Characters in these texts usually conform to traditional gender roles
Compare the depiction of different genders
Despite significant social reform occurring in the forty years between the writing of Paradise
Lost and the Duchess of Malfi, these texts are categorically defined by the pervasion of feminine
transgression and male subordination. Through this however, their trajectories diverge: Webster,
a quintessential Jacobean protofeminist garners admiration for his brave and defiant Duchess
who rails against patriarchal command, yet Milton, seemingly the antithesis of this depiction,
indicates that the fall of mankind is due to the inversion of gender roles in Eden. Contrastingly,
the ruling figures of both Malfi and Eden, namely the Aragonian Brothers and God the Father,
th
perfectly embody that of a 17 century patriarch, seeking to enforce tradition upon their
subordinates; thus, this unlikely triad do in fact conform to traditional gender roles.
Both Eve and the Duchess relish in their pursuit to assert themselves despite patriarchal
oppression in Eden and Malfi. Webster offers a ‘carnivalesque inversion of contemporary gender
stereotypes’ (Augherston) with an eponymous protagonist, who gives ‘majesty to adversity’.
Through initiating an exogamous “second marriage” with her lowly steward, the Duchess
heroically fractures the classist construct of the court. Her choice directly defies her brothers’
fixation on preserving what they imagine to be a pure and uncontaminated aristocratic
bloodline—a fixation that underpins their refusal to let her remarry at all. In rejecting their desire
for her to remain a “figure cut in alabaster”, she instead embraces a transgressive sexuality that,
as Callaghan notes, “combines virtue with powerful sexual desire.” Webster appears to
emphasise the Duchess’ meritocracy, indeed even through her death, in which she valiantly
forgives her executioners, invoking connotations of a “female Christ” (Daileader), establishing a
unity between her body and body politic. Her execution starkly contrasts to that of Cariola, who
th
appears to exemplify the archetype of a hysterical woman in the 17 century; Cariola “bites and
scratches” and attempts to fabricate a “contrac[tion] to a young gentleman”, while the Duchess
stoically proclaims “pull down heaven upon me…come violent death”. Similarly, Eve acts upon
her own quest for autonomy, notably speaking first, demanding she and Adam “divide [their]
labours”, and thereby defies Gods expectations of her to be a submissive wife ‘whose existence
is defined by men’ (Whitfield). Thus, Eve subverts contemporary ideals, such as that of Dodd
and Cleaver’s material advice manual which conveys the household like a commonwealth, the
husband a ‘governor’, and the wife silently obedient. Moreover, both Eve and the Duchess
seemingly attain stoic qualities in their transgression; the Duchess recasts the ‘wooing’ of
Antonio in the defiant mould of a “Soldier…assay[ing] this dangerous venture”, an image that
resonates with Eve’s audacious entry into Eden “armed” with mere “gardening tools”. Both
women thus seize upon an agency categorically denied to most women of the 17th century,
confronting patriarchal authority with a striking, almost martial, heroism, indicative of refusal to
abide by conservative gender roles. Yet each text quietly undermines the very transgression it
stages: Milton’s narrative voice carries a subtly misogynist register, its mockery of Eve’s
Compare the depiction of different genders
Despite significant social reform occurring in the forty years between the writing of Paradise
Lost and the Duchess of Malfi, these texts are categorically defined by the pervasion of feminine
transgression and male subordination. Through this however, their trajectories diverge: Webster,
a quintessential Jacobean protofeminist garners admiration for his brave and defiant Duchess
who rails against patriarchal command, yet Milton, seemingly the antithesis of this depiction,
indicates that the fall of mankind is due to the inversion of gender roles in Eden. Contrastingly,
the ruling figures of both Malfi and Eden, namely the Aragonian Brothers and God the Father,
th
perfectly embody that of a 17 century patriarch, seeking to enforce tradition upon their
subordinates; thus, this unlikely triad do in fact conform to traditional gender roles.
Both Eve and the Duchess relish in their pursuit to assert themselves despite patriarchal
oppression in Eden and Malfi. Webster offers a ‘carnivalesque inversion of contemporary gender
stereotypes’ (Augherston) with an eponymous protagonist, who gives ‘majesty to adversity’.
Through initiating an exogamous “second marriage” with her lowly steward, the Duchess
heroically fractures the classist construct of the court. Her choice directly defies her brothers’
fixation on preserving what they imagine to be a pure and uncontaminated aristocratic
bloodline—a fixation that underpins their refusal to let her remarry at all. In rejecting their desire
for her to remain a “figure cut in alabaster”, she instead embraces a transgressive sexuality that,
as Callaghan notes, “combines virtue with powerful sexual desire.” Webster appears to
emphasise the Duchess’ meritocracy, indeed even through her death, in which she valiantly
forgives her executioners, invoking connotations of a “female Christ” (Daileader), establishing a
unity between her body and body politic. Her execution starkly contrasts to that of Cariola, who
th
appears to exemplify the archetype of a hysterical woman in the 17 century; Cariola “bites and
scratches” and attempts to fabricate a “contrac[tion] to a young gentleman”, while the Duchess
stoically proclaims “pull down heaven upon me…come violent death”. Similarly, Eve acts upon
her own quest for autonomy, notably speaking first, demanding she and Adam “divide [their]
labours”, and thereby defies Gods expectations of her to be a submissive wife ‘whose existence
is defined by men’ (Whitfield). Thus, Eve subverts contemporary ideals, such as that of Dodd
and Cleaver’s material advice manual which conveys the household like a commonwealth, the
husband a ‘governor’, and the wife silently obedient. Moreover, both Eve and the Duchess
seemingly attain stoic qualities in their transgression; the Duchess recasts the ‘wooing’ of
Antonio in the defiant mould of a “Soldier…assay[ing] this dangerous venture”, an image that
resonates with Eve’s audacious entry into Eden “armed” with mere “gardening tools”. Both
women thus seize upon an agency categorically denied to most women of the 17th century,
confronting patriarchal authority with a striking, almost martial, heroism, indicative of refusal to
abide by conservative gender roles. Yet each text quietly undermines the very transgression it
stages: Milton’s narrative voice carries a subtly misogynist register, its mockery of Eve’s