Christine de Pizan

Christine de Pizan
The Writer Christine de Pizan at Her Desk
Showing posts with label Veronica Franco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Veronica Franco. Show all posts

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Lucrezia Marinella, "A Woman of Wondrous Eloquence and Learning"

Lucrezia Marinella Vacca (9 August 1600)


Despite her literary fame among her contemporaries, we know very little about Lucrezia Marinella's life. She was born in Venice in 1571. She married Girolamo Vacca, but just when is not clear. We know that she had two children, Antonio and Paulina, only because they are named in her will, dated to 1645, and in a codicil, added in 1648, she mentions a granddaughter. She died on 9 October 1653 and was buried in the church of San Pantaleone, in Dorsoduro, one of the six sestiere, or districts, of Venice.

About Marinella's life, Letizia Panizza notes, "Despite the fame bestowed on her by her publications, her own life was lived in seclusion--the norm, it must be said, for a Venetian woman of her social rank, regardless of intellectual status."*

Marinella "did not travel," and "there is no evidence" that she was included in any of the intellectual and literary academies in the city. Nor is there any "record of her corresponding with her admirer Arcangela Tarabotti," her contemporary, living in the convent of Sant'Anna, whose own work, protesting “paternal tyranny,” addressed themes similar to those treated by Marinella.

Marinella does not seem to have known about another Venetian contemporary, the Jewish writer Sarra Copia Sulam, who was able to form a salon and engage in intellectual discussion with a variety of men of letters. Nor does Marinella mention the Venetian poet Veronica Franco, who died in 1591, just before Marinella begins her literary career.

But Marinella's work survives. Between 1595 and 1606, she published  ten books--including a sacred epic, The Holy Dove (La colomba sacra); an epic on the life of St. Francis; a life of the Virgin Mary, La vita di Maria Vergine imperatrice dell'universo; an anthology of sacred verses; a pastoral drama, Happy Arcadia (Arcadia felice); a life of the virgin-martyr St. Justine; a major prose life of St. Catherine of Siena; and a heroic epic, Enrico; or Byzantium Gained (L'Enrico overo Bisantio acquistato). 

I am posting about Lucrezia Marinella today, 9 August, because a dedicatory letter prefacing her most well known work, The Nobility and Excellence of Women and the Defects and Vices of Men, is dated 9 August 1600.

When I first ordered a copy of Marinella's book for my university's library, the collection specialist laughed uneasily at its title, so it's important to say something about that before we go any further. Marinella's title may seem odd, if not funny--or perhaps even offensive--today, but the title is carefully crafted and demonstrates that Marinella's work is a direct response to a vicious attack on women that was published in Venice in 1599, Giuseppi Passi’s The Defects of Women (I donneschi difetti). 

Passi’s Defects is a scathing attack on women, and it is voluminous in its treatment of women’s defects, running to nearly four hundred printed pages. It is also a work that proved exceedingly popular, running through at least three editions between 1599 and 1618. (Marinella’s book seems to have been republished at the same pace as Passi’s: the first edition of The Nobility and Excellence of Women was published in 1600, a second edition in 1601, and a third in 1621.)

To be sure, Passi does not present his work as an attack on women but, rather, as a book with an entirely worthy purpose, that of warning young men about women’s faults: “young men, in reading this book and learning of the deceits of women,” will be kept out of harm’s way, and to this end, Passi says that he will “consider carefully and discuss the infinite events that have befallen men on account of women.” In support of his “warning” Pass cites nearly two hundred and fifty authorities listed alphabetically, from Accurso and Augustine to Virgil and Xenarchus, at the beginning of his book.

Having marshaled his authorities for the reader’s immediate consumption, Passi then follows with a table of contents designed to illustrate his assertion that women are “defective”--and, if unchecked, a danger to men. This table summarizes the contents of the thirty-five chapters that follow. He begins with a chapter devoted to defining “woman,” then proceeds to a series of chapters, each devoted to a particular “defect”: “proud women,” “avaricious and traitorous women,” “lustful women” (with their inordinate appetites), “irascible women,” “gluttonous and drunken women,” “envious women,” “boastful women,” “ambitious women,” “ungrateful women”--all in the first ten chapters.

Women are pitiless, adulterous and “roving”; women prey on men, selling their own sexuality--as prostitutes and whores--or selling other women, as bawds. Women dabble in magic, they color their hair, they love to adorn their bodies with beautiful clothing and jewelry, and they are entirely untrustworthy, their beauty and their advice equally dangerous to men. Chapter 21 is devoted, simply enough, to jealous women, while Chapter 22 bristles with synonyms, devoted to women who are fickle, inconstant, unstable, frivolous, credulous, foolish, and stupid. Further chapters focus on women who are nosy, litigious, hypocritical, vain, and, in another chapter filled with excess, “faint-hearted, cowardly, timid, and fearful”; women are “worthless, incompetent, and useless.” Women are obstinate, indolent, thieving, tyrannical, fraudulent, and, in yet another bit of overkill, “slanderous, talkative, feigning, biting, and lying.” And, finally, they are unable to bear any of life’s adversities.

As if this comprehensive enumeration of women’s weaknesses isn’t enough, Passi provides yet another extensive list, this one a detailed, eight-page table of all the “notable things contained in the work,” a more-or-less alphabetical hodge-podge of women’s faults (from their appetite for wine, for example, to their venery), of infamous women (from Agrippina the lustful, for example, to Xantippe, the quarrelsome wife of Socrates), and of praise for assorted worthy men (Alexander the Great, for example, noted for his continence) and their revelation of women’s failings (Virgil, for example, who is said to have given evidence of women’s rapacity). If you're inclined, you can take a look at Passi's diatribe by clicking here.

In her discussion of Lucrezia Marinella's literary response to The Defects of Women, Panizza calls her work “dazzling” and “blistering”—a veritable “fireworks display” of Marinella's “stunning” mastery of philosophical, medical, historical, and literary authorities and arguments. Panizza notes that it was composed “at a furious rate” as a direct reply to the misogyny of Passi.

To that end, Marinella’s response to The Defects of Women is two-fold, as indicated by the title my friend and colleague found so funny: first, Marinella will defend women’s “nobility and excellence” against attacks like Passi’s, and then she will herself go on the attack, enumerating the “defects and vices” of men.

In countering Passi’s attacks, Marinella throws male authorities back at Passi—Homer, Plato, Aristotle, Plutarch, Petrarch, and Dante, to name only a few, are all used to defend woman’s nature, her “essence,” and even the very name, “woman,” by which she is known. As Marinella reaches her fifth chapter, “Of Women’s Noble Actions and Virtues, Which Greatly Surpass Men’s, As Will Be Proved by Reasoning and Example,” Marinella is ready to move from defending women to cataloguing their abilities. She has already shown that women possess nobility of soul; now she is ready to show “that their actions are more esteemed than men’s.”

Marinella relates the stories of “learned women and those who are illustrious in many arts,” of “temperate and continent women,” and of “prudent women and those expert at giving advice.” “It is a fact known to everyone,” Marinella asserts, that “we never see or read about [women] getting drunk or spending all day in taverns, as dissolute men do, nor do they give themselves unrestrainedly to other pleasure.” Women are “moderate and frugal in everything.” 

After completing her argument that women are “far nobler and more excellent than men,” Marinella then undertakes what none of her predecessors since Christine de Pizan has dared: she not only “corrects” men’s judgments about women, but she challenges specifically, and by name, a number of her male contemporaries, specifically those who have, motivated by the “arrogance” and “envy” of Aristotle, revived his “shameful and dishonorable” denigration of women.

One final aspect of Marinella’s writing back to Passi is the way she has constructed her work. She is not only responding to them, she is mirroring them. She responds to each argument with a corresponding argument, each quotation with a countering quotation, each example with an example of her own. 

Lucrezia Marinella’s Nobility and Excellence of Women and the Defects and Vices of Men, first published in 1600, was expanded and republished in 1601. A third edition appeared in 1621. 

But, like so many women intellectuals and writers who preceded her, Lucrezia Marinella, renowned for her “eloquence and learning,” was rather quickly forgotten. As Panizza indicates, “after her own century, Marinella’s name and The Nobility and Excellence of Women become items in catalogues,” and her “works all but disappeared from sight.” 

Lucrezia Marinella is mentioned twice in the eighteenth century and once in the nineteenth; her works were not republished. Even as the twentieth century drew to an end, only one of Marinella’s many and varied works, her 1605 Arcadia felice, finally appeared in a critical edition in Italian in 1998. 

Anne Dunhill’s 1999 translation of Marinella’s The Nobility and Excellence of Women, with its excellent introduction by Letizia Panizza, which I've quoted here, was the first time any of her work was made available in English. Marinella's epic, Enrico, is now also available in a new English translation, as is her life of Mary and her Exhortations to Women.

These new editions all contain excellent introductory materials, but if you are wanting an easily accessible biography, with a particular analysis of Marinella's arguments in The Nobility and Excellence of Women, the entry on Marinella at the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy is particularly good, and it contains an excellent bibliography.

*Parts of this post have been adapted from Debating Women, Politics, and Power in Early Modern Europe (Palgrave Macmillan).



Sunday, August 2, 2015

Veronica Franco, the "Cortigiana onesta" (the "honored courtesan")

Veronica Franco (letter to Cardinal Luigi d'Este, 2 August 1580)


Born in Venice in 1546, Veronica Franco was the daughter of Paola Fracassa, who was a cortigiana onesta, an "honored courtesan," and Francesco Franco. 

Veronica Franco, c. 1575,
portrait by Tintoretto,
whom she thanks in a letter
About the problematic designation "courtesan," Ann Rosalind Jones and Margaret Rosenthal distinguish between the prostitute, or meretrice, the whore, or puttana, "the poorest class and most morally condemned category of sex worker," and the cortigiana:
Cortigiana--"courtesan"--had a different meaning. It was derived from cortigiano, meaning a man who served at court, so it had connotations of splendor and technical or at least bureaucratic expertise. The addition of onesta meant "honored" rather than "honest," that is, privileged, wealthy, recognized. . . . [I]t was in the interest of a woman aiming for the heights of this profession to insist on the high-cultural accomplishments that separated her from poorer, less educated, more vulnerable women in the sex trade. The cortigiana lived splendidly, she had an intellectual life, she played music and knew the literature of Greece and Rome as well as of the present, she mingled with thinkers, writers, and artists.
Franco's education was begun in childhood, when she shared her brothers' tutors; she was also trained to follow the profession of her mother.

Franco began her career in the 1560s as a cortigiana onesta, but she married a doctor, Paolo Panizza, in what seems to have been a a short-lived union; in a will written in 1564, when she was pregnant with her first child, Franco asks her mother to demand restitution of her dowry from Panizza if she dies in childbirth. The father of her child, however, is a wealthy merchant, Jacomo di Baballi, whom she asks to assume responsibility for the child if she dies. (In all, Franco gives birth to six children, but only three survive.)

By the 1570s, Franco furthered her education by means of the literary salons frequented by artists, writers, and learned men. In 1575, Franco published a volume of poetry, the Terze rime (Poems in Terza Rima). This anthology contains eighteen verse epistles, in three-line terza rima, written by Franco and seven by various admirers in praise of her. 

In 1580, she published Lettere familiari a diversi (Familiar Letters to Various People)--I've used the date on one of the dedicatory letters, to Cardinal Luigi d'Este, as the date of this post. A second dedicatory letter is to Henry III, king of France (one of Catherine de' Medici's sons). In this collection of fifty letters, as Rosenthal notes, we see Franco engaged in a number of activities: playing music, sitting for a portrait, cooking meals, and writing.
A sonnet to Henry III,
from Familiar Letters

In others, Rosenthal observes, Franco "portrays herself as a moralist, giving advice to patrician male friends and to a mother thinking of making her daughter into a courtesan. Her familiar letters, intended for publication, allow Franco to shift her private life into the public sphere; they permitted her to comment in print on the behavior of men and to insist on the courtesan's virtue, reason, wisdom and fairness."

In her poems and letters Franco takes a number of feminist positions. In Capitolo 16 (Poems in Terza Rima), for example, she offers "A Challenge to a Poet Who Has Defamed Her: 

   When we women, too, have weapons and training,
we will be able to prove to all men
that we have hands and feet and hearts like yours;
   and though we may be tender and delicate,
some men who are delicate are also strong,
and some, though coarse and rough, are cowards.
   Women so far haven't seen this is true;
for if they'd ever resolved to do it,
they'd have been able to fight you to the death.
   And to prove to you that I speak the truth,
among so many women I will act first,
setting an example for them to follow. . . .
   And I undertake to defend all women
against you, who despise them so
that rightly I'm not alone to protest.
Franco was brought before the Inquisition in 1580, under suspicion of having performed acts of magic (her son's tutor denounced her). She was freed, but she had already lost many of her possessions during a plague in 1575-77 (her home was looted), and she lost a long-time patron who died in 1582 (Domenico Venier, who had defended her in the Inquisition courts). She died at the age of forty-five in 1591--although much is unknown about the last years of her life, a 1582 tax record gives her place of residence as a district where many destitute prostitutes lived at the end of their lives.

For a brief biographical essay, see the one posted by Margaret Rosenthal at Italian Women Writers, from which I have quoted here. For something more substantial, see Rosenthal's excellent full-length biography, The Honest Courtesan: Veronica Franco, Citizen and Writer in Sixteenth Century Venice.

Jones and Rosenthal's edition of Franco's work, from which I have also quoted, is Veronica Franco: Poems and Selected Letters.