The image of Spanish convent life in the age of colonial expansion often overlooks the social consequences of convents being the sole alternative to marriage for women of good birth and good reputation. That meant that a lot of the nuns were educated, sophisticated, and relatively lacking in religious vocation. Convent rules tried to find a middle gound between the ideals of exclusive devotion to God and the recognition that they were dealing with a lot of young women who were lonely and desperate for affection. While the dynamics discussed in this chapter are inspired by a consideration of lesbian desire in convents, a great deal of the material is less about sex and more about trying to manage that sort of hot-house emotional environment.
Velasco, Sherry. 2011. Lesbians in Early Modern Spain. Vanderbilt University Press, Nashville. ISBN 978-0-8265-1750-0
A study of the evidence and social context for women who loved women in early modern Spain, covering generally the 16-17th centuries and including some material from colonial Spanish America.
Chapter 5: Special Friendships in the Convent
[The following is duplicated from the associated blog. I'm trying to standardize the organization of associated content.]
The image of Spanish convent life in the age of colonial expansion often overlooks the social consequences of convents being the sole alternative to marriage for women of good birth and good reputation. That meant that a lot of the nuns were educated, sophisticated, and relatively lacking in religious vocation. Convent rules tried to find a middle gound between the ideals of exclusive devotion to God and the recognition that they were dealing with a lot of young women who were lonely and desperate for affection. While the dynamics discussed in this chapter are inspired by a consideration of lesbian desire in convents, a great deal of the material is less about sex and more about trying to manage that sort of hot-house emotional environment.
# # #
Concerns about same-sex relations in convents date back at least to the time of Saint Augustine in the 5th century. Those concerns covered even trivial actions like hand-holding and terms of endearment, showing that some of the concern was for the particularity of the friendship, not specifically the possibility of sex. Activities that were a cause for concern could be discouraged with corporal punishment as well as lesser penances.
Co-sleeping was a special concern, and care was taken that two women would not have private sleeping arrangements together. Sleeping arrangements in convents might involve single-person cells or communal dormitories, generally with rules against two people having privacy together. The forbidden activities that were specified included “talking together late at night” and thus breaking the rule of silence.
The rules against developing “special friendships” often mentioned a purpose of preserving harmony in the convent and avoiding favoritism. These concerns were not limited to same-sex interactions--there were similar concerns about relations between the nuns and the priests that attended to the spiritual needs of the institution, or visiting male relatives--but of course the demongraphics made female same-sex interactions the greatest temptation.
Visiting priests were sometimes instructed, in essence, to spy on the prioress to ensure that she herself didn’t have favorites (since she was supposed to prevent it in others). There’s an acknowledgement that the prioress may reasonably spend more attention on nuns “who are more discreet and intelligent” and thus might be assisting in administrative duties. In addition to the cautions and rules, there are regular loopholes, such as this type, that created the potential for a variety of approaches and responses. The visiting priests were also advised not to make a big deal out of unimportant behavioral infractions, lest the convent’s reputation be damaged. But visiting priests were not always on the enforcement side, witness an 1819 Inquestion investigation of a (male) confessor who urged the nuns in his care to engage in same-sex activity for his gratification.
Saint Teresa of Avila, in her instructions for convents, laid out the potential consequences of allowing particular friendships. They could cause jealousy between nuns, but also interfered with focusing one’s love on God. Even as instructions like this provided lists of detailed prohibiltions, they normalized the expectation that “particular friendships” woud occur in ordinary circumstances. And there was a contradictory expectation that nuns should show love and affection for each other--just not too much, and not too specifically.
Saint Boniface listed seven potential signs of forbidden carnal love between nuns. (Note that “carnal” is contrasted with “spiritual” and doesn’t necessarily imply “sexual”.) 1: Conversation that includes jokes and laughter, 2: looks of affection and accompanying each other everywhere, 3: experiencing worry and anxiety, 4: jealousy, 5: anger between the two women when they fight, 6: exchanging gifts and favors, 7: defending each other or covering up for each other.
Why was the primary focus on non-sexual behaviors? Were sexual activities considered less important, or was there concern that if sex were specifically mentioned it would “give women ideas”? Recall that lesbianism was called peccatum mutum “the silent sin” because it often was not mentioned in specific terms.
These concerns about favoritism played out in Saint Teresa’s own life and her special friendships with two protegés who laid claim to continuing her legacy. The description of Teresa’s relationship with Ana de San Bartolomé reads like a template for forbidden “particular friendships”. They shared a cell, talked together regularly, and were inseparable. After Teresa’s death, Ana had other particular friendships with nuns, resulting in jealousy and protestations of exclusive love, as recorded in her letters. Letters are a fertile ground for data on the actual emotional relationships between nuns that express particular love and longing and a desire for affirmation. Convent records of the 17th century record numerous investigations of passionate friendships, all of which are recorded as having successful reform as a conclusion, often with supernatural elements in how the issue was discovered.
The text digresses somewhat curiously into a Chilean folktale that is clearly based on the medieval tale of Yde and Olive. A woman takes on male disguise to escape her father’s incestuous advances, had adventures, and eventually marries a princess who is delighted to discover that her “husband” is actually a woman. When this secret is betrayed and they are near discovery, the disguised woman is granted a miraculous sex-change. The connection with the rest of the chapter is that, like one of the convent investigations, there is a magical flying crucifix involved. [I included the reference here to keep track of the Yde & Olive variant.]
Not all same-sex relations in convents were consensual. An early 18th century Colombian nun recourts unwanted sexual advances from other nuns and becoming a cause of jealousy between other women.
There is a discussion of theatrical performances in convents, including nuns performing as actors. This was not considered a sin if done only for entertainment. Topics of the plays could include passionate friendships between nuns, as well as similar allegorical themes. This is another indication of the normalization of these relationships.
Another source of potential concern, espeically in Spanish colonial areas, was relations between (upper class) nuns and the lay serving women who lived with them. This pattern seems to have been less prevalent in Spain itself.

Two days at once! I had the podcast blog to post yesterday, so here you get caught up on both Friday and Saturday at the con. I've fallen in with a regular breakfast group at the hotel (some of them even came to my historic fantasy panel, though maybe they would have anyway), so that initial sense of disconnection is falling away. The first Friday panel I wanted to attend was at noon so I spent the first couple hours of the day participating in the business meeting. I have nothing but admiration for folks who dedicate much of their worldcon mornings to the business meetings--I spent a fair amount of time there last year to support various of the Hugo nomination reform initiatives, but it's hard to choose it over other programming. As it was, this time, I had to choose between staying long enough to be there to support ratification of the new YA book award, or leaving in time to get in line for the "Female Friendship in Fiction" panel. I stayed (and we ratified) and then found the panel had maxed out, so I hung around to slip in when someone else left. A good panel, though it's hard to sit on your hands when panelists are bemoaning how hard it is to find books that feature friendships between women and you want to stand up and wave your own books around. (I was good. I just subtweeted about it.)
I hung around after the panel to introduce myself to one of the panelists (Navah Wolfe) whom I know from a social media space and who will be on the same flight to Amsterdam tomorrow morning. I wanted to introduce myself to Amal El-Mohtar who was also on the panel and who I've interacted with on Twitter occasionally (and who did the introduction for my Podcastle story), but she was deep in conversation with some other folks and I had to run to my signing. I probably won't get another shot at this con because her short story "Seasons of Glass and Iron" won a Hugo and I imagine she's being overwhelmed by people who want to talk to her.
Anyway, I'd primed the pump sufficiently for my signing session that several friends came to hang out and keep me company, but I also had half a dozen people come by either with books to sign (wow!) or interested in taking one of the "Mazarinette and the Musketeer" chapbooks that I'd brought so I'd have something to sign. So a group of us adjourned to lunch afterward. I figured a sizeable lunch was in order since my later panel rolled directly into the Hugo Award ceremony slot and there's be no time then.
That later panel provides today's photo: ALien Language in Science Fiction featuring (from left to right in the picture) Lawrence M. Schoen (involved with the Klingon Language Institute), David J. Peterson (alien language consultant to Hollywood, including for Game of Thrones, and incidentally a student of mine back in my grad school days which gives us content for some amusing banter on panels--a great guy), Stephen W. Potts (author of academic and critical writing on SFF), me, and Cora Buhlert (German translator and writer of SFF). It was a longer panel slot than most, which gave us scope for a lot of interesting discussion about just how alien a language can be before it takes over the plot, how to handle the question of translation in portraying multi-species linguistic interactions, and some of the dynamics of interacting with television and movie producers as a language consultant. There was a general sense that Hollywood is becoming more interested in and more willing to take languages seriously in portraying SFF-nal societies, though there's always the pressure not to drive away audience attention.
Since the panel slot ran until 7:30 (though it gets out a little earlier) and the Hugo ceremonies were scheduled to begin at 7:30, I'd lost all chance of meeting up to sit with any of my default groups. And though I scanned the bleachers for quite a while looking for a seat, I couldn't find anyone until I'd given up and went off to sit by myself and then ran into Kathryn Sullivan who I'd been chatting with in several contexts over the several previous days. So that was nice. The ceremony was very enjoyable and fortunately this year there wasn't any anxiety that the atmosphere would be hijacked by Puppy hijinx. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't worry about it.)
After the ceremony, I wandered around a bit looking for someone to have a spot of dinner with and found Anna Feruglio Dal Dan was of a similar mind, so I finally enjoyed a bowl of the famous Helsinki "creamy salmon soup" that all the cafes advertise, which just hit the spot. So far, I haven't done any "evening parties" as such. Due to the venue restrictions, all the bid parties and the like are in a large common space in the convention center, which means the noise levels are even worse than a hotel suite would be. And since everyone's spread out across many hotels, there isn't an obvious place to go for a bar-con. The third element is that every evening except this one I've ended up back downtown for dinner, and simply didn't feel like taking the train back to the convention center on the off chance that I might find congenial company. This has been good for my sleep, and I've been having plenty of social time otherwise, so I'm ok about it.
I finally got the hang of getting a long night's sleep Friday night, which contributed to not getting a blog written yesterday morning. (I also didn't want to bump the podcast blog off the front page while everyone back in the states was still asleep.) So I rolled into the convention center just in time to get a good seat for the "Gender and 'Realistic History'" panel, which didn't tell me anything new, but it's nice to hear other people saying the same things I rant about. A chance encounter in the hallway after that panel had me helping track down a program schedule for a local fan/press-person who was attending his first big convention. He treated me to coffee in thanks and we joined Cathering Lundoff who was also enjoying a cup right next to where we got ours, so who knows, she and I may end up in some local article. Then I stood in line to get into "Feminist and Queer Readings of Fantasy Tropes" which was enjoyable although I no longer remember anything specific that was said. After that, my brain kind of went on strike and I decided to just sit with a cup of coffee outside the Fazer Cafe (in the main cross-roads of convention center traffic) and watch people go by.
I had a dinner date set up with (pseudonym =) Praisegod Barebones and daughter, to which I'd added @jennygadget who I hadn't seen since we had lunch together in Berkeley a couple years ago when she was jobhunting. Our initial ideas about restaurants were pre-empted by a sudden violent rainstorm just as we were passing by an Indian restaurant--a fortuitous chance. It is just possible that I have developed the knack for putting together congenial dinner groups because we had just a great conversation that we stayed until closing time, talking about libraries, and schools, and books, and all sorts of things.
And so, now we're here at the last day of the con. I have one more panel to moderate this afternoon, and no doubt the pangs of watching people dash off for flights and trains. My own flight is at 8am tomorrow, and Monday is my LHMP day in any event, so expect the final wrap-up on Tuesday when I'm ensconsed in Deventer, Netherlands enjoying a visit with Irina.
(Image credit: Melanie Marttila, used with permission)
Today the Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast interviews author Catherine Lundoff about her historical and historically-inspired fiction featuring women-loving-women. Catherine also writes some great science fiction and fantasy and has started a new publishing house: Queen of Swords Press. Find out more about her projects in the interview!
* * * Now, with transcript! * * *
Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast Episode 14 (formerly 13b): Interview with Catherine Lundoff - transcript
(Originally aired 2017/08/12 - listen here)
(Transcript commissioned from Jen Zink @Loopdilou who is available for professional podcast transcription work. I am working on adding transcripts of the existing interview shows.)
Heather Rose Jones: Today, the Lesbian Historic Motif Project is talking to one of the talented authors who are writing queer women into historical fiction. Catherine Lundoff writes fantasy and science fiction as well as historic stories and blends of those genres. And she has an alter-ego who focuses on erotica. Welcome, Catherine.
Catherine Lundoff: Hi, Heather. Thanks so much for having me on the podcast.
H: I particularly wanted to talk to you about some of the fiction in your new collection, Out of This World: Queer Speculative Fiction Stories, such as your take on Shakespeare’s fictional sister. But there’s another story I remember very fondly based on the operatic swordswoman Julie D’Aubigny. Why don’t we start there; how do those come out of your historic interests?
C: Well, I have a background in history. It’s one of my BAs, so it’s one of the things I studied when I was in college. And I’ve always been fascinated by historical figures. I’ve also always been fascinated by the kind of people who get written out of history. It’s been something that’s kind of been an ongoing thing. The story that you’re referring to is a story called “M. Le Maupin,” which is actually my first published story, that was part of a magical interlude in which I used to be a bookseller. I had closed up my bookstore and I was attending law school. Law school and I were not sympatico in a way that made me telekinetic and, really, I broke things with my mind. It was a very scary time. My partner at the time, now wife, suggested that I try my hand at writing a bit of fiction. So, I sat down, and I wrote that story, I sent it out the door, and it got accepted. It got accepted for a magazine that no longer exists, unfortunately, called Lesbian Short Fiction. Alicia Austin, who’s a famous fantasy [artist], was, at the time, dating the editor, and she did the front cover based on my story. Which, I gotta tell you, was the coolest thing ever.
H: Yeah, I think they were partners at the time. I remember Lesbian Short Fiction very fondly.
C: Yeah, they were.
H: They bought a story of mine and, unfortunately, it was never published when the magazine folded. We were almost magazine sisters.
C: Almost, almost. One of the things that I got really interested in was looking at how women, in general, but queer women in particular, had presented themselves, had survived, had had adventures, had gone and done things. Alexandre Dumas was the way I maintained my sanity when I was a child living with my family. I read a lot of Walter Scott, I read a lot of Howard Pyle, I read Robin Hood things, but Alexandre Dumas was the guy.
H: And none of them had enough women.
C: None of them had enough women. But Dumas had Milady and Milady, of course, does not come to a particularly good end. I don’t that’s much of a spoiler for your audience. But she’s a fascinating character and she’s actually based on a real person. There was a spy in the Caribbean who was actually doing some of the things Dumas based that character on. There are all these fascinating women who got written out of history. There are the women who were able to disguise themselves as men and go on sailing ships, some of them for years at a time. There were the women who fought in the Napoleonic armies and some of them presented as men, some of them actually came to regard themselves as being male and would be called trans at this point in time. Some of them were, in fact, straight and they were there for their lovers but then they were having such a great time, like Deborah Sampson during the American Revolution, they just stuck around. There are some fascinating things out there. One of the ways I got into discovering some of these women was a book by Jessica Amanda Salmonson, The Encyclopedia of Amazons.
H: Yes.
C: I started there and then a press that no longer exists, unfortunately, called Conari Books, did a whole series of Wild Women. There was Wild Women of the West…
H: Oh yes, I have those.
C: Wild Women of Medieval Times, or… (cross-talk)
H: They’re not very well-cited, but they’re fascinating to read.
C: No, no, but they’re very inspirational. If you’re just looking for, “Wow, I want to do this,” it’s a lot of fun to play with. And the reason I got into, you know. I’ve had a couple of other historical stories that are not in Out of this World, which is the new collection, they will be in a later collection. I’m working on another collection that will be more historical fiction.
H: Oh, good.
C: And I do some other things outside of that. I’ve been doing mysteries, and gothic horror, and a number of other things that play with that. The protagonists aren’t necessarily queer, although you could read my story, “A Splash of Crimson,” which is in an anthology called Respectable Horror that just came out a couple of months ago, as queer because she’s a governess and she’s very obsessed with her dead mistress. It’s a ghost story, but it’s got all that Du Maurier Rebecca-ish theme going on.
H: I was about to mention Du Maurier.
C: Yes. It was just part of the inspiration. One reason I started writing about Judith, Shakespeare’s presumably apocryphal sister, was that I had read Virginia Woolf’s essay, and I was looking at it again and Connie Wilkins, who is a prominent editor in the field, who also edits as Sacchi Green. She does erotica under Sacchi and she does other kinds of fiction under Connie, had asked me to come up with an alternate history story. So, I was looking at Virginia Woolf’s essay that day and it was like, “Ok, so what if this was a real person.” You know, what are some other things that could have happened to her instead of what… Woolf sets her up where she’s basically going to go to the city and because she’s a woman she’s going to fail. It’s like well, “What if she didn’t present herself as a woman?” And I’m also fascinated by Christopher…
H: I was going to say, and it’s irresistible to bring Kit Marlowe in.
C: Yes. Well, Kit Marlowe, for those who many not be as familiar with him as you are, is sort of the great gay playwright of Elizabethan England, and he was, among other things, also a spy. He’s commonly believed to have been assassinated in a tavern in Deptford as part of a connection to some of his spy work. But he was also gay, he was atheist, he ran around with Sir Walter Raleigh and some of the other members of the Elizabethan court who were subsequently disgraced because of their lack of religious beliefs, among other things. And he was a really fascinating character and I had just, I think, finished, right around the same time, I’d finished reading Anthony Burgess’s A Dead Man in Deptford. Which is one of those historical novels that I would probably give an internal organ I wasn’t using to have written. I mean, it’s amazing. The whole thing, he never breaks out of dialect. It’s all in Elizabethan dialect, it’s absolutely gripping. In part because you’re working so hard to read it. But it’s beautifully written, and it’s fascinating, and it brings up a lot of really interesting things about Marlowe. And I went on to read some of the other biographies and so forth afterwards, but Burgess really pulled me in and made him come alive. Once I put it together as Judith Shakespeare – Christopher Marlowe, wacky hijinks ensue! I came up with that particular story which is called “Great Reckonings, Little Rooms.” And it’s from a line that Shakespeare wrote about Marlowe’s assassination. Because the official story about Marlowe’s death was that he was killed over the reckoning, the bar bill, in this tavern in Deptford. One of the things that Shakespeare says at one point in one of the plays, I would have to check this one, which one it was, but he says in one of the plays that, “A rumor kills a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room.” Just a beautiful line. And if you don’t know the history behind it, it’s just kind of, “Oh, that’s interesting.” But that’s actually what he’s referring to, is Marlowe’s assassination because they were colleagues and they were probably, to some extent, friends. Of course, recent scholarship has suggested that Marlowe did, in fact, write some of the plays that are now attributed to Shakespeare. It’s all fascinating.
H: Yes.
C: But I also write Regencies. I have a story called “[Regency] Masquerade” and I’ll be doing another Regency that I’m working on now. I love Regencies. Regencies are fun.
H: Regencies are irresistible somehow.
C: That’s true.
H: There’s just, you know, it’s almost the same as fanfic where there’s this existing world to play in that you don’t have to recreate from scratch.
C: It is true. Yes. If I had to pick my absolute two favorites it would probably be Regencies and Pirates. If I could blend the two I would, but I think its going to consist… stick with Regencies and Pirates. But I’m also working on a… I’ve written one story so far and I’m looking at writing a sort of continuation, a sequel, and do it as more of a serial about a couple of women, who were real women in the Caribbean who were spies and pirates, and how they all intersected with each other. So, that’s a new thing that’s kind of bubbling away right now.
H: So, you mentioned that you have an academic background in history?
C: Mmhmm.
H: Could you tell a little more about that?
C: I have a couple… two BAs. And one of my BAs is in history and the other is in Anthropology. And the reason being that when I started college, I thought at one point I wanted to be a medievalist. And then I found out what actually went into being a medievalist and then I got over that very quickly. It’s still fascinating, it’s just not for me. I started out in history and was most of the way to my degree and I had started taking some Women’s Studies classes. And I had reached that point of wondering what exactly everybody who wasn’t a white dude was actually doing during these time periods. Oh, excuse me, a white dude or an exception, because they’re always an exception.
H: Yes, yes.
C: You know and that’s women, that’s people of color, you know, that’s people with disabilities. It’s all kinds of things, they’re always an exception. I got curious about all the exceptions, so I started taking anthropology classes. I really got into those, so I got to the point where I ended up with two BAs, one in each major, and I spent several years working as a professional archeologist. That was what I did until I went to grad school and I went to grad school in Feminist Anthropology, which is a blend of Women’s Studies and Anthropology. But history has always been kind of an ongoing hobby. And a lot of my interest in it is… I should mention my father actually was a history professor, but he died when I was very young. But I had this fabulous history teacher in High School, who had been in the Hungarian Cavalry in World War II and was a Hungarian refugee living in New York and teaching history. He was amazing! He was this great, great guy and I learned so much from him. He was the one who got me very excited about things. That was originally how I got into it. But I also always had a real fondness for historical fiction. It was a magical, magical day when I realized that Dumas had actually based a lot of his novels on real people. Once I got into that, Dr. Kari Maund has a really great book, she wrote it with another author, called The Four Musketeers, that’s a history of where Dumas drew his influences, and who he based which characters on, and how they all mesh together.
H: Yeah, she’s a major Dumas fan, I can tell.
C: Yes, yes, she is. That was a lot of where that started, but the thing about it is that, as with fanfic, at a certain point you’re like, “Well, I don’t feel like I’m a part of this story.” What would have to change so that I, as a woman, I, as a, in my case I identified as bi, but as a queer woman, how do I fit myself into this so that I’m a part of the adventure? Because even as a child, even reading stuff… I would read stuff and go, “But there’s no girls!” How come there are never any girls? And that’s usually kind of the basic point that a lot of people start with is, if they’re outside the dominant narrative, why is there nobody like me in this?
H: I think that’s one of the answers to a question that I always think is a silly interview question, which is, “So, why do you write this type of character in this type of story?” And I always think, but, but… it’s because I want to see myself there.
C: Yeah, yeah. When you look at just the sheer wealth of, just focusing for a moment on queer female characters who are villainous, dead, suddenly discover they’re straight, and on and on and on, lose their loved ones, all of the other things that go into that. To get queer women, bi-women, lesbians, trans-women, written into narratives as protagonists is a major thing. And to be able to do it with somebody who really existed, whose story is not very well known, it is… it’s a gift. I mean, it’s a wonderful opportunity to be able to celebrate at least a version of who that person might have been.
H: How do you feel that having a formal background in history has affected your fiction writing other than giving you a running head-start on the research?
C: I think it actually really does impact how I do research. I put myself through graduate school as a research assistant, hired myself out to various professors, and would run around and research things that might or might not be germane to anything I was personally interested in. But learning to go through, and learning the difference between, primary and secondary sources, learning how to evaluate what you’re reading and how it compares to other sources at the time, or other interpretations you can find, has really been very helpful. I mean, that’s how I got into a lot of it. One of the things that I read for fun is social histories and biographies. There are just some amazing things that are coming out now for, again, people who weren’t that well-known, or were well-known, but mysteriously don’t have a contemporary biography. I’m thinking of Aphra Behn, the playwright, who’s the first woman who is known to have supported herself through her writing. And she was an English-woman who lived during the Restoration. Janet Todd, who’s an English historian, has just re-released her fabulous, fabulous biography of Aphra Behn, called The Secret Life of Aphra Behn. Among other things, Aphra Behn was also a spy, by contemporary standards she was probably bi-sexual. She wrote plays, she hung out with all the great rakes of the Restoration court and they had these wild times together. Just a fascinating, fascinating character. One of the points that Janet Todd brings up in this very, very large biography …. Of Aphra Behn.
H: Yes, I know, I have it.
C: Love that book… is how little is really known about her. So, you have like these signposts where she publishes something. She wrote and published a play, which eventually did get performed, called Oroonoko, which is about an African prince who’s enslaved. It was read, even at the time period, as being an early abolitionist work because she makes him a very noble character. You have a signpost for Oroonoko, and you have a signpost for when she left Surinam, but nothing about why she left Surinam or was there to begin with. And then you have The Rover and a couple other things and then she dies. But there’s like nothing about the details in between there. And one of the things I think historical fiction does is the opportunity to fill in those spaces.
H: And she did a certain amount of fictionalizing of her own life as well, is what I got the impression. So, that muddies the waters even more. Muddy waters are a great place to find treasures though.
C: It is true.
H: So, what projects that you have coming up would like to tell us about?
C: Well, one of the things that I’m doing right now is, in January, I launched my own small press. This has been in the planning stages for a couple of years now. It’s called Queen of Swords Press and, eventually, what I want to do is to have one of the imprints focus on historical fiction with fantastical elements. So, alternate histories, what’s known as manner-punk, which is kind of like, Regency fantasies, but it’s not strictly Regencies, it kind of spills over into other time-periods. All the different permutations of that… Time travel… There’s a whole subset of fantasy literature that has no explicit fantastical elements but it’s very historical. I’m thinking of things like Ellen Kushner’s Swordspoint and some of Delia Sherman’s work, and some other authors. I love that stuff. That stuff’s really fun. Your Alpennia series is another example, Ruritanian romances, so there’s all these things that are out there, that really engage me. Ultimately, I want to have an imprint that focuses on that. There’s going to be other imprints as well. Right now, we’re still in the launch phase, so I’m going through my own back-list and I’m re-releasing things in different packaging, and different covers, with different edits, and so-forth. There will be a subset that will be LGBT science fiction, fantasy, and horror. I would like to get to a point where I’m publishing some authors that are otherwise not getting much play right now, who I think are unjustly forgotten, or don’t get quite the publicity that they really have earned with their work. I’ve got some big plans for it going forward. I think it will probably be next year before I’m even ready to start looking at other peoples’ book proposals and queries and so-forth. Right now I’m talking to somebody else who does editing and we’re talking about co-editing a project. We’ll probably be doing that at the beginning of next year. That’s kind of the on-going big thing. With that, I’ve just re-released my lesbian menopausal werewolf novel, Silver Moon. Which is a coming-out novel. It ended up, when it came out originally in 2012, it finalled for both the Goldie Award for Lesbian Fiction and the Bisexual Book Awards in Science Fiction and Fantasy, which I found kind of interesting. It was nice to know that it spoke to a broad audience. I’m working on a sequel for that… The long-promised sequel that people occasionally send me peevish emails about. I’m working on it.
H: In addition, how can people contact you or follow you on social media?
C: I am out on twitter as @CLundoff, Queen of Swords also has its own twitter feed, and then Emily Byrne has her own twitter feed. All of which you can pretty much find off my twitter feed. I have a Facebook author page, I’m also out on Facebook. Presumably, if one doesn’t want the political rants, then I have a Facebook author page where it’s just about books. Queen of Swords also has its own Facebook page and its own website. I do update all of the things that I am personally doing in my various personas in the Queen of Swords Press Newsletter, which is free, and you can sign up for it on the Queen of Swords website, which is, oddly enough, www.queenofswordspress.com.
H: Thank you so much, Catherine, for sharing your time with the Lesbian Historic Motif Project.
C: Thank you, this has been a lot of fun.
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 Catherine Lundoff Online

The photo is of the Belge Cafe where I had dinner in company with a number of other denizens of the File 770 blog, once more including my first face-to-face meeting with someone I've known online since Usenet days (Anna Feruglio Dal Dan). The cafe has a "library" theme, which was part of the attraction, though the food was also excellent. But I get ahead of myself.
I had a 10am panel (Historical Fantasy) which was the first time-slot of the day's programming. So of course I headed off to the convention center with plenty of time, not noting that the doors didn't even open until 9am. And the food vendors inside the center weren't planning to open until 10, which would have been less of an issue regarding my second cup of coffee of the day if the Green Room had been open and set up. But although it opened about five minutes before the panel started, so we panelists managed to touch base there, but coffee carafe did not yet have contents. Whimper. The panel went off well, I think (supported by some later audience feedback). It still felt a bit stiff with the "you will all take turns answering this question" format, but I can cope with a variety of styles. We basically did some stabs at definitional principles for historical fantasy, examples of what we considered success and failure, and a few additional topics.
The room was completely filled, though I don't think anyone was turned away from our particular panel. They're rearranged some of the programming space to move the more popular tracks into larger spaces for the rest of the convention and even yesterday before they'd done that, there were fewer grumbles about not being able to get into events. (Though there were always lines waiting to get in.) The waiting-on-line aspect is something I'd hate to see become a feature of worldcons--it's something I associate with media conventions and not to be imitated.
Lunch was yet another meet-up of one of my online social groups. Social media can often feel like a one-way glass window, where if I'm not constantly actively participating, it feels like I stop being real. But the face-to-face meet-ups go a long way toward making it feel more like an actual circle of friends. It's funny, there are people that I feel like I'm part of a friend-group with, where I realize that they may not actually "know" me at all, because I'm seeing them reflected off mutual friends. So it can be strange to approach someone at a con and try to remember whether this is someone I "know" or simply someone I "know of".
After lunch I dropped by to give moral support to Catherine Lundoff at her signing. The row of signing tables was basically half a dozen people looking rather lonely, and then the table where George R R Martin was going to be an hour later, which had a line of waiting people that numbered in the hundreds. See above comment about waiting on lines. The big name authors usually have significant lines for signings at Worldcon, but not usually ones that line up hours in advance. (I saw a comment that someone said they'd spent 4 hours in line for him.) Again, I hope this doesn't become a feature, and I don't know that it was necessary. But if you have a line-standing expectation, it's easy for line-standing to become necessary.
Went off to a panel on magical libraries and archives in fiction, which was entertaining, though perhaps a bit too fixed on talking about real-world library systems. I'd wanted to go to Amal El Mohtar's reading immediately after that but figured there was no point given the crowding issues, and only heard later that there were still spaces at the time I would have shown up. Ah well.
Finished off the evening with a long chatty dinner with the File 770 crowd, for which see above photo.
I don't seem to have taken any pictures yesterday -- need to remember to do that today. The convention officially opened, though I had something else opposite the opening ceremonies so I can't report on them. There is evidently a certain amount of "victims of their own success" going on with much higher at-con membership sales than expected, so the popular events and panels are jam packed. So maybe I wouldn't have gotten in to the opening ceremonies anyway. The main "large panel" space has four breakout rooms, and originally the largest panels were going to be in a the combined A/B section, but for the one thing I attended there -- the Tea & Jeopardy podcast live interview with George R R Martin -- they'd opened up the entire A/B/C/D combined space. (Back before the convention, the podcast had arranged for podcast Patreon supporters to sign up for special reserved seating, which I did, but when I got there it was clear that any plans of that sort had gone out the window. Or at least none of the crowd control folks knew anything about it.) The convention has put out announcements that they're scrambling to arrange for more function space with the convention center, and they've had to close down one-day memberships. I've heard bits of grumbling about basically not being able to attend anything back-to-back both because of traffic flow issues and the need to queue up well in advance to get into anything. It will be interesting to see if things settle out or escalate.
I didn't have any programming yesterday, and no must-do events other than the initial File770 social meetup and the Escape Artists meet-up (Escape Artists runs a series of fiction podcasts, including Podcastle.org which has bought two of my "Merchinogi" short stories.) The layout of the convention center is great for sitting down in one of the cafe areas and watching people go by (or wandering by people hanging out in the cafe areas), which is how I immediately ran into Irina Rempt (also on my list to visit after the con) and her friend Eleanor, then later once again bumped into Praisegod Barebones & The-Girl-from-Ankyra (with whom I'd had coffee the day before) at which we exchanged gifts (I brought a stack of chapbooks of "The Mazarinette and the Musketeer" for gifts), and others who are slipping my mind. Briefly bumped into Kari Sperring (whose schedule didn't work out for an after-con visit) and dropped by the Accessibility Point to wave hi to a couple friends who were staffing it.
As noted, I did got to the Tea & Jeopardy live recording, which worked very well as a stage presentation (including the singing chickens...who were simply too shy to come out from behind the curtain). Good audience participation schtick too. Then I went to a panel on "The Medieval Mind and Fantasy Literature" looking at contrasts between actual medieval history and culture, and the version that tends to show up in fantasy. (Generally good, though marred slightly by one of the panelists have a problem with taking 100 words to present a 5-word thought.)
In the mean time, thanks to the wonders of social media, I'd responded to a dinner-fishing post from Catherine Lundoff and her wife Jana with a suggestion to merge in my existing dinner plans with Sarah Goslee and husband Thorvaldr (I'm going to mix names from different spheres based on what I can remember most easily), to which Catherine had added Paul Weimer, Charlie Stross, and oh-crap-I'm-blanking-on-Charlie's-partner's-name-sorry! Dietary specifications landed us in a tiny vegan Vietnamese place where our moderate-sized party took up half the tables. Lovely conversation that wasn't all politics (though politics featured significantly), nor all about writing (though writing featured significantly), with most of us continuing on to a brew pub that it turns out was just a block away from my hotel.
This morning's hotel breakfast landed me with a group I'd seen yesterday, where I valiantly struggled to hold up my end of a discussion of current SFF television and movies. And now, in addition to writing this up, I'm reviewing my notes for my morning panel on historic fantasy (for which the moderator has sent out a somewhat over-structured outline for the discussion, but I'm sure it will go fine). Other than that, the fixed items on my schedule are three more social meet-ups (two of which conflict, so I may have to triage, since one is at the convention center and the other downtown for a loose dinner group). And beyond that, whatever programming I can squeeze myself into. See you on the flip side!

"Reception" is meant in several senses. The picture is not the official Worldcon reception at City Hall (which was a bit too washed out to make a good image)...but I get ahead of myself. One of the fascinating things about online culture, is that not only am I meeting people that I've known for years but have never seen face to face, but in some cases I'm meeting people I've known for years and realize I have no idea what their real names are. In the case of yesterday's coffee meet-up there's an objective reason for this (he's an ex-pat teaching in a country with touchy politics and doesn't want to connect his online and real life identities), but often it's just a matter of knowing someone through the nickname they use in a particular online space. That's who they are, as much as any name is "who you are". I joke that the first time I went to the medieval studies conference at Kalamazoo, between people I knew through SCA, people I knew through academia, people I knew through LiveJournal, people I knew through Usenet, and people I knew through other people talking about them, I had a vision of quite how many people I was likely to run into that I already knew...and then discovered that, due to redundancy, the actual number of discrete individuals was much smaller.
In any case, I had coffee with someone I know as Praisegod Barebones and with his daughter (just about to go off to college) who has become a charter member of the unofficial official Alpennia fan club. And because the next thing on their agenda was wandering around the farmers' market/tourist market at the harbor, we ended up spending several hours together. Checked out the interior of the Orthodox cathedral, shared a basket of billberries from the market, and then split up with they went off to do a ferry tour of several islands.
I headed back to my room for a bit of a rest (valiently struggling to not nap), and then eventually headed off to the Worldcon reception at City Hall (evidently they did a random pick of people who were participating in programming--or at least that's what I heard, which caused a bit of a wave of consternation when people tried to figure out why some people got invited and others didn't, without knowing about the random factor). A bit of speechifying, a light buffet of cocktail food, and a lot of milling about struggling to socialize. Within two minutes I was at the point of "I recognize six people in this room and they're all in the middle of knots of friends", so I shifted gears into "walk up and introduce myself to people who are standing all by themselves and break the ice by saying that that's what I'm doing." Eventually bumped into several people I actually did already know, but cocktail parties are always about survival mode.
Expecting (accurately) that the reception wouldn't be anything resembling a real meal, I'd hoped to hook up with people planning to go off to dinner afterward, but failed to make any connections. Since I had a phone call to make I went back to my room (I thought I needed to sort out something with my ATM card, but it turned out I'd just happened to hit the one malfunctioning ATM in all Helsinki and thought it was my account that was the problem). Still needed dinner after that and made some connection attempts on social media but nothing panned out with the right timing so I ate by myself at a pasta place with some nice patio seating on the main square. I always feel like a failure when I eat by myself at conventions. I failed again at breakfast this morning despite the hotel filling up with con goers, and me wandering through the (open seating) dining room hopefully trying for eye contact. My game isn't getting off the ground so far, but half the dinners from here on are already scheduled, so that should get better.
I've packed my backpack with essential supplies (business cards, Alpennia badge ribbons, sample books, a change of shirt) since the hotel is a train stop away from the convention center. Helsinki doesn't have a single big convention space + hotel so we're scattered throughout the downtown area. I'm assuming I won't be coming back to my room until evening most nights.

This will be an irregular chronicle of My Summer Vacation, beginning in Helsinki, Finland. Seeing all sorts of online friends reporting late planes and missed connections, I have to count myself lucky at getting a non-stop flight (though we were delayed an hour taking off, so good thing I didn't have a connection to miss). I spotted several other Worldcon-bound fans in the waiting room for my flight, in some cases due to strategic use of the "Helsinki 2017" bright blue t-shirts, but in some cases because it was someone I actually knew (waves at David Peterson). The flight was wonderfully non-full, and far more comfortable than economy class typically is. (I swear that the seats reclined farther than usual, but this may be an illusion because they certainly weren't any farther apart than usual.) By a judicious use of half a sleeping pill and my audiobooks, I managed as much sleep as I normally do, which meant I woke up just about when they were serving breakfast, a couple hours out from landing.
Of course, landing was at 4pm local time. It's possible I would have done better to get less sleep on the plane and been more tired last night, but I'm not going to complain. I navigated the airport, customs, and catching the train into the city as if I knew what I were doing. The one glitch so far is that my planned roommate (Liz Bourke) called in sick, having come down with something at the conference on Byzantium in SF last week. (The tweets coming out of that conference made me a bit envious of those who attended, but one can't do everything.) I'm a bit sad, because I like using room sharing at cons as a way to get to know people I might not have spent time with before. It's always awkward offering up room space for those in last minute need because of issues around being choosy.
Anyway, after checking in at the Hotel Arthur, I went out for a long walk to get acquainted with the downtown, find something to eat (a light smoked salmon sandwith at the Kappeli cafe in the esplanade park), and generally get in enough physical activity to reset my body a little. It was one of those times where it would have been nice to bump into other fans and do some socializing, but I wasn't up to figuring out how I would manage that. Sleep was decent enough that I think I'm well on track to get through the jet lag.
The hotel has a complimentary breakfast buffet with some interesting (and occasionally cryptic) choices. I mostly settled on muesli with yogurt-like-substance and fresh mixed berries. Then took in a walk through the botanic gardens which back up on the hotel. I have a 10:30 date to meet some online friends for coffee, and after that I'll improvise. Maybe even take some time to put together notes for the panels I'm on, which I haven't had the brainspace to do yet.
The blog comes around again to Catalina de Erauso, who kicked off the current thematic grouping. It's an odd trio: Catalina the cross-dressing soldier of fortune in the New World, Eleno de Cespedes the transgender doctor who began life as a slave, and Queen Christina of Sweden who became the darling of the Spanish aristocracy (at long distance) when she decided to convert from Lutheranism to Catholicism--a decision that made them willing to overlook her long-rumored romantic relationships with women. And I am now imagining a buddy movie...
Velasco, Sherry. 2011. Lesbians in Early Modern Spain. Vanderbilt University Press, Nashville. ISBN 978-0-8265-1750-0
A study of the evidence and social context for women who loved women in early modern Spain, covering generally the 16-17th centuries and including some material from colonial Spanish America.
Chapter 4: Transgender Lesbian Celebrities
[The following is duplicated from the associated blog. I'm trying to standardize the organization of associated content.]
The blog comes around again to Catalina de Erauso, who kicked off the current thematic grouping. It's an odd trio: Catalina the cross-dressing soldier of fortune in the New World, Eleno de Cespedes the transgender doctor who began life as a slave, and Queen Christina of Sweden who became the darling of the Spanish aristocracy (at long distance) when she decided to convert from Lutheranism to Catholicism--a decision that made them willing to overlook her long-rumored romantic relationships with women. And I am now imagining a buddy movie...
# # #
This chapter focuses on three specific individuals whose gender and sexuality brought them celebrity status in 16-17th century Spain: Catalina de Erauso, Queen Christina of Sweden, and Elena/Eleno de Céspedes. In comparing them, we can see the influence of race and class on how gender transgression was received.
Catalina de Erauso ran away from a convent in Spain at age 15 before taking final vows, began living as a man, and had a violent and turbulent career in the Spanish colonies of the New World before deciding to tell her history publicly. She returned to Spain where she was greeted as a celebrity and successfully petitioned the crown for a pension, went to Rome where she received dispensation from the Pope to continue wearing male clothing, wrote her memoirs, and eventually returned to the New World where she lived in relative obscurity working as a mule driver for twenty years until her death. [I’ve abbreviated her background due to its more detailed coverage in Steptoe & Steptoe 1996 and Velasco 2000.]
Elena/Eleno de Céspedes was a black enslaved person in 16th century Spain who, after a failed marriage and giving birth to a child, began living as a man and eventually embarked on a successful career as a surgeon. Eleno testified that he had undergone a spontaneous physical change of sex and, after obtaining testimony supporting this claim was given persmission to marry a woman. This assessment was later challenged and a second examination did not support the claim of male physiology. Following that, Eleno was tried for sodomy and “consorting with demons” along with “contempt for the sacrament of marriage”. The eventual conviction, somewhat confusingly, was for bigamy. That is, Eleno had failed to provide documentation of the death of Elena’s husband prior to Eleno marrying a woman. Eleno was sentence to whipping and to serving a sort of community service providing medical care in a hospital for indigents, whose administrator later complained of the crowds of curious people who came to see the celebrity. [For more details, see Burshatin 1996.]
Queen Christina of Sweden may seem an odd person to become a celebrity in Spain, particularly as she never actually traveled there. Spanish connections were a major influence on Christina’s decision to covert to Catholicism (necessitating her abdication from the Swedish throne). Christina had a lifelong habit of crossdressing and her romantic interest in women, including specific members of her household, was open knowledge. But these issues that Spanish culture, in theory, disapproved of, were overlooked due to her social rank and the high-level approval of her in Spain because of the coup her conversion was considered.
These three people had three very different receptions by the Spanish authorities. Eleno was a person of color whose life as a man included marriage to a woman and (at least the accusation of) performing sex with an artificial penis. Eleno went to significant lengths to establish an official male identity in the face of physical signs of female sex. An interesting contrast to Eleno is the situation of the nun María Muñoz, who developed male physical characteristics (possibly as a result of an intersex condition) but manufactured signs of femaleness (such as apparent evidence of menstruation) in order to conceal the issue and continue to be accepted as a woman.
Eleno’s transgression (in addition to being non-white) was laying claim to male priviledge despite anatomy. In contrast, although Catalina (white and upper class) didn’t dispute the judgment of female status once her story was told, even in the context of requesting permission to continue performing as male. Catalina never tried to marry a woman. There were several situations where the possibility of marriage was raised and Catalina deceived the potential brides for her own gain, but in all cases these women were mestizas and this may have contributed to a lack of concern over their experience.
Christina’s interest in converting from Lutherinism to Catholicism motivated positive reactions to her from Spanish authorities, despite regular comments in the Spanish diplomatic correspondence on her masculine appearance and rumors of her affairs with women. These were sometimes coded in phrases like “not being the marrying type.” After Christina’s abdication, Spain was excitedly preparing for a visit from her in 1656 when everything fell apart at the last minute due her choice to support Spain’s enemy France in certain concerns. Spanish rhetoric about her made an abrupt change from praise to satire, focusing specifically on romors of heterosexual affairs, including a fictitious illicit pregnancy, but curiously avoiding mention of her relations with women.
This omission of the lesbian rumors was not universal. There was a thinly veiled depiction of Christina as the character Cristerna de Suevia in the play Afectos de Odo y amor, which portrays her using the stock character of a mujer esquiva, a woman averse to love and marriage, and to men in general. The character in the play is defending her right to rule as a woman, in conflict with the antagonist/romantic lead Casimiro. The play toys with implications of same-sex desire in giving Cristerna a lady-in-waiting named Lesbia, and setting up a bait-and-switch marriage plot in wich Cristerna agrees to marry Casimiro’s sister (that is, within the play this is overtly a same-sex marriage plan). When Cristerna has committed to the marriage, the sister substitutes in her brother Caisimiro and Cristerna inexplicably capitulates all her feminist positions and declares that women should be men’s vassals.
Starting this month, the Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast is expanding from monthly to weekly! Originally I was hesitant to try an expanded schedule because I didn't think I could produce enough new material to match that demand. The key was trying some new episode types. And it all ties in with promoting the general idea of lesbian historical fiction. Basically, I'll be adding author interviews, and people talking about their favorite lesbian historical fiction. And the first episode of every month (like this one) will be a hodge-podge I'm calling "On the Shelf", talking about the publications that I'm covering on the blog, announcing who the month's author guest will be, and having a listener Q&A and feedback segment I'm calling "Ask Sappho". This month's question asks for an overview of the legal status of lesbianism across the centuries.
Has the podcast only been going for a year? There were twelve numbered episodes under the monthly schedule, not including the cross-over October special episode I did with Susie Carr. I've learned a lot about recording and editing, and am beginning to get the hang of recording interviews via Skype. (Now I want to pick the brains of all the multi-person shows I listen to for more tips.)
At this point, I still have the freedom of doing pretty much any sort of show I want, because I don't get much feedback on what people would like to hear. (About the only solid piece of criticism that's been passed on is that I talk too fast! I'm working on it, believe me. Hey, did you know there's an editing effect in Audacity that will decrease the speed of your recording without affecting pitch? Ask me how I know.) But with the expanded format, I need more listener feedback. What sort of random questions would you like me to talk about in the "Ask Sappho" segment? Is there an author you'd like me to try to interview? (No promises, but suggestions are welcome.) Is there a topic you'd like to see in the long-form episodes? I keep a list of prompts to inspire me.
Keep in mind that "free" entertainment online still needs your support if it's going to continue. At the very least, leaving ratings and reviews on your podcast site of choice helps bump the show up in visibility. And if you especially like my history series, please say so, in your reviews or directly to the Lesbian Talk Show management. As in everything I do, my work is about 97 degrees out of sync with the field I'm operating in, so it's important to let people know that you like my work in particular, not just the show as a whole.
Now with added transcript!
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Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast - Episode 13 (formerly "13a" - On the Shelf August 2017 - transcript
(Originally aired 2017/08/05 - listen here)
Introducing new format
Welcome to the new, expanded schedule and format for the Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast! Starting this month, the podcast will air weekly on Saturdays, with a rotating series of features. But don’t worry, the historic essays that have been the heart of the podcast up to this point will still be the main event.
The first week of every month, we’ll start with an episode I’m calling “On the Shelf”. It includes a round-up of what the Lesbian Historic Motif Project blog has been covering recently, as well as what publications we’re planning to cover in the near future, plus a brief sketch of what you can expect from the podcast for the rest of the month. And I’m adding a feature I call “ask Sappho” for reader questions and feedback. So start thinking about the questions about lesbian history you’ve always wanted to ask.
The second week we’ll have an interview with an author who writes historically based fiction featuring lesbians or bi women. This can include historic fantasy as long as it’s rooted in an actual historic period. The same author is invited back in the third week to provide an appreciation of one or more historic stories by other authors that they’ve particularly enjoyed.
Then the fourth week is our usual in-depth historic essay. And if there’s a fifth Saturday in the month, we’ll have some sort of special feature.
Are you ready for the August On the Shelf episode?
On the Blog
The Lesbian Historic Motif Project blog has spent July doing a feature on Catalina de Erauso, a 17th century Basque woman who ran away from the convent and lived as a man to go adventuring in the Spanish colonies of the New World. Last week’s podcast provided a summary of her life and excerpts from her memoirs.
The blog covered an English translation of those memoirs by Michele Stepto and Gabriel Stepto, a study by historian Sherry Velasco of how Catalina has been turned into a fictional character in popular media, starting during her own lifetime and continuing up through the present day. Her story has been featured in plays and novels, in sensational news tabloids, and in the twenties century in several movies and graphic novels.
Sherry Velasco is also the author of the book what fills out the rest of July and will continue on through August. This one is titled Lesbians in Early Modern Spain and looks at a wide variety of types of evidence for romantic and erotic relationships between women in the 16th and 17th centuries. There are chapters covering medical theories, prosecution records, religious institutions, literary images, and more.
As always, the blog posts for the Lesbian Historic Motif Project can be found at Alpennia.com or follow the link in the show notes. You can read the blog on the website or subscribe to the RSS feed.
Author Guest
This month’s author interview will be with Catherine Lundoff, who writes a wide variety of queer science fiction, fantasy, and historical stories. She will also be our Book Appreciation guest this month.
Historic Essay
The August essay feature is a topic that may be a bit controversial. The title is: Beguines, Boston Marriages, and Bed Death - Historic Archetypes of Asexual Lesbianism. So look forward to learning more about that at the end of the month.
Ask Sappho: When was it legal and illegal to be a lesbian?
And now, let’s move on to the Ask Sappho feature. Our inaugural question comes from Sheena, our fearless leader here at the Lesbian Talk Show. She asks: “I would like a kind of breakdown of when it became illegal and legal to be lesbian. What I am finding interesting is that it wasn't always a big taboo what changed?”
This is a complicated question. I suspect that half my answers to the Ask Sappho questions are going to start that way! You’ll often find claims in English-language works on the history of lesbians that -- unlike for male homosesexuals -- lesbianism was never technically illegal. But usually this statement is made in a context that assumes we’re talking about English history, and even in that context the answer is complicated.
In the first place, it’s kind of difficult to have a law that says it’s illegal to “be” a lesbian. All that laws that we’re going to talk about are targeting some sort of action. But the actions they focused on don’t necessarily line up with our idea of what it means to be a lesbian. What we’re dealing with is a patchwork in time and space affecting specific acts and behaviors that differed not only across cultures but depending on the personal context of the individuals involved.
For example, take the question of specific sex acts. There were a number of times and places in European history when it was illegal to engage in what was classified as “female sodomy”, that is sodomy committed between two women. Frequently, conviction called for the death penalty, although even then it might be reduced due to mitigating factors. But legal experts varied greatly over exactly what constituted “female sodomy”. Some held the opinion that it was any sort of genital stimulation engaged in between women. A more narrow view held that only penetrative sex could be called sodomy. So often a woman’s life might depend on whether she’d used a dildo or not, regardless of what else she got up to.
A comprehensive look at laws covering lesbian sex acts in pre-modern Europe can be found in an article by historian Louis Crompton titled “The Myth of Lesbian Impunity: Capital Laws from 1270 to 1791.” I’ll have a link in the show notes to my summary of this and other articles I mention.
Sex acts that didn’t fall under secular law codes might still be punished with religious penance if a women confessed to them. Since pretty much any sexual activity that wasn’t penis-in-vagina sex in the context of marriage has been considered a sin at some point, these penalties weren’t really targeting lesbians as such, so it isn’t clear whether they count under the terms of the question.
To a large extent, the legal offence wasn’t that a woman loved a woman, but that a woman was usurping the privileges of a man, including the use of a penis. For the same reason, for a woman to pass as a man in order to have a romantic or sexual relationship with a woman was considered a much greater offence than if both partners presented themselves as women. Again, the crime isn’t being a lesbian, the crime is daring to try to be a man. I’m side-stepping the very complicated question of whether it’s possible to distinguish between a woman passing as a man and a trans man in pre-modern cultures. That’s another entire topic.
Even in cultures where “female sodomy” wasn’t in the law books, the law often pursued passing women who entered into same-sex domestic partnerships or even marriages as a type of fraud. Sometimes the question of fraud was raised because the femme partner claimed not to have known their partner was a woman. But there are cases in England of passing women being tried for fraud in same-sex marriages even when their partner didn’t bring a complaint.
Regardless of sexual orientation, there have sometimes been laws against wearing clothing associated with the other gender. This is one type of law used against lesbians in 20th century America. In pre-modern times in Europe, prohibitions against cross-dressing were more often enforced by social pressure than by law, although in times and places when religious authorities carried significant legal weight, Biblical prohibitions against wearing garments belonging to the opposite sex were often cited and enforced.
Let’s take a look at some specific examples of what women might be tried for and what the results were.
In 1477 in Germany a woman named Katerina Hetzeldorfer was tried, convicted, and executed for having sex with several women, while disguised as a man, and using an artificial penis. Katerina pretty much hit the trifecta in terms of offence: cross-dressing, performing penetrative sex, and apparently concealing her biological sex from at least some of her partners.
As a strong contrast in circumstances, less than half a century later, another German woman named Greta von Mösskirch was investigated for loving other women (though it’s unclear exactly what physical acts may have been involved) and appears to have received no penalty at all, but in this case there was no cross-dressing and no artificial instrument involved.
In 1295 in Italy, a woman named Bertolina was accused in court of having -- or at least boasting of having had -- sex with women using an artificial penis. But there was a complicating factor in that she was also accused of practicing magic, both to secure lovers and for fortune-telling and other purposes. But this wasn’t a criminal case, rather it was brought before the court as a civil accusation by a personal enemy. The outcome was that she was fined, although a parallel accusation of sodomy against a man would likely have resulted in the death penalty. Note that in this case there was no gender disguise involved.
In England, the motif of same-sex marriage where one partner was presenting as a man was so well fixed as a concept that it had its own name: a “female husband”. There are any number of law cases when female husbands were unmasked, but the nature of the charge was either fraud--that is, that they were deceiving their spouse about their gender, generally with the implication of monetary gain--or somewhat more confusingly, bigamy, in the event that the female husband had previously been married to a man. I say, confusingly, because a charge of bigamy indicates that the marriage between the two women was in some way considered valid, otherwise the question of bigamy wouldn’t apply. One of my previous podcasts talked about a marriage and lawsuit of this type between two English women in the 17th century.
Jumping around considerably to 19th century America, in 1857, a woman was arrested in San Francisco for cross-dressing as a man and successfully challenged the charge on the basis that there was no law against what she had done. The political authorities decided this lack clearly needed to be remedied and passed a law in 1863 against a person appearing in a public place “in a dress not belonging to his or her sex.” That San Francisco law was not removed from the books until 1974.
So the big take-home lesson regarding the law and lesbianism is that there is no clear progression or dividing line between legal and illegal. The question of whether you could be charged, arrested, convicted, and punished -- including everything up to execution -- for lesbian activities depended on where, when, and who you were, and on exactly how your sexuality was being expressed. Conditions swung back and forth from harsh penalties, to benign neglect, to carefully targeted gender policing, to a head-in-the -sand attitude of not wanting to admit that women might do something like that, to a determination that the law could find something to punish if it was bound and determined to do so.
Business
If you have a question about lesbians in history, or a comment on one of these episodes, you can either e-mail me at the address in the show notes, or on my website and Alpennia.com, or you can bring it to my attention in the Lesbian Talk Show Chat Group on facebook.
I’m also interested in suggestions of authors to interview. I’m particularly interested in people working in eras earlier than the 20th century and cultures outside of America and England, and I’d love suggestions of authors of color to invite onto the show. Please send interview suggestions by e-mail.
I hope you like the show’s new format.
Your monthly update on what the Lesbian Historic Motif Project has been doing.
In this episode we talk about:
Links to the Lesbian Historic Motif Project Online
Links to Heather Online
Using the records of court cases to research lesbian lives in history is a two-edged sword. On the one hand, they often present a wealth of detail not found in any other type of record unless--by miraculous luck--a personal diary or set of candid correspondence is unearthed. But conversely, court cases, by their nature, present a skewed view of people's lives. They show people in conflict and distress. They arise when relationships go bad, or were never particularly good in the first place. They are typcially the records of only those classes of people who aren't able to conceal their activities through priviledge, or to evade legal penalties if concealment is impossible. It would be all too easy, when looking at the trials of criminal lesbians, to conclude that lesbianism inherently leads to criminality. (Consider as a parallel how early psychiatrists studying homosexuality in their patients--patients who had come to them for help with severe problems--concluded that homosexuality was an inherently deranged condition. Because, after all, all the homosexuals they knew were people with serious emotional problems!) With that caveat, the court records studied here provide a rich and extensive (sometimes very extensive) record of the details of how some women lived together in romantic and sexual partnerships. Of what some of their sexual practices were. And how their relationships were sometimes viewed by the neighbors and family members who were aware of them.
One interesting take-away is that these romantic relationships between women were sometimes public knowledge in their communities, and sometimes apparently accepted by their families. (At least, that's the implication when they are living as a couple in a family member's house.) And although the cases that came before the law demonstrate that any sort of sexual activity between women was considered worthy of punishment, the severity of that punishment depended strongly on the specific sex acts involved. Reading between the lines, there seems to be plenty of scope to imagine lesbian relationships that never came to the interest of the law for the simple fact that they never turned sour enough to disrupt the community, and where the women lived openly as a couple with at least tolerance from family and neighbors.
Velasco, Sherry. 2011. Lesbians in Early Modern Spain. Vanderbilt University Press, Nashville. ISBN 978-0-8265-1750-0
A study of the evidence and social context for women who loved women in early modern Spain, covering generally the 16-17th centuries and including some material from colonial Spanish America.
Chapter 3: Criminal Lesbians
[The following is duplicated from the associated blog. I'm trying to standardize the organization of associated content.]
Using the records of court cases to research lesbian lives in history is a two-edged sword. On the one hand, they often present a wealth of detail not found in any other type of record unless--by miraculous luck--a personal diary or set of candid correspondence is unearthed. But conversely, court cases, by their nature, present a skewed view of people's lives. They show people in conflict and distress. They arise when relationships go bad, or were never particularly good in the first place. They are typcially the records of only those classes of people who aren't able to conceal their activities through priviledge, or to evade legal penalties if concealment is impossible. It would be all too easy, when looking at the trials of criminal lesbians, to conclude that lesbianism inherently leads to criminality. (Consider as a parallel how early psychiatrists studying homosexuality in their patients--patients who had come to them for help with severe problems--concluded that homosexuality was an inherently deranged condition. Because, after all, all the homosexuals they knew were people with serious emotional problems!) With that caveat, the court records studied here provide a rich and extensive (sometimes very extensive) record of the details of how some women lived together in romantic and sexual partnerships. Of what some of their sexual practices were. And how their relationships were sometimes viewed by the neighbors and family members who were aware of them.
One interesting take-away is that these romantic relationships between women were sometimes public knowledge in their communities, and sometimes apparently accepted by their families. (At least, that's the implication when they are living as a couple in a family member's house.) And although the cases that came before the law demonstrate that any sort of sexual activity between women was considered worthy of punishment, the severity of that punishment depended strongly on the specific sex acts involved. Reading between the lines, there seems to be plenty of scope to imagine lesbian relationships that never came to the interest of the law for the simple fact that they never turned sour enough to disrupt the community, and where the women lived openly as a couple with at least tolerance from family and neighbors.
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This chapter looks at evidence regarding lesbian activity that can be found in specific court cases, as well as perceptions of the role of lesbian relations in criminal activities and contexts. The point here is not that lesbians were inherently criminal in early modern Spain (though some official opinions were that one type of deviant behavior was expected to lead to other types), but that the nature of legal records can provide a wealth of detail that is not available for other contexts.
The conflicting professional opinions on female sodomy in Spain played out in criminal prosecutions. The outcome of trials could depend both on the specific nature of the behavior and situation as well as on how successful the accused woman was in contesting the charges. The summary of this chapter will largely be brief outlines of the cases.
Ca. 1400 a woman dressed as a man served as a judicial official and married two women (presumably sequentially). She was convicted of sodomy because she used a penetrative instrument for sex, but recognition of her government service resulted in leniency. Specifically, she was hanged rather than the prescribed sentence of being burnt to death. The accusation had come from her second wife.
In 1502 in Valencia a woman passed as a man and married a woman, using an artificial penis made of lambskin for sex. She had also had sex in that way with other women. Her gender was discovered in the context of an accusation of theft. She was sentenced to hang but was pardoned on the basis of a legal technicality with regard to how the trial was handled. In a number of these cases, it is an open question whether the “femme” partner was truly ignorant of the sex of the passing woman or whether she was relying on the legal tendency to focus on gender transgressions rather than the sexual relationship per se.
In 1503, two women--Catalina de Belunçe and Matiche de Oyarzún--were accused of having sex “like a man and a woman”. No other specifics of the offence were given and there was no mention of the use of an instrument. Only one of the pair was sentenced to banishment and confiscation of her belongings, but with capital punishment if she returned from banishment. But rather than accepting this leniency, she appealed to the royal court, claiming innocence and that no evidence had been offered. The charge had been based on “public reputation” of her activities. She impugned the witness and accused the prosecutor (the local mayor) of a profit motive in pursuing the case. She was pardoned, the sentence reversed, and her possessions were returned to her. The true story behind the case is hard to decipher. Why was her partner not also accused (given that there doesn’t appear to have been a “butch-femme” dynamic in the accused behavior)? Who was the witness?
In 1560, the Inquisition in Aragon debated whether a case involving several women fell under the category of sodomy as no sexual instrument had been used, though there was genital contact (which was described in heterocentric terms). They ended up not prosecuting.
In 1656, the Inquisition in Aragon judged a case against a 28 year old widow Ana Aler and a 22 year old laundress Mariana López who were accused of sodomy by nosy neighbors (two men and three women). The specific behaviors involved were hugging, kissing, putting a hand under the skirt to touch the genitals, expressions of jealousy followed by protestations of loyalty and pledges of love. The women were said to follow each other around. It was claimed that Ana boasted of having sex with “the best woman in Zaragoza” who was willing to pay her for it, but it’s unclear if this was an actual reference to female same-sex prostitution or just boasting. The neighbors testified they overheard the sounds of passion and sex talk , “Give it to me, I can’t wait any longer!” as well as to seeing the women lying on top of each other and evidence of “emission of semen” (i.e., orgasm). Although there was no evidence of a penetrative instrument being used, the verdict was still labeled “sodomy” but the sentence was limited to whipping and exile and the women were forbidden to live in the same location in the future.
Inés de Santa Cruz and Catalina Ledesma were arrested in 1603 in Salamanca as “bujarronas” (female sodomites). They had previous sodomy convictions in Valladolid. A complex background story emerged from the trial. Inés had at one point claimed to be a nun and was soliciting donations and assembling a group of “wayward” young women to take them to a convent (the implication being a house of penitence for reformed prostitutes). The suspicion was that instead she was recruiting for the sex trade. The sexual accusations against Inés and Catalina included use of a penetrative instrument and they were given a death sentence which was appealed and reduced to whipping and banishment.
Among the details of the testimony it emerged that the two women had enjoyed a long term domestic partnership “eating at the same table and sleeping in the same bed.” Their love for each other was public knowledge. Catalina had left her husband to live with Inés. Among the witnesses was a maid from Catalina’s father’s house where the two lived for a time. The detailed testimony reveals the witnesses’ fantasies as well as facts. The existence of sexual activity was assumed from overheard activity including panting and grunting and comments like, “Does that feel good?” as well as love talk.
The defendants admitted to the sex but each tried to frame her own role as less culpable based on minor technicalities such as who was lying on top. The sexual acts they admitted to included rubbing vulvas together and manual stimulation. They were inconsistent with regard to the use of an instrument. (Witnesses said they had used an instrument made of cane, but Inés described one made of leather that they stopped using because it was painful.)
During one temporary separation, they may have had sex with other women and there was reported discussion of the advantages of lesbian sex: no pregnancy, it was more pleasurable than heterosexual sex, they found men repulsive. In this context, Catalina reported on knowing of other female couples in the convent where she stayed for a time. Much of the evidence may have come out during fights between the women. Catalina felt that Inés was stalking and harassing her to renew the relationship, though witnesses said their relationship ran hot and cold and was not one-sided. Inés seems to have been the more jealous and controlling. Neighbors described them as being so close a couple “like man and woman” that all attempts to break them up failed. All this happened over an extended period of time during which their relationship was public knowledge. The neighbors would insult them (and they each other) with terms like bujarronas (female sodomites), puta bellaca (cheating whore), somética (fem. sodomite), bellaca baldresera (dildo-wielding scoundrel). Velasco compares their reported behavior to modern patterns of domestic violence among lesbians. Inés was significantly older, more economically stable, and was the more aggressive and controlling. The trial was instigated when Catalina went to the authorities to complain about Inés’s violent behavior.
Despite the admitted use of a penetrating instrument, they were not given the death penalty and had received similarly lenient treatment in a previous trial. Velaso notes that these trial records contradict the idea that sexual relationships between women were invisible but also contradict the idea that they were tolerated or considered insignificant.
In 1745 in Colombia, two mestiza seamstresses named Margarita Valenzuela and Gregoria Franco had a long-term public romance that was disrupted by the reappearance of the father of Margarita’s child. This resulted in a conflict that came to the attention of the law. Gregoria was banished for a short term and warned not to reinitiate the relationship on penalty of permanent banishment.
In 1597, the Inquisition in Mallorca found a 30 year old single woman Esperanza de Rojas guilty of various offences, including practicing love magic to re-attract the passion of two women she’d been sexually involved with while all three were at a home for fallen women. She was sentenced to whipping and exile with the mitigating factor that she had acted in anger. The major concern was the accusation of demonic magic and the recorded testimony included specifics of the rituals. These included claims that she used Jewish and Muslim prayers as well as using a demonic statuette as a focus. The nature of the rituals was consistent with descriptions of heterosexual love magic at the time. Esperanza claimed she had learned the rituals from another woman while traveling to Rome and Naples.
Further investigations by the Inquisition at the institution where the three women had lived that took place in 1597-8 turned up other accusations of same-sex activity. Catalina Lebrés was accused of “illicit relations with other female residents.”
Velasco spends some time discussing the nature and context of female penitential institutions in early modern Spain. Their general purpose was to control women who were not successfully under patriarchal authority. There were concerns about women’s misbehavior inside the institutions, but that concern might either focus on, or be oblivious to, the possibility of lesbian sex. Overcrowding was a regular concern, as well as the potential for women to learn new forms of criminality from the other inmates.
Concerns regarding the potential for sexual relations between women were shared by religious penitential institutions and regular convents. Convent rules often proscribed sleeping together or forbade two nuns to be alone together behind closed doors. The code word for the concern was “special friendships”. Specific behaviors that were considered a sign of danger were talking together at night, sleeping together, hugging, “joining their faces together.”
Another intersection of concern is the long historic association between lesbianism and prostitution, dating as early as Roman times (Lucian, Alciphron). Velasco notes the contrast laid out in a 16th century Italian text on women’s friendships by Firenzuola, that contrasts the “chaste” love between Laudomia Forteguerra and Duchess Margaret of Austria with the lascivious love of Sappho and of “the great prostitute Cecilia Venetiana.” But within the same century, Brantôme in France imputed a more sexual relationship to Margaret and Laudomia, and grouped them with a noted Spanish prostitute in Rome, Isabella de Luna, who kept a mistress. Moving our attention back to Spain, there were conflicting opinions whether the existence of legal brothels successfully kept men away from sodomy (by making women available) or whether one sin would breed other sins and thus men who frequented brothels were more likely to move on to sodomy.
The intersection of prostitution, love magic, and “medical” manual stimulation, as well as the possibilities of sex between women appear in Fernando de Rojas’ La Tragicomedia de Calisto y Melibea more commonly known as La Celestina. Velasco spends some time reviewing the details and implications of this work.
There was an association of witchcraft and lesbian desire, along with aspects of heresy. Several authors repeat a description from Leo Africanus of North African sahacat witches, who seduce or pleasure other women under the guise of medical treatment. (It isn’t clear whether the repetition of this motif is in reference to Africa or gives the appearance of generalizing it to Spain. Note that sahacat is from the Arabic root sahq with the same general meaning of rubbing as fricatrix.)
The chapter concludes with one last case study in Mexico of an accusation of lesbian seduction (or predation) by a female couple of their female boarder, who then used witchcraft to try to take revenge on the couple.