Women in Shakespeare: A Dictionary (review)

This is a rich and inventive book, offering much more than the dictionary function suggested by its title. It is astonishingly thorough and some of the fullest of its entries, such as those on mother, queen, sister, wife, witch, and woman, are in effect miniessays. Although the Sonnets and the other poems have not been overlooked, it is perhaps fair to say that the book’s heart lies with the drama, and the extensive cross-referencing means that in some cases, most notably female friendships or relationships between sisters, the book offers not merely glosses but developed critical readings.

At the outset, Findlay explains that her entries are “not character studies; instead, the name and its meanings are a starting point from which to cast a particular light on the role” (xii). Indeed, the book does not confine itself to characters from Shakespeare but includes real women such as Anna of Denmark and Elizabeth I; goddesses and other mythological figures such as Venus, Diana, and Dido; and metaphorical terms for women such as jewel. Items of clothing such as apron, fan, and gown receive full, informative, and surprisingly revealing entries. There are entries, too, for family terms such as aunt, mother, and sister and status terms such as dowager, as well as for things that women might do such as sew and bake (although Findlay rightly reminds us that commercial bakers were typically men). Abstract nouns are not forgotten: for instance, there is a long entry on beauty. Parts of the body exclusive to or particularly associated with the female, such as belly, hand (when given in marriage), and breast are treated, although I fear the definition of breast as a “soft protuberance(s) on the chest” (56) has the potential to raise a snigger in students, and indeed it is hard to believe that a definition was really required. Other perhaps unexpected but revealing entries include night, nothing, Earth, England, patience, honest, and revenge.

Each entry concludes with suggestions for judiciously chosen secondary reading, the compilation of which prompts Findlay to observe in her introduction that writing on Shakespeare’s female characters was particularly in vogue in the nineteenth century and during second-wave feminism. Findlay herself is firmly feminist in her readings and glosses, for example, complaining that to give birth is only meaning 41 of bear in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) and providing long entries on commodity and gift as terms applied to women, as well as the more predictable tongue, while a perhaps unexpected entry on despair notes that this is personified as female in The Comedy of Errors. The tone is typified by her unequivocal conclusion that “it is men who make whores, as Shakespeare’s texts amply show” (440). She is suitably informed by recent scholarship, noting the spelling and probable derivation of the alternative form Innogen, rather than the traditional Imogen, and that Shakespeare’s authorship of the Hecate scenes is doubtful.

I have one or two caveats. I’m not sure that it’s helpful to gloss and cross-reference bracelet as “an ornamental ring or band worn around the arm” (54). Also, although the volume as a whole uses the name formats of the Riverside Shakespeare, there are one or two inconsistencies, most notably in the spelling of Aemilia: on pages 97–98, students might struggle to notice that the first A of Aemelia Lanyer is not in boldface and that the cross-reference is actually to the (differently spelled) Emilia. For such a long book, there are very few typos; I did note taudry (18) followed by tawdry (19); caul is consistently spelled with an -e, although the OED acknowledges only caul; and Jean Addison Roberts (121, 184, 451) should be Jeanne Addison Roberts. Nevertheless, this is an impressive achievement and a very rewarding read.