Author Archives: Emma Bezilla

Re: Tis a Pity

Similarly to Raisa, I also looked at ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore in terms of doubling and mirroring. In Act 1, Scene 2 when Annabella and Giovanni confess their love to each other, they recite the same lines to each other in what resembles a mock marriage ceremony. She kneels first and says “On my knees, / Brother, even by our mother’s dust, I charge you, / Do not betray me to your mirth or hate; / Love me, or kill me, brother” (1.2.243–246). Giovanni then repeats the same lines, calling her “Sister,” except he changes “our mother’s dust” to “my mother’s dust” (1.2.247). Based on this simple word change in otherwise identical speeches, it seems that Annabella is more closely holding on to their endogamous status, whereas Giovanni claims the family ancestry for himself. In terms of Quilligan’s argument, it seems to me that this small difference shows the extent to which Annabella is conscious of keeping herself within the family and claiming her sociopolitical connections.

Private vs. Public in Act 1, Scene 3

In Act 1, Scene 3 when Cardinal, Ferdinand, and the Duchess are discussing the possibility of her remarrying, the two brothers use several arguments to try to talk the Duchess out of remarrying, though she sees right through them. At one moment, Ferdinand says to her: “Your darkest actions, nay your privatest thoughts, / Will come to light” (1.3.23-24). This reminded me of the scientia sexualis discussed by Foucault, which centers around the ritual of confessing ones sexual transgressions and desires, which first requires some level of secrecy. Ferdinand suggests a forced revealing of her choosing a new husband/sexual partner, not allowing her any chance at privacy in the court life. Not just her actions but her “privatest thoughts” will be revealed implying a sort of forced confession. I was interested in how this notion will develop throughout the rest of the play, for though the Duchess is married in secret, it certainly cannot remain private for long.

Re: Agency with God

I’m also interested in how the poet’s political/religious beliefs relate to their portrayal of God/Christ as either bodily or more spiritual. Crashaw, who converted to Catholicism, uses very physical descriptions of the body of Christ, which contributes to the eroticism of the texts. The short “Blessed be the Paps which Thou has Sucked” ends with the strange line: “The Mother then must suck the Son” (4). This offers an somewhat erotically-charged representation of salvation through the body of both the Virgin Mary and the dying Christ. Crashaw’s conversion to Catholicism affected his imagery as he focuses more on the corporal representation of the divine.

Religion & Domination

Mueller talks about the power imbalance in heterosexual couples as shown through the perspectives of the male speakers, and I was interested in how the power differences translate to his religious works like the Holy Sonnets. In relation to God, the male speaker is no longer the dominant figure and instead becomes the subordinate. His subservient position seems more motivated by “fear rather than love of God” (148). Because at the time God was often thought of as a male being, I thought it would be interesting to look at the speaker-God relationship in light of other homosocial/erotic/sexual relationships that involve power dynamics, such as the pederastic master-servant relationship. In Holy Sonnet 14, for example, the speaker—who is, as a Christian, a servant of God—asks for God to “enthrall” (13) and “ravish” (14) him, which has a sexual connotation of domination. Donne’s use of sexual language in a religious context offers a slightly confusing understanding of sexuality and power in relation to Christianity.

Sexual Insecurity and “The Choice of Valentines”

In “The Choice of Valentines,” Nashe uses vivid descriptions and imagery to engage the male reader. While the poem’s plot and language make it very erotic and pleasing to his contemporary intended audience, he also uses humor to poke fun at the narrator and his inability to please Francis in the end. Nashe humorously addresses the insecurities of male sexuality, such as fear about one’s ability to satisfy a woman, and he combines this wit with explicitly erotic imagery and dialogue. I am curious as to how contemporary male readers would have received this poem as it is both seduces the reader and also forces him to face his sexual insecurities in face of a woman who is more sexually competent than he.

Sir Toby and Maria

Greenblatt discusses how the revelation that Viola and Sebastian come from a noble family solves the issue of socially-mismatched couples so that social order is restored in end. Indeed, Malvolio, who sought to rise in the ranks by marrying Olivia, is cast aside and his aspirations ignored and refused. But Sir Toby and Maria marry even though the former is a nobleman and the latter, a servant. Even then, their marriage is only briefly touched upon when Fabian mentions it during his explanation of the Malvolio prank. Is their marriage acceptable because it’s not one of the main couples, or because Sir Toby does not behave like a noble, or because Maria somehow rises in status through her wit? It seems to me this marriage is the only one in which the two characters actually know each other for who they are, and it is the one that does not neatly fit into the social standards of the time.

The Fair Youth (re: Theme of Sonnets in Twelfth Night)

I was also struck by how much of the play contained elements of the Fair Youth sequence of sonnets, not just in terms of the sonnets imploring the Fair Youth to bear children. Critics have argued about the nature of the relationship between the sonnets’ speaker and the Fair Youth, for in some it seems more platonic and in others (such as Sonnet 18) it is more explicitly romantic.Throughout the Globe production, the relationship between Duke Orsino and Caesario toes the line between platonic friendship and sexual romance. Orsino is drawn to Caesario, touched by the youth’s effeminate beauty, and in Act 2, Scene 4 of the production, he creates a physical intimacy with Caesario while listening to Feste’s song. This scene reminded me of Sonnet 20 in which the speaker laments that the Fair Youth is not a woman, an idea that is also reflected in Viola’s hinting at her love for the Duke in the same scene. I am curious as to how the intimacy enacted on the stage would have been received by the audience’s of Shakespeare’s time.

Re: Incest and the Greek Gods

After reading Alex’s and Natalie’s posts about incest and the Spenser’s view of the Greek Gods, I, too, was interested in the contemporary cultural attitudes towards the Gods and their sexual deeds. Yes, the Goddesses are revered for their virtues, but they also commit sexual transgressions like incest (Juno/Hera and Jove/Zeus are married but also siblings). The Gods’ acts depicted on the tapestries are mostly tales of trickery, rape, and beastiality, which would tie them to the immoral deeds of the incestuous Ollyphant and Argante. It seems to me that Spenser uses classical references as it suits him—either to elevate virtues or to condemn misdeeds. For example, he uses the character of Arthur as a virtuous figure, who in classical mythology committed incest (though it resulted in his downfall).

Belphoebe

I was intrigued by the narrator’s praise of Belphoebe at the end of Book 3, Canto 5. When Spenser was writing The Faerie Queene, Queen Elizabeth was known for her cult following that focused on her status as a virgin. Here, Belphoebe is exalted for her “chastity and vertue virginall, / That shall embellish more [her] beautie bright” (3.5.53.6–7), meaning that her chastity only makes her more beautiful. It seems that virginity gets its value from the way men deem it a quality; somewhat ironically, being chaste makes the woman more beautiful and revered in men’s eyes.

Sonnet 62

Sonnet 62—in which the speaker examines his own narcissism, including both external and internal beauty—contains many repetitive “s” sounds throughout: “self-love,” “soul,” “glass,” etc. The slippery sound of the “s” relates the feel of the poem to the subject of narcissism, connecting the self-involved words together as the speaker struggles with his own acknowledged “sin” (1). I thought it was interesting that the only line that doesn’t contain the “s” sound is line 10, in which the speaker acknowledges the decay of his external beauty as he ages. Realizing that he has become “Beated and chapped with tanned antiquity” (10), the speaker temporarily abandons the smoothly-connected “s” sounds in exchange for more arresting “b,” “p,” and “t” sounds, which bring the flow to a halt just as the speaker’s mirror gives him a reality check.