University of Illinois at Chicago
On a seventeenth century stage, against the backdrop of Habsburg Madrid, a vivacious actress prances around in green breeches while maneuvering those around her through an intricate web of lies and intrigues. This performative visual in Tirso de Molina’s Don Gil de las calzas verdes [Don Gil of the Green Breeches], is a sight suspended in time that continues to engage contemporary scholars of the Spanish Comedia. Many critics such as Melveena McKendrick, Edward Friedman, and Matthew Stroud have contributed valuable theoretical explorations of gender, performance, and power to the field. In the last several decades, Teresa Scott Soufas, Anita Stoll, and Catherine Connor, searching to recover the lost voices of women in Spanish culture have recognized the comedia as a site richly permeated with negotiations of gender and class strife, furnishing new understandings of cultural discourses of the period. Despite these efforts there lingers a reluctance to open this play to further considerations due to its parodic nature. The socio-cultural nuances of the unique transvestite character in Don Gil are in fact as complex as the myriad twists and turns of the plot. When investigating the formation of identity in the slippery text of the capa y espada [cape and sword] genre characterized by illicit courtships and dubious marriages, it is fundamental to consider the characters as performing a contentious dialogue of resistance and reinforcement of the hierarchical ideology. After all, Spain was experiencing an era of cultural expansion and massive urbanization at a period of economic and political dissonance. The theater, as a product of early modern evolution, deserves to be examined concomitantly with its contentious surroundings in order to attain substantive meanings.
In this respect, the polymorphic transvestite woman, popularized in the comedia de capa y espada, articulates significantly deeper insights into the creation of the Self than has originally been noted, due to its variant socio-historical inscriptions. This study aims to reach a more sophisticated analysis of both women and men, through the exploration of this seminal role, during a period of acute political, religious, and social change in Spain. After considering poignant social discourses of the period, the cross-dressing protagonist in Don Gil de las calzas verdes will be shown to derive from men’s anxiety over effeminacy and homosexuality, rooted in the traditional fear of women. These phobias paradoxically materialize and lead to a feminization of society and a subjectivization of women masterfully illustrated in the play.
In 1605, Philip III famously declared “Sólo Madrid es corte” [Only Madrid is Court] and so it transpired. Madrid, as the permanent location of the court, became the paradigm of identity formation that society aspired to emulate. The contemporary models of masculinity and femininity embraced a whole new set of principles and ideals that competed with the classical values. Of interest to this study is Susan Paun de García’s research on the disillusionment of María de Zayas y Sotomayor over the new Spanish deteriorated masculine ideal at court. The critic comments on how far gone were the days of the noble knights that defended faith, lady, land and honor. A “new world order” was commencing triggered by several major historical occurrences: the victorious Reconquest; the Conquest of the New World; the decline of Spanish hegemony positioning France as the most powerful European nation; the political deterioration of the Hapsburgs; the moral decadence of the governing bureaucracy made up of notorious favorites; the ostentatious courts of Philip III, and especially Philip IV, driven by overindulgence and the epicurean lifestyles of the courtiers (258). The honorable virtues of knighthood were now substituted by the mercantile ideals of wealth, greed and impropriety (259). This early modern deteriorated identity was engrained in the court and illustrated in the Madrid of Don Gil de las calzas verdes. The coveted city of the elite was infamous as being the new Babel often referred to in the play1. The cardinal sins also run rampant in this ostentatious urban setting indelibly grounded in the courts of Philip III and reaching their zenith in that of Philip IV. In Don Gil de las calzas verdes, Tirso presents this unleashed personal desire typical of the times, driven by greed and lust accentuated in the battle for wealthy patrimonies, family titles, illicit monies, opulent dowries, licentious sex and lies.
Significant cultural developments played a defining role in seventeenth century dramaturgy. The art of illusion epitomized Spanish Baroque culture and produced self-fashioning manifestations such as the mujer vestida de hombre [woman in masculine disguise]. The emergence of cross-dressed women on the Golden Age stage took head shortly after actresses began to perform in the mid-1500’s2. The representation of women in male garb in the Spanish corral de comedias or open-air playhouse, figured as a phenomenal inverted mirror-image of what was being witnessed simultaneously in the popular theaters of England –boys impersonating women. Morality and licitness played a decisive role in the evolution of the theater. In Ursula Heise’s comparative study on transvestism in Spain and England, she explains that Spanish legislature, unlike English, rigidly prohibited transvestite boy actors due to a heightened anxiety over sodomy in government and culture3. It is precisely this fear of deviant behavior among men that opened the door for women actresses. Heise contends that the profusion of female transvestite roles at the beginning of the seventeenth century is a direct result of outlawing transvestite boys (n.40 366). Hence, after years of shifting laws over female transvestism in the theater, actresses were finally granted the freedom to work in 16004. The freedom to perform gender-bending roles continued to be negotiated, challenged, thwarted and recovered throughout the seventeenth century (359). The controversy surrounding the liberties of professional actresses and their illicit behavior on and off the stage served to heighten their appeal.
The resolution of 1600 undoubtedly opened the path to a plethora of opportunities for actresses now permitted to play female, young male and transvestite roles. Female homoeroticism, contrary to male, was widely accepted and didn’t incite serious concern. Sherry Velasco asserts that in the seventeenth century lesbianism “does not pose a threat to the patriarchal order as does heterosexual love outside the legal confines of marriage (“María de Zayas and Lesbian Desire in Early Modern Spain” 13-14). Mary Elizabeth Perry also contends that female-female desire was not considered a sin “against nature” as was homosexuality delineated in Alfonso X’sLas Siete Partidas (Gender and Disorder 123). The homosexual inference in the attraction between a woman impersonating a man and another woman was seen as physically non-invasive and therefore not considered a serious crime. Perry underscores where the root of the homosexual problem really lied for religious and secular authority:
…the real crime of sodomy was not in ejaculating nonprocreatively, nor in the use of the anus, but in requiring a male to play the passive “female” role and in violating the physical integrity of a male recipient’s body. In this view, females only could be receptacles for semen, their biological integrity “naturally” inviting this invasion of their inner physical space (125).
Hence, women misbehaving with other women on and off the stage were not serious offenses of natural law due to their lack of penis and low risk of penetration. The fascinating paradox embedded in the rise of the female transvestite is that it evolved from the salient fear of a homosexual, more specifically, a paedophilia subculture (Heise 364), inadvertently giving way to female subjectivity in the theater. These cultural anxieties are inherently inscribed in theatrical performance.
Marjorie Garber closely links the evolution of female transvestism to theater (Vested Interests 48-49). It was the Golden Age theater, as a site of convergence between art and life, and as a platform for subjectivity that became auspicious towards the convention of cross-dressing. Transvestism, rooted in carnival, is highly polyphonic. Mikhail Bakhtin sees “heterglossia” (raznogolosost’) as a fundamental element of carnival (Rabelais and His World x). As such, it is legitimate to interpret the female transvestite as embodying a wide range of social discourses. Transvestism is a multifaceted ruse used to provoke laughter, to gratify voyeurism, and to challenge the debates on gender and class in seventeenth century Spain. The comedic nature of the comedia de capa y espada also enhanced the production of variant effects which simultaneously subverted as well as reinforced societal norms. In regards to the embedded female subject, these amusing plays afforded a safe forum in which to challenge the status quo by revealing the constructedness and performative nature of the female gender and by articulating the unfair treatment of women particularly that of the upper-class. In the name of performance and humor, transvestism was received enthusiastically by the public, interpreting this convention in varying ways. The true meaning and impact of this highly charged ruse encompasses a social reality that goes beyond surface appearances and is difficult to assess almost four hundred years later. Examining the transvestite in the socio-cultural context is key to acquiring a more insightful reading of this complex character.
Feminine nature has been traditionally classified as mutable and unstable. These fluctuating and superficial characteristics correlate with Judith Butler’s theory of gender “as a shifting and contextual phenomenon, gender does not denote a substantive being, but a relative point of convergence among culturally and historically specific set of relations” (Gender Trouble 10). Woman as gender in the seventeenth century is a result of variant contemporary political, cultural and religious discourses. Butler’s notion of gender as a performative act, rooted in Jane Austin’s Speech Act theory, identifies the subject as acting a role or acting a gender, constructed by specific sources of power. The comedia de capa y espada is a site where the assumptions on the naturalness of gender identity are continually being challenged and subverted. The transvestite is an exemplary character of continuous gender performance. The shifting performances are not isolated acts of defiance; they question the socially constructed gender paradigm. The transvestite is particularly emblematic of gender performativity because she adopts outward male signifiers represented in masculine clothing, speech and behavior; the recognizable components of gender, to facilitate her quest.
The feminist film theorist Mary Anne Doane, views sexual mobility as an inherent cultural characteristic of femininity. Doane underlines the fact that women can oscillate between genders more naturally than men and because of this ability, are more likely to take on transvestite roles. She writes,
The acceptability of the female reversal is quite distinctly opposed to the male reversal which seems capable of representation only in terms of farce. Male transvestism is an occasion for laughter; female transvestism only another occasion for desire (“Film and the Masquerade” 20).
Doane sees the image of the transvestite as a ‘cultural construction of femininity’. The woman transforms into a spectacle of desire. Transvestism allowed women to wear tights, a visual transgression that, however assertive, plays up to men’s voyeuristic appetite and to the objectification of women. In contrast to this convention, an overt womanliness emanates from both the female and male traits of the transvestite in the character Don Gil de las calzas verdes. The transference of femininity to the male image extends the treatment of object to men as well.
One of the most unforgettable and unique examples of a cross-dressing woman on the Golden Age stage is Tirso’s ingenious and unscrupulous protagonist Juana. This particular female transvestite stands-out for its unprecedented depiction of the gendered body and female desire. What instantly sets her apart from most other cross-dressers is her captivating allure as a feminine ‘donjuanesque’ man or burlador afeminado [effeminate beguiler], contrary to the conventional manly mujer vestida de hombre. She takes control over every character in the play by assuming a flirtatious male identity that is empowered by a peculiar effeminacy. Tirso’s queer slant on this cross-dressing character affords intriguing nuances about gender, desire and society previously overlooked in other studies.
A valuable theoretical source that can help explain the correlation between female desire and male effeminacy in the play is René Girard’s insights concerning the nature of desire. In his theory of mimetic, triangular, or mediated desire – all interchangeable terms – he explains that the source of desire is an imitation, or mimesis of a role model. Mimetic desire does not emanate from within and is not individualized. Girard locates the root of mimetic desire, “neither in the subject nor in the object, but in a third party whose desire is imitated by the subject (3). A triangle of desire evolves between the exemplary mediator, the subject and the object.
In Don Gil de las calzas verdes, there are two triangles of desire due to the play within a play theme. Juana, a young noblewoman of Valladolid, is the subject in both dimensions, reality and illusion. Her desires and ambitions do not emanate from within her. She derives them from her imitation, or mimesis, of her selected paradigms. In the context of reality, she is driven by her desire to become an honorable married woman, with enhanced societal privileges. Her object of desire is Martín, a man representative of the wealthy noble class. The battle of the sexes ensues with Juana’s histrionic plot to regain her forlorn lover and Martín desperately seeking to seduce a more profitable match in Madrid.
It is in the second relational triangle where desire is conceptualized to illuminate a culture of imitation in society previously overlooked in the play. A close-reading of Juana’s character reveals that she derives her new identity from a specific male paradigm, not simply the male gender itself. To ensure her lover’s fulfillment of his matrimonial promise, she chooses a popular image as a secure disguise. She penetrates the public and mobile world of the pretendiente at court. This socio-political figure is the infamous Madrid courtier. In this way, Juana’s mediator – the pretendiente – molds her desires and mandates their objects. As a recognized libertine, Inés and Clara, two wealthy aristocratic cousins from Madrid become her prized targets. Juana undertakes an impressive transformation of the self through the disguise of the presumptuous and promiscuous pretendiente who will be shown to be a contemporary displacement from the traditional patriarchal male paradigm.
Inherently connected to the mediation of desire is the subtext of transvestism itself. In Don Gil de las calzas verdes, the appearance of Juana/transvestite inscribes variant meanings of desire. In this figure, the signifiers of the masculine are superimposed on those of the feminine to create a matrix of gender identity. Juana boldly appropriates masculine attire, rhetoric, code of behavior and class distinction representative of the pretendiente. She adopts the male name “Don Gil”, the same appellative that her wanton betrothed fabricates for his own scheme to secure his marriage to Inés and seek a position at the Palace. Juana’s scheme to outsmart and sabotage her rival Martín’s marital aspirations in Madrid articulates her own desire to overpower male social prerogatives as well as illustrates her mimetic performance of the self-indulgent pretendiente5. Juana cross-dresses gaining access and mobility in the masculine space of the city, a complete departure from the impotence of the feminine domestic sphere. According to Mary Ann Doane, “The transvestite adopts the sexuality of the other – the woman becomes a man in order to attain the necessary distance from the image” (81). Teresa Soufas admits that “cross-dressing enhances a woman’s relationship to the depicted sources of power” (Dramas of Distinction 113). Dressing in male clothing grants her the psychoanalytic phallic power that transports her from Valladolid to the streets of Madrid completely unnoticed6. Many critics have simply chosen to interpret Juana’s transvestite performance as an outrageous parody of the mujer vestida de hombre or as misogynist convention, but these interpretations are exceedingly reductive7.
When discussing transvestism or drag it serves to quote Butler’s perspective on gender imitation. Butler asserts, that “In imitating gender, drag implicitly reveals the imitative structure of gender itself-as well as its contingency (137). Transvestism or drag is a parody of “the very notion of an original” identity (138). Butler argues convincingly that “Parody by itself is not subversive. (…) A typology of actions would clearly not suffice, for parodic displacement, indeed, parodic laughter, depends on a context and reception” (139). Juana, the female transvestite can be interpreted as a parody embodying subversive traits since she is embedded in a culturally salient context permeated by antagonistic discourses. The parody is not of women though, but of men. The winner of the battle of the sexes is the person who masters the performance of identity, that of the pretendiente. Tirso seems to dramatize further notions about contemporary gender and class in a heightened emasculated society. Hence, this feminization of Juana-Gil serves two objectives: on one hand, to critique or parody a new deteriorated masculine identity; and on the other, to recognize female subjectivity.
Juana’s complex shenanigans and transformations exemplify the Baroque period for its manipulation of appearance and reality. Juana’s transvestism should be analyzed as the interplay of class and gender weaved into her male disguise. Marjorie Garbor argues that Renaissance sumptuary laws were “overwhelmingly concerned with wealth or rank, and with gender largely as it was a subset of those categories (Vested Interests 20). Garbor continues to explain that “transvestism was located at the juncture of ‘class’ and ‘gender,’ and increasingly through its agency gender and class were revealed to be commutable, if not equivalent” (32). In this light, it is essential to register the social status Juana adopts as a man and not confine her to ontological or even biological identifications. It is contextually revealing that Tirso creates a shrewd transvestite, who understands money, occupation and women as the leverage with which men negotiate their surroundings. In a time when money bought positions, titles and alliances, in a powerful court, Madrid offered new opportunities to those seeking lucrative returns. In the play, Juana astutely assumes the infamous and salient role of a court pretendiente as her mimetic ideal.
The age of the pretendiente at court begins after the ascension of Philip III and his favorite the Duke of Lerma. J.H. Elliot notes that counter to the austerity and frugality of King Philip II, his son accepted the presence of grandees in the palace ending the Habsburg custom of denying residence to the higher aristocracy in the Court (Imperial Spain 312). This new auspicious court attracted many indebted and desperate nobles to the city in the hopes of acquiring monies or titles from increased services to the King. Elliot states that despite the severe economic challenges facing the aristocracy, they continued to maintain lavish lifestyles. José N. Alcalá-Zamora underscores their disdain for physical work and their obsession to live beyond their means -‘vivir noblemente’ [living in nobleman fashion] – doing nothing but living off of the rent and pursuing the King’s generosity (105-106)8. In the play, Martín arrives in Madrid to seek a position at the Palace, the Alcazar, where it is assumed, he is to present documentation for soliciting a courtly position.
In his insightful edition of Don Gil de las calzas verdes, Zamora Vicente remarks that one of the most representative figures of the court at the time was precisely the pretendiente. Juana explains to Caramanchel, a servant, her reason for coming to Madrid, “(…) vengo a pretender aquí/ un hábito o encomienda…” [I’m here to claim a coat of arms/Or seek a grant of letters patent] (497-98)9. Her trip from Valladolid to Madrid historically outlines the same path that many struggling or impoverished nobles undertook. Zamora Vicente underscores the socio-economic subtext of Juana’s character and her situation. Her anger with Martin’s father’s aspiration to ascend socially and economically through his son’s marriage to Inés, dramatizes the problematic marriage of mayorazgos – first born inheritors. The institution of the mayorazgo [entail system] initiated in the Cortes of 1505, placed money and territory in the hands of fewer people and hence, a monopolization occurred to the eventual detriment of many aristocratic families10. Aristocratic victims of the entail system searched for assistance in the pretendiente post at court. The pretendiente sought ecclesiastic positions, knighthoods and many other types of courtly commissions. The dispositions were lengthy and oftentimes pretendientesspent years wandering the court and city waiting for their petitions to be granted (n.497-502 123). Angel Valbuena Prat also underscores the marked presence of these Spanish wandering characters: “Madrid es también el lugar de los pretendientes de palacio siempre esperando, y oyendo siempre ‘mañana’: ‘El patio de palacio, archivo de novedades, ya mentiras ya verdades, donde todos pasean despacio’” [Madrid is also the domain of the palace courtiers continually waiting, and hearing always ‘tomorrow’: ‘The courtyard of the palace archive of news, lies and truths, where everyone strolls slowly’] (El teatro español en su Siglo de Oro 144).
These infamously dishonest and avaricious pretendientes were recognized by the Court and eventually ordered in 1611 to return to their estates without much success (Elliot 315; Alcalá-Zamora 106). Zamora Vicente notes the commonly held negative opinion of these gallivanting courtiers,
…Lo cierto es que la figura del pretendiente en corte aparece muchas veces y, probable- mente es la raíz del paseante en corte, ya del XIX, para designar a las personas de oficio y vida desconocidos que pululaban por Madrid (123). […The truth is that the figure of the courtier at court appears frequently and, is probably the predecessor of the wanderer at court, from the XIX century, to define those people of nebulous occupation and life that roamed through Madrid]11
Furthermore, this critic quotes Fernández de Navarrete’s condemnation of these parasitic figures: “Si algún camino podría haber para extinguir en las Cortes el medio de los favores e intercesiones venales, había de ser el de la brevedad en el despacho de los pretendientes” (n. 501-02 124) [If there were a way to extinguish the means of favors and venal intercessions, it would occur through the brevity of the service of the courtier]. The derided position of the pretendiente at court serves to expose the impotence of the male elite. Tirso dramatizes the contemporary phenomenon of this disruptive role in society through the myriad schemes and machinations of Juana and Martín. Don Gil de las calzas verdes, is the lead representation of this incisively deteriorated figure. As such, Juana chooses a name to suit the ignoble lineage of the male pretendiente disguise. The very name “Don Gil” is an oxymoron of sorts, since “Gil” is a typical shepherd or rustic name that would not normally precede the title “don”12. The decoration of the name “Gil” with the noble “Don” pokes fun at the superficiality of class titles.
Paun de García describes a decadent paradigm of masculinity venerated and mimicked by the masses13. She reveals through examining Maria de Zayas’s diatribe concerning the masculine that, “the ideal male was no longer the chaste warrior but rather the unrepentant libertine, as ostentatious in his sexual conquests and transgressions as in his ‘feminine’ dress, a metaphor for the muliebris military male” (259). Zayas’ accuses the courtiers of vices Juana-Gil assumes in the play. The playwright criticizes that men waste their time “(…) paseando prados, y que en lugar de defendernos, nos quitéis la opinión y el honor, contando cuentos que os suceden con damas, que creo que son más invenciones de malicia que verdades…” [(…) strolling through parks and gallivanting in carriages instead of defending us? On top of that, you ruin our good name and our honor by telling tales about your love affairs, which I think are more malicious fiction than fact!] (264)14.
Juana-Gil’s first stop in Madrid is La Huerta del Duque, an idyllic park frequented by the blithe nobility. Through a bribe, she discovers that Inés and her father are meeting her lover Martin, who now goes by the alias Don Gil de Albornoz, at this location. Juana disguised as the graceful Don Gil de las calzas verdes manages to woo both Inés and her cousin Clara before Martín gets a chance to deceive them. The editor Zamora Vicente, makes note of this particular problem, stating that the court was faced with many noblemen who assumed worthless titles and passed their time seducing women (n. 536 128). The libertine prided himself in his ability to mislead women and trick them into having sexual relations. The preoccupation over matters of love and desire, conventionally a woman’s past time, becomes a man’s inclination as well, producing fallacious identities; fluid and seamless outlines of gender. Juana, as the stereotypical pretendiente, is a thrill seeker who takes pleasure in humiliating her rival Martín, and in hoaxing those around her: “…confuso se aflige/ (…) ni yo ceso de reírme” […grievously confused;/ (…) And I’ve just laughed and laughed with glee] (1079-1078). She has no scruples and highly enjoys performing different identities and genders: Juana manages to confuse every character involved, stringing them along like puppets. A victory of this sort exemplifies weak and deficient honor existent at the time. The altered image of masculinity is now feminized or “afeminado”. Paun de García quotes Gary Spear’s definition of the term “effeminate” as follows, “[it] could signal and signify widely divergent phenomena, from male physical weakness to love excessive pleasure (especially sexual pleasure with women), or an antiheroic military ethos“ (266). Effeminate includes possessing defective qualities stereotypically associated with women, such as: a preoccupation for trivial conversations, frivolous lifestyles, deceitful and scheming nature. The feminine classically depicted as inferior and deficient, lacking temperance, modesty, and morality, emerges as the distinguishing male traits emulated by the cross-dressed Juana-Gil.
Juana-Gil represents the effeminate masculinity in Madrid. Dressed in male garb she exemplifies the unmanly man and deconstructs the signifiers of masculine gender socially inscribed in attire, behavior, speech, voice, and beard. By assuming an alias that makes reference to her breeches instead of her lineage in the name Don Gil “de las calzas verdes”, Tirso turns the attention to clothing and color as qualifiers of identity. Vernon Chamberlain and Jack Weiner interpret the color green in the seventeenth century to be a symbol of eroticism15. Hence, Juana’s green breeches dressed as a fashionable aristocrat are color coded to signify the sexual prowess of this persona; traditionally a feminine faculty. The sound of her voice is also a telling mark of femininity. Caramanchel immediately remarks on the womanly voice of Juana-Gil, “Qué bonito/que es el tiple moscatel!” [Ah, how the young/Unbroken voice can cast a spell!] (535-36). A voice that is qualified as tiple is a high pitched voice like that of a woman or a child. In addition, Caramanchel makes numerous remarks regarding Juana-Gil’s beardless face and lack of patrimony, identifying him as a eunuch:
Capón sois hasta en el nombre;
Pues si en ello se repara,
Las barbas son en la cara
Lo mismo que el sobrenombre (519-522).[Your name is like a capon too;
And if one takes a closer peek,
The dearth of whiskers on your cheek
Is like your surname – Don Gil who?]
The deficit of masculine identifiers that represent socially prescribed signifiers of the hegemonic is addressed through the derogatory label “capón”. Carmen Bravo-Villasante in her seminal study on the mujer vestida de hombre, originally interpreted these feminine qualifiers of high voice, capón and youthful appearance as conventional characteristics of the transvestite in cases where the protagonist’s disguised gender was ambiguous (163-166). The extent of the meaning of Juana-Gilcapón goes well beyond Bravo-Villasante’s comments and reveals other underlying cultural discourses. The tag of ‘eunuch’ although commonplace in transvestite comedies as Gail Bradbury underscores, carries a social significance that contributes to our understanding of sexuality in the seventeenth century. The audience of this period would have immediately made a connection between the female voiced capón in the play and the eunuchs of the Roman Catholic Church. The castrati were known throughout Europe and were coveted for their bel canto performed in church choirs. According to Stephen Orgel, The Vatican castrati participated in secular events as well:
They played the romantic women’s parts in entertainments for the exclusive male society of the Catholic hierarchy. In this respect the boys were not at all desexualized; on the contrary, they enabled the introduction of overt sexuality, simultaneously hetero-sexual and homosexual, into the world of ecclesiastical celibacy (66).
The humorous reference of Juana-Gil as a soft-skinned seductive capón contributes a level of subversive sexuality to the character hitherto disregarded. The fact that the eunuch actors were sexual spectacles for the male clergy in the seventeenth century suggests an oblique parallel reference in the corral de comedias. Through Juana-Gil-capón’s association with the performing castrati the male spectators can be seen to be similarly attracted to the spectacle, therefore further contributing to the homosexual undertones of the play.
Another reference to this topic that provides additional meaning to Juana-Gil-capón occurs in the Act III. With the aim of arousing Inés’ jealousy, Caramanchel discloses to her that Don Gil spent the evening with Elvira: “…aunque es lampiño el don Gil,/en obras y en nombre es verde” [For though Don Gil/is beardless, when it comes to deeds,/despite his name he’s far from green] (2224-2225). Zamora Vicente explains Tirso’s understanding of lampiño as someone who lacks genital organs, yet defines verde as a connotation of youthful vigor and strength (n.2224 236). This image of Don Gil de las calzas verdes as a sexually active eunuch may also be a reference to a portion of these men. Eunuchs were known to have the capacity of sexual performance if castrated after puberty16. There were women, who presumably fancied intercourse with sexually assertive eunuchs because of their extended capacity for erections and the impossibility of pregnancy.
The capón’s lack of a phallus clearly marks an absence of honor, courage, duty and authority. Juana-Gil may also represent the feeble protectors of the Palace. Paun de García interestingly notes that the unwilling, laggard nobles who represented Philip IV’s army were nicknamed “eunuchs” for their cowardly nature when expected to take up arms (259). Marcel Defourneaux confirms that the King had to “cajole and threaten the nobility to accompany him” when attacking the French in Catalonia (60). ‘Eunuch’ as a popular epithet was commonly used to caricaturize masculine frailty and ambiguity. Therefore, the use of “capón” to describe Don Gil, may be interpreted as a jeer to humiliate the reputed mock-heroes of the court as well as a reference to the castration fear representative of Spain’s deprived virility. In this light, it seems plausible to assume that Caramanchel’s insult of capón is directed at several targets: the transvestite Juana-Gil, the revered castrati, promiscuous eunuchs, the emasculated male aristocratic society, and as an extension, the idle and unproductive men in the audience.
Another well-documented source of emasculation in the court entered the country from rival France. Paun de García explains that the ‘softness’ of masculine identity was marked by importing the French effeminate behavior of men. She describes the French as a “nation of eunuchs” (265), completely void of heroism, immersed in an environment of female coquetry, desire and idleness. To take on the identity of a feminine male in society is to debase masculinity since it counteracts the male virtues of honor, sobriety and chivalry. Paun de García concurs as well:
Once the paragon of chivalry, the knight (“caballero”) has become the unrepentant libertine, a sexual presence instead of a military might. Rather than wear the symbolic cross of the military order that previously defined a true gentleman, the courtier now manifests his identity in meaningless ornamentation and unproductive ostentation. Rather than a performance of heroism, masculinity becomes a “spectacle,” both sartorial and sexual (267).
The “spectacle” previously attached solely to women in society and on the stage, the object of desire, now illustrates the fashionable aristocrat as well. The spectator’s gaze turns to focus on this new frivolous identity of the upper class man as an effeminate ideal. In the court of Philip III, and later Philip IV, society aspires to emulate a titillating and idiosyncratic transgender paradigm illustrated in Don Gil. Doña Inés describes this particular charming man of female graces, whom she fondly loves,
…don Gil no es hombre, es la gracia,
la sal, el donaire, el gusto
que amor en sus cielos guarda.
Ya le he visto, ya le quiero (939-942).
Una cara como un oro,
de almíbar unas palabras,
y unas calzas todas verdes,
que cielos son, y no calzas (990-993).[Don Gil is not a man, he is
The grace, the salt, the wit, the joy
That love keeps in its heav’nly vaults,
I’ve seen him, and I love him now.]
[A face as fair as burnished gold,
His words as sweet as honey-dew
And breeches in a shade of green,
Which aren’t just breeches, but a dream.]
Don Gil becomes a masculine spectacle, entirely objectified by his female admirers. Inés proclaims, “ Más quiero el pie de don Gil,/que la mano de un monarca.” [I much prefer Don Gil’s foot,/than the hand of a monarch] (936-937)17. The sexual allure of women’s feet revealed in transvestite roles, is transferred to the effeminate feet of Don Gil through Inés’ impending fetish. According to José María Díez Borque, laws were passed to prohibit actresses from showing their feet on stage but were ignored (44). Feet, conventionally a symbol of female sexuality, shift in Don Gil to represent male sexuality as well. Inés prefers the diminished feminine feet of herpretendiente than the masculine strong grip of a monarch. The dance Juana-Gil performs moving her feet along with those of Inés and Clara at the end of Act I, highlights yet again the loss of masculinity that many moralists such as Father José de Jesus María chastise in 1600,
Y con la zarabanda y otros bailes deshonestos banquetes y comedias, se hacen los hombres muelles, afeminados e inútilies para todas las empresas arduas y dificultosas (Kathleen Regan 288). [And with the zarabanda and other immodest dances, banquets and plays, the men become soft effeminate and useless for all arduous and difficult enterprises.]
Gail Bradbury is one of several critics who has chosen to interpret Inés and Clara’s attraction to the feminine transvestite Juana-Gil as purely a suggestion of lesbian desire (577). There is an oblique reference to lesbianism in any case of female cross-dressing no doubt. Yet, if the play is examined within the compelling socio-historical context, it is undeniable that there is significant evidence to expose Juana-Gil as the portrayal of the seductive new effeminate male paradigm.
In Feminizing the Enemy: Imperial Spain, Transvestite Drama, and the Crisis of Masculinity, Sidney Donnell offers a revealing study of Spain’s feminized self-image in the Early Modern period. He comments on the unconventional signifiers of ‘gender ambiguity’ adopted by the upper echelons of society. In addition to flashy clothing and props, Donnell underlines feminine affectations as a new social characteristic of distinction and spectacle:
The lindos [pretty fops]…became an object of ridicule, enerated by the growing fear about the putative feminization of the nation. Aristocrats were often accused of ambiguity or effeminacy (…) class privilege protected many from severe punishment for their fashion excesses, cross-dressing in public, according to Perry, was still considered crossing the line in legal terms (156).
Feminine clothing and affectations were believed to arouse sodomitic inclinations (Heise 364-365). The Inquisition and the secular courts prosecuted men who outwardly embraced ambiguous behavior, recognizing this activity as heresy (363). In the play, Caramanchel vocalizes the prevalent religious anxiety for homosexual semblance when he interprets his master’s bisexual appearance as demonic: “Aquí dijo mi amo hermafrodita/que me esperaba; y vive Dios, que pienso/ que es algún familiar que, en traje de hombre,/ha venido a sacarme de juicio,/y, en siéndolo, doy cuenta al Santo Oficio” [My young hermaphroditic master said/he’d wait for me right here; but now by God,/I think that he’s a ghost, who in man’s clothes,/has come to drive me out of my poor wits;/and if he is, I’ll tell the Holy Office] (724-728). Zamora Vicente defines familiar as a demon (n.726 140), leaving no doubt to the inference of deviant, sexual abnormality in the transgendered Juana-Gil.
Tirso portrays Juana-Gil as an effeminate man with further unorthodox connotations such as his depiction as a young man or boy. Don Juan, Inés’s betrothed, describes Juana-Gil as “un rapaz” [a young lad] and “un niño” [a boy] (1184-1186). Throughout the play, every character notices his youth and effeminacy in his lack of beard and high-pitched voice. This sketch of a female/boy suggests a paedophilia subtext, a crime that was vehemently prosecuted as sodomy in the early modern period. The reading of homosexuality in Juana-Gil is viable considering as mentioned earlier, the anxiety over young boy actors playing female roles and the fervent persecution of sodomites at the time. According to Heise’s research, the Santo Oficio executed up to 150 people for sodomy during 1575-1640 in Madrid, often burning groups of 10 to 15 men and boys (363). Perry underscores the possibility of a homosexual subculture evident in the inquisitorial cases of the period (126). In revealing a feminine youthful figure in Juana as Gil, Tirso invokes a marginalized social group of men and boys that existed in Spanish society. It is this new dangerous fancy for feminized affected behavior among men that unveils the widespread rupture of gender, sex, and class markers in society.
In most comedies, the evolution of desire conventionally emasculates men and masculinizes women. This transformation of Martín occurs through the development of his superstitions. Early on he convinces himself that the imaginary character he invented has come alive and is challenging him in the pursuit of Inés. By the third Act, Martín is barely surviving his madness. He believes that Juana’s restless soul is haunting him and seeking retribution for her death and abandonment. The strong belief in the supernatural is associated with women and their incapacity for reasoning. The emasculation of Martín is illustrated through his incrementing superstitions as well as through his fancy for disguises.
The pinnacle of the play results in the juncture of both triangles of desire. Juana’s plot to force Martín to live up to his promise of matrimony converges with her seduction and mockery of the women. Her initial imitation of the desired image – the effeminate courtier – causes a series of reactions, leading to the transformation of all the characters. A hyperbolized scene of transvestism transpires. Four don Gil variants appear in the conclusion: Juana-Gil, Clara-Gil, Martín-Gil and Juan-Gil, all driven to disguise themselves as Don Gil de las calzas verdes by their desire to imitate the new coveted male paradigm. Martín voices the reason for the male desire of “self-fashioning”: “…calzas verdes me pongo desde mañana,/si este color apetece” [I shall don/Green breeches from tomorrow on,/If that’s the colour that appeals] (1014-1016). The parodic climax uncovers Tirso’s commentary on society’s obsession over deteriorated mimetic desire.
Martín evolves from a “cocksure, fortune-seeking man”18 into a babbling coward who, in green breeches, desperately surrenders to Juana at the closure of the play. Juana, after succeeding to overpower his self-serving, inconstant identity, “Que he de perseguir, (…)/a mi engañador/con uno y con otro enredo,/ hasta que cure su amor con mi industria o con su miedo” [I’ll hunt my cruel deceiver down/with all the tricks at my command,/ until his lovesick fever’s cured/through his great fear or my shrewd plan] (2351-2355), saves him from insanity and emasculation by accepting his marriage proposal. It is only after the play reaches a hyperbolized performance of identities, that Tirso brings order back to the stage; an obvious return to traditional, orthodox ideals.
The play within a play theme of the capa y espada genre reveals a pervasive self-reflexivity; an awareness of life’s intrinsic theatricality and the theater’s inherent reality. Therefore, converging with the feminization occurring on stage is the emasculation evolving in the audience. The connection between emasculation and theatergoing is frequently addressed by moralists and intellectuals of the early modern period. The Spanish humanist Juan de Mariana believed that theater was a stimulator as well as a product of society’s deterioration (Blue, Spanish Comedies 15). Courtiers were believed to be at risk of being “castrated” by turning away from bellicose pursuits and dedicating all their time to female activities such as the theater. Heise quotes the Catalan jesuit José de Jesus María warning against the effeminizing symptoms of the corral de comedias:
(…) con la ocasión de estas representaciones la gente se da al ocio, al deleite y regalo, y se divierte de la buena disciplina, y del trabajo y ejercicios de guerra; (…) los mismos romanos perdieron gran parte de su vigor y esfuerzo después que conquistaron la Asia, enflaquecidos y afeminados con los regalos y lujurias… (369). [On the occasion of these performances, people give themselves over to idleness, pleasure, and entertainment and distract themselves from good discipline, and from work and warlike exercise; (…) the Romans themselves lost a great part of their vigor and strength after they conquered Asia, weakened and effeminized with entertainments and intemperance.]
The fall of Spain, parallel to that of the great Roman Empire, is blamed on debauchery. In light of this meta-theatrical process of feminization, let us recall the spectators’ role in the interpretation of meaning. Laura Mulvey’s notion of ‘masculinization’ of female spectatorship occurs when a woman identifies with the active hero, and desires to be masculine; to possess the phallus. The female spectator hence, alternates between a connection with the female object as passive and the male subject as active. This shifting of positions is what Laura Mulvey refers to as a type of metaphoric transvestite; the transvestism of the female spectator, who, psychologically adopts ephemeral masculine attire (29-38). Mary Anne Doane, develops this idea into her own description of the woman viewer’s ‘masquerade’, a process that illustrates a continuous fluidity between feminine and masculine subject positions (Femmes 17-43). It is in watching Don Gil that there is a certain “feminization” of the male spectator. The male audience gazes intently at the courtly effeminate trend-setters of contemporary mores represented in the feminine male guise and back, sitting leisurely as emasculated spectators in the theater. The male public desires to emulate the affluent and self-indulgent effeminate man of the upper class. Paun de García reiterates this same point when commenting on the effeminate dandy of the Spanish court: “The exhibitionism and display of the masculine occupies a position of object of desire” (268). This objectification for the feminine male is reflected in the play. Don Juan confesses his envy of Juana-Gil’s attractive feminine qualities that arouses Inés: “Pues que mi lado le doy,/ con él cortesano estoy./ Ya de celos desespero” [Since I must yield my place, I’ll be/ obliged to show him courtesy./Already I feel jealous pangs] (789-791); ”Ay de mí!/¿Mírale doña Inés? Sí,/Qué presto empiezo a envidialle!” [Alas!/Does Doña Inés observe him? Yes./How soon my envy of him grows!] (793-795). The prospect that many men envied the new ideal of masculinity defined by a feminized epicurean lifestyle, far removed from chivalric masculine virtues is highly probable. The male spectator responds to the continuous repression and defeat of the virile male ideal in the play. He experiences an oscillation between the two existing ideals of male subjectivity. Finally, he is inextricably feminized by yearning to shift more palpably towards the unmanly male image, the capón, the phallusless man, the Juana-Gil performing dishonorable feats and speaking the trivial language of gossip, lies, and seduction all of which is signified feminine behavior – the new male paradigm.
At this point in the exploration of the feminization of man, it serves to question how exactly does this phenomenon establish the female as subject in the culture of the seventeenth century? Converging with the feminization of the male is an overwhelming trace of female subjectivity surfacing from the myriad of meanings that are simultaneously being transmitted in Don Gil de las calzas verdes. A patently self-fulfilling prophecy of women’s agency and influence emanates from within the confines of these urban comedies. As mentioned earlier, male anxiety over women representing a real threat to patriarchy, provokes an intensified consciousness of women’s position in society and the vehement need to control them ultimately enhances their identity as a menacing subjects19. Figuratively, the female cross-dresser attains a phallus by assuming male attire and privilege. Her invasion of the masculine public sphere, results in a type of metaphorical “penetration” of the passive male realm. Through the uppity of women and the vulnerability of men the play recognizes the empowering realities of women in the early seventeenth century.
The victory in the battle of the sexes goes to women in this ambivalent society. Men competing with Juana-Gil are shown to be inept rivals unable to equal the dexterity she demonstrates in the impersonation of the modern effeminate male and in the new graces of seduction20. Furthermore, as Puan de García observes, “Women were subordinate but also powerful; they could control men through sex, and men were effeminated by excessive desire” (267). Women now had a weapon, their own bodies, as desired sexual and lucrative objects of exchange. In the play, we not only observe Juana as negotiator of her own body, but also see a transformation of Inés and Clara who manipulate Juan and Antonio their pre-selected future husbands. They use their bodies according to the value given them in the cultural “market” for doncellas or unmarried virgins. Clara declares how much she’s worth and how she manages her value to Juana-Gil: “También tengo casa yo/ como doña Inés;/también hacienda el cielo me dio,/y también quiero yo bien/como ella” [Like Doña Inés I’ve also got/a house; moreover God above/has blessed me too with an estate;/and I am also much in love,/like her] (2366-2370); “…Mis galanes más de mil;/mas quien en mi gusto alcanza/el premio por más gentil…” [Of suitors I enjoy my fill;/but he who stands in my esteem/the highest, as the most genteel] (2391-2393). This female negotiation of sex and matrimony is incisively communicated in the play. In seventeenth century society, offering or suggesting sex to men made women powerful because their virginity was a signifier of lineage and therefore a commodity. After Juana, Inés and Clara become aware of their bodies as an instrument of control they seize its power and negotiate their desires as many other characters do in the capa y espada genre. Sexually active women on stage, as well as in society21, suggests that they assume more control over their inherent power.
Tirso’s social criticism embedded in Juana’s performance deals with the physical identification of gender and class. His cross-dressed heroine does not “allegorize one’s search for sexual identity” as Matthew Stroud contends in his study of Juana (Play in the Mirror 175). What the protagonist accomplishes is the incomparably ironic performance of the construction of gender itself through the portrayal of an oscillating masculine ideal. As shown earlier, it is the alternating image of masculinity, deficient of traditional codes of behavior -an effeminate masculinity – which is recognized as a model and ultimately criticized. This study concurs with Paun de García’s assessment of the seventeenth century courtly notion of masculinity, “Masculinity is changeable, adaptive, reconfigurable; it is constructed rather than inherent. Furthermore, gender must be taken as a plurality, not as the binaries it deceptively presents” (265). Tirso highlights this mutating masculine identity in Juana-Gil’s performance of Martin. Laura Levine, in studying English theater in the Renaissance connects the idea of an oscillating male identity to the reason for the emergence of fear of effeminization (Men in Women’s Clothing 10). This anxiety over male vulnerability and subsequent feminization is fueled by the imminent loss of Spanish imperial power. The castration of political and economic power leads to the feminization of the state as argued by Sidney Donnell. The deteriorated Monarchy, and the feeble aristocracy, in their performance of grandeur and ostentation at a time of severe military and economic impotency, is a cowardly manifestation that reinforces their crass effeminacy. The female transvestite in Don Gil represents the ubiquity of a feminized mass culture in Spain.
Stephen Greenblatt’s notion of “self-fashioning” comes to mind when exploring the meaning of the transformative self in the comedia de capa y espada. He argues that in the early modern period “there appears to be an increasing self-consciousness about the fashioning of human identity as a manipulatable, artful process (Renaissance Self-Fashioning 2). In the theater, a domain of heightened gender performance, the concept of identity as moldable and variable emerges as a reflection of the new Renaissance awareness of the self. Juana the transvestite epitomizes the formation of identity as a self-fashioned degenerated construction. Evident is the slippage of the medieval concept of the self as fixed and stable, inscribed by hegemonic discourses. Through transvestism, Tirso questions multiple sexual, social and political discourses and offers compelling insights into Spanish society. A sophisticated reevaluation of Don Gil de las calzas verdes’s histrionic transvestite uncovers salient topics of significant socio-historical value; namely, the polemics over the effeminization of man and the emergence of woman as subject.
* This article does not follow the overall copyright policy of LL . © Jelena Sánchez 2006. All rights reserved.
1Many playwrights of the time made references to this Babel-like city. See Tirso de Molina in La fingida Arcadia, Gracián in Criticón, Lope de Vega in La dama boba, El mejor alcalde el rey, Milagros de corte son, and Antonio Viñán y Verdugo’s 1620 book entitled, Guía y avisos de forasteros que vienen a la corte (Madrid: Real Academia Española, 1923).
2 N.D. Shergold offers significant evidence to prove that women appear on stage between the 1530’s and the 1580’s. See his A History of the Spanish Stage from Medieval Times until the End of the Seventeenth Century (Oxford: Clarendon, 1967) 505-43.
3 See Ursula Heise’s insightful article entitled, “Transvestism and the Stage controversy in Spain and England, 1580-1680”, Theatre Journal 44.3 (October 1992): 357-374.
4 See M. Romera-Navarro’s “Las disfrazadas de varón”, Hispanic Review 2 (1934): 269.
5 According to Alonso Zamora Vicente, the play articulates an incisive political commentary about the mayorzago system in Spain that I will analyze further on.
6 Zamora Vicente notes that the historical rivalry between these two cities over which would be the chosen capital is played out through Juana’s jealousy of Inés, a single woman of Madrid aristocracy. See his edition of Don gil de las calzas verdes (Madrid: Clásicos Castalia, 1990).
7 See James A. Parr’s article “Tragedia y comedia en el siglo XVII español: Antiguos y Modernos”, El mundo del teatro español en su Siglo de Oro: ensayos dedicados a John E. Varey. Ed. J.M. Ruano de la Haza (Ottawa:Dovehouse, 1989); also of interest is Margaret Wilson’s book Tirso de Molina (Boston:Twayne, 1977).
8 Elliot asserts that “Life at Court might be expensive (…), but the grandees expected to make up for their losses by plundering the royal treasury, just as their ancestors had plundered it when another favorite ruled Spain, in the reign of John II” (314).
9 All citations in Spanish of Don Gil are from the edition prepared by Alonso Zamora Vicente. Citations in English are taken from Gordon Minter’s translation. Both editions follow identical verse numeration.
10 Henry Kamen explains the promulgation of the mayorazgo: “To encourage peaceful succession among the great lineages, and also to preserve their economic assets, Ferdinand at the Cortes of Toro (1505) encouraged the use by nobles of the mayorazgo or entail, which prohibited sales of land and kept inheritances undivided” in Spain 1469-1714 (New York: Longman, 1991) 22; The seventeenth century arbitristas criticized the deficient system of entail claiming that it was partly responsible for the disproportionate distribution of wealth that caused great harm to Spain (234). J.H. Elliot, presents the problem of the mayorazgo as one of the main reasons for bankruptcy claimed in the will of the fifth Duke of Infantado” [The Duke] explains his heavy debts by the failure of his parents to pay him the portion of an elder son, which had obliged him to mortgage his wealth in order to maintain his household” (Imperial Spain 1469-1716, 313).
11 English translations of José Alcalá-Zamora, Alonso Zamora Vicente, Father Jesus María are mine.
12 This is obviously an effort to mock the low measure of presumably noble lineage inherent in the pretendientes of the court. Philip II dictated several royal pragmatics to limit the concession of titles such as “don” and other higher honorific labels ;see Alcalá-Zamora’s La vida cotidiana en la España de Velázquez (Madrid: Edición Temas de Hoy, 1994) 106. Through the issuance of a title, the King received close to 5 % of the yearly salary of an aristocratic family-a total of 4,000 ducats a year. I have estimated this amount based on the average salaries of the highest aristocratic families given by J.H. Elliott in at the beginning of the 1600’s (Imperial Spain. 1469-1716, 313) and the amount Alcala-Zamora gives for the monies received yearly by the crown-50,000 ducats (107).
13 Paun de García studies María de Zayas’s protests concerning the decay of contemporary masculinity. She offers examples of Zayas berating men: “¿Es posible que nos veis ya casi en poder de los contrarios, pues desde donde están adonde estamos no hay más defensa que vuestros heroicos corazones y valerosos brazos, y que no os corréis de estaros en la Corte, ajando galas y criando cabellos, hollando coches y paseando prados, y que en lugar de defendernos, nos quitéis la opinión y el honor, contando cuentos que os suceden con damas, que creo que son más invenciones de malicia que verdades; alabándoos de cosas que es imposible sea verdad que lo puedan hacer, ni aun las públicas rameras, sólo por llevar al cabo vuestra dañada intención, todos efecto de la ociosidad en que gastáis el tiempo en ofensa de dios y de vuestra nobleza? !Qué esto hagan pechos españoles! !Qué esto sufran ánimos castellanos! (María de Zayas. Parte segunda del Sarao y entretenimiento honesto[Desengaños amorosos]. Ed. Alicia Yllera. Madrid: Cátedra, 2002 505-506).
14 Citations in English of Zayas’s Desengaños amorosos are taken from Boyer’s translation.
15 See Vernon Chamberlin and Jack Weiner’s article, “Color Symbolism: A Key to a Possible characterization of Cervantes’ ‘Caballero del Verde Gabán’” Romance Notes 10 (1969) 342-347.
16 See online Wikipedia encyclopedia at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/eunuch
17 This verse is my own translation. Gordon Mintor’s predilection for substituting Spanish verses with his own English interpretations in order to maintain wit and humor in the play, leads to an erasure of the varied meanings Tirso intended. Literal, figurative and implicit meanings of words are often lost in translation.
18 See Margaret Wilson’s commentary in Tirso de Molina (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1977) 50.
19 My assertions about female subjectivity are not meant to challenge in any way Joan-Kelly Gadol’s seminal article on the diminishing power of women in the Renaissance. Gadol’s study deals with Italian women but it is true for Spanish women as well. Kelly notes that the underlying common thread that subjugates women in Renaissance culture is the vigorous hegemonic plan to make stringent delineations of women’s roles in private and public domains. Kelly demonstrated effectively that in the Early Modern Age, “[A] new division between personal and public life made itself felt as the state came to organize Renaissance society, and with that division the modern relation of the sexes made its appearance, even among the Renaissance nobility… Renaissance ideas on love and manners, more classical than Medieval, and almost exclusively a male product, expressed this new subordination of women to the interests of husbands and male-dominated kin groups and served to justify the removal of women from an “unladylike” position of power and erotic independence. All the advances of Renaissance Italy, its protocapitalist economy, its states, and its humanistic culture, worked to mold the noblewoman into an aesthetic object: decorous, chaste, and doubly dependent-on her husband as well as the prince (47).
20 Everett W. Hesse also refers to Juana as the victor of the “battle of the sexes” (57).
21 See the chapter entitled, “La corrupción en las solteras” in La mala vida en la España de Felipe IV by Jose Deleito y Piñuela (Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 2005).
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