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Cast out of the royal court by Eleanor of Aquitaine, deemed too coarse and rough-hewn for marriage or courtly life, seventeen-year-old Marie de France is sent to England to be the new prioress of an impoverished abbey, its nuns on the brink of starvation and beset by disease. At first taken aback by the severity of her new life, Marie finds focus and love in collective life with her singular and mercurial sisters. In this crucible, Marie steadily supplants her desire for family, for her homeland, for the passions of her youth with something new to her: devotion to her sisters, and a conviction in her own divine visions. Marie, born the last in a long line of women warriors and crusaders, is determined to chart a bold new course for the women she now leads and protects. But in a world that is shifting and corroding in frightening ways, one that can never reconcile itself with her existence, will the sheer force of Marie's vision be bulwark enough? Equally alive to the sacred and the profane, Matrix gathers currents of violence, sensuality, and religious ecstasy in a mesmerizing portrait of consuming passion, aberrant faith, and a woman that history moves both through and around. Lauren Groff's new novel, her first since Fates and Furies, is a defiant and timely exploration of the raw power of female creativity in a corrupted world.… (more)
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Marie’s visions of the Virgin Mary and Eve inspire grand projects designed to fortify the abbey and keep troublesome men at bay. Marie skilfully cultivates the support of Queen Eleanor through a combination of diplomacy and payments into the royal coffers. Groff surrounds Marie with a highly capable staff, who repeatedly push the boundaries of what were considered appropriate roles for women in the Middle Ages. Marie commands respect, but more than that this community of women share a deep love for one another.
The voices of women in the Middle Ages were largely silenced and ignored by historians. Matrix was a refreshing celebration of the power of the feminine.
Matrix is a novel that creates the life of Marie de France, a 12th century abbess and writer. There is very little actually known about her, so Groff has plenty of room to create the character she desires without worrying about appeasing historical experts. She creates a
The book has almost no mention of men in it, and I enjoyed imagining the lives of women in the 1100s, relying on each other to create a life worth living.
In the ideal abbey, the nuns are liberated from the demands that society places upon other women. They are free to create their own little haven, free to love each other any way they like, free to posit a divine
Under the patronage of Eleanor of Acquitaine, 12th-century Marie de France does all of this and more, starting with a poor abbey with a few underfed, demoralized nuns. She exerts amazing leadership as Abbess while becoming an author, poet, mystic, and legend.
Marie's abbey is sometimes rocked by corruption in Rome, the vicissitudes of politics, and even sometimes the demanding extremes of Marie's ambitions. The nuns must be ready to pay any tax or tribute that the authorities demand. This doesn't stop them from creating an extraordinary world that is almost like an empire, on their secluded and blessed isle. As always when women carve out exclusive space, men are both suspicious and intrusive.
This is a tour de force with compelling characterization—a hard-hitting feminist novel that rivals the best fiction of Rumer Godden on the monastic life. Groff invites the reader to imagine a history in which religion was shaped not by warriors, monks, and male church councils, but by muscular mystic nuns like Marie who simply crave scholarship, love, and peace.
Groff's Marie is the child of rape by a high-ranking Plantagenet (perhaps even the king himself). Fascinated by the queen, Eleanor of Acquitane, Marie followed her in a Crusade and then on to England, but her unusual size, homely countenance, and intellect were perhaps the cause of her being sent to an abbey at age 17 instead of into the arms of an eager husband. Marie, once she has completed her course as a novice, will become the head of this downtrodden abbey whose numbers have been depleted by disease and hunger. [The Matrix] is the story of Marie coming into her own, realizing that this company of women of faith can achieve amazing things.
Groff is obviously familiar with the theory that a religious life was not always a calling from God, a punishment for sins, or an exile for unmarriageable daughters: it often opened doors to freedom and opportunity unavailable to those who chose the familiar route of marriage, motherhood, and subservience to men. As abbess, Marie is able to flex her significant skills in business, land management, leadership, and diplomacy. At times it would seem that she is bringing the abbey to the brink of disaster, but more often she achieves astonishing success, and the sisterhood flourishes.
So yes, this is a feminist tale, but it is also a very human one. Groff develops wonderful secondary characters, both inside the abbey and in the surrounding village, and each has a unique relationship with Marie. And despite Eleanor's apparent cruelty in sending her away from court, Marie cannot break her bond with the aging queen, finally recognizing how much, despite outward appearances, the two women have in common.
I would urge you to overlook many of the nitpicking criticisms of the novel that, in the end, have little bearing on its wonderfulness. It doesn't matter that she borrows details from the like of Marie, Abbess of Shaftesbury. It doesn't matter that there is hardly any mention of the lais aside from Groff's contention that they were written to impress Elanor. This is, after all, a work of historical fiction, designated by the author at 'The Matrix: A NOVEL' (not a biography and not a history). Enter Marie's world with an open mind, and I think you will enjoy and admire it as much as I did.
Let’s start off reviewing Lauren Groff’s latest, Matrix, by remembering another Matrix, perhaps the springboard for the novel, Marie de France. This Marie, like Groff’s Marie, lived in the 12th century, was of French origin, of Aquitaine, living most of her
The novel opens with Marie at 17 sent away from Eleanor of Aquitaine’s court to the poorest of poor abbeys in England to serve as prioress under the aging abbess. She, of course, hates being tossed out by Eleanor, whom she adores, but in due course forms bonds, one intimate, with other new members. Almost from the beginning, she works to make improvements, and with the passing of the abbess assumes the role herself. She expands the holdings of the abbey and its income by bringing the nobles of the region to heel. She organizes her charges into productive groups managing all the affairs of the abbey, from field, to bakery, to infirmary, to their spiritual lives, and as she does, allows the women to take solace in themselves. And all this, the good and the bad, she diligently records in her personal papers kept secret during her life but discovered by the new abbess upon her death, suffering a fate the real life Marie de France didn’t, at least not totally.
As Marie de France imbued her work with the details of life and realistic views of life as it was lived, so Groff provides a good deal of background detailing the grittiness of life in the High Middle Ages and of a woman who carves her place in her times by asserting herself on many levels, among them as the matrix, or mother, of a community of women who prosper on their own.
I do wonder whether Groff set out to propound the life of a saint, but it doesn’t matter. The life she provides us is, in the most straightforward way, that of a woman of vast abilities and an indomitable will. She carves out for herself and her “daughters”—the nuns in her care—an island of safety and devotion in a very hostile and suspicious world. She guides her charges through treacherous times; she takes over an impoverished abbey and and guides it through the “interesting times” of Richard the Lionheart versus his royal brother John, all the while building its holdings—a labyrinth confounds outsiders who would broach the defenses—and it becomes the leading abbey in terms of wealth and prestige on the entire British island.
Groff endows her heroine with impressive political savvy and resourcefulness—this is my favorite feature of the character and the novel. This shrewdness serves her well with her ongoing jousts with the outside world, particularly with her monarch and former close associate, Empress Eleanor. Marie also must call upon her wits when dealing with the sometimes rebellious nuns serving under her. The author handles these episodes with a deft touch, showing the abbess’s intelligence and indomitability in shining, gratifying form.
So this is a book portraying a petit monarch, a woman who decides to build an impregnable fortress-like settlement for herself as much as for English nuns. Groff shows her further assurance (as though any were necessary) as a novelist of the very first rank. Unreservedly: take it up!
The only similarity to her previous books was that the abbey was a closed society moving towards a kind of utopia. I loved how Marie could see her way to the future, even
Marie, illegitimate half-sister of Henry II, is an unattractive giantess with no marriage prospects, and so is bundled off to a remote impoverished Abbey by Henry's wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine. Taking on a role she never would have chosen for herself, Marie eventually turns the fortunes of the Abbey around, making it prosperous, directing feats of engineering that result in the design and execution of an elaborate protective labyrinth, a fine Mother House, and a dam with a system of locks to assure a constant supply of water for the sisters, their animals and gardens. This is a world not just run by women, but exclusively for women. Wealthy widows confer hefty dowries on the Abbey in exchange for the opportunity to live out their remaining days in peaceful refuge. After one unfortunate incident involving a crew of what Marie had considered necessary workmen, she resolved that never again would men be allowed into the Abbey for any reason. Not even priests were exempt from the proscription. When Marie assumed the priestly duties of saying Mass and hearing confessions, it was nearly her downfall, but she remained steadfast and prevailed even in this. This novel has nearly everything...lovely prose, crystalline characters, historical detail, drama, sexual tension, mild suspense, hints of royal intrigue. (Oh, and it might just expand your vocabulary, as it certainly did mine.)
The curse of being a specialist in any topic is that it becomes very hard to enjoy media about that topic. In this case, I studied medieval history in graduate school and found myself yelling at this book too much to enjoy it. A few particular things
If a book is good enough, I can put aside my critiques and enjoy it, but I wasn't finding much that was redeeming in this book. Marie is not particularly likeable, at least in the opening chapters, and I didn't find anything compelling in her story.
Her writing is incandescent and, occasionally, over the top. This is easily forgiven
I felt a bit at a loss at times. Marie is like a superhero, managing everything from crusades to construction with ease. I’d like to have seen some of her learning, figure out how she set up spies and informers to keep the Abbey safe, how she persuaded people to pay and support her. Instead she just strides places and rules with her height and “ugly” face… Apparently the real Marie was an accomplished poet; this is barely mentioned here.
It was also hard to care for the characters- they are often described like lush paintings- rich but ultimately flat. Still, I couldn’t put the book down, excited to see what the nuns would do next. There are threats mentioned but they don’t seem real. In fact the entire book reads like an immersion into the senses and taken as that it is quite enjoyable. The writing is splendid.
Lauren Groff writes beautifully of both the harsh realities of life at that time and of the creation of a vibrant community of women, existing outside of patriarchal society they are surrounded by. This is an unusual angle to look at this time and place, from the point of view of an unbeautiful older woman in a position of power.
And this surprised me. I really enjoyed it (other than the fact that there are no hummingbirds outside of North/South America and the Caribbean--certainly not in 12th century England! p 83). I also don't read a lot of historical fiction taking place in the Middle Ages--now I want to read [book:The Care of Nuns: The Ministries of Benedictine Women in England During the Central Middle Ages|42686873], the book and author of which is the first paragraph of Groff's acknowledgements and is much more my style.
Here we have a vaguely historic figure, about which little is known (even her name). Groff has run with this possible real person (one person? more than one?) and created solid historical fiction utilizing historical research done by actual historians. To make her character illegimate is clever, it explains both her upper class/royal origin that is assumed because of her literacy, while also explaining her invisibility in the records. Making her a high-ranking nun also sounds feasible. But creating this amazing community of women, with their various skills, working together to create wealth, health, happiness, good works, and more is so unlikely but is also just dreamy. So many women were given to the nuns by their own families because of poverty, perceived weakness or ugliness, the desire to bribe the church or God--many of these women had no choice but to be sent to the church. Groff's vision to let these women find their own strength is magnificent.
And I want to read The Care of Nuns to see if any of this could even be possible LOL.