Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Lady Murasaki Shikibu: Did she write the world's first novel or what?

The next two posts are about Heian Era Japan. For context on the Heian Era, I leave you in the capable hands of acclaimed novelist John Green:

Here’s the skinny on the Heian Era in case you didn’t watch the video (which you should): The Heian period spanned from 794-1185 CE and is sometimes called Japan’s “Classical Age” – meaning that it was a period of great cultural achievements that helped lay the groundwork for later Japanese culture. As John Green mentions in the video, it was not a period with a super strong political or economic system, but it was stable enough for the elites to have ample leisure time to take the culture of the Tang Dynasty (remember them from last week?) and run with it until they came up with something thoroughly Japanese. 
Notably, for my purposes, elite women of the Heian Era left behind louder voices than many other women of pre-modern times in part because elite Heian women could write, meaning they left behind diaries, as well as sentimental works of literature. While it would be a mistake to say that Heian women were powerful, or even equal to men, it is true that elite women in Heian Japan were more valued and had more rights than their contemporaries elsewhere. They’d had even better position prior to the Heian Era, but the arrival of Chinese culture eroded their status. (A similar process took place amongst the once powerful elite women of Vietnam.)

Murasaki Shikibu and Her Novel
In earlier periods of history, poetry was the only serious literary pursuit and novels were pretty much relegated to “cheap trash.” Early novels were something of a “women’s” genre – a way that literate elite women kept themselves entertained. The Tale of Genji is one such example of women telling stories to entertain themselves. 
Murasaki Shikibu is a nom de plume or nickname: we don’t know her real name, as it was not considered important to record the name of a daughter. We also don’t know terribly much about her life despite the portions of a diary and the vivid novel that she left behind. We do know that she lived in the late Heian Period (c. 978-1014) and that she was a member of the ruling Fujiwara clan. She was married, and had a daughter, but she was widowed after only two years of marriage. 
After the death of her husband, Murasaki Shikibu was summoned to court. The reason is not known for sure, but historians speculate that her literary talents made her an ideal Lady in Waiting for the Empress and her job was probably to keep the Empress and other ladies entertained with her stories.
It is unknown how long it took Murasaki Shikibu to write her 54-chapter epic, chronicling the courtly intrigues and love affairs of Prince Genji. Her story has endured not only as an entertaining piece of literature, but also as a peek inside the minds of the Heian Elite. Although Genji’s adventures are fictional, the narrative shows us the social milieu of the late Heian Court, while also demonstrating the important aesthetic principles of the time. 
Tune in next week for another Heian Babe: Sei Shonogan and her Pillowbook. 

Heian Japan: An Introductory Essay.  This is a great intro to the Heian Period. Unfortunately, sometimes the server gets cranky and it won’t load.

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Empress Wu Zetian: Dragon Lady or Benevolent Leader?

Here are two depictions of Empress Wu Zetian, neither created during her lifetime:


These two likenesses of the only woman who ruled China outright (instead of from behind a puppet) epitomize the historical debate that has shrouded her for centuries. She could have been a ruthless dragon lady who even Cersei Lannister would find off putting – OR, she could have been suffering the same plight as female leaders of today: rampant double standard. 


Wu’s path to power was – shall we say – murky. Not much is known for certain about her early life but she came to be a part of the Tang Imperial court as a concubine to the Taizong Emperor. She didn’t have any children with him and he may not have found her especially interesting compared to his other consorts. However, there is speculation that she had an affair with one of the Taizong Emperor’s son’s – Li Zhi – while the old man was still kicking.
After the Taizong Emperor’s death, Li Zhi (Wu’s Boo) succeeded him as the Gaozong Emperor. Wu, but this point, had been bundled off to a Buddhist convent where, as tradition dictated, she was supposed to live out her days as a chaste nun – but Wu wasn’t much for tradition, so she made her way back to the Tang court where the newly-minted emperor made her one of his concubines. 
Here, the details get murky again. There was clearly (as one would expect) competition among the Emperor’s women over his favor and influence at court. The most toxic of these rivalries was between Wu (then Consort Wu) and the Empress Consort Wang.
As far as my understanding goes, the Empress was sort of like the Emperor’s wife and was the only woman in the harem who had any real status unless the Emperor’s mother, aka Empress Dowager, was still kicking. Concubines – who had a ranking system unto themselves – we sort of like secondary wives whose only official roles were to make babies and please the Emperor. Any children of concubines were legitimate issue of the Emperor - a nice insurance policy in case the Empress was infertile, and something that certain European kings with lots of bastards and no legitimate heirs might have benefited from.
Following this logic, Wang had more status than Wu, but the Emperor seemed to have liked Wu more. Wang had no children, while other concubines – Wu included – did, leading to a further point of contention. This rivalry came to a head with the death of Wu’s infant daughter. Wu blamed the infant’s death on Wang, leading some to believe that Wu might have killed her own baby to make Wang look bad. Some conceded that maybe Wang did kill the kid due to jealousy, while still others suggest that the baby could have died due to carbon monoxide poisoning since the Tang court burned coal for heat and lacked proper ventilation systems. We will never know. But what we do know is that the infant’s death resulted in Wang’s dismissal and Wu’s ascension as the new Sheriff in town – i.e. she was now Empress Consort. 
Further machinations may have ensued and after the death of the Gaozong Emperor, Wu acted as regent to her sons (possibly favoring an easier to manipulate one) and ruled in the fashion more common for women – guiding the actions of her young, impressionable son – before seizing power in her own right, something unprecedented, and indeed, unrepeated, in Chinese history. 
The anomalous way in which she came to power, may account somewhat for how she was traditionally viewed in Chinese historiography. As Mike Dash phrased it in his blog post for Smithsonian Magazine,“…imperial history was written to provide lessons for future rulers, and as such tended to be weighted heavily against usurpers (which Wu was) and anyone who offended the Confucian sensibilities of the scholars who labored over them (which Wu did simply by being a woman).”
 But, with the distance of several centuries, some historians are re-evaluating Wu’s contribution, suggesting that she may have protected and fostered certain developments that made the Tang Dynasty a Golden Age. 
Wu was Empress fairly early in the Tang Dynasty which lasted from 618-906 CE. Wu ruled unofficially from 683-690 as regent, and held power officially until she “retired” a few months before her death in 705, and some of the hallmarks of the Tang Dynasty were certainly in place during Wu’s time, if not implemented by Wu herself. The Tang Dynasty was an internationalist, cosmopolitan, cultural giant and regional superpower enriched by the Silk Road trade that passed through the capital of Chang’an. As merchants are wont to do, they brought not only goods, but also ideas. Chang’an was said to have Buddhist and Taoist temples, Christian Churches, and Mosques. Buddhism in particular became a popular religion in Tang China – spreading from there to Korea and Japan – something that Wu may have also had a hand in, given her support of the religion. (Another reason she would be in the Historical Dog House since some Confucians viewed Buddhism as a “barbarian” religion that by Confucian standards encouraged “selfishness.”) 


Wu also supported certain aspects of Confucianism – such as by implementing the famous meritocratic civil service exam system. (Unlike in the United States, bureaucrats were the elite, not reviled bean counters.) She also extended Confucian mourning rites to be applied to one’s mother, as well as one’s father. 
It is debatable how much Wu herself had to do with it, but the Tang Dynasty was a relatively good time to be an elite woman in China. Funerary objects (see video) suggest that women could engage in most of the same activities as men at the time, and were not as restricted in their social movements or styles of dress as they would be in later dynasties. (No footbinding yet!) I personally suspect that the cosmopolitan outlook of the empire as a whole, and the prominence of Buddhism over Confucianism were much more responsible for the relative freedoms of women during this period, than any edicts that Empress Wu made. 


So, yes, Wu may have murdered her children, knocked off rivals, and had a sexual appetite – but, when weighed against her accomplishments, imagine how those behaviors might have been judged if she were male.
 Better yet, take the behaviors of kings – like Henry VIII and his six wives. How might he have been judged differently if he had been Henrietta who had six husbands, whom she regularly abandoned for younger, more attractive men, punished (sometimes with execution) for not giving her sufficiently gendered children, who probably contracted syphilis from said love affairs and passed it on to her husbands, who became obese, and in her 50s married a 19-year-old? Suffice to say, as much as we love to hate Henry VIII, we would probably hate Henrietta more. 
 
Sources:
I highly recommend Mike Dash’s post for Smithsonian Magazine: The Demonization of Empress Wu
Old Faithful: Wikipedia
The Met Museum: Tang Dynasty
Although I did not personally read it for this post, if you are interested in this period, you may want to check out China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty by Mark Edward Lewis

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Empress Theodora of Byzantium

Depending on when you last learned about the history of the Roman Empire, you may have learned that the Roman Empire collapsed in 400-something at the hands of the Barbarians at the Gates. Or, you might have learned that the Barbarians at the Gates only succeeded in destroying the Western half of the Roman Empire, plunging Western Europe into the Dark Ages while the Eastern half of the empire went on kicking until the walls of Constantinople (now Istanbul) fell to Ottoman cannons in 1453.
Whatever the case, the people we call the Byzantines thought of themselves as Roman, although their Empire featured some key differences from the traditional Roman Empire. Number one: they spoke Greek, not Latin. Number two: the paganism of the Old Empire was dead and the religion of Byzantium was Christianity.
Much like its progenitor, the Byzantine Empire was highly patriarchal but in the 6th century, the Byzantine world was rocked by one historical babe: a woman who the contemporary historian Procopius sometimes called “Theodora from the Brothel.”
Theodora was probably born around 500 CE and was raised in Constantinople’s Hippodrome as part of a family of entertainers. As a teenager, she was a renowned burlesque dancer and prostitute, who probably had at least one child out of wedlock, and possibly a few abortions. Her scandalous past would be used by some (such as the aforementioned Procopius) to defame and discredit her accomplishments later on. At 18, tired of life in the Hippodrome, Theodora took a trip to North Africa with her sugar daddy (the governor of Libya) but soon parted ways with him and joined an order of religious rebels known as the Monophysites (more about them later).
After returning to Constantinople from her sojourn in Africa, Theodora met and fell in love with the heir-apparent to the Emperor, Justinian – who himself had a rather squalid past as a peasant from Serbia. Justinian and Theodora had a rather unusual relationship for their day, most sources seeming to show that they regarded each other as confidants and intellectual equals rather than just lovers. Justinian expressed interest in marrying Theodora, but it was illegal for a patrician like him to marry an actress scumbag like her. So, Justinian took up the issue with his doting Uncle Justin, then the Emperor.
Initially, Justinian’s hopes of having the law changed were dashed by his aunt, the Empress Euphemia, who herself had once been a prostitute and didn’t like the idea of some other former prostitute sullying her position. (Mm. Dat post-classical cat fight.) After Euphemia’s death, Emperor Justin yielded to Justinian’s wishes, and changed the law so that Theodora (and other reformed actresses) could marry. After Justin died, Justinian ascended to the throne and Theodora played a more active role in helping him rule than was customary for Byzantine Empresses.
Theodora lived before the Eastern Orthodox and Roman Catholic Churches split and before Islam arrived on the scene, but the Mediterranean of Theodora’s day was rife with a theological conflict of its own: mainly between Monophysite and Chalcedon Christians. Put simply, early Christians had a lot of debates to sort out amongst themselves, which resulted in many councils among the big wigs of the Church to decide what would be considered Orthodox and what would be considered heresy, and often as not, they couldn’t come up with an agreement that everyone was willing to live with. The dispute between the Monophysites and the rest of Christendom at the time was over the nature of Jesus Christ. Mainstream Christianity declared that he had two natures: one divine, the other human (with all sorts of hairs to split about how those two natures coexisted) while the Monophysites believed that Jesus had one nature that was purely divine. Even though they were persona non grata in the empire, Theodora was a devout Monophysite, while Justinian towed the party line. Their theological differences and the political implications of these differences never seemed to trouble their marriage. Theodora was an important friend to the Monophysites, and may have helped them survive. She even eroded Justinian in the end, and he converted to Monophysitism near the end of his life, long after his beloved wife had died.
Religion was not all that divided Byzantine society and even though Theodora left the Hippodrome behind her as a teenager, it continued to play an important role in Byzantine society, and therefore, in her reign. Think of the Hippodrome as a hybridization of circus, theatre, sports arena, and political forum. The Hippodrome was dominated by two main factions: the Blues, who represented Orthodoxy and the elite, and the Greens, who represented the people and Monophysites. Imagine that the Republicans and Democrats were football teams as well as political parties – or that the Giants and the Steelers helped run political campaigns – and you have some idea of how influential (and divisive) the Blues and the Greens were.
Theodora’s father had been a bear-keeper for the Greens, but after he died and Theodora’s mother remarried, the Greens refused to give Theodora’s step-father the job. Sensing an opportunity to enhance their image, the Blues gave him a job and Theodora’s loyalties switched. Needless to say, Justinian and Theodora showed blatant favoritism to the Blues until an inflammatory little incident in 532: The Nika Riot.
Justinian was obsessed with restoring the glories of the Roman Empire and though his campaigns of re-conquest were largely successful, they were also expensive. Expensive wars equals higher taxes – and no one in the history of the world has ever liked paying taxes. After a minor incident where a Blue and a Green slated for execution were miraculously saved by a collapsing scaffold and then were not pardoned by Justinian, the Blues and the Greens temporarily decided to agree on hating Justinian’s guts.
As a result, when Justinian showed his mug at a chariot race at the Hippodrome the Greens and Blues rioted, yelling, “Nika! Nika!” (Win! Win!) and proceeded to destroy much of Constantinople in the process. Justinian was ready to cut and run, but Theodora insisted on staying and facing the rebels, ultimately convincing Justinian to stay as well. He sent his generals to lock the rioters in the Hippodrome and slaughter – oh – 30,000 or so of them, perhaps as much as ten percent of the city’s population.
That quieted things down.
Despite the bloody legacy of the Nika Riot, there are also some positive changes associated with Justinian and Theodora’s rule, mainly in legal changes for women. Although the laws are in Justinian’s name, Theodora probably had a hand in putting them together – laws that closed brothels and sent prostitutes to live in convents, and punished pimps rather than prostitutes. Anti-rape legislation was passed to have incarcerated women kept in nunneries instead of in male-guarded prisons where they might be assaulted. Women’s property rights were expanded and widows could maintain the guardianship of their children if there was no suitable male guardian available. Men could no longer murder their adulterous wives, and laws were passed to help prevent female infanticide and abandonment of female children. Certainly, things were not all sunshine and roses for women in the empire after that, but it was a start.
Theodora died in 548 of cancer, having lived through a meteoric rise in social status and enjoying a short, but fairly successful political career.
What a babe.

Sources: