(no subject)
Jan. 14th, 2008 11:22 amIt's really extremely difficult to read more than a little of the mystic Elsbeth von Oye, I find. Not so much because the language is difficult, but because all this stuff about self-crucifixion, belts with nails on, God instructing her to keep torturing herself so that he can feed from her inner marrow and above all the bits about the maggots actually makes me feel ever so slightly physically sick.
I'm also having difficulty - at least partly because I find the underlying theological assumptions so questionable and repellent - not emulating the attitude of an early C 20th scholar and just stamping it as 'pathological' and turning, with relief, to something less icky. Not every male scholastic labling of a female text as 'sick' is necessarily the reslut of sexism as such, though it may well result in a failure to find a meaningful way to read the text.
Sometimes one wonders if such a way exists. I certainly don't think that, looking at it with a modern Christian hat one (whatever that may look like!) rather than a mortar-board, that E v. O is one of the mediaeval mystics who modern believers will get much from. And even from a more academic point of view, it's difficult not just to view it as a train wreck...
One thing which I do very much admire about many mediaeval female religious writers is the ability to find meaning in their suffering, to use it as a means of imitatio Christi and as a way to God; but it becomes very problematic for me when it's self inflicted (rather than as a result of illness or problems arising from the active service of others). Of course, looked at historically, women were very circumscribed in how they could serve God, and they became more limited into the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Elsbeth probably didn't even have the option of a more active life, even had she wanted it, in the same way that (say) Elisabeth of Thuringia did. So perhaps these are texts of 'sickness' in a different sense to that which one is inclined to think - the 'sickness' is primarily in the church of the time and its unholy structures, and less so in the women, or only secondarily so. I have sometimes wondered if the female religious writers who were so obsessed with the Sacrament of the Altar weren't 'really' experiencing something that a modern liberal would identify with a call to the priesthood rather than to the nunnery (here endeth the a-historical reflections which doubtless interest nobody bar me - and certainly wouldn't please my supervisor!)
I'm also having difficulty - at least partly because I find the underlying theological assumptions so questionable and repellent - not emulating the attitude of an early C 20th scholar and just stamping it as 'pathological' and turning, with relief, to something less icky. Not every male scholastic labling of a female text as 'sick' is necessarily the reslut of sexism as such, though it may well result in a failure to find a meaningful way to read the text.
Sometimes one wonders if such a way exists. I certainly don't think that, looking at it with a modern Christian hat one (whatever that may look like!) rather than a mortar-board, that E v. O is one of the mediaeval mystics who modern believers will get much from. And even from a more academic point of view, it's difficult not just to view it as a train wreck...
One thing which I do very much admire about many mediaeval female religious writers is the ability to find meaning in their suffering, to use it as a means of imitatio Christi and as a way to God; but it becomes very problematic for me when it's self inflicted (rather than as a result of illness or problems arising from the active service of others). Of course, looked at historically, women were very circumscribed in how they could serve God, and they became more limited into the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Elsbeth probably didn't even have the option of a more active life, even had she wanted it, in the same way that (say) Elisabeth of Thuringia did. So perhaps these are texts of 'sickness' in a different sense to that which one is inclined to think - the 'sickness' is primarily in the church of the time and its unholy structures, and less so in the women, or only secondarily so. I have sometimes wondered if the female religious writers who were so obsessed with the Sacrament of the Altar weren't 'really' experiencing something that a modern liberal would identify with a call to the priesthood rather than to the nunnery (here endeth the a-historical reflections which doubtless interest nobody bar me - and certainly wouldn't please my supervisor!)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 11:35 am (UTC)But I have to say, eww, maggots.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 12:38 pm (UTC)She was a Dominican nun - AFIAK nothing is known of her origins, but she certainly couldn't gad about on pilgrimages like Margery Kempe did. She did, however, have access to a scribe or may have written her book herself (it's first person, which makes it more immediate and therefore more disturbing). There are other instances of other people roughly contemporary to her going in for self-mutilation as a devotional practice (including at least one man, the Dominican friar Heinrich Seuse) - but Elsbeth is much more extreme, both in terms of what she describes and the extent to which it's foregrounded in her book - most texts which refer to extreme austerities only give it a few paragraphs or chapters, but there's really nothing else in Elsbeth.
And yeah, ewww, maggots.
†although one is forthcoming at some unspecified future date.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 11:47 am (UTC)No, it's no good, I just can't beyond "yuck" (and the God feeding from the inner marrow bit, just wierd).
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 12:44 pm (UTC)The positive side of the maggots had occured to me, but it's still rather revolting...
The pus was indeed Catherine of Sienna, which is also utterly disgusting, though I think it seems slightly more - acceptable, I suppose - was because at least one of the reasons given for it was that she was apparently trying to get over her disgust at the symptoms of leprosy that was making her an inefficient nurse. I'm sure there are more hygienic methods fo doing this and it's not one I'd recommend, but it did have a pragmatic justification involving the needs of others, over and above 'I am a wicked person and must mortify my flesh', though that was part of it too. But again, she must have had a very efficient immune system too!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 03:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 07:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 09:07 pm (UTC)I was Sekritly Afraid of getting leprosy as a child, thanks to the headmistress's assemblies on the subject. It was a relief to grow up, read up on it, and learn that this was an Unlikely Fate, though Thomas Covenant was a setback. Hurrah for the BCG vaccine.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 09:32 pm (UTC)I remember a Sunday school teacher pointing out that leprosy wasn't particularly catching, but I did develop something of a fear of TB. I blame the Chalet School....
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-15 10:49 am (UTC)(Ilike the Secret Water icon).
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-15 06:38 pm (UTC)Syphillis does indeed include weeping sores - it's the main vector of transmission, other than mother-child via the placenta. (Hence gloomy plays by Ibsen, which was why I looked the symptoms up originally. or maybe it was something in Thomas Mann...)
The icon's nice, isn't it? It's by keswindhover - she's done a whole lot of them, but I thought that one worked best.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 12:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 12:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 03:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 04:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 12:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 02:43 pm (UTC)I really should do something about that!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-14 07:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-15 01:48 am (UTC)That and I find I absolutely must friend somebody going by the name "Tree and Leaf".
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-15 10:14 pm (UTC)It's an interesting philosophical point that the ideological sickness of a religion (as practiced) can work itself out into physical sickness in its adherents.
But for me the even more interesting point is that the sickness in the individual can itself be productive spiritually. Though in a lot of cases it just breaks people, so I'm not trying to justify it on those grounds. But it's ... interesting. Or grace. Or, most likely, both.