uch like Gothic literature itself, The Monk by Matthew Lewis presents a labyrinth of questions infinitely complex and subtle.

This is particularly true in the character of Matilda who, as both double copy of the Virgin and agent of Lucifer, represents an enigmatic symbol which raises some of deep questions with regard to representations of the 'feminine' and its manifestations as 'other.'

 

 

 

 

 

 

father

escapes

unconscious

enigma, cells

deceive

form/dilemna

truth

remains

history

meanings - rhythm

mystic

signs

fitted, filled

dark

weight

impossiblity

silent, dissolve

legitimate

faith

symbolic

posture

elsewhere

Firstly, we are given information about Matilda only through Ambrosio's reported perceptions of her, or more specifically his reported perceptions of her "image," as it cascades in a progressive, headlong descent towards deplorability that roughly parallels his own fall.

The mirror-twin image of what Baudrillard might call "another hysterical and supernatural metaphor" may amount to a projection of Ambrosio's own femininity onto woman. Given that he shapes Matilda into an ideal figure of romantic desire, questions arise about how this image compliments or contrasts with the goals of patriarchy, with the experience of narcissism as defined by Krestiva in "Stabat Mater."

Baudrillard, in "Plastic Surgery for the Other," outlines an "hysterical projection by men of their femininity in the mythical image of woman." Matilda, as viewed through the eyes of Ambrosio seems a brilliant example of this particular mechanism, made all the more intriguing by the suggestions of her dual nature as both Virgin and Dæmon.

Ambroio's mind is like a movie projector or myth factory where illuminating symbols are wrought. In this way, a look at his view toward the character Matilda, yields a richly provocative series of metaphors.

It is important to immediately address this character as something other than human. Matilda is a simulacra, as is, in a way, the Madonna herself. Or she is a dopplegänger, a psychological projection or, to use the old-fashioned, simplistic signifier, she is a dæmon. Freud would likely assign her with the attributes of some repressed desires on the part of the asectic monk. Many in the West would seek to root out whether she was evil incarnate, or a mere projection of Ambroios' evil desires. This displaced loci of the feminine possibility finds expression via symbols that are wrought in the imagery that springs from Ambrosio's mind. There lies herein a suggestion that fear (of a possibly homophobic nature) underlies his drastic appraisal of Matilda as evil.

That Matilda acts with inexplicable treachery and deceit places her in an unfavorable position in the mind of all but the most imaginative of readers. But, this fact does not, in and of itself, warrant a wholesale condemnation or dismissal towards her as foul or evil.

Matilda, unfettered by the "vulgar prejudices" of religion and always quick to offer carefully reasoned (if spurious) arguments, is possibly herself a symbol of the rationalism of the enlightened "faith in reason."

 

In chronicling Matilda's descent through the eyes of Ambrosio, we see the following:

 

Matilda as Rosario (Male, Best Friend)

Matilda as Madona (Divine)

Matilda as Enchantress (Mortal)

Matilda as Seductress (Evil)

Matilda as Man (Cruel, Unfeminine)

Matilda as Harlot (Disgusting, Immodest)

Matilda as Witch (Rash, Immortal)

Matilda as Voyeur and Accomplice (to Murder)

Matilda as Agent of Lucifer (Monster)

 

 

From the start, Matilda occupies an exhalted positon according to Ambrosio, especially as a male and best friend. Ambroio wonders, for example, whether Matilda is "mortal" or "divine" (101). She at first possesses grace, symmetry, golden rindles, snowy bosom, etc., but as the narrative proceeds, she plummets in incremental stages towards that of a "prostitute" (224), infernal spirit corresponder and a cohort of Satan. The Divine Woman Symbol, the Madonna that Ambrosio worships for two years represents a great source of fear to him.

Freud, utilizing the scientific approach, attempts to explain the tendency of the Western male to debase the sexual object. In such analysis, he overlooks a possible spiritual fear that men had/have of a God-like woman.

Kristeva, writing in "Stabat Mater," articulates the Madonna as a denial of feminine power, the "virginal maternal," she argues is an effective way of dealing with "feminine paranoia."

The Virgin assumes her feminine denial of the other sex (of man) but overcomes him by setting up a third person: I do not conceive with you but with Him. The result is an immaculate conception (therefore with neither man nor sex), conception of a God with whose existence a woman has indeed something to do, on condition that she acknowledge being subjected to it.

The Virgin assumes the paranoid lust for power by changing a woman into a Queen in heaven and a Mother of the earthly institutions (of the Chruch). But she succeeds in stifling that megalomania by putting it on its knees before the child-god.

The Virgin obstructs the desire for murder or devoration by means of a strong oral cathexis (the breast), valorization of pain (the sob) and incitement to replace the sexed body with the ear of understanding.

The Virgin assumes the paranoid fantasy of being excluded from time and death through the very flattering representation of Dormition or Assumption.

The Virgin especialy agrees with the repudiation of the other woman (which doubtless amounts basically to a repudiation of the woman's mother) by suggesting the image a A Unique Woman: alone among women, alone among mothers, alone among humans since she is without sin. But the acknowledgement of a longing for uniqueness is immediately checked by the postulate according to which uniqueness is attained only through an exacerbated masochism: a concrete woman, worthy of the feminine ideal embodied by the Virgin as an inaccessable goal, could only be a nun, a martyr or, if she is married, one who leads a life that would remove her from the 'earthly' condition and dedicate her to the highest sublimation alien to her body...

Matilda is both dark power and in a reverse way parallels the uniqueness of a Virgin mother. When contrasted with the typical Gothic heroine: a young, attractive virgin, terrorized by evil forces and/or evil men, terminally helpless, frail, she is unique in her power and her knowledge.

Another interesting parallel which is undoubtedly deliberate, is that ascention of Matilda, who like the Madonna, escapes ordinary death and is lifted out of the prison.

Kristeva suggests, "It is likely that all beliefs in resurrections are rooted in mythologies marked by the strong dominance of a mother goddess." "Christianity, " she continues, "finds its calling in the displacement of that bio-maternal determinism through the postulate that immortality is mainly that in the name of the Father. But it does not succeed in imposing its symbolic revolution without relying on the feminine representation of an immortal biology."

Matilda, as we learn in the end, is actually another type of immortal figure. According to Lucifer's account of her origins, she reportedly sprang from Ambrosio's own mind, the product of his unruly passions - namely "pride," "vanity," and "lust" (418). This seems to be the best support for a notion of repressed desires as they are projected by Man in the image of Woman.

This displaced loci of the feminine possibility finds an interesting image in Matilda who, as both double copy of the Virgin and agent of Lucifer, represents an enigma. Such expressions serve only to point out the value of mystery (particularly of difference as Kristeva has suggested) and the limitations of ordinary language to address such questions.

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