A rich merchant with a beautiful wife loves entertaining guests, one of whom is a young monk who grew up in the same village as the merchant. During a visit, the monk comes across the wife in the garden while the husband is in the countinghouse. Swearing him to secrecy, the wife tells how miserable she is, lacking the things women want in their husbands (health, wisdom, riches, generosity, affection, and sex). She then asks the monk to lend her 100 francs that she can't get from her stingy husband. He agrees on the condition that she promise to sleep with him while the husband's away. Before the merchant leaves, the monk asks for a 100-franc loan, which the merchant gladly gives. The monk passes the money to the wife, who goes to bed with him. Later, the merchant visits the monk, who says he's repaid the money to the wife. Returning home, the merchant scolds the wife for not telling him about the returned loan; the wife replies she didn't know it was a loan and spent the money on clothes. The merchant decides he has no choice but to forgive the wife.
The tale, a fabliau like the Miller's and Reeve's tales, may have originally been intended for a female pilgrim. There's certainly a connection between the wife's words on husbands and the Wife of Bath's question about what women want. But the crass language and heavy dose of sexual punning fits the character of the shady Shipman; so does the assumption that it's okay for the monk to violate his vow of celibacy and take advantage of the merchant's friendship.
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: THE PRIORESS' TALE
The Prioress opens with a hymn to the Virgin Mary, praising her virtues, to introduce a tale in which Mary plays a part.
The tale takes place in a large city with a Jewish quarter. A little boy who loves the Virgin Mary has to walk through the Jewish ghetto to school, where he learns to sing Alma redemptoris, a Latin hymn praising Mary. The Jews conspire to have him killed, and his body, with throat cut, is found in an outhouse the next day by his frantic mother. A miracle occurs: the boy, slit throat and all, starts to sing the hymn he's memorized. When questioned by the abbot, the dead boy says the Virgin Mary put a grain on his tongue, and he won't die until it is removed. The abbot takes it off and the child gives up the ghost. The Jews are dragged by horses, then killed. The Prioress ends with a reference to St. Hugh of Lincoln, allegedly murdered by Jews a century earlier.
It's argued that the Prioress' gentle description in the Prologue is sarcastic in light of this anti-Semitic tale; others say Chaucer is merely repeating an attitude toward Jews that was common in the medieval Church. Perhaps he intends irony in the fact that the Prioress laments over the boy and not the Jews, and that her violent tale is written in the form of a popular pious story praising the Virgin Mary (appropriate for a nun like the Prioress, who sees herself, like many nuns, under Mary's protection).
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: TALE OF SIR TOPAS
The Host asks Chaucer, the narrator, for a tale, describing him in the process as chubby, short (like an elf) and always looking down. (We don't know if this is how Chaucer really looked!) Chaucer promises the only tale he says he knows in rhyme.
Sir Topas is a good-looking knight, talented, whom ladies sigh for (but he stays chaste). One night he dreams of an elf queen and vows to ride to the ends of the earth to find her. He meets a giant whom he promises to fight the next day.... Here the tale is interrupted by the Host, who can't stand these horrible rhymes any more. So instead, Chaucer offers a "little" story in prose, which threatens to be as boring as Sir Topas!
The irony is that Chaucer would assign himself such a weak tale, filled with "knight-meets-fair-maiden" cliches that were old even then. It's written in a popular, bouncy rhythm, but even those of us unfamiliar with the style can see the tale is a spoof on romances. Even the stock description of Sir Topas (topaz symbolized chastity, by the way) is a joke.
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: THE TALE OF MELIBEUS
Chaucer wades through a sermon about whether it's better to avenge violence with more violence, or agree to peaceful settlement. The argument is between Sir Melibeus (pro-violence) and his wife Dame Prudence (anti-violence) who are deciding what action to take against three thieves who brutally wound their daughter. Peaceful methods prevail, but the "tale" is more moralistic wrangling than plot.
The tale is translated almost word for word from a French tale that in turn comes from Latin. The point is the philosophical arguments, not the narrative, so it's generally regarded as a clunker. This is ironic, because it is Chaucer who tells it.
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: THE MONK'S TALE
After receiving some grief from the Host about his probable "hunting" of women (see Prologue), the Monk agrees to tell a tale--but it's not lively, as the Host hoped.
The Monk details the tragedies of sixteen famous men and one woman, their lives and downfalls: seven connected with the Old Testament (Lucifer, Adam, Samson, Nebuchadnezzar, Balthasar, Holofernes, Antiochus); five from the classics (Hercules, Nero, Julius Caesar, Alexander, Croesus); and five from history (Queen Zenobia, Kings Peter of Spain and of Cyrus, Bernardo of Lombardy, Ugolino of Pisa). He says he has one hundred tragedies to relate, but the Knight interrupts him.
The tragedy form was popular in the Middle Ages; this one comes from Boccaccio. Like Chaucer's tales, these are fairly monotonous tragedies and the moral--that Fortune takes away as well as gives--is obvious.
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: THE SECOND NUN'S TALE
To combat idleness, which encourages vice and the devil, the Second Nun offers a translation of the life of St. Cecilia. She invokes a prayer to the Virgin Mary to help her present the tale.
Cecilia of Rome wishes to remain a virgin but is promised in marriage to Valerian, a pagan. On their wedding night she tells him anyone who touches her will be killed by her guardian angel. He wants proof (wouldn't you!), but she says he must first go to Pope Urban and be baptized. He goes and a vision appears. Convinced, he returns to find an angel with roses and lilies with Cecilia. Eventually Valerian's brother is also baptized, and both are caught and die martyrs' deaths. Cecilia too is supposed to die but she lives for three days after the pagans try to cut off her head. Pope Urban buries and canonizes her, and turns her house into a church.
The tale is in the popular form of a legend about a saint's life, as you might expect from a nun. This version of St. Cecilia's life is from Latin, and includes devices often found in legends, such as derivations of the meaning of the saint's name, which in this case are mostly wrong.
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: THE CANON'S YEOMAN'S TALE
Two strangers ride up, one in black, assumed to be a Canon (a churchman connected with a cathedral) and his Yeoman (servant), who has an odd-colored face, he says, from blowing in the fire. It turns out that the Canon is an alchemist (who tries to turn other metals into gold, usually in fire, a process which early medieval society believed happened naturally over time). The Canon dashes away in shame, but the Yeoman rambles on about the technical jargon the alchemists use, about how none of the experiments work, and about how, at this rate, he'll never get out of debt.
The tale is about a crooked alchemist who fools a priest into thinking he really can turn baser (lower) metals into gold. Through a series of tricks, he makes gold and silver appear out of coals and wax in the fire, and the priest is so impressed he buys the alchemist's "secret" formula for forty pounds. Needless to say, the alchemist does one more "magic" trick--he disappears, fast. The Yeoman then knocks the field of alchemy and ends with a mess of technical nonsense.
The tale is hard going for anyone who isn't an expert in alchemist terminology. Even by Chaucer's day, alchemy was considered by most to be a fake science, and many clerics disapproved of it as contrary to God's will.
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: THE MANCIPLE'S TALE
The Host asks the Manciple for his tale while the pilgrims are busy trying to keep the drunken Cook on his horse.
A man named Phoebus embodies every virtue--gentleness, kindness, bravery--but is very jealous of the wife he loves dearly. He has a white-feat
hered crow that can speak, and when he goes away, the wife's lover comes over. When Phoebus returns, the crow tells all. In a jealous rage, Phoebus kills his wife, then regrets it bitterly. Angry now at the bird for opening its beak, Phoebus pulls its white feathers and changes them for black, takes away the bird's voice, and kicks it out. The tale ends with advice against wicked gossip, in favor of keeping your tongue.
The tale is retold from a well-known fable in Ovid's Metamorphoses. (As in classical times, tales revolving around why something is so--here, the crows black feathers and raucous voice--were popular in the Middle Ages.) It's the shortest of all the complete tales, perhaps because Chaucer meant the Manciple to take his own advice about keeping his words down to a minimum!
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: THE PARSON'S TALE
The Host urges the Parson to be quick, since it's dusk, but the Parson produces a long sermon in prose about the Seven Deadly Sins, not really a tale at all.
The Parson touches on penitence, confession, grace, pride, envy, anger, laziness, greed, gluttony and lechery. His lengthy sermon, which most people probably wouldn't sit through in church, nevertheless ties together all the arguments of the other pilgrims by putting them on a higher plane, and serves as a fitting end to the Tales. His tale emphasizes the spiritual values underlying the pilgrimage.
Like the Knight, the Parson is an ideal figure, so it also makes sense that one should begin the Tales and the other end them. However, because of the plodding and unpoetic quality of the Parson's Tale, some readers doubt it is written by Chaucer. Take a look and see for yourself how it compares with the other tales.
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: CHAUCER'S RETRACTION
At the end Chaucer puts in a modest note asking readers to forgive him if there's anything in the tales they disapprove of. Anything displeasing, Chaucer says, comes from my lack of ability, since I'd have said it better if I could. (Yet at the start he tells us he has no choice but to write exactly what the pilgrims say!) He asks God to pray for him and forgive him the "worldly vanities" he has written or translated: Troilus and Criseyde, the House of Fame, Parliament of Fowls, Book of the Duchess, and other "lecherous" tales, even the Canterbury Tales. He revokes them all, asking Christ and Mary to save him on Judgment Day. It's not clear why Chaucer wrote this, but it serves again to remind us of the ultimate seriousness of Chaucer's tales and faith.
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: GLOSSARY
Here is a short glossary of the names that appear in the tales examined in this book.
ABSALOM The prissy, proper clerk in the Miller's Tale who is after Alison but can't get her.
ALISON The wife of John the carpenter in the Miller's Tale, who is young and flirtatious and decides to sleep with Nicholas behind her husband's back.
ARCITE One of the two knight "heroes" in the Knight's Tale, who gets released from prison and returns for the love of Emelye.
BOETHIUS An early Christian philosopher who wrote The Consolation of Philosophy, which Chaucer translated, about the divine order that exists behind the swings of fortune.
CHANTICLEER The self-assured rooster hero of the Nun's Priest's Tale. He doesn't listen to his dreams and so gets carried away by a fox.
EMELYE The object of desire in the Knight's Tale; Duke Theseus's sister-in-law.
FORTUNE Often personified as a fickle goddess, especially by Boethius, she raises people up or throws them down.
JOHN The cuckolded carpenter in the Miller's Tale. He believes in God and in the astrology dupe that Nicholas pulls on him. (Also the name of the Nun's Priest.)
MARS God of war in the Knight's Tale, but also used to represent the planet Mars and its astrological influences. Arcite prays to Mars for victory.
NICHOLAS The "hende" (pleasant and sly) clerk of the Miller's Tale who concocts a scheme for John so that he can sleep with Alison.
PALAMON The other young knight of the Knight's Tale, vying with his cousin Arcite for Emelye's love. He prays to Venus for victory.
PEROTHEUS An old friend of Arcite's and Theseus' in the Knight's Tale, who intercedes to get Arcite sprung from prison.
PERTELOTE Chanticleer's lady love who doesn't believe in the psychic power of dreams.
SATURN The god and planet of doom and chaos in the Knight's Tale (and elsewhere in Chaucer). He arranges that Venus' knight, Palamon, shall win Emelye.
THEBES The ancient city where Arcite and Palamon are from. Theseus of Athens conquers Thebes by defeating the tyrant Creon.
THESEUS Duke of Athens, conqueror of Thebes, he is the ruler who imprisons Arcite and Palamon, and later releases Arcite on Perotheus' request.
VENUS The goddess of love. Her "day" is Friday, when the tournament takes place in the Knight's Tale, and when Chanticleer gets caught in the Nun's Priest's Tale. Both Palamon and Chanticleer are described as servants of Venus.
^^^^^^^^^^CANTERBURY TALES: ON THE GENERAL PROLOGUE
To realize the exact extent of Chaucer's achievement in the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales, it is necessary to remember that the Middle Ages were not a time of portraits. It was a time of patterns, of allegories, of reducing the specific to the general and then drawing a moral from it.... What Chaucer was doing was entirely different.... He did not even set out to be entertaining. He merely set out to be accurate.
-Marchette Chute, Geoffrey Chaucer of England, 1958
Chaucer, like other debate narrators, takes no stand except in comic or ironic terms.... In all the tales, all human points of view have something to be said for them and something to be said against them.
-John Gardner, The Poetry of Chaucer, 1977
Chaucer's Knight is the personification of those [courtly] ideals, yet he is far more than the lay figure he would be were he that alone; like the other pilgrims taking this April journey to Canterbury, he is flesh and blood. He is one of those exceptional heroes who strive to live according to a great ideal yet who are at the same time understandably and understandingly human.
-Muriel Bowden, A Commentary on the General Prologue
to the Canterbury Tales, 1969
The next pilgrim was the Wife of Bath, that lusty realist beside whom only Falstaff and Sancho Panza are worthy to walk. It is not until the lady swings into action that her remarkable qualities become evident, but even the brief portrait in the Prologue makes it clear that here is no ordinary woman.
-Marchette Chute, Geoffrey Chaucer of England, 1958
Chaucer knows his heroine [Alison] from her plucked eyebrows to the laces on her shoes.... He calls her a pet and a doll and a piggie's eye, and records with delight that she was softer than sheep's wool and prettier than a pear tree in bloom. He is charmed with her... and considers her so "gay a popelote" that the reader forgets, under Chaucer's brilliant and affectionate guidance, that she is only a common little flirt of a kind that could be duplicated by the dozen in any town in any century.
-Marchette Chute, Geoffrey Chaucer of England, 1958
THE END
Canterbury Tales (Barron's Book Notes) Page 10