Tijdschrift voor Nederlandse Taal- en Letterkunde. Jaargang 117
(2001)– [tijdschrift] Tijdschrift voor Nederlandse Taal- en Letterkunde– Auteursrechtelijk beschermd
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Hermina Joldersma
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1. IntroductionThe connection between women and song in the late-medieval period, though regularly made, still awaits thorough exploration. It is a distinct red thread in the context of pre-reformational religious song, receiving mention in specialized studies such as J.A.N. Knuttel (1906: 20) and G.G. Wilbrink (1930: 261), in literary histories such as Kalff (1907: II, 283) and Van Mierlo (1950: II, 134-138), and more focused attention in recent articles (e.g. Van Buuren 1992, Joldersma 1997, Joldersma and Van der Poel 2000). My own interest in a wider connection, one which includes secular as well as sacred song, was piqued initially by Peter Burke's cautiously formulated challenge in his 1978 Popular Culture in Early Modern Europe, where he notes that the already formidable difficulty ‘of reconstructing and interpreting the culture of the inarticulate’ is at its most acute when attention is focused on gender variations (49). The two areas in which women seem to have carved out identifiable and possibly traceable niches are song and religion. In his brief discussion of song Burke mentions various aspects that merit attention: genre (one collection distinguishes between love-lyrics and ballads as ‘women's songs’ and ‘men's songs’ respectively, 49-50), function (women's work is accompanied by spinning songs, waulking songs, songs for grinding grain, 50), and transmission (women as compilers, 28). In my continued explorations I have come to agree that Burke was correct in identifying women's presence in this area, but that the work of excavating the nature of that presence by reconstructing and interpreting their agency is more challenging than one might first think (Joldersma 1989). In this article I seek to tease out a number of the issues that must be addressed, with particular attention to questions relevant to including women's contribution to song in literary histories. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
2. Illustrating some issues: ‘the Doesburg episode’The complexities involved in this project are perhaps best illustrated by example. We are fortunate in having ready at hand an early fifteenth-century situation in which | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Dirc van Herxen, rector of a house for Brothers of the Common Life in Doesburg, was moved to compose a song of which we still know today. The chronicle reports the following: It once happened in the same place that a maid near our house, as is the habit of the laity, often sang a frivolous Netherlandic song that sounded somewhat scurrilous. This made the venerable father indignant and he seized the opportunity to write a very devout song in praise of virginity and purity, on the melody and with the same notes as the secular song. When he had finished it, he gave it to Master Livinus, at that time rector of the pupils, so that Livinus might teach it to them in place of the accustomed song. Many people, having been moved by that song so elegantly and piously composed, and inspired by affection for the poet, were moved and inflamed to a love for purity; it was spread and copied and sung endlessly with devotion by pupils and the religious. On urging by sisters and girls alike, our father translated his song into the vernacular, quite elegantly and on the same melody.Ga naar eindnoot1 This incident is often cited and especially treasured because we know both Van Herxen's Latin composition and the vernacular translation of that Latin song text.Ga naar eindnoot2 The song is mentioned in many literary histories; in those organized primarily around authorship, Dirc van Herxen is the only hero of the piece (e.g. Kalff 1907: II, 282, Van Mierlo 1950: II, 134, Knuvelder 1964: II, 298-299). The women are all but invisible: only Kalff mentions the maid who sings ‘een ijdel, eenigszins oneerbaar liedje in de volkstaal’, while at least one interpretation extrapolates from the maid's song to characterize the maid herself as ‘zekere ligtvaardige vrouw’.Ga naar eindnoot3 The religious women have disappeared completely. Suppose, however, that we reexamine this incident from a perspective seeking the larger picture of how literature functions, rather than primarily identifiable authors of texts, together with an alert eye for gender issues.Ga naar eindnoot4 Such a functional perspective - for example of the kind informing Nederlandse literatuur, een geschiedenis - would have noted the very different roles occupied by women and men in this episode, and might have introduced its discussion as follows: Doesburg, c. 1428: | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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kind that enabled others to devote themselves to ‘productive work’ such as devotion and learning, which left a more traceable written record. Thus far the fictive literary history. While the concrete details of ‘the Doesburg episode’ may vary from situation to situation, they are characteristic for the often very different roles women and men play in late-medieval song. Women have traditionally been the more reliable carriers of the vernacular song tradition even into modern times.Ga naar eindnoot6 That women (and men, but our concern here is women) have sung while they worked has been documented well into our time.Ga naar eindnoot7 The church seems to have been consistent in its disapproval of the secular tradition, but it was primarily males who voiced and acted on such disapproval while secular song itself continued as an undercurrent in women's singing and their repertoire even in religious institutions. Men were more likely to possess the learning necessary for text (and musical) composition, but women played a major role in transmission: the majority of the songs we know from manuscripts are linked to women in some way (Joldersma 2000a). It was more often (religious) women who sought, and were given, vernacular literature for devotional and other purposes. And so the facts of the Doesburg episode are not really incidental: a (presumably) illiterate housemaid brings into the proximity of a literate religious man a secular song from the oral tradition; he disapproves and writes a Latin contrafact; this contrafact is translated because of women's need for a vernacular text;Ga naar eindnoot8 we know it today in part because of their role in the transmission of sacred vernacular song. The episode poses the question: whose song is it, to whom should credit be given? The anonymous woman who functioned as the (negative) muse? The named man who composed the Latin contrafact as well as the vernacular translation? The anonymous sisters without whom we would not have had that vernacular translation? The female tertiaries in Utrecht who transmitted a shortened version in their song manuscript? All of these complexities should shape our discussion of women's part in late-medieval song. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
3. Terminology: ‘women's songs’, ‘women and song’, Lebensgrund der TexteThrough the years the term ‘women's songs’ has come to be used rather indiscrimi- | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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nately as designation for three quite different phenomena. I would like to clarify these three different uses, explain my preference for the phrase ‘women and song’, and discuss how I see an explicit focus on Lebensgrund der Texte as the best way to capture the connection between them. One very common and longstanding usage of ‘women's songs’ is as a direct translation of the German Frauenlieder to mean medieval poems and songs with a female I-persona. These ‘women's songs’ are more often than not written by men, although the authorship question has been and is subject to debate. This literary definition informs collections such as John Plummer's Vox Feminae: Studies in Medieval Women's Songs and Ingrid Kasten's Frauenlieder des Mittelalters; in them, ‘women's songs’ are a lyric genre distinguished by speaking voice, texts in which the literary voice of a woman is the principle or only persona, songs whose lyrical subject is a woman. A second usage understands the term functionally: ‘women's songs’ are those that women ‘have’, in the sense of ‘sung most typically by them’ or, more colloquially, ‘songs that especially women like’. This is the definition used by social historians such as Burke; it is also the definition which implicitly informs collections from the modern women's movement. As we have seen, Burke uses it for songs which bear a specific and recognizable relationship to a realm identified as primarily or exclusively female, such as certain kinds of work and certain social situations.Ga naar eindnoot9 Other scholars have extended this definition from the study of the relationship between song and function/situation to an analysis of the accompanying genres: an obvious example would be the woman's work of caring for infants, and the genre ‘lullaby’ that accompanies such work (e.g. Van Voorst van Beesd 1986). In a next step, scholars extrapolate from the characteristics of a ‘woman's genre’ (e.g. lullabies) to other types of songs bearing similar characteristics, interpreting these other songs as ‘women's songs’ even if the link to women's functions is ambiguous or absent; such is the work of Johns and Lemaire (1986: 152-153) on lyrical versus narrative.Ga naar eindnoot10 A third usage focuses on authorship: ‘women's songs’ are those written by women.Ga naar eindnoot11 There are indeed some known female authors in the late-medieval period, but the anonymity of song generally ensures that most texts cannot be attributed to anyone, female or male. This is so even when late-medieval songs themselves name ‘haer’ and ‘hem’ in singer stanzas (the final stanza which purports to ascribe the song to a particular, if anonymous, individual, to be discussed further below); this information cannot be taken at face value, and scholars have been justifiably cautious. An example of recent efforts to seek female authorship in anonymous late-medieval songs is the work of Albrecht Classen (1998, 1999); he argues that particularly if there is a female literary persona in a text, the text's content is ‘female’ (e.g. complaint about men), and the text is located in a manuscript belonging to a woman, that text should be ascribed to a female author. His work is interesting but not convincing because it does not address the necessary methodological problems (Joldersma 2000b). This article does not concern itself with the first definition, the literary voices of women in songs; that is a vast field and a completely different kind of study. Neither does it study function in a social-historical sense; although such research would be highly desirable, the sources on which this study is based do not readily yield such information. Instead, this article focuses on connections between ‘women and song’: | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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what can we know about the authorial nature of women's creativity in relation to song, what kinds of questions must be asked to tease out their creativity, what kinds of perspectives are most conducive to finding and valuing their contribution? ‘Seeking the authorial nature of women's creativity’ is a perhaps cumbersome rephrasing of seeking women's role in the Lebensgrund der Texte, an untranslatable German term which goes beyond mere reception and transmission to capture the organic nature of late-medieval song, the way in which a text was received, reworked and adapted to accord with the new situation, passed on to another person or group, and so on. I borrow the phrase Lebensgrund der Texte from Kurt Ruh's succinct foreword to the second, completely revised edition of the Verfasserlexikon of German medieval literature (1978: I, v-vii). In it Ruh articulates a number of principles conducive to including texts which sit uncomfortably in literary histories focused on period, author, or work; Lebensgrund der Texte best captures the complexities of tradition, transmission, intention, and function inherent in anonymous works of which there are multiple versions. Indeed, one significant innovation of the second edition of the Verfasserlexikon is the unapologetic inclusion of far more anonymous texts; specifically singled out as important ‘works’ are song manuscripts, and even some individual songs receive entries of their own. Although not even a focus on Lebensgrund der Texte will provide easy solutions to capturing the connection between women and song, it will help to delineate where such connections might most profitably be sought. Hence I choose to speak of ‘women and song’; this juxtaposition articulates the existence of a connection while leaving wide open the nature of that connection. The remainder of this essay will explore what we can know about ‘women and song’ when we seek to understand women's role in and contribution to the Lebensgrund of the late medieval song text. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
4. The women we know: authors and collectorsIf we consider first, simply because it is easier, what we might know about women and song by seeking individual and identifiable authors or collectors, a first glance yields what would seem a substantial amount of material. Some authors we know by name and person: Utrecht anchorite Suster Bertken (1426/27-1514; Van de Graft 1955, Van Buuren 1989, Van Aelst 1998); Brussels magistrate's widow Katharina Boudewijns (c. 1587; Van Belle 1927, Porteman 1997); Anabaptist martyrs Anna Jansz (1509/10-1539; Packull 1996) and Martha Baerts (c. 1539-1560; Gregory 1996); from North Holland the later Anabaptist hymnists Soetken Gerijts (d. 1572; Visser 1996, Schenkeveld 1997a) and Vrou Gerrits (c. 1580-1605; Visser 1996, Schenkeveld 1997b). Further we know of a few evidently historical but otherwise unidentifed women: ‘hillegont aeronts dochter cornelis cornelis soens huisvrou’ (c. 1497) noted as the first to sing a song, which may not mean ‘authored’;Ga naar eindnoot12 the ‘persoen’ mentioned in the cryptic note, ‘Dese drie navollegende liedekens heeft een persoen ghedicht’.Ga naar eindnoot13 A few singer stanzas in both religious and secular songs mention as authors ‘haer’ and ‘sij’, though as we shall see, singer stanzas pose special interpretive challenges. The list of historical names referring to owners of or contributors to manuscripts | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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is considerably larger: ‘Marigen Remen’ (Gerritsen 1966), ‘Liisbet Ghoeyuaers’ and ‘Johanna Cueliens’ (Seggelen 1966), ‘Etheken Bernts dachter’ (Obbema 1996), ‘Jenneken Verelst’, ‘Maiken Mertens dochter alias Passchens’ and ‘Mariken Paesschens van Gheel’ (Tiele 1869, Oosterman 2000), ‘Kateline Winkelmans’ (Braekman 1996), ‘Anna de Teniers’, ‘Wyvine Pieters’, ‘Margriet Melis’ (Roes 1897).Ga naar eindnoot14 Many of these are connected to song manuscripts with significant, sometimes exclusively sacred content; they lead quite naturally to a substantial number of further sacred song manuscripts often anonymously compiled in women's religious institutions (Van Buuren 1992; Joldersma 1997, 2000a). Other names, such as ‘Kathryna von Bronchorst und Batenborch’ (Brednich 1976), ‘Habel van Herema’ (Heringa 1978), ‘Theodora van Wassenaer en Duvenvoerden’ (Oosterman 1998), ‘Maria van Besten’ (Ter Kuile 1918), lead us to the realm of alba amicorum, women's participation in the sixteenth-century trend of owning manuscripts to which friends and relatives contributed songs or other verses (Delen 1989, 1990). Knowing a woman's name, however, rarely assures knowledge about the historical person behind it; there is much painstaking research to be done. Marigen Remen is not known beyond her name, for example, and Gerritsen justifiably cautions that knowing more would require systematic research in the archives of fifteenth and sixteenth-century Holland, ‘een reuzen werk, dat vele maanden zou vergen’ (1966: xlix). Still, one gets the impression that searching specifically for women in archives generally will find more than has been found to date. A case in point is recent work on Anna Jansz and Martha Baerts, for whom a careful and imaginative piecing together of the historical record has fleshed out the historical person behind the name (Packull 1996; Gregory 1996). Though these women wrote only one song each, the historical context excavated for each of them increases our understanding of and appreciation for these very different texts, one a fervent declaration of apocalyptic vision in the heyday of Anabaptist triumphalism, the other a sigh of near despair transformed into one of unwavering faith in the providence of God. Also Soetjen Gerrits and Vrou Gerrits have received greater attention from Anabaptist historians than from literary scholars (Visser 1996), though recent attention to the song oeuvres of both from a literary perspective adds an important enrichment to our understanding of their work as literature (Schenkeveld 1997a and 1997b). We now know that Jenneken Verelst was prioress of the cloister ‘Terbank’, near Louvain, in 1586, and that Anna Bijns seems to have written at least one song in addition to her well-known refrain poetry (Oosterman 2000). We know that Kateline Winkelmans owned property and was literate, since she names herself as ‘Ic kateline wynckelmans’ in a contract renting out a parcel of land in 1546 (Braekman 1996: 132). Rather more is known about noblewomen, as might be expected; so we know where Kathryna von Bronchorst lived, the identity of her parents, her husband, and a good number of friends and relations (Brednich 1976: 18-20). Still, what we know about women beyond their names is sparse; the scholarly record demonstrates primarily that seeking is a prerequisite for finding, and that there is quite a bit of systematic seeking to be done. When it comes to including in literary histories even the women of whom we know names, works, and dates, other problems arise of which I will mention two. One is the tendency to privilege ‘oeuvre’ over single work, a choice which stands to | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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disadvantage women; even the Lauwerkrans prefers multi-work authors, even if exceptions were made for interesting cases (Schenkeveld et al. 1997: 1). Martha Baerts would be one such interesting case, for she wrote only one song, but she wrote it under exceptional circumstances, namely in prison and facing impending execution; the song surely merits exceptional attention because of this (though Van Herxen wrote only two songs, they receive regular mention). A second problem concerns continued uncertainty about women's authorship, an uncertainty strengthened by what seems to be greater scholarly scruple about facts when it comes to ascribing a text to a female author. But particularly for women, since they have been less documented in history, a greater willingness to accept possibilities and likelihoods is imperative. For example, questions can and have been raised about three of the authors mentioned above: for Suster Bertken about whether she wrote the ninth song not published with her other works but ascribed to her in another manuscript;Ga naar eindnoot15 for Anna Jansz about whether she is the ‘Anneken N' in Joris’ songbook;Ga naar eindnoot16 for Martha Baerts about whether it is indeed her song or Soetken van den Houte's printed in the pamphlet from which we know the text.Ga naar eindnoot17 But for each of these three, consideration of the facts we do know within the context of the Lebensgrund der Texte in which their work is to be situated, enables us to make more of the sometimes sparse factual evidence we do have. Exemplary is Fons van Buuren's careful contribution to the debate about whether or not Suster Bertken wrote that ninth song. He argues most plausibly that this question is not to be answered with ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Rather, by situating her work in the song culture of the Modern Devotion, by analyzing the song's six extant versions, and attending closely to even the smallest differences in the one ascribed to Suster Bertken, he concludes that Suster Bertken likely reworked a song popular in contemporary religious circles to accord with her personal situation (2000: 49). Anna Jansz' triumphalist song is attributed to ‘Anneken N’ in Anabaptist leader David Joris' songbook of 1539: can we be sure that ‘Anneken N’ is indeed the Anna Jansz who was martyred in Rotterdam in 1539? The connection depends on imaginative appeal to the circumstances: we know that she wrote, for she published an open letter to Joris and wrote a ‘testament’ to her son Isaiah; it seems unlikely that there would be in Joris' closer circle two ‘Annas’ who both wrote and published; the song, the letter, and the testament are very much in the same spirit and tone. The situation with Martha Baerts is somewhat different: did she or Soetken write the song that is printed under the title ‘Een schoen Geestelick Liedeken ghemaeckt door die selue Vrouwe Soetken Vanden Houten Haer Maecht Martha’? There seems to be no reason to read the grammatical construction other than as ‘the song was made by the maid of the woman’. Could a maid have been as literate as her mistress, would she have had the skill, the spirit and the means to write a song, however simple, during a lengthy and demoralizing imprisonment prior to her execution by beheading in Ghent on November 20, 1560? The circumstances argue for this: Martha was Anabaptist, and Anabaptists placed great importance on literacy for all, regardless of gender or social station, as key to reading Scripture and working out their own salvation; Soetken herself urges her children to pursue literacy diligently. Many Anabaptists wrote letters and testaments, and sometimes songs, in prison; it is entirely plausible that Martha was the author of this appropriately simple song.Ga naar eindnoot18 When we seek to sketch the contours of the larger song corpus, considering the | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Lebensgrund der Texte will enable us to tease out other potentially helpful contours in the potpourri of names and collections listed above. Texts and agents will function quite differently in the mediums of manuscript and print, in the realms of sacred and secular, in the living conditions of landed estate, cloister, and town, in the pre- and post-reformation period. We can expect to know different things, and likely more, about those women whose works appeared in print (e.g. Suster Bertken, Katharina Boudewijns), or who were members of the nobility (Katharina von Bronchorst in Kleve, Habel van Herema in Friesland). The same holds true for women who led exceptional lives: Suster Bertken was well-known as a long-lived and venerated anchorite, Anna Jansz and Martha Baerts ran afoul of a church and state machinery which kept records, but even more importantly these women belonged to a post-reformational religious group dedicated to keeping the memory of the martyred alive through dissemination of their texts and stories in manuscript and print. We are only beginning to think about the many ‘unexceptional’ women who were active in compiling the religious song manuscripts which constitute our knowledge of late-medieval sacred song today; we do know that many such groups were located in urban areas, that some sort of network must have carried this pre-reformational song tradition from institution to institution, that despite commonalities the collections do show individual faces, that there are clear ties to the secular popular song tradition (Joldersma and Van der Poel 1999). Women's alba amicorum, in contrast, seem to have been particularly popular among female members of the lower nobility on a landed estate (Brednich 1976, Classen 1998), and differ from men's versions of that genre especially in their tendency to include song (Delen 1989, 1990). In the alba the secular love song predominates. In this regard they seem to contrast sharply to religious song manuscripts. From another perspective, however, the two types of collections share a distinct preference for love poetry: the alba amicorum draw on the secular popular song tradition itself, the religious manuscripts adapt the secular repertoire for sacred purposes. Both religious and secular manuscripts demonstrate knowledge of the (oral) secular song tradition, the former through references to secular melodies (‘wijsaanduidingen’) for sacred texts, the latter through direct transmission of currently popular secular song. Songs in manuscripts, generally, bear evidence of a closer relationship to the oral tradition than printed sources, though this is a predictable aspect of late-medieval song and quite natural when most printed sources can be ascribed to one known author. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
5. The women we don't know: anonymous agency in the Lebensgrund der TexteVan Buuren's meticulous discussion of Suster Bertken's ninth song provides a good model for the kind of consideration that will benefit our ability to see women's agency in anonymous texts. Let us return to the four songs in ‘the Doesburg episode’: the secular song at which we can only guess, Van Herxen's Latin contrafact, and the two versions of the vernacular translation. We have already noted that a woman's singing provided the impetus for the entire episode. This anonymous woman influenced also the content of Van Herxen's Latin song, for in reaction to the impurity he perceived in her song he was moved to write a hymn on purity; he both used and | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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reacted to the secular model. The transmission of Van Herxen's ten-stanza original is characteristic for a male religious environment: it is in Latin, it has musical notation, it and its faithful vernacular translation are copied one after another in a manuscript containing mostly prose Latin texts.Ga naar eindnoot19 The main thrust of the song is indeed ‘reinicheit’ (purity): it is the quality which elevates mortal creatures to the level of angels (st. 1). The premier example of purity is the virginity of Mary, Christ's mother (st. 6); she is followed by ‘a very large host’ of similarly pure women like the martyrs Agnes and Katherine (st. 8), beautifully clothed and singing a new, no doubt honorable, song (st. 9). But the final stanza sounds a completely different note, inverting the celebration of purity into a dire warning about the consequences of its absence: Ach doetlic, droevich overtraet
der boser lust hoech seere
die joecht vermits dy wort ontsaet
in doecht, verstant ende ere;
dijn wech leit totter hellen bat;
mijn raet is: weder keere.
(‘O deadly, deplorable transgression / of evil lust, horribly painful; / through your doing
youth is robbed / of virtue, understanding, and honor; / your way leads to the profit of
hell. / My advice is: turn back!’ Van Duyse 1907: III, 2213)
Consider, however, the shorter eight-stanza version of this text in a manuscript originating in the St. Agnes women's cloister in Utrecht. This version differs from the original in a number of characteristic ways. For one, it retains its tie to the secular tradition by providing a melody reference to the first line of a secular song, which may be the song sung by the maid; it seems that the women were not as offended by the (maid's) secular song as their male counterparts. But the more striking difference lies in the completely different tone it acquires by its having been shortened, by the omission of just two stanzas. The two which have been left out are the seventh introducing Joseph and John as protectors of Mary, as well as the last, given above, which sounds dire warning should purity be absent. Left out in the Utrecht version, in other words, are precisely those two stanzas which interfere with the joyous celebration of female virginal purity. The Utrecht version ends on a completely different note: Si volghen Jhesum stadelic
hair cleideren syn so reyne
si singhen alte suverlic
een nyewe liet alleyne
mit harpenspel in hemelrijc;
hair croon is niet ghemeyne.
(‘Steadfastly they follow Jesus / their robes are completely pure; / they sing together
purely / solely a new song / on the music of the harp, in Heaven; / their crown is not a
common one’. Van Duyse 1907: III, 2215)
Can we discern women's agency in this shorter version? We will likely never know who copied the song into the Utrecht manuscript, or what the copyist's intention might | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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have been; neither is the shorter version ‘new’ in the sense of ‘originally authored’, for its eight stanzas are quite true to eight of the ten-stanza original. Nevertheless, the shorter version has transformed a somewhat dourly mixed-message text about purity into a unified celebration of that same state, with an emphasis on women; one imagines that the religious women who sang the song were able to include themselves unreservedly in the line of sainted and dancing virgins. This is an area for further research: are there specific characteristics to be discerned in song manuscripts from women's institutions, are individual collections informed by greater planning and intention than we have been able to detect,Ga naar eindnoot20 have the texts been adapted in reception by those who copied them down, are certain images more preferred than others, is there a particular tone more typical for songs in collections from women's institutions? Preliminary investigation suggests that this may indeed be the case, and the image of virgins in celestial celebration is one which seems more prevalent in manuscripts from women's institutions than other collections, though these manuscripts are far from homogeneous in this regard.Ga naar eindnoot21 We might remind ourselves that a good century of song scholarship has indeed drawn conclusions about a feminine style; Knuttel speaks of the image of ‘a blue-with-cold baby Jesus’ as specifically feminine (1906: 135), Walter Salmen sees certain themes as particularly suited to the female imagination (‘der weiblichen Vorstellungswelt’) and discerns ‘femininely-gentle, tranquil tones’ in religious songs from women's institutions (1952: 345, 349). We recognize that such conclusions reflect scholars' current ideas and ideals of femininity as much as they do late-medieval texts, and that we ought to reconsider the matter, given a half century of development in theoretical approaches to the study of women. Still, it may be that renewed attention will lead us to corroborate some of these conclusions, and to find that certain characteristics of late-medieval song are more common to texts from women's institutions than from men's. Alba amicorum constitute a quite different and equally complex Lebensgrund der Texte. Research on women's alba amicorum is still in its beginning stages (Delen 1989: 75); there are few detailed studies on individual collections, only preliminary (though instructive) work on how the alba of women and men differ, few thoughts on what the different texts contributed by different individuals might tell us about them. Delen's work has shown that women's alba constitute about ten percent of the total known for the sixteenth-century Low Countries, and songs predominate only in them (Delen 1989: 87). They constitute a complex source, for though each collection is associated primarily with one person, the contributors to the alba were many and only in part guided by the taste of the one to whom they dedicated their entry. These collections typically include a potpourri of texts besides songs; fascinating is the juxtaposition of serious and playful, of religious lament and love poem, of diametrically opposed depictions of women. Each album has its own character: Maria van Besten's circle of friends seems to have been more playful than Kathryna von Bronckhorst's, to judge by Gaspar Peñass' somewhat risqué ‘Si ma metresse était diablesse / de bien bon coeur je vouldroie estre Lusifer’ and Anna van Buren's rather humorous verse on life's (im)possibilities: ‘Als de mius vanget den kather / Unde de see ijs sonder wather / Unde de dunen sonder sant / So sal ik wesen kogginne van engelant’ (Ter Kuile 1918: 67, 51). A striking example of what can be learned about women through the texts they enter into such alba is the very first song in Kathryna | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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von Bronchorst's album, entered by her relative Alyt. Alyt mentions, in signing her name, that she is the widow of Jan van Renesse (1506-1553), and that the thirty-third anniversary of his death is approaching; from other records we know that Alyt was persecuted for her Protestant faith and after considerable tribulation was living in Utrecht at the time of the writing (Brednich 1976: 16, 53). It is curious that hers is the first text in the book though likely the last entered (1586), at a time when Kathryna herself had been a widow for 12 years (Brednich 1976: 22). Alyt's entry combines four otherwise not particularly related song stanzas, at least one of which was well-known in the sixteenth century, into a relatively coherent lament on ‘lyden’ which ends trusting the God who will never forsake; the autobiographical note lends her text(s) a highly personal tone, and one can glimpse some of her sorrow through these otherwise traditional words. It has been argued that to a certain extent the course of Kathryna's own life may be charted through the entries in her book, including suitors' love songs as vehicles for their sentiments,Ga naar eindnoot22 the widened circle of acquaintances through her marriage, and finally the widow's lament discussed here. As a Lebensgrund der Texte with respect to contemporary song, these collections are most interesting, and it is striking how many sometimes lengthy songs were included. In his edition of the album of Kathryna von Bronckhorst, Brednich had identified the lower aristocracy in the lower Rhine area, particularly its female members, as primary recipients and transmitters of a ‘post-courtly song culture’ (1976: 28-31); this picture is nuanced but not replaced by the broader scope of Delen's work (1989). Women's alba display a distinct preference for the love song (Maria van Besten, Habel van Herema), suggesting that young female noblewomen were as preoccupied with this topic as any female teenager today (though one must remember that while only the nobility has left us with such a written record, other social groups may have enjoyed love songs as well). From three of the songs entered into her manuscript by Kathryna herself one can deduce that she must have had a copy op Het Antwerps liedboek of 1544 before her (Joldersma 1983: I, LXVI), though a further five songs entered by her demonstrate that she also had other (oral?) sources at her disposal. Kathryna and others of her aristocratic circle seemed to have appreciated songs about love in all genres, including lyrical and narrative love poems, especially dawn poems and love complaints; Habel van Herema's album shares the penchant for love songs (Heringa 1978: 25), but draws far more heavily on Rederijker sources than on an oral tradition. While songs constitute a minority of texts in Maria van Besten's album, love songs still predominate, several with explicitly erotic imagery and vocabulary. One tells of a rape: ‘Vat hij dede sij moesten ('t) liden / Har erken en diurden nit lanck’ (‘She had to suffer whatever he did / Her virginity did not last long’; Ter Kuile 1918: 51). This text is a good example of the selective transmission of images, phrases, and texts from the larger tradition in a particular collection. In the version transmitted in Het Antwerps liedboek #67, it tells of the rape and murder of ‘fier Margrietken’ (Joldersma 1983: II, 126-127). The version in Van Besten's album ends quite differently: the girl is not murdered but lives to tell her mother, the rapist is tortured and beheaded, and the song ends with a warning to ‘gesellen’ (young men) that this is what comes of disregarding the will of ‘ioncfrouwen’ (young women). Kathryna von Bronckhorst's copying of songs from Het Antwerps liedboek, like the singing maid in ‘the Doesburg incident’, points to yet another aspect of the Lebensgrund | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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der Texte which bears investigation: documented evidence of women as singers, copyists, ‘consumers’ of song. In this we can catch some glimpses of women as participants in both sacred and secular song traditions. Besides Kathryna copying from a song book, and the maid in Doesburg singing from the oral tradition, various records make relatively regular mention of women being paid for having entertained a group through singing.Ga naar eindnoot23 There are quite a number of religious women who owned song collections and passed them on to their sisters. We know of Anabaptist martyrs who died with song on their lips (Grijp 1997); Anna Jansz was arrested because her public singing revealed her to be an Anabaptist. Especially in the seventeenth century, the forewords of printed song collections specifically target young women as users, leading Louis Grijp to suggest: ‘Meisjes waren blijkbaar ook al in de zeventiende eeuw zanglustiger dan jongens’ (1992: 62). As far as I know, no study has examined systematically whether and how the contents of the collections bear evidence of being targeted at young women.Ga naar eindnoot24 In the realm of sacred song, studies on the use of books generally in women's religious institutions contain interesting details about women and music, for example that the ability to copy musical notation was considered a special skill not mastered by many.Ga naar eindnoot25 We know that among the few books owned by sister Liesbeth van Arden (c. 1416) were ‘hoer graduale ende ander sanckboeke’, about which is said that they were simply executed (‘niet vromme’), and that mediocre singers, for example Trude van Beveren, were not given their own liturgical songbooks (Scheepsma 1997: 63). A special problem is posed by the female pronouns in singer stanzas; in this, too, scholarship is wise to maintain a delicate balance between considerations of Lebensgrund der Texte and authorship in the more usual sense of ‘single identifiable individual’. Generally, scholars no longer hold that the ‘facts’ in singer stanzas provide reliable biographical information but recognize such stanzas as relatively conventional Wanderstrophen, migratory stanzas which move from song to song.Ga naar eindnoot26 Still, singer stanzas are numerous and tantalizing enough to encourage a more systematic and detailed study of them generally, with an open eye to gender variations. Without embarking on such a study here, I would suggest that in these conventional stanzas the male singer occupies a default position: if a singer is mentioned at all, that singer will be male unless there is a good reason to present a female singer. Where a female singer is mentioned, a second look at the motivation for departure from the default position is in order.Ga naar eindnoot27 Because secular and sacred song present rather different problems in this regard, I will examine a few examples from each. In song 31 of Het Zutphens Liedboek the singer stanza names a woman: ‘Der vns dytt lietien erstwarff sanck / sie hefft so wall gsungen’ (‘The one who first sang us this song / she sang it so very well’; it emphatically calls her ‘ain junckfraw fin’, a fine noble lady (Leloux 1985: 144). The song is transmitted in a number of contemporary collections (Joldersma 1983: II, 53-56); only one of the parallels has a singer stanza, which similarly mentions a female singer.Ga naar eindnoot28 The compiler of the Zutphen manuscript seems to have intentionally attributed this song to a woman, for ‘hie’ is crossed out and replaced with ‘sie’ in the second line. How is one to read this insistence? Leloux, who finds the substitution of ‘sie’ for ‘hie’ senseless, interprets the woman in the singer stanza as being the attractive young lady who moved the male singer to compose his song in the first place (1985: 145). Indeed, it is possible to argue | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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that the song portrays a consistently male perspective which celebrates physical love while castigating female faithlessness. Yet Leloux deals with the facts of the singer stanza in a somewhat cavalier fashion. Suppose, instead, that we see the singer stanza as an independent addition to this version, and focus on ‘erstwarff sanck’: the stanza reports that it was a woman who sang this particular song here for the first time. Two interpretations are possible: there really was a flesh-and-blood woman who sang it ‘beym kollen wien’ (‘while drinking cold wine’, an ambiguous reference to both a tavern situation and to sexual encounter); a male singer found it effective in his singing of the song to adopt that female persona. We can imagine that either of these two situations would have enhanced enjoyment of the song in a performance situation: a man affecting a female persona who admits to enjoying sex, a woman playing the same game. As it is, the singer stanza tells us nothing about any real woman. What it does tell us is that gender was a location for playfulness in late-medieval song. I note, in passing, that the Zutphen version of this song is the only one which specifically emphasizes the faithlessness of the woman; in all the others love is true, and the only other version with a singer stanza (also a woman) emphasizes precisely the woman's faithfulness. Song 21 in the manuscript of Jenneken Verelst differs from Zutphen 31 in that the ‘I’ persona throughout is female, lamenting that her lover has chosen another woman. The song closes with this singer stanza: Die dit heeft ghemact
al en eest niet wel geraect
elaes sij mach wel truren
haer heert na vroechden haect
haer siel na blijdschap waect
ten mach haer niet gheboeren.Ga naar eindnoot29
(‘The person who made this song / even if it didn't turn out all that well / alas, she might
well mourn! / Her heart longs for joy / her soul keeps watch for happiness / it will not
happen to her!’)
Despite the congruency between female persona in song and singer stanza, it would be a mistake to ascribe authorship of this song to a woman without further ado, anymore than Zutphen 31. Still, this song merits careful attention because of the intersection between such a consistently maintained female perspective and particular aspects of the female singer stanza. Classen has recently argued with some vehemence that precisely such songs should be ascribed to a female author: ‘Wenn dann in einer Reihe von “Volksliedern” die Sängerstimme angibt, sie als Frau habe diese Lieder verfaßt, dann sollte man doch diesen Behauptungen zunächst einmal glauben, vor allem wenn es sich nicht nur um sentimentale Affektäußerungen handelt, sondern oftmals sogar um fast als aggressiv zu nennende Klagen von Frauen, deren Liebhaber sie schmählich im Stich gelassen oder sie betrogen haben’ (1999: xix). I would not agree (Joldersma 2000b) that we can discern female authorship from a female persona (for then we are back to the first definition of ‘women's songs’), nor yet content (even aggressive complaints can be written by anyone), nor even singer stanzas (the gender of these can vary at will). Rather, this song offers two other bits of evidence, most notably the formulaic expression of modesty in the second line of the last stanza, a dis- | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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claimer common to women's writing,Ga naar eindnoot30 and the fact that this manuscript belonged to a woman. Even then, establishing authorship beyond a doubt is not the most interesting aspect of this song; what is interesting, rather, is the fact that a woman's love complaint purportedly written by a woman appealed to some real women enough for them to include it in their collection of treasured songs (Tiele 1869). The realm of sacred song poses different challenges. Here there are better reasons to argue that reference to gender in the singer stanzas is motivated more by the gender of the historical singer or author than literary or text-internal considerations. What we see as a result are identical songs varying the gender of the singer/author depending on the source in which it is transmitted. Such is the case for the religious contrafact ‘Die voghelen van deser aerden’: in the two ‘women's manuscripts’ from the fifteenth- and mid-sixteenth centuries in which it is transmitted the singer stanza names a female author, one version even more emphatically than the other (emphasis added): ‘dat hi hoer herte verlichten wil / die dit lietken heeft gedicht / dat wi by hem moeten coemen’ (Berlin SB 8o 185), ‘Dat hij haer hart wijl verlichten [...] Opdat sij hiernae mach comen’ (Marigen Remen). In the various printings of the songbook of Tonis Harmansz. van Warvershoef (c. 1600), however, the pronouns fluctuate: one retains ‘haer’ and ‘zy’ (The Hague KB 1712 E 2, Ciii), some mix female and male pronouns (‘Dat hy haer hert [...] Op dat hij hier na’: Amsterdam UB 976 C 9, 73), while others move to male pronouns alone (‘Dat hy sijn herte [...] Op dat hy hier na mach komen’: The Hague KB1703 H 8, E7r).Ga naar eindnoot31 If the song had been transmitted only in Marigen Remen's manuscript, or in her's and the other manuscript with female provenance, we might have been inclined to take the singer stanza at face value and consider as possible, if not provable, a female author. But substitution of pronouns in the printed songbook complicates the matter and cautions, should we have forgotten, that even for religious songs singer stanzas are notoriously unreliable conveyors of factual information. It could be that these are a late-medieval version of ‘women's songs’ in their first definition: poems and songs with a female I-persona, more often than not written by men, texts in which the voice of a woman is the principle or only persona. Still, I would argue that despite the ease with which the printed collection was able to substitute male for female pronouns, there are good reasons to take the manuscript versions at face value and ascribe female agency of some sort to the different versions of this song.Ga naar eindnoot32 One such reason is based on the function of singer stanzas generally, the other on a consideration of gender differences in ascribing songs to women or men. Singer stanzas can function to mark the end of a song, to adopt a poetic persona suitable to its content, or (with caveats) to convey some information about the poet or singer. As far as gender differences in ascribing songs is concerned, I have argued above that if there are no text-internal or biographical motivations for choosing one gender over another, in the stereotypic formulation of the singer stanza the default position would go to a man, while a woman would be named with specific thought and intention. For the singer stanza of ‘Die voghelen van deser aerden’, three observations can be made: it does signal the song's end; the text itself gives no reason to adopt a female persona; the stanza purports to convey some information about the poet. There seems to be no good reason for a male poet to have adopted a female persona for the singer stanza, not even if he had been writing for a female | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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audience. It therefore seems entirely possible - though never provable - that this song was indeed written by ‘haer [...] die dit liedekin heeft ghedicht’. In Marigen Remen's manuscript the following song, unique to her manuscript, has not one but two singer stanzas emphatically naming a female author, leading at least one scholar to conclude that both it and the previous song were written by a woman, ‘vermoedelijk uit eigen mystieke ervaring’ (Gerritsen 1966: lx).Ga naar eindnoot33 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
6. ConclusionDeparting from ‘the Doesburg episode’ as example, we have traversed various terrains in which women and song intersect, asking in each case what these various intersections can tell us about women and song in the late-medieval period. There are some identifiable authors, but very few; even for them, and certainly for situations in which anonymity predominates, we will see more of women's activity if we look for agents, women actively shaping the Lebensgrund that constitutes late-medieval song. As we look further, we will see endless variations on the details in the Doesburg incident: women who sing while they go about their business, religious women for whom song serves didactic purposes, religious women who adapt while they collect, women who participate in the secular tradition and women for whom the secular tradition is the framework for religious song. If for medieval literature, and possibly more so for late-medieval literature, we have more questions than answers, this is doubly the case for women: not only are there many questions, but there are even fewer answers, and of those few answers a good number must necessarily be speculative. But it is because of song that we have such questions about women at all, that we have caught glimpses of them, their existence and activities. There are other women to be glimpsed, other stories to be told, other songs to be learned, other agents to be discovered. Netherlandic literature is particularly rich in sources which have something to say about the topic of ‘women and song’; there is much research waiting to be done.
Author's address: 928 - 34th Street NW Calgary, Alberta, Canada T2N 2Y1 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Bibliografie
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