Female Pioneers: Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (12 November 1651 – 17 April 1694)

By Kathryn A. Kopple

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (Sister Joan Agnes of the Cross) was baptized on December 2, 1651 in what was then known as New Spain (or Mexico). She was entered in the registry as a “daughter of the church.” In other words, illegitimate. Her given name was Juana de Asbaje y Ramírez. She was the off-spring of a Spanish captain whereas her mother was criolla, a descendant of peninsular Spaniards. Raised by her mother’s family, she had access to tutors and numerous books. She could read by the age of three and write by the age of six. In 1669, she entered the Hieronymite order. Sor Juana remained there until her death while tending to victims of the plague. She was forty-three.

Legend.  Sor Juana incarnates various tropes: proto-Spanish-American woman of letters, Sapphic Spanish-American, Baroque Spanish-American poet, Spanish-American feminist. Sor Juana endures because she literally embodies in her person two worlds: the Spanish Golden Age and the oppressive realities of New Spain. Educated, brilliant, and intellectually curious, she made a reputation for herself among the elite that then governed the Spanish colony. Success of this scope could scarcely have been predicted for a woman born into a rigid caste-system: one in which she was at a triple disadvantage due to her gender, bastardy, and lack of financial independence.

Legacy. Sor Juana authored sonnets, plays, and composed the masterpiece “Primero sueño" (First Dream). To understand what she accomplished in the poem requires a comprehensive knowledge of Spanish baroque poetry, as well as Scripture and mythological references.  Numerous passages astonish, delight and demonstrate considerable intelligence. The poem is an extended dream which narrates the soul’s quest for wisdom unfettered by the body. Unfortunately, the corporeal chains that bind do not offer the soul complete freedom, which would naturally result in death. The final passage, in which the subject at last awakens at daybreak, is ambiguous. The soul, having exhausted all intuition and reason, withdraws back into the body without having attained its goal. Octavio Paz, who has written extensively on sor Juana, construes this as a paradox: “Primero sueño” is a visionary poem that results in “non-vision,” a spiritual experiment that breaks with the charismatic tradition (482).    

“Primero sueño” might have earned the admiration of scholars past and present as a skillful imitation "Soledades” (Solitudes) by the great Spanish poet Luis de Gongora had sor Juana not closed “Primero sueño” with the following: “…quedando a la luz más cierta/el mundo iluminado, y yo despierta.” A loose translation: “… the light becomes more lucid/the world illuminated, and I awaken.” The final line is self-referential, revealing that the speaker is female.

Hence this long poem, nine hundred and seventy-five lines, is regarded as one of her most personal. The poet not only writes of the soul but speaks from her own soul. As Paz states: “… sor Juana is ahead of her time: there is nothing comparable, in the 17th century, in women’s literature… in New Spain, a closed, peripheral society under the control of two jealous powers: the Catholic Church y the Spanish Monarchy (400).”

Scandal:  The Bishop of Puebla requests that Sor Juana write a response to a sermon attributed to the Portuguese Jesuit Antonio de Vierya.  She does as asked, and the work known as “La carta atenagórica” (Athenagorical Letter) is given to the bishop, who not only publishes sor Juana’s argument but publicly responds to the nun under the name sor Filotea. Three months later, sor Juana addresses sor Filotea’s criticisms in the “Respuesta” (Response), in which she defends herself against accusations of self-interest, arrogance, and ambition. “Lust for knowledge,” a phrase used by sor Filotea, must have alarmed her, as it suggests an unhealthy attachment to the humanist scholars sor Juana draws upon in her work. Sor Juana repeatedly asserts that her passion for learning, which came to her at an early age, is a God-given gift, and as such pure. She further states that she never sought to study in order to write (much less teach). Her writings were done at the request of others.  She makes a passing reference to “El sueño,” stating that she did indeed compose it for her own pleasure.  She reiterates her position that women should be taught to read, and nuns in particular, so they can have access to Scripture and theological writings. In addition, she expresses her dismay over the misunderstanding caused by the “Carta,” and that she wants no quarrel that would cause her to be brought to the attention of the Inquisition.  The “Respuesta” will not be published until after her death, by which time sor Juana will have dismantled her library—said to contain hundreds of books—and devoted herself to charitable causes.

Epiloque:  Sor Juana’s place in Latin American literature cannot be underestimated. Who could fail to admire her investigations into art, philosophy, theology, and science?  Her unflagging intellectual curiosity? Despite all efforts to silence her, it is sor Juana who has had the last word. Her trajectory through Latin American culture has not yet ended, and it will continue as long as we, her readers, engage her life and work.

Notes:

All translations of cited material are mine.

Paz, Octavio, Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz o Las trampas de la Fe (Fondo de Cultura Económica, 2000).

Kathryn Kopple is the author of Little Velásquez, a novel set in 15th century Spain

Female Pioneers: Queen Bertrada, Mother of a Dynasty

By Kim Rendfeld

In July 754, Pope Stephen consecrated a new dynasty to rule Francia: King Pepin, Queen Bertrada, and their sons Charles and Carloman. The most famous member of this family is Charles, today called Charlemagne, who would expand the Frankish empire so that it stretched from the Atlantic into today’s Hungary, from the North Sea to the northern half of Italy. However, Charles’s victories would not have been possible without Pepin and Bertrada seizing and securing the Frankish throne for themselves.

19th century's cast of a
13th century statue
of Bertrada at Versailles

For Bertrada and her husband, this moment of triumph with the pope at Saint Denis in Paris had been long coming. Four years earlier, then Mayor of the Palace Pepin portrayed the last Merovingian as a king who carried the title but did little else. After all, his delegates might have argued to Pope Zacharius (Stephen’s predecessor), Pepin and his older brother Carloman, another mayor of the palace who later retired to a monastery, were the ones who went to war in Bavaria, Alamannia, and Saxony.  Shouldn’t the guy who did the job also carry the title? The pope said yes. With that endorsement, Pepin staged a bloodless coup, sending the Merovingian and his son to the cloister.

Not only did the bishops and counts elect Pepin as king; they elevated Bertrada to queen, when there was no Merovingian precedent to do so. We don’t know whose idea this was, Pepin’s or Bertrada’s, but it shows how important Bertrada was to Pepin’s reign. With Bertrada as the consecrated queen, this signaled a new ruling family was in charge.

If this Frankish noblewoman from Laon was not as ambitious as her husband when they wed in 744, she certainly was in the years that followed. She play a key role in confining royal power to the immediate family. When Carloman emerged from an Italian monastery in 753 and traveled to Francia to advocate on behalf of the son entrusted to his brother and argue against an invasion of Lombardy, Bertrada might have been the one to keep him in line. As the Franks answered the pope’s plea and invaded Lombardy in 755, she stayed with her dying brother-in-law in Vienne. Carloman’s sons were later tonsured, rendering them unable to inherit.

To modern eyes, this looks power hungry, but with the Frankish tradition of rulers dividing the kingdom among surviving sons, limiting who could inherit also curtailed the possibility of civil war.

The elder Carloman was not Pepin’s only troublesome relative. For years, Pepin had fought literal battles with half-brother Grifo over the inheritance from their father, Charles Martel. One of them was over the Duchy of Bavaria, where Grifo captured Hiltrude, Pepin’s full sister, and her young son, Tassilo. After rescuing his sister and nephew, Pepin gave Grifo 12 counties in Neustria. Apparently, Grifo was unhappy with that arrangement and fled to Gascony, where he was later killed in 753.

Bertrada continued to play an active role in her husband’s reign. Together, they gave land to the abbey at Prüm, a way to seek divine favor, and she was responsible for hosting foreign ambassadors from Constantinople and Baghdad, the latter presenting dietary challenges.  She was with her husband with he died at Saint Denis in Paris in 768. On his deathbed, Pepin followed Frankish tradition and divided the kingdom between Charles and Carloman, ages 20 and 17 respectively. By that time, he had chosen Frankish wives for them.

Were past family troubles on Bertrada’s mind as her own sons were elevated to kingship? If Francia was going to keep the hard won province of Aquitaine or even expand its territory, the Franks could not be embroiled in a civil war between two young men. A year after their father’s death, there was tension between the brothers when Carloman did not help Charles suppress a revolt in Aquitaine.

I’ve read a couple of scholars who say Bertrada’s motivation for what happened next was to give Charles an advantage over Carloman, but I think even though she resided with Charles, Bertrada was trying to prevent her sons from destroying the kingdom she and her husband had acquired.

In 770, Bertrada and the king of Lombardy arranged a marriage between Charles and a Lombard princess. (That first wife was set aside.) This involved visiting Carloman at Seltz and Pope Hadrian in Rome to reassure them the alliance was a good idea. (For more about this, see my blog Outtakes http://kimrendfeld.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/bertrada-queen-mother-and-diplomat/.)

Bertrada and Pepin are buried
together at Saint Denis in Paris

Despite an assassination attempt on the pope by one of Carloman’s legates, the peace mostly held. That is, until Carloman died in December 771. Charles seized his brother’s lands, despite the fact that Carloman had two young sons.

The annalists don’t tell us Bertrada’s sentiments, but it is safe to say she sided with Charles over her grandsons and the daughter-in-law who would rule as regent. She might have been angry that Charles set aside the Lombard princess to marry Hildegard, who came from an important family in his dead brother’s lands. No doubt she saw the danger in insulting the ruling family of Lombardy, but her son’s action did unite the kingdom she and her husband had worked so hard for.

Wikimedia images in the public domain or used under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License

Sources

“Women at the Court of Charlemagne: A Case of Monstrous Regiment?” Janet L. Nelson, The Frankish World 750-900

“Family Structures and Gendered Power in Early Medieval Kingdoms: The Case for Charlemagne’s Mother,” Janet L. Nelson. Women Rulers in Europe: Agency , Practice and Representation of Political Powers (XII-XVIII)

“Pavia and Rome: The Lombard Monarchy and the Papacy in the Eighth Century,” Jan T. Hallenbeck, Transactions of the American Philosophical Society.

Charlemagne: Translated Sources, P.D. King

Carolingian Chronicles: Royal Frankish Annals and Nithard’s Histories, translated by Bernhard Walters Scholz with Barbara Rogers

Bertrada makes brief appearances in Kim Rendfeld’s novels, The Cross and the Dragon (2012, Fireship Press) and The Ashes of Heaven’s Pillar (forthcoming, Fireship Press). For more about Kim, visit kimrendfeld.com, her blog Outtakes of a Historical Novelist at kimrendfeld.wordpress.com, like her on Facebook at facebook.com/authorkimrendfeld, or follow her on Twitter at @kimrendfeld.

Female Pioneers: Writer Christine de Pizan

By Lisa J. Yarde

Christine de Pizan made her mark on history as a writer in the late medieval / early Renaissance period. She was not the first notable female writer; Anna Comnena and Hildegard von Bingen predated her, but Christine relied upon her writing as a means of financial support. Christine’s work stands out because of her defense of womanhood and the quest for gender equality centuries before the modern ideals of feminism. Her ideas could be considered revolutionary for a time in which European women were little more than the property of their fathers and husbands. Through her writing, she challenged the prevailing depiction of women in literature as seductresses of figures with loose morals, and she criticized misogynistic views offered by her mostly male counterparts. More importantly, her writing provided the means for her family's survival.

Christine and her son Jean

A Venetian by birth, Christine came from an educated family. Her father Tommaso di Benvenuto hailed from Pizanno, Italy, which is near Bologna where he completed his studies. When Christine was aged four, her family came to France where Tomasso served as the court astrologer, alchemist and physician to King Charles V at the monarch’s invitation. Christine’s father encouraged her education in classical languages, religion, history and literature although his wife disapproved, thinking intellectual pursuits did not suit a young lady. 

When she was 15, Christine married the royal secretary Etienne de Castel who was ten years her senior. In 1380, her father lost his patron with the death of Charles V. Christine and Etienne had three children. The couple seems to have been happy, as evidenced in some of Christine’s later writing. She experienced three great losses, the death of her father followed by that of her husband in 1390 of an epidemic, possibly the bubonic plague, while he was on a mission for King Charles VI, and lastly one of her children with Etienne died, leaving as survivors a daughter Marie and a son Jean. Although grief-stricken and widowed in her mid-20’s, Christine had to support her family, which included her mother and niece. There were complications with recovering the salary owed to Etienne.

Christine presents a book to Isabelle of Bavaria

To get by Christine turned to writing, first ballads as an ode to her lost husband. She wrote in Rondeau I: Like the Mourning Dove, “Like the mourning dove I'm now all alone, and like a shepherdless sheep gone astray, for death has long ago taken away, my loved one whom I constantly mourn.” Her prose became popular so that courtiers commissioned her work and so Christine became a professional writer. Between 1399 and 1405, the focus of her writing changed to politics, religion, history, morals and the role of women. Christine composed a history of her father's savior Charles V and his court, The Book of the Deeds and Good Character of King Charles V the Wise. The mutation of Fortune speaks eloquently of her personal history and struggle as she takes on the role of provider for her family; “Let me summarize, this moment, just who I am, what all this meant. How I, a woman, became a man by a flick of Fortune’s hand….” 

The City of Ladies

Her best-known writing, which examines the depiction of women, is The Book of the City of Ladies, which serves as a testament of the accomplishments of women laid out in three sections. She speaks of famous women throughout history and the means by which they demonstrated temerity, faithfulness, filial piety, or embraced martyrdom for their faith. It serves as a refutation of the unjust oppression or outright dismissal of women as contributors to society. The discussion occurs as through three personas Christine adopts, Lady Justice, Lady Reason, and Lady Rectitude. In each part, these three virtues lays out a plan for bolstering this city of ladies. Reason fortifies the city by dispelling outdated and misguided beliefs about women, Rectitude fills the city with examples of notable women, and Justice emphasizes the role of religion in women's lives.   

In her later years, Christine retired to a convent in Poissy, France. In 1429, she dedicated one of her last works to Joan of Arc and her struggles on behalf of France during the Hundred Years' War. She died at least a year later.

Source: A Medieval Woman's Mirror of Honor - The Treasury of the City of Ladies by Christine de Pizan, introduction by Charity Cannon Willard

Images: Wikimedia Commons, public domain.

Lisa J. Yarde writes fiction inspired by the medieval period. She is the author of historical novels set in medieval England and Normandy, The Burning Candle, based on the life of Isabel de Vermandois, and On Falcon's Wings, chronicling the star-crossed romance between Norman and Saxon lovers. Lisa has also written four novels in a six-part series set in Moorish Spain, Sultana,  Sultana’s Legacy, Sultana: Two Sisters, and Sultana: The Bride Price where rivalries and ambitions threaten the fragile bonds between members of a powerful family.