The Lieutenant Nun: Transgenderism, Lesbian Desire, and Catalina de Erauso (review)

Since the mention in 1625 of the existence of an original copy of the autobiography of the Basque noblewoman Catalina de Erauso (1592-1650), there have been many different versions of her life's adventures and misfortunes available to readers and spectators alike from the early modern times to the beginning of the twenty-first century. The story of a young girl, escapee from the limiting walls of a convent, disguised in male garments and determined to join (and to fight against, if necessary) the legions of brave warriors already established on the seductive and dangerous shores of the New World, grew in popularity proportionally to the development of the mystery surrounding her sexual identity. From the moment that the first news pamphlet or relación spoke in 1613 of the existence of a valiant and admirable Lieutenant Nun, or Monja Alférez, Erauso stopped being just a brave woman dressed in men's clothing to become an enigmatic transgressive female figure ready to be used by any cause that needed to attract the public's attention with the retelling of her ambivalent legend.

The lack of an autograph or original copy of Erauso's autobiography contributed to the publication of multiple versions of the manuscript over the years; versions that, for one reason or another, have adapted, changed, added, or omitted important passages of the life of the Monja Alférez, also changing in the process the essence of this intriguing figure of the seventeenth century. In fact, the existence of so many versions and adaptations of the manuscript and the notable variations between them has also led many literary critics to develop serious doubts about the authorship of the autobiography, which also calls into question the function of the document as a testimony of the role of women as writers during the early modern period.

Through careful analysis of the different documents produced during the past four hundred years, Sherry Velasco demonstrates that what all narratives have in common to a certain extent is the tendency to "'correct' Erauso's same-sex desire by rehabilitating the transgressive lesbian, or by presenting homoeroticism in terms of a heterosexual configuration" (xii). In any case, Velasco's innovative study privileges the analysis of the representation of (or the lack of) the lesbian desire inscribed in the autobiography and its many versions, evaluating the effects of this transgendered spectacle of the nun on the public and the reader during its nearly four centuries of existence.

In the first chapter of her study, Velasco introduces the figure of the Monja Alférez as a seventeenth century monstrous spectacle (a woman and a man, but neither of them; a nun and a soldier, but neither of them; a heroic figure and a cruel criminal, but neither of them) that saved her persona from being completely dismissed by the different dominant discourses of the time (medical, religious, legal) precisely because of the very essence of the monstrosity that she represented. Despite being described in the documents of the time as a "eunuch, a pseudo-hermaphrodite, and a masculine woman" (31), there was no evidence that Erauso possessed the physical characteristics of both sexes, as other icons did. Nevertheless, Velasco goes on to confirm that the fact that Erauso was determined to eliminate her breasts, and not only to disguise them temporarily, was a sign of her intention to eradicate her natural gender identifiers permanently, separating herself from the culturally accepted representation on the stage of the woman dressed as a man, and placing herself on the edge of monstrosity, worthy to become the focus of the public gaze, provoking a mixture of fear and attraction.

As Velasco notes, the figure of the warrior woman does not appear only under the name of Monja Alférez; during her time many other women opted to exchange their female robes for masculine costumes guided by different interests and purposes, from purely...