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Lilian R. Furst, Ed. Women Healers &
Physicians: Climbing a Long Hill.
Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 1997. 274p.
Ann Owens Weekes
University of Arizona
This eclectic, wide-ranging collection
of essays, drawing from medical texts and literature, charts the
uphill struggle of women physicians from medieval and Renaissance
Europe to nineteenth/twentieth-century Britain, the United States,
and Australia. Divided into two parts, the first concentrating
on the relationship between religion, magic, and medicine, and
the second on the emergence of professionalism in the nineteenth
century, the collection does not attempt an historical overview,
but chronicles outstanding, often neglected, examples of the struggles
faced by individual women physicians and women physicians in general,
as a result of church, state, and educational restrictions which
formed the basis of social and cultural prejudice against women
doctors.
Referring to accounts of individual
women healers and remedies in early medical manuals, Debra L.
Stoudt illustrates the changing role of the church and of women
healers in medieval Germany in the first essay. Disease not being
understood, its treatment was largely the church's realm in the
early middle ages, and medical accounts show men and women alike
treating illness with charms and herbs. However, Stoudt notes
that Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179) is the only woman whose
knowledge of medicine is undisputed and well documented. With
the establishment of universities, and the licensing of healers,
women were excluded from an equal role in medicine, but Stoudt
asserts that women's own changing spirituality also played a part:
the late middle ages saw illness as a punishment or trial from
God, acceptance of which brought one closer to Him.
Illustrating the marginalization
of women as healers, Stoudt's essay sets the stage for the next
four, which examine women's role in relation to medicine in medieval
and Renaissance texts. Nancy P. Nenno's well-supported essay
argues that wide-spread ambivalence to the woman healer, a necessary
figure in caring for the poor, was based on the source of the
healer's power; women's healing relied on little-understood herbs
and could thus be linked to magic. This suspicion of women's
power, at a time when the state began intervening in medicine,
is, she asserts, the basis of the ambivalent portraits of Feimurgan
and Queen Isot in Hartmann's Erec (1180/1185) and Gottfried's
Tristan (c. 1210) respectively.
In the Decameron, Esther
Zago argues that Boccaccio moves from the traditional picture
of melancholy as a lovesickness that affects men to seeing it
as a malady of women also, thus suggesting that sexual desire
is equal in male and female, and that the cure, sexual intercourse,
is as relevant to one sex as the other. Michael Solomon contends
that the goals of exclusionary medical legislation in the late
middle ages were efforts to control "the tremendous social
power of medicine," rather than to protect the public (81).
At and after the end of the sixteenth century, when women healers,
such as Margaret Kennix, were being restricted by British law,
Renaissance dramatists, William Kerwin notes, Lyly, Shakespeare,
Heywood, and Fletcher, depicted these women as healers not simply
of physical symptoms but as reformers of social relations. Appropriately,
Part One concludes with Gunilla T. Kester's essay illustrating
the healing power of the Blues in contemporary African American
women's literature, a healing that links African American tradition
to that of women healers of earlier times.
Part Two--a discussion of modern
prejudices against women doctors--opens with Holt N. Parker's
account of women doctors in Greece, Rome, and the Byzantine Empire;
ironic, because Parker shows that women doctors not only existed
as early as the fifth century BC in Greece, but that their presence
was treated as unremarkable. Drawing from inscriptions and medical
texts, Parker provides fascinating data on early women doctors
and midwives, including the names of Phanostrate (c. 350 BC),
the first woman doctor whose name is recorded, and Metrodora (second
to fourth century AD), the thorough medical authority who wrote
the first complete surviving volume by a woman doctor. Paulette
Meyer takes the argument to late nineteenth-century Berlin, where
Franziska Tiburtius was forced to remove the shingle advertising
herself as "Dr.med." Although Dr. Tiburtius had received
her diploma from the prestigious University of Zurich, the authorities
found that "Dr.med." implied certification by imperial
German authorities and women were not allowed to take the certification
examination. Meyer attributes the relative success of Russian
women in medicine to different socio-economic conditions from
those in Germany. Regina Morantz-Sanchez analyzes the spectacular
rise and fall of Mary Dixon Jones, a pioneer gynecological surgeon
who became chief medical officer of the Women's Dispensary and
Hospital of the city of Brooklyn in 1881, a time when women emphasized
holistic medicine as women's special strength. Jones's fall was
complicated: Morantz-Sanchez suggests that gender expectations
were involved, but gender may have contributed to her success
also, as the new field of gynecology had some room for a woman,
and male physicians found a woman's support in this field useful.
Examining three hospitals for
women, patients and doctors, the New Hospital in London, founded
in 1872, the Queen Victoria in Melbourne, 1899, and the Rachel
Forster in Sydney, 1922, Alison Bashford charts a regression from
feminist enterprise in the first hospitals to simply working for
women in the last. Lilian R. Furst argues that five novels featuring
"doctresses," written between 1881 and 1891, reflect
contemporary American concerns and hopes for women in medicine,
following the opening of medical colleges for women from 1848
to 1871. Although the strengths of the practitioners depicted
vary depending on the gender of the author, Furst notes that these
novels capture a brief moment of opportunity for women doctors
before women's medical colleges were closed or absorbed into co-educational
institutions. In the last essay, Elsa Nettels argues that Virginia
Woolf's attitudes to male doctors, as suggested by her portrait
of the arrogant, insensitive Sir William Bradshaw in Mrs. Dalloway
(1925), and to female doctors, as suggested by her portraits of
the independent pioneer Sophia Jex-Blake (1840-1912) in Three
Guineas (1938), and the fictional Peggy Pargiter in The
Years (1937), reflect her sense of continued gender inequality.
Although the individual essays
are often fascinating, the relationship between them seems arbitrary;
an opening chapter chronicling the events related to women's place
in the medical world, and inter-essay connections, might help
place them. As the text stands, the essays advance interesting,
neglected material, which should be valuable in a women's studies
overview course.
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