| My dissertation argues that late medieval conduct manuals were a direct reaction to the social upheavals of the late fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries, and that their programs of self-improvement were an effort to contain and re-channel ambition and discontent. Specifically, I demonstrate that their writers sought to maintain social stability by either minimizing or exaggerating the possibility of social mobility, and packaging both programs within the attractive prospect of creating one's own identity. In so doing, the writers of conduct manuals created their own identities, constructing personae of moral authority.;In my first chapter, "Roaring Girls?" I show how the writers of three fourteenth-century French conduct manuals tried to reconcile young female readers to their arranged marriages and limited career options by painting a frightening portrait of the alternative and offering covert authority through outward submissiveness. The first, the Livre du chevalier de la tour landry, narrates harsh penalties for women who break the physical codes of virtue. The writer warns his young daughters that women who speak loudly, toss their heads, or let their gazes wander frighten away eligible bachelors or wind up in loveless or even abusive marriages. Discreet women make better marriages and win over unaffectionate husbands through their docility. The Menagier de Paris's tone is kinder, as he is writing for a young wife, but although he attempts to inspire pride in her position as the supervisor of a large and busy household, he still expects her to maintain a public physical decorum of restrained gaze and movement. Christine de Pisan's Livre de Trois Virtu prescribes behavior for every rank from princesses to peasants (who could hardly have been expected to read it), maintaining that there is dignity in every estate if the woman fulfills her role properly. I demonstrate that in all three books, the writers depict limited opportunity for social advancement, but warn readers that women who behave badly can suffer precipitous social descents. However, women who obey the rules can gain authority over servants and households, the respect of their communities, and even the ability to influence their husbands in subtle and tactful ways.;In my second chapter, "Good Knight, Sweet Prince," I demonstrate how fourteenth-century French books aimed at male readers offer similar advice to keep one's place and rise slowly if it all, despite the seemingly greater opportunities for men. Geoffroi de Charny's Book of Chivalry proposes a hierarchy of chivalrous merit based on motive rather than hereditary rank: the man who practices arms for the sake of glory is superior to the man who does so to win a lady, but the second man is superior to mercenaries. Geoffroi must paint an attractive portrait of chivalry to readers who know that it is no longer an express path to knighthood (Geoffroi himself won his spurs only posthumously), and he must also remind leaders to speak with their men and inspire them with courage and trust, rather than dismissing them as cannon fodder. Christine de Pisan's Livre du corps de policie, like her Livre de Trois Virtu, urges its putative audience (extending from rulers to rural laborers) to fill their assigned spheres in life honorably, rather than seeking to change them. She, too, wishes employers from prince to petit bourgeois to praise and value their underlings in order to foster loyalty and trust rather than resentment. I demonstrate how all the writers in my first two chapters are trying to reinforce an already shaky feudal hierarchy by positing that if individuals of all ranks play their roles, the system can still work.;In my third chapter, "In English and in wryting of our tonge," I show how English conduct manuals writers, far from denying the fluidity of social roles, nearly overstate it. The eponymous heroine of Capgrave's Life of St. Katherine abandons her role as earthly leader to become a saint in heaven, but in the process displays the verbal tricks of a lawyer and the sharp tongue of a common scold. Peter Idley's Instructions to His Son dispenses with the code of chivalry altogether, advising the reader to avoid all conflict, physical or legal, and pursue advancement and financial security through social connections and industry. Even two English translations of earlier French texts show a new English concept of nobility as something that can be acquired through noble words and thoughts, rather than a purely inherited rank that is demonstrated through physical conduct. The Body of Policye, a translation of Corps de policie attributed to Anthony Woodville, sticks to Christine de Pisan's phrasing almost word-for-word, except on the topic of foul language, which Woodville expands and emphasizes. The Book of the Knight of the Tower, William Caxton's translation of the Livre du chevalier de la tour landry, tones down the crudeness and sarcastic tone of the original to provide readers with a more dignified role model. I argue that both Woodville and Caxton emphasize rhetoric as a learnable noble quality over physical nobility because both have benefited from very recent advancement in the world: Woodville, from his sister's royal marriage, and Caxton, in his spectacular rise from mercer's apprentice to the protege of King Edward IV and the Duchess of Burgundy. |
