MS B44 Inferiore of Milanโs Ambrosiana Library is an unstudied aestivial (summer season) homiliary from the thirteenth century. It is an exceptionally large manuscript, measuring approximately 40cm by 30cm. An eighteenth-century librarian of the Ambrosiana marked it as a homiliary of the โAmbrosian rite,โ which is not a description meaningful for ascertaining the paradigms on which the homiliaryโs structure is based. The invocation of the โAmbrosian riteโ does, however, point to peculiarities in the Lombard regionโs liturgical calendar which B44 might reflect. The homiliaryโs reflection of local liturgical traditions could best be judged through a study of its โsanctorumโ portion; this, however, was not the focus of my time with the manuscript. Despite its large size and length, the homiliary only spans the summer part of the liturgical year. Its de tempore section begins with the Easter Vigil and ends with the Feast of the Nativity of the Virgin. The Feast of Maryโs Nativity was locally important since the Milanese Duomo was dedicated, from at least the eleventh century, to the Blessed Virginโs birth.
To familiarize myself with the manuscriptโs structure and homiletic content, I surveyed the sermons it included for the Easter season (1v-52r), noting sermon incipits from Easter until Pentecost. Though for the sanctorale section, there are a wide variety of authors, the Easter de tempore section largely consists of homilies from Sts. Ambrose, Bede, Gregory, and Augustine. The sermon choices are, however, eclectic, and do not match the arrangement of the paradigmatic homiliaries summarized by Rรฉginald Grรฉgoire in his still-unsurpassed Homรฉliaires Liturgiques Mรฉdiรฉvaux. In short, MS Inf. B44โs Easter sermons do not match those included in the Roman and Toledan homiliaries, nor those in the collections of Pseudo-Fulgencius, Paul the Deacon, or Romain dโAgimond. As far as contemporary homiletic developments go, Inf. B44 also is far removed from the pocket-manuscript homiliaries popular among the mobile mendicants; more generally, the patristic collection of Easter homilies here does not reflect high medieval developments in preaching. No โscholasticโ sermons based around themae are included, nor is there any trace of the politically and socially-charged โactivistโ preaching of mendicants like Giordano da Pisa (1255-1311) or Remigio de Girolami (d. 1319). In short, though Inf. B44 compiles an eclectic set of sermons, it is a conservative exemplar of the homiliary genre.
The description of the eighteenth-century Ambrosiana librarian on the manuscriptโs first folio also notes that B44 Inf. was acquired for the Ambrosiana in the seventeenth century, when it was removed from Milanโs cathedral. It is unknown if the homiliary had been a possession of the cathedral from the outset, and, if not, why or when it was moved to the cathedral. Judging by the highly moralizing and interior-focused content of the Easter sermons, it is possible that the homiliary had been used by the cathedral canons or a northern Italian monastic community. From its large size, it seems the homiliary likely would have stayed in one place, for use in private mediation or as an aid for the composition of monastic sermons. If we seek a more specific paradigm, it should be noted that B44 Inf. shares basic similarities with high-medieval Cistercian homiliaries copied in northern Italian and Burgundian monasteries, such as the house of Morimondo near Milan. These Cistercian homiliaries were usually fairly large, written in twelfth-century miniscule, and included sermons of Augustine, Bede, Ambrose, and Gregoryโall characteristics that B44 Inf. shares.[1] However, further study of the Cistercian homiliaries of northern Italy is necessary to ascertain whether these and our manuscript conform to a common paradigm.
Saint Maximus of Turin, Anonymous (Italian, Piedmontese), Carte Sciolte, n. 390, Archivio Storico della Cittร , Turin, from Codice degli Statuti di Torino o “Codice della Catena,” 1360.
Particularly interesting among Inf. B44โs Easter sermons is the second entry for the fifth day after Easter, located between ff. 16v and 17v. This homily, misattributed in the manuscript to St. Ambrose (probably as a result of local enthusiasm for that venerable bishop), is actually a probable composition of St. Maximus of Turin, and its main themeโdefending oneself from lustful temptationsโcoheres well with the manuscriptโs probable monastic origin. However, how the sermon conveys this theme is in no way typical, as it does so by extended engagement with the story of Ulysses and the Sirens. Though in Late Antiquity, scientific exegesis of Greek mythology was very common in neo-Platonic circles, Christocentric engagement with a mythological text is a rare phenomenon, even within Maximusโ own homiletic corpus.
To provide a brief analysis of the sermon: Maximus begins by recalling the passage of Ulyssesโ ship past the isle of the Sirens, whose lusty song is irresistible to the sailors. Because Ulysses knows that the ship will be lost if it is captured by the siren song, he ties himself to the mast. For Maximus, the mast and the ship to which the sailors cling are figures of the cross of Christ, on which all sin is expiated. Maximus soon moves from the example of Ulyssesโwhose story he calls โfictive and not factualโโto Mosesโ healing of his people by means of a snake affixed to a staff. Unlike the Ulysses example, the history of the Jewish people is factual, and so truly prefigures Christโs sacrifice. It can be argued that Maximusโ Christocentric interpretation of Ulyssesโ binding to the mast is inspired by Christian exegesis of the Hebrew Scriptures, the methods of which Maximus then applies to Greek myth. There is, after all, a strong exegetical tradition, beginning already with the second century Christian apologist Justin Martyr, which sees shipsโspecifically Noahโs arkโas a figure of the cross. From there, the paradigm might be easily transferred even to the ships of Greek myth. But transference is not all that Maximus is doing, notwithstanding his curt dismissal of Ulyssesโ story. For later in the sermon Maximus encapsulates salvation-history thus: โFittingly is he crucified on wood so that, since man was deceived in paradise by the tree of desire, he might now be saved by the same tree of wood; and the matter which was the cause of death might be the remedy of health.โ In Maximusโ thought, nature itselfโhere instantiated in woodโconstitutes the means of salvation, providing remedies for the bodily weakness of humankind. Since Ulyssesโ salvation came directly through divinely-created nature, his tale is not just some forgettable fable. In this conception, however subtly stated, pagans and non-Christians are not outside the economy of salvation, for they, too, exist within a grace-filled nature which can proffer the remedies for their ailments.
For my transcription, translation and recitations (in Modern English and Latin), see my multimedia edition of Maximus of Turin’s homily for the fifth day after Easter in Ambrosiana MS B44 Inferiore.
Mihow McKenny PhD Candidate in History University of Notre Dame
[1] Mirella Ferrari, โDopo Bernardo: biblioteche e โscriptoriaโ cisterciensi dellโItalia settentrionale nel XII secolo,โ in Pietro Zerbi, ed., San Bernardo e lโItalia. Milan, 1993, pp. 253-306.
๏ปฟ
Bibliography
DโAvray, D. L. The Preaching of the Friars: Sermons Diffused from Paris before 1300. Oxford: Clarendon, 1985.
De Lubac, Henri. Medieval Exegesis: The Four Senses of Scripture. 3 volumes. Translated by Mark Sebanc and E. M. Macierowski. Eerdmans, 1998-2009.
Ferrari, Mirella. โDopo Bernardo: biblioteche e โscriptoriaโ cisterciensi dellโItalia settentrionale nel XII secolo.โ In Pietro Zerbi, ed., San Bernardo e lโItalia. Milan, 1993, pp. 253-306.
Grรฉgoire, Rรฉginald. Homรฉliaires liturgiques mรฉdiรฉvaux : analyse de manuscrits. Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull’Alto Medioevo, 1980.
Longรจre, Jean. La Prรฉdication Mรฉdiรฉvale. Paris: รtudes Augustiniennes, 1983.
Maximus of Turin. Maximi episcopi taurinensis sermones.Edited by A. Mutzenbecher. Corpus Christianorum Series Latina, vol. 23. Turnhout: Brepols, 1962.
Rahner, Hugo, S.J. Greek Myths and Christian Mystery. Translated by Brian Battershaw. New York: Harper and Row, 1963.
When one thinks of modern Christmas, warm images from Christโs nativity to Santaโs midnight sleigh ride might come to mind. However, Saint Nicholas is not the only thing that goes bump in the nightโYule monsters represent another syncretized and modernized phenomenon, which corresponds to a medieval tradition that presents winter solstice as an ideal setting for monsters to emerge from the darkness of the long night. In celebration of the holiday season, my latest blog in our series on monsters will consider the tradition of Yuletide monsters and discuss some instances of Christmas haunting in vernacular Middle English and Old Norse-Icelandic sources, thereby catching a brief glimpse at a broader medieval tradition of monsters associated with the winter solstice.
Rima Staines, ‘Baba Yaga’ (2014).
Christmas hauntings have a deep cultural and literary history. One seasonal spook, the Slavic Baba Yagaโa present-stealing witchโis generally remembered today as a holiday monster, though her character has only become associated with Christmas and New Years in modern times. Another, perhaps the most famous Yule monster, is Krampusโthe notorious, child-stealing Christmas demon and son of Hel (the Norse goddess of the underworld), who is still popular in modern Germany and increasingly abroad. These modern Christmas hauntings align with a robust medieval tradition of Yuletide monsters that come with the cold and specifically the long night of the winter solstice. Even Grendel in Beowulf, who notoriously terrorizes the hall of Heorot, does so for XII wintra tid โtwelve wintersโ timeโ (147) specifically. While this phrase surely refers to the monsterโs yearlong assault on Denmark, it also seems to stress the dark and snowy season as the prime time for Grendel’s hauntings.
Gruss vom Krampus, 1900s greeting card reading ‘Greetings from Krampus!’
Today, I will mention three popular medieval textsโone poem and two sagasโwhich feature Christmas hauntings of all types, including by a green man, an undead revenant, a troll woman and a dragon.
Although most of the Christmas monsters discussed in this blog come from popular Old Norse-Icelandic sagas, the Middle English alliterative poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knightbegins with a mysterious Green Knight, gome gered in grene โa man geared in greenโ (179), described as half etayn in erde โhalf-giant on earthโ (140) and aluisch mon โelvish manโ (681), who appears at Camelot on Christmas riding a green horse and wielding a green axe. Not only does the Green Knight come at Yule (284), he emerges in court wearing a fur-trimmed robe (152-56) and holding a holyn bobbe โholly bundleโ (206) in his hand, as if he were the Ghost of Christmas Present from Charles Dickens’ AChristmas Carol.
Ghost of Christmas Present from film ‘Scrooge’ (1970) directed by Ronald Neame.
Moreover, he explicitly wishes to play a Crystemas gomen โChristmas gameโ (283). The passage describing the Green Knightโs arrival emphasizes his coming for the Christmas festivities, thereby linking him with the tradition of Yuletide monsters. The Green Knight declares that since there is no warrior who can match him in battle:
I craue in รพis court a Crystemas gomen, For hit is ศol and Nwe ศer, and here ar ศep mony: If any so hardy in รพis hous holdez hymseluen, Be so bolde in his blod, brayn in hys hede, รat dar stifly strike a strok for an oรพer, I schal gif hym of my gyft รพys giserne ryche, รis ax, รพat is heuรฉ innogh, to hondele as hym lykes, And I schal bide รพe fyrst bur as bare as I sitte (283-290).
โI desire in this court a Christmas game, for it is Yule and New Year, and you here are many. If any in this house holds himself so hardy, be his blood so boldโhis brain in his headโthat he dare stiffly strike one stroke for another, I shall give him my gift, this rich gisarmeโthis axeโthat is heavy enough to handle as he likes, and I shall abide the first blow, as bare as I sit.โ
Manuscript illustration of the headless Green Knight in British Library, Cotton Nero A.x f.94v.
Christmas stays a prominent theme throughout the poem, and it operates as a metric by which to measure time. Gawain spends the following Christmas with Lord and Lady Bertilak in anticipation of the subsequent Christmas game, when the Green Knight will deliver a return blow. Christmas feasting both begins and concludes this Middle English romance, enveloping the narrative with this holiday theme. Indeed, Christmas is mentioned nine times in the poem, demonstrating its role in framing the narrative. Yule is mentioned twice, and the first reference comes from the Green Knight himself as to the reason for his journey to King Arthurโs court.
The next text in our discussion is the Old Norse-Icelandic Grettis saga, which contains multiple Christmas haunting episodes, each featuring a very different type of Yule monster. In Grettis saga, the holiday of Yule is likewise a repeated fixture and marker of time, and Yule is referenced thirty-three times in the saga.
Grettir รsmundarson as depicted in a 17th-century manuscript illustration, Reykjavรญk AM 426.
The major and most frequently discussed Yuletide haunting in the saga concerns the undead revenant Glรกmr, a Swedish herdsman who ignores Christmas traditions:
Nรบ leiรฐ svo รพar til er kemr aรฐfangadagr jรณla. รรก stรณรฐ Glรกmr snemma upp ok kallaรฐi til matar sรญns. Hรบsfreyja svaraรฐi: “Ekki er รพaรฐ hรกttr kristinna manna at matast รพenna dag รพvรญ at รก morgun er jรณladagr hinn fyrsti,” segir hรบn, “ok er รพvรญ fyrst skylt at fasta รญ dag” (chapter 32).
“Now time past there until when comes the eve of Yule. Then Glรกmr stood up and called for his food. The lady of the house answered: โIt is not proper that Christian men eat meat on this day, because tomorrow is the first day of Yule,” she says, “and thus they shall first fast today.โโ
Glรกmr’s response marks him as explicitly unchristian, which may serve to foreshadow his untimely demise:
Hann svarar: “Marga hindurvitni hafiรฐ รพรฉr รพรก er ek sรฉ til einskis koma. Veit ek eigi at mรถnnum fari nรบ betr at heldr en รพรก er menn fรณru ekki meรฐ slรญkt. รรณtti mรฉr รพรก betri siรฐr er menn voru heiรฐnir kallaรฐir ok vil ek mat minn en รถngvar refjar” (32).
โHe answers, โYou have many restrictions, when I see no good come of it. I do not know that men fare better now than when they did not heed such things. It seems to me that the customs of men were better when they were called heathens, and now I want my meat, and no foolishness.”
Michael Davini, “Viking Village” (2011).
After his praise for heathenism, spurring caution, Glรกmr ventures into a known haunted region at Yuletide, and he never returns. We are told that kom hann ekki heim jรณlanรณttina โhe came not home on Yule-nightโ and soon we learn that he has died. After days of searching and a number of attempts to bring Glรกmrโs body to the church to be buried, eventually the townsfolk give up and bury Glรกmr where they find him, and รaรฐ drรณgu menn saman at sรบ meinvรฆttr er รกรฐr hafรฐi รพar veriรฐ mundi hafa deytt Glรกm โmen drew from this, that the evil spirit which had been there before will have killed Glรกmr.โ However, shortly thereafter, it is the undead Glรกmr who perpetrates Yuletide hauntings, as the saga reports:
Litlu sรญรฐar urรฐu menn varir viรฐ รพaรฐ at Glรกmr lรก eigi kyrr. Varรฐ mรถnnum at รพvรญ mikiรฐ mein svo at margir fรฉllu รญ รณvit ef sรกu hann en sumir hรฉldu eigi vitinu. รegar eftir jรณlin รพรณttust menn sjรก hann heima รพar รก bรฆnum. Urรฐu menn รกkaflega hrรฆddir. Stukku รพรก margir menn รญ burt. รvรญ nรฆst tรณk Glรกmr at rรญรฐa hรบsum รก nรฆtr svo at lรก viรฐ brotum (32).
โA little time after men were aware that Glรกmr did not lay quiet. People become so greatly disturbed by this, that many fell into hysteria when they saw him, and some lost their wits. Even after Yule men thought they saw him at home on the farm. People became extremely scared. Many men then fled. Next, Glรกmr took to riding houses at night, so that he nearly broke them.โ
John Vernon Lord, illustration of Glรกmr riding roofs in ‘Icelandic Sagas’ 2, The Folio Society, 2002.
Grettir famously defeats Glรกmr, who is frequently associated with the Old Norse-Icelandic draugr, but not until the revenant has cursed Grettir with unceasing fear of the dark, as terrible light from Glรกmrโs eyes haunts Grettir until the end of his days and he becomes nyctophobic forevermore.
Another Yuletide monster discussed in the saga takes place when Grettir arrives at Sandhaug to investing a trวซllagangr โtroll-hauntingโ (chapter 64), and he encounters a trวซllkona โtroll womanโ (65). This monster enters the halls of Sandhaug on aรฐfangadag jรณla โYule-eveโ (64), and she plunders the halls during the long night:
Nรบ er frรก Gretti รพaรฐ at segja at รพรก er drรณ at miรฐri nรณtt heyrรฐi hann รบt dynr miklar. รvรญ nรฆst kom inn รญ stofuna trวซllkona mikil. Hรบn hafรฐi รญ hendi trog en annarri skรกlm heldr mikla. Hรบn litast um er hรบn kom inn ok sรก hvar Gestur lรก ok hljรณp at honum en hann upp รญ mรณti ok rรฉรฐust รก grimmlega ok sรณttust lengi รญ stofunni (65).
โNow it is said of Grettir that when it drew towards midnight, he heard a great din outside. Then a great troll woman came into the hall. She had a trough in one hand, and a blade, rather great, in the other. She looked around when she came in and saw where ‘Guest’ [i.e. Grettir] lay and ran towards him, but he jumped up to meet her, and they wrestled fiercely and struggled together for a long time in the hall.โ
John Bauer, ‘Troll Cave with Deer’ (1915).
Eventually, she drags Grettir from the hall, carries him off and tries to escape to her lair ofan til รกrinnar ok allt fram at gljรบfrum โup to the river and all the way to the gorgesโ (65). Grettir is ultimately able to cut her shoulder, slicing off the troll woman’s arm, a fatal blow which sends her off a cliff and to her death. After recovering from his encounter with the troll woman, Grettir sneaks into her cave and slays her companion, a jวซtunn โgiantโ (66).
The final Yuletide haunting discussed in this blog comes from Hrรณlfs saga kraka, when a massive flying dรฝr โbeastโ (probably a dragon of some kind) threatens the hall. The cowardly Hวซttr explains how this night-terror returns during Yule to haunt the hall of king Hrรณlfr:
Ok sem leiรฐ at jรณlum, gerรฐust menn รณkรกtir. Bวซรฐvarr spyrr Hวซtt, hverju รพetta sรฆtti. Hann segir honum, at dรฝr eitt hafi รพar komit tvรก vetr รญ samt, mikit ok รณgurligt, “ok hefir vรฆngi รก bakinu, ok flรฝgr รพat jafnan. Tvau haust hefir รพat nรบ hingat vitjat ok gert mikinn skaรฐa. ร รพat bรญta ekki vรกpn, en kappar konungs koma ekki heim, รพeir sem at eru einna mestir.
Bวซรฐvarr mรฆlti: “Ekki er hวซllin svรก vel skipuรฐ sem ek รฆtlaรฐi, ef eitt dรฝr skal hรฉr eyรฐa rรญki ok fรฉ konungsins.” Hวซttr sagรฐi: “รat er ekki dรฝr, heldr er รพat mesta trวซll” (chapter 35).
โAnd as Yule neared, men became gloomy. Bวซรฐvarr asked Hวซttr what caused this. He said to him that a beast had come there for two winters in a row, great and monstrous. โAnd it has wings on its back and frequently flies. For two autumns now it has visited and caused great harm. No weapon bites it, and the kingโs champions, those who are the greatest, do not come home.โโ
Bวซรฐvarr spoke: โthe hall is not so well guarded as I thought, if one beast shall here destroy the kingโs realm and livestock.โ Hวซttr said: โIt is not a beast, rather it is the greatest troll.โ”
A Winged Dragon in a bestiary, 1278โ1300, Franco-Flemish. Tempera colors, pen and ink, gold leaf, and gold paint on parchment. The J. Paul Getty Museum, MS Ludwig XV 4, f.94.
This warning is quickly validated, for when jรณlaaptann โYule-eveโ arrives, King Hrรณlfr commands his warriors to stay inside and forbids them from fighting the monster, proclaiming that it is better to lose his livestock than his people. However, Bวซรฐvarr Bjarki sneaks into the night, dragging Hวซttr behind him, and the hero quickly slays the Yuletide monster terrorizing the kingdom. Then, at Bวซรฐvarrโs behest, Hวซttr consumes the flesh and blood of the beast, which strengthens and emboldens him, transforming him into a hero (in a way that recalls Sigurรฐrโs actions after Fรกfnir is slain).
These medieval stories of Yuletide monsters participate in a robust tradition of winter-time (and even Christmas-specific) hauntings, which continued throughout the ages and manifests still today. Dickensโ Christmas Carol is perhaps one of the more memorable, with visitations by four ghosts at the home of the miserly Ebenezer Scrooge on Christmas Eve. Dr. Seussโs Grinch renders its Scrooge-like antihero in the form of a green Christmas-hating monster bent on stealing Christmas, and Tim Burtonโs Nightmare Before Christmas explores the theme of Christmas haunting when the pumpkin king and leader of Halloween Town, Jack Skellington, decides he would rather celebrate Christmas one year instead out of sheer boredom with his own holiday. Jack then proceeds to haunt Christmas transforming cozy festivities into a horror show as if he were a Yule monster of old.
Jack Skellington and Santa Claus from Tim Burton’s ‘Nightmare Before Christmas’ (1993).
More recently, in George R.R. Martinโs Song of Ice and Fire (and HBO’s corresponding TV series Game of Thrones), winter monsters known as the White Walkers (seemingly inspired by Old Norse-Icelandic revenants), led by the fearsome Night King, come with the cold in the long night to terrorize Westeros. Even Netflixโs edgy reboot of Sabrina the Teen-age Witch, appropriately retitled Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (2018), gives a nod to medieval tales of wintertime monsters when during the solstice the Spellmans place a protective candle in the chimney to prevent Yule demons from entering their home; however, this does not stop Grรฝlaโan Icelandic giantessโfrom visiting during the night when the witches’ protective candle becomes accidentally extinguished.
Night King from season eight of HBO’s ‘Game of Thrones’ TV series (2018).
Yuletide continues to provide a haunting wintry setting for monster visits. Although often balanced by saccharine images of Christmas as a source of light and warmth against the cold dark, what lurks beyond the illumination of society during the long night seems to readily elicit horror in the modernโas well as medievalโimagination.
Richard Fahey PhD in English University of Notre Dame
Carriรจre, Jean Louise. “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight as a Christmas Poem.” Comitatus: A Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies 1.1 (1970): 25-42.
Chadwick, Nora K. โNorse Ghosts (A Study in the Draugr and the Haugรบbi).โ Folklore 57 (1946): 50โ65
โ. โNorse Ghosts II (Continued).โ Folklore 57 (1946): 106โ127
Jakobsson, รrmann and Miriam Mayburd. Paranormal Encounters in Iceland 1150โ1400. Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 2020.
โ. โVampires and Watchmen: Categorizing the Medieval Undead.โ Journal of English and Germanic Philology 110 (2011): 281โ300
โ. โThe Fearless Vampire Killers: A Note about the Icelandic Draugr and Demonic Contamination in Grettis Saga.โ Folklore 120 (2009): 307โ316.
Kirk, Elizabeth D. “‘Wel Bycommes Such Craft Upon Cristmasse’: the Festive and the Hermeneutic in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.” Arthuriana 4.2 (1994): 93-137.
With Witch ranked the most popular costume nationwide, Frightgeist reports, โThereโs a frighteningly high chance you will see a Witch costume on Halloween this yearโ โ and these costumes will likely share some similarities. Asked to describe the physical features of a witch, we tend to list tropic characteristics like those returned through a Google search: she is old and ugly with a hooked nose and green or otherwise sallow skin. First and foremost, however, the witch is a woman.
The iconic Wicked Witch of the West, played by Margaret Hamilton in The Wizard of Oz (1939).
The last known execution for witchcraft was recorded in 1782, at which time some 110,000 people had been tried and up to 60,000 had been executed โ most of them women.[1] Not quite as well-known as the witch trials themselves, the Malleus maleficarum, or the Hammer of Witches, served not only as an extensive manual for the identification of witches but also advocated for their extermination.
But even before the publication of the Malleus in 1487, there was De secretis mulierum, or On the Secrets of Women, an immensely popular treatise composed in the late-thirteenth or early-fourteenth century that still survives in more than 80 manuscripts. Drawing from medieval medical philosophy, the Secrets branded women as evil based on their biological composition and helped lay the foundation for the figure of the witch, which resulted in the deaths of so many women.
Specifically, the ideas about sexuality solidified through the intersections of medicine and religion situated women not merely as inferior to men but as polluted both physiologically and psychologically, via which they were eventually posited as predisposed to evil. The anatomical traits that distinguished women and men situated the sexes as binary opposites: they were a heterogenous, hierarchical pair. In conjunction with humoral theory, female softness and weakness were attributed to the bodyโs cool composition, while male strength and hardness were generated by their hot and dry climates.
Diagram illustrating the relationship of the four humors, depicted as radiating diagonally from the center, to the temperaments, planets, and seasons (c. 1450-1475), The Morgan Library & Museum MS B.27.
Menstrual blood and semen, according to medieval physicians, were the defining essences of woman and man and were starkly contrasted in terms of their character. Menstrual blood was seen as an excess and, therefore, as physical evidence of the defectiveness of the female body because โit marked the inability of the body to become warm enough to refine blood.โ[2] The blood itself was considered toxic because it was comprised of โunrefined impurities.โ[3]
Schematic diagram of a uterus, one of the earliest surviving anatomical drawings from Western Europe (c. 1250-1310), Bodleian MS Ashmole 399, f. 13v.
Although semen was thought to be a form of blood, it was blood that had been transformed into a precious substance within the testicles after traveling down the spinal cord from the brain.[4] Through its direct connection with the brain, male sexuality was associated with cognitive activity and rational, measured behavior. Womenโs sexuality was posited as opposite: their bodies were considered passive, but women themselves were considered โprofoundly sexual.โ[5] The womb was central to the understanding of female anatomy and determined womenโs passivity in contrast to menโs activity, as well as her association with the physical body. Moreover, women were characterized as open in relation to their genitalia, which subsequently indicated their openness to sexual activity and informed the idea that women were inherently lustful.[6]
In an image accompanying the first of the seduction scenes in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (c. 1400), the Lady stands over Gawain while he lies asleep, apparently naked, British Library MS Cotton Nero A.x., f. 125/129r.
Attitudes toward womenโs sexuality were also influenced by Christian beliefs, which associated sex with original sin. As the descendants of Eve, women were deeply connected with desire and consistently constructed as temptresses. In effect, they disproportionately bore responsibility where temptations of the flesh were concerned. Church fathers considered men โstrong, rational, and spiritual by nature,โ while women were โnot only soft, but carnal,โ in short, they โembodied sexualityโ and continuously reproduced Eveโs initial temptation of Adam.[7]
Illuminated image of The Fall of Man, depicting Adam and Eve holding fruit from the Tree of Knowledge to their mouths and a female-headed serpent entwined around the trunk between them, Ramsey Psalter leaves (c. 1300-1310), The Morgan Library & Museum MS M.302, f. 1r.
Drawing upon both biology and theology, medieval medicine synthesized the phallocentric understandings of womenโs bodies and their perceived proclivity for sex and sin. While intercourse was believed to negatively alter menโs bodily composition, it was considered necessary for women, who were more likely to suffer from a lack of sexual activity. Menstrual blood was considered superfluous and conflated with pollution: its retention harmed the woman whose body failed to purge its humoral excess, and its expulsion threatened to poison others, causing illness and even death. Because their bodies were viewed as toxic, women were considered largely responsible for the transmission of diseases, especially those associated with sexual activity.
Marginal image of a leprous beggar ringing a bell from The Evesham Pontifical (c. 1400), British Library MS Lansdowne 451, f. 127r.
The Secrets then transmuted medical philosophy into overt misogyny and deemed women dangerous explicitly in relation to their sexuality. A particularly poignant passage describes the process by which women, essentially, drained and absorbed menโs life force through sex:
โThe more women have sexual intercourse, the stronger they become, because they are made hot from the motion that the man makes during coitus. Further, male sperm is hot because it is of the same nature as air and when it is received by the woman it warms her entire body, so women are strengthened by this heat.โ[8]
Describing menstruation as a time during which โmany evilsโ arise, the Secrets cautions against intercourse, warning men that women are prone and prepared to deliberately cause them harm: โFor when men have intercourse with these women it sometimes happens that they suffer a large wound and a serious infection of the penis because of iron that has been placed in the vagina.โ[9] According to a commentary that often circulated with the manuscript, the man may not even notice that he has been wounded by the iron vindictively concealed within the vagina โbecause of the exceeding pleasure and sweetness of the vulva,โ[10] an ominous addendum that vividly draws together desire, danger, and disease at the site of the female body.
Desire and danger similarly coalesce in Sarah Stephensโ role in The VVitch (2015). Set in Puritan New England in 1630, the film portrays the destruction of a pious family whose fear of witchcraft spreads among them like a disease.
Even body parts not in direct contact with menstrual blood could become infected during menstruation. The Secrets describes the process by which a serpent is generated following the planting of hairs from a menstruating woman,[11] a proposition that viscerally evokes womenโs connection with Eve and, more pointedly, with the devil.
A witch attempts to entice the young protagonist with a snake she removes from her handbag in The Witches (1990), based on the novel by Roald Dahl. Moments later, she places its body around her neck and then begins whispering to the creature. The 2020 remake emphasizes the connection between witches and snakes at several points in its revised plot, including the snake-like resemblance of the witches themselves.
Older women were considered especially dangerous when their periods became intermittent, even more so following menopause when they failed to discharge superfluous fluid from their bodies and became increasingly noxious as a result. A passage from the Secrets explains as follows:
โIf old women who still have their periods, and certain others who do not have them regularly, look at children lying in the cradle, they transmit to them venom through their glance โฆ One may wonder why old women, who no longer have periods, infect children in this way. It is because the retention of the menses engenders many evil humours, and these women, being old, have almost no natural heat left to consume and control this matter, especially poor women, who live off nothing but coarse meat, which greatly contributes to this phenomenon. These women are more venomous than the others.โ[12]
As the passage indicates, women who ceased to menstruate and subsisted on meager means were additionally threatening, a claim that further ostracized those already existing at outer margins of class society.
Located deep in the woods but eschewing its candy coating for far scarier fare, the witchโs house in Gretel and Hansel (2020) distances her from society, a feature that pervades both folkloric and popular culture representations of the witch.
The innate malice of womenโs bodies, illustrated so poignantly in the Secrets, was a disparaging ideological assemblage disseminated throughout the late Middle Ages, which became ingrained and interpreted in a way that unequivocally connected womenโs sexuality with evil. The treatise emphasizes the wickedness of womenโs physiological composition and psychological character and elevates their social stigma to its medieval pinnacle, perfectly epitomized in the textโs avowal that โwoman has a greater desire for coitus than a man, for something foul is drawn to the good.โ[13] And of course, men were not the only ones at risk; the innocent victims often included children.
The Sanderson sisters, from Disneyโs ‘Hocus Pocus’ (1993), who despite their humorous depiction draw their strength by sapping the life from children.
It is these misogynistic ideas about womenโs sexuality that seeded their demonization in the years that followed, as the Secrets served as a direct source for the Malleus maleficarum. Indeed, the most famous statement from the Malleus explicitly connects witchery with ideas about womenโs sexuality rooted in the medieval period: โAll witchcraft comes from carnal lust, which is in women insatiable.โ[14]
Women giving wax dolls to the devil, The History of Witches and Wizards, 1720, Wellcome Collection, London, U.K.
Emily McLemore Ph.D. Candidate, Department of English University of Notre Dame
[2] Joyce Salisbury, โGendered Sexuality,โ Handbook of Medieval Sexuality, edited by Vern L. Bullough and James A. Brundage, New York and London: Garland Publishing, Inc. (1996): 81-102, at 89.
[4] Danielle Jacquart and Claude Thomasset, Sexuality and Medicine in the Middle Ages, translated by Matthew Adamson, Cambridge: Polity Press (1988), at 13.
[8] Helen Rodnite Lemay, Womenโs Secrets: A Translation of Pseudo-Albertus Magnusโ De Secretis Mulierum with Commentaries, Albany: State University of New York Press (1992), at 127.
[12]Les Admirables secrets de magie du Grand Albert et du petit Albert, MS Paris, Bibliothรฉque nationale, Latin 7148, fol. 2 r. 9 v., translated by Jacquart and Thomasset, Sexuality and Medicine in the Middle Ages, at 75.
