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Monday, May 21, 2018 - 07:00

In following up on references to gender transgression in medieval Arabic literature, I’ve been struck by the way certain motifs align differently from what we see in the literature of Christian cultures. In European romances, “Amazonian” characters who dress and act as men are often a context for accidental homoeroticism. Cross-dressing in general also provides this opportunity. But as we saw in Rowson’s article on categories of cross-dressed entertainers in medieval Baghdad, the social signals and assumptions around gender-crossing were different in the Islamicate world, in part because of the greater normalization (if not actual approval) of male homosexuality. I chose Kruk’s article to cover to illustrate some of these differences even though it touches on female homoeroticism only very tangentially.

There is a long history in western culture of projecting female homosexuality onto the Other, and especially onto an Orientalist fantasy of harems and odalisques. Lesbian historical fiction is not immune to this projection. That makes it all the more important to familiarize ourselves with how issues of homoeroticism and gender performance were understood within the cultures we may consider as fictional settings. The "woman warrior" motif was popular in medieval Arabic epics, but she represented different things from the woman warrior of European chivalric romance, and the gender dynamics of these stories are very different. Historical fiction that wants to use motifs like these as a jumping off place either needs to engage with those differences or risk being nothing more than yet another Orientalist fantasy.

Major category: 
LHMP
Full citation: 

Kruk, Remke. 1998. “The Bold and the Beautiful: Women and ‘fitna’ in the Sīrat Dhāt al-Himma: The Story of Nūrā” in Women in the Medieval Islamic World: Power, Patronage, and Piety, ed. Gavin R. G. Hambly. New York: St. Martin’s Press. ISBN 0-312-21057-4

[The following is duplicated from the associated blog. I'm trying to standardize the organization of associated content.]

In following up on references to gender transgression in medieval Arabic literature, I’ve been struck by the way certain motifs align differently from what we see in the literature of Christian cultures. In European romances, “Amazonian” characters who dress and act as men are often a context for accidental homoeroticism. Cross-dressing in general also provides this opportunity. But as we saw in Rowson’s article on categories of cross-dressed entertainers in medieval Baghdad, the social signals and assumptions around gender-crossing were different in the Islamicate world, in part because of the greater normalization (if not actual approval) of male homosexuality. I chose Kruk’s article to cover to illustrate some of these differences even though it touches on female homoeroticism only very tangentially.

There is a long history in western culture of projecting female homosexuality onto the Other, and especially onto an Orientalist fantasy of harems and odalisques. Lesbian historical fiction is not immune to this projection. That makes it all the more important to familiarize ourselves with how issues of homoeroticism and gender performance were understood within the cultures we may consider as fictional settings. The "woman warrior" motif was popular in medieval Arabic epics, but she represented different things from the woman warrior of European chivalric romance, and the gender dynamics of these stories are very different. Historical fiction that wants to use motifs like these as a jumping off place either needs to engage with those differences or risk being nothing more than yet another Orientalist fantasy.

# # #

Scholarship on medieval Arabic literature has tended to focus on scholarly works or on the specific set of stories that has come to western attention as the Thousand and One Nights. Only recently has the enormous corpus of traditional popular epics begun to receive more attention and analysis. This article looks at one specific episode in a longer epic that illustrates the popular motif of the warrior woman, and how she becomes a force either for disruption or stability.

The role of women in the popular epic tradition is very different from how they are depicted in the more literary traditions. Female warriors are a popular stock figure in the epics (not only in Arabic language traditions, but also in Persian and Turkish). Female characters are typically portrayed as clever and resourceful. Sometimes the female warrior will be a close relative of the male hero and serve as a counterpart, sometimes she will begin as an antagonist and eventually be incorporated into the social structure through marriage. Often she is a link to “outside” cultures. There is a common motif (as in the story discussed here) of female Christian warrrior figures being brought into Islamic society not only through marriage but through conversion.

Kruk is interested in examining how the image of women in epic literature differs from the image of men, but in the present paper is only examining one specific example to explore the different roles women may play. The specific figure in question is the Princess Nūrā, a Byzantine princess who figures within a story cycle about conflict between Muslim forces, led by a woman, Dhāt al-Himma, and her son, against seven Byzantine castles. The superficial male focus of the epic is belied by the way the story revolves around how desire for Nūrā disrupts the social stability of the Muslim forces and the struggle between Dhāt al-Himma and Nūrā to neutralize her effect by means of pairing her off to one of the men.

Nūrā is introduced as the daughter of the king of one of the Byzantine fortresses. She and her female companions live in a monastery apart from the fortress where they engage in all sorts of revelry including wrestling matches, at which Nūrā excels. They are listening to tales about the wars between the Arabs and Byzantines and especially about one particularly heroic Arabic warrior. Nūrā expresses a desire to meet the warrior (the summary notes “even though until now she has only been interested in women”--take that as you will) and by strange coincidence he’s been spying on them and makes himself known. He immediately falls in love with Nūrā. In fact, pretty much every many in the story falls in love with Nūrā--Muslim and Byzantine alike, which provides much of the conflict. Eventually (and it’s a very long, drawn-out eventually) Nūrā is married to this Arabic hero, converts to Islam, and continues to play a major role in the epic as a warrior.

The article takes a detailed look at two repeating themes during the adventures that form that “eventually”: the ways in which men lose all responsibility, dignity, and judgement when driven by obsessive desire for Nūrā, and the relationship between Nūrā and Dhāt al-Himma as the latter attempts to control the disruption caused by the former. Although Dhāt al-Himma expresses admiration and sympathy for Nūrā, her primary concern is to maintain social stability.

There is a continuing theme throughout the epic of how Nūrā is considered an existential danger (her prospective husband is so terrified of her on their wedding night that he orders her to be tied up and drugged), and Nūrā’s willingness to use this as one of her weapons in battle, including uncovering her face or breasts to distract her opponents and defeat them. Many of the adventures involve captures and escapes and competition among various men for the right to Nūrā. If Nūrā isn’t exactly given a choice in these matters, her resistance to being married off against her will shapes a great deal of the narrative.

While much of the interactions between Nūrā and Dhāt al-Himma have a flavor of shared exasperation at the antics of the men, there are indications that Dhāt al-Himma is not entirely immune to Nūrā’s attraction. We can overlook one episode where the matriarch participates in a combat over who will “get” Nūrā as being intended to keep the princess still in play, but there are other episodes where Nūrā seems to appeal to a sense of female solidarity that transcends other loyalties, and some where Dhāt al-Himma herself experiences the force of Nūrā’s sexual attractions, as in one case where they embrace and kiss when Dhāt al-Himma is in disguise and al-Himma expresses at least a hypothetical desire for her.

Within the epic, the existence of female warriors and their normalization on both sides of the combat is taken for granted. Nūrā and Dhāt al-Himma first meet when the latter is besieging the Byzantine fortress and both women express a specific interest in meeting each other in combat. When Nūrā is first captured by the Arabic forces, it is by Dhāt al-Himma herself, who then thinks to herself that she understands why the girl causes so much disruption: “if this girl had been a man, I would have lost my head.”

But in the end, Dhāt al-Himma’s primary concern is to neutralize Nūrā’s disruptive potential, which is done by enforcing her marriage to the designated hero by a disturbing use of overwhelming force. Even so, the hazard Nūrā represents continues until she is “domesticated” by her hatred turning into love, by her conversion to Islam, and by the production of children, although she still continues her martial activities throughout the remainder of the epic.

Time period: 
Sunday, May 20, 2018 - 14:51

Those of you who follow me on Twitter or Facebook got the first informal initial squee on this last weekend, but now the official annoucement is up at the Gaylactic Spectrum Award website, naming Mother of Souls Best Novel for 2017. I can't express how very happy this makes me, putting Alpennia on a list filled with authors like Melissa Scott, Elizabeth Bear, Ginn Hale, Laurie J. Marks, Nalo Hopkinson, and David Gerrold. The Gaylactic Spectrum Awards are given for science fiction and fantasy works with strong positive queer content. Both Daughter of Mystery and The Mystic Marriage were finalists for the award, and I have to say that the quality of the competition is such that I would have been perfectly proud to continue making that finalist list. So I'm over the moon to have Mother of Souls recognized in this way.

Major category: 
Promotion
Publications: 
Mother of Souls
Saturday, May 19, 2018 - 07:00

Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast - Episode 54 (previously 22c) - Book Appreciation with Jeannelle M. Ferreira - Transcript

(Originally aired 2018/05/19 - listen here)

Heather Rose Jones: This week, Jeannelle M. Ferreira, author of the lesbian regency romance, The Covert Captain, joins us again to talk about some of her favorite reads that feature queer women in history. Welcome back, Jeannelle.

Jeannelle M. Ferreira: Hi, thank you again for having me. I thought and thought about my favorite historicals and if you love Regency romances, you can't do much better than Spring Flowering by Farah Mendlesohn. It's super, super faithful to the light and sweet Georgette Heyer standards. I just love it so much. I kept harking back to it because, you know? You can do this, you can do a lesbian regency, and people love it. I also like Kissing the Witch by Emma Donoghue. It was a very germinal work for me because it was the first time that I sort of saw the alternative historical setting. They're short stories, I think every single one has a queer woman and at least a briefly mentioned romance between women. Emma Donoghue is now mostly known for her novel Room I think. Which doesn't have queer content, but I still have her down in my head as one of the best writers of queer historicals. She nails every detail even when it's a fantastic setting.

H: I first encountered her as a writer of history books! Her works on queer women in history, from the historical point of view, are some of my favorites.

J: Oh yeah, she has Passions Between Women and We are Michael Field. Passions Between Women—if you don't have that text and you're at all a queer historian now, you really should. But that's not fiction, I wrote down some fiction. I did my assignment. So, I was really pleased in 2014 when your book came out, Daughter of Mystery, I liked that one. And if you want something completely different, I really like Jae's Backwards to Oregon and its sequel. It is about hot lesbian ranchers, but it's also very very plausible. You have to get to the Old West somehow and that's just fraught with danger and I think someone even gets their period. Someone on the Oregon Trail gets their period while they're passing as a man, I think. Nobody ever goes there, that's awesome. [laughing] It's an awesome duology of books. I think duology is two. Duet? I don't know.

H: Yeah, duology. I think there's even more than that. ‘Cause I think there's a third book that continues on next-generation characters or something. I'm not sure, I haven't read them but you pick up these details.

J: I have the two first ones in actual paper/tree book on my bookshelf and I cherish them. It's not explicit queer content but Rosemary Kirstein's The Steerswoman books to me are some of the most amazing fantasy for queers even if I'm only coding it for queers. And I love it, so I say it's queer.

H: Yeah, they get recommended a lot to me as... Well, it's very peculiar. It has a fantasy flavor but a science fiction underpinning and lots and lots of very strong female relationships. I've got them sitting on my iPad, I haven't gotten around to reading them yet. The to-be-read list is so long.

J: Yeah, my to-be-read list is pretty deep. And I think that she is also working on one of those. Sometimes writing is at the 'please don't tap the glass' stage of process, [Heather laughs] so definitely the three that are out there are good. So, those are my picks.

H: Yay, that sounds like a pretty good shelf to work on. Thank you so much Jeannelle for sharing those books with us, of course I'll include links to all the titles in the show notes.

J: Wonderful, thank you so much.

Show Notes

In the Book Appreciation segments, our featured authors (or your host) will talk about one or more favorite books with queer female characters in a historic setting.

Links to the Lesbian Historic Motif Project Online

Links to Heather Online

Links to Jeannelle M. Ferreira Online

Major category: 
LHMP
Monday, May 14, 2018 - 07:00

The field of medieval "queer studies" has included a fascination with possible erotic and sexual interpretations of religious imagery and language. Some of the interpretations, I confess, have always felt a bit far-fetched to me. But here we look at the writings of one particular religious woman, Hadewijch of Brabant, whose language is undeniably erotic and passionate, addressing the image of "Lady Minne", whose name reflects erotic rather than platonic love. And there is just enough confusion and ambiguity in how the figure of Minne is intertwined with Christ and with Hadewijch's disciples and students, that one gets a clear impression of using ecstatic religious language as a medium for expressing romantic desire between women. This provides a different angle on the idea of women's religious networks and communities as creating the opportunity for same-sex love. Rather than images of sex-starved nuns seeking erotic fulfillment, or concerns about "special friendships" developing into inappropriate closeness, what if some religious women considered their same-sex attractions to be a positive embodiment of the devotion they also felt for God?

Major category: 
LHMP
Full citation: 

Wiethaus, Ulrike. 2003. “Female Homoerotic Discourse and Religion in Medieval Germanic Culture” in Gender and Difference in the Middle Ages, in Farmer, Sharon & Carol Braun Pasternack (eds). Gender and Difference in the Middle Ages. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis. ISBN 0-8166-3893-4

Wiethaus, Ulrike. “Female Homoerotic Discourse and Religion in Medieval Germanic Culture”

[The following is duplicated from the associated blog. I'm trying to standardize the organization of associated content.]

The field of medieval "queer studies" has included a fascination with possible erotic and sexual interpretations of religious imagery and language. Some of the interpretations, I confess, have always felt a bit far-fetched to me. But here we look at the writings of one particular religious woman, Hadewijch of Brabant, whose language is undeniably erotic and passionate, addressing the image of "Lady Minne", whose name reflects erotic rather than platonic love. And there is just enough confusion and ambiguity in how the figure of Minne is intertwined with Christ and with Hadewijch's disciples and students, that one gets a clear impression of using ecstatic religious language as a medium for expressing romantic desire between women. This provides a different angle on the idea of women's religious networks and communities as creating the opportunity for same-sex love. Rather than images of sex-starved nuns seeking erotic fulfillment, or concerns about "special friendships" developing into inappropriate closeness, what if some religious women considered their same-sex attractions to be a positive embodiment of the devotion they also felt for God?

# # #

The author looks at texts that can be read as homoerotic  addressed between religious women in medieval Germany. She specifically rejects the approach of treating women’s homoerotic experiences as equivalent to, or subsumed under, men’s experiences. After examining this type of literature in general, she applies that understanding to the writings of a specific woman who helped develop the concept of Christian bridal mysticism: Hadewijch of Brabant (early 13th century).

In a medieval religious context, a search for texts that fit a contemporary model of homoeroticism will turn up very little. Instead one must examine the social relations and power structures within which the texts are created to identify constraints on how women are able to express homoeroticism and how these feelings can be encoded in acceptable forms both as expression and resistance.

Hildegard of Bingen’s writings about homoeroticism demonstrate this conflict. On the one hand, she repeats the official condemnatory views prevalent in theological texts of the time, while her liturgical songs and personal correspondence, which were aimed at an exclusively female audience, express strong same-sex attachments and a homoerotic aesthetic.

Elite male writings set out the accepted views and opinions on female homoeroticism that could be expressed in standard theological texts. But genres that were predominantly composed by and for women found ways to explore more positive expressions of homoerotic experience. At the same time, these texts represent only a small fraction of the more elite educated female religious community and it is difficult to tell whether they reflect the experiences of less privileged women.

These woman-centered texts supply evidence for same-sex attachments within German women’s religious communities, expressed within creative and imaginative spiritual expressions that were often wrapped in layers of metaphor. Wiethaus cautions that we have no direct evidence whether the women who created these textual expressions also engaged in homoerotic sexual acts. For that matter, we can’t always know what types of acts they would have considered to be sexual.

Much of the homoerotic expression focuses on imagined spiritual figures including the Virgin Mary and Minne or “Lady Love”, a personification of divine ecstatic love which Hadewijch used regularly in her writing. This use of a female personification of a spiritual abstraction can make it difficult to determine whether Hadewijch’s writings express a spiritual experience or passionate attraction for a fellow religious woman. The female personification of Minne is also mapped onto the figure of Christ in some contexts, resulting in the bridal language associated with Christ being transformed into expressions of one woman courting and marrying one another.

Hadewijch’s writings were primarily pedagogical, exhorting her students regarding forms of spiritual experience. In format and meter, her writing draws heavily on secular love lyrics. Manuscripts of her verses and letters were circulated widely among religious houses in northern Germany and the Low Countries, indicating her fame as an authority and teacher.

Wiethaus reviews the official Christian theological opinions about gender and sex, and how attitudes toward female same-sex eroticism were driven by patriarchal principles and a focus on condemnation of usurping male roles and prerogatives. Homoeroticism (female and male) could only be envisioned within a heteronormative structure, where one partner was identified as the active “male” role and the other as the passive “female” role. Because gender hierarchy (male above female) was viewed as a theological principle, violations of that hierarchy in the context of homoeroticism were treated as religious crimes.

The most common rationale for condemning homosexuality was that it was “against nature”--a category that also covered a variety of other sex acts. But some authors called out specific acts and behavior, either as examples or as arguments. Hincmar of Reims (9th century) cited women’s use of “certain instruments” for sexual activity. Peter Abelard (12th century) argued that sex between women was sinful because God had created women’s genitals for the “use of men”. Although the details of penances often differentiated between male and female homosexuality, writers such as Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas placed them in the same conceptual category.  Homosexuality became associated with religious heresy by various means, and vocabulary shifted between the two senses.

Despite the theoretical equivalence of male and female homosexuals, penitential literature often specified lighter penalties for women, with unmarried girls or widows being punished less harshly than married women, but acts involving an artificial penis were considered the most serious. Specific references to female homosexuality in penitentials can be found in Theodore (ca. 670) and Bede (ca. 734).

Due to the association of homosexuality with heresy, capital penalties often specified death by burning, though some of the rare recorded cases involving women were carried out by drowning, as for Katherina Hetzeldorfer (1477).

Secular literature tended to be less explicit on homoerotic topics. Although courtly literature includes many intense same-sex friendships between women, including visions of all-female utopias, even the idea that these relationships could involve sexual activity was avoided, in contrast to the detailed descriptions of trial records from a somewhat later date.

Moving from texts produced by male hierarchies (both clerical and secular) to texts authored by women, we find that discussions of physical same-sex attraction focus on kissing and caressing, not on the genital activity that gets the focus in male-authored works. Expressions of strong emotional attraction are common, while appreciation of physical attributes is more rare. The celibacy required of religious women might be one pressure against genital imagery, but spiritual writing was rife with heterosexual erotic imagery focused on the image of Christ as lover. When female religious authors touched on male homosexuality, then followed the party line in condemning sodomy.

The texts that most clearly express homoerotic sentiment between religious women are two (possibly three) rhymed love letters apparently written by and to nuns, dating to the 12th century. In form, they follow the conventions of love lyrics, lamenting the absence of the beloved and making references to physical attributes and suggestions of physical intimacy.

Wiethaus cautions that the letters may not literally indicate actual relationships (as opposed to being literary exercises) but neither should that interpretation be rejected. Even within some marginal theories that the poems were written by men in a female voice, there is an acknowledgement that they depict female same-sex love in a positive fashion.

The genres that women writers used most effectively to communicate with female audiences were letters, visionary writings, and devotional texts. These texts, as exemplified by the writings of Hadewijch, show a spectrum of women’s relationships, some featuring an exclusivity that is highlighted as suspicious in instructional manuals for nuns. But it is a recurring theme among elite female religious leaders to have a chosen confidante and companion whose chief attributes were faithfulness and a desire to be in close proximity to her friend. Within this context, there are blurred lines between mutual affection and same-sex desire.

Correspondence either between such confidantes or describing these relationships to others use heightened emotional language: “I would gladly have died for her”, “I never looked at her without experiencing true joy”, “I always went to her as if she were God Himself.”

Comparing these texts with the descriptions of female homoeroticism in male-authored literature, the conception of same-sex desire is radically different. Men discussed it in terms of abstract categories and genital acts, while women emphasize intense emotional experiences and attachments to a specific beloved individual.

The article concludes with an in-depth analysis of how Hadewijch’s writings develop an entirely new framework for expressing eroticized desire between women, adapting the bridal imagery of mysticism and blending explicit eroticism with spiritual imagery. Her life also illustrates a relationship-type seen for other religious women: the merging of an age-differentiated mentor-student bond into one involving an intense and eroticized bond.

One of the features of Hadewijch’s writings is the use of the allegorical figure of “Minne” (the word indicates romantic love--as in “Minnesinger”, the German equivalent of a troubadour--as contrasted with spiritual love). The figure of Minne appears in three roles: as a spiritual guide, as a symbol of love used to express female desire for another woman, and as an idealized alter ego for Hadewijch herself.

Hadewijch also employed heterosexual bridal imagery focused on Christ that was strongly erotic, and which sometimes shifts sideways into a more gender-ambiguous image, especially when emphasizing the equivalence and identity of the two lovers (worshipper and Christ). But “Lady Minne” is mentioned more often in Hadewijch’s writings than Christ and God combined, depicted as provoking an overwhelming and ecstatic emotion that was to be pursued and reveled in.

“...lightning is the light of Minne...in order to show who Minne is and how she can receive and give--in the sweetness of clasping, in the fond embrace, in the sweet kiss, and in the heratfelt experience when Minne actually speaks. ‘I am the one who holds you in my embrace!’”  (There are many extensive quotations which continue this theme.)

Hadewijch’s letters to her female students provide evidence for certain specific attachments in language that evokes that of romantic love, in particular a woman named Sara. She exhorts them to “do everything with reliance on Minne” and expresses jealousy that they might turn away to other mentors. The blending of religious and personal emotions allowed Hadewijch to express same-sex desire “hidden in plain sight.” Sometimes shifts and ambiguity in reference blend Minne with her students, lending plausible deniability to passionate expressions:

I greet what I love
With my heart’s blood.
My senses wither
In the madness of Minne...
O dearly loved maiden
That I say so many things to you
Comes to me from fresh fidelity,
Under the deep touch of Minne...
I suffer, I strive after the height,
I suckle with my blood...
I tremble, I cling, I give...
Beloved, if I love a beloved,
Be you, Minne, my Beloved;
You gave yourself as Minne for your loved one’s sake...
O Minne, for Minne’s sake, grant that I,
Having become Minne, may know Minne wholly as Minne!

Time period: 
Place: 
Sunday, May 13, 2018 - 08:41

The Matter of Alchemy: Deciphering Medieval Practices

Organizer: Jennifer M. Rampling, Princeton Univ.

Presider: Peter M. Jones, King’s College, Univ. of Cambridge

Reading the Books of the Sages: Byzantine Hermeneutics of Ancient Alchemical Recipes Matteo Martelli, Univ. di Bologna

Byzantine alchemical texts present themselves as in a direct line from ancient sages, such as the 1st c treatise of Democritus containing works such as how to make gold, silver, and gemstones, or how to dye wool purple. Later texts often presented themselves as “rediscovering” or reinventing these techniques, usually accompanied by a citation of the “genealogy” of the text or techniques. Some alchemists such as 11th c Michael Psellus argued for the scientific, not magical, basis of their art, though the focus was still on creating gold. (He also discusses properties of gemstones.) Psellus collected 11 recipes for making gold and ascribed them to Democritus. Many collections of prior works were available to him, as a basis for his own experiments. Psellus was also interested in the making of precious stones and making pearls. E.g. Parisinus gr. 2325 13th c ms on “Deep Tincture of Stones, Emeralds, Rubies and Jacinths from the Book Taken from the Sancta Sanctorum of the Temples”. This work covered issues such as the identification of single ingredients, the interpretation of specific terminology, and discussions of methodological issues. We now look at a specific recipe.

”Take some komaris, which is difficult to find -- Persians and Egyptians give it the name of tálak, others the name of talák -- a half ounce; sulfer, a half ounce; water of untouched sulfur, 18 ounces; dilute the komaris and mix it with mercury; put the substance in a small glass vial and keep it.” The substance “komaris” appears in several different grammatical forms (or perhaps variants) and appears in several recipes. But what is it? Modern scholars point to the root of a plant Comarum palustre. But the Arabic equivalent suggested in the ms is “talc, talcum powder”, suggesting an entirely different substance. Elsewhere, komaron is glossed as “aphroselenon” (moon foam) as a cryptic identifier. The text now looks deeply into what the nature of this substance is. Does it come from multiple substances or is it a single species? Democritus says it is wine dregs and egg white and that you dilute it and rub it on a stone to turn it into a pearl. No specific textual citation for this is given, but it can be narrowed down based on the topic to a now lost volume surviving in Syriac translation. In this Syriac version, “komaris” (from Scythia) is a substance that is put into quicklime, mixed with wine dregs, and then rubbed on the stone you want to turn into a pearl. [Note that the actual nature of komaris is not indicated.] So is komaron the same thing as moon foam, or is it a separate substance that is combined with moon foam for the process? Or is the multiplicity of names and substances simply an accumulation of successive glosses and explanations?

“The Secret of Salt”: Salts and Their Use in Medieval Arabic and Judaeo-Arabic Alchemy Gabriele Ferrario, Johns Hopkins Univ.

Interpreting the nature of the substances referenced in alchemical texts is hampered by the use of obscuring alias as well as a different conception of the nature of substances between the writers of the texts and modern chemical theory. Substances such as sulfer and mercury had a symbolic importance that went beyond their chemical substance, and alchemy treated them as creating other substances by means of manipulating the proportions. this paper looks at the category of salts as used in alchemical processes. Despite being less important symbolically, the proper understanding and manipulation of salts was essential to successful alchemical processes. Looking specifically at the writings of Muhammad ibn Zakariya Al-Razi. [Sorry for omitting the diacritics.] Al-Razi is said to have complied his text when reaching the end of his life when he wanted to preserve his knowledge. The contents first cover substances, then equipment, then operations. These operations are described in reference to the primary substances defined and described in the first section. Al-Razi describes 11 salts: weet (kitchen) salt, bitter salt, Andarani salt, Tabarzad salt, Nifti salt, Indian salt, egg salt, alkali salt, urine salt, lime salt, Oak ashes salt. Several of these names refer to the geographic origin but give no indication of the nature. E.g. Andarani salt, which is described as coming from a specific location, but the name is a corruption of a simple description. “Nifti salt” seems to refer to the act of splitting with an axe, suggesting a large crystal structure, but is also called “black salt”. The difficulty alchemists had in obtaining the correct ingredients derives from discontinuity in the knowledge of what these terms referred to. Later interpreters often worked backwards experimentally from the described results to identify which ingredients would produce those effects. In a later Arabic treatise “On alums and salts” we see many brief recipes that follow the same linguistic formulas as Al-Razi, hence the tendency of some translators to ascribe it to him. Latin translations of “On Alums and Salts” appear in the 14-15th centuries, as well as an Italian Hebrew translation from teh 16th century. All these point to the importance and fame of the Arabic text. The Hebrew translation has many translator’s interjections “this means” or “it seems to me” suggesting an experimenter’s commentary attempting to add value to the translation.

So what does this text say about salts? In a long discussion of the nature and varieties of salts, much of the description implies ordinary “kitchen salt”, though varieties are described as Indian, red, lime, bitter, compact, and references to geographic origin. Salt is treated as a purifying agent. The author has been trying to trace references to salt in alchemical fragments in the Cairo geniza. Most of them are recipes that can probably be traced back to translations of Al-Razi.

Getting Blood from the Stone: Alchemy as Decipherment in Medieval England Jennifer M. Rampling

In 1403-4 the alchemical production of precious metals was outlawed in England to prevent adulteration of the money supply. But at this time, an alchemist named Morton set up a workshop at Hatfield Peverel for practical production of precious metals, illustrating the conflict between alchemy as philosophical practice versus alchemy as craft. The unfortunate Morton ended up in court in violation of the aforementioned statue. This paper looks at who English alchemists talked about their ingredients. These included not only chemical substances, but also biological substances as well as salts and alums. The philosophy/craft distinction became manifested in a differential focus on metallic substances versus a broader range of natural ingredients. That is pure Aristotelian philosophy could be expressed in the pure “souls” of metals and their transformations. But this metal-based process was problematic in that it began with precious metals and therefore was expensive [and presumably, less attractive to patrons]. There was also a problem in the long manuscript tradition that included the wider descriptions of biological/natural substances. The philosophical tradition now begins to argue that references to ingredients like “eggs” or “blood” were meant only allegorically or to conceal the truth from the unlearned, and actually referred to the pure metals. The philosophical alchemists might distance themselves from the (illegal) craft-based approach, but the latter continued in popularity, focusing on “cookbook” style recipes with material goals. Getting back to Morton, although he allied himself with the philosophical alchemists, his own experimental writings included the broader non-metallic ingredient set. This is not the only example of conflict between alchemical philosophy and alchemical practice. As in the Pseudo-Ramon Llull Practica Testamenti which begins with a philosophical framing that uses an alphabetic mnemonic for ingredients but then includes not only the metallic mercury, but vitriol azoqueus, saltpeter, which then combine to form a “sticking menstruum”. [We now see the result of the paper author’s own experiments to reproduce some of these recipes.] The obscurity of texts such as this in a real sense drive experimentation, as the words themselves were insufficient for clear identification. This type of “translation” of supposedly allegorical terms, can be seen full circle in “practical” alchemists concluding that references to gold and silver as alchemical ingredients were themselves allegorical rather than literal references. This then drove further experimentation to identify what ingredients those “allegorical metals” were actually referring to. Philosophy might dictate alchemical discourse, but rarely succeeded in limiting practice.

Major category: 
Conventions
Saturday, May 12, 2018 - 17:06

This year's book haul isn't as extensive as the usual. Just like for papers, the topics coming out of publishers run in cycles, and I guess we're just at a low cycle for the topics I'm currently interested in. Due to the weird interface issues I'm having with the website, I'm not going to try to post cover images this time. So here's what I bought:

Ferguson, Gary. 2016. Same-Sex Marriage in Renaissance Rome: Sexuality, Identity, and Community in Early Modern Europe. Cornell University Press, Ithaca. ISBN 9778-1-5017-0237-2

Obviously this is at least tangentially related to the LHMP, though the content is overwhelmingly male-oriented. The book primarily focuses on one particular marriage ceremony and the community of men involved in it, but there is a more extensive consideration of the social and conceptual context. I've been aware of this book since it was published but when there was more competition for my shopping dollars last year it didn't make the cut.

Netherton, Robin and Gale R. Owen-Crocker eds. 2018. Medieval Clothing and Textiles 14. The Boydell Press, Woodbridge. ISBN 978-1-78327-308-9

This is a regular purchase every year. Assorted articles on clothing and textile related topics. This year's volume includes a catalog of Byzantine and Oriental silk textiles found in early medieval Denmark, a look at late medieval female hairstyles that appear to involve depillitation, and yet one more assault on the question of exactly what the conceptual structure of the French Hood is.

Morgan, Faith Pennick. 2018. Dress and Personal Appearance in Late Antiquity Brill, Boston. ISBN 978-90-04-34395-5

I'm still a sucker for a new book on surviving garments from the Roman empire, even though I've more or less moved on from my deep focus on surviving garments. But surviving garments can still tug my heartstrings sufficiently that I'll also shell out for...

Coatsworth, Elizabeth and Gale Owen-Crocker. 2018. Clothing the Past: Surviving Garments from Early Medieval to Early Modern Western Europe. Brill, Boston. ISBN 978-90-04-35216-2

This is an in-depth look at 100 specific garments or accessories that illustrate interesting features not only of the clothing themselves but of the circumstances of survival.

Skinner, Patricia ed. 2018. The Welsh and the Medieval World: Travel, Migration and Exile. University of Wales Press, Cardiff. ISBN 978-1-78683-188-0

A fascinating study of medieval Welsh interactions with the larger European world. One of these days I really will do something creative again with my Welsh interests.

Fonte, Moderata (Virginia Cox, ed.). 2018. The Merits of Women Whereis is Revealed their Nobility and their Superiority to Men. University of Chicago Press, Chicago. ISBN 9780226550633

An edition of a late 16th century Italian feminist treatise. The bookseller said it was a very popular purchase and I can see that it will be a fun read. (Alas, it's being shipped so I can't use it as my plane reading on my return trip.)

And that's it for this year. Not my usual super-abundance, but maybe that means I'll get caught up with reading some of the book I've brought home in previous years.

Major category: 
Conventions
Saturday, May 12, 2018 - 13:44

Last year there were a number of fascinating sessions on magic and occultism in the Islamicate medieval world. I’m still gathering up deep background on this topic for future fiction projects, and this one really caught my eye.

Occult Blockbusters of the Islamicate World II: Arabic and Persian

Sponsor: Research Group on Manuscript Evidence; Societas Magica

Organizer: Matthew Melvin-Koushki, Univ. of South Carolina

Presider: Liana Saif, Univ. of Oxford

Fakhr al-Din al-Razi’s Hidden Secret and Islamic Occult Soteriology Michael Noble, Warburg Institute

Speaking about an early 13th century scholar. His studies included astrological themes and the creation of talismanic objects that synthesized three disciplines of natural philosophy: astrology, medicine, and spiritual discipline? [I missed the third--I’m having a little trouble hearing the speaker]. The practitioner must first establish a balanced spiritual discipline to create a connection with [???] then the following of a number of rituals to establish a connection with the desired astrological entity, then a talisman is created from materials attuned to the particular heavenly bodies being invoked. The completion of the ritual represents perfection of the soul. In theory, this discipline was not tied to any particular theology. Razi was interested in the basis for human psychic connections with the celestial spheres that enabled this process to achieve magical outcomes. This understanding draws on Avicennian philosophy regarding mystical visions. Access to these sorts of visions or abilities can be innate or can be achieved through spiritual training.

A Sorcerer’s Handbook: Al-Sakkaki’s Thirteenth-Century Complete Book Emily Selove, Univ. of Exeter

The speaker suggests a modified title for the book is “The book of the Complete One.” Al-Sakkhaki is better known as a grammarian, but this handbook ties together magical aspects of language to his better known reputation. There are questions about authorship as the book is in Middle Arabic rather than scholarly Arabic, though this could be explained by its nature as an informal handbook. The contents are an assortment of spells to create effects or control supernatural beings, including the summoning of demons. An example is shown of a spell that is functionally a cookbook recipe for a stuffed chicken, but with added requirements: a black chicken and signs included to create the magical effect (I missed the details but something like achieving a desire?).The text includes diagrams for talismanic spells -- such as one to cause hatred between friends. In three manuscripts specific talismanic diagrams are reproduced with extreme faithfulness. [This paper seems to be something of an informal guided tour through the manuscript rather than a specific thesis about it.] We get a digression about how excerpts from these spells are circulating on the internet, evidently describing current folk-magic use. The avoidance of Al-Sakkaki’s magical pursuits when discussing his work, it is suggested, is due to embarrassment about the magical field in general. We now digress into imagery about paradisical banquets in the afterlife and rituals involving cups and beautiful young boys. [I’m losing the thread here.] A discussion of how the omission of Arabic diacritics (the vowel marks -- not sure about the technical term) renders a book of spells difficult to decipher, but may also be to render them “safe” on the page? More on connections between historic magical texts and modern magical practice found in online contexts. [The manuscript sounds fascinating, but I felt the presentation was more in the mode of “look at all this weird medieval stuff”.]

“If you don’t learn alchemy, you’ll learn eloquence”: The Golden Slivers by Ibn Arfa’ Ra’s Nicholas G. Harris, Univ. of Pennsylvania

This is a lengthy poetry collection that was considered both an example of poetic excellence as well as a collection of alchemical wisdom. 43 odes, successively using every letter of the Arabic alphabet as a rhyme letter. The meter is formal, one typically used for epics. Alchemical poetry was an established poetic genre, crossing multiple themes and forms. Commentaries and expansions on the work speak to its reception, and a repeated theme is that even if you fail to learn alchemy from the poem, you will definitely learn eloquence and poetry. In the 14th century, the works of al-Jildaki created a “bottleneck” in the Arabic alchemical tradition, whereby most writing subsequent to him is based on his work., including his commentaries on earlier works such as the one considered here, which Jildaki praised highly. Currently a critical edition of this text is being prepared and will be available soon. We conclude with some questions about the author of the work. He seems to have been mentioned and praised by a number of contemporaries as a preacher and Quranic expert, but his poetic works seem to be mentioned only after his death. (?) But the early 15th century historian Ibn Khaldun, known for his anti-occult opinions, muddies the waters by deriding Ibn Arfa’ Ra’s as an alchemist, while praising him under another name for his religious scholarship, leading to theories that they were two different people.

Kāshifī’s Qasimian Secrets: The Safavid Imperialization of a Timurid Manual of Magic Matthew Melvin-Koushki

We’re concerned here with two of the “blockbusters” of the Islamic magical world in the 15-1th century. With a brief digression on modern political magic movements to bind and block the actions of certain contemporary figures, we come to the topic of what “political magic” means in a medieval context. For example a spell “to remove any ruler you wish.” You inscribe a verse on one side of an object, a picture of the target on the other side, then bury it. But the verse is oddly non-Quranic but is rather anti-Trinitarian in form, using the rejection of Christian theology as the medium of rejecting the ruler. In the relevant historic period, Islamic sovereigns were seeing a unified way to control the world, while scholars sought means for controlling the sovereigns. At the same time, Western cultures turned to the task of rooting out and eliminating occult forces in politics, in contrast to a more aligned east/west approach in previous eras. Another distinction is the shift to printed occult treatises in the west, whereas the Islamic world viewed manuscript as an essential aspect of the social role of books. [A slide lists eight titles which were “blockbusters” of the Islamic magical literary world.] The texts considered here concern numerology and lettrisim (the alphabetic equivalent of numerology). These texts transcended conflicts between Islamic sects, being written by Sufi Sunni authors, but used by Shi’a rulers as the basis for imperial political occultism. [I think we’re going to get more details of Islamic historical political conflict than I’ll be able to follow.] The political nature of these texts include spells to control and influence rulers, controlling the emotions and reactions of kings, and elevating the reputation and influence of the practitioner within the political sphere, with an expectation that the practitioner will be a courtier or member of the bureaucracy.

Major category: 
Conventions
Saturday, May 12, 2018 - 08:15

Towards a Medieval Transgender Studies

Sponsor: Society for Medieval Feminist Scholarship (SMFS)

Organizer: M. W. Bychowski, Case Western Reserve Univ.

Presider: Micah Goodrich, Univ. of Connecticut

That Detestable, Unmentionable, and Ignominious Vice: Trans Women and Sex Work in Cross-Cultural and Cross-Temporal Perspectives Alina Boyden, Univ. of Wisconsin–Madison

The paper will be centering around the case of John Rykener (which the speaker explicitly notes she doesn’t feel the need to review for this audience - but for my readers who may need background try this). The historic examples will be compared with modern anthropological studies of groups like Hijras in India, with a consideration of how self-identity may shift within a stable group, either creating or erasing particular concepts of gender identity. Consider viewing gender identity as a community of practice rather than a community of self-identity. As Hijras shift to identifying as trans women, does that reflect a different identity or simply a different framing a stable identity? If we look for self-identification as “trans women” in history, we look in vain, but if we look for individuals or groups that share a community of practice with modern trans women, then the search is more fruitful. Is this a valid approach? John/Eleanor Rykener shares a number of “practices” with certain modern communities of trans women, such as the self-selection of a relatively unusual name of high status. Rykener lived as a woman for at least a portion of the time and worked in a profession (embroiderer) that is strongly female-identified, in addition to being a sex worker. From Rykener’s court record we can interpret that she embodied other aspects of female behavior than these. But in contrast to modern communities of trans women, Rykener expressed other differences, such as bisexuality. [Note: the paper was presented very rapidly, so I wasn’t able to note down many of the details.]

Trans Knights, Then and Now Ced Block, Independent Scholar

A pop culture look at the representation of transgender knights in medieval and pseudo-medieval contexts. It is only the beginnings of an exploration of the topic. Criteria for including modern stories: must have trans-coded character, “knightly” or more broadly “good-aligned melee fighter”, widely available in American media primarily comics but including video games. Texts include the medieval Le Roman de Silence and Yde et Olive and two modern texts Rat Queens (graphic novel) and Dragon Age Inquisition (game). These characters share the properties of being supremely competent fighters, over-compensation of gender in terms both of performance of gender and of the strongly gendered reaction of other characters to the knight, most of the stories deal with a magical transition, whether of physiological sex (as for Yde) or of gendered physical attributes (as for Silence). This last distracts away from a generally accessible performance of gender to a focus on an impossible standard of physical transformation. The characters also mostly have an anxiety around sexuality and sexual performance, even in a context (Dragon Age) where variety of sexual preference itself is taken for granted. Transgressive elements that are maintained through out the four texts include a joy in living a trans life and choosing one’s own path. So what’s the connection of knighthood? Is it because of being the epitome of masculinity? Only for the trans-masculine characters, whereas in modern pop culture it’s more common for the trans knights to be women. What about knighthood as a high standard of social norms? In this context successful performance of knighthood validates trans identity as a positive non-threatening contribution to the social order. Future directions: want to expand to images of Silence and Yde and add more secondary sources.

Radical Pedagogy and New Medievalisms: Sylvia Rivera, Marsha P. Johnson, and the Medieval Imaginary Nicholas Hoffman, Ohio State Univ.; J* E*, Ohio State Univ.

[Note: one of the presenters has requested that I not include their name.] The paper focuses on two modern transgender activists in the context of a hagiographic approach. Both women were activists in and after the Stonewall riots, moving on from Stonewall to further trans-related activism. Both have been celebrated by the culture in ways reminiscent of a medieval approach to sainthood. Both women were renowned for the material as well as psychological support given to their communities. Johnson was described in her lifetime in the language of hagiography, drawing from the concepts a variety of religious traditions. Johnson participated in public religious practices, in several different traditions (both Christian and non-Christian). Often she participated in ecstatic performance which was treated as mental illness, resulting in involuntary treatments. Rivera participated in a synthetic liturgy drawing from Santeria and Catholic traditions, with rituals often focused on the everyday protective needs of trans women. The way that iconic saint-like figures strongly echoes a medieval dynamic of folk veneration, as contrasted with the formal liturgy of Catholic hagiography. In summary, the paper calls for using an understanding of a medievalist approach to life narratives as a framework for understanding medievalism in the modern world. As contrasted, for example, with the pop culture framing of medievalism as violent primativism (as in Game of Thrones) that contributes to reactionary and fascist understandings of the past.

The Future of Medieval Transgender Studies M. W. Bychowski

The story of the Loathly Lady (from the Wife of Bath’s tale) provides an allegory for the future of transgender studies: will the relationship between trans studies and the academy go for the loathly or lovely lady, for begrudging truth or superficial entertainment? Must transgender studies be “un-transed” in order to be included in medieval studies? How are transgender studies affected by being primarily filtered through cis researchers? How is the topic affected by the tension between homosexual and transgender readings of the same historical data? A call to action for trans researchers to identify trans readings and trans understandings of the past that may be overlooked or outright denied and erased by cisgender scholars. In support of this, cis members of the academy must support the presence, agency, and security of their trans compatriots. We must embrace multiplicity and diversity because just as there is no one way to be trans in the presence, we must accept that there was no one way to be trans in the past.

Major category: 
Conventions
Saturday, May 12, 2018 - 07:00

Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast - Episode 53 (previously 22b) - Interview with Jeannelle M. Ferreira - Transcript

(Originally aired 2018/05/12 - listen here)

Heather Rose Jones: Today, The Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast is excited to host Jeannelle M. Ferreira. Now, you have to know that I'm enormous fan of Regency romances, I think there's only one of Georgette Heyer's books so far that I've failed to track down and buy, and the genre was one of the major inspirations for my own Alpennia series. So, when a friend on Twitter posted a link to Jeannelle's new book, The Covert Captain: Or, a Marriage of Equals, I was on it as fast as the proverbial duck on a junebug. And even before I'd got my hands on the book, I'd signed her up to be a guest on this podcast. Welcome, Jeannelle.

Jeannelle M. Ferreira: Thank you. I'm so excited to be here, this is my first podcast. [laughing]

H: Why don't we begin with you giving a synopsis of the book and talking a little bit about how you came to write it.

J: Okay. The Covert Captain takes place in 1822 when the Napoleonic wars are good and over, and everyone's wondering what to do with their lives. Captain Nathaniel Fleming is a guest at his Major's country house and there he meets the Major's sister, Harriet. So he's got the background of long friendship with the Major that he shared many campaigns with, and he meets this new person. Harriet is 28 and is not really keen on male guests and has some secrets of her own, and some fun hobbies. And so the book is… I would say the first half is Harriet and Captain Nathaniel's romance and then spoiler! The second half of the book is that Nathaniel is actually Nora. Nora has managed to hide her gender through campaign, which is actually pretty plausible… more plausible than you'd think. They fall in love, a big secret is revealed, they do get a happily ever after because it's a Regency romance and that's important.

H: Yes, truth in advertising as it were.

J: Yes, I wrote the book, because at the time I started writing it, which is not the time it was published, there wasn't a lot of female-female historical romance and I just really wanted to read it, so I wrote it.

H: That's how so many books get started. [Jeannelle laughs] Why the Regency in particular?

J: I love Georgette Heyer. I had a very convalescent sort of childhood and early young adulthood, and I read lots and lots of books. I was essentially raised by 19th century England for good or ill. So, I got through all of those. Then also, what's being written as far as het Regency romance, there wasn't any of me. And I didn't get these swashbuckles and these cotillions. I wanted something that my wife and I could read. Yeah, I know the Regency is just a favorite because they're such confections. They're such confections, I wanted one, too.

H: Yep. I was poking around in your Amazon and Goodreads listing and this is not your first book. I turned up two other items that were listed there. One is A Verse from Babylon, which is set in a Jewish community in Lithuania in World War II. That one looks like it has some queer content as well.

J: It really does. I can't avoid queer content, it always turns up when I write. It is the story of the Repertory Theatre Company of the Vilna ghetto during the Holocaust. It is the thing that I have spent the most research time on because these people are not super-fictional. They're fictionalized but they're based on real people and they weren't around to tell their own stories because of course they were murdered. I went to Lithuania when I was younger and did a lot of research there. One of my degrees is actually in Near Eastern and Judaic Studies. The book was partly creating the ability for me to act as a psychopomp for some of these people whose stories were never resolved and so in my mind weren't at peace, although that's just me being silly. And partly, I had this degree and I might as well go flex it. [laughs]

H: We should probably make sure that our listeners know that that one, given the setting, is not a happy ending. [chuckles]

J: No. People are still surprised by that, though. And my wife was actually mortally offended, because we were dating when I wrote it, and she read the first draft and she said, "Everybody dies in this book!" And I said, "But I said that in the introduction. Rocks fall, everybody dies." [laughs] Not rocks, Nazis, but say…

H: Yeah. I picked up from your Twitter feed that you are Jewish yourself, that you have this background.

J: I am. Used to be super Jewy and then I found out that I like girls and pants pretty much at the same time in my life in high school. I knew there was something a little bit different about me and I wasn't quite happy with my life the way it was. And then in high school it was pointed out to me that—and this was in the early 90s, so we've come a long way even since then—but it was pointed out to me that you could like girls. And I got very excited and I've had a girlfriend ever since [laughter]. And I like wearing jeans and I like praying in public. So, I'm a much happier person. There's a Jewish expression, 'to be on the derekh,' which means to be on the path. It's used in the sense mostly of religious orthodoxy, but I like to say that I am sort of balancing on an odd little derekh of my own because now I have a wife and a child and a career. It both is and isn't the proper life and the life I had imagined but it is exactly my life and I'm very pleased with it.

H: The other story that I turned up, it looks like it's maybe a short story, a novelette called Dramatis Personae?

J:  It is, it's a novelette. 'Novelette' is the word that the cool kids are using now and I really like it, it used to just be a novella. It is about two mask makers who live in a city that is sort of Chicago and sort of out-of-all Chicago, it's in slightly to the right or left. It's my first foray into speculative fiction because these people make masks, they wear masks. So I was also trying to play a lot with the concept of bodies and gender and who we love, and it was also just a chance for me to get some historical nerdery and across a bunch of eras. One of the mask makers is originally from Elizabethan England and one is from ancient Egypt. It's definitely escapist and I had a great time writing it.

H: When researching historically-set fiction, what are some of the biggest challenges that you found? Let's get back to The Covert Captain. I mean, obviously, anybody writing Regency romances can pick up a lot of the superficial history just from reading the genre, but where did you go to really ground your story in the history for this particular story?

J: For this particular story, I definitely wanted to look at all the places where queer, gay, lesbian, and bisexual people weren't. Transgender is tricky too because everybody sort of was living their own life and sexual mores were very different, and all these people are dead and so you don't want to assign anybody an identity they may not have had, which comes up with Fleming who dresses the man and has a male career. But I think she would think of herself as a lesbian, she's into the girls. So I researched Molly houses and different aspects of the queer community around St James's Park in England—which coincidentally is also near where all the Jewish people lived. In Aldgate. So, you had all these interesting social elements in one place, and I wish I had written down better cited sources but one of them is… The National Trust in the UK has a whole website on queer history and they cite their sources unlike me—bad scholar! There are pages and pages about people's identity and Molly houses and the Ladies of Llangollen. Yes, I had to look up how to say that. I wasn't going to do a podcast with a linguistics expert [Heather laughs] and not say Llangollen properly. It's all there in the ways that we're not there, and I'm actually going to use a weird example. Not weird. I'm going to use an example from my childhood: one of the most English books of all time, Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild. There are two tutors in this book, Dr. Jakes and Dr. Smith, and they are both women. And they live together as boarders in a large house in the Cromwell road. It took me until I was about nine having owned this copy and love it to death of this book since I was about four... "Oh, Dr. Jakes and Dr. Smith! I get— Oh. Oh." And so, this was the first time I learned to pick us out of the text even if it wasn't explicitly stated. And that's sort of a direct line for me to Anne Lister, and thankfully Anne Lister's diary has just semi-recently come out translated so I didn't have to learn ancient Greek. So, you got Anne Lister who hung out with the Ladies of Llangollen, which was another reason that it was a Regency. That if I do a second book, they're totally all going to cameo at the most interesting dinner party of all time.

H: Yeah, but it would have to be in Llangollen because they never left. You know?

J: It's true. But they had dogs! There was companionship. I'll get them there somehow.

H: Yeah.

J: I also did a lot of research on early medicine, particularly what was effective about early medicine which was so often in the purview of women essentially, or biology. But there are a lot of tinctures and mixtures and selves and ointments that came directly from women's kitchens but actually work quite well. So for that, I did some research basically in NIH and The Mütter Museum in Philadelphia... and just poked around what people did to feel better and survive in areas where, you know? There were nasty things in the dirt and there were nasty smells in the air that were making you sick, obviously. [laughing]

H: Speaking of medicine, one of the things I really liked how you handled in The Covert Captain—essentially we'll call it PTSD—was the way that the returning soldiers were dealing with the horrors of the war and the things that they had had to do, and the way it would hang over your life and affect your relationships.

J: It's true. They called it nostalgia around the Crimean War. I don't know if they had a name for it when they came back from the Napoleonic Wars but they knew that something was going on. But the thing is, I don't think they cared, except I think that it was very much a badge of manhood as it was probably up through World War One, to just get over yourself and get on. But that didn't really lead to functional relationships, and it led to a lot of drinking and a lot of semi-honourably shooting oneself. I wanted to address it because as confectionary as Regency romances are, you can't bring someone back from a war and have them functionally fall in love with someone. There are a ton of diaries from Waterloo, and I think the ones I looked at most were Paget, who lost his leg. The one who said, "Oh my god, sir, I've lost my leg." And his superior looked across at him and said, "Oh my god, sir, so you have!" Which is sort of the attitude to war injuries in a nutshell that you find in that time period.

H: Yeah.

J: He came home with that leg and I found out that some of his family too were missing hands, and they got on with it. But I was really intrigued by what you bring back from the war.

H:  Yeah. And it's tricky to portray that sort of thing, both in historical context where the modern reader can recognize it and engage with it, but where you aren't bringing those modern attitudes into the story itself. And that leads nicely into the portrayal of sexuality. What were your challenges in creating these characters in a way that both connects with the modern reader and is true to their own time?

J: I really tried hard not to give anybody an identity that I would understand but they wouldn't. Farah Mendelssohn's regency is actually great at this. You have a lot of really intense female friendships because social interaction was so stratified by binary gender at the time. So nobody really thought weirdly of you if you were a female-bodied person kissing your female-bodied friend unless you were married in which case, do it in your boudoir or just not at the ball. I think the biggest challenge was not using terminology or attitudes that I know are mine from my own gender and sexuality research, and also just making it okay that Fleming gets the ladies. Like, Captain Fleming has a girl in every port until she meets Harry and settles down. And I think the tactic I went with was just don't have anybody feel that it's remarkable that this person always has somebody ‘cause they're talented and cute and they're on a horse. [Heather laughs] Horses count for a lot.

H: They do.

J: And with Harry—Harriet—one of my friends came up with this amazing phrase and she said, "I really liked that you pointed out, really subtly, that it wasn't Harry's first time on the merry-go-round. She said it in-print, "It's m a r y mary-go-round." [Heather laughs] And I'm like, "A, you're a sick person and B, that's hilarious." [laughs]

H: I really liked that point. I don't think we're giving away any spoilers to say that of course the two characters end up in a sexual relationship, but there was a point early on where I'm thinking, "Where did Harry learn how to do this?" And then you answered the question, and that really was a nice point.

J: Yeah. People are getting up to stuff all the time. In my first book, people were like, "People are having sex during the Holocaust?" And I'm like, "Well, if I was under duress, I would have a lot of sex." You know? [laughs] It's part escapism and part human nature. And so you've got a soldier who comes back from the war in The Covert Captain who literally can't sleep at night and has a lot of trouble being in her own skin. And as soon as she finds somebody to share a space comfortably with, I think that she is going to try to make that connection.

H: —and then deal with the consequences.

J: Yes, big consequences but they do get dealt with.

H: Have you always been interested in history and historical research? Well, given you mentioned what your academic research was, and so I guess the answer is yes, but talk about your background and just being a history fanatic.

J: Like I said, I was raised by 19th century England and then—whenever you read The Secret Garden, I became aware of the Raj and then sort of had to delve into… You read The Children of Green Knowe and where does Ping come from? Ping is a refugee child. Where do the attitudes about Ping come from and where do Frances Hodgson Burnett's attitudes about the Raj come from? So my childhood reading became my high school and college deep dive into British Empire and colonialism and how everybody was related to everybody over many continents. Then I sort of became passionately interested in the fact that every war is a knock-on from some white guy's decisions in the last war. I just could not put the history down. I ended up with a degree in Near Eastern and Judaic Studies pretty much up through the creation of modern Israel. Then I sort of tailed off. But also, one of my degrees is in creative writing. I have many superfluous degrees, I'm sorry.

H: [laughs] Well you're talking to somebody who got a bachelor's in zoology and then a PhD in linguistics, so I can understand the scattershot thing.

J: Yeah. And then I was interested in medicine for a hot second there until I realized that my frail physical encasing couldn't handle the rigors. So, history of medicine is also a big deal for me. But no, I just never stopped reading. And the more you read historical fiction, for me, the more I want to understand the underpinnings and the motivations.

H: Yeah. I mean for the Regency setting, there's that whole issue of why is it such a big draw for fiction? What is it about the Regency? And in part, it's several very impressive authors who have popularized it. But what is it about that historic nexus that makes it such a rich setting for stories? And of course that's true of many other times and places as well.

J: For me, I think the Regency is so great because it really depends what you love. You have slightly close to modern cuisine at your parties, you have recognizable clothing it still looks fancy and refined, and you have the beginnings of modern plumbing. [Heather laughs] It's why I think there aren't that many romances—there are some—there aren't that many romances set around the time of the Norman Conquest because—

H: Okay, that's not true because there's an entire genre of Norman-Saxon historic romances, just because of the culture clash thing. [laughs]

J: I hadn't thought of that, I was totally down with the—well, they had toothpicks, but I'm not sure what else they had. [laughter] I was like, "I don't know whether I want to kiss someone in Norman England." So yeah, I think the Regency is the first time it can all come together and literally be tied with a velvet bow. And I think we just can't get enough of that. Plus horses.

H: [laughs] Yeah. I have to say that when I think about writing in lesbian historical romances, I always want to end up with one of the women in a riding habit because…horses, riding habits. There's something about riding habits that is just so incredibly sexy, I have to say.

J: It's so true. And the swords! You know this, you literally have a swordswoman character. And what's better than that? You're going to jump off this horse and defend me with this skill that you learned at great personal physical expense, and it's going to look hot. [Heather laughs] That was slightly shallow. [laughs]

H: We both write historical romance, I think that's the definition of shallow in some ways but hey. So, how about some upcoming projects that you want to let the listeners know about? I hear a rumor that you might be writing in the Regency again.

J: It is true, I am working on the sequel. It is set in 1824 so, Harriet and Nora have been married for a minute. Harriet is now the Lady of Fleming slightly dilapidating manor in Yorkshire which is based on Ridley Castle, which looks like a fascinating pile of stone by the way. They have some changes in their life and right now, they're having their Burns supper and there are some interesting guests at this Burns supper. And I particularly wanted to approach, in the sequel, someone eccentric enough by the standards of those times to be in a relationship with a Jewish woman. And I wanted to address in the sequel some of the realities, but also the fun and pleasant and lovely parts of being a Jewish person in Regency England because we were there, not in great number but we were. I'm also working on a short story about Kit Marlowe where Kit Marlowe just might be a lesbian. Because Kit Marlowe is one of the most irresistible figures in the historic record and basically, the fiction writes itself.

H: How does that work for Kit Marlowe because he was notoriously interested in boys?

J: It's true. This is why the short story is not finished. I don't want to do any discredit to the dashing Kit of the historical record. I haven't quite figured out how to work it but it's one of the things I have in the drawer. Did I say the thing about the World War One flying ace?

H: No, you never mentioned that.

J: These are all short stories. I never learned to write a proper transition, so I work a lot in short stories. I'm working on it though. I want to write a story if I can plausibly get them recruited into the army of a World War One flying ace. And I also want to do lesbian pirates because I feel like lesbian pirates is a high-water benchmark to which I want to aspire as an adult writer.

H: Okay, there's certainly a flourishing sub-genre of lesbian pirates. So Jeannelle, if your fans and readers wanted to find you on social media, where should they look?

J: I'm on Twitter and WordPress at the same handle, @JeannelleWrites. It's @JeannelleWrites on Twitter and jeannellewrites.wordpress.com.

H: Okay, Facebook?

J: I don't have a Facebook author page yet because as you can tell from my backlist, I took several years off to have a kid and parent that kid. So the explosion of social media is still a surprise to me, but I'm working on it [laughs].

H: I noticed from your previous publications that it looks like they're a little bit obscure to find currently.

J: Currently, yes. I'm working on rights management and Kindle editions, and again all the sorts of things that happened in the seven to 10 years I wasn't writing that were kind of a surprise.

H: Okay. Keep us updated when those are more easily accessible for people to track down.

J: Oh, totally. Working on it.

H: I'll add links to all these social media and all of the books that got mentioned in the show to the show notes. Thank you again for joining us at The Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast.

J: Thank you!

Show Notes

A series of interviews with authors of historically-based fiction featuring queer women.

In this episode we talk about:

Links to the Lesbian Historic Motif Project Online

Links to Heather Online

Links to Jeannelle M. Ferreira Online

Major category: 
LHMP
Friday, May 11, 2018 - 13:53

Dress and Textiles III: New Analyses of Old Evidence

Sponsor: DISTAFF (Discussion, Interpretation, and Study of Textile Arts, Fabrics, and Fashion)

Organizer: Robin Netherton, DISTAFF

Presider: Robin Netherton

Scarlet Blue: Elite versus Peasantish Clothing in Nordic Ballads Sandra B. Straubhaar, Univ. of Texas–Austin

Not talking about sagas here but sung ballads, usually used for dancing. They often have connections to rhymed metrical romances. Today’s example is the ballad about Ramund the Young. Ramund is a hero of lowly origins. Before he can go out on an adventure, he must gain a set of clothing from a female figure (mother, girlfriend, queen, etc.). His clothes are depicted as ridiculously large. The general outline of his adventures is: Ramund comes form the countryside to court in “peasantish clothing” and bust be properly outfitted to go out and battle giants or trolls. There are dozens of variants of the Ramund ballad. We now get a catalog and classification of the ballad variants. [We get a Danish rock band illustration of one stanza.] The opening motif is that Ramund must be given better clothes than he has to beome a better man. He is offered rough clothes of “blue bast and leather” and rejects them and asks for better, then he’s offered better clothes (silk and samite). The various sets of clothing are desribed in terms of material and color, though evidently not cut/type. Collating the descriptions, we seem to get the impression that peasants wear coarse blue clothing, while nobles wear scarlet/red. But looking at a variant, “blue” (from “blågarn” blue yarn) may be an adaptation of “blorgarn” meaning “bast yarn” that is, a coarse plant fiber. Other versions specify the poor clothing as “ugly weaving” made of nettles and root fibers, compared to the better clothing of scarlet. Another specifies nettle cloth which is rejected in favor of the king’s daughter making him clothing of silk. In one version, the “scarlet” cloth is expanded to “scarlet red”, for “scarlet” comes in a number of different colors, including blue. (Scarlet blue occurs in other unrelated ballads as a noble fabric.) We also get “scarlet green” for a cloak. And “scarlet white” for a page’s or servant’s clothing. But in general, a combination of scarlet green and scarlet red indicates rich clothing (or maybe they just provide useful rhymes). Or you can add in also scarlet blue with yet another rhyme option. Behind all this, of course, is the origin of “scarlet” as a type of luxury fabric, not a color. The word as used in the Scandinavian languages may have more than one origin, either from Arabic siklat (for a decorated fabric) or for OHG scarlachen for a shaved/shorn fabric. Ramund’s final acquisition after the main clothes are sorted out is appropriate trousers, where he needs fifty ells or more of cloth to cover his frame. So how much information on medieval clothing cut can be retrieved from these ballads? Very little, though possibly some information on color symbolism.

Hemp and Hemp Cloth in the Medieval Rus Lands Heidi Sherman, Univ. of Wisconsin–Green Bay

This speaker was not able to attend due to her department getting a major state award.

The Tree of Jesse and the Royal Adulterers: An Examination of Two Fourteenth-Century German Appliqued Hangings Lisa Evans, Independent Scholar

Late 14th c appliquéd tapestry of the Tree of Jesse, similar to a tapestry in the V&A similar in technique but depicting Tristan. This paper will compare the two to determine if they are connected in origin. Appliqué is well suited to large public display textiles as the labor is much less than for embroidery. The tree of Jesse motif shows the genealogy of Christ depicted as a literal “family tree” springing from the sleeping figure of Jesse. There is a large central rectangle in deep blue with the tree motif itself surrounded by a border in red with floral motifs. The central panel is a single piece of fabric while the border is crudely pieced of multiple pieces. The designs are of multiple colors of wool couched down with thin strips of gilded leather and are lightly padded. The human figures show no signs of embroidered facial features. Among the floral motifs filling in the background there are also captions in blackletter, also done with appliqué. Many of the figures have gold crowns also made of gilt leather. The depicted prophets wear clothing contemporary to the work. The border has enthroned kings associated with the letter S and unicorn head motifs. Except for a section of wear that may represent a fold, the work is in excellent condition and the colors are little faced. The V&A Tristan hanging is cut down from its original size (maybe a quarter of the original size). Despite many stylistic similarities, the author argues that the two works are only coincidentally similar and unrelated. The human figures are shown in arcades, with the scenes distinguished by different color background fabrics. The materials are similar to the Jesse piece (wool with appliqué done using gilded leather strips). The stitching, however, is not quite as fine. The clothing is in a different style, being more fitted. The work is more damaged than the Jesse piece, being faded and worn. Unlike the Jesse piece, very little is known about the Tristan piece due to its ownership history. The previous owner, Franz Bock, was an antiquarian collector rather than a conservator and notorious for modifying or separating pieces for distribution or display. The Tristan piece may have had a twin in different materials but a similar technique and with similar layout, that was described in the 1930s but is now lost.

Teletta: Discovering the Origins of This Late Renaissance Italian Textile Dawn A. Maneval, Independent Scholar

”Teletta” is a type of cloth of gold. This paper is intended to identify the structure and origin of textiles described with this term. Due to trade, silk textiles were often known by “international” names that don’t always indicate origin clearly. Various types of records may provide evidence: account books, inventories, guild regulations. Dictionaries define teletta as a cloth woven primarily with gold or silver. Textile scholarship defines it as a tabby weave of silk with pattern wefts of metal threads. But its unclear how the scholars came up with this definition. Etymologically, the word is a diminutive of “tela”. But “tela” is a general term for cloth. It can mean a tabby weave, but has other meanings. It can mean a lightweight silk, a drawn-wife silk, or a type of a griccia velvet (referring to a type of design). A griccia velvets were extreme luxury fabrics associated with the wealthy and powerful. A griccia refers to an asymmetric design in the weave. There was no symmetric repetition therefore they were more laborious to create. Usually created as a figured or voided velvet. Surviving examples of these have pile and a taffeta (tabby) ground in the “voided” areas. These velvets were also enriched with metal threads (metal lamina spun around a silk core). The metal thread could either be used in loops among the pile, or as brocading wefts. The paper now analyzes how the historical record for the use of the word teletta aligns with the various proposed features/definitions in the academic definition. This analysis eliminates the proposed “ground of the a griccia velvet” definition as not matching the word’s use. The definition as a “lightweight silk”. But again, this does not align with the term’s use. Another possible definition is “cloth using drawn-wire for cloth of gold. This technique can be used in combination with other techniques such as loops and brocading and pile. If teletta refers only to the use of drawn wire in a silk fabric, then it does align with the uses of the word in historic sources. The problem is that we don’t have enough clear correspondences of surviving items and a contemporary description of the fabric as teletta that could confirm the conclusion.

Major category: 
Conventions

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