Offensive to pious ears: Obscenity and censorship in eighteenth-century Spanish and New Spain poetry by Elena Deanda-Camacho (review)

Reviewed by: Offensive to pious ears: Obscenity and censorship in eighteenth-century Spanish and New Spain poetry by Elena Deanda-Camacho Irene Gomez-Castellano Elena Deanda-Camacho, Ofensiva a los oídos piadosos: Obscenidad y censura en la poesía española y novohispana del siglo XVIII [ Offensive to pious ears: Obscenity and censorship in eighteenth-century Spanish and New Spain poetry] ( Madrid: Iberoamericana; Frankfurt: Vervuert, 2022). Pp. 272. €46.00 cloth. This book provides a fresh approach to the topic of obscenity and the Inquisition in the Spanish-speaking eighteenth century. Comparing texts that were deemed "offensive to pious ears" in New Spain (colonial Mexico) and Spain, Elena Deanda-Camacho puts together a culturally relevant cluster of texts that have been extensively studied by dieciochistas but not paired in this way. In this rich context of interpretations, the originality of Deanda's approach lies in the comparative/transatlantic perspective and the archival work related to inquisitorial practices across the Atlantic that she deftly employs for her reading. As Deanda states, her book is written from the vantage point of Transatlantic Studies, since "Spain, in the eighteenth century, was not only the [Iberian] Peninsula but a whole Empire" (15, my translation here and elsewhere). Deanda's writing style is elegant and sassy at the same time, entertaining, not afraid of polemic, and very contemporary, so the book is a pleasure to read even if one does not agree with some of her propositions regarding classical texts, such as the brutal medieval Carajicomedia or Meléndez Valdés's delicate Besos de amor. Deanda reviews foundational inquisitional texts and the changing ideas surrounding the role of the inquisitor. Exploring reactions to canonical texts like Fernando de Rojas's Celestina or King Solomon's Song of Songs, Deanda offers an eye-opening discussion of the modus operandi of inquisitorial censors. Especially interesting is the review of the different indexes of forbidden books and the process by which books ended up there. Deanda situates in the Index of Sandoval the first connection of the notion of the sacred, love, and obscenity, and notes how texts such as Ovid's Ars Amatoria were allowed in Latin "due to their elegance" (53) since that was the language of the inquisitorial reader. The same text was censored in Spanish. This introduces the fundamental question of class and race as factors [End Page 139] that are attached to the notion of obscenity in early modern Spain and the colonial territory of New Spain. Deanda argues that "lascivious propositions" were the most prosecuted from then on. Chapter 1 is an utterly brilliant introduction to the notion of obscenity and another enlightening discussion of the notion of censorship. Following Deleuze's The Fold, Deanda states that "obscenity and censorship exist in a relationship of fold, they are the two faces of the same coin … I argue that obscenity and censorship, even when they appear to be opposites, are inherently defined by their relationship to the other term" (28). Deanda traces the alliance established between the monarchy and the Inquisition and describes the professionalization of the "calificadores inquisitoriales" (31). Creating a case study that illuminates these processes, Deanda chooses to analyze the Estragos de la lujuria by Antonio Arbiol, a guide for newlyweds that "synthesizes the expression and repression of the sexuality of the Spanish people in the premodern era" (55). Deanda demonstrates how in Arbiol's text the female body and its sartorial accessories were the incarnation of "lujuria" (56). Women were considered repulsive and offensive and surrounded by sensorial elements that provoked disgust in the reader. Deanda connects this discussion involving gender to broader issues such as the polemic surrounding theater, but she also returns to the texture of the inquisitor's text to claim that "[w]hen analyzing the Estragos de la lujuria, the fear of Arbiol appears like the undergarment of his desire … He conjures with morose delight the fragrant cleavage, the luciferin foot, the daring dance, only to expel them from himself, to make them go away and protect himself from their power" (64). In chapter 2, Deanda approaches the anonymous Carajicomedia (1519) from three vantage points: the pornotopia, the prostibularian census, and the genital...