top of page
ISSUE XI | SPRING 2023

On Criseyde’s Reflectivity and Autonomy in Chaucer’s Trolius and Criseyde

EVA GLASSMAN '23

Chaucer’s Criseyde knows her legacy as a betrayer by the end of the story: she says, “‘Allas, of me unto the worldes ende / Shal neither been ywriten nor ysonge / No good word, for thise bookes wol me shende’” (V. 1058-60). Throughout this tale of love and betrayal, Chaucer characterizes Criseyde as a cerebral and thoughtful woman; as Winthrop Wetherbee says, “Criseyde thinks things over [...] she knows what is at stake on a practical level in a way that Troilus never does” (“Narrator” 183-4). However, despite her careful consideration of her options, she cannot stop the forces that physically separate her from Troilus and make her out as a betrayer. Whether Criseyde is truly heartless is a popular scholarly debate, and the most compelling arguments grant Criseyde the benefit of the doubt by foregrounding the oppressive role of the patriarchy around her and her complete lack of integrity to resist it. As a product of the patriarchy, Criseyde can only reflect what the men in her life impose upon her, and therefore can only react accordingly. Criseyde's lack of agency with Troilus is subtly highlighted in the similarities between Troilus’ and Criseyde’s language and behaviors. This mirrored dynamic—whatever happens to Troilus must also happen to Criseyde—renders her autonomy null in the story, despite her thoughtfulness. While the narrative makes it easy to blame Criseyde for Troilus’ heartbreak, the mirrored language throughout the story highlights Criseyde’s lack of autonomy and the role the patriarchy has in shaping her character and the fate of her romance with Troilus. The mirrored language of the story seems to suggest what secondary scholarship has been doing, as it urges sympathy for Criseyde by revealing the oppressive nature of the patriarchy so that readers do not see her as a betrayer but simply someone who has no control over her fate.

 

Chaucer’s choice to mirror Troilus’ and Criseyde’s language and behaviors demonstrates Criseyde’s lack of autonomy because Criseyde must imitate Troilus’ behavior and speech. For example, in Book I, when the Trojans congregate in the temple, Criseyde is described as “under shames drede,” emphasizing her status as a widow and daughter to the traitor Calchas (I. 180). Meanwhile, haughty Troilus, before spotting Criseyde in the crowd and being struck by her beauty, is described as “pride above” (I. 230). While “under shame” and “pride above” are opposite ideas, the linguistic similarity of the phrasing, which places Troilus and Criseyde on opposite ends of the same binary, articulates a mirrored relationship between the two characters. Even though Troilus and Criseyde begin the story described in opposite terms, Chaucer still demonstrates Criseyde’s lack of autonomy because as Troilus falls in love with her, their language and behavior become more similar. After this moment in the temple, Troilus in the throws of love and yearning says, “‘For hoot of cold, for cold of hoot I die’” (I. 420). This cold and warm heart imagery returns in Book II when Criseyde develops romantic feelings toward Troilus and the narrator notes that “[n]ow was hir herte warm, now was it cold” (II. 698). This shift from opposite to similar language emphasizes Criseyde’s lack of control over her narrative because Troilus falling in love with her is what forces her to become a mirror to his speech, emotions, and behaviors. 

 

This idea of Criseyde as a mirror that echoes Troilus is also present in how they express themselves as individuals. For example, in Book IV, Criseyde and Troilus share the same thoughts about their souls and how to maintain connection despite their separation and possible death. Troilus wants his soul after death to “‘hieth’” after Criseyde and for her to “‘[r]eceive [it] in gree’” (IV. 319-22). Criseyde separately reflects on the same idea in the same fashion later in the book: “‘Myn herte and eek the woful gost therinne / Biquethe I with youre spirit to complaine / Eternally, for the shal never twinne’” (IV. 785-7).  Both of them believe their souls are an extension of existence after death and wish to essentially haunt the other should one of them die. They also each experience separate moments of rage over their forced separation, Troilus “[s]miting his brest ay with his fistes smerte; / His hed to the wal, his body to the grounde, / Ful ofte he swapped, himselven to confounde” (IV. 242-5). Meanwhile, Criseyde in her anger, “[h]ir ounded heer, that sonnish was of hewe, / She rente, and eek hir fingres longe and smale / She wrong ful ofte, and bad God on hire rewe” (IV. 736-9). Troilus hits himself with his fists and throws his body to the ground to hurt himself; Criseyde reflects this self-destructive behavior in a more feminine way by tearing her hair and wringing her hands together. In Book V, they each feel individual bouts of regret about their inability to prevent their separation. Troilus regrets not taking action to prevent Criseyde from leaving Troy for the Greek camps, while Criseyde regrets not heeding Troilus’ advice to run away together (V. 45-9; V. 736-42). The narrator also describes the two lovers as physically deteriorating after their separation as Troilus becomes “so defet,” “lene,” “pale and wan” that he “walked by potente” (V. 1219-25). Criseyde is described similarly: “Ful pale” and “limes lene” (V. 708-14). It is clear from these instances that if one thing happens to Troilus, it must also happen to Criseyde, showing Criseyde’s reflectivity of Troilus. 

 

Secondary scholarship urges readers to consider how the patriarchy affects Troilus and Criseyde’s mirrored relationship dynamic. Gretchen Mieszkowski speaks to this in her article “Chaucer’s Much Loved Criseyde” writing,

Criseyde mirrors the men around her. She reflects them and echoes them so directly that their purposes, values, and way of seeing the world seem to be hers as well as theirs. This is the reverse of establishing a self—the denial of selfhood in favor of the other person’s substance. And this is Criseyde’s typical way of relating to men. (Mieszkowski 121, emphasis mine)

Mieszkowski’s point about Criseyde merely reflecting mens’ “purposes, values, and way of seeing the world” is especially evident in the moments described above; it seems that Troilus’ musings “seem to be hers as well” as his, which shows not only Criseyde’s lack of autonomy in her relationship with Troilus, but also her “denial of selfhood” in the story at large. Because of Criseyde’s powerlessness and lack of identity other than a womanly object, she cannot be blamed for her betrayal of Troilus for Diomede; as secondary scholarship has articulated, readers must consider how the patriarchy and gender roles influence the dynamic between Troilus and Criseyde, and how that dynamic subjugates women and prohibits them from acting of their own volition. 

 

Much secondary scholarship surrounding Criseyde as a character and her integrity utilizes the image, function, and implication of mirrors to defend her decisions and highlight the relentless subjugation she experiences as a woman during the era of the Trojan War. Scholars picking up on the idea of mirrors to describe Criseyde align thematically with Chaucer’s mirrored structure of Troilus and Criseyde throughout the story. This connection suggests that the narrator wishes the readers to understand that Criseyde has a lack of autonomy in the story and that she should have their sympathies. Priscilla Martin in her book Chaucer’s Women: Nuns, Wives, and Amazons claims that,

Chaucer presents Criseyde as both subject and object, examining both her mind and her world, the social and political pressures upon her from outside, the emotional problems within. [...] Criseyde [is] continually at odds with her circumstances. [...] Someone who is always reflected in distorting mirrors is not likely to have much sense of her own integrity. (Martin 164; 188, emphasis mine)

Martin emphasizes that the story of Troilus and Criseyde does not exist in a vacuum; to blame Criseyde alone for her actions ignores the patriarchal society that shapes her perceptions of love and her freedom of movement (both physically and metaphorically) as a woman in Troy, a widow, and daughter of a traitor.

 

Chaucer “examin[es] both her mind and her world” in Criseyde’s eagle dream in Book II: 

Under hir brest his longe clawes sette, 

And out hir herte he rente, and that anon, 

And dide his herte into hir brest to gon— 

Of which she nought agroos ne nothing smerte— 

And forth he fleigh with herte left for herte. (II. 925-31, emphasis mine)

While the dream symbolizes Criseyde’s budding romance with Troilus, the language and imagery evokes patriarchal violence that Criseyde knows well. The dream also depicts a transactional exchange, with the eagle that “rente” Criseyde’s heart, put “his herte into hir brest,” and “fleigh with herte left for herte.” The transactional nature of this dream places Criseyde as an object, as Martin articulates above—and, as Mieszkowski claims, denies her personhood. Not long after Criseyde’s dream, Troilus laments his lovesickness for Criseyde: “‘Lo, myn herte, / It spredeth so for joye it wol tosterte.’”  The Norton Chaucer’s footnote for “tosterte” is “leap out,” which has a different tone from Criseyde’s heart “rente” out; Troilus’ heart leaps out of his chest with joy while Criseyde’s is ripped from her (II. 979-80). If the eagle in Criseyde’s dream represents Troilus, one can imagine him violently shoving his heart into the cavity in her chest created from him ripping her heart out, a violent image that renders Criseyde as an object to be taken and exchanged, an idea which reflects itself at the literal level in her exchange for Antenor from the Greeks. 

 

In his article “Criseyde and the Narrator,” Winthrop Wetherbee comments that Criseyde’s eagle dream,

shows her acquiescing only in a carefully qualified act of physical possession. Rather than opening a window onto the spiritual possibilities of love, Criseyde’s dream is conditioned and circumscribed by her experience of love in this world. (Wetherbee, “Narrator” 188, emphasis mine)

The idea of hearts violently bursting and being forced out of bodies articulated in Criseyde’s dream and Troilus’ woe demonstrates a dynamic that places Troilus as active and Criseyde as merely passive; Mieszkowski describes Criseyde as “acted upon—totally passive but unharmed” (Mieszkowski 116). Wetherbee’s description of the dream as Criseyde “acquiescing” to “physical possession” resonates well with Martin’s claim that Criseyde is both “subject and object” and “continually at odds with her circumstances” (Wetherbee, “Narrator” 188; Martin 164). Both of these sentiments articulate Criseyde’s lack of autonomy and position her as a victim of men’s desires; “it is no exaggeration to say that this love affair happens to Criseyde” (Mieszkowski 115). Since Criseyde has no power over what happens to her, whether it is her love affair with Troilus or her forced exchange for Antenor, one can understand why she remains with her father at the Greek camps and why she takes Diomede’s offer for companionship. She has no core identity beyond the relation to the men in her life: Pandarus’ niece, Troilus’ lover, a widow, companion to Diomede, daughter of Calchas. She finds stability and security through patriarchal structures, and because of their pervasiveness, sees no alternative lifestyle.

 

Criseyde’s sense of how she will be perceived for her behavior and powerlessness in controlling that image suggests that the reader should have sympathies for her. In a speech at the end of the story, Criseyde says “‘Allas, of me unto the worldes ende / Shal neither been ywriten nore ysonge / No good word, for thise bookes wol me shende’” (V. 1058-60). Criseyde understands how people will perceive her behavior—her inability to escape her father and the Greek camps, her taking Diomede over Troilus, her empty promises to Troilus that she will return—that she will be forever known as a “shend,” a disgrace. Her particular mention of “bookes” reveals a metatextual self-awareness, as if she knows her story will become part of a future literary canon; Troilus also has a similar reflection earlier in Book V about how “‘[m]en mighte a book make of’” his romance and tragedy (V. 582-5). Again, both characters reflecting individually about ideas of legacy demonstrates how Criseyde simply mirrors Troilus’ thoughts and emotions, and thus has no true autonomy. 

 

Criseyde’s ruminations over her legacy make the reader aware of their own place as a spectator to this story, and that perhaps Criseyde is watching carefully from beyond the grave, praying readers acknowledge what Wetherbee calls the “social constraints and precarious circumstances” of Criseyde’s society:

[Chaucer] makes plain the social constraints and precarious circumstances that have compelled [Criseyde] to meet the world on its own terms and to rely so largely on her sexual attractiveness to make her way [...] [and] has taken pains to endow Criseyde with attributes that, in a different world, might have offered her a very different life. (Wetherbee, “Narrator” 194, emphasis mine) 

These metatextual moments, particularly Criseyde’s, speak to the idea of future perception and debate about her morality; Chaucer’s inclusion of Criseyde exploring her own legacy encourages the reader to look beyond her actions and consider, as much scholarship has done, the ways in which Criseyde has no power and how her identity as a woman in ancient, patriarchal Troy affects her self-perception. As Mieszkowski says, “Criseyde’s betrayal of Troilus is not the personal failure of an individual woman. Criseyde must betray Troilus because a mirror reflects what is in front of it” (Mieszkowski 130). 

 

Criseyde is a complex character despite her being a mere reflection of patriarchal expectations of women. The disjunction between her thoughtfulness and her lack of outward integrity or power makes her seem cowardly and like a true traitor to Troilus, but the reality is wider than the microcosm that is their brief and passionate love affair. Chaucer subtly implies that Criseyde merely reflects Troilus’ thoughts, emotions, and behaviors through their mirrored language and parallel construction of select scenes where they are alone. Whenever something happens to Troilus, it must also happen to Criseyde—when Troilus gets angry, Criseyde gets angry; when Troilus physically weakens due to the pain of being separated from her, Criseyde must as well. It is evident from the text alone that Criseyde mirrors Troilus in these various ways, but secondary scholarship has picked up on that theme as well. Mieszkowski, Martin, and Wetherbee all use imagery of mirrors to emphasize the passivity implied in reflectivity and apply that dynamic to Criseyde to foreground the patriarchal “social restraints and precarious circumstances” that subjugate her throughout the story and explain her extreme passivity and lack of self—qualities that make it easy to blame Criseyde for her betrayal (Wetherbee, “Narrator” 194). Because she is a mirror of Troilus and the other men in her life, as demonstrated by the language of the story and noted by secondary scholarship, the external patriarchal societal factors impacting her ability (or lack thereof) to make decisions become elucidated, and her decision to not return to Troilus becomes less of a choice and more of a forced reality. 

 

The effect of the story’s mirrored language for Troilus and Criseyde as individuals urges the reader to see how society impacts Criseyde’s ability to exercise her own autonomy and how that subjugation frames her as the traitor. As Wetherbee states in “Criseyde Alone,” “[i]n a world where her security has depended upon her ability to effectively mirror male expectations and desires, she has never really seen the possibility of autonomy. [...] Troilus and Pandarus know only that she has betrayed them” (325). The men in her life will never understand her powerlessness because they are a part of the patriarchy which upholds the structures that subjugate her; Criseyde becomes a traitor due to lack of sympathy and understanding, not in actuality.

​

Glossary

shende - disgrace 

drede - dread, fear 

heith - hurry 

eek - also

smerte - fiercely, vigorously 

sonnish - sunnish, sun-like

hewe - hue

rewe - take pity 

lene - lean

potente - crutch 

limes - limbs

agroos - feared

Works Cited

 

Chaucer, Geoffrey. “Troilus and Criseyde.” The Norton Chaucer, edited by David Lawton et al., W.W. Norton & Company, 2019, pp. 754–944.

​

Martin, Priscilla. Chaucer’s Women: Nuns, Wives, and Amazons. 1st ed, University of Iowa Press, 1990.

 

Mieszkowski, Gretchen. “Chaucer’s Much Loved Criseyde.” The Chaucer Review, vol. 26, no. 2, 1991, pp. 109–32.

 

Wetherbee, Winthrop. “Character and Action: Criseyde and the Narrator.” Chaucer and the Poets: An Essay on Troilus and Criseyde, Cornell University Press, 2016, pp. 179–204.

 

Wetherbee, Winthrop. “Criseyde Alone.” New Perspectives on Criseyde, edited by Cindy L. Vitto and Marcia Smith Marzec, Pegasus Press, 2004.

  • Instagram
bottom of page