Excalibur, Durendal, Joyeuse: La force de l'épée by Martin Aurell (review)

In the medieval imagination, stories of the sword engendered awe, wonder, and superstition. Not only did the sword hold mysterious powers that exerted influence over the fate of its bearer, but it was also imbued with a soul and a personality. The possessor of the sword and the weapon coexisted in a spiritual symbiosis that could lead to victory or defeat. The courageous chevalier touted an unbeatable blade, whereas the coward found himself abandoned by his weapon in the thick of battle.

In Excalibur, Durendal, Joyeuse: La force de l'épée (Excalibur, Durendal, Joyeuse: The power of the sword), Martin Aurell provides an impressively thorough analysis of the supernatural dimension of the sword. The title reflects three of the most legendary swords and their bearers—King Arthur and the mythical Excalibur, Roland and his beloved Durendal, and Charlemagne and the unrivaled Joyeuse. Emphasis is made on the sword's symbolism, both religious and secular, as seen in sources from the eleventh to thirteenth centuries. The work is separated into four chapters: the blacksmith's trade, the marvel of the sword, the sword as the symbol of chivalry, and the two swords of Christianity. In the end, the story of the sword is just as much the story of the individuals around it: the forger, the knight, the lady, the king, the preacher, and even the fairy.

The first chapter introduces the reader to the blacksmith's trade by means of research in the field of experimental archaeology, whereby medieval smithery practices are tested using lower temperatures (only above 1,538 degrees Celsius / 2,800 degrees Fahrenheit does iron liquify, allowing it to flow into a mold). Before the fourteenth century, the creation of a metallurgic masterpiece was beholden to the quality of the iron ore due to the lack of technology creating temperatures hot enough for the iron to melt. The medieval blacksmith needed exceptional savoir faire to carry out the trade.

The myth of the blacksmith is essential to better understand the nostalgia of chivalric glory evoked by the sword. For example, Aurell traces the figure of the blacksmith back to the legend of Völundr, the mythical forger of swords, along with the blacksmithing dwarves of Germanic legend. Once adopted into the Christian context, the blacksmith was demystified and subsequently demonized as a maleficent figure. For example, the French enfer (hell or the underworld) is connected to en-fer (made of iron). Like alchemy, blacksmithery depended on the transmission of secrets, often considered to be sorcery.

In consideration of the sword as an artifact, Aurell mentions the twelfth-century chanson de geste dedicated to Raoul of Cambrai, which takes an ekphrastic form in its description of the sword's perfection. The aesthetic focus often falls on the hilt, the rigidity and radiance of the blade, and the luxury of the baldric (a belt worn over the shoulder to which the scabbard is attached). In turn, these qualities reflect the status of the sword's possessor. However, the sword can also hold other symbolic importance, that of a warning system, a religious signpost, or the mark of belonging. For example, in Norse and Celtic mythology, the blade sometimes has its own luminescence. In the biblical account of the garden, Adam and Eve are kept out by cherubim with a flaming and flashing sword. The bestowal of the baldric, as seen in Chrétien de Troyes's thirteenth-century text La Quête du saint Graal, is a reference to the dubbing ceremony of Roman legionnaires. Overall, this chapter shows that the mythology surrounding the sword indicates how the medieval mindset is constantly bent on better understanding both the material and immaterial worlds.

The second chapter considers the duality of the sword, at once a practical tool and an object of marvel (from the Latin, mirabile). The sword is the tangible proof of chivalric distinction and wonder. For example, the Chanson de mon Cid (ca. 1200) describes the...