Gendered Voices: Medieval Saints and Their Interpreters
Ancient and Medieval
Gendered Voices: Medieval Saints and Their Interpreters.
Edited by Catherine Mooney. (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania
Press. 1999. Pp. xiii, 277. $39.95 clothbound; $19.95 paperback.)
This collection of essays manages to do what other collections only
claim to do: to make a single, coherent argument. The premise of
the collection, suggested by Caroline Bynum in her foreword, is
that saints together with their biographers and audiences socially
construct themselves. Historians of the 1970's dealt with this concept
by synthesizing saints' histories to find recoverable patterns;
in the 1980's, scholars reduced saints' vitae to single-case
microhistories. This group of essays focuses on female saints of
the later Middle Ages and asserts that women's own holy voices are
recoverable, as is the process of negotiation between female and
male religious that led to the recording of women's vitae. Mooney,
the volume's editor, sets out the three main questions addressed by the
volume: How to get at the voices of female saints and male interpreters
in co-authored texts? How are these various voices gendered? And what
were the influences of genre upon the lives of medieval saints?
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Every essay in the book treats the same process whereby a woman and man
(or men) worked together to produce texts about saints. Barbara Newman
treats the versions of Hildegard of Bingen's life, beginning with
Hildegard's own autobiographical material and the subsequent revisions
practiced by her three biographers. Anne Clark, working on Elisabeth of
Schönau, describes the mutual dynamic by which Elisabeth and her
brother Ekbert produced a sometimes conflicting picture of Elisabeth
as religious activist and passive female mystic. Catherine Mooney's
extraordinary essay compares St. Clare's own vision of herself as
an imitator of Jesus with later, dubious texts attributed to Clare
which cast her instead as a feminized imitator of Francis; Franciscan
writers were determined to refashion Clare and her followers as typical
female religious practicing imitatio Mariae rather than active
practitioners of the imitatio Christi like Francis himself. Amy
Hollywood uses her study of Beatrice of Nazareth to criticize historians'
identification of women's religiosity with the physical body. She shows
how women resisted this form of religious experience prescribed to them
by male-authored texts. While male authors exteriorized her interior
ecstasies as bodily experiences, Beatrice's own texts insisted upon
an intense interiority that freed her soul entirely from all bodily
restraints.
John Coakley, meanwhile, shows how Christine of Stommeln and Peter of
Dacia worked together to create a two-point program of sanctity for
Christine. Peter cast her as a bride of Christ, but Christine herself
focused on her direct mystical contact with God. Peter theologized
and appropriated Christine's experience by casting himself, in his
writings, as sister of the bride. Together, the two presented insider
and outsider versions of Christine's sanctity. Frank Tobin analyzes
the co-operative vita produced by Henry Suso and his assistant,
Elsbeth Stagel. In a reverse of the usual process, Elsbeth's writings
contributed to Suso's own auto-hagiography. Although modern scholars
take Suso's reports of Elsbeth's help as a topos, Tobin insists
upon Elsbeth's actual participation in the text. Karen Scott, in
her essay on Catherine of Siena and her confessor Raymond of Capua,
contrasts Catherine's 300-plus letters, which portray her as a woman of
direct political speech and action, with Raymond's organization of her
mystical experiences into a normative narrative, in which a woman dead
to the world was inspired by God to save souls. As Scott points out,
scholars have previously assumed that we can amalgamate such different
perspectives on Catherine or have denied the possibility of recovering
the authentic voice of Catherine. Perhaps, Scott suggests, Catherine and
Raymond portrayed different sides of the great mystic and politicker;
perhaps Raymond wrote of things too personal for Catherine herself to
mention in letters, and maybe Catherine showed herself too aggressive a
participant in religious affairs to make an acceptable saint. Finally,
Dyan Elliott's essay on Dorothea of Montau and John Marienwender tells
how the holy widow was able to articulate her spirituality only after
the interrogation of John, who gave meaning to her life of widowed
penitence through his written words.
[End Page 498]
In all these essays, men translated women's lives into the Latin
"home" of literacy and truth. They exercised the kind of scholarly
editorializing that shaped and sometimes wholly revised women's
own experiences and texts. In the process, these male interpreters
created the kind of late medieval female saint and mystic so familiar
to scholars today: the women whose inner ecstasies took somatic form,
and who practiced Christianity in a way that men professed not to
understand. By writing these women as "different" from male saints,
scholars, and mystics, the writers of women's vitae created peculiarly
feminine saints. Yet, the essays in this book insist, we can disentangle
the threads of women's own influence upon the shapes of men's writing,
and even recover the negotiation that made the vitae. In the practice, we
can even catch echoes of the real voices of real women, thus questioning
the "typical" body-oriented woman mystic of the period.
If there is a flaw in this volume, it is that each essay makes much the
same argument by the same methods as all the others. Any single essay
would serve to enlighten a student of hagiography about the mistakes we
all have made in reading women's vitae. Any one of these pieces would
enlighten a graduate student as to the important methodology informing
the volume. If I had to choose the best of the lot for a graduate
seminar, I would point my students to the essays of Newman, Clark,
Mooney, and Scott, but all the pieces here contribute new information
about individual female saints and male writers. Bynum is quite right
in her foreword: the entire volume demonstrates that the study of
hagiography leads the way in the development of historical methodology,
particularly the relation between men's and women's voices in texts
from the past, and the frustrating intertwining of gender and genre.