CFP Reading and health in early modern Europe

Symposium on Reading and Health in Early Modern Europe, 1500-1800

Medieval and Early Modern Research Group, Newcastle University

5-6thJuly 2013

This symposium will explore how early modern texts engage with the regulation of the body and mind through reading. It will investigate the connections between reading and health and consider how reading was understood as an embodied practice in the period with profound implications for both personal well being and conception of the healthy body politic.

We invite proposals that address the relationship between health and reading in any genre in print or manuscript in any European language. The genres might include medical, scientific, literary, religious, or pedagogical and rhetorical writings. We encourage proposals that recover diverse reading communities and practices and readers/hearers. We also welcome papers that consider problems of evidence: e.g. manuscript marginalia; print paratexts (and directions to readers); visual representations; non-material evidence (voice; gesture; touch).

Topics might include, but are not restricted to:

Reading as therapeutic (devotional; recreational etc.)

  • Reading medical writing
  • The physiology of reading
  • Reading and well-being
  • Reading and disability
  • Health and the senses
  • Health as a literary theme
  • Reading and the healthy body politic (censorship; free speech; reading communities etc.)

300-word abstracts for 20-minute papers from individuals and panels (3 speakers) to be sent to the conference organisers.

The deadline for abstracts is Thursday, January 31st, 2013.

View the conference website at Newcastle University.

Sadness and the Self in Early Modern England


Disssertation Reviews is a new website that publishes friendly, non-critical reviews of unpublished dissertations, to give an immediate insight into new developments in scholarship. They used to focus on Chinese, Japanese and Korean Studies, but have recently branched out into “Science Studies” and are seeking editors to cover more fields in the humanities and social studies. Science Studies editor Leon Rocha invited me to write a review of Erin Sullivan’s PhD thesis on early modern sadness, which I very much enjoyed reading. The review will be published there shortly, and Leon kindly allowed me to reproduce the review here. Of course you should also visit Disssertation Reviews for more reviews of recent PhD theses.

Sadness and the Self in Early Modern England
A review of Secret Contagions: 
Sadness and the Self in Early Modern England by Erin Sullivan.

The history of emotions is a burgeoning field within cultural history. In recent years, a number of key publications have mapped out the beginnings of a theoretical and methodological framework, and academic centres on the subject are mushrooming around the world. Erin Sullivan’s thesis Secret Contagions: Sadness and the Self in Early Modern England is a valuable new addition to this growing field, not in the least because of its innovative approach to the exploration of historical emotions.

Readers in the early modern period were extremely interested in sadness and grief: the period has been called melancholy’s ‘golden age.’ A number of books exploring this early modern fascination with grief have appeared in the past few years, such as Angus Gowland’s Renaissance Melancholy (2006), Jeremy Schmidt’s Melancholy and the Care of the Soul (2007), Jennifer Vaught’s Masculinity and Emotion in Early Modern English Literature (2008), and Gary Kuchar’s The Poetry of Religious Sorrow in Early Modern England (2008). Whereas these studies focus on particular kinds of sadness (melancholy, religious sorrow) and on particular genres of texts, Sullivan takes a wider contextual view by basing herself on a variety of sources ranging from plays and poems to doctor’s casebooks, diaries, and bills of mortality. In so doing, her rich thesis is able to show convincingly that multiple discourses of sadness (medical theory, moral philosophy, Christian theology) co-existed in the period, sometimes overlapping or conflicting with each other.

The thesis concentrates on the period between the accession of Queen Elizabeth I in 1558 and the Restoration in 1660. It is not, however, the particulars of Tudor and Stuart monarchies or the trauma of the civil wars, but the aftermath of the Reformation that forms the dominant historical context for Sullivan’s argument. The new forms of Protestant religious practice that took shape in early modern England shaped their own discourses of emotional experience. Sullivan concludes that whereas medical and philosophical advice tended to see grief as a damaging and therefore dangerous passion, these new Protestant ideas considered sadness in a more positive light, as a means to come closer to God.

Sullivan is not only interested in the way sadness is shaped by these co-existing discourses. What I found particularly captivating is her fascination with the way individuals used these different discourses of sadness to make sense of their emotional experiences in their own (written) expressions and representations. Inspired by developments in anthropology as well as the work of historian Charles Rosenberg, Sullivan moves from the social constructivist framework current in emotion history towards a model of thinking about the passions that leaves more room for individual agency, “recognizing that social processes are messy and that they are affected by people, just as people are affected by them” (88). Her approach in this way combines three key concepts employed in the cultural history of emotions, which Sullivan in her introduction neatly characterizes as “a set of theoretical nesting eggs” (30): Carol and Peter Stearns’s ‘emotionology,’ which focuses on dominant emotion discourses in a historical period; Rosenwein’s concept of ‘emotional communities’, which examines how social groups employ these discourses; and finally Reddy’s ‘emotives’ which focuses on the individual expression of emotions (although he also relates that expression to ‘emotional regimes’).

The first chapter, “Sadness and dis-ease in early modern thought,” distinguishes between four categories of sadness shaped by three different discourses. In a philosophical context, grief was considered as a disease of the mind that needed to be overcome by reason; medical discourse saw melancholy as a disorder of the physical body; and godly sorrow and despair are categories of sadness shaped by religious discourse that were considered to originate from conflicts in a believer’s conscience that could only be healed by God’s grace (65). Even as she makes these elucidating distinctions, Sullivan stresses that these are dynamic constructions that often merged and overlapped. Just as the authors of treatises on the passions have often crossed disciplinary boundaries in their choice of their subject, so do these categories know many different permutations. The bodily nature of grief, for example, also played a part in philosophical and religious discourses. What is more, points of conflict existed also within these discourses themselves. In medical theory, for example, the Galenic humoral model was challenged by chemically-based systems of medicine such as that of Paracelsus. Sullivan therefore stresses the importance of a context-dependent approach to representations of sadness, an approach also that takes into account the way these ideas were used in personal practice. These discourses, she writes, “did not form a whole to explain passions: an individual’s personal attitudes towards sadness depended on her particular outlook on life, as influenced by factors such as religiosity, level of education, and social standing” (83). After the first chapter has thus mapped these overlapping discourses of grief, the following four chapters each deal with a different aspect of grief in the early modern period.

The “secret contagions” of the title are quoted from The Uses of the Passions (1649), a translation of a treatise by Jean-François Senault. He uses these words as he ponders the ways in which mind, body, and soul affect each other in the experience of emotion. The second chapter, “Grief, death and the possibility of self-knowledge,” takes this issue of the relation between body and mind as its central question, focusing on the idea that one could die of grief. Drawing on the London Bills of Mortality, Donne’s poetry, the plays of Shakespeare and Samuel Pepys’ diary among many other sources, Sullivan shows that although grief is on the one hand seen as a passion that results in extreme physiological changes and could lead to death, other texts conceive of it more as a passion of the mind and connect it to human agency and understanding, a perspective that also allowed for a more positive view of grief as enabling personal insight and wisdom. The finding that these two discourses co-existed leads Sullivan to nuance the recent emphasis on the literal, material and bodily meaning of expressions such as “sunken spirits” or “broken hearts,” for example in the work of Gail Kern Paster. Rather, she underlines that this material view of the passions circulated alongside discourses that situated the passions in the mind, and which questioned the extent to which they materially altered the body.

The next chapter, “The problem of melancholy: theory, discourse and practice,” starts once again from a contradiction within a discourse, in this case that of melancholy. On the one hand, this type of humoral sadness caused by a surplus of black bile is associated with self-obsession and self-indulgence, while it is on the other hand also seen as conducive to intellectual and artistic creativity. The central question in this chapter is how individuals “square[d] the commonly voiced, negative views of melancholy with its more desirable possibilities” (144). Sullivan turns first to literary texts such as Milton’s “L’Allegro” and “Il Penseroso” and Shakespeare’s As You Like It with its typical melancholic character Jaques, to find that literature tends to represent the ambiguous character of melancholy, showing its intellectual face but at the same time hinting at its negative aspects. She subsequently turns to doctors’ casebooks and patient narratives, to see how these two views of melancholy were experienced in medical practice. Sullivan discovered that doctors tend to associate the condition with rather mundane physical complaints, and that patients often turned to religion as a framework to explain their suffering and healing.

The final two chapters of the thesis explore the ways in which Protestant religious practice shaped new understandings of grief in post-Reformation England. In the fourth chapter, “Embodying faith: godly sorrow and the heart,” Sullivan again employs a broad range of sources including sermons, religious treatises, spiritual autobiographies, and the poetry of John Ford and George Herbert. She shows that in contrast to the prevalent conception of grief in medical and philosophical discourse, religious practice shaped a more positive experience of grief. As she puts it: “[t]he passive acceptance of sadness and suffering, believed to be sent from God, was one of the central ways in which believers could demonstrate to themselves and others the extent of their sorrow for sin, their connection with God, and their inclusion among the elect” (204). Interestingly, she also argues that in Protestant religious practice, the bodily aspects of grief were not eschewed: its understanding of grief was heavily based in notions of physical affliction. The heart, at once bodily and metaphysical in this discourse, functions as a reminder of grief’s “secret contagions”: the overflow between the bodily, mental and spiritual nature of sadness in religious practice.

Chapter five, “Tales of despair: narrative authority and interpretive possibility” establishes a fascinating link between the doctrine of double predestination and the notion of individual appropriations of existing discourses of grief that is so central to this thesis. Religious despair, if moderate, could be read as a sign of the elect, but in excessive form it was an emotion that pointed to the opposite. Because of this room for interpretation, “it became increasingly important that people wishing to identify themselves as among the godly narrated their experience of religious anxiety in a way that limited the potential for alternate interpretations” (249). In this thesis’ characteristic manner, the chapter turns to various expressions and representations of religious despair in a myriad of sources to explore the ways in which early modern believers narrated this form of sadness. In an entertaining example, Sullivan shows that attempts to relieve religious despair did not always have the intended effect. The anxiety generated by the doctrine of double predestination spawned a great number of works of “practical divinity” which sought to help their readers in identifying signs of their election by God. William Perkins published a “Table declaring the order of the causes of Salvation and Damnation,” which charted the various paths of life towards grace and reprobation (see illustration).

Perkins, "Survey or table declaring the order of the causes of salvation and damnation according to God’s word …”

The poem “The Distracted Puritan” (1648), however, suggests that these well-intended guides may have increased religious despair rather than relieved anxiety. Set to the tune of Tom of Bedlam, the speaker of the poem complains:

I observ’d in Perkins Tables
The black Lines of Damnation:
Those crooked veines
Soe stuck in my brains,
That I fear’d my Reprobation. (p. 281)

This is a wonderful example of what I consider to be one of the key strengths of this thesis: Sullivan’s attention to the ways in which the various discourses of grief were appropriated, combined, and reshaped by individual authors in early modern England.

Dissertation information: University College London, University of London, 2010. 348pp. Supervisors: Hal Cook, Andrew Wear, and René Weis.

Conference: Cultural history of Dutch Emotions

Cool, Calm and Collected
The Dutch and their Emotions in Pre-Modern Times

Koninklijke Bibliotheek Den Haag
4 November 2011

Registration by way of an e-mail to: info[at]knhg[dot]nl, or by telephone: +31 (0)70 3140363

The conference ‘Cool, Calm and Collected’ aims to enhance the burgeoning history of emotions in the Netherlands. Speakers at the conference will present their current research, integrating the study of emotional standards in advice literature with the study of actual emotional practices in ego documents, chronicles or archival sources. The fields covered will range from politics, philosophy and the urban feud to religion, the stage and the visual arts. The conference will not only be of interest to specialists in the history of emotions but also to the greater historical community.

Although the history of emotions was already suggested as an interesting topic by Lucien Febvre and Johan Huizinga it has been taken up seriously as a subject of historical study only fairly recently. Initially, historians limited themselves largely to the study of documents that prescribed emotional ideals and standards. Researchers are now going beyond such texts. They are currently identifying transformations in emotional ‘communities’ and ‘styles’ on the basis of letters, autobiographies and memoirs, as well as a variety of narrative, archival and visual sources. Historians are also emphasising performativity, what emotions actually do. At the institutional level, in Europe two important research centres have been started: in London the Queen Mary Centre for the History of the Emotions (Thomas Dixon, director); in Berlin the ‘Forschungsbereich Geschichte der Gefühle’ (Ute Frevert, director). This conference seeks to establish a more solid footing for the history of emotions in the Netherlands and join in with these international trends.

The speakers at the conference will discuss the emotional styles of the Modern Devouts and the cult of pugnacity in Late Medieval feuds. Focusing on the seventeenth century, they will reconsider the performativity accorded to the emotions in painting, the theater, and pietist religious movements. For the eighteenth century, speakers will analyse the Dutch ‘cult of sensibility’, the contemporary appreciation and navigation of the sentiments. The day will be closed with a lecture by Dorothee Sturkenboom. She is a pioneer in the study of emotions in the Netherlands and will relate the emotional history of the Dutch to contemporary and more recent views on their ‘national character’.

The conference’s keynote lecturer, the well-known English historian Thomas Dixon, will discuss the latest developments in the field.

The organisers: Wessel Krul, Herman Roodenburg, and Catrien Santing.

The conference will take place in the National Library of the Netherlands (KB) in The Hague.

The conference fee is € 30,- (€ 25,- for members of the KNHG and € 15,- for students and PhD students) and includes lunch. The conference fee should be transferred to account number 6934391 of Nederlands Historisch Genootschap in The Hague.

Registration by way of an e-mail to: info@knhg.nl, or by telephone: +31 (0)70 3140363.

Programme

9. 45 – 10.00                          Welcome Catrien Santing (Groningen University), chair

10.00 – 10.15                       Introduction Herman Roodenburg (Meertens Institute)

10.15 – 11.00                        Keynote lecture Thomas Dixon (Queen Mary, London)

                                                 History in British Tears: Some Reflections on the Anatomy of Modern Emotions

 11.00 – 11.15                        Coffee/tea

11.15 – 11.45                        Mathilde van Dijk (Groningen University),

                                                 ‘Just some silly Beguine’: being pious and showing it in the Devotio Moderna

11.45 – 12.15                        Matthijs Gerrits ( Leiden University )

                                                Anger and Feuding in the Late Medieval Northern Low Countries

12.15 – 13.30                        Lunch

13.00-13.30                          Annual Meeting Koninklijk Nederlands Historisch Genootschap

13.30 – 14.00                        Kristine Steenbergh (VU University)

                                                  Vondel and the Role of Emotions in the Public Sphere

14.00 – 14.30                        Fred van Lieburg (VU University)

                                                  The Use of Emotions by the Hotter Sort of Protestant

14.30 – 15.00                        Eric Jan Sluyter (Amsterdam University)

                                                  The Changing Representation of the Passions in History Paintings by Rembrandt and his Amsterdam Colleagues

 

15.00 – 15.15                        Coffee and tea

15.15 – 15.45                        Wessel Krul (Groningen University )

                                                 Phlegmatic Excitement. The Dutch and the Discovery of the Emotions in the 18th Century

15.45 – 16.15                        Edwina Hagen (VU University)

                                                 The Passionate Politics of Rutger Jan and Catharina Schimmelpenninck: Dialogue between the Head and the Heart.

16.15 – 16.45                        Dorothée Sturkenboom (independent scholar)

                                                The Dutch Temperament: An Enigma to be Explained…

16.45 – 17.30                       Reflections by Dixon, Roodenburg and Santing, followed by Plenary Discussion

17.30-18.00                         Drinks

Live conference blog

20110930-231528.jpg

I am in Istanbul at the second conference on the Cultural History of Emotions in Pre-Modernity (the first was in Umeå, Sweden, in 2008). A very broad range of historians of science and medicine, literary, legal, cultural historians and anthropologists have met here to discuss the cultural history of emotions up to and including the nineteenth century. I took along my iPad to do a bit of conference blogging.

Because the historical periods and cultures discussed range from classical antiquity via medieval China to eighteenth-century Copenhagen and the emotions under scrutiny are just as varied, it is hard to sketch out general ideas or conclusions reached at the conference. The theoretical frameworks from which the cultural history of emotions is approached are also different. The most often referred to is Barbara Rosenwein’s concept of emotional communities and their specific words. What all contributors do agree on, is that at least part of what we now call an emotion is culturally determined and therefore different across space and time.

In his keynote paper “Beyond Emotion,” William Reddy (author of the seminal book The Navigation of Feeling) started from this idea. He remarked that although emotional vocabularies are complex and culturally specific, we usually can find ways to translate specific emotion terms. As an example, he compared Stoic ira with Ilongot liget. Even though these two cultural concepts of anger are poles apart, Reddy argued that we are able to see that they have a shared core. (I wonder if this applies to all emotion terms – there are of course the oft-quoted examples of emotions specific to one culture only, such as Japanese Fureai.)

What is the cause of this overlap in meanings, this shared core of two culturally different interpretations of an emotion?

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Early modern Carnivalesque

A new early modern Carnivalesque is up on the mother of all early modern blogs — Early Modern Notes. With links to blogs on historiography and methods; visual, literary and musical cultures; science and nature; crime and punishment; politics and people, there should be something to everyone’s taste.

Printed Images in Early Modern Britain

Cover of Printed Images in Early Modern BritainI promised I would get back to Michael Hunter‘s (ed.) Printed Images in Early Modern Britain: Essays in Interpretation (Ashgate, 2010). I sat down with it last evening and read the introduction and first five chapters, which together form the section ‘Printed images and the Reformation.’

According to Michael Hunter’s introduction, printed images have until recently been rather neglected. Engravings were mainly studied from an art-historical perspectives, woodcuts as an emanation of popular culture. A more socio-cultural approach was introduced in the 1980s. More recently, a number of studies has broken down the technical and disciplinary boundaries, and has started to analyse the settings from which printed images originated to provide a deeper understanding of the role of printed images in the cultural history of early modern Britain. Hunter mentions works such as Joseph Monteyne’s The Printed Image in Early Modern London; Helen Pierce’s Unseemly Pictures; and Malcolm Jones’s The Print in Early Modern England. The sections in the book are similarly concerned with the ways in which images relate to cultural history. They each connect printed images to particular cultural-historical context, such as science and cartography or politics. Hunter hopes that historians will become more adept at including images in their analyses of early modern culture, inspired by this volume but also by the increasing availability of these images online — as for example in bpi1700.

Printed images and the Reformation

This section of the book looks at images in the religious context of the Reformation. The first two chapters are tightly connected and cross-reference each other when relevant – a sign of thorough editing. Margaret Ashton examines the controversies surrounding the representation of God and Christ on title pages from the early Reformation to the 1640s. She shows how depictions of God as a bearded old man in the clouds on title pages of bibles, as below on The Great Bible of 1539, were replaced by the use of the tetragrammaton YHWH, a new formula that had appeared in Anabaptist circles on the Continent in 1529. The Coverdale Bible (1535) was the earliest book to use the symbol in England.

God on the title page of the Great Bible of 1539

God on the title page of the Great Bible of 1539

tetragrammaton on the title page of the Coverdale bible

Tetragrammaton on the title page of the Coverdale bible

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British Printed Images to 1700

I made a serendipitous find in the library today. In my university library this is quite a feat, because most of the books are behind closed doors and need to be requested at the desk. They do, however, have open stacks containing the latest additions to the collection, and that is where I saw Printed Images in Early Modern Britain: Images in Interpretation, edited by Michael Hunter (Ashgate, 2010). The volume brings together a number of papers given at two conferences held at Birkbeck and the V&A in the context of the AHRC-funded ‘British Printed Images to 1700’ project. I hope to write a post on the book at a later stage, but I first looked into the online database that resulted from the project — because, to my shame, I have to admit I didn’t know it existed.

British Printed Images to 1700 (bpi1700) contains thousands of prints from the Department of Prints and Drawings at the British Museum and from the Victoria and Albert Museum. One of the ways to search the database is with the ICONCLASS system, developed at my alma mater Utrecht University, which categorizes the prints according to their subject matter. I looked under Human being > Human body > Senses and sensation, and found these etchings:

bpi no. 664

Sight

bpi no. 665

bpi no. 666

taste

bpi no. 667

touch

bpi no. 668

They are by Francis Cleyn (1582?-1658): a series of five plates called Quinque Sensuum descriptio, in eo picturæ genere quod (Grottesche) vocant Itali (Description of the Five Senses in that kind of painting that the Italians call grotesque).

What interested me about these images is their subject matter of the senses, but also the way in which they are depicted, with a woman symbolizing one of the senses occupying the centre of the image In the centre of the image, and man-sized flowers and other decorations surrounding her. In the image representing Hearing, for example, a woman sits playing a lute in a bower formed by a man and a woman who are very Ovidianesquely metamorphosing into trees. To either side of her are huge orchid-like flowers, a hind and a stag, putti, and there’s also a rabbit at her feet. Above her head is the title of the etching – ‘Auditus’, or hearing.

The etchings made me think immediately of the chapter “Green Spectacles” in Bruce Smith’s The Key of Green: Passion and Perception in Renaissance Culture (2010), which discusses this Sheldon Tapestry:

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Research agenda

I have five years of research time ahead of me. I still cannot believe it, but it is true. The first year is a gift from the Board of my university (Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam) to help promising young researchers improve their track record in publishing. I am going to use it to finally publish a rigorously rewritten version of my PhD thesis. So expect posts about revenge once more, but also about the Inns of Court, the common law, and the do’s and don’ts of writing a book proposal.

I am now working on an essay on ‘Cognition and Affect’ for the section on Shakespeare criticism in the Cambridge World Shakespeare Encyclopedia, edited by Bruce R. Smith and Katherine Rowe (Cambridge University Press). I really enjoy reading and writing for this essay, not only because it might become part of such a wonderful publication which is also an innovative digital resource, but also because the topic is precisely what my new research project (2011-2015) focuses on.

My project “Moving Scenes: Theatre, Passions and the Public Sphere in Early Modern England” has its own blog where I will post abstracts and conference papers. This is how the ‘About’ page describes the project:

‘Moving Scenes’ examines the role of the theatre in thinking about the transmission of emotion in the context of the emerging public sphere in early modern England. Although Jürgen Habermas situated the origins of the public sphere in the eighteenth century, recent research has traced its roots to the sixteenth and seven teenth centuries. The transition from a feudal to a proto-capitalist society in which persuasion and rhetoric became central tools, contributed to the emergence of an early public sphere. The print controversies of the period are also seen as central in this process, as well as the religious debate caused by the English Reformation (see (Halasz 1997; Zaret 2000; and Staines 2004).

These changes in society evoked pervasive questions about the role of the emotions in this emerging public sphere. The relation­ship between sense experience, emotion and reason constitutes a major ‘faultline’ in early modern English culture (Sinfield 1992; see also Smith 2009). Not only was the stage a key focus for debates about the effects of passion in perception and judge ment, it was also one of the important locations in which this debate was carried out. With spec tators from across the social spectrum, the theatre was one of the major cultural laboratories in early modern English culture.

With its specific focus on the role of the theatre in debates about the place of conveyed emotions in the public sphere, Moving Scenes shows that a study of theatrical representations of the effects of passion can do more than shed light on issues of identity and selfhood. The research project provides insight into the politics of passions in early modern English culture.

“Moving Scenes” is funded by a ‘Veni’-grant from the Netherlands Organization for Scientific Research (NWO).

Works cited

  • Halasz, Alexandra. The Marketplace of Print: Pamphlets and the Public Sphere in Early Modern England. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997.
  • Smith, Bruce. The Key of Green: Passion and Perception in Renaissance Culture. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 2009.
  • Staines, John. “Compassion in the Public Sphere of Milton and King Charles” in: Reading the Early Modern Passions: Essays in the Cultural History of Emotion. Eds. Gail Kern Paster, Katherine Rowe and Mary Floyd-Wilson. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004. 89-110.
  • Zaret, David. Origins of Democratic Culture: Printing, Petitions, and the Public Sphere in Early Modern England. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000.

Revenge tragedy on BBC radio

On 18 June, the BBC radio programme In Our Time devoted an episode to the genre of revenge tragedy in Elizabethan and Jacobean Drama. The full episode is available online and well worth a listen. Melvyn Bragg’s guests were:

  • Jonathan Bate, Professor of Shakespeare and Renaissance Literature at the University of Warwick and (among many, many other things) editor of the Arden 3 edition of Titus Andronicus
  • Julie Sanders, Professor of English Literature and Drama at the University of Nottingham
  • Janet Clare, Professor of Renaissance Literature at the University of Hull and author of Revenge Tragedies of the Renaissance (2006)