Sex and Power

Adulterous Women and Unsexed Wives:

The Relationship Between Sex and Power

 Roman, Medieval and Early Christian Thought Seminar, Freshman Year, May 2010

As would be expected of any text belonging to the medieval period of literature, the Lais of Marie de France and Chaucer’s The Merchant’s Tale and Prologue present female characters that are largely passive. This is because many among them are forced into submission by their controlling husbands, who suppress their ability to act by stifling their sexualities, rendering them unsexed and thus inert. However, these women are able to gain a measure of power by indulging in extramarital affairs. In committing adultery, they are allowed to express themselves sexually and actively participate in the act of sex. Thus these two texts demonstrate a strong correlation between sex and power.

It is not difficult to see why a controlling husband should want to desexualize his wife in an effort to control her person and force her into the role of an “ideal” wife. A woman’s sexuality, and her ability to enjoy or actively participate in the sexual act, may call her chastity into question; certainly an ideal wife should be “chaste.” What is more, allowing a wife to express herself sexually with her husband allows her a degree of power that poses a threat to the husband’s authority. Likewise, the stories of Marie and Chaucer describe several women whose sexualities have been stifled by their husbands.

Guigemar’s lover is a prime example of such a woman; she has been forced into submission and sexual celibacy by her controlling husband. Although young and beautiful, she is married to “a very aged man” (p 165, line 211), the lord of the ancient city at which Guigemar later arrives. Her youth and beauty causes her husband great unease. Being jealous and insecure due to his advanced age, he imprisons her in a “grove beneath the tower….enclosed all around” (p 165, lines 219-220) so that she may not cuckold him. He controls her by sealing her off from any man who would want to make love to her (he even castrates the priest that tends to her, to ensure that neither desires the other). Yet he never visits her himself; thus it can be easily deduced that he does not engage in sex with his own wife. Instead, in an effort to control her, he has forced her into complete celibacy. Sex is power; by depriving his wife of sex, he is able to deprive her of all power, and render her an unsexed possession rather than a human being capable of acting upon her sexual impulses. What is more, lovemaking is an action, and by preventing her from lovemaking, he prevents her from acting, reducing her to abject passiveness.

On the contrary, January, in Chaucer’s The Merchant’s Tale, does not abstain from sexual intercourse with his wife, May. He is quite glad to “[labor] until day [dawns]” (p 405, line 598), but he seems to be the only one actually involved in the sexual act. It is true that May is physically present, and it is her body that January “labors” over, so to speak, but she is wholly unresponsive to his kisses and even to his words. She does not actively participate in their lovemaking, and hence, at least within the confines of her marriage, she is unsexed. She simply “[obeys], whether it [is] agreeable to her or loathsome” (p 411, lines 717-718); this statement gives the reader cause to believe that she is entirely indifferent to January’s lovemaking. Even her husband does not seem to expect her to enjoy or contribute to the session; prior to it, he apologizes that he “must do [her] injury” (p 405, line 584). This is not surprising coming from a man who previously stated his intention to “take a young wife” (p 387, line 271) so that he “may ply warm wax with the hands” (p 383, line 186). Basically, an ideal wife for him is akin to wax: malleable and capable of submitting to her husband’s every whim. Another aspect of wax, however, is that, once it has solidified, it is hard and unyielding, just as May, once she is married to January, is frigid, unyielding, and unresponsive in the face of his sexual ardor. This does not trouble January because it fits with his concept of the perfect wife: if May responded to his sexual advances, rather than just inertly submitting herself to be used by him, she would be acting; she would not be the passive wife that January wants her to be. Like the lord in Guigemar, he prefers a wife that is a passive, unsexed possession, an object like wax, over a woman that is a human being, capable of acting and participating in sex.

Thus it is evident that the men in these stories curb their wives’ abilities to express themselves sexually in an effort to control them, and force them into submission. This is evident even in the case of Guigemar’s lover. Indeed, for a time she gains a measure of freedom and power through her sexual affair with Guigemar, but as soon as she submits to him with the promise of a life-long commitment (which is tantamount to marriage), she is stripped of her ability to express herself sexually. Before they are separated, Guigemar, in response to her vow of commitment to him, leaves her with a “belt that she would wear next to her bare flesh, tightened about her flanks” (p 174, lines 569-571). This belt is literally attached to the lady’s body, and, like a chastity belt, prevents Meriaduc from engaging in sexual intercourse with her later on in the text. What is more, since Guigemar is the only one who can untie the belt, his lover cannot break free of this bond even if she desires to. Soon afterwards, their affair is discovered, and Guigemar and his lover are torn apart by her jealous husband, who then imprisons her yet again. Bound by both Guigemar’s belt and the prison into which the lord has placed her, the lady is prevented from having any sexual contact whatsoever. She is once again forced into a state of celibacy, thus reverting to her former state as a sexless, passive object incapable of action. She also becomes increasingly ill; her physical weakness demonstrates that she has been stripped of all her power.

The women in these texts are not allowed to express themselves, sexually or otherwise, within the confines of their marriages. Thus they turn to extramarital affairs, in which they are allowed to be sexually expressive, and actually participate in the act of lovemaking. Whereas May is unresponsive to her husband’s kisses, Guigemar’s lover is happy to “[kiss his mouth and eyes]” (p 173, lines 544), actively contributing to the sexual act. Guigemar and his lover “lie down together….kissing and embracing often” (p 173, lines 531-532); they both participate equally in the act, and, whereas May seems unimpressed with January’s “labors”, Guigemar and his lover both enjoy making love to one another.

Similarly, once presented with the opportunity to commit infidelity with the appropriately named Damian, the previously unsexed May suddenly develops a great desire for sex, albeit with her lover alone. This is made clear in the scene in which May leads January into the garden where Damian is waiting for her. She asks her husband to help fetch her one of the pears from the tree, having developed “so great an appetite for fruit” (p 431, lines 1092). What she means, of course, is that she has a great appetite for sex, and this is made especially clear since her lover is sitting in the tree with the very pears she claims to desire. As a result of her extramarital relationship, she is able to break the confines put on her sexuality by marriage and her controlling husband. Completely passive up until this point, she is finally able to take action, and successfully executes a rather complicated scheme to sleep with her lover- in a tree. She also manages to convince January that she is not cuckolding him (this is also the first time in the entire tale that we see her speaking, which also a sign that she has gained the power to act); thus she secures the freedom to continue cheating on her husband at no risk to her person.

Perhaps the most persuasive example of the connection between sex and power can be found in Marie’s Equitan. King Equitan and his seneschal’s wife begin a sexual affair; the former is attracted to the woman’s “attractive form and figure” (p 183, lines 33), the latter to the king’s power, status and great wealth. Thus the seneschal’s wife has sex with the king to gain his favor and some measure of influence over him.

Thus the wives’ newfound ability to act and make personal choices is demonstrative of the power they have obtained through extramarital sexual activity. What is most interesting, perhaps, is that each of them derives enough power to continue their affairs at no risk to themselves, and with no intervention from their husbands. May, as aforementioned, tricks January into sanctioning the affair. Equitan and his lover are able to continue their affair uninterrupted for a long time (it only ends when they are killed, as punishment for attempting to kill the seneschal). The lady in Guigemar goes as far as to secure a happily-ever-after with her illicit lover. In contrast, the adulterous wife in Laustic, who is unable to consummate her affair with the knight-next-door, does not gain the personal power that Guigemar’s lover, Equitan’s lover, and May do. As a result, she is never able to break free of her husband’s control; her husband soon puts a permanent end to the affair, and the wife is forced to retire to their bed, where she is, presumably, compelled to play her role as the submissive, sexually unresponsive wife for the rest of her life.

Thus women, who have been desexualized by their husbands and thus deprived of the ability to act, gain a measure of power through actively participating in extramarital sex. However, rather than being demonstrative of true female empowerment, this proves how oppressed women truly are, both inside and outside of marriage: the only way they can gain ‘power’ is by deviating from social norms, from committing an act so illicit that it is criticized to this day. A woman cannot gain power without deviating, because the essence of female empowerment is deviant, a challenge to the established gender hierarchy in society at the time. What is more, even when they indulge in sex outside of marriage in an effort to break free of marital confines, they still remain within the confines of patriarchy: they are able to attain power by having sex with other men, by tending to the sexual needs of men. Sex is indeed power, but the question is, are women empowering themselves through sexual expression, or are they, in effect, prostituting themselves, trading sex for power?