Chaucer's Canterbury Tales
Published May 26, 2005
"O Lord, oure Lord, thy name how merveillous" —Chaucer's Canterbury TalesMy fiancé and I are reading Ways of the Christian Mystics. Because he doesn't like to read together--and I love to--we compromise by not reading together very often; though, we often choose to read the same books. As a result, it doesn't come as a great surprise that he sometimes falls asleep when we read together; it's tempting to finish the book without him, but that would defeat the ends of romance and sweetness that our reading together serves. (It's not so romantic when set against the sounds of his snoring.)
Anyhow, Ways of the Christian Mystics begins with a discussion concerning the history of pilgrimages. It explains that pilgrimages encourage "the spiritual dialogue between man and creation," as the journey to a sacred shrine or place brings them closer to God. Redemption comes from being close to God. Marching quickly through hundreds of years of pilgrimage history, Ways entertains secular and religious folk alike. It shares how Celtic monks traveled to shrines and/or the Holy Land to bring themselves closer to God, and that is when I thought of the Canterbury Tales, specifically "The Prioress's Tale." I recalled that the Prioress and many other pilgrims had less transparent motives for their pilgrimages--and, yes, I know the difference between history and fiction.
The Tales begin with "the General Prologue" where Chaucer introduces all of the pilgrims. The Prioress is described as a gentlewoman, possessing all the etiquette/manners and sympathetic trappings of nobility. She keeps pets, including little dogs, which she feeds scraps from the dinner table. She wears a bangle on her wrist and a brooch/necklace (rather than a rosary, I assume, if rosaries existed yet) that reads "Amor vincit omnia" (the phrase "Love Conquers All" could be evidence of her hypocrisy, and/or symbolize an interest in physical love--sex and motherhood are probably not a terrific obsession for a Prioress). Notably, she doesn't act like a pious nun. In the prologue, she's a coquettish social climber who's more reminiscent of a woman attempting to maneuver her way through a royal court than a House of God.
"The Prologue" introduces the idea of an entertaining storytelling contest, and so each character tells a tale. The Prioress tells a violent, sentimental, religious tale that makes listeners weep and turn away in horror. We empathize with the story's main character, a young child (or, at least, I think we're supposed to); thus, when she draws parallels between herself and her tales' main character, she wants the reader to feel sorry for her as well. The problem: She isn't an innocent child. So why does she want us to see her as innocent and pitiable?
- Chaucer's Canterbury Tales
- Published: May 26, 2005
- Type: Review
- Section: Books
- Filed Under: Books: History, Books: Literature and Fiction, Books: Nonfiction, Books: Philosophy, Books: Religion, Books: Spirituality, Review
- Writer: Voracious Reader
- Voracious Reader's BC Writer page
- Voracious Reader's personal site
- Spread the Word
- Like this article?
- Email this
Save to del.icio.us
Comments
Her fastidiousness stuck with me too, but so did the idea of her being a permapilgrim. She would be the type to always be one a trip to X or Y shrine, and that fact struck me as being strange for a prioress.
I thnk it may be another insight into her character, in the sense that her constant pilgrimages would illustrate her piety.
I thnk it may be another insight into her character, in the sense that her constant pilgrimages would illustrate her piety.*
Or at least her need to be perceived in that light.
Last year I used this text to discuss narrative strategies and the rhetorics of torture, comparing it both to THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST and episodes of SOUTH PARK in the context of a university English Literature class in Mar del Plata, Argentina. It took a little patience, but I think these people will never see torture the same way again. Even though most of their partents lived through the realities of torture during the "Proceso" of the '70s, they were initially blind to the power of terror.
I belive I'm in Ms. Rivers camp. The Prioress may have been "pious" to the extent that she believed in God/Jesus, but she didn't understand the whys and wherefores. She believes in giving greater charity to dogs than Jews (or faithless monks) and I'm not sure that Chaucer meant for that to be a good thing. It's unclear that she is spending time on the pilgrimage thinking of nonearthly love and God. She seems fixated on suffering, her own, and not as much on spiritual mysteries etc.
She likes to be dainty and hold herself above people, but she doesn't want to be like them. She doesn't want to help the poor or come to a deeper understanding of faith. You could also read the brooch as meaning that she was sleeping with someone(s) (very impious for a Prioress) and was unhappy that she couldn't have a child.
I could be wrong. Is there a portion(s) of the Tale that make you believe she's connecting with spirituality?
Heyn Irb. I posted a response to your comment on my website too. The question I have for you is there.
Also, do you have your own blog?
i enjoyed this VR, although i've never read the book. certainly i've been meaning to, on account of Pasolini's film is wonderful. One of these days...
Duke, I know what you're saying, I am going to have to live an extra 25 years just to catch up.
Not to take anything away from Chaucer's prose, but has anyone read the Tales adapted in modern English?
Aaron, thanks for the hat tip.
What's the title of Pasolini's film? I'd like to check it out, and I'm interested in seeing which tales he does and in what order he does them.
Stick with me now, it's "Canterbury Tales", in Italian it's "Racconti di Canterbury".
SFC nailed it right there.
it's not the best of Pasolini's loose trilogy that has Cantubury Tales, Arabian Nights and the masterpiece, The Decameron, but it's still wonderful. And rather rude in places.
I've read only small portions of this in Modern English on the internet. Sometimes I look at different versions of works because the stories will be arranged in a different order and the introductions have different theories and criticism about the tale etc.
In general, though, I'm very careful with translations because they sometimes say a little too much about the translator and too little about the original text and author.
I've read on Amazon that Nevill Coghill's translation is pretty decent, but I've never taken a peak at it.
"In general, though, I'm very careful with translations because they sometimes say a little too much about the translator and too little about the original text and author. "
i totally agree on that. it's like if i'm watching a non-english film, and thinking to myself "this dislogue is horrible"
WHOSE dialogue is horrible? does it bear any relation to the original speech? who knows? multi-lingual types, perhaps.
i've often worried that i'm some sort of xenophobe, since i instinctively lose a small chunk of interest in a book if i find it's been translated. i think the worry is that the author's words have been mangled in some way. but some times you can't avoid it.
I enjoyed Pasolini's Decameron, but I was not aware he had made a film of the Arabian Nights. *sigh* The Decameron, another book I need to read.
lol SFC, who's keeping track? so much to get through!
he did indeed make Arabian Nights, it has pride of place in my Pasolini Section of my DVD collection. alongside Salo, which in fact i have never watched on DVD, since the one time on VHS was plenty.
might watch it again actually, on account of on-and-off reading of the horrific source novel.
Arabian Nights is an INCREDIBLY rude film. maybe not that much more so than The Decameron, mind.
I recently found a complete set of Sir Richard Burton's multi-volume Arabian Nights, and I know I shouldn't, but I will probably buy it. Viewers of Disney's Aladdin would probably be in for a surprise if they saw what was cut out for the film version.
SFC, i know the pain of "i shouldn't, but i will". for example, in tescos there is the 2-disc goodfellas for 8.99. I know the time will come when my local HMV will finally get the scorsese box again, and therefore i'll be fit to grab it, finacnes permitting. but yet, walking past that 2-disc set, even though i know i will have it as part of the box one day, i can't help but think - "i shouldn't, but yet, how can i not?"
and damn right with regards aladin. i'd no idea the book was so filthy until seeing Pasolini's flick.
I prefer the term "bawdy".
I'm with SFC's comment which actually appears at the bottom of the thread for Seeds of Destruction.
It is hard to avoid that translation problem. I was thinking that in those instances where the original can't be read, then maybe looking at multiple translations would be best?
If A, B, and C, have something similar then you're probably safe.
That doesn't repair the loss of the original rythm, gendered endings and multiple meanings to words being lost, but it might help.????





I think it was the Prioress who impressed me that she ate so carefully that "in her cup, no morsel could be seen." It was memorable twice, that it was so descriptive of the woman, and that it was unusual enough to remark on it.
To me, this defined a woman whose attention was on appearances and not on simple enjoyment of her meal. Perhaps because I was 12 or 13 when I last read the Tales, very little else stuck in my memory...