The Princess of Cleves

School of Fontainbleau, Gabrielle d'Estrees and One of her Sisters, c. 1594, Louvre

By Madame de Lafayette, trans. Robin Buss, London, Penguin, 2004, p. 185

This is one of my favorite books!  I've read it four times for the joy of being drawn into the gossip, intrigue,  and psychological complexity of the French court during the reign of Henry II (1547-1559).  The Princess of Cleves is a beloved classic text of French literature. Nicolas Sarkozy caused an uproar when he suggested that a "sadist or an idiot" was responsible for putting questions about this novel on a French civil service exam.  Shouldn't everyone study one of the world's literary landmarks?

A young woman is brought to court and married off to a kind, respectable man, the Monsieur de Cleves, but quickly falls in love with her heart's true desire, the Duc de Nemours.  Smiley argues that Madame de Lafayette asks the same question as Marguerite de Navarre in The Heptemaron:  Does romantic love ruin a virtuous woman?  The Princess of Cleves, desperate to fight her sincere love for the Duc de Nemours, confesses her passion to her husband.  The M. de Cleves respects his wife for her virtue but despairs over her love for another.  He dies.  The Princess is now free to marry the Duc de Nemours but retires to a convent.  In time, Nemours forgets his love for the Princess.

This is the first recognizable modern novel on The List.  De Lafayette combined a step-by-step exploration of the heroine's mind with an expert depiction of court life.  The Princess decides not to marry Nemours because she feels partly responsible for her husband's death, and, more astutely, she fears that the Duc's love would cool with a change of circumstance.  Romantic love is not marital love, and so long as their love affair remains unrequited, their love is equal.  If she yields, their love becomes unequal.  

The French court blurs the line between romantic and political relationships.  The erotic is the political.  At the same time, courtly culture is concerned with traditional Catholic notions of personal morality.  For example, Smiley notes that the Princess does not give in to her passion for the Duc while married because she is aware that he cannot protect her from scandal.  Extra-marital entanglements are the norm, yet there is clearly a price, in terms of reputation, for such liaisons.

Finally, The Princess of Cleves offers a wonderful depiction of Early Modern female identities.  This is not a world that admires transparency.  The Princess flees the court for the countryside when the burden of maintaining appearances (i.e., hiding her desire) becomes too painful.  The Queen yearns for the Vidame de Chartres because, in part, she needs to confide in someone.  The premise of courtly culture is that nothing is as it appears to be. At the very least, the protagonists have three selves: one for the public court, one in their private household, and an introspective self.