A Feminist before Feminism: Marie De Gournay

What ought to be included in a given philosophical canon is a contentious question. As academics have rediscovered and reanalyzed various texts, the traditional canon of western philosophy has come under intense criticism for being at times exclusionary and intellectually limiting. What counts as a philosophical text is yet another point of contention in the debate over what ought to be included as a canonical text.

I believe for libertarians, the qualifications for being part of the broadly speaking liberal canon should be simple and sweet. If a thinker argued for a freer world through individual liberty, voluntary cooperation, and institutional change, they deserve to be remembered for their advocacy. One figure I believe deserves to be praised both as an example of a person unphased by overwhelming odds and an advocate for individual liberty is Marie Gournay, the 17th-​century French woman who, despite hostile attitudes towards women, became a professional writer. Over her long career, she wrote literary criticism, poetry, history, political philosophy, and, most controversially for her time, a scathing critique of the laws and cultural mores that kept women oppressed and docile.

Today, feminism is a staple of our political lexicon. Regardless if one thinks of themselves as a feminist or not, it is undeniable the colossal impact the feminist movement has had upon history. Before the 20th-​century, women were relegated to two main roles, being wives and bearing children. Outside of this, there was little room for material advancement or status from their own efforts. Women’s identities and fortunes were intimately tied to their husbands or fathers, who usually had immense control over women’s lives.

The patriarchy was rationalized by intellectuals using selective quotations from the Bible and ancient philosophy to support their view that women were naturally physically and mentally inferior to men. As Aristotle stated in a quote that would be relayed by many misogynistic thinkers, “the relation of male to female is by nature a relation of superior to inferior and ruler to ruled.” Being naturally ruled by the authority of men, women were denied access to education. After all, according to the logic of ancient Greek science, women’s anatomy made it impossible for them to think rationally. Giving the irrational an education would give women a dangerous tool to turn on their male counterparts.

However, by the 16th-​century, the world was changing. Columbus had discovered the new world, Copernicus theorized the sun, not the Earth, was the center of the universe, the printing press made reading accessible to more people than ever before, and the artistic achievements of the Renaissance were in full swing. As the world dramatically changed for Europeans, previous assumptions were questioned, and new methods of theorizing about the world emerged. It was in this energetic milieu that Marie Gournay was born on October 6th, 1565, in the midst of a Golden age of French writing.

She was born into a noble family; her father, Guillaume Le Jars, worked as a treasurer under the French King Henry III. By the time Marie was three, he was bought the feudal rights to an estate in Picardy under the name Gournay, which became part of his family name, leading to Marie’s name, Marie Gournay, even though she was born Marie Le Jars. The family split their time between a house in Paris and the Gournay estate. Marie was the oldest of six children. In 1577, by the time the sixth Gournay child was born, Marie’s father suddenly died, leaving his wife X a widow unable to afford the upkeep of their Parisian home; she moved her family to their estate to live within their now limited means.

As Marie grew older, her relationship with her mother became increasingly strained. Marie had little interest in learning the traditional household arts expected to be mastered by a lady. She had more interest in a life of study and debate, but her mother saw no reason for her to indulge in her intellectual pursuits. There had been some female writers, such as the 15th-​century proto-​feminist Christine De Pizan. However, women like her were the exception, not the rule. But Marie did not listen to her mother, every hour she had spare, she spent studying, teaching herself Latin by comparing Latin texts to French translations. Latin is hard to learn with a teacher, but Marie learned much of her Latin without any outside help or support, a sign of her dedication. Marie had a preference for ancient stoic authors such as Seneca and Plutarch. Over time, Marie would add Spanish and Italian to her repertoire.

By the age of nineteen, Marie encountered the essays of the philosopher Michel De Montaigne, a philosopher who stood out at the time for his skeptical attitudes, his spirit of free inquiry, and his intensely personal style of writing about philosophical ideas. Montaigne was close friends with Etienne de Boetie, the author of a Discourse on Voluntary Servitude, a radical book that attacked the roots of all political authority. Marie herself would later comment that reading Montaigne was a life-​altering experience. When Marie learned that Montaigne was in Paris, she immediately wrote to him expressing her admiration, and to her surprise, the very next day, Montaigne appeared at her doorstep. Montaigne, then fifty-​five, developed a close bond with the young Marie, eventually giving her the title of his adopted daughter. A title she wore with pride, referring to Montaigne as her second father. While this might sound a bit weird or even creepy, this kind of adoptive arrangement or alliance was common in intellectual circles in contemporary France.

Through her friendship with Montaigne opened new doors into the world of writing, in 1591, Marie’s mother died. The oldest of the family, Marie, was now charged with securing a living for the remaining members of the family. Marie divided the family estate amongst her brothers and sisters, but she reduced the portion she received, leading to a lifetime of financial insecurity.

Only a year later, tragedy struck again in 1592 when Montaigne died. Marie found out eight months after the event and was devastated by the loss of her second father. Montaigne named Marie the editor of a new edition of his Essays, making Marie Gournay one of the first recorded examples of a female editor in France. Though today Montaigne is deemed one of the most iconoclastic philosophers who ever put pen to paper, Marie’s role in acting as Montaigne’s intellectual custodian is often forgotten by scholars. Marie wrote of Montaigne, “My father believed that he could teach you nothing better than self-​knowledge and practice, now through reason, now through experience. The most instructive advice of all is an example, and the finest example in Europe was his life.

After the death of her mother, Mari traveled to Cambrai, where she was hosted in the house of a governor. Marie might have been able to stay in Cambrai permanently, but she knew her literary aspirations could only be pursued close to Paris. In 1594, Marie published her first book entitled Le Promenoir de Monsieur de Montaigne, a novel inspired by her frequent walks with Montaigne. The story follows the Persian princess Alinda, who is forced to marry the king of Antioch. While traveling to marry the king, Alinda falls in love with a man named Leontine. After running away together, they are shipwrecked and arrive in Thrace. A Thracian nobleman Orthalcus quickly falls for Alinda while his sister falls in love with Leontine. Alinda learns of Leontin’s betrayal and tricks him into killing a servant who has crossed her. Alinda writes a heartfelt farewell letter and takes the place of the servant, Leontin eventually realizes he killed the wrong person and takes his own life because of grief. Marie’s novel is arguably one of the first French psychological novels. It became extremely popular, being republished in 1595, 1598, 1607, 1626, 1634, and 1641. Though less overt than her other works, Marie uses Alinda’s story to illustrate why women need to be educated and not be slavishly dependent on their often disloyal partners. A common argument was that educated women would wantonly pursue their desires and abandon the Christian virtue of chastity. Marie replied by writing, “The vulgar say that in order for a woman to be chaste, she must not be so clever. Truly, it does too little honor chastity to believe that only the blind could find it beautiful.”

In 1597, she sailed to Brussels and Antwerp, where she was warmly received, an increasing rarity as her life progressed. By the time Marie returned to Paris, she was forced to live within her means despite her family’s former wealth. She lived with one fiercely loyal servant Nicole Jamyn and her cats. Fashioning herself as an independent scholar, she began attending the literary salons of Queen Marguerite, conversing with a select group of intellectuals. Marie wrote poetry about figures such as Joan of Arc and translated ancient authors such as Ovid, Tacitus, and Sallust. During the 16th-​century, translation was a highly esteemed art, one which Marie took seriously. She argued that it was not enough just to substitute French words for Latin words. She believed translation required that a translator practice judgment and stylistic taste while keeping as true to the original as possible. While not an amazingly talented poet, Marie threw herself into the debates of her day over what she believed were increasingly arbitrary rules demeaning literary tools such as metaphors which she defended as “the most precious gem in the language of a poem.” Marie’s detractors mocked her traditional taste calling her old-​fashioned and out of touch.

Though increasingly successful financial strain plagued Marie’s life, so much so that she resorted to alchemy for a time. Marie found it difficult to fit in high social circles due to her circumstance. But despite her financial situation and her dislike of court culture, Marie was successful in making friends in high places.

Marie was one of the select few women of her period who wrote explicitly about politics. She discussed her views on government in two works, Instruction of the Prince and Farewell of the Soul of the King. In some ways, Marie does not challenge the status quo of her time. For example, she takes it for granted that monarchy is a just institution. But Marie was careful to always emphasize the duties of a king rather than his powers. She argued that a good family lineage was not enough for a good king, they must be educated to assure virtuous behavior.

Though she had distinguished herself as a scholar and had even been awarded a modest pension by the French king Louis XIII, Marie still faced hostility from her male peers. Often she was the butt of cruel insults and practical jokes. In one instance, in 1616, she was tricked into writing her book Representation of the life of Miss de Gournay under the impression it was a gift for King James of England. When Marie realized she had been tricked, she decided the publish the book anyway. Marie was often quick to lash out at her detractors, as she said herself, “I have a fiery temperament, I hardly ever forget a deeply-​felt insult, I am impatient and partial to rage.” These kinds of practical jokes would plague Marie’s life until old age, but they only strengthened her resolve to prove the misogynists wrong.

In 1641, she would publish what is now her most famous work, The Equality of Men and Women. Whereas the title suggests, Marie argues for the moral equality of the sexes. While today this is not an uncommon position, for the time, it was a radical and rare belief, one that challenged the western philosophical canon. Marie was inspired to write The Equality of Men and Women after reading Alexis Trousset’s work Alphabet of the imperfection and wickedness of women, dedicated to the worst woman in the world, a compendium of misogynistic arguments. Trust does not disguise his hatred calling women “the most imperfect creatures in the universe, the scum of nature, the breeding ground of evils, the source of controversy, the laughing stock of the insane, the scourge of wisdom, the rebrand of hell, the instigator of vice, the cesspool of filth, a monster in nature, a necessary evil.” While Trousset might sound like he holds extreme views, his work was popular reprinted throughout the 17th-​century, a testament to the attitudes of the time.

However, not all views were negative but could at times be equally backwards. Other authors, such as Corneille Agrippa, had written treatises on the superiority of women, but these were usually more about the skill of the orator than the dignity of women. Bizarre reasons were given for women’s superiority, such as when a woman drowns, she will die face down, not exposing her breasts, showing women’s dedication to modesty. But for Marie, these anecdotes and fanciful tales about the nature of women are ridiculous. Following Aristotle’s rule of the golden mean, Marie describes herself as a person who “flees from all extremities.” She explains that “I am content to make women equal to men, nature herself being opposed in this matter as much to superiority as to inferiority.”

Marie makes her case for equality by constantly quoting from esteemed authorities such as ancient philosophers, church fathers, and passages from the Bible. At first, this might seem derivative; Marie is simply selectively choosing quotations to make her case, hardly the work of a genius philosopher. But Marie has her reasons for her particular style. She writes that “Even though women had the powerful arguments of Carneades, there would be some worthless man who would put them down with the approval of those present, when with just a smile or some little shaking of his head, his mute eloquence would say, it is a woman who speaks.” Harsh experience had taught Marie the vast majority of educated men were not receptive to equality between the sexes. Furthermore, they put no value in the words of a woman, regardless of her intellect or skill.

Thus Marie decides to argue on misogynist terms by referencing the great authorities of the past. She can no longer be dismissed offhand because it is not her who is arguing for equality, but philosophers and saints who formed the core beliefs of her era. Marie argues that the only substantial difference between men and women is their respective levels of education, something women could not properly pursue without ridicule. Marie explains that the differences between men and women can be found in their physical strengths and reproductive capacities. However, neither of these are grounds for discrimination. There are many animals stronger than humans, but this does not mean that elephants are superior to humans because of their size. In a similar manner, Marie concludes physical strength does not justify inequality. In terms of reproductive organs, Marie argues that what makes humans special is not what is between their legs but between their ears, their brains. She explains that “the unique form and difference of this animal consists only in the human soul.” Being male or female is an accidental quality, one necessary for reproduction. In Marie’s view, despite their minor differences, men and women are essentially the same. Both hold a rational soul and a capacity for reason. She jokes about the minor differences between the sexes, explaining that “There is nothing that so resembles a male cat on a windowsill as a female cat.”

To make the case for equality, Marie quotes a wide variety of sources supporting women’s equality while also celebrating their historical achievements in philosophy, politics, and writing. She also provides ample evidence referencing biblical stories where women were bestowed the same spiritual dignity God had given the rest of mankind. Marie’s reorganizing of existing historical knowledge into a feminist perspective can arguably be considered an early precursor to what people often disparagingly call gender studies. After listing the achievements of women despite the oppression and mockery doled out by men, Marie advocates for women to be educated and to have access to public office like their male counterparts. Marie’s equality of men and women is one of the first publications to use the term equality to define the relationships between the sexes.

Even in old age, Marie clung to her literary hopes, continuing to write about literary criticism and the cause of equality. By the age of 79, she passed away after a long life of writing, resulting in her collected works totaling over a thousand pages of poetry, literary criticism, philosophical discussions, and of course, the topic of equality between the sexes. Her work inspired thinkers like François Poullain de la Barre and Anna Maria Van Schurman to argue in similar terms for equality.

Though Marie was successful in styling herself as an independent scholar and woman of letters between the 17th and 19th centuries, her works were nearly entirely forgotten besides the occasional reference to her work belittling her old-​school literary sensibilities. While popular during her life, she was mainly recognized for her work in translation and literary criticism, and her radical arguments for equality were ignored by mainstream culture. Thankfully today, scholars pay more attention to Marie De Gournay, increasingly, her role in preserving the legacy of Montaigne is appreciated, and her works on feminism have become representative of one of the finest feminists of the 17th-​century.

Marie De Gournay did not live an easy life by any means. She faced many obstacles from her familial obligations, her financial strain, and the ridicule of a misogynist society.