Ms. Kempe If You're Nasty

Since Isabella from Measure for Measure got brought up in class today, I've been thinking about it and I'm wondering more about the accusation that Margery is a "strumpet."

Isabella, some argue, is the most sexualized character in the text by her own power. Aside from the fact that sexuality if often placed on her (Angelo, the Duke, Claudia...there isn't a man in that play who isn't pressing some form of sexual discourse on her), Isabella herself is a physical character. Her description alone of how far she's going to go to be nonsexual is probably one of the most sexually charged descriptions in the play.

As much for my poor brother as myself:
That is, were I under the terms of death,
The impression of keen whips I'ld wear as rubies,
And strip myself to death, as to a bed
That longing have been sick for, ere I'ld yield
My body up to shame.
(i.iv)

Impressions of whips? Strip myself to a bed? What kind of asexuality are we dealing with here?

I think, however, a pronounced celibacy, like Isabella's screaming in the street or Margery's white robes, is a highly sexual state of being and Margery, like Isabella, is much more sexual than we think. It is, in fact, announcing your sexual status with every step that you take. It is constantly having your thoughts on your own chastity, which is, in fact a sexual state of being. Announced sexuality, putting yourself right into a field of vision, is more of her elective Othering.

Her main issue, when she runs into people who don't know how to take the white robes, is her sexuality. And the treatment she receives on page 83-85 sounds a whole lot like "Well, if you weren't wearing that skirt, this wouldn't have happened." It is an accusation that a woman is not only aware of her own sexuality, but bringing everyone else's attention to it, as well.

In fact, I'd go so far as to backtrack and say that the fear for the wives is not because they'd be shaking up the status quo by leaving the sexual economy, but instead that the wives would be more sexualized by entering a state of being that is, in fact, completely centered on sexuality and announcing that sexuality to anyone with eyes.

That also makes the accusation of strumpet...ness that much more accurate. If a strumpet is a prostitute, one who's business is sex, then Margery is a strumpet. More modern interpretations of prostitution as the site of revolution (the short story is that prostitution and sex work show heterosexual normatively for the sham that it is. If you can pay a woman, regardless of her sexuality, to perform heterosexuality with you, how "natural" can that be?) then Ms. Kempe is definitely a strumpet.

"And now I know how Joan of Arc felt"

No, this isn't a post about The Smiths song, but instead a comparison between Joan of Arc and Margery Kempe. While reading the text, I was struck by the similarities and difference between the two women who lived around the same time period in Medieval Europe. Though Margery is a fictional character and Joan is not, their lives are quite analogous and quite dissimilar.

Margery's dress is an issue several times throughout the text. Her desire, or rather God's will, to have her dress in virginal white is contrary to her position in society. As we've noted at other times in the course, one's dress was very important in Medieval society because it depicted social status. In this text, we see dress in a slightly different way. It is clear from the text, that Margery is certainly not a virgin. She has fourteen children with her husband. Although she rebukes and is revolted by his sexual desires, she still has lustful thoughts about herself and God. During her inquest, the Archbishop asks, "Why go you in white? Are you a maiden?" She, kneeling on her knees before him, said, "No, sir, I am no maiden; I am a wife" (p.91). There is something unnatural in Margery being clothed in all white. One sees the same thing when studying the trials of Joan of Arc. The charge brought against her, wearing men's clothes, is ultimately one of the charges in which she is burnt at the stake for. The Church regards Joan's choice of dress similar to that of Margery's. Dressing in such a way is unnatural. Yet, it is even more so, something that is against the Church, which in turn causes a person to be a danger to the Church and society as a whole. Not dressing in one's normal dress and being a well known figure is a threat to society because it could cause other women to veer off the normal course and wear such dress.

Secondly, both women claim to hear the voices of higher beings. For Joan this is also a cause for her demise, as she is deemed a heretic. Margery, however, is both praised and damned for her spiritual beliefs. For instance, when she arrives in Rome at the hospice of Saint Thomas of Canterbury the text states, "and there was she houseled every Sunday with greet weeping, violent sobbing, and loud crying and was highly beloved of the master of the hospice and by all his brother" (p.59). A few lines later the text describes a priest in the hospice who despises Margery, it states "he spoke so evilly of this creature and slandered so her name in the hospice that through his evil language she was put out of the hospice so that she might no longer be shriven nor houseled therein" (p.59). It is also interesting to note that most places Margery goes, clergy seek her out as being the woman who hears the voice of God. Moreover, in places where she is thrown out of, it is more for her absurd weeping and wailing and not her belief that she hears God.

Margery and something Monstrous

It's with a heavy heart that I post my last blog. I do not have any original points to add about Margery, but I did wanted to share a story.

Several months ago, I attended the SEMA conference and sat in on the session called Gender in the Middle Ages. A graduate student presented a paper on Margery Kempe cleverly titled, "'I Am Woman, Hear Me Wail': Discussing How Gender Affects the Authorship of Margery Kempe." Her paper basically noted Margery's defiance to the "male-dominated clergy" by her extreme actions. During discussion, the presenter explained that Margery's only term for herself was "creature." Margery acquired an nonsexual persona in the story instead of fighting against the male dominated clergy with her femininity. This statement really resonated in me. I hadn't realized that instead of using her sex, Margery loses her sex for humility and possibly, the ability to act within a category that does not have limits-that of a creature.

Well, in honor of this class, I wanted to leave this post with a video that shows a monster and an other. It has been a pleasure!

Comparing Silence and Merlin

Since we talked a little about Merlin on Thursday, I wanted to talk a little bit further on Merlin’s relationship to Silence. At first, the two just seem like rivals. Silence is supposed to capture Merlin and bring him back to the king. However, the two have similar qualities, and their actions mirror one another through the course of the poem.

First, both have innately superior qualities hidden by a more mundane front. Silence is the most beautiful creature that Nature has ever created, and her disguise, although it doesn’t hide all of her beauty, does dull it down a little, making her beauty less noticeable but her nobility still apparent. Merlin possesses magical powers which allow him to predict the future. The divine gift of foresight is hidden within the human exterior. Both characters have divinity, beauty or power, disguised by “normal” appearances.

Silence and Merlin both inhabit worlds which are not their own. Silence moves of her own volition, from being a minstrel to jousting tournaments to court. The masculine world in which Silence can move about freely is not the natural world her nature would have her inhabit. Similarly, Merlin also makes a crossover into a world he does not normally inhabit, which is the society of people. In both cases, they are able to display a unique understanding about their surroundings. Merlin, although not appearing to understand much about the social reactions appropriate to the different social situations he views, makes an appearance at court and shows more loyalty to the king than anyone else. Silence excels in every aspect of court life despite the unnaturalness of her being there.

Also, the two both reveal a truth about themselves that contradicts what we originally think about them. Merlin reveals that he knows more about the goings-on at court despite his being so cut off from court society. Despite his perhaps beastly appearance, Merlin understands more about the court than the authority, the king. Silence also reveals a truth about herself which no one else knows. That is of course, her relationship to Gorlain.

Silence and Merlin act similarly, and it makes me wonder what exactly Heldris was trying to accomplish with their similarities. Is it that despite their somewhat “deceitful” exteriors, they both act in the best interest of the king? Both Merlin and Silence, in their subversive actions, are both legitimized and not othered? Heldris certainly presents some strange views on Othering with Silence and Merlin.

Also, just in case anyone is interested, I found some neat links. One’s to an online beastiary: The Aberdeen Bestiary

And some other information on illuminated manuscripts: guided manuscript tours

Silence Embodying Masculinity

I really enjoyed Janel’s presentation and the emphasis she placed on how Silence is ‘othered’ not so much because she’s a woman dressed as a man, but because she is a woman ‘performing’ or fulfilling a masculine gender role. In the second section of the romance , I would venture to argue that Silence fully embraces, performs, and exhibits masculine behavior, even at the very end; this becomes apparent if we examine the narrator’s attitude towards women and how Silence’s actions contradict this attitude.

The narrator reveals his attitude towards women numerously throughout this poem, and it does not paint a pretty picture of them. Among them is the criticism he makes about a woman’s behavior or the intense emotions she is dictated by, when in ‘love.’ On page 183 the narrator states: “But her (woman’s) is not steadfast; it’s irrational and unstable. She loves and hates with equal ease.” Queen Eufeme embodies this particular idea, and illustrates the narrator’s words on page 245. On page 245, in the context of Queen Eufeme and the trap(s) she devises for Silence, the narrator tells us that for the Queen her ‘love was the same as hate.’ With all the misfortune that falls on Silence (threat of death in France, quest to find Merlin), there is never any mention that she/he hates the queen, even with all that she’s put her/him through. In addition to this, Silence acts in a way that ensures her ‘true nature’ will not be revealed, and the queen’s as well; her literal silence about the situation illustrates not only masculine behavior, as it is perceived in the book, for it tries to ‘not compromise the lady’s (Eufeme’s) position as queen,’ and attempts to protect the king from ‘shame.’ Moreover, returning to the narrator’s attitude on page 245, his words are literally echoed by Silence. On page 269, cornered by Queen Eufeme, Silence tells her, “What you call love is betrayal”; betrayal is an act of deceit or treachery, one could say, fueled by hate or an emotion that comes close to mirroring hate. Here is Silence not only talking as a man (narrator), but she seems to truly believe in what she says about the queen’s love; this may point to how she comes to embody a masculine perspective.

Although in battle Silence asks God to intervene, to help ‘strengthen what Nature has made weak,’ and despite her transformation in the end, it is the voice that Silence gains at the end that really determines her sex/masculine behavior. On page 301 the kind tells Queen Eufeme, “A woman’s role is to keep silent”; with the narrator’s attitude towards women in mind, this idea of literal ‘silence’ complicates the main character. One could argue that Silence in keeping ‘silent’ about the Queen’s advances and treachery, she is fulfilling a woman’s role: Yet, Silence exhibits masculine behavior when she states, “Nor do I care to keep silent any longer” (309). Interestingly enough, in revealing her ‘true nature’ she contradicts the notion that ‘a woman’s role is to keep silent.’ Silence undergoes a physical transformation, but has behaved and continues to behave in a masculine way until page 309: She re-defines the ‘woman’s role,’ and in the same instance exhibits masculine behavior. It is with the voice she gains at the end where masculine behavior, in the context of this poem, merges to a degree with feminine behavior.

Although Silence is a queen at the end, she still possesses ‘knightly’ or masculine attributes, embodying both a feminine and masculine ‘nature.’ Like Annie pointed out in her blog, “Silence,” precedes the story of Joan of Arc, a story that deconstructs fixed gender roles, and re-defines ‘woman.’ On a final note, even though Nature seems to win in the end, I wonder if she isn’t the only victorious? As Janel pointed out, Silence 'performs masculinity without being masculine,' though this changes at the end of the book. If Silence has been taught through Nurture, masculine behavior, and if she truly embodies this behavior in the end ( page 309) by ‘no longer being silent,’ and ensuring protection for herself from Queen Eufeme, both Nature and Nurture seem to be victorious.

Our Hero(ine)

Let me be one of the first to say how refreshing it is to be back in a romantic narrative! I really enjoyed this text for the story and the ideas it induced. One of the most prominent questions that came to my mind while reading this text was this: if our protagonist is a noble woman dressed up as a knight, then what does this do to the othering of people in the story? Until this point, our heroes have basically been strong, Christian men of nobility and worthy knights. Though many of these men were othered because of their unusual amount of strength, this story is centered on a woman, a person initially othered before any actions occur. We are now confronted with an unusual character we call the hero (or heroine).

We begin the story of Silence with her father winning the hand of her mother after defeating a monster, the dragon. It is through the interruption of this monstrous creature that Cador and Eufemie become close and marry. In addition, it is poignant to note that in the tedious pages of tension between the two for what they believe is unrequited love, it is the woman who finally makes the first proclamation of love. This does not seem fitting after the formal modes of courtship we have read between other knights and maidens. So, this story begins with an unusual union that emasculates the male. This union allows for the birth of Silence.

In a similar manner to Alan de Lille’s writing, we have a confrontation to Silence by Nature and Nurture, two entities oddities in themselves attempting to place the protagonist on their side. Nature’s desire for Silence to “go to a chamber and learn to sew” (line 2528) is its determination to have Silence inside and away from the world. Nurture and Reason intervene as well, and help to stabilize Silence in this othered category. Silence proclaims, “I’m a young man, not a girl / I don’t want to lose my high position” (lines 2650-1). As we see here, the othering done to Silence is innate because of being born female. She decides to hide her femininity by being male, but her strength as a knight later in the text will other her once again.

Even when Silence meets the minstrels and journey’s off with them, he is othered in his actions. While performing he is the one who stands out among the minstrels as best. He is noted as being the performer rulers wish to hear and bringing in the most money.

Though Silence is attempting to fit into a false category, there is one place where he fails: in the meaning to his name. Silence rejects the silent way of life given to him as female. He rejects being silent when playing instruments for others and othering himself by creating the most beautiful music. Silence seems to other himself from his own name in the process. However, by not placing himself concretely into his own name, he does great things, and has progressed farther than he would have if known to be a female.

I would argue that this othered protagonist appears to critique the contemporary modes of conduct. Contrary to other heroes, Silence is othered in a way that is deemed, as “lower” than men. She elevates her status and by her accomplishments, she problematizes the notions of othering. It is interesting to note that this story is a precursor to Joan of Arc, who will historically other herself by not only being a female knight, but also leading the French to victory over the English.

Poem 12: Otherness and Unfixed Gender

I really loved reading the poems in, “Wine, Women, and Death: Medieval Hebrew Poems on The Good Life.” Particularly, I was drawn to poem 12 not only because of the various ‘others’ that we are confronted with as the poem progresses, but because gender constructs seem unfixed as well.

In the beginning of the poem, the poet establishes himself as the ‘other,’ an outsider, with the line, “Many men will fault me.” The weight of the line seems to carry a moral judgment that surrounds the poet’s, ‘heart’s delight,’ and echoes Nature’s grievance and judgment in Allan of Lille’s, “The Plaint of Nature.” In “The Plaint of Nature,” Nature grieves because ‘man has inverted the rules of Venus, its arrangement of genders, and has deviated from the true script’ (134). Homosexuality or coupling that is not in the service of regeneration/reproduction is one of the sources behind Nature’s grievance, and drives her to ‘excommunicate’ those men that are said to go ‘against’ her, and their own ‘nature.’ The moral judgment found in “The Plaint of Nature,” seems to resonate in Poem 12’s, “Many men will fault me,” for the poet is expressing how men will criticize or condemn him, much like Nature, for loving the ‘fawn.’ Interestingly enough though, an ambiguity surrounds the poet’s position as an ‘other.’ The line, “Death to their kind,” seems to suggest that the poet is on the outskirts or alienated from dominating society (‘men’) because he is of a different ‘kind.’ Despite this, the use of ‘their kind,’ seems to be used in the same spirit or attitude we’ve seen attached to Saracens, infidels, heathens, etc. in our earlier readings, and other’s dominating society (‘men’). The poet’s contempt over dominating society’s (‘men’) views or attitudes towards homosexuality or coupling that challenges male and female gender constructs and does not adhere to the dominant or submissive position assigned to these constructs, is felt in this line (‘Death to their kind’); ‘men’ become othered because they can be seen as ‘doubtful members of a given category’ or in this case, group or culture. The poet’s ‘heart’s delight,’ ‘fawn,’ is also othered within the poem.

The ‘fawn’ is the epitome of beauty and the promise of love. The poet’s use of animal imagery works towards othering the fawn, not in a way to enhance bestial qualities, but to illuminate a beauty that is both female (‘beautiful hind’), and exotic (‘gazelle’). Raymond P. Scheindlin states that the line, “There’s Adonai!” is found in the bible, and speaks to how, “The world of the fawn exists at a higher level of reality than that of mankind.’ Although, this assertion pushes the fawn into an ‘othered’ realm because he becomes a subliminal character, it also others him by associating him with a female ritual; thus, the fawn does not adhere to gender constructs, and seem to take on the persona, such as one that Nature (Alan of Lille) believes ‘inverts the rules of Venus.’ Researching the word ‘Adonai,’ I found that it is associated with an ancient feast honoring Aphrodite and Adonis. This feast was only celebrated by women and took place during two days where Venus’s dead lover, Adonis, is resurrected. Although the word ‘Adonai’ establishes the fawn as male, it also places him firmly within a female realm; this is further reinforced in the next line when the fawn is called a ‘stubborn wight.’ Despite the fact that a wight is a creature, it is also defined as a ‘living being,’ and in light of the ‘Adonai’ ritual of bringing Adonis back to life, the second definition seems to be what the poet intended to imply. The fawn is ‘othered’ precisely because he resides not only in a world whose reality surpasses mankind, but a world that is female, and I would argue challenges gender constructs/roles. In lines 13 and 14 the poet writes: “He listened, and let me come home with him. He did what I wanted, obeyed every whim.” These two lines seem to invoke Nature’s (Alan of Lille) assertion on the subject versus the predicate, and how some men deviate from their nature by taking a submissive or passive role, the role of assigned to ‘woman.’ The fawn ‘listens’ much like the ‘Lady’ or maidens we’ve encountered in previous reading. He is submissive in the fact that he not only does what the Poet ‘wants,’ but ‘obeys’ the poet. The word ‘obey’ establishes how the fawn carries out or complies with the Poet’s demands, commands, instructions, etc, and reinforces a submissive/passive nature within him. Even the line, ‘I took off his clothes and he took off mine,’ establishes the poet’s male, dominate role, and the fawn’s, female, submissive role; not only is the poet mentioned first, but he is the one taking the active role, and initiating the act (taking off clothes). In the next line, although the fawn literally appears first, he is still taking on the role of a ‘lady,’ and adhering to notions attached to a female gender construct; the fawn ‘offers his lips,’ and the poet still maintains an active dominating role, for he ‘drinks of their wine,’ and there’s no mention of the fawn exhibiting the same level of activeness.

Towards the end of the poem the fawn rejects the poet with: “Get along with you, and be on your way. Don’t you seduce me and lead me astray.” Why the fawn rejects the poet is a little ambiguous, but the line ‘Don’t you seduce me and lead me astray,’ seems to not only depict the fawn’s fickleness or ‘capriciousness,’ but how he believes the poet actions to be immoral (lead me astray). To me this seemed to mirror the notion of a woman needing to keep her chastity in tact, and if the fawn is taking a passive/submissive role, one assigned to women, he is fulfilling it by rejecting the poet, and keeping his virtue, to some degree, intact. In addition to this, the fawn’s rejection re-establishes the poet’s otherness, for this is the second rejection the Poet experiences (‘many men fault me’), and establishes him not only outside of ‘their kind,’ but outside of the fawn’s realm as well.

I look forward to hearing or reading about what other parallels the class makes between “Plaint of Nature,” and, “Wine, Women, and Death.” Also, in what other ways, if there are more, do the ‘lovely youths’ ‘invert the rule of Venus.’