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"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels ...": rhetorical practices in nineteenth-century religious and medical discourse.

This essay examines a variety of medical and religious texts from mid-nineteenth-century Spain. It explores the degree to which their writing--as a medium that betrays more than a simple message of content--indicates to us how far they were allied to other social authorities, and specifically to the Church, in a power structure sealed by language. In addition, these texts demonstrate that professional writing intended for popular dissemination had common elements of approach and expression that transcended disciplinary or confessional boundaries. Both medical and religious texts reveal a high level of concern with maintaining positions of authority. This is partly related to issues of social power (the habitual implied audiences of such texts being women, children, and the lower classes). At the same time, the concern with power provides exemplification of anxieties about gender and degeneration, against which the structures and skills of rhetoric are brought in as weapons of control. The body of the essay examines the ways in which the two fields of discourse converge, so that the Church speaks of matters of health while medical texts borrow theological terminology. This convergence is revealed further in the authorities they cite, and in their approach to linguistic register. Both employ Latin and complex syntax as ploys to exclude the unlettered and to designate an implied minority readership. The project of control of the readership through rhetoric is revealed as a prime reason for using it. At the same time, as revealed in later-nineteenth-century texts, the emotive powers of rhetoric contain the potential for a counter-control movement that stands in tension with the initial use of rhetoric to assert social power.


A commonplace in Spanish culture of the nineteenth century is the opposition not simply of political parties or tendencies, but of sectors of belief and non-belief. We tend rather readily when looking at this period to associate progress with liberal politics, and resistance to progress with the Catholic Church. Within such a division of tendencies, the sphere of medical knowledge, for example, would naturally be associated with the forces of progress. It is true that members of the medical profession in Spain were keenly interested in the work of their peers in other European countries, yet when we consider the nature of their writings, a different picture emerges. I shall be concerned in this essay less with the content of what they wrote about than with their manner of writing. To do so I shall refer to a variety of medical and religious texts produced in the second half of the nineteenth century. The majority of texts with which I am concerned were published between 1857 and 1868 (the last decade of the reign of Isabel II) and show a clear level of common elements of discourse. My aim is to explore the degree to which their writing--as a medium that betrays more than a simple message of content--indicates to us how far they were allied to other social authorities, and specifically to the Church, in a power structure sealed by language. In addition, these texts demonstrate that professional writing intended for popular dissemination had common elements of approach and expression that transcended disciplinary or confessional boundaries.

Medical discourse in nineteenth-century Spain has come under scrutiny in recent years. Aldaraca (1989; 1992) has examined how the hysteric in Spain, as elsewhere, was constructed by the language that defined her, and how the construction of woman was along religious and social lines (1991); Valis (1992; 1994; 2000) provides a similar contextualization. Yet the most significant contribution to out familiarity with such discourse is the anthology compiled by Jagoe, Blanco, and Enriquez de Salamanca (1998). This anthology does not, however, provide us with much primary material in the field of religious discourse, the exception being Claret's views on what was needed in a woman's education (1862a). The emphasis of that anthology is on discourse as an element that was central to the construction of gender (and, in the case of woman, of her confinement). The gendering of religious discourse in Spain at this time justifies a further study in itself.

Less work has been done on the nature of popular religious discourse of the period. This is partly because of its more ephemeral nature. A brief perusal of the titles published by the Libreria Religiosa of Barcelona, and listed at the back of the 1862 edition of Claret's manual of advice to confessors, the Llave de oro [The Golden Key], shows that there was plenty of material available to the reader who wanted to avoid the dangers of the imaginative world of the novel. A total of a hundred and twenty-two works is listed, the majority but not all of Spanish origin, plus forty-two broadsides under the name of Claret. Some of these works still survive in libraries, but, unlike conduct manuals, have not generally become popular for republication, although some early catechisms have been reprinted. In addition to these (generally brief) pamphlets of a pious nature, some of which are addressed to different groups of believers (children, parents, young women), there are pamphlets and books of advice for those who were to have the cure of their souls.

It is evident that there is a relationship between different types of discourse in nineteenth-century society. Labanyi has shown conclusively, for example, the degree to which economic discourse permeated medical discourse. Images of flow, waste, and damming (all derived initially from the natural world under man's hand, and appropriated by Freud in his habitually hydraulic conceptualization of the self and its component parts and activities) are as present in economic theory as they are in medical texts concerned to establish a healthy balance (for the economy, the individual, or society) (see, for example, Labanyi 2000: 133, 216, 236).

My aim in the following discussion is not to provide the broad coverage of Jagoe, Blanco, and Enriquez de Salamanca, nor to explore, as Labanyi does, the relationship between the world of money and the world of medicine. Rather, I propose to explore particular patterns of discourse in the fields of religion and medicine, and to discuss how they are almost inevitably linked by common audiences, common aims, and how those speaking with authority in each have a common pool of techniques on which they draw. Having emphasized this degree of commonality, one needs to be aware, as mentioned above, that some works are directed to professionals, and others to those in their care. When considering them as rhetorical texts, there is an initial distinction to be made between considering those intended to have a specific effect upon an audience that needs to be persuaded of a view, and those intended to help and encourage the professionals whose task it will be to carry out that persuasion. For the purposes of this essay I shall look on the one hand at works of medicine intended for home use, for popular enlightenment, and on the other at a mixture of works of pastoral theology and popular publications of religious societies. As Labanyi comments (2000: 68), the two sectors of the population where the Church had always exercised influence, women and the working classes, were also the chosen audience of the medical experts. The tone and vocabulary of works directed specifically at such audiences reflect that fact in both fields.

One source for contemporary traditions of Spanish rhetoric is a textbook on "the art of declamation" by Guerra y Alarcon (1884). Essentially a performer's manual, it sets out what the actor should know of language and rhetoric. Language, in the context of rhetoric and declamation, is something in which body and spirit combine or interact. Because of this, language is able to become the "entera vida del ser racional, y en ser, mediante la representacion en la fantasia del sonido sensible, palabra interior (verbo) intimamente unida a nuestra interior actividad espiritual, sobre todo el pensamiento, del cual es encamacion constante, verdadero cuerpo" (31) [the entire life of the rational being, and in that being, through the representation of sound in the fantasy, to be an inner language, united to our inner spiritual activity, above all that of thought, of which it is the true body, a constant incarnation (1)]. A further bond is that between grammar and rhetoric: the former allows us to make ourselves understood, while the latter "aspira a poner en movimiento el corazon y las pasiones" [aims to move the heart and the passions] (114-15). Guerra y Alarcon adds that while one can be grammatical without being rhetorical, it is impossible to be rhetorical without first mastering grammar. The three types of language he lists, "technical," which uses the vocabulary of the sciences or the arts, "cultured," which is used by writers and orators, and "vulgar," which is used in letters and conversations (62), will be notable in the texts to be discussed not because they characterize individual texts but rather because they have a tendency to coexist.

We might well ask why rhetoric, designed to move the heart and the passions, should be used in these two fields. The tradition of evangelical missionary activity in the Church might suffice to explain the presence of rhetoric in pastoral theology. There are arguably more local factors. As Lannon has indicated (1987: 16-35) Spain may have been officially Catholic in the late nineteenth century, but religious practice at the level of attendance at confession and Mass was far from uniform. One might conclude that the need for priests to retain their authority over the parishioners they actually had was necessarily an urgent affair. The battle of the priesthood for its control over the population in Leopoldo Alas' novel, La Regenta, is an element of realism rather than of anti-clerical narrative. It is less clear why rhetoric should have been used in texts concerning the health of the body, rather than the health of the soul. But the nature of health, or the lack of it, whether in the simple realm of the body (domain of the medical men) or in the realm of the soul (domain of the Church and its priests), is in this period a matter for anxiety. Inevitably this anxiety lies in matters of sexuality, gender norms, social behaviour, and education, not least because the first three of these were prime areas for observing symptoms of degeneration. Such anxiety arguably made the need for the rhetoric of persuasion more urgent, and frequently it seems that the aim of persuasive texts was not simply to inspire fear and awe (rhetoric having certain of its aims in common with tragedy) but also a certain nervousness.

If there was a need for persuasion, there were also those ready to do it. The role of the priest as preacher is inevitably a performance. From the advice given to confessors, however, it was clear that the intimate performance required by catechism classes and the confessional was as much to be thought about and cultivated as more public oratory. Medicine was less obviously a field where persuasion was required, but in the field of medicine in nineteenth-century Spain at least many professionals were well equipped to persuade. Jagoe (1998: 306) indicates that numerous Spaniards prominent in the world of medicine (including the prime popularizers of the nineteenth century, Felipe Monlau and Angel Pulido, as well as later on the Nobel Prize winner Santiago Ramon y Cajal) were creative writers. Pulido, in addition, was an accomplished orator and showman, eventually becoming involved in spectacular public sessions of hypnotism (Jagoe 1998: 330). He was also Director of the Anthropological Museum in Madrid, which he helped to set up with another doctor, Pedro Velasco, and as Labanyi comments, "these activities allowed Pulido to indulge a penchant for edificatory showmanship." Monlau for his part not only wrote romantic dramas, but also a dictionary of Spanish (1856). His work on rhetoric (c1843) had been declared useful for universities and other public establishments of education in 1843, was adopted for the Plan de estudios in 1845, and by 1862 had reached its fourth edition.

If we compare Monlau's work on rhetoric with that of Guerra y Alarcon cited above, we find that the two have similar concepts and priorities. Monlau, however, while being the drier of the two, nonetheless reveals the urgency--at least for the medical profession--of harnessing the skills and strengths of rhetoric in the exercise of what was seen as necessary leadership. He explains that there is a transition from a natural habit to a conscious (and useful) practice. When we speak on a subject and are passionately moved by it, we will tend to move into imaginative and figurative language. In this we are impelled by the necessity to communicate to our listeners the colour with which the topic presents itself to our mind. He terms this a "moral necessity," which is what brings us to use rhetoric for topics on which we feel it is vital to communicate and persuade (Monlau 1843: 104-5).

Doctors not only had the same target-audience (largely speaking) as priests, but in the texts of dissemination of their ideas they appeared to share to some degree their system of belief. Hygienists, for example, agreed with the Church that passions are dangerous to well being. The prime reasons for this concerned the belief that passions drained useful, indeed vital, reserves from the body (Labanyi 2000: 183). To lose energy was to set oneself on the path of degeneration. The nature of the hygienists' beliefs was such that they were natural, if improbable and unintentional, allies of the Church. The point of "hygiene" was to control illness by anticipating disorder that would result from 'unhygenic' conditions or practices. Treatment thus, as Labanyi comments (66), came before the symptoms that denoted illness, with the result that society was constructed as sick. In a similar manner, the Church both concurred in ideas that certain practices amounted to social sickness, and had its own list of inbuilt propensities to sickness: the seven deadly sins. Thus priests, through the catechism and subsequent pamphlets of advice, worked on the assumption that sin was ever present and had to be avoided for spiritual health to be attained, while doctors envisioned sickness in every individual bodily condition and practice, as well as in social circumstances.

A text that neatly illustrates the convergence of medicine and religion is Mordau's Elementos de higiene privada o arte de conservar la salud del individuo [Elements of private hygiene or the art of preserving the health of the individual]. When speaking of the case for abstinence, for example, he observes that various religions recommended this partly to weaken the body, as well as because it could influence man's moral nature. Abstinence was socially useful, since it could "hacer a los hombres mas dulces, mas indulgentes, mas humanos" [make men more gentle, more indulgent, more human] (Monlau 1857: 185), (2) and that long term abstinence, a vegetarian diet, and avoidance of alcohol "castran el aguijon de las pasiones" [castrate the sting of the passions]. Here his tone is rational, calm, and his setting out of detail careful: but his use of the terms "castration" and "passions" puts him in the verbal camp of his peers in the Church.

Still on the subject of diet, he now moves into a more extreme form of discourse that one might associate with the pulpit. A "dieta fibrinosa" (diet of animal flesh), he says, has clear positive advantages for the health of the body. Having detailed the inmaediate physical advantages of health for the blood and glandular secretions, he comments that the elements of a flesh diet "dan aptitud para los sacrificios que exigen los placeres de la reproduccion, y fomentan las pasiones mas vivas, como la ambicion, la colera etc." (Monlau 1857: 191) [make possible the sacrifices that are demanded by the pleasures of reproduction, and encourage the fiercest passions, such as ambition, anger, etc]. The introduction of terms of "sacrifice" and "passions" switch the implied social context of this advice, so that the listener or reader is reminded of a world that consists of more than his body. Moreover, the knife-edge of healthy survival for body and spirit is evident. The meat diet allows man to pursue the aims of reproduction, at the same time as it lays him open to dangerous (and sinful) passions. Curiously, the florid language of Monlau in discussing diet contrasts with related recommendations made for abstinence by Claret in the Llave de oro. In his list of remedies against impurity, which begin with recommendations about diet, Claret is laconic in the extreme. His first rive precepts instruct simply that one should eat little (for the main meal of the day), eat vegetables, little meat and not even much fish, avoid drinking alcohol, and have a light supper (Claret 1862b: 84).

Monlau acknowledges Hippocrates and Galen as predecessors in medicine (a genealogy that proclaims his "hygienist" position, given the emphasis of both these doctors on how physical conditions, in the form of hygiene of surroundings, were crucial to well being). But when he discusses the internal causes of man's various disorders, his acknowledgedsource is Descuret, whose 1841 treatise La medecine des passions, ou les Passions considerees dans leurs rapports avec les maladies, les lois et la religion [Medicine of the Passions, or the Passions considered in their Relation to Illness, the Law and Religion], was widely translated. Descuret is also acknowledged in Claret's Llave de oro, but in that instance cited as a medical authority. In Monlau's text he is used for attributing to the passions, in the form of the seven deadly sins, a wide variety of physical ailments:

Los efectos de las pasiones son terribles. Como que en su esencia no son mas que transgresiones higienicas, pueden producir todas las enfermedades conocidas. La mitad de las tisis pulmonares, asi adquiridas como hereditarias, reconocen por causa el amor o la lujuria. La gota y las flegmasias agudas del tubo intestinal, en los mas de los casos, no son sino tristes frutos de la intemperancia, y sobre todo de la gula. Las enfermedades cronicas del estomago, de los intestinos, del higado, del pancreas y del bazo, son generalmente debidas a la ambicion, a los zelos, a la envidia, o a largos y profundos pesares. De 100 tumores cancerosos 90 al menos deben su principio a afecciones morales tristes. La epilepsia, el baile de San Vito, los temblores nerviosos y las convulsiones, provienen muy a menudo de un fuerte espanto, o de un violento arrebato de colera. Cuando la fiebre lenta nerviosa y el marasmo, a cuyo impetu sucumben tantas criaturas y tantos jovenes, no reconocen por causa los zelos, debemos sospechar que existe el funesto habito del onanismo. La dispepsia, la gastralgia, el insomnio, el flujo hemorroidal y la susceptibilidad nerviosa, son frecuentisimas resultados de la pasion del estudio. (Monlau 1857: 379-380)

[The effects of the passions are terrible. Since by their nature they are simply hygienic transgressions, they can produce all known illnesses. Hall the cases of tuberculosis, whether caused by contagion or through heredity, are due to love or to lust. Gout and acute inflammations of the intestine, in the majority of cases, are no more than the result of intemperance, above all of gluttony. Chronic disorders of the stomach, of the intestines, of the liver, the pancreas and the spleen, are the result of ambition, of jealousy, of envy, or to extended and profound grief. Of 100 cancerous tumours, at least 90 owe their beginning to moral afflictions of a sad nature. Epilepsy, Saint Vitus' Dance, nervous shaking and convulsions, are often the result of a strong fright or a violent attack of rage. When slow nervous fever and wasting, to which so many young persons fall victim, is not due to jealousy, we must suspect that the dire habit of onanism is present. Dyspepsia, gastric trouble, insomnia, bleeding from hemorrhoids, and a nervous disposition, are frequently the effects of a passion for study].

In the passage cited, there is a careful balancing of the discourse of the doctor and the loaded vocabulary of the priest. He has stated his case at the start: the effects of the passions are terrible. He then embarks on a structured but ever more imposing list of links between physical disorders and the passions to which they are attributed, the latter coming in the form of a type of punch-line produced in the second part of each sentence.

Monlau does not, of course, use the full range of the seven deadly sins here: he incorporates four, and leaves on one side pride, sloth, and covetousness. The dangers of sloth, however, have been set out by him earlier in no uncertain terms (reflecting that preoccupation with lack of flow that Labanyi (2000) sees as characteristic of such texts:

El reposo general inmoderado no solo perjudica a la vida organica, paralizando la accion de las partes, estancando y viciando los humores, turbando la digestion, y acortando la existencia; sino que tambien produce el fastidio, la hipocondria, la obtusion de las facultades intelectuales y la mania. No, la holganza ilimitada, la pereza excesiva, no es natural al hombre, como han dicho algunos: el ocio perpetuo es fatal para su salud y para su vida (Monlau 1857: 292)

[Immoderate general repose is not only prejudicial to organic life, since it paralyses the movements of the body, causing the humours to spoil and stagnate, upsetting the digestion and shortening the life span; but in addition it causes annoyance, hypochondria, the blunting of the mental faculties, and mania. No, unlimited leisure, excessive laziness, is not natural to man, as some have said: perpetual ease is fatal for his health and for his life.]

In no uncertain terms, then, sloth is injurious to the health, since it moves the body towards stagnation.

That Monlau regarded his brief as a doctor to encompass the soul as well as the body is evidenced in the title of his work of 1853, Higiene del matrimonio o el libro de los casados [Hygiene of Marriage, or the Book of Married Persons]. When this was revised and translated into French it had the subtitle, Hygiene de la Generation: le mariage dans ses Devoirs, ses Rapports, et ses Effets Conjugaux au point de vue legal physiologique et moral [Hygiene of Procreation: Marriage Considered in its Duties, its Benefits and its Conjugal Effects considered from the Legal, Physiological and Moral point of View]. Four years later, Claret's little volume of useful texts for confessors, Nuevo manojito de flores o sea recopilacion de doctrinas para los confesores [New bouquet, or rather new copy of doctrines for confessors], would cite a post-mission speech that Leonardo de Porto-Mauricio had given to a gathering of priests in which he asserted that the priest had three occupations: juez, medico, doctor [judge, doctor, churchman] (Claret 1859: 20).

Claret's Llave de oro, particularly when dealing with matters sexual, draws extensively on a corpus of medical texts in addition to Descuret. He cites Descuret, Devans, Siniscalqui, Parcheppe, Debreyne, Doussin-Dubreuil, Deslandes, Tissot, Gottlieb-Wogel, Franck Areteo, Boerhaave, Hoffman, Ludwig, Klockhof, Campe, Federigo Bossuet. The list not only indicates the internationalism of this genre of literature, but the practice of citing indicates how far this pastoral theology (and arguably theology in general) borrows from the practices of scientific discourse in the use of authorities. The structure secured by so doing sets a template of rationality for what are otherwise fear-inducing comments.

The list of authorities in the Llave de oro reveals something further: medical texts that embrace theology, or theological texts that embrace medicine, were not rare. Debreyne, for example, specialized in such work. Writing in French, and with many of his works translated into Spanish and some into two editions, he felt no necessity to confine himself to one professional discourse. A typical work was his Ensayo sobre la teologia moral: considerada en sus relaciones con la fisiologia y la medicina: obra destinada especialmente al clero (1851) [Essay on moral theology: considered in its relationship with physiology and medicine: a work intended particularly for the clergy]. Of the same year was his Estudio de la muerte, o iniciacion del sacerdote en el conocimiento practico de las enfermedades graves y mortales [Study of death, or initiation of the priest into the practical knowledge of serious and mortal illnesses]. (3) The two callings were united by him in the following year in El sacerdote y el mddico ante la sociedad [Priest and doctor in relation to society].

Not only were there shared texts of authority between the two fields of professional activity, but there appear also to be shared beliefs about how to handle language in relation to their chosen audience. Some of the rhetorical strategies involved treated the intended reading public as one to be divided into those who could read what was difficult and those who would be more innocent or naive readers. The obvious tactic adopted principally by texts of pastoral theology was to move into Latin when it was felt that material intended for priests might fall into the hands of the innocent. Latin constituted an obvious high register. It is interesting that Latin was generally adopted not so much as a "cultured" register as a "technical" register that would exclude the uneducated. Thus Claret's Nuevo manojito de flores suggests to the confessor that it is best to deal with sins against the sixth commandment first, because "porque por nuis encenagado que este el penitente en este pantano, camina despues nuis desembarazado" [the more mired the penitent is in this swamp, the more lightly he will travel once he has unburdened himself {emphasis in original}], but adds "pero por justos motivos tanto las preguntas como las respuestas en una materia tan resbaladiza se pondran en latin, para que no sirvan de tropiezo a los sencillos, ni de peligro a los inocentes" (Claret 1859:111) [but for good reason both questions and answers in such a slippery subject will be given in Latin, so that they do not hinder the simple nor present a danger for the innocent]. Claret himself, in the Llave de oro, uses Latin, for example, when detailing the three ways in which girls might masturbate (Claret 1862b: 83-84). At other times he merely resorts to the ellipsis of suspension points, as in his list of remedies against impurity when he suggests as a final remedy that if the person concerned "touches" him or herself in sleep, they should be dressed in a "camisola de mangas cerradas y atadas al cuello que no ... [sic]" (Claret 1862b: 85) [nightshirt of sleeves closed at the ends and attached to the neck so as to prevent ...].

Monlau's use of Latin appears less related to the need to conceal scabrous material than to the desire to give his words the elevation of authority. In his work on rhetoric, for example, his use of Latin sets out to impress the reader with the high status of the art being imparted, and his own status as the one who imparts. To his definition of grammar and rhetoric he adds a gloss that only serves to impress, not to clarify: "La GRAMATICA es el ars recte, aut bene, loquendi; y la RETORICA es el ars bene dicendi' (Monlau 1843: 3) [GRAMMAR is the ars recte, aut bene, loquendi; and RHETORIC is the ars bene dicendi]. And should simple use of Latin not suffice, he puts the would-be rhetorician into good Classical company: "El retorico necesita tambien grande erudicion, y hasta verdadera ciencia, en todos los ramos del saber humano, porque con todos esta relacionado el arte de bien decir. Bene dicere, quod est scienter et perite et ornate dicere, non habet definitam aliquam regionem cujus terminis septa teneatur, nos dejo escrito el inmortal Ciceron, que era tan buen orador y retorico como filosofo" (Monlau 1843: 6-7) [The rhetorician also has need of much erudition, and even to be fully informed in ail the branches of human knowledge, because the art of speaking well is related to all of them. Bene dicere, quod est scienter et perite et ornate dicere, non habet definitam aliquam regionem cujus terminis septa teneatur, as found in the writings of immortal Cicero, as good an orator and rhetorician as he was philosopher].

In Monlau's 1857 Elementos de higiene privada, his use of Latin is again mainly a device to raise the intellectual tone of his comments. Referring to the passions he adds a gloss: Quien dice pasion dice padecimiento. Las pasiones (animi pathemata, affectus animi) son necesidades organicas sentidas con sobrada violencia (Monlau 1857: 377) [if we speak of passion we refer to suffering. The passions (animi pathemata, affectus animi) are organic needs experienced with great violence]. A further, but related ploy of technical language occurs in his discussion of "animal passions" where he lists possible grades of gluttony: he moves through the eater, the one with a sweet tooth, the man of appetite, the one who gulps things down (all expressed in quite homely and familiar terms) to a series of more technical terms (now drawn from Greek): the antropofago who eats human flesh, the omofago who eats raw flesh, and the polifago who will eat anything. Having exhausted these technical possibilities, he ends his list with the more homely term of borrachez (a homely term denoting drunkenness) (Monlau 1857: 387).

The effects intended or secured by this deployment of technical language are not uniform. In part they establish a secret enclave in the text, a mystery that only the informed will be able to penetrate. Thus to the professional person reading the text, the "difficult bits" confirms their superiority. There is an element of titillation that results, either from ellipses, or the indication that this is a "dangerous area" and thus merits linguistic demarcation. The titillation exists to stimulate both the educated reader who can penetrate the linguistic mystery, and the reader who falls at the fence of technical language. Moreover, since in this period only men could aspire to be priests or doctors, and few women reached a cultural level that permitted them to read Latin, the move into Latin or into technical language results in a "between men" communication. (4)

There is, however, the ploy of treating the audience as if they were part of a professionally related elite, by addressing them in Latin, only to gloss what has been said in highly coloured and emotive terms. This is what happens in Claret's pamphlet Religiosas en sus casas o las hijas del santisimo e inmaculado Corazon de Maria [Nuns in their home, or the daughters of the most holy and immaculate Heart of Mary] (1857), a publication offering instruction for young girls wishing to live a religious life while remaining in the world. Claret addresses himself in part to the young girls in questions, with exhortations such as "Venid, pues, virgenes todas las que os sentis llamadas de Dios a este deliciosisimo claustro ..." (1857: 8) [Come then, all you virgins who feel called by God to this most delicious cloister]. But he also addresses parents, addressing not just fathers but mothers in Latin: "Acordaos, padres, y no olvideis vosotras, madres, lo que dice el Evangelio: Nolite sanctum dare canibus; neque mittatis margaritas vestras ante porcos: No deis las cosas santas a los perros, ni echeis vuestras perlas delante de los credos" [Remember, fathers, and do not forget, mothers, what the Gospel says: Nolite sanctum dare canibus; neque mittatis margaritas vestras ante porcos: do not give holy things to the dogs, nor cast your pearls before swine]. The function of the Latin here is two-fold. It is used as a signal that the parents (and in flattering manner this includes the mothers) are superior beings. In using a language that they will associate with religious services (the citation is from Matthew 7:6), the intention is without doubt that they should respond with an automatic attitude of obedience. Furthermore, Claret reveals his intention by providing an instant translation of his Latin. Lest they should fail to understand, he follows this up with a series of rhetorical question that he answers in lurid detail:

Y ?no es entregar lo santo a los perros, cuando entregais vuestras hijas candidas e inocentes a esos hombres viciosos, que tanto abundan en nuestros infelices y desgraciados dias; a esos hombres jugadores, iracundos, blasfemos, glotones, y peores que los perros rabiosos, de cuya sana son victimas vuestras hijas, sus infelices esposas? ?no es echar las preciosas margaritas ante los cerdos, cuando entregais vuestras candorosas hijas a esos hombres embrutecidos, que, por mas que se hayan casado, no dejan eor eso sus antiguos tratos y abominables vicios? !Ah! !que triste cosa no sera para vosotros el saber por las amargas quejas y el acerbo dolor del corazon de vuestras hijas, los tratos e infidelidades de los maridos a quienes las entregateis! !que desgarramiento de corazon para estas victimas al tener que servir a unos hombres que, segun la expresion de san Pedro, estan revolcandose como cerdos en el lodazal de la impureza! (Claret 1857: 11-12)

[And, is it not handing over what is holy to dogs when you hand over your pure and innocent daughters to these vicious men who are so abundant in our sad and wretched day, to these men who are gamblers, raging, blasphemous, gluttonous, and worse than rabid dogs? Is it not casting precious pearls before swine when you hand over your pure daughters to these brutish men who, notwithstanding the fact that they have married, do not give up their former contacts and abominable vices? Ah, what a sad thing will it not be for you to know through the bitter complaints and the harsh heartache of your daughters of the dalliance and infidelities of the husbands you entrusted them to! How it must tear apart the heart of these victims to have to serve men who, in the words of Saint Peter, are wallowing in the mud of impurity!]

This combination of a Latin intended to induce awe and obedience, and a dramatic gloss upon the dangers that are to be avoided by a life of containment (whether it be through the observance of hygienic or religious practice) presents a tension that is common to the majority of works of this kind. It was clearly important to the professionals concemed that they know how to exert control over the unruly or the unhealthy, and the structures of rhetoric, whether in the overall form of their discourse, or in the balancing and contrasting of different sections of discourse, were a prime tool in their control.

A different strategy of rhetorical control was to subject the listener to syntactical complexity. An example of this is to be found in the lecture, "De la educacion higienico-moral de la mujer," given by Dr Gine y Partagas in 1862 to the Sociedad de Amigos de la Instruccion in Barcelona. Serialized in El pabellon medico, this lecture offers little or nothing in the way of concrete advice as to how woman is to be educated. The speaker is concerned in the first instance with the establishment of his own position of authority, which he essays not with knowledge of his subject, but with his command of classical (and by this date, outmoded) rhetorical structures which obfuscate more than they enable comprehension. His opening sentence runs thus:
 Senores: Cuando, a la luz de las ultimas arjentadas rafagas
 que despidio al morir el siglo decimo octavo, el juego
 cabalistico de los tiempos volco a los abismos de lo pasado los
 postreros colosos de una civilizacion decrepita y encanijada por
 el fuego del sentimiento, que despues de fundir sus propias
 entranas, abraso sus ultimos vestidos; cuando el hombre,
 sintiendose soberano en el uso de su derecho, quiso tejer con
 sus libertas manos el lazo social que debia vincularle, no solo a
 la familia, sino al mundo entero, desde entonces proclamado
 gran patria de todos los que en Dios somo intimos hermanos;
 entonces los mas intrincados problemas de la sociedad, por
 largo tiempo condenados al olvido, desde donde apenas los
 columbraba algun filosofo, impulsado por ese poderoso resorte
 templado en el fuego de una revolucion, que ... aparecieron a la
 faz del mundo moral para recibir el rayo fecundante de ese astro
 incandescente, cuyo brillo de un momento dejo, sin embargo,
 vivisimas fajas de una aurora boreal, aun mas brillante que la
 que alumbra las interminables noches de los cfrculos polares,
 para que la humanidad quedara consolada y llena de esperanza
 en un porvenir sereno y prefiado de gloria (1862: 578)

 [Gentlemen: when by the light of the last silvery gusts that
 the eighteenth century emitted as it expired, the cabbalistic
 play of the times hurled into the abysses of the past the last
 colossi of a civilization rendered decrepit and grey-haired by
 the fires of feeling, which, having melted its own entrails,
 burned its last garments; when man, feeling himself sovereign
 in the exercise of his rights, wanted to weave with his freed
 hands the social bond that would link him not just to the
 family, but to the entire world, which from that date was
 proclaimed the great fatherland of all those of us who are
 intimate brothers in God; then the most complex problems of
 society, long consigned to oblivion, barely ever to be made
 out by some philosopher, moved to do so by that powerful
 spring tempered in the fire of a revolution, came to the
 surface of the moral world to receive the fertilizing light of
 that incandescent star, whose brilliance of a moment was able
 to leave notwithstanding the live swathes of an aurora
 borealis, even more brilliant than that which illuminates the
 interminable nights of the polar regions, so that humanity
 might be given consolation and be rendered full of hope for a
 serene future, pregnant with glory.]

The first half of this lecture, published 28 December 1862, is completely self-absorbed, pursuing the convoluted lines of expression of the type quoted above. If the aim were to lull the audience to sleep, it would be extremely effective. A vague and apparently erudite historical summary of woman, in which she is placed in the context of Roman matrons, is the nearest that the speaker comes to his subject.

Finally, however, he produces an evocation of the creation of woman as the helpmate for Adam: she is given to him as one like himself but "mas afectuosa, mas amable, mas sensible, mas inclinada a la pasion, menos vigorosa, no tan inteligente, todo lo cual es como decir mas espiritual, y al propio tiempo mis impresionable por la material" (580) [more affectionate, more amiable, more sensitive, more inclined to passion, less vigorous, not so intelligent, all of which is to say that she is more spiritual, and at the same time more given to being impressionable by the material world]. Suddenly he speaks with greater clarity, markedly greater syntactic simplicity, as he utters the standard terms of the "angel of the house" to define woman, presenting her as glorified because she was softer than man, yet still risky because more bound to the material world.

In the opening words of the text of 7 January 1863, Gine y Partagas reveals his hand finally. This "versatilidad del caracter de la mujer" [versatility of the character of woman] is "lo que conviene mantener en sus justos limites, y sobre todo no acrecentarla" (1863: 8) [what we must maintain within its proper limits, and above all, not increase]. From this point, as he elaborates on the dangers that woman's imagination poses not just for her but for the society about her, his speech becomes more direct, and suddenly closer to the medical and theological texts that have been quoted earlier in this essay. There is every danger if woman is not contained:
 Asi, cuando en tiempo oportuno no se ha opuesto un dique
 asaz poderoso para detener el impulso de ese cauce de
 sensibilidad femenina, numerosas degeneraciones de su
 psicologia y trastornos no menos profundos de la inervacion
 visceral no tardan en presentarse, para evidenciar que no
 impunemente se abusa de la sensibilidad, y cumin dificil es
 restablecer la quebrantada armonia de los fisico con lo moral.
 (1863: 8)

 [Thus when at an opportune moment there has not been
 erected a dam capable enough of holding back the surge of
 this torrent of feminine sensibility, in no time are produced
 numerous types of degeneration in her psychology, and no
 less profound disturbances in visceral irritation,
 demonstrating that one does not abuse sensitivity with
 impunity, and then how difficult is it to re-establish the
 ruptured harmony of the physical with the moral.]

What is ironic about Gine y Partagas's position is that his own eventual writing history includes, besicles the predictable collection of speeches and publications within the field of public health, some fictional writings that would without doubt have contributed to the encouragement of fantasy in a delicate mind. His works Un viaje a Cerebropolis: Ensayo humoristico de dinamica cerebral (1884) and La Familia de los Onkos. Novela o fantasia de cardcter clinico (1888) are either written tongue-in-cheek, or conceivably intended only for a male readership presumed to be more stable. Curiously, Claret's comments on the education of women in Iris pamphlet on the matter (1862a) are far more practical, less inflammatory, and recommend specific skills to be taught in relation to care of the self and the household, as well as the virtues of humility, chastity, devotion, prudence, patience, charity, and industriousness. This is a deviation from the combination of the four cardinal virtues of Prudence, Temperance, Justice, and Fortitude, and the three theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Love: woman was evidently not expected to be strong, but to be industrious, and justice is out of her sphere of action.

Angel Pulido Fernandez, writing in 1876, produces a discourse that is far less flamboyant than that of Gine y Partagas above, yet subscribing to the same belief that the function of the doctor is to advise about how to control conditions of unruliness. While pursuing an agenda remarkably similar to that of Gine y Partages he does so to far greater effect by a simplicity of approach. The difference is arguably attributable to the audience. Gine y Partagas has one he feels he needs to impress with his authority, a set of peers who have to be swayed by a command of difficult structures rather than by an understanding of complex material. Pulido has no pretensions with regard to his public: his aim is to disseminate what (to his mind) is vital advice. His paragraphs are brief, often of one sentence only, and he uses--to some effect--simple contrasts and parallels. Thus, contrasting boys and girls he moves back and forth: "El nino es, pot lo comtin, turbulento, discolo, irascible y avasallador; todo lo destroza, y vive satisfecho ejerciendo cierta tiranfa entre lo de su edad" [the boy is, in general, unruly, disobedient, irritable and domineering; he destroys everything, and gains satisfaction exercising a certain tyranny over those of his age], while "La nina, por el contrario, timida, flexible como debil junco a la presion de sus hermanitos, concentra su inocente y angelical carino en una muneca, que viste, mima y besa con encantadora temura" (Jagoe et al 1998: 411) [The girl, by contrast, timid, giving in, as a delicate reed, to the pressure of her brothers, focuses her innocent and angelical affection on a doll, which she dresses, caresses, and kisses with enchanting tenderness].

When writing of reading and its dangers, he adopts an extremely simple but effective structure. His outline of the three requisites to be fulfilled if reading is to be useful and "hygienic" is direct. He lists the following:

1. it should be moderate;

2. it should not overly excite the spirit;

3. it should enlighten the mind with sage maxims (cited in Jagoe et al 1998: 415).

This contrasts dramatically with his presentation of an example two pages further on. He refers back to a "sensitive young woman" he has spoken of earlier. Setting the scene as if he were writing one of the romantic novels she is undoubtedly reading, he launches into a vivid prose that invites the reader in:
 Pero fijemonoso bien en ella, porque, lejos de presentar el
 semblante palido y triste que de ordinario la caracteriza, tine
 ahora sus mejillas un hermoso color de rosa, su mirada
 chispea con el fuego de vivo enardecimiento cerebral, sus
 labios entreabiertos y halitosos exhalan de vez en cuando
 blandos suspiros, su tierno seno se dilate agitado por
 tumultuosas palpitaciones, que se dejan escuchar como lejano
 martilleo de misteriosos ciclopes.

 [But let us pay close attention to her, because, far from
 presenting the pale and sad appearance that normally
 characterizes her, now a beautiful pink hue colours her
 cheeks, her gaze sparldes with the fire of a fierce cerebral
 fever, her half-parted lips from time to time allow soft sighs
 to escape, her tender bosom swells as it is agitated by strong
 palpitations, which can be heard like the distant hammering
 of a band of mysterious Cyclops.]

The setting becomes more and more dramatic, and the phrases listing the momentous features of the night surrounding the young woman are piled on one another:

La soledad y el silencio que la rodean, la muerte de la noche que amortigua la vida de todo lo exterior, la influencia de la luz sobre los ojos y el sensorio cerebral, la temperatura ardiente y fatigosa del aposento, las escenas rebuscadas que ofrece la novela, brillantemente descritas por la ardiente fantasia del autor; todo despierta y mantiene tirante, en vibraci6n extrema, en eretismo funcionai, la irritabilidad de su sistema nervioso (Jagoe et al 1998: 417).

[The solitude and silence that surround her, the deathly night that dampens down the life of everything outside, the effect of the light on her eyes and the sensory organs of the brain, the fiery and exhausting temperature of the chamber, the extravagant scenes offered by the novel, brilliantly described by the ardent imagination of the author; all of this awakens and maintains the irritable capacity of her nervous system in a sense of tension, an extreme vibration, an excitation of all the organs.]

Pulido effects two deft transitions here: he moves from the setting in which the girl reads the novel to the setting of which she reads, both settings being united in their connotations of burning and fire; second, he stands back and makes his "doctor's observation" on what happens to her nervous system, maintaining a tension in the sentence in the original that is impossible to reproduce in translation, between the inception of the idea of disturbance, through a series of elaborations of how she is disturbed, to the final naming of what is disturbed, namely her nervous system, or rather its capacity to be aroused and upset.

This text by Pulido comes some fifteen to twenty years after the majority of the other texts discussed in this essay. Should we infer that the passing of time has brought about progress in the writing styles of these professionals who want to control and persuade a (potentially gullible) public? My last two examples demonstrate that "progress" is an uncertain concept in this area of discourse. The examples come from two quite different texts. The first is a speech on Darwinism by Genaro Alas, delivered in the Casino of Oviedo in 1887; the second is from the publication of a pious group, the Hijas de Maria of 1897.

Alas' speech, strictly speaking, falls outside the complex field shared by religion and pastoral theology. Yet to speak of Darwinism was to speak of concerns of both clerics (because of its implications for doctrine on creation) and of doctors (because of its implications in relation to the body and degeneration). For this reason, Alas can be considered to be speaking in the same area of intellectual anxiety as the other writers previously cited. He is also speaking in the same social context as Gine y Partagas had done. His prose is a model of orderliness: he sets out his intentions, and signals the order in which he will deal with problems; he situates what he bas to say in relation to both science and theology. He declares that he has three parts to his lecture: an exposition of the Darwinian concept of creation, a demonstration of how Darwinism is compatible with religious belief, and a demonstration of how Darwinism is superior to other scientific theories in the field (Alas 1887: 6). He wants his audience to come out of the lecture convinced that Darwinism is neither necessarily materialist nor atheist, and that it is not the source for wild imaginings. His approach is transparent:

Algo he vacilado respecto al orden en que deberia tratar estos tres puntos; y un momento hubo en que crei necesario dar la prioridad a la demostracion de la compatibilidad del darwinismo con la ortodoxia catolica; pero despues reflexione que esta misma demostracion serra mas concluyente cuando ya conocierais en sus rasgos generales la teoria cientifica; y que por otra parte tal apresuramiento revelaria en mi poca confianza en vuestra tolerancia e ilustracion. (Alas 1887: 7)

[I have pondered for some time the order in which I should deal with these three points; and there was a moment when I thought it was necessary to give priority to proving that Darwinism was compatible with Catholic orthodoxy; but then I thought that this proof would be more conclusive if you already knew the general outlines of the scientific theory involved; and besides that such haste on my part would show that I had little confidence in your tolerance and level of culture.]

But he is also master of matching his rhythm to what he wants to present in his subject matter. He uses the image of a journey for the discussion to come:

Y ahora, senores, tenemos el tiempo tasado y la jornada es larga; no os brindo con uno de esos viajes de recreo, a que nos tiene acostumbrado el senor Estrada, marchando a capricho, ya a buen paso, ya perezosamente contemplando las bellezas del paisaje cercano o admirando efectos de luz en el horizonte; tampoco haremos una de esas excursiones cientificas en que nos guiaban Buylla o Posada, derechos si al objeto, pero tomando notas circunstanciadas de cuanto pudiera interesamos; nuestro viaje serti como de negocios; en posta; procuraremos caminar siempre de dia, en plena luz, de modo que el paisaje nos quede bastante grabado para reconocerle si volvemos atransitarlo, para inspiraros acaso deseo de visitarlo mas despacio y con mejor guia. (Alas 1887: 7-8)

[And now, gentlemen, we have our time measured out for us, and a long day ahead; I do not offer you one of those recreational excursions, of the type Sr. Estrada has got us used to, walking at our whim, sometimes at a good pace, at other times looking at the beauties of the immediate landscape or looking at the effects of the light on the horizon; nor shall we go on one of those scientific excursions Buylla or Posada used to take us on, going directly to the site in question, but taking notes en route of anything that might interest us; our journey will be like a businessman's; well-directed; we will aire at travelling always by the full light of day, so that the landscape will be imprinted well enough on out minds so that we will recognize it if we return toit, or perhaps will prompt us into visiting it more slowly, and with another guide.]

It is striking that his use of simple imagery (a journey, a tree, a book) is clarificatory rather than condescending. Like other writers mentioned earlier, he uses the occasional Latin tag, such as Bacon's ars inveniendi cum iinventis adolescit (1887: 16), but this is not to hide knowledge from the innocent as it is preceded by a gloss, as is the use of lusus naturae (1887: 16) preceded by the explanation of 'juegos de la naturaleza' [play of nature]. As a yardstick for the rhetorical excess of other writers cited in this essay, Alas serves well. His published works, unlike those of the medical writers cited earlier, contain no examples of literature or rhetoric.

My final example from 1897, however, suggests that the rhetorical procedures that characterize works of pastoral theology earlier in the century continue to exist in related fields. The Anales de las Hijas de Maria are addressed, as were Claret's Religiosas en sus casas, to young girls aspiring to a life of saintliness within the home. Some of the articles are masterpieces of titillation, sharing with earlier religious writings the belief that if you are to preach avoidance it must be on a basis of repugnance. The journal offers examples from the saints to the young girls it presumes as its readers. There is an established tradition within medieval hagiography that some lives of saints are presented for admiration rather than imitation, a tradition to which this journal theoretically subscribes. It comments therefore in the article "Medios para conservar la virginidad: la firmeza" (Ways to conserve one's virginity: firmness), when giving examples of saintly men who mortified their flesh in violent manner, that these are examples for admiration not imitation. Yet these examples are given clearly enough to appeal to the imagination of their readers, offered not as examples that are given, but as examples that might be given, but which are withheld:
 Bien podria referiros la accion heroica de un San Francisco,
 que se revolcaba desnudo entre la nieve y el hielo para apagar
 por este medio los incendios molestos de la carne; tambien
 podria contaros el valor de un San Benito, quien sintiendose
 combatido de la concupi-scencia, se arrojo por las espinas y
 abrojos hasta salir lastimado y todo ensangrentado, para domar
 de este modo los impulsos de una naturaleza excesivamente
 inclinada a los inmundos placers. (71-2)

 [I could easily tell you of the heroic action of Saint
 Francis, who used to roll naked in ice and snow to temper the
 disturbing fires of the flesh; I could also tell you of the
 bravery of San Benito who, feeling himself attacked by the
 desires of the flesh, hurled himself into brambles and scrub
 until he emerged all bloody, intending by this to master the
 desires of a nature too much given to worldly pleasure.]

A further example, apparently closer to the condition of the journal's readers, appears in "Medios para conservar la virginidad: el sufrimiento" ["Ways to conserve one's virginity: suffering"]: the journal offers an example for admiration rather than imitation. The story of Lucia, a young girl courted by a rich and powerful lord, is recounted in detail. She resists his advances, and when she asks her ministers if there is any particular part of her that the lord values, she is told that he desires her eyes. At this point she addresses her eyes, with a doubly-oriented speech that is (apparently) directed at her eyes, and yet is cast in a rhetorical frame that undoubtedly is directed at the reader:
 !Luego, ojos mios, sois delincuentes! Es verdad; yo
 conozco la modestia y candor de vuestro mirar, y nada de
 vuestra accion inquieta mi corazon ni remuerde mi
 conciencia; pero sin embargo, no me pareceis muy inocentes,
 pues encendisteis desordenadamente el fuego impuro en el
 corazon de un hombre, de quien he querido siempre ser mais
 aborrecido que amada. Id, pot lo tanto, a expiar el mal que
 inadvertidamente habeis ocacionado, y con vuestra sangre
 apagad las llamas lujuriosas que habeis encendido. (134)

 [So then, my eyes, you are delinquent! It is true; I know
 the modesty and purity of your gaze, and nothing in your
 activity disturbs my heart nor causes my consciousness to be
 remorseful; and yet, it seems to me you are not so innocent,
 since in disorderly manner you have lit the impure tire of the
 heart of a man, who I had desired would hate me rather than
 love me. Go, therefore, to expiate the evil that you have
 inadvertently caused, and with your blood quench the lustful
 flames that you have aroused)

Lucia's cultured speech belongs in a romantic novel, yet here it is brought into play for a cause that is both religious and ascetic. This seems the ultimate irony. It appears to present the "correct" content of the ascetic life, but with a gesture, dressed in the full panoply of conceptista imagery, that sets the event within the life of literature. It is a text indeed that stands to inflame the imagination of the young.


In this essay I have chosen a relatively confined window within the nineteenth century in Spain. What is striking about the texts cited and referred to is the degree to which they form a corpus. This obtains, I would suggest, not only within the two disciplines of medicine and pastoral theology, but across those disciplines. In the case of medical texts, one of the reasons for this flexibility and, as it were, cultural outreach, is the nature of the men who wrote them: versatile, literary, broadly educated. More mysterious is the case of those who wrote the religious texts. The education within a seminary was not that enjoyed by the medical writers. Lannon describes the training within a seminary as limited, noting that even when the subjects covered were broadened, as in Valencia in 1893, when anthropology, political economy, Hebrew and Greek were introduced so as to give priests the material to 'combat determinism, anarchism and socialism, and rationalist interpretations of scripture, respectively, the reasoning behind such reform was defensive (Lannon 1987: 95). Yet we have the evident familiarity of Claret and others with a range of medical texts, largely but not exclusively coming from France, and which provided much of the bread and butter of their pastoral utterances. They appear to have had a corpus of recognized texts that they used for enlightenment, and from which they culled ideas to spread further among the clergy (if not among the members of their congregations).

This reading goes some way to explaining the presence of medical texts and medical terminology in the discourse of pastoral theology. The parallel (or equal but contrary) movement in medical texts, by which religious terminology was borrowed in order to make the medical injunctions stick more firmly in the minds of the patients, is somewhat different. What priests borrowed from medicine were ideas and concepts; what doctors borrowed from pastoral theology was the apparatus of emotive discourse. That is, those used to performing in the pulpit had a range of rhetorical tools at their disposition, a practice in having deployed emotional terms, and used structures that imposed their power, that the medical men might envy.

How far did this change, with time, if at all? My earliest text was from 1857, Monlau's Elementos de higiene privada [Elements of private hygiene], (5) and my latest the religious periodical Anales de las Hijas de Maria of 1897. It would be tempting to speculate about whether there is some element of development in this period of forty years. If anything, as the texts from the Anales de las Hijas de Maria illustrate, the development was towards a greater degree of public melodrama, while retaining a conceptual consistency with texts from earlier in the century. If we take the speech by Genaro Alas, by contrast, that suggests that scientific discourse at least (if not medical discourse), had learned greater simplicity of expression, while still retaining the useful structures of rhetoric. And the final major contrast that one can make is between the tone of confidence and aim of enlightenment encompassed by the example from Alas, while the characteristic note of the Hijas de Maria is of excited melodrama. The reading offered by these late religious texts would have fitted precisely into the framework of recreation felt by doctors earlier in the century to be unhealthy. Whether these are more than circumstantial coincidences and differences is beyond the scope of this essay, and will require a broader and more in-depth survey.

Cambridge University

Works Cited

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Alas, Genaro (1887). El Darwinismo: Conferencias pronunciadas en el Casino de Oviedo en los dias 25 de febrero, 4 y 11 de marzo de 1887. Edition by F. Garcia Sarria, Exeter Hispanic Texts no. 21. Exeter UP, 1978.

Aldaraca, Bridget (1989). The Medical Construction of the Feminine Subject in Nineteenth-Century Spain. Cultural and Historical Grounding for Hispanic and Luso-Brazilian Feminist Literary Criticism. H. Vidal. Minneapolis: Minneapolis Institute for the Study of Ideologies and Literatures: 395-413.

-- (1991). Galdos and the Ideology of Domesticity in Spain: North Carolina Studies in the Romance Languages and Literatures. U of North Carolina P.

-- (1992). "El caso de Ana O: Histeria y sexualidad en La Regenta." Asclepio 42(2): 299-309.

Anon. "Medios para conservar la virginidad: la firmeza." Anales de las hijas de Maria 3 (1) (February 1897), 71-80.

--. 'Medios para conservar la virginidad: el sufrirmento'. Anales de las hijas de Maria 3 (2) (May 1897), 131-7.

Claret y Clara, Antonio Maria (1857). Religiosas en sus casas o las hijas del santisimo e inmaculado Corazon de Maria. Paris: Libreria de Rosa.

--, ed. (1859). Nuevo manojito de flores o sea recopilacion de doctrinas para los confesores. Barcelona.

-- (1862). Instruccion que debe tener la mujer para desempenar bien la mision que el Todopoderoso le ha confiado. Barcelona: Libreria Religiosa.

-- (1862b). Llave de oro, o serie de reflexiones que, para abrir el corazon cerrado de los pecadores ofrece a los confesores nuevos el Excmo e Ilmo. Sr. D. Antonio Maria Claret, Arzobispo de Cuba. Barcelona: Libreria Religiosa.

Debreyne, P.J.C. (1851). Ensayo sobre la teologfa moral: considerada en sus relaciones con la fisiologia y la medicina: obra destinada especialmente al clero. Barcelona: Imprenta de Pons y Cia.

-- (1851). Estudio de la muerte, o iniciacion del sacerdote en el conocimiento practico de las enfermedades graves y mortales. Barcelona: Gorchs.

-- (1852). El sacerdote y el medico ante la sociedad. Barcelona: Pons y Ca.

Descuret, J.B.F. (1841). La medecine des passions, ou les Passions considerees dans leurs rapports avec les maladies, les lois et la religion. Paris: Labe.

Gine y Partagas, Juan. "De la educacion higienico-moral de la mujer." El pabellon medico, 2 (75), 578-80 (28 December 1862); 3 (76), 8-9 (7 January 1863).

--. La Familia de los Onkos. Novela o fantasia de caracter clinico escrita ... por el Dr. D. Histogenes Micolini ... Traducida del volapuk por J. Gine y Partagas. Barcelona: "La Academia, 1888.

-- (1884). Un viaje a Cerebropolis. Ensayo humoristico de dinamica cerebral. Barcelona: Imprenta Sucesores de Rivadeneyra, 1884.

Guerra y Alarcon, Antonio. (1884). Curso completo de declamacion, o enciclopedia de los conocimientos que necesitan adquirir los que se dedican al arte escenico. Madrid, Maroto e hijos.

Jagoe, Catherine, Blanco, Aida and Enriquez de Salamanca, Cristina (1998). La mujer en los discursos de genero: textos y contextos en el siglo XIX. Barcelona: Icaria.

Jagoe, Catherine (1998). "Sexo y genero en la medicina del siglo XIX," 305-67 in Jagoe et al, La mujer en los discursos de genero.

Lannon, Frances (1987). Privilege, Persecution, and Prophecy: The Catholic Church in Spain 1975-1975. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Monlau, Pedro Felipe. (1853). Higiene del matrimonio o el libro de los casados. Revised and trans, into French as Hygiene de la Generation. Le Mariage dans ses DeVoirs, ses Rapports et ses Effets Conjugaux au point de vue legal, hygienique, physiologique et moral. Paris.

-- (1856). Diccionario Etimologico de la lengua Castellana: Ensayo, precedido de unos rudimentos de Etimologia. Madrid: Imp. M. Rivadeneyra.

-- (1857). Elementos de higiene privada, o arte de conservar la salud del individuo. Madrid: Rivadeneyra. Second Edition

-- (1864). Elementos de literatura, o trataod de Retorica y Poetica: para uso de los institutos y colegios de segunda ensenanza. Madrid: Publicidad.

Pulido, Angel (1876). Bosquejos medico-sociales para la mujer. Madrid: Imp. de Victor Saiz.

Sinclair, Alison (1998). Dislocations of Desire: Gender, Identity, and Strategy in "La Regenta." North Carolina Studies in the Romance Languages and Literatures. U of North Carolina P.

Valis, N. (1992). On Monstrous Birth: Leopoldo Alas's La Regenta. Naturalism in the European Novel: New Critical Perspectives. B. Nelson. New York, Berg. 191-209.

-- (1994). "Aspects of an Improper Birth: Clarin's La Regenta," 96126 in Mark I. Millington and Paul Julian Smith, eds., New Hispanisms: Literature, Culture, Theory. Ottawa Hispanic Studies 15. Ottawa: Dovehouse.

-- (2000). "Hysteria and Historical Context in La Regenta." Revista Hispanica Moderna 53 (2) (December 2000): 324-51.


(1) All translations, unless otherwise indicated, are my own.

(2) Arguably "humano" here could also be read as "humane."

(3) The French edition of 1864 is even more explicit: "Etude de la mort, ou, Initiation du pretre a la connaissance pratique des maladies graves et mortelles, et de tout ce qui, sous ce rapport, peut se rattacher a l'exercice difficile du saint ministere: ouvrage specialement destine aux ecclesiastiques qui ont charge d'ames." [Study of death, or initiation of the priest into the practical knowledge of serious and mortal illnesses, and of all that, within this connexion, relates to the difficult exercise of holy ministry: work particularly intended for clergy who have the charge of souls.]

(4) An example of this occurs in La Regenta by Alas. Here the use of a Latin tag by the doctor to confuse Victor Ozores when he informs him of the possibility that his wife masturbates will inevitably be understood by the priest who overhears the conversation, since the tag comes from a well-known work of pastoral theology. See Sinclair 1998, 166-69.

(5) Although the obvious translation of "hygiene" is hygiene, the range implied by this is often better covered by "health." The case for not using "health," however, resides in the emphasis among "hygienists" on cleansing and maintaining clean as a means to secure individual and communal health. "Higiene mental" is normally translated as "mental health."
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Author:Sinclair, Alison
Publication:Nineteenth-Century Prose
Date:Mar 22, 2005
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