Abelard and Heloise
are one of the most celebrated
couples of all time, known for their love affair... and for the tragedy that
separated them.
In a letter to Abelard, Heloise
wrote: "You know, beloved, as the whole world knows, how much I have lost
in you, how at one wretched stroke of fortune that supreme act of flagrant
treachery robbed me of my very self in robbing me of you; and how my sorrow for
my loss is nothing compared with what I feel for the manner in which I lost
you."
It's perhaps the most tragic love
story ever ... Abelard and Heloise were two well-educated people, brought
together by their passion, then separated by the act of her uncle's vengeance.
Peter Abelard (1079-1142) was a
French philosopher, considered one of the greatest thinkers of the 12th
century. Among his works is "Sic et Non," a list of 158 philosophical
and theological questions. His teachings were controversial, and he was
repeatedly charged with heresy. Even with the controversy that surrounded him
at times, nothing probably prepared him for the consequences of his love affair
with Heloise, a relationship destined to change his life in dramatic ways.
Heloise (1101-1164) was the niece
and pride of Canon Fulbert. She was well-educated by her uncle in Paris.
Abelard later writes in his "Historica Calamitatum": "Her
uncle's love for her was equaled only by his desire that she should have the
best education which he could possibly procure for her. Of no mean beauty, she
stood out above all by reason of her abundant knowledge of letters."
Wishing to become acquainted with
Heloise, Abelard persuaded Fulbert to allow him to teach Heloise. Using the
pretext that his own house was a "handicap" to his studies, Abelard
further moved in to the house of Heloise and her uncle. She was supposedly a
great beauty, one of the most well-educated women of her time; so, perhaps it's
not surprising that Abelard and she became lovers. Also, she was more than 20
years younger than Abelard... And, of course, Fulbert discovered their love, as
Abelard would later write: "Oh, how great was the uncle's grief when he
learned the truth, and how bitter was the sorrow of the lovers when we were
forced to part!"
They were separated, but that didn't
end the affair. Instead, they discovered that Heloise was pregnant... She left
her uncle's house when he was not at home; and she stayed with Abelard's sister
until Astrolabe was born.
Abelard asked for Fulbert's
forgiveness, and permission to marry Heloise; then with Fulbert's assent,
Abelard tried to persuade Heloise to marry him. In Chapter 7 of "Historia
Calamitatum," Abelard wrote: "She, however, most violently
disapproved of this, and for two chief reasons: the danger thereof, and the
disgrace which it would bring upon me... What penalties, she said, would the
world rightly demand of her if she should rob it of so shining a light!"
When she finally agreed to become
Abelard's wife, Heloise told him, "Then there is no more left but this,
that in our doom the sorrow yet to come shall be no less than the love we two
have already known." In regard to that statement, Abelard later wrote, in
his "Historica," "Nor in this, as now the whole world knows, did
she lack the spirit of prophecy."
Secretly married, the couple left
Astrolabe with Abelard's sister. When Heloise went to stay with the nuns at
Argenteuil, her uncle and kinsmen believe Abelard had cast her off, forcing her
to become a nun.
Violently
incensed, they laid a plot against me, and one night while I all unsuspecting
was asleep in a secret room in my lodgings, they broke in with the help of one
of my servants whom they had bribed. There they had vengeance on me with a most
cruel and most shameful punishment, such as astounded the whole world; for they
cut off those parts of my body with which I had done that which was the cause
of their sorrow. The most interesting part of the story is the relationship
that grew out of the tragedy...
In his "Historia
Calamitatum," Abelard wrote: "Often the hearts of men and women are
stirred, as likewise they are soothed in their sorrows more by example than by
words. And therefore... am I now minded to write of the sufferings which have
sprung out of my misfortunes..."
The story of Abelard and Heloise is
tragic, but what's more important to literature and history is what happened
after the agony was over...
Both Peter Abelard and Heloise
continued to go on living, to write, to love, to contribute to our literary
history. They didn't kill themselves, or marry anyone else (unless you count
the fact that both married the church). Heloise asks for his words, saying:
"While I am denied your presence, give me at least through your words--of
which you have enough and to spare--some sweet semblance of yourself."
She ends the letter with: "I beg you, think what you owe me, give ear to
my pleas, and I will finish a long letter with a brief ending: farewell, my
only love."
To her passionate letters, he
responds in part: "If since our conversion from the world to God I have
not yet written you any word of comfort or advice, it must not be attributed to
indifference on my part but to your own good sense... I did not think you would
need these things..."
How do two lovers part after such a
short time, with such a terrible end and no real beginning? They had been so
close. And, then their only link is through their letters, and the works that
Abelard left behind.
Heloise speaks of losing Abelard:
"But if I lose you, what have I left to hope for? Why continue on life's
pilgrimage, for which I have no support but you, and none in you save the
knowledge that you are alive, now that I am forbidden all other pleasures in
you and denied even the joy of your presence which from time to time could
restore me to myself?"
In a
response to the Abelard and Heloise article, Patricia Hamill writes: "I
wanted to write to you regarding your comment that this is 'one of the greatest
love stories of all time.' I think this is a misleading statement and grievous
misrepresentation of their history."
Hamill further writes: "Two people in a relationship, tragic or
triumphant, does not make a love story. A close reading of these letters and
the political and religious climate in which they lived, tells us that,
although they had been in a relationship that even produced a child, their
story is more about patriarchal prerogatives of the time and the victimization
and marginalization of women, rather than two lovers torn apart. Abelard was
willing to shun her. She spent her years chiding him in her letters for his
faults. Her successes as an abbess were conducted under duress, not in willing
servitude. It is a tragic relationship, but it is not a love story. I think
their letters should be read to supplement studies in the history of
patriarchy, given a feminist reading as well, and included in studies of the
history of religion, rather than being headlined as a romance where the
substance of this woman and the utter self absorption of the scholar are
overlooked in favor of a sigh."
This response was written by Patricia Hamill, Assistant Editorial Coordinator,
Educational Testing Services. This response is reprinted, with permission from
Patricia Hamill.
In a
response to the Patricia Hamill commentsm MaryEllen O'Brien writes: "I
just had a comment in response to Patricia Hamill's take on your article on
Heloise and Abelard.
"I think she does a terrible disservice to the couple in projecting
post-modern sensibilities onto their relationship—-and in so doing, perverting
their love with contemporary issues. It is true that this was a partriarchal
tragedy in one sense, but it most definitely and unreservedly was also a love
story of immense proportions. Were it not so, it would not still be speaking to
us centuries later with its love and pathos.
"I think if Heloise were to read Patricia's response, she would be
horrified at the inability to recognize the love story. Passion is always
greatest when there are obstacles—-all the great love stories that capture us
have this characteristic. Heloise was perfectly well aware of Abelard's
shortcomings and escape into the cloister--and she continued to press him to do
right by her with their relationship. They lived in the 12th century--we can't
impose our reality on them; rather we can join them in their love, sorrow and joy;
walk with them--not beat either one of them up.
"At that time the Church was all institution and control, and the sense we
have in the Church today of being the People of God and of ownership of our own
church did not exist. The institution preferred a maimed Abelard to a married
one, a eunuch for the Church, and thought nothing of the fate of Heloise or
their child. The institution owned Abelard. That is a tragedy, but it does not
make 'not a love story.' It is a love story smashing up against the asexual
institution. It obviously caused a crack in the wall! It has echoes of Saint
Augustine's bowing to societal and church pressure and abandoning his love,
whom he describes as being ripped from his side in the 'Confessions.' And yet,
he went along with it. They too had a child, though he was involved in his
son's life. We hear the male side of the struggle in 'Confessions,' he really
did love her, and no one can say this was not a love story either. Does Ms.
Hamill think it's only a love story if there's a happy ending? Marriage, dual
career and 2.2 kids?
"Enough demands were made on these two by other people in their own time,
they do not need the demands of a contemporary feminist judgment disturbing
their final peace. That is anachronistic.
"Let's celebrate Heloise's immense and indestructible love, it's rare
enough — this was one of history's great loves!"
This response was written by MaryEllen O'Brien, M.A. (Ph.D. candidate). This
response is reprinted, with permission from MaryEllen O'Brien.
"Special Thanks : http://classiclit.about.com"
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