Over the semester, my research has been on Female Shaming Rituals in the public and private sphere, and how it’s portrayed in The Taming of the Shrew. I was fascinated by the presentation on Female Shaming Rituals and wanted to focus on that for my research.
Female Shaming Rituals in Early Modern England
Becker, Lucinda. Death and the Early Modern Englishwoman. 1. Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing Company, 2003. 143. Print.
Boose, Lynda. “Scolding Brides and Bridling Scolds: Taming the Woman’s Unruly Member..” Shakespeare Quarterly, 42.2 (1991): 179-213. Print.
Detmer, Emily. “Civilizing Subordination: Domestic Violence and The Taming of the Shrew.” Shakespeare Quarterly, 48.3 (1997): 273-294. Print.
Dolan, Frances. “‘Gentlemen, I Have One Thing More to Say’: Women on Scaffolds in England, 1563-1680.” Modern Philosoph,. 92.2 (1994): 157-178. Print.
Schneider, Gary. “The Public, the Private, and the Shaming of the Shrew.” Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900, 42.2 (2002): 235-258. Print.
This play shows example after example of female shaming and submission. An unconventional, opinionated woman is “put in her place” by the men in her life so that they’ll be seen with more respect. This is not a love story; it’s a story of power and oppression.
![Lavinia, Titus’ only daughter, is one of the saddest female characters I’ve ever encountered while reading Shakespeare. She’s brutally raped and tortured, has her tongue cut out, and is rendered mute. As a woman, she’s completely robbed of agency and chastity. The performances of this role on stage touch on the art of pantomiming, since she is unable to speak or communicate in a conventional way. Instead of Lavinia getting revenge, Titus takes the two men who raped her [Tamora’s sons] and bakes them in a pie for Tamora to eat. However, he does this out of his own selfish revenge. Then, he kills Lavinia. Not only does she not get her revenge, she’s killed by her father. Shakespeare’s treatment of her is relentless and despicable.](http://11.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kugzupK07J1qa10kgo1_400.jpg)
Lavinia, Titus’ only daughter, is one of the saddest female characters I’ve ever encountered while reading Shakespeare. She’s brutally raped and tortured, has her tongue cut out, and is rendered mute. As a woman, she’s completely robbed of agency and chastity. The performances of this role on stage touch on the art of pantomiming, since she is unable to speak or communicate in a conventional way.
Instead of Lavinia getting revenge, Titus takes the two men who raped her [Tamora’s sons] and bakes them in a pie for Tamora to eat. However, he does this out of his own selfish revenge. Then, he kills Lavinia. Not only does she not get her revenge, she’s killed by her father. Shakespeare’s treatment of her is relentless and despicable.
Carting was another way to humiliate and shame a woman who was suspected of being a prostitute or acting in an unladylike manner. A large, jeering, oppressive crowd would follow the cart and shout insults, play “rough” music, and make the woman feel like less than a human. The entire point of this punishment was to make the woman feel complete, utter shame for how she lives her life and how she acts.
Kate’s agency and voice vs. Petruchio’s relentlessness in his taming and shaming of her.
Titus Andronicus is Shakespeare’s earliest tragedy. In comparison to his other plays, it’s incredibly immature and horrifically violent. General Titus Andronicus is fighting against the Goths, lead by Tamora. Acts of revenge and violence abound in this tale of revenge, rape, murder, and cannibalism. Unspeakable acts are performed on people in the name of revenge, power, and hatred.
This play, when performed at the time, was a great success due to the audience who was watching it. They wanted to see violence and gore; they wanted to see rape, torture, and cannibalism. As time went on, the play became less popular as the audiences became a bit more refined and less accepting of such gore.
Scaffold speeches were allowed to women who were about to be executed. They were placed on a scaffold, which was a sort of stage, and were given a few minutes to say their last words. Even though it gave the women agency and a voice, it still served as a shaming ritual. The women were forced to confess their trespasses to the audience witnessing their death. The women were made examples of, even though that didn’t seem to work.
Ducking Stools were another instrument of torture and correction for shrewish women. This was another way of publicly humiliating them by dunking them into ponds, rivers, or other bodies of water. Again, these were used on women who were loud, opinionated, and contradicting to their husbands. It was also used on women who were suspected of being witches.
This is Sir Laurence Olivier performing Richard III’s opening soliliquy in the 1955 film version of the play.
We started reading Richard III today. I’ve never read a historical Shakespeare play before; I’m not sure what to expect.
My first impressions are good, though. I like the language and the concept of the play. It describes Richard’s sudden rise to power and monstrosity, which prove to be somewhat fascinating to me. His disability, or “rudely stamp’d” figure could also be a symbol for his “rudely stamp’d” morality. He is a self-proclaimed villain, much like Iago from Othello. Both Iago and Richard III have a good number of asides and soliliquys to inform the audience of their intentions.
I look forward to reading my first Shakespeare historical play. This one has gotten a lot of acclaim and has been performed by incredibly talented actors.
The ending of Twelfth Night is rather unexpected. The identities are revealed and the couples are paired off in a heterosexual manner. This is obviously unexpected since, throughout the play, there were homosexual and gender-ambiguous situations. The ending shows that Shakespeare might have been trying to appease the audience at the time by showing them the “proper” situation. The ambiguity throughout the play suggests that the ending might be ambiguous, as well. It isn’t.
Shakespeare’s comedies, along with his other genres, are incredibly formulaic. As respected and well-written as they are, the comedies end in a marriage or banquet and the tragedies end in bloodbaths. Twelfth Night doesn’t stray from this expectation.
