She has a god-daughter, Bérangère de Champchevrier. I don't know how she came about having the little girl as a god-daughter, though it would have happened when Fleur-de-Lys was 14 years old. Other than all this, she had no major part in the novel. She was involved in a chapter of womanly jealousy toward Esmeralda, and in the end, she still felt malice toward Esme for ruining Phoebus' reputation (slightly). That's about it.
Vis-a-vis, the tall cathedral reddened by the setting sun, on the balcony of frequented stone above the porch of a rich gothic house which made the corner of the square and the street of the Parvis, some beautiful young girls were laughing and chatting with all sort of grace and foolishness. From the length of veil which fell, from the summit of their pointed hats encircled with pearls, to their feet, from the finesse of the embroidered chemisettes which covered their shoulders, allowing view, according to the engaging fashion of then, of their beautiful virgin throats (breasts?), from the opulance of their under-skirts, more precious yet than their outer ones (wonderful refinement!), from the gauze, from the silk, from the velvet from which it was all stuffed, and above all from the whiteness of their hands which attested them to be idle and lazy women, it was easy to guess that they were noble and rich heritesses. They were in effect Damoiselle Fleur-de-Lys de Gondelaurier and her companions, Diane de Christeuil, Amelotte de Montmichel, Colombe de Gaillefontaine, and the little de Champchevrier.
--Victor Hugo, "Of the Danger of Entrusting One's Secret to a Goat," Notre-Dame de Paris
I suppose it's best to examine the few times she appears in the novel. She is introduced with a group of women in one chapter, where it is revealed that she is Phoebus' fiancee. Her mother is made to be an incompetent, old woman, and the first glimmer we see of character in Fleur is the shame she feels for her mother's stupid, out-dated fashions. She understands that her mother is an embarrassment, but she doesn't seem to give her mom the cold shoulder. Though she doesn't hug her mom, either. She's obviously an aristocrat who has been trained in all the elegant manners of grace. She never puts a foot wrong, nor does anything improper. But Hugo makes it clear that she's no idiot. She's not ignorant of Phoebus' coldness in regards to their betrothal. She's often hurt by him, but being the proper young lady, she can do nothing more than the subtle attacks within her hidden arsenal.
And Hugo also tries to express (through very little characterization of her and the grouping of all the women together) that she's a typical clone. She doesn't have independent thoughts, save the noble woman's thoughts. She is obediant, quiet, and unassuming. Yet Hugo gives her an obviously jealous and free-thinking mind, which she is never allowed to express blatantly. I think his demonstration of the noblewomen's attempts to attack Esme without obviously attacking her was actually quite accurate. His whole portrayal of this social class seemed very in-depth. But that's the noblewomen. Back to Fleur-de-Lys, though she's hardly distinguishable.
During the course of the book, the reader sees her about two more times. Once with Phoebus on the balcony when Esme was being taken to the gibbet, and again with Phoebus in a brief interlude. In the balcony scene, it's revealed that she doesn't really know that Phoebus was involved with Esme. But she suspects it. And her jealousy, much greater than any compassion, made her demand that they both stay there and watch her when Phoebus wanted to go inside (at this point, Phoebus had been scared back to women who wouldn't get him killed if he tried to take advantage of them, so he was trying to get her alone in the room). I don't know if this means she has no compassion. She has just about as much as the rest of the Parisian crowd. The last time we see her, she's still trying to avoid Phoebus' ardent advances. I'm not sure if she succeeded.
Now, her last name....well, this is going to take some thought and far-stretches, at least in part. Gond means "hinge" or "hinge-pin" in French, and laurier is a laurel tree. Those also happen to be the sigils of her house. I would guess that 'hinge pin' could mean something like the book hinges on her, or something less stupid. I'll have to give it some thought.
Laurier, however, is just a fun connection. But first you need to know the legend of the laurel. In Greek mythology, it is said that the sun god Apollo (Phoebus Apollo) fell in love with a beautiful nymph named Daphne, who wanted nothing to do with him. He pursued her, and in desperation, she asked her father, a river god, to save her. So he did and turned her into laurel tree. In his grief, Apollo took the leaves of that tree and made the laurel crown now awarded in most Olympic-like events and frat parties. I think the symbolism at this point is fairly obvious. Fleur-de-Lys in the end tried to avoid Phoebus' lascivious attempts to get her, escaping him just as Daphne did Apollo. And Phoebus pursued her in short amorous moments for lust, but mainly for the honor such a wedding would bring. He pursued her for a laurel crown. Or we could compare this to Phoebus and Esme, but that's not quite as good as the Phoebus-Fleur comparison.
I'm joking obviously (obviously). She was in quite a few of the movies, surprisingly. Or at least the ones where Phoebus had to look like a jerk. But, like in the book, she usually doesn't serve much of a purpose. She's just not that interesting of a character, I'm afraid. But I'll do a quick run-down on her major (or minor) parts.
I suppose she might have been in the earliest silent films, though I have no way of confirming that. In the 1923 version of Hunchback of Notre Dame, she was played by Winifred Bryson. Her major role in the movie is to throw a ball with her mom and look at Esme particularly nasty when Phoebus introduces her as the Queen of Egypt, or something. One word. Jack-a-napes. S'aaaall I'm saying. She shows up toward the end to take a soldier to Phoebus' bedside. Geez, he gets stabbed while having a secret rendez-vous with some gypsy harlot, and she's still loving enough to care for him in her home. Now that's devotion..
1939 had Helene Whitney as Fleur-de-Lys in the Charles Laughton classic. She did not have an impressive role in this one. Even Fleur's mom is credited before she is (and it's not alphabetical order). As far as I remember, there was one scene at a party where she gave Phoebus hurt, spiteful looks while he took in his salacious fill of Esme dancing. I don't even remember her speaking once. After Phoebus is killed a scene or so later, there is no more mention of Fleur.
Danielle Dumont plays Fleur-de-Lys in the 1957 Notre Dame de Paris, starring Anthony Quinn. Never seen this one, so I don't know much about her. What do you wanna bet she has no big part other than being Phoebus' fiance? She probably shot Esme a few nasty glares, then went to get a doughnut while they made the rest of the movie. Hehe, I just don't want to take that part out. Honestly, she is featured in only one scene that is particularly notable for its utter lack of acting. These noble women, including Fleur and Phoebus (ehh..oops...he's not included in the noble women crowd...heh...heheh) look down from a balcony on the square. They note that Esme's down there, and that Phoebus had met her before. Then Fleur asks him to run her off, since Fleur's so jealous. Yes, for the average IQ of movie-goers, all subtlety is taken away and the message is written in large, red letters across the screen.
Hetty Banes played Fleur-de-Lys in the made-for-TV movie Hunchback of Notre Dame in 1977......can't say much else, but that I heard it's supposed to be accurate. That still doesn't mean much for the case of Fleur...
But Fleur unfortunately had no parts in the 1982 movie nor the 1996 Disney movie nor the 1997 TNT original movie. I know that Disney didn't include her because, hey, Phoebus had to be free to hook up with Esme, and no way will Disney give him a fiancee. As for the '82 and '97 versions, I just don't think they saw a need to include her. More cast memebers means more money they have to dish out.
Then there's the 1998 musical production Notre-Dame de Paris. This is by far Fleur's biggest and most active role in the entertainment spotlight. She is actually characterized! Gasp! I'm going off the performance by Julie Zenatti, which I believe is by far the best performance of the role. She starts the musical off as a sort of little girl (she's 14 in the musical), absolutely obsessed with Phoebus and how happy their lives will be, together. Then she finds out about the thing between Phoebus and Esme, and she just flies off the handle. In a song with particular passion, "La Monture" ("My Heart if You Will Swear" {not a literal translation}) she tells Phoebus flat out that she is not going to be screwed around with. There's only room in his life for her, or there's no room for her at all. She tells him that she can take him or leave him, so he better choose wisely, and he better choose by hanging Esme. Most fans seem to adore her for this independent, I'm-woman-hear-me-roar stance, but seem to ignore she just put the nail in Esme's coffin. But I don't think most of them like Esme. This is a far cry from the nearly thoughtless clone in Hugo's novel.
True, Fleur doesn't have much, but at least producers recognize that she was indeed apart of the plot. The next character on the list, Paquette, doesn't even have that.
Black and white picture (c) RKO Pictures
Color (c) Pomme Apple Entertainment (both taken by me)
Graphics used without permission and will be removed immediately upon request
Otherwise, all text and some of the graphics (c) Misty Woodard, 2000-2001.