Maria Chaste Witch Maria Chaste is a renowned figure in history known for her alleged role as a witch. Born in the late 16th century in a small village, Maria's life was marked by a series of unusual events and circumstances that led to her being labeled as a witch. From a young age, Maria exhibited a keen interest and affinity for nature and herbal remedies. She spent much of her time collecting herbs, studying their properties, and experimenting with their uses. This knowledge and curiosity sparked suspicion and fear among her fellow villagers, who accused her of practicing witchcraft. Rumors of Maria's witchcraft spread like wildfire, and soon she found herself the target of persecution and accusations.
Junketsu no Maria or Maria the Virgin Witch, whichever you prefer, is a great, yet underrated show. It has great and amazing story followed by interesting characters, good soundtrack and great animation and art. It’s only 12 episodes long, and is definitely worth the wait. The ending is also really good, and ends on a good note, without bad taste in mouth.
Their interactions are fun to watch, the different comments are naughty remarks they do to each other are also very fun, and more often than not used in a comedic manner. Even if we don t practice these modern virtues as much as we like to think we do, they have the power to grant moral strength to any public speech, debate, or Facebook post.
Rumors of Maria's witchcraft spread like wildfire, and soon she found herself the target of persecution and accusations. It was believed that she had made a pact with the devil and used her knowledge of herbs to harm others. Authorities launched an investigation, and Maria was tried as a witch.
The language and literature of chastity
In her debut book, Dr Bonnie Lander Johnson (Faculty of English) shows how deeply the Christian virtue of chastity was embedded into the culture of the early Stuart world. In the struggle between the newly established Church of England and Roman Catholicism, chastity was a powerful construct that was both personal and political.
Virginity was an anatomical state; chastity was a state, both spiritual and psychological, that could be observed through all stages of a person’s adult life.
Bonnie Lander Johnson
When BBC Radio 4’s Woman’s Hour used the topic ‘purity’ as a talking point for a late night discussion, the themes that emerged ranged from sex to food to spirituality. The common denominator was the female body and the ways in which women feel, and are judged, as pure and impure. For most of the contributors, purity was perceived as a state experienced on a personal basis – through control and denial – often at great cost to themselves.
In her introduction, the presenter Lauren Laverne equated chastity (“a word you don’t hear bandied about much these days”) with celibacy and she wasn’t challenged by her guests. And why would she be? Chastity has come to mean abstinence from sex and is often used synonymously with virginity. However, for members of the world’s religions chastity has a much wider meaning that is lost in the language of secular Britain. Four centuries ago the opposite was true: chastity was one of the most important virtues, not just for individuals but for the public discourses through which the period’s greatest political controversies played out.
In her book Chastity in Early Stuart Literature and Culture, Dr Bonnie Lander Johnson (Faculty of English) describes how chastity became a cult that was as much embodied by the ceremonies and performances of the court as it was espoused by the anti-court Puritan writers working in the new world of popular print. Lander Johnson writes that chastity, as an important Christian virtue, was “one of the key conceptual frameworks through which individual men and women understood their relationship to their own bodies, to their community, to the wider Christian world and to God”. But “the same virtue that could protect the body from infection and a marriage from dissolution could eventually help to topple a government and undo a King”.
Chastity played a powerful role in both national affairs and international relations. Elizabeth I was famously the Virgin Queen of the Protestant country created by her father Henry VIII. Her unsullied state was much more than simply personal. It offered her subjects a vision of the nation itself as both impenetrable against outside invasion and purified of the ‘popery’ of Catholicism. The Protestantism of the Church of England was chaste and pure; in the vitriol of religious schisms, the Roman church was “the whore of Babylon”.
The Virgin Queen’s Stuart successors were on shakier ground. Charles I married Henrietta Maria of France, a devoutly Catholic princess who had spent her childhood in a convent and was dedicated to her mission of re-Catholicising England. She arrived in her adopted country not only with a fabulous trousseau of worldly goods, but also an entourage of friars and firm ideas about devotion and decorum. Although fiercely loyal to her husband and supportive of his power as monarch, she did not recognise his status as head of the English Church.
For England’s Catholics, living mostly in obscurity and practicing their faith illegally, Henrietta Maria became the unofficial leader of the Catholic Church in England. While the King and Queen lived harmoniously together for over two decades, the religious tensions that had only barely been kept in check since the establishment of the Protestant Church began to erupt around them. At the heart of these tensions was a debate over which of the country’s religious and political factions could lay the greatest claim to the virtue of chastity.
“Importantly, chastity was not the same as virginity,” writes Lander Johnson. “Virginity was an anatomical state that preceded sexual activity; chastity was a state, both spiritual and psychological, that could be observed through all stages of a person’s adult life.” Sanctified by God, marriage and sexual relations between man and wife could be chaste – as could childbirth. By implication, a ‘chaste’ relationship produced a healthy child. By the same token, an ‘unchaste’ union created a monster. When the child in question was born of a royal marriage that was surrounded by accusations of religious ‘unchastity’, the outcome could have far-reaching effects.
The royal household was under intense scrutiny as religious factions tussled for ascendancy. When Charles and Henrietta Maria’s first child died at birth, suspicions about the chastity of their marriage as an inter-religious union grew. The remarkably resilient Queen went on to give birth to a further eight children, seven of whom survived.
This fecundity was celebrated in court masques and portraits. The central message of the court’s various spectacles and ceremonies was that the chastity of the royal marriage, and of the nation, was sanctified and maintained by the Queen’s prodigious fertility. For this reason, Lander Johnson argues, the Queen’s birthing ceremonies need to be considered as important events among the many forms of art, writing, and performance generated in the 1630s.
Each delivery was an elaborate performance, carefully orchestrated to draw down the greatest blessings from God, to ensure the most fortuitous outcome, and to communicate Henrietta Maria’s piety, purity and queenly authority. The Queen’s many births also became platforms for debates over the relative chastity of the Catholic and Protestant Churches. Who was allowed to attend the Queen in these important and dangerous moments? Who would most safely deliver the future head of the nation and Church?
The Queen’s unsuccessful first birth was mourned across the country, and at the English and French courts. It had been attended by Chamberlen, Physician to the King, a figure viewed with suspicion by the Queen, her French cohort and her family at home in France. Chamberlen was not only Protestant but a man (something the French, with their excellent reputation for female scholar-midwives, thought particularly unchaste). But Chamberlen was also a maverick whose secret instruments (eventually revealed to be an early form of forceps) were increasingly thought to do as much damage as good to mothers and babies.
In her grief over her first child, Henrietta Maria took charge of her subsequent births, employing a French midwife and surrounding herself with nuns, Catholic nurses, pictures of the Virgin Mary and all the comforts of Catholic devotion: incense, music and gestural prayer. The second birth was a success, producing an heir both healthy and male: the future Charles II.
The Queen marked each of her births with elaborate court masques that celebrated her chastity, fertility and spirituality. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Queen’s religious convictions and devotional tastes became increasingly popular in and around the court. In response, the pro-Parliamentary plain-religionists who eventually deposed the King worked harder than ever to claim the virtue of chastity for their cause and to accuse the Queen of infecting the King and the Throne with her unchaste religious practices. In a new world of public debate, dissenters made full use of mass print technology to rapidly disseminate their fiery sermons and commonwealth political theory.
Throughout the 1630s the court’s claims to chastity, primarily through the prodigiously fertile body of the Queen and her elaborate masques, were highly successful. But the young John Milton was preparing to enter the debate with his own masque of chastity. Milton’s skilful recoding of the virtue as Protestant spiritual adventure bolstered the moral strength of pro-Parliamentary arguments. Within a decade the King, Queen and their many children were dead or in hiding and the court’s depiction of chastity as familial, fertile, and spectacular was replaced with a version of chastity more at home in the written word, more masculine, and more martial: a steely and inviolate virtue fit for revolution.
Lander Johnson has written her first book in order to look in depth at chastity as a theme running through the life of the royal court, and the circles of power around it, in the first half of the 17th century – as seen through the literature of William Shakespeare, John Milton and a number of lesser known poets and playwrights, including John Ford. It is a scholarly book, aimed at an academic readership, but it touches on universal human preoccupations – how we see ourselves, how we want to be seen, how we curate our own image through private and public performance.
“I was motivated to explore constructions of chastity, and manifestations of the virtue in literature, by a desire to recover a moral code that is rapidly disappearing from current cultural awareness but which was of the greatest importance to our predecessors and a primary consideration in our revolutionary history,” says Lander Johnson.
“I’m interested in the ways a society’s beliefs, in all times and places, can shape those words and images that have the power to sway public opinion so decisively. Today we are interested in tolerance and equality. Even if we don’t practice these modern virtues as much as we like to think we do, they have the power to grant moral strength to any public speech, debate, or Facebook post.”
Chastity in Early Stuart Literature by Bonnie Lander Johnson is published by Cambridge University Press
Story progresses at perfect pace. Nothing seems too rushed, or too slow. It goes to great lengths to showcase the conflict between Witches and Heaven’s, especially the ones that carry the name of the Holy Virgin. It also doesn’t beat around the bush when it comes to the ones who are servants of god, portraying their worries, faith wavering moments, and shows that they are just people, who put against enough rationalism start to question their beliefs. It also touches upon public executions, harassment, and the topic of burning the witches, because they are..well, witches. It’s a really good show that is very underrated, god knows why.
During her trial, Maria vehemently denied the accusations, maintaining her innocence throughout the proceedings. She argued that her interest in herbs was purely for medicinal purposes and that her knowledge was acquired through extensive reading and experimentation. Despite her defense, the court found her guilty and sentenced her to death by hanging. Maria's story serves as a stark reminder of the hysteria and fear that gripped societies during the era of witch trials. Many innocent individuals, particularly women, fell victim to baseless accusations and persecution. Maria's case highlights the dangers of prejudice, superstition, and the willingness to believe in the supernatural without evidence. In recent years, there has been a growing movement to reassess the witch trials and give voice to the victims who suffered unjustly. The story of Maria Chaste serves as an important example of the need to question historical narratives and challenge assumptions based on gender, knowledge, and societal norms. Today, Maria Chaste is remembered as a symbol of resilience and strength in the face of adversity. Her story serves as a cautionary tale, reminding us of the importance of fair trials, evidence-based judgments, and the preservation of individual rights and freedoms..
Reviews for "Decoding Maria, the Chaste Witch"
1. John - 2 stars
I found "Maria Chaste Witch" to be quite disappointing. The plot was slow and predictable, and the characters lacked depth. The main protagonist, Maria, came across as one-dimensional, and I couldn't connect with her struggles or journey. The dialogue felt forced and unrealistic, making it difficult to become immersed in the story. Overall, I wouldn't recommend this book as it failed to captivate me or offer anything unique or compelling.
2. Emily - 1 star
I really struggled to get through "Maria Chaste Witch". The writing style was convoluted and confusing, making it hard to follow the storyline. Additionally, the pacing was extremely slow, with little action or excitement. The magical elements were underdeveloped and poorly explained, leaving me with more questions than answers. I felt no emotional connection to the characters and found their motivations and decisions to be nonsensical at times. It's a shame because the concept had potential, but the execution fell flat.
3. Sarah - 2 stars
"Maria Chaste Witch" was a letdown for me. The world-building was weak, and I couldn't fully grasp the magical system or rules. The narrative jumped between different timelines and points of view, creating a disjointed reading experience. The romance aspect felt forced and lacking chemistry. The ending was also anticlimactic and left unresolved plot threads. Overall, I found the book to be confusing and lacking in execution, making it difficult to fully engage with the story or characters.