Vittoria Colonna and the Virgin Mary

Modern Language Review, The, Jan, 2001 by Abigail Brundin

A close reading of the account swiftly reveals a highly original take on Mary's traditional role as intermediary. The author is at pains to stress Mary's absolute bond with her son, and the fact that they are equally fundamental to the process of divine redemption: 'tanti legami di carne, tanti vincoli di spirito, tanti lumi d'intelligenza, tanti fuochi di amore, vi fanno una medesima cosa, che non si puo imaginare, ne riguardare, ne servir Christo senza Maria' ('Oratione', p. 14). In fact, Mary has a controlling role in the relationship because she is able to give her son to his followers, to be 'liberale' in her sharing of him with others. Those who worship must not therefore simply ask Mary to intercede on their behalf, but ask her to be generous in bestowing the grace of her son upon them: 'benche io sia indegna, pure ardisco dimandarlo a te ('Oratione', p. 14). The tables are oddly turned: we pray to Mary, not only because she is full of pity for us, but because she actually controls the intervention of Christ in our lives. Such an emphasis could perhaps be seen to relate to what John O'Malley describes as 'incarnational theology', the tendency, which he noted in sermons delivered at the papal court in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, to identify the Redemption with the Incarnation rather than the Crucifixion, that is to hold that the Redemption of all mankind was already accomplished at the moment of Christ's conception in Mary's womb. (23) Such a theology is clearly attractive for anyone seeking to explore the power and potential of Mary's role, as it posits her body as the locus of the salvation of mankind and affords her a great share in the responsibility for the event.

Clearly fearing that she is being overly presumptuous in requesting access to Christ, Colonna in her 'Oratione' tempers her demand to the Virgin by explaining that she only requires him in his weakest moments, when he is wounded, humbled, mocked, laid low and then slain by the ignorance and cruelty of man. One moment in his presence, as he lies cold and dead, will serve to assuage all the author's years of suffering: 'Dammelo cosi morto, me tornera viva subito: le sue sante piaghe saneranno le mie in un momento' ('Oratione', p. 15). And after she has found such healing, she promises to relinquish Christ to his rightful keeper: 'e poi stara teco in eterno' ('Oratione', p. 15). This language of exchange featuring Christ as a piece of personal property to be 'lent', as he was lent by Mary to others during his lifetime, 'il concedesti a Madalena, a Marta' ('Oratione', p. 14), seems at odds with the context of religious praise and thanksgiving. It serves to move the relationship between the Virgin and the author onto a very personal level, and an unequivocally human one, so that Mary's feelings towards Christ are understood as possessive, proud and proprietorial. Yet she is also generous, and will undoubtedly listen to these prayers with a sympathetic ear, controlling as she does our access to grace: 'a te sta a darmi gratia di honorarlo, amore da contemplarlo, ricchezza per goderlo' ('Oratione', p. 16). By giving birth to Christ, the Virgin has essentially become herself the co-author of mankind's redemption, an unambiguously powerful role.