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Queerness and Homophobia in Sir Gawain and The Green Knight and Sir Lanval

By Fynn Wadsworth ’25

ENGL 251: Monsters and Monstrosity in English Lit.

This assignment invited students to pursue José Esteban Muñoz’s way of looking at the past as “a field of possibility in which subjects can act in the present in the service of a new futurity,” meaning seeing the pastas not distant, lost, and inherently inferior to the present, but instead as close, possible, and offering models of thinking and living that we might choose to adopt in the present. Fynn addressed this prompt by reading two medieval English poems through the lens of queer theory, and his argument ultimately illustrates what we in the present have to gain from paying nuanced attention to evidence of queerness in the past.

-Dr. Valerie Billing


In the early English texts Sir Lanval and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, we get two terribly similar knightly characters who can be read as at least somewhat queer. Both men’s stories have them battling the temptations of a woman, and yet both men have moments in their stories which call into question their attraction to women. Analyzing these stories by ignoring these moments of queerness does them a disservice and ignores what these texts can show us about queerness in the Medieval period. Queerness is often treated as something that has no history, and it recently has become a talking point as something that is a part of the Gen-Z youth culture exclusively. These two texts actively combat that idea by exploring queer themes and create a window into Medieval perceptions of gay men, queer relationships, and homophobia.

In Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the queerness is quite forwardly present. The game of wagers Gawain enters with Bertilak involves an exchange of winnings at the end of each day. In Bertilak’s case, this means whatever game he caught in the hunt that day. In Gawain’s, it means returning kisses gathered from Bertilak’s own wife. On the surface, I think the queerness can easily be glossed over as “the rules” of the game Gawain is playing, but I see more in the two men’s exchanges. See this example from the second day of the game:

 

“Now Gawain,” said the lord, “I give you this game,

as our wager warranted, as well as you remember.”

“Certainly,” said Sir Gawain. “It shall be so.

And graciously I shall give you my gain in exchange.”

He catches him by the neck and courteously kisses him,

Then a second time issues him in a similar style. (237)

 

These lines without context give little to a queer reading, but taken with added understanding of the game Gawain is engaged in changes some of the intent here. Gawain is exchanging not only kisses here, but also the exchange with Bertilak’s wife. She is explicitly attracted to Gawain, seeking a sexual relationship with him each morning of the game. She continues to give more and more to Gawain as he continues to refuse her advances, until he finally accepts her gift of the green girdle on day three. The two men, naturally, have another interaction at the end of this day:

 

“I shall first fulfill our formal agreement

which we had fixed in words when the drinks flowed freely.”

He clasps him tight and kisses him three times

with as much emotion as the man could muster.

“By the Almighty,” said the master, “you must have had luck

to profit such a prize—if the price was right.”

“Oh fiddlesticks to the fee,” said the other fellow. (244)

 

We see the stakes of the game reach higher and higher, and yet Gawain and Bertilak seem only more enthused by the arrangement as the days go on. In the story, we see both sides of Bertilak’s game. The stories are interwoven, we seen Gawain’s interactions with Bertilak’s wife, followed by Bertilak hunting, and then we see the two men reunite at the end of the day and exchange winnings. To me, this implies a direct correlation between the two sides of the game. While one is less direct, Bertilak and his wife are both working towards the same goal: pursuing Gawain.

To explain, they both receive the same treatment, and Gawain seems willing to participate in either arrangement. There is no hesitation, no questioning, and no backlash from Gawain, all things I would expect in a story like this where the queerness was not explicitly stated. There is a liberating feeling in the way the queer undertones of the story are told, without further explanation or justification. I think this feeling could be said for Gawain as well. The man we see in Bertilak’s castle is vastly different than the man we see outside of it.

Before and after Gawain’s altercations with Bertilak and The Green Knight, we see Gawain constantly struggling with his faith and sin. How these themes can connect to queerness is not lost on me, and I find it fascinating how Gawain’s only moments of peace seem to be in this castle where sins of the flesh lack consequences. Gawain’s game where he can freely explore his own bisexuality ends with no punishment; The Green Knight never blames Gawain for anything except lying about the girdle. Despite this, as Gawain returns home, we see a man racked with guilt who talks of nothing but sin, disgrace and being tainted by untruth. A story that should have ended with a joyous renewal of faith does not seem to reward Gawain the same peace he’d felt earlier in

Bertilak’s castle once he finally returns home. I do not think a queer audience would find this ending for Gawain satisfying, and I certainly agree. The way Gawain is given space to explore, relax, and be openly queer inside the walls of Bertilak’s castle only to have it all ripped away once he returns home feels far too familiar. As a queer person I immediately ache for the person Gawain could’ve been if he never had to return home.

Sir Lanval, in some way, explores the idea of running away that we don’t get to see in Gawain’s story. Although the romance is purely between Lanval and his female amie, Lanval carries queer themes throughout his story. The most obvious, being the accusation Queen Guinevere holds against him, seen here:

 

“Lanval,” she said, “I know, I sense you do not care for dalliance

but it is often rumored, sire, for women you have no desire!

But youths and squires, well-trained young men You seek out: you disport with them.

Oh, coward! Boor! Unnatural, your service to my lord, Lanval!

He has lost God—I fear it—since

he’s known your vicious influence!” (177)

 

Here, Guinevere very blatantly and openly accuses Laval of being gay for not wanting to sleep with her.

As far as the audience knows, this isn’t the case. We’ve only seen Laval interact with his female love interest thus far, but to a queer audience this starts to change the context of Laval’s story. Lanval having to keep his relationship a secret, even at his own downfall, reads as another familiar queer trope. Not only is Lanval not believed when he tries to explain his relationship, he’s then punished for not loving the way he’s expected to. His plight is well illustrated here:

 

“His grief they made reproaches of, cursing his ludicrous, mad love.

Each day the barons came to call; they wanted to be sure Lanval ate and drank, did so properly.

They feared he might go mad and die.” (180)

 

Lanval is being put to trial over who he loves, and I feel as though any modern audience could see this as queer. He is miserable and waiting for death and yet, is still not helped or believed. Eventually, he is saved by his lover. She, quite literally, outs herself as being both magical and being Laval’s lover. Lanval gets to leave the society he once existed in that held him back, unhindered by anyone or anything that had previously berated him.

Further, Lanval’s characterization thus far has not had the usual flair of masculinity seen in many knightly tales. He is quite a pensive, emotional, and lonely character throughout the text, and when paired with Guinevere’s accusation I start to see a quite common queer trope being presented in this story. From his lack of interest in marriage or courting, to his quiet and thoughtful personality, we see Laval fit into stereotypes often seen from media featuring queer men. He seems distant from his other knights, the only mention we get of any friendships between Lanval and anyone else are found in the accusation he receives, where it is claimed that he’s a bad influence on King Arthur. The only real connection we see during the story is with his amie, who is already completely outside of the society that Lanval himself seems so distant from. He is devastated when they are separated and is desperate to keep the relationship a secret so he can keep the connection from severing.

The queerness of Sir Lanval is in its themes, and how it blends ideas of secrecy, exceptions, and persecution to ultimately tell a story about love transcending all these things. Lanval does not have to end up with a man to tell a queer love story here, because his story features so many facets of a non-traditional love.

Both of these stories have unbelievably thoughtful queer themes, and although we’ll never how the queerness in these stories was meant to be perceived, they both still hold value to any queer reader. It’s unbelievably refreshing to read stories so old that you can see pieces of yourself and your community in, and these stories both evoke that feeling. Gawain and Lanval both feel, to me, to be beautiful explains of the longstanding history of queerness. These two men’s fascinating stories are an assurance that queerness is something both storyteller and audience found valuable enough to explore in their works, and further to be something that generation after generation has found value in preserving. They both contain valuable insights into the past and present of queerness, and those themes deserve to be both explored and celebrated.

Works Cited

de France, Marie. “Sir Lanval .” The Norton Anthology of English Literature, 10th ed., A, W.W.
Norton & Company Inc., New York, NY, 2018, pp. 171–185.

“Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.” The Norton Anthology of English Literature, 10th ed., W.W. Norton and
Company Inc., New York, NY, 2018, pp. 204–256.