Edinburgh City Council’s adoption of a new “feminist approach” to city planning seems to be a project that will have a positive impact on the wider cityscape. Plans are aimed at improving accessibility, such as building more ramps, widening of pavements and increasing the number of benches.
Part of the Council’s proposal is to erect more statues of named women, specifically women of colour, LGBTQ+ women and working class women. Widening representation is certainly of great importance in Edinburgh since currently there are more statues of animals than those of named women in the city centre.
Yet a sad reality is that statues of women often become connected with objectifying superstitions. For unfathomable reasons, rubbing the breasts of bronze figures of women has been widely believed to bring luck to their beholders. I am therefore wary of what the response will be to the statues planned in Edinburgh.
I first noticed this trend when I visited Verona, the notable home of my namesake, just a few years ago. I was looking forward to following the Shakespearean trail of the city and as I approached the cobbled streets towards the first place on my bucket list, the Casa di Giulietta, the crowds of tourists engulfed me. This was hardly surprising as I had made the journey on a scorching August day.
When I arrived at the renowned statue of the tragic heroine, I found her surrounded by mobs of visitors. I could barely approach the figure. Each photo I took involved strenuous reaching to keep strangers out of my frame. Still, as one faceless silhouette replaced the next, I couldn’t help but notice their repetitive pattern: pose, smile, grope, and leave after the momentary flash of light. Most of them barely glanced at the figure of Juliet they had undoubtedly travelled so far to visit. Overwhelmed by the crowds, I left, planning to return early the next day.
Casa di Giulietta, the courtyard palace which is said to have inspired Romeo and Juliet features a museum that recounts the story of its female protagonist. For a mere €3, visitors can walk through the trail of the Capulet family in their various film adaptations over the years. A highlight was getting to step onto Juliet’s balcony and look out onto the courtyard in which her statue stood, which unfortunately, yet again was engulfed by the slow trickle of eager tourists. What is particularly disturbing is that the character of Juliet Capulet is only 13 years old.
During this tour, I made the disappointing discovery that the statue found in the courtyard of Casa di Giulietta is not the original by Nereo Costantini from 1969. That original lay in a glass case within the walls of the museum to protect it from tourists that had damaged it through their incessant touching. The replica found in the courtyard substituted the original in 2014. In less than a decade after its replacement, her features are already experiencing significant discoloration along the groped areas.
While concerning behaviour occurs with statues in general, it seems particularly concentrated on those of women. Statues of women aim to immortalise their subject’s achievements, but with the development of absurd superstitions, these women seem to then only be objectified for generations to come.
The plan for new statues of women in Edinburgh is an opportunity to put an end to the way women have been systematically reduced to their bodies – we must give these women and their statues the honour and respect that they deserve.
Image via Julia Twardzisz.