|
|
  
First Things
Opinion:
The Myth of Soulless Women
Michael Nolan
Copyright (c) 1997 First
Things 72 (April 1997): 13-14.
Josh Billings remarked profoundly that "the trouble with people is not
that they don't know but that they know so much as ain't so." There are
those who know John Chrysostom said that "the image of God is not found
in Woman." (Actually, he said that "the image of God is not found in Man
or Woman.") There are those who know that Thomas Aquinas said that a
woman is a defective male. (Actually, he explicitly denies this no fewer
than five times.) There are those who know that Aristotle said that a
woman is a deficient male-a description based on an appalling
mistranslation.
And there are those who know that an early council of bishops, held at
Macon in Burgundy, France in a.d. 585 decreed that women do not have a
soul. The bishops of course decreed no such thing, for if women do not
have a soul how could they be baptized, how receive the Eucharist, how
be venerated as martyrs in heaven? Yet it may be worthwhile to look at
the story of this alleged decree, for one can see a myth in the
making.
The story begins, innocently enough, in the late sixteenth century. A
young scholar, Valentius Acidalius, was working as a teacher in Silesia,
and, like many young scholars, he was short of money. He thought to turn
an honest penny by publishing a "diverting" pamphlet. In Latin the word
homo, like the word man in English, primarily means "a
human being, male or female, young or old," but has the secondary
meaning of "adult male." Valentius thought it would be fun to use this
ambiguity to "show" that in the Bible only adult males have souls. If he
thought the pamphlet would amuse, he was grievously wrong. Simon
Geddicus, a Lutheran scholar, launched a mighty counter-pamphlet
entitled A Defense of the Female Sex, in which he proposed
"manfully" (he actually uses the word viriliter) to "destroy
each and every one of the arguments put forward by Valentius," who, the
reader will learn with regret or satisfaction as the case may be, took a
seizure and died.
The pamphlet, however, often bound with the refutation by Simon
Geddicus, survived, and it appears that it was published at Lyons in
France in 1647. It was now in Italian, and was entitled Women do not
have a soul and do not belong to the human race, as is shown by many
passages of Holy Scripture. One gathers from a commentator that
"the ladies of Italy took this system very differently. Some were vexed
to have no souls. Others were pretty indifferent about the matter, and
looking on themselves as mere machines, hoped to set their springs so
well agoing as to make the men stark mad." Not all the ladies were
silent, and the splendidly named Archangela Tarabotti wrote A
Defense of Women. One way or another, the offending book caught the
attention of Pope Innocent X, who put it on the Index of Prohibited
Books (Decree of June 18, 1651). So much for the allegation that the
Church holds that women do not have souls.
But the suggestion that women do not have souls was obviously in the
air. It apparently came to the ears of Johannes Leyser, a Lutheran
pastor from the region of Frankfurt in Germany, for he took up the idea
and then sought confirmation for it in the doings of the Council of
Macon, a small council of some forty-three bishops held in Burgundy in
the year 585. Leyser had become a chaplain in the Danish army. The
excitements, and no doubt opportunities, of military life seem to have
sharpened his zest for feminine variety, for in 1676 he published a
volume called The Triumph of Polygamy, in which he proclaimed
the merits of a plurality of wives. Seeking support for his view that
women are inferior, he decided to misquote the decrees of the Council of
Macon. Leyser wrote: "Among the holy fathers [at the Council] there was
one who insisted that women cannot, and should not, be called 'human
beings' (homines). The matter was thought so important that it
was discussed publicly and in the fear of God. Finally, after many
arguments on this question, [the bishops] concluded that women are human
after all."
Now this is wholly untrue. The acts of the Council of Macon contain no
such discussion. They contain neither the word "woman" nor the word
"soul." What Leyser did was to misinterpret a story told in The
History of the Franks by St. Gregory of Tours. Gregory was bishop
of that city in the sixth century and wrote a splendid history of the
region. At one point he tells of a council that may, or may not, have
been the Council of Macon. Gregory writes:
There came forward at this Council a certain bishop who maintained that
woman could not be included under the term "man." However, he accepted
the reasoning of the other bishops and did not press his case for the
holy book of the Old Testament tells us that in the beginning, when God
created man, "Male and female he created them and called their name
Adam," which means earthly man; even so, he called the woman Eve, yet of
both he used the word "man."
So what the bishops discussed was the meaning of a word, not the
substantial issue of whether women have souls.
Leyser was inventing stories. His untruths were taken up by Pierre
Bayle, a Dutch Calvinist with a marked distaste for the Catholicism to
which he had once adhered. Bayle brought the matter further by writing
in his Dictionnaire: "What I think yet more strange is to find
that in a Council it has been gravely proposed as a question whether
women were human creatures, and that it was determined affirmatively
[only] after a long debate." Early in the nineteenth century a certain
M. Aime-Martin wrote a touching book on The Education of
Mothers in which he recorded sorrowfully that "people had gone so
far as to doubt the existence of their souls." Politicians, as is their
way, saw an opportunity, and the French National Assembly, no less,
deplored the Church's insult to women. Later still the myth appeared in
English in a journal titled John Bull, published by Horatio
Bottomley, a fraudster Member of the British Parliament who would soon
end in jail.
The myth was by now securely established, and will no doubt be retailed
as confidently in the future as it has been in the past. If the first
casualty of war is the unwelcome truth, the first weapon of the
discontented is the welcome lie.
Michael Nolan is Professor Emeritus in the Maurice Kennedy Research
Center at University College, Dublin.
Email this to a friend
copyright
© 1995-2008
Leadership U. All rights reserved.
Updated: 13 July 2002
|