Noir and the Femme

Film noir is an interesting genre and rather difficult to define. Without a concrete definition there are only lists of elements that can be attributed to noir films, and even then it quickly becomes evident that the genre elides categorization.

There is one particular element that I want to look at, the femme fatale. Actually, two, the femme in conjunction with the theme of alienation. In fact, if I was writing a post attempting to define the genre as best I could, the idea of alienation would conceivable serve as a connecting theme. I have yet to see noir without an overbearing sense of the “otherness” intrinsic in western culture – highlighted and exposed.

Alienation in noir typically unfolds for the protagonist and for the femme, and is often a common thread that brings them together; the protagonist must find escape from both of these in order to regain access to mainstream society. The leading male role will spend a large portion of the film discovering his alternatives: either find a means to reintegrate into society, or die (literally, or figuratively by slinking even further into the undesirable underground of the film).

The femme in this case is instrumental in the male’s development. He will either realize there is still something worth living for, and use the femme as a stepping stone to ascent into a proper role, after which she is discarded, or he becomes disgusted with himself and consequently her, unmasking her vile inner self, for which she must die. Either way, before the film ends, the femme must be punished for her existence. After all, the audience wants catharsis and her demise seems to provide just that. But why?

The first, most immediate, and not inaccurate response is that she dies due to her conduct. She is malicious, selfish, a thief, a liar, a manipulator, often times a murderer herself, and the list of her faults continues. She is the epitomized bad guy (or in her case, woman), living up to her namesake. So why shouldn’t the audience want to witness her demise?

Something just bothered me about this. It all added up, as in yes, in her current form the femme is deplorable, but it was still off. After tinkering for a bit I realized my next question: why was she created this way? The femme fatale’s lifestyle can be stripped of many of these vices and still maintain its integrity within the noir genre. In other words, the femme can still be bad (but in a forgivable way) without being evil. So why does her character have to transcend into absolute villainy?

The answer is not in her most wicked state, but rather dependent upon her other qualities. She embodies traits that men and women are afraid of. She is self serving, unafraid of pursuing her desires, unperturbed by societal norms and the fact that she adheres to none of them, and she seems to have no problem with selfish self gratification. Further she is attractive, intelligent, cunning, witty, and most importantly, autonomous. While these are extremely appealing traits, they are simultaneously terrifying. Men want her, and women want to be her. The majority of men cannot have her, and most women will secretly envy every aspect of her, wish they could embody even a fraction of her traits, but are too afraid to cross the line to ever even admit it. And so to kill her off on film deals a certain satisfaction to the viewer.

What all of the above can be summed up in, is alienation. She lives outside of prescribed norms, and even when outwardly functioning in society she subverts the rules to suit her own purposes. Most importantly, and dangerously, she draws others in. The male protagonist who will invariably be drawn to her is in danger of losing his constructed self. Just like the viewer, the protagonist has spent a lifetime building himself into a role which the femme can potentially corrupt and tear down. She is alienated as is he, but in the beginning he is only marginally so. As the plot progresses he degenerates with her. If he does not leave of his own volition and use his encounter with her as an experience to better himself, he either destroys her, is destroyed with her, or simply kills himself.

However, the above traits are not enough to justify killing her off, especially because so few will admit to any of the aforementioned feelings (going as far as to vehemently deny as much as giving her a second thought). The audience wants to see her suffer or die, but must also feel justified in wanting this. Directors like Huston, Wilder, and Truffaut (no name only a few) understood the delicate psychology involved, and when creating the character she doubly satisfies the viewer’s desire to see and briefly interact (even if only superficially through a screen) with such a creature, but then also watch her get destroyed. To validate this end result countless serious transgressions are heaped upon her – she becomes the femme fatale/criminal mastermind/murderess antagonist.

She is dehumanized through her abhorrent actions and her already existent alienation so that she may absorb all the qualities the viewer wants to eradicate from within themselves. The catharsis offered through her death is a purging of undesirable notions and wants that threaten the viewer’s society.

Her wickedness is no longer in the realm of ambiguity where her sins can be argued. She does’t just bend the rules, she demolishes them, and so the viewer can watch her die/disappear/suffer guilt free. That is why she was created this way.

 

The Game and Playe of the Chesse

Every time Sean comes home from grad school for a bit we have coffee and play chess. Last time was no exception, and somehow the conversation rolled around to the history of chess, specifically to the way it was played in the Middle Ages, and how the pieces differed (not just in appearance, but also movement).

Chess originated in India and through a series of moves ended up on Europe where it was widely played during the medieval period, resulting in the version of the game we have today.

First, chess is comprised of only six distinct pieces: pawns, rooks, knights, bishops, the queen, and the king. However, these pieces were for the most part created during the Middle Ages. Essentially the game was adapted from the east, but westernized to fit the purposes of those in the west – the new names and roles the pieces played were made to make sense to Europeans. One fact I found personally interesting was that there was no queen in the original game, but rather a male advisor figure was situated next to the king, evincing the important role queens played in western culture a thousand years ago. While the queen is the only female piece on the board, it is important to note she holds the most power and is allotted the most freedom of movement (with a caveat I will discuss shortly).

For those unfamiliar with the game, here is a brief outline what the pieces symbolize.

chessboard

Looking at just the white pieces at the bottom, A2 thru H2 are all pawns. Symbolically the pawns were thought to resemble the serfs or commoners of the land. However, a more accurate description of them I found was of the infantry. The reasoning behind this altered analysis of the pieces was due to the significance of serfs versus infantrymen. The former were thought to have value attached to the labor they conducted, while the latter were often no more than fodder during war. While the pawns in chess can be invaluable in certain situations they are often sacrificed in order to clear the board and are the first to be captured as they advance the lines (aside from the knights, no other pieces can move until the pawns are moved out of the way). The pawns move forward only one square at a time, and during the early Middle Ages this was always the case. They “take” pieces diagonally. In the fifteenth century, perhaps to move the game along faster, each pawn could move two spaces for their first move if the player wished them to and this rule remains today. Another invention for the game that came during this same time which concerned the pawns was the en passant that allowed pawns to capture pieces “as they passed.”

The rooks are the “castle” looking pieces at the corners of the board. They represented quite literary what their name implies – castles, home, or refuge. Much likes castles or fortresses, strategically they function best together. They can move vertically or horizontally across the board just like castles or fortresses had command over vast amounts of land. During the Middle Ages the castling move was invented which serves two purposes: it shields the king into a corner to be better defended, and allows the castles more freedom of movement, brining them closer together.

The knights are pretty self explanatory in terms of historic meaning. In the game, portrayed as horses they are the only piece that can jump over other pieces as they move in an L shape (two squares up and one to the side). Sean briefly mentioned that the knight at one point in history moved in a different form, but so far I have not been able to find anything on that.

Bishops were during the original game portrayed by elephants, thought to be dependable animals, and the piece could only move one square at a time. However, considering the role of the bishop as advisor, on the western chess board he sits closest to the royal couple. He moves unlimited spaces diagonally across his base color (one bishop always sits on white and the other on black). Between the two of them, they can influence a large amount of the board.

The queen is now one of the strongest pieces on the board being able to move in the same way as every other piece except the knight. However, this was not always the case. While in the original version of the game she didn’t even exist, in later versions shortly after her introduction her movements were limited (late fifteenth century).

The king is the piece around which the entire game centers. The objective is the render the king helpless by placing him in direct peril (check) without the ability of aide (mate). The king can move one square at a time in any direction. When the majority of the more powerful pieces are removed from the board, the king by himself can do little more than hop away one square at a time as the opposing pieces are closing in on him. It is really quite a pathetic spectacle, but I think it speaks volumes of the distinction between perceived and actual power (and personally each time this happens in a game I can’t help but recall Shakespeare’s Richard II).

One of the earliest sources of chess play in medieval Europe came from Versus de scachis, a latin poem that is thought to have been written before 1000. It exists in two copies, MS Einsidlensis 365 and MS Einsidlensis 309. The 98 line poem describe chess, it’s rules, and contains some basic strategies. 

Then, in 1283, Alfonso X of Castile commissioned Libros de los juegos, a book dedicated to various medieval games and their practices. This too discusses strategies and rules of the game.

Chess_BAL_79753_sm

(Biblioteca Monasterio del Escorial – depicted: Alfonso discussing a chess problem with other players).

chess1

(same MS)

In 1474 William Caxton published The Game and Playe of the Chesse, a book which has very little to do with the actual game of chess. It is in fact a translation of Jacobus de Cessolis’ Liber de moribus hominum et officiis nobilium ac popularium super ludo scachorum (The Book of the Morals of Men and the Duties of Nobles and Commoners, on the Game of Chess). Yet, while this book in either Latin or English has nothing to do with the game, it serves to demonstrate the influence society had on the game, and vice versa. Further, I think it shows why this game was so important among the nobility, who were, for political reasons constantly playing metaphorical chess. Hence the pieces that were switched out from the original version to reflect medieval concerns and relationship among pieces (members of court). While chess, strategy, and politics are all loosely tied in our modern minds and we have all heard the metaphors, during the Middle Ages these same connections were being forged, and I love the idea of chess, a newly acquired game slowly seeping into the world of stratagem outside the corners of the board. 

By the fourteenth and fifteenth century, chess had the same notoriety it has today and references to the game were hardly novel. One last example is from Chaucer’s Book of the Duchess in the Knight’s complaint about Fortune:

“For fals Fortune hath pleyd a game

Atte ches with me, allas the while.

The trayteresse fals and ful of gyle,

That al benoteth, and nothing halt,

She goth upright and yet she halt,

That baggeth foule nad loketh faire,

The dispitouse debonaire,

That skorneth many a creature!”

Here chess is not a game of strategy as a game of deceit. The Knight does not understand the ways in which Fortune works so he may only apply them in terms of his own earthly understanding and compares Fortune’s bidding to a game of chess, where Fortune wins through foul guile that scorns his human mind – she does not cheat, but moves pieces in ways he cannot perceive. He cannot comprehend that he is a part of a larger scheme and Fortune’s actions do not necessarily focus on him. Further, the Dreamer has difficulty looking beyond the chess metaphor to grasp the Knight’s loss, consoling him not on White’s death, but reminding him that he should not weep over a game. Tellingly, and unwittingly, the Dreamer actually pinpoints the exact shortcoming in comprehension on both their parts – life is little more than a game where everyone loses in the end.

While examples of chess in literature at this point abound, I wanted to end with showing you some lovely medieval chess sets.

NMS_lewis_01

(The Original Chessmen – National Museums Scotland)

Above are the Isle of Lewis Chessmen which were created at some point between 1150 and 1200. Here is more information on them if you wish.

Here is the Charlemagne Set (despite that Charlemagne apparently didn’t play chess). These are housed in the BnF, and are made of ivory (which I will refrain from commenting on).

charlemagne-set-r

As you can see artists of the Middle Ages took great pride in producing their chess sets, crafting them into the actual pieces they were meant to represent very much unlike the little plastic generic pieces we have today. This is not to say such fine sets do not exist today, but the idea of a hand crafted unique set, not mass produced is rare.

Which brings me to my last point, of how the pieces were represented in earlier times. I thought there would be a difference. But, while the sets depicted above (among others) are exquisite, I have found that not much has really changed in terms of their appearance. As the scope of chess playing has broadened and the game has become public fair the pieces have taken on a more generic shape that could be easily disseminated to the masses. However, these rare sets do exist. I have seen collector shops that sell beautiful chess sets comparable to those seen in museums (despite having been recently created). In short, the appearance of the pieces has not dramatically changed. At least not so much so that these pieces would be indistinguishable from each other.

So while chess has come a long way, the various changes it has undergone have not altered the scope of the game, and it continues (from the 6th century when it was first created in India) to act as a cerebral exercise in strategy on and off the game board.

Sources:

Adams, Jenny. Power Play: The Literature and Politics of Chess in the Late Middle Ages.

Davidson, Henry. A Short History of Chess.

Dwayne E. Carpenter, “Fickle Fortune: Gambling in Medieval Spain,”

Murray, Harold James. A History of Chess. 

Proctor, Robert. An Index to the Early Printed Books in the British Museum. 

 

The Things They Didn’t Carry: Female Materiality in the Middle Ages

ww2

This isn’t really a post per se, but rather an off shoot of my research which I stopped to explore only to find myself writing a paper. I am actually kind of pleased with how it turned out, but I am not sure what to do with it. Of course it needs more editing before I can even consider anything major, but as of right now I have nothing at school I can use it for and I can’t teach from it (at least not this semester). So, since it is just kind of sitting here I figured I would blog the abstract and hope for some feedback on the idea should anyone have any thoughts on it. Good? Needs work? I would love to hear what you think.

Much can be gleaned about a woman by rifling through her purse. Unfortunately such access is denied when a woman passed away over seven hundred years ago. While certain artifacts from the Middle Ages remain, the everyday lives of medieval women are often rebuilt piecemeal from whatever records are recovered from obscurity. However, the majority of the documents generally serve to uncover familial affiliations, or perhaps women’s relationships to books in the form of marginalia and even scribal transcription. Even though all of these facets are interesting to explore, another equally exciting fragment of women’s history can be found among their possessions, which here will be discussed in terms of their wills and testaments. Such research is not new to medieval studies, but has often focused on the manifests from manor houses and other notable women. Here the discussion will focus primarily, but not exclusively on women in Eastern Europe, and specifically those lesser known and with more modest possessions. By tracing their belongings in order of importance and examining those to whom these goods were left, a clearer portrait of the everyday medieval woman can be drawn. Even in cases where it is uncertain as to who wrote the will, purpose can be devised through close analysis of the catalog, along with the intended recipients. Moreover, this study can shed some light on the more trivial, but not less important aspects of existence where the endowment of a favorite dress, too ragged to be considered an asset is in fact found valuable enough to bestow upon another, and thus hinting at unsuspected forged friendships. One such example could be found in Elisabeta Blasiu from Oradea, in 1339, who bestowed her everyday cloak to the stonecutter’s daughter. First, the alliance between these two women from quite different socioeconomic classes raises several questions about female bonds, but also charity. Secondly, it allows a glimpse into the extent of detail many of these documents went into, accounting for every parcel of property, including the clothes these women were literally wearing at the time of creating their wills. Essentially this paper will explore the various manifestations of medieval women’s lives in the form of lists that enumerated their sundry possessions with an emphasis on the underlying significance of what these articles tell us today.