Gardens of Transformation: Marivaux and Emmanuelle Bayamack-Tam

Masquerade and Desire: Three Texts on the Triumph of Love

What happens when a young woman decides to infiltrate a closed world – not with weapons, but with cunning, desire, and transformation? This basic premise connects three texts that, at first glance, appear very different: Pierre de Marivaux's comedy The Triumph of Love (1732) ¹ Emmanuelle Bayamack-Tam's queer theatre adaptation of Marivaux, À l'abordage (Éditions POL, 2021), and her previous novel Arcadius (Éditions POL, 2018). Between courtly intrigue, subversive play and psychological self-discovery, a dramaturgy of intrusion unfolds in all three works: into a garden, a house, an order – or into a self.

The social relevance and contemporary adaptations of Marivaux's timeless psychological analysis of human emotions, which is essentially set in a conventional ancient world, are explored in Bayamack-Tam's À l'abordage! reinterpreted, “résolument dans notre présent le plus contemporain”, it deals with “problématiques très actuelles”. This is evident in the language, the allusions to “no-sex” movements, “mariage pour tous” and “marche des fiertés”. The novel Arcadius Finally, it is more concretely rooted in the present by addressing the anxieties of modern society: electrosensitivity, climate change, digital surveillance, perfumes, glyphosate. Liberty House is a "zone blanche," a deliberate retreat from this world perceived as threatening. The refugee crisis also plays a crucial role, testing the idealistic principles of the community and exposing its hypocrisy.

Marivaux's rebellion is that of the individual heart against societal constraints. À l'abordage! She stages a collective rebellion of sexual freedom. Farah in Arcadius She undergoes a personal rebellion against the isolation of her community and its narrow-minded views. Her path leads her from the supposed safety of paradise into the "world" to find a new form of activism that is aware of the flaws of the old utopia and aims to form a "brigade volante" for an open, fluid, and more just future.

What shifts here is not only language and form, but also literary anthropology: Who acts, who desires, who transforms? While Marivaux still plays with the motif of the masquerade—a reversible deception to restore political order—Bayamack-Tam places queer desire itself at the center: as a productive disruption, as a performative force, and simultaneously as a political demand. Especially in the novel Arcadius The transformation transcends any role – it becomes an existential process.

The three texts offer an exemplary glimpse into the transformation of gender images, body politics, and the semantics of love in French literature from the Enlightenment to the present day. This raises central questions that guide this comparative study: How does the motif of masquerade shift in the transition from Marivaux to Bayamack-Tam—from strategic disguise to the embodiment of fluid desire? Which orders are subverted in each case, and what takes their place: a new community, a couple, a radicalized individualism? Is desire in these texts subversive, utopian, destructive—or something else entirely? In what way are the characters mirrors of their time—and how do they break free from these reflections? And finally: Can it be determined whether The Triumph of Love Can it still be read today as a harmless comedy – or does its queer reinterpretation and rewriting by Bayamack-Tam open up new readings of its original subtext?

Marivaux depicts the triumph of love over the strict, love-hostile philosophy of Hermocrate. Marivaux's play culminates in the classic wedding of the lovers, which restores social order. Bayamack-Tam takes up this pattern in À l'abordage! Sasha confronts Kinbote's abstinence doctrine. At the same time, however, she presents... Arcadius A community based on free love, only to expose its internal hypocrisies and failures. This establishes a critical dialogue about the limits of any utopian dogma, whether it is anti-love or glorifies love. À l'abordage! Marivaux's wedding is expanded into a radical celebration of "mariage pour tous" and queer love that shatters all norms. The climax is a "mariage pour tous, festif et veérique, encourage le désir transgénérationnel, et se conclut sur une marche des fiertés joissive et spectaculaire." This radical expansion of the concept of love and the celebration of queer identities breaks the traditional boundaries of comedy. It is a call for universal acceptance and freedom of desire. Arcadius The outcome is far more tragic and disillusioning. The utopia fails due to its own contradictions. The community, dedicated to protection and love, proves intolerant of migrants and ultimately falls victim to collective suicide. The protagonist, Farah, survives and forges plans for a new, more open, and nomadic community. The message is more nuanced: utopias are fragile, and true compassion requires more than just idealistic principles. Love alone cannot triumph unless it is universal and unconditional. Arcadius This culminates in the tragic collective suicide of the community and Farah's painful realization of its failure. This leads to a deeper reflection on the fragility of utopias and the need to conceive of a new form of community that is more inclusive and adaptable.

Pierre de Marivaux, The Triumph of Love

Pierre de Marivaux' comedy The Triumph of Love (1732) is a classic example of the 18th-century French comedy tradition, in which love, masquerade, and social order are intricately interwoven. The play combines social satire with psychological nuance and is also a shrewd exploration of gender roles and power dynamics.

The story revolves around Princess Léonide, who learns that a young man named Agis, the rightful heir to the throne, is being kept hidden by the philosopher Hermocrate to shield him from the world and the monarchy. Hermocrate, a staunch opponent of the monarchy, wants to educate Agis in the ideals of reason and virtue, far removed from all passion—especially love. Léonide, both curious and fascinated, decides to meet Agis and win him over. To gain access to Hermocrate's secluded house, she disguises herself as a young man named Phocion. Her maid, Corine, accompanies her, dressed as a man.

Through a series of lies and seductions, Léonide manages to gain the trust of Hermocrate's sister, Léontine, as well as that of Hermocrate himself—both fall in love with the supposed male figure. The comedy culminates in a web of mutual deception, in which Léonide not only repeatedly masks her own identity but also manipulates the feelings of others to achieve her goal. Finally, she reveals her true identity and wins Agis's love—who, through this turn of events, is also politically "reclaimed." Love triumphs: Léonide wins Agis, and with him, the future throne.

The Triumph of Love It is a virtuoso piece of disguise that at first glance appears to be a harmless comedy, but in reality is a profound exploration of the themes of power, gender, emotion, and manipulation. The character of Léonide is at its center: she is a radically active heroine who breaks all the rules of female passivity and virtue. She lies, seduces, and deliberately misleads others—not out of malice, but in the name of love.

Marivaux subtly deconstructs the gender roles of his time with irony: Léonide appears as a "Phocion," assuming male agency, while the men—Hermocrate, Agis, even the learned Léontine—are either passive, deceived, or emotionally overwhelmed. At the same time, the play poses the question of whether love is a legitimate means of exercising power. Léonide's triumph is ambivalent: it demonstrates the power of emotion over reason, but also the danger of "instrumental love," which merely uses others.

The language of Marivaux – the famous Marivaudage – is characterized by psychological subtlety, rhetorical elegance, and constant shifting of roles. Dialogues become dance-like duels in which truth and deception are barely distinguishable. This is precisely where the play's appeal lies: love appears not as a natural force, but as a rhetorical, social, and performative practice.

Overall is The Triumph of Love A comedic chamber piece that surprises with its modernity: It addresses gender as a role, love as a social strategy, and power as a game with identities – themes that are present in contemporary queer interpretations (such as in À l'abordage) gain new relevance.

À l'abordage by Bayamack-Tam

À l'abordage, a free theatrical adaptation of Marivaux' The Triumph of LoveThe film transposes the structure of classical comedy, with its masks and disguises, to a contemporary, queer community. At its center is Sasha, a young woman full of energy and sexual self-confidence, who falls in love with Ayden – a handsome yet aloof boy living in a secluded, ascetic community. This community is led by the authoritarian Kinbote and his sister Théodora, who have banished all love, sexuality, and outside influences from their "pure" world.

Sasha decides to infiltrate this hermetically sealed community to "awaken" Ayden and bring the world of love and sensuality into the heart of seclusion. Together with her friend Carlie, she devises a plan: disguised as boys, they pose as wandering students searching for meaning, in order to attend Kinbote's spiritual seminar. Sasha is driven by a mixture of enlightenment, erotic desire, and revolutionary fervor: she wants to shatter the order of abstinence with the weapons of love – "À l'abordage!" she cries, the battle cry of a pirate of lust.

The comedy thrives on disguise, pretense, and rhetorical wit—very much in the tradition of Marivaux. At the same time, Bayamack-Tam's play is a clever exploration of gender roles, sexual identity, and the political dimension of desire. Sasha and Carlie are neither clearly female nor male, but embody a fluid, queer subjectivity that consciously defies binary norms. Within the community, they encounter a fragile order in which spirituality functions as a defense mechanism against desire—a refuge from the demands of the world, which, however, degenerates into bigotry and control.

The language is witty, fast-paced, often bawdy, then again poetically charged. The text humorously questions the logic of ascetic escapism and contrasts it with a lifestyle that understands pleasure, passion, and affective intimacy as sources of truth and knowledge. Sasha thus becomes the embodiment of a queer ethic of desire that rebels against all "order" and, through subversive dissimulation, establishes a new, more authentic order—in the sense of self-realization.

Arcadius by Bayamack-Tam

In Arcadius Emmanuelle Bayamack-Tam tells the story of young Farah, who lives with her parents in a secluded, self-proclaimed utopian commune called Liberty House. This community on the French-Italian border sees itself as a refuge for people who want to escape modern life with its technological, social, and normative demands. The commune is led by the charismatic and ambivalent Arcady, a kind of guru who exudes both protection and power. Farah grows up in this environment, initially in a state of childlike admiration and devoted devotion to Arcady, but later becoming increasingly critical and self-reflective.

The story unfolds through Farah's first-person narration, which, in a poetic and often ironically tinged tone, recounts her childhood and adolescence. Farah describes herself as unattractive and excluded from social life. In Liberty House, however, she finds a space where she believes she is accepted. She idolizes Arcady, who is a father figure, a healer, and possibly a future lover. Between childlike infatuation, erotic tension, and a power imbalance, a relationship develops that repeatedly teeters on the brink of incest and abuse.

The apparent utopia of Liberty House begins to crumble, however, as Farah develops and realizes how selective and repressive the community's values ​​actually are. Despite the proclaimed tolerance and libertinism, implicit norms, exclusion, and an authoritarian leadership structure prevail. This becomes particularly evident in the way sexuality, gender identity, and migration are addressed: While Liberty House accepts queer identities on the one hand, it remains dismissive or contradictory in other areas—such as the acceptance of refugees.

Farah's search for identity is central to the novel. Over the course of the story, she undergoes a physical, sexual, and political emancipation. Her transition to becoming a transgender person is not a linear process, but rather reflects the complex conditions under which self-realization occurs within the tension between norms, desires, power, and self-determination. Farah increasingly rejects Arcady's paternalistic control and begins to stand up for her own truth—whether in her relationship with her body or in her political activism on behalf of migrants.

Bayamack-Tam designs in Arcadius Not a classic utopia, but a subtle dystopia lurking behind the promise of freedom and love. The supposed idyll is riddled with abuse of power, social exclusion, and paternalistic control. The novel radically poses the question of whether a society that preaches individual development truly enables it—or whether it instead breeds new forms of normalization and oppression.

Told with great linguistic intensity, irony and a clear-sighted psychological insight Arcadius Not only a personal coming-of-age story, but also a reflection on the political and ideological fault lines of the present: gender, the body, desire, migration, and the tension between freedom and order. Farah's path is an emancipatory act of self-assertion against a community that presents itself as an idyllic paradise but is in reality a walled garden.

comparison of À l'abordage and Arcadius

Both À l'abordage as well as most Arcadius They tell of closed communities that turn away from the world to lead a supposedly pure life – be it for spiritual, ecological, or therapeutic reasons. Both works expose the authoritarian tendencies of such utopias and contrast them with youthful rebellion and an affirmative, often queer, desire. Sasha in À l'abordage and Farah in Arcadius They are figures of transformation: They subvert authoritarian structures, question rigid gender orders, and demand a right to love, body, and identity. While Arcadius However, in a more introspective and melancholic way, he depicts the ambivalent mechanisms of power, love, and self-realization. À l'abordage The form of the comedic offensive: Here, desire is celebrated not only as a problem, but also as a solution. Both works thus establish, in their own way, a queer poetics of liberation against the constraints of purity.

Despite their different genres – novel and play – they show Arcadius and À l'abordage striking structural parallels in the constellation of characters, which revolves around a closed community and its subversive infiltration by a queer main character.

Farah (Arcadius) and Sasha (À l'abordageBoth are young, queer protagonists who assert themselves as outsiders in a repressive system. Farah initially idolizes the charismatic leader Arcady but later begins to question his authority. Sasha, on the other hand, comes from the outside and is a fighter against Kinbote's ascetic rule from the very beginning. Both embody a sensual, resistant force that destabilizes the system from within.

Arcade (Arcadius) and Kinbote (À l'abordageBoth are authoritarian leaders with spiritual or moral aspirations. Arcady appears paternal and seductive, Kinbote dogmatic and aloof – yet both possess a repressive streak: they regulate the desires of others and claim control over bodies and morals. Kinbote is a dark, ascetic variant of the narcissistic-liberal Arcady.

Victor (Arcadius) and Théodora (À l'abordageBoth are the "right hands" of the authority figures – Victor as Arcady's partner, Théodora as Kinbote's sister. They stabilize the existing order, appearing cold, distant, and genderless. Both embody an ascetic ideal of suppressing desire.

Carlie (À l'abordage) and Kirsten (ArcadiusCarlie is Sasha's more cynical, more level-headed companion – like Kirsten in Arcadius One character has a sharp eye for the situation. Both are ironically flawed accomplices who oscillate between support and distance.

Ayden (À l'abordage) and Farah (as an object) / Victor (as a mirror) (Arcadius): Ayden does not directly correspond to a person in Arcadius, but functions similarly to Farah as a projection surface for desire – only in reverse: In À l'abordage Ayden is "awakened" by Sasha, while in Arcadius Farah herself is the one who desires. Ayden, like Victor, represents a passive masculinity that has been disempowered under the influence of repressive systems.

In both texts, a closed, utopically constructed community is challenged from within or without – through desire, through the play with gender, through lust and love. The constellations are variations of the same conflict: order versus desire, control versus transformation.

All three works – Marivaux' The Triumph of Love, Bayamack-Tam's novel Arcadius and their theatrical adaptation of Marivaux À l'abordage They share a basic structural constellation: A young, determined protagonist penetrates a secluded world to assert love (or desire) against an ascetic, controlling order. Within this recognizable basic form, significant deviations emerge that illuminating Bayamack-Tam's relationship with Marivaux.

Other specifications	The Triumph of Love	À l'abordage	Arcadius
Disguised infiltrator, driven by love	Leonide (→ Phocion)	Sasha (in men's clothing)	Farah (not in disguise, but transforming)
Reclusive young man, object of desire	Agis	Ayden	(Inversion) Farah herself is both object and subject
Rationalist, controlling authority figure	Hermocrate	Kinbote	Arcady
Dangerous old maid / controlled sister figure	Leontine	Theodora	Victor (as a desexualized, authoritarian partner)
Servant/accomplice at a distance from the main character	Corine	Carlie	Kirsten

Bayamack-Tam's piece À l'abordage It is a direct, queer, and politicized homage to Marivaux's comedy—not its disposal. The roles are not destroyed, but transformed: Sasha, like Léonide, is clever, energetic, and willing to lie and seduce, but she is also sexually explicit, self-ironic, and more queer, not confined to a heterosexual constellation. The classic motif of the masquerade is updated: gender disguise is not merely a means to an end, but an expression of a more fluid, post-binary identity. Ayden, in turn, is not an idealized heir apparent, but an insecure young man, desexualized by his environment—a kind of queer dryad. Kinbote is a caricature of a late-bourgeois Hermocrate: less philosophical, more sectarian, his worldview repressive rather than enlightening.

In Arcadius The structure becomes more complex and is broken down: Farah is simultaneously heroine and object of desire, narrator and subject of a profound transformation. There is no longer any masquerade – Farah herself is "transformation." Arcady, in turn, appears more ambivalent than Kinbote or Hermocrate: not just a dogmatist, but a narcissistic, charismatic father figure with subtle abusive tendencies. The violence of the system is more intimate, more emotional – and more difficult to grasp.

Rationalism and matters of the heart

Marivaux, a representative of the French Enlightenment (1715-1750), concretizes, problematizes, and resolves the opposition between heart and reason in various ways in his plays and literary texts. Marivaux adopts a nuanced position on the contrast between heart and reason, one that differs significantly from the rationalist tradition. In contrast to Descartes' rationalism, Marivaux emphasizes the priority of inner experience over abstract principles; even religious truth is a matter of the heart, not rational deduction. Marivaux posits that every human being has feelings; therefore, they also hold the key to all minds: only they can penetrate and illuminate them.

In Le Jeu de l'amour et du hasard (1730) The conflict between heart and reason is dramatized through the strategy of disguise. Silvia and Dorante are "tiraillés entre cœur et raison" (torn between heart and reason) due to their feelings for people they consider to be of lower social standing. The conflict manifests itself in internal contradictions (the protagonists struggle against feelings that contradict their social reason), in linguistic confusion (the heart speaks before the mind understands), and in social barriers (apparent class differences create rational obstacles to emotional truth).

Even in social comedy L'Île des esclaves (1725) The contrast is problematized through the role reversal. Marivaux shows how rational social order and human emotions come into conflict: Trivelin represents an enlightened reason that should lead to humanization, the "morale du cœur" is presented as the solution to social injustice, and ultimately the conflict is resolved more through emotional insight than through rational argumentation.

In The False Confidences (1737) The contrast is made concrete through the manipulation of language. The double use of language reveals Dubois as a manipulator who uses rational strategies for emotional ends. Araminte must choose between social reason and her heart's desires. The conflict "between heart and reason" is internalized.

The experimental piece La Dispute (1744) presents the conflict in a quasi-scientific setting. The young people, raised in isolation, experience their first encounter with love and jealousy without social conditioning. Here, Marivaux elaborates on the contrast between natural emotional impulses and initial rational considerations, the role of narcissism and amour-propre as mediating agents, and ultimately, the inevitability of emotional reactions despite rational considerations.

Marivaux identifies self-love (“amour-propre”) as a central problem. It becomes an ambivalent force that both enables and hinders love: positively, as the basis for self-knowledge and authentic feelings; negatively, as a source of vanity, manipulation, and emotional blindness. Philosophically, self-love forms the foundation of subjectivity in Enlightenment thought. In his Approval Requests Marivaux develops a critique of abstract rationality.

Marivaux explores how societal reason reshapes authentic feelings. His protagonists must overcome social prejudices, emotionally break down class barriers, and assert authenticity in the face of societal expectations. Marivaux doesn't develop a simple hierarchy, but rather a dynamic synthesis. "Sentiment" becomes "reasonable sentiment," emotional intelligence, so that feelings are refined through experience, reflexive sensitivity, in which the heart learns to understand itself, and finally, practical wisdom, where reason serves to refine, not suppress, feelings. This is also evident in his novels (La Vie de Marianne, Le Paysan parvenuMarivaux demonstrates such an evolutionary development: Marianne learns to analyze and articulate her feelings, while Jacob develops empirical wisdom through bodily experience. Both protagonists achieve an integration of heart and mind.

Marivaux sees language as the medium of synthesis. Marivaudage is a technique for making the unconscious conscious, fausses confidences are a method for revealing true feelings, and dialogue is a process of emotional self-knowledge. Marivaux's technique of double énonciation makes the conflict visible as conscious and unconscious communication simultaneously, so that the audience recognizes the conflict before the protagonists do. From the discrepancy between what is said and what is meant arises insight, comedy, and irony. The "surprise of love" serves as a dramaturgical device for problematizing the contrast: unexpected feelings disrupt rational plans, self-knowledge is achieved through emotional shocks, and irony arises from the discrepancy between intention and feeling. Marivaux uses quasi-scientific settings in L'Île des esclaves a social experiment, in La Dispute a state-of-nature experiment and in Le Jeu de l'amour et du hasard an identity experiment.

Marivaux resolves the conflict between heart and reason not through a simple hierarchy, but through a complex synthesis that combines empiricist epistemology, Enlightenment critique of reason, and Christian moral philosophy. His position can be characterized as "empiricism of the heart": reason is not negated, but feeling is granted epistemological priority because it enables more authentic self-knowledge and understanding of the world. This synthesis makes Marivaux an important representative of the early Enlightenment, which does not yet exhibit the radical faith in reason of the later Enlightenment, but rather seeks a humanistic balance between different forms of knowledge. His dramaturgical innovations and psychological insights have significantly influenced the development of modern psychological theater.

Hermocrate, raison et cœur

Hermocrate is embodied in Marivaux' Triumph of Love The type of Enlightenment philosopher who places reason above all emotions. He lives in seclusion with his sister Léontine and the young Agis in a kind of philosophical enclave entirely devoted to science and wisdom. Hermocrate systematically educated the young Agis to "hate the usurper and murderer Leonidas, her descendants, and all women." This education in misogyny preaches the "dangers represented by the opposite sex" and sought to protect both himself and his charges from the "irrationality of love."

Marivaux uses Hermocrate as the embodiment of an extreme rationalist position typical of certain Enlightenment currents. The philosopher represents that school of thought which views emotions as disruptive to pure reason. His library becomes a metaphor for an ordered but lifeless world of abstraction. The play reveals Marivaux's critical stance toward a philosophy that denies the human element in favor of the purely rational. Hermocrate's defeat at the hands of Léonide's seductive charms demonstrates that even the most rational person is not immune to human passions. The scene in which "the books fall to the ground" symbolizes the collapse of his rational order under the onslaught of emotions.

Through Hermocrates' character, Marivaux exposes the hypocrisy of a philosophy that claims to be above human weaknesses. The philosopher, who for years preached against love, himself succumbs within a short time to the charms of "aspasies" (Léonide's feminine identity). This transformation from a "misanthropic and misogynistic" thinker to a "future bridegroom" reveals the fundamental contradiction between theory and practice.

The play ultimately demonstrates the triumph of human nature over artificial constructs. Hermocrate's capitulation to love demonstrates that even the most elaborate philosophical systems fail when they ignore fundamental human needs. His defeat is both comic and exemplary—it exposes the limitations of a purely rationalistic worldview. Marivaux aims to show that true humanity requires the integration of reason and emotion. The play does not advocate for the abolition of reason, but rather for its reconciliation with human passions. Hermocrate's transformation from a rigid philosopher to a man in love symbolizes this necessary balance between reason and heart.

Marivaux thus uses the figure of Hermocrate as a vehicle for a fundamental critique of one-sided worldviews and as a demonstration of the irresistible power of human authenticity against artificial dogmas – a profoundly enlightening, but also profoundly human message.

Rejection of the denial of love

Here, Kinbote formulates an explicit and detailed critique of love that goes far beyond Hermocrate's restraint. He sees love as "extremement nocif" and even cites "petits crimes ordinaires" such as lying and obsession with beauty as proof. This passage shows how Bayamack-Tam deepens and rationalizes the antagonists' philosophical position to create a stronger resistance to triumphant love, thus increasing the play's conflict potential and making it more relevant by placing a conscious anti-love stance at its center, which is unusual in our romanticized society.

The characters Kinbote in On board! and Arcady in Arcadius They can be seen as modern variants of the Hermocrate from Marivaux' Triumph of Love Read about it. In both cases, the focus is on charismatic, patriarchal leaders who guide isolated communities where emotions are suppressed, love is regulated, or even forbidden. Like Hermocrate, they represent a worldview based on distance from the world, on rationality, control, and purity—and which, precisely for that reason, fails in the face of reality.

The reinterpretations by Emmanuelle Bayamack-Tam, in particular À l'abordage! and the novel ArcadiusThey take Marivaux's basic framework and fill it with radically new meanings and contemporary sensibilities. The philosophical core of community in Marivaux's The Triumph of Love This concerns the philosopher Hermocrate, who built his community around the rejection of love and gender mixing. His principles are strict and aimed at avoiding emotional "confusion." In Bayamack-Tams À l'abordage! Here, Marivaux's premise is retained and even accentuated. Kinbote leads a "community of abstinence" that resists desire and considers love "extremely nocif" (extremely harmful). The protagonist, Sasha, sets out to dismantle ("pulvériser") this ideology. This adaptation is a direct but radicalized reversal of Marivaux's original, in which love is meant to overcome rigid reason. In stark contrast, Liberty House in Bayamack-Tam's Arcadius A community founded on the principle of "amour libre et du désir sans entraves" (free love and unbridled desire). Arcady, the charismatic leader, preaches "jouissance sans entraves ni conditions" (enjoyment without inhibitions or conditions). He believes that love conquers all ("l'amour triomphe de tout") and saves the members from their psychological and social problems. This is a "figure inversée" to Marivaux's and Kinbote's anti-love position and creates a more complex space for examining the limits of such a utopia.

Kinbote as a parodied Hermocrate in On board!

In Bayamack-Tam's theatrical adaptation, Kinbote appears as a direct continuation of Hermocrate – ironized, grotesque, but with the same basic structure. He lives with his sister Théodora and their ward Ayden in a secluded, "purified" world that excludes any form of emotional disorder – especially love. Marivaux's "Enclave of Reason" is clearly echoed in the description of this world: "No woman, no meat, no technology, nothing but books, flowers, and trees."On board!Like Hermocrate, Kinbote believed he could free his pupils from the dangers of the passions through asceticism and spiritual training. He was, like Hermocrate, a "rationalist educator" who derived his authority from a seemingly higher ideal: order, control, reason.

But Bayamack-Tam takes Kinbote's character to the point of grotesqueness: The world he has created doesn't seem like a bastion of wisdom, but rather a caricatured cult. Kinbote's authority appears ridiculous, his distrust of love like a neurotic projection. Sasha, the female schemer and seductress, aims precisely at this: Like Léonide in Marivaux's work, she enters the community in disguise and disrupts its apparent order through love, desire, and deception.

Like Hermocrate, Kinbote not only succumbs to emotional overpowering power but is also ideologically exposed: it is not love itself that is dangerous, but its suppression. Sasha says: “Kinbote et Théodora méritent une punition à la hauteur de leur crime, qui est un crime contre l'humanité.” The “education to refuse love” is portrayed here—as with Hermocrate—as a crime against humanity. Sasha takes the liberty of shattering this regime through passion and Eros. On board! This turns it into an explicitly anti-Hermocratic farce.

Arcady as the charismatic Hermocrate in Arcadius

Unlike Kinbote, Arcady does not appear as an ascetic or an enemy of love, but as a libertarian savior – a more complex, far more ambivalent figure. Nevertheless, he too can be understood as a Hermocrate-like figure – not in a rationalistic sense, however, but as a messianically charged authority figure who dedicates himself to the "protection" of those under his protection, while simultaneously establishing control, exclusion, and dogma. Arcady creates with Liberty House A seemingly open space intended to welcome society's wounded—the hypersensitive, the marginalized, the mentally ill. But this utopia is fragile, for it too thrives on demarcation—spatial (zone blanche), social (anti-internet, anti-state), moral (strict rituals, name changes, sexual rules). Like Hermocrate, Arcady speaks of freedom, but practices a form of rule that paternalistically directs the self-determination of its members.

Arcady's system, too, is based on the denial of reality: the world is not encountered, but rather excluded. The refugee crisis brings these contradictions to light (see previous analysis): Arcady preaches humanity but denies migrants entry—a contradiction that exposes his system, just as Hermocrates' rational worldview collapses due to his infatuation. Farah, with increasing maturity, recognizes that Arcady, too, is not above human weaknesses. His nurturing has narcissistic traits, his spiritual guidance proves to be a control mechanism—especially in the scenes where his sexual interest in Farah shines through. Here, too, the mask slips: the "father" is also a seducer, the philosopher also a human being with desires.

Comparison: Hermocrate – Kinbote – Arcady

feature	Hermocrate (Marivaux)	Kinbote (On board!)	Arcade (Arcadius)
Other specifications	Philosopher, educator	Integrist, cult leader	Libertarian leader, salvation preacher
attitude towards love	Rejection, mistrust	Prohibition, repressive	Ambivalent: preaches freedom, lives in control
Protected environment	Philosophical enclave	Anti-love commune	"Zone blanche"
Authority strategy	Rationalism, isolation	Dogmas, asceticism	Charisma, spirituality
Disturbing moment	Leonide	Sasha	Farah + Reality (e.g. refugees)
Exposure through	Seduction, passion	Infiltration, desire	Contradiction between ethos and practice
Final insight / Failure	Admitting feelings	Ridiculed, exposed	Disenchantment by Farah

The Fall of the False Fathers

In both of Bayamack-Tam's works, Kinbote and Arcady function as figures of patriarchal authority who—like Hermocrate—are defeated by the power of life, desire, and the truth of the body. The author thus reiterates Marivaux's central message: any ideology that rises above human passions risks becoming a denial of life—and therefore a caricature of itself. Through Sasha and Farah, strong female figures come into action who—like Léonide—overthrow the rigid system of the "fathers" not with violence, but with cunning, seduction, and enlightenment. On board! This happens with excessive comedy, in Arcadius with melancholic clarity. Both works thus carry Marivaux's enlightening project into the present – ​​as a feminist, queer, radically humane deconstruction of authoritarian systems.

This also has consequences for the role of disguise and the thematization of gender and identity: In Marivaux's play (Léonide as Phocion), disguise as a man is a strategic means for the woman to gain access to Agis. It is a traditional comedic trope that provides situational comedy and "genre confusion" without questioning the character's own gender identity. The revelation of her true identity is the dramatic climax. Similarly, in Bayamack-Tam's play (À l'abordage!Sasha disguises herself as a boy, but her "travestissement" is "better than a stratagem: it introduces a problem into the gender." The story addresses the contemporary discussion surrounding gender fluidity. The act of disguise is not merely a trick, but a means of subverting societal norms and expectations. Ultimately, in Bayamack-Tam's novel, Arcadius With Farah, the question of gender identity becomes the central, existential experience of the protagonist. Farah was born intersex and undergoes a physical transformation that leaves her neither clearly male nor female. She describes herself as a "chimère dotée d'ovaires et de testicules d'opéretette, une entité inassignable, un esprit libre, un être humain intact" (chimera endowed with ovaries and operetta testicles, an inassignable entity, a free spirit, an intact human being). Her struggle with her "dysmorphisms" and the desire to preserve her "féminité" (femininity), even as she develops masculine traits, represents a radical break with Marivaux's binary gender portrayal and a profound expansion of the theme of identity.

Excursus: Unmasking the Arcadian Utopia

In Emmanuelle Bayamack-Tam's Arcadius The refugee issue plays a central role – not only in a political sense, but also as an aesthetic and ideologically critical moment: The refugees are the real within the symbolic, their presence exposes the utopian-libertarian setting of the Liberty House community as deeply ambivalent and confronts the supposed idyll with a reality that it can neither integrate nor ignore without betraying its own principles.

Liberty House is conceived by Arcady as an alternative living space for "fragile" or "maladapted" people who wish to escape the demands of the modern world: technological overload, performance pressure, alienation. Farah's family also flees there—out of fear, illness, and a desire for protection. This community envisions itself as a paradise, as Arcadia In its original sense: a place beyond society, close to nature, anti-authoritarian, “white” in the sense of a “zone blanche”, free from electromagnetic radiation, technology, violence, state and capitalism.

But it is precisely in this claim to purity and separation that ideological blindness is concealed: Arcadius reproduced – in a new guise – exclusive structures.

The community lies on the border of the Italian Alps, a real hotspot of European refugee policy. In the novel, the migrants initially appear as "shadow beings," as fleeting figures in the forest, as nocturnal disturbances in paradise. Farah observes how some members of the community waver in the face of these people – while others rigorously close their doors. This tension reveals the double standard of the utopian project: on the one hand, unconditional hospitality is promoted (within the community), while on the other hand, access is restricted. from the outside denied – precisely those most affected by flight, violence, and exclusion. The refugees become a figure of the Real in Lacan's sense: they disrupt the Arcadians' "symbolic system," they cannot be integrated without destroying it – they call its fundamental assumptions into question.

In light of the refugee crisis, Liberty House no longer appears as a safe haven, but as a secluded enclave of Western privilege, a microcosm of a complacent society that portrays itself as resistant—yet risks nothing. The refusal to accept the migrants marks the moment of self-exposure in the text: the much-vaunted love, tolerance, and openness reveal themselves to be conditional, class-conscious, and exclusive. The community practices hospitality only under certain conditions: health, peacefulness, cultural proximity, and emotional compatibility.

The protagonist, Farah, becomes increasingly aware of these contradictions as she grows older. Her coming-of-age is simultaneously a political awakening: she recognizes the limits of tolerance, Arcady's paternalism, and the masquerade of openness. The refugee issue acts as a catalyst for an ideological critique – both for Farah and for the reader. In this respect, the refugees in Arcadius They are not mere peripheral figures – they are the weak point of the utopia. Their appearance exposes Liberty House as a system founded on exclusion while preaching inclusion. The refugee issue thus serves as a touchstone for the moral and political credibility of the entire setting – and ruthlessly lays bare its contradictions.

Conclusion: Homage through subversion

Bayamack-Tam's rereading of The Triumph of Love is not disposal, but a radical updating through queer recoding. In À l'abordage Marivaux's game of intrigue is transposed into the present day with gusto and cunning, without abandoning its dramatic core – the triumph of love remains, but it is now sexually offensive, gender-fluid, and resistant. Arcadius It goes a step further: the classic comedic structure is shifted into a tragicomic coming-of-age narrative. The constellations dissolve into ambivalent relationships; power is no longer distributed in clear roles but subtly permeates the community. Love doesn't simply triumph here—it must first redefine itself. In both cases, Bayamack-Tam honors Marivaux by developing his ideas further—not through repetition, but through productive alienation.

Farah is simultaneously heroine and object of desire, narrator and subject of a profound transformation. There is no more masquerade – Farah herself is "transformation." This thesis gets to the heart of Emmanuelle Bayamack-Tam's work. Arcadius and at the same time marks a decisive turning point in the literary treatment of identity, gender and desire – a turning point that is made clear by comparison with Marivaux' The Triumph of Love and Bayamack-Tam's adaptation À l'abordage can be made particularly clear.

This excerpt is a manifesto of Farah's complex, non-binary identity. She rejects simple categorization ("Je ne sais toujours pas ce que je suis") and defines herself as a "chimera"—a mixture of contradictory characteristics ("fille aux muscles d'acier," "garçon qui n'a pas peur de sa fragilité," "ovaries et testicules"). This is no longer a game of disguise, but a profound, lived reality and a central theme of the novel. It is not about uncovering a female identity beneath male clothing, but about asserting a fluid and unique identity that defies any simple categorization. Farah's identity is inextricably linked to her rebellious nature and her critique of the conformist world around her. This demonstrates the shift from a comedic illusion to a deep, contemporary exploration of self and norm.

The end of the travesty

In Marivaux's comedy, the masquerade is the central dramatic device: Léonide disguises herself as a young man to infiltrate the secluded garden of the philosopher Hermocrate and win back Agis, the legitimate heir to the throne, through cunning seduction. The masquerade serves a dual purpose: it secures Léonide's agency within a patriarchal order and allows her to act out her desires without explicitly naming them. Agis, for his part, is passive, intellectualized, and controlled by others—an object whom Léonide "educates" in love through active deception. The transformation is external, strategic, and reversible.

Sasha also in À l'abordage Sasha uses disguise as a means of infiltration. She slips into a male identity to subvert Kinbote's ascetic world and seduce Ayden. But this is where a break with Marivaux begins: Sasha is not merely playing a role, but destabilizing the entire binary gender system with her performance. The masquerade becomes subversive – not just deception, but performative critique.

In Arcadius The masquerade ultimately falls away – because Farah herself is the medium of transformation. She doesn't disguise herself, but rather changes. The novel doesn't describe a role reversal, but a physical, psychosexual, linguistic, and political transition. Farah is not a cunning heroine in Marivaux's sense, but a profoundly transformative figure: she is not only the one who acts, but also the one who is acted upon – by her environment, by language and ideologies, by desire.

Farah is simultaneously subject and object: she loves, is desired, writes about herself, is both medium and material of the story. In the tension between surrender and resistance, between adaptation and subversion, a complex self-becoming unfolds, which must be understood not as a solution, but as a process. She is a "heroine" because she asserts herself; she is an "object of desire" because she makes herself visible and legible; she is a "narrator" because she writes her story—not definitively, but tentatively; and she is a "transformation" because she does not commit to anything.

This interpretation has a reciprocal effect on Agis (Triumph) and Ayden (À l'abordageBoth are initially projections: Agis as the bearer of a lost monarchy, Ayden as the guardian of a spiritual purity. But while Agis is ultimately "reclaimed"—through Léonide's love and his consent—Ayden remains more ambivalent: his desire is awakened, yet he remains an enigma. He embodies not the restoration of order, but its dissolution.

From this perspective, Agis and Ayden become precursors to Farah – not in their active role, but in their position as a “border figure” between normative order and affective openness. Farah, on the other hand, unites both positions within herself: the one that subverts a system and the one that is shaped by that system.

The development from Léonide to Sasha to Farah marks the path from playing with identity to the existential poetics of self-becoming. While Marivaux still plays with stable concepts like "love," "gender," and "reason," Bayamack-Tam allows these concepts to be subverted. Arcadius They merge into one another. Farah is not a heroine of disguise, but of transformation. The mask falls—not to reveal a fixed truth, but to show that identity itself is a process, a fragile becoming. Thus, Farah is the queer answer to Marivaux's Enlightenment model: not the triumph of love over reason, but the triumph of change over any fixed form.

Comparative interpretation of the work endings

The three works – a classic comedy (The Triumph of Love), a queer adaptation (À l'abordage) and a contemporary novel (ArcadiusEach story concludes in a characteristic way: with a triumph of love, a strategic resolution in desire, or an ambivalent, open future. At its core, each story involves the breaking of a closed system through an affectively motivated intrusion – yet the handling of this rupture and its consequences is always different and revealing of the prevailing view of humanity and society in each era.

Three conclusions, three models of change

Work	Final form	Victory	Status
The Triumph of Love	Classic, closed	Love as a means of restoration	Order restored
À l'abordage	Open, comedically subversive	Pleasure as destabilization	Order is shaken
Arcadius	Ambivalent, introspective	Identity as self-empowerment	Leave order

The ending of Marivaux's comedy follows the logic of the 18th-century comedy model: After a series of mistaken identities, deceptions, and masquerades, Léonide removes her disguise, reveals her identity, and wins Agis's love. The philosopher Hermocrate's resistance is broken, the "rational" order is defeated, and desire has triumphed. le triomphe de l'amourBut this triumph is not purely romantic; it is also strategic and political: Léonide secures her claim to the throne through her marriage to Agis. The ending thus represents the restoration of a disrupted order—a monarchy united with love. The masquerade was a means to an end; the resolution brings clarity, legitimacy, and a future.

In contrast, it ends À l'abordage Not through restoration, but through disruption: Sasha does win Ayden over, but not in the sense of a stable partnership or social acceptance. The ending remains open, a moment of desire, not a fixed order. Kinbote's garden is desecrated, the ascetic system broken, yet there is no "return" to a perfect world—rather, a space of possibility opens up: lust, intimacy, freedom. The resolution remains deliberately provisional: the characters are agitated, exposed, uncertain. The comedic tone is not captured by a romantic wedding, but rather suspended in a moment of limbo. Desire transforms without stabilizing. The ending acts like a performative eruption: not a "victory" in the classical sense, but a radical destabilization of the order—in favor of lust.

Arcadius It breaks even more drastically with the classic comedy structure. The ending is open, melancholic, but emancipatory. Farah recognizes the dysfunctional structure of Liberty House, emancipates herself from Arcady, and forges her own path—as a transgender subject, as a political figure, as the narrator of her own life. There is no romantic union, no societal happy ending, but rather a break with utopia and the reclaiming of her own body and desire. Farah leaves a community that presented itself as a place of freedom but, in reality, controlled. The ending is a moment of self-empowerment—but without promises of salvation. Farah's path is open, vulnerable, but necessary. The triumph is not external, but internal: the sovereignty of her own transformation.

While Marivaux links the triumph of love with a return to social order, Bayamack-Tam decouples love and desire from institutional stability in her two texts. À l'abordage The comedy opens itself up to the queer and the indeterminate. Arcadius It goes further: It replaces the theatrical play of masks with an existential poetics of transformation – Farah's departure from Liberty House is not a happy ending, but a radical step into her own, as yet unwritten life.

This article is written in German and can be found at https://rentree.de. Automatic translations into English and French are available. English, French.

Notes

1. The featured image: Veronica Renner and Edward Im in Triumph of Love at Shotgun Players, Berkeley, 2023. Photo Credit: Robbie Sweeny.>>>