The sixteenth
century saw a renaissance of learning in England and the spread of humanism.
Humanists supported education for both men and women in part so that virtue
could be encouraged. One humanist, Baldesar Castiglione, suggested that
virtue was not a natural trait, in that vice also existed, and hence could
be learned.2 Thus Castiglione and other
humanists wrote instructive texts to encourage the acquisition of virtue
via learning.3 Some humanists were intent
on demonstrating that virtue was not gendered but was found equally in
both men and women.4 These writers argued
for a single model of virtue to be applied to both men and women; an argument
that can also be found in the writings of Plato and Socrates.5
Others wrote within gendered boundaries, focusing on silence, obedience,
and chastity as the primary virtues for women. Men, on the other hand,
were expected to lead active lives and demonstrate active virtues, such
as courage, fortitude, and justice.
Of the three feminine
virtues, silence was considered central.6
The most striking evidence of this is often in the structure of the writing.
Men in sixteenth-century texts often are the actual speakers and the figures
of action, whereas the women are merely spectators, demonstrating the appropriate
silent and obedient behavior.7 In many
ways, William Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew fits this model.
The female characters in the play are not the primary movers of the action
in the play–things happen to them and people speak of them. Readers learn
from others that Katharine does not demonstrate appropriate womanly virtues,
particularly in her inability to hold her tongue.8
Yet the character of Katharine can be read in a number of ways. Katharine
can be viewed as having been tamed, or she can be viewed as having merely
learned to play the game. Her final speech demonstrates her understanding
of the game and ties her reformed view of woman's place and responsibilities
to the social hierarchy of England: "Thy husband is thy lord, thy life,
thy keeper/ Thy head, thy sovereign; one who cares for thee, ... Such duty
as the subject owes the prince, / Even such a women oweth her husband;"
(lines 146-147; 155-156). Feminine virtue cannot be considered without
also considering that in Shakespeare's time the head of this hierarchical
society was a woman. Hence what was orderly and natural was in many ways
being challenged and redefined.
Elizabeth
ascended the throne of England as a woman, which would normally mean that
she occupied an inferior position to virtually every male. However, she
also ascended the throne as the sovereign, which meant she held the most
superior position in the realm. This division between Elizabeth's private
and public bodies meant that only to a limited extent could she be considered
useful as a model of virtue for other women. The only typically feminine
virtue that Elizabeth openly embraced throughout her reign was chastity.
This virtue was so intertwined with her role as England's virgin queen
that it should not necessarily be considered a private virtue of Elizabeth.
Her virginity was of national interest and any suggestion that she was
not chaste was an attack on not only her honor and her ability to rule
but also on the nation. In Elizabeth's time, the identity of state and
the monarch were intertwined.9 A male ruler
might similarly be challenged by an attack on his courage or his honesty.10
The remaining two central feminine virtues—silence and obedience—were not
and could not be reconciled as virtues in the public body of a sovereign
queen.
Elizabeth recognized
herself as having two bodies, that of a woman and that of a queen. The
private body of the king was the one that was subjected to the ravages
of time and eventually gave way to a successor. It is in this ritual of
succession that one can best understand the public body of the sovereign.
The public body houses the authority of the state and as such it never
dies; hence "The King is dead. Long live the King."11
Elizabeth's private body was that of a lowly woman and as such, she normally
would have been expected to obey the men in her life. Traditionally that
would have included her father or other male guardian in her younger years
and her husband thereafter. Elizabeth, however, avoided the entanglements
of matrimony throughout her life and thus was not subjected to the authority
of a husband. In many ways, this allowed her public body to dominate. As
queen, she was not always held to the usual model of femininity, and in
exercising her voice, she acknowledged that she was in a unique position.
In her accession speech, Elizabeth declared that although she was "but
one Body naturally considered," she was now also by God's "permission a
Body Politic to govern."12 In other words,
she naturally had the body of a woman but was also endowed with a princely
male body. Although the public and private bodies of the sovereign were
intermingled, in Elizabeth's case the dominant persona was her public image
as "prince."13 Elizabeth often referred
to herself as prince rather than as queen, perhaps to downplay
her private (feminine) body in favor of her public (masculine) body.14
She was in a unique position in that her two bodies allowed her to be praised
on two counts—for behaving in a masculine manner in her public body and
for following feminine norms appropriate for her private body.
As the century drew to
a close, writers increasingly made exceptions to the gendered model of
virtue in deference to Elizabeth.15 As
queen, Elizabeth was the strongest female role model available in England.
Yet despite her success in operating outside gender-prescribed roles, Elizabeth
did not advocate for other women to follow her lead.16
Thus the question of her place as a role model must be evaluated carefully.
It is arguable that even without Elizabeth's express approval of other
women following her example, the example remained to be followed. Elizabeth
illustrated that the boundaries of gender were not as natural and clearly
defined as many believed. What constituted appropriate feminine virtue
changed during the sixteenth century as women exercising political power
became almost commonplace not only in England but in Scotland and France
as well. Hence, one must consider carefully whether or not Shakespeare's
shrew was really "tamed" or was a representation of the changing times
in Elizabethan England.
2. Castiglione, Baldesar: The Book of the Courtier. Translated by George Bull. London: Penguin Books, 1967, pages 290-292.
3. For a discussion of humanists and their goals in encouraging education see Beauregard, David N: Virtue's Own Feature: Shakespeare and the Virtue Ethics Tradition. Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1995, pages 22-23 and Singh, Sarup: The Double Standard in Shakespeare and Related Essays: Changing Status of Women in 16th and 17th Century England. Delhi: Knark Publishers, 1988, pages 53-85.
4. Thomas Elyot, for example, argues this in his The Defence of Good Women.
5. Jordan, Constance: “Feminism and the Humanists: The Case of Sir Thomas Elyot’s Defence of Good Women,” Renaissance Quarterly 36(2):181-201, 1983, page 190.
6. See, for example, the introductory quote to this paper from The Defence of Good Women.
7. The Book of the Courtier is a good example of this. In Castiglione’s court of Urbino, the women are the caretakers not the policy makers.
8. See Act II, scene 1, lines 45-50.
9. For further discussion of Elizabeth as the personification of England, see Miller, David Lee: The Poem’s Two Bodies: The Poetics of the 1590 Faerie Queene. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988, page 18.
10. Levin, Carole: “The Heart and Stomach of King:” Elizabeth I and the Politics of Sex and Power. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1994, page 76.
11. In addition to Kantorowicz, Ernst H: The King’s Two Bodies: A Study in Mediaeval Political Theology. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1957, see also Levin; Miller; and Frye, Susan: Elizabeth I: The Competition for Representation. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993 for discussions of gender and its role in defining Elizabeth’s two bodies.
12. Montrose, Louis Adrian: “The Elizabethan Subject and the Spenserian Text.” In Parker, Patricia and Quint, David, editors: Literary Theory/Renaissance Texts, pages 303-340. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1986, page 307.
13. For a discussion of the problem of Elizabeth’s public/masculine and private/female bodies, see Frye, particularly pages 4-13.
14. Levin, pages 140-148.
15. Edmund Spenser’s The Faerie Queene is perhaps the premiere example of a text in which female virtue is not limited to silence, obedience, and chastity.
16. Frye, page 21.