Is Lucian a Reliable Narrator?

Bissa notes the scarcity of classical material on f/f relationshps and thus the importance of placing the material that does exist in context. The article primarily concerns Lucian’s 5th Dialogues of the Courtesans, with some comparative material from Martial’ Philainis poems. The author asks several questions: Is the depiction of the characters (specifically Megilla and Demonassa) meant to be a familiar stereotype or a caricature? Is the depiction meant as a fantastic, unreal image? What does the dialogue reveal about the intended audience’s beliefs and understandings about erotic relations between women?

Is Megilla—as described in the initial conversation between the two courtesans—“mannish” in an abstract sense, thus accounting for her sexual tastes? Bissa reads the reference to Megilla as possibly being a hetairistria as defining that role as indicating masculinity (rather than simple same-sex desire), but then picks that idea apart, arguing that the description “desires…like a man” shouldn’t necessarily be read as indicating masculinity, but rather categorizing active sexual behavior as “like a man.”

In terms of appearance, Megilla is given no masculine characteristics until she removes her wig to show her shaven head “like the manliest athlete,” suggesting that her masculinity (to the extent that it exists) belongs to the private realm, not to a public stereotype. This is reinforced by Megilla’s description of her internal thoughts and emotions as masculine, but again a private, internal experience.

Further, in terms of sexual activity, both women (Megilla and Demonassa) are described as taking an active role, with Demonassa being perhaps even the more assertive. In this context, Bissa notes that Megilla initially describes herself to the courtesan as a “neaniskos”—a word meaning “young man” but associated with the younger partner in a m/m relationship, the eromenos. This adds a potential layer of complexity to the nature of the Megilla-Demonassa relationship (as depicted): that Megilla’s masculinity is that of a youth, to Demonassa’s feminine-erastes. Megilla also describes herself as like a man but in response to the courtesan’s interrogating her about her gender.

Discussions of sexual preference in astrology literature of Lucian’s day do suggest that there was a stereotype of the masculine woman who desired women, but this was not the only available image, as demonstrated by the presentations of Martial’s Bassa, as well as by Demonassa. Whereas Martial’s Philainis is also described in exaggeratedly masculine terms, but in terms of public performance, in contrast to Megilla’s private masculinity. In sum, Bissa concludes that there isn’t evidence for a consistent and established stereotype of the “homosexual woman” (Bissa’s words) in antiquity.

Demonassa also fails to adhere to a proposed stereotype of “the feminine partner of a masculine woman”. She is not sexually passive, taking an active role with the courtesan (possibly even more active than Megilla’s role). Although Megilla describes Demonassa as her wife, she doesn’t have the characteristics of a stereotypical wife. She is rich. She—like Megilla—hails from a city with a reputation for sexual adventurousness. And she is said to have the “same tastes” as Megilla. She and Megilla have hired the courtesan as a couple. None of this comports with the typically-invisible role of the female partner of a tribade. [Note: Bissa, like many others, seems to treat tribas as inherently implying female masculinity. Or maybe is critiquing that stance. I’m not sure.]

The next question to be examined is whether the character of Megilla represents an entirely fantastic image that never existed—as described by Halperin (in a quoted passage) a “fantasied image of gender inversion, that phobic male construction of a hyper-masculine woman” which Halperin says doesn’t correspond to any known sexual orientation. In response to this, Bissa asks whether Lucian does conflate f/f desire with gender-reversal, and whether the image of Megilla represents a negative male fantasy.

To answer this, Bissa takes the text-internal evidence as indicating the readership’s assumed beliefs and attitudes. The courtesans (as stand-ins for the audience) are surprised and confused by Megilla’s masculinity, but not by the idea of being hired to entertain women sexually. This appears to be counter-evidence for the idea that f/f sex was normally assumed to involve a mannish woman. While there is a persistent motif throughout history of “the masculine woman who desires women” that might be considered a stereotype, it is one based on reality. Just not the only reality. To the extent that Megilla falls within this stereotype, Demonassa clearly does not.

[Note: Bissa seems to take Lucian’s description of hetairistriai as implying this stereotype of female masculinity. But given the vanishingly small number of citations of the word, and that Plato’s use does not imply masculinity, I have my doubts.]

Scholarly analysis of what the dialogue tells us about female same-sex desire in the ancient world focuses largely on Megilla, and thus on the gender-crossing aspects, once the character of Demonassa is given equal weight, this emphasis is weakened and made more complex. There are clues in the dialogue to a variety of takes on f/f sexuality. The courtesan’s questions cover both nature and individual choice as possible explanations for Megilla’s tastes.

Historically, analyses of the dialogue have suffered from the prejudices of the scholars. The courtesan’s blushing as she tells of the encounter has been pointed to as a sign of sexual shame, but in other circumstances in Lucian, blushing has a wide variety of contexts. Further, the courtesan has agency: she is given gifts in exchange for her participation—just as she would from a male client—and the implication is that she went into the event expecting that it would involve sex. Overall, the impression is given that while the gender-bending was unexpected and perhaps even shocking, the same-sex encounter itself was not.