LHMP #543 Larson 1997 Sex and Civility in a 17th-Century Dialogue

This article examines the 17th century pornographic text L’Escole des filles (School for girls) not only as a sexual dialogue but as a satire (or at least reflection) of the fashion for pedagogical texts aimed at women and girls. This is illustrated (literally) by the frontispiece image in the 1668 edition, which depicts figures representing the two women in the dialogue studying a copy of the book itself in an academic setting.

The article begins with a brief publication history. The first edition published in France in 1655 was immediately banned, but Dutch editions soon supplied the market and the work was widely distributed across Europe. Authorship has been hotly debated and most critical studies have focused on it as a pioneering work of pornography—a focus dating to 18th century discourse about the book. Occasional discussions have raised the theme appearing in this article: interpreting it as a “sex manual” or perhaps a “seduction manual,” situated within a tradition of works of moral education for women (and their satires, as with Molière’s L’Ecole des femmes, published 1660).

This emerging tradition of pedagogical works reflects contrasting shifts: printed educational works (in the vernacular) made their subjects accessible to a broad range of the population, while also undermining the expectation of individual knowledge and expertise. In this specific case, rather than sexual education being something one received from family and neighbors, it became a type of esoteric knowledge only transmissible by “experts.”

Another contradiction comes from the (almost certain) male authorship of the text contrasted with the internal framing of the content as passed from one woman to another. Some scholars discussing this point make rather tenuous claims for a “tradition” of considering women to be the experts in erotic arts in the pre-modern world. Larson suggests instead that the image of the “female sexual pedagogue” did exist, but as an invention of male authors. The dynamics of textual production mean that, to the extent that there was a tradition of women as sexual teachers, it would have been an oral tradition.

As noted previously, the other relevant tradition was that of manuals of moral and social education which had become prevalent in the 17th century. These manuals were typically created for (or one might say, aimed at) a female audience as part of the program of controlling and shaping women’s behavior. This tradition had existed for at least a century at the time L’Escole des filles was published, starting with works such as Castiglione’s Book of the Courtier, which aimed to define standards and structures of polite and refined behavior. In contrast to earlier genres of instruction that focused on biographies and stories, these were more prescriptive and organized more as a reference work with indexes and descriptive headings.

The Counter-Reformation and its focus on feminine moral instruction was a significant driver in this fashion, but the contents have significant secular focus. The books themselves might emphasize the dangers of human teacher as contrasted with a text that could be reviewed for appropriateness and approved prior to dissemination.

The tradition of sexual texts also contributed to the format and nature of L’Escole des filles. Aretino’s 16th century Ragionamenti (dialogues) adapted an existing tradition of dialogue-based exposition to sexual topics, using discussion between female characters. The best-known sexual text had been versions of Ovid’s Ars Amatoria, presenting itself as instruction in seduction and successful sexual relationships. Both works were, at heart, cynical satires presenting women as focused on how to exploit men sexually for their own advantage (with some nods to the economic factors that inspired such an attitude). Both were primarily satirizing social conditions, with the sexual aspects as the medium of that critique. In contrast, L’Escole des filles primarily satirizes the process of educational instruction, with the sexual content presented as titillation for the reader, where earlier works had framed sex as a tool rather than an experience. Where Aretino treats sex itself cynically, L’Escole emphasizes the importance of sexual pleasure and the ability to both experience and provide it.

There is a constant tension in L’Escole between orality and textuality. It is both: a written text representing an interactive dialogue. Initially structured as a casual conversation between the ingenue and her experienced mentor about an upcoming marriage, it moves on to a more structured presentation of information, such as a catalog of terminology for sexual organs and acts. In this structure, it resembles philosophical dialogues. The success of this instruction is manifest, not simply in the ingenue’s new sexual knowledge (and practice), but in her overall increase in social fluency and self-confidence.

Returning to the topic of L’Escole as a “textbook,” Larson details the structural elements of the text and how it “fragments” the contents in to modules that might be studied or reviewed as needed, made easier by a detailed index of topics. The author’s preface is a parody of similar introductions in educational manuals.

The article ends with an anecdote potentially tying together the traditions of conduct and sex manuals more closely. One of the accused authors of the text was a sometime tenant of the widow of the author of the first French conduct manual. Coincidence or synergy?