Chronicles of Pain — Mujica
By Barbara Mujica | Published on November 10, 2021
Traditional medical men tended to focus primarily on the body, especially, when writing about women, on the uterus, as the primary source of physical and psychological discomfort. They believed that both physical and mental disease were the result of fluctuations in bodily fluids, called humors. In order to cure an ailment, conventional Galenic doctors typically recommended a change in diet and performed a phlebotomy, or bloodletting. A common diagnosis for women was melancholia, which was associated with fragility, disequilibrium, loss of control, nervousness, and excessive emotionalism. Melancholia in women was routinely described as hysteria, also known as “woman’s disease” (hysterika means “uterus” in Greek), a manifestation of which was inarticulateness. Any disease, from a migraine to an ingrown toenail could be attributed to hysteria.
However, women religious rarely discussed the uterus, except when considering issues such as menstruation. Instead, they saw pain as a spiritual experience that enabled them to share Christ’s suffering. Rather than conventional medicalreatises, they looked to the writings of “mystical medics,” notably Bernardino de Laredo (1482–1540), who saw the body as a vehicle for spiritual enlightenment.
What I Would Have Liked to Say but Couldn’t
Unfortunately, publishers impose restrictions on length. When writing an article for a book or journal, one always winds up leaving out much interesting research. In the case of “Chronicles of Pain,” I would have liked to include much more extensive accounts of the writings early modern medics, in particular, those of Alonso de Santa Cruz, Girolamo Mercuriale, Pietro Andrea Mattioli, and the fascinating Olivia Sabuco. I would also have liked to explore the writings of a greater variety of women. However, I am thrilled that this book is coming out and wish it a long and prosperous journey. Many thanks to the editors!
Intellectual Provocation
Readers will discover that a confluence of currents—Christian, Jewish, and Muslim medicine, religious beliefs about possession and sorcery, other kinds of superstition, folk beliefs from Europe and the Americas—influenced health practices in the early modern world. Thus, this book will encourage scholars and students to look at early modern health practices in a new way. Most importantly, it illustrates to what extent approaches to healthcare were gendered. Conventional Galenists essentially reduced women to their uteruses and saw both physical and mental illness as a manifestation of a deviant womb. However, gender was not the only determinant of how illness was viewed. Writing this article has been an eye-opener for me, as it has led me to delve more deeply into the teachings of the “mystical medic,” Bernardino de Laredo, who developed a complex system thought on the mystical aspect of illness. For Laredo, the spiritual could be reached only through the corporeal. Through sophisticated medical reasoning, he showed that the body was the starting point for self-knowledge and spiritual meditation. For women religious such as Teresa de Ávila, this approach to pain was deeply meaningful. I think this book will change radically the direction of early modern healthcare studies.
