Melusine: or, the Noble History of Lusignan by Jean d’Arras (review)

The medallion on the front jacket combines three significant components of Jean d’Arras’s late fourteenth-century prose romance: the mythical fairy–serpent Melusine; the feudal fortress of Lusignan; and the arms of this once powerful dynasty. The love and marriage of Raymondin, son of Hervé de Léon, and the unknown lady Melusine, daughter of a king of Scotland, gave them ten sons, eight of whom became rulers of important lands in France, Western Europe, and along the Mediterranean to the Near East. Military aid to a ruler threatened by the Saracens, marriage to his daughter, and accession to supremacy over the territory gave splendid opportunities for the sons’ formidable exploits and the display of chivalrous and humane qualities. Integrated in this feudal context are features from legend and folklore: the fantasy and mystery of Melusine’s origins, wealth and passion for building (e.g., the Lusignan fortress), the condition she imposed on the marriage, and the superhuman strength, violence, and wrath of the sixth son, Geoffroy Big-Tooth, who eventually became Lord of Lusignan.

The sons’ destinies and achievements are the main narrative focus in the series of wars forming the Lusignan dynasty. It had, however, nearly petered out when Jean d’Arras composed Melusine in 1392–93. The romance was commissioned by Jean, Duke of Berry, a Lusignan descendant, who supplied the source chronicle or story. At that time he had just wrested Lusignan back from the English, and Léon VI of Lusignan, exiled king of Armenia, was living his last days at the French court. This enthralling story, which reflects contemporary preoccupations with both the war between France and England and the lingering idea of further crusades to the East, helps justify Jean de Berry’s rightful claim to Lusignan. The Melusine myth and its association with the history of Lusignan have had a long literary life, including Coudrette’s verse romance (c. 1401), and have generated much scholarship.

In this, his only known work, Jean d’Arras has a lively prose style that is well conveyed in the translation. He frequently alerted readers to a shift from one place or action to another, and to coming events, thus achieving a clearly articulated narrative, with sustained pace. He regularly mentioned his use of the true story, his source. He described vividly the formation of armies and battle scenes, with certain traits of epic style, and more succinctly court festivities, sometimes fast-forwarding the story with a quick remark: ‘Let us not linger on this …’ (p. 35), or ‘Why give a long account?’ (p. 45). He commanded different styles, from the didactic and sententious to the abusive insults exchanged by adversaries on the battlefield. Authorial craftsmanship is evident.

The Introduction is an excellent account of the background, the blending of history and fiction, Melusine and her mythical and human roles, Geoffroy Big-Tooth’s infamy and eventual inheritance, Jean de Berry’s claim, Coudrette’s verse romance, printed editions and manuscripts, the prose style and its translation. Donald Maddox and Sara Sturm-Maddox have resolved problems of the kind faced by translators of medieval works and provided a thoroughly readable text, expressing in places the élan, drama, and emotion of the story. Without loss of meaning, they have sensibly compressed needless repetition and reduced instances of wordiness, such as in passages on King Elinas’s death (p. 26) and Melusine’s bathing (p. 181). I noted with interest the different translations of French fantosme by ‘phantasm’ (p. 33), and by ‘phantom’ and ‘apparition’ (p. 189), and the expression ‘on God’s side’ to render ‘de par Dieu’.

A curious textual discrepancy merits comment. Froimont is the seventh son, as listed on p. 71, but later, when the birth of Melusine’s last two sons is mentioned (p. 148), Froimont is named as the ninth...