Showing posts with label sexuality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sexuality. Show all posts

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Caliban and the Witch [Part Three of Four]



Caliban and the Witch
Women the Body and Primitive Accumulation
(Sylvia Federici, Autonomedia 2004)

reviewed by Karl Kersplebedeb

Here is the third part of my four-part review of Sylvia Federici's Caliban and the Witch - the best book i read in 2006.

Please note that a tidier and shorter version of this review is appearing in the journal Upping the Anti (#2) in December 2005.
(for information on Upping the Anti please visit the
Autonomy and Solidarity website.)

If you are just joining us, you may prefer to start with the First Installment which you can view here.

(The second and fourth parts can be viewed here.)

Please also note that the entire review is now up on the Kersplebedeb website in html and pdf format!




Men Were the Key: A Tragedy in Three Acts


A careful reading of Caliban and the Witch allows us to see that the capitalist counter-revolution was built around male violence against women.


As noted above, class warfare repeatedly forced the Church and nobles to retreat, resorting to defensive maneuvers. It now must be added that all too often these maneuvers laid the basis for more advanced forms of exploitation and left the ruling class in a position to regain the upper hand. One way this happened was by manipulating differences within the working class, by intensifying the exploitation of some sections in order to reduce pressure on, or even buy off, other sections. This has been done time and time again within our own recent history, along the fault-lines of race, sex and nation. Federici describes this as being one part of primitive accumulation, which “was also an accumulation of differences and divisions within the working class, whereby hierarchies built upon gender, as well as ‘race’ and age, become constitutive of class rule, and the formation of the modern proletariat.”[20]

ACT ONE


The first example of this “accumulation of differences” that Federici gives is “commutation,” whereby serfdom was effectively ended in the 12th and 13th centuries, with rent and taxes replacing forced labour. This prefigured many contemporary reforms in that “like many workers’ ‘victories’ which only in part satisfy the original demands, commutation too co-opted the goals of the struggle, functioning as a means of social division and contributing to the disintegration of the feudal village.”[21]

Previously, land had been held by the serf family (not just the husband), and the terms of servitude had been hereditary; now the land was rented (generally just to the “free” man) and the relationship was regulated by money. A very small minority who were lucky enough to live on the best plots were able to pay and even hire other peasants to work for them, but the vast majority found it difficult to pay, sometimes falling into debt, sometimes even losing their land.

This new class division had gender, and women were now often barred from possessing or inheriting land in their own name. Little wonder that they formed a majority of those who migrated to the towns and cities, and that they would be so prominent within the heretical sects.


ACT TWO


Two hundred years later, when as a consequence of widespread class revolt and the aftereffects of the plague the ruling class was again pushed to the brink, opportunism and division amongst the oppressed once more proved key. Federici explains how the rebelliousness of male workers was channeled into sexual violence, women’s bodies providing a pleasant diversion and safety valve to relieve social pressure. Drawing on the Jacques Rossiaud’s research about prostitution in 15th century France[22], she describes a literal rape movement, whereby sexual assaults on any poor woman were now tolerated by the authorities, essentially decriminalized. At the same time, state-run brothels were established where the masses of poor landless women could earn the money necessary for their survival. (This helps to explain the “ascetism” and rejection of sex by certain medieval heretical sects – as we know from our own era, when sex is being used as a weapon, celibacy can be a liberating choice.)

Rossiaud interprets the mass raping of women as a form of class protest; the rapists often believed that their victims – often maids, servants, or washerwomen – had sex with their masters. This is one of the most intriguing parts of Caliban, even though only a page or so was spent discussing it. Neither the internet nor most standard works on medieval women discuss this, so considering that Federici describes this as a decriminalization of rape, and as a ruling class strategy, more information about the previous legal situation and supporting evidence that this was a thought-out plan would have been welcome.

It would be important to examine this in greater depth as the scapegoating of women for the crimes of the ruling class is still with us: the class resentment that is subsumed in hostility to the “rich bitch,” the loose woman who betrays her class (or nation), the JAP, the “daddy’s little princess”... remember how Eldridge Cleaver bragged that rape was an insurrectionary act?[23] Consider the following passage by Maria Mies:

“This dimension of the relationship of men of colonized countries to men of colonizing countries, I would like to call the BIG MEN-little men syndrome. The ‘little men’ imitate the BIG MEN. Those who have enough money can buy all those things the BIG MEN have, including women. Those who do not have enough money still have the same dreams.”[24]

What Federici is describing in 15th century Europe seems to have been an early example of the “BIG MEN-little men syndrome,” which has since been exported to societies around the world. This was (is) not only class envy, but also a class conflict in gendered drag: male workers are offered free sex at the expense of women, for whom it spells a constant threat to any meaningful freedom at all.

This rape movement was a win-win situation for the authorities: both a carrot for the male workers and a stick for the female working class. And it was a sign of the times, for simultaneous to this rape movement a similar dynamic was playing out in regards to women’s labour. In this, too, craftsmen played a key role – campaigning to exclude women from their workshops, claiming that they were working for lower wages (lower than whom?[25]). So back in the 15th century, when people depended more and more on money to acquire the necessities of life, women’s ability to earn this money was curtailed to the benefit of men of their class.

“It was from this alliance between the crafts and the urban authorities, along with the continuing privatization of land, that a new sexual division of labor […] was forged, defining women in terms – mothers, wives, daughters, widows – that hid their status as workers, while giving men free access to women’s bodies, their labor, and the bodies and labor of their children.”[26]

One is reminded of Mies’ observation that “The process of proletarianization of the men was, therefore, accompanied by a process of housewifization of women.”[27]


INTERMEZZO


It is here that a second question arises, one that lay hidden behind the question of violence against women: the nature of classes, and of class alliances. This is a question that Mies has tackled head on, but when Federici broaches it, her argument seems inconsistent. This does not detract from the wealth of information and insights that she does share with us, but it does leave room for misleading conclusions, so it is worth discussing.

These were cross-class alliances, whereby men separated themselves from working class women in order to ape the privileges and power of their “betters,” and yet Federici insists that male workers did not really benefit from their new position, that the “state-backed raping of poor women undermined the class solidarity that had been achieved in the anti-feudal struggle.”[28] Furthermore, “the devaluation and feminization of reproductive labor was a disaster also for male workers, for the devaluation of reproductive labor inevitably devalued its product: labor-power.”[29]

This is confusing, as it seems clear that some working class men most definitely did exploit women for their own gain. They enjoyed a formal economic gain in the form of higher wages. They benefited sexually by having increased access to women’s bodies. As women were warped through the process of housewifization, men eventually enjoyed a hidden economic bonus in that so much work that previously had to be paid for or done by the male worker himself was now done by the female houseworker. One is also reminded of what Mies wrote:

“Proletarian men do have an interest in the domestication of their female class companions. The material interest consists, on the one hand, in the man’s claim to monopolize available wage-work, on the other, in the claim to have control over all money income in the family.”[30]

Because there is no explicit discussion of the nature of class – beyond her promising observation that gender can be a specification of class relations – it is difficult to know Federici’s rationale for claiming that these opportunistic acts were against men’s interests. Perhaps she feels that as men’s alienation and exploitation can only be solved by revolution, any behaviour that works against this goal is not in their interest; in this sense it might be said that although this opportunism was in their personal interests it remained against their class interests, but this formulation becomes unwieldy when we insist on seeing gender as a “specification of class,”[31] and unconvincing when we are given no evidence of male resistance to women’s subjugation. Men seem to have “voted with their feet,” perhaps resisting some aspects of class rule but often collaborating in new mechanisms of exploitation and oppression, so that like “whiteness” today, “maleness” in these instances seems to be the most important specification of class.

Whether or not the mass of men (or white people) are acting “in their class interests” really becomes a matter of what one wants to believe about the working class. From a certain philosophical perspective even the ruling class has an “interest” in abolishing class rule: it is obvious that once one has accepted the desirability of a classless non-hierarchical society, that goal seems far more alluring than waking up in this cesspool but finding out that you’ve won the lotto. But this is not usually how “class interest” is understood…

Perhaps one way to untie this knot is to acknowledge that men also must also have been warped by this process – becoming more sexist, less respectful of the women in their community, more prone to dismiss, to degrade, to beat and to rape. We are not told of any significant resistance to this transformation by the men concerned. So while the abstract genderless worker may have suffered as a result of these attacks on women, the new male worker was served by the increasing subordination of women – which in no way lessens the fact that this was a historic human tragedy.


ACT THREE: Still Higher Levels of Violence


We cannot know what would have happened had the balance of forces remained at this level, for events conspired to once again push the ruling class to the brink. Just a few hundred years after the plague, the labour shortage that continued into the 16th century due to the widespread hostility to capitalist work was exacerbated by a new decrease in the population (probably due to the increase in poverty as the gains of the 14th and 15th centuries were undone).

This was the era of the capitalist counter-revolution, and yet the new capitalist class could not create the labour they needed like they could make cloth or steel. Both Mies and Federici agree on this point that two of the greatest crimes of that age were committed to find a way around this crisis: mandatory procreation for European women and the mass kidnapping and enslavement of Africans. In Mies’ words: “The counterpart of the slave raids in Africa was the witch hunt in Europe. The two seem to be connected through the same dilemma with which the capitalist version of man-the-hunter is faced: however much he may try to reduce women to a mere condition of production, to nature to be appropriated and exploited, he cannot produce living human labour power without women.”[32]

While Federici does not deal with the effects of the slave trade on gender relations within Africa, and only touches upon the way in which ideas of male and female power developed amongst African slaves in the “New World,” she does note that “capitalism may not even have taken off without Europe’s ‘annexation of America,’ and the ‘blood and sweat’ that for two centuries flowed to Europe from the plantation.”[33]

What Federici does concentrate on is the war against women in Europe, the hammer of housewifization which “degraded maternity to the status of forced labor.”[34]

European men had been burning witches since the 15th century, but this had originally just been one part of the campaigns against the heretics. In the 16th century the persecution of witches went from the margins to being the center of this campaign, and the accusations changed from being primarily about religious beliefs to concentrating on sexual perversion,infanticide and reproduction. By the 17th century as many as 100,000 women were killed, and just as many more had their lives ruined by the accusation.[35]

Whereas Mies emphasized the economic role of the Witch-Hunt, the way in which the theft of women’s property was part of primitive accumulation, Federici convincingly casts doubt on this, pointing out that the overwhelming majority of victims had no property or wealth to speak of. Rather, this was a politically motivated war against women: what had to be destroyed was “the female personality that had developed, especially among the peasantry, in the course of the struggle against feudal power, when women had been in the forefront of the heretical movements, often organizing in female associations, posing a growing challenge to male authority and the Church.”[36]

Federici does us the service of contextualizing this mass murder within a growing hostility to women. At the same time as “witches” were being publicly tortured and killed, governments across Europe were passing laws against contraception, abortion, adultery, and especially infanticide – all of which were punishable by death. Other changes registered at this time are also worth mentioning: prostitution was now criminalized in such a way as to harshly punish the woman but hardly touch the male customer, the word “gossip” (which had meant “female friend” previously) now took on disparaging meaning, and – like women in Iraq today – new levels of male hostility forced women indoors, for to be seen walking the streets without a male escort was to risk insult or attack.[37]

If it is tempting to see the Witch-Hunt as just one detail in this rise in misogyny, especially since historians are now saying that the number of dead was so much smaller than previously thought, one should remember what these trials and executions were like. These were public events, which normally involved new and incredibly sadistic forms of sexual torture approaching vivisection.[38] The way in which the “guilty” were executed was also harrowing – drowning, burning, etc. – and the entire village (including the woman’ children) was often forced toattend. So the 100,000 witches who were burnt during the Great Hunt (if this number stands future scrutiny) would have had a very different psychological effect than 100,000 deaths on a battle field. The murder of each woman thus became powerful propaganda.

Nevertheless, all of these changes, and not just the Witch-Hunt, did come together as pieces of a larger puzzle; men with big ideas were making their dreams come true, finally summoning the necessary violence to snuff out centuries of rebellion and resistance to class rule. The draconian “pro-life” legislation; making money male by driving women out of the formal economy; the Witch-Hunt – all of this was supported by the leading intellectuals of the day. A modern process - “the secular courts conducted most of the trials, while in the areas where the Inquisition operated (Italy and Spain)the number of executions remained comparatively low”[39] – aimed at completely rooting out “a whole world of female practices, collective relations, and systems of knowledge that had been the foundation of women’s power in pre-capitalist Europe, and the condition for their resistance in the struggle against feudalism.”[40]

You can view the First Installment of this review here and the Second Installment here and the Fourth Installment here - or you can view the whole thing on the Kersplebedeb site in html or pdf format.

Footnotes


20] Federici, p. 63. [back to text]

21] Federici, p. 29. [back to text]

22] Rossiaud, Jacques Medieval Prostitution (Oxford:
Basil Blackwell 1988) [back to text]

23] Eldridge Cleaver, Soul on Ice [back to text]
24] Mies, p. 167 [back to text]
25] This complaint – still heard in anti-immigrant campaigns today, as well as in the right-wing of the anti-globalization movement –should be understood as one set of ambitious workers trying to increase the price of their skills (i.e. wage) by limiting the labour supply by excluding(and, incidentally, impoverishing) another set of workers. [back to text]

26] Federici, p. 97. [back to text]

27] Mies, p. 69. [back to text]

28] Federici, p. 48. [back to text]

29] Federici, p. 75. [back to text]

30] Mies, p. 109 [back to text]

31] Federici, p. 14. [back to text]

32] Mies, p. 69. [back to text]

33] Federici, p. 103. [back to text]

34] Federici, p. 92. [back to text]

35] Federici, p. 208. Previous estimates of the numbers of witches killed had run into the millions – German feminist Ingrid Strobl put it at “between 9 and 30 million” (in “Fear of the Shivers of Freedom”) – but more recent research which seems to be accepted by feminists puts the figure much lower. See “Recent Developments in the Study of the Great European Witch-Hunt” by Jenny Gibbons at http://www.cog.org/witch_hunt.html
[back to text]

36] Federici, p. 184. [back to text]

37] Federici, p. 99-100. [back to text]

38] According to Mies, “The torture chambers of the witch-hunters were the laboratories where the texture, the anatomy, the resistance of the human body – mainly the female body – was studied. One may say that modern medicine and the male hegemony over this vital field were established on the base of millions of crushed, maimed, torn, disfigured and finally burnt, female bodies.” (p. 83) [back to text]

39] Federici, p. 168. [back to text]

40] Federici, p.102. [back to text]


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Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Caliban and the Witch [Part Two of Four]



Caliban and the Witch
Women the Body and Primitive Accumulation
(Sylvia Federici, Autonomedia 2004)

reviewed by Karl Kersplebedeb

Here is the second part of my four-part review of Sylvia Federici's Caliban and the Witch - the best book i read in 2006.

Please note that a tidier and shorter version of this review is appearing in the journal Upping the Anti (#2) in December 2005.
(for information on Upping the Anti please visit the
Autonomy and Solidarity website.)

If you are just joining us, you may prefer to start with the First Installment which you can view here.

(The third and fourth parts can be viewed here.)

Please also note that the entire review is now up on the Kersplebedeb website in html and pdf format!



Enter Capitalism



“Capitalism was the response of the feudal lords, the patrician merchants, the bishops and popes, to a centuries-long social conflict that, in the end, shook their power […] Capitalism was the counter-revolution that destroyed the possibilities that had emerged from the anti-feudal struggle – possibilities which, if realized, might have spared us the immense destruction of lives and the natural environment that has marked the advance of capitalist relations worldwide.” [13]


The term “counter-revolution” should be explained, as it might be understood as a reactionary offensive to restore or maintain the status quo. In actual fact, most counter-revolutions do not do this, rather they re-organize society in a new and more brutal way; like Nazism or the Taliban, what we are really talking about is a revolution from the right.


These analogies are chosen with care, for Europe in the 16th and 17th centuries bears a striking similarity to fascist and fundamentalist societies in our own time. Repression and control were the watchwords of the day, in fact modern medicine, psychology, demographics and the social sciences all developed at this time in a grand effort to learn how to make people “fit” into the straitjacket of capitalist relations.


As in Hitler’s Germany and the Taliban’s Afghanistan, the metaphysical nature of the human being herself was re-conceptualized: it was at this time that intellectuals separated the body from the mind (or conscience, or soul), leaving it a fleshy machine to be governed by either the disciplined individual or the State. Feelings like lust, hunger, anger and fatigue were all blamed on this “mindless” body, now described as a rebellious subject that needed to be tamed. As it came to be more and more repressed, those outside the realm of formal production – children, women, colonial subjects and people living outside of capitalism – all came to be associated with an ever-more wild, earthy, sexual and “natural” carnality. Patriarchal capitalism’sfetishes for Black and female bodies are ascribed to this process: “For the definition of blackness and femaleness as marks of bestiality and irrationality conformed with the exclusion of women in Europe and women and men in the colonies from the social contract implicit in the wage, and the consequent naturalization of their exploitation.”[14]


The idea of a “mind/body dichotomy” being part of capitalist relations had a certain currency in feminist and anarchist circles back in the 1980s, and Mies referred to it as a “colonizing division,”[15] though without any of the explanatory rigor found here. Over the past twenty years it has never been completely abandoned, but has found itself increasingly left to the practitioners of post-modernist mumbo jumbo, relegated to the margins of most serious political analysis.[16] In plain language and without recourse to spiritual or flakey concepts Federici convincingly explains how this self-alienation resulted from the brutality and violence of early capitalism.


At the same time as individuals were now supposed to be disciplined and deny themselves any “unproductive” pleasures, popular culture was also being attacked by the new capitalist intelligentsia. People had previously had a communal culture that was rich in games, folklore and ritual, and this now had to be suppressed or radically re-crafted: “taverns were closed, along with public baths. Nakedness was penalized, as were many other ‘unproductive’ forms of sexuality and sociality. It was forbidden to drink, swear, curse.”[17] Magical beliefs and superstitions, which often encouraged the belief that one might “get something for nothing,” were also attacked: “How could the new entrepreneurs impose regular work patterns on a proletariat anchored in the belief that there are lucky and unlucky days, that is, days on which one can travel and others on which one should not move from home, days on which to marry and others on which every enterprise should be carefully avoided?”[18]


This suppression of people’s bodies and culture was the more sophisticated side of capitalist “progress,” but Federici also describes the many ways in which people were forced off of their land, including the Enclosures,the fencing off of common land which peasants depended on for their survival. Yet even once they were landless, too many preferred to take their chances in the teeming counter-culture of vagabonds, beggars and rebels than work for a wage. This led to “the introduction of ‘bloody laws’ against vagabonds, intended to bind workers to the jobs imposed on them, as once the serfs had been bound to the land, and the multiplication of executions.”[19]

You can view the first installment of this review here and you can read the third installment (which comes next) here.

Footnotes


13] Federici, pp. 21-22. [back to text]

14] Federici, p. 200. [back to text]

15] Mies, p. 210. [back to text]

16] I would qualify this by acknowledging that the concept has retained slightly more currency in the queer and feminist movements, and remains central to the anti-psych movement, though these movements are perhaps also less firmly entrenched in the left now than they were twenty years ago. [back to text]

17] Federici, pp. 136-137. [back to text]

18] Federici, p.142. [back to text]

19] Federici, p. 136. [back to text]


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Wednesday, October 05, 2005

The Boundaries of Eros by Guido Ruggiero, etc.

Alright, having finished The Boundaries of Eros by Guido Ruggiero, I have a few things to say about sex in Renaissance Venice, about books that I read, and about this blog.

First off, a few observations about The Boundaries of Eros: Sex Crime and Sexuality in Renaissance Venice.

The final chapter of this book is called “Perspectives on Normal Sexuality: An Essay”, but as much as anything else it is really a conclusion to all that came before, for throughout this book Ruggiero draws conclusions about “licit sexuality” from his examination of the illicit. Besides polishing his previous observations and giving the reader a sense of closure, there’s not a whole helluvalot new here.

Well, with the exception of a particularly noteworthy quote from the court records of the Patriarchal Court of Venice in the 1470s.

It would seem that here was this fellow Nicolo whose wife wanted her marriage annulled, claiming that he was unable impotent. Nicolo’s boss Francesco Barbetta was for some reason interested in helping him out, and so he arranged for Nicolo, the local priest, a scribe, and Francesco’s father all to get together with two female prostitutes.

Nicolo not only proceeded to fuck both of these women, but at one point came in the priest’s hand, at another point had the priest feel his cock while he was having intercourse. And this is in the court records, and nobody at the time thought it scandalous, wrong, or abnormal…

All of which is, quite graphically, to say that “normal” sex in other times might not quite be what Pat Robertson or Pope Benedict XVI – or, for that matter, Dr. Phil or Oprah – think it should be today. Which isn’t to say it was necessarily any more liberated or less patriarchal than sex today – the same legal system that did not blink at this public sex was busy executing sodomites in record numbers – just to say that it was different.

The only other new observations which made an impression on me in this last chapter were (1) Ruggiero’s speculations that increasing age segregation may have been related to the general explosion of homophobia at the time, as there was often a teacher-student older-younger active-passive structure in gay male relationships at the time and (2) that affective bonds between sex partners may have been more common amongst the working class than amongst the nobles. This point in particular I found interesting, not only as it flies against certain stereotypes of “courtly love”, but also because it tends to lean against Sylvia Federici’s claim that the fifteenth century saw a dramatic rise of working class male sexual violence. I say “lean against” because it does not contradict it – just etnds to point in the other direction.

A few last points regarding The Boundaries of Eros:

  • qualifying what I wrote a couple of days ago, regarding the hierarchy of different sex crimes: these are inexact categories, that line up with Ruggiero’s categories. The legal cases seem to have been prosecuted an a more ad hoc basis, the categorization here is based on Ruggiero’s thorough sifting through the legal records of the time, specifically looking at penalties handed out.

  • Furthermore, regarding Fornication, it should be pointed out that especially amongst the working class and poor people fornication was a common and accepted behaviour – the cases prosecuted were cases where someone complained, often because the guy was not willing to follow through and marry the woman as he may have promised beforehand. So not only were the cases brought to trial the tip of the iceberg (as is to be assumed with all of these categories), in the case of Fornication the cases brought to trial were certainly not representative of the pre-marital sex that was common in Renaissance Venice.

  • Regarding sodomy, which I dealt with at greater length a couple of days ago, Ruggiero’s last chapter brings out an additional detail which shows how the 15th century was a time of increasing persecution of gay men. It seems that anal sex between husband and wife – while always illegal – was also subject to increasing levels of punishment:

Most suggestive is the fact that the early cases [14th century] of this activity reported between husbands and wives invariably ended with acquittal. Eventually, however, as paranoia about sodomy grew, the Ten did convict and punish husbands, first with lesser penalties, but occasionally toward the end of our period [15th century] with execution. It appears that as the Ten became more concerned with what they saw as a growing subculture of sodomy, they became more willing to burn out of society what they had previously viewed in the light of contraception and thus been willing to overlook. (pp. 165-166)

Ruggiero finally mentions the word “abortion” on page 166, but just to say that it must have occurred. That’s it! It “nonetheless seems to have been used”! Nothing more to say on the subject!

This is kind of disappointing. I mean I have no idea what politics Ruggiero has – he’s a professor of history at the University of Miami, that’s all I know about him – but his silence about both abortion and lesbianism are in sad contrast to the useful observations and speculations he does make about women. I guess this book would be best described as a look a how men and women dealt with illicit male sexuality in Renaissance Venice, and perhaps this is merely a necessary result of the fact that the law codes that prosecuted sex crime then were blind to these female realities, but if this is the case at the very least Ruggiero should have said so!

That said, I did like this book, and did find it interesting. I guess on a scale of one to ten I would have to give it a 5 for politics, a 7 for information, and a 9 for readability.

All of which brings me to my next point, which is how I read books, and how I intend to write about them on this blog.
Sketchy Thoughts is going to be a less-than-formal brain dump for me. I hope to publish entries most days of every week, mainly dealing with books as I read them. Perhaps I’ll also talk about television shows or movies I’ve watched, music I’ve listened to, the state of the world or the weather, but for the immediate future I see the focus being on books.
However, what I will be writing will most likely fall short of actual book reviews – not only am I writing as I read the books but I am not holding myself to incredibly high standards. I may have misunderstood something in the book, I may be interested in an aspect which is not central to what the author is dealing with, i may have my own interpretation which may actually be dead wrong – and most importantly I may change my mind after writing what I write.
So let me reiterate: these are not book reviews – if I manage to write something coherent which works as a review, I will post it to the Book Reviews page on my website. What you see here are Sketchy Thoughts – no more, no less.
Finally, I have not been in the “educational system” since I dropped out of high school twenty years ago. I don’t get as much time to read as I would like, and I don’t often find myself reading the same things as my friends, this despite the fact that we often have relatively similar politics and interests. One part of why I am doing this blog is to have the pleasure of putting down what I am thinking about what I am reading, one part is to give myself an incentive to actually remember what I’m reading – but another part is to hopefully be able to discuss what I am reading with others.
So if you have read any of the books I deal with, and have something to say – either in agreement or disagreement with yours truly – please don’t hesitate to share.

Next book on my list… Marilyn Waring’s Counting for Nothing: What Men Value and What Women Are Worth (University of Toronto Press 1999) – a critique of economics from an ecological feminist perspective.

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Monday, October 03, 2005

Crimes Against God, Rape, and Sodomy in Renaissance Venice

OK, I managed to read another chapter of Guido Ruggiero’s The Boundaries of Eros this morning, on sodomy in Renaissance Venice (14th-15th centuries).

Once again: I am reading this and other books to try and form an opinion of Silvia Federici’s claim (in Caliban and the Witch: Women, The Body and Primitive Accumulation) that there was a dramatic increase in working class violence against women in the 14th and 15th centuries, encouraged by the ruling class as a means of diffusing class rebellion. She basesm this on the work of Jacques Rossiaud, whose book Medieval Prostitution I have yet to read.

Having now read most of Ruggiero’s book (there remains an essay on “normal sexuality”) I can’t say that he confirms or disproves Federici’s claim. What he does do is provide a very readable and interesting account of illicit sex in Renaissance Venice.
It seems that of the various sex crimes that were prosecuted at the time, a clear hierarchy of concern emerges, with the following being the order from least serious to most serious:

  1. rape of a woman

  2. adultery

  3. fornication

  4. crimes against god (sex with clergy, in a church, or between Christians and Jews)

  5. sodomy

These categories are unfortunately not the exact categories used by the Venetian officials at the time, they’re the categories Ruggiero uses. So for instance, rape of a noblewoman by a non-noble was actually considered very serious, as was rape of a pre-pubescent child (though less serious than consensual sodomy). Sex between Christians and Jews was more serious than sex with clergy, and in fact was one of the (rhetorical?) motivations behind legislation stigmatizing Jews. Likewise, Jewish men who had sex with Christian women were tried and convicted, but Christian men were not prosecuted for having sex with Jewish women.

Nevertheless, if the above hierarchy is misleading it nevertheless gives enough information to make some clear observations. Indeed, the exceptions only seem to prove the rule.

What we can observe is that the State was completely and utterly uninterested in women’s welfare except insofar as these women represented a form of capital for the men in their lives. Ruggiero gives some examples where individual men obviously made decisions which seem to have been motivated by love/affection/care/etc. (i.e. risking prosecution to continue an adulterous affair, even when this meant leaving one’s family and losing one’s position of power) for women in their lives, but in the eyes of the State this was besides the point.

RAPE

The penalties for rape tended to be minor. “Slap on the wrist” would be an exaggeration. Especially in the case of unmarried women, any compensation seemed to hinge on the loss of the woman’s virginity, which reduced her value for her future husband. Thus a common penalty involved providing money to be used for the woman’s dowry (to make up for her loss of marriage-value), and penalties could often be avoided altogether if the rapist and his victim agreed to marry.

Which brings up a question: why would the victim of rape agree to marry her rapist, especially as this often meant that he would get off the hook for having raped her in the first place?

Ruggiero answers this question as follows:

“For many women with limited dowry potential [i.e. poor women – me], rape, which robbed them of their virginity and tainted their sexual status in the eyes of their contemporaries, may have meant that their chances of marriage declined considerably. With great pressure to marry and limited possibilities, there may have been a certain dark logic in accepting the attacker as husband.” (p. 99)

Imagine that: as a consequence of being raped you face a life of heightened poverty, so that you end up accepting your rapist as your husband as “the lesser of two evils”. All ofb which would be encouraged and arranged by your father, brothers, and the State.

While disgusting enough, what Ruggiero exposes is different from what Federici describes. Ruggiero describes an overwhelming indifference to rape, and seems to imply that this reflects a continuity with pre-Renaissance attitudes. Regarding an increase or decrease of rape and prosecutions of rape between the 14th and 15th centuries, he finds there is mixed evidence, but too many records are missing to be draw any solid conclusions (though he does note that the fairly rare use of corporal punishment of rapists increased slightly with time). Moreover, he gives no evidence of intellectuals of the day considering rape-between-workers as a means of keeping the “lower orders” in their place – indeed, he suggests that rape almost always went from top to bottom, as in men would tend to rape women of lower social standing than themselves.

Of course, this does not contradict Federici’s claim, but it doesn’t confirm it either. Seeing as Federici bases her claim on work by Jacques Rossiaud, I will have to wait until his book arrives at the library to actually form a solid opinion.

SODOMY

Sodomy – a word that at the time was understood to mean homosexual acts, heterosexual or homosexual anal intercourse, and bestiality – was at the other extreme. This was a crime which seems to have shaken the ideological foundations of the Venetian State. No other sex crime was dealt with as seriously either in terms of penalties (almost always death by burning) or policing (actual rewards were eventually offered to anyone coming forth with information about sodomites, and a counter-proposal that those making false allegations be penalized was rejected out of hand). Finally, this was the only sex crime where the State eventually was pushed to punish nobles just as harshly as commoners.

It seems that a turning point in the lives of queer Venetian men came in 1406, when the Signori di Notte (a body charged with investigating, judging and sentencing crimes) uncovered a large queer scandal that involved at lest 15 nobles (many from important families) and 18 non-nobles.

The investigation and prosecution of this case – which lasted until 1408 – forced the State to up its ante considerably. Jurisdiction was shifted from the Signori to the Council of Ten – a more specialized and heavy-handed legal body charged with dealing with the most serious of crimes. A turf war erupted with the Church. In then end, all but two of the men were executed.

Once the campaign against sodomy was taken over by the Ten, it completely left the trajectory of other sex crimes, and became something like a crime against the State, in a way that would prefigure massacres to come. As has already been noted, the 1406-1408 case involved a power struggle with the Church, which led to the Ten forcing the appointment of a new bishop, the establishment of a reward for information leading to the successful prosecution of sodomites, and also to the first expansion of Venetial law to regulate behaviour over the sizeable Venetian fleet. Homophobia seems to be the engine that propelled many important changes at that time.

Ruggiero suggests that this reaction may have been partly provoked by the rebirth of a clandestine gay subculture, perhaps inspired in part by the spread of humanist ideas and renewed interest in the Greek classics. Not that there would have necessarily increased the number of men (Ruggiero does not deal with lesbians, and apparently neither did the Venetian authorities) with same-sex desire, but it would have certainly changed the way some men would have understood their desires, and thus (as in our time) would have given rise to a “new” form of queer identity.

A separate subculture (real or imagined), combined with the fact that the Ten had already had to engage in political struggle to successfully prosecute the 1406-1408 sex scandal, combined with the belief (which may have been sincerely held) that tolerance of sodomy would inevitably lead to the actual destruction of the city, as happened to the biblical cities of Sodom and Gommorah, led to an exponential increase in the number of prosecutions. Whereas 16 people had been convicted of this crime between 1326 and 1400, 168 were convicted between 1401 and 1450 and 330 were convicted between 1451 and 1500 – as Ruggiero explains, “it is clear that once the ten began to take responsibility for the crime, they pursued the matter more vigorously with a resultant increase in the number of prosecutions and in the number of important Venetians tried and senetcned” (p. 127)

Ruggiero writes that:

“A paranoia that seems at times to have shared certain affinities with the witch scares that were to swept Europe shortly appears to have gripped Venetian authorities in the mid decades of the fifteenth century. Outsiders sexually, from the perspective of the threatened dominant culture, both witches and homosexuals engendered a fear based, on he one hand, on man’s powerlessness to stand up to their seemingly growing powers and, on the other hand, on God’s threatened wrath against societies that tolerated such ungodly ways. In both cases man had the power to literally burn the danger out of society. This provides an ultimate brutal parallel – in each case society had become organized and disciplined enough to have a vision of the normal and abnormal as well as an institutional response to eliminate those perceived as dangerously deviant. Both homosexuals and witches were, in a way, among the first victims of a more aggressively organized society flexing its new muscles of discipline and control.” (p. 140)

It would seem that, a least in the case of Venice, the campaign against sodomy (which overwhelmingly meant of prosecution of queer men) stands out as the main form of repressive State violence which begs explanation at this time.

CRIMES AGAINT GOD

Finally, neither the most serious nor the least, but interesting in its own right, Ruggiero describes sex crimes which were supposed to personally wound God. These were sex with clergy, sex in sacred places, and sex between Christians and Jews.

Without discussing the entire chapter, it was interesting to note the State had repeated problems with nuns, especially with certain convents. This is explained by the fact that many young women (often teenagers) were sent to convents so that fathers could provide larger dowries for their other daughters. In these cases, religious life was not entered into by choice, or out of religious conviction, but more as an extreme way of controlling female sexuality. One is reminded of those “rehabilitation centers” today where anxious parents send their queer children, only the convents were for life.

So it is important to separate the idea of “nuns” in that day from the impression we might have from the modern world where we expect these women to be willing and active champions of the Church – in the Renaissance it seems like many of these women were engaged in a far more complicated relationship with men, the spiritual authorities and their own selves.

Significant numbers of nuns seem to have rebelled against these sexual prisons, and it is in his discussion of this “crime against god” (often described as “incest”, with the logic that God is the father and the nuns were all his wives) that Ruggiero seems to be exploring an area where women were actively resisting and reclaiming parts of their lives that the Church and State sought to deny them.

Ruggiero provides many examples of nuns having long-term relationships, at times with the collusion of other sisters, and also of experiencing a kind of sexual freedom that we find nowhere else in this book. The use of convents as orphanages for foundlings and abandoned children helped those who became pregnant to hide the consequences of their acts.

In one case in particular, the Benedictine convent of Sant’ Angelo di Contorta seems to have been an institution successfully taken over and subverted by the women who lived there. The abbess herself was involved with different men, and at least four children were born to nuns here between 1401 and 1487. Furthermore, there wee a total of 52 prosecutions for having sex with nuns from that one convent in the same period of time, and its reputation was so notorious that in 1474 the pope ordered that no new nuns were to be brought in, effectively ensuring that the convent would die out.

The drawback in this chapter, as throughout this book, is that even when women enter the picture it is in their relationship with men. Lesbianism is not touched upon. And while contraception is touched upon (in passing observations about anal intercourse and coitus interruptus), abortion is completely absent from the picture. This is unfortunate, as especially in the convents – a female world where women would have the greatest opportunity to share and develop knowledge and affectionate relations – one suspects that these either must have had a significant existence or else – if they did not – that fact in and of itself would seem to indicate some large repressive mechanism which otherwise remains invisible.

If, as may be the case, Ruggiero’s silence on these questions is because his study is based no legal prosecutions, and the male-centered legal system of that day was blind t the existence of sexuality without men, then at the very least he could have said so. An omission like this is the kind of thing that annoys me about studies like his, in part because it is not difficult to acknowledge limitations of this sort, but when one fails to do so a limitation becomes something that actually obscured potentially important phenomenon.

So that’s pretty much it for those three chapters of this book. Later this week I hope to finish it off. Despite my annoyance at the male bias in what gets left out of this book, i still have to say that this book is a rewarding read…

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