Aemilia Lanyer: A Woman of Words, Part 5

Miniature portrait from
1593 that may depict
Aemilia Lanyer

Aemilia Lanyer: A Woman of Words, Part 4

Ultimately, Aemilia calls out for equality between men and women, a world in which both sexes may realize personal autonomy.

     Then let us have our Libertie againe,
     And challendge to your selves no Sov'raigntie;
     You came not in the world without our paine,
     Make that a barre against your crueltie;
     Your fault beeing greater, why should you disdaine
     Our beeing your equals, free from tyranny?
                If one weake woman simply did offend,
                This sinne of yours, hath no excuse, nor end.

(Lanyer 1993, 87)

Boldly, she challenges the assume superiority of men over women. She is ahead of her time, as the saying goes, not for the thoughts but for their expression.

To this, Rowse glibly responds:

     Really, she might be a precursor of Women's Lib! ... this was what the
     menfolk -- the Lord Chamberlain who had discarded her, Alfonso who
     had taken her on unhappily, his actor-dramatist who had fallen for her,
     Forman who came to detest her -- had all had to put up with. We may
     legitimately, if modestly, conclude that men found her a bit much.

(Rowse, 28)

I suppose that is a fair enough comment, because I find Rowse a bit much as well. Sadly, his misogyny saw print as recently as 1978. For some people, very little has changed in 400 years.

Aemilia's book apparently failed to find an audience, and her life began a steady decline. Alphonso died in 1613, at which point she signed over the hay and straw monopoly to his brother, Innocent. The irony of her brother-in-law's name cannot be ignored. He apparently agreed to split the income with Aemilia, but he paid her only a pittance. Even when he passed the monopoly on to another brother, Clement -- also ironically named -- the latter reneged, too, despite repeated court orders.

Aemilia's attempt to run a school for children in the upper echelons only succeeded in leading her back to the courts. She sued her landlord for compensation for repairs she made to the building; he countersued for the rent she refused to pay. Somehow, she managed to achieve the status of pensioner -- one in receipt of a regular income -- by the time she died in 1645. Either her legal wrangling with Clement succeeded or she found other means of supporting herself. In any case, she was apparently never able to achieve her lifelong goal of re-entering high society.

As stated earlier, Aemilia's turbulent life may have helped form her "radical" opinions on the status of women. Her views permeate her poetry and prose. More than a theological curiosity, Aemilia is a prime example of the literary value of female writers of the Renaissance or any other period. There were only nine copies of Salve Deus Rex Judaeorum known to exist as of 1996, and her book received minimal attention from scholars until relatively few years before that. Rowse gets the credit, although he demeaned her character, for finally bringing her work to the public eye in 1973.

All that matters now is that others are willing either to stand in her defence or present the unadorned facts and that her work is studied in context with Spenser, Marlowe and -- Heaven help us -- Shakespeare.

~ FINIS ~

Aemilia Lanyer: A Woman of Words, Part 4

Miniature portrait from
1593 that may depict
Aemilia Lanyer

Aemilia Lanyer: A Woman of Words, Part 3

Rowse debunks Aemilia's focus on religion and virtue as mere posturing, an attempt to cover up the "fact" that men no longer found her attractive (24). Her history with men -- Lord Hunsdon in fact, Shakespeare and Forman in speculation --is treated as inseparable from her character. Rowse does not allow for the changes that maturity can work on even the wildest heart. Who else might he condemn to suffer forever the mistakes of their youth?

"Salve Deux Rex Judaeorum" is a retelling of the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ in the context of the ultimate crime of men (not to be confused with mankind, which includes both men and women). Aemilia's description of Christ's personality overflows with traits that might be defined as traditionally feminine.

     He was content to stoope unto their Lure,
     Although his Greatnesse might doe otherwise;
     Here Grace was seised on with hands impure,
     And Virtue now must be supprest by Vice,
          Pure Innocencie made a prey to Sinne,
          Thus did his Torments and our Joyes beginne.

     Here faire Obedience shined in his breast,
     And did suppresse all feare of future paine;
     Love was his Leader unto this unrest,
     Whil'st Righteousnesse doth carry up his Traine;
     Mercy made way to make us highly blest,
     When Patience beat downe Sorrow, Feare and Paine:
          Justice sate looking with an angry brow,
          On blessed misery appeering now.

(Lanyer 1993, 74)

This is all the more striking for his being brought down by men, whose representative traits stand in sharp contrast to Chist's qualities. Even Death, Sin and Tyranny are characterized as male.

"Righteousnesse doth carry up his Traine," from the above excerpt, presents the reader with the image of a bride marching down the aisle. One might infer that Aemilia saw her marriage to Alphonso as a personal sacrifice, one which forever removed her from the Royal court. Further on, the narrator says of the persecution, "Nor can their wisdoms any way discover, / Who he should be that proov'd so true a Lover" (Lanyer 1993, 80). Are you listening, Dr. Rowse? Sounds to me like Aemilia wishes that all men could be so true to love as Christ to his faith.

Aemilia holds many men accountable for the crucifixion, but guilt first falls on the head of the Disciple Judas. Although he is not named -- as if his very name would blight the tongue of the speaker -- his story is unmistakable.

     See thy Betrayer, whom too well they knowe,
     One of the twelve, now object of disgrace,
     A trothlesse traytor, and a mortall foe,
     With fained kindnesse seekes thee to imbrace;
          And gives a kiss, whereby he may deceive thee,
          That in the hands of Sinners he may leave thee.

(Lanyer 1993, 72)

The other Disiples abandon Jesus to his fate, "Though they protest they never will forsake him / They do like men, when dangers overtake them" (Lanyer 1993, 78). In other words, they protect their own backsides. Even Peter, as Christ predicted, denies him three times.

Aemilia goes on to suggest that man's responsibility for the death of Christ sheds new light on Eve's role in mankind's expulsion from Eden. While women wear the shame of Original Sin, Aemilia argues that Adam should be held accountable.

     Who being fram'd by Gods eternall hand,
     The perfect'st man that ever breath'd on earth;
     And from Gods mouth receiv'd that strait command,
     The breach whereof he knew was present death;
     Yea having powre to rule both Sea and Land,
     Yet with one Apple wonne to loose that breath
          Which God had breathed in his beauteous face,
          Bringing us all in danger and disgrace.

(Lanyer 1993, 85)

He was the physically stronger of the two, the master of Eden, in direct communication with God. Eve ate of the Tree of Knowledge through the deception of the Serpent; she passed on the "gift" to Adam out of innocence and love. Adam knew better than she the consequences of the act and should have been able to resist temptation. Wherever one places the blame, Aemilia says, the persecution of Jesus is a far greater sin.

TO BE CONCLUDED

Aemilia Lanyer: A Woman of Words, Part 3

Aemilia Lanyer: A Woman of Words, Part 2

Not long after her marriage to Alphonso Lanyer, Aemilia may have become involved with William Shakespeare. According to Rowse, she was the inspiration for the Bard's infamous "Dark Lady."

Then again, Rowse also seems to believe every word of Forman's journal and interprets broadly from its contents in determining whether Aemilia succumbed to Forman. Moreover, he claims Aemilia "always exaggerated" (Rowse 34) and defines her strength of will in terms of "rampant feminism" (Rowse 20). His little asides are condescending in the extreme, like a sly nudge-wink to the reader, whom Rowse assumes will share his point of view.

Aemilia's one collection, Salve Deux Rex Judaeorum (Hail, God, King of the Jews), was first published in 1611.

The 11 prefatory pieces are dedications to various royal and noble women, as well as "To all vertuous Ladies in generall." Such blatant flattery as displayed in these pieces is well in keeping with the practice of the day. Stroke the right egos, specifically those attached to persons of wealth and power, and suddenly you are running with the In Crowd. In the following excerpt from "To the Queenes most Excellent Majestie," Aemilia opens with praise for Queen Anne, the wife of James I.

          Renowned Empresse, and great Britaines Queene,
          Most gratious Mother of succeeding Kings;
          Vouchsafe to view that which is seldome seene,
          A Womans writing of divinest things:
                   Reade it faire Queene, though it defective be,
                   Your Excellence can grace both It and Mee.

(Lanyer 1993, 3)

Early introduction of a self-deprecating tone does not hurt, either. The author humbly declares the undertaking to be beyond her meagre skills then goes on to (hopefully) meet the challenge.

In her short prose piece "To the Vertuous Reader," Aemilia fairly screams her reason for writing the main poem, "Salve Deux Rex Judaeorum." She feels that women in general -- and perhaps herself in particular -- have suffered undue slander from men and women alike. Men should remember they are born of woman, she asserts, and women should support their own. True to the life-hands-you-a-lemon tradition, Aemilia entreats virtuous women "not to regard any imputations, that they undeservedly lay upon us, no otherwise than to make use of them to our owne benefits, as spurres to vertue, making us flie all occasions that may colour their unjust speeches to passe currant" (Lanyer 1993, 49). If Rowse's Dark Lady theory is correct, this piece may be Aemilia's reaction to the 1609 publication of Shakespeare's Sonnets, in which the Dark Lady is so prominent a figure.

Whether Aemilia was truly the inspiration for the Dark Lady or merely perceived as such by the public, she would have considered the characterization to be libelous. In such a scenario, she would have struck back in kind, voicing her contempt with the printed word.

Aemilia's apparent reactionary stance is reinforced in the body of the main poem, wherein she writes:

          But woe to them that double-hearted bee,
          Who with their tongues the righteous Soules doe slay;
          Bending their bowes to shoot at all they see,
          With upright hearts their Maker to obay;
          And secretly doe let their arrowes flee,
          To wound true hearted people any way:
                    The Lord wil roote them out that speake prowd things,
                    Deceitfull tongues are but false Slanders wings.

(Lanyer 1993, 55-56)

She was clearly expressing her anger against those who wilfully spread falsehoods. One might safely assume that Aemilia herself was the target of such defamatory comment. However, if her invective was aimed at anyone in particular, such detail was not revealed to the reader.

TO BE CONTINUED

Aemilia Lanyer: A Woman of Words, Part 2

Miniature portrait from
1593 that may depict
Aemilia Lanyer

Aemilia Lanyer: A Woman of Words, Part 1

Aemilia soon moved on to the court of Elizabeth I and the bed of Henry Carey, Lord Hunsdon. At age 23, she became pregnant and lost her "favoured" status as mistress to the 68-year-old nobleman. Like any good employee, she walked away with a pension (he bought her off). Propriety demanded that her child have a legitimate birth, and she married Alphonso Lanyer.

Coincidentally, her new husband was a musician. He was also something of a businessman, having been granted a monopoly in the London hay and straw weighing market. In theory, two creative people united under the umbrella of a secure income should have been happy together. However, certain details have suggested that their marriage was not without problems.

After the birth of Lord Hunsdon's son, Henry, all but one of Aemilia's pregnancies ended in miscarriage. If Alphonso had any difficulty in accepting another man's son as his own then he must have been disappointed at siring a girl who died in infancy. One account has suggested that Alphonso was an abuser and a wastrel, depleting Aemilia's "severance" in his lifetime.

Aemilia may have felt trapped in her marriage and deprived of the luxuries to which she had become so accustomed at Lord Hunsdon's side. Being the Lord Chamberlain's mistress was more impressive than being a court musician's wife. She seemed bent on reclimbing the social ladder, either through her husband's promotion or her own publication.

Notably, much of what is known of the early years of Aemilia's marriage is attributed to a questionable source.

Her astrologer, Simon Forman, kept a journal on all his clientele. Her visits began on 17 May 1597 and continued for a few years. Forman considered himself something of a ladies' man. Although she may have entertained him in her home, Aemilia apparently refused his advances. His journals "are peppered with accounts of his sexual encounters, about which he is quite explicit [but] he records about Lanyer only his hope and disappointment" (Woods xxiv). He wrote from rejection and frustration when he characterized her as a whore and an incuba (Rowse 13).


IN THE NEXT INSTALLMENT: Shakespeare's Dark Lady?

Aemilia Lanyer: A Woman of Words, Part 1

Miniature portrait from
1593 that may depict
Aemilia Lanyer

Certain Renaiisance anthologies, such as The Literature of Renaissance England, focus on the writings of men, suggesting to the novice that there are no notable female writers from the period.

True, the better known works of the period were written by men, but women were represented as well. They possessed the talent but lacked the resources and encouragement more readily available to their male counterparts.

Women's poetry and prose do appear in print but generally in women's anthologies, as if unworthy of inclusion with the works of men.

The extension of the English Renaissance into the early 17th century opens up new areas of exploration. Janet Clare describes "the Jacobean period as a transitional moment for women seeking to gain access to the circulation, if not the publication, of literary works which were neither strictly devotional nor translations."

Female writers of the period were finding their voices, pushing past the restrictions on the forms their works could take.

One such writer was Aemilia (Bassano) Lanyer (1569-1645). The circumstances of her life were as intriguing as her poetry. One might conclude that the former influenced the latter, in which she expressed theological and political views best described a proto-feminist.

She was outspoken and combative, traits much in evidence in her later years. Aemilia had ample time to observe and experience life. By 17th century standards, living to age 76 was quite an accomplishment. Her opinions, as expressed in her poetry, were no doubt the result of her tug-of-war life. Each apparent advantage or opportunity seemed nullified by one misfortune or setback after another.

Aemilia's interest in writing seemed a logical progression from her family background. Her father, Baptista Bassano, came from a family of court musicians. Her mother, Margaret Johnson, may have been the aunt of musician Robert Johnson, attached to William Shakespeare's company. The bond between music and poetry was strong in 16th century England.

Aemilia lost her father when she was only seven; her mother died 11 years later. She was fostered in the home of the future Countess of Kent and later attached to the household of the Countess of Cumberland. In the latter case, Aemilia gained the advantage of a literary education. Her tribute to the Cumberland estate, "The Description of Cooke-ham," indicated her fondness for the family and her time spent with them. One should note that "Cooke-ham" was published, and possibly written, before Ben Jonson's more famous "To Penshurst," qualifying Aemilia's work as the first country house poem.

The wording of "Cooke-ham" also suggested that she sought the patroniage of the Countess of Cumberland, using the well-established tactic of flattery. Men were often successful with this approach, but female writers were not yet encouraged in their efforts, so noble patroniage was elusive.

TO BE CONTINUED