PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 Gender Disruption and the Quest for Female Agency in Madame d’Aulnoy’s La Princesse Printanière N ANCY A RENBERG (U NIVERSITY OF A RKANSAS ) At the close of the seventeenth century, French culture saw a significant rise in female textual production, as women were becoming increasingly successful in publishing their own literary works, especially in the genre of fairy tales. As many scholars have observed, women authors composed twothirds of the fairy tales published between 1697-1710, a period when the tale became a fashionable trend with readers. 1 Interestingly, the genre was not new to the Classical Age; the fairy tale originated in the oral peasant tradition in which an elderly woman is often portrayed telling a story to children to provide them with moral instruction. Most often, the plot consisted of a misdeed followed by a series of obstacles and adventures before there was reparation of the offense, prefiguring closure in the form of the happy ending. However, this infantilized formula was modified in the Parisian salons where many women writers enjoyed telling, listening to, and reading fairy tales. Although telling tales constituted part of the skill of aristocratic conversation, these sophisticated women soon began to translate their talent for telling stories into written form, as they engaged in the collaborative effort of creating their own adult fairy tales. The invention of these fairy tales was not only entertaining to the aristocratic audience but served to reaffirm their diminishing importance as a noble class. As Elizabeth Goldsmith explains, the closing years were especially difficult for the mondain class because their idealogy of sociability was shifting to an 1 Raymonde Robert and Harold Neemann offer a detailed history of fairy-tale production in France. See Raymonde Robert’s book, Le Conte de fees littéraires en France de la fin du XVII e à la fin du XVIII e siècle (Nancy: PU de Nancy, 1982) and Harold Neemann’s book, Piercing the Magic Veil: Toward a Theory of the Conte (Tübingen: Narr, 1999 [Biblio 17, 116]). Nancy Arenberg PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 370 emphasis on sincerity and individualism (35). Nevertheless, fairy-tale production enabled the conteuses to continue asserting their values and ideals of sociability by seeking refuge in the marvelous. Within this magical sphere, they harked back to an earlier heroic tradition found in gallant novels, whereby their exclusive class was depicted as predominantly influential. 2 But in sharp contrast to these heroic novels, the fairy tale focused on the resolution of the misdeed, the stimulating game of deciphering the moral, and the use of popular folklore set within the creation of a “elsewhere” or utopian space. Most importantly, these early modern conteuses were interested in exploring the emerging discovery of the self, while promoting the inherent superiority of their class in their tales. One of the most noteworthy contributors to this enchanting art of tale writing was Madame d’Aulnoy, who was responsible for launching the genre with the publication of the first French fairy tale in 1690 entitled L’Ile de la félicité, a narrative inserted in the body of her novel L’Histoire d’Hypolite. An overview of her work shows that she revised popular legends and composed original tales, deviating radically from the unadorned, innocent style of children’s fairy tales. Typically, d’Aulnoy and conteuses such as Mlle Bernard, Mlle Lhéritier and Mme de Murat composed longer texts, supplementing the plot with supernatural elements featuring luxurious palaces, enchanted forests, and sumptuously attired kings and queens. These were all familiar elements to aristocrats who recognized these aspects from chivalric, sentimental novels. Fairy-tale writers also attached a moral that was often discordant with the overall tenor of the tale, which appealed to an intellectual, discerning adult public eager to discuss the subtly veiled message. This essay will closely study Madame d’Aulnoy’s coming of age narrative in a fairy tale that has not received a lot of critical attention, La Princesse Printanière. Particular emphasis will be placed on how matriarchal alliances promote female agency in Princess Printanière’s transformation from a young adolescent into an empowered woman. At the same time, this discussion will delve into the interrelated question of gender disruption of traditional sexual identities, which is textually exemplified within the woodsy terrain of the island, an alternative space. To add dimension to this aspect of the tale, contemporary gender criticism will serve to broaden the analysis of sex role reversals in Madame d’Aulnoy’s work. As will be shown in the island part of the tale, the Princess crosses gender boundaries to 2 Lewis Seifert explores the significance of nostalgia for fairy-tale writers in Fairy Tales, Sexuality and Gender in France. 1690-1715: Nostalgic Utopias (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1996). Gender Disruption and the Quest for Female Agency PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 371 perform a masculine role but does not sacrifice her beauty or virtue. On the contrary, she fuses her ‘feminine’ timidness with active ‘masculine’ fortitude. This fascinating instance of gender reversals reveals that Madame d’Aulnoy was a most innovative writer for her times, as she was looking towards the future by envisioning a more modern role for women. Most notably, she reconfigured gender roles for women by creating heroines who subscribed to such pre-Enlightenment ideals as reason and independence, facilitating their quest for self-empowerment. Since Madame d’Aulnoy’s tale emphasizes action instead of character development, our analysis will examine a series of pivotal scenes that focus on the Princess’s transformation, as she embarks on a quest, leading to the discovery of her own agency. But before looking at the tale, it is useful to briefly revisit the sociopolitical situation of female writers and some overall cultural perceptions of women in the Classical Age. Although popular with readers, fairy-tale writing was considered a minor literary genre, one that ostensibly escaped attracting male criticism since it was considered a harmless ‘feminine’ creative activity. For women writers who were freed from the confines of censorship, the tale was most conducive to experimentation because of its marginalized literary position. Writing within the fictional space of “somewhere” or “once upon a time,” women tale writers capitalized on the inferior reputation of the tale to freely instigate such changes as revising the portrayal of the chivalrous hero and the fragile heroine. Madame d’Aulnoy abandoned the tradition of including the valiant, handsome male hero who comes to the aid of the beautiful victimized heroine, modernizing the text with active, independent females who play an integral role in the creation of a feminocentric narrative. On the socio-political level, the conteuses were quietly contesting the dominant cultural portrayal of women predicated on the widespread belief that a female was predestined to domestic confinement. In her husband’s home, she was expected to carry out her procreative function and subsequently become an adept mother. 3 But, in the fictional world of d’Aulnoy’s fairy tales, women frequently escape the imprisoning space of the home where they are the object of masculine protection. In fact, feminine protagonists often demonstrate resistance to patriarchal authority. 3 Patricia Hannon’s work on the fairy tale provides a detailed socio-political, cultural explanation of the domestic role assigned to women in the seventeenth century. See Hannon’s book, Fabulous Identities: Women’s Fairy Tales in Seventeenth- Century France (Amsterdam & Atlanta: Rodopi, 1998). For more information on feminine roles, gender, and motherhood, see Lewis Seifert’s book, Fairy Tales, Sexuality and Gender in France. 1690-1715: Nostalgic Utopias (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1996) 13-18 & 177-188. Nancy Arenberg PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 372 In many tales, feminine characters attempt to make their own choices; thus they are not objects of masculine power but subjects who play a fundamental role in shaping their destinies as “reasonable” individuals. 4 As Patricia Hannon notes, “Aulnoy’s enchanted bodies become a theater for self-discovery as well as a conduit for knowledge” (79). It is through this fictional portrayal of the valiant heroine that Madame d’Aulnoy demonstrates her belief in a more liberal notion of woman’s role in society, a perspective she can espouse as a privileged aristocrat. Indeed, the Princess’s harrowing experiences on the path to becoming a woman reveal that the author widens the gender boundaries by deviating radically from the traditional passive role assigned to female characters. In this tale, Madame d’Aulnoy’s heroine takes action as an individual capable of formulating her own thoughts on the most profound experience for a well-bred woman of leisure: love. The opening pages of La Princesse Printanière show a variation on a familiar theme, where the singularity of the protagonist, the Princess, is underscored by the unusual circumstances of her birth to a mother who had suffered the loss of her previous children. The happiness of the birth of the Princess is, however, diminished by the ominous presence of the wicked fairy, Carabosse, angry because she is not chosen as one of the infant’s wet nurses. Even though Madame d’Aulnoy follows the traditional formula of introducing the good and bad characters at the onset of the narrative, she highlights their moral differences through the representation of their bodies before the insertion of dialogue. In this way, the author establishes a striking opposition between the good female body image and the bad one. For instance, the Queen and her baby are traditionally beautiful, graceful females, whereas the evil Carabosse has a monstrous body, grotesquely misshapen. In sharp contrast to the Queen’s elegant entourage, Carabosse appears as “une laideron qui avait les pieds de travers, les genoux sous le menton, une grosse bosse, les yeux louches & la peau plus noire que de l’encre” (160). She wastes no time in casting an evil spell on the baby girl, cursing her with bad luck until she reaches the age of twenty. Madame d’Aulnoy sustains the dramatic tension by amplifying the forces of good, represented by a group of five fairies who witness Carabosse’s curse. The first textual example of an influential community of women is shown by the gathering of the good fairies from across the kingdom, who come to offer 4 Michèle Farrell’s reading of d’Aulnoy’s tales focuses on the writer’s interest in woman’s place in society, feminine desire and the project to subtly restructure the patriarchal order, which was predicated on the ideology of women as the object of men’s desire. See her article, “Celebration and Repression of Feminine Desire in Mme d’Aulnoy’s Fairy Tale: La Chatte Blanche,” Esprit Créateur 29.3 (1989). Gender Disruption and the Quest for Female Agency PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 373 advice and wisdom to the royal couple. In accordance with the fairies’ suggestions, the Princess’s father constructs a tower room without windows where the Princess must remain until she turns twenty. However, this enclosed space is not depicted as a stagnant site of confinement; it, in fact, bustles with activity. In the tower, the young child is surrounded by several attentive, nurturing females. Her nurses and maids comprise an effectual group entrusted with her welfare and education, consisting of discussions about the world as well as the study of such traditional ‘male’ subjects as “les sciences les plus difficiles” (163). The Princess easily masters these challenging, ‘masculine’ areas of knowledge. It is strikingly evident, even at this early point in the narrative, that the young girl does not follow a common trend in male-authored fairy tales, whereby the female protagonist is often severely lacking in intelligence. On the contrary, she profits from her education from her female mentors, as she discretely devises a plan to establish contact with the outside world. It is possible that the author depicts her as an inquisitive child as a way of charting the passage from a little girl, the innocent target of an evil curse, to a more mature young woman, as she evolves into a more adventurous adolescent who seeks independence. The coming of age narrative is textually amplified by her parents’ search to find her a suitable husband as the Princess approaches her twentieth birthday. The news that she is to wed King Merlin’s son, her chosen husband, brings great joy to the kingdom but increases the Princess’s desire to break out of her tower prison. The Princess’s wish to view the world outside her prison inspires her to transgress her father’s command to remain in the tower for another four days. She launches into a convincing histrionic performance, threatening to take her own life if her maids don’t construct a hole in the wall so she can observe the messenger’s arrival in the kingdom. As part of the Princess’s arsenal of weapons, tears serve as a persuasive tactic to sway her reluctant maids. Here, Madame d’Aulnoy alters the traditional representation of feminine tears. In this scene, they do not signify feminine weakness or emotion, a replacement for women’s dialogue seen in many novels and plays of the day. On the contrary, the flow of tears constitutes a useful, clever strategy for the Princess to conceal her real goal - liberation from her nurses. But it is the promise of true freedom that motivates her to confront the daunting challenge of escape. The first time the Princess sees daylight marks the transition from imprisonment to liberty, as well as from child to nubile young woman of marriageable age. On a structural level, the Princess’s movement from the inside to the outside also introduces the primary plot line, revolving around a revised love theme found in popular sentimental novels. As soon as the Nancy Arenberg PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 374 Princess’s gaze falls upon the King’s messenger, Fanfarinet, she is immediately enamored by his captivating appearance: Printanière à cette vue se sentit si hors d’elle qu’elle n’en pouvait plus &, après y avoir un peu pensé, elle jura qu’elle n’aurait point d’autre mari que le beau Fanfarinet, qu’il n’y avait aucune apparence que son maître fût aussi aimable, qu’elle ne connaissait point l’ambition, que puisqu’elle avait bien vécu dans une tour, elle vivrait bien, s’il le fallait, dans quelque château à la campagne avec lui. (166) As noted in the passage, the magnetic effect of love at first sight is underscored but is also a common characteristic of many fairy tales. However, the Princess’s inexperience in the world makes her especially susceptible to love. Her innocence causes her to fall for the first man she sees, and she is deceived by the man’s external beauty, which disguises the fact that he is not of her class. Moreover, Madame d’Aulnoy complicates the unfolding intrigue by interweaving a sinister element into the pivotal parade scene, focusing on Printanière’s walk through the streets to the palace. Suddenly, she hears the cries of crows and other eerie birds, announcing a downpour, which also signals a shift in the tone and atmosphere of the tale. Most notably, an especially vicious owl throws “une écharpe de toile d’araignée, brodée d’ailes de chauve-souris” (167) on the girl’s shoulders, irrevocably altering the joyous events of the day. Before the owl retreats, the cackling sound of laughter not only heightens the young girl’s fear but also suggests that the deed is the work of the evil fairy: “c’était là une mauvaise plaisanterie de Carabosse” (167). Here, the Princess’s inability to extricate herself from the black garment has further textual implications in which the reader must decipher the symbolic meaning of the hideous wrap, Carabosse’s shawl. The placing of the garment on the Princess’s shoulders can be read as another form of imprisonment, for the Princess cannot escape the evil curse of Carabosse. Thus, the young woman’s sense of freedom is essentially an illusion. In this scene, Madame d’Aulnoy amplifies the drama of her protagonist’s personal predicament, which is articulated by the crowd’s emotional reaction. Like a chorus in a Greek tragedy, they shed tears, creating a resonating echo in harmony with the torrents of rain created by Carabosse to ruin the day. To read this symbolically, the abundance of liquid imagery suggests that the people in the kingdom mourn the fate of their beloved Princess. The ensuing episode highlights the writer’s talent for countering the more somber aspects of the tale with a brighter ambiance, shifting the focus to the drama of the “good” characters. As noted earlier, the Princess did not hesitate to defy her father’s edict and her maids’ wisdom by breaking out of her room before she reached the age of twenty. To this transgression of Gender Disruption and the Quest for Female Agency PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 375 patriarchal authority and the curse of the bad fairy, she adds another subversive element: the ability to voice an opinion. It is her decisive nature that enables her to progress along the path, enabling her to become an empowered woman. Without hesitation, she defies her parents’ choice of a husband by declaring to Fanfarinet that she will pursue her own happiness: J’ai regretté que vous vinssiez ici pour un autre que pour vous. Nous ne laisserons pas, si vous avez autant de courage que moi, d’y trouver du remède. Au lieu de vous épouser au nom de votre maître, je vous épouserai au vôtre. Je sais que vous n’êtes pas prince, vous me plaisez autant que si vous l’étiez. Nous nous sauverons ensemble dans quelque coin du monde. (169) Although this passage smacks of an innocent young girl smitten by her first love, it also accentuates her determination to obtain her man at any cost. But she is resourceful enough to conceal her intentions from her father by agreeing to marry King Merlin’s son. By appearing to acquiesce to her parents’ wishes, the Princess finds the freedom to construct a plan to run off with Fanfarinet. As noted above, it was not unusual for the conteuses to replace the traditional portrayal of the passive protagonist with surprisingly active heroines. Here, Madame d’Aulnoy focuses on the dynamic aspect of the young Princess, as she courageously plans a well-executed escape, which occurs after a festive evening when everyone is asleep at the palace. Before disappearing into the night with Fanfarinet, she takes her father’s sword and her mother’s headpiece. In the marvelous world of the fairy tale, magical objects play an important function, as will be revealed in the core part of the narrative that takes place on the Ile déserte des Ecureuils. Many of Madame d’Aulnoy’s tales contain island intrigues, but this one is noteworthy because the couple’s escape unexpectedly forces the Princess to rely on her own ability to physically and mentally survive on a remote island. Once again, the text digresses from the couple’s adventures by returning to the court intrigue. By alternating between the palace and the island, the author effectively sustains the tension between good and evil until the narrative reaches closure. In his dialogue with some of his subjects, the King is reminded by one of his noblemen that his willful daughter has violated Carabosse’s curse, as she was four days short of her twentieth birthday when she left the tower. Moreover, the nobleman adds, “elle regardait à tout moment Fanfarinet & qu’il la regardait aussi. Peut-être que l’Amour a fait là quelque tour de son métier” (173). Although d’Aulnoy alludes to the possibility of deception, she leaves room for her discerning readers to interpret, discuss and draw their own conclusions regarding the person(s) responsible for the “tour” or illusion played on their beloved Princess. Nancy Arenberg PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 376 While the atmosphere is strained at the palace, the Princess grapples with the challenge of sustaining herself on the island. This difficult task is complicated by the sudden change in Fanfarinet’s feelings towards the beautiful Princess. Before running off with her, he had sworn his love and obedience to her, but from the moment they arrive on the island he, in fact, violates his gallant promise to be her adoring suitor. Put to the test of survival, he quickly sheds his mask of the ardent lover, his desire to eat overshadowing his devotion to the Princess. As Fanfarinet states, “Quand vous seriez plus belle que l’Aurore, cela ne me suffirait pas, il faut de quoi se nourrir” (175). Here, he seems to turn into a devouring beast, a common character found in fairy tales. Although he does not experience actual metamorphosis into an animal, which was quite frequent in Madame d’Aulnoy’s tales, he loses his humanity and civility, thereby symbolically transforming himself into a predator, resembling Perrault’s wolf in Le Petit Chaperon Rouge. But the Princess remains constant in her feelings, she even overlooks the harsh tenor of his words. With courage, she sets off to look for food, which soon becomes her principal task in this daily struggle to survive with her cruel, selfish lover. Her decision to assuage Fanfarinet’s hunger signals the first role change on the island. She becomes more masculine than feminine by playing the hunter, embarking on the quest for food, whereas Fanfarinet abandons his gender role by forgetting that he is to honor, respect, and above all, protect the Princess. Madame d’Aulnoy reduces the tension between the Princess and Fanfarinet by shifting the reader’s attention to a description of the island’s lush landscape. To some extent, the imaginary Ile déserte des Ecureuils resembles a utopic space. According to Anne Duggan, Madame d’Aulnoy’s utopias are matriarchal territories in which women govern, thus are feminocentric spaces (200). In terms of location, Louis Marin explains that utopias are “situated beyond, elsewhere, in space and time” (69). Most importantly, d’Aulnoy’s fictional territory, exemplified by this remote island, represents an alternative space in which the author can deconstruct established gender roles by disrupting the polarizing binary, separating heroes from heroines. Marin also maintains that it is within this alternative space of utopian discourses that writers direct their focus towards the future. In radically disrupting traditionally gendered roles, Madame d’Aulnoy demonstrates that she, too was, anticipating the future, as she was a visionary writer who was redefining the conception of woman. In this tale, she revises traditional feminine passivity with more active character traits that are, at times, ostensibly virile. But most of all, she infuses her heroines with the cognitive capability to discover their own agency. To trace this development in the tale, there are other significant events that take place on the island, pointing Gender Disruption and the Quest for Female Agency PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 377 to a series of encounters that foster meaningful interactions with other feminine figures. Madame d’Aulnoy sets the stage for some matriarchal alliances to develop, enabling the Princess to move forward in discovering her own agency, enabling her to utilize her self-empowerment to become independent. Within the enchanted background of the forest, the author interpolates a series of supernatural forces and fantastic characters whose primary function is to assist the heroine. But before the Princess enters the magical space of this woodsy area, the voice of the author interrupts the narrative to issue a warning to women: “Voilà ce que c’est d’aimer les garçons. Il n’en arrive que des peines” (176). Through the character of the Princess, the writer conveys an important message to her feminine public, commenting on the danger of love which, in this context, is intensified by the class difference. Fanfarinet seems more morally reprehensible because he comes from a lower class, underscoring the fact that he is an unfit suitor for the Princess. In any case, he only creates suffering for the Princess. But the emphasis on pain is not only limited to the emotional strain of love, it physically characterizes the Princess’s struggle to find substantial sources of nourishment. Although she repeatedly fails in the pursuit of food, her resolve and fortitude grow, but Fanfarinet ostensibly exchanges identities with her, playing the passive feminine role to her more active masculine one. Once again, Madame d’Aulnoy seems to disrupt established sexual roles by reversing traditional gender traits. At the same time, the author blurs the gender boundaries, for the Princess vacillates between ‘manly’ activity and conventional feminine passivity, infused with emotion. For the Princess, the most painful moment is her increasing isolation, as Fanfarinet admits he could have easily relinquished their love. Once again, she gives in to tears, but the enchanting setting of the forest enables her to leave her misery behind. Her tears seem to assuage her pain, as she ventures forth on a more promising path. This sense of hope is achieved by the Princess’s pursuit of cultivating alliances with several magical fairies. Madame d’Aulnoy often alters the tone of the tale by shifting from the Princess’s despair to more spiritually uplifting scenes. For the Princess, the site of salvation lies within the enchanted forest, a place where she unexpectedly finds kinship. As Neemann observes, seventeenth-century tale writers often used auxiliaries defined as supernatural phenomena such as fairies, ogres, witches or animals (43-45). Since there are no boundaries or restrictions in the marvelous genre of the fairy tale, the author incorporates the use of innovative auxiliaries by introducing flowers and trees that talk to the Princess. These natural images are identified with the feminine because their ability to speak is revealed only to the Princess when she is alone in the forest. The first object to talk to her is a bush, adorned with Nancy Arenberg PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 378 white roses, that imparts words of wisdom to her: “qui aime s’expose aux derniers malheurs, pauvre princesse! Prends dans le creux de cet arbre un rayon de miel; mais ne sois assez simple pour en donner à Fanfarinet” (177). Once again, the voice of the author subtly slips into the text, as d’Aulnoy was known to have a pessimistic view of love, which is communicated to her feminine readers in the form of a warning regarding the nature of men’s inconstancy. Furthermore, the author constructs a marvelous community of ‘feminized’ figures who not only extend their help to the desperate princess but take on a mentoring role, teaching Printanière a lesson about men, love, and loyalty. Since the protagonist is evolving into a young woman, it is up to her to decipher the veiled message. It is within this imaginary space of the forest that these matriarchal alliances create a network, promoting social harmony among women. This communal aspect of d’Aulnoy’s utopic space recalls one of Marin’s general conceptions in his interpretation of Thomas More’s Utopia, highlighting humanism as a fundamental part of the social fabric of More’s fictional island. In Madame d’Aulnoy’s tale, Marin’s reference to humanism is exemplified, in part, by the textual emphasis on the creation of a feminine community, populated with influential matriarchal figures. To return to the Princess’s predicament in the forest, Madame d’Aulnoy adds intrigue to the plot by following the more traditional tale formula in which repetition is employed to emphasize that learning is achieved through trial and error. For example, the Princess disregards the advice of the bush, sharing the honey with Fanfarinet, who devours it all. The next supernatural auxiliary to speak to her is an oak tree, whose femininity is represented by its ability to lend its branches to her, expressing comfort and support. The oak tree ostensibly substitutes for the absent maternal figure, a role usually played by the good fairy in most tales. The textual presence of maternal imagery is reinforced by the milk offered by the oak tree, “Prends cette cruche de lait & la bois sans en donner une goutte à ton ingrat amant” (177). Once again, the Princess disregards the advice of the oak tree and gives all of the milk to Fanfarinet, but it is his selfishness that triggers an important self-revelation: Voilà une juste punition pour avoir quitté le roi & la reine, pour avoir aimé si inconsidérément un homme que je ne connaissais point, pour avoir fui avec lui sans me souvenir de mon rang ni des malheurs dont j’étais menacée par Carabosse. (178) Her awareness of the deceptive nature of love is experienced physically and emotionally. Most importantly, her reference to social position suggests that she holds herself responsible for choosing a man from the wrong class. Here, the voice of the author seems to intervene to reinforce the Princess’s Gender Disruption and the Quest for Female Agency PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 379 mistake, which is exemplified by her inability to fully grasp the complexity of their social differences. By acknowledging her error, she uses her powers of reason, thus demonstrating progression in the maturation process. As she again succumbs to tears, a nightingale sings a verse from Ovid. D’Aulnoy’s insertion of Ovid poetically describes the pain and illusion of love, an emotional experience that ultimately poisons the heart. Analogous to the nurturing function of the trees and flowers, the role of the nightingale is to empathize as well as to magically produce another source of sustenance. Like other supportive figures, the nightingale forms a bond with the Princess. Above all, these textual auxiliaries create an alliance whose most salient function is to offer guidance and wisdom to the Princess. Breaking the repetitive pattern of giving food to her lover, she listens to the mentoring figure, the nightingale, and devours the almonds and tarts all by herself. The result of her gourmandise signals a progression in the plot, provoking Fanfarinet to vent his anger by attempting to murder her. Madame d’Aulnoy interpolates the marvelous into the narrative again, providing a means to save the heroine. Printanière takes her mother’s headpiece, an object that has the power to render her invisible; thus his attempt to slay her is thwarted by the object’s protective function. As Bronwyn Reddan notes, magical objects play an important role in Madame d’Aulnoy’s fairy tales. Although the author’s heroines have limited power, marvelous objects tend to enhance female agency (198-199). Indeed, the Princess’s courage is uplifted by her arsenal of magical weapons, as she is forced to take an increasingly more masculine role to survive the horror on the island. The sudden discovery that they are not alone on the island places the Princess in a situation where she can demonstrate her fearless nature. Despite Fanfarinet’s selfish and violent behavior, she vows to protect him. Printanière’s active position here is reminiscent of audacious characters portrayed in chivalric romances that were written in the earlier part of the century. Among one of the most noteworthy heroic characters found in novels around the 1640s was the figure of the femme forte who espoused fortitude and virtue. As Ian Maclean explains, “the femme forte is attributed with ‘constance,’ ‘fidélité,’& ‘résolution’’ (86). She is also dynamic without sacrificing her inherent beauty. Interestingly, the portrayal of the Princess as a valiant femme forte is not an isolated occurrence in Madame d’Aulnoy’s texts; she is one of many representations of stalwart heroines found in women’s tales. It is the marvelous setting of the tale that allows for the creation of female characters as “femmes fortes,” which is also shown in other tales. In fact, there is a striking similarity between Printanière and the female protagonist in d’Aulnoy’s L’Oranger et l’Abeille. Here, Aimée, another Nancy Arenberg PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 380 shipwrecked Princess, lands on an uninhabited island in a storm as a baby and is raised by a family of hideous ogres. When a beautiful Prince washes up on shore many years later, she finds him and protects him, mainly because she never knows when her monstrous ‘parents’ may decide to eat him to satisfy their insatiable hunger. Aimée’s ongoing struggle for survival is highlighted by this textual display of her ‘masculine’ characteristics. She is even garbed in a tiger skin, equipped with a bow and arrows; her detailed knowledge of the forest and surrounding wild terrain of the island is akin to that of the huntress Diana, whom Aimée resembles in her penchant for hunting. It is she who provides food and shelter for the frightened Prince who, like Fanfarinet, is dependent on a woman for survival. For mondain readers, Aimée’s virile characterization evokes the fictional image of feminine warriors, the Amazones, found in heroic novels popular in the earlier part of the century. Although she does not wear combat attire on the island, the Princess mirrors Aimée’s fearless spirit in confronting perilous situations. Madame d’Aulnoy further develops this prototype of manly courage, as the Princess bravely walks into battle. Placing her lover behind her to protect him, she confronts the island intruders with a confident stride. Armed with her father’s sword and a stone that has the magical power to render her invisible, she succeeds in killing the enemy without their ever seeing her strike at them. For both Aimée and Printanière, the ability to play the role of an adept warrior shows that Madame d’Aulnoy’s conception of gender was not only innovative for her time but revolutionary. Hannon and Seifert have studied the implications of gender in Madame d’Aulnoy’s tales. As Seifert notes, gender roles in Madame d’Aulnoy’s tales are essentially of a performative nature; male and female characters tend to repeat and imitate prescribed sex roles. But it is the marvelous that allows for deviation from conventional gender assignments for heroes and heroines (138-140). In a similar way, Hannon underscores the transformation of the heroic body in which “the metamorphosed body becomes a theater for experimenting with alternative identities” (107). As many of her tales reveal, Madame d’Aulnoy often reverses gender assignments, enabling her heroines to play a dual gender role. Within the imaginary space of the marvelous, the author can freely expand the gender boundaries, permitting her characters to move back and forth between culturally defined feminine and masculine roles. The collapse of these boundaries unexpectedly points to a postmodern connection to Gilles Deleuze’s and Félix Guattari’s notion of becomings. 5 This 5 Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, trans. B. Masumi (Minneapolis: U of Minnesota, P, 1987). Gender Disruption and the Quest for Female Agency PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 381 term emphasizes flow, multiple sexualities, and, most of all, transformation. 6 In fact, Deleuze and Guattari believe in the deconstruction of fixed gendered identities. Within the space of the marvelous, this connection is buttressed by d’Aulnoy’s creation of a fluid transformation of female identity. Like Deleuze’s and Guattari’s viewpoint, gender is not fixed but in flux. Moreover, this alternative space is utopic, which, in turn, allows the author to rescript traditional gender roles. Judith Butler sheds light on this idea of lifting gender restraints: When the constructed status of gender is theorized as radically independent of sex, gender itself becomes a free-floating artifice, with the consequence that man and masculine might just as easily signify a female body as a male one and woman and feminine a male body as easily as a female one. (6) Perhaps the most noteworthy example of this gender reversibility is Printanière’s final virile action. After killing off their enemies, she faces her biggest threat: her lover’s rage, as he attempts to kill her. She is put to the test of relying on her own rationality and physical ability to survive his attack, but again the marvelous intervenes, reinforcing the importance of feminine alliances in this matriarchal zone. The intrigue of the narrative is heightened by the fortuitous appearance of a good fairy, an important matriarchal figure who whispers to her, “Sauve-toi, Printanière, car Fanfarinet veut te tuer & te manger” (180). Even though he has stolen one of her magical objects, she grabs her father’s sword, signifying a transfer of phallic power, and brutally stabs him in the eye. The fatal blow seems to correct her initial deception, when she was blinded by the illusion of falling in love with him. Above all, it is her powerful words that highlight the pivotal moment of transformation, moving her forward in the direction of discovering her own agency: Va, ingrat, s’écria-t-elle, reçois cette dernière faveur comme celle que tu as le mieux méritée; sers à l’avenir d’exemple aux perfides amants, & que ton cœur déloyal ne jouisse d’aucun repos. (180) Through the heroine, the writer speaks to her feminine audience, issuing another warning about the inconstancy of men. Although the feminist message is evident, the Princess uses her reason to learn the lesson on her own with the guidance of some key ‘feminized’ figures: the flowers, trees, and good fairy that form an influential community, assuring the young woman’s survival. 6 See Rosi Braidotti’s article, “Becoming Woman: or Sexual Difference Revisited,” Theory, Culture & Society 20.3 (2003) 47-50. Nancy Arenberg PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 382 The conclusion of the narrative follows the conventional formula of resolving loose plot lines to reestablish order. Most notably, the Princess learns the identity of the good fairy who was the mysterious fifth one that was impeded from blessing her birth by the intrusion of Carabosse. Interestingly, she, too, engages in a spectacular, marvelous battle between Carabosse’s ugly, bestial accomplices and her skilled soldiers, who are more refined animals. It is her defeat of Carabosse’s monstrous entourage that liberates Printanière from the vestiges of the curse, signaling closure of the narrative. Although the Princess reenters the patriarchal order by marrying the “good” man, King Merlin’s son, she has nonetheless evolved from a naïve girl, blinded by illusion, to a more self-empowered, discerning young woman who has learned a valuable lesson about man’s disloyal nature; she is thus ready for marriage. At the same time, she embraces her aristocratic identity by rejoining her class and acquiescing to an appropriate marriage. But it is the moral at the end that contains a universal philosophical message directed to all women: A quelque choix qu’Amour nous puisse assujettir, Des règles du devoir on ne doit point sortir; Et malgré le penchant qui souvent nous entraîne, Je veux que la raison soit toujours souveraine: Que toujours maîtresse du cœur, Elle règle à son gré nos vœux & notre ardeur. (184) Privileging reason over love, the author interpolates another gendered message into the body of the text, but it is not embedded within the fictional world of the marvelous. Rather, she speaks directly to her feminine readers, subverting the idea that reason is not only equated with the ‘logical’ sex, men, following the widespread cultural belief of her times. On the contrary, reason is souveraine, as it is an intellectual faculty also available to women. Moreover, Madame d’Aulnoy insists on the importance of reason by placing it in the context of love’s adversity. Indirectly, she reminds the reader of the Princess’s harrowing experience in which she was forced to use her rationality to cope with the physical and emotional hardships of survival. The author suggests that a woman should never allow matters of the heart to usurp her powers of reason. The idea that reason can regulate emotions points to a Cartesian influence, subtly woven into the fabric of the narrative. In the Classical Age, salon women were intrigued by Descarte’s universalism, stipulating that the mind had no sex. As Erica Harth observes, “his rules and method for discovering truth could be used by anyone, of either sex” (3). For salon women, this belief in reason represented the hope of valorizing them as thinkers and even laid the initial groundwork for a feminist project in which female writers would create Gender Disruption and the Quest for Female Agency PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 383 their own philosophy as recognized intellectuals. Above all, this notion anticipates the epistemological shift to Enlightenment ideology at the close of the century. Although the fairy tale was considered a minor genre, a close analysis of La Princesse Printanière reveals that the text offers a far richer reading than its literary reputation as a simplistic form of writing. Most notably, Madame d’Aulnoy and other conteuses were quietly subverting the domestic role imposed by society, as they were creating valiant heroines who disrupted traditional gender roles. In her tales, d’Aulnoy’s bold characters actively challenge the passive role assigned to women in their triumph over adversity, exemplified by the tendency to play an active role in the imaginary space of the fairy tale. From the author’s perspective, the idea of becoming a woman implies that a female possesses the cognitive capability to acquire her own agency and identity without a man’s aid. But to become selfempowered, d’Aulnoy emphasizes the importance of constructing a network of matriarchal alliances, which lead young women to the discovery of their own agency and independence. As shown here, d’Aulnoy’s protagonist uses her intellectual ability to reason so she can survive the tribulations of love and the hardships of life. This emphasis on rationality buttresses the notion that d’Aulnoy was setting the stage for a more complex representation of women as reasonable, philosophical thinkers, which would be explored in the eighteenth century, especially by women writers. As a visionary writer, Madame d’Aulnoy believed women could be as savantes as men, an integral part of her inherent feminist message. The mondain milieu of these fairy-tale writers is especially significant, as they, too, envisioned a space where gender constraints would be lifted, beyond the “somewhere” of the fairy tale. Within this idyllic space, women might, at long last, achieve that utopian dream of gender equality. Nancy Arenberg PFSCL XLVI, 91 (2019) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2019-0025 384 Works Cited Aulnoy, Marie-Catherine Le Jumel de Barneville, comtesse d’. Contes I: Les Contes de fées. Paris: Société des textes français modernes, 1997. Braidotti, Rosi. “Becoming Woman: or Sexual Difference Revisited.” Theory, Culture & Society, vol. 20, no. 3, 2003, pp. 43-64. Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. New York, London: Routledge, 1990. Deleuze, Gilles and Guattari, Félix. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Translated by B. Massumi. 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