Papers on French Seventeenth Century Literature
pfscl
0343-0758
2941-086X
Narr Verlag Tübingen
121
2014
4181
A Mind of Her Own: La Princesse de Clèves and the Making of the Female Hero in Seventeenth-Century Womens’s Tragedy
121
2014
Theresa Varney Kennedy
pfscl41810365
PFSCL XLI, 81 (2014) A Mind of Her Own: La Princesse de Clèves and the Making of the Female Hero in Seventeenth-Century Women’s Tragedy T HERESA V ARNEY K ENNEDY (B AYLOR U NIVERSITY ) In his Lettres à Madame La Marquise, Valincour’s female interlocutor is surprised by the manner in which the Princess in Madame de Lafayette’s Princesse de Clèves (1678) expresses her intentions with an “order and tranquility that does not reveal the uneasiness that such a declaration always gives women.” 1 The Princess declares her passion while at the same time firmly pronouncing her decision to remove herself from society to pursue a more tranquil lifestyle. Though widely celebrated today, in the seventeenth century, not all viewed the Princess as an admirable heroine. In Lettres à Madame La Marquise, Valincour regards the Princess’ simultaneous admission of love and rejection of Nemours as invraisemblable, stating that the Princess should have asked Monsieur de Nemours to retire with her to her estate in the Pyrenees (121). Yet, the Princess doubted his ability to remain faithful to her, and refused to subject herself to an inevitable betrayal and loss of fortune. What makes the Princess stand out is her ability to rationalize her situation and renounce marriage to the Duc de Nemours, despite the love that she still feels for him. Acting independently of her male counterpart, the Princess reflected the ideals of salonnières, who believed that women had a right to “greater control over their own bodies” (DeJean 21). The Princess embodies the characteristics of a more complex, active heroine whose determination to follow through with her own line of reasoning enables her to determine the outcome of events. Heroines capable of rationalization were uncommon in seventeenthcentury works of literature, since in fact, women were traditionally disassociated with this type of thinking. Furetière defines the act of rationalization (or “le raisonnement”) as “l’acte de l’entendement par lequel on arrange les 1 See Valincour 119-120. The translation is my own. Theresa Varney Kennedy 366 preuves dans l’ordre où elles doivent être pour trouver la vérité, pour porter un jugement droit, & tirer une juste conclusion: opération de l’âme, par laquelle on distingue le bien du mal; la vérité de la fausseté.” Further, he states that “Les femmes se font un mérite de n’entrer pas dans de grands raisonnements” (Dictionnaire universel françois et latin 4: 1279). For Furetière, the pratice of rationalization is not just the internal search for the truth, but also the ability to vocalize it. Here, he specifically states that women who want to protect their reputations do well to avoid expressing themselves aloud. The Princess violates this code of conduct. In addition to expressing her thoughts openly, she allows “orderly” and rational thought to guide her emotions. In Discours de la méthode (1637), Descartes includes women in the category of those capable of using reason, 2 yet by the time that Madame de Lafayette wrote La Princesse de Clèves, her male counterparts still clung to Aristotle’s claim that women are naturally irrational, and that those who used their intellect usurped man’s natural authority. 3 In De la recherche de la vérité (1674-75), Malebranche sees women as having little mental capacity. 4 The ability to rationalize goes beyond the strength required to rise above one’s passions and submit blindly to one’s sense of duty. Reasoning is the ability to make one’s own choices based on one’s understanding of what is true or what is just—and to take a stand. Yet, for the salonnières, reasoning did not necessarily exclude the ability to feel or to consider one’s emotions. Erica Harth demonstrates that the salonnières contested Descartes’ dualism, which placed emphasis on the separation of body and soul, and seemed to “drain the thinking subject of all feeling and emotion,” reducing the body to “a mere machine” (82). Thus, it is not surprising that Madame de Lafayette’s Princess admits her feelings for the Duc de Nemours even though she chooses to give priority to her sense of honor. 2 See Descartes 14. The author states “je veux croire qu’elle [la raison] est tout entière en un chacun….” 3 See Politique d’Aristote 1: 27 in which the author specifically states that because of her natural lack of reason, a woman is meant to obey: “D’autre part, le rapport des sexes est analogue; l’un est supérieur à l’autre: celui-là est fait pour commander, et celui-ci, pour obéir.” 4 Malebranche 2: 191-92. “Elles [les femmes] sont incapables de pénétrer les vérités un peu difficiles à découvrir. Tout ce qui est abstrait leur est incompréhensible. Elles ne peuvent pas se servir de leur imagination pour développer des questions composées, et embarrassées. Elles ne considèrent que l’écorce des choses; et leur imagination n’a point assez de force et d’étendue pour en percer le fond, et pour en comparer toutes les parties sans se distraire. Une bagatelle est capable de les détourner.” La Princesse de Clèves and the Making of the Female Hero 367 In this study, I argue that heroines in tragedies written by women playwrights in the latter half of the seventeenth-century reflect the changing social norms for women that the Princess also embodies. Unsurprisingly, women playwrights were most willing to feature tragic heroines or experiment with female heroism since they frequented the salons and embraced its ideals. While La Princesse de Clèves certainly did not ease literary rules and norms associated with writing for the theater, it did inspire women playwrights to think differently about heroines. Catherine Bernard, for instance, who wrote plays and novels, patterned much of her work after that of Madame de Lafayette (Beasley 41). In turn, Marie-Anne Barbier readily admits to having been influenced by Catherine Bernard. Moreover, it is probably safe to assume that salons provided a safe place to discuss popular literature; and La Princesse de Clèves was certainly popular. In sum, values that the Princess embodies are echoed in the dramatic heroines that follow her—mainly the ability to reason and to feel passion at the same time. Thus, the salon and writings associated with it affected drama by inspiring a new generation of female writers, and likely fostering an environment where women could experiment with the concept of female heroism—even in tragedies. To investigate this shift, I examine three heroines in seventeenthcentury tragedies by the most successful female playwrights: Madame de Villedieu’s Nitétis in Nitétis (1663); Catherine Bernard’s Laodamie in Laodamie, Reine d’Épire (1689); and Marie-Anne Barbier’s Arrie in Arrie et Pétus (1702). Pioneer women playwrights in the first half of the seventeenth century, such as Madame de Villedieu, had to adhere more strictly to the male-centered, traditional dramatic rules, since they had not yet made great strides in breaking into a genre that was so heavily policed by the French Academy. Thus, Madame de Villedieu’s Nitétis is patterned after a male tradition of the heroine. That is, Nitétis’s heroism emerges as the result of her willingness to blindly adhere to patriarchal authorities. Catherine Bernard’s Laodamie and Marie-Anne Barbier’s Arrie, however, are stronger female leads who echo a new concept of the heroine. Both Laodamie and Arrie demonstrate an ability to reason, which enables them to make decisions that have a direct bearing on the outcome of the play. Thus, Laodamie and Arrie more so resemble Furetière’s definition of a hero, describes as “le principal personnage dont on décrit l’action” rather than that of the heroine who is simply described as a “fille ou femme qui a des vertus de Heros, qui a fait quelque action heroïque” (Dictionnaire universel, contenant généralement les mots français tant vieux que modernes 2: 256). Rationalization allows Laodamie and Arrie to emerge as heroes who play Theresa Varney Kennedy 368 the primary role in the action. Nevertheless, these heroines also retain their ability to feel and express their passion. Heroines in Tragedy The presence of female regencies early in the seventeenth century is often used to explain the emergence of heroines in secular tragedy. 5 However, playwrights such as Corneille and Racine gave women important roles because they fulfilled their tragedies’ propagandistic objectives. Heroines who submitted blindly to higher authorities and to their duty glorified the State and its patriarchal framework. Their conduct largely reflects the reality of the female condition in the seventeenth century. 6 Heroines who engaged in patriotic conduct (i.e., prioritizing her family or the State) served as useful propagandistic tools in tragedy since they represented ideal female aristocratic qualities. Even the female martyrs—inimitable models of female chastity, and highlighted by Furetière as the best examples of heroines—are highly propagandistic, since they merely reinforce the patriarchy. Yet, they are void of passion, and are intended to serve as models for young ladies. 7 Traditional heroines were celebrated for their willingness to submit to higher authorities, not for their ability to determine their course of action through effective use of reason. While the male hero drives the action forward, the heroine traditionally plays a passive role that serves to reinforce the patriarchal framework. For instance, in Corneille’s Le Cid, L’infante, by renouncing her love for Don Rodrigue, so as not to create a misalliance, exhibits ideal female qualities. Some pre-Princess heroines even have the titles of plays named after them, such Racine’s Bérénice (1670) and Iphigénie (1674). Yet, I would argue that they played passive roles. For instance, Bérénice acts only in response to her male hero counterpart. Titus, Emperor of Rome, and engaged to Bérénice, had already decided to reject her as early as Act II, since Rome would not allow him to marry a foreign queen. The play is thus centered on his struggle to come to terms with his duty to his country, and her willingness to accept his decision. Her heroism is then only in response to his decision. Traditional heroines in tragedy 5 Marie de Médicis reigned from 1610-17 and Anne of Austria from 1643-51. 6 From a young age, a woman and her family were to be primarily concerned with her future establishment ⎯ and the choice of a spouse. Throughout the seventeenth century, the state laws and policies encouraged family-building and the institution of marriage. See Hanley. 7 The female martyr on stage demonstrates little passion toward anything other than her God “n’a ni jambes ni bras.” See Œuvres de P. Corneille 12. La Princesse de Clèves and the Making of the Female Hero 369 tended to accept the interests of male characters, or act as auxiliaries to their male counterparts. In other words, while the traditional heroine could respond to the actions of the hero, she rarely initiated the action or arrived at a conclusion through reasoning. Instead, she reinforced the authority of the patriarchy. In what follows, I analyze Madame de Villedieu’s Nitétis, a heroine patterned after the traditional heroine found in tragedies of her male contemporaries. Nitétis (1663) Madame de Villedieu’s play centers on Persian ruler Cambyses II’s incestuous attempt to replace his wife, Nitétis, with his own sister, Mandane, whom he loves. Before marrying Cambyses, Nitétis had been in love with Phameine, Prince of Egypte, who is now Cambyses’ prisoner. When Smiris, brother of Cambyses and Mandane, objects to Cambyses’ plan, Cambyses has him murdered. In response, a mob of conspirators rises up to overtake the throne. Although Nitétis despises her oppressive husband, she considers it her duty to remain subject to his wishes, even as the coup seems imminent. Nitétis frees Phameine and asks him to defend her husband against the mob. But when Cambyses sees Phameine approaching with the guards, he thinks they are about to kill him, and he commits suicide. Shockingly, Nitétis remains loyal to Cambyses even after he dies, refusing to marry Phameine. Seventeenth-century society expected such devotion and orderly conduct from women in positions of power. 8 Since Madame de Villedieu wrote for the most prestigious theatres in Paris (as well as during a time when female playwrights lacked the same creative liberty as their male counterparts), it is no surprise that she stuck to traditional depictions of heroines. Moreover, in a post-Frondes France still building its confidence, the State would have frowned upon the idea of an aristocratic woman who supported a violent rebellion. Unfailing loyalty is Nitétis’ heroic quality. She steadfastly stands by Cambyses, despite his tyranny toward countrymen and unfaithfulness toward his marriage. In Nitétis’ strongest moment, she rejects the opportunity to join a liberated Phameine. Instead, she remains devoted to Cambyses, even in the face of his—and therefore possibly her—inevitable downfall: 8 Finn demonstrates that Nitétis is perhaps justified in her attempts to serve the State and respect its laws (52). Theresa Varney Kennedy 370 NITÉTIS Les lois de mon devoir et de mon hyménée, Ont dû changer nos cœurs comme ma destinée Et s’ils ne les ont pas pleinement dégagés, Nos discours tout au moins doivent être changés: Les Dieux ont pour jamais interdit à mon âme Ces propos enchanteurs et de feux et de flamme: La majesté du trône et les lois de ma foi Ont mis tant de distance entre l’amour et moi, Que sous quelque tableau qu’il s’offre à ma pensée, Ma gloire en est toujours surprise et blessée Et tels que soient du roi les forfaits odieux, Phameine, il est l’époux que j’ai reçu des Dieux (3.1) 9 Even after the conspirators succeed, Nitétis sees it as her “honor” and “glory” to support her odious, deceased spouse. She clings to that honor, rejecting Phameine’s proposal to join the winning side: NITÉTIS Je ne puis rien de plus, sans souiller ma mémoire, Et si vous m’êtes cher, j’aime encor plus ma gloire; Adieu je vais songer à faire rendre au roi Les funestes devoirs où m’engage ma foi. (5.4) Now, Nitétis does call into question the notion that women cannot conquer their passions. 10 Nevertheless, her determination to hold fast to her ideals— and remain loyal to Cambyses—adheres to traditional qualities of female heroism. One might argue that Nitétis actually anticipates the Princess by refusing to wed the man she loves once her husband dies. In both cases nothing prevents remarriage except a sense of personal honor. Yet, I would argue that the Princess does not cling to honor alone. Her decision is, in part, based upon rationalization. She concludes that the Duc de Nemours would never remain faithful to her, and she thus clings to her own reasoning. In the case of Nitétis, however, it would seem irrational that she should cling to her duty as devoted spouse in light of her husband’s monstrous behavior toward wife and country. 11 She never questions her 9 All quotes will be drawn from Gethner, Les Femmes dramaturges en France (1650- 1750): Pièces choisies, Vol. 2. 10 Godineau states: “On en revient toujours à l’idée que par sa nature même la femme est inconstante, désordre et faiblesse, incapable de dominer ses passions et sa libido, inférieure à l’homme fait de raison” (12). 11 Goldwyn arrives at a similar conclusion: “Mais quel est ce devoir auquel fait reference Nitétis dans la pièce? Est-ce un idéalisme moral, une éthique de la vertu La Princesse de Clèves and the Making of the Female Hero 371 duty to her husband. She stands by a despotic, villainous tyrant, allowing his presence and then his memory to lord over her existence. Furthermore, when she rejects Phameine’s advances, it is not clear what she feels towards him. Perhaps we might better identify with her if she had expressed any sense of loss or remorse for having to refuse her lover. But she clings blindly to a sense of honor that seems utterly illogical. In the end, we might interpret Nitétis as dependent and passive. Her sense of honor can only be shown by not renouncing a despot. In that case, her devotion after his death—her choice not to renounce her dead husband—makes Nitétis stand out. But at the same time, she blindly adheres to her duty without any real rational justification. Her inability to act on her own terms does not allow the heroine to advance beyond the role of auxiliary. She instead reinforces the propagandistic nature of theater that dictated a very passive female role for heroines. Late Seventeenth-Century Heroines Like the Princess, heroines in late seventeenth-century tragedies could exhibit heroism when they allowed reason to be their guide. While strict codes of conduct and a sense of honor still constrain their behavior, we see the beginnings of a more autonomous female hero—one that operates outside the boundaries of what duty requires. Using Laodamie and Arrie, I show the conversion to this new type of heroine. Like the Princess, they are heroic precisely because they respond to their situations in a logical, rational manner. They act on their own terms, rather than adhering blindly to what is expected of them. They drive the action forward. Yet, while rational actors, they simultaneously maintain a sense of passion. Their heroism comes from combining reason with an ability to express their feelings in an open manner. Laodamie (1689) Catherine Bernard’s Laodamie, Reine d’Épire features a reigning queen who is unusually conscientious. 12 In the play, Laodamie’s father dies, and she et du devoir ou ne serait-ce pas plutôt le désir de sauvegarder sa réputation? Il est vrai que partager l’univers du tyran n’about it qu’à un assujettissement qui interdit l’action. Cependant vouloir conserver la mémoire du défunt paraît tout à fait paradoxal après le suicide de celui-ci…” (113). 12 According to Salic law, women and queens were basically excluded from the succession to the throne, and likewise, from rule—not only because it would Theresa Varney Kennedy 372 assumes the temporary responsibility of maintaining the kingdom. As Queen, her primary duty is to forge an alliance through marriage. Although she loves Gélon, Laodamie acts against her wishes and agrees to marry Attale, Prince of Paeonia. By allying with the Romans, Laodamie would then save Epirus from foreign threats. In the meantime, she recognizes the love between her sister, Nérée, and Gélon. Soon thereafter, Sostrate—who claims the right to the throne—assassinates Attale. Her country then names none other than Gélon as the rightful heir. They demand Gélon marry Laodamie, but he refuses. As the security of Epirus hangs in the balance, Sostrate strikes again. This time, his efforts are foiled when Gélon kills the assassin. However, one of Sostrate’s men retaliates and Laodamie is killed while trying to protect Gélon. At this point, Nérée is slated to become Queen and join Gélon on the throne. Laodamie’s initial heroic quality is her sense of duty to her country and to her family. This sense of honor and duty was expected of women in high positions in seventeenth-century France. The overarching theme of serving the state was a central component of the time, particularly during the post- Frondes period. Laodamie’s willingness to do what is best for her country places her on par with her heroine predecessors, such as Nitétis. Her first sacrifice involves setting aside her feelings for Gélon and marrying Attale. Unfortunately for Laodamie, the only way she can protect her country is to marry the Paeonian Attale. To not do so would be to plunge the country into bitter strife: LAODAMIE Tu sais quelle amitié m’unit avec Nérée, Mais, dieux! bientôt Gélon épouse cette sœur, Et Gélon en secret est maître de mon cœur. Par le dernier traité d’Alexandre mon père Le triste hymen d’Attale est pour moi nécessaire; Il faut exécuter ses ordres absolus. Mille raisons d’État m’en present encor plus; Ma couronne est tremblante, et mon peuple est rebelle.... Il faut que je subisse un cruel hyménée; threaten the patriarchy as a system, but because women were considered unable to maintain control over their emotions. This is seen in Racine’s tragedy Bajazet, in which Roxane becomes power-hungry and destructive as soon as she is made to reign. Likewise, throughout history, regencies are considered epochs of political instability in which wars of religion, family quarrels, power struggles, and Frondes call the stability and continuity of the French state into question. Despite Salic Law, a queen’s temporary right to rule due to the death of her father or husband was the norm in France as well as in other European countries. La Princesse de Clèves and the Making of the Female Hero 373 Mais mon cœur se révolte, et sans cesse combat, Et les ordres d’un père, et la raison d’État. (1.2) 13 Laodamie puts country before self and consents to the political marriage. Stifling her unrequited love for Gélon and accepting her duty would in itself affirm her heroism in the traditional sense. Yet, her loyalty to the state is put to the test once again after Attale’s death places Gélon next in line for the throne. The duty Laodamie owes her country causes great pressure, since to protect her people is to betray her sister. Only when she is formally pressured by her advisors, representatives of the army, and the people to marry Gélon does she propose a match to him. As she carefully explains to Gélon, she acts not to satisfy her personal desire, but only because she must bow to reasons of state: LAODAMIE Quand on a pour objet le bien de son Empire, Aux suffrages du peuple on doit souvent souscrire. (3.2) At the same time, Laodamie is not guided by duty alone. She allows rationality to be her guide. She reasons that she is willing to marry Gélon only if love and duty are compatible. Laodamie defends this personal right to Sostrate: LAODAMIE Maintenant je suis libre, et je veux faire un roi Qui soit digne du trône, et digne aussi de moi. (3.4) Thus, Laodamie is willing to renounce marriage to Gélon if he is unwilling to reign with her because of his love for the princess. She chooses not to abuse her power, acting calmly and rationally. When he refuses, she exiles him, not out of spite, but because she fears that were he to stay, the people would not recognize another king: LAODAMIE Un roi seul peut calmer la populace émue. Si vous ne l’êtes pas, il faut quitter ces lieux; Prince, votre personne attire trop les yeux.... Cette même valeur qui nous serait utile, Si vous ne régnez pas, fait que je vous exile. Mes sujets à l’aimer seraient toujours portés. Les détours seraient vains: ou régnez, ou partez. (5.2) The stoicism with which she delivers these lines demonstrates not just a sense of duty, but her ability to follow through with her own reasoning. Against the will of her people, she refuses to place the scepter into the 13 All quotes are drawn from Évain et al. 39-105. Theresa Varney Kennedy 374 hands of one who would not share the throne with her of his own free will. At the same time, she, like the Princess, still feels and expresses a deep love for Gélon. Laodamie is a rational actor, but not in the same way as Nitétis. Where Nitétis uses a colder form of reasoning, Laodamie expresses powerful emotions. For instance, after rejected by Gélon, she believes she may only find solace in death: LAODAMIE Interdite, confuse, et détestant mon sort, Est-il d’autre remède à mes maux que la mort? (5.3) One might argue that Laodamie’s death is accidental, yet her final words and actions suggest otherwise. In the final scene, Phénix reveals Laodamie’s carelessness for her own life when that of Gélon is threatened: PHÉNIX Ce n’est que pour Gélon qu’elle craint le danger. Loin d’éviter la mort à lui seul préparée, Elle est près de ce prince à son peril livrée. Elle croit détourner les coups par son aspect, Et que pour sa présence on aura du respect. (5.9) Just before going out in the square to quell the mutiny stirred up by Sostrate, Argire had informed Laodamie about the people’s discontent concerning Gélon’s exile. The crowd had rose up and declared him king. Given Laodamie’s sense of duty towards her people, it would not be out of line to suggest that she plays the role of an héroïne généreuse in the end—protecting the life of the one who the people named as future king. Her actions reveal a very rational choice to protect the one who might ensure the stability of the kingdom, and to give her life for the one whom she loves. Like the heroines before her, Laodamie prioritizes her duty to the state. In addition, her initial refusal to abuse her position of authority exhibits a strong sense of self and an ability to arrive at her own conclusions—a trait lacking in predecessors such as Nitétis. Laodamie’s ability to reason, and willingness to act on her decisions, allows her to drive the action forward and to assume the central role in the tragedy. Arrie (1702) Marie-Anne Barbier’s Arrie et Pétus was inspired by events that took place in Roman history during the reign of Emperor Claudius in 42. In the play, Arrie sets out to avenge the death of her father, whom the Emperor had executed. Ordered by her dying father to marry Pétus, whom Arrie loves, Arrie refuses because she wants to keep her beloved out of danger and La Princesse de Clèves and the Making of the Female Hero 375 because she wants full credit for organizing the coup designed to topple the emperor. Meanwhile, Claudius falls in love with Arrie and wants to force her into marrying him. When the coup is uncovered, Claudius gives Arrie a choice: either marry him or watch Pétus die. Only when Claudius complicates her plans by threatening to wed her by force does she feel obliged to bring Pétus into the conspiracy. She reasons that marriage to Pétus is both compatible with her personal honor and necessary for the success of the coup. By marrying Pétus, she becomes ineligible to marry the Emperor, who will likely respond by executing her. Knowing she will die, and determined to act on her own terms, she convinces Pétus that they must meet death by committing suicide together. Fearlessness and self-determination stand as Arrie’s heroic virtues. As stated by Aurore Evain and Alicia Montoya, Barbier actually modifies the historical account in order to glorify the female lead’s heroism. In the historical account, Arrie and Pétus are married before the coup arises. In Barbier’s version, Arrie marries Pétus in the third act, which sets up the suicide as a political act and not one of sentimentality. Thus, the author places emphasis on Arrie’s self-determination rather than her devotion to marital duty (Évain et al. 361). At numerous points, the dialogue points to Arrie’s ability to analyze her situation. In accepting an active role in organizing the coup, Arrie understands that she must place her own life, as well as Pétus’, in jeopardy: ARRIE La vengeance d’un père, et celle des Romains. Pétus pour me venger mettra tout en usage. Oui, j’en ai pour garants sa flamme, et son courage. Mais que j’achète cher son funeste secours, Quand je songe au peril où j’expose ses jours! (2.1) 14 Arrie remains unshaken even when danger arises. When Claudius uncovers the conspiracy, he places Arrie in the position of choosing death or marriage. Resolute to not let the Emperor control her, Arrie confidently refuses. To become Claudius’ bride would allow the Emperor to further sully her father’s honor: ARRIE Mon choix est déjà fait. Le plus triste esclavage Est moins affreux pour moi qu’un hymen qui m’outrage. (1.5) In order to fully take control of the course of events, Arrie reasons that her only course of action is to marry Pétus, an act which would at the very least 14 All quotes are drawn from Évain et al. 359-435. Theresa Varney Kennedy 376 prevent the Emperor from forcing her to marry him. She is fully aware that this will lead to her execution, yet she does not run from death. She welcomes it. She even rejects Pétus’ suggestion to seek exile, for such an escape would be shameful: ARRIE Oui, Pétus, mon exil me rendrait criminelle. La vengeance d’un père, et celle de l’État Passeraient désormais pour un lâche attentat. (3.5) Likewise, she encourages Pétus to choose death by committing suicide rather than allow Claudius to determine the method of execution. She expresses that this is the only way they may preserve their “glory”: ARRIE Vous me voyez, Pétus, pour la dernière fois. Mais puisqu’il faut mourrir, mourez à votre choix: Et de votre destin soyez le seul arbitre. Disputez au tyran un si superbe titre. Quelle honte pour vous! S’il vous traîne à l’autel Pour y faire à son gré tomber le coup mortel. (5.6) All the while, Arrie is not unfeeling. She will die to honor her father’s memory, but she also seeks to preserve her eternal love for Pétus: ARRIE Pour moi, quand tu la perds, la vie est sans attraits. Nos liens sont trop beaux pour les rompre jamais. (5.6) Like Laodamie and the Princess, this ability to think rationally while also allowing for emotion is what sets her apart from heroines like Nitétis. Arries pursues honor, but she is conscious of the emotional cost. Arrie also drives the action. As Pétus hesitates, Arrie determines her own fate by committing suicide first. She goes beyond the traditional dramatic role for women by exhibiting an impressive amount of self-determination and fearlessness. She does not let others determine her course of action, or even her tragic demise. Similarly, she does not fear the Emperor, Pétus’s death, or even her own death. No line summarizes the essence of her character better than: ARRIE Et penses-tu tyran, que la mort m’intimide? (2.5) In the end, this self-determination and fearlessness reach their unfortunate conclusion when she chooses suicide, for herself and Pétus, over succumbing to the Emperor. In choosing to marry Pétus, and unflinchingly accepting death, she appeals not only to the dutiful need to honor her father La Princesse de Clèves and the Making of the Female Hero 377 and her lover, but also to her own self-respect. Once again, Arrie’s brand of heroism, guided by rationality, but also intertwined with passion, enables her to control the outcome of events, even when she is at a disadvantage. Her ability to make decisions enables her to play the principal role in the action. Conclusion As we have seen, the Princess, having renounced marriage to live life on her own terms, embodies a new standard for female heroism in tragedy. Pre- Princess heroines, who can only exhibit heroic traits by serving as an auxiliary for their male counterparts, play a subordinate role in the action. In other words, pre-Princess heroines could not necessarily drive the narrative forward if they could not make their own choices. Even Nitétis—the title character—cannot detach from her male counterpart, placing her in a supporting role. As Nina Ekstein suggests, Madame de Villedieu’s plays are “largely models of virtual male authorship” and “all three of her tragicomedies are fundamentally male-centered, each presenting a male monarch whose power and initiatives determine the course of the action” (214). Even in this ostensibly female dominated play, the plot is driven by the male characters. On the other hand, post-Princess heroines, who could make independent decisions, are not subordinate to their male counterparts, and therefore do play a central role in the action. Laodamie and Arrie are, without a doubt, the foundational characters in their respective plays. And they are both complex characters—rational, yet passionate. Laodamie asks the one she loves to marry her, then exiles him when he refuses to assure the stability of her kingdom, even though she is still in love. Arrie seeks justice for her father’s death. But instead of simply playing into the Emperor’s hands or fleeing with her lover, Arrie stakes her own path, thereby determining the entire storyline. To be sure, post-Princess dramatic heroines are the main characters, capable of both rationalization and feelings. Might we propose a new category of “female heroes? ” I have shown that La Princesse de Clèves—and the salon environment from which it emerges—had a major effect on the concept of rationalism and female heroism. Granted, in the second half of the seventeenth century, there were more women writing plays. The payoff is a female lead who could combat the negative stereotypes associated with women. Laodamie and Arrie were fearless, passionate, and self-determined. 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