The Queen Elizabeth I Society: the first ten years.
Levin, Carole
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In 2001 Donald Stump asked me if I would like to help him create an
organization for people studying Queen Elizabeth I. So much thoughtful
and innovate scholarship had been done about Elizabeth I in the last
decades of the twentieth century by people in a variety of disciplines
that it seemed like the perfect time for a society to be formed. We
wanted an organization that would be welcoming to graduate students as
well as to senior scholars, and to scholars from a wide range of
disciplines: literature, history, art history, music history, and the
like. Thus was the Queen Elizabeth I Society born, with our first
sessions at South Central Renaissance Conference in 2002 in St. Louis.
In 2011 we celebrated our tenth anniversary of this founding, returning
to St. Louis once again, with Donald and St. Louis University as our
host. In the intervening years our organization has grown. We have a
website. We sponsor many sessions, have our keynote speakers, offer the
Agnes Strickland prize for best essays in the open sessions, awarding
work by both graduate students and senior scholars. As well as our
commitment to excellent scholarship, we are also dedicated to the joy we
take in our work. At our conference every year we have an evening
entertainment and an auction of" what we claim comes from the
queen's attic.
This decade has seen an explosion of brilliant scholarship on
Elizabeth I. Many members of our society have been a part of it. In 2009
Donald Stump and Susan M. Felch published the Norton critical edition on
Elizabeth, Elizabeth I and Her Age, which in 2010 received the award for
best book to be used for teaching by the Society for the Study of Early
Modern Women. Scholarship produced for conference presentations has led
to members working together on further scholarly projects. A session on
Elizabeth I and Foreign Powers was held at the conference in 2008, with
papers by Brandie Siegfried, Anna Riehl Bertolet, Nathan Martin, and
Nate Probasco. Charles Beem used the four papers as a core set of essays
for a collection The Foreign Relations of Elizabeth I (Palgrave
Macmillan, 2011).
We did a special issue of Explorations in Renaissance Culture in
2004 based on our 2003 meeting, which celebrated the four hundred
anniversary of the death of Elizabeth. To celebrate the achievements of
our organization, we are doing this second special issue. We have
gathered together a number of our keynote presentations and Strickland
winners of the last few years at the Queen Elizabeth I Society. The
essays by Debra Barrett-Graves, Charles Beem, Catherine Loomis,
Marguerite Tassi, and Jacqueline Vanhoutte were all presented as
keynotes, while the essays by Daniel Ellis, Nate Probasco, and Mary
Villeponteaux all had received the Agnes Strickland award for best paper
in the open sessions. We have also included the essay of Paige Reynolds,
one of our members. These essays show how thoughtful and wide-ranging
the scholarship on Elizabeth and queenship has become.
This collection of essays adds to the scholarly discussion on
queens in the Renaissance with work on history, literature, and art.
While some of the essays address such canonical texts as The Merchant of
Venice, others bring attention to little-known works such as those by
George Ferrers. A number of them also address Elizabeth I's own
writing. These essays have many connections between them showing the
richness of the scholarship on queens.
Debra Barrett-Graves explores the significance of the images in the
Hampden Portrait of Elizabeth I. Through her use of emblem books, such
as Palmer's Poosees, she is able to find the meanings that
Elizabethans would have understood but are much less well known today.
Daniel Ellis argues that while Elizabeth could be clear and direct,
since the time she was a child, she had learned the values of deferral
and indeterminacy, and they became a central aspect of her rhetoric.
Ellis examines the eleven-year-old Elizabeth's translation, and the
context of her life when she did it, of Marguerite de Navarre's
religious writings. The Glass of the Sinful Soul was a gift for
Catherine Parr. By also examining her later speeches and writings, Ellis
determines that the style the child used became a significant feature of
her political rhetoric once she became queen. Jacqueline Vanhoutte uses
John Lyly's Endymion as a way into an analysis of late Elizabethan
treatises that attacked the sexuality of aging men. As the queen aged,
so did a number of the men of her court, such as Robert Dudley and
Christopher Hatton. But while there were perceptions of older men being
indecorous in love, Vanhoutte deftly shows that there was a complexity
of contemporary reactions to the queen's age, and by examining
Elizabeth's own words demonstrates that the queen herself was quite
open about her age.
Mary Villeponteaux makes a number of intriguing connections between
Portia in A Merchant of Venice and Elizabeth in her essay, "A
Goodly Musicke in Her Regiment: Elizabeth, Portia, and the Elusive
Harmony of Justice." As Villeponteaux points out, Elizabeth's
counselors were often upset that Elizabeth wanted to be merciful when
they thought it would be more expedient to be punitive. She presents a
careful analysis of the conflict between cultural expectations of female
mercy and the need for the monarch to provide justice. Villeponteaux
argues that in Portia Shakespeare reconciles some of the tensions
between justice and mercy and draws fascinating parallels between
Shakespeare's character and Shakespeare's queen.
While Villeponteaux looks at conflict and confluence of mercy and
justice, Marguerite Tassi looks at conflicts between sympathy for loss
and distaste for the sharp desire for female revenge. Tassi shows the
resonance of the story of Hecuba in the early modern period. She
demonstrates that Shakespeare engaged sympathy for the usually not
sympathetic female characteristic of sharply desired revenge by using
the myth of Hecuba as a mourning mother-queen and woman of agency, to
make such characters as Tamora in Titus Andronicus and Queen Margaret in
the Henry VI tetralogy more understandable. Tassi also adroitly shows
the connections of Elizabeth to these fictional queens. She carefully
argues that early modern feminine revenge gains an ethical justification
when female characters echo Hecuba as powerless mother-queens who
witness wartime atrocities.
In "Female Piety in the Reign of Elizabeth I" Paige
Reynolds examines the cultural connections between the physicality of
women and their spirituality, particularly when a woman, Elizabeth I, is
on the throne. By looking at Elizabeth I's own statements,
representations of women in such authors as Shakespeare, and actual
women such as Katherine Stubbes, Reynolds argues that the queen pushed
against Protestant theology by presenting the concept that the female
body and the immaterial soul are not incompatible. And while Elizabeth I
may have been speaking specifically about herself, it resonated
culturally beyond her Majesty.
While Tassi and Reynolds are examining Elizabeth and women, some of
the essays examine men who were at Elizabeth's court and the
queen's connection with them. Nate Probasco, in "Sir Humphrey
Gilbert, Elizabeth I, and the Anglo-Spanish Conflict," tells the
intriguing story of Sir Humphrey Gilbert's plan for extending the
queen's and England's influence in the Americas. The
often-cautious Elizabeth signed patents that demonstrated her support of
Gilbert's daring plans. Though Gilbert himself died before his
plans could be implemented, Probasco argues that his ideas had great
influence on subsequent explorers and adventurers such as Sir Francis
Drake, Sir Richard Grenville, and Sir Martin Frobisher.
Catherine Loomis examines how Elizabeth and others at court
regarded Robert Cecil, the brilliant advisor who was very short with a
hunchback, wry neck, disproportionately large head, and splayed feet.
While Elizabeth nicknamed him her "pygmy," and later her
"elf," many others had even more cruel names for Cecil. Loomis
also examines how the Cecil family explained Robert's disability so
that it did not reflect on his mother Mildred, claiming that his nurse
had dropped him as a baby rather than, as it truly was, genetic. Mothers
were blamed for any abnormalities because people believed they were
caused by something the mother did while pregnant.
Charles Beem examines the Tudor gentleman George Ferrets, a man of
many talents who was occasionally in the spotlight during the reigns of
Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary, and Elizabeth. One of his talents was on
display when he authored the Lady of the Lake's address at the
entertainment at Kenilworth that Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester,
arranged for Queen Elizabeth. He was one of the authors of The Mirror
for Magistrates. He also provided the first English translation of the
Magna Carta. Beem examines Ferrer's career from a variety of angles
and argues that Ferrers was a scholar and a man who was able to survive
in a variety of environments. Beem argues that Ferrers apparently craved
the glitz and glitter of the courtier's life without any
discernible desire for an office in royal government.
These essays show the great vitality of scholarship on Elizabeth I
and the high quality of work produced by members of the Queen Elizabeth
I Society. We have had a great first ten years. We look forward to many
more. I am deeply grateful to Thomas Herron and Frances Malpezzi for the
opportunity to edit this special issue, to Ilona Bell for thoughtful and
generous readings of the essays, to my undergraduate research assistant
Alicia Meyer for all her help putting this issue together, and to the
South Central Renaissance Conference for their generosity in hosting us
each year.