Author Archives: Alexandra Mayer

Re: Limits on Quilligan

To add to the pile, felt that Quilligan’s argument puts major emphasis on female writers (women who produce their own signs) and didn’t fully acknowledge how this emphasis has its limits. On page 19, Quilligan writes on Sedgwick:

Because she uses only the male-oriented understanding of the “traffic in women:’ Eve Sedgwick’s understanding of the homosocial space in which Shakespeare’s sonnets circulated among men in the early modern period makes female agency in that genre impossible to articulate. Lorna Hutson, for example, examines the difficulties facing the Renaissance poet Aemila Lanyer, who attempted to use sonnet discourse to female patrons.

The problem I see here is that Aemilia Lanyer does not have a body of work anywhere as close to as large as Shakespeare’s; that no female Renaissance writer has a body of work that compares to that of the male Renaissance writers; that eventually, a scholar is going to run out of works written by women fast. Quilligan paints it as a 1:1 ” Segdwick uses Shakespeare and Hutson uses Lanyer.” But there just are not that many Aemelia Lanyers. This isn’t to say that I think this is an unfair critique of Segdwick — we should make as much use of the works written by women as we can, especially when formulating theories that are about the subjugation of women. But perhaps Quilligan needed to acknowledge that, at some point, there is a scholarly necessity to read women through men, as unfortunate as it may be.

Lyric Poetry in Traub

“Philips’s love poetry attempts to articulate a homoerotic subject through the fictions and temporalities of lyric expression, deploying the lyric voice to disrupt those relationships between ideology, causality, and sequence that, in the drama and prose narrative, propel the plot teleologically toward a marital conclusion.” (Traub, 251)

This passage from Traub’s essay really stuck out to me. It makes a very subtle, but strong claim about the power lyric poetry in the Renaissance. Although this course is disabusing me of the notion, I definitely do still fall into the trap of seeing Renaissance poetry/all pre-Modern poetry as  “staid”, more “formulaic”, more literally formal, etc. etc. But here Traub is ascribing lyric poetry the power to break down patterns of ideology and causality that other genres do not quite have — which makes it a rather revolutionary form.

Catholic sensibility?

For my third blog post in a row (yikes), I have a stray thought/question: doesn’t the corporeality and the baroqueness of Donne’s work make him feel like a poet of a rather Catholic sensibility? As opposed to Spenserian sanitized Protestantism. It’s interesting because, as we talked about in class, Donne literally was a Catholic poet until he converted to the Anglican Church. But it seems to me that the Catholicism sticks around in his work. Even in the Holy Sonnets, which are substantially less sexual and bodily than the poems we read for last class, the paradoxes that he plays with and the richness of his ideas+language lend the poems a sort of opulence. 

(Plus, the Holy Sonnets sequence play so perfectly into the trope of Catholic guilt. Holy Sonnet VII, IX, etc.)

 

Re: Sarah’s post “Impediments to Marriage”

(I posted a response to this a week ago but for some reason I’m not seeing it showing up in my posts so I’m going to try to re-write it to the best of my memory! Sorry to backtrack!!)

Going a little further along in the passage you quoted, I thought there was some interesting language on what happens if someone presents an impediment: “then the Solemnization must be deferred unto such time as the truth to be tried”

My instinct is to read “tried” in the sense of a trial, which is to say that they’re going to adjudicate the “truth”. It’s such a weird turn of phrase to me because it seems as though the truth is linked to the person declaring the impediment — which enough to stop the Solemnization — but then the truth needs to be judged. If it’s the truth, isn’t it just … the truth? Wouldn’t the truth theoretically be the result of the judgment? I’m probably leaning too heavily on the legal-ness at work here (which I know nothing about w/r/t modern day, and so obviously even less w/r/t Renaissance England). It’s also likely that I’m conflating “truth” too much with the impediment, and perhaps they mean it in the broader, more expected sense of the truth of the matter. But still, the “truth” seems to be put into this liminal position of being enough to stop the proceedings, but not enough to be impervious to judgment, which is to say (very weirdly) the true truth.

 

Wit

There’s a really amazing one-act play called Wit by Margaret Edson about a Donne scholar dying of ovarian cancer. It won the Pulitzer prize for Drama in 1999, and was turned into an HBO movie in 2001. Here’s a link to the full movie on YouTube — warning: it’s super super sad.

In Wit, there’s a scene protagonist, Vivian Bearing, recalls an encounter she had with her mentor about the punctuation in the last line of Holy Sonnet 10. The problem is that Vivian wrote a paper using an edition of the poem that was “hysterically” punctuated (“And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die!”, whereas the mentor prefers a poem with much less punctuation (“And death shall be no more, death thou shalt die”). Incidentally, our edition punctuates the line somewhere in between.

If you want to watch the scene, here’s a link to it directly. It starts at roughly 6:50 and goes on for 3 minutes.

I can’t speak to the scholarly validity of the play’s claim, although do I find the interpretation compelling. What I like about this scene is how concretely it illustrates how seemingly minor differences in manuscript, in editions can significantly alter the reading of a poem. We talked about this quite a lot when we were reading Shakespeare’s sonnets, and I’d forgotten about this scene’s existence until I made the mistake of rewatching Wit in the library.

Viola as Cesario (Twelfth Night) vs. Viola as Sebastian (She’s the Man)

I rewatched She’s The Man recently (in my opinion—still p good, but doesn’t hold up THAT well?), and I noticed that when Viola cross-dresses, she takes up Sebastian’s name, as opposed to taking on the new name of Cesario. The plot of She’s The Man actually demands that she takes on Sebastian’s name (because she wants to take his place at boarding school so she can play men’s soccer), but it struck me as a difference that actually significantly changes how we think about Viola’s new identity when she presents as a man. In Twelfth Night, the change to Cesario is the invention of a completely new male identity. In She’s The Man, she’s not inventing a new male identity so much as performing the identity of her brother. In this way, She’s The Man seems to sort of sanitize or un-trouble the gender complications of  Twelfth Night (which makes sense because it’s mainstream Hollywood). But I think this also speaks to the lack of resolution in the final act of Twelfth Night, because Olivia’s marriage to Sebastian does not actually resolve the fact that she has been in love with Cesario. Cesario and Sebastian are twins, but they are not perfect substitutions for one another. They have two different names, but still two different identities.

Re: Sarah’s “The Role of Comedy in Greenblatt”

One distinction I would make between comedy and the sonnets is the embodiment of performativity. As we (sorta) talked about in class, the sonnets are performances in that they can be thought of as dramatic monologues. But the performativity is more diffused—it exists either solely on the page, or in the aural experience of someone reading the poem out loud. An interesting thing happens there where the reader inherently and I think unintentionally takes up that performance—but that seems different to me than actually taking on a role for a play. For the comedies, the performance is an embodied performance. It is deliberately written to exist beyond the page. That doesn’t mean we should discount the performativity that exists only on the page—because there definitely are plays that are never performed, and perhaps never intended to be performed—but in the case of Shakespeare, I would choose to privilege the performance over the page.

faerie queene video game???

I found a video of a Faerie Queene video game while I was doing some googling about Ollyphant (see my previous post). The game starts at around 5:00.

 

It was made by a bunch of students in a course at Vanderbilt. I think it’s a very cool and natural interpretation of this text—and clearly could be commercially successful, what with the entire Elder Scrolls series basically being the Faerie Queene, but with a worse storyline.

(This probably shouldn’t count as one of my official posts. I just wanted to share it because it’s interdisciplinary fun.)

 

 

Incest taboo in the Renaissance

In Book 3 Canto XI, Britomart has a brief run in with a giant, Ollyphant, and the Norton mentions that Ollyphant and his sister (also a giant) had an incestuous relationship and that this was Bad. But it made me curious about the incest taboo during the Renaissance period—is it about the same as today, or are there any significant differences in terms of how we might understand it?  (Strong feeling that it’s going to be the latter.)

 

I did do a cursory Google search of this and there didn’t seem to be any smaller articles on the subjects—only books.

 

So I guess I am wondering if anyone (coughProfessorKitchcough) might have an answer to this off the top of their heads?