Medieval Women

 Over the past weeks, I have been dipping into a wonderfully produced book, Medieval Women, collated and introduced by Deirdre Jackson (Research Associate in the Department of Manuscripts and Printed Books at the Fitzwilliam, Cambridge University - or she was in 2015 when this book, published by the British Library, came out). It contains 200 pages packed with colourful illustrations of medieval illuminated pages from Psalters, Breviaries, Books of Hours, Chronicles and other manuscripts - a treasure trove of artistic craftsmanship that takes the breath away. Having spent the last few months gradually cataloguing my own Library, one of the facts that stands out is the incredible progress made over the last three decades in the printing (reproduction) of colour images in books such as these. All too often, one notes they are printed in the Far East - Hong Kong, Vietnam and, inevitably, the great Wen of China. It was, therefore, pleasing to see that this book was produced by Gutenberg Press in Malta. Long may it continue!

The British Library - 2015

Deirdre Jackson divides the book into seven chapters: Sexuality; Marriage; Mothers; Learning; Prayer; Literary Patronage; and Work. One of (the few!) positive aspects of getting old is that one increasingly realises how little one knows AND, thus,  how much there is still to find out and enjoy. I have a couple of books on Books of Hours - The Hastings Hours (Thames and Hudson, 1983) Eamon Duffy's Marking the Hours (Yale, 2006) - and a considerable collection on medieval women. However, Jackson's book brought together the two strands in a learnéd and fascinating way. Women who wished to have sex but couldn't were to take some cotton and musk or penny-royal oil and anoint it and pop it in the necessary channel...this both dissipates the desire and dulls the pain. To forestall 'unsuitable' attachments in convents, the Bishop of Besanҫon stipulated that nuns should sleep fully clothed in separate beds with a lamp burning all night. Hovering over all the human race, like some sort of monstrous albatross, was the Catholic Church, whose mantra appears to have been Thou shalt not, rather than Thou shall. The church attempted, usually successfully, to control all book learning and production and tales of Romance. When education was the prerogative of a relatively small elite (around whom the Church militant was wrapped) and when wives and women from the upper classes may have learned to read, but often remained illiterate, it comes as no surprise at the level of religious infestation in all walks of life. 

          

                       Margaret Beauchamp and                     A Prioress instructs

                                guardian angel                                      two novices

                                  c. 1430-1440                                        c. 1290-1300

I found the chapters on Learning (pp. 83-107), Prayer (pp. 109-127) and Literary Patronage (pp. 129-161) the most interesting; but the illustrations, nigh on every page, were breathtaking. The book was worth purchasing for those alone. I just wish all this new knowledge stuck in my brain a little more cohesively.

Deirdre Jackson has a splendid and uplifting final paragraph:

Whether single or married, religious or secular, women made key contributions to medieval culture. The manuscripts they left behind give us a deeper understanding of their lives and retain the power to move, captivate, puzzle and delight us. To turn the pages of a book made hundreds of years ago is like reading over the shoulder of a person who betrays no rising sense of irritation, and is, at any rate, in no position to object. Among the most personal of possessions, manuscripts are also among the most eloquent. Luxurious volumes made for privileged patrons and modest volumes alike offer us insights into a world that seems at once foreign and familiar.  Amen.