Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Source: L'Esprit Créateur , Vol. 53, No. 4, The Turk of Early Modern France (Winter
2013), pp. 1-8
Published by: The Johns Hopkins University Press
REFERENCES
Linked references are available on JSTOR for this article:
https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.2307/26378861?seq=1&cid=pdf-
reference#references_tab_contents
You may need to log in to JSTOR to access the linked references.
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms
The Johns Hopkins University Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and
extend access to L'Esprit Créateur
T
HE CRITICAL FOCUS OF THIS ISSUE is the rich and complex his-
tory of the most pervasive oriental figure in French art and letters
from the sixteenth to the early eighteenth century: the Turk. The pro-
lific use of the Turk in early modern texts, often just evoked in this anony-
mous form in the singular, is a clear indication that we are confronted with a
highly imaginary figure, serving multiple, and at times competing, ideological
and aesthetic purposes.1 The Turk as he is understood here does not corre-
spond to any one historical reality. As the eleven case studies brought together
in this issue amply demonstrate, the vitality and longevity of the Turk in early
modern French writing and the arts are due as much to his imaginary mal-
leability as to the geo-political context in which he was created, the frequent
confrontations between European powers and the Ottoman Empire since the
fall of Constantinople in 1453. This versatility, in turn, is at the heart of what
could be called the paradox of the Turk of early modern France: as a projec-
tion, he is at once many and one, polysemous and yet identifiable. What ren-
ders the imaginary Turk so productive during this period is that he is no longer
just the Infidel—even though the rhetoric of the crusades remains quite viru-
lent well into the seventeenth century2—and not yet the object of the sort of
Orientalism that Edward Said has so astutely analyzed for the age of high
colonialism beginning at the end of the eighteenth century.3
The polysemy of the word Turc alone is a sure sign of the extent to which
ideas about the Ottomans, Islam, the Middle East, and North Africa are in flux
during the early modern period: Turc can simply designate any Muslim,
regardless of his origin. A member of the ruling elites in one of the Barbary
states could be called Turc, as could a subject of the Ottoman Sultan in the
Balkans. Likewise, Jews and Armenians living in the Ottoman Empire were
also often thought of as Turcs.4 This is one sense in which the Turc of early
modern France is more than one, and to those mostly interested in the histor-
ical referent of the name this semantic chaos might seem discouraging enough
to dismiss the notion of the early modern Turk altogether.
If we concentrate on the symbolic meaning of this figure, however, the
Turk begins to gain clearer contours and becomes an identifiable, and one
might add reliable, companion in early modern French writing and visual arts.
This is not to say that he becomes one-dimensional. The opposite is the case,
for as the following essays show—exploring a wide range of sources spanning
two centuries, from novellas and plays to pamphlets and ceiling paintings—
the Turk both maintains certain characteristics while undergoing some signif-
icant changes from the sixteenth to the seventeenth century. As we will see,
the reasons for the proliferation and transformation of this oriental figure are
rooted foremost in the dynamic of France’s relationship with the Ottoman
Empire during this period which, compared with that of other European
powers, was unique on several accounts.
In order to comprehend the Turk of early modern France as an aggregate
imaginary figure, then, we need to think of him as both stable and flexible,
predictable and unique, familiar and strange. This is another sense in which
he is both one and many. One reason for the stability of the Turk as the main
oriental figure occupying the French imagination is the dominance of the
Ottoman Empire in the Mediterranean and southeast Europe during the cen-
tury and a half that separates the first Ottoman siege of Vienna (1529) from
the second (1683). With one exception, the numerous sources critically
investigated here fall into this period. By the time Suleiman the Magnificent
ascended to power in 1520, Europeans had understood that the empire in the
East was a force to reckon with, even though very little was known about
it.5 Throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth century, therefore, the Turk
was the object of persistent curiosity on the part of the French reading
public. Numerous scholars, diplomats, merchants, and artists would report
about the Ottoman Empire in text and image, among them Pierre Belon
(1517-64) and Guillaume-Joseph Grelot (ca. 1630-80), discussed in this
volume. Despite this genuine curiosity and a steadily growing stream of
information about the Ottoman Empire, some basic characteristics of this
imaginary figure remain the same over two centuries, a fact that adds to the
aforementioned paradox of France’s early modern Turk. As several contri-
butions highlight, ruthless violence and unbridled lust are the two traits with
which the Turk will consistently be associated, which threatens to turn him
into an uninspiring stock character. Such an outcome occurs, for example,
in the crude evocations of the Turk in the propaganda produced on both
sides during the Wars of Religion.6 To dismiss the Turk as a clichéd and pre-
dictable oriental figure without much interest, however, would ignore other
characteristics that add to his intriguing historical complexity, characteris-
tics that in fact make him one of the most fascinating figures populating the
early modern French imagination.
The imaginary Turk’s dynamic side is intimately related to the develop-
ment of Franco-Ottoman relations. Early on, these relations were unique
within Europe because Francis I, after having been taken captive at the battle
2 WINTER 2013
of Pavia in 1525 by Charles V, was the first and only Western sovereign who
forged a strategic alliance with Suleiman the Magnificent. They shared an
interest in containing the power of the Habsburg Empire in Europe and the
Mediterranean, as would their successors in the seventeenth century.7 In 1535,
a French embassy was installed at the Porte and quickly became not only the
most important representation of any Western power in Istanbul but also
“Europe’s window on the Islamic world.”8 While facilitating political negoti-
ations and commercial exchange, the embassy also actively promoted explor-
ing, and producing knowledge about, the empire. The French reading public
was soon able to consume treatises and travelogues such as Pierre Belon’s
Observations de plusieurs singularitez et choses memorables trouvées en
Grece, Asie, Judée, Egypte, Arabie (1553), André Thevet’s Cosmographie de
Levant (1554), and Guillaume Postel’s De la Republique des Turcs (1560).9
These and numerous other works were commonly printed in several editions
and were soon translated into other European vernaculars, which nurtured
French collective knowledge but also imagination about the Ottoman sultan
and his empire.10
With only a few interruptions the French kingdom would stay on friendly
terms with the Ottoman Empire throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth cen-
tury. France did not participate in the battle of Lepanto (1571), the first major
defeat of the Ottoman navy in modern history, nor in the battle against the
sultan’s army that ended the second siege of Vienna and foreshadowed the
empire’s dwindling influence in Europe in the eighteenth century. Contrary to
most other Western powers, France also never had any direct military con-
frontations with the Ottomans during the Renaissance. The French imagina-
tion during the sixteenth century, however, shared in a deeply rooted pan-
European fear of the Turk.11 This fear was fanned by the battle of Mohács
(1526), which led to the Ottoman domination of Hungary, and the first siege
of Vienna three years later.
These historical developments explain why, from the middle of the six-
teenth century on, curiosity about and serious engagement with the Ottoman
Empire, to which Belon’s Observations are a testimony, as Pascale Barthe
shows, existed side-by-side with popular and epic celebrations of the defeat
of the Turk at Lepanto, the focus of Phillip J. Usher’s essay. This essay
demonstrates how, even in the aftermath of victory, these celebrations indi-
rectly reveal the persistent fear about the Ottoman encroachment onto the con-
tinent. How far the ambivalence toward the Turk reaches in the sixteenth cen-
tury becomes clear if we compare the anonymous Ottoman in Marguerite de
Navarre’s Heptaméron (1558) with the personnel of the oriental tales in
4 WINTER 2013
6 WINTER 2013
Notes
1. See Clarence D. Rouillard’s substantial inventory of the Turk’s presence in French writing
in the sixteenth and seventeenth century, The Turk in French History, Thought, and Litera-
ture (1520-1660) (Paris: Boivin, 1941). Le Turc is clearly marked as masculine, and even
when authors evoke les Turcs, they almost always refer to men. To account for this aspect,
I will refer to this figure exclusively as “he.”
2. See Michael J. Heath, Crusading Commonplaces: La Noue, Lucinge and Rhetoric against
the Turks (Geneva: Droz, 1986); and Géraud Poumarède, Pour en finir avec la croisade:
mythes et réalités de la lutte contre les Turcs aux XVI e et XVII e siècle (Paris: PUF, 2004).
3. Edward Said, Orientalism (New York: Pantheon, 1978).
4. See Lucette Valensi, Ces étrangers familiers: musulmans en Europe (XVI e-XVIII e siècles)
(Paris: Payot, 2012), 12. Valensi observes that, with regard to their semantic fluidity, the
Moor in early modern English is comparable to le Turc.
5. The first comprehensive book in any language dealing with Turkish customs, government,
and religion, Teodoro Spandugino’s Genealogie du grant Turc a present regnant, was pub-
lished in Paris in 1519 (Rouillard 8). In its aftermath, French humanists became obsessed
with the origin of the Turks, a people not mentioned in any classical source. See Frank
Lestringant, “Guillaume Postel et l’obsession turque,” Écrire le monde à la Renaissance:
quinze études sur Rabelais, Postel, Bodin et la littérature géographique (Caen: Paradigme,
1993), 189-224. Italian sources also added early on to the general knowledge about the
Ottoman Empire in Europe, and interest in the Turk was of course a phenomenon across the
continent. For the purpose of this essay, however, I will limit my focus on Franco-Ottoman
relations without considering their European context.
6. See Rouillard, 407-18.
7. The Renaissance Franco-Ottoman alliance has received much critical attention lately. See
Edith Garnier, L’Alliance impie: François I er et Soliman le Magnifique contre Charles
Quint (1529-1547) (Paris: Félin, 2008); and Christine Isom-Verhaaren, Allies with the Infi-
del: The Ottoman and French Alliance in the Sixteenth Century (London: Tauris, 2011).
8. Philip Mansel, “The French Renaissance in Search of the Ottoman Empire,” in Re-Orient-
ing the Renaissance: Cultural Exchanges with the East, Gerald MacLean, ed. (New York:
Palgrave, 2005), 96.
9. The three authors belonged to the embassy of Gabriel d’Aramon (1547-54). One of the main
purposes of this mission was to generate knowledge about Ottoman government and soci-
ety. See Frédéric Tinguely, L’Écriture du Levant à la Renaissance: enquête sur les
voyageurs français dans l’Empire de Soliman le Magnifique (Geneva: Droz, 2000).
10. Among the avid readers of these texts was Montaigne. While the first edition of the Essais
in 1580 contained only three references to the Turk, he was evoked more than thirty times
in the posthumous 1595 edition. See Jean Balsamo, “L’Histoire des Turcs à l’épreuve des
Essais,” in Histoire et littérature au siècle de Montaigne: mélanges offerts à Claude-Gilbert
Dubois, Françoise Argod-Dutard, ed. (Geneva: Droz, 2001), 221-36.
11. See Jean Delumeau, La Peur en Occident (XVI e-XVIII e siècles) (Paris: Fayard, 1978), 262-
72; Almut Höfert, Den Feind beschreiben: “Türkengefahr” und europäisches Wissen über
das Osmanische Reich 1450-1600 (Frankfurt am Main: Campus, 2003); and Nancy Bisaha,
Creating East and West: Renaissance Humanists and the Ottoman Turks (Philadelphia: U
of Pennsylvania P, 2004).
12. See Ina B. McCabe, Orientalism in Early Modern France: Eurasian Trade, Exoticism, and
the Ancien Régime (Oxford: Berg, 2008); Nicholas Dew, Orientalism in Louis XIV’s France
(Oxford: Oxford U P, 2009); and Lucien Bély, ed., Turcs et turqueries, XVI e-XVII e siècles
(Paris: Presses de l’Université de Paris-Sorbonne, 2009).
13. See also Fatma Müge Göçek, East Encounters West: France and the Ottoman Empire in the
Eighteenth Century (New York: Oxford U P, 1987).
14. I am quoting from the 1994 edition of Orientalism (New York: Vintage). For critical takes
on Orientalism by scholars of early modernity, see Nancy Bisaha, Creating East and West;
Michèle Longino, Orientalism in French Classical Drama (Cambridge: Cambridge U P,
2002); or Margaret Meserve, Empires of Islam in Renaissance Historical Thought (Cam-
bridge: Harvard U P, 2008).
8 WINTER 2013