Analysis

The Oakridge Cranium - Medieval rhinotomy on display - is tangible proof of how dangerous it was for the women of that time to deviate from their social scripts. After all, Bisclavret is, among other things, a story about the importance of etiquette. It does not matter that Bisclavret is a wolf because he is chivalrous and polite to the king. His wife, on the other hand, breaks social norms by violating the sanctity of marriage as she subverts traditional male-female power dynamics. By stealing his clothes, Bisclavret’s wife relegates him to his animal form, rendering him the weaker party and taking his power. This, I believe, was Bisclavret’s wife’s greatest offence: taking power. As Patricia Skinner notes in her book Living with Disfigurement in Early Medieval Europe: “[Women were] the second and secondary sex. They were not—in theory at least—permitted to have authority over men, to teach, to stray beyond their allotted role of obedient daughters, wives and mothers.” (133). Bisclavret’s removal of her nose, as consequence, is significant. In historical tradition, the removal of a nose from a statue indicates that figure’s lose of power (Cole et al. 1274). This goes even further for women, such as Bisclavret’s wife, who’s only noteworthy trait in the text is her elegance and beauty. Skinner puts it succinctly: “The vulnerability of women, as we have already seen, came from the fact that their faces were, to a certain extent, symbolic of their bodily integrity. A woman or girl with a damaged face was immediately suspect, and her shame reflected upon her family and community.” (145). By taking his wife’s nose, Bisclavret reclaims his power, inverses his position of animal outcast onto her, and renders her and her lineage forever powerless, scorned, and monstrous.

While thinking about Bisclavret’s wife’s reaction to his werewolf revelation, the expression “don’t cut off your nose to spite your face” comes to mind. It’s true that she overreacts. It’s even true that she acts cruelly. And the consequences of her actions come around to bite her in the.. well.. face. But, to me, this lais’ resolution doesn’t feel like justice because Bisclavret’s wife was set up to fail: in this tale, her perspective is silenced and she is dehumanized. And by dehumanizing women, it becomes justifiable to inflict horrifying punishment like rhinotomies upon them, as was the fate of the Medieval girl who has become the Oakridge Cranium, known to history for her skull rather than her personhood. Here lies a certain danger a tale like Bisclavret, especially when taken at face value: by denying any identity to Bisclavret’s wife, despite the central role she plays in the tale, the actions of women like her lose nuance as they are cast into the boxes of dutiful, good; and deceitful, bad. And this loss of identity, as is clear in Bisclavret’s monster-making process, becomes a slippery slope to loss of humanity. Once woman becomes monster, she becomes a danger to be slayed. Once she is monster, inhumane practices like rhinotomy become justified, or, by the measure of Bisclavret, celebrated.