Oedipus and the Devil (review) Jenny jennyg@compuserve.com Tue Apr 6 15:05:35 1999 _Oedipus and the Devil: Witchcraft, Sexuality and Religion in Early Modern Europe_ by Lyndal Roper.*p**br*OatD is a collection of essays by social historian Lyndal Roper, concentrating on issues of gender and the body in early modern Europe. Several of these, as the title suggests, involve witchcraft directly or indirectly. I found them to be a mixed lot: a scattering of great ideas, interspersed amongst a lot of Freudian psychology and shocking statements. If you find psycho-analysis convincing, you may love this book. I don't, so I didn't.*p*Five of the essays touch on witchcraft:*p*1) "Was There a Crisis in Gender Relations in Sixteenth-Century Germany?" One of the lynch-pins of pop-feminist interpretations of the Burning Times is the belief that the 16th century saw a dramatic rise in misogyny, which is what triggered the witchcraft trials. Roper demonstrates that gender roles did indeed change dramatically during the Reformation, and that one could well argue it saw the beginnings of the modern patriarchal system. However she also correctly notes that these developments do not correlate to the witch trials at all: there's no evidence that a region's level of misogyny determined the intensity of its witch-hunting.*p*As a matter of fact, Roper has the courage to face one of the more challenging issues for feminist historians: women were active supporters of the Burning Times, not innocent victims. In the area she studied (Augsberg, Germany) Roper found that the majority of trials arose from conflicts between women, revolving around issues of maternity and household care. These were not male fantasies, inflicted on helpless and unwilling female victims. Instead, she suggests, one could actually say that the Burning Times were a period when male elites started to take women's fears seriously. Previously such fears were scorned and ignored. During the Burning Times, because of the theology of witchcraft, Church and State started to listen to "Old Wives' Tales".*p*2) "Stealing Manhood: Capitalism and Magic in Early Modern Germany." I thought this was one of the least successful articles. Roper examined the case of Anna Megerler, a wise woman accused of witchcraft. Megerler's defense was that she worked directly for one of the most powerful capitalist patriarchs of the town, Anton Fugger, and used her magick to help him control his pan-European economic empire. The town council cross-examined Megerler until it became clear that her story about Fugger would hold water. And then it dropped the charges like a hot potatoe, saying that pursuing the case would create too many "complications". Score one for friends in high places!*p*It's a fascinating case. However most of the essay is a general survey of some of the symbolic similarities between mages and early capitalists. I didn't find it terribly compelling. For me, the best part was learning more about early beliefs on crystal gazing. Far from being innocent tools to aid divination, crystal balls were believed to be capable of imprisoning souls, especially the souls of executed criminals. These spirits were what powered the items. *p*3) "Exorcism and the Theology of the Body" discussed how exorcism became a bone of contention between Catholics and Protestants. Again, most of the article concentrated on psychoanalytical issues which I didn't find persuasive. However there was more information on crystal gazing and an amusing side note: when rumors arose that there was going to be a witch's sabbat at Muhlhassen (in 1564) hundreds of tourists -- including prominent citizens -- flocked to the town to see!*p*4) "Oedipus and the Devil" addressed the strange, horrific case of Regina Bartholeme, executed for witchcraft in 1670. Regina was not originally imprisoned for witchcraft, but for threatening to murder her "boyfriend's" bride. Once imprisoned, she claimed -- apparently without any prompting -- that she had been seduced by the Devil. Gradually, over several bouts of questioning and torture, she confessed to being a witch.*p*Roper points out that the case had stunning Oedipal elements. For instance, the Devil is clearly related to her father, and there are suggestions that Regina was a victim of incest and/or rape (by her father's boss) when she was twelve. This abuse may even have driven her mad, for her case involves shocking acts of self-destruction.*p*Roper's purpose in examining this case is to show that some witchcraft trials can be explained by psychoanalysis. The problem is, this is a strange and unique case. Yes, there were some witches who were mentally unstable, and psychoanalysis might illuminate their trials: it certainly seems to do so in Regina's case. However I don't think this can be generalized -- most witches were *not* neurotic. *p*5) "Witchcraft and Fantasy in Early Modern Germany." This was the most daring essay. And, unfortunately, the most flawed.*p*Roper began with an excellent insight: witchcraft trials are dialogues. Male elites did not successfully force witches to regurgitate their demonic fantasies, as some authors suggest. Instead, the witch and her accusers traded different narratives, different accounts of what had happened. Each side gave on certain points, until eventually they reached a version of the story both sides accepted. Thus, Roper says, witchcraft confessions give us some insight into the beliefs of early modern women.*p*If you're like me, you read this and thought, "Um, hello? What about torture? This isn't your average conversation or negotiation -- one of the parties was being systematically dismembered throughout it!" Roper's answer to this problem is shocking: "Witches were women who could not feel pain as normal women could." Pain, to early modern people, was cleansing... a religious experience. They didn't see it the same way we do. *p*I can't believe this. Pain hurts. It hurts me. It hurts my cat. I'm sure it hurt early modern women, too. In fact, the first case that popped into my mind was the story of Johannes Junius (in the bio section of the Hall). Junius' trial record declared that he felt no pain from his torture. However he managed to smuggle a letter out of prison which made it clear that he had never felt such agony in all his life. His hands were crippled for days, and it was the pain that forced him to confess and accuse other witches.*p*Most witches didn't leave us letters, but I have NO doubt that they suffered every bit as much as Johannes Junius did. Therefore while it is illuminating to think of trials as negotiations (especially in cases where no torture was involved) this explanation fails, because it does not take into account the tremendous influence of torture. Roper ends up blaming the witch trials on pre-oedipal conflicts surrounding breast-feeding and mothering -- an explanation I just couldn't take seriously.*p*So, in summary, this book contained a couple useful insights and a bunch of interesting data. But I can't recommend it. I don't find psychoanalytical explanations of the Great Hunt convincing. Those who do might well love this book, for it is detailed and well-researched