By Alanna Prince, Ph.D. Candidate in English

My latest efforts on The WWP’s Intertextual Networks project have made evident just how meticulous women writers were in their citation. Authors like Lady Damaris Masham and Joanna Southcott quoted and engaged with Scripture and other texts frequently in their works, showing not just that they were readers and consumers of texts, but also that they were able to produce critiques that were eloquent, sharp, and pointed. Further, through citation, these women were able to align themselves and/or debate with popular, often male-authored, works that broached the same topics, themes, and events (and in doing so, they set precedents for women’s authorship). For many of these women, citation can be understood as a feminist tool that elevated and centered women’s work in the literary landscape.

More contemporaneously, many 20th- and 21st-century feminist scholars (across a variety of disciplines) have paid particular attention to the politics of citation. These scholars often ask—who is citing who? Who is not being cited? What citations are unilateral? While these questions are essential for contemporary scholars considering contemporary works, I caution applying these same inquiries to early women’s texts—not only because they were writing at a time when women authors were not being published at the rate they are today (and therefore could not be cited as such) but also because they perhaps they do not get at the crux of the issues women writers of the era were facing. Instead, I urge readers curious about the politics of citation of WWP authors to consider the rhetorical implications of these women’s citation practices. 

Contemporary scholars looking to explore the citational practices of the authors in Women Writers Online may want to adjust the lines of thinking, and pose different types of questions to get at the center of the writer’s early feminist politics. As a substitution for “who is citing who?” in these works, we might ask, “what are the gendered dynamics of this citation?” Other questions that may be relevant: “how does this author make space for feminist interpretations and debates with the source?” or “how does this writer assert authority through citation?” In asking these sorts of questions, contemporary scholars and learners may be able to understand these early texts in ways that better reflect the lived realities of their authors. 

For example, Lady Damaris Masham, a theologian, writer, and early supporter of women’s causes relating to education, is a grand example of what close reading and close citation can do for uplifting women’s opinions in the public sphere. Masham’s work A Discourse Concerning a Love of God (1696) is a direct interrogation of the work of John Norris, a popular seventeenth-century theologian and philosopher. Masham finds fault in Norris’ work (particularly 1691’s Practical Discourse which is cited thoroughly throughout nearly all 125 pages of Masham’s text) and directly pushes back on Norris’ ideas. Her unrelenting citation and breakdown of Norris’ perception of God and faith, her rebuttal and her forceful presentation of her own views shows a particular sort of feminist confidence—she does not mince her words. Here, contemporary scholars may inquire about the fastidiousness of her citational politics—what was her aim? What does her unrelenting fierceness say about her own perceptions of her gender/power? These types of questions may help expose Masham’s feminist intentions.

In addition to asking questions about her citations, contemporary scholars may also want to think about how Masham structured her citations. She frequently used ‘viz.’ to gloss both her own writing and Norris’s, reframing lengthy quotations as a pedagogical tool. While this rhetorical device is a fairly common practice of the era, it can also be understood as a ‘calling in’ to readers so that they have the tools to engage at the same level as she does in her text. Masham does not just show that she can do the work, she makes it possible for other readers, including many other women, to understand the work as well. I argue that this is the sort of equity of knowledge work that many feminist scholars of this moment dedicate themselves to in their practice. This argument is bolstered by Masham’s dedication to women’s education. I understand this sort of citation-adjacent practice of her own beliefs and advocacy in advancing women’s education. 

Nearly a century later, English prophetess Joanna Southcott was writing and preaching extensively on what she saw to come in the world. While some prophets are more known for revelations deriving not necessarily through study, but through intuition and clairvoyance, Southcott used references and citations to various theological texts and Scripture to support and explain her predictions. In Southcott’s 1792 text The Strange Effects of Faith her citations thread together a quilt of religious texts that support her visions. Like Masham’s close reading and citation of Norris, Southcott performs her diligent reading through citation, connecting various biblical references to her visions—making them ‘iron-clad’ in a sense. Southcott’s citational practice allowed her readers to rest assured in her predictions; they were elevated beyond simple conjecture, showing Southcott to be a well-versed authority figure on the various subjects of her visions. 

For those studying the citational practices of Southcott today, they might consider what it meant for a woman writer to not to just read and repeat Scripture, but to also take ownership in biblical study. Religious texts were among the most widely cited and circulated readings of the time (see “Thirty Years, Thirty Ideas: Religion” by Jamie Goodrich and Paula McQuade for more), and so Southcott is participating in a well-established textual practice. In many ways, citation of The Bible was critical, and even necessary, for many writers.  In considering Southcott’s citations, contemporary scholars may ask “what makes Southcott’s citation of Scripture distinct from her peers?” or “how does Southcott use the citation rhetorically?” Asking questions like this may reveal how Southcott moves beyond perfunctory citation of Scripture in her work, and how she uses scriptural citations to access power.

Southcott and Masham are just two early women writers who were scrupulous in their research and citation. There are hundreds of women writers that are a part of the Intertextual Network interface the WWP has published to show the various ways women writers cited texts of their time. As noted, these women writers were often meticulous and methodical in how they brought in and cited works to build their own arguments and critiques. As contemporary scholars reviewing their work and building our own, it is our duty to return this level of meticulousness in how we cite, arrange, and call from them—they laid the very groundwork for the sort of feminist scholarship we do today. Not just because we pull from their works, but because they were influential in how to do the work itself. Central to the project of the WWP is to highlight and make known the works of women writers and one of the most effective ways of doing so is through our citation.

The texts discussed in this post will be published soon in Women Writers Online. See our list of forthcoming texts for more.

Intertextual Networks has been made possible in part by a major grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities: Exploring the human endeavor. Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this project, do not necessarily represent those of the National Endowment for the Humanities.