Silence will continue to perform that

role with as much enthusiasm as she would as a knight or minstrel, even if that means loosing

the freedoms and liberties she had gained as a man. Silence is silenced in every sense of the

word: physically, mentally, emotionally and sexually.


Works Cited

Callahan, Christopher. "Canon Law, Primogeniture, and the Marriage of Ebain and Silence." Romance

Quarterly 49 (2002): 12-21. ProQuest. F.W. Olin Library, Mills College, Oakland. 14 Nov. 2008

<http://proquest.umi.com/pqdweb?did=110012257&sid=1&fmt=3&clientid=13005&rqt=309&vna

me=pqd>.

Groff, Philip, and Laura McRae. "Annual American Psychological Association Meeting." American

Psychological Association, The Nature-Nurture Debate in Thirteenth-Century France, Aug. 1998,

Chicago, Illinois. American Psychological Association. 21 Nov. 2008

<http://htpprints.yorku.ca/archive/00000014/00/silence.htm>.

Roche-Mahdi, Sarah, trans. Silence : A Thirteenth-Century French Romance. New York: Michigan State

UP, 1997. Print.

Ryder, Mary Ellen, and Linda Marie Zaerr. "A Stylistic Analysis of Le Roman de Silence." Arthuriana 18

(2008): 22-40. The Johns Hopkins University Press. Project MUSE. F.W. Olin Library, Oakland.

21 Nov. 2008. Keyword: Roman de Silence, Gender.


Terrell, Katherine H. "Competing Gender Ideologies and the Limitations of Language in Le Roman de

Silence." Romance Quarterly 55.1 (2008): 35-49. ProQuest. F.W. Olin Library, Mills College,

Oakland. 15 Nov. 2008

<http://proquest.umi.com/pqdweb?did=1443841171&sid=1&fmt=3&clientid=13005&rqt=309&vna

me=pqd>.

the sound of silence: the relationship between gender oppression, performance and language in...

Documents