Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Trauma in Voice: Silence in Sexual Violence

Hey All!
I've been wanting to publish this for some time now. I wrote this for an Ethnomusicology class at Bowling Green State University in the spring semester of 2012. It is a heavy topic. I am missing my musical examples (which I have lost over my few moves), but everything else is sited at the end of the article.
Trauma in Voice--Alana E. Henkel--2012
        Rape is a trauma only quickly and quietly discussed in public.  Research has shown that traumatic sexual events do silence victims and has been applied to cognitive therapy by psychologists such as Marie Croll, Una McCluskey, Carol-Ann Hooper, Claudia Moscovici, Irina Anderson, and Kathy Doherty.  This theme of silence resides in popular culture works such as the novels Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett, and television shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and True Blood.  Throughout history, rape has been stigmatized to be the fault and even the desire of women, a discourse, which has carried through to today.  It was not until the late 1990s that British and American law systems created legislation protecting women from marital rape.  While some women are silent, others are vocal about their trauma. 
            Why do some women allow themselves to be silenced and others break cultural bonds and become vocal about their trauma?  I will be discussing two pieces, The Rape of Lucretia (1946) by Benjamin Britten and Philomel (1964) by Milton Babbitt, both based on tales of women of rape, and how the women and their surroundings are portrayed according psychological and radical feminist theories on sexual abuse.  Lucretia silences herself by committing suicide, while Philomel is silenced by her assaulter cutting out her tongue, who finally sings of her tragedies after she is transformed into a nightingale.  Both these women self-identified with chastity, which was stolen by men, resulting in emotional silence. In this paper, I will show how each composer used musical depictions of the madwoman to portray psychological reactions to emotional loss of identity adjacent to vocal silence from rape.
            The psychological ramifications of rape are often dictated by how other people, political, and religious systems view and treat rape victims.  Keep in mind the stories of Lucretia and Philomel while I discuss sexual assault discourse.  Lucretia was the chaste wife of Collatinus, a soldier in the Roman army.  The Etruscan Prince of Rome, Tarquinius became jealous of Collatinus’s wife’s chastity, so attempted to seduce her, but failed.  In return, he raped her.  Lucretia, who identified with her chastity became hysterical with grief and killed herself after telling about the rape to her husband.[1]  Philomel was a young virgin who was raped in the woods of Thrace by her brother-in-law, King Tereus.  She threatened to tell her sister, so Tereus cut out her tongue in the process of raping her.  After the incident, she wove a tapestry of her story and sent it to her sister.  In response towards Tereus, Philomel and her sister killed and fed to Tereus his son.  Tereus consequently chased the sisters, but before he could catch them, all three were turned into birds, with Philomel as a nightingale.[2]  Britten and Babbitt use societal rape discourse to musically depict the anger, sadness, and also the silence from these sexual assaults.
            While scholars in the humanities discuss sexual assault in relation to their fields, I will be using psychological studies on sexual assault to examine cultural and personal reactions to rape to help understand the context in which each story takes place.  The psychological discourse of sexual assault considers personal narratives of both victims and assailants and how each individual was mentally, emotionally and physically affected by the event.  In Relating Rape and Murder: Narratives of Sex, Death and Gender, Jane Monckton Smith addressed sexual assaults through the lenses of early, radical, and third-wave feminism and how these discussions were affected by historic American legislature towards women.[3]  Rape psychology is heavily influenced by radical feminism, which has campaigned that all rapes are equal, whereas third wave feminists classify rapes according to relationships, allowing for societal rationalization.[4] 
            Western society, historically and even today, is rape-tolerant.  There are several categories that psychologists have identified as ways people view victims of sexual assault.  The “just-world-theory” blames the victim because these observers believe the world is good, and if horrible circumstances happened to people for no reason, the world would be chaotic.[5]  Other observers of sexual assault assign degrees to the crime by victim characteristics.  Is the woman or man married, divorced, or a virgin?  What is his or her line of work or number of sexual partners?[6]  This is similar to third-wave feminism thought, which classifies rapes according to relationship (date-rape is not as bad as stranger-rape).[7]  Some people are less likely to blame the victim of a rape if he or she is emotionally close to the victim (defense-attribution hypothesis).[8]  Finally, for many years, and even today, there is a belief among men that women have a secret desire to be raped.[9]
            Research shows that Western society historically blames victims of sexual assault.  For many years, women were considered their husband’s property.  Women were allowed to be treated as their husbands saw fit.  Men could murder their wives, but if a wife murdered her husband in the United Kingdom, it was a punishable offence.[10]  The UK also created Contagious Diseases Acts, which allowed police to remove and inspect women who were suspected of sexual diseases from brothels.  Men were not suspected of sexual disease because it was believed that men were biologically allowed to have promiscuous intercourse due to their bodily urges.  Women were subject to religious discourse, which stated that women should keep themselves pure through virginity, so women who were sexually active were considered a threat to moral society.[11]  As a general conclusion, men have been allowed sexual freedom from scientific reasoning, while women are restrained by religious moralities.
            Regarding the tale of the rape of Lucretia, St. Augustine believed Lucretia committed suicide from her guilt of being unfaithful to her husband, thereby proving that she brought the rape upon herself.[12]  These attitudes towards women caused radical feminist Susan Brownmiller to publish Against our Will (1975), which reconstructed rape as political violence towards women and proposed that rapists are normal men that identify with patriarchal and misogynistic culture who can target any woman.[13]
            How society views rape affects how rape victims view themselves.  There are numerous articles and books on the concept of physical vocal silence in victims of assault.  Peggy Penn of the Ackerman Institute of Family Therapy states,
            ‘Voice’ [is] a useful metaphor for describing a social constructionist therapy that
            emphasizes language and voice.  We have all worked with clients who cannot speak of
            traumatic events, whose voices were indeed ‘lost’, not because of resistance or
            withholding, but because the particular voice that needed to speak of the traumatic event   could not be found or accepted.[14]

In sexual abuse therapy, the psychologist analyzes the dimensions of the victim’s past that she chooses to reveal, what importance is weighed on each episode of the trauma, and how the victim constructs, organizes, withholds information, and tells the entire account in the end.[15]  Women who are raped experience an “inner silence”, which creates an inability to experience affect in life such as to work satisfactorily, form relationships, or even maintain a human’s own life.[16]  When Lucretia tells her story to Collatinus, it is revealed through the lens of her previous identity, giving her no hope.  Philomela reveals her story in short words and phrases and any question she has is responded to by her subconscious.  What these women chose to reveal was determined by their personalities in relation to the time of the tragedy.
            In Surviving the Silence, Charlotte Pierce-Baker quotes a sexual abuse victim who stated, “People always tell me that you forget the bad things, you forget pain…But no, you remember the pain.”[17]  Both Benjamin Britten’s opera The Rape of Lucretia and Milton Babbitt’s Philomel musically tell the story of women who were raped, from the woman’s point of view, but portrayed through music written by a man.  Both victims experience excruciating pain from their respective rapes and both were vocally silenced by the abuse.  Lucretia terminates her life shortly after the incident and Philomel had her tongue cut out by her assailant.  Britten’s opera includes Christian choruses, Lucretia’s husband, Lucretia’s rapist, and Lucretia’s maids who all comment on the events surrounding her.  In Babbitt’s Philomel, Philomel is portrayed as her nightingale persona and sings her reaction to the rape.  These works reveal societal discourse towards women in the nineteenth century through the musical descriptions of rape, which lead to both silence and madness.
            Britten’s opera The Rape of Lucretia was and still is controversial.  The controversy is not about the rape itself, but rather, the role of the male and female choruses, originally sung by Peter Pears and Joan Cross.[18]  The texts for these roles symbolize the idea of eternity in Christian thought.[19]  Steve Cohen of the Broad Street Review criticizes this role of the Choruses because the tale takes place five centuries before Christ.[20]  Christian beliefs create inconclusive thoughts about Lucretia’s rape and suicide, which causes the opera to lack a solid conclusion.  While the Choruses sing “We’ll view these human passions and these years; Through eyes which once have wept with Christ’s own tears,” they not only mourn the rape as sin, but they mourn Lucretia’s suicide as sin.[21]  In 1949, Joseph Kerman reviewed The Rape of Lucretia and was most critical of the conclusion.  He felt that the choruses concluded the opera effectively because it had a strong moral finish, but it was not appropriate to “any recognizable form of Christianity than to a Sea Interlude from Peter Grimes.[22]
            Britten portrayed the rape and suicide as a complete destruction of Lucretia’s identity.  Lucretia was proverbial for chastity and she recognized and clung to this identity.  There is no confusion in any accounts of the tale.  Chaucer praised her in his Legend of Good Women as “the verray wyf, the verray trewe Lucresse.”[23]  In the original tale, Ovid describes her as tender, feminine, emotional, unacquainted with the world, devoted, and pacifistic (an identity of Britten).[24]  Britten creates contrasting scenes between men and women to emphasize differences in identity.  The men sing in a recitative style while insulting each other and their wives, but when the audience first is introduced to the women of the tale, Lucretia and her maids spin yarn while singing in a stepwise and melodic style.  The harmonies are sonorous and beautiful.  This setup not only reinforces Lucretia’s chastity, but it also reinforces discourse that women should remain pure through virginity, but men are biologically constructed to have sexual urges.[25]
            Tarquinius is a complicated character because he is an Etruscan prince of Rome.  The Etruscans had sacked Rome, and therefore, the Romans hated them.  Tarquinius knew that he was not respected.  Already in the first recitation, the Male Chorus sings, “While their son, Tarquinius Sextus of whom you shall hear, leads Roman youth to Etruscan war and treats the proud city as if it were his whore.”[26]  When he realized that Collatinus was respected because his wife was faithful, Tarquinius wanted to strip Collatinus of that respect.  To Tarquinius, Lucretia was property of Collatinus, and out of political instability and spite, he raped her, using violent sex as an instrument of oppression.[27]  Feminists discuss sexual violence in terms of power and social order.  Clare Hemmings states that sexuality can be represented as fully controlled or violently enforced, specifically that “sexuality as an object of inquiry can thus only be pleasure or violence, freedom or constraint, and never both (or neither).”[28]  Tarquinius’s identity was threatened by the pure identity of a woman. 
            Britten constantly writes musical connections between Tarquinius’s need for power and sexual violence throughout the opera.  In act one after Tarquinius rode to Rome to take advantage of Lucretia, he ran to the stable to find a horse.  According to the Male Chorus, Tarquinius forced the iron bit into a horses’s teeth with a violent, sixteenth-note backdrop.[29]  On this ride, he pushed the horse so hard that blood poured from its hocks.[30]  When Tarquinius left Lucretia’s house after the rape, he had to take another horse because he had abused the original.  The sixteenth note fear theme returns when the Prince entered Lucretia’s home.[31]  Finally, when the Choruses described the Etruscans’ sack of Rome, they use rape imagery:
            The prosperity of the Etruscans was due to the richness of their native soil, the
            virility of their men, and the fertility of their women.  When the Etruscan Princes
            conquered Rome, they founded the Imperial City building it in stone.  And the Etruscan
            builders watched the proud Romans sweat as they toiled in the mountain quarry.  Then     the victors embellished their palaces with delicate silver and tapestries, which they taught       the Roman nobility to weave in the shadows of an Etruscan cellar.  Through all their art    there runs this paradox: Passion for creation and lust to kill.  Behind the swan’s neck
            they’d paint a fox, and on their tombs a wooden phallus stood.[32]
            Blood reoccurs as a theme of violence and sacrifice.  The conclusion of the opera as sung by the Choruses use confusing mixed metaphors between the cleansing of blood and the destruction and cleansing of death.  From the Christian viewpoint, they reference Jesus’ blood being spilled for the forgiveness of sins (the forgiveness of her suicide).[33]  They sing of blood washing Lucretia’s shame away.[34]  This shame has two parts: the first being Christ’s forgiveness for her sins and the second being Lucretia’s own blood represents her own memory forgetting the shame of her rape in her death.  However, in her death, there is silence.
            Why did she physically and vocally silence herself?  Ovid described Lucretia’s appearance the morning after as having disheveled hair, mourning clothes, suffering, and nervous shock.  Literary expert A.G. Lee feels that Ovid tells of her rape in her final speech as if he was Lucretia.[35]  In her final recitative, she states that Tarquinius had ravished her, which “tore the fabric of our love.  What [Lucretia and Collatinus] had woven, Tarquinius has broken.  What I have spoken never can be forgotten…For me this shame, for you this sorrow.”[36]  All of this is sung in recitative form on a B directly below the treble clef (Appendix 1). This directly contrasts musical activity during the rape, which is sixteenth notes and the melodic feminine spinning melodies.  There is neither violence nor happiness in her voice, only shock.  Collatinus responds in melodic fashion saying, “If spirit’s not given there is no need of shame.  Lust is all taking, in that there’s shame.  What Tarquinius has taken can be forgotten.  What Lucretia has given can be forgiven.”[37]  He sees the rape of Lucretia as her sin.  Psychologist Nicola Gavey states “Rape is an act of aggression in which the victim is denied her self-determination.  It is an act of violence.”[38]  Lucretia was perceived as wanting the rape, hence why Collatinus stated that he forgave her, because it would be the desire of violent sex to make her victimization her sin.  Victims often experience a reaction to the event, known Rape Trauma Syndrome, where victims have acute stress reactions to life-threatening situations.  This may lead to suicide.  Researchers conducted interviews in 1973 with female suicide attempters and found that it was a traumatic reaction to the psychological trauma of rape.[39]  Lucretia’s chastity was stolen from her, affecting the way she and her husband viewed her identity.  Her safety, trust, power, esteem, and intimacy were disrupted.[40]  These build identity, creating a situation for suicide.
            In response to her husband’s admittance to seeing her sexual assault as her sin, Lucretia’s recitative transforms into an elaborate and hysterical melody.  Susan McClary speaks of the phenomenon of the madwoman’s song in operas such as Lucia di Lammermoor (who is also both the victim and heroine, which is a martyr).[41]  Female sexuality was thought to be legitimately linked to mental breakdowns in the nineteenth century due to Freud’s research in psychiatry.[42]  This overflowed into musical discourse.  Therefore, Lucretia became mad because her sexuality was violated, throwing her into a musical frenzy, which includes chromaticism.[43]  She climaxes on a high G, where she stabs herself on the word “Now”.  She descends from the top of the treble clef to E an octave below the treble clef mostly in intervals of a minor third, in patterns of notes that increasingly have more rests between the groupings (Appendix 2).  The text to this phenomenon is “Now I’ll be forever chaste, with only death to ravish me. See, how my wanton blood washes my shame away!”[44]  The rests between her utterances until her death continue in the orchestra the moment she dies.  The low strings play two thirty-second notes at a pianissimo level as anacruses to a downbeat.  There is significant amount of rest between the notes in each measure, showing the finality of silence in her death.
            Lucretia does not have the sexual excess of classic madwomen like Carmen who is infamous for seducing men, but the sexual excess of a man causes Lucretia to become a madwoman. The way secular and Christian society perceived sex and women, both in ancient Roman times and the twentieth-century, led Lucretia to hopelessness in her new identity.  Interestingly, in the libretto as Lucretia’s contemplating suicide, she invocates another famous tale of rape and silence: Philomel (“Poor bird…”).[45]  Philomel is a tale of Greek Mythology, originally told by Ovid in his Metamorphosis. However, Philomel’s silence differs from Lucretia’s silence because Philomel’s rapist stole her voice by cutting out her tongue.
            Milton Babbitt wrote Philomel for Bethany Beardslee in 1964.  It combines techniques of speaking, singing, and Sprechstimme, all with a pre-recorded tape of Bethany Beardslee’s distorted voice.[46]  The librettist, John Hollander, was inspired by the original text, “Quando fiam uti chelidon ut tacere desinam?” meaning, “When shall I like the swallow, quit this silence?”[47]  Philomel finally is allowed to quit the silence after she becomes a nightingale, but how much will her past reactions to the rape affect her music?  She did try to tell her story through the tapestry and responded in anger by killing her nephew.  In the past, she was able to reveal her sentiment of the event, but now, her voice in this final therapeutic account is revealing her deep emotional response to the rape.[48]
            This text is Philomel’s tragedy.  Hollander, a Yale poet, respects and embraces her tragedy.  He drew on classical styles of poetic writing to convey the story of the “ruined bird”.  He opens the monologue in a recitative manner using “I feel” to show her fear, outrage, and pain.  He wrote the echo effect (tape) in a similar manner to seventeenth and eighteenth century satirical poetic verse.  He claims that this specific echo is “horrific in kind of a baroque way, but not coyly humorous.”[49]
            In contrast, Milton Babbitt is known for not displaying emotions.  According to Kyle Gann, “[John Cage] was part of a generation—one could mention Milton Babbitt and Conlon Nancarrow, close contemporaries of Cage, as others—for whom music was simply a pattern of sounds, incapable of expressing or eliciting emotion except by some willing self-delusion on the part of the listener.”[50]  In an interview with Jason Gross in April 2000, Babbitt only discussed writing the piece for the Ford Foundation, Bethany Beardslee, the tape recording process, and his beloved synthesizer.  He never discussed the text other than recognizing the librettist.[51]  Susan McClary is able to experience Babbitt’s music in terms of suffering and survival, although she acknowledges that Babbitt was reluctant to discuss anything other than the concrete compositional techniques of the piece.[52]  Even though he does not use emotion, he uses expression.  In his music, he writes vivid characterizations of people and places.[53]  Like McClary, I will not dismiss Philomel as an accident of emotion, but will consider it as artwork of the subconscious male mind.
            Philomel is scored for taped voice, live voice, and a pre-recorded RCA synthesizer.  It is written in a twelve-tone row, which when analyzed in matrix form, creates musical tapestry, which is supposed to symbolize the tapestry woven by Philomel after her tragedy.[54]  The twelve-tone row is stated by the taped voice, emerging out of the initially stated E, and constantly returning to the E.[55] Andrew Mead describes this phenomenon as Philomel emerging her voice out of the E in search for her true identity (Appendix 3).[56]  It is significant that this occurs on the tape, because it is the echo--an aspect of her disembodied self.  There are four recorded voices (from the same voice) on the tape.  This would be an example chronic arousal and hyperactivity in relation to the crime committed to her.[57]  In reaction to her rape, Philomel helped kill and cook her own nephew.  Her vengeance is a symptom of her posttraumatic stress syndrome and hearing her own disembodied voice in bird-state would reflect the multiple levels of emotions running inside her mind.  She answers her own questions:
            Philomel: Is it Tereus I feel?
            Tape: Not Tereus: not a true Tereus---
Subconsciously, Philomel knows the answers, but is at a state in her own mourning that she needs to vocalize her questions and emotions to come to terms with them.    
            In this song, Philomel faces long-term emotions that Lucretia never had to face.  Philomel did ask Tereus to kill her; “Yet, villain, to compleat your horrid guilt, stab here, and let my tainted blood be spilt!”  Instead of killing her, Tereus cut out her tongue; “For now the blade has cut her tongue sheer off, close to the trembling root. The mangled part still quiver’d on the ground, murmuring with a faint imperfect sound; and, as a serpent writhes his wounded train, uneasy, panting, and possess’d with pain…”[58] This pain was literal from a violent rape and cropped tongue, but it was also psychological, according to psychologist Charlotte Pierce Baker.[59]
            Philomel’s voice first emerges through emotional words in the text.  In section one, Hollander plays on the homophones of tear.  She first sings of “a million tears” (wet substance out of eyes), and a few lines later, “Fear the tearing (rip)…trees tear (rip)…families of tears (water).”  In this set of three tears, the live voice sings alone without interaction from the prerecorded tape.  The synthesizer, which before was rhythmically active, now sits on slower rhythms, holding two or three notes for over a measure so “tear” can be properly heard.  This text does move the plot from Philomel’s memories along, similar to a recitative in opera.  By allowing the monologue to stand-alone and shine through the sparse accompaniment, Babbitt is letting Philomel’s pain be heard, helping her to heal.
            Babbitt composed this piece in twelve-tone-row because he believed that music should be mathematical.[60]  He clearly chose to write in twelve-tone-row for a versatile soprano with perfect pitch.[61]  By doing this, I believe he participated much more actively in the tradition of the madwoman aria than Benjamin Britten during Lucretia’s death.  Susan McClary states that Schoenberg avoided distress in his atonal music by being orderly in his writing, which could easily be transferred to the orderliness of Babbitt’s row system.  McClary describes how dissonant analysis can help tame the madwoman.[62]  To have dissonance, one needs resolution, which is not transparent in twelve-tone music.  However, the music does give the illusion of being dissonant.  Phrases such as “with mellowing felonious fame,” end in dissolution of the synthesizer chord and rhythmic deceleration in Sprechstimme and give the illusion of resolution.  The last note of the piece is D, which is the last note of the tone row originally introduced by the synthesizer, giving resolution to the scale in prime form.  This note is dissonant with the synthesizer tone clusters, but when they release, feels like a resolution.  Babbitt controls the illusion of dissonance and consonance through pitch density.
            How is Philomel a madwoman?  She is angry, afraid, and paranoid.  This anger emerges from her ordeal with silence. In section one, she sings (I have numbered the lines for purposes of discussion):
            1. By trees here where no birds have trilled—
            2. Feeling killed
            3. Philomel stilled
            4. Her honey unfulfilled.
            5. What is that sound?
            6. A voice found?
            7. Broken, the bound
            8. Of silence, beyond
            9. Violence of human sound.
            10. As if a new self
            11. Could be founded on sound.
            12. The trees are astounded![63]

She suffered rape (a loss of virginity) and a loss of speech  (a loss of self according to psychologist Nicola Gavey), causing her to feel killed.[64]  In lines 1-4, she is facing the emotional murder of her psyche, which now is reemerging in her newfound bird voice.  Musically, the word “trilled” becomes frenzied, and Philomel’s voice develops wider intervals.  It moves from a perfect 5th (By trees here where no birds have trilled), to a diminished octave (feeling), to a major 9th (killed Phil…), to a minor 13th (mel stilled), to a major 9th (ey un..), to a drop of a major 9th (fulfilled).  Between these leaps are smaller intervals, but this is the point of the piece where intervals become drastically and consistently wider (Appendix 4).  This is a vocal obstacle, which women who escape from their abusers often face.[65]
            Philomel continues to sing of the “violence of human sound” (Appendix 5). Lines 5-12 are marked by faster and more complex rhythms in both the voice and synthesizer.  On the words “of silence”, the dynamics are specific: of (piano), si- (mezzo forte), lence (forte).  Silence grows louder, and ends when the synthesizer plays a frenzy of nine sixteenth notes over two beats, concluding with the word “violence” (fortissimo) in the soprano.  This specific gesture musically demonstrates the meaning of her forced silence, resulting in anger.  One could argue that this arrangement of notes is a demonstration of noise, as opposed to the resolution on  “sound” (line 11), which resolves on a d minor triad, which is held for a full beat and half. 
            The noise in “Of silence beyond violence” could be considered part of Jacque Attali’s theory of noise as “an immaterial weapon of death.”[66]   This violence is an aspect of sublime art according to an artistic postulate from the Enlightenment.[67]  Philomel by Milton Babbitt is indeed sublime.  It is considered one of Babbitt’s most popular works and is a member of Norton’s Anthology of Western Music History.  The soprano has leaps and rhythms that show the madness of Philomel’s tragedy, and brings out her anger through dissonance and dynamics, creating a vocal weapon that manifested from both her murder of Tereus’s son and Tereus’s murder of her own self determination.  The anger, hatred, and sadness substantiate the beauty in this psychological musical drama, creating a sublime work.
            Lucretia and Philomel are two women with two different stories of sexual assault.  Britten and Babbitt chose to include elements of madness to tell each story.  Lucretia was a woman who doted on her husband, so when she lost her identity of chastity, was overcome with sorrow for herself and her relationship.  Her “mad” scene rose chromatically out of a monotonous recitative, climaxing on her highest pitch as she silenced her voice forever.  After Philomel’s attack, she became angry, violent, and unable to speak.  When her voice was given back, Babbitt portrayed her as paranoid, portraying her “madness” through her subconscious and twelve-tone-row produced intervals.  Both women experienced excruciating pain, but chose different ways to respond; Lucretia chose to leave the world and Philomel chose voice and revenge.
            These extreme emotions and reactions fill countless true stories of sexual assault.  Feminists throughout the years have campaigned for sexual equality and voice for women throughout the Western world, while psychologists have used these new levels of awareness to help cultivate a more effective healing process for rape victims.  Lucretia and Philomel never experienced therapeutic counseling, but they were provided voices in Britten and Babbitt’s sublime musical works to protest the wickedness that stole each woman’s sexual identity.

[1] Benjamin Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, op. 37, Libretto by Ronald Duncan, (London: Boosey and Hawkes, 1946).
[2] Milton Babbitt, Philomel: Monodrama for soprano, recorded soprano, and synthesized sound (1964). In Norton Anthology of Western Music, vol. 2: Classic to Twentieth Century, Fifth edition, (New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company, 2006).
[3] For the purposes of this discussion, I am using the definitions given by Jane Monckton Smith.  “The Second Wave discourse, which is largely identifiable with a radical feminist philosophy, positions sexual violence as a significant method of oppression and equates all female subjugation with patriarchal practice….the Third Wave is less identifiable as a cohesive unified discourse and represents perhaps, the beliefs and approaches of women who have grown up in a world with a significant feminist agenda, questioning some of the more radical approaches…The First Wave feminists focused on women’s lack of rights exemplified in their legal status once married as ‘feme covert’, or hidden woman…”   Jane Monckton Smith, Relating Rape and Murder: Narratives of Sex, Death and Gender, (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010), 40-41.
[4] Smith, Relating Rape and Murder, 50.
[5] Irina Anderson and Kathy Doherty, Accounting for Rape: Psychology, Feminism and Discourse Analysis in the Study of Sexual Violence, (London and New York: Routledge, 2008), 34.
[6] Anderson and Doherty, Accounting for Rape, 31.
[7] Smith, Relating Rape and Murder, 50.
[8] Anderson and Doherty, Accounting for Rape, 35.
[9] Nicola Gavey, Just Sex? The Cultural Scaffolding of Rape, (New York and London: Routledge, 2005), 30-37.
Anderson and Doherty, Accounting for Rape, 53.
[10] Smith, Relating Rape and Murder, 42.
[11] Smith, Relating Rape and Murder, 43.
[12] A.G. Lee. “Ovid’s ‘Lucretia’”, Greece & Rome 22(66) (1953): 109.
[13] Smith, Relating Rape and Murder, 46.
[14] Marie C. Croll, Following Sexual Abuse: A Sociological Interpretation of Identity Re/Formation in Reflexive Therapy, (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2008), 115.
[15] Croll, Following Sexual Abuse, 123.
[16] Susan Vas Dias, “Inner Silence: One of the Impacts of Emotional Abuse Upon the Developing Self.” In Psychodynamic Perspectives on Abuse: The Cost of Fear, Edited by Una McCluskey and Carol-Ann Hooper, (Philadelphia: Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2000), 160.
[17] Pierce-Baker, Surviving the Silence, 96.
[18] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia.
[19] W.H. Haddon Squire. The Aesthetic Hypothesis and “The Rape of Lucretia,” Tempo 1 (1946), 2.
[20] Steve Cohen, “A good thing in a small package,” Broad Street Review, (July 2004).
[21] Benjamin Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 118.
Philip Brett, et al, “Britten, Benjamin.” In Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online.
[22] Joseph Kerman, “Grimes and Lucretia,” The Hudson Review 2(2) (1949), 283.
[23] Lee, “Ovid’s ‘Lucretia’,” 107.
[24] Lee, “Ovid’s ‘Lucretia’,” 111-112
[25] Smith, Relating Rape and Murder, 43.
[26] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 4-5.
[27] Gavey, Just Sex?, 28.
[28] Clare Hemmings.  Why Stories Matter: The Political Grammar of Feminist Theory, (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2011), 122.
[29] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 53.
[30] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 94.
[31] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 95-97.
[32] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 106-109.
[33]Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 224.
[34] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 201.
[35] Lee, “Ovid’s ‘Lucretia’,” 116-117.
[36] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 198-199.
[37] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 199.
[38] Gavey, Just Sex?, 30.
[39] Gavey, Just Sex?, 29-30.
[40] Patricia A. Resick and Monica K. Schnicke, Cognitive Processing Therapy for Rape Victims: A Treatment Manual, (Newbury Park, CA: SAGE, 1993), 13.
[41] Susan McClary, Feminine Endings: Music, Gender, and Sexuality, (Minnesota: University of Minnesota Press, 1991), 98-99.
[42] McClary, Feminine Endings, 84.
[43] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 200.
[44] Britten, The Rape of Lucretia, 200-201.
[45] Eric Walter White, Benjamin Britten: His Lie and Operas, (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1983), 142.
[46] Barkin and Brody,  “Babbitt, Milton.”
[47] John Hollander, “Notes on the Text of Philomel,” Perspectives of New Music 6(1) (1967), 135.
[48] Croll, Following Sexual Abuse, 123.
[49] Hollander, “Notes on the Text of Philomel,” 136.
[50] Arnold Whittall, “Uneasy Evaluatives: Perspectives on Babbitt,” The Musical Times, 145(1887), (2004), 76.
[51] Perfect Sound Forever Online Music Magazine, “OHM-The Early Gurus of Electronic Music: Milton Babbitt talks about “Philomel”, By Jason Gross. April 2000.
[52] Alastair Williams, “Torn Halves: Structure and Subjectivity in Analysis,” Music Analysis 17(3), (1998), 289.
[53] Whittall. “Uneasy Evaluatives,” 77.
[54] Emily Adamowicz, “Subjectivity and Structure in Milton Babbitt’s Philomel,MTO: A Journal of the Society for Music Theory, 17(2), (2011).
[55] Babbitt, Philomel, 1280, 1263.
[56] Adamowicz, “Subjectivity and Structure.”
[57] Resick and Schnicke. Cognitive Processing Therapy for Rape Victims, 13.
[58] Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book IV.
[59] Pierce-Baker, Surviving the Silence, 96.
[60] Barkin and Brody, “Babbitt, Milton.”
[61] Perfect Sound Forever Online Music Magazine, “OHM- The Early Gurus of Electronic Muisc,” 2000.
[62] McClary, Feminine Endings, 108-12.
[63] Babbitt, Philomel, 1274-1277.
[64] Gavey. Just Sex?, 30. “Rape is an act of aggression in which the victim is denied her self-determination.  It is an act of violence.”
[65] Dee L.R. Graham and Edna Rawlings, “Observers’ Blaming of Battered Wives: Who, What, When and Why?”, In The Psychology of Sexual Victimization: A Handbook, ed. Michele Antoinette Paludi, (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1999), 57.
[66] Sally MacArthur, Toward a Twenty-First-Century Feminist Politics of Music, (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing Company, 2010) 52.
[67] MacArthur, Toward a Twenty-First-Century Feminist Politics of Music, 53.