Bingo, it is!!
which is why Montaigne is such a brilliant writer who people should still read today (and not just the dirty parts).
But see what happened?
Don’t judge a book by it’s cover
Book:sexual organs :: cover of book: cover of sexual organs.
It’s not precisely a metaphor; it’s some other beastly variant of a metaphor with a long Greek name like synecdoche, which I think rhymes with the city in New York State. Meaning, there is a common ground for making the allusion: a literal cover to a literal cover associates books and sexual organs.
The thing is that in the sixteenth-century, people really didn’t mind it if you spoke about sex, just so long as your references to it were in the figurative sense, effectively covered by some literal meaning, like a rosebud, which alludes to the delectable part of female anatomy that the poem is in fact about. In the same sense, it was ok to talk about sex just so long as you spoke in Latin, not French. The foreign language covered the indiscretion.
So it was totally okay to talk about homosexuality and homoerotic scenarios, just so long as the covering was in place. In the case of Virgil’s poetry, Montaigne respects this social norm: all the homofriendly passages are in Latin.
But they are there.
Montaigne’s question is whether or not you can separate the ‘covering’ from what is underneath. You never know what accident is going to make Marie’s little Johnny come peeking out through the social fabric, disrupting everyone into wondering whether or not they knew it was there all the time or whether the question of Marie’s identity as a female is entirely relative to social context.
And this is precisely the point that Erislover is trying to raise, (or one of them).
Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.
And “don’t buy a cat in a bag.”
Another proverb that means just about the same thing. Check the merchandise before you buy or you might be cheated. An excellent capitalist piece of wisdom.
Only, in French, a female ‘cat’ is understood to be a reference to a particularly delectable part of female anatomy.
Reverse all the genders, and you get Marie/Jean.
“Don’t buy a particularly delectable part of male anatomy in a bag”.
Nothing to do with ‘checking the merchandise’, literally, but about nominalism, realism and essentialism and about the slippery nature of language: how on earth do you know when the figurative usage is going to reverse to the literal, in common usage, and vice versa, when ‘gay’ will jump the fence, as Marie did one fine day, meaning predominantly a homosexual and secondarily a happy person? And the person best positioned to see the slippage occur is the figuratively ‘lame’, the one who starts out as of step with conventional mores, tripping over what convention states is ‘rational’ and perceiving its irrationality: the homosexual trips over the usage of the word ‘gay’, and he lets the cat out of the bag.
And now I really am cribbing from Antoine Compagnon’s little book of the title, ‘Cat in the bag’.
Except that his point is that all these associations of language in figurative and literal allusions is completely arbitrary social convention, and it all changes, all the time. And he is right, except for a point: Marie turns into Jean, but now it is is Marie who is covered. Marie has not gone away. Marie and Jean are still connected by association. Even though that association is conventionally determined and shifting, once it is there it is there, hidden in the warp and woof of the society.
Just to say that the connection that Erislover raised between the words lame and gay as having in common a disregard for common rules of conduct–deviance from social norms–is quite a smart one.
And one that, in the French culture, was in my hypothesis almost certainly articulated in the Renaissance by Montaigne.
(And come to think about it, I think that I made the connection of Marie/Jean to lameness because I more or less assumed that a leap over a fence of such vigor as to make his/her packet fall out would have caused a sprained ankle, in the very least).
To more directly address the op, I think that what I am saying is that the language shifts…and then it doesn’t shift. Even if ‘gay’ comes to mean predominantly ‘a homosexual’, and no one ever thinks about it meaning ‘stupid’ or ‘lame,’ the fact is that the history of the word is there, somewhere, hidden, and it can be actualized. On the other hand, words really do shift meanings, completely flipping sides, depending on how a society conventionally defines them, and the conventional definition is the valid one.
So what does Marie do when s/he turns into Jean? What does the stunned village do? Do they address the hidden Marie, or do they address the visible Jean? Do they treat Jean as a female, because this is the conventional way to treat this person in their small society, or do they break with convention and treat Jean as a male?
It’s not even clear where the line between realism and convention lies.