Written by Marnie Camping-Harris
Queer: outside of “normal terms” of sexuality and/or gender; often a synonym for gay.
Transgender: moving away from an unchosen starting place in terms of gender.
There is no question about it: queer people did exist in the Middle Ages. However, whether they saw themselves as such has been questioned by historians for decades. This article will look at the history of queer terminology, as well as why gay sex was deemed as sinful and how those people engaging in it viewed the act. Ultimately, this article will demonstrate that referring to medieval people as queer is anachronistic.
Gaining circulation in the late nineteenth century, the term homosexual was introduced by scholars to account for what they deemed an “abnormal psychology”.3 Now this is not to say that this is how the term is still defined today, but it can give an idea as to when the terminology started to be used. It is also important to note that such terminology was not even needed in certain spheres, as sexual intercourse was seen as something someone did to someone else. There were two roles, passive and active, with the active member usually penetrating the passive.4 This meant that if a man penetrated another man, he was simply acting as the masculine active role and should not be deemed as queer; this was particularly prevalent in Ancient Greece and Rome.5 Therefore, assuming that this term was introduced to fill in a blank, before the 1850s, there was no specific label for those we now identify as queer. This begs the question: how did gay people in the Middle Ages refer to themselves? Well, they didn’t. There was no label for them apart from that of sinful. Yet this was how the Catholic Church viewed anyone having sex in the medieval period.6
Chastity was the chosen sexuality of the church during the Middle Ages. To them, flesh was in desperate need of control and subduing, otherwise those engaging in sex would not experience salvation.7 Even those who were married were expected to remain chaste, but exceptions were sometimes allowed if the sex was only for reproductive purposes.8 This is where issues arise within the medieval period with what we would describe today as queer sex. Sodomy is most commonly associated with only gay acts of intercourse, when in fact it can refer to any sexual act that does not resolve in a baby.9 However, much non-reproductive sex occurred between partners of the opposite gender as well, proving that the act of sodomy did not equate to queer relations in today’s culture.10 Where the church was concerned, non-reproductive sex, and therefore sodomy, was the most sinful of acts and one that they should rid people of in hopes for their salvation. Yet remember again that these issues for the church did not surround strictly queer relationships, nor were those engaging in such acts strictly queer themselves; they were either active or passive.
Primary sources, on the other hand, demonstrate that these hopes were not so fruitful, and as with every society, there were always those operating against the norm, or rather against what was expected of people, inside or outside the church. We also have the advantage of the modern lens, with which we can use to perhaps understand the feelings between such same-sex acts.
Firstly, the case of Eleanor Rykener follows what some may call a cross-dressing sex worker, however, it is also just as plausible that Eleanor is a medieval trans-woman. She is detailed as engaging in sexual acts with both men and women, but only as the opposite gender of each respective customer. In her questioning, Rykener confessed to having “sex as a man with many nuns”, but also that “many priests had committed that vice with him as with a woman”.11 Was this to follow the active and passive guidelines or simply to satisfy her patrons? Some scholars could regard Eleanor’s switch in gender expression as a way to make more money as a sex-worker, however, our modern lens could also portray this switch as evidence for the difficulties of being a trans-woman in the medieval period. Nevertheless, it is anachronistic to label Rykener as such. These descriptions were not in circulation at this time; therefore, we should not assume that our modern ones can apply here.
Moreover, the case of Benedetta Carlini has been described by historians as an insight into a queer relationship within the confines of a monastic order. In the excerpt, Bartolomea Crivelli describes how Carlini would “put her face between the other’s breasts and kissed them”12 yet, when questioned, Carlini claimed that she had no recollection of the acts, only “that Christ and several male angels spoke through her”.13 Was this to play on the idea that she was acting in the more masculine role of their intercourse or in fact to justify her actions when questioned by her religious fellows? This relationship has been cited as queer by historians, but again that is anachronistic. Even Carlini stated that the acts were not mentally done by herself, but the male angels.
As historians we cannot make generalised assumptions about historical people, without concentrated evidence, and even then, it is still just that: an assumption. Implementing this type of terminology onto a culture that has never heard of it can help others understand them better and some may view it as empowering, however, it is ultimately anachronistic. History strives for accuracy but calling medieval people queer could be a false narrative, as we can never be fully assured of their identity.
Bibliography
Ruth Mazo Karras, Sexuality in Medieval Europe: Doing unto Others (Routledge, 2017)
The Questioning of John Rykener (1395)
Judith C. Brown, “Lesbian Sexuality in Renaissance Italy: The Case of Benedetta Carlini”, The Lesbian Issue (9:4) (1984)
Retrospect Journal 