Gender, Status, Space: An Intersectional Analysis of Sexual Violence in the Middle Dutch Play ‘Lanseloet van Denemerken’

ABSTRACT

This essay examines the topic of sexual violence in Middle Dutch literature, centring on the play ‘Lanseloet van Denemerken’ (c.1405). Although medieval literature is known for its gender-based violence, the topic has not received much attention from scholars of Middle Dutch. This article aims to renew the scholarly debate by analysing the Middle Dutch text from an innovative intersectional perspective, integrating the analytical categories of gender, social status and narrative space and adopting those categories for literary studies. This analysis uncovers new meanings in the play and demonstrates that gender, status and space work together in creating an unsafe situation, in which the female protagonist Sanderijn is raped by the male protagonist Lanseloet. Subsequently, this article analyses recent scholarly publications on ‘Lanseloet van Denemerken’ to investigate how scholars in Middle Dutch literature are handling the sensitive topic of rape. It is demonstrated that our interpretations and discussions of the medieval text run the risk of being involuntarily influenced by present-day rape myths – false beliefs and attitudes about sexual violence that prevail in our current culture. Therefore, this article calls on researchers’ shared responsibility to ensure a continuous and open discussion of sensitive topics in the field of Middle Dutch literary studies.

KEYWORDS:

• Middle Dutch literature
• sexual violence
• gender
• status
• space
• intersectionality
• Abele spelen

Introduction

The Middle Dutch play ‘Lanseloet van Denemerken’ (Lanseloet of Denmark) is one of the four famous ‘abele spelen’, a remarkably early collection of vernacular secular plays recorded around 1405 in the Van Hulthem manuscript.¹ Many scholars have contended that the play centres around Prince Lanseloet of Denmark, a tragic hero, who finds himself with the impossible dilemma of choosing between his heart and his mind. While his mother urges him to take a spouse of the highest social class, his heart is set on marrying and bedding Sanderijn, a girl belonging to the lower nobility. In a desperate attempt to both please his mother and satisfy his personal desire, Lanseloet takes his mother’s ill advice and rapes and renounces Sanderijn. The events ultimately result in his untimely death out of grief and remorse. He thus succumbs to his own moral weakness, after a long struggle on an inevitable road to perdition.²

About thirty years ago, a radically different interpretation of the play was suggested, in which Lanseloet does not feature as a tragic hero. Instead, Sanderijn fulfils the role of an empowered heroine.³ Surprisingly, this interpretation, proposed by Jeanette Koekman in the early nineties, has had barely any influence on the scholarly debate on this canonical literary text. The continuous silence surrounding the character of Sanderijn seems to go hand in hand with a hesitation to analyse what transpires between Lanseloet and Sanderijn as a literary case of sexual violence. Since the actual assault takes place off stage, the Middle Dutch text has graciously allowed scholars to carefully tread around this sore spot in Dutch literary pride. This blind eye is regrettable since we can learn many things from a text like ‘Lanseloet’ about both our historical literature and the way we currently deal with the past.

The present article therefore serves two aims. Firstly, I will present an intersectional analysis of the Middle Dutch text, analysing it as a literary case of sexual violence, in order to demonstrate that the play is constructed to create an unsafe situation, in which gender, social status and narrative space intersect and in which abuse seems almost inevitable. Secondly, as a member of the community of scholars in Middle Dutch literature, I will examine how our recent manners of reading, discussing, and interpreting this medieval text have been involuntarily influenced by the (generally false) attitudes and beliefs about sexual violence that are prevalent in our culture today. I will contend that the analytical categories of gender, status and narrative space are crucial to understanding medieval narratives about sexual violence as well as present-day rape myths that might have muddled our scholarly vision, preventing us from seeing Lanseloet’s true colours.

A Play About Sanderijn

As demonstrated by numerous accounts of performances in the fifteenth through eighteenth centuries, ‘Lanseloet van Denemerken’ enjoyed a certain popularity.⁴ Fascinatingly, the play was not always designated by the name of its male protagonist. In 1549 and 1550 in Zwolle, the play was recorded as ‘Spel van Sanderijn’: a play about Sanderijn.⁵ As Koekman rightfully pointed out, Sanderijn is indeed entitled to the status of the play’s main protagonist, no less than Lanseloet.⁶ Contrary to the morally flawed Lanseloet, Sanderijn is represented as the perfect maiden: she is beautiful, well-mannered, pure and chaste. Moreover, she is not, like so many other women in medieval texts, objectified or silenced: she is an individual with a proper name, whose voice is heard throughout the play, and who undergoes an emotional development.⁷

When we first meet the couple, they evidently hold dear feelings towards one another. Sanderijn, however, repeatedly rejects Lanseloet’s pleas to become his mistress: she is well aware of the consequences of the loss of her virginity for her future, and since a proper marriage is out of the question because of their difference in rank, she prefers keeping him at arm’s length. Lanseloet, dissatisfied, complains about his situation to his wicked mother, who devices a trick to let him have his way with her. The mother is convinced that after one night together, his desires will have cooled down and nothing will stand in the way of a match more worthy for her son. She proposes to send Sanderijn to his bedroom, on condition that he will turn his back on her as soon as he has had what he wants. Although objecting to such discourteous behaviours, he agrees, and Sanderijn is summoned. At this point in the text, we read a short cue: ‘Nu heeft si gheweest met hem in die camere’ (Now she has been with him in his private room (ll. 322)).⁸

Next, Sanderijn expresses in an emotional monologue the grief, shame and humiliation she feels at what has just transpired off stage in Lanseloet’s bedroom. She explicitly acknowledges that what has happened was against her will: ‘Want ic hebt sonder danc ghedaen; Dies es mi te moede wee’ (For I did it against my will; therefore, I am sad (ll. 344–345)). She decides to run away and leave it all behind. In a forest, she meets a courteous knight who would like to marry her. After she has elegantly revealed to him by means of a courtly parable that she is no longer a virgin, he repeats his wish to marry her and together they wander off. Meanwhile, Lanseloet is consumed by regret and sends out his servant Reinout to bring back Sanderijn. When Reinout finally finds her, Sanderijn refuses to return to Denmark and prefers to remain with the nameless knight. Sanderijn, through Reinout, sends Lanseloet the parable so he will recognize the truth of her refusal. Reinout delivers the message, but, fearing it will mean his master’s death, he pretends that Sanderijn has died. Lanseloet now tragically recognizes his responsibility for the course of events, revealed to him though the parable. He longs to see Sanderijn in heaven and dies of misery.

From this synopsis, it is evident that Sanderijn’s actions are as vital to the plot as Lanseloet’s, and that the play’s spectators were repeatedly presented with her point of view.⁹ The play has even been characterized as ‘female-friendly’.¹⁰ Furthermore, while Lanseloet’s development is about an increasing self-reflection, Sanderijn’s development is about a traumatized person getting her life back together. Regardless of the anonymous author’s intentions, the medieval audience may have identified with either character. To fully understand this play of Sanderijn, we not only need to re-read it from Sanderijn’s perspective, but we also need to carefully reconsider it as a literary representation of a case of sexual violence, as the events in the ‘camere’ are a clear turning point in the plot.

Ever since the play’s edition by P. Leendertz (1907), the question whether Sanderijn was raped or seduced has been a topic of discussion. Nevertheless, within the academic publishing realm, this discussion often did not exceed the odd phrase here and there.¹¹ I will therefore limit myself to the more substantial contributions. Reading the text from the perspective of a victim-survivor, Koekman convincingly argued that Sanderijn was not seduced but raped, after being led to believe by the queen that Lanseloet was on his sick bed and would greatly benefit from her visit.

Unfortunately, however, scholarly debate in the next decade centred on Lanseloet again. Influential was the interpretation of Bart Besamusca, who contended that Lanseloet was not pretending to be ill but sincerely suffering from ‘amor hereos’, or lovesickness – according to medieval medicine a real, physical ailment that could only be cured by fulfilling the afflicted person’s erotic desire. ‘Once amor heroes had one firmly in its grasp, one would, uninhibited by shame or fear of imminent danger, try to obtain one’s goal, sexual union with the beloved. The patient was dominated by a fierce passion that could lead to madness and death.’¹² Although Besamusca does speak of rape, his interpretation is limited to explaining Lanseloet’s actions as well as his mother’s motives as inevitably and naturally resulting from the inescapable force of ‘amor hereos’.

While I agree that the characteristics of lovesickness are clearly recognizable in the play, there is some reason to doubt whether Lanseloet’s illness is advanced enough to determine his actions. After all, according to Sanderijn, the queen’s words are untruthful (‘ene sterke logene’ (ll. 326)), which they would not have been if Lanseloet were really seriously ill and in danger of dying. Therefore, Lanseloet’s ailment does not entirely excuse his wrongdoing. Moreover, as this example demonstrates, this interpretation may still be enriched by including Sanderijn’s perspective.

Other scholars, like Orlanda Lie, Bart Ramakers and Remco Sleiderink, maintained that it was not so much the rape that bothered Sanderijn; she would have been far more hurt by Lanseloet’s rude behaviour afterwards.¹³ Indeed, if we assume Lanseloet followed his mother’s exact instructions, he cast her off in a most uncivil manner, shoving her aside as a revolting dish after a nauseating food binge: ‘Sanderijn, ic ben uus nu sat, Ende van herten alsoe mat, Al haddic 7 baken gheten’ (Sanderijn, I have had my fill of you and I am sick of you, as if I had gorged myself on seven sides of bacon (ll. 241–243)). This is shockingly rude, even if Lanseloet does not mean what he says, in this way pleading himself free, at least to his own mind (ll. 269–273). As was pointed out by Lie, through this comment Lanseloet lowered himself to the social level of a discourteous peasant, unworthy of a man of his rank but nevertheless in line with contemporary love advice.¹⁴ Moreover, directly after the rape, Sanderijn expresses feeling hurt above anything by Lanseloet’s behaviour (‘Nochtan deert mi boven al Die woorde, die hi sprac, die ridder vri, Ende keerde sijn anschijn omme van mi, Al haddic gheweest een stinckende hont’ (ll. 332–335)).

However, as cruel as this behaviour is, it is not the reason why Sanderijn refuses to return to Lanseloet as his wife later on in the story. From the parable she sends him, it becomes evident that it is the rape she resents him for:

‘Ghi selt segghen den ridder vri,Dat wi stonden, ic ende hi,In enen sconen groenen bogaertEnde dat dear quam van hogher aertEen edel valcke van hogher weerdeEnde beete neder op ene gheerde,Die scone met haren bloeme stoet.Dit seldi segghen den ridder goetEnde dat die valke, die daer quam,Ene bloeme van dier gheerden nam,Ende alle die andere liet hi staen.Sine vlerken ghinc hi van hem slaen,Ende vloech wech met haesten groet.’

(You shall tell the honourable knight, that we were standing – I and he – in a lovely green garden. There came a falcon of noble birth, who descended and sat on a branch that was blossoming with beautiful flowers. This you will tell the good knight, and also that this falcon took a flower off this branch, leaving all other flowers untouched. He clapped his wings and hastily took off (ll. 793–805))

When reading Sanderijn’s words as survivor speech, it appears that Lanseloet’s uncivility did not stay with her in the long run, but his appropriation of her body did. And while directly after the rape she criticized the queen for her trickery (ll. 321–331), she eventually blames only Lanseloet for the course of events.

Most importantly, all of these literary scholars analysed the text from a historical-cultural perspective, taking into consideration relevant aspects of medieval culture, but lacking the focus on social constructs that is necessary to investigate cases of sexual violence. In other words, the discussion about whether rape did or did not take place in this play, however important, does not contribute to our understanding of the mechanisms governing sexual violence and of how these mechanisms were and are reflected in our literature. This question, however, becomes more important every day in light of the #MeToo-movement. Furthermore, historical literature offers fruitful ground for the study of sensitive topics, precisely because we may observe them from a little distance: these texts stem from our culture and therefore they are about us, but they are not related to us in any direct way. Nevertheless, no in-depth research of sexual violence in any Middle Dutch text has been undertaken, even though many interesting studies on the theme have been published about literature in other medieval languages over the past few decades.¹⁵ Clearly, the field of Middle Dutch literature is lingering somewhat behind here, while adapting new methodologies will allow us to learn many new things about a well-known text like ‘Lanseloet’.

In this article, I will therefore propose a new framework to analyse the various and complex ways in which the theme of sexual violence is represented in ‘Lanseloet van Denemerken’. I will contend that the ways in which its plot steers towards an unsafe situation in Lanseloet’s ‘camere’ are influenced by a combination of factors that can be studied in coherence, with the help of the concept of intersectionality. Intersectionality is a theoretical concept that considers gender as always intersecting with other analytical categories. Therefore, it focuses on what Leslie McCall described as ‘the relationships among multiple dimensions and modalities of social relations and subject formations’.¹⁶ Adopting, in essence, the methodology she termed ‘intercategorical complexity’, I will analyse the social relationships between characters in ‘Lanseloet’ as well as how these relationships affect the development of the plot.¹⁷

Although intersectionality was originally developed by Kimberlé Crenshaw in 1991 to study categories of identity and has therefore by medievalists mainly been used to study historical identities, I will demonstrate the concept’s usefulness for literary studies.¹⁸ In my literary analysis, I will combine three, intersecting, analytical categories: gender, social status, and narrative space. While gender and status have been studied in intersection numerous times by both historians and sociologists, transferring these categories to the analysis of literary characters allows for the addition of a third category, namely that of narrative space. While both gender and status have frequently been successfully applied as categories of analysis of historical literature, they have not yet been combined with the category of narrative space, even though the latter belongs to the essential toolkit of every literary scholar.¹⁹ The example of ‘Lanseloet’ will demonstrate how narrative spaces can be infused with meaning through gendered roles and class differences, resulting in the creation of unsafe fictional spaces that remind us of real-life present-day cases of power-abuse and sexual assault.

High-Status Men, Lower-Status Women and His Castle

In her famous 1989 paper, Crenshaw centred on a legal case that dealt with both racial discrimination and sex discrimination at General Motors. She pointed out that, while the law acknowledged that black people were being discriminated for their race and women were being discriminated for their gender, the court failed to see that black women belonged to both groups and therefore were disadvantaged more severely than either black men or white women.²⁰ This has become a classic example of how intersectionality can expose the various dimensions of identity and their effect on inequality between social groups. Not unlike the black women at General Motors, Sanderijn is disadvantaged both by her gender and her status.²¹ It is well-known that medieval women were generally and openly considered subordinate to their men.²² Lanseloet, however, is not only a man but also a prince, and he is of far higher rank than Sanderijn, who belongs to the lower nobility.²³ Therefore, despite their mutual affection, to both characters a marriage seems out of the question. As an alternative, Lanseloet suggests they simply make love and hope for the best: she may still become his wife at some point in future, for ‘messelike dinge sijn ghesciet’ (unexpected things have happened before (ll. 88)). Sanderijn, however, is clearly aware of the fragility of her social status. She is not interested in the socially inferior position of mistress and refuses to sell herself short (‘Soe en dadic mi niet te cleine’ (ll. 83)). Above anything, she values her virginity. As Lanseloet persists in his desire for sex and presses her to give in, she also emphasizes her vulnerability as a woman, for – she states – many women have been misled by men before, and she is certain that if she would grant him the opportunity, ‘Hi en soude met mi doen sijn gherief’ (he would do with me as he pleases (ll. 135)).

Sanderijn’s hesitation is not unfounded. A similar combination of gender difference and status difference is essential to the plot of a medieval lyrical genre that includes rape scenes almost by rule. In the Middle French pastourelle – as well as in pastourelles in other vernacular European languages – women of low rank, usually shepherdesses or milk maids, are violated by a passing knight.²⁴ Admittedly, high and low are relative terms, and the difference in rank between Lanseloet and Sanderijn does not equal that between a knight and a milkmaid in absolute terms. However, the comparison is valid because of Lanseloet’s exceptionally powerful position as a prince. Moreover, the difference in status must be considered of central importance, as it is thematized throughout the text and even throughout the Van Hulthem manuscript.²⁵

Although no pastourelles have been transmitted in Middle Dutch, the dialogue in our play’s first scene (‘Eerste tafereel’) transpires in a way that is very similar to the typical plot of this popular lyrical genre. Just as in a pastourelle, Lanseloet first tries to win Sanderijn over by offering her the prospect of wealth and gifts (ll. 84–93).²⁶ Next, he tries to make her pity his miserable state (ll. 108–123), followed by flattery (ll. 136–147). But, to his heart’s lament, he must finally conclude that ‘Sine wilt doen den wille mine’ (she does not want to fulfil my desire (ll. 162)). At this point, as is the case for the pastourelle’s knight, there is no alternative before him but to use his undeniable power over her – the product of a combination of his male gender and high status – to gets his way by force.²⁷

The coercion (‘Lanseloets gewelt’ (ll. 330)) experienced by Sanderijn upon entering Lanseloet’s bedroom does not result from his power only. The ultimate plan to rape and reject Sanderijn is concocted by his conniving mother, the queen, who means to separate the low-born Sanderijn from her royal son. She, too, is of much higher rank than Sanderijn, whose actual position at court is that of the queen’s servant. Although both are women, the mother exerts a power over Sanderijn in two ways: she is a queen and she is Sanderijn’s direct superior. Therefore, the mother’s request for Sanderijn to visit the sick Lanseloet in his bedroom (ll. 306–309) is, truly, a command that cannot be refused. Sanderijn’s seemingly docile obedience is that of a subordinate servant: ‘Edel vrouwe, dat ghi ghebiet, Wert herde gerne van mi ghedaen’ (Honourable lady, your command I will do with pleasure, ll. 310–311). It is not an act of consent.²⁸ Even though Sanderijn might have suspected what was about to happen, she was not free to refuse, as she was in the first scene.

Unsurprisingly, but without fully recognizing the multidimensional unequal social relations between the characters, some scholars have selected the mother as the play’s one true villain.²⁹ She is often considered the real culprit of the crime, especially because Lanseloet initially rejects her plan, which he considers beneath him (ll. 250–261). This argument, however, can easily be reversed; Lanseloet fully realizes that following his mother’s advice will result in him loosing Sanderijn, and still he agrees.

The mother’s role is therefore more complex than is generally accounted for, and we should further investigate the nature of the mother’s influence over Lanseloet. Again, the intersection of gender and status offers a useful angle. They are almost equal in rank, but she apparently counterweights his male superiority. I suspect the reason for this is her motherly authority in questions of (sexual) education. In medieval literature, mothers often act as counsellors in the domain of sexual pedagogy.³⁰ In many cases, this concerns mothers urging their daughters to stay in and protect their virginity. In the case of ‘Lanseloet’, however, the mother’s advice fits in with the medieval double standard: while girls were encouraged to remain chaste, boys were stimulated to gain sexual experience in order to be prepared for the wedding night.³¹ In combination with Lanseloet’s passionate desire, his mother’s authoritative status may have convinced him to follow through.

The role of the evil female advisor is furthermore fuelled by medieval misogynistic tradition, that found its justification in the temptation of Eve, and that promoted the view that Eve – and therefore all women – are the cause of all evil in this world. Moreover, because of their physiology, medieval medicine believed women to be unstable by nature, and therefore generally untrustworthy. Consequently, unruly women were dreaded most, particularly those women who adopted authoritative positions and exercised their influence over men.³² The mother is therefore not merely a personification of female evil and cunning; she occupies a particularly dangerous position at the intersection of gender and status.

Having shown how gender and status intersect in the creation of fictional unequal relations and power mechanisms, we can note a remarkable pattern regarding our third category of analysis, narrative space. The use of gender and status and their effects on the play’s plot appear to be further enhanced by the use of narrative space. Needless to emphasize, Lanseloet’s bedroom embodies the centre of his power over Sanderijn and this location further intensifies the paralysing pressure put on her.

However, this explicitly unsafe space is preceded by another, more implicitly unsafe space. In the first scene, the couple meets in the castle’s enclosed garden, underneath an ‘neghelentier’ (rose bush (ll. 51)). In medieval literature, this is a traditional location offering courtly lovers a safe space to meet and enjoy each other’s company. In ‘Lanseloet’, it is the background of the dialogue in which he relentlessly insists upon sex and she decidedly refuses him her body three times. Despite their warm feelings towards one another, their meeting is infused with intimidation, and the seemingly safe space offers a sharp contrast with the unequal relation between both characters. Without doubt, this tension was recognized as an ominous prophecy by the medieval audience, who was familiar with the ‘neghelentier’-topos.

The inequality between the characters is enhanced, again, by the detail that the castle is Lanseloet’s. Therefore, its garden, like his bedroom, falls within his spatial power sphere.³³ The oppressive effect of this spatial sphere is emphasized once more when Sanderijn decides to leave. She can only free herself from Lanseloet’s power over her, if she leaves the space controlled by him: ‘Ic salt al laten’ (I shall leave it all behind (ll. 340)), ‘Lanseloet, ghi en siet mi nemmermee’ (Lanseloet, you will never see me again (ll. 346)). She finds herself wandering through a forest, eventually pausing at a water source – both symbols of purification and redemption. There, she is found by the nameless knight, who approaches her in a respectful manner that contrasts with Lanseloet’s earlier behaviour. Sanderijn starts a new life, in a different country. Lanseloet, on the other hand, remains in his castle and must deal with the consequences of his power abuse, for which he pays with his life.

I have demonstrated that the social relations between the characters in ‘Lanseloet van Denemerken’ are, from the very beginning of the play, carefully constructed to deny Sanderijn any form of self-determination. Gender, status and narrative space work together in the creation of an unsafe fictional space, laying out a scene in which abuse seems inevitable. I think it not farfetched to assume that medieval men and women faced the threat of rape just as much as we do. This assumption is supported by the many medieval legal documents accounting for rape cases.³⁴ I therefore think it likely that many spectators will have recognized at least some of the mechanisms identified here, such as the tension between Sanderijn’s being unsafe in a usually safe space. In this way, the play offered the audience yet another layer of meaning, in addition to those meanings uncovered by previous scholars: for some spectators it is a play about Lanseloet, for others about Sanderijn.

Good Men Do Not Rape: Discussing Sensitive Topics in Middle Dutch Literary Studies

The ways in which we – as scholars – have been approaching a play like ‘Lanseloet’ offer us a mirror to question our own attitudes towards literary representations of sexual violence, as I will demonstrate in the remaining part of this article. Most especially, I will trace how our modern cultural background has guided our understanding of this medieval text. To what extent or in what way did scholars recognize Sanderijn’s situation as unsafe? And what factors or influences were acknowledged as contributing to this unsafety, laying the scene for Lanseloet’s offence, and instigating the play’s dramatic climax? Most importantly, I will ask what an analysis of scholarly publications may tell us about the way we, as a community of specialists in Middle Dutch literature including myself, have been handling the theme of sexual violence and how we may improve our work in future. Good progress has been made in the manner of discussing the sensitive topic of rape over the past century, and this article aims to offer specific leads to ensure this progress will continue. To conclude, I will therefore plead for ongoing self-reflection while dealing with sensitive or possibly uncomfortable topics.

The concept of rape myths is essential to this reflection. Rape myths are ‘attitudes and generally false beliefs about rape that are widely and persistently held, and that serve to deny and justify male sexual aggression against women.’³⁵ One such common believe is that certain women are at greater risk of rape, for instance because they wear short skirts, flirt with men and walk out on the street late at night and may through such behaviour even tempt men to assault them. Such rape myths are prevalent in our culture, and they are widely accepted by the general population, despite their inaccuracy. They are reinforced over and over again, because ‘isolated incidents that are in accordance with the myth tend to be widely publicized. The vast majority of rapes that contradict the myth, however, are overlooked.’³⁶ Most noteworthy, rape myth acceptance stretches to domains that are supposed to maintain a certain objectivity, such as media and journalism, police affairs and court trials.³⁷ Rape myths, therefore, are in all of us, and it would be unwise to think our scholarly community, including the present article, immune to mechanisms rooted so deeply in our culture.

Even so, much has changed since the concept of rape myths was first introduced in 1980.³⁸ Some rape myths, such as the ‘women in short skirts ask for it’-myth, are now familiar to many of us and it is tempting to think of this as progress. However, it is sooner the opposite, as a new and far more complex challenge is before us. As society has begun to take sexual violence more seriously, rape myths ‘tend to be expressed more subtly than in the past in order for them to appear more socially acceptable’. Subsequently, ‘The subtlety of contemporary prejudicial attitudes makes them harder to recognize, which by consequence makes the underlying systems of oppression more resistant to change.’³⁹

This change for subtlety is also recognizable in our scholarly tradition. In 1907, Leendertz conservatively contended that Sanderijn is eagerly and willingly seduced by her lover. Over half a century later, in 1949, Jozef van Mierlo challenged this view, arguing that she is raped and supporting this interpretation by underlining the violence Lanseloet did to her.⁴⁰ This assumption of physical violence, however, is poorly substantiated by textual evidence.⁴¹ Van Mierlo simply assumed that Sanderijn, having previously rejected Lanseloet in the garden, would not have entered his bedroom, were she not physically forced to do so. Considering physical violence as a prerequisite for rape, is an evident rape myth. In reality, most victims either cooperate or freeze, and therefore physical violence is not required for nor common to rape.⁴² Even so, Van Mierlo, in line with this rape myth, added that using violence suits a character like Lanseloet, who is driven by lust, not love.⁴³

Another half century after Van Mierlo, most scholars seem to agree that Sanderijn was violated. However, our discussions are still influenced by rape myths, even though these are now more subtle than in Van Mierlo’s time. Disturbing is, for instance, the relevant passage in our most recent history of Dutch literature, a magnificent piece of work, where Frits van Oostrom nevertheless avoids describing the relevant events:

The queen deludes Sanderijn by telling her that the prince is seriously ill; the girl visits him on his sick bed, etcetera – and as a result, she feels scandalously abused. (‘De koningin maakt Sanderijn wijs dat de prins ernstig ziek is; het meisje bezoekt hem aan zijn bed, et cetera – met als gevolg dat zij zich schandelijk misbruikt voelt.’ (Van Oostrom, Wereld in woorden, 442)).⁴⁴

We may wonder what is more inaccurate, to diminish the events to a plain ‘etcetera’ or to reduce the rape to an individual female experience. The ‘etcetera’ expresses that we all understand what will happen when a girl visits a boy in his bedroom, which implies that girls carry at least part of the blame if they nevertheless enter. In this way, the seemingly innocent and playful ‘etcetera’ subtly reinforces a rape myth.⁴⁵ Next, representing the rape as the individual female experience of the events expresses a distrust at the validity of that experience. This distrust perfectly corresponds to the widely acknowledged myth than women frequently lie about being assaulted and that their experiences are subjective.⁴⁶ Van Oostrom – no doubt unintentionally – appears to have fallen prone to these myths, as he describes the assault in a pleasantly subtle, but nevertheless trivializing manner. In my view, this example demonstrates that rape myths are both pervasive and persistent: they are in all of us, and their presence is not an indication of a lack of scholarly quality per se.

Admittedly, most scholars who have been working on ‘Lanseloet’ did not aim to contribute to a more profound understanding of the ways in which the play revolves around a rape case. Nevertheless – or perhaps precisely because this has not been their main intention – in the debate that has been going on over the past decades several rape myths can be identified. On itself, this is hardly surprising, given rape myths’ pervasiveness and involuntary workings. It must therefore be stressed that my present analysis is still inevitably influenced by current rape myths or other common misbeliefs. All studies cited in this article are valuable contributions to our field of research, of excellent quality, and written by excellent scholars. I will therefore not argue that these studies are insufficiently based on textual analysis, nor do I pretend my own analysis to be morally superior. Instead, I wish to discuss three specific cases in which rape myths may have affected our analysis of the Middle Dutch text, in order to come to a better understanding of both ‘Lanseloet’ and our manner of discussion sexual violence in literature.

Before moving on to three more examples to clarify what I mean, it is useful to introduce the so-called ‘real rape’-stereotype, outlined by Susan Estrich in the late eighties.⁴⁷ According to this stereotype, rape is typically ‘perpetrated by a stranger in an outdoor or public place using physical force and violence that the victim-survivor actively attempts to resist.’⁴⁸ This stereotype continues to prevail in our culture, even though there is a mass of research that shows that most perpetrators of rape are known to the victim-survivor.⁴⁹ Nevertheless, this stereotype is still recognizable in several rape myths and therefore it still influences our involuntary thoughts and associations. Most noteworthy, the ‘real rape’-stereotype exemplifies that gender, status and space do not intersect in medieval narratives only, but also persist in current rape myths.

One relevant example concerns the first scene, the dialogue between Lanseloet and Sanderijn in his castle’s garden. Contrasting the enclosed garden to the dangerous, wild forest where she meets the nameless knight, Ramakers states that Sanderijn is safe there.⁵⁰ However, as I have argued above, in my view it is evident from the text that the garden is not a safe space at all. The opposition with the forest is therefore false. Rather than assuming that previous scholars misread the text, I would like to suggest that the thought of such an opposition was unconsciously sparked by the ‘real rape’- stereotype. As rape is believed to be typically perpetrated by a stranger in the wild or dark outdoors, we tend to think ourselves not at risk in the enclosed gardens of persons we hold dear to us. In this way, a rape myth may have prevented us from interpreting the narrative space in the first scene as a dramatic effect foretelling the assault.

A second example relates to Sanderijn’s monologue directly following the rape. Scholarly interpretations of this monologue seem to be guided by misunderstandings about the ways victim-survivors deal with their traumas and by false expectations for what a victim-survivor would do after being assaulted. For instance, both Ramakers and Sleiderink wonder at Sanderijn’s not making Lanseloet any reproof.⁵¹ As I have argued above, I do not entirely agree with this interpretation, as further on in the play the parable demonstrates that she does hold him responsible for his actions. Therefore, rather than a total lack of reproof, we are looking at a delay. This delay should not surprise us, for research demonstrates that most victims silently cooperate and only report or seek assistance weeks or months or years after the assault.⁵² However, our false expectation that victims will immediately try to escape and seek assistance – a well-known rape myth – seems to have narrowed our analytical scope, preventing us to include the later parable-scene in our interpretation of Sanderijn’s monologue.⁵³

A third example is that many scholars, in various ways, seem to avoid to fully acknowledge Lanseloet as a perpetrator. The traditional tragic hero-interpretation evokes our sympathy with the character.⁵⁴ Considering him a victim of his personal impulses and weaknesses, we cannot entirely blame him for his actions, which we find rather understandable given his situation. This sympathy is also recognizable in more recent interpretations, be it in a more subtle manner: several scholars make explicit mention of so-called mitigating circumstances for Lanseloet’s actions.⁵⁵ Some, like Besamusca, blame lovesickness. Others, like Lie and Ramakers, point the finger at Lanseloet’s mother: it was by her doing that he abused Sanderijn.

However, as I argued above, the ‘amor hereos’-interpretation cannot exonerate our hero entirely. Also, Sanderijn in the long run does not blame the queen and being an accomplice does not equal being a perpetrator. Additionally, Lanseloet willingly agrees to his mother’s plan, and in the final scene he himself recognizes his responsibility for the course of events, revealed to him through the parable. In short, the text does not provide us with unambiguous evidence to exonerate Lanseloet, but it does provide us with sufficient information to think him a rapist.

I therefore suspect that our brain involuntarily refutes the identification of a sympathetic public figure – a Dutch literary hero, a prince, a sincere admirer of the fair Sanderijn, someone facing a cruel dilemma – with a crime as vile as rape. After all, it is a common myth that good men do not rape. Perpetrators are believed to be deviant others, like strangers, or men belonging to minority groups. In reality, however, most perpetrators are known or even very close to their victims, just as Lanseloet is close and attached to Sanderijn.⁵⁶ In this way, Lanseloet continues to fascinate us, precisely because we struggle to make out his character. Once we fully acknowledge all of Lanseloet’s identities, both good and bad, new research opportunities will arise, such as insights offered by the newly developed field of perpetrator studies.

Conclusion

The case of sexual violence staged in ‘Lanseloet van Denemerken’ is no whodunnit. It is impossible to rationally pinpoint one clear culprit. Instead, the events are driven by multiple complex factors, all contributing to an unsafe situation in which sexual violence can take place. On medieval story level, gender, social status and narrative space intersect in the construction of this unsafety. On the level of scholarly publications, some influence can be attributed to present-day rape myths, in which gender, status and narrative space also feature prominently.

The main problem to be identified here is, off course, that we genuinely aim for our observations and conclusions to be the result of honest and detailed textual analysis, whereas in reality, how we understand a certain text is guided by our cultural background. We always bring our modern selves to the table. This involuntary cognitive mechanism is not a flaw. Rather, it is the very reason behind ‘Lanseloet’’s lasting popularity: throughout the ages we continue to discover new meanings in the play. Even so, it poses a real challenge, for it is extremely difficult to determine the exact influence of rape myths on our scholarly work. Therefore, I hope to have demonstrated certain risks and pitfalls associated with the study of representations of sexual violence for the benefit of future research.

Avoiding these pitfalls is not an individual job, but a shared scholarly responsibility. It can only be realized through open discussion and continuous self-reflection. Personally and at this moment of writing, I believe our scholarly community of Middle Dutch literary studies more than sufficiently strong, tolerant, welcoming and collaborative to foster these processes in a fruitful manner, and I am looking forward to future conversations. To further the scholarly debate on literary cases of sexual violence in a valuable manner, we must be prepared to meet with the sexist within us.

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Additional information

Notes on contributors

Cécile de Morrée

Cécile de Morrée is an assistant professor in Middle Dutch Literature at Radboud University. She has published extensively on medieval literature, specializing in song and performance culture in the Low Countries. Her research themes include gender, spirituality, orality, book history and manuscript culture and cover literature in Middle Dutch, Middle French and Middle German. In her work, she is always committed to analysing Middle Dutch literature as part of European traditions, regarding both medieval cultures and modern scholarly communities and paradigms. To this aim, with a small group of international scholars, she established a Song Studies Network, aimed at the exchange of expertise for song research across all disciplines and eras. In addition to her scholarly work, she co-developed a professional training for educators of young children about recognizing and undoing gender stereotypes using children’s books and plays. She is also a trained singer, completing her research of medieval song with modern performance. In 2020, she was awarded a postdoctoral fellowship at the Herzog August Library in Wolfenbüttel for her transnational study of French and Dutch printed songbooks. For the sum of her work, she received the bi-annual Radboud Female Professor Network Award (2021). ORCID: https://orcid.org/0000-0002-6350-3591

Notes

1. Van Oostrom, Wereld in woorden, 439–454. For a general introduction of the abele spelen in English, see Van Dijk, ‘“Lanseloet van Denemerken”’, even though this study is now somewhat outdated.

2. Een abel spel, ed. Roemans and Van Assche, 44–45; Lanseloot van Denemerken, ed. Notermans, 9; Van Mierlo ‘Dramatisch conflict,’ 339–357.

3. Koekman, ‘Stilte rond Sanderijn,’ 20–34.

4. Een abel spel, ed. Roemans and Van Assche, 50–61; Lie, ‘Hoofse tekst of stadsliteratuur?’ 200; Van Oostrom, Wereld in woorden, 452–454. About the long life of the text, especially in print and in later editions, see: Hüsken and Schaars, ‘Zeeuws toneel’; Beckers, ‘Tekst voor alle tijden’; Goossens, ‘Iconografie’; Besamusca, ‘Kölner Drucke’.

5. Van Oostrom, Wereld in woorden, 452.

6. Koekman, ‘Stilte rond Sanderijn,’ 33–34. This view is adopted by Van Oostrom, Wereld in woorden, 442–452 and confirmed by Reynaert, ‘Literatuur en geschiedenis’, 236–239. The question whether Lanseloet or Sanderijn is the play’s true protagonist, has been a topic of debate almost continuously from the second half of the nineteenth century onwards (for an overview, see Een abel spel, ed. Roemans and Van Assche, 35–41).

7. Koekman, ‘Stilte rond Sanderijn,’ 21; Van Oostrom, Wereld in woorden, 442; Reynaert, ‘Literatuur en geschiedenis’, 236–239.

8. All quotes are cited from Lanseloet van Denemerken, ed. Van Dijk. All translations are my own.

9. Ramakers, ‘Woorden en daden,’ 55 points out that the prologue and epilogue focus on Lanseloet, not Sanderijn, and that their contents are closely related to Lanseloet’s monologues at the start and closing of the play (although the prologue and epilogue are later additions, the manuscript can be considered as evidence that the play was at some point performed in its current form, including both passages of text). Even so, I do not believe a narrator’s comment in the prologue and epilogue an impediment for an audience’s identification with Sanderijn. Even if the prologue and epilogue focus on Lanseloet, the spotlight is on Sanderijn at various other moments, throughout the actual play and she, too, speaks several dramatic monologues. Moreover, Sanderijn can be considered the lead role because she has the most lines of text in the script (Van Oostrom, Wereld in woorden, 443, reports that 236 out of 952 lines are spoken by Sanderijn).

10. Reynaert, ‘Literatuur en geschiedenis’, 236–239.

11. Lanseloet van Denemerken, ed. Leendertz, 7–8. See also the overviews in Van Mierlo, ‘Dramatisch conflict,’ 350, and Een abel spel, ed. Roemans and Van Assche, 49–50. Recently, this discussion was reinvigorated in several blog posts published on the platform Neerlandistiek.nl: Sleiderink, ‘Mirakel van Sanderijn: #MeToo’; Jongen, ‘Als een meisje ja zegt’; De Morrée, ‘Sanderijns weg naar erkenning’. Cf. Van Maris, ‘Ophef in de wetenschap’.

12. Besamusca, ‘Amor Hereos,’ 189. The idea that Lanseloet suffered from lovesickness was first suggested by Leendertz (Lanseloet van Denemerken, 7–8).

13. Lie, ‘Hoofse tekst of stadsliteratuur?’ 207; Ramakers, ‘Woorden en daden,’ 58; Sleiderink, ‘Mirakel van Sanderijn: Column’.

14. Lie, ‘Hoofse tekst of stadsliteratuur?’ 206–208.

15. See, for instance: Representing Rape; Sexual Violence and Rape in the Middle Ages; Gravdal, Ravishing maidens; Edwards, Afterlives of Rape; Harris, Obscene Pedagogies.

16. McCall, ‘Complexity of Intersectionality,’ 1771.

17. For a detailed discussion of this approach see McCall, ‘Complexity of Intersectionality,’ 1773: ‘This approach, intercategorical complexity, requires that scholars provisionally adopt existing analytical categories to document relationships of inequality among social groups and changing configurations of inequality along multiple and conflicting dimensions.’

18. Crenshaw, ‘Mapping the Margins.’ Intersectionality was used to analyse medieval identities by Betancourt, Byzantine Intersectionality and in the multi-authored volume Intersections of Gender, Religion and Ethnicity.

19. Compare, for example, the following studies on gender or status: Showing Status; Weikert and Woodacre, ‘Gender and Status’; Demets, ‘“Dattet gheen vrauwe werc en es”’; Lie, ‘Middelnederlandse literatuur vanuit genderperspectief’; Joldersma and Van der Poel, ‘Across the Threshold’; Paijmans et al., ‘Pathways to Agency.’ On narrative space see, for instance, Ryan, ‘Space.’

20. Crenshaw, ‘Demarginalizing the Intersection’

21. I prefer the word ‘status’ over the more modern ‘class’ because it fits in better with the various relevant shades and social situations connected to medieval culture. Cf. Showing Status.

22. Ward, Women in medieval Europe, 1–13.

23. See also Klein, ‘“Wt vercoren sanderijn … ,”’ 17–19, whose linguistic analysis confirms the unequal relationship between Lanseloet and Sanderijn: while he calls her by her first name, she politely continues to call him ‘lord’ (‘here’).

24. Gravdal, Ravishing maidens, 104–121; Harris, ‘Rape Narratives’; Gravdal, ‘Camouflaging Rape.’

25. The Van Hulthem manuscript includes many texts about (courtly) love that present lovers who differ in status or that convey sympathy for the lower ranks. In these texts, the lower ranks usually refer to the higher-class burghers or lower aristocracy, which corresponds to the class Sanderijn belongs to (Van Oostrom, Wereld in woorden, 420–454).

26. Koekman proposes a different interpretation of these verses. According to her, the ‘yuweel’ (jewel) Lanseloet offers Sanderijn must be understood as a sexual metaphor for his penis. I agree with Besamusca (‘Amor Hereos,’ 192) that understanding the word as an implicit sexual reference is both unnecessary and illogical.

27. The literary tradition of high-status males raping lower-status women is more elaborate than the examples cited in this article and much more work remains to be done to unravel this tradition. Most famously, in the twelfth century, Andreas Cappellanus wrote an influential treatise on love (De Arte Honesti Amandi) in which he declared that men of high rank are allowed to grab and ravish lower-status women. This work was translated and read all over Europe throughout the Middle Ages. However, scholars disagree on the question whether his words should be taken seriously or with irony. In any case, it would appear to me that given the work’s elaborate transmission, its contents must have been taken seriously at some point by at least some readers and that works like De Artes Honesti Amandi either intentionally or unintentionally added to the idea that masculinity and rank justify oppression.

28. Here, I disagree with Ramakers, ‘Woorden en daden,’ 59, who argues that Sanderijn agrees to visit Lanseloet because his mother convincingly pretends grief and despair over her son’s health. He sees Sanderijn’s worrying that Lanseloet might succumb to his illness as her main motivation to enter his room and he mentions her obligation of obedience only as an additional factor. See also Klein ‘“Wt vercoren sanderijn … ,”’ 19–20: the inequality between Sanderijn and the queen is reflected in their mutual form of address.

29. Ramakers, ‘Woorden en daden,’ 56–61; Lie, ‘Hoofse tekst of stadsliteratuur?’ 208; Duinhoven, ‘De bron van Lanseloet,’264–265.

30. Harris, ‘Rape Narratives’; Joldersma and Van der Poel, ‘Across the Threshold.’ Additionally, Lie’s interpretation, in which the mother instructs Lanseloet according to contemporary love advice, may serve to support the mother’s pedagogical authority (Lie, ‘Hoofse tekst of stadsliteratuur?’ 206–208). The mother’s force is also underlined by Ramakers, ‘Woorden en daden,’ 56–58.

31. Such mothers feature in, for instance, the Antwerp Songbook (1544), e.g. song no. 63.

32. Ward, Women in medieval Europe, 1–13; Zemon Davis, ‘Women on Top.’

33. We may assume the garden is part of Lanseloet’s castle (Lanseloet van Denemerken, ed. Van Dijk, note 3).

34. Gravdal, Ravishing maidens, 122–140; Dunn, Stolen women; Broers and Jacobs, ‘“Hoe men procederen sal”.’

35. Definition quoted from Lonsway and Fitzgerald, ‘Rape Myths,’ 133–134.

36. Lonsway and Fitzgerald, ‘Rape Myths,’ 134–135.

37. Lonsway and Fitzgerald, ‘Rape Myths,’; Daly, Rape, Gender and Class; Santo et al., ‘A space to resist.’

38. The term ‘rape myths’ was first introduced by Burt, ‘Cultural myths’

39. Daly, Rape, Gender and Class, 16. As Daly rightly points out, ‘this change to subtlety over time has also been observed with sexism more generally, as well as racism.’

40. Lanseloet van Denemerken, ed. Leendertz, 7–8; Van Mierlo, ‘Dramatisch conflict,’ 350.

41. ‘ghewelt’ (ll. 330) is to be understood as ‘power’, not as physical force, compare editions by Van Dijk, by Roemans and Van Assche, by Notermans, and many others.

42. Daly, Rape, Gender and Class, 20–21; Möller, Söndergaard and Helström, ‘Tonic immobility.’

43. Van Mierlo, ‘Dramatisch conflict,’ 350.

44. Later on in the same chapter, Van Oostrom chose his words more carefully, referring to the rape as her being ‘dominated’ (‘overweldiging’) and ‘abused’ (‘misbruikt’).

45. Daly, Rape, Gender and Class, 17.

46. Daly, Rape, Gender and Class, 17; Lonsway and Fitzgerald, ‘Rape Myths,’ 135.

47. Estrich, Real rape.

48. Daly, Rape, Gender and Class, 16.

49. Ibid.

50. ‘(…) ze zich in de beslotenheid van de Bogaert (vs. 53) veilig mag wanen’ (Ramakers, ‘Woorden en daden,’ 66).

51. Ramakers, ‘Woorden en daden,’ 56–58; Sleiderink, ‘Mirakel van Sanderijn: Column.’

52. Daly, Rape, Gender and Class, 39–43; Möller, Söndergaard and Helström, ‘Tonic immobility.’

53. Ibid.

54. See note 2. This interpretation seems to be on the wane with Joris Reynaert’s recent characterization of Lanseloet as an ‘anti-hero’, who is outshined by Sanderijn. Reynaert, ‘Literatuur en geschiedenis,’ 236–239.

55. Ramakers, ‘Woorden en daden,’ 52; Sleiderink, ‘Mirakel van Sanderijn: Column.’; Lie, ‘Hoofse tekst of stadsliteratuur?’; Besamusca, ‘Amor Hereos.’ Van Oostrom summarizes his opinion as ‘Hij is veeleer een zwakke dan een foute man.’ (Van Oostrom, Wereld in woorden, 442).

56. Daly, Rape, Gender and Class, 90–93.