"Violence to Women, Women's Rights, and Their
Defenders in Medieval German Literature"
Albrecht Classen, University of Arizona
(Author Résumé)
(This is a paper delivered at the DMA Fall Meeting in Philadelphia, Sept. 2002. I hope to publish it in a volume of individual articles sometime in 2003)
Abstract
Contrary to popular opinions about the "dark Middle Ages" when women were allegedly fully subjugated by a patriarchal system, this paper will demonstrate that medieval women's history needs to be approached from a much more complex perspective. Undoubtedly, many male writers openly portrayed as sexual objects and as chattel, but men seem to have done so at all times. By contrast, many of the literary documents particularly from the high Middle Ages indicate a very strong movement to combat misogyny and the
ill-treatment of women. Not only did courtly love idealize women and place them on a pedestal, courtly culture at large appears to have established a highly interesting relationship between the sexes. This paper will examine a selection of texts where women suffer from violence, but where this very violence is severely criticized by male writers who emerge as strong defenders of women's rights and equality between the sexes. Misogyny did not come to an end, nor did violence against women disappear (witness problems in our modern age!), but the courtly world seems to have provided an intriguing social model for the peaceful coexistence of men and women and projected love as the fundamental vehicle for the development of mutual respect and acknowledgment.
I. Fact or Fiction, History or Myth?
One of the common notions about women in the Middle Ages, shared both by the general public and some of current scholarship alike, pertains to their social, political, military, and economic position. Women were considered either as chattel, malleable objects in the hand of their fathers, husbands, brothers, and other male relatives, or as venerable, god-like creatures, either Eve or Mary, both in the religious and courtly-erotic context. Another wide-spread opinion relates to women's deplorable experience of violence at the hand of their husbands and fathers because the Church had given husbands the right to physical punishment, the so-called munt in Middle High German. (1) Moreover, women had few chances in medieval society to express themselves, and they had only two significant opportunities in life, either to enter a convent or to marry, to be bride of Christ or wife in real life. If women ascended to the throne, then only as their husband's companion, and if women managed to establish their own workshops within a city, then they were still subject to severe control mechanisms set up by the guilds. Accordingly, the Middle Ages were the "Dark Ages" for women's history, and the long-term struggle for women's liberation only began after that period. Women's subjugation under men's control is then commonly identified with the wide-spread witch-craze which resulted in sweeping persecutions and executions of hundreds of thousand of innocent female victims.
If women, in their role as nuns, turned to writing, then they reflected upon their mystical experiences, but these could be explained as outlets of hysterical passions and never gained the same status as men's theological writing characterized by logic thinking and rationality. By the same token, if literary historians are hard pressed, they would have to admit that we know of no female writer who accomplished anything similar to the grand poetry of their male contemporaries, Chrétien de Troyes, Hartmann von Aue, Gottfried von Straßburg, Wolfram von Eschenbach, Dante Alighieri, Boccaccio, Petrarch, and Geoffrey Chaucer. The poetry by the troubairitz, the lais by Marie de France, and the treatises and allegorical narratives by Christine de Pizan would represent exceptions to the rule. The same would apply to the powerful Abbess Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179) who, though highly influential and admired by many for her mystical visions, was a marginal phenomenon and did not significantly alter the overall situation of women. In short, medieval society was, according to these general opinions, fundamentally a patriarchal society in which men ruled and women obeyed. If we hear of women speaking, then these are female voices assumed by male writers, such as in the chansons de toiles, or women's songs, in Chaucer's Prioress's Tale or The Wife of Bath's Tale. (2)
Are we talking about historical facts or medieval myths? Did medieval women have a loud voice or were they allowed to play only a small trumpet, as Hildegard of Bingen formulates in one of her mystical accounts? (3) Intriguingly, if we examine the political, economic, and even military records, we observe many different conditions for women, depending on their social class, their individual abilities, the cultural context, and so forth. (4) Nevertheless public and even scholarly notions about medieval women have continued to follow many of these stereotypical images outlined above and now have also made their way into the World Wide Web which sometimes proves to be more detrimental in the study of the Middle Ages than advancing its cause. (5)
To quickly deconstruct just a few of the gross misunderstandings about women in the Middle Ages, the witch-craze did not take fully effect until the end of the fifteenth century and is much more closely related to the Protestant Reformation and the Catholic Counter-Reformation than to the medieval Church. (6) We know of many exceedingly powerful queens, duchesses, and other aristocratic women who either ruled all by themselves or enjoyed extensive freedom in exerting their own power along with their husband. (7) In the world of urban life craftsmanship was not exclusively controlled by men, rather there were many women working in the textile industry, as cobblers, goldsmiths, merchants, apothecaries, and even as bankers, nurses, and doctors. (8) Even though women's role in the public economy faded away by about 1500, they regained new influence even in such fields as book printing. (9) Certainly the Protestant Reformers strongly relied on highly effective psychological strategies in their battles against the Catholic Church and its institution of the convent, forcing the closure of most of them. From our perspective, however, medieval nunneries were, undeniably, powerful centers of the arts, of textile production, spirituality, herbal medicine, education, music, the arts, and also mysticism. (10) Certainly, women were not allowed to serve as knights, and they were mostly limited in their public power, but the projection of the subservient and muted woman who only cared for her children and obeyed her husband's order represents a gross misunderstanding deeply influenced by nineteenth-century women's struggles for liberation and emancipation in which they resorted to propagandistic images of the subjugated and completely controlled women in the Middle Ages.
Recent feminist scholarship has seriously challenged and attacked some of these traditional notions of medieval women as stereotypes and misconceptions, but these myths continue to serve as poignant specters of those "dark ages" for women and provide powerful, though mostly erroneous foils for modern feminism. Here I will illustrate the complexity of the issue by focusing on literary examples from the tenth, twelfth, and fifteenth centuries in which we hear of radically different conditions for medieval women in a wide variety of social classes and roles. Certainly, the Middle Ages were not a time of freedom and equality for women, rather the opposite was the case. Equally false, however, would be the assumption that history follows a progressive line toward perfection, implying that the further we would go back in time, the worse conditions would have been for individuals, groups, and social classes.
Modern investigations of medieval women's lives have recently led to intensive discussions among scholars, but we are often hampered by the lack of sufficient documentary evidence. (11) Not surprising, some authors have made serious efforts to reconfirm these traditional positions with regard to medieval women's subservient position within the worlds of the court and courtly literature, such as Jerold C. Frakes and Anne Marie Rasmussen. Frakes argues that medieval German heroic poetry (Nibelungenlied, Diu Klage, Kudrun) portrays a world where male heroes dominate and women are condemned to play the role of chattel: "The women, as documented in the previous two chapters, simply reinforce the codes of conventional male political behavior, including the unquestioned patriarchal dominance over females." (12) Even when we hear of a powerful female character in heroic epics, such as Kudrun, Frakes immediately identifies her as the proverbial female cog in the male wheel: "the necessary condition is that her field of action is so very restricted--in fact precisely to that sphere of traditional woman's action--that her 'sovereignty' is all but meaningless even in her own world." (13) Depending on the perspective, however, one could argue just on the opposite, as Kudrun proves to be an enormously powerful princess who, though kidnapped and kept prisoner for ten years, never gives up her hope of being freed. And after she has been liberated, she quickly intervenes in the military and political events to prevent an imminent bloodbath among her former captors at the hand of her liberators. Subsequently she establishes peaceful, harmonious marriage relationships between the ruling houses of the formerly hostile countries to guarantee the establishment of constructive political conditions, thereby demonstrating the degree to which a woman could be projected as the dominant leader of her people. (14) Kudrun, like many of her sisters in heroic epic poems, but also in many courtly romances, takes action into her own hands and demonstrates to the world that many if not most medieval women were not simply chattel and knew how to determine their own lives. (15)
Neither Laudine in Hartmann von Aue's Iwein nor Enite in Hartmann's Erec turn out to be victims of male machinations, though they suffer from great pain and deep humiliations at the hand of their husbands. The latter, however, also experience similar suffering and are put to shame for their actions. We encounter powerful queens, mothers, sisters, and mistresses in Wolfram von Eschenbach's Parzival, (16) and in his Tristan Gottfried von Strassbourg introduces a trio of highly influential, intelligent, learned, and passionate women, Queen Isolde, her daughter Isolde, and the chamber maid Brangaene. (17) Even if, in the course of the romance, the royal women seem to lose their political influence and are swallowed by a newly emerging patriarchal system, as Leslie W. Rabine, for instance, believes, we still observe sufficient instances where the female protagonist continues to exert her agency and determines her own destiny. (18)
Although it has always been very fashionable among feminist scholars to severely criticize courtly male poets for their derogatory, misogynist, racist, and materialist attitudes toward women, (19)there is a severe danger of reading modern political agendas into medieval texts and to ignore the significant cultural context in which these romances and courtly love poems were created. This also implies that modern readers take rampant medieval misogynist statements at face value, although Caroline Walker Bynum has correctly alerted us to the fact that there is "'no such thing as 'themedieval attitude toward women.'" (20) In fact, modern scholarship, and subsequently lay audiences have mostly paid attention only to male authors from the Middle Ages and thus felt compelled to view that past world as entirely characterized by misogyny, lamenting the alleged subjugation and mistreatment of women in public and private. (21) However, we are only beginning to understand medieval culture as a fundamentally discoursive world in which the most disparate voices addressed the gender issue from highly contrastive positions. Consequently, to deal with the issue of misogyny and violence against women during that time period requires a complex set of interpretive approaches and leads us directly into the heart of cultural anthropology. (22)
Ann Marie Rasmussen approaches the topic from a very different perspective,
as she analyzes mother-daughter relationships in medieval German literature. In
her conclusion she admits that "the medieval world knew different, sometimes
contradictory, modes of sexualizing women, so it knew different, sometimes
competing, modes of creating femininity."
(23) Nevertheless, throughout her monograph she never deviates from
her fundamental premise, strongly influenced by Trude Ehlert (1986): "Women's
instrumental function and the sexualization of women, the reduction of women to
their function as sexual objects, go hand in hand, pervading medieval
representations of mothers and daughters."
(24) Despite the various modes of arguments involving mother and
daughter, ultimately all medieval authors utilize, as Rasmussen sees it, this
dialogue as a medium to determine womanhood according to the ideals of a
patriarchal society--a generalization that is only partially confirmed in
medieval literature.
(25)
II. Critique of the Myth:
If one searches for literary examples of subjugated women, one can always find some. One can also decide to absolutize these examples, and to ignore counter-examples. Not to follow the myth and to demonstrate that the gender relationship in medieval society did not necessarily follow this patriarchal model will be much more difficult as it has always been easy to confirm myths, and very hard to deconstruct them. (26) It is one thing, to use an example, to unearth the highly disturbing phenomenon of rape in medieval literature, (27) and quite another to comprehend how medieval society was taught to react to this crime. Following I will introduce a number of intriguing literary examples that reveal significant evidence contradicting the simplistic notion of medieval society being exclusively patriarchal. I am particularly concerned with the issue of violence against women, and how both male and female writers addressed this issue. (28) Violence has always been part of human society, and yet violence by itself does not shed significant light on society at large. (29) Modern American women, for example, know that they can always face the danger of domestic violence, of public violence (rape), or of political and religious violence. This does not indicate that women are helpless victims, pawns in the hands of male rulers or husbands. Moreover, men also experience violence, as violence is not gender-specific, even if individual and specific forms of violence might be. (30) Violence has to be examined in light of the social, legal, economic, moral, and cultural context before we can consider it as a marker of specific political conditions. Was medieval society entirely patriarchal and dominated by specific violence against women? Certainly and practically in every respect, it seems at first sight, but were women, by the same token, therefore totally subjugated chattel, reified members of male dominated society and entirely voiceless? To raise this question also means to clearly reject it unhesitatingly. To do justice to this vast topic, I will examine specific cases from different centuries and analyze how the authors viewed the gender relationship, the role of violence, and in particular women's rights and women's defenders.
III. Hrotsvith of Gandersheim
The tenth-century Abbess Hrotsvit of Gandersheim composed a number of dramatic plays, religious legends, and epic poems, all in Latin, for her convent sisters's moral and religious uplifting, spiritual entertainment, and learning. (31)
Most curiously, she had been motivated to compose her dramas because she had noticed that the comedies by the Roman writer Terence with their very worldly erotic themes had found a wide readership in her convent. In order to combat his 'evil' impact on the nuns' mind, Hrotsvit took to writing to offer her convent more appropriate reading material or material for dramatic performances. Hrotsvit's texts do not seem to have reached an audience outside of the convent walls, but when the Humanist Conrad Celtis rediscovered them in 1494 in the Regensburg convent of St. Emmeran, he hailed them as outstanding examples of Germany's contributions to the survival of classical learning. For Celtis and his compatriots Hrotsvit became "an illustrious example of the Teutonic past which proved that Italy was not the only country favored by the Muses. Here was a woman who had held aloft the torch of classical learning in the 'dark north' of the tenth century." (32)
Hrotsvit proves to be particularly interesting for our discussion because she explores violence to women in many of her texts, and sometimes it seems as if physical violence serves her as a benchmark for her female characters to demonstrate their virginal heroism and love for God. (33) Let us, however, first examine Hrotsvit's own statements about her work and her role as a religious writer, which will quickly dispel any modern notion of medieval women's subordinate role within a patriarchal system and the myth of convent women as prisoners of their own sex. (34)
Hrotsvit does not mince her words, and does not hide her self-consciousness as a proud writer: "There I, the Forceful Testimony of Gandersheim, have not refused to imitate him in writing / whom others laud in reading, / so that in that self-same form of composition in which the shameless acts of lascivious women were phrased / the laudable chastity of sacred virgins be praised / within the limits of my little talent" (25). A number of intriguing narrative elements deserve to be singled out, as they reflect not only on Hrotsvit as a writer, but also on Hrotsvit as a religious person and as an abbess. First, she is not shy at all to identify herself as "Forceful Testimony of Gandersheim," that is, as God's mouthpiece to speak up to those who are under her supervision. Hrotsvit clearly implies that she joins a public discourse on the usefulness of classical literature within the context of the convent: "have not refused to imitate him." She also indicates her strongly believes in herself as a powerful writer as she is not afraid to compete against this famous writer from Roman antiquity "whom others laud in reading." The competition with Terence is carried out in the self-same genre in which he had excelled, drama, that is, a literary genre that had hardly, if at all, been developed in the tenth century. (35) Hrotsvit proves her boldness by not only competing with Terence, she also severely criticizes him for his moral depravity: "shameless acts of lascivious women."
Obviously, Hrotsvit had thoroughly studied Terence herself, as she confesses: "Not infrequently this caused me to blush" (25), but she knew that a fully developed drama in the classical tradition heavily relied on specific elements inherent to this genre: "because being forced by the conventions of this composition / I had to contemplate and give a rendition / of that detestible madness of unlawful lovers" (25). Her intent is to glorify female virginity, which she could realize only, as she clearly states, if she also incorporates specific challenges to the moral and religious ideal: "the more seductive the unlawful flatteries of those who have lost their sense / the greater the heavenly Helper's munificence / and the more glorious the victory of triumphant innocence" (25). If we follow Stephen L. Wailes' interpretation, however, Hrotsvit does not simply idealize female virginity, but rather aims for a dramatic presentation of female steadfastness in faith and in morality. (36) Hrotsvit went so far as to develop a full dramatic program, writing the same number of plays as Terence, and succeeded, as Wailes convincingly argues, in establishing a clear-cut theme for all her plays: "human life as a contest between the principles of flesh and spirit." (37)
Fully aware of the classical tradition of rhetorics, Hrotsvit characterizes herself as a person of "little talent" (25), a deliberate pun, as Katharina Wilson explains, "on her Old Saxon name: Hruot = clamor: suith = validus," or 'strong voice.' (38) The struggle that the abbess poet wants to project deals not only with a spiritual quest, but also, if not fundamentally, pertains to the conflict between the genders: "especially when female weakness triumphs in conclusion / and male strength succumbs in confusion" (25). Hrotsvit certainly contextualizes this struggle with implied and explicit references to the divine and the nuns' ultimate goal to preserve their virginity for God's glory and the salvation of their souls.
Nevertheless, as most of her dramas demonstrate, female agency represents the highest goal for the poet who appeals to her audience to accept her presentation of strong and pious virgins as an indication of women's independence from patriarchal rule and their freedom to choose their own path in life toward God. Hrotsvit goes so far as to declare that she considers herself as God's mouthpiece: "that I return the gift I received to its Giver again" (26).
According to Hrotsvit, women's suffering and victimization at the hand of men can never make them betray their true virtues and beliefs if they trust in God. In her play Dulcitius, Hrotsvit presents gruesome scenes of torture and executions of three virtuous women, Agapes, Chionia, and Hirena, in the time of the Roman Emperor Diocletian. (39) Although he offers them honorable marriages if they reject their Christian belief and return to the old Roman gods, they steadfastly hold to their new, true religion and mock the Emperor: "we cannot be compelled under any duress / to betray Christ's holy name" (53). Even when Diocletian threatens them with torture, they do not show any sign of fear and express their desire to die "for the love of Christ" (54). Even when the three virgins are kept in prison, totally subject to any abuse by their male captors, they do not lose strength and can even laugh at the ridiculous behavior imposed on the Governor Dulcitius whom God gives a confused mind when he is about to rape the three girls. Instead of entering their prison cell in the pantry room, he is misled into the kitchen and confuses the pots and pans for the virgins. These watch him through a hole in the wall hugging and kissing the various sooty kitchen utensils and making a fool of himself. Instead of being violated physically, the three women mockingly observe how God is defeating their enemies, whereas their own bodies remain unsoiled. When Count Sissinus threatens them with their execution, they encourage him to proceed with his orders so that he can avoid being punished by the Emperor himself. This psychology has temporary effect, as he is now willing to have them burned alive (57), but he does not break the women's readiness and fearlessness, as young Hirena even states: "I hope to follow their example and expire, / so with them in heaven eternal joy I may acquire" (58). Agapes and Chionia die without their bodies being burned by the flames, and Hirena succumbs to a an arrow shot. Although Sissinus jubilates her death, he has to learn from his victim that the true victory remains hers: "you shall be damned in Tartarus for your cruelty, / while I shall receive the martyr's palm and the crown of virginity" (60).
Hrotsvit succeeds in her play not only to develop and combine highly tragic and comic elements, not only to project a powerful religious message about God's greatness and glory, manifested through the three virgins' voluntary martyrdom, but she also incorporates significant elements of the struggle of the genders. Dulcitius miserably fails both in carrying out his duties and in fulfilling Emperor Diocletian's orders to punish the girls, and he also fails to realize his personal sexual desires. (40) By contrast, the seemingly fragile and victimized virgins emerge as the true heroines, indefatigably strong in their belief in God and in their conviction that their martyrdom can only provide them with the freedom of their souls to merge with God. As Barbara K. Gold has observed, Hrotsvit assigns extraordinary strength and an independence in their mind-set "by transfiguring these women, making their weaknesses into strengths and showing them resolute in their battles against sin." (41)
Both through her various prefaces and the actual dramas, Hrotsvit proves to
be an extraordinarily self-conscious, self-assured individual who, though within
the religious context of her convent life, appeals to women to follow the virgin
martyrs' example and to stake their claim on independence and freedom from male
machinations. This freedom becomes possible through the women's absolute
dedication to God and detachment from their worldly existence. To quote Barbara
Gold again, "Hrotswitha uses the ambiguities and tensions in her plays to
redefine the role of women in a difficult time and social milieu and to explore
how women could be frail but heroic; chaste and virginal even when subject to
rape."
(42) The more Hrotsvit projects women as physical victims of male
superiors, the more she also demonstrates the true power of women, that is, the
power of the weak who ultimately, through their spiritual strength and
conviction, overcome the social constraints imposed upon them by male society
and gain an enormous, quite unforeseen freedom.
(43) Intriguingly, whereas Hrotsvit's literary figures, here the three
martyred women, acquire their freedom only through a spiritual quest, through a
rejecting of their bodies, and hence through God's help, the writer herself
demonstrates in multiple ways that she enjoyed even political, social, material,
and religious freedom. As she states in her Preface: "If my pious gift pleases
anyone, I am glad; / if, on the other hand, / it pleases no one either because
of my own worthlessness or the rusticity of my inelegant style, / it was still
worth my while, because while I wrote down the trifling efforts of my other
works . . . in the heroic meter's norm, / here I joined them in the dramatic
form" (26). It is the manifesto of an independently minded author who fully
plays with the rhetorical and religious tradition, freely operates with the
literary material derived from Roman antiquity, and creates her own work
irrespective of whether her audience might approve of it or not. Whereas
Hrotsvit'sdramatis personae still have to suffer through martyrdom to achieve
their self-realization, the poet proudly pronounces, even if couched in
classical terms of the humility topos, to be the "Forceful Testimony of
Gandersheim" (25), both God's mouthpiece and the voice of her own self. Fully
aware of the ambivalent nature of her status as an abbess and as a writer of
plays in which starkly erotic topics come to the surface, she rejects any
criticism, refuses to be victimized by public criticism, and demonstrates how
her female protagonists achieve their sainthood through self-imposed martyrdom:
"victory of triumphant innocence" (25). The more Hrotsvit humbles herself as an
unworthy writer, the more we clearly hear her own voice and recognize her degree
of personal freedom: "I am not such a braggart nor so presumptuous as to compare
myself to the least of these scholars' pupils" (26). In her letter to the
learned patron of her book, she humbles herself even further, but gains a solid
position in the shadow of these rhetorics because she makes herself to God's
instrument: "God gave me a sharp mind, but my mind has remained / neglected . .
. . Therefore, in order to prevent God's gift in me to die on account of my
neglect, I have tried whenever I could probe, / to rip small patches from
Philosophy's robe / and weave them into this little work of mine" (30).
(44) Hrotsvit directly alludes to her own victimization through male
learned society, but by way of troping herself as a humble ignoramus she
powerfully catapults herself out of the dark back into the limelight of her own
literary world,
(45) as she tells her reader: "It behoves you to examine and correct
it with no slight carefulness / as if it were the fruit of your own labor"
(30).
(46)
IV. Enite in Hartmann von Aue's Erec
Even the world of courtly literature seems to be completely dominated by male writers, if we disregard the late twelfth-century Anglo-Norman Marie de France as an exception to the rule. (47) Nevertheless, many of the courtly poets developed surprisingly sensitive character portraits of women as mistresses, wives, mothers, daughters, helpers, opponents, medical doctors, queens, and so forth. Most impressive, some poets such as Walther von der Vogelweide successfully projected women's love experiences and paid them as much respect as the courtly knights. (48) The literary world of chivalry, however, only functioned, as a superficial approach might indicate, because women were regularly attacked, kidnapped, threatened with rape, or actually suffered through this experience. The mechanism of the courtly romance relies on the damsel in distress who needs to be rescued by a knight, or on the courtly lady who is in severe need of male help which in turn causes the knight to experience profound suffering in his struggle against giants, dragons, or other knights. Indeed, if we accept this image as the social norm, then we would have to acknowledge that the traditional charge against medieval society as deeply structured by patriarchy was more or less true.
This also seems to be the case in Hartmann von Aue's Erec (ca. 1170/80) as the protagonist's young wife Enite at first is accused of having been the cause of her husband's failure as a ruler, and then has to accompany him on his quest to regain his social reputation under most humiliating and painful conditions. (49) Quite a different interpretation might also be possible, as some scholars have pointed out. (50) Enite has been studied from many different perspectives, so may it suffice here to focus on the particular element of violence in relationship to Enite's identity in order to relate the results of our analysis to our investigation of Hrotsvit of Gandersheim's drama Dulcitius with respect to women's roles within medieval society as reflected in literary examples. (51)
As in many courtly romances, the hero has to undergo two cycles of adventures before he reaches the apogee of his social status, capable of balancing personal interests and social obligations. Whereas in the first cycle Erec strives for the love of his future wife, in the second, much longer and more complex cycle he aspires for public recognition and personal happiness. Enite, on the other hand, plays a rather ambiguous role, as she at first cuts a highly passive figure, never fully able to openly communicate with her husband, a victim of her own and Erec's erotic passion. (52) The most critical and disturbing moments occur when Erec, deeply hurt in his self-understanding as king, husband, and lover, forces her to accompany her on his quest as his servant handling the horses and his equipment all by herself. Erec threatens to kill her if she is ever to utter a word to him: "She had to pledge to obey this disturbing capriciousness, for she feared his threats" (45). But the first situation approaches just too soon in which she has to warn him of imminent danger which he cannot see riding behind her and with his head covered with the helmet (47). Her words save Erec's life, but after he has defeated the highwaymen, he severely reprimands her for breaking his order. Upon her pleading in self-defense he does not kill her, but imposes the demeaning job of caring for the horses upon her. Several other occasions occur in which she is forced to warn him ahead of the next danger, and then he penalizes her increasingly painfully. Although Erec should recognize her extremely valuable assistance in his knightly enterprise, he feels deeply humiliated and hateful against his wife. The narrator does not waste this intriguing and complex situation by harping on traditional misogynistic concepts, but instead powerfully explores the highly sensitive and complex gender relationship from many different perspectives. Enite, for instance, for a long time feels entirely worthless and dependent on her husband's decisions, as she explains to the lord of the country: "Whatever my husband does to me I must tolerate it by rights. Whether he wants me as a wife, a servant or anything else, I am fully subject to him." (55). Significantly, however, she does not act as a slave or as his submissive servant, but rather as his loving wife. Enite constantly breaks her oath not to speak to him not out of defiance or obstinacy, but rather because she knows that she has to save his life even if this would mean to be killed by him: "I know well it will mean my death, for he has tolerated it from me twice now" (58). The narrator clearly signals that Enite's words indeed prove to be Erec's lifesavers, as he is fully armored and cannot see or hear well: "Even though it made him angry he would often have lost his life because of a lack of vision if his wife had not warned him" (60).
The violence committed against Enite is outrageous, as both the narrator and we as the audience know quite well through the reaction of the other knights who are surprised, even shocked at the way how Erec treats his wife. Even though count Galoain who tries to steal Enite from Erec through trickery is motivated by very selfish concerns, he clearly formulates the public outrage at Erec's behavior: "Ever since I saw you suffering such unseemly hardship today, which was never befitting a lady, my heart has been touched, and it still grieves me. . . . Who gave you, poor thing, such a husband who has neither the means nor ability to show you proper respect" (55). After Erec and Enite have arrived at King Arthur's court, there is a noticeable rumble about Erec's unheard of treatment of his own wife: "There were many questions and much talk of the unaccustomed toil that Lady Enite had suffered" (74).
But Enite also experiences violence at the hand of other men, such as Count Oringles. After Erec had freed the knight Cardoc from two giants, he faints from exhaustion, but Enite believes him to be dead. She laments and shrieks out of desperation, and is about to commit suicide when Oringles arrives and prevents her from stabbing herself to death with Erec's sword. The count is immediately bent on marrying Enite, although she unmistakably declares her absolute dedication to her first husband: "The first I ever had must be the last for me as well. Believe it, sir, this is the way it will be" (89). Oringles, however, is so convinced of his manly power that he disregards her words and transports Erec's corpse and forces Enite to come along with him to his castle, hoping that he eventually will be able to convince this beautiful woman to overcome her pain and accept his offer. As she continues to resist him, Oringles begins to resort to violence, forcing her to sit down to dinner with him: "He dragged her away against her will, for she could not defend herself against him" (91). Nevertheless, Enite does not stop grieving, and she even declares never to eat again unless Erec would do so first, practically announcing her willingness to die. At this moment Oringles launches at her and hits her so hard that she begins to bleed profusely, involuntarily making her to a martyr, the same way as Hrotsvit had projected the three virgins in Dulcitius as being victimized by their male oppressor. Significantly, however, the entire court voices severe criticism against Oringles's behavior, but only a few dare to stand up for Enite: "everyone, poor and rich, thought this to be a great impudence. Several reproached the count to his face. The others said to themselves that this was a foolish thing to do and he should not have done it. He was censured severely for this" (92f.). But the struggle is immediately hushed up because Oringles refers to a husband's traditional power to punish his wife: "How do you want to prevent me from doing to her what I want?" (93). (53) He does not say that nobody has a right to intervene in the interaction between husband and wife as a couple, as Susan L. Clark has suggested. (54) Instead, he insists on his munt over his wife, the husband's privilege to punish her in case of wrongdoing, but he cannot influence their mind, nor the audience's opinion, as Hartmann clearly depicts Oringles as a violent man certainly misbehaving toward Enite.
Enite, however, does not act like the usual victim, instead she displays the same attitude as the virginal martyrs in Hrotsvit's drama: "She was happy about the blow, more so than anytime that time . . . . She would have rather been dead a thousand times than alive" (93). Longing for her death, she is determined to speak up even further to arouse Oringle's anger to a point at which he would kill her: "She went on talking so long until he again struck her severely on the mouth" (93). But suddenly Erec awakens from his coma, startled by her cries, gets up, grabs a sword and kills Oringles and two of his men, and then escapes with Enite. Now her own words have rescued her, and Erec does not even think of reprimanding her for another transgression of his order, as her shouts to him (94) had awakened him and brought him back to action.
From here on Hartmann's Erec takes a completely different course, as the relationship between husband and wife assumes a very different character. Enite directs Erec how to find his way in the dark (95), and then he inquires about what had happened to them while he was in his coma. The narrator's words are highly significant in this situation as they reveal how much he is directing his audience's attention toward the new development in the two figures' attitude toward each other: "Suddenly the painful whim and the strange behavior with which he had treated her without cause up to that day, not having spoken to her since riding away with her, came to an end" (96). Curiously, though, we are also told that Erec only had tested Enite's loyalty and faithfulness toward him, as he now begs her for her forgiveness: "He promised her a better life, which he certainly kept. She forgave him at once, since he had asked her lovingly" (96). Despite the narrator's efforts, the negative impression of Erec as a volatile and immature person remains, but the love between the couple allows us to move on in the narrative, especially as Enite soon has to rescue Erec once again. The dwarf king Guivreiz challenges the knight, though he is still wounded from his previous fights and clearly weakened. For these reasons Erec is defeated and would have been killed by Guivreiz if not Enite suddenly would have thrown herself over her husband to protect him from the opponent. The martyr Enite--if we may use the term in this context--demonstrates, once again, how much strength she commands within her society, though not necessarily in physical form, as her pleas for mercy reach Guivreiz, especially as she mentions his own name. Remarkably, as we must recall, his literary projection comes from a male poet, but he shares very similar concepts about women and their relationship with men as Hrotsvit did two hundred years before him. Both writers present images of violence committed against their female protagonists, but the more these women experience physical suffering, the more do they gain in spiritual strength and emerge as the true heroes both in the opinion of their male creators and, most likely, also in the eyes of the contemporary audience.
This subtle but powerful admiration for the women characters is confirmed even in the midst of the most significant battle that Erec has to fight, in his duel with the knight Mabonagrin who had killed all his opponents in previous jousts. Erec immediately takes it upon himself to accept even this challenge, because without gaining the victory in this one, the joy of all of courtly life would be lost, the famous "Joie de la curt" (111). Although it seems unlikely that Erec could win even here, the miracle happens, but not simply because of his physical superiority. As the narrator comments: "'Friend Hartmann, tell me how did they withstand it?'" (127), referring to the seemingly endless fight from morning to midday. The answer is also provided: "Their wives gave them the strength" (127), as Erec, for example, only needs to think of Enite to gain "renewed strength and manly courage" (127).
Erec defeats Mabonagrin, and thereby reestablishes the joy of the court, but Enite plays an equally significant part as she talks with Mabonagrin's grieved lady who is afraid of now losing her lover as they have to abandon the isolated garden and return to courtly society. While Enite consoles her she finds out that they are both related and greet each other with full happiness, signaling to the world that enmity and hostility are a matter of the past, as the family relations have been rediscovered: "At this latest news everyone said that God had brought them together in a miraculous way in such a foreign land" (134). (55)
The romance ends on a happy note as husband and wife return honorably to their kingdom and continue with their previous married life. Instead of being totally enraptured by physical pleasures, they both now realize their social duties to their people and to each other: "The king himself fulfilled her wishes wherever he could, but only in the way that was proper for him and not as he had done earlier when he gave up his courtly life for her, for he now lived for her honor" (139).
This happy end, however, does not gloss over the hardship and the suffering
that she had to go through in her life. Of course, in contrast to Hrotsvit's
women characters, Enite did not have to die a martyr's death, instead she was
able to recover her happiness and well-being through her absolute dedication to
her beloved husband. Nevertheless, as the narrator illustrates throughout his
romance, Enite had to endure a long time characterized with violence against her
person, not only as a test of her love and loyalty, but also because of Erec's
failure as her husband and as a knight. Modern outrage against Erec's treatment
of Enite would be certain; but a sensitive reading of the medieval text
undoubtedly reveals the extent to which the male writer struggled to assign his
character as much power and influence as possible during his time. According to
Hartmann, the female protagonist surfaces not as a muted, silenced, and
subjugated individual. Quite on the contrary, she drastically demonstrates
through her behavior, her thinking, and emotional reactions how much she both
loves her husband Erec and knows how much she has to act upon her own terms so
as to avoid tragedy and disaster for her marriage and her country. Enite proves
to be a deeply tragic figure, as she innocently suffers for her husband's
political, social, and ethical shortcomings. The more, however, she accepts
suffering as the crucial catalyst to influence patriarchal society and to gain
an independent position as a woman, the more we have to realize that modern
concepts about women's lives and influence in the Middle Ages easily follow
convenient myths, but not necessarily historical reality, at least as reflected
in many medieval romances.
V. The Female Protagonist in Late-Medieval German
Literature
Turning to the late Middle Ages, let us consider the highly unusual verse narrative "Die unschuldige Mörderin" by the urban poet Heinrich Kaufringer who surprisingly follows the same model already established by Hrotsvit of Gandersheim ca. four hundred years earlier, and further developed by Hartmann von Aue ca. two hundred years earlier. Heinrich Kaufringer lived in Landsberg am Lech and descended from a family in the near-by city of Kaufring in Swabia. The historical documents record two people with the same name, the fist being the father of the other. The elder Kaufringer was custos of the Landsberg Pfarrkirche since 1396 and reportedly died in 1404, whereas the younger Kaufringer did not leave any significant historical traces. Heinrich Kaufringer was the author of a number of influential verse narratives in which the gender conflict assumes center position, focused on marriage, adultery, deception, virtues and vices. (56)
This time the text takes us into the world of late-medieval aristocracy and discusses an extreme case of a woman's victimization by male society and her successful struggles to overcome all challenges in a highly enterprising and daring manner. The author introduces a noble lady who excels through her many virtues and her successful government of her country all by herself. One day the king of a neighboring country woos her and asks for her hand, to which her brother as the responsible match-maker agrees. Even though the countess is at first identified as an independent ruler, her own brother determines the marriage arrangements, serving as the pater familiae within a patriarchal society (34-37). (57) Nevertheless, the nubile woman is more than happy with her future husband and looks forward to the wedding which is highly praised by the people in both countries because the king and the countess enjoy the same public esteem, wealth, and nobility (40-44). Despite the highly promising situation, tragedy lurks for the lady as she is maligned as a whore by the servant of an evil knight at the king's court. The knight follows his servant's advice and, pretending to be the lady's groom, finds a way into her castle and convinces her to sleep with him before the wedding night, although she wonders about his request and worries about her honor. The knight, however, inadvertently reveals his identity, and when he is asleep she uses a candle to confirm her suspicion. In her desperation she cuts off his head and tries to get rid of the corpse, asking the gate keeper for his help to drop it in the well. But the tragedy does not come to an end here, as the keeper realizes his chances and blackmails his lady to sleep with him as well in return for his assistance. In her desperation she agrees (335f.), but when he later indeed helps her to throw the corpse in the well and bends over to avoid making much noise, she lifts him up and throws him into the water as well, paying him back for his evil-mindedness (360). She spends the rest of the night working very hard to remove all traces of blood to protect her honor. The evil knight's servant, in the meantime, anxiously awaits his lord's return, arousing suspicion in the countess's brother and his men when they return the next day. They accuse him of having stolen the horses and quickly hang him because he does not find any convincing excuse and would have been guilty anyway of a severe misdeed, as the narrative implies.
Not enough with suffering, the countess next has to worry about her wedding night as she has already lost her virginity. Whereas the entire company fully enjoys the ceremonies, she feels excruciated all day without being allowed to reveal any of her profound pains (444-52). When the new couple is led to their bedroom, she quickly turns to a female confidant and request that she takes her position during the first sexual intercourse. Thereafter she herself would replace her and thus avoid being accused of having lost her virginity before her wedding with another man. She does not explain to the maid what has happened to her in reality, instead she only reminds her of all the good things she had poured on her all her life (498)--a classical trope in world literature. (58) Just when everything seems to be working well, however, the maid suddenly decides to turn against her mistress and to stay in bed because "si wolt selber künigin sein" (557; she wanted to be queen herself). In her renewed desperation the young bride turns to her last resort and sets fire to the chamber once the maid has fallen asleep as well. She wakes up the king and drags him out of the room, locking the door after herself making sure that the maid perishes in the flames.
Subsequently the lady and her husband enjoy thirty two years of a happy married life characterized by mutual respect and love: "waren baide überain / und lebten mit ainander wol / si was aller trewen vol / gen dem werden künig her; / des geleichen was auch er / gen der edlen frawen clar" (618-23; both agreed with each other and lived happily together; she demonstrated all her loyalty toward him, and he returned the same loyalty to the noble lady). Nevertheless, the guilt over the triple murder lies heavily on her consciousness, and finally she confesses to him her terrible actions. It goes to his credit that he does not accuse her of anything, rather consoles her and expresses his pity for the terrible suffering that she had to go through (690). Moreover, he pledges her that nobody would ever blame her for her deeds, as she acted out of self-defense and was much more a victim than a victimizer: "wann du haust erlitten vil" (694). (59) In the epimythion the narrator discusses the question of her guilt and that of those who had to die, but since they all had been motivated by evil intentions and had actually committed a crime against her--"den ist allen recht geschehen" (739; they received the just judgment)--the lady emerges as the true heroine, similarly as the three martyrs in Hrotsvit's play and as Enite in Hartmann's Erec.
The narrative clearly identifies her as a suffering woman who had survived only with the help of God (756f.). (60) In light of the previous examples, we can interpret Kaufringer's narrative intention as an effort by a male writer to idealize his female protagonist who demonstrates intelligence, wisedom, swiftness of action, absolute loyalty to her groom and later husband, pure love, and, ultimately, complete agency and independence as a woman. Although she is victimized over and over again, the Countess does not despair and does not show a faint heart. She accepts the unavoidable and allows, for example, the gate keeper to rape her, not yet knowing how to overcome this male violator. As soon as the opportunity arises, however, she throws him into the well and kills him as a matter of self-defense. In contrast to Agapes, Chionia, and Hirena, who gain their agency through accepting their role as martyrs, and in contrast to Enite, who only succeeds in establishing her own identity and in gaining an equal position within her marriage by way of suffering and assisting her husband under any circumstance despite his order not to speak to him, the Countess in Kaufringer's narrative goes one step further. She actively determines her own life by defending herself to the best of her abilities and does not even shrink back from murdering her oppressors, including her own chamber maid who wants to step into her place as the new queen. Kurt Ruh primarily considered the criminal aspects of Kaufringer's tale, concluding that the author had produced a sensational, though contradictory, perhaps even meaningless story. (61) Nothing could be further removed from the narrative's actual message, as the focus does not rest on the killing of the three men and the one woman, instead on the suffering and victimization of the heroine. She quickly realizes that she has only once chance of fighting back against her maltreatment and abuse, that is, by not allowing herself to be victimized and by gaining agency and freedom (!) through her decisive defensive measures. The Countess does not become a criminal, instead she rightfully fights for her own life, honor, and happiness, as each attack on her would have had the disastrous result--irrespective of her guilt or innocence--that she would have been forced to give up her marriage and enter a convent. The narrator unequivocally praises her for her decisiveness and sense of honor, for her energetic counter-actions, and also laments her suffering: "die hat gelitten grosse pein / und darzuo vil manig swär" (752f.; she has suffered great pain and many hardships). (62)
VI. Conclusion
The comparison between these three literary works from the tenth, twelfth, and late-fourteenth century indicates a progressive development of the female protagonist/s. Whereas Hrotsvit introduces highly virtuous and pious virgins who rather die than to pray to false gods, Hartmann presents a noble lady who undergoes a tremendous process of personal growth because of her personal suffering and deep love for her husband. Despite all her mistreatment she never waivers in her love and loyalty to Erec. In face of his assumed death she even demonstrates her willingness to die as well. Once the couple has found each other again after their near-death experience, they display tremendous respect and true love for each other. As our analysis has revealed, Enite had accepted all her suffering as a means to help her husband survive in the most dangerous situations of his life, whereas Erec had to undergo enormous shame and humiliation because of his own failure as a knight and ruler of his country. Heinrich Kaufringer, finally, at the end of the Middle Ages, introduces a remarkable female character who also experiences tremendous physical and psychological violence against herself but who successfully fights back and defends herself intelligently, energetically, and forcefully, leading to the death of all her enemies.
Women's suffering proves to be the common element in all three literary accounts. Nevertheless, these women display enormous inner strength and succeed in overcoming their suffering through emotional, religious, and intellectual means of their own. The martyrs' death represents an utter defeat of male machinations and oppressiveness. Enite's suffering at the hand of Erec and other knights ultimately make us contempt the male protagonists and provokes surprising criticism of the patriarchal power system. In a dialectical fashion, the more Enite is mistreated by male members of her society, the more she gains in honor and respect as she proves to be the one person most in command of agency and self-determination since her victimization hurts society's sense of honor and self-respect Finally, the Countess in Kaufringer's verse narrative gains the highest respect possible because she does not let misery and tragedy transform her into a passive victim. She is introduced as a noble, honorable, fragile, and chaste young lady, as a model character for medieval womanhood. But she does not remain such a statuary figure, instead suffering transforms her into a female "warrior" who takes action into her own hands and bravely and successfully defeats all her opponents by means of her intelligence and swiftness of action.
These three texts do not necessarily challenge the patriarchal structure of medieval society. They also do not offer options for their female protagonists to avoid violence, as violence was and continues to be, alas, a factor of human life. Instead, all three authors project suffering women and show how these women overcome their suffering by refusing to be silent victims. In some cases this involves the willingness to die in the struggle for agency, but ultimately the struggle itself proves to be the main element through which these women succeed to defend themselves. Considering our three examples we have to conclude that throughout the entire Middle Ages there was a clear awareness of the many physical dangers for women. But our authors also indicate that women have rights, that they are equal members of their society, and deserve the full respect of their husbands, lovers, and fathers. None of the texts suggests explicit criticism of patriarchy as the overall structure of medieval society, but none of the women characters considered here accepts patriarchal power mechanisms serving for the oppression of innocent, honorable, virtuous, and admirable victims.
Each in his/her own way, Hrotsvit, Hartmann, and Kaufringer emerge as powerful defenders of women, and each of them indicates that the first step toward fighting against violence against women is to recognize that specific actions by men are to be identified as violence. (63) Undoubtedly, these authors portray all their women figures as victims of violence, a violence just too realistic to be dismissed as a literary element, as W. H. Jackson confirms: "Women were at risk in Germany in the twelfth century in a society in which violence was prevalent, and in which women were prized, and vulnerable, as objects in the formation of alliances and the transmission of lands." (64)Notwithstanding these historical conditions, our three authors also indicate the extent to which women possess rights and can achieve agency to fight back against their oppressors. To find confirmation for medieval "feminism," then, we are no longer limited to the testimony of fifteenth-century Christine de Pizan (The City of Ladies and The Treasure of the City of Ladies). (65) Instead we find amazingly refreshing defenders of women's rights already among tenth-century female convent literature, among twelfth-century knightly authors, and among fifteenth-century male urban writers. The issue of women's position within medieval society proves to be much more complex than generally perceived both by the lay audience and scholarship alike. Moreover, women found defenders not only among female writers (Hrotsvit, Marie de France, Christine de Pizan), but also among male authors. (66) Gender issues were not topics of interest for female writers only, but certainly also for their male contemporaries. This observation also finds its confirmation in sixteenth-century literature, such as in Jörg Wickram's collection of entertaining prose narratives, Das Rollwagenbüchlein (1555). In "Ein junger gesell schlug sein braut vor der kirchen in das angesicht" (no. 87) a young bridegroom suspects his bride to have had an affair with the priest because the latter smiles at the woman when she arrives at the church door. When she returns his smile and also shows a happy face, the bridegroom immediately hits her in her face, throwing her on the ground. When the authorities about this event, they imprison the young man for several weeks, publicly demonstrating that any such violence, even among soon-to-be-married people, would not be tolerated. (67)
Notes
1. For a much more complex perspective, see Women and Power in the Middle Ages. Ed. by Mary Erler, Maryanne Kowaleski (Athens-London: The University of Georgia Press, 1988), for practical examples, however, of how much wives were suppressed during the Middle Ages, see Joachim Bumke, Höfische Kultur. Literatur und Gesellschaft im hohen Mittelalter (Munich: Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag, 1986), vol. 2, 465-66.
2. Ann Lingard Klinck, Ann Marie Rasmussen, eds., Medieval Woman's Song: Cross-Cultural Approaches. Middle Ages Series (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2002);Frauenlieder des Mittelalters. Zweisprachig. Übersetzt und herausgegeben von Ingrid Kasten (Stuttgart: Reclam, 1990).
3. Margaret Wade Labarge, Women in Medieval Life. A Small Sound of the Trumpet (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1986), 20-23, 100-02, 104, et passim.
4. Joan M. Ferrante, To the Glory of her Sex: Women's Roles in the Composition of Medieval Texts. Women of Letters (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1997), offers one of the best investigation of women's actual power base and range of influence in the Middle Ages. See also Power of the Weak: Studies on Medieval Women, ed. Jennifer Carpenter, Sally-Beth MacLean (Urbana : University of Illinois Press, 1995).
5. See, for example, http://www.suite101.com/article.cfm/british_social_history/73685
6. H. R. Trevor-Roper, Religion, the Reformation and Social Change. The European Witch-Craze of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, and Other Essays. Harper Torchbooks, 1416 (New York: Harper & Row, 1967; 1969); Gerhild Scholz Williams, Defining Dominion: the Discourses of Magic and Witchcraft in Early Modern France and Germany. Studies in Medieval and Early Modern Civilization (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1995), Peter Dinzelbacher, Heilige oder Hexen? Schicksale auffälliger Frauen in Mittelalter und Frühneuzeit (Zürich: Artemis, 1995); Britta Gehm, Hexenverfolgung im Hochstift Bamberg und das Eingreifen des Reichshofrates zu ihrer Beendigung. Rechtsgeschichte und Zivilisationsprozess, 3 (Hildesheim: Olms, 2000).
7. John Carmi Parson, Medieval Queenship (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1993); from an art-historical perspective, see Ingrid Sedlacek, Die neuf preuses. Heldinnen des Spätmittelalters. Studien zur Kunst- und Kulturgeschichte, 14 (Marburg: Jonas Verlag, 1997); Pauline Stafford,Queen Emma and Queen Edith: Queenship and Women's Power in Eleventh-Century England(Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell, 1997); see also Edith Ennen, Frauen im Mittelalter. Dritte, überarbeitete Aufl. (Munich: C. H. Beck, 1987; orig. 1984), 125-33.
8. Martha C, Howell, Women, Production, and Patriarchy in Late Medieval Cities. Women in Culture and Society (Chicago-London: The University of Chicago Press, 1986); Margaret Wade Labarge, A Small Sound of the Trumpet : Women in Medieval Life (Boston: Beacon Press, 1986); P. J. P. Goldberg, Women, Work, and Life Cycle in a Medieval Economy: Women in York and Yorkshire c.1300-1520 (Oxford-New York: Clarendon Press, Oxford University Press, 1992);William Chester Jordan, Women and Credit in Pre-Industrial and Developing Societies(Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1993).
9. Albrecht Classen, "Frauen als Buchdruckerinnen im deutschen Sprachraum des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts,"Gutenberg-Jahrbuch 75 (2000): 181-95; ibid., "Frauen im Buchdruckergewerbe des 17. Jahrhunderts. Fortsetzung einer spätmittelalterlichen Tradition und Widerlegung eines alten Mythos. Methodische Vorüberlegungen zur Erhellung der Rolle von Buchdruckerinnen,"Gutenberg-Jahrbuch (2001): 220-236.
10. Bruce L. Venarde, Women's Monasticism and Medieval Society: Nunneries in France and England, 890-1215 (Ithaca, NY,-London: Cornell University Press, 1997); Marilyn Oliva, The Convent and the Community in Late Medieval England: Female Monasteries in the Diocese of Norwich, 1350-1540. Studies in the History of Medieval Religion, 12 (Woodbridge, Suffolk, Rochester, NY: Boydell Press, 1998); for the concept of the convent as "Gesamtkunstwerk," see Albrecht Classen, "The Medieval Monastery as a 'Gesamtkunstwerk.' The Case of the 'Heideklöster' Wienhausen and Ebstorf," to appear in: Studi medievali.
11. Medieval Women and the Law. Ed. by Noël James Menuge (Woodbridge, Suffolk,-Rochester, NY: Boydell & Brewer, 2000), ix-xiii.
12. Jerold C. Frakes, Brides and Doom: Gender, Property, and Power in Medieval German Women's Epic. Middle Ages Series (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1994), 259.
13. Frakes, 264.
14. For a well-balanced, thorough and highly convincing reading, see Winder McConnell, The Epic of Kudrun: a Critical Commentary. Göppinger Arbeiten zur Germanistik, 463 (Göppingen: Kümmerle, 1988).
15. Tatjana Rollnik-Manke, Personenkonstellationen in mittelhochdeutschen Heldenepen: Untersuchungen zum Nibelungenlied, zur Kudrun und zu den historischen Dietrich-Epen. Europäische Hochschulschriften. Reihe I, Deutsche Sprache und Literatur, 1764 (Frankfurt a.M.-New York: Lang, 2000); Marion Mälzer, Die Isolde-Gestalten in den mittelalterlichen deutschen Tristan-Dichtungen. Ein Beitrag zum diachronischen Wandel. Beiträge zur älteren Literaturgeschichte (Heidelberg: Carl Winter Universitätsverlag, 1991).
16. Marion E. Gibbs, "Ideals of Flesh and Blood: Women Characters in Parzival," A Companion to Wolfram's Parzival. Ed. Will Hasty. Studies in German Literature, Linguistics, and Culture (Columbia, S.C.: Camden House, 1999), 12-36.
17. For a European perspective, see The Worlds of Medieval Women. Creativity, Influence, Imagination. Ed. Constance H. Berman, Charles W. Connell, Judith Rice Rothschild. Medieval Perspectives, 1 (Morgantown: West Virginia University Press, 1982).
18. Leslie W. Rabine, "Love and the New Patriarchy: Tristan and Isolde," Tristan and Isolde. A Casebook. Ed. with an Introduction by Joan Tasker Grimbert. Arthurian Characters and Themes (New York-London: Routledge, 2002; orig. 1985), 37-74, here 66-69.
19. For the most recent example, see Eva Parra Membrives, "Alternative Frauenfiguren in Wolframs Parzival: Zur Bestimmung des Höfischen anhand differenzierter Verhaltensmuster,"German Studies Review 25, 1 (2002): 35-56. She offers a very noteworthy interpretation, but also reveals stereotypical concepts about medieval women's allegedly downtrodden position and abuse by men because she reads modern expectations of women's full equality with men into medieval contexts. See also Helmut Brackert, "'der lac an riterschefte tôt.' Parzival und das Leiden der Frauen," Ist zwîvel herzen nâchgebûr. Günther Schweikle zum 60. Geburtstag. Ed. R. Krüger, J. Kühnel, J. Kuolt. Helfant Studien, S 5 (Stuttgart: Helfant, 1989), 143-163.
20. Caroline Walker Bynum, "In Praise of Fragments: History in the Comic Mode,"Fragmentation and Redemption: Essays on Gender and the Human Body in Medieval Religion(New York: Zone Books, 1991), 17.
21. See, for example, the theoretically charged contributions to Violence against Women in Medieval Texts. Ed. by Anna Roberts (Gainesville-Tallahassee-et al.: University Press of Florida, 1998).
22. Alcuin Blamires, The Case for Women in Medieval Culture (Oxford-New York: Clarendon Press-Oxford University Press, 1997); Catherine Brown, Contrary Things. Exegesis, Dialectic, and the Poetics of Didacticism (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1998)..
23. Ann Marie Rasmussen, Mothers and Daughters in Medieval German Literature (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1997), 223; for a recent critique, see Albrecht Classen, "Die Mutter spricht zu ihrer Tochter. Literarsoziologische Betrachtungen zu einem feministischen Thema,"German Quarterly 75, 1 (2002): 71-87.
24. Rasmussen, 23; Trude Ehlert, "Die Frau als Arznei: Zum Bild der Frau in hochmittelalterlicher deutscher Lehrdichtung," Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie 105 (1986): 42-62.
25. Rasmussen, 25, see also her conclusion, 223f.
26. Our task as critical readers is not to reconfirm myths, but to identify certain concepts and ideas as myths and to deconstruct them so as to allow human reason to dominate our thinking and to provide critical mirrors of medieval accounts. In this context, the analysis of medieval myths allows us to approach that time period from a rational perspective and to reflect upon popular but erroneous notions about that time period.
27. Kathryn Gravdal, Ravishing Maidens: Writing Rape in Medieval French Literature and Law(Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1991); Albrecht Classen, "Medieval: Treatment of Rape in Literature and Law," Women's Studies Encylcopedia. Vol. III: History, Philosophy, and Religion. Ed. by Helen Tierney (New York-Westport, CT,-London: Greenwood Press, 1991), 308-310; Corinne J. Saunders, Rape and Ravishment in the Literature of Medieval England (Woodbridge, Suffolk,- Rochester, NY : D.S. Brewer, 2001).
28. Violence against Women in Medieval Texts. Ed. Anna Roberts (Gainesville-et al.: University Press of Florida, 1998).
29. Donald J. Kagay, L. J. Andrew Villalon, The Final Argument: the Imprint of Violence on Society in Medieval and Early Modern Europe (Woodbridge, Suffolk, UK,-Rochester, NY: Boydell Press, 1998).
30. Anna Roberts, in her introduction to Violence against Women in Medieval Texts. Ed. by Anna Roberts (Gainesville-Tallahassee-et al.: University Press of Florida, 1998), 20, correctly emphasizes: "Violence against women was not a distinctive trait of medieval society . . . nor was it limited to overtly misogynistic discourse. It was an insidious flavor detectable in writing, whether an ornament, a trope, a plot, or a premise."
31. For the most recent critical edition of her works, see
Walter Berschin, Hrotsvit: opera omnia. Bibliotheca scriptorum Graecorum et
Romanorum Teubneriana (Munich: Saur, 2001), for a German translation, see
Hrotsvit von Gandersheim, Sämtliche Dichtungen. Trans. into German by Otto
Baumhauer, Jacob Bendixen, and Theodor Gottfried Pfund (Munich: Winkler, 1966);
for further comments, see H. Homeyer, Hrotsvithae Opera (Munich-Paderborn:
Schöning, 1970).
32. The Dramas of Hrotsvit of Gandersheim. Trans. and with an introduction by Katharina M. Wilson (Saskatoon, Saskatchewan: Peregina Publishing, 1985), 17; see also Hrotsvit of Gandersheim: a Florilegium of her Works. Library of Medieval Women (Woodbridge, Suffolk,-Rochester, NY: D.S. Brewer, 1998); for critical studies of her work, see Hrotsvit of Gandersheim, Rara Avis in Saxonia? A Collection of Essays, ed. Katharina M. Wilson. Medieval and Renaissance Monograph Series, 7 (Ann Arbor: Marc Publ. Co., 1987).
33. Eva Cescutti, Hrotsvit und die Männer: Konstruktionen von 'Männlichkeit' und 'Weiblichkeit' in der lateinischen Literatur im Umfeld der Ottonen. Forschungen zur Geschichte der Älteren Deutschen Literatur, 23 (Munich: Fink, 1998).
34. Barbara K. Gold, "Hrotswitha Writes Herself: Clamor Validus Gandeshemensis," ibid., Paul Allen, Charles Platter, eds., Sex and Gender in Medieval and Renaissance Texts: The Latin Tradition. SUNY Series in Medieval Studies (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997), 41-70.
35. Walter Berschin, "Passio und Theater. Zur dramatischen Struktur einiger Vorlagen Hrotsvits von Gandersheim," The Theater in the Middle Ages. Ed. by Herman Braet, Johan Nowé, Gilbert Tournoy Mediaevalia Lovaniensia. Series 1 / Studia XIII (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1985), 1-11; here 9f.; see also Sandro Sticca, "Sacred Drama and Tragic Realism in Hrotswitha'sPaphnutius," ibid., 12-44, and Ferrucio Bertini, "Simbologia e struttura drammatica nelGallicanus e nel pafnutius di Rosvita," ibid., 45-59. Erika Fischer-Lichte, Geschichte des Dramas. Epochen der Identität auf dem Theater von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart. Vol. 1: Von der Antike bis zur deutschen Klassik (Tübingen: Francke, 1990), fully misjudges the history of early-medieval drama by entirely ignoring Hrotsvit's works, see, especially, 66-71.
36. Stephen L. Wailes, "Beyond Virginity: Flesh and Spirit in the Plays of Hrotsvit of Gandersheim," Speculum 76, 1 (2000): 1-27.
37. Wailes, 27.
38. Katharina M. Wilson, 31.
39. The martyrdom of the three virgins actually occurred in the year 290 C.E., see Wilson, 61.
40. Wailes, 10.
41. Barbara K. Gold, "Hrotswitha Writes Herself," 51.
42. Gold, 57.
43. For corroborative evidence for our thesis, see Jacqueline Murray, "Thinking about Gender: The Diversity of Medieval Perspectives," Power of the Weak. Studies on Medieval Women. Ed. by Jennifer Carpenter and Sally-Beth MacLean (Urbana-Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1995); consult also the other contributions to this valuable volume.
44. Here Hrotsvit directly borrows imagery from Boethius's De consolatione philosophiae (480- 524 C.E.) and indirectly relates herself to this great philosopher. For Boethius, see http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/jod/boethius/boethius.html
45. Peter Dronke, Women Writers of the Middle Ages (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 67f.
46. Dick Harrison, The Age of Abbesses and Queens. Gender and Political Culture in Early Medieval Europe (Lund: Nordic Academic Press, 1998), provides highly valuable background information for the early Middle Ages, though he does not refer to Hrotsvit at all.
47. Albrecht Classen, "Happiness in the Middle Ages? Hartmann von Aue and Marie de France," Neohelicon XXV, 2 (1998), 247-274.
48. Walther von der Vogelweide, Leich, Lieder, Sangsprüche, 14th, completely newly revised ed. of the ed. by Karl Lachmanns, with contributions by Thomas Bein and Horst Brunner, ed. von Christoph Cormeau (Berlin-New York: de Gruyter, 1996), L. 39.11.
49. For a survey of current Hartmann research, see Will Hasty, Adventures in Interpretation. The Works of Hartmann vo Aue and their Critical Reception. Studies in German Literature, Linguistics, and Culture (Columbia, S.C.: Camden House, 1996). Hasty offers, however, such a compact overview in such short space that it becomes extremely difficult to identify truly different perspectives.
50. Nancy P. Nenno, "Between Magic and Medicine: Medieval Images of the Woman Healer," Lilian R. Furst, ed. and introd., Women Healers and Physicians: Climbing a Long Hill(Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997), 43-63; William C. McDonald, "The Likeness of a Lady: Concerning the Interior of the Hero's Shield in the 'Erec' of Hartmann von Aue,"Leuvense Bijdragen 90, 4 (2001): 403-18; W. H. Jackson, Chivalry in Twelfth-Century Germany. The Works of Hartmann von Aue. Arthurian Studies, XXXIV (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 1994), 120.
51. Hartmann von Aue, Erec, trans. by Thomas L. Keller. Garland Library of Medieval Literature. Series B, 12 (New York-London: Garland, 1987); for the original, see the edition by Albert Leitzmann. 4th ed. Altdeutsche Textbibliothek, 39 (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1967).
52. Patrick M. McConeghy, "Women's Speech and Silence in Hartmann von Aue's Erec," Publications of the Modern Language Association of America 102, 5 (1987): 772-783; Wendy Sterba, "The Question of Enite''s Transgression: Female Voice and Male Gaze as Determining Factors in Hartmann's Erec," Albrecht Classen, ed., Women as Protagonists and Poets in the German Middle Ages: An Anthology of Feminist Approaches to Middle High German Literature. Göppinger Arbeiten zur Germanistik, 528 (Göppingen: Kümmerle, 1991), 57-68.
53. Eva-Maria Carne, Die Frauengestalten bei Hartmann von Aue. Ihre Bedeutung im Aufbau und Gehalt der Epen. Marburger Beiträge zur Germanistik, 31 (Marburg: Elwert, 1970), 96, only comments: "die rohe Behandlung, die er ihr angedeihen läßt, erfüllt die Vasallen mit Widerwillen . . . ."
54. Susan L. Clark, Hartmann von Aue. Landscapes of Mind (Houston: Rice University Press, 1989), 81.
55. On the parallelism between Erec/Mabonagrin and Enite/Mabonagrin's lady, Waltraud Fritsch-Rößler, Finis Amoris. Ende, Gefährdung und Wandel von Liebe im hochmittelalterlichen deutschen Roman. Mannheimer Beiträge zur Sprach- und Literaturwissenschaft, 42 (Tübingen: Gunter Narr, 1999), 108-110.
56. Text quoted from: Novellistik des Mittelalters. Märendichtung. Ed., trans. and commented by Klaus Grubmüller. Bibliothek des Mittelalters, 23 (Frankfurt a.M.: Deutscher Klassiker Verlag, 1996), 798-838; for information about the manuscript tradition and for a text commentary, see ibid. 1270-78. For parallel case studies, see The Making of the Couple. The Social Function of Short-Form Medieval Narrative. A Symposium. Ed. by Flemming G. Andersen, Morten Nøjgaard. Odense: Odense University Press, 1991, 67-87; Albrecht Classen, Classen, Albrecht. "Love and Marriage and the Battle of Genders in the Stricker's maeren."Neuphilologische Mitteilungen XCII, 1 (1991): 105-22.
57. I am quoting the text using verse references in parenthesis. All translations are mine.
58. See, for example, Gottfried von Strasbourg's Tristan where Brangaene replaces Isolde in the wedding night with King Marke, quoted from the edition by Karl Marold, rev. fourth ed. by Werner Schröder (Berlin-New York: de Gruyter, 1977), vv. 12592-642. Intriguingly, Isolde worries about her replacement enjoying the sexual pleasure too much and missing the time to leave the marriage bed to avoid that their deception could be revealed. Kurt Ruh, "Kaufringers Erzählung von der 'Unschuldigen Mörderin," Kurt Ruh, Kleine Schriften. Vol. 1: Dichtung des Hoch- und Spätmittelalters, ed. Volker Mertens, (Berlin-New York: de Gruyter, 1984; orig. 1981), 170-84; see also the Klaus Grubmüller's excellent commentary with extensive references to many medieval narratives with the parallel motif, 1285-288.
59. Marga Stede, Schreiben in der Krise. Die Texte des Heinrich Kaufringer. Literatur - Imagination - Realität. Anglistische, germanistische, romanistische Studien, 5 (Trier: Wissenschaftlicher Verlag, 1993), 116; curiously, however, she focuses more on the extraordinary events as narrative features and considers Kaufringer's treatment of the marriage as an ambiguous enterprise as the idealization of the couple is undermined by the fact that she had murdered three people.
60. Ralf-Henning Steinmetz, "Heinrich Kaufringers selbstbewußte Laienmoral," Beiträge zur Geschichte der deutschen Sprache und Literatur 121, 1 (1999): 47-74; here 62, argues that the Countess would have been declared guilty by the Church authorities if she had been put up for trial. The reference to God both in the prologue and epilogue, and the plot development itself confirm, according to Steinmetz, Kaufringer's and his contemporaries' new-found lay theology and lay morality typical of late-medieval urban culture where jurisdiction and morality liberated themselves from traditional theological authorities.
61. Kurt Ruh, "Kaufringers Erzählung," 184.
62. Steinmetz, "Heinrich Kaufringers Selbstbestimmung," 53; Hedda Ragotzky, "Das Märe in der Stadt. Neue Aspekte der Handlungsethik in Mären des Kaufringer," Germanistik. Forschungsstand und Perspektiven. Deutscher Germanistentag 1984, ed. Georg Stötzel. Vol 2:Ältere Deutsche Literature, Neuere Deutsche Literatur (Berlin-New York: de Gruyter, 1985), 110-22.
63. Albrecht Classen, "Witz, Humor, Satire. Georg Wickrams Rollwagenbüchlein als Quelle für sozialhistorische und mentalitätsgeschichtliche Studien zum 16. Jahrhundert. Oder: Vom kommunikativen und gewalttätigen Umgang der Menschen in der Frühneuzeit." Jahrbuch der ungarischen Germanistik, ed. Árpád Bernáth and Gunther Dietz (1999): 13-30.
64. W. H. Jackson, Chivalry in Twelfth-Century Germany, 1994, 116.
65. Margaret Wade Labarge, Women in Medieval Life, 235-38.
66. Recent scholarship on medieval and early modern women's literature provides convincing support for our observation, see The Defiant Muse. Dutch and Flemish Feminist Poems from the Middle Ages to the Present. A Bilingual Anthology, ed. and with an introduction by Maaike Meijer, Eerica Eijsker, Aankie Peypers, and Yopie Prins (New York: Feminist Press, 1998); Albrecht Classen, "Mein Seel fang an zu singen": religiöse Frauenlieder der [sic] 15.-16. Jahrhunderts. Studies in Spirituality. Supplement, 6 (Leuven-Sterling, PA: Peeters, 2002).
67. Georg Wickram, Das Rollwagenbüchlin. Text nach der Ausgabe von Johannes Bolte. Nachwort von Elisabeth Endres (Stuttgart: Reclam, 1968), 152f.