My apologies for the late posting:
1)
“The Orient is seen as separate, eccentric, backward, silently different, sensual, and passive. It has a tendency towards despotism and away from progress. It displays feminine penetrability and supine malleability. Its progress and value are judged in terms of, and in comparison to, the West, so it is always the Other, the conquerable, and the inferior.” --Edward Said Orientalism
Does Said’s statement seem like an apt description of the racial lines that get drawn in Johnson’s text. Why or why not?
2)
One of the few critics to write on this text, Jennifer Fellows, has argued that the George of the 7 Champions is a nationalist folk hero than a conventional religious figure, and that a deep Protestant suspicion of all the Catholic veneration of saints lies behind his portrayal.
Do you see evidence of this in the treatment of him? Does he appropriate the Catholic connotations of medieval romance while capturing its cultural authority and deploying it for decidedly nationalist, Protestant ends?
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When considering Jennifer Fellows’s argument that a “deep Protestant suspicion of all the Catholic veneration of saints lies behind [Johnson’s] portrayal” of St George, I found the depiction of the necromancer figure particularly interesting, as he reflects concern with the association between sorcery and religion. St. George encounters Ormondine when, after killing the mighty giant who “beleeveth in Mahomet, & Termagaunt” (62), he sees Ormondine’s sword in a stone and pulls it out rather easily. The necromancer Ormondine issues commands to St George , the competion of which will evoke admiration from “all the kingdoms of Christendome” (63). This moment in the text provides an example of the ways that Johnson fuses notions of folk and religious heroism. Clearly, removing Ormondine’s sword echoes Arthur pulling out the sword in the stone that Merlin had devised. However, this moment also establishes St George’s role as a defender of Christianity when Ormondine instructs George to “continue a professed foe to the enemies of Christe Jesus” (63). By contrast, towards the end of the first book St. George encounters the necromancer Osmond who, unlike Ormondine, uses his black arts to fight against the Christians. While these sorcerers are certainly distinct from one another, together they reflect an anxiety about any kind of association between religion and magic, and underline the triumph of the Protestant church over Catholic superstition. When he finds the other six Champions enchanted by the furies at Osmond’s command, George is most disturbed by the fact that they have relinquished their knightly attire: “arise, and teare this womanish, and surfet not in silken robes: put on your steely Corslets, your glistering Burgonets, and unsheath your conquering weapons” (142). Thus, in exorcising his men of the necromancer’s charms, St. George not only defends Christendom against the power of black arts and the dangers of superstition, but also rescues his men from the seductive feminine power of the East.
ReplyDeleteAs a starting point for the question on Said, I'd like to compare the representations of Kalyb (in chapter 1) and Sabra (in chapter 3). Although, Kalyb lives in the English woods, and raises the English knight, she is Other. She is separate (living in the woods), sensual (to the degree that her lust causes her to raise a baby) and conquerable (easily fooled and defeated by St. George). In contrast, Sabra is "the fairest maide that ever mortall eye beheld, in whom both Arte and nature seemed to excell in curious workemanship" (21). Although in Egypt, she is part of courtly life, virtuous and determined. She is motivated by love rather than lust. Furthermore, Sabra promises to convert to Christianity.
ReplyDeleteDespite the way that Kalyb and Sabra act as opposites, and upset an easy Orientalist perspective on England/Egypt, it is worth noting their similarity - unlike the men in England or Egypt, they have magical objects. Kalyb's silver wand indirectly causes her defeat (9), while Sabra dons a gold chain to protect her virginity (23). The other magical objects that appear in Egypt are the oranges with incredible healing properties (13). Both the chain and the oranges are described as having "excellent vertue," which gives them their powers. Although these could easily be read as relic-like objects, the language of virtue might also suggest a natural state - rather than deriving from a saint (or superstitious ideas), the objects' virtue comes from nature (it is what it is).
The 'catholic' question is a tricky one, because of the layered and often conflicting symbolism employed by Johnson. I have to say that George is presented as a national hero (if anything), and not at all as a conventional religious figure. So to the extent that there may have been concern about George being viewed as a catholic symbol, I think that is effectively deflected by Johnson.
ReplyDeleteGeorge is, nevertheless, always referred to as 'Saint' George, but his miracles are few and he often behaves in decidedly un-christian ways. He is always the 'Christian Champion of England' which is ambiguous from a denominational point of view. Rome is never mentioned in connection with religion (as far as I recall) and even when George's eldest son is sent there, it is because Rome is "the wonder of the world for martial discipline" (131).
From the very start of the tale, George's 'sainthood' is dubious. He is (miraculously/immaculately) conceived after years of fruitless marriage (How?). Evil omens presage his birth. MacDuff-like, George is from his mother's womb untimely ripped -- killing her in the process. And he is brought up by a wicked sorceress who eventually tries to seduce him (perhaps he was 'sainted' for resisting). I don't see much in the way of (positive or seditious) religious symbolism here.
George does instigate a crusade and he does the very christian thing of dropping an infidel into a pot filled with molten lead -- surely gaining for himself a few bonus points on the saintly index -- but it's no more than any true Englishman would do.
And what are we to make of the very odd Ch. XVII in which Sabra is aided by the Queen of Hell to deliver her and George's three sons. This is only place where I can see some attack on the catholic association with the saint (in that he has diabolic friends). Why do George and Sabra merit such diabolical assistance? (because they are catholic??) The three babes are promptly stolen and lovingly nourished by three beasts (Sabra is starving at the time and may not be able to feed them). In thanks, George kills all three surrogate mothers. He returns to Sabra saying, "see, I have redeemed our sons" (130). There may be a critique of catholicism in this (but I haven't figured it out).
If we mentally undertake a mass edit of the text and remove all occurrences of the word 'saint', it would then be clear that this is a nationalistic (propagandistic?) tale of English superiority featuring a chap named George -- a tale which, generally, follows the rules of the medieval Romance.