(But then again, neither does anybody else.)

Christine de Pizan was an Italian lady raised and educated in the courts of France who partied through 1399 and who supported herself by writing as a widow with three small children. She is one of my heroes.

Tonight I found my copy of The Book of the City of Ladies, which was written in 1405, first translated and published in English in 1521, and pretty much forgotten about until the 1980s.

The Book of the City of Ladies is a defense of women from unfair accusations, written from a well-read, temperate woman’s perspective. It is a delight to read. This is a passage from the introduction, where we find Christine trying to reconcile other (male) authors’ opinions of women with her own observations and experience.

And so I relied more on the judgement of others than on what I myself felt and knew. I was so transfixed in this line of thinking for such a long time that  it seemed as if I were in a stupor. Like a gushing fountain, a series of authorities, whom I recalled one after another, came to mind, along with their opinions on this topic. And I finally decided that God formed a vile creature when He made a woman, and I wondered how such a worthy artisan could have deigned to make such an abominable work which, from what they say, is the vessel as well as the refuge and abode of every evil and vice. As I was thinking this, a great unhappiness and sadness welled up in my heart, for I detested myself and the entire feminine sex, as though we were monstrosities in nature. And in my lament I spoke these words:

“Oh, God, how can this be? For unless I stray from my faith, I must never doubt that Your infinite wisdom and most perfect goodness ever created anything which was not good. Did You yourself not create woman in a very special way and since that time did You not give her all those inclinations which it pleased You for her to have? And how could it be that You could go wrong in anything? Yet look at all these accusations which have been judged, decided, and concluded against women. I do not know how to understand this repugnance. If it is so, fair Lord God, that in fact so many abominations abound in the female sex, for You Yourself say that the testimony of two or three witnesses lends credence, why shall I not doubt that this is true? Alas, God, why did You not let em be born in the world as a man, so that all my inclinations would be to serve You better, and so that I would not stray in anything and would be as perfect as a man is said to be? But since Your kindness has not been extended to me, then forgive my negligence in Your service, most fair Lord God, and may it not displease You, for the servant who receives fewer gifts from his lord is less obliged in his service.” I spoke these words to God in my lament and a great deal more for a very long time in sad reflection, and in my folly I considered myself most unfortunate because God had made me inhabit a female body in this world.

I love this passage because who among the thinking ladies hasn’t had these thoughts at one time or another? Sometimes men are so convinced that they themselves are so perfect and women are so evil and tempting that it really can make you doubt your Maker.

But Christine continues:

So occupied with these painful thoughts, my head bowed in shame, my eyes filled with tears, leaning on the pommel of my chair’s armrest, I suddenly saw a ray of light fall on my lap, as though it were the sun. I shuddered then, as if wakened from sleep, for I was sitting in a shadow where the sun could not have shone at that hour. And as I lifted my head to see where this light was coming from, I saw three crowned ladies standing before me, and the splendor of their bright faces shone on me and throughout the entire room. Now no one would ask whether I was surprised, for my doors were shut and they had still entered. Fearing that some phantom had come to tempt me and filled with great fright, I made the Sign of the Cross on my forehead.

Then she who was the first of the three smiled and began to speak, “Dear daughter, do not be afraid, for we have not come here to harm or trouble you but to console you, for we have taken pity on your distress, and we have come to bring you out of the ignorance which so blinds your own intellect that you shun what you know for a certainty and believe what you do not know or see or recognize except by virtue of many strange opinions. You resemble the fool in the prank who was dressed in women’s clothes while he slept; because those who were making fun of him repeatedly told him he was a woman, he believed their false testimony more readily than the certainty of his own identity. Fair daughter, have you lost all sense? Have you forgotten that when fine gold is tested in the furnace, it does not change or vary in strength but becomes purer the more it is hammered and handled in different ways? Do you not know that the best things are the most debated and the most discussed?

The ladies – Reason, Rectitude, and Justice – then go on to deliver to Christine arguments and examples of badass ladies through history, everyone from random unknown Saints to Minerva to Seneca’s wife Pompeia Paulina. All these ladies are, of course, citizens of the City.

I love how many medieval works of this period follow the “dream vision” format. I don’t believe that this work is one of them, because it’s more like a long-form conversation than a proper dream vision (like Piers Plowman, for example, where he literally falls asleep and dreams), but I love how non-modern writers were more imaginative with their writing.

The Book of the City of Ladies is a long-form conversation.