Archive for the ‘Humanism’ Category

Daughters of humanism

Tuesday, 30 January 2007

Dr. Ivanova brought up a critical point that I had been wondering about while reading about Petrarch and his learned colleagues: what about women in the age of humanism? Were they entirely relegated to another plane?  According to Dr. Ivanova, yes, they were. Simply put, there was no “womankind” in “mankind,” at least not in matters of “letters” and certainly not for the majority of women. 

This got me to thinking on the way home (much cogitating is done in my car!) about the women poets we discussed in class. What about their background?  How did women’s poetry from that age even survive to our times?  From the brief notes in class, these women clearly had a superior education, far superior to the average woman in those times.  Were they all really spinsters, nuns,  widows, or courtesans? I decided to read a bit more on a few of them: 

 colonna.jpg

Vittoria Colonna, 1492-1547:   A noblewoman who indeed received a privledged education. Widowed when she was in her early thirties, the Marchioness of Pescara refused many offers of marriage and began to produce the Rime spirituali which characterize her works. Though she never re-married, she developed a solid friendship with Michelangelo who made drawings for and of her (see above) and even wrote sonnets to her.  HER POEMS: In class we discussed how women in those times could not write of true physical passion, but had to sublimate it through nature or in some spiritual form.  Though the final poem is clearly religious in nature (“… a different kind of strength makes us see Christ’s endurance on the cross”), the second is surely a reference to physical desire, to wit:

 Though I’ve dwelt upon his spirit, his body is no less welcome to me: our chaste real love would’ve been a passing shallow thing if passion had been left out

While it is hardly erotic, there is also clearly an admission to physical attraction.  It is, of course, expressed with the utmost taste and discretion, no doubt befitting a woman of breeding in those times, a woman raised with a classical humanist/Renaissance education.

Veronica Gambara, 1485-1550:  She was the daughter of the Count of Brescia, which explains the subject of the poem she writes extolling the virtues of that city.  Her humanistic education was incredibly well-rounded and included Greek as well as Latin language, literature and philosophy. And while her poetry (or at least the one included in the readings) may have clearly sublimated passionate love for the oppostite sex, this woman, who also became a widow, was hardly a hermit writing little verses for no one but herself to read: her poetry was becoming known by her late teens.  

After being widowed, Veronica took over her husband’s duties which included ruling over the state of Corregio near Parma.  During those years when Italy became a common battleground for warring factions between France and the Hapsburg rulers, Veronica tried valiantly to become a peace-maker, and even addressed many of her poems to anyone who might further her cause.  Why? According to one account, because “she knew that the Renaissance princes, like the ancient Romans they patterned themselves after, did care what poets thought of them.”  Brilliant!  Here was a woman whose writing was not only accepted in her time, but became a political bargaining tool.  Or as she purportedly told Cosimo de’ Medici: [many rulers] “live on in splendor in our memories” only because poets praised them.  I am convinced that this shrewd humanist who wrote “to those who can hear their hearts beat as they return home, long absent, longing to see beloved eyes” was quite possibly using such words as a cloak for feelings that went beyond the “family and friends” that she ascribes them to.

I am too tired to continue right now, but that was enough to make me realize that this is probably only the tip of the iceberg. If you want to read more about them, I have put links on the sidebar in the author categories. I find it fascinating, and really a necessity to understand as much as we can about the lives of some of these writers.  In the greater scheme of things, they are not going to be the highlight of this course, especially considering all the topics we are going to cover, but they are probably among the most enigmatic simply because of their status as women in an age where very few stood out, and the ones who did were from a privileged class.  I think this will provide an interesting perspective for future readings.