matriarchy in 11th-century Germany: the case of Ruodlieb

Tamar the Great, Queen of Georgia

A great king counseled the noble knight Ruodlieb to marry only upon his mother’s advice. Ruodlieb’s mother advised:

We should desire, if you do, that we now call
our relatives and loyal friends together, that
with their advice and with their loyal help you can
find a woman to be your wife.

{ Vellem, si velles, quo nostros congenerales
Et nobis fidos nunc conveniamus amicos,
Quorum consilio quorumque iuvamine fido
Possis in uxorem reperire tibi mulierem. }[1]

Ruodlieb didn’t rebuff, resent, or ignore his mother’s urgings to marry. He responded “very calmly {placidissime}.” He also acted promptly and obediently:

Tomorrow we will tell our friends and relatives
To gather here with us as quickly as they can.
If you think we should follow the advice that they
Give me, I will not fail to carry out your wish.

{ Cras demandemus consanguineis et amicis,
Ut nos conveniant quam velocissime possint.
Quod mihi consilium dant, si censes id agendum,
Non praetermittam, quod vultis quin ego solvam. }

At that gathering to help Ruodlieb find a wife, Ruodlieb spoke “just as his mother had advised {genitrix sua ceu sibi suasi}.” Ruodlieb pursued marriage to please his mother. He was a leader among men, but a follower of his mother.

Ruodlieb entrusted his household to his mother for ten years. Because lords in his home realm weren’t favoring him, Ruodlieb decided to seek service elsewhere. Ruodlieb’s mother lived with him. Before leaving, he entrusted all his affairs to her. These actions occurred very early in the story.[2] The reader doesn’t know that Ruodlieb has no wife, no siblings, and his father is dead. Delaying narration of these details highlights the dominance of Ruodlieb’s mother in his life.

Ruodlieb could have entrusted his affairs to someone other than his mother. Other persons loved Ruodlieb and had long-term relationships with him. Ruodlieb left home with a squire who had served him from childhood. The house servants wept and groaned when Ruodlieb left. They joyously strained to catch first sight of him when they heard news of his return. Ruodlieb consulted loyal friends and relatives about seeking a wife. He could have entrusted his affairs to one of them. Instead, Ruodlieb burdened his aged mother with his affairs.

Ruodlieb’s emotional relationship with his mother mattered more to him than his position in broad networks of men. While in service to a foreign king, Ruodlieb received a message from his “dear mother {dilecta mater}.” The message had two parts. The first part was from Ruodlieb’s home lords. It explained Ruodlieb’s current standing among men, the need for his skills, the fall of his enemies, and possibilities for remuneration. The second part of the message was his mother’s emotional appeal to him:

My darling son, remember your unhappy mother
whom, as you know, when you departed you deserted
both unconsoled and widowed by a double cause:
once by your father, the second time by you, my son.
As long as you were with me, you eased all my woes;
when you departed, though, you multiplied my sighs.

{ Mi fili care, miserae matris memorare,
Quam, sicut nosti, discedens deseruisti
Inconsolatam, bina causa viduatam,
In genitore tuo semel, in te, nate, secundo.
Dum mecum fueras, mala cuncta mihi relevabas,
Cum discessisti, gemitus mihi multiplicasti. }

That’s a claim for sympathy with a thrust of shaming. Ruodlieb’s mother’s suffering was his fault. His mother claimed the moral high ground:

However, I decided I could bear it somehow,
provided you could live your wretched life safe from
so many enemies who were so strong and fearsome.
Because they all have now been maimed or killed,
dear son, return, and bring your mother’s grieving to an end.

{ Sed tamen utcumque decernebam tolerare,
Secure miseram dum posses ducere vitam
Prae tot tam validis tibi tam diris inimicis.
Qui quia sunt cuncti mutilati sive perempti,
Fili kare, redi, luctus finem dato matri. }

But in the end his mother made clear it wasn’t just about her:

By your arrival gladden all your relatives,
not only them but all your countrymen as well.

{ Adventuque tuo consanguineos hylarato,
Non solumque tuos, sed et omnes compatriotas! }

Ruodlieb didn’t react to his lords’ message. He cried “for his lonely mother {pro sola matre}.” He grieved for her intensely. Showing the message to the king, Ruodlieb described it as deeply disturbing. He evidently wasn’t referring to his lords’ praising him and welcoming him to return. The king understood Ruodlieb’s focus, but described it much differently: “the message from your mother is extremely pleasing {Atque tuae matris nimis est legatio suavis}.”[3] The king released Ruodlieb to go home to his mother. That Ruodlieb was also going home to his lords hardly mattered.

The emotional intensity of Ruodlieb’s relationship with his mother is evident in his interaction with his mother’s goddaughter. She, a widow, looked to Ruodlieb for romance. He felt no passion for her. But he passionately sought information about his mother (her godmother):

Now, mistress, how long since you saw your godmother?
Please tell me, is she well? And does she live in peace?
Please tell me, when did she become your godmother?
Has she borne me a brother whom you raised from that
baptismal fount, or did she raise your daughter from
the fount?

{ Nunc, hera, commatrem quam proxime videris, ipsam,
Dic mihi, si valeat, si tranquille sua res stet,
Quandoque commater fieret tua, si mihi frater
Ex illa sit, quem de fonte levaveris, inque,
Anne tuam natam de fonte levaverit illa. }

The goddaughter in response pushed the emotional level higher:

Ah me, what have you said? Do you think she has wed,
For whom her life has lost its sweetness without you?
For she has lost her vision from her tears for you.

{ Ah, quid dixisti, quod eam nupsisse putasti,
Cui fuerat sine te non ipsum vivere dulce;
Nam flendo visum post te iam perdidit ipsum. }[4]

Ruodlieb in response wept. This scene, like similar scenes in the late-eighteenth-century English literature of sensibility, encourages personal characterization and identification. Almost everyone knows what it feels like to love one’s mother.

Ruodlieb’s relationship with his mother is also characterized in more stereotypically medieval ways. Consider table arrangements at the banquet celebrating Ruodlieb’s return home:

The knight Ruodlieb went to the table and sat down …
He did not wish to sit up at the head, however;
but like a guest sat humbly on his mother’s right,
and gladly he gave her complete authority.
Respectfully he took that which she gave to him.
She cut the bread and passed it out to all the group,
and passed to everyone a dish of special foods;
she sent around a bowl of wine, and sometimes mead.

{ Sic pedat ad mensam, comes insed …
Non tamen in solio voluit residere supremo,
Sed subiective matri dextrim, velut hospes
Atque libens totum sibi permisit dominatum;
Haec quod ei dederat, reverenter suscipiebat.
Incidens panem turbam partitur in omnem,
Transmisit cuivis discum specialibus escis,
Cum vino pateram mittens, aliquando medonem. }[5]

After the banquet, Ruodlieb went “with his beloved mother {cum dilecta sibi matre}” to a private room to show her the treasures he had acquired during his time away from home. Excited with showing his mother his wealth, he broke open both loaves that the king had given him. Breaking the second loaf violated the king’s instructions.[6] Ruodlieb’s child-like excitement with his mother obliviated the instructions he had received from the king.

Compared to the wisdom the king gave Ruodlieb, Ruodlieb’s mother’s counsel would have been more suspect to medieval listeners. His mother portrayed the ravages of old age for a woman. Among its evocative descriptions, her portrait described effects of aging on a woman’s hair:

The golden-colored hair that once hung to her buttocks,
bound up in separate braids and covering her back,
sticks up grotesquely, terrible to see, as if
her head had just been drawn, ass first, through shrubbery.

{ Et, prius usque nates qui, crines auricolores
Pendent discretim dorsum velando pilatim,
Extant horribiles terrentes inspicientes,
Per saepem caput ut anuatim sit sibi tractum. }[7]

Ruodlieb’s mother then declared that “age overcomes an agile man as it does woman {Sic agilem iuvenem senium domat ut mulierem}.” Her portrait of an old man ends with his plea for death:

Death, you who are alone the end of human woes,
why do you come for me so late? Why do you not
release me from my prison?

{ tum dicens saepissime secum:
“Mors, humanorum finis tu sola malorum,
Cur mihi sera venis? cur non me carcere solvis?” }[8]

These paired portraits are highly literary and highly exaggerated. They seem to occur in the context of urging Ruodlieb to marry. Presumably his mother wanted him to marry a young woman before he got too old. But Ruodlieb earlier saw the loving marriage of a young man and an old woman. Compared to his mother’s words, the king’s wisdom was less rhetorical. Its validity was also realized in the course of the narrative. Moreover, the king provided wisdom as a chosen gift. “Ruodlieb’s mother did not cease giving him her frequent warnings {Non cessat mater Ruotlieb minitare frequenter}.”[9] Frequent warnings tend to have the value of nagging.

A change in the depiction of Ruodlieb’s mother seems to have occurred from the middle of the penultimate surviving fragment. Ruodlieb’s mother then became a paragon of virtue:

The mother of that Ruodlieb, as best she could,
helped Christ’s unfortunates: the widows, orphans, pilgrims,
and thus she merited that Ruodlieb be greatly blessed.
For Christ revealed to her how he would glorify her son.

{ Sed Ruodlieb mater, quodcumque potest, operatur
In Christi miseros, viduas, orbos, peregrinos.
Inde merebatur, quod Ruodlieb valde beatur.
Namque revelat ei, velit hunc quam glorificare. }[10]

Ruodlieb’s mother was herself a widow and earlier lamented her misfortune in her son’s absence. That has no narrative relevance here.

The revelation to Ruodlieb’s mother indicated that Ruodlieb would become a king, marry, and receive greater honors. Information from a captured dwarf apparently confirmed that revelation. Ruodlieb’s mother remained humble and didn’t credit herself for her son’s forthcoming good fortune. The last words of Ruodlieb’s mother in the surviving text are pieties about giving thanks to God.[11] Earlier concern and wonder about Ruodlieb’s relationship with his mother are eliminated in the end.

Matriarchy is both subtle and beyond challenge.

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Notes:

[1] Ruodlieb XVI.11-14, from Latin text and Englisht trans. Kratz (1984) p. 187 (modified slightly). A Latin text of Ruodlieb is online. All subsequent quotes are similarly sourced. The subsequent three quotes are from XVI.19, 20-23, 41, id. pp. 187, 189.

The greater king’s counsel to defer to mother is at V.487, p. 125. Despite his subservience to his mother, Ruodlieb wasn’t a homebody. He won a major military victory in foreign service as commander-in-chief of the great king’s army.

[2] By line 16 of the story. Id. p. 75.

[3] All the quotes in the above paragraph are from Ruodlieb V.224-90, pp. 113, 115.

[4] Ruodlieb XII.1-9, p. 169 (previous two quotes).

[5] Ruodlieb XIII.10-17, id. p. 173.

[6] Ruodlieb XIII.35-60 (breaking open both loaves in private with his mother). Gold and jewels were hidden in what appeared to be loaves of bread. The king instructed Ruodlieb:

Do not break open these two loaves, my dearest man,
until you reach your mother, whom you love so dearly.
Then in her sight alone break the smaller loaf.
When sitting at your wedding with your bride, break the next.

{ Hos geminos panes numquam, karissime, frangas,
Primitus ad matrem venias quam tam tibi karam,
Cuius in aspectu solius frange minorem;
Cum sedeas nuptum cum sponsa, frange secundum. }

Ruodlieb V.549-52, p. 127.

[7] Ruodlieb XV.18-21, p. 183. On the importance of a woman’s hair, see my post on Paul and Thecla, especially note [5] and Galbi (1996) preprint p. 22.

[8] Ruodlieb XV.58-60, p. 185. Release from prison has been a common, broad rhetorical figure throughout literary history.

[9] Ruodlieb XV.65-6, p. 185. The king’s wisdom given as a gift to Ruodlieb is at V.451-526, pp. 123-7.

[10] Ruodlieb XVII.85-7. Zeydel perceived that the text changed from XVII.83:

From here on, the style of the work changes. There is occasional end-rhyme (e.g. ll. 85-87; 90-91), verbs of saying are omitted, and the scansion of the name Ruodlieb fluctuates (e.g. ll. 87 and 91). The handwriting, however, does not change. Perhaps there was some lapse of time after l. 82.

Zeydel (1959) p. 153. The literary treatment of Ruodlieb’s mother also changes sharply from that point.

[11] In Ruodlieb XVII.119-28, Ruodlieb’s mother states:

Remember, son, how often in his goodness God
has helped you and has rescued you from death itself,
and that He often helped you when you were in exile,
and let you come back to your homeland safe and wealthy.
I know that now you will obtain still greater honors,
but I fear very much to say the Lord has thus
rewarded us for ever doing anything
which has pleased Him — my son, beware of saying this!
What could we do, who have nothing but what He gives?
But whether you fare well or badly, give Him thanks!

{ Nate, recordare, quam saepe sua bonitate
Te deus adiuvit et ab ipsa morte redemit,
Et quod in exilio multum tibi subveniendo
Sospes vel locuples patriam dat quod repetebas.
Nunc scio, maiores nacturus eris quod honores,
Et timeo valde; dominum sic retribuisse
Nobis ambobus, umquam siquid faceremus,
Quod placuisset ei, caveas quod dicere, fili;
Nam quid possemus, qui nil, nisi quod dat, habemus?
Seu bene seu male contingat tibi, da sibi grates. }

Ruodlieb’s mother earlier was a much more subtle, complex character.

[image] Shota Rustaveli presents his poem to Queen Tamar of Georgia. Painting. Mihály Zichy, 1880s, Tbilisi, Georgai. Thanks to Air sign and Wikimedia Commons.

References:

Galbi, Douglas. 1996. “Through Eyes in the Storm: Aspects of the Personal History of Women Workers in the Industrial Revolution.” Social History 21(2): 142-59.

Kratz, Dennis M., trans. 1984. Waltharius, and Ruodlieb. New York: Garland Pub.

Zeydel, Edwin Hermann. 1959. Ruodlieb: the earliest courtly novel (after 1050); introduction, text, translation, commentary and textual notes. Chapel Hill: Univ. of North Carolina Press.

Psycho and Aphrodite through Apuleius’s Metamorphoses

Held, so he thought, on the charge of telling tales insulting the honor of women, the young soldier was thrust into a dark cave under the guard of an old man. He wasn’t even held in a proper cage like they get in Gitmo, no, they handcuffed him to the understrut of an old metal desk pulled out of branch command in the office refurbishing. The old man was the usual drunk ex-military, retired but not tired enough not to want to chew leather, swap war stories with the boys, and pocket some cheap pay for being a hired guard. The young soldier, only a few years out of West Point, hadn’t yet had military respect starved out of him. He addressed the old man with “Sir.”

Sir, I request to be informed of the details of the charges against me. Please, please, I need JAG representation, a lawyer, a law lover who will get things right and proper. My father was a general, and nothing made him prouder than when I entered West Point. His heart would break if he knew.

After a brutal battle with the Taliban, my best buddy had his legs blown off, and we struggled back to barracks and fell into bed. In the dark of night, I sweated with flashbacks of a mortar attack and the rockets red glare and bombs bursting in air, but our flag was still there, when all of a sudden the lights in the barracks snapped on. The intruders flashed Internal Affairs badges and yanked me out of my bed and marched me away. I don’t know why I’m here, sir, I just don’t know.

The young soldier began to sob and bang his head against the top drawer of the metal desk. That caused the other drawers to rattle and metallic sounds to echo off the walls of the cave. I knew how brave those soldiers are, and deep inside my animal hide, I felt sorry for him. The old man told him to man up, chin up, and get a grip on himself. Then the old man unsteadily stood up, and with his backside to the soldier and peering with half-opened eyes at no one, saluted. He then turned to the soldier.

You’re now in the toughest battle, the battle within. Back in Desert Storm, I was deep in the desert on patrol with Jack, Jim, and Johnny, the hardest-hitting Marines that ever came out of a bottle. A hellish sandstorm blew up, the sky vanished, and we were lost within the sandy earth. I lay down to die with my gun in my hands, and I was entombed in sand. But soon, suddenly, came a monsoon. I rose, born again in that rain. You too can rise again. The victor in battle is the loser. If you’re being tried for treason, you’re a loyal soldier. Let me tell you a lovely, true story I heard from my friends. And so he began.

Back in the days before women in combat meant pencil-pushing pussy jobs, there was a feared and ferocious Taliban fighter known as Aphrodite. She was beautiful and deadly. Central command sent special ops after her, man after man. But no matter how big the gun, and no matter how tightly he bound himself to it, she would shake him until he was numb, and then behead him.

Afghan cover girl for National Geographic

Mercury grew up working in the family grocery store in rural Tennessee. To earn more money he also carried the job of the local postman. One fateful day there came in the mail a sensational issue of National Geographic. He knew in his loins right away that he would lose it. On the cover was a stunningly beautiful Afghan girl with big green eyes that drew you in like a whirlpool. Just on the cusp of manhood, he spent many hours at night in the woods spending himself with the Afghan cover girl. He never delivered the issue. He desperately wanted to find her, or at least a wild, exotic girl like her.

He marched himself to the Marine Corps recruiting office and signed away his life. Neither big nor strong, he got through boot camp by wits and twists and turns. Within the Marine Corps, he joined the Signal Service and rose through the ranks as the sort of soldier who would deliver a message to Garcia. Because of his skills as a translator and unimpressive musculature, some of the Marines nicknamed him Hermaphroditus. But Mercury was better known as Psycho for his undercover communication missions which in command review were analyzed as psychotic.

Direct Ops, jealous that Signal Service was getting more missions and more resources because of Psycho, arranged to have him sent on a mission that, by straight-book tactical plans, he had no chance of return. His mission order was concise and direct: PSYCHO SEIZE APHRODITE STOP. Aphrodite, the ferocious Taliban fighter who beheaded Adonis and whom Ares had never succeeded in reaching! Psycho, throw down your guns and leap from a cliff with the hope that the wind will bear up your head! Then you would have a better chance to live!

A National Geographic mission wound its way slowly into mountainous Taliban territory. Its goal, under the funding document that the publisher approved, was to find again the Afghan cover girl and write a sensational story. No one suspected that the head of the National Geographic mission, a man full of fake journalistic credits, was actually Psycho.

The National Geographic delegation went from village to village, showing everyone the National Geographic Afghan cover girl issue. Most of the villagers looked sullenly mystified and turned a cold shoulder. One, however, an older man with a gleam in his eye, said that he knew that girl. Psycho, with the yearning of his youth swelling up with the force of memory and imagination, asked to be taken to her. An arduous, three-hour climb through rugged, desolate terrain brought them to her isolated village.

Three heavily armed Taliban men menacingly approached. Psycho showed them the National Geographic Afghan cover girl issue, that photo so touching and emotive, acclaimed and celebrated across America. One Taliban pointed his Kalashnikov at Psycho’s head, another grabbed Psycho’s arms and pinned them behind his back, while a third pushed Psycho’s local guide away and told him to leave immediately. Then a Taliban took off his shoe and began striking Psycho in the face with its sole, back and forth, the dung of Afghan rural life digging into Psycho’s cheeks. Then they emptied his pockets, stripped him to his red-blossom boxer shorts, and brought him inside a hut.

Afghan cover girl follow-up

The Afghan cover girl, now a middle-aged woman, was there. After again striking him in the face with a shoe’s sole, the men demanded, “Tell us why you are here.” Psycho, who had been silent while being crushed, declared solemnly, “So be it, I will, God willing.” Then he told his whole story, without deceit: his youth working the grocery store and delivering mail, his infatuation with the Afghan cover girl from that issue of National Geographic, his military service, and his mission. They told him, “Make peace with God and prepare to die.” He was about to be shot in the head and returned to the dust when the Afghan woman intervened. “Tie him on top of that bed,” she said, “arms and legs strapped to the corners, and then cover him with a blanket and leave him alone.”

Now it is the depths of the night, and a mild and merciful sound reaches his ears. Then, so alone and so unguarded, but tied down so exposed, Psycho is afraid for his masculinity. In fear and trembling, he lies quaking, and more than for any evil, he is in mortal terror of the unknown. And then the unknown woman is there: she had climbed into the bed, she had make Psycho her husband, and before the sun had risen she had hastily gone away. Psycho found that one of his hands had gotten free and was resting on his thigh. By the side of his bed had appeared tea, cooked lamb, a hookah, and flat bread, freshly made, it seemed. He ate a sumptuous meal for a starving man, and the hookah filled his mind with smoke. And over time, all this long time, these actions are repeated, in just this way. To be sure, this is how nature engineers such things: what was new and unanticipated had bestowed joy upon him through accustomed habit and repetition; and the sound of that indeterminate voice was a consolation in his isolation.

With the smoke from the hookah filling his mind, it drifted. If I were back in America, and there were a university in rural Tennessee, and if it had a class in classical Latin literature, and any students took it, the professor would teach that I’ve been raped, repeatedly, and through that trauma had traumatically bonded to my captors, and come to accept and like being raped. It would be like that news story of how a brutish man kept a girl, everywoman, as a sex slave for decades until she was finally rescued and educated. I chuckled and thought of National Geographic.

My one hand was free — was it free just so that I could drink tea and bring food and the hookah tube to my mouth? I sensed that the muscles of my hand and arm were moving during the night. Could it be possible, what if, what if I held her tight and wouldn’t let go, how could she fade from firm flesh to nothingness? If I held tight and didn’t let go, would that be the death of me?

He resolved to die to know if the Afghan cover girl was pressing against him in the night. In the depths of the night, the cover lifts slightly, and she slips in between his legs. He hooks his arm around her back and holds her tight. Before she had been bouncing upright, now she was tight against him and his hand was only moving slightly when it slid lower on her back. He buried his face in her black hair and in pleasure waited for the morning light.

“I am Aphrodite,” she moaned to him. The earth stopped moving for him, all the blood drained from his extremities, and it was as if he were sucked down in a whirlpool to a watery death. His pale skin turning cold blue, he pushed her face up to his. “You are the Afghan cover girl,” he whispered in a trembling voice. “I am Aphrodite,” she said again with a faint smile. She was the Afghan cover girl, she was Aphrodite — a double mission impossible, an explosion of fear and passion! Take me now, he said, slit my throat and cut off my head, I have seized life far beyond my dreams.

God is all-powerful and all-knowing, and nothing happens but what God wills. God willed that Psycho remember his mission orders: PSYCHO SEIZE APHRODITE STOP. God willed that a week earlier Aphrodite’s husband had been killed by an IED misplaced in the sheep’s meadow. No one could better guide the Taliban to avoid American forces than a former Signal Service leader. Psycho converted to Islam, pledged his allegiance to the Taliban, and married Aphrodite. They had a beautiful boy whom they named Hermaphroditus. Psycho, by expertly guiding the Taliban away from American forces, saved many lives. Soldiers here argue about whether he’s a hero, a traitor, or just a soldier who strictly followed his orders. But no one has any doubt that Psycho has a good life, especially since we heard that Aphrodite arranged for him to have three other beautiful, loving Afghan wives.

And that was the story that the old man told, in his drunkenness and delirium, to the captive and captivated soldier. And I — standing off to one side, not too far away — I was in anguish, believe you me, because I had neither steno books nor stylus to record such a beguiling fiction.

The Prosecutor-Advocate arrived with two assistants, all in crisply pressed uniforms with badges neatly ordered in colorful rows flaring on their breasts. The young soldier tilted back his head so that his handcuffed right hand could reach it in salute, but by pulling on the understrut he caused the center drawer of the desk above him to cha-chink open like a cash register. The officers ignored the metallic rattling and addressed him.

Soldier, you are charged with three counts of failing to offer to carry the pack of a woman soldier on full retreat from fearful and ferocious Taliban fire. According to the enacted Rules of Engagement for all active-fire acts in this theater, you are to ask the woman soldier if she wants you to carry her pack, asking politely, respectfully, and without any hint of inferiority. If she says no, you are to ask her again. If she says no, then you are to ask her a third time. If she says no again, then you are free to run as fast as you can with only your pack on your back. Did you receive the Bible-thick book of Rules of Engagement in the pre-mission briefing meeting? The young soldier nodded his head vigorously, but carefully, so as not to bang his head on the metal desk drawer above. Then he sputtered, “But sir, my buddy had his legs blown off in a brutal Taliban blast.” The officer glared at him, and said only, “Do you understand your rights?” The soldier started sobbing. The officer and his assistants remained stiff and solemn.

Outraged, I ambled over and nuzzled one assistant’s fingers, held curved inwards at the bottom of his straight arm. I licked his fingers and acted as if I were just an ass hoping for a carrot. The assistant, born and bred on a farm in Arkansas, unconsciously started stroking my ears. Playing the empty-headed ass, I positioned my rear next to the officer’s legs and let loose with a strong stream of piss, drenching his pants from the knees down and dulling the spit-shine of his black shoes. He turned to his assistant and said, “Lieutenant, get that ass out of here.” I was cruelly yanked by the halter to a far corner of the cave, all the while tingling with pleasure for my good deed. The officer announced, in a voice struggling to maintain command, that they would return in an hour. Then they retreated.

The old man, the retired ex-military hired guard, took a long drink from his bottle. Then he pulled out his pistol, stuck the barrel in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.

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Notes:

The story above is fictional and a parody. It’s meant as literary, social, and media commentary. War, suicides of soldiers, and the privacy of the Afghan woman famous for being on the cover of the National Geographic are serious matters. In my view, they haven’t been taken seriously enough in the past.

Fragmentary data on veterans’ suicides indicates that, as a best estimate, on average 22 veterans commit suicide per day in the U.S. Among those veterans committing suicide, more than 97% are men. U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs, Suicide Data Report, 2012, pp. 18, 22. Men’s deaths from suicides, like men’s deaths from interpersonal violence, attract relatively little public concern.

The story above is adapted from Apuleius’s Metamorphoses, 4.23-6.30. That section centers on what has come to be known at the Tale of Cupid and Psyche. The story above incorporates close adaptations of sections of Metamorphoses 5.4 and 6.25, from the outstanding English translation of Relihan (2007), also available in Relihan (2009). The later providers useful literary and philosophical context for Cupid and Psyche. Relihan’s A Reader’s Commentary on Cupid and Psyche is freely available online. My adaptation has benefited from Relihan and others’ commentary on Metamorphoses 5.4.

The Afghan girl appeared on the cover of the June, 1985, issue of National Geographic. The title of the article was “A Life Revealed: Along Afghanistan’s War-torn Frontier.” The National Geographic Society searched out and found the Afghan girl in 2002. That generated in the April, 2002, issue of National Geographic an article entitled “A Life Revealed,” with subtitle text, “Her eyes have captivated the world since she appeared on our cover in 1985. Now we can tell her story.” Wikipedia states:

a number of women who came forward and identified themselves erroneously as the famous Afghan Girl. In addition, after being shown the 1984 photo, a handful of young men erroneously identified Gula as their wife.

Afghan Girl Revealed” National Geographic interactive video and the “Afghan Girl Revealed” National Geographic slide show provide information consistent with Wikipedia’s statement and more details about the development of the story.

In 2002, the National Geographic Society established the Afghan Girls Fund. NG1. According to the National Geographic Society:

The Afghan Girls Fund (AGF) has worked to realize the wish of Sharbat Gula—whose arresting childhood photograph graced the cover of National Geographic magazine and captured the hearts of its readers—to improve the prospects of Afghan girls and women through education.

NG2. By September, 2002, the Afghan Girls Fund has raised about half a million dollars. NG3. By December 5, 2003, the fund had raised about $832,000. NG3. In 2008, the National Geographic expanded its effort to boys:

Beginning May 20, 2008, the National Geographic Society will undertake an important change: a new fund to expand the Society’s grant-making efforts to serve all children in Afghanistan—both girls and boys. The new Afghan Children’s Fund (ACF) replaces the current Afghan Girls Fund, a successful and purposeful grant-making program that raised more than $1,000,000 since its inception in 2002.

NG4. Despite considerable deterioration in conditions in Afghanistan from September, 2002, to 2008, the rate of fundraising dropped sharply after September, 2002. That’s a common pattern for the media blockbuster effect. The amount of money raised for Afghan girls and boys after 2008 was probably relatively small. Development agencies have prioritized girls and women relative to boys and men. That’s consistent with the value of attractive, vulnerable-looking women for fundraising.

The images in the article above are used under the fair use provisions of U.S. copyright law. Wikipedia documents fair-use justifications for its use of the National Geographic Afghan girl cover and the Afghan girl photograph. Those justifications are applicable here, with the purpose of an encyclopedic entry replaced by parody of the sensational value of the National Geographic story.

References:

Relihan, Joel C. 2007. Apuleius. The golden ass, or, A book of changes. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing.

Relihan, Joel C. 2009. Apuleius. The tale of Cupid and Psyche. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing.

NG1: National Geographic Society. “The Afghan Girls Fund Educates Young Women and Girls of Afghanistan Stewardship Update – August 2004.” Web page, saved in Internet Archive.

NG2: National Geographic Society. George Stuteville for National Geographic News, September 9, 2002. “Afghan Girls to Benefit From NG-Sponsored Education Fund.” Web page, saved in Internet Archive.

NG3: National Geographic Society. Jennifer Vernon for National Geographic News, December 5, 2003. “Afghan Girls Fund Update: Over $831,000 Raised.” Web page, saved in Internet Archive.

NG4: National Geographic Society. “Afghan Children’s Fund to Help Educate All Young Children of Afghanistan.” Web page, saved in Internet Archive.

erotics of aridity in Hildegard’s Ordo Virtutum

The flower in the meadow falls in the wind, the rain splashes it,
But you, Virginity, remain in the symphonies of the heavenly habitants:
you are the tender flower that will never grow dry.

{ Flos campi cadit vento, pluvia spargit eum.
O Virginitas, tu permanes in symphoniis supernorum civium:
unde es suavis flos qui numquam aresces. }

Along with seventeen or eighteen female solo voices, Hildegard of Bingen in her Play of the Virtues {Ordo Virtutum} included one male solo voice: the voice of the devil. The virtue-women and the soul-woman sing lyrical poetry. The devil-man shouts unpoetically. The play poetically figures destroying the “voracious wolf {lupus rapax}” and binding and laying low the “age-old snake {antiquus serpens}.” It also refers to “man’s wantonness {hominis lascivia}.”[1] Such rhetoric is common in the long and unloving history of disparaging men’s sexuality.

devil as tempter in Hildegard

Ordo Virtutum, however, is far more poetically sophisticated than caricaturing women as virtuous and men as demonic. The devil-man shouts his worldly promises. The underlying cause of the soul-woman’s fall is her incompletely formed carnal desire, her impetuousness, and her pride. Treating men as show horses merely to be ridden impetuously and pridefully in a sexual carousel demeans men’s persons. That behavior also tends to dry women’s sexuality to aridity. Storms that produce heavy wind and rain can pass through quickly to leave a scorching desert.

The virtue-women and the soul-woman remembered a man. Like a woman in love, his body encompassed them. He was the greatest of men, but had the lowest of worldly status. He knew what women are in the fullness of their carnal being. He implored God the Father to fulfill his promise:

Now remember that the fullness which was made in the beginning
need not have grown dry,
and that then you resolved
that your eye would never fail
until you saw my body full of buds.
For it wearies me that all my limbs are exposed to mockery:
Father, behold, I am showing you my wounds.

{ Nunc memor esto, quod plenitudo que in primo facta est
arescere non debuit,
et tunc te habuisti
quod oculus tuus numquam cederet
usque dum corpus meum videres plenum gemmarum.
Nam me fatigat quod omnia membra mea in irrisionem vadunt.
Pater, vide, vulnera mea tibi ostendo. }

Hildegard of Bingen’s play ends with instruction to the gathered soul-women:

So now, all you women,
bend your knees to the Father,
so that he may reach you his hand.

{ Ergo nunc, omnes homines,
genua vestra ad patrem vestrum flectite,
ut vobis manum suam porrigat. } [2]

Creation is restored to greenness and flowering from moist earth when soul-women remember the man’s wounds and humbly wait for the one masculine touch.

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Read more:

Notes:

[1] The epigram and the three subsequent quotes are from Hildegard of Bingen’s Play of the Virtues {Ordo Virtutum}, ll.  109-11, 221, 481va, 55 (all sung by the voices of virtues, except 481va, which is sung solo by the voice of victory), Latin text and English trans. from Dronke (1994) pp. 160-81. In l. 110, Dronke translated Virginitas as “Maidenhood.” I replaced “Maidenhood” with the less Victorian-sounding word “Virginity.”

One of the voices of the virtue-women is illegible in the manuscripts. If that voice is different from the other virtue-women, then there are eighteen female solo voices (seventeen virtue-women and the soul-woman). On the virtues, see Dabke (2006).

Hildegard wrote Ordo Virtutum no later than 1151. She wrote it in Latin verse with musical notation that has survived. It may have been performed on May 1, 1152, at the consecration of Hildegard’s Rupertsberg convent. Dronke (1994) p. 152.

Latin texts and English translations are available online from Peter Dronke, Christine Jolliffe, and Linda Marie Zaerr (English only).  A variety of song performances are available on YouTube.

[2] Ordo Virtutum, ll. 267-9, from Dronke (1994) p. 181. The previous quote is ll. 260-66. Both are sung by the voices of virtues and souls.

In l. 267, Dronke translated omnes homines as “all you people.” However, at l. 55, he translated hominis lasciviam as “man’s wantonness.” The Latin hominis most properly means human being, female and male. Men’s masculinity, however, is often effaced in referring to men, except in derogatory contexts. Ordo Virtutum, l. 55, refers to the devil-man, hence “man’s wantonness” is the best translation in context for hominis lasciviam. Ordo Virtutum was probably performed primarily for women in Hildegard’s Rupertsberg convent. Hence “all you women” seems the most appropriate translation for the concluding address omnes homines.

In l. 264, the phrase plenum gemmarum means both “full of gems/jewels” and “full of buds.” Id. p. 151. I have chosen above the later translation. Id. notes that this image connects to the prologue’s image of a tree blossoming. Hildegard’s Hymn to the Holy Spirit, l. 12, describes wounds transformed by the Holy Spirit into jewels. The association of Christ’s wounds (coagulated blood) with jewels (sphragis imagery) occurs in early Christianity. Dronke (1970) pp. 155-6. Ruodlieb V.99-129 describes making a jewel from a lynx’s urine. Such a claim goes back at least to the first-century in Dioscorides’s De Materia Medica and Pliny’s Natural History.

Like the Song of Songs, Ordo Virtutum includes poetry of erotic love, e.g.:

Virginity, you remain within the royal chamber.
How sweetly you burn in the King’s embraces,
when the Sun blazes through you,
never letting your noble flower fall.

{ O Virginitas, in regali thalamo stas.
O quam dulciter ardes in amplexibus regis,
cum te sol perfulget ita
quad nobilis flos tuus numquam cadet. }

ll. 104-7 (voice of chastity {castitas}), trans. Donke (1994) p. 169, with, as above, my translation of Virginitas as “Virginity.”

[image] The Tempter, illumination from Hildegard of Bingen, Scivias, Part II.7, Rupertsberg Codex, based on copy made at Hildegard Abbey in Eibingen, 1927-1933, via Böckeler (1954) Plate 18.  All the Scivias illuminations are online here. Campbell (2013) argues strongly that Hildegard oversaw the design of the illuminations.

References:

Böckeler, Maura. 1954. Wisse die Wege. Scivias. Nach dem Originaltext des illuminierten Rupertsberger Kodex ins Deutsche übertragen und bearb. Salzburg: O. Müller.

Cambell, Nathaniel M. 2013. “Imago expandit splendorem suum: Hildegard of Bingen’s Visio-Theological Designs in the Rupertsberg Scivias Manuscript.” Eikón Imago 2(2):1-68. Summary here.

Dabke, Roswitha. 2006. “The Hidden Scheme of the Virtues in Hildegard of Bingen’s Ordo Virtutum.” Parergon. 23 (1): 11-46.

Dronke, Peter. 1970. Poetic individuality in the Middle Ages: new departures in poetry, 1000-1150. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Dronke, Peter. 1994. Nine medieval Latin plays. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

America Solved: Alan Cohen's cry for family-law reform

great american family

Alan Cohen’s learned, passionate book on U.S. child support and child custody law is dedicated to his daughter:

This book is dedicated to my daughter, who has been a constant inspiration in my life. Her insights into the next generation of parents have been remarkable, as well as enlightening, and inspired me to strive for a better America and to complete this work.

Cohen has roots in the heart of America. He grew up ten miles from Ferguson, Missouri, attended the University of Missouri School of Journalism, and has lived and worked ten miles from Ferguson for twenty-five years as an attorney specializing in family law. As a child, Cohen admired Robert F. Kennedy. As an idealistic young adult, he went into law to advance justice and equality. His new book, America Solved: A New Family for the 21st Century, connects dysfunctional family law to personal alienation, broken community, and despair. Written in the great American tradition of progressive social reform, Cohen’s new book proposes new family law to heal America. It’s well worth reading.

Cohen passionately believes that long-term, intimate personal relations are vitally important for adults, children, and community. He argues that children need a stable family of adults showing enduring love for each other and their children. About half of black men ages 25 to 34 are noncustodial fathers.[1] Among black children, 72% are born to unmarried mothers. About a third of young black men are awaiting trial for a crime, incarcerated, or on probation or parole. Black family and community breakdown, although deeply related to the historical legacy of American slavery, is being generalized to all Americans through child support and child custody laws. Given the injustices of those laws, men are increasingly uninterested in marriage and having children. With men socially defined as criminally suspect persons, men’s aspirations shrink towards short-term sexual couplings and not being bothered. The next generation of boys have few men to inspire and guide them. That at best produces socio-economic stagnation; at worst, riots.

Cohen’s book provides a brief, well-informed historical overview of child support and child custody law. Changes in dominant public values, most recently in affirming homosexual marriage, have driven changes in family law. Yet the resulting law is wildly inconsistent. Why does the state punish men with long-term financial obligations for doing nothing more than engaging in consensual sex of reproductive type? What interest does the state have in the specific terms under which a couple marries or divorces? These important questions are obscured in the dominant public misunderstanding of sex as private activity and marriage as a beautiful wedding, a Hollywood honeymoon, and affectionate companionship. Marriage is a legal relationship that now can be legally terminated at will by either party without any need for showing breach of obligation or fault. Ending a marriage involves public determination of the allocation of the couple’s assets and their future financial obligations to each other. Anyone thinking of having children or getting married must understand state regulation of those fundamental human activities. Cohen’s book helps to provide such understanding.

Cohen’s program for family-law reform centers on free, informed marital contracting and team parenting from the birth of a child. Marriage is now an obscure, one-size-fits-all legal regime that few understand before marrying. Moreover, when couples establish prenuptial agreements, courts often subsequently nullify those agreements in unpredictable ways. Cohen proposes that a couple be required to select an explicit marital contract before being married. That contract would provide a wide range of possibilities for personal customization in response to personal values, circumstances, and desires. Cohen’s book sets out a legal framework for free, informed marital contracting in considerable detail.

Team parenting from birth makes common sense of gender equality and working together. By virtue of human biology, women know for certain who their biological children are. Men deserve equal biological-parental knowledge under law through low-cost DNA testing. Cohen proposes regular establishment of such knowledge and reporting biological fatherhood truthfully on birth certificates. For children born to unmarried persons, current law focuses on establishing a man (not necessarily the actual biological father) as legally obligated to pay the mother child support. That law effectively punishes men’s sexuality and devalues fatherhood into paying money for having sex. Moreover, the legal focus on extracting money from men obscures child-custody issues vitally important to women. Cohen proposes that a team parenting plan be legally established at birth. That’s as reasonable and publicly important as shifting health care from treating illnesses to keeping persons healthy. Establishing team parenting at a child’s birth is easier and more effective than trying to establish joint custody amid a bitter custody dispute.

The greatest weakness of Cohen’s book is also its most endearing quality. Cohen is an idealist with a shining vision of great American family life and society. He makes bold statements, provides sweeping analysis, and urges radical change. He imagines with amusing satire Harry Truman growing up in America today. Prickly, intolerant persons might huff at Cohen categorically declaring “happiness only occurs in a life shared together in marriage.” Cohen has practiced family law ten miles from Ferguson, Missouri, for over twenty-five years and through the recent turmoil.[2] His book rises from his lived experience. His claims should be appreciated in that context.

Cohen apparently believes that great ideas are enough to produce great political change. Underlying the gross injustices and acute anti-men gender inequality of child support and child custody laws is the political insignificance of men. The dominant discourse of “gender equality” is stunning testimony to gynocentrism and anti-men gender bigotry.[3] Society, like intimate heterosexual relations, is becoming nasty and brutish. Near the end of his book, Cohen declares:

We must toss away all of these political animosities and dig in as never before against the same flood that destroyed so many empires before us, the crumbling from within. … After all, don’t fathers have daughters? Don’t mothers have sons?

Of course they do. Yet we have the gender politics that we have. Men leaders seeking to seduce women, please mother, and continue to be elected in our majority-women democracy with majority-women media patronage have made current child support and child custody law. This situation won’t change easily. Without much more powerful social and political support for ordinary men, great ideas for renewing family life won’t matter.

*  *  *  *  *

Read more:

Notes:

[1] Edelman, Holzer & Offner (2006) p. 25. The subsequent quotes are from Cohen (2015) pp. 106, 111. I haven’t specifically validated these facts with primary sources, but they seem to me to be correct.

[2] Cohen’s ground-level practical knowledge of child-support law and practice is evident is his insightful description of prosecuting persons for child support arrears. See Cohen (2015) n. 135, pp. 271-3. His understanding of the common law of coverture is less up-to-date. He declares that coverture “in practical effect, put women, not on a pedestal, but in a cage.” Id. n. 3, pp. 223-4. The bitter irony in that statement is that coverture was very significance protection for women from the massive imprisonment of men for debt in late-seventh-century England.

[3] Most of the scholarly literature on child support and child custody is rife with anti-men bias. Mason (1994) provides a good example. That book might be better titled: From Formal, Largely Irrelevant Law of Father’s Property to Children’s Rights as a Pretense for Treating Fathers as Wallets. Cohen’s book seems relatively even-handed with respect to women’s and men’s interests. That might be considered inappropriate given the overwhelming dominance of women’s interests in current child support and child custody policies.

References:

Cohen, Alan W. 2015. America Solved: A New Family for the 21st Century. Elliot Publishing, LLC.

Edelman, Peter, Holzer, Harry J., Offner, Paul. 2006. Reconnecting Disadvantaged Young Men. Urban Institute: Washington, DC.

Mason, Mary Ann. 1994. From father’s property to children’s rights: the history of child custody in the United States. New York: Columbia University Press.