Drugs, medicine, and the early modern stage.
Garner, Stanton B., Jr.
Drugs and Theater in Early Modern England, by Tanya Pollard.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005. Pp. X + 211. Cloth $74.00.
Beyond the Body: The Boundaries of Medicine and English Renaissance Drama, by William Kerwin. Amherst and Boston: University of
Massachusetts Press, 2005. Pp. x + 290. Cloth $34.95.
IN 1996 Keir Elam remarked on "the corporeal turn" in
Renaissance studies. (1) Ten years later we can appreciate how often
this turn has been directed toward the relationship between theater and
medical discourse and practice. The last two years alone have seen the
publication of seven books in this area offering new perspectives on
mercantilism and disease, pharmaceutical culture, diagnosis and cure,
mental illness, and early modern anatomy. (2) That theater serves as the
medium for these studies is no surprise. From the medical underpinnings
of Aristotle's theory of katharsis through the anatomy theaters of
Andreas Vesalius and the influence of humoral medicine on Elizabethan
and Jacobean characterization, the two disciplines demonstrated a shared
preoccupation with questions of embodiment, observation, and somatic representation. If theater is etymologically a "seeing place,"
then the modes of attention and diagnosis it engages are inescapably
entwined with medicine's "theaters" of the body.
Tanya Pollard's Drugs and Theater in Early Modern England and
William Kerwin's Beyond the Body: The Boundaries of Medicine and
English Renaissance Drama examine the impact on English Renaissance
drama of a changing medical profession and its often contending regimes
of treatment. Pollard's book explores the representations of drugs
in Elizabethan and Jacobean drama by foregrounding the medical and
cultural debates within and surrounding early modern pharmacology.
Kerwin's book covers some of the same ground, but in its treatment
of medical practitioners and treatments, it raises broader historical
and methodological questions of how one studies the medical in history
and culture. In the end, both authors carry their concern with medical
developments and controversies into the nature of theater itself.
Pollard approaches the theater in terms of a series of radical
shifts in the pharmaceutical field of early modern medicine. The number
and uses of medical remedies expanded in the late sixteenth century as
New World explorers introduced Europe to medicinal herbs, including
Guiacum sanctum, a tropical plant used to treat syphilis (which they
also brought with them). In direct challenge to the humoral therapeutics
of Galenism, Paracelsus and his followers introduced new, often toxic,
chemicals into medical use. This crisis of professional authority
contributed to a deepening ambivalence about drugs and other
preparations. Remedial medicines could turn out to be poisonous, poisons
could also have curative effects, and the same substance could work both
ways depending on its prescription and use.
As Pollard suggests, the ambiguous, often dangerous, effects of
drugs engaged a range of issues for playwrights, including the integrity
of borders, bodily and otherwise; the relationship between the somatic
and the mental; the unreliability of appearances; and the points of
convergence between "the imagination and the body, the literary and
the scientific, the magical and the rational" (22). In addition,
the controversies surrounding drugs and their effects provided a
discursive context for sixteenth- and early seventeenth-century debates
about the operations of theater on its spectators. "A chorus of
voices--from both attackers and defenders of the theater, as well as
from playwrights themselves--saw the theater not only as a vehicle for
representing drugs and poisons, but as a kind of drug or poison
itself" (9). Pollard's book explores this pharmacological
conception of the audience-stage relationship by discussing a range of
drugs, remedies, and applications in relation to specific dramatic
texts.
Chapter 1 considers drugs, poisons, and duplicitous doctors in John
Webster's The White Devil and Ben Jonson's Sejanus and
Volpone. Because these subjects have been treated by earlier scholars,
the readings in the chapter have a familiar ring to them: Vittoria
Corombona is presented as "a powerful but volatile medicine,
intimately invasive, with dangerous side-effects" (37); the medical
parody in Volpone's mountebank performance "identifies the
dangers of medical charlatanism with the pleasures and perils of the
theater itself" (45); while the notion of corrosive medicine serves
as a figure for Jonson's moral and satiric aims. Chapter 2 offers a
more unexpected and nuanced reading of sleeping potions in
Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet and Antony and Cleopatra. The fact
that such potions operate in both remedial and harmful ways suggests
that plays, for Shakespeare, are "misleadingly soothing potions
that lull spectators into dream-like escapes, with uncertain
consequences" (55). The proximity between sleep and death in Romeo
and Juliet suggests the uncertain boundaries between the two states, and
this reflects the phenomenological indistinguishability of the two in
audience perception (it is hard to tell a "sleeping" character
from a "dead" one). Through a provocative extension, Pollard
links this indeterminacy with the ambiguous generic status of
Shakespeare's love tragedies, which mix elements of comedy into
their overall tragic structure.
Chapter 3 offers a fascinating discussion of cosmetics, which were
closely allied to medical remedies in early modern thought. Because
cosmetics were often linked with poisons (most cosmetics were made of
mercury sublimate and ceruse, or white lead) and their operations were
usually invisible, they created "a crisis of permeability,
penetration and contagion" (83). Inevitably, face-painting was
linked by moralists to other forms of contamination, concealment, and
problematic interpretation: "concealing true faces behind false,
they undermined the trustworthiness of bodily signs, leading to a
broader crisis of semiotic reliability" (88). The extension to
theater was a natural one, and cosmetics came to embody for
antitheatricalists and playwrights together the dangerous seduction of
dramatic performance. Chapter 4 explores the operations of this
seduction in several plays that feature poisonous female corpses:
Massinger's The Second Maiden's Tragedy and The Duke of Milan,
as well as The Revenger's Tragedy. In all three plays the
theatricality inherent in adornment is associated with the
theater's own idolatrous appeal, as spectators are given a vision
of the consequence of spectatorship.
Chapter 5 concludes Pollard's investigation of the body's
vulnerable boundaries with an analysis of poison, language, and the ear
in Hamlet. Pollard's reading of the ear in Shakespeare's play,
in conjunction with Renaissance writings on the ear, links "early
modern concerns about the integrity of bodily boundaries" (129)
with the period's often physical conception of language's
power over subjects and bodies. Here, too, the link with theater is
crucial, and if Pollard is not the first to note the connection between
poison's invasive operations and the effect of Hamlet's
"Mousetrap" on Claudius--or the implications of this for the
operation of Shakespeare's own dramatic creation--her analysis
achieves its own originality through the pharmaceutical contexts she
foregrounds.
It is not uncommon for books that turn a play's thematic
preoccupations into reflections on the medium itself to overstate such
connections, and Pollard's book does not avoid this temptation. The
claims about theater feel strained at times, especially in chapter 4
("If the Duke [in The Revenger's Tragedy] represents the
audience, are we, the play's external spectators, tortured like him
with the fatal spectacle of Gloriana?" [119]). But this is a minor
reservation about an otherwise useful and informative book.
Pollard's exploration of the "newly emerging world of
ambivalent pharmacy" (147) directs our attention to an aspect of
English Renaissance drama that otherwise exists on the periphery. Like
the best examples of somatic criticism in recent Renaissance studies,
Drugs and Theater in Early Modern England asks us to attend to the
intense corporeality of Renaissance dramatic writing. As Pollard notes
of the plays she discusses, "The worlds they present, steeped in
medicines, ointments, drugs, paints, and poisons, insist that words,
plays, and selves are all material, tangible, embodied presences"
(148).
The theatrical, social, and discursive landscapes of Beyond the
Body are embodied, as well, though William Kerwin's interests in
this embodiment are different than Pollard's. As his title
suggests, Kerwin explores the limits of a purely medical approach to the
body as a historical entity. Unlike traditional studies of Renaissance
medicine, Beyond the Body adopts the more socially directed approach of
more recent medical historiography. This kind of history, Kerwin notes,
"is often called 'externalist' to signify the importance
of nonmedical history in shaping medical activities in contrast to
'internalist' history, which studies medicine or science as
discrete bodies of knowledge" (5). Rather than analyzing the plays
of Shakespeare and his contemporaries in terms of medical theory alone,
Kerwin examines the ways in which nonmedical controversies, economic
factors, and historical trends determine the meanings of medical
culture, medical practice, and their representations in Renaissance
drama. As Kerwin writes in his opening chapter, "Medical stories
are always also social stories, and in this book I present five case
studies of how medicine's formation was a social contest in which
different forces in society created multiple forms of the medical"
(1). While Beyond the Body is detailed in its examination of medical
debates and practices, its critical gaze is ultimately directed toward
"group encounters that precede but shape embodiment" (vii).
A closer look at two of Kerwin's "case studies"
suggests the methodological benefits of this approach. Chapter 2
addresses the influence on Renaissance dramatic texts of the
pharmaceutical culture examined by Pollard. But whereas Pollard focuses
on the operations of individual drugs and remedies and their
metatheatrical appropriation, Kerwin explores the changing professions
of apothecaries and alchemists in the context of "new markets, new
class relations, and a new sense of the liquidity of wealth" (18).
In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, apothecaries developed from
a medieval guild to a medical profession able to take advantage of an
expanding market economy and a rapidly developing urban world. The Friar
and the unnamed Mantuan apothecary in Romeo and Juliet represent two
historical moments in this transformation, and their juxtaposition
underscores Shakespeare's skeptical attitude toward both drug
cultures. Alchemists underwent similar transformation during the early
modern period. Paracelsian alchemy paved the way for the emergence of
modern chemistry and, in so doing, encouraged new market practices. Not
only were chemical ideas "nurtured by modernizing economic
forces" (46), but the new alchemy was also framed in terms of
Puritan Reformation ideas (Paracelsus was referred to as the
"Luther of Medicine"). These extramedical contexts allow
powerful readings of Jonson's Mercury Vindicated from the
Alchemists at Court and The Alchemist, which Kerwin sees as an
investigation into alchemy's association with economic and
religious innovation. As Kerwin argues, alchemy in Jonson's plays
is not merely a metaphoric or thematic device; rather, it is part of a
cultural formation that includes a broader sphere of economic and
religious meanings.
Chapter 3 considers the social and theatrical presence of women
healers in early modern England. As revisionist historians have
demonstrated, women practitioners were central to health during this
period, even going so far as to practice surgery. Predictably, these
women were denounced as unlearned and dangerous by medical authorities,
including the College of Physicians, which sought--usually
unsuccessfully--to curtail their practice. (The efforts of the College
to consolidate its medical authority in the face of emerging
practitioners during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries is one of
the central narratives of Beyond the Body, and Kerwin works insightfully
with the College's annals and other writings.) Given the prevalence
of women healers in London and rural England, it is striking how seldom
they appear on the English Renaissance stage. When they do, their
portrayal differs from their denigration in official accounts. In
Lyly's Mother Bombie, Shakespeare's All's Well That Ends
Well, and Hey wood's The Wise Woman of Hogsdon, women healers are
given "a strikingly social authority" (64). In keeping with
the range of contemporary social narratives in which these figures were
described, playwrights "give voice to this ambiguous social
position, drawing on the struggles of the historical woman healer to
create a symbol of women struggling to work" (96).
The book's remaining chapters explore the intersection of
medical and social discourses in other areas of early modern medical
culture. Chapter 4 examines the importance of surgery for early modern
notions of inwardness, surface, and the individual. As the cultural
function of surgery expanded in the sixteenth century, surgeons assumed
a central role in cultural negotiations about the line between private
and public domains. In an engaging parallel to Pollard's analysis,
chapter 5 considers the relationship of theatricality to professional
medical identity. Whereas Elizabethan and Jacobean physicians used the
language of antitheatricality to stigmatize their competitors for being
"mere actors" (133), dramatists used the figure of the
histrionic charlatan to describe members of the medical profession
themselves. By the Caroline period attitudes toward acting had changed,
and a new model emerged: that of the doctor-scientist, or virtuoso, who
signaled his increasing social prestige through the performance of cures
and social experiments. Chapter 6 turns to patients themselves and the
ways in which early modern subjects defined their identities in medical
terms. In Twelfth Night, Shakespeare satirizes the anchoring of identity
through humoral categories and the discourses of spiritual healing. In
keeping with the argument of the book as a whole, Kerwin's Twelfth
Night debunks medicalized diagnosis that neglects the role of social
determinations of lived experience.
Beyond the Body is an impressive contribution to the fields of
Renaissance medical culture and theater. The link between these fields
is stronger in some discussions than it is in others, and the analyses
of medical developments and controversies are sometimes more
illuminating than the play analyses they support. Moreover,
Kerwin's insistence on the innovation of his externalist approach
is not always fair to earlier scholarship on Renaissance medicine, much
of which is aware of broader disciplinary, economic, and social
developments even if it does not choose to foreground these. But the
book's rhetorical strategies do not detract from its
accomplishment. By taking advantage of the most recent trends in medical
historiography, Kerwin offers a powerful account of the early modern
body, its emergent technologies, and its complicated representation on
social and institutional stages. Like Pollard's book, it reminds us
how different medical practices could be in early modern Europe and how
often these practices mixed the scientific with the magical;
Shakespeare's age is never stranger than when it theorizes and
treats the body. At the same time, its account of the crisis of medical
authority that characterized the English Renaissance and the changes
that medicine underwent as a result of the age's economic
transformation establishes antecedents and surprising correlations to
our own age of medical specialization, technological development, and
alternative therapies. Four hundred years after Jonson's alchemists
took the stage, the questions and possibilities raised by a medicalized
culture are as urgent as ever.
Notes
1. Keir Elam, "'In What Chapter of His Bosom?':
Reading Shakespeare's Bodies," in Terence Hawkes, ed.,
Alternative Shakespeares, vol. 2 (New York: Routledge, 1996), 143.
2. In addition to the books reviewed here, see Jonathan Gil Harris,
Sick Economies: Drama, Mercantilism, and Disease in Shakespeare's
England (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004);
Stephanie Moss and Kaara L. Peterson, eds., Disease, Diagnosis, and Cure
on the Early Modern Stage (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004); Ken Jackson,
Separate Theaters: Bethlem ("Bedlam") Hospital and the
Shakespearean Stage (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 2005);
Hillary M. Nunn, Staging Anatomies: Dissection and Spectacle in Early
Stuart Tragedy (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2005); Maurizio Calbi, Approximate
Bodies: Gender and Power in Early Modern Drama and Anatomy (New York:
Routledge, 2005).
Reviewer: STANTON B. GARNER JR.