Giovanni, unlike Annabella, refuses to repent for his violations against Christianity. I am particularly interested in how he morphs Annabella into a godlike figure in this last image. He refers to her as being able to give “grace”–a particularly Christian idea referring to God’s forgiveness of people (5.6.104). Here Annabella is able to give grace, rather than God, demonstrating Giovanni’s further lack of Christianity.
Quilligan’s overarching thesis–that incest gives women agency to halt the traffic in women–seems to be only applicable to very particular forms of incest. Quilligan herself notes that greater agency is exercised by women already in positions of social power (for example, in her discussion on the frequency of women writers to be Tories) (20). I would question whether it is the incest that gives women social power, or rather the fact that they already hold social power that allows for the endogamous transgression. She gives the example of the queen Semiramis who had sex with her son. But Semiramis was already powerful before committing incest with her son–incest here may be a way for her to consolidate her power but it is not the cause of it. Additionally, Quilligan’s discussion seems to ignore the way patriarchal conventions can instead lead to incest and instead take away women’s agency. The control of a father, brother (as in the Duchess of Malfi) or other figure may be able to use his position of authority to subjugate a female member of the family, particularly if the woman does not have her own source of power in society. Incest then may halt the homosocial bonding of the traffic in women, but it will not necessarily grant women agency.
In Donne’s “Sappho to Philaenis,” I was, similarly to Jae-Yeon, interested in the idea of the naturalism of people who look alike being sexually attracted to each other: “And, O, no more; the likeness being such, Why should they not alike in all parts touch?” (48-49). It has made me think of the common cliche that “opposites attract,” and how this phrase seems to naturalize heterosexuality It is interesting to me how science becomes invoked in both formulations. For example, lesbianism here seems natural because of an idea that ‘like attracts like’ in nature. At the same time, heterosexuality often is made normative because the idea of opposing forces in nature being drawn together, like magnets. I think this shows how the idea of ‘naturalism’ is just as constructed as conceptions of sexuality.
Hi Sarah and Jae-Yeon,
I am also interested in the discussion of Christ and the homosocial bond Rambuss identifies. I think that in addition to what both of you are mentioning about the connection between Christ and embodiment, there is another element relating to the bonds between the people themselves. It seems to me that religion justifies atypical love bonds between couples that might not normally be sanctioned, for example, the love between the two missionary women. I would guess that mediating their love through a more sanctioned medium (God) allows for society to be more likely to accept these non-traditional loves.
Crashaw’s poem “On the Wounds of Our Crucified Lord” struck me for the descriptions of Christ’s body parts. The metaphors surrounding his wounds reminded me of the way poets liked to list the different body parts of their lover to compare them to other objects (blazon). I think an inspired technique is being used here, particularly in the second stanza.
Hi Emma,
I am also interested in the issue you brought up about how sexuality configures into the master/servant relationship. Based on the Holy Sonnets that we read and the ones you brought up, as well as some of the other texts we have read where this conceit is used, I believe that subordination is put into the language of the feminine and the domination into the language of the masculine. Even when the subordinated person is actually a man, the ideas used to describe the individual in their subordination seem particularly feminized.
When reading “The Flea,” I was interested in its seeming transformation of the carpe diem poem. While the theme is similar (encouraging someone to have sex), the style and metaphor used in the poem is so incredibly different. There is nothing pastoral about this poem, rather it is entirely based on the concept of the flea’s ability to suck blood.
It was interesting to me the emphasis on obedience in these different texts, requiring obedience of both wives and subjects. The Book of Homilies made rebellion into a sacrilege, I assume because Cranmer was significantly worried about the threat of it. It seems then that the reason obedience was emphasized for wives may have also been for similar reasons–perhaps obedience for women was such a focus in part because men were worried what would happen if they were to rebel?
Natalie I think you are raising an important point here. To me, the love Antonio expresses for Sebastian seems to me to be acceptable based on class-differences that appear throughout the play. Antonio as a person of a lower class than Sebastian adores him and the love of a servant for his master seems to be more acceptable. For example, nobody really questions Cesario’s love for Orsino because this is also a master-servant relationship.
I am curious about the word “element” that appears so many times throughout the play. For example, the Fool particularly calls attention to this word in 3.1 where he says “who you are and what you would are out of my welkin–I might say ‘element,’ but the word is overworn” (3.1.56-58). My guess is that this has to do with people’s internal natures and the fact that it is so difficult to see a person’s actual “element” throughout the play–the gender bending but also the numerous other disguises people take on throughout the scenes.