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Kathryn Hughes: rereading Alone of All Her Sex by Marina Warner Kathryn Hughes: rereading Alone of All Her Sex by Marina Warner
(6 months later)
I first read Alone of All Her Sex, Marina Warner's cultural history of the Virgin Mary, a few years after its publication in 1976. I was a teenager and beginning to lose the Anglican faith that had been so important to my family for generations. The annoying thing was that no one had noticed. Or, if they had, they were far too polite to say. The idea of anyone inquiring into the state of my soul would have seemed slightly obscene. As a reaction to such diffidence, I had recently become obsessed by the idea of Roman Catholicism, which sounded as if it had a whole load more sturm und drang going on. At the very least someone would notice if you didn't turn up to church.I first read Alone of All Her Sex, Marina Warner's cultural history of the Virgin Mary, a few years after its publication in 1976. I was a teenager and beginning to lose the Anglican faith that had been so important to my family for generations. The annoying thing was that no one had noticed. Or, if they had, they were far too polite to say. The idea of anyone inquiring into the state of my soul would have seemed slightly obscene. As a reaction to such diffidence, I had recently become obsessed by the idea of Roman Catholicism, which sounded as if it had a whole load more sturm und drang going on. At the very least someone would notice if you didn't turn up to church.
I didn't know any Catholics, but I'd heard about the perks. You got your own saint, and another name if you didn't like the one your parents had landed you with. You dressed up like a bridesmaid for your first communion and you got a rosary which sounded a bit like a charm bracelet – a huge plus for someone like me who wasn't allowed jewellery. But finally, and most important of all, the Catholic church seemed historically to have given a starring role to young girls. Far from being insignificant inbetweeners, female teenagers got to do miracles and hang out in their own grottos, to which people came from far and wide just to admire them. It seemed a lot more exciting than sitting quietly at home revising for your O-levels.I didn't know any Catholics, but I'd heard about the perks. You got your own saint, and another name if you didn't like the one your parents had landed you with. You dressed up like a bridesmaid for your first communion and you got a rosary which sounded a bit like a charm bracelet – a huge plus for someone like me who wasn't allowed jewellery. But finally, and most important of all, the Catholic church seemed historically to have given a starring role to young girls. Far from being insignificant inbetweeners, female teenagers got to do miracles and hang out in their own grottos, to which people came from far and wide just to admire them. It seemed a lot more exciting than sitting quietly at home revising for your O-levels.
But reading Alone of All Her Sex soon put paid to any fantasies about becoming a new Saint Bernadette. In her prologue Warner wrote of the realities of growing up as a convent-educated Catholic in the 1950s. True, on high days and holidays she and her classmates had worn "veils of tulle that stood around us like a nimbus" but, once puberty hit, she carried a burden of guilt that made adolescence more miserable than it need have been. Warner describes self-punishing teenagers lying cruciform on hard dormitory floors to atone for a "dirty thought", of tearful sessions in the confessional after a particularly heavy groping session at what she quaintly calls "a lights-out party". And then there was the agony of plucking up the courage to leave the Mother Church altogether. Warner recounts a recent visit to Notre Dame where she had stood "tears starting in my eyes, furious at that old love's enduring power to move me". It made my gentle disengagement from the Church of England seem not so much tepid as serene and rather sane.But reading Alone of All Her Sex soon put paid to any fantasies about becoming a new Saint Bernadette. In her prologue Warner wrote of the realities of growing up as a convent-educated Catholic in the 1950s. True, on high days and holidays she and her classmates had worn "veils of tulle that stood around us like a nimbus" but, once puberty hit, she carried a burden of guilt that made adolescence more miserable than it need have been. Warner describes self-punishing teenagers lying cruciform on hard dormitory floors to atone for a "dirty thought", of tearful sessions in the confessional after a particularly heavy groping session at what she quaintly calls "a lights-out party". And then there was the agony of plucking up the courage to leave the Mother Church altogether. Warner recounts a recent visit to Notre Dame where she had stood "tears starting in my eyes, furious at that old love's enduring power to move me". It made my gentle disengagement from the Church of England seem not so much tepid as serene and rather sane.
Warner included this autobiographical material because, she explained, her desire to study "the myth and the cult of the Virgin Mary" was "the outcome of a private journey". That phrase alone is enough to plunge today's reader straight back to 1976 when, for female intellectuals, the personal had become urgently political. Warner was giving notice that her book would not be an act of disembodied scholarship but an engaged inquiry into how the female figure that had so dominated her youth had in fact been assembled by men.Warner included this autobiographical material because, she explained, her desire to study "the myth and the cult of the Virgin Mary" was "the outcome of a private journey". That phrase alone is enough to plunge today's reader straight back to 1976 when, for female intellectuals, the personal had become urgently political. Warner was giving notice that her book would not be an act of disembodied scholarship but an engaged inquiry into how the female figure that had so dominated her youth had in fact been assembled by men.
This was not as angry as it sounds. Warner is clear that she is writing as a lapsed Catholic rather than a hostile nonbeliever. She emphasises too her continuing pleasure in the symbols that "enfold" the Virgin. It was not so much the remnants of faith as a "world of music, flowers, perfumes and painting" that ambushed her during that poignant visit to Notre Dame.This was not as angry as it sounds. Warner is clear that she is writing as a lapsed Catholic rather than a hostile nonbeliever. She emphasises too her continuing pleasure in the symbols that "enfold" the Virgin. It was not so much the remnants of faith as a "world of music, flowers, perfumes and painting" that ambushed her during that poignant visit to Notre Dame.
This privileging of the material realm is the beginning, the first sighting almost, of what would become key in Warner's thinking and writing. "Culture" for her meant not just the words and stories that shaped the imagination, but the material forms that embodied it. In Alone of All Her Sex she shows herself a deft reader of texts as varied as St Paul's Ephesians, Plato's Symposium and Dante's Inferno, but she deals with cheap plaster Virgins at roadside shrines as well as the great devotional masterworks of the Renaissance. This three-dimensional approach would be developed in Monuments and Maidens (1985) and brought to new sophistication in works including Phantasmagoria (2008) and Stranger Magic (2011). Several decades before our current intellectual love affair with "material culture", Warner understood that, in a world where the majority has always been unlettered, it is pictures and objects that speak loudest.This privileging of the material realm is the beginning, the first sighting almost, of what would become key in Warner's thinking and writing. "Culture" for her meant not just the words and stories that shaped the imagination, but the material forms that embodied it. In Alone of All Her Sex she shows herself a deft reader of texts as varied as St Paul's Ephesians, Plato's Symposium and Dante's Inferno, but she deals with cheap plaster Virgins at roadside shrines as well as the great devotional masterworks of the Renaissance. This three-dimensional approach would be developed in Monuments and Maidens (1985) and brought to new sophistication in works including Phantasmagoria (2008) and Stranger Magic (2011). Several decades before our current intellectual love affair with "material culture", Warner understood that, in a world where the majority has always been unlettered, it is pictures and objects that speak loudest.
Despite her convent education, Warner says that she had been startled, on rereading the New Testament as an adult, to find that there were so few references to the Virgin Mary. At that moment, my 16-year-old reading self may well have experienced a little surge of sectarian superiority. While Protestant girls may not get to wear tulle veils to church, they do know their gospels. I could have reeled off fluently the places where Mary appears: at the nativity, when teenage Jesus goes missing in the temple, at the Cana wedding feast when water is turned into wine, and at the foot of the cross. All the other stuff that subsequently became part of Mary's mythology – the Assumption, her position as chief intercessor, the useful ability to tame unicorns – had been stitched together from the Apocrypha, from classical and Islamic sources and, most importantly, from the bits and pieces lying around in western culture during the storymaking second century.Despite her convent education, Warner says that she had been startled, on rereading the New Testament as an adult, to find that there were so few references to the Virgin Mary. At that moment, my 16-year-old reading self may well have experienced a little surge of sectarian superiority. While Protestant girls may not get to wear tulle veils to church, they do know their gospels. I could have reeled off fluently the places where Mary appears: at the nativity, when teenage Jesus goes missing in the temple, at the Cana wedding feast when water is turned into wine, and at the foot of the cross. All the other stuff that subsequently became part of Mary's mythology – the Assumption, her position as chief intercessor, the useful ability to tame unicorns – had been stitched together from the Apocrypha, from classical and Islamic sources and, most importantly, from the bits and pieces lying around in western culture during the storymaking second century.
It is this process of accretion and proliferation that Warner sets about unpicking, showing how different Marys developed according to the particular social and political moment. There is Mary as the Queen of Heaven, laden with jewels and a glittering crown, who pops up during the early medieval period in those regions where the church was keen to assert its temporal power over uppity earthlings. In the 12th century she becomes an unobtainable courtly lady, someone to whom a troubadour might address his sublimated erotic longings without fear of seeming fresh. A hundred years later, and with Europe decimated by the Black Death, Mary's status as mater dolorosa made her a sympathetic friend to those trying to make sense of catastrophic loss.It is this process of accretion and proliferation that Warner sets about unpicking, showing how different Marys developed according to the particular social and political moment. There is Mary as the Queen of Heaven, laden with jewels and a glittering crown, who pops up during the early medieval period in those regions where the church was keen to assert its temporal power over uppity earthlings. In the 12th century she becomes an unobtainable courtly lady, someone to whom a troubadour might address his sublimated erotic longings without fear of seeming fresh. A hundred years later, and with Europe decimated by the Black Death, Mary's status as mater dolorosa made her a sympathetic friend to those trying to make sense of catastrophic loss.
But what really interested Warner was how Mary became a virgin. Not any old virgin, but one who had hung on to her hymen despite giving birth to a bouncing son. The doctrine of Mary's perpetual maidenhood had hovered oppressively over Warner as a teenager, and was now telling her in the pill-happy 1970s that sex was not only dirty, but that it was also irredeemably female. Why else would it be necessary to contort logic so that the mother of Christ could be both absolutely carnal – never has a woman been identified so absolutely with her body – and yet entirely etherealised. And how, more importantly, could any earthly woman hope to follow her example?But what really interested Warner was how Mary became a virgin. Not any old virgin, but one who had hung on to her hymen despite giving birth to a bouncing son. The doctrine of Mary's perpetual maidenhood had hovered oppressively over Warner as a teenager, and was now telling her in the pill-happy 1970s that sex was not only dirty, but that it was also irredeemably female. Why else would it be necessary to contort logic so that the mother of Christ could be both absolutely carnal – never has a woman been identified so absolutely with her body – and yet entirely etherealised. And how, more importantly, could any earthly woman hope to follow her example?
It is at moments like these that you spot Warner's deep unease with the current – that is 1970s – Catholic church. The ban on contraception strikes her as "absurd", anyone who believes literally in Genesis is a "bigot" and, most provocative of all, she thinks that the moral code affirmed by the Virgin "has been exhausted". No wonder that Alone of All Her Sex produced a storm of criticism from conservative Catholics who declared it "stridently" feminist – by which they meant blasphemingly secular. Some even offered to pray for the author's soul.It is at moments like these that you spot Warner's deep unease with the current – that is 1970s – Catholic church. The ban on contraception strikes her as "absurd", anyone who believes literally in Genesis is a "bigot" and, most provocative of all, she thinks that the moral code affirmed by the Virgin "has been exhausted". No wonder that Alone of All Her Sex produced a storm of criticism from conservative Catholics who declared it "stridently" feminist – by which they meant blasphemingly secular. Some even offered to pray for the author's soul.
As a result, Alone of All Her Sex regularly got lumped together with The Female Eunuch, which had appeared six years earlier from that other lapsed Catholic, Germaine Greer. Yet the two books could not have been more different. The Female Eunuch frolicked in its own excess, declaring in its preface that "if it is not ridiculed or reviled it will have failed of its intention" and exhorting its readers to taste their own menstrual blood. Alone of All Her Sex, meanwhile, comprised 400 pages of densely footnoted theological exegesis. While The Female Eunuch had exclamation marks, Alone of All Her Sex had sub‑clauses.As a result, Alone of All Her Sex regularly got lumped together with The Female Eunuch, which had appeared six years earlier from that other lapsed Catholic, Germaine Greer. Yet the two books could not have been more different. The Female Eunuch frolicked in its own excess, declaring in its preface that "if it is not ridiculed or reviled it will have failed of its intention" and exhorting its readers to taste their own menstrual blood. Alone of All Her Sex, meanwhile, comprised 400 pages of densely footnoted theological exegesis. While The Female Eunuch had exclamation marks, Alone of All Her Sex had sub‑clauses.
And what those sub-clauses added up to was the argument that the Virgin Mary had pretty much had her day. In the brave new world of "sex equality" she would recede into legend, becoming as quaint and harmless as St George and his dragon, or Boadicea and her chariot. Of course there would be plenty of "splendour and lyricism" continuing to cling to the legend, but the Virgin would lose her powers "to heal and to harm". If Warner weren't such a well-mannered textual presence, you might almost believe that you could hear her laughing triumphantly in the background as she wrote these final lines.And what those sub-clauses added up to was the argument that the Virgin Mary had pretty much had her day. In the brave new world of "sex equality" she would recede into legend, becoming as quaint and harmless as St George and his dragon, or Boadicea and her chariot. Of course there would be plenty of "splendour and lyricism" continuing to cling to the legend, but the Virgin would lose her powers "to heal and to harm". If Warner weren't such a well-mannered textual presence, you might almost believe that you could hear her laughing triumphantly in the background as she wrote these final lines.
She turned out to be quite wrong: 37 years and a great deal of sex equality legislation later, the Virgin Mary is looking more entrenched than ever. In her new preface Warner sketches out the unexpected reasons why this might be. The 9/11 attacks, she reckons, sharpened up religious allegiances, even among those who thought they had none. States that defined themselves as secular now started arguing that a war against Iraq might well be "just", or even "holy". Appalled by this crusading rhetoric, militant atheists piled in to protest at the way that the public sphere had been hijacked by faith groups.She turned out to be quite wrong: 37 years and a great deal of sex equality legislation later, the Virgin Mary is looking more entrenched than ever. In her new preface Warner sketches out the unexpected reasons why this might be. The 9/11 attacks, she reckons, sharpened up religious allegiances, even among those who thought they had none. States that defined themselves as secular now started arguing that a war against Iraq might well be "just", or even "holy". Appalled by this crusading rhetoric, militant atheists piled in to protest at the way that the public sphere had been hijacked by faith groups.
None of this involves Mary directly of course, but Warner's point is that once religion enters the general discourse, no matter how opaquely, its symbols and practices will not be far behind. How else are we to explain the way that roadside shrines are now regularly erected at dangerous junctions where someone has died? Or the ghostly white bicycles that mark the place where someone was knocked over? Or the fact that when the anti-capitalists wished to set up camp they settled in the lea of St Paul's? Or even, at our most banal, how we gawped our way through the royal wedding? We are all, says Warner, sacramentalists now.None of this involves Mary directly of course, but Warner's point is that once religion enters the general discourse, no matter how opaquely, its symbols and practices will not be far behind. How else are we to explain the way that roadside shrines are now regularly erected at dangerous junctions where someone has died? Or the ghostly white bicycles that mark the place where someone was knocked over? Or the fact that when the anti-capitalists wished to set up camp they settled in the lea of St Paul's? Or even, at our most banal, how we gawped our way through the royal wedding? We are all, says Warner, sacramentalists now.
In this new landscape where symbols float free of their original meaning without necessarily becoming meaningless, Mary has a special part to play. Warner believes that the Virgin is well on her way to becoming a universal countercultural symbol "closer to the voodoo goddess Erzulie or the Candomblé figure of Jemanja than a traditional Madonna". In short, the Virgin Mary has become an empty vessel into which men and women pour the ideals and hopes that they cannot quite contain within themselves. This, of course, is exactly the process that Marina Warner was describing nearly 40 years ago in the first edition of Alone of All Her Sex. Somehow it has taken this long for the rest of us to catch up.In this new landscape where symbols float free of their original meaning without necessarily becoming meaningless, Mary has a special part to play. Warner believes that the Virgin is well on her way to becoming a universal countercultural symbol "closer to the voodoo goddess Erzulie or the Candomblé figure of Jemanja than a traditional Madonna". In short, the Virgin Mary has become an empty vessel into which men and women pour the ideals and hopes that they cannot quite contain within themselves. This, of course, is exactly the process that Marina Warner was describing nearly 40 years ago in the first edition of Alone of All Her Sex. Somehow it has taken this long for the rest of us to catch up.
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