It was through the adaptation and “translation” of a British work (though composed in Latin) that Arthurian legend was brought to and popularized in France. This of course was Wace’s Norman adaption of Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britannaie in 1155. This sparked a series of French authors to take up Arthurian lore, in Beroul, Marie de France, Chrétien de Troyes, and Robert de Boron.
So it is fitting then that it was through adaptation and “translation” of this French evolution of Arthurian legends that the Arthurian literature was brought to and popularized in Germany. Hartmann Von Aue’s 1180 adaptation of Chrétien’s Erec and later of Ivain brought the legends to German audiences, who apparently spent the next century adoring everything Arthurian. Like Wace’s import decades earlier, Hartmann’s inspired a series of German writers to take up Arthurian lore: Ulrich Von Zatzikhoven, Wolfram von Eschenbach, Gottfried von Strasbourg, and Der Stricker.
Hartmann’s Erec obviously owes much to Chrétien’s Erec and Enide, which he alludes to more than once in his poem, and also to the Welsh Gereint and Enid. The same basic story and characters and events are in his version. Erec wins his wife’s hand through acts of valor in avenging the violence of a dwarf in the service of a knight. After they are married Erec sets aside adventuring to remain forever at his lover’s side. This tarnishes his honor, and Enide reveals to him the shame she feels for his newly ruined reputation. Bitterly, he sets forth to find high adventure and reclaim his honor, and drags her along for the ride. His treatment of Enide transforms into a venomous cruelty, and over the course of the story he achieves moderation in his emotions, a changed perspective, a view of his proper place and temperament.
Erec’s adventures here are the same as they are in the other versions of the tale. There are encounters with forest robbers, lustful counts, terrible giants, ladies and knights in distress, life threatening injuries, courageous deeds, and the climax in the mysterious Joy of the Court. There is copious atmosphere and meticulous description of the beauty, intricacy, and glory of things. Hartmann makes excellent turns of phrase in describing knightly strength and courage, or a woman’s beauty or disposition, or a castle’s fortifications, or the luxuriant designs within a lord’s manner or upon a saddle or in a room’s furnishings. His poetry, turned here into prose, is still alive in translation. He becomes transfixed with the virtuous aspects of a person, or a villain’s cruelty, or an object of awesome power or magic.
His narrator takes on an engaging persona, having feigned conversations with the audience, or interjecting his musings on the substance of the story. Even his digressions into things as seemingly mundane as the elaborate designs on a saddle become multidimensional explorations of a storyteller’s engagement with his audience, from which he makes even further and more amusing digressions.
The story is, like Chrétien’s, ornamented in mystical Christian imagery and mythos, but with a sense of worldly, courtly ethics that supplants any notion of being a religiously oriented story. There is a fluctuation of mood and feeling throughout the story, starting with Erec’s embarrassment, then raised spirits after his victory and marriage, then a return to grief in his shame. This begins a long sequence of mourning for Enite, as she suffers along the course of their adventure. The contrasting glory and joy that ends the story brings it to about the highest note possible. But between these points they encounter much hardship, meet others who are experiencing their own tragedies and nightmares, and still they march forward. Enite’s lamentations when she thinks Erec has died take on a hysterical, suicidal, amplified mourning that was not present in Chrétien’s telling. However, her inner monologue of lamentation while being dragged on this grueling journey that revealed such a depth in Chrétien’s version is absent here.
A few other contrasts are worth noting. Hartmann replaces Chrétien’s financial metaphors in the early battle between Erec and Iders with dice and board game metaphors. They’re a little less well placed but serve to illustrate the nature of their battle in an amusing way. He leaves out much of the explicit violence and gore in Erec’s many battles, lessening their intensity, also shortening some of them so as to be almost not worth mentioning. Only the final battle against the Red Knight Mabonagrin possesses most of the intensity and excitement seen in the French version, but still with less severe violence.
Hartmann’s depiction of the Joy of the Court strips it almost entirely of the air of mystery it was given in Chrétien’s telling, but it still bleeds with the doom and ominous danger that it has had ever since it appeared in the Mabinogion, with heads of fallen knights placed on stakes around the garden to warn would-be adventures of their fate.
Although he cuts some from his telling, Hartmann also adds plenty of his own material and style. One of the most notable additions is his fleshing out of Arthur’s sister, Morgan, mentioned briefly in other stories as possessing magical abilities. Hartmann, naming her Famurgan and claiming her to be dead, expands her story, and describes her powers of sorcery: she is said to have been a goddess, she could teleport, fly, walk on water, breath underneath it, could bathe in flame, transform men into animals, had control of demons, was in league with Satan, and could call down dragons from the skies. So too had she mastered the handling and use of all herbs, making her an unrivaled healer. And so her magical bandages of healing are used to bring Erec back from the brink of death after he has almost died of wounds in his combat with the short lord Guivreiz.
It is an excellent tale, a strange and beautiful Arthurian epic that, like the others, barely features Arthur at all except as the aged and esteemed king. The world in which this is set, a medieval, but enchanted and mystical, dangerous Britain is realized fully in Hartmann’s story, as it was in Chrétien’s. Though they are different in character and detail, their similarities are so numerous that they solidify aspects of this legend into a shape that is immortal, timeless.