<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?>
<!DOCTYPE article  PUBLIC "-//NLM//DTD JATS (Z39.96) Journal Archiving and Interchange DTD v1.1 20151215//EN" "https://jats.nlm.nih.gov/archiving/1.1/JATS-archivearticle1.dtd">
<article dtd-version="1.1" article-type="book-review">
    <front>
        <journal-meta>
            <journal-id>TMR</journal-id>
            <journal-title-group>
                <journal-title>The Medieval Review</journal-title>
            </journal-title-group>
            <issn pub-type="epub">1096-746X</issn>
            <publisher>
                <publisher-name>Indiana University</publisher-name>
            </publisher>
        </journal-meta>
        <article-meta>
            <article-id pub-id-type="publisher-id">21.10.05</article-id>
            <title-group>
                <article-title>21.10.05, Potter, The Unruly Womb in Early Modern English Drama</article-title>
            </title-group>
            <contrib-group>
                <contrib contrib-type="author">
                    <name>
                        <surname>Ruth Evans</surname>
                        <given-names/>
                    </name>
                    <aff>Saint Louis University</aff>
                    <address>
                        <email>ruth.evans@slu.edu</email>
                    </address>
                </contrib>
            </contrib-group>
            <pub-date publication-format="epub" date-type="pub" iso-8601-date="2021">
                <year>2021</year>
            </pub-date>
            <product product-type="book">
                <person-group>
                    <name>
                        <surname>Potter, Ursula A</surname>
                        <given-names/>
                    </name>
                </person-group>
                <source>The Unruly Womb in Early Modern English Drama: Plotting Women's Biology on the Stage</source>
                <year iso-8601-date="2019">2019</year>
                <publisher-loc>Kalamazoo, MI</publisher-loc>
                <publisher-name>Medieval Institute Publications </publisher-name>
                <page-range>Pp. x, 263</page-range>
                <price>$89.99 (hardback)</price>
                <isbn>978-1-58044-370-8 (hardback) 978-1-58044-371-5 (ebook)</isbn>
            </product>
            <permissions>
                <copyright-statement>Copyright 2021 Trustees of Indiana University. Indiana University provides the information contained in this file for non-commercial, personal, or research use only. All other use, including but not limited to commercial or scholarly reproductions, redistribution, publication or transmission, whether by electronic means or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright holder is strictly prohibited.</copyright-statement>
            </permissions>
        </article-meta>
    </front>
    <body>
        <p>The subject of Ursula Potter’s study is the portrayal on the early modern English stage
            of women’s diseases that were believed to be caused by the uterus. The extensive staging
            of these female maladies in the period from c. 1560 to 1640 calls to mind the many
            representations today in Hollywood films and in TV series of mental illnesses that are
            predominantly associated in the popular imagination with women, for example, <italic>The
                Virgin Suicides</italic> and <italic>Amy</italic>, as examples of characters with
            what DSM-5, the latest edition of the US <italic>Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of
                Mental Disorders</italic>, calls Functional Neurologic Disorder or Conversion
            Disorder; and <italic>Crazy Ex-Girlfriend</italic>, <italic>Fatal Attraction</italic>,
                <italic>Girl, Interrupted</italic>, and <italic>Single White Female</italic>,
            supposedly showing women with Borderline Personality Disorder. In the sixteenth and
            early seventeenth centuries the maladies Potter is concerned with are known by many
            different names: “green sickness” (a malady of virgins, characterized by a green
            pallor), “fits of the mother,” “suffocation of the mother,” and <italic>passio
                hysterica</italic>. Their symptoms range from sexual frustration to inordinate
            sexual desire, promiscuity, melancholy, moodiness, swooning, or delirium. These symptoms
            stereotype and pathologize women as crazy, unstable, and hypersexualized, just as in
            popular culture today.</p>
        <p>The well-documented history of women’s diseases that are believed to be caused solely by
            the possession of a uterus goes back to Hippocrates (c. 460-370 BCE). The names,
            symptoms, and representations of those diseases have changed considerably over the
            centuries, as has the understanding of their causes. In the early modern period the womb
            was seen as the most powerful organ in the female body, with independent sensory
            faculties and demonic powers, requiring male physicians, and indeed most men (as Potter
            amply demonstrates), to constantly regulate women’s health and sexuality. The womb’s
            capacity for movement within the body (the wandering womb theory of antiquity) could
            purportedly even lead to death, and was allied in the period with fear of religious
            damnation. By the nineteenth century, the cultural understanding of hysteria (Gk
                <italic>hystera</italic>, womb) had vastly changed. The French neurologist
            Jean-Martin Charcot believed that hysteria was hereditary, and that its cause was trauma
            to the nervous system. Yet in his lectures at the Salpêtrière Asylum in Paris in the
            1880s, Charcot famously exhibited the grimacing or contorted bodies of his female
            hysterical patients. Potter does not make this point, but the theater of hysteria, in
            which women’s bodies are presented as spectacles for public gaze, has a history that
            reaches from the early modern period to the present.</p>
        <p>Potter’s study opens with a chapter “Troubled with the Mother,” which gives an overview
            of Renaissance medical views of the womb and its diseases. Five chapters deal
            individually with the presentation of uterine disorders in either one or two plays
            spanning the period 1566 to 1634. The chapters run chronologically, beginning with the
            earliest play that mentions green sickness, <italic>The Bugbears</italic> (1566-70), an
            early Elizabethan comedy for grammar school boys or boy players, and ending with a
            chapter on William Shakespeare’s <italic>Measure for Measure</italic> (1604) and John
            Milton’s masque <italic>Comus</italic> (1634), these last two grouped together because
            they associate “excessive religious zeal in young women with adolescent development”
            (200), representing the interest towards the end of the period, Potter argues, in the
            Puritan obsession with the chaste female body. Shakespeare’s plays are heavily
            represented: in addition to <italic>Measure for Measure</italic>, there is lengthy
            discussion of <italic>The Taming of the Shrew</italic>, <italic>Romeo and
                Juliet</italic>, <italic>Hamlet</italic>, and <italic>The Two Noble
            Kinsmen</italic>. But there is also substantial analysis of some lesser-known plays:
                <italic>The Maid’s Tragedy</italic> (c. 1611-13), <italic>Parasitaster, or The
                Fawne</italic> (c. 1604-06), <italic>A Fair Quarrel</italic> (1617), and <italic>The
                Hollander</italic> (1635).</p>
        <p>The chapters follow more or less the same format. Potter provides an overview of each
            play (its date, author, genre, source(s), and early modern performance history), its
            topical interests, its engagement with contemporary medicine and medical techniques,
            brief character sketches, and plot details that relate to female (sometimes male)
            sexuality and its regulation. There is a very short chapter (6 pp.) on fathers and
            daughters in Shakespeare’s plays, the rationale for which is Potter’s observation at the
            end of the previous chapter on <italic>Romeo and Juliet</italic> that Shakespeare
            repeatedly stages “a daughter’s sexual maturation as a confronting development for her
            father” (103) and that this is supported by biographical evidence from Shakespeare’s
            life. Potter refers to a wide range of early modern plays throughout the study. An
            appendix usefully tabulates a selection of 58 early modern drama and performance texts
            that have female characters--very rarely, men--suffering from these maladies, with lists
            of their symptoms and contemporary diagnoses, texts that Potter argues warrant further
            research.</p>
        <p>The book has several weaknesses. Potter treats the plays reductively, as transparent
            sources of information about women’s maladies rather than as representations that are
            open to differing interpretations. It is questionable that “Shakespeare and Fletcher
            stand out as supporters of healthy sexuality in women” (7), or that “the cornerstone of
            Renaissance medical understandings of the female body” was that it was “every woman’s
            unchallenged right to have a satisfying and fruitful sex life” (11), and that dramatists
            were “merely reflecting what Renaissance medicine took for granted” (27). Although
            Potter claims that these maladies drive the plot, the book lacks an overarching
            argument. In her reading of <italic>Romeo and Juliet</italic>, for example, the focus is
            less on the disease of green sickness than on Juliet’s “libido” as the signal of “a
            potential domestic crisis” (94). This is also not a feminist study. Although she claims
            that women were empowered through possession of a womb (12), and that <italic>The
                Fawne</italic> is sympathetic to women (159), Potter does not explore the gendered
            dynamics of each play in theoretical terms, nor does she consider what they might afford
            in terms of female resistance to the pathologizing of women’s behavior. Rather, Potter
            sees women in the plays as succumbing to “their bodies’ sexual demands” (197). Potter
            mentions friction as a cure for green sickness (36) but treats lesbian sex very
            perfunctorily (37). She asserts that both “green sickness” and “love sickness” were
            understood to be uterine disorders and were often conflated in the drama (35). But I
            would argue that there is a case for seeing green sickness as separate from “fits of the
            mother,” because of its origins in the late antique and medieval <italic>amor
                hereos</italic>, which Potter does not refer to, and because of its different
            nosological framework.</p>
        <p>It is not clear who the audience for this book is. It seems to be aimed primarily at
            early modern drama scholars and scholars of English drama history, as well as scholars
            of the history of sexuality, and the general public. It is not a work of original
            scholarship. Potter knows the plays well and is familiar with contemporary attitudes
            towards the regulation of female behavior, but she does not use new archival material,
            and is very dependent on secondary sources. As she acknowledges, Chapter 2 draws almost
            entirely on Sara Read’s <italic>Menstruation and the Female Body</italic> (2013) and she
            also makes extensive use of Lesel Dawson’s <italic>Lovesickness and Gender in Early
                Modern English Literature</italic> (2008) and Laurinda Dixon’s <italic>Perilous
                Chastity</italic> (1995). The texts of the plays she uses are not always those of
            record, and Potter does not direct readers to the publication history of the plays, so
            this is not a study for book historians. There are some omissions from the bibliography,
            including G. S. Rousseau’s “‘A Strange Pathology’: Hysteria in the Early Modern World,
            1500-1800” in the collection <italic>Hysteria Beyond Freud</italic>, work by Mark S.
            Micale, Mary Wack’s <italic>Lovesickness in the Middle Ages</italic>, and Elaine
            Showalter’s <italic>The Female Malady</italic>.</p>
        <p>Although Potter’s informative study is overly empiricist and lacks an argument, it draws
            readers’ attention to a body of important material that other scholars will use to
            develop arguments of their own. For example, David Mitchell and Sharon Snyder’s notion
            of “narrative prosthesis,” that is, the reliance of writers on the trope of a disabled,
            eccentric, or deviant body as both a foundational narrative device and “an interruptive
            force that confronts cultural truisms,” would be useful in thinking in a more theorized
            way about the function of these female diseases as plot devices and their challenge to
            our assumptions about normalcy. [1]</p>
        <p>--------</p>
        <p>Notes:</p>
        <p>1. David T. Mitchell and Sharon L. Snyder, <italic>Narrative Prosthesis: Disability and
                the Dependencies of Discourse</italic> (University of Michigan Press, 2000), p.
            48.</p>
    </body>
</article>