The Letters Of Abelard And Heloise

Religious houses, whether they be convents, monasteries, or hermitages, feature prominently as a motif. They vary, some serving as places of comfort and refuge and others serving as dangerous places filled with malicious intent. This motif speaks to a central theme within the work: ecclesiastical politics.

The primary place of refuge in the work is the oratory established by Abelard himself, the Paraclete, meaning the comforter. Abelard details the spiritual nourishment and safe haven that the oratory provided him after the burning of his book and his contentious time at and escape from the abbey of St. Denis. He says that the place provided him and others with an opportunity to live simply as hermits and, thanks to his loyal followers, freed him up to work on his studies in peace. The Paraclete takes on an extra dimension when Abelard gives it to Heloise and her nuns, because he is able to provide refuge for this endangered community and reaffirm his bond with Heloise. The abbey of Cluny later becomes a place of refuge, as this is where Peter the Venerable accepts Abelard as a monk and shelters him until his death.

Aside from the Abbey of St Denis, where Abelard seems to find nothing but trouble, conflict, and controversy, the remote abbey of St Gildas is portrayed as an especially dangerous place. It is here that Abelard encounters wayward monks who respond to his reforms with threats of bodily harm, and it is here that Abelard laments taking the post of abbot and assuming power, which placed him directly in harm’s way. Unlike the Paraclete and Cluny, St. Gildas is portrayed as a house of malice. All three, however, in some way, represent the ecclesiastical politics of the time.

Castration and eunuchs may be perceived as both symbols and motifs. They are directly representative of Abelard’s literal castration but also impart one central theme of the work: Abelard’s journey from a layman to a devoted monk and his struggles with lust.

Initially, Abelard sees himself as a monstrosity after his castration. He feels deep shame and disgust at his state, noting that it was his castration that “brought [him] to seek shelter in a monastery cloister” (18). It would seem that he continued to feel like an abomination for some time. However, at some point, his perception of his state clearly changed.

In his letters to Heloise, he writes of the castration both as fitting punishment and as an act of divine mercy. It would seem that he came to see his castration as a gift from God, rescuing him from reveling in the sin of lust. Moreover, this allowed him to experience a genuine conversion and devote himself wholly to his studies. He even introduces historical examples of famous and praiseworthy eunuchs into his narrative, especially those who facilitated conversions to Christianity. He praises the monk Origen, who was a devoted doctor and castrated himself in order to instruct women without suspicion. By all accounts, it would seem that Abelard genuinely came to see his castration as a sort of blessing and that it, and eunuchs, came to symbolize his genuine conversion and reprieve from sin.

It was commonly believed in medieval Europe that men were the stronger sex and that women were the weaker sex. This understanding of gender arose out of custom, works passed down from classical antiquity, and Christian doctrine. The idea of women as the weaker sex is taken for granted throughout Abelard and Heloise’s correspondence, showing how steeped they were in this aspect of medieval culture.

This gender inequality is particularly important when considering Heloise’s insistence that Abelard provide her community with a suitable Rule for monastic life. She argues that because women are the weaker sex, the Rule designed for men is not suitable for them. She genuinely sees this as inhibiting convent life and preventing nuns from devoting themselves to God. Again, her argument rests on the fundamental difference between men and women and the fact that women are the weaker sex. She finds nothing incompatible between this and her position of power and authority as a learned abbess; she simply takes it for granted as fact.

We must also take this motif into account when considering Abelard’s thoughts on women, and holy women in particular. When writing to Heloise, Abelard is full of praise for holy women but also pious women from Christian history who tended to Christ and brought about conversions and resurrections. We get the sense that Abelard certainly revered pious women, and holy women especially. Nevertheless, he regularly reproduces the idea that women are the weaker sex, and this actually informs his praise. He notes that female piety is all the more pleasing to God because they are the weaker sex and, in essence, have to work so much harder. Much like Heloise, he sees nothing incompatible between his reverence for women and his belief that they are the weaker sex.

Food and wine are of great concern to Heloise as an abbess. To her, they are symbolic of piety, and she asks Abelard to clarify whether they detract from or add to devotion. In her request for a Rule, Heloise seems to agonize over whether food is actually of importance to piety and whether it commends us to God, or whether it simply leads us to focus on worldly things to our detriment. She gravitates to the latter, suggesting that God cares about the devotion of our hearts rather than what we eat. In some ways, Abelard seems to agree with her, stating that the issue is never food but the appetite behind it. He argues for moderation and continence, writing that “no food defiles the soul, only the appetite for forbidden food” (184).

Both are concerned and write at length about wine, constantly equating it with sensuality. Heloise inquires as to whether it should be drunk, given that Scripture warns that it is harmful, stirs up disturbances within, and encourages sensuality. However, she notes that St. Benedict allowed it to his monks as a concession. What should be done? Abelard agrees that wine is deeply hazardous and promotes sensuality. He writes that because wine prevents both continence and silence, women should abstain from it entirely, or they should cut it with enough water to prevent intoxication. In this way, wine will benefit their health without endangering their souls.