SOURCE: "Hartmann's Erec: The Perils of Young Love," in Seminar, Vol. XIV, No. 1, February, 1978, pp. 1-14.

[In the following excerpt, Tobin examines Erec and Enite's relationship in light of its influence on Erec's knightly duty to pursue adventure.]

Through comments of the narrator and the reactions of the hero's own court Hartmann has supplied us with a basic interpretation of Erec. Out of love for his wife Erec has neglected his courtly duties to society and has failed to pursue knightly activity. This has brought dishonour to his court (2966-98). At the end of the story when he returns to Karnant after a series of successful knightly endeavours, he reaps the praise of the narrator by living ever after a life correctly balanced between his duties to his wife and to knighthood (10, 119-24). Just in case we have missed the point, Hartmann has Gawein admonish Iwein about the dangers of verligen with specific reference to the fate of Erec. Certainly Hartmann cannot be accused of overestimating the interpretive abilities of his audience! And yet these 'messages' in the text may have the opposite effect—that the reader looks upon the whole narrative simply as a corroboration of the message. Thus Ruh aptly warns us [in his Höfische Epik des deutschen Mittelalters (1967)] that the narrator's comments do not do justice to the richness of Hartmann's narratives. Nor should Gottfried's much quoted words about the clarity of Hartmann's diction lead us to infer that he valued a certain naive simplicity in the content of Hartmann's art. After all, his main praise is reserved for the latter's ability to enrich the 'maere beid uzen unde innen / mit worten und mit sinnen,' and to fashion 'der aventiure meine.' The simple interpretation given the story by Gawein would hardly have appealed to the sophisticated Gottfried.

Because of the fine efforts of the past few decades, Kuhn's introductory statement in his ['Erec' in Dichtung und Welt im Mittelalter (1969) that Erec] 'steht, trotz aller Arbeit, die man schon auf ihn verwendet, im ganzen nicht sehr überzeugend vor uns—wenn man es recht besieht sogar mehr wie ein Machwerk' is no longer true in its full application. Yet there are aspects of the story which still need explanation. One of these is what, over and above the basic message already mentioned, the narrative has to say about the relationship between the hero and his wife. Probably everyone agrees … that the series of aventiuren, which make up the bulk of the narrative, serve to test the Liebesgemeinschaft of Eric and Enite. General agreement disappears, however, when one asks, especially regarding Enite, what flaws necessitate the testing of the relationship. Moreover, secondary literature is remarkably silent when it comes to showing in any detail exactly how the aventiuren carry out such testing. It is the purpose of this study to bring some clarity and perspective to the first question and to offer some specific approaches to answering the second.

However, before we begin searching the text for flaws in the protagonist and his wife which might render the corrective experience of the aventiurenweg necessary, a brief consideration of narrative structure can provide orientation. It is generally recognized that the better Arthurian narratives in general and all of Hartmann's narratives (with Der arme Heinrich showing a slight variation) reveal the following structural pattern: 1 / rising action, 2 / happiness achieved, 3 / catastrophe, 4 / second rising action, 5 / stable happiness achieved. The first rising action and attainment of happiness demonstrate admirable qualities in the hero, but the ensuing catastrophe indicates he has not yet achieved the ethical level which the author envisions as the ideal. The first rising action and resulting happiness as well as the persons achieving it can be seen in retrospect as embodying clichés. This is a fact arising from the very structure being employed. To consider the main figures as static entities throughout the narrative who undergo no improvement is to accuse the author of not recognizing the nature of the structure he has chosen.

In Erec both hero and heroine, though the action up to the moment of crisis shows them to possess remarkable and endearing qualities, are little more than courtly stereotypes that need to be called into question. Erec overcomes the dishonour done to him by great physical prowess in defeating Iders. His success is motivated by the standard thoughts of shame endured and Enite's beauty (930-9). In fairy-tale fashion he gains a bride and through superior knightly ability raises her from a lowly condition to queen. He experiences the de rigueur exchange of hearts with her at the tournament (2358-67) before excelling again in knightly combat. Finally he enters into his inheritance and rules justly.

Enite's rise is no less cliché-ridden. Her adverse situation is unable to hide her stunning beauty. She complains bitterly when things are going badly for Erec in his contest with Iders. She is shy and child-like in public (1320). After finally being clothed in accordance with her beauty and goodness upon her arrival at the court of Artus, she captivates the hearts of all, as well she should, and receives in the kiss from Artus the ultimate confirmation of her womanly perfections. During the tournament she looks on and is proud when people praise her husband. She fears losing him but decides that she prefers having a degen for a husband to an arger zage (2628-51). Thus, she attains her rags-to-riches success through stunning beauty and a stereotype show that her heart is in the right place.

What is true of them in general is equally valid for their relationship to each other. Whatever specific reasons for their fall can be adduced, or whatever guilt can be determined, the events and their implications show that their Liebesgemeinschaft, too, had not risen beyond the level of a cliché. For the sake of clarity we shall follow first Enite and then Erec from the moment of crisis and along the path of aventiuren, examining what these tell us of their attitudes towards each other and how these attitudes are shown to change.

While the failings of Erec which cause him to leave Karnant are evident, Enite's possible guilt and her role on the journey are more ambiguous, as the disagreement among critics shows despite their unanimous praise of her. Kuhn mentions in passing the possibility of her being tinged by a kind of 'objective' guilt arising from her existence as a woman but gallantly balances this with an unqualified defence of this perhaps most appealing of Hartmann's female characters. Wapnewski pronounces her free of all guilt and remarks that only the boundlessness of her love could be considered a flaw [Hartmann von Aue (1967)]. Hrubý, in … ["Die Problemstellung in Chrétiens und Hartmanns Erec," Deutsche Vierteljahresschrift für Literatur wissenschaft und Geistesgeschichte, 38 (1964)] sees the aventiurenweg as a Prüfungsfahrt for Enite as well as for Erec, but in a more negative vein regarding the heroine asserts that, although Hartmann generally suppresses the notion of guilt regarding her, she shows a lack of humility in uttering the complaint which led to their journey, as she herself later recognizes. Tax's ["Studien zum Symbolischen in Hartmanns Erec. Enites Pferd, Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie, 82 (1963)] combines an appreciation of her exemplary position with a note of severity. Like her husband she was guilty of concupiscence in her love. Thus the gold that she always was needed purification. [In "Triuwe and Untriuwe in Hartmann's Erec" German Quarterly, 43 (1970)] Wilson also speaks of inordinate aspects in her love for her husband that become evident especially in her neglecting to inform him freely of his sorry condition and of that of his court in Karnant. Ruh, who shares the opinion of Kuhn and Wapnewski that Enite is without subjective guilt, answers that since the husband was clearly dominant in medieval marriages, Enite is not obligated to criticism, nor should such be expected from her. Diverging markedly from these lines of thought is Cramer's view [in "Soziale Motivation in der Schuld-Sühne-Problematik von Hartmann's Erec," Euphorion, 66 (1972)] that Enite's poverty is a social flaw with metaphysical implications which has to be compensated for before her marriage to Erec can rest on a secure foundation.

In attempting to deal with this diversity of opinion we can best begin by again considering a fact of the basic plot structure. As Cramer has noted, Enite, contrary to custom, accompanies her husband on his journey. One reason may be that, just as she has witnessed her husband's shame, so should she witness his efforts to erase it. Also we are later clearly told that Erec's purpose in commanding her to accompany him was to test her (6781-2). Whatever Erec himself conceives the exact nature of this test to be, the very fact that she must go along and be exposed to the dangers of the journey does indeed, quite apart from her husband's intentions, test her and force the articulation of her personality, so that the Enite of the end differs greatly from the newly crowned queen of Karnant. The narrator's reference to gold purified in the fire states this well (6785-6). On the journey Enite does not just observe but participates in most of the action in essential ways, influencing events and being influenced by them. Thus, because of the very mechanics of the literary form employed, Enite and her relationship to her husband must undergo development. That she accompanies Erec does not of itself indicate guilt in the heroine. However, if we admit that in becoming a queen she has not developed beyond a cliché, it becomes clearer why Enite's role in this narrative is quite different from that of the platonic idea of frouwe in the love lyric or of the perfect but static ideal woman represented by Condwiramurs in Parzival. What Kellermann has noted [in "L'adaptation du roman d'Erec et Enide de Chrétien de Troyes par Hartmann von Aue," Mélanges de lange et de litterature du Moyen Age et de la Renaissance, offerts à Jean Frappier (1970)] about the differences in the hero between the French and the German version—that Hartmann's Erec, though a unified character, is unfinished—is equally true regarding the heroine. She is largely an unformed personality, and her love for Erec has not taken on clear definition. Hartmann, in contrast to his source, presents us with a girl whose charm lies mainly in her naiveté. But this endearing quality is not without its problems. What has to be clarified is: What concrete form will her total and simple love of Erec take when confronted by a situation which renders its expression problematic? This, rather than her guilt or innocence, seems to be the central question concerning Enite, if we take our cue from her actions in her dilemma in Karnant and on the aventiurenweg. Before their journey her love is complete but amorphous. The moment of crisis demonstrates the defects of such love. Through the aventiurenweg her love will take on form, allowing it to function correctly in difficult situations.

Hartmann's sympathetic treatment of Enite during the catastrophe should make us wary of judging her too harshly. When she hears of the evil talk going on about Erec and the blame being put on her for his inactivity, she is saddened, 'wan si was biderbe unde guot' (3003). She acknowledges her own guilt in the matter (3007-8), which has caused benevolent critics to protest that this is a magnanimous gesture on her part rather than reflecting the true state of affairs or to explain the guilt as objective, i.e., arising out of her very existence as a lovely and desirable woman. But does not her position as Queen of Karnant demand that she be aware from the beginning of the effect of her marital love on the kingdom? This is of course a lot to expect from someone of such limited experience, but the fact remains that she gives much evidence of not being equal to her role. She does not dare to speak lest she thereby lose her husband (3011-12). Here Hartmann adds an interesting detail (absent in Chrétien) to the bedroom scene where Erec first learns of his wife's discontent. He devotes seven lines to a description of how the sun, 'daz er [sunshine] ir [Erec and Enite] dienest muoste sîn' (3017), illuminates the room, 'daz si sich mohten undersehen' (3022). There follows immediately the description of how Enite begins to ponder their unhappy situation and emits her fateful sigh. These lines can hardly be viewed solely as realistic description. Certainly mention of the sun serves to fix this central scene concretely in our minds, but its more proper function seems rather to be to emphasize that the couple see each other and their true situation with new clarity. This causes estrangement. Instead of two hearts beating as one, we see Enite at first try to deny her true feelings and speak only in the fear that her husband would otherwise accuse her of ander dinge and in the hope that it might still his anger (3038-49). She handles the situation badly, fulfilling her obligation to tell her husband his true condition, yet doing so only under duress and unwillingly. This ambivalence puts their relationship in jeopardy.

In attempting to determine to what extent the author thinks Enite to have failed in her duties or to have incurred guilt, we should consider on the one hand how humanly attractive he has made her, and on the other hand how through the instrumentality of her husband he returns her to the station she had before the sudden rise in her fortunes. She again becomes her husband's groom and remains so until her trials are past. Thus on the aventiurenweg both she and Erec make fresh starts to earn goals already dubiously in their possession.

Since Erec is clearly the protagonist of the piece, we should not expect to be able to explain all the events of the journey in terms of Enite or in terms of Erec's relationship to her. The aventiuren clearly function also in other ways as, for example, to restore Erec's knightly honour. Regarding Enite, however, one basic pattern occurs repeatedly in which she is forced into the same dilemma she faced but did not resolve in the bedroom in Karnant. This fact forces us to reflect on the nature of the aventiurenweg. The allegorical nature of Joie de la curt has been recognized for some time. What has not been fully appreciated is that there are definite allegorical aspects to the entire journey. In the case of Enite, who was unable to cope with clear ethical danger to her husband in Karnant, the recurring dilemma is one involving imminent physical danger. The robber episodes illustrate this well and should, even without the corroboration of later episodes, dispel any doubts about whether or not the author thinks Enite was under obligation to admonish her husband in Karnant.

In both robber episodes her lover and husband is in great danger and, as earlier, Enite alone is aware of it. Here, too, because of the command of silence she risks losing the favour of her lord (and physically her life!), if she speaks. This time, however, she freely and selflessly chooses to warn him and take upon herself whatever risks are entailed in protecting him. What she could not bring herself to do in the case of an ethical danger to her husband, namely, risk their Liebesgemeinschaft in order to make him aware of danger, she does here and thus shows that any complaints she may have uttered were not based on selfish thoughts of damage to her own honour because of his inactivity, but solely for his good.

Certain changes Hartmann has made in adapting Chrétien's version of the robber episodes give added indications as to how he wished the episodes to be understood. First of all, in the second robber episode Chrétien has Erec become aware of the robbers before Enide but feign ignorance in order to force her to speak. Hartmann's Erec engages in no such manipulation. Both times he really is dependent for his well-being on his wife's ability to perceive the danger. Hartmann also emphasizes Enite's utter dependence on her husband. Both times (only once in Chrétien) she is singled out by the first robber as his coveted booty. Thus her warning and Erec's prompt and successful response are absolutely necessary to protect her from certain shame and physical harm. Chrétien has his worldly-wiser Enide recognize and remark on this fact. Hartmann's heroine in keeping with her naiveté and selfless devotion seems totally unaware that in saving Erec she is saving herself. In this respect, too, the parallelism between the physical order and the previous ethical situation can hardly be missed. These episodes make clear to the reader, even if the hero and heroine still remain oblivious to the fact for different reasons, how intricate the bonds are which hold them together and how mutually dependent they are for their very existence.

The first episode with a count, besides repeating the pattern of the dilemma, serves to test Enite in a very direct way. In marrying Erec she had exchanged hardship for social prominence. Would she betray her love for another meteoric rise? As in the previous aventiuren she acts solely for the good of Erec, even if this should bring disadvantage and danger to her. Earlier, marrying Erec and raising herself socially were one and the same action. Here they are opposites. Thus the episode further clarifies and articulates her love.

The first Guivreiz episode, the interlude with Artus, and the saving of Cadoc are concerned mainly with aspects of Erec's knighthood and, aside from reinforcing points already made, yield little to increase our understanding of the problems of Erec and Enite's union. Not until Enite's complaint, when she supposes Erec to be dead, does their union again assume central importance. The function of this klage has been misunderstood by some critics, whose use of it for interpretation reveals a weakness in method. The underlying assumption of these critics is that the correct interpretation of events is expressed by a character in the story. If this assumption is dangerous in general (and, where true, often indicative of a lack of artistry on the part of the author), how much more so in the case of a woman who is beside herself with grief and contemplating suicide. Yet Hrubý in an otherwise sound and valuable piece of scholarship makes this assumption when he concurs with Enite's self-accusation that she is responsible for Erec's death because her sigh was the occasion for the journey, that she has thereby lost body and soul, and that the dissatisfaction which caused the sigh was the work of the devil (5940-73). Cramer on the other hand sees in her dark figure of the tree unable to change its nature by transplantation the confirmation of his thesis that Enite's guilt consists in her poverty. Her attempt at self-destruction, prevented not by any change of heart but only by the timely arrival of Count Oringles, does not deter Willson from characterizing her love for Erec as caritas. If one accepts some of her statements as expressing the intention of the work, is one not bound to accept all such statements as truth unless there is some clear indication to the contrary? Are we, then, also to assume she is correct when she charges God with a lack of mercy or when she blames Erec's sword for his death with the implicit assumption that the danger involved in knightly deeds make them evil? Rather than seek the answer to the guilt question in these anguished laments, we would do better to see in them the confused and contradictory yet eloquent verbal expression of Enite's all-consuming love for Erec which she has already shown so often in deed. Despairing because of his apparent death, she gives clear evidence through behaviour shocking to proponents of mâze and theologians of just how absolute her love is and just how dependent she has made her existence on Erec. If the klage has interpretive value over and above this, it might be sought in determining whether God seems to accept the offer she makes when she wishes to let Erec's life depend on the quality of her love:

unde habe ich mînen man,
sît ich in von êrste gewan,
verworht an ihtes ihte
mit muote oder von geschihte
alsô daz ez niht wol gezimt,
ob mir in dîn gewalt danne nimt,
daz selbe reht vinde ich mir,
wan ichs von rehte danne enbir.
enhân aber ich des niht getân,
des soltû mich geniezen lân:
herre, sô erbarme dich
durch dîne güete über mich
unde heiz mir in leben.
(5808-20)

The Count Oringles episode is clearly the turning-point for Erec and Enite in the perfecting of their relationship. Cramer's characterization of it as 'ein Geflecht von symbolisch zu verstehenden Handlungen und Gesten' is very apt. However, because he considers Enite's poverty together with Erec's failure to see its social and metaphysical implications in marrying her to be the basic cause of their problems, Cramer misses much of the significance of the scene. True, for Enite it represents a third chance (Erec and the first count being the first two) to improve her social position through marriage. But when Cramer sees in her refusal the symbolic reparation for the wrong connected to her marrying Erec, he must overlook her stated reasons for now refusing. She does so not out of any sense of the social impropriety such a marriage would entail, but solely because her devotion to Erec transcends death and renders union with any other man impossible. The absolute triuwe she has shown with almost monotonous regularity in every trying circumstance triumphs here one final time and, by removing any question concerning her relationship to Erec, leads to the reunion of the couple.

In contrast to Enite there is no need to comment on Erec's purpose in embarking on the aventiurenweg. To understand how it changes his attitude towards his wife, we must first briefly examine his relations to her up to the catastrophe. Their marriage, like the persons themselves, rests upon the questionable foundation of fairy-tale or Arthurian clichés. The promise of marriage is incidental to Erec's primary purpose of gaining revenge on Iders. Enite is a pawn to be raised to social prominence in return for the use of desperately needed armour (511-24). At this point her beauty or personal qualities are of secondary concern. Later, however, mutual passionate desire does emerge; and just before the wedding the secret thought of each is 'jâ enwirde ich nimmer vrô, / ich engelige dir noch bî / zwô naht oder drî' (1873-5). From all indications Erec has not gone beyond exploring this aspect of their marriage up to that fateful day when the sun casts its disturbing light into their bedroom and Enite sighs:

… wê, dir, dû vil armer man,
und mir ellendem wîbe
daz ich mînem lîbe
sô manegen vluoch vernemen sol.
(3029-32)

The complaint is couched in such a way that to Erec's ears the reasons motivating it must remain uncertain. Since she had not intended to be heard, her words might well have been prompted by contempt for him or by egotistical self-pity. His immediate reaction, though his refusal to comment directly leaves some ambiguity, can hardly be interpreted otherwise than as an expression of extreme irritation at his wife. The ensuing ill-treatment of her, the command to silence, and the separation toro et mensa coupled with the later remak that he was attempting to determine 'ob si im waere ein rehtez wîp' (6782) indicate the gravity of the doubts he has concerning her which must be settled before they can resume their marriage.

The aventiurenweg, besides serving as a means for Erec to re-establish his knightly honour, is therefore a means for Erec to come to recognize just how much of a rehtez wîp for him Enite is. However, just as with Enite, the journey has also for him an allegorical aspect. The antagonists, at least those in the episodes we have examined concerning Enite, can be shown to embody attitudes present in Erec himself. In overcoming these adversaries Erec overcomes symbolically deficiencies in his attitude towards Enite which, along with his doubts, must be dealt with before their marriage can rest secure.

In besting the robbers, who consider Enite as booty to be won through combat, Erec symbolically divests himself of the assumption implicit in his business transaction with Koralus that she is a prize to be won by overcoming Iders. That any real change in attitude here remains slight is clear from Erec's continued ill-treatment of her, while his tirade against her as an Eve, who only really finds a deed interesting when it has been forbidden (3238-58), shows that he continues to think of her largely in clichés. The minne which Enite arouses in the first count and which the narrator reminds us can be a force for evil as well as good (3691-705) resembles Erec's passion for Enite. In the case of both men minne is the cause of reprehensible behaviour. The triumph over the count indicates a victory over merely impulsive or raw minne.

The morality of Enite's lying to the count is glossed over by the narrator who says did it âne sünde (4026), and perhaps we should follow suit rather than raise it to the dignity of a problem. However, her fabrications do seem to contain some hidden truths about the ambiguity of her position. In her first story she goes beyond the facts in claiming for herself neither geburt nor guot, and she maintains that she suffers Erec's treatment mit rehte (3810-12). When she sees that this approach does not deter the count, she reverses her story and claims to be of higher station than her companion, who had taken her as a mere child mit liste and is therefore an outcast from his own land (3868-84). As we have seen, there is some justification for the hardships she is suffering. And yet her present situation and her husband's absence from his land are due in part to his taking her, hardly more than a child, and putting her in a position of responsibility she was not ready to assume. The count, when his party has caught up with the fleeing couple, repeats the charge that Erec had taken her from her father. He continues: 'ez möhte an dirre vrouwen / ein tóre wol schouwen / daz si iu niht enist ze mâze' (4188-90). To Erec this stinging rebuke should contain a ring of truth since Enite has just proved again and immediately following a repetition of his command to keep silent under pain of death that her triuwe to him is unconditional and complete by warning him for the fourth time of approaching danger. However, his lingering ambivalence towards her reveals itself during their flight at the end of the episode. The flight is motivated by fear for his wife (4116). Yet almost immediately he repeats his command of silence under pain of death (4130-2).

If the examples of the robbers and the first count as reflecting something that Erec must overcome in himself do not appear completely convincing, the symbolic identity of Erec with Oringles seems unmistakable. Once Oringles has convinced himself of Enite's noble birth and has decided with the approval of his court to marry her, he is impervious to criticism of his haste or to the thought that the intended bride could react to his plans with anything but joy. Any other response would be unrealistic and show ingratitude. Erec, who has shown no great ability to think through and beyond the clichés around him, very probably fell into the very human syndrome of thinking that Enite's criticism, especially after all he has done for her, is ingratitude. The accusations of Oringles against Enite fit perfectly the facts surrounding Erec's winning of Enite and could well be thoughts going through the mind of Erec after the sûft and on the journey:

hiute wider gester
sô stât iuwer dinc doch ungelîch.
ê wâret ir arm, nû sît ir rîch:
vor wâret ir niemen wert,
nû hât iuch got êren gewert:
ê wâret ir vil unerkant,
nû sît ir gewaltic über ein lant:
ê in swacher schouwe,
nû ein rîchiu vrouwe:
vor muostet ir ûz der ahte sîn,
nû sît ir ein mehtic graevîn:
ê vuoret ir wîselôs,
unz iuwer saelde mich erkôs:
vor wâret ir aller genâden bar,
nû habet ir die êre gar:
ê litet ir michel arbeit,
dâ von hât iuch got geleit:
vor hetet ir ein swachez leben,
nû hât iu got den wunsch gegeben:
vor muoste iu vil gewerren,
nû lobet unsern herren
daz er iuchs hât übertragen
und lât iuwer tumbez klagen:
ê lebetet ir âne êre,
der habet ir nû mêre
dan dehein iuwer lantwîp.
(6469-94)

He then strikes her and counters criticism with the remark that he can do what he wishes with her since 'si ist mîn und ich bin ir' (6546). This is hardly the context for such a formulation of what marriage is and shows that Oringles, like Erec, is completely unaware of the mutual aspect of the rights and duties implied in it. Enite endures this ill-treatment, which parallels the hardship Erec has forced her to suffer, willingly and, as always, out of love for Erec.

As in Karnant, it is again Enite, bewailing her fate, who raises the unconscious Erec to action. With every possible doubt about her triuwe removed, the new Erec … slays the last bit of the old Erec. Again we have the pattern of an 'existential' interdependence in which Enite occasions Erec's action which in turn saves them both. That the scene has its primary significance in this symbolism seems very probable when one realizes that on the 'real' level Erec perpetrates brutal murders out of all proportion to the baseness of the victims. Yet the episode is perhaps most memorable for being one of the great comedy scenes in medieval literature. The episode closes with the pair both seated on Erec's horse and Enite giving directions to her disoriented husband. They are closer now than if Enite were riding in proper fashion on her own horse. Erec no longer protests her speaking to determine the direction of their journey. Willingly he listens to her and is thus able to lead them both out of certain danger.

The Oringles episode removes the last traces of doubt Erec has concerning his wife and allows him to conquer those last failings of his own which have undermined their union. By their celebration of love after the brief interruption of the second encounter with Guivreiz they reaffirm that all difficulties have been completely resolved. The noble dwarf's presentation of a horse to Enite during the recuperative stay at Penefrec elevates her to the position she has merited and erases the wrongs she suffered as Erec's groom. The nature and length of the description which Hartmann, far surpassing his source, devotes to this marvellous animal and its trappings serve to raise the heroine to epic stature and to provide her with a fitting mount on which to ride beside her husband to their final triumph in Joie de la curt.

Concerning this final aventiure which confirms the couple in their roles as exemplary heroes we can add only one dimension to the clear and convincing interpretation given by Kuhn. As he has pointed out, we are presented with an allegory in which the correct form of minne, a minne which unites one with one's fellow men, conquers the wrong idea of minne. Because of the insight and experience which their journey represents, Erec, relying on Enite's love, can conquer Mabonagrin and can restore the joy of the court. Despite the fact of allegory Hartmann's portrayal of the episode is more vivid than what has gone before. The charm of the garden and its inhabitants when combined with the ghastly sight of the eighty poles capped with the heads of the defeated knights has an aura of eerie horror that is extremely functional. It is not just a false notion of minne that the hero overcomes. Rather it is exactly that minne which they had practiced in Karnant, here heightened by being shown as it would be if extended to its ultimate conclusions. In the garden minne-dienest means the ruthless destruction of anything which could interfere with the exclusive demands of love. This is just a logical extension or caricature of Erec's neglect of social duties out of love. The woman, who by her possessive love moves Mabonagrin to perform these terrible deeds in defence of that love, is just an extension or caricature of Enite who refuses to criticize Erec lest she 'lose' him. In Joie de la curt the insidious implications of the love in Karnant become manifest with fearful clarity. Not until Joie de la curt are we shown how much was at stake when Erec and Enite set out on the aventiurenweg to confront and conquer the problem of their minne.