Social Disorder and Discontent in Thomas Chestre's Sir Launfal

Social Disorder and Discontent in Thomas Chestre’s
Sir Launfal
Carol O’Toole
Department of Old and Middle English
Marie de France’s lay of Lanval, composed in the late twelfth century, was rewritten
many times in Middle English. All six extant English versions exhibit a number of
authorial or scribal changes that reflect the changing social attitudes of the period in
which they were written, but perhaps none more so than Thomas Chestre’s Sir Launfal.
Generally dated towards the end of the fourteenth century, what is striking about Sir
Launfal is the degree to which Chestre changes this popular conventional tale. The
courtly society for which Marie wrote is a primary concern of Chestre’s, and the
difference between their audiences is crucial to the understanding of his text. Chestre is
writing for a very different audience during a time when social structures were changing.
Little is known of Chestre’s life beyond the fact that he most likely lived through
the reign of Richard II (1377-99), and yet this one detail is in itself significant. If Chestre
was old enough to have witnessed Richard’s reign from his succession to the throne in
1377 — and this is the most likely scenario — then he would have been able to recall the
earlier years of the king’s reign before the Peasants’ Revolt of 1381, his policy of peace
until the Merciless Parliament of 1388, and his escalating tyranny after the death of Anne
of Bohemia in 1394. Even if we allow that only the Peasants’ Revolt predates the poem’s
composition, the events leading to the social disorder of 1381 would have been indication
enough for Chestre of the breakdown of feudal society. If he had been younger, or if we
are to accept Stokoe’s (1948) assertion that the poem was written in the first quarter of
the fifteenth century, Chestre would most certainly have heard of, if not directly
witnessed, this change from good ruler to tyrant, while the distance this time lapse
afforded him would make his perception of the more positive aspects of Richard’s rule
more idealistic still.
Although not essential to this reading of the text, an understanding of the political
background to Sir Launfal is useful in that it helps to put into context Chestre’s quest to
reclaim a lost ideal in his poem. The vision of society presented in the Lanval story is no
longer relevant to England under Richard II. That society no longer exists. Chestre
laments that loss and, in Sir Launfal, he tries to resurrect the old order by breathing new
life into it, by marrying the real world of Launfal with the magical world of his hero’s
fairy lover. It is evident throughout Sir Launfal that it is only under the influence of both
the familiar and the fantastical that something truly good occurs. However, this new

partnership is introduced in the text as a remedy for an ailing society, a society where the
old order has been corrupted by the adulterous and idolatrous phenomenon of courtly
love, a corruption whose self-serving ideals represent a new world order concerned with
mendacious love and material concerns. Chestre is searching for a world of truth,
integrity and honest love, a world that for him existed before the influence of corruptive
courtly love. Launfal represents this ideal world, while the notoriously adulterous
Guinevere personifies the praetorian passions that throw that world into disorder.
There have been few new assessments of Sir Launfal in recent years, and many
readings of Chestre’s text continue to centre on the thesis, firmly established in the mid
1960s, of Launfal as a solitary figure who does not fit in. B. K. Martin (1966) sees him as
the typical isolated hero of the folktale, while Daryl Lane (1973) laments his deplorable
treatment at Arthur’s court. Launfal’s position in society is indeed crucial to the
understanding of the text, but for different reasons from those that have been previously
proposed. Even a cursory reading of the text should indicate to us that our hero is not in
fact the mistreated wretch he is often made out to be, and that his ‘otherness’ has been
greatly exaggerated. At Arthur’s court in Carlisle Launfal is made king’s steward “for his
largesse and his bounté” (line 31). i There is nothing to indicate that he is in any way
mistreated or neglected; in fact, he holds this position for ten years. There is a marked
difference here in comparison with Marie’s lai, where the hero is sorely neglected by the
king. Launfal is very much a part of his community and is loved and respected.
It is the arrival of Guinevere and her neglect of Launfal that upsets his utopian
existence. Here Chestre deviates from his primary source, Sir Landevale, in order to
include the motif of the vengeful queen of ‘Graelent’ and, as Peter Lucas (1970) has
pointed out, he places the whole burden of responsibility for the action in the tale on
Guinevere’s shoulders. It is she who is the discordant element in Sir Launfal, and we can
relate this to a number of Arthurian legends where her affair with Lancelot brings about
the fall of Camelot. Her arrival marks the beginning of the decline in Launfal’s
relationship with his community, or rather, the decline of the established status quo, and
his discomfort with her presence may be seen as an omen of what is to befall his perfect
society. As steward, Launfal represents law and order, and Guinevere’s neglect of him at
the wedding feast may be seen as her dismissal of the rules and structure of the principles
for which he stands. Their mutual dislike of each other is immediate, and expressly stated
by Chestre (lines 44, 71). Theirs is a struggle between an established society, a ‘golden
age’ of British history, and a new order — or disorder — which threatens that ideal. It is
the newcomer at court, not the established community, who provides the impetus for
Launfal’s self-imposed exile.
That his exile is indeed self-imposed should not be overlooked. He is not driven
from the court and we learn that he will in fact be sorely missed by everyone, including
the king. At the news of his imminent departure Arthur urges him to take “greet
spending” (line 81), sends his own nephews as travelling companions, and anticipates his

eturn. In Carlisle, Launfal is possessed of his own personal identity and of true friends
whose loyalty later becomes evident. It has until now been home for him, but with the
coming of Guinevere that changes irrevocably. They cannot both live together in
Carlisle; only one social order can survive. Although Launfal has served his king
faithfully, Arthur’s marriage to Guinevere represents the ultimate acceptance. The
pernicious Guinevere drives the king’s steward — order — from court.
In Marie’s lai there is no doubt that, although Lanval is poor, he is still a member
of the ruling classes. There is no Caerleon episode — he simply leaves the court on his
“destrier” (line 41) ii and rides towards his encounter with his lover. In Chestre’s Sir
Launfal, the town of Caerleon serves to embody the new world order which Guinevere
has begun to introduce into Carlisle. In Caerleon, wealth and status, not personal
integrity, define who Launfal is.
Upon his arrival in the town Launfal reveals that he is no longer one of Arthur’s
knights; Chestre does not allow Launfal the individual to hide behind Launfal the knight.
Once he makes his situation known he is treated with contempt by the mayor, his former
servant. The narrative moves from a society concerned with honour and virtue to one
concerned with monetary gain. Anderson, commenting on Kane (1951), Bliss (1960) and
Sands (1966), refers to the “‘bourgeoisification’ of the Lanval story” (Anderson, 1977, p.
116), and the mayor’s rise in status from servant to head of Caerleon might indeed help
to support this argument — if the mayor were a likeable character. Yet Chestre
deliberately creates an individual who invites our disapproval through his lies, his
concern with social status, and his treatment of Launfal.
The text does not, as has been previously suggested, represent a sort of wishfulfilment
in terms of social advancement and monetary gain, but in fact deplores the
very principles upon which the community of Caerleon is built. Launfal’s drastically
altered circumstances reflect the gap that exists between the ideal society that Arthur’s
court represented and the emerging everyday reality of a world preoccupied with the
attainment of status and wealth. That the mayor, the head and representative of the town,
offers Launfal his worst room as lodgings highlights the disregard that this new social
order has for the old world. While Launfal may reside in Caerlon, it is not home for him.
Its values are not his values.
We very quickly come to expect dishonesty and treachery from the Machiavellian
mayor, but we do not expect it from the noble Launfal; as a result the two lies that
Launfal tells in the course of the tale are highly significant. When he urges John and
Hugh not to reveal his misfortune to Arthur he underlines what his initial lie about his
father’s funeral first indicated — that he is genuinely concerned with the court’s opinion.
Whereas he hides nothing from the townsfolk of Caerleon, he takes great pains to
maintain some semblance of personal prestige in the eyes of Arthur and his court. His
concern is reciprocated in Arthur’s delight in hearing that he is “in good liking” (line
176). Again, it is only Guinevere — the newcomer — who is disgruntled by this news.

Presumably Launfal hopes that one day he will rejoin the community of Carlisle, but, if it
is such an inclusive and accepting community, why should he be so concerned with the
court’s opinion of him? He worries because that community has changed. Its lady is a
tramp, the furthest thing from honour and virtue possible. Like Caerleon, her values are
not his values, and the text prompts us to consider whether at this stage Launfal actually
has a home to return to. The mayor and Guinevere, representatives of this new order,
undermine Launfal’s place in society by undermining the values upon which his ideal
society was based.
In Caerleon, his isolation continues. Ostracised by those of rank, Launfal is not
invited to their feast “for his poverté” (line 187). Yet his exclusion from the festivities
marks a turning point in Launfal’s fortunes. In the absence of the members of this
mercantile society, the kindness of the mayor’s daughter, who invites him to dine with
her, becomes the precursor to his return to society. Her kindness represents the last
vestige of the old order in Caerleon, and her role as the traditional wayside damsel who
aids the hero harks back to the traditional perception of an ideal society that Carlisle
represented before the arrival of Guinevere. That he declines is not as important as the
fact that she has asked, and, in loaning him a saddle and bridle, she precipitates his
meeting with Triamour.
The introduction of the fairy world of Dame Triamour in Sir Launfal is, as Boitani
has observed, “gradual, gentle and rhythmic” (Boitani, 1982, p. 56). The slow, dignified
approach of the “gentil maidenes two” (line 231) is heightened by its contrast to the
immediately preceding account of the jeering men who mock Launfal as his horse slips
in the mud. The maidens’ courteous words and manner and the oriental richness of the
pavilion to which they bring him provide a counterpoint to the mud and mockery of
Caerleon.
Yet despite this ceremonial introduction, Chestre’s treatment of the supernatural
elements of the story is far more matter-of-fact than in Marie’s Lanval. For a start, the
borderline between the world of Lanval and his fairy lover is very definite in the French
lai: Marie uses a river as the boundary line that separates the two realms, water being a
common divide between the real and the magical. There is no such boundary in Chestre’s
tale for Launfal to cross, and even the fear that Lanval’s horse displays in Marie’s lai
before the knight’s encounter with his mistress is absent. Estranged from Carlisle as a
result of Guinevere’s malevolence, and from Caerleon as a result of his poverty, Launfal
is no longer at home in his own world. He already exists in a twilight world somewhere
outside society.
Chestre makes some other significant changes pertaining to the magical elements of
the tale. While we sense that Marie’s fairy is not of this world, details are avoided,
adding to the mystery. There is no concrete description of her, she is not named and we
are not told where she is from. The story is related, in Stemmler’s words, “mit dem
Schauder des Ungewissen” (Stemmler, 1962, p. 250), with a quiver of the uncertain. This

atmosphere vanishes in Chestre’s version. The supernatural is presented in concrete
terms and with matter-of-fact realism. The dividing line between Launfal’s world and
that of his fairy lover is removed, and they interact as two ordinary lovers might.
Triamour is named by her ladies-in-waiting before we even meet her, and Chestre
expressly states that she is the daughter of the “King of Fairie”:
The kinges doughter of Olyroun
Dame Triamoure that highte.
Here fadir was King of Fairie
Of Occient, fere and nyie [...] (lines 278-81)
In fact, where Marie understates everything, leaving us to imagine the origins of her
“pucele” (line 108), Chestre does the opposite, adding extra magical details (such as
Launfal’s magic purse) to the extent that the impact that Marie’s veil of mystery had on
the reader is lost. Chestre moves from focusing on the ethereal essence of the situation to
describing physical details: the intrinsic beauty of Triamour and her ladies-in-waiting is
ignored in favour of detailed descriptions of her clothing and surroundings.
Ménard remarks on the “mélange indissociable du merveilleux et du réel” (Ménard,
1979, p. 181) in Marie’s lais. The two are separate but necessarily intertwined: “Les lais
de Marie de France ne se déroulent pas dans un pays surnaturel ou dans un monde
enchanté. Ils se passent en plein sur la terre des hommes ... [mais] le merveilleux est
toujours mystérieux” (Ménard, 1979, p. 168). In Chestre’s poem, this element of mystery
is lost — one is as common as the other, and both are treated as a conventional reality.
While he expressly states that Triamour is a fairy, this revelation has little impact both on
the audience and on Launfal himself, and her magical qualities are taken for granted.
This shift in emphasis is essential to the understanding of the tale. The magical elements
in Sir Launfal are downplayed in order to highlight the honesty, openness and integrity of
Triamour. Yes, she is a fairy, but this is not where her real magic lies: for Launfal she is
literally a wish come true, since she represents everything he mourns for in his own
world.
The relationship between Lanval and his mistress in the French lai follows the
courtly tradition: the fairy lover asks that Lanval be “pruz e curteis” (line 113), and he in
turn is immediately struck by the love-bolt that afflicts all courtly lovers. In Chestre’s
text, however, Triamour’s seduction of Launfal runs contrary to the conventions of the
courtly romance, since she initiates the relationship in a far more open and honest
manner than we have become used to elsewhere. And yet, in spite of her forwardness,
she is described in virginal terms:
She was as whit as lilie in May
Or snow that sneweth in winteris day [...] (lines 301-2)

Triamour, in fact, is the absolute antithesis of the promiscuous Guinevere. Her nakedness
is the physical manifestation of her openness and honesty. This openness, in contrast to
courtly and Ovidian rules, highlights what can be viewed as the superficial nature of the
courtly worship of the beloved, a devotion which, in the history of Camelot, is
detrimental to that utopia. As Guinevere (here, corruptive courtly love) brought about
Launfal’s departure from court, so Triamour (honest love) facilitates his return.
For Chestre, the one aspect of chivalric society that he cannot reconcile with his
ideal vision is courtly love. He views it as a destructive force, the growth of which
ultimately led to the decline of the old order which he values so highly. While its
intentions may seem honourable, in practice it is entirely contrived, thriving on
deception, self-pity and, in more than one instance, adultery. Sir Launfal, in fact, is closer
in sentiment to Gower’s Confessio Amantis than Ovid’s Ars Amatoria. Launfal and
Triamour’s banquet in the pavilion — private, intimate and relaxed — both recalls and
contrasts with Arthur and Guinevere’s wedding feast, and emphasises the difference
between superficial courtly love, where the beloved is placed on a pedestal, and true
love, of which Marie herself would most certainly have approved. In return for his love
Triamour offers Launfal riches and devotion. Guinevere, the selfish and adulterous
representative of courtly love, later demands his love, offering nothing but vindictive lies
in return when he refuses her advances.
Supporting this interpretation of Guinevere as the representative of destructive and
dishonest courtly love is one highly significant element of Triamour and Launfal’s
relationship upon which Chestre and Marie agree. Unlike the relationships in many of
Marie’s other lais — Milun, Yonec and Le Fresne, for example — Lanval’s relationship
with his fairy lover is not adulterous, thus subverting the love theme established by such
couples as Diarmuid and Gr·inne, Tristan and Iseult, and, of course, Guinevere and
Lancelot. This works particularly well in the thematic context of Chestre’s version, since
adultery is one of the primary things that Guinevere is renowned for, highlighting the
essential purity of the relationship between the knight and his fairy lover.
Triamour’s world, however, is not Launfal’s true home. He does not belong to the
fairy world, and so returns to Caerleon where his fortunes are restored. Another key
indication of the lack of division between the two worlds lies in the reaction of the hero
to his change of fortune. Lanval, in Marie’s version, returns in a state of shock (lines.
196-200), a shock that is also tinged with a not inconsiderable sense of fear, yet Chestre’s
Launfal takes to his new circumstances like the proverbial duck to water. It is fitting that
the tournament in his honour should be held in Caerleon among the fickle townspeople
who previously mocked him. The hypocrisy of the mayor, and Launfal’s reply, remind us
that their newly found concern is not for Launfal the person but for Launfal the wealthy
knight. His return to his old home of Carlisle does not occur until after his defeat of
Valentyne, when Arthur sends for him. It is also significant that Arthur hears of his
success across the sea in Lombardy, not in Caerleon. Although geographically nearer,

Carlisle and Caerleon are worlds apart. Nevertheless, in the light of Launfal’s recent
adventures we must ask ourselves: for how much longer?
Unlike the Caerleon tournament, ostensibly held in his honour, Arthur’s feast is a
community affair of which Launfal is a part. While this second feast may not be in his
honour, it must surely be the more important of the two for Launfal since it sees his
reinstatement as king’s steward (line 622), before Guinevere yet again upsets the balance.
Her sudden interest in Launfal highlights her fickleness and reinforces her reputation as
an adulteress. While Marie presents only a short dance scene as a prelude to the queen’s
propositioning of Lanval, Chestre’s description is lengthier, and Guinevere’s long drawnout
dancing contrasts with the forward honesty of Triamour. Her sudden turnabout,
together with her claim that she has loved Launfal passionately for the past seven years,
exposes her self-deluding selfishness:
I have the lovid with all my might
More than this seven yere [...] (lines 677-8)
The extent to which Guinevere is portrayed as a malignant, destructive force is
emphasised by her effect on Launfal himself. While his reply may be justified in the light
of Guinevere’s reputation, it is hardly the behaviour befitting a knight towards his queen,
the wife of his feudal lord. The polar opposites which Guinevere and Triamour represent
are also highlighted in the queen’s behaviour: whereas Triamour gave all and asked only
for loyalty in return, Guinevere, to satisfy her greedy desires, demands that Launfal be
disloyal to his king, her husband. Guinevere again proves his undoing as her taunts cause
him to retaliate, breaking his vow to Triamour. His magical gifts are withdrawn and he is
bound and brought before the king to face charges of treason.
Yet even at this dire time Launfal is not alone. Like Hugh and John before, he has
true friends who stand by him through the trial. Unlike the people of Caerleon, his
change of fortune does not affect their opinion of him. Arthur’s court is, in Earl
Anderson’s words, part of “an internal audience that responds to Launfal’s changing
fortunes” (Anderson, 1977, p. 123), and they assess the situation on the basis of the man
they know him to be, not on the wealth he does or does not possess. Equally, the twelve
knights assigned to the task of examining the case are not afraid to take into account
Guinevere’s reputation for promiscuity — something which is acknowledged even before
Triamour arrives to confirm it. They decide that it is she who is at fault, and are ready to
acquit Launfal on the condition that he produce his lover, or one of her maids. He is
given a perfectly reasonable time-frame — a year and a fortnight — in which to fulfil
this condition, and when he admits at the end of this period that he cannot satisfy the
requirement the Earl of Cornwall steps in to plead that the penalty be reduced from
hanging to exile.
Lest we think that this show of solidarity looks promising, however, it must be
recognised that it is Arthur — the king and therefore the person who represents his court

— who is the one person who reacts negatively towards Launfal following Guinevere’s
accusations. The extent of her influence on her husband is evident, since he has clearly
forgotten the faithful service of his steward in the past. Arthur has become more like the
ungrateful mayor of Caerleon who failed to remember Launfal’s largesse. The attitude of
the head of the court is dangerously close to that of the head of the town of Caerleon.
Arthur’s marriage to Guinevere weds the old order with the destructive force of courtly
love, resulting in the birth of a new, self-serving vision of society. As king, Arthur’s
concern is not for justice but for the gratification of the demands of this new world order.
By contrast, Triamour comes to Launfal’s aid despite his broken vow, emphasising the
essential selflessness, compassion and forgiveness of honest love. She becomes his
vindicator where Guinevere is his victimiser.
Chestre’s description of Triamour’s arrival at Arthur’s court has attracted much
criticism for his focusing on the materialistic elements of his narrative. Marie describes
her hero’s lover in general terms; her beauty is emphasised, but not detailed. Here, also,
is the only time we receive any indication from Marie of her origins, and yet even still it
is not explicitly stated that she is a fairy: we are simply told that she takes Lanval with
her to Avalon, and the rest is left for us to surmise. Chestre gives precious little more
detail of Triamour than Marie — the focus of his expanded description is on her crown,
her fine clothes, her horse’s bridle, the collars of her hounds. What is significant here,
though, is that her arrival, and that of her ladies-in-waiting, is seen through the eyes of
the knights. It is they who focus on these materialistic elements, an indication that while
the knights may show Launfal their support, their values have altered. It is only Launfal
who sees Triamour for who she is. He pays no heed to the trappings of the procession,
simply to his lover:
And whan Launfal sawe that lady,
To alle the folk he gan crie an hy,
Bothe to yonge and olde,
“Here,” he seide, “comith my laman swete!” (lines 967-70)
Triamour’s punishment of Guinevere is unique to Chestre’s version of the tale: she
breathes on Guinevere, blinding the queen in accordance with her earlier oath. The
punishment is fitting in the context of this reading of the text: Guinevere is blinded
because the vision of society that she represents is dangerously flawed. The influence of
her presence at court has blinded her husband to the true value of his loyal steward.
Launfal’s situation is a direct result of her decision to approach him after seeing him
dancing from her tower, and yet the usual relationship between looking and loving that
we find elsewhere in courtly romances is corrupted: the object of Guinevere’s affection is
never Launfal, it is herself. She is so sure of her own beauty that she is willing to wager
her eyes that Launfal cannot produce someone fairer than she is, and moves as a result
from being blinded by her own selfish narcissism to literal blindness.

Sir Launfal represents a hankering after a past ideal during a time when bourgeois
priorities centred on the accumulation of wealth. It offers an alternative, more positive
option where the real and the other might co-exist, where the world represented by the
Arthurian ‘golden age’ might be balanced with the openness, honesty and integrity that
Triamour embodies. It is a new vision of society, a compromise between a lost past
before the advent of dishonest and destructive courtly love, and a hoped-for future. The
lack of a happy medium in the real world of Sir Launfal, however, is an
acknowledgement on Chestre’s part that this dream is, for the moment at least,
unattainable. In Richard II’s reign, perhaps, he sees a society where largesse has been
replaced by heavy poll taxes, where a ruler’s early idea of kingship is corrupted by the
self-serving greed of his subjects, and where the death of his wife, arguably the
stabilising force in Richard’s life, results in the loss of his ability to rule justly.
Launfal chooses to leave Carlisle to live with Triamour in Oliroun. For him, home
is literally where the heart is. Although he is now out of danger and Guinevere has been
punished, she is still alive, and Carlisle will never be home for him as long as it is
susceptible to her discordant influence. It is a past that he cannot reclaim and he must
seek solace elsewhere. He will never find the real honour, genuine chivalry, and true and
honest love that he seeks in the real world and so, reunited with his mistress, he is “take
in to fairie” (line 1035). As a human living in the fairy world, however, Launfal will
always be a stranger; once a year he returns to the real world to snatch a taste of real life.
It is tempting to believe that he returns to check up on things, to assess whether the old
order might be restored, and yet the severance between the two worlds is explicit and
final only at the end of the text. Launfal may return to joust — the old knight contesting
the new — but his return visits are never homecomings. We find in this final severance
an acceptance that there is no going back. Launfal — and Chestre — must accept that
this paradise lost cannot be regained. Society, and its values, have changed.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
PRIMARY SOURCES
Bliss, A. J. (ed.) (1960), Thomas Chestre: Sir Launfal, London and Edinburgh, Thomas
Nelson & Sons.
Rychner, J. (1958), Le lai de Lanval, Paris, Librairie Minard.
SECONDARY SOURCES
Anderson, E. R. (1977), ‘The Structure of Sir Launfal’, Papers on Language and
Literature, 13, 115-24.

Boitani, P. (1982), English Narrative in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries,
translated by J. K. Hall, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.
Kane, G. (1951), Middle English Literature: a Critical Study of the Romances, the
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Lane, D. (1973), ‘Conflict in Sir Launfal’, Neuphilologische Mitteilungen, 74, 283-7.
Lucas, P. J. (1970), ‘Towards an Interpretation of Sir Launfal, with Particular Reference
to Line 683’, Medium Δvum, 39, 291-300.
Martin, B. K. (1966), ‘Sir Launfal and the Folktale’, Medium Δvum, 35, 199-210.
Ménard, P. (1979), Les lais de Marie de France: contes d’amour et d’aventure du moyen
âge, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France.
Sands, D. B. (ed.) (1966), Middle English Verse Romances, New York, Holt, Rinehart &
Winston.
Stemmler, T. (1962), ‘Die Mittelenglischen Bearbeitungen zweier Lais der Marie de
France’, Anglia, 80, 243-63.
Stokoe, Jr, W. C. (1948), ‘The sources of Sir Launfal: Lanval and Graelent’, PMLA, 63,
392-404.
i
ii
Bliss, 1960. All quotations from Sir Launfal are from this edition.
Rychner, 1958. All quotations from Lanval are from this edition.