Duby then goes on to explain that, in its most schematic form, the protagonist of a what was once known as fine amour (refined love) fiction was always "a 'youth' in both senses of the word ... a man without a lawful wife ... and a man young in age, whose education was not yet complete. This man besieges and tries to take a lady, a woman who is married and therefore inaccessible ..." (Or, as a recent female contestant on "Taildaters," an actress/model named Sasha, put it, "You've got to prove to me that you're, like, worthy of what I have to give.")
Trying to get the medieval equivalent of the boss's wife in the sack was not without its risks. As Duby explains, at the heart of this model of romance lay danger. In this way, courtly love was basically an educational game, and "the more perilous the test, the more educational it was." Though a male contestant on, say, "Taildaters" is unlikely to be beheaded or barbecued for successfully managing to remove his lady's bikini top in a hot tub, televised rejection is no picnic either. Potential harm to suitor/suitress: Check.
Or take "Change of Heart." On this show, a couple with problems agrees to go on separate blind dates with strangers, which are then monitored by a "date cam." The couple's respective blind dates are chosen for maximum home-wrecking potential. After the conclusion of their respective blind dates, the couple reunites on the set with their new friends and a Cindy Crawford-esque host, who encourages the audience to weigh in on whether they should go their separate ways (the audiences "whoos" the most hostile wooers.) More often than not, couples torture each other with examples of the superiority of their new buddies, then decide to stay together. Here we have an educational game at its most perilous. Lessons learned the hard way: Check.
Next, Duby compares the practice of courtly love to the pop-culture phenomenon of the day, the wildly popular jousting tournament. "As at the tournament," he writes, "the young man was risking his life in the hope of improving himself, of enhancing his worth, his price, and also of taking, taking his pleasure, capturing his adversary after breaking down her defenses, unseating her, knocking her down and toppling her ... But this game, which was an education, also called for competition. It involved winning the stake -- the lady -- by outdoing rivals."
Whoa! Is it "Dismissed"? "Elimidate"? "The Fifth Wheel"? Or could it be the ultimate erotic spectator sport, "Taildaters"? On these shows, dating is raised to the level of a brutal competition. All of these shows depend heavily on the competitive nature of the vying suitors, who will usually stop at nothing to win the affections of some dude or dudette they have just met. The much-imitated "Dismissed" involves a man or a woman going on a date with two members of the opposite sex. At the end of the date, the man or woman "dismisses" one of his or her dates.
"Elimidate" uses a similar model, sending a man or a woman on a date with four members of the opposite sex. "The Fifth Wheel" sends two men on a date with two women and throws in a fifth tempter/temptress for good measure. "Taildaters" updates the format to suit our sedentary times. Two couples are sent out on two dates, while four of their closest friends and exes stand by with couch-bound play-by-play analyses and impromptu, text-messaged plays. Romance as competitive spectator sport: Check.
Ultimately, Duby concludes that courtly love, as it related to the real lives of the knights and ladies of 12th century France, had much more to do with an attempt on behalf of the secular and religious powers that be to teach men and women to regulate their desires and to mold social relationships. Duby wonders if perhaps life did not begin to emulate fiction, a question that forms quite naturally after watching a dating-show marathon. (Check.) Courtly Love also served to "enhance knightly values, and as far as ostentation, illusions and vanities were concerned," (Check) "it helped control the element of disorder and to tame the young." (Check.)
Then Duby really goes out on a limb. "Courtly love taught men how to serve, and serving was the duty of the vassal." The boys and girls on dating shows may not learn about love, but they sure learn how to give good TV. They're not at the service of some unwashed provincial lord but of us, the audience, the great untrammeled id behind the camera. We're their collective liege and master; they'll do anything to please us as long as we keep watching.