freedom in prison
In folk memory, convents were once seen as places of isolation for single mothers or women fleeing abusive situations. Yet as secular attitudes hardened into the modern era, a new, more nuanced view of forgotten women emerged. In the 21st century, movements like MeToo helped recast monastic life in historical terms, turning nuns from symbols of retreat into subjects of curiosity and respect. Contemporary works, including the podcast Philip’s Daughters, chart a counter-reformation narrative with two young women scholars from Brown University offering a lively, insightful look. They ask what feminism can still learn from religious women of the 16th and 17th centuries, highlighting shifts in social relations, caregiving, and communal rituals that resonate today. This reframe positions early convent life as a site where power, culture, and personal choices intersect, rather than merely a backdrop for female withdrawal.
The monastery, once a punitive space for some, is now seen through a different lens. The modern gaze reveals an atmosphere in which women could cultivate influence, pursue writing, music, or research, and craft a distinct intellectual space within cloistered walls. Argentinian writer Mariana Cabezón Cámara, whose recent novel is inspired by Catalina de Erauso, a nun who dressed as a man to lead in battles during the conquest of the Americas, notes that entering a convent could be a deliberate choice to escape the “birthing machine” of marriage and devote oneself to personal aims. This perspective frames religious life not as oppression, but as a pathway chosen for autonomy and self-definition.
Latin America also offers a potent symbol in Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz. A 17th-century nun who transformed her cell into a philosophical library, she challenged church dictates and sparked intellectual debate. Works like Against the Ignorance of Women compile letters that question gendered limits and defend women’s right to study. Her poetry, including critiques of male arrogance and the defense of female learning, places her among early feminist voices long before the term existed. Contemporary readers revisit Sor Juana through a lens that recognizes layered identities, including LGTBI perspectives, as scholars such as Mariana Cabezón Cámara have noted in discussions about her enduring influence and the complexity of her audience. These contours remind readers that early religious women were often at the cutting edge of ideas about knowledge, power, and gender relations.
Teresa of the Roads
p>In Spain, Teresa de Jesús remains a towering figure whose life and works continue to spark debate. A forthcoming film adaptation of Juan Mayorga’s play Teresa will premiere as part of the ongoing conversation about her legacy. Teresa is celebrated as a scholar and saint who endured inquisitorial scrutiny for her intellect and independence. When her birth bicentennial drew near in 2015, a surge of novels—some radical in tone—reframed her story. One notable text, Cristina Morales’s Bad Words, later published as Últimas tardes con Teresa, imagines an intimate diary in which Teresa critiques a patriarchal order that sought obedience from religious women. The idea that convents were porous spaces appears in many narratives, suggesting that communication—via letters or visits—could bridge walls and challenge authority. Teresa’s travels and steadfast resolve test the boundaries set for women, even within cloistered life.
Turning back to Latin America, Peruvian author Santiago Roncagliolo’s recent novel, The Year the Devil Was Born, revisits Rosa de Lima, the patron saint of the region, through a lens that dramatizes the tension between sanctity and human desire. The portrayal raises questions about the ways devotion intersects with sexuality and social expectation. Contemporary cinema, including Paul Verhoeven’s Benedetta, recalls a historical fascination with female sexuality within religious contexts, a provocation that prompts readers and viewers to reexamine how religious institutions have fictionalized or sensationalized female experiences. The discussion is complemented by a podcast that probes how priestesses have faced instrumentalization in the face of belief and possession narratives.
Most requested book
p>Scholars Ana Urbita and Carmen Garriga are preparing a book titled Monastic Wisdom, slated for release in early 2025 under the Blackie Books imprint. The project has generated substantial anticipation at the Frankfurt Book Fair and attracted offers from numerous publishers worldwide. Their research defies clichés: not all nuns entered convents to prove a vocation, and some sought quiet, independent lives beyond expected roles. Their inquiry into figures such as the saints known as Cañitas reveals cases where women pursued freedom outside marriage and childbirth, crafting a life of autonomy within or beyond religious structures. Their work promises to illuminate how convents could be communities of resilience, intellect, and personal agency, rather than mere institutions of withdrawal.
Ultimately, the conversation acknowledges a spectrum of experiences. Some nuns embraced cloistered life as a chosen path, while others sought a different rhythm, seeking safety, dignity, and self-direction away from the constraints of marriage and social obligation. The exploration continues as researchers piece together testimonies and historical fragments to understand how women navigated religious life, family expectations, and personal aspirations in diverse times and places.