Reviewed by Magdalena Ball
A Shapeshifter in Love:
Yonec
by Marie de France
The Beauty and the Beast (Parts One and Two)
by Gabrielle-Suzanne de Villeneuve
Translated by Katharine Margot Toohey
Quemar Press
ISBN: 978-1-7642845-0-9, 2025, Paperback, $21.50au
There would be few people who weren’t familiar with The Beauty and the Beast, a much-adapted and popular fairytale. Less familiar is Yonec, a 12th century lai – a long poem based on an ancient Celtic myth first written down by Marie de France. Both of these romantic tales of courtly love and shapeshifting work well together in this new translation by Katharine Margot Toohey. Toohey is something of an expert on Marie de France and has produced a number of English translations of the medieval Anglo-Norman poet, making the work accessible to a modern audience. Though I’m not able to read the original Ango-Norman French of her latest translation of Yonec, there does appear to be a good rhythmic correspondence between the original, presented in text blocks following the English and incorporating the slightly slant rhyme scheme of the original that doesn’t sacrifice the story’s pace or plot. Yonec is the story of a woman “wise in courtesy, strong in beauty” who is given in marriage to an older man in order to bear him children. He locks her in a tower with his elderly sister, where she lives in great sorrow until she a knight (Muldumarec) appears at her window in the shape of a hawk. Muldumarec comes to her each night, impregnating her with the Yonec of the title.
Toohey’s version is rich with characterisation while maintaining a poetic sensibility that matches the grand hyperbole of the romantic narrative:
none as courteous, valiant nor beautiful,
none so generous, none so graceful. (32)
The heightened quality of language is continued in The Beauty and the Beast, which is separated into two parts and translated from Gabrielle-Suzanne de Villeneuve’s 18th-century French work, La Belle et la Bête. This is one of the oldest fairytales and Toohey does a beautiful job of capturing the 1740 version with its rich and sumptuous gardens, the endless castle amusements from opera to talking monkeys, its fast-paced plot, and the much more complex development of The Beauty’s character than the more passive Disney version we’ve all come to know. In this translation The Beauty has more agency than she realises, as evidenced by her willingness to give up what she loves for the sake of her beloved’s wellbeing – the underlying morality that drives the tale:
When I accepted his faith, I believed I was sparing something lower than this man. I only committed myself to it with the plan of doing it a remarkable favour. Ambition did not have any part in my intentions. So, Fairy, I implore you not to demand anything from the Queen on an occasion where I cannot blame her delicacy.(134)
The story progresses quickly and even though we are well-aware of the outcome – the happily-ever-after ending is no spoiler here – the emphasis on Beauty’s own agency makes for a richer tale and one where the morality of beauty and love being more than ‘skin deep’ has deep resonance.
The book is peppered with illustrations by the poet Jennifer Maiden. These match the era and style of the work’s timeframe and employ Maiden’s distinctive method of combining photographs and artwork into collage. It is wonderful to be able to have access to these texts, both in their original languages and translated with such care.