Reason and Love in “The Knight of the Cart”

This is the final essay I wrote for my graduate program in Mythological Studies. I had finished all my course work and the comprehensive exams but had one last class I had missed taking during my first year. So I took The Arthurian Romances of the Holy Grail course as an independent study. It was strange not having lectures to attend, but I had a great prof to work with. However, honestly, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the course. I didn’t really know anything about the Arthur and his knights outside of Disney’s Sword and the Stone. Wow was I in for a surprise! What rich, wonderful, exciting literature I encountered! So, below is my essay about my now beloved Lancelot and his tale by Chrétien de Troyes. Enjoy!

lancelot-crossing-the-sword-bridge

Reason and Love in “The Knight of the Cart”

The love, romance, and adventure depicted in the Arthurian romances have captivated readers for centuries and remain a powerful force in the literary world. Chrétien de Troyes, noted as a “remarkably influential author” (Lacy and Grimbert xi), is one of the most celebrated writers from the twelfth century, renowned for being the first author to pen the affair of Lancelot and Guinevere. Though he is a key figure of Arthurian studies, relatively little is known about him, and there is much speculation about why he did not personally complete one of his most popular stories, “The Knight of the Cart” (hereafter referred to as Lancelot, the title most commonly used in the related scholarship). As varied as the speculation about Chrétien himself is the diverse interpretations of his tale of courtly love and romance. These details in conjunction with the mythological and psychological elements in Lancelot – including but not limited to love, death, the underworld, and the union of opposites – place it as an incredibly rich text worthy of analysis. In one of the finest collections on Chrétien, A Companion to Chrétien de Troyes, the editors note that “[e]ven Chrétien specialists surely find the volume of critical studies on Chrétien daunting, and students, however diligent, will find it virtually impossible to select the most useful scholarship and to read and master even a small volume” (Lacy and Gimbert xi). This task, like Lancelot’s adventures, has been both challenging and rewarding, and while there can be no definitive analysis of Lancelot, the exploration herein will address the romance as a reflection of its times, an examination of courtly love, and a truly mythic adventure into the depths of the underworld, where both love and death await.

One unchallenged fact about Lancelot is that Chrétien wrote it under the service of Marie de Champagne. Known for her appreciation and encouragement of literature, Marie was also an influential figure in Andreas Capellanus’s The Art of Courtly Love. It is unknown exactly when each piece was written, but best estimations place Chrétien’s writing of Lancelot anytime between the 1160s and the 1180s (Lacy and Grimbert xii), and while The Art of Courtly Love was probably written later, it “was almost certainly intended to portray conditions at Queen Eleanor’s court at Poitiers between 1170 and 1174” (21). Regardless of exact dates, each text demonstrates the notion of courtly love prevalent at the end of the twelfth century, a time when “a new art of love, fin ‘amor (true love) . . . which glorified amorous passion” was emerging (Harf-Lancer 29). The unique and defining characteristic of courtly love, however, is that it is “extramarital,” as defined by Ovid, whom Parry attributes as the originator of courtly love (Capellanus 5). So how is it that Chrétien, “viewed as the poet of love in marriage” (Bruckner 141), was the first to bring the affair of Lancelot and Guinevere to life?

Debate in Chrétien scholarship explores why he discontinued his work on Lancelot, though it is a curious fact that Marie even selected Chrétien as the writer of this tale. It is accepted in scholarship that the affair between Lancelot and Guinevere is “against [Chrétien’s] own moral convictions” (McCash 22). Was his patron Marie aware of his personal beliefs when she told him the legend? Did she simply disregard his views, or did he hide them? Or, perhaps, was he not even as opposed to courtly love as scholars now believe? Of course, answers to these questions will never be known, but the speculation creates a stimulating setting for the creation of a story that embodies courtly love – which itself encourages debate in its own right about love and honor. As Bruckner asserts, Chrétien himself “offers not answers but questions” in Lancelot (155).

That Chrétien himself did not pen the ending of Lancelot is clear although the reasons remain unknown. Parry states Chrétien left the work unfinished because of his dislike of the subject (Capellanus 13), but Lacy and Gimbert review other speculations about why Chrétien stopped writing the tale (22). Since the order in which he wrote his romances is unknown, it is possible that his own illness simply prevented him from writing anymore (22). Others speculate that Lancelot was nearly completed when Marie’s own husband died and that Chrétien discontinued writing it because she feared if the work were to be printed in her widowhood that many would suspect she had been unfaithful to her husband (22). Despite speculation about Marie, Chrétien, and his intentions or feelings in writing about this theme, the value of courtly love in the character of Lancelot himself never wavers.

In Lancelot, the leading knight is defined as one of “great goodness” (Chrétien 234) who is “brave” (243) and completes the “boldest deed” (when crossing the Sword bridge) (247). During his adventures to rescue Guinevere, Lancelot stays at one household wherein all of its members agree upon this description of him: “if all the world’s knights were assembled in a single place, you’d not see a fairer or nobler one” (240). As Chrétien’s narration continues in this section, he describes Lancelot as “fair” and “good,” and directly speaks to the readers: “I trust you will believe my description of all this” (240). Chrétien’s limited use of the first person voice throughout the text is clearly his own voice and not that of a fictional narrator. This is set up in the very introduction when he attributes details of the story to Marie de Champagne (207). When Chretien describes Lancelot in passages like this with such praise, it is difficult to believe that Chrétien himself was so strongly opposed to courtly love.

Regardless of the virtues Lancelot is ascribed throughout Chrétien’s text and by many scholars, the fact remains that he is an adulterer – a term which Bruckner points out is never used in the text itself (154). Bruckner concludes that “Lancelot does not [recommend or disapprove] of courtly love, rather it aims at a wider ethical problem, the contradictions of human experience explored within a secular and courtly ideal” (154-155). This is a further reflection of the period Chrétien was writing in – a time when there was a disconnect between “individual consent and parental choice in contracting marriage” (Kelly 59). Because marriage was typically arranged and amor was just developing, courtly love explored “a doctrine of paradoxes, a love at once illicit and morally elevating, passionate and disciplined, humiliating and exalting, human and transcendent” (F.X. Newman qtd. in Lupack 84). This description immediately reflects a paradoxical theme present throughout Chretien’s work.

Pairs of opposites are prevalent throughout Lancelot, which is first depicted in the very title “The Knight and the Cart,” for one would not typically find a knight willing to ride in a cart! The cart encompasses the opposite of everything Lancelot represents as a strong and noble knight. Chrétien clearly describes the shame of the cart throughout the text, and indeed Lancelot himself even briefly hesitates to ride in the cart (which is the catalyst for later heartache and confusion with Guinevere), but the power of the shame of riding in a cart is perhaps most poignantly demonstrated in the following instance: Lancelot defeats an opponent and when the man begs for his mercy, Lancelot tells him he may live if he is willing to ride in a cart (Chrétien 241). The opponent refuses to do so, choosing death over the shame. This scene emphasizes at once the great disgrace of the cart and the power of Lancelot’s love. Despite his initial hesitation, Lancelot unabashedly accepts the stigma that the ride in the cart assigns him, driven deeply by love for his Queen.

Furthermore, not only is Lancelot’s story titled “The Knight of the Cart,” but that is how Chrétien identifies him until the moment Queen Guinevere reveals his name nearly half way through the text (252). Up to this point, Lancelot has refused to give his name to those he has met during his adventure, even those who offer him assistance. This evokes the mythological motif of true names having power over the individual. In some myths, one’s true name is a guarded secret. The concealment of Lancelot’s name is akin to the secretiveness of his love for Guinevere, and for her to be the first to name him to the readers is further representation of her role as the one who truly knows and loves him.

Chrétien’s use of the humiliating cart as a symbol of his brave knight functions like the “oxymoron” as it was used in “Oriental religious texts . . . to point past those pairs of opposites by which all logical thought is limited . . . beyond ‘names and forms’” (Campbell, Masks 188). As Campbell further indicates in The Power of Myth, “every act in life yields pairs of opposites in its results.” Therefore it is fitting that courtly love (the primary force behind Lancelot’s quest) embraces opposites (as identified above by Newman). These opposites are not something to be resolved but something that is symptomatic of the threads of life and our perception. Courtly love is all at once a deep sign of devotion and “hersey . . . punishable by death” (Campbell, Power). This punishment of courtly love further connects love to its “twin,” identified by Smith as death (176). The cart itself also has “mythic overtones . . . linked to death” (Bruckner 140). In this romance, threats of death abound.

Death is an essential theme in Lancelot because his adventure includes a journey into the underworld. As Smith clearly identifies, “the unconscious [is] represented in this tale by the underworld into which Guinevere is abducted, and into which Lancelot descends in order to retrieve her” (Smith 49). Indeed, Lancelot’s descent from Arthur’s court and his return in the end encompass the Nekyia, the underworld motif that is also representative of the unconscious. Since any descent to the underworld and/or the unconscious is representative of death, it is necessary for Lancelot to face death. Two particular events on his journey highlight that he has entered the realm of the underworld.

Early in Lancelot’s adventure, when he is on his path to find Guinevere, there is a moment where he takes his horse to drink from the water and is so distracted by his thoughts of love that he does not hear the guardian that forbids his entrance into the ford. Breaking this barrier signifies not only the adventure of the hero and the crossing of a threshold a la Joseph Campbell’s hero journey motif, but it also illuminates Lancelot’s psychological state. To begin with, he is so consumed by love that he is completely unaware of his surroundings. Such obsession and preoccupation are very characteristic of courtly love, and these moments are essential for a text dealing with this theme. As Capellanus outlines in the rules of love, “A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thoughts of his beloved” (186). When Lancelot finally hears the guard, he jumps “to his feet like a dreamer from sleep” (Chrétien 217), a description that further conjures images of the unconscious realm of the underworld.

It is also significant that Lancelot does not hear the guard until he shouts for a third time, a number that repeats throughout the text and bears mythological significance as it represents both the “intellectual and spiritual order” and is related to the three stages of being – birth, life, and death (“Three”). I briefly want to identify other important times when Chretien specifically writes the number three, bringing this specific grouping to his readers’ attention: when the dwarf, Gawain and Lancelot arrive in the cart (212); when the three girls cry at the funeral procession Lancelot and Gawain see out the window (214); in a meadow when three knights point out Lancelot as the knight of the cart (228); when Lancelot is accompanied by two riders (235); the “ointment of the three mary’s” (249); and when Gawain orders three men to bring him his armor when he plans to battle Malegnant in Lancelot’s place (290). The significance of each cannot be discussed in the scope of this paper but is worthy of future study.

Water is another important element introduced in the scene with the guard of the ford. Here, Lancelot is crossing a threshold of water, which “[u]sually we interpret . . . as the unconscious” (von Franz 101). The symbol of water is also utilized in one of the key trials of his journey – crossing the sword bridge – which exemplifies both his presence in the underworld and his dedication to Guinevere (“I would rather die than turn back” [Chrétien 245]). Water itself holds the tension of opposites as it can be “either the great healing factor, or poisonous and destructive . . . according to the context” (von Franz 101). In its destructive state, water can drown people “in the unconscious” (101). At hen Chrétien identifies that Lancelot “would rather maim himself than fall from the bridge into the water from which there was no escape” (Chrétien 245), we know the stakes are high and that this water is clearly destructive. Lancelot is risking death at every level.

This epic moment with the sword bridge is so popular and important in literature that Chevalier and Gheerbrant specifically cite the incident in the symbolic definition of “bridge,” declaring that it “symbolizes the passing from one state of being to a higher state”  (“Bridge”). This transformation (yet another element of the underworld journey) is the ultimate test of his devotion of courtly love and, despite its associated shame, solidifies his position as the most honorable knight. Bridges, which are commonly recognized as a representation of a “trial,” can also “symbolize the transition between . . . two conflicting sets of desires” (“Bridge”). We constantly see Lancelot’s battle between Honor and Love, as is first exemplified in his hesitation to step into the cart. He is both knight and lover. While Kelly argues that Lancelot is “lover before he is knight” (59), Lupack asserts that “Lancelot as lover is inseparable from Lancelot as knight in service to king and country” (90). It is certainly a fine line to distinguish in this noble knight: surely he would complete this task for the love of his king (as Gawain himself encounters a similar trial at the underwater bridge in his attempt to retrieve Guinevere for the King), but we know he completes it because love compels him to do so. As Ovid’s description of courtly love indicates, the lover will “perform all sorts of absurd actions” (Capellanus 6).

Another threat looming over Lancelot as he crosses the sword bridge are the two lions that await him on the other side. Though they are ultimately mere illusions, Lancelot chooses to cross the bridge while believing they are material foes. The threat of death could not be more prevalent here as an unarmed Lancelot crosses the sword bridge, hovering over waters of a deep abyss, anticipating to be greeted by two ferocious beasts. That Chrétien chose this animal and not any other is significant as well. To begin with, the lions are a reflection of Lancelot himself because “the lion is burdened with . . . virtues and defects [that] are inherent in its status[:] he may be as admirable as he is insupportable, and facets of his symbolism waver between these two extremes” (“Lion”). Like Lancelot, the fearless knight of the cart, the symbol of the lion encompasses opposites. Furthermore, both Christ and the Buddha have been identified with the symbol of the lion (“Lion”). Themes from both Christianity (as detailed by Smith in Sacred Mysteries) and Buddhism (as detailed by Zimmer in The King and the Corpse) are prevalent in Lancelot. This can most readily be identified in Chrétien’s recurring use of the number three, which has significance in both Christianity and Buddhism. The lion itself also has a relationship with the number three in Buddhism: “The arms of Ashoka [a Buddhist king] comprised three lions seated back to back on a pedestal [and may represent] the teachings of the Buddha [Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha] (“Lion”). (Smith also expands on the relationship between Lancelot and “the three temptations of the Buddha” [49]).That Lancelot sees two lions is indicative of the theme of duality that is thread throughout the text. Furthermore, in Ancient Egypt, “lions were often depicted in pairs” and represent the opposites “birth and death . . . yesterday and tomorrow . . . exertion and rest” (“Lion”). Lancelot’s trial over the sword bridge clearly symbolizes his trial in the underworld while touching on the other key themes in the book: courtly love, death, and their duality.

After succeeding in this great feat at the sword bridge, Lancelot faces the man who is holding Guinevere, Meleagant, “son of the king of Gorre” (Chrétien 215). As Kibler’s footnote indicates, Gorre may be a reference to the Celtic underworld (512). On every level, Chrétien has made Lancelot’s position in the underworld clear. The immediate description of Meleagant then shows us that Lancelot has met his shadow figure. The prince is described as “treasonous and disloyal” with a “wooden heart . . . utterly void of kindness and compassion” (Chrétien 246). The shadow figure is also indicative of the unconscious realm of the underworld, and we see in Meleagant everything that Lancelot is not. Meleagant ultimately becomes the one that holds Lancelot captive in the underworld, and he is the figure that Lancelot defeats at Arthur’s court after his escape, touching on another important element the hero motif: “the hero . . . discovers and assimilates his opposite” (Campbell, Hero 108).

An even more important element of the hero motif that Lancelot attains is the meeting with the goddess, also identified as the sacred marriage. Though sex is not Lancelot’s goal in his love for Guinevere, the consummation of their relationship is the purest celebration of it. As highlighted in the great lyrics of the troubadours, who sang of courtly love in the twelfth century, the “aim [of courtly love] was neither marriage nor the dissolution of the world. Nor was it even carnal intercourse . . . The aim, rather, was life directly in the experience of love” (Campbell, Masks 178). This experience of love is most prevalent when Lancelot and Guinevere make love after he breaks through the barriers on the window to enter her chamber. This union, which calls to mind the alchemical coniunctio, also serves as further representation of “the bringing together of the opposites” (von Franz 164). Though their act is adulterous, it could not be more pure. Chrétien describes Guinevere’s anticipation of her tryst with Lancelot: “The queen was most eager for the arrival of her joy, her lover” (Chrétien 261). According to Baumgartner, “Chrétien’s entire work was organized . . . around the quest for ‘joy.’ To affirm and construct oneself as a hero in this universe, ideal yet full of risk” (226). He is a hero in his quest to save her, and he is complete in his union with her. Once the lovers unite, Chrétien explains that their “joy” was unlike that ever known before, but says he will keep the details a secret (265). Indeed, as Smith identifies, “the ineffable joy of the ‘Liebstod,’ of love in the domain of death . . . transcends the categories of reason, and . . . we must remain silent [about this] genuinely sacred mystery” (52).

Throughout the romance, Chretien has emphasized the tension of opposites that culminate in the love affair of Lancelot and Guinevere. He emphasizes the most important terms with capitalization, not uncommon in the period, and gives true characterization to the terms Reason and Love (212), Generosity and Compassion (242), Nobility and Cowardice and Sloth (246), Love and Hatred (253), Life and Death (260), Cowardice and Courage (278), and Fortune (286). His final emphasis lies on Reason, which prohibits Guinevere from demonstrating public affection for Lancelot (291). As encapsulated by these terms of opposites, whose presence and function could yield yet another project, Chretien’s Lancelot reflects the concerns of twelfth century love while also touching on the timeless mythological motifs of love and death as explored in every hero’s journey.

Works Cited

Baumgartner, Emmanuele. “Chretien’s Medieval Influence: From the Grail Quest to the Joy of the Court.” A Companion to Chrétien De Troyes. Trans. Veronique Zara. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2005. 214-27.

“Bridge.” The Penguin Dictionary of Symbols. 1996.

Bruckner, Matilda Tomaryn. “Le Chevalier De La Charrette: That Obscure Object of Desire, Lancelot.” A Companion to Chrétien De Troyes. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2005. 137-55.

Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Princeton, NJ: Princeton UP, 1972. Print.

—. The Masks of God. New York: Viking, 1968.

—. The Power of Myth Will Bill Moyers. Prod. Catherine Tatge. Apostrophe S Productions, 2001. DVD.

Capellanus, Andreas. The Art of Courtly Love. Trans. John Jay Parry. New York: Columbia UP, 1990.

Chrétien De Troyes. Arthurian Romances. Ed. William W. Kibler. London, England: Penguin, 1991.

Harf-Lancer, Laurence. “Chreiten’s Literary Background.” A Companion to Chrétien De Troyes. Trans. Amy L. Ingram. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2005. 26-42.

Kelly, Douglas. “Narrative Poetic: Rhetoric, Orality and Performance.” A Companion to Chrétien De Troyes. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2005. 52-63.

Lacy, Norris J., and Joan T. Grimbert. “Introduction.” A Companion to Chrétien De Troyes. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2005. xi-xiv.

“Lion.” The Penguin Dictionary of Symbols. 1996.

Lupack, Alan. The Oxford Guide to Arthurian Literature and Legend. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2007.

Smith, Evans Lansing. Sacred Mysteries: Myths About Couples in Quest. Nevada City: Blue Dolphin, 2003.

“Three.” The Penguin Dictionary of Symbols. 1996.

Von Franz, Marie-Louise. Alchemy: an Introduction to the Symbolism and the Psychology. Toronto: Inner City, 1980. Print.

Zimmer, Heinrich Robert. The King and the Corpse: Tales of the Soul’s Conquest of Evil. Ed. Joseph Campbell. New York: Pantheon, 1975.

Works Consulted

Campbell, Joseph. The Arthurian Tradition, Lecture I.6.3. Joseph Campbell Foundation Publications, 2012. MP3.

—. The Grail Legend, Lecture I.6.4. Joseph Campbell Foundation Publications, 2012. MP3.

Ford, Boris, ed. Medieval Literature: The European Inheritance. London: Penguin, 1990.

Jacobi, Jolande. Complex/archetype/symbol in the Psychology of C.G. Jung. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1959.

“The Knights of Camelot.” History’s Mysteries. Weyand, Daiman, dir. The History Channel. 2006. Netflix. Web.

Lacy, Norris J., ed. The Lancelot-Grail Reader: Selections from the Medieval French ArthurianCycle. New York: Garland Pub., 2000. Print.

McCash, June Hall. “Chretien’s Patrons.” A Companion to Chrétien De Troyes. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2005. 15-25.

Weston, Jessie Laidlay. From Ritual to Romance. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1957.

Graduation

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Eep! Graduation is only 10 days away! Such an exciting time!

The other day as my hubby and I were reminiscing, he pointed out that I have been a graduate student as long as we’ve been together. Wow. Yeah, for the better part of the last decade, I’ve been a grad student. I took 1 year off between MA programs, a time which was greatly dedicated to applying to more grad programs. And then I had a near-2-year leave-of-absence (in which I read many of the recommended books for my program and visited campus every quarter, so I never really felt like I “left”)…

Looking back, my first MA program (in English) seems fairly easy. I had the privilege then of being a full time student without working. What a blessing! This second MA was much more challenging. I entered the program after 1 year of teaching and a mere 5 months after getting married. Working full-time in academia and being a grad student full-time is… heavy, to say the least. 54 months have passed from the quarter I started my Mythological Studies program until this last quarter when I finished my final course… It’s nearly the length of my marriage. In that time I’ve also purchased my first house. And I’ve seen my niece be born into this world (hard to believe she’ll be 4 tomorrow).

I’ve worn many hats, and I’m realizing that “grad student” has been a defining trait of me since 2004. It’s going to be so strange to leave it behind.

I’ve come across the quote from the above image a couple times this month. I wasn’t looking for it. It just entered my path (some serendipity courtesy of Facebook and Etsy). It really resonates with me. Although I work in academia and have been entrenched in it for most of my adult life, I have never considered myself to be a super smart or even an especially gifted student. I’m just really, really motivated. Once I set my eyes on a goal, I just go for it. I know I can do whatever I set out to do. This is something my parents imbued me with. I’ll have to ask them what their secret was because I want my future children to have the same perspective. Perseverance, dedication, and commitment – that’s the key to achieving whatever you choose for yourself in life.

So what comes next for me? Well, I’ll continue wading through the world of academia, in search for a secure, full-time teaching position (which I’m beginning to think is some type of mythical holy grail that only a select few received ages ago). I’ll get to spend more time with family and friends now that homework is officially off my plate. But, mostly, right now? I think it’s time to go find myself.

Willow: Wonderland

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Spoilers below for the Buffyverse comics. 

Joss Whedon introduced me to the comic world with Fray, and then with Buffy, Angel After the Fall, and Angel and Faith. Oh, and the Serenity and Dollhouse comics. Basically, if Whedon writes/directs/creates something, I consume it. But not without judgment. Buffy Season 8 was, ultimately, rather disappointing. The Twilight storyline… yeah… if it hadn’t been Whedon, I wouldn’t have kept reading. Even he nearly lost me though when Buff and Angel were having acrobatic flying sex… but I stuck it out… and I’m enjoying the journey. Whedon himself has admitted he made some mistakes with Season 8, and he’s making up for it in Season 9, which I’m enjoying much more. I also enjoyed Angel After the Fall, but I’m loving Angel and Faith even more. (And I must briefly mention – of course Giles’ soul was claimed by Eyghon when he died! Brilliant development going on over there). The comics have gained their footing, and the world is expanding in great ways. And I actually think the greatest piece is the Willow miniseries I finally had the chance to read. Whedon was the exec producer, and I’d love to know how much he poured into the storyline… because everything from the Zen Caterpillar – whom we learn Lewis Carroll based his caterpillar on – to Willow’s self discovery was fucking awesome.

We’ve been watching Willow grow and struggle with magic since the early days of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She really has a chance to shine in this comic, sans Buffy and pals. On her own, we see a confident, strong witch – but she’s never stopped struggling with her Dark Willow past. The early appearance of the Zen caterpillar tells us that we’re going on a journey inwards, a mythic journey about the light and the dark (only seeming opposites; Joseph Campbell’s hero journey shows us that the hero will transcend these) and real power (it comes from within, as the Eastern traditions teach). So, of course, Marrak was Rack! I should’ve seen it coming. She had to battle one last element from her dark past – she’s already confronted her demons with Amy and Warren, so this was the last step for Strawberry to claim all parts of herself, light and dark, and give something back to the world.

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This quest has been building for Willow for years, and I’m eager to see its payoff as she returns to Buffy’s comic with the Slayer’s Scythe – which, awesome sidenote, is the frickin’ counterpart to Excalibur!!

WonderCon 2013

Last week, I had the awesome opportunity to attend all 3 days of WonderCon. I was going to write up a detailed blog-post, but in the busy-ness of life, it’s now a week after the Con, and you can find a million write-ups all over the net. You can probably even find video of most if not all of the panels. So, in this post, I’m bringing you a series of small slideshows highlighting all my favorite parts of the Con – including the much anticipated Much Ado About Nothing panel with Joss Whedon & his cast! Enjoy!

 

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All photos © MythGirl 2013

Happy Birthday, Joseph Campbell

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There is no other writer/thinker/scholar/mythologist who has had as big of an impact on me as Joseph Campbell. His notion of following bliss was introduced to me during a turning point in my life when I was an undergrad. Following my bliss led me to into two master’s programs that transformed me. The first master’s program led me into my career; the second led me into my very being. Beginning with the works of Campbell, I have discovered exciting realms of mythology, scholarship, psychology, psyche, and bliss. For more than a decade, his words have inspired me to make leaps of faith and follow unpaved paths.

Happy 109th bday, Joe!

Life After Grad School

DSCN7346I’ve spent 70% of my adult life in college. And now……… I’m done! This is kind of a strange transitional period for me though. I barely know life without school! (Though as a teacher, I guess I won’t be too far removed from it ;) ). I’ve just finished my final graduate school paper, and in May I’ll be walking for my second MA. It’s exciting, but it’s also a big life change. This particular two-year-program I was enrolled in at Pacifica took me about four years to get through with the various ups and downs of life. And though I’ve written my last five research papers over the last couple quarters, I haven’t had any regular time on campus since the end of summer… and I’m really missing that community! The experience of Pacifica is something that’s almost difficult to put into words. The courses, the materials, the instructors, and the students really are a rare breed here. Delving into mythology and psychology and exploring so many rich areas inevitably affects the psyche and the very being a person. It’s about so much more than academia. Working with this material and going through this passage of my life has molded every aspect of my being. Makes it hard to say goodbye to the program and the people (though a big YAY for social networking keeping this commuter community connected)…. of course I’ll always be able to return for other campus events and seminars… but it will be different.

So, I’ve come to realize it’s a bittersweet celebration.

I am very excited about saying goodbye to homework though! Of course, I enjoyed the coursework and loved just about everything I read, but it did consume a lot of time that I am looking forward to having back. I’m particularly excited about reading anything I feel like! Though I realize with all the grading I always have to do, I’ll never really have all the time I like to fantasize about having with all my books, which I’ve recently re-organized. The picture to the right shows all the books from I bought during my graduate program. Once I was done making working piles out of them in my office, I got to organizing them. Amazing to see it all together.

And the pic below shows all the books I’ve bought/received in just the last 14 months. Each one was selected with the thought, “I’ll read this next!” And the pile, of course, just kept growing. Still haven’t decided what I’m actually going to read first!

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In addition to reading, there’s other things in life I’m eager to dig into. There are many things I’ve been interested in learning or doing over the years, and I always tell myself, “I’ll do that when I’m done with school!” This includes learning sign-language, learning to sew, and learning how to really cook more than spaghetti and quesadillas. I also want to catch up on TV shows that started when I was in grad school that I never got a chance to check out. Fringe & Castle are on the top of that list. Other projects I want to take on include taking agility classes with my pup and tagging the last decade of digital photos.

More importantly, though, what I’m really excited about is spending more time at home with my hubby, working on our various house projects, and spending more time with all of our extended family. Since I commuted to school and was out of town once a month, there were some events I wasn’t here for. And there were many others I just couldn’t make, or really enjoy, because I was so swamped with homework and research. And, of course, the biggest step and most important thing we’re now focused on is starting a family of our own.

For now, I’m going to enjoy the liminal space I’m in and embrace whatever life has to offer next. Thanks for reading. Namaste.

© myth_girl

© myth_girl

New Girl, The Quick Hardening Caulk, and the Panic Moonwalk

I don’t remember exactly when it was that I fell in love with Zooey D., but I was pretty excited when she was slated to star in her own shown back in 2011. I got the hubby to tune in with me, and we’ve been hooked ever since. In addition to non-stop laughs, we really love that the main characters are all in their early 30s just like us. And there’s not enough great things to say about Jess, Nick, Winston, and Schmidt. (We’re kind of on the fence about you right now, Cece. No offense). Every Tuesday night we tune in and hang out with our new friends. And we’ve been shipping Nick and Jess since the beginning. I’m pretty sure the hubs was just about squeeing with me when we first got the kiss seen ’round the world last month. ;)

So last week we were pretty excited to attend the PaleyFest’s panel with New Girl! All the stars and producers were present, and we got one really special treat – next week’s new episode “Quick Hardening Caulk” was screened for us! I don’t want to build it up too much for you guys…. but there’s a chance it was the best damn ep so far this season! It was great to watch it on a big screen with hundreds of other fans. This one will really have roaring, so much so that we even missed some dialogue after the zingy punch lines because the audience was laughing so loud. What an experience. That’s all I’m going to say about the episode though because I don’t want to drop any spoilers about it!

If you wish you could have been there yourself, don’t fret – you can stream the entire panel on hulu for free!

If you want to know my favorite part of the night, you can watch this small clip that I filmed.

And, here’s a gallery of my favorite pics. We were sitting pretty far back, but thanks to my stellar new camera with awesome zoom, it’s like I was sitting at the edge of the stage!

Inception & the Underworld

Here’s a piece I realized I never posted! I wrote this paper for the Myths of the Underworld course I took last year. It was the last of the incompletes I finished in the fall. As I post this, I am currently working on my very last grad paper! More content to appear on my website soon. Thanks for sticking around!

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The underworld is a timeless element present in mythology and human thought. As seen in ancient mythologies beginning with the Descent of Inanna in 2000 B.C.E., “descent stories [reveal] the human quest for the kind of knowledge that adds to spiritual power”  (Davis et. al 26). After undergoing a quest in the underworld, the hero returns to the daily world empowered. These underworld stories have recurred throughout the ages, continuing into modern day. James Hillman identifies that “myths are not simply part of the past . . . Myth lives vividly in our symptoms and fantasies and in our conceptual systems” (Dream 23). Therefore, it is no surprise that films, one of our most popular devices for modern storytelling and mythmaking, have presented the important myth of the underworld time and time again. In 2010, director Christopher Nolan released the film Inception, which adeptly depicts the underworld through dreams. As Nolan indicates, “[W]hen you’re talking about dreaming . . . you are talking about this universal human experience” (10). The dreamscape provides an excellent landscape for the underworld (which is also a universal experience), for “[i]t’s no secret that dreams belong to the underworld” (Hillman, Dream 2). The film was a box office success because of Nolan’s ability to bring viewers into the timeless and relatable realm of dreams, which connects us all to the deeper, mythological experience with the underworld.

Inception, which is, on the surface, a multi-layered story about a heist, touches on the elements of the underworld that we are familiar with from ancient mythology. The main character Cobb (played by Leonardo DiCaprio) has recently lost his wife and is coping with this tragedy, which is compounded by the fact that the authorities think he killed her. His overarching goal in the film is to return home to be with his children. In this film, a device called the Portable Automated Somnacin IntraVenous Device allows individuals to share dreams. Cobb works with individuals that are hired to go into someone’s dream to steal a thought. This is called extraction. The high-stakes job the film centers around calls for something different, something that only Cobb has performed before – inception. Instead of extracting a thought from an individual, a thought is planted in the individual’s mind. Working with dreams, which automatically call to mind the unconscious and represent a descent, director Christopher Nolan is able to develop a new story of the underworld, which involves a look at the depths of mind and the process of grief and loss, another component tied to the underworld: “Loss does characterize underworld experiences, from mourning to the dream” (Hillman, Dream 54).

The film opens in a dream that Cobb and his entered with a team for an extraction. During Cobb’s opening dialogue about dreams, he states, “Once an idea’s taken hold in the brain, it’s almost impossible to eradicate” (Inception). As he explains this, a character off-camera picks up a wine glass. The glass crosses the screen, briefly disrupting the image of Cobb. Only the glass itself, not the wine within it, can be seen. This is the first of many uses of the image of glass in the film. In Re-Visioning Psychology, James Hillman emphasizes the importance of this image:

Glass in dreams . . . presents the paradox of solid transparency; its very purpose is to permit seeing through. Glass is the metaphor par excellence for psychic reality: it is itself not visible, appearing only to be its contents, and the contents of the psyche, by being placed within or behind glass, have been moved from palpable reality to metaphorical reality, out of life and into image. 142.

Nolan uses this visual metaphor often in the dream world as a reminder that the reality viewers are seeing is in the purely psychic realm, not one of day-to-day living. Later in this same dream sequence, when the dream begins to disintegrate, shattering glass explodes across the screen.

In order to enter this shared-dream realm to perform extraction or inception, an architect is needed to design the dream world. Cobb’s team needs a new architect for the inception job, and he hires an architect student named Ariadne (played by Ellen Page). Her name immediately calls to mind the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur. As in the myth, Ariadne’s role will be to guide the hero, Cobb, out of a labyrinth – in this case, the labyrinth is in his own mind. When everyone enters the shared dream state, other elements may unconsciously arise. Because Cobb is undergoing a psychological struggle, the image of his wife appears in his dreams. Unlike his real life wife, Mal, this shadow of her is often destructive. Ariadne is the only one on Cobb’s team that knows how deeply his suffering is affecting him. Therefore, like Athena for Odysseus on his way home, Ariadne also becomes Cobb’s “guide and protector” (Smith, Sacred 26).

Figure 1 Cobb's drawing in Inception

Figure 1 Cobb’s drawing in Inception

When Cobb hires Ariadne, he has to show her how to navigate the dream realm.  The first time they dream-share, she is unaware they are dreaming. They have a discussion on dreams, and as Cobb identifies that the mind “creates and perceives a world simultaneously” (Inception), he draws a simple sketch (figure 1) that calls to mind the path the hero takes on his journey (figure 2), as identified by Joseph Campbell (30). Cobb’s simple circular arrows around a straight line indicate a descent and a return, as does Campbell’s formula. This visual accentuates that although the film encapsulates many characters and a great heist adventure, the heart of the story is about Cobb’s heroic descent and return. Cobb then leads Ariadne to recognize that they are having this conversation in a dream. She begins to lose her calm and the dream erupts around them, again including the image of shattering glass to represent the break of the psychic realm back to the daily realm. After they awaken, Ariadne agrees to explore more of the shared-dream with Cobb.

Figure 2 Campbell's monomyth (30)

Figure 2 Campbell’s monomyth (30)

While walking through the landscape that Ariadne is designing in the dream, she asks Cobb who all the other people are that are also walking around. He explains that they are “projections of [his] unconscious” (Inception). Although Ariadne is the dreamer, Cobb is the subject, so his “subconscious populates [the] world.” As Ariadne explores new architectural possibilities in the dream realm, she begins to play with gravity and the natural order of the world. She soon notices that Cobb’s projections are staring at her. Cobb explains that his “subconscious feels that someone else is creating the world” (Inception), and it arouses suspicion. He also explains to Ariadne that because it is his “subconscious [he cannot] control it” (Inception).

This pivotal scene with Cobb and Ariadne, which sets up the parameters of dream-sharing for the viewers, introduces key elements from depth-psychology. The dream persons that Cobb identifies as projections were discussed by Hillman in Dream and the Underworld: “The persons I engage with in dreams are neither representations . . . of their living selves nor parts of myself. They are shadow images that fill archetypal roles” (61). These shadows are representative of the unconscious, as Cobb has identified. However, as the scene continues, a specific shadow appears in the form of Cobb’s wife. Appearing as more than a mere memory, she fulfills the archetypal role of the anima. According to Hillman, the archetype “comes in the shape of this or that personal memory” (61), so it is fitting that Cobb’s anima appears as his wife. Furthermore, Jung identified the “anima as the personification of the unconscious” (Hillman, Re-Visioning 43). When Mal appears before Cobb in his dreams, she is all at once memory, anima, and unconscious, powerful elements to contend with in the underworld of the dream realm.

When Cobb first sees Mal in this dream, Ariadne is continuing to play with the architecture around them. She turns two very large mirrors, which reflect her and Cobb (a symbol of their shared journey), together across a bridge. With the touch of her hand, she shatters both mirrors across the bridge, again demonstrating that ability to see through. This time, the glass vanishes and the dream continues. What is present in the dream is more than what meets the eye. There is a reason Cobb continues to be haunted by his memories, his anima, and his wife. Ariadne later identifies, “[Y]ou’re going to have to forgive yourself, and you’re going to have to confront her [Mal]. But you don’t have to do it alone” (Inception). Her mythological role as his protector and guide is solidified when she makes this statement.

After this central dream, Cobb’s team begins to work on their heist job (to perform inception on a specific individual), and Ariadne prepares the architecture for the dream. Shortly before it is time for the team to leave for their heist, Ariadne finds Cobb, alone, connected to the Portable Automated Somnacin IntraVenous Device. Because of using this device so frequently, it is now the only way that Cobb can dream. Ariadne takes it upon herself to enter Cobb’s dream to see what he is doing in these dreams. She ultimately finds an elevator in Cobb’s dream and, much to his displeasure, descends to the basement level. This image of descent reinforces the notion of the underworld and dream. In the basement, metaphorically the deepest part of the unconscious, Ariadne sees Cobb’s memory of the night that his wife Mal killed herself. Mal was convinced that they were in a dream and that when she died, she would wake up.

After awakening from the shared-dream with Cobb, Ariadne insists on going with the team for the heist job since she is the only one who knows what he is dealing with in his subconscious. (Though she has designed the architecture for the dream world where the inception is to take place, it was not part of the plan for her to go with the team on the job). When the team, including Ariadne and Cobb, enters the shared-dream with the individual they are to perform inception on, a heavier sedation than usual is utilized. This will permit them more time in the dream realm and the ability to descend deeper by creating dreams within dreams (all necessary to successfully perform inception). The situation becomes problematic when one of the dreamers on the team is mortally wounded in the dream. Though dying typically wakes one up from the shared-dream, under this form of sedation the dreamer cannot awaken. Therefore, the mind will be lost in limbo, which is defined as “unconstructed dream space [filled with] raw, infinite subconscious” (Inception). Cobb explains to Ariadne that he and Mal were once trapped in limbo when they were exploring dreams within dreams. Though it was only hours in the real world, Cobb and Mal spent years in limbo together, losing track of what was real. As Cobb explains what this did to Mal, Ariadne understands that she “was just lost in the labyrinth” (italics mine, Nolan). This line, present in the shooting script but not in the final film, again emphasizes Ariadne’s mythological role.

The team descends deeper in the dream realm, continuing their job. Cobb’s projection of Mal appears in one of the deeper levels, shooting and killing another dreamer before Cobb can summon up the courage to stop her. With two individuals of the dream now trapped in limbo, Cobb decides to descend into limbo to bring them back. Because Cobb has been in limbo before, whatever he left behind remains there. Ariadne accompanies him to help him face Mal. When they descend into the realm of limbo, they are washed ashore by the ocean waves. As Hillman indicates, the “general geography” of the underworld gleaned from myth indicates that to descend to the underworld, waters must be crossed (Dream 17). Though the whole film embraces underworld and dream imagery, at this point we have descended into deepest realm of the unconscious, the darkest part of the underworld. Water also indicatesthat “the dreamer is in danger of being over-whelmed by the unconscious in an emotional psychosis, flooded with fantasies – no ground, no standpoint” (Hillman, Dream 153). This is the moment Cobb has truly entered the labyrinth that Ariadne must guide him through.

Cobb finds his projection of Mal – this image of both his anima and his guilt – in limbo. With Ariadne by his side, Cobb explains to Mal (and the audience) that he needed to convince her that her world was not real in order for them to escape when they were in limbo. However, as Hillman ascertains, “[T]he underworld perspective radically alters our experience of life” (Dream 46). Cobb never imagined that the idea would continue to grow, convincing Mal that the waking world they returned to was not real either. After telling his projection of Mal why he is responsible for her suicide, she asks him to stay with her this time. Like Nausicaa offering marriage to Odysseus, this “represents the familiar temptation of the hero to remain in the magic circle of the archetypal realm, rather than to make his way back into the normal suffering of human life” (Smith, Sacred 26). When Cobb refuses Mal’s plea, she stabs him. Ariadne shoots her, and as Mal’s projection dies in Cobb’s arms, he is able to tell her, “I miss you more than I can bear, but we had our time together. And now I have to let go.” He makes his peace, and Ariadne has guided him out of his inner labyrinth.

Ultimately, Cobb, Ariadne, and the wounded dreamers find their way out of limbo, and all of the dreamers awaken from the dream. In the midst of Cobb’s inner battle, the team successfully completed their job of inception. The heist is over, and as a reward from the man who hired them, Cobb’s name has been cleared with the authorities. No longer a suspect in his wife’s death, he is free to go home to his children.

In the film, all of the individuals who enter the realm of dream-share own a totem, an item that Hillman has identified as “keepers of our lives” (Re-Visioning 47). The totem is something individuals have created for themselves to be able to identify if they are dreaming or not. Throughout the film, Cobb uses Mal’s totem, a spinning top.

If he is in a dream, the top never stops spinning. When he is awake, it topples over. This helps Cobb differentiate between waking life and the dream realm. When Cobb arrives home, he spins the top on a table to make sure he is not dreaming about this long-awaited reunion with his children. Before he can see if the top has stopped spinning, his children turn to see him from the backyard. He walks through a doorway – a significant image that “marks the incarnation of the divine [back] into the mortal realm” (Smith, Sacred 32) – and embraces his children. The camera shifts over to the spinning top, but the screen cuts to black before viewers can see if it stops spinning. As the film ends, viewers are left with this question: Was Cobb dreaming?

After exploring the film as an underworld story, it is clear that Cobb was not dreaming in the final scene. Mythologically, he must return to his children after undergoing transformation in the underworld. As Evans Lansing Smith identifies, “The mythic journey . . . reminds us that there is a passage through death, and a return journey to be made” (Sacred 16). Just as Inanna returns after her descent to the underworld and Odysseus finds his way home, so too must Cobb. The Nekyia, which Jacobi defines as containing “life, death and rebirth” (italics mine, 179), includes both the descent and ascent. This is clearly represented in Cobb’s figure about dreams, which echoes Campbell’s figure of the hero’s journey (Figures 1 & 2). The trip to the underworld always includes descent to and from the underworld, which permits the “creation of new self out of decomposition of old self” (italics mine; Smith, Class). If Cobb fails to return from the underworld, the journey is incomplete.

 

Works Cited

Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Princeton, NJ: Princeton UP, 1972.

Davis, Paul et. al. eds. The Bedford Anthology of World Literature: The Ancient World, Beginnings-100C.E. Boston: Bedford / St. Martin’s, 2004.

Hillman, James. The Dream and the Underworld. New York: Harper & Row, 1979. Print.

—. Re-visioning Psychology. New York: Harper & Row, 1975.

Inception. Dir. Christopher Nolan. Perf. Leonardo Dicaprio and Ellen Page. 2010. DVD.

Jacobi, Jolande. Complex/archetype/symbol in the Psychology of C.G. Jung. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1959.

Nolan, Christopher. Inception: The Shooting Script. San Rafael, CA: Insight, 2010.

Smith, Evans Lansing. Class lecture. MS619: Myth and the Underworld. Pacifica Graduate Institute, Carpinteria, CA. 25 July 2012.

—. Sacred Mysteries: Myths About Couples in Quest. Nevada City: Blue Dolphin, 2003.

 

 

Works Consulted

Bulfinch, Thomas. Mythology. New York: Laurel, 1959. Print.