IN SEARCH OF THE SUBJECT: ANGELA OF FOLIGNO AND HER MEDIATOR

The Blessed Angela of Foligno represents a primary figure of Italian mysticism whose testimony reveals a particular female religious sensitivity which transcends the geographical and chronological boundaries of her life. Still today her words captivate the modern reader for their degree of spirituality where asceticism and passion merge, and for the originality of a discourse where both the sacred and the human are intertwined and allowed to coexist.

The present analysis considers the concept of love in the Liber of the Blessed Angela of Foligno, and highlights the way in which this work originates from the synthesis of three distinct components: 1) the fourteenth-century social revival which allowed for women to take a more active part in religious life and gradually become the subject of religious writings; 2) the influence of earlier aspects of Christian tradition concerning love and mysticism which appear in the second section of the book called “Instructiones,” where theological issues are discussed; and 3) the emergence of a “feeling” and interiority which the Umbrian mystic shares with other religious women in different areas of Europe.

Within the first of these components lies the unique character of the actual text, also known as the Memorial, which delineates the saint’s mystical path to God. It is an account written by her confessor and spiritual guide, allegedly called Fra Arnaldo, who was likely identifiable with Fra Berardo Arnolti (see Sensi). The manuscript originated from a famous episode which occurred in Assisi in the church of St. Francis. As she was contemplating the crucifix, Angela cried out: “Love still unknown, why do you leave me? Love still unknown, why? why? why?” (142). Fra Arnaldo, suspecting that these were the words of the devil, decided to submit them to higher ecclesiastical authorities. This matter inevitably affected the friar in his role of mediator; he was conscientious, in any event, and had to deal with several practical difficulties as well, such as finding the opportunity to meet the holy woman without raising suspicion among his peers.

It is important to bear in mind that the difference between prophet and scribe, a well-known area of controversy for Biblical scholars, is one which is not far from the linguistic problem of negotiating meaning. While one person believes he or she is experiencing a mystical revelation of divine truth, often it is not the same person who writes an account of that message. In the case of the Memorial of the Blessed Angela of Foligno, we witness a clear example of this process. The woman, who has no direct access to the written word, clearly interacts with a mediator, Fra Arnaldo, who has agreed to write down her experience, “compelled to write by God.”^[1] The scribe is aware that the process will not be an easy one, and feels inadequate, so he says, and unworthy to complete the task. He considers himself rather like a “sieve or a sifter which does not retain the precious and refined flour but only the most coarse” (137).

The fact that there is a negotiation of meaning is demonstrated by Fra Arnaldo’s continual interruptions in which he asks his subject to clarify her words or to answer specific questions. Words relating to the semantic group of “asking” occur frequently, such as in the following examples: “I, brother scribe, began to question her and to urge her as strongly as I could and in every way I knew to oblige her to tell me why . . .” (139); “And to me, brother scribe, further questioning her, she answered as follows . . .” (152); “I, brother scribe, interrupted at this point to ask her if in this experience she saw something else in the body of Christ” (158); “Since I, brother scribe, questioned her about the above, Christ’s faithful one, in reply, sought to reaffirm how true it was . . .” (162). Fra Arnaldo also “asks,” “interrupts,” “summarizes,” “omits,” whereas Angela of Foligno “replies,” “relates,” “responds,” and “explains the meanings of words which sound obscure.” These words indicate that what was taking place was actually a dialogue, rather than a mere dictation. The questions asked by the friar occur in both direct and indirect speech, although the latter dominate.

Even though the friar insists that the written text originated from the Blessed Angela’s true words, and that he added nothing which would embellish or distort her account, he was playing the part of an editor. Hence the several recent studies devoted to the role of this mediator.^[2] When viewed in terms of the dichotomy between the language of thought and the language of feeling, new insights into the likelihood of the friar’s inaccuracy as a mediator become apparent. The nature of dictation implies the need to have thought out and already arranged the matter into the syntax of a phrase. At best, the person who dictates has a certain structure in mind, if not for the entire dictation, then at least for each individual paragraph. Whereas the text written by the friar is neatly arranged into thirty steps, Angela admits her difficulty in finding a language which met the highly emotional turmoil of her soul and is adequate to express the truth which comes from God. She cries in despair:

Is there any saint who can tell me something of this passion which I have not yet heard spoken of or related, but which my soul has seen, which is so great that I find no words to express it? (180)

These sentiments attest to the huge disparity between expressing clear thoughts, which is a prerequisite of successful dictation, and the immediacy of Angela’s words used to attempt to convey such powerful imagery as that which constitutes revelation.

A possible interpretation of the quoted lines could be to trace the theory of Pseudo-Dionysius as a subtext, in particular his rejection of any intelligible language when referring to the union with God, which should originate in the “mystical darkness of ignorance,” where non-knowledge is viewed as a form of understanding that transcends human nature. Pseudo-Dionysian influences do occur in the Instructions, as the following words demonstrate:

I am blinded, filled with darkness, and without any truth. Therefore, my sons, suspect, as from an Evil person, all the words you hear from me. (Instr. VII, 259)

On the other hand, applying a gender-based approach to the difficulty which Angela admits to have experienced, her lack of words can be seen as an indication of the problematic relationship between women and language. Cavarero points out the alienation that women always had to bear in Western cultures, which universalized the masculine gender into the “subject” of thought and philosophy:

The cruciality of the question resides in the possibility of the woman to speak herself, think herself, and represent herself as a subject in the proper sense of the word, that is, as a subject which thinks itself beginning from itself and can therefore recognize itself. (196)

What differentiates the act of communication between Angela and the scribe from many other works belonging to the category of the acts of the saints is the fact that here a woman is the speaking subject, actively participating and explicitly striving to affirm the voice from within. If we compare the book of the Blessed Angela with an older example of a biography of a woman saint, The Passio Sanctarum Perpetuae et Felicitatis, which relates the martyrdom of St. Perpetua,^[3] the significance of this new approach becomes all the more apparent. The older biography was in fact not mediated, but rather, the scribe introduces the hagiographic theme after a short proemium, and attributes the story to St. Perpetua, claiming she wrote it herself: “Now from this point on the entire account of her ordeal is her own, according to her own ideas and in the way that she herself wrote it down” (Musurillo 109). Also the account of Saturus, in the form of a vision, is likewise attributed to the martyr himself and the scribe’s hand appears only in the framework containing both the introduction and the conclusion.

In the Memorial, on the contrary, Fra Arnaldo intervenes in the narration, openly discussing his doubts and problems related to his delicate role. His voice often overlaps with Angela’s to the point that the author has to clarify when “I” refers to him and not to the woman mystic by saying “I, brother scribe.” Interestingly, Angela of Foligno presents herself as a subject who is aware of the gap between her oral message and the written form given to them. Early on in the manuscript the friar writes:

One day after I had written as best as I could what I had been able to grasp of her discourse, I read to her what I had written in order to have her dictate more to me, and she told me with amazement that she did not recognize it. On another occasion when I was rereading to her what I had written so that I could see if I had correctly recorded what she had said, she answered that my words were dry and without any savor, and this also amazed her. And another time she remarked to me: “Your words recall to me what I told you, but they are very obscure. The words you read to me do not convey the meaning I intended to convey, and as a result your writing is obscure.” And another time she said: “You have written what is bland, inferior, and amounts to nothing; but concerning what is precious in what my soul feels you have written nothing.” (137–38)

Did Fra Arnaldo read in Latin or did he rephrase in vernacular? In which of the two languages was he hastily taking down Angela’s spontaneous account of her unique itinerary to God? In trying to answer these questions, scholars remain divided.^[4] Yet the process through which the Memorial appeared places Angela of Foligno in a crucial position for all subsequent women writers. Most importantly, she represents an essential link in the chain of women who appropriated the written word. Angela of Foligno did not receive a formal education, she probably could not write herself, but, as Friar Arnaldo’s account demonstrates, she was not merely the passive object of his discourse. In fact, Angela of Foligno opens the way to a further development in the relationship between a woman’s voice and the written text which points to St. Catherine of Siena, who no longer needed a mediator between her thoughts and the written word. The phrase “I, brother scribe” is replaced by the usual formula with which the holy woman opens her correspondence: “I Caterina, useless servant of Jesus Christ.” The comparison between the Memorial and St. Catherine’s Letters also serves to complete the picture by delineating the last stage in the process of appropriation.

Catherine started out, like Angela, deprived of any formal education. Apparently, however, in 1337, she learned to write, beginning with her Dialogue, and following in the tradition of St. Paul to exert influence through her numerous epistles. In comparison with the Memorial, the Letters of St. Catherine are composed in a style more closely resembling speech. The idea to write an account of Angela’s revelation was not her own, but that of the friar. Thus, not only the form is predetermined, but also, the style has to conform to the genre of the lives of the saints. St. Catherine, on the other hand, had the freedom to write 1) herself, with no mediator, and 2) in the form of a letter, which allows for a more personalized style.

Some examples which best reveal the immediacy with which St. Catherine communicates in written form are found in her letters, where short incisive sentences prevail, along with the rhetorical device of frequent exclamations such as these lines where the friar quotes Angela in direct speech:

At which point Christ’s faithful one also expressed her amazement: “Oh! Nothing is written here about how sluggish the soul’s progress is! How bound it is, how shackled are its feet, and how ill served it is by the world and the devil.” (129)

Furthermore, St. Catherine’s example is not only interesting for her highly emotional style, but also because it places the issue of mediation in the proper perspective.

The issue of identifying the author of Angela’s Memorial becomes even more crucial when considering the Instructions, which seem to be written by more than one scribe. The theme of love considered as “unio mystica” appears in both works, although the majority of it is found in the former. Nonetheless, a theological discussion of divine love in its degrees and development is treated in the latter work, in which the Blessed Angela is presented as a spiritual mother.

First of all, we must bear in mind that Angela’s entire perception of love was nurtured by the Franciscan tradition and was strongly cross-centered. Early on in her life, when she gradually detached herself from her family and all things worldly, she convinced herself of the equivalence of “cross” with “love” (see Thier and Calufetti 29). Even though already married and in her mid-life, she underwent a process of self-annihilation through renunciation of clothing, food, and familial ties. After the death of her children, mother, and husband she embraced a life of absolute and uncompromising poverty, which placed her close to the Spirituals.^[5]

Before analyzing the mystical path to God as conveyed here, I will briefly examine the concept of divine love in the Instructions, taking into account the common denominators between Angela and several other medieval mystics. First of all, love is for the Blessed Angela a dynamic force of transformation which is self-sufficient, like it was for Bernard of Clairvaux, who stated in his De Diligendo Deo that the reason for loving God is God himself. In the second Instruction, we read a short treatise about the perils of spiritual love and the distinction between imperfect (or “suspect”) and perfect love. In principle, love is regarded as a force to fear:

There is nothing in the world, neither man nor devil, not anything that I hold as suspect as love, for it penetrates the soul more than any other thing. Nothing exists that so fills and binds the heart as love does. (221)

Also the idea of love that “binds” was circulated among the Victorines, and we find explicit mention of it in the treatise on love by Richard of St. Victor, who calls the unifying power of love “caritas ligans.” A reference to the wounds of love is also based on the Song of Songs with the image of the suffering lover.

In addition, love is regulated by three kinds of transformations. In the first, the soul strives to imitate Christ, in the second, it feels the consolation of God’s presence, and the third and most perfect one occurs in the mystical union, when the soul is transformed within God and God within the soul. Love also has the following properties:

the soul first grows tender, then it pines and grows weak, and afterwards finds strength. When the soul feels the heat of divine love, it cries out and moans. It is like a stone flung in the forge to melt into lime; it crackles when it is licked by the flames, but after it is baked makes not a sound. (223)

Also important is the fact that the suffering of the soul is a necessary step to reach the “mystical death,” the complete detachment from the self to follow the example of Christ and reach perfect unity with Him. The pining of the heart crying out for God echoes St. Augustine’s words in the opening passage of his Confessions: “or Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless until it repose in Thee.”^[6]

In Instruction VI, Angela indicates three ways to reach true love:

The first sign of true love is that the lover submits his will to that of the Beloved. And this most spatial and singular love works in three ways.

First, if the loved one is poor, one strives to become poor, and if scorned, to be scorned.

Second, it makes one abandon all other friendship which could be contrary to this love, and leave behind father, mother, sister, brother, and all other affections contrary to the will of the Beloved.

Third, one can keep nothing hidden from the other. (258–59)

These features of the theory of divine love, combined with the textual concerns presented earlier, will help us to better understand the Blessed Angela’s mystical message as it appears in the Memorial. Most importantly for Angela, talking about divine love in terms of the lover and the Beloved is a feature of mysticism which owes its origins to the interpretation of the Song of Songs in the sermons of St. Bernard, who always designates Christ as the Bridegroom. The same symbolism of the bride and the groom accompanies the path to the union with God in the Memorial.

First of all, the woman mystic wishes to unite herself with God following the example of Christ, identifying completely with the latter. Yet Christ is at the same time God and the passionate Beloved. From this perspective, we can observe the overlapping of Christ with the “bel amics” of the women troubadours in a process which one scholar has already detected in other women mystics.^[7] The path toward subjectivity for women was strongly aided by various fourteenth-century developments, such as the more active participation of women in religious life throughout Europe.^[8] This is true of Umbria, where cloisters flourished and where the existence of communities similar to those of the Northern European beguines is documented. In the same years of Angela’s religious activity, Mechtild of Magdeburg recorded her spiritual biography under the direction, predictably, of a male scribe, the friar Henry of Halle who edited the manuscript. In the Low Countries, the beguine Hadewijch combined the themes and formal virtuosity of courtly love with her religious testimony of devotion to Christ.

The popularity of such mystical currents can be explained by the fact that they provided the only means for women to freely express love in sensual terms. The flourishing of mystical writings might be a consequence of its acceptability in the male-dominated culture of the time, who would have otherwise never tolerated a women writer to express love under these terms.^[9] However, even if we acknowledge the importance of the fourteenth-century European context, the question of direct influence both of women troubadours and of other women mystics on Angela of Foligno remains open. Yet, when we read of Angela’s mystical marriage to Christ, we can interpret it as the reaffirmation of one woman’s subjectivity, which is indeed the most important link between these women. Although a necessary condition to the spirituality of the mystic is a degree of passivity to permit the soul to become the recipient of God,^[10]on the other hand, the experience is unique and reminds us that the subject has been chosen. A recent article by Carole Slade discusses the religious experience of Margery Kempe and Angela of Foligno, and highlights how both women establish a relationship with the divinity which does not deny their alterity. According to this reading, the transcendent would enable the woman to expand the dimension of her individuality, which found no space in patriarchal society. Also the provençal women troubadours had sought to explore the new dimension of their interiority as poets, but it is equally necessary to bear in mind that the need to affirm their own subject manifested itself first of all in women, either beguines or nuns, who stood out of the social institution of marriage and could therefore be in a position to “feel” and pursue new factors of change with more freedom.

A key stage in mysticism is the search for God’s presence in the soul, which, at the same time becomes a process of self-knowledge. Angela of Foligno describes the words of Christ as the following: “My daughter, sweeter to me than I am to you, my temple, my delight, the heart of God almighty is now upon your heart” (148) and Angela’s last revelation from Christ in the XXXVI Instruction reads thus: “You have become suitable to be with me and have attained a most high place before my majesty” (315). A woman becomes here a “temple” of Christ, no longer the sinful tempter, and we might ask ourselves if mysticism was so popular among women because it enabled them to escape from the condition of silence and subordination which was still forced upon them by patriarchy.

Women had never been allowed to have a voice. In the case of the Blessed Angela, we can choose to believe that several of her words were put into her mouth by the friar. On the other hand, it is also possible that talking with the friar actually facilitated the perception of the self as a subject:

“While I was writing,” she also told me: “I would have scruples about divulging what I am telling you, were it not for words in which was told that the more I speak and continue to speak about what is happening to me, the more it will remain with me.” (154)

Works Cited

Brufani, Stefano. “Angela da Foligno e gli Spirituali.” Menestò 83–104.

Cavarero, Adriana. “Towards a Theory of Sexual Difference.” The Lonely Mirror. Ed. Sandra Kamp and Paula Bono. London and New York: Routledge, 1993. 189–221.

Coppini, Beatrice. La scrittura e il percorso mistico. Roma: Bulzoni, 1976.

Guarnieri, Romana. “Angela Mistica Europea.” Menestò 39–82.

Guiducci, Armanda. Medioevo Inquieto. Firenze: Sansoni, 1990.

Lachance, Paul, trans., Angela of Foligno: Complete Works. New York: Paulist, 1993.

LaValva, Rosamaria. “The Language of Vision in Angela da Foligno’s Liber de vera fidelium experientia.” Stanford Italian Review 11 (1991): 103–22.

Menestò, Enrico. “Problemi critico testuali nel ‘Liber’ della Beata Angela.” Angela da Foligno, Terziaria Francescana: Atti del Convegno storico nel VII centena
rio dell’ingresso della Beata Angela da Foligno nell’Ordine Francescano Secolare (1291–1991), Foligno, November 17–19, 1991. Ed. Enrico Menestò. Spoleto: Centro Italiano di Studi sull’Alto Medioevo, 1992. 161–80.

Musurillo, Herbert, trans. The Acts of the Christian Martyrs. Oxford: Clarendon, 1972.

Sensi, Mario. “Fra Berardo Arnolti il ‘frater scriptor’ del Memoriale di Angela?” Menestò 126–44.

Slade, Carole. “Alterity in Union: The Mystical Experience of Angela of Foligno and Margery Kempe.” Religion and Literature 23 (1991): 109–26.

Thier, L., and A. Calufetti, eds. Il libro della Beata Angela da Foligno. Edizione critica. Grottaferrata: Specilegium bonaventurianum, 1985.

^[1]Paul Lachance, trans., Angela of Foligno: Complete Works 124. All further quotations are taken from this volume with the page number in parentheses.

^[2]See Lachance, Introduction to Angela of Foligno: Complete Works; Menestò; Thier and Calufetti.

^[3]The passio describes the arrest, trial, and ordeal of St. Perpetua, Felicitas, Revocatus, Saturninus, Secundulus, who were young catechumens of the African church and died along with Saturus, the one who converted them to Christianity.

^[4]Thier and Calufetti assumes there were two redactions of the book, the more complete having been written in Latin after a first minor work had been approved by Cardinal Colonna; Menestò listened to the word that Angela told him and wrote them directly in Latin as the notaries used to do, therefore the existing manuscripts in vernacular would be a translation of the original text in Latin; Lachance argues that the scribe might have written down Angela's words in vernacular at first, repeated them to her in vernacular and the translated into Latin.

^[5]The link between the Blessed Angela of Foligno and the Spirituals has been recently analyzed by Stefano Brufani, "Angela da Foligno e gli Spirituali."

^[6]Angela of Foligno felt a kinship with the spirituality of St. Francis, but also to the Scriptures of St. Paul and St. John. In addition, the image of the soul touched by the flame of divine God is a recurring image not only in Chatherine of Siena, but also in Jacopone of Todi, who was a contemporary of Angela and lived near Foligno.

^[7]"Questa singolare, esaltante trasfigurazione dell'esperienza d'amore profana in mistica fu il legame che unì l'opera di talune grandi beghine scrittrici fra loro diverse, come Mechtild di Magdeburgo, Hadewijch, Margherita Porete" (Guiducci 228–29).

^[8]An extensive study of Angela of Foligno in the context of European women mystics has recently been presented by Romana Guarnieri.

^[9]An interesting article about Angela's language in her visions has been published by Rosamaria LaValva, "The language of vision in Angela da Foligno's Liber de vera fidelium experientia.”

^[10]The different steps for the mystical journey to God is extensively analyzed by Beatrice Coppini (31–40).