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Examining
the Concept of Authorship in Veronica Franco’s Texts
By
Monica Hernandez
Women’s historical and literary
experience varies to a large extent from that of men’s. The
Italian renaissance from the late fifteenth-century to the seventeenth
century is one example. Italy was significantly ahead of the rest
of Europe thanks to its early consolidation of city-states, the mercantile
economy, and its quick reorganization of post feudal social relations.
“These developments reorganized Italian society…and affected
women adversely, so much that there was no renaissance for women-at
least not during the Renaissance” (1). The Humanist tendencies
of artists, intellectuals, scholars and scientists, looked for inspiration
in the literary, artistic, religious and medical traditions of the
patriarchal Classic Era, an extremely patriarchal era. During the
Renaissance, “only in relation to the institution of the family
did…civic humanism take up questions of love and sexuality.
They developed the bourgeois sex-role system, placing man in the public
sphere and the patrician women in the home, requiring chastity and
motherhood from them” (2). Female chastity ensured the integrity
and continuity of the male-headed household. Perhaps more importantly,
the norm of female chastity, as the way to protect the patriarch’s
line of descent, invigorated the religious revivalism that fueled
criticisms of female prostitution. Concerned with the centralization
of the Italian cities and the supervision of female sexuality, religious
leaders targeted those “liberated” women who worked as
prostitutes. A Spanish-catholic churchman described the function of
the brothel as “that of the stable or latrine for the house.
Because just as the city keeps itself open by providing a separate
place where filth and dung are gathered… so… acts the
brothel: where the filth and ugliness of the flesh are gathered like
the garbage and dung of the city” (3).
During the fifteenth and sixteenth century Italy set up houses and
orders to give “the opportunity for these women to leave the
life of sin” (4). At the same time, Venetian courtesans, well-accommodated
and highly-educated prostitutes, held great political and social status.
At extremely high fees the onesta cortegianas were sexual
intimate with the elite of Venice and the merchants, ambassadors and
kings that traveled to the city. “To succeed as a courtesan,
a woman needed to be beautiful, sophisticated in her dress and manners,
and an elegant, cultivated conversationalist. If she demonstrated
her intellectual powers by writing and publishing poetry and prose,
so much the better” (5). Such was the case of Veronica Franco,
a Venetian courtesan. She was born in 1546 and married at a young
age to a doctor named Paolo Panizza, Veronica later devoted herself
to the life of a rich courtesan. By the year 1562 she had allied herself
with distinguished men that held great political power and literary
prestige (6). With the protection of these men and her reputation
as a beautiful and learned courtesan Franco published Poems in
Tirza in 1575, and Familiar Letters in 1580.
Franco recognized herself as an onesta cortegiana who wrote
well and extensively. According to Ann Rosalind Jones and Margaret
F. Rosenthal, two contemporary translators of Franco’s works,
Franco wrote to establish her reputation as a courtesan-writer to
the elite. By profiting from her public status as a prominent courtesan
she used “this literary form to comment philosophically on the
behavior of her contemporaries in ways that could raise her status
as a…writer” (7). In Familiar Letters to Various People,
Franco writes of sonnets addressed to the French king Henry III after
his entry into Venice in 1574. In the sonnets, she thanks him for
showing interest in her literary production by exalting his virtues
as a king. The second sonnet redefines the theoretical questions in
a literary text of the speaker and the listener, and the codes they
share to communicate.
Take King, sum of virtue and perfection,
what my hand reaches out to give you:
this carved and colored countenance,
in which my living, real self is represented.
and if such a lowly and imperfect image
is not what your blessed gaze expects
a small spark can still kindle a great flame. (8)
Franco achieved success as a courtesan
by reducing her everyday routine to a dramatic display of her sexuality
and attractiveness. In the sonnet, she also reduces her self-representation
to the approval of the male gaze. However, the fact that she writes
of her “real self…[as] a lowly and imperfect image”,
subject to the gaze of a king, connotes an important set of political
issues about why is she really empowered for the articulation of
her discourse. By precisely using the socially constructed gendered
codes and norms of submissive femininity and the images of beauty
for a courtesan, she affirms her voice and opinion, something that
women in the sixteenth century Renaissance were far from ever obtaining.
Through the reassertion of her status as a courtesan, who is subject
to the desire of men, Franco reclaims her authority as a female
writer addressing a king.
Her assertion of authority as a female writer is clear through her
discussion later on in this same sonnet of the king’s heroism.
Her writing becomes bold and masculine, traits commonly associated
as masculine.
And because your undying, celestial valor
tested by a thousand trials in war and peace,
filled my soul with noble wonder, so the desire
felt in a woman’s heart to raise you above heaven…
expressed and proved, in this likeness of me. (9)
The importance of Franco’s
insistence on making reference to a woman’s desire, a woman’s
heart, and a woman’s soul lies in the fact that she delineates
a sexual, emotional, and intellectual sphere in the woman as substantially
different from that in the man. Indeed, Franco’s differentiation
of the sexes opens a range of philosophical possibilities in terms
of her portrayal of a moment in the Renaissance culture. For “sexual
difference thus seems [to be] already part of the logic that drives
[her] writing…. [The] attitudes toward sexual difference ‘generate
and structure [her] literary texts’ [in the same way that her]
texts generate sexual difference” (10). The clearly defined
boundaries between genders in the highly patriarchal Venetian society
seep through Franco’s texts. A woman’s desire and heart
differ substantially from a man’s. By using a king, the epitome
of manly virtue and courage, she suggests another kind of sexual differentiation,
not one that subordinates the female image to the male gaze, but one
that exalts women’s differences from men.
Due to the rigidity of realms in which men and women operated during
this period in history, only a few women in early modern Europe wrote.
They rarely received the education that would enable them to write.
Speaking out was transgressing the norm of female chastity. The question
that therefore arises asks: how does Franco’s prose and poetry
that exalts women’s difference from men, compare to the sixteenth
century norms of authorship? Michel Foucault argues that the particular
cultural systems of valorization envelop authors and their work. The
individual status given to authors by society departs from “the
[social] conditions that fostered the formulation of the fundamental
critical category of the [author] and his work” (11) Society
values the singular relationship between author and texts because
the author remains as a formulator of its own discourses that cannot
be attributed to others. Franco’s Familiar Letters
featured stylish poems addressed to Henri III. It also included trivial
requests and comments of personal gratitude. In Letter 4,
Franco advises a friend in adversity, “I have nothing to tell
you except exactly what you once told me…Vain and foolish is
the man who thinks he can pass without troubles through this mortal
life” (12). Her advice might have not been particularly special
to the Venetians if she did not enjoy, as Foucault wrote, the conditions
that foster the cultural valorization of an author and his work. Franco
was already a public figure as a successful courtesan. Venetian society
acknowledged Franco’s mundane letters by publishing them. This
would not have happed if they were letters written by other women
on similar topics.
In Familiar Letters, Franco reinforces her sexual desirability
by showing what defines female subjectivity as different from the
male. Franco’s celebration of her heightened sexuality as a
prostitute, allowed her to publish commentaries of everyday life.
Given her extraordinary success as a courtesan, the public sphere
in which she operated and worked approved her literary production.
Her open display of her sexuality in both the literary and public
domain reinforced her public status of a woman. This made her capable
of obtaining greater independence in the eyes of the Venetian public.
By reclaiming her sexual desirability that is perceived to be dependent
on the male public alone, she actually reclaims the control of her
status as woman in society.
In the same manner that the public sphere approved her literary production,
it influenced the range and scope of Franco’s creative activity.
She presented herself as a public figure, seen and admired by influential
men, and speaking directly to them. In the collection of Poems
in Tirza published in 1575, Franco departs from the neutral tone
throughout her Familiar Letters to a more sexual one. In
Capitolio 2 Franco writes to Marco Venier, “so sweet
and delicious do I become, when I an in bed with a man who, I sense,
loves and enjoys me, that the pleasure I bring excels all delight”
(13). The erotically charged verses connote her life as a prostitute.
The open display of her body in her work-sphere grants her license
and authority over the publication of her verses. Franco literally
becomes doubly public. Later on in the same poem Franco reinforces
the degree of her private control in the portrayal of her public sexuality.
Phoebus, who serves
the goddess of love…comes to
reveal to my mind the positions that Venus assumes
with him when she holds him in sweet embraces;
so that I, well taught in such matters know how to
perform so well in bed that this art exceeds Apollo’s
by far, and my signing and writing are both forgotten
by the man who experiences me in this way which
Venus reveals to people who serve her. (14)
Franco separates her writing from lovemaking,
and yet the fact that she portrays herself as both the author of the
written word and the male delight. This connotes the possibility of
an unrestricted relationship between woman’s sexuality and her
writing. In the article, “Sorties: Out and Out: Attacks/Ways
out/Forays,” Hélène Cixous claims that writing
outside the phallocentric discourse that generally permeates literature
requires liberation from the constraining notions that women’s
bodies are inferior and subject to male-dominance. “It is in
writing from woman and toward woman, and in accepting the challenge
of the discourse controlled by the phallus, that woman will affirm
woman somewhere other than in silence…Woman must write her body”
(15).
The identification of the woman with her body in writing is crucial
for Cixous. “We have turned away from our bodies. Shamefully
we have been taught to be unaware of them, to lash them with stupid
modesty” (16). Franco’s Capitolio 2 certainly
responds to Cixous’s arguments concerning women writing about
femininity, sexuality and the erotic. Franco’s openness with
her own sexuality made her an easy target for public scrutiny. In
the Capitolio 16 Franco responds to a male poet who has insulted
her by saying that “a woman whose fame makes to right to be
proud, who stands out for beauty or for courage, and far exceeds all
others in virtue-such a woman is rightly called unique…”
(17). And yet “when we women, too, have weapons and training,
we will be able to prove to all men that we have hands and feet and
hearts like yours…and though we may be tender and delicate…I
undertake to defend all women against you…” (18). Here
Franco believes that she protects all women by defending her beauty
and her success. The weaponry she refers to is precisely her knowledge
acquired through the life as a courtesan. According to Cixous, Franco
as a female writer “defends the ‘logic’ of her discourse
with her body; her flesh speaks true. She inscribes what she is saying
because she does not deny unconscious drives the unmanageable part
they play in speech” (19).
Franco corresponds to Cixous’s theories of women inscribing
their body in their writing and remaining comfortable with their sense
of female sexuality. She also critiqued the life of a courtesan. In
Letter 22 of Familiar Letter to
Various People she
warns a mother about turning her daughter into a courtesan.
And because you’re her mother, if she should become
a prostitute, you’d become her go-between and deserve
the harshest punishment. I’ll add that even if the fate
should be completely favorable and kind to her, this is
a life that always turns out to be a misery. It’s a most
wretched thing, contrary to human reason, to subject
one’s body and labor to a slavery… To make oneself
prey to so many men… at the risk of rushing toward the
shipwreck of your own mind and body… among all the
world’s calamities, this is the worst. (20)
Franco points out that being subjected
to her body for work constitutes a form of slavery. The commodification
of the female body, in which its display remains to the use and
gaze of others, reduces a woman’s individuality. Being subjected
to work within this process of commodification, in which the display
of the body stands as the sole signifier of a woman’s sexuality,
enslaves women. Women are completely alienated from their sense
of self. They are compelled to construct their individuality on
the imposed definitions of sexuality and desirability from others.
Franco’s warning echoes Cixous’s assertions that “in
woman there is always, more or less, something of ‘the mother’…
Even if the phallic mystification has contaminated good relations
in general…She writes with white ink” (21). Franco’s
stark criticisms of the daughter’s mother reinforces that
“there is always at least a little good mother milk left in
her” (22), and makes her poems humane.
In the book Rewriting the Renaissance, Ann Rosalind Jones
claims that Renaissance society tolerated publications of Franco’s
writings, “because it emphasized the superiority of the beloved
in ways that presented no threat to ideologies of feminine chastity
and masculine authority” (23). Indeed, departing from Franco’s
motherly tone in Letter 22, one could argue that she just
uses her femininity as a basis for her claims which are “in
turn shaped and contained by the constant presence of men as the
ultimate critics-of women’s beauty, of their merit as poets,
of their present and future reputations” (24).
Franco transgressed the sixteenth
century norms of chastity and silence for women in literature to
write about her life, her lovers and the reality of a courtesan.
Although one could argue “she was by necessity an individualist
making her own way” (25) by basing her prose and poetry in
an uncensored heightened sexuality to market herself among the Venetian
elite. But she also wrote about the dangers of male abuse for women
who shared her profession. In Capitolio 24, from her collection
of poems, she defends a fellow courtesan from a man who has tried
to slash her face.
Look with the eyes of your good sense
and see for yourself how unworthy of you
it is to insult and injure women.
Unfortunate sex, always subjected and
without freedom!
But this has certainly been no fault of ours,
Because, if we are not as strong as men,
like men we have a mind and intellect. (26)
Capitolio 24, in conjunction with Letter
22 of Familiar Letters, reveals that Franco’s
texts incorporated criticisms for both the men and women in her
society. She remains in the history of women’s literature
as a proto-feminist writer. The cultural understanding of Franco’s
enhanced sexuality in the public sphere differs from contemporary
notions. In her case it gave her status to challenge the accepted
forms of writing for women. And once her writings became significant
in society, she used it to create a social awareness of the realities
of the women in her time. “In her draft to the Venetian council
in 1577 she proposed that the government found a new kind of home
for women who, because they were already married or the mothers
of children, were ineligible for the shelters already in place”
(27).
The context in which Franco operated profited from the publicity
of the sense of a unique female sexuality. Working as a woman subjected
to her body, Franco constituted the “greatest victim of patriarchy
but [as a writer she stands] as its most dangerous rebel…who
inscribes rebellion in the very act of writing” (28). Franco’s
display of her sexuality and desirability in Venetian society helped
to refashion her self-representation according to her own voice
and opinion. In this manner, she challenged the roles of woman as
a virgin, wife, mother and daughter. Through her writing, Franco
generated a feminine literary culture, which is essentially different
from men’s. Her re-conceptualization of women and their relationship
to the body gave female sexuality a new definition.
Bibliography:
Anderson, Bonnie S &
Judith Zinsser. A History of Their Own: Women in Europe From
Prehistory to the Present. Harper & Row Publishers: New
York, 1988.
Belsey, Catherine & Jane Moore.
The Feminist Reader. Blackwell Publishers:
Massachusetts, 1997.
Bridenthal, Renate & Claudia
Koonz. Becoming Visible: Women in European History. Houghton
Mifflin: Boston, 1977.
Cosman, Carol & Joan Keefe &
Kathleen Weaver eds. The Penguin Book of Women Poets. The
Viking Press: New York, 1978.
Ferguson, Margaret & Maureen
Quilligan & Nancy J. Vickers. Rewriting the Renaissance: The Discourses of Sexual Difference in Early Modern Europe.
The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1986.
Franco, Veronica (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F.Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998.
Foucault, Michel (Daniel F. Bouchard).
Language, Counter-Memory, Practice. Cornell University
Press: 1977.
Laqueur, Thomas. Making Sex:
Body and Gender from the Greeks to Freud. Harvard University
Press: Cambridge, 1990.
Footnotes:
1. Renate, Bridenthal, &
Claudia Koonz. Becoming Visible: Women in European History.
(Houghton Mifflin: Boston, 1977), 139.
2. Renate, Bridenthal, & Claudia Koonz. Becoming Visible:
Women in European History. (Houghton Mifflin: Boston, 1977),
154.
3. Bonnie S. Anderson & Judith P.Zinsser. A History of Their
Own: Women in Europe From Prehistory to the Present. (Harper&Row
Publishers: New York, 1988), 365.
4. Bonnie S. Anderson & Judith P.Zinsser. A History of Their
Own: Women in Europe From Prehistory to the Present. (Harper&Row
Publishers: New York, 1988), 366.
5. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
1.
6. Margaret W. Ferguson, Maureen Quilligan & Nancy J.Vickers.
Rewriting the Renaissance: The Discourses of Sexual Difference in Early Modern Europe. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago,
1986), 303.
7. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
9.
8. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
28.
9. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
28.
10. Thomas Laqueur. Making Sex: Body and Gender from the Greeks
to Freud. (Harvard University Press: Cambridge, 1990), 17.
11. Michel Foucault (Donald F.Bouchard & Sherry Simon transl.)
Language, Counter-memory, Practice. (Cornell University
Press: New York, 1977), 115.
12. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
28-29.
13. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
69.
14. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
69.
15. Catherine Belsey & Jane Moore. The Feminist Reader.
(Blackwell Publishers Company: Massachusetts, 1989), 98-100.
16. Catherine Belsey & Jane Moore. The Feminist Reader.
(Blackwell Publishers Company: Massachusetts, 1989), 100.
17. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
169.
18. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
165.
19. Catherine Belsey & Jane Moore. The Feminist Reader.
(Blackwell Publishers Company: Massachusetts, 1989), 98.
20. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
39.
21. Catherine Belsey & Jane Moore. The Feminist Reader.
(Blackwell Publishers Company: Massachusetts, 1989), 99.
22. Catherine Belsey & Jane Moore. The Feminist Reader.
(Blackwell Publishers Company: Massachusetts, 1989), 99.
23. Margaret W. Ferguson, Maureen Quilligan & Nancy J.Vickers.
Rewriting the Renaissance: The Discourses of Sexual Difference in Early Modern Europe. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago,
1998), 300.
24. Margaret W. Ferguson, Maureen Quilligan & Nancy J.Vickers.
Rewriting the Renaissance: The Discourses of Sexual Difference
in Early Modern Europe. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago,
1998), 304.
25. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
3.
26. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
245.
27. Veronica Franco (Ann Rosalind Jones & Margaret F. Rosenthal
transl.) The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: Poems and Selected
Letters. (The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1998),
5.
28. Catherine Belsey & Jane Moore. The Feminist Reader.
(Blackwell Publishers Company: Massachusetts, 1989), 10.
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