Friday, January 30, 2009

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

What strikes me most about Whatley's excerpts is that they seem to be instructive only in the conduct of the husband and wife, and mention nothing whatsoever about feelings or emotions. True I didn't do any further reading, but I am guessing that if I had, I wouldn't have found much more on this issue of feelings or love. I understand that this was the way of the times, especially for the aristocratic class. However, I still find it difficult to believe that this ever really worked well for anybody. In my eyes, Anne and Frankford are both victims of this awkward societal structure.
I feel that if we must blame one of them for the demise of their marriage, we must also blame the other (based on Whatley's writings, anyways). Frankford seems to have failed in "the keeping of his authority" (Whatley), which Whatley actually names as a responsibility before "the using of his authority" (Whatley). By taking leave of his house and telling Wendoll that he was to act as master of the estate, he gave up some of that precious authority, which enabled this downward spiral to begin. As far as the woman's role according to Whatley goes, Anne doesn't seem to have done too well either. Whatley warns not to do a lot of things, especially not to be "passionate", which Anne obviously disobeyed in the play. She let her passions get in the way of her duties as a wife and mother.

In short I guess I think that everybody is to blame, and nobody is to blame. True, both Frankford and Anne faltered gravely. However, it is difficult to find fault in their actions as they are both products of a society that values appearances over true feelings.

The Ties That Bind... Or Don't.

It seems as if Heywood is attempting to stay in line with the Protestant ideals of marriage while gently calling some of its flaws to attention. He remains safely maintains adherence to the concept of the Protestant marriage by punishing Anne at the end of the play. However, by allowing Anne to fold so quickly to Windoll’s wooing, Heywood calls into question the effectiveness of such a marriage.

 

Heywood shows how the aristocratic view of marriage is little else than maintenance of high birth and wealth. Although these marriages are carefully planned, they lack the element of emotion and love. He counters this highborn idea of marriage by giving some insight into the lives of some of the servants. The servants are not bound by the rules of affection that plague the aristocracy and Heywood portrays them as being better for it.  Although he calls into question the effectiveness of marriage, Heywood still maintains a chauvinistic view of women. Throughout the play the women are at the mercy of the whims of the men.

 

Had Whatley been asked why Frankford’s marriage failed, he may have found himself in an awkward position. He would most likely have the strong instinct to place the full blame on Anne but he would be forced to bring Frankford into the picture as well. Anne does not violate any of the rules set forth by Whatley defining the role of the wife (except, possibly, for being discontented). It is Frankford who seems to violate Whatley’s rules. By passing his authority to Wendoll, Frankford effectively surrendered that which made him the head of the relationship. Because it is simply the wife’s task to be submissive, among other things, she cannot be faulted for her actions within the parameters of Whatley’s logic. She was still remaining obedient to her husband’s authority even if Wendoll was misusing it.

I am still debating about the morality (or legitimacy) of Anne’s actions. Frankford did leave the house and, essentially, allow Wendell to be the “head of house.” However, a husband’s duty is to be head of the house—“the keeping of his authority, and the using of it” are what the husband’s goals. (Whately) Frankford gave Wendell a position of authority—though (literally) not a position as Anne’s husband. Did women in the early modern period truly act as Whately described they should? Would a woman be so entirely submissive and obedient with a man, any man in a position such as Wendell (that is, the “head of house”), that she would commit adultery to please him? Surely Anne, who held so much promise at the beginning of Heywood’s play, would be able to maintain her strong character (or rather, what we as readers believe to be strong character—given the fact that we really are only aware of her goodness through the words of the men in the play, rather than Anne’s actions). But this woman, who was such a perfect vision of what a wife should be, committed adultery against her husband. Again, I am still torn as to whether this action was understandable, given Wendell’s position of authority over her, or whether her actions reveal that even near-perfect women cannot resist temptation.

To trust, or not to trust

Although Frankford was not as "sterne" as Whately would have expected, he was not the reason behind the downfall of his marriage. He gave both Anne and Wendell the most sacred value in friendship and marriage alike, trust. Can one blame him for trusting his wife and a man he believed to be a friend? Frankford is not to blame. Look to Anne and Wendoll's misjudgement and temptations. What is funny to me is the way Whately describes the woman's role, it's true that for that particular time that was what was expected, but it's all weakness. Anne is weak in "A Woman Killed with Kindness." She disobeyed her husband and surrendered to another mans proposition; weakness with no ability to control her own actions, for she probably never had the chance to.

Anne probably really was devastated when Frankford discovered her and Wendell in bed together, but so was Frankford. He says: "For I am most ashamed, and 'tis more hard for me to look upon thy gulity face than the sun's clear brow" (Scene 13, Lines 87-89). They are both human beings involved in a marriage, not a governmental run institution, as Whately seems to make marriage out to be.

Love and Marriage

“Love and marriage, love and marriage, go together like a horse and carriage, this I tell you brother, you can’t have one without the other.” Originally sung by the McGuire sisters, this song is still recognizable thanks to the popular television series “Married with Children”. Through this popular sitcom millions of Americans watched a dysfunctional family work its problems out in a 30 minute time slot. Its theme song proclaims that love and marriage are intertwined and a proper marriage cannot exist without love. However, Whately’s overview of a proper marriage contradicts the song completely. A husband is innately superior and must use this authority to control his wife, a woman who is supposed to be meek, quiet and submissive. In Thomas Heywood’s A Woman killed with Kindness, the husband, Master John, does just the opposite. He is deeply in love with his wife and very kind to her, and while she is not exactly the quiet and submissive type, their marriage seems to work just fine. Yet when he allows a friend, Master Wendoll, to stay within his household his marriage falls apart. His foolish mistake ultimately leads to his wife’s infidelity.
Heywood’s play leads the reader to believe that bridegrooms of the play are foolish for following their hearts completely without using their dominating abilities. They are to be stern and strong, yet both characters don’t use their authority at all, causing both women to turn away from them. Heywood seems to be insinuating that a man must control his wife or else have the tables turned, with the wife calling the shots and making the choice of whether or not to be faithful. Both Frankford and Acton used love as the basis of their happiness in marriage, and this is something Whatley would not have wanted and goes against his teachings. Maybe they should have followed his advice.
--On Behalf of Kim

Obviously Opaque

It seems to me, the main intent behind Heywood's play is that of satire and critique, not only of the aristocracy, but of their views on marriage and love as well.  Whereas the tale of love between the servants is told quite candidly, and in only a couple scenes, the love affairs of the aristocrats is voluminous and superfluous, and a sharp comparison is drawn between the two.  In scene II, the servants are dancing and jovially enjoying each other's company, even when Sisly wished to dance with Nicholas instead of Slime, whom she was assigned by the ringleader, Jenkins.  Their relations are open and obvious, they don't feel the theatrical nature necessary.  On the other hand, a sly look or a quick word seems to be enough to drive the rich to suicide.  Perhaps this was purposeful on Heywoods part.  What better way to illuminate the theatrical farce of bourgeois inter-relations, than to represent it through theatre, where most of the "privileged" individuals in attendance were, in fact, part of the aristocracy.  He costumes the entire occurrence in a veil of tragedy, and triumphantly places in front of his audience to bear witness.  To me, this seems like one prodigiously brilliant, and earnest, satire by Heywood against not only the culture and nature of the upper class, of which I would include Whatley's treatise, but against his own audience whom stand right before him.

Delegate Educate Discriminate Eviscerate

In this play the aristocrats and the servants seem like two separate species of humans. To me, the servants are the smarter of the two parties. They have good times, and the women and men communicate freely in a much more equal manner than the aristocrats. To adress the question of why did Frankford's marriage break up and what are the implications of it I am unsure. Frankford's marriage broke up because his wife cheated on him. To me, a product of my time and culture, Frankford was using his authority appropriately. Part of having authority is delegating. He delegated some authority to Wendoll when he left. To me, he was just being confident in his marriage and confident in his wife's love of him. This seems reasonable and how a woman would want to be treated. However, his delegation leads to infidelity. Now, I am no good with relationships, these things are not just problems of the past so I would like to learn from this. Let's not play the blame game and spend times pointing fingers. Rather, let's try to be positive. I take the view that Heywood thinks the aristocratic vesion of marriage is foolish. If Anne cheated on Frankford because he gave authority over that makes me sad, and maybe that is Heywood's way to point out how silly of a way to be married that is. Another way Heywood negates Whately's view is his ability to write the servants. They are the ones without the problems, they are the ones who have the good times, and they are the ones who first see the signs of infidelity. Heywood writes them as such. In other words they see truth, the better way to live.

"Acton" Like a Fool (sorry)

I would have to disagree that Heywood outright refutes Whately's views on marriage. He calls them into question, certainly, but ultimately I think he finds common ground with Whately.
Take Acton and Susan's eventual nuptials, for instance. The moment Acton sees Susan he immediately disregards his "male" role as authority figure, instead falling head over heels in love: "I am enchanted," he says, " all my spirits are fled, and with one glace my envious spleen struck dead. (7. 93-94)" Acton, despite all of his fiery fury just moments prior, now seems to embody more Whately's "wifely" role, "favoring all lowlinesse and quietnesse of affection."
Susan, likewise, at first adopts the "husband" role, rejecting Acton's affections with a stern "Acton! Oh God, that name I am born to curse...See, I spurn his gold. (9. 52-54)" At this point, of course, Susan does not suspect marriage as Acton's attention, but rather a more base deflowering. At this point as well, Whately would be shocked to even consider a marriage between such figures, a "deformed family" would surely result. That Sir Francis is so adamant about his love and intentions for Susan certainly calls into question Whately's views; Heywood is saying that, gender roles be damned, Francis will marry her. And yet, the second marriage is actually proposed, Susan's attitude changes: "I will yield to fate, and learn to love where I till now did hate. (15. 147-8)"
By the end of the play, Frankford and Anne, who initially seem to embody Whately's proscriptions, have fallen apart, while the horribly mismatched Sir Francis and Susan are (admittedly tenuously) engaged and determined to make their marriage work. Nonetheless, in order to marry, Francis and Anne are forced to adopt at least somewhat Whately's roles. Though Heywood does not believe that Whately's rules necessarily make for a good marriage, he believes that some semblance of them must exist for one to work.
The most vivid depiction of marriage of this time that I can think of comes from Katherine's monologue at the end of Taming of the Shrew. She talks about a woman's wifely duties towards her husband, who is a ruler over her just as is a king over his subjects: "thy lord, thy king, thy governor...The husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper," (5.2.151). Heywood keeps to this tradition, but he throws a loop into the proceedings: with Anne's "king" gone, a substitute has been nominated in his place. Anyone standing in for a king would have full political rights and responsibilities, so it does not seem such a stretch to assume that a temporary husband would have full marital rights.
The problem is that, rather than protecting his authority, as Whateley assures is necessary, Frankford turns his authority over to another man, thus creating the vehicle for the problem Heywood has constructed. By giving Wendoll legitimate authority, Frankford eliminates his own, as is evident by the lack of regard that Wendoll and Anne show by immediately taking to their bed upon Frankford's departure. Had Frankford taken his authority with him, rather than bestowing it on an undeserving friend, the adultery might have been prevented and certainly would have appeared less legitimate and more of a crime against Frankford, in the eyes of Whateley.

And You Call this Marriage?

When thinking about if Heywood is upholding the basic principle and theology of marriage, I would have to say yes. According to Whatley, women are supposed to be “meeke, quiet, submissive,” but in “A Woman Killed with Kindness,” Anne does not follow these ideals when she betrays her husband for another man (30). Interestingly enough, when Anne is being flattered in the opening scene of the play, she comments on how her husband and brother should find “a fitter theme” than her many accomplishments (Heywood sc. 1, line 29). Although this might indicate that Anne is following the set criteria to play her role as a wife, but she does not conform to the entirety of what Whatley considers a good marriage.
Furthermore, Frankford does not keep his place as head of the house. He creates a trap to ensnare the treachery of his wife, and in doing so, gives his command to Wendoll to take his place as the head of the household. Whatley says that this creates a “deformed family” (19). Heywood proves this to be true when he makes Frankford’s character create a semblance of what one could call the “Trojan Horse” effect when he sets a trap for his wife, finds that she does betray him, and then takes away her rights as a mother and wife. This deformity, as Whatley would call it, signifies that Heywood conveys the very essence of what a marriage (in theology) would be which is to say that the wife is supposed to be completely submissive in all things and that the husband should take the lead. When these things are nonexistent, the marriage becomes a tragedy.

Heywood Exposes the Flaws of Whately

The Whately’s A Bride-Bush offers interesting insight into Frankford’s curious friendship with Wendoll. After the wedding, Frankford voices his contentment with his new marriage. He recounts his life’s blessings: high birth, wealth, well-educated, “but the chief / Of all the sweet felicities on earth, / I have a fair, chaste, and loving wife, / Perfection all, all truth, all ornament” (A Woman Killed iv.9-12). Frankford isn’t praising the joys of a new life partner, but listing his marriage under his life accomplishments.

This view of marriage corresponds with Whately’s marriage manual, which states that wives must “carry the stamp of fear upon them, and not be cutted, sharpe, sullen, passionate, teechie; but meeke, quiet, submissive” (38). This is clearly not the marriage based on companionship we think of today, but rather a marriage of ownership.

With standards like these, it’s only logical that a lonely aristocrat would look to an equal, another male aristocrat, for true companionship rather than his wife, a subordinate, who might as well be a ‘child or servant.’ And we all know how dull children and servants can be.


It is this imbalance in the relationship that causes Frankford to invite Wendoll into their home, which ultimately leads to dissolution of their marriage. In this way, Heywood subtly attacks Whately’s views on marriage, illustrating how a marriage based on possession and submission rather than companionship is mortally wounded from the start.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Authority Rules

Whately could possibly blame Master Frankford for the disruption in his marriage because of his inability to uphold his "special duties" as a husband.  Whately calls for husbands to both "keep" their authority and "use" it.  Master Frankford does neither.

By taking Wendoll into the home and putting him in charge, Frankford gives his authority as husband away.  The result, of course, is that he is no longer able to use his authority affectively.  By Whately's standards, Frankford surrenders himself and therefore, sets his marriage up for disaster.

Heywood seems to be making an attempt to show what happens when couples ignore traditional marriage standards of authority.  The marriage crumbles under the Frankfords' feet because proper authority is not maintained.  Heywood appears to be saying that a couple must adhere to a plilosophy similar to that of Whately's in order for marriage to run smoothly.

Blog 2: Love and Marriage?

The Arnolfini Marriage, Jan van Eyck, 1434

In last week’s blog we discussed Galatea’s representation of love: at once an affliction and a force of radical liberation and possibility. As we move from a boy’s company’s command performance to domestic tragedy, and from the pseudo-classical dreamworld of the Lincolnshire coast to a less fanciful picture of private life, it's worth wondering what Heywood is telling us about the realities of love once the romance is over and marriage begins.

The Marriage of Convenience, Sir William Quiller Orchardson, 1883

For this blog, we will be looking at William Whately’s treatise on marriage (1617) a typical example of the conduct literature (e.g.: marital advice manuals) from the early modern period.



The following excerpt presents advice to men on the duties of husbands:

“Now for the husbands speciall duties, he may fitly be referred to these two heads: The keeping of his authority, and the using of it. First, he must keep his authority, and maintaine himselfe in that place, wherein his Maker hath set him. Nature hath framed the lineaments of his body to superiority, & set the print of government in his face, which is more sterne, lesse delicate then the womans. He must not suffer this order of nature to be inverted. The Lord in his Word calls him the head; hee must not stand lower than the shoulders; if he doe, that is a deformed family.” (18-19)

In this next excerpt Whately addresses women and their role as wives:

“First, in speeches and gestures unto him. These must carry the stamp of fear upon them, and not be cutted, sharpe, sullen, passionate, teechie; but meeke, quiet, submissive, which may shew that she considers who herselfe is, to whom she speaks. The wives tongue towards her husband must bee neither keene, not loose, her countenance neither swelling nor deriding: her behaviour not flinging, not puffing, not discontented, but favouring of all lowlinesse and quietnesse of affection. Looke what kinde of words or behaviour thou wouldst dislike from thy servant or childe, those must thou not give to thine husbande: for thou art equally commanded to be subject.” (38)

Larger excerpts from Whately's text are available through the Folger Shakespeare Library site.

In light of Whately’s dicta, what are we left to think about the brides and bridegrooms in Heywood’s play? How might Whately account for the failure of the Frankfords’ marriage? Who or what is to blame? How does Frankford’s kindness, or Acton’s love at first sight, map onto Whately’s construction of holy matrimony?

Questions to consider: is Heywood refuting or upholding the Protestant theology of marriage? How do his representations of the serving class, the aristocracy, male-male friendship, and women, complicate a homiletic reading of his play?


Montreal street performer acting like a statue on a pedestal 

 Title page from The deceyte of women, to the instruction and ensample of all men yonge and olde, newly corrected. 1557

The image is of Aristotle being ridden (like an ass) by the courtesan Phyllis. 

From a site on Misericords and choir stall carvings (who knew you could find such a thing?) I have taken the following account: In one of the best-known tales of the thirteenth century, Aristotle's efforts to disengage the infatuated King (Alexander the Great) from a beautiful courtesan conclude with Aristotle himself falling prey to her seductive charm. She promises to indulge his urgent desire, if he will first indulge hers. Eagerly, he agrees, unaware that the foxy lady had arranged for Alexander to witness the humiliating ride in the garden.