Marquise de Maintenon
The Moon and the SunThe Marquise de Maintenon occupies a consequential but carefully bounded place at the French court: she is Louis XIV’s intimate companion, a figure of royal influence whose formal marital status is contested, and a devout presence in scenes where royal and religious authority meet. The novel sets her quiet public appearance against the power attributed to her, while Marie-Josèphe’s memories connect that power to an earlier kindness and a shared beginning in Martinique.
Identity and Background
The Marquise de Maintenon came to France from Martinique with nothing. When Marie-Josèphe arrived from the convent school there, the Marquise treated her kindly and found her a position teaching arithmetic to younger girls at Saint-Cyr Girls' School. At twenty, Marie-Josèphe was too old to enroll as a pupil, but the Marquise made room for her as a teacher. Their shared migration from Martinique gives this act a personal dimension: Marie-Josèphe remembers the Marquise not first as a distant court power but as someone who had also begun in France without resources.
That remembered generosity is set against a hostile account of the Marquise’s title. Madame derides her as an old woman who wants people to believe she was born at Maintenon and therefore has a rightful claim to the title of marquise. The accusation is Madame’s, not an established account of the Marquise’s origin; the novel leaves the insult in the mouth of a rival whose contempt for her is plain. The contrast between her reported beginnings in Martinique and Madame’s taunt makes questions of origin and status part of her court identity.
The King’s Companion and Court Influence
The Marquise’s relationship with Louis XIV is described through competing court beliefs rather than a settled public fact. Many say that she was a great beauty and wit when the King secretly married her; others, including Madame, believe that he made her his mistress instead. The uncertainty matters to her position: whatever the private truth, she appears beside the King in the public rituals of court, while the nature of their bond remains something courtiers speculate about.
Her outward presentation is deliberately restrained. At one royal appearance, she wears a plain black gown and has simply dressed hair, in marked contrast with the spectacle surrounding the King. Marie-Josèphe wonders whether the stories of the Marquise’s former beauty and wit are repeated to win her favor. From Marie-Josèphe’s perspective, however, the Marquise seems to care for no one’s favor except the King’s and God’s. The only courtier she favors is the Duke du Maine, whom she treats as a son. This preference gives her influence a personal center: her attention is not broadly distributed among courtiers but concentrated on the King, religion, and the young man she regards maternally.
Religion and Public Authority
The Marquise’s religious standing is complicated by her past. She, like Madame, used to be a Protestant. Madame’s complaints about the churchmen of Versailles trouble Marie-Josèphe, who believes God understands that Madame intends no blasphemy or heresy; she is less sure that other members of court, particularly the Marquise, will understand. The passage establishes Marie-Josèphe’s apprehension, not any explicit condemnation by the Marquise. Her former Protestantism nevertheless sharpens the tension between the women’s shared past and their different positions in the court’s religious world.
That religious authority becomes visible when Pope Innocent arrives. While the Pope does not offer his ring for Louis XIV to kiss, he extends his hand toward the Marquise. She hurries forward in a black silk skirt and petticoats, kneels gracefully despite her age, and kisses his hand and ring. The narration presents her as a powerful, unofficial queen in a courtly contest of authority. Pope Innocent addresses her as a sister and treats her with deliberate kindness, thereby supporting the faction that believes she and the King are married. The ritual does not resolve the question of her marital status, but it makes her position before the Pope conspicuous.
Encounters and Limits of Her Perspective
The Marquise’s response to the captive sea monster is immediate and aesthetic: she calls the creature horribly ugly. Louis XIV replies by comparing it to a wild boar, refusing to treat its appearance as an objection. The exchange places her judgment within the King’s display of possession and interest, but offers no evidence that she questions the creature’s captivity or the plans made for it. Her reaction is brief; its significance lies in the contrast between her aversion and the King’s dismissive answer.
Across these scenes, the Marquise’s power is never presented as simple command. It rests instead on proximity to Louis XIV, the favors she chooses to grant, and the deference she receives from the Pope. Her plain dress and reserved manner do not diminish that influence; they make its sources less theatrical than the court around her. At the same time, the novel keeps her public identity unsettled: remembered as kind by Marie-Josèphe, mocked by Madame, and treated by Pope Innocent in a way that tacitly endorses the belief that she is the King’s wife.