Understanding Locational Setting and Geography in Edmund Spenser’s The Faerie Queene
How Setting Inform the Characters and Reader through its Contextual Allusions and Manipulation of Gender, Ultimately Revealing Spenser’s Renaissance Philosophy for the Ideal World in Humanistic and Platonic Principles
***Originally submitted 8 April 2020 to Dr Jim Ellis, in part for credit, for ENGL 410: Renaissance Literature and Culture I at the University of Calgary***
***Not only is this essay subject to copyright, but any unauthorized use without citation is considered academic misconduct (plagiarism). You are welcome to consult this paper if you provide the appropriate citation(s)***
Throughout Spenser’s The Faerie Queene, there are a multitude of locations introduced – each of which is both significant in its purpose as a plot advancement tool, while simultaneously acting as an austerely symbolic fixture. Ellis describes this as the “[exploration of] place and performativity in Early Modern poetry” in his paper “Movement and the City in the Faerie Queene” (1). He goes on to describe “the social and performative dimensions of The Faerie Queene: how poetry works to create a sense of communal or national belonging through the representation of movement” (1.) In this spirit, I believe locational setting and geography also ultimately informs the observation of how “The Faerie Queene is seen in the light of a concept of the self and its relation to the world that originated with Plato and was elaborately articulated in the Renaissance” (Quitland 67-68). Taken together, these philosophies of reading will act as the central spine of my argumentation. Within this paper I will first emphasize and explicate the descriptors of various settings within Book One and demonstrate their effects on those who experience them – particularly through the gendering of Una and the Redcrosse Knight. I will then connect the effects of gendering and their ramifications to the greater context set within the Renaissance – through the understanding of Humanist and Platonic principles, which informed Renaissance ideals. In other words, I will argue that the settings – and in particular the way in which the locations and geographies are described – inform lasting gendered effects on the characters and reader, which allegorically represent and foil historical developments in Early Modern beliefs. I would also like to note my brief use of Freudian psychoanalysis, particularly in contextualizing locations in the gendered forms and the psyche that results in this gendered understanding of setting. Despite its anachronistic placement, I believe that due to the timeless nature of human psychology – and as with gravity and other scientific discoveries – the formalization of theory or discovery does not mark its creation into existence. That is to say that human psychology has persisted as a part of human nature, long before it was classified as such – unlike cultural or historical literary theories which require a foundational time in place. Further, studying these texts from a modern viewpoint requires us to advance and adapt literary analysis, in a reasonable manner, towards modernity. Thus, I argue, my use of Freud to compliment my analysis stands, despite its anachronistic appearance beside a Renaissance text.
Firstly, I would like to call to attention the encounter between Prince Arthur and Una in canto VII. This particular moment marks the anagnorisis of the reversed gender roles as expressed through Arthur, and thus thrust upon the reader explicitly. “O heavie record of the good Redcrosse/ Where have you left your Lord, that could so well you tosse?” (426-427). The use of “tosse” – referencing “handle” or “wield” (footnote quoted in Abate 6) – in this instance is particularly provoking, as Arthur thus explicitly posits Una as the controller of Redcrosse. Although this acts as the first explicit declaration of such in the text, it continues on the trend established throughout the prior action of Book I.
When Una and Redcrosse journey as a pair, Una almost solely acts as the active leader – the role typically assigned to the masculine, particularly in the Early Modern Period and in tribute to the archetype of the night and the damsel. Redcross therefore, is relegated to the role of Una’s passive follower – the role likewise assigned to the feminine in the aforementioned contexts. This is most evidently demonstrated through their separation and reuniting – wherein Una is seen to be the one rescuing Redcrosse – the maiden thereby saving the hero.
The settings of Book I also underscore this theme. In Canto I, the duo stumble upon the “hollow cave” (96) of Errour. Despite Una’s realization of their arrival at the Wandering Wood, and her warning of Redcrosse, the knight remains steadfast – bound for the ‘womb’ of the cave, and as Freud describes, ‘the desire for the mother’. I argue this womb imagery is only furthered by the “[hunt]” (95), pursuant to the womb “amid the thickest woods” (96) – a particularly explicit allusion to the pubic region of the human body. Redcrosse is then further disenfranchised, as he nearly succumbs to Errour’s false narratives. It is only through the Una that he is able to stand firm in his faith – effectively figuring him as the maiden of the womb, comparative to the intelligent, cunning, and now ‘heroic’ Una. This is further juxtaposed with the apparent ‘irrational animal soul’ that Errour represents – as sin and lust – which upon her death, is consumed by her horrid offspring until gorged and burst: a metaphor for sexual desire. The use of this image is reiterated in Canto IX, in the “dwelling […] low in [a] hollow cave/ […] Darke, dolefull, drearie, like a greedy grave” (291-293) and the “darkesome cave” (308) which is consumed by the lust for “carcases doth crave” (294). This is also echoed by the images of the “darkesome [dungeons]” (Canto VII line 453) that Redcrosse finds himself in throughout Book I – whether in the Castle of Pride or Orgoglio’s cave.
The female imagery is developed further through the images of water. First in Archimago’s dream sequence in Canto I, where he conjures images of fluid in the “Earth’s bowel” (346), the “wet bed” (348), and the “ocean waves” (Canto II line 4). In Canto VII, Redcrosse “Drunke of the streame, as cleare as cristall glas/ Eftsoones his manly forces gan to faile” (49-50) where the – by Freudian tradition – female depicted water highlights the Christian rebirth. While Redcrosse’s “mightie strong was turned to feeble fraile” (51) by the shameful lust and desire he engages in, by the deception of Duessa. This is further demonstrated through the restoration of Redcrosse’s virtues in Canto XI, “That happy land, and all with innocent blood/ Defyld those sacred waves, it rightly hot/ The well of life, ne yet his vertues had forgot” (259-261). Through this ‘fluid of the womb’, the destruction and restoration of Redcrosse is evidenced in the Christian tradition of symbolic water, while also highlighting his consumption by the womb, and eventual re-birth into the male hero.
Turning to Una, she continues in the mold of the hero in Canto III by “[straying] wildernesse and wastfull deserts” (22) as “she of nought affrayd/ Through woods and wastnesse wide him daily sought” (25-26). Not only does she fulfill the role of the champion on her quest, but the poem distinctively assigns her a sense of agency in her fearless journey through the vast expanse of the kingdom – vastness, Freud strictly rejects as characteristic of the female image. Una is frequently juxtaposed with forests and trees, of which are phallic in nature, and suggests the Christian symbolism of strength and virtue. As Jesus was crucified of the tree, and become the gardener in place of Adam, so too does Una – taking on the mantle of the male. When Redcrosse nearly succumbs to despair, Una again demonstrates her strength, power and agency, “she snatcht the cursed knife/ And threw it to the ground, enraged rife/ And to him said, Fie, fie, faint harted knight/ What meanest thou by this reprochfull strife?” (Canto IX lines 464-467). This not only shows her commanding leadership over Redcrosse, but is also reminiscent of Christian preaching of virtue – Christ’s disciples and the Saints of Christiandom sending messages of hope through God’s teachings, in spite of adversity or despair.
The distinction of her mobility and independence acts as a direct subversion to the understanding of travel in the Early Modern Period, where a lady would infrequently travel alone, nor would she be embarking on an epic quest – as Spenser presents here. Una’s strength is only reaffirmed by her taming of the lion, showing her ability to control the animal – and by extension, the animal soul. Further, the added nuance of the lion’s high royal status in the Great Chain of Being and the gendering of the lion as male, prompts further emphasis to her dominant ‘male’ role: “he waited diligent/ With humble service to her will prepard” (Canto III lines 78-79) and follows her lead and control in directional travel. It is important to note here that it is not that Una does not require Redcrosse. Chiefly, she requires his physicality and battle prowess for protection – but that Redcrosse is seen to be easily substituted in this regard, with figures such as the lion (and later Sansloy). Rather, Redcrosse is seen to be just as, if not more dependent on Una. Namely, she provides him the spiritual guidance to the right and righteous path, to counter his “weak faith and a corresponding excessive confidence in his own virtue” (Abate 7).
By framing Redcrosse amongst the deceptively magnificent and ill-constructed Castle of Pride in Canto IV and V, this hubris of virtue is accentuated. Coming upon “The house of mightie Prince it seemd to bee” (Canto IV line 16) that “Did on so weake foundation ever sit […] but painted cunningly” (Canto IV lines 40 and 45). These, and the accompanying lines that describe the castle are allegorical for Redcrosses’ inability to parse through Duessa’s deception or orientate himself towards the truth of the reality surrounding him. This is also particularly true in that Redcrosse is seemingly unable to escape the irony of being the passive victim and player of events, stumbling his way through his quest, rather than being the captain of his fate. I turn here, to Una’s description of these very events in Canto VII: the occurrences of Archimago’s deception, “made him to misdeeme / My loyalty, not such as it did seeme” (431-432) and Duessa’s trickery, “inveigled him to follow her desires unmeete” (445). Further, Una describes Redcrosses’ imprisonment by Orgoglio, who “with mighty maul/ The monster mercilesse him made to fall” (450).
Arthur thus, in phrasing his question as “Where have you left your lord,” indicates Una to be the creator of events and the captain of their collective journey. In doing so, he encourages Una’s description of Redcrosse as passive, notably in the above quotes in Canto VII, “made him” (431), “inveigled him to follow” (445), and “made to fall” (450). Here Una is seen to be on level footing with the great Prince, who signifies the embodiment of perfection through the virtues all knights must strive towards. This holds the crux of the dynamic between Una and Redcrosse, with the most gross offence not being Una’s leadership, but instead Redcrosses’ refusal to acknowledge she serves this role. In Canto X, Una is used to focalize Redcrosse and the land that surrounds him. In doing so, Una becomes the fixture by which the reader experiences the setting and characters, placing control of the narrative with her. Further, her description is one of pity and strength above the weakened Redcrosse, as she describes, “But that, which lately hapned, Una saw/ That this her knight was feeble, and too faint/ And all his sinews woxen weake and raw/ Through long enprisonment, and hard constraint/ Which he endured in his late restraint” (11-15).
Throughout the bulk of Book I, Redcrosse remains stoically mute when Una conducts herself in such traditionally male manners. It is not until the end of Canto XII, when the knight has completed his quest, departs again to serve the Faerie Queene that the male and female roles are properly redistributed to their natural order: Una the woman at last secedes into the expectedly passive partner, to Redcrosse’s leading – and departing – man. This is underscored by Redcrosses’ relationship to his location, “In sea of deadly daungers was distrest/ But since now safe ye seised have the shore/ And well arrived are, (high God be blest)/ Let us devize of ease and everlasting rest” (Canto XII lines 151-154). Here Una’s parents describe how Redcrosse has now seized the shore. He is no longer a product of his location but instead forms the world around him – it is in this way that he maintains control and command of his destiny. Redcrosse determines his location and circumstance, instead of being a product of these factors himself: he is no longer submerged or sunk into the water, having tamed the water and risen above the sea. For Una, the Canto XII shows the restoration and ceding of the forest and ‘garden keeper’ mantle to Redcrosse. Her people “at his feet their laurell boughes did throw/ Soone after them all dauncing on a row/ The comely virgins came, with girlands dight/ As fresh as flowres in medow greene do grow/ When morning deaw upon their leaves doth light/ And in their hands sweet Timbrels all upheld on hight” (49-54).
Plato declared that, “There will be no end to the troubles of states, or of humanity itself, till philosophers become kings in this world, or till those we now call kings and rulers really and truly become philosophers, and political power and philosophy thus come into the same hands” (61). It is under this premise that we come to understand Spenser’s dedication to Queen Elizabeth I in The Faerie Queen. Through the explorations of virtue, the Faerie Queene becomes ‘philosophically enlightened’ and comes to embody Spenser’s vision for an ideal world – the ultimate embodiment of Renaissance philosophy and ideals. Throughout the text, symbols of faith and Christ are distorted, the metaphors for sin and virtue are embellished, and the text acts as an ironic foil to what Spenser views as the distortion of Christian versus Anglican values. The characters – and the reader along with them – journey through the reversal of gender roles and the perversion of natural order, as depicted by the locations and settings each respective character resides in. Ultimately this allows us to view Una as an archetypical knightly hero and Redcrosse as a ‘damsel in distress’. Eventually, the characters are restored into their rightful gendered roles, as represented by the return to appropriately gendered settings for our characters. Thus, Spenser demonstrates how through the enlightenment of the Renaissance and the rise of high reason, the offences against God and human nature are rectified – allegorically through the physical and psycho-spiritual movement of the characters. It is through this representation of reason, and the conflict between the tripartite souls, that Spenser creates an allegory to represent the reasonable world man has ascended to. Most notably, in their collective identity, via the development, persecution, and eventual victory of Protestantism, and lastly, through the rise and embrace of Platonic and Humanistic philosophies which dominated and informed Renaissance ideals.
Works Cited
Abate, Corinne S. "Spenser's THE FAERIE QUEENE." Explicator, vol. 55, no. 1, 1996, pp. 6. ProQuest, http://ezproxy.lib.ucalgary.ca/login?url=https://search-proquest-com.ezproxy.lib.ucalgary.ca/docview/1290267554?accountid=9838.
Ellis, Jim. "Movement and the City in The Faerie Queene," Spenser Review, vol. 47, issue 1, no. 3, Winter 2017. http://www.english.cam.ac.uk/spenseronline/review/item/47.1.3
Quitslund, Jon A. Spenser's Supreme Fiction: Platonic Natural Philosophy and The Faerie Queene. 2001. https://www-deslibris-ca.ezproxy.lib.ucalgary.ca/ID/418200
Plato. The Republic. Project Gutenberg.
