The Illuminations of Le Jeu de Robin et Marion in Aix-en-Provence - DRAFT
Jesse Hurlbut
Brigham Young University
The well-known Jeu de Robin et Marion by the thirteenth-century playwright Adam de la Halle survives today in three manuscripts. Two reside in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris (P: fr. 25566 and Pa: fr. 1569), and the third is in Aix-en-Provence [A: Bibliothèque Méjanes Ms. 166 (Rés. Ms. 14)]. In the two Parisian manuscripts, the play is bound along with other texts. In manuscript P, the play occupies folios 39 to 48v, which are ruled into two columns. A single gold-leaf miniature decorates the opening lines of the play. The folios in manuscript Pa are also divided into two columns and the play appears on folios 140 to 144v following a copy of Le Roman de la Rose. There are no illuminations for the play in manuscript Pa. The Aix manuscript distinguishes itself from the other two in several ways. First, there are no other texts bound together with the play. Second, the text appears in a single column running down the center of the page—a column which is roughly the same width as one of the columns in either of the other manuscripts. This layout allowed the creators of this manuscript to include several miniatures in the ample space in each margin. In all, there are 132 illuminations and decorations that fill the margins of the eleven folios of the manuscript. Surprisingly little has been said about these illustrations. This paper looks for the performance aspects of the illustrations, particularly in the layout and composition of the miniatures.
Like most manuscripts from this time (first half of the fourteenth century), manuscript A survives without any record of who commissioned it and why, nor of the scribes or artists who worked on it. Although the pages are badly worn and damaged, it is evident from the careful penmanship, skillful artistry, and the generous use of gold leaf that they originally composed a deluxe presentation edition of the play. From the current condition of the manuscript, we surmise that it was not only heavily used at some point in its history, but also considered valuable enough to keep even after various accidents which left several pages torn completely in half and large pieces of parchment missing altogether. With damage from humidity, oil, and dirt, and the gold leaf worn completely off, the survival of this manuscript likely did not depend on its deluxe status. Long before coming into the hands of the librarian, the numerous tears and holes had been patched in such a way as to preserve, to the extent possible, both text and image. Each patch was carefully trimmed to fit around the miniatures and in spaces between the images and the text and even between words. In this document, we find an artifact that appears to have survived largely because of its content, regardless of its form.
A casual glance through the pages of this manuscript impresses even the amateur with the large number of illustrations accompanying the text and music. Even though the depictions and poses in many of the miniatures are quite similar and repetitive, anyone familiar with the play will immediately identify representations of specific scenes. We find, for example, the encounters between Marion and Aubert, the knight; Marion’s idle picnic with Robin; the struggle between Aubert and Robin over the knight’s falcon; and the games that the pastoral company plays among themselves. In fact, the closer one studies the text, the more apparent it becomes that the full appreciation of the images depends on their relationship to the text.
In spite of the beauty and detail which does survive in the manuscript, the overall layout and placement of the miniatures appears accidental. Unlike a carefully patterned Bible moralisée, in which the page is strictly divided into balanced sections of text and image, the Aix manuscript seems to have allowed the arrangement of its miniatures to be governed by chance or whim. On a single page, there are as few as three and as many as ten illuminations. In some cases, the miniatures are stacked one on top of another, extending high above the first line of text or well below the bottom line. In other cases, there are large spaces between miniatures or even no images at all in a given margin. Sometimes, an empty gap exactly tall enough to include one more image suggests a conspicuous omission in an otherwise crowded margin.
In many medieval manuscripts, the placement of miniatures is determined by the structural organization of the text: images appear at the beginning of a chapter or section. In other manuscripts, the occasional illustrations that adorn the pages serve only a decorative function, often with only loose connections to the actual text. The illuminations in the Aix manuscript are far too numerous to be considered in either of these ways. Instead, the miniaturist seems to have deliberately chosen where to place the images, apparently on the basis of some need dictated by the text.
It appears that the miniatures were generally designed to fill the left margin first, roughly accompanying the passage of text depicted. Each image occupies a vertical space equivalent to eight to ten lines of text. The miniatures tend to be aligned with the passages that are represented in the image. It appears that additional images were added in the right margin only if the space in the opposing left margin was already filled. The miniatures on the right are never aligned with the opposing miniatures on the left. They are always vertically offset down by at least one line of text. At times, this overlap allows for a very high ratio of images to text. On folio 7v, for example, there is one picture for every 4.3 lines of text. Moreover, the alternation between offset left and right images allows them to be viewed in a relationship that naturally accompanies the reading of the text, that is from left to right, down the page.
Of the 132 miniatures, two are not framed and do not have a background. One of these depicts a grove of trees and corresponds to the moment in the text when the knight proposes to lead Marion off to the woods. The second is an attractive leaf and vine decoration that may be a loose reference to the hedge where Marion suggests that the knight look for his falcon. The remaining 130 illuminations are all framed and have tiled backgrounds which alternate between blue tiles in a red frame, red tiles in a blue frame, and gold leaf (often scored with tooled patterns) inside a mixed blue and red frame. As the background color changes, so, too, does the color and even the cut of the dresses and tunics of the characters represented in each scene. Within a single conversation, for instance, Robin and Marion each appear in different clothing six times. The inconsistency goes so far as to represent Robin sometimes with a hood on his head and other times with the hood down—all within twenty-seven lines of text.
It is tempting to consider the changes in colors and clothing as conveying some symbolic meaning relative to the play. We shall see, however, that the most logical explanation lies in the effort on the part of the manuscript artist to create a diverse and balanced visual experience for the reader. While the placement and content of the images was determined by the text, the organization of the three different color schemes does not follow the same left-right pattern. On the contrary, on most folios, there is a consistent alternation between the three backgrounds as the images line up vertically in a given margin. For example, the backgrounds in the left margin on folio 5 follow a regular pattern from top to bottom and continuing at the top of the right margin: red, blue, gold, red, blue, gold, red, blue. The pattern does not always continue from one page to the next, and some of the folios do not strictly adhere to this regular arrangement. Nevertheless, in a vertical order down a single marginal column, there are never two like backgrounds juxtaposed. No such pattern can be discerned in the images as they are read horizontally left to right. The characters’ clothing change color from image to image in sequence with the rotation of background colors (e.g., no red dresses on red backgrounds, etc.). In short, the images follow two different schemes of organization. Their order, placement, and content were designed on a horizontal plane following the left-to-right reading of the text, and their artistic rendering was accomplished vertically column by column.
By understanding the organizing principles of these images, particularly their physical relationship to the text, we can begin to consider them as active narrative elements in the presentation of this play. It should be noted, however, that this manuscript does not attempt to preserve a visual record of a specific performance. In the miniatures themselves, there is little evidence for a material production of the play, especially in terms of sets, props, and costumes. Instead, because of the numerous illustrations, the manuscript may be considered as a production (or materialization) of the play in its own right. By viewing the miniatures in conjunction with a reading of the manuscript, the images serve to animate the dialogue in the mind of the reader in a way that extends beyond mere decoration.
In the opening scene, for example, Marion begins the play by singing a song about the humble gifts that Robin has given her. Aubert, the knight, enters, singing a song of his own. Marion resumes her song, but is startled by the sudden arrival of Aubert. This exact sequence is represented visually, and with the same rhythm and punctuality as in the text itself. The first miniature depicts Marion singing alone amidst her sheep. In the second, we see Aubert approaching on his steed with a falcon perched on his gloved hand. In the third image, we again see Marion, who continues her song. All three of these images are evenly arranged in the left margin with one or two lines of space between them. At the moment of the first words that the knight addresses to the maiden, an image of the two characters together appears in the right margin, breaking the even rhythm of the layout by starting five lines higher than the bottom of the third miniature (in the left margin), as if cutting the action short. The next two images, both in the left margin, also depict Marion and the knight in conversation. One might easily contend that the single image on the right is visually disruptive and unnecessary, especially since the depiction of the two characters is essentially the same as in the two following miniatures. What was to be gained by inserting the single image in the right margin? If we consider that the process of reading the text and the images is a temporal one, then the break in the visual rhythm corresponds exactly with the actions or gestures called for in the text and that performers might conduct on stage at the moment of Aubert’s interruption.
A similar page layout accompanies Robin’s first entry on stage on folio 2v. As the knight exits, Marion puts to music her wish that Robin would visit her. Robin sings a response as he enters. When she hears him, they exchange greetings:
Marion: Robin!
Robin: Marion!
Marion: Where did you come from?
There are five miniatures accompanying this brief exchange. As Marion sings about Robin, she is depicted alone in the left margin opposite a representation of Robin in the right margin. They face each other, and the lyrics of her song as well as the musical notation appear between them. Presumably, Marion has not yet seen Robin; hence, the portrayal in the right margin is the imagined shepherd to whom she addresses her song. When Robin does arrive and begins to sing, he appears alone in a miniature in the right margin. He faces a new depiction of Marion, also alone, in the opposing left margin with the lyrics and music of his song between them. The fifth miniature portrays the two together as they greet each other following their singing. Throughout the manuscript, whenever characters are engaged in conversation, they are almost always represented together in the same miniature. Images of individual characters are relatively rare. This scene, and the opening scene of the play discussed above, are exceptional in the number of solo depictions. As we see in both cases, however, the action of the play has not yet brought the characters together and, therefore, they are represented separately. Moreover, the physical position on the page of the lyrics and music between the images of Robin and Marion, who are facing each other, creates a visual metaphor for the conversation taking place between them—not unlike the balloons that enclose captions of comic book characters.
Of the illuminations just described, two depict Marion in the left margin facing the two of Robin in the right margin. While the sets of images are not identical, there is no consequential information in the representations regarding costumes, stage properties, or facial expressions that contributes to the telling of the story or to the performance of the play. One might again be tempted to ask what purpose is served by repeating essentially the same images in such a condensed space. Certainly, in different manuscripts, the relationship between the text and its illuminations can vary considerably. In the case of illustrated drama manuscripts, that relationship can potentially take on even more unusual dimensions with the added considerations of performability. In some manuscripts, the illustrations function as summaries of the text, but in this manuscript, they act rather as a kind of iconic punctuation. As such, they actually serve as narrative elements insofar as they contribute to the processes of reading.
Other examples of the miniatures as visual punctuation include the game-playing scenes between Robin, Marion, and their friends Peronelle, Gautier, Huars, and Baudouin. In each of the following instances, the illuminations depict characters talking between themselves with text physically laid out between them. At one point, as they are deciding which game to play, Gautier suggests that they break wind, just for fun (fol. 7v). He is portrayed in the left margin lifting his tunic in a manner appropriate to his suggestion. In the opposing margin, Robin and Baudouin turn away and hold their noses in disgust. Consider also the scene on folio 8v, in which the king, sitting alone in the left margin, orders Robin to kiss Marion. Their embrace is enacted in the right margin. In another slightly more complex example on folio 10r, Huars lists his qualifications as a potential husband but Peronelle turns down his offer. Then Gautier asks her if she has anything to contribute to their picnic. She responds that she has some bread and salt. The conversation takes place in a set of solo images. Interestingly enough, Peronelle stands in the right margin as she responds to Huars, but stands in the left margin to respond to Gautier. This appears to help indicate that the conversation takes place between three people, with Peronelle between Huars and Gautier. In each of these examples, there is an active interaction not only between the miniatures and the text they accompany, but also from miniature to miniature. Persons represented in one miniature are conversing with characters in another. Hence, we find depictions not only of the temporality of the play in performance, but also a sense for the spatial aspects of dramatic representation as well.
Medieval drama texts survive today in a diverse array of document formats ranging from scraps of actor’s roles to glossed director’s copies and carefully-executed deluxe editions. The practice of illustrating drama texts was neither universal nor uniform. The function and value of any illustrations accompanying a drama text must be evaluated individually by manuscript. It would be convenient if all illuminated drama manuscripts revealed the dimensions and proportions of the acting surfaces, the quality of stage decorations and properties, what gestures and expressions accompanied certain speeches, how costumes were tailored, where the audience sat and who was in attendance. In the end, however, the miniatures usually reveal relatively little about an actual medieval production of a play. But in some instances, they may provide some other insight, helping to bridge the gap between the medieval text and the modern reader. In the case of the Aix copy of Le Jeu de Robin et Marion, the copious illustration conveys a rhythm and an animation that captures the essence of the original dramatic time and space.