Sep 14, 2023

Adult Faith Formation, September 12th -- Canterbury Tales, Session 1 -- Introduction to Geoffrey Chaucer and the Canterbury Tales

 What is the goal of this course?

I hope that we will see why Chaucer and his Canterbury Tales are so important. More than that, our goal is to enjoy reading the Tales and further our enjoyment of all great literature.  And, most of all, I want us to see the Catholic Vision presented in the Canterbury Tales.



Listen online [here]!






Recommended youtube videos --

Overview of the Canterbury Tales by "Course Hero"   [here]!

Overview of Old English and Middle English  [here]!



---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Canterbury Tales

Adult Faith Formation Series, 2023 & 2024

Session 1: Introduction to Chaucer and the Canterbury Tales

 

Class Schedule, Tuesdays, from 7 to 8 pm

September 12th – Introduction to Chaucer and his Canterbury Tales

September 19th – The General Prologue

October 3rd – Tales of Romance and True Love: The Knight’s Tale, the Miller’s Tale, the Reeve’s Tale

October 10th – Happiness in Marriage, What Women Really Want: The Wife of Bath’s Tale and the             Clerk’s Tale

October 17th – Happiness in Marriage, Trust and Fidelity: The Merchant’s Tale and the Franklin’s Tale

October 24th – Review of the first have of the tales and preparations for the tales that remain

 

Several more classes will follow in 2024

 

 

I. Why should I read the Canterbury Tales?

A quote from GK Chesterton proves an answer: 

“There is at the back of all our lives an abyss of light, more blinding and unfathomable than any abyss of darkness; and it is the abyss of actuality, of existence, of the fact that things truly are, and that we ourselves are incredibly and sometimes almost incredulously real. It is the fundamental fact of being, as against not being; it is unthinkable, yet we cannot unthink it, though we may sometimes be unthinking about it; unthinking and especially unthanking. For he who has realized this reality knows that it does outweigh, literally to infinity, all lesser regrets or arguments for negation, and that under all our rumblings there is a subconscious substance of gratitude. That light of the positive is the business of the poets, because they see all things in the light of it more than do other men.

Chaucer was a child of light and not merely of twilight, the mere red twilight of one passing dawn of revolution, or the grey twilight of one dying day of social decline. He was the immediate heir of something like what Catholics call the Primitive Revelation; that glimpse that was given of the world when God saw that it was good; and so long as the artist gives us glimpses of that, it matters nothing that they are fragmentary or even trivial; whether it be in the mere fact that a medieval Court poet could appreciate a daisy, or that he could write, in a sort of flash of blinding moonshine, of the lover who ‘slept no more than does the nightingale’. These things belong to the same world of wonder as the primary wonder at the very existence of the world; higher than any common pros and cons, or likes and dislikes, however legitimate. Creation was the greatest of all Revolutions. It was for that, as the ancient poet said, that the morning stars sang together; and the most modern poets, like the medieval poets, may descend very far from that height of realization and stray and stumble and seem distraught; but we shall know them for the Sons of God, when they are still shouting for joy. This is something much more mystical and absolute than any modern thing that is called optimism; for it is only rarely that we realize, like a vision of the heavens filled with a chorus of giants, the primeval duty of Praise.”

 

1. Chaucer is the father of modern English (he wrote in Middle English, and helped save the language)

2. Chaucer is also the father of the novel:  “Shakespear and Milton were the greatest sons of their country; but Chaucer was the Father of his country … and apart from that, he made something that has altered all Europe … the novel.”  GK Chesterton

3. Canterbury Tales was the first literary work printed in English (with the printing press)

4. Canterbury Tales gives us a Catholic worldview and even hands on profound Catholic theology in a fun and surprising way.

 

II. Who was Geoffrey Chaucer?  What were the Middle Ages?  What was Middle English?

A. Geoffrey Chaucer:  1340 to 25 October 1400.  Son of John Chaucer, the vintner/winemaker.  A page in the house of Duke Clarence. A soldier, diplomat, tax collector, and a clerk for the King. By marriage, connected to John of Gaunt who was one of the richest and most influential men of that age (something of a king-maker) – the sister of Chaucer’s wife was John of Gaunt’s mistress and later his wife.

Chaucer is commonly called the “Father of English Literature” and the “Father of English Poetry” and even the “Father of the English Language”.  He is also the first poet to be buried in what became “The Poet’s Corner” in Westminster Abbey.

All sorts of English words and phrases were first recorded by Chaucer: Time and tide wait for no man. All good things must come to an end. First he wrought and afterward he taught. 

And many words: Milky Way, Universe, absence, accident, add, bagpipe, box, chant, cholera, cinnamon, dishonest, examination, femininity, flute, funeral, horizon, laxative, notify, outrageous, princess, rumour, scissors, snort, vacation, village, vulgar, and many more!

Also, Chaucer introduced some Arabic words into English:  Almanac, tartar, satin, checkmate …

 

Chaucer wrote in iambic pentameter, the first to do so in English.  Without Chaucer, we would not have Shakespear.  Iambic pentameter is a line of poetry that alternates unstressed and stressed syllables, equaling 10 syllables per line – often characterized as sounding like a heartbeat.

Various rhyme schemes are used throughout the Tales:  AA BB CC (most common by far), AB AB ABB, AB ABB CC, AA BA AB.  Some portions are written in prose rather than poetry.

 

 

B. What were the “Middle Ages”? The medieval period of European history between the fall of the Roman Empire and the beginning of the Renaissance.  Improperly called the “Dark Ages” – actually, one of the most glorious and brilliant ages in the history of Western Civilization!  Roughly, AD 500 to 1500.

 

The time immediately around Chaucer included both the Black Death (Bubonic Plague, 1347-1351) and the 100 Years War (1337-1453). The war cost the lives of around 2 to 3 million (not just soldiers, but many died because of the failure in quality of life); while the Death cost Europe around 25 million, which is about 33% of the total population.  The plague especially hit the priests and nuns who cared for the sick – this created something of a crisis in religious life. [some parallel to the time around WWI and WWII, and the consequences after]

 

The system of feudalism broke society into various classes:  The King, with the clergy; the noble lords; the knights; and the peasants.  But, in Chaucer’s day, the middle class was emerging (including merchants, doctors, educated clerks, tradesmen, etc).  This middle class was causing stress in society, and Chaucer makes many of his pilgrims to be of this group.

 

 

C. What was “Middle English”? The Norman Conquest (William the Conqueror) in 1066 had dramatic consequences for the English language. The Anglo-Saxons spoke Old English, but the Normans spoke French and imposed this upon the country.  Old English began to take on new words (not only from French and Latin, but also from Norse) and also to have huge changes in grammar (losing many inflectional endings, gaining a set word order, etc).

 

Old English, from the Dream of the Rood: 

Hwæt, iċ swefna cyst     secgan wylle,

 hwæt mē ġemǣtte     tō midre nihte

 syðþan reordberend     reste wunedon.

 Þūhte mē þæt iċ ġesāwe     syllicre trēow

5on lyft lǣdan,     lēohte bewunden,

 bēama beorhtost.     Eall þæt bēacen wæs

 begoten mid golde;     ġimmas stōdon

 fæġere æt foldan scēatum;     swylċe þǣr fīfe wǣron

 uppe on þām eaxleġespanne.     Behēoldon þǣr enġel Dryhtnes ealle

10fæġere þurh forðġesceaft.     Ne wæs ðǣr hūru fracodes ġealga,

 ac hine þǣr behēoldon     hāliġe gāstas,

 men ofer moldan,     ond eall þēos mǣre ġesceaft.

 

Middle English, from the opening of Canterbury Tales:

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote,

The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,

And bathed every veyne in swich licóur

Of which vertú engendred is the flour;

Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,

And smale foweles maken melodye,

That slepen al the nyght with open ye,

So priketh hem Natúre in hir corages,

Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,

And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,

To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;

And specially, from every shires ende

Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,

The hooly blisful martir for to seke,

That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.

 

Modern English, from Hamlet:

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

 

 

In many ways, Chaucer saved English – since his works preserved our language, when everyone else (and also Chaucer himself, sometimes) was writing in French.  Also, his version of Middle English (spoken around London) happens to be very close to Modern English – additionally, Chaucer does preserve some of the diversity of Middle English (for example, in the Reeve’s tale, he has two characters speak in a northern dialect).

 

 

 

III. What is the goal of this course?

I hope that we will see why Chaucer and his Canterbury Tales are so important. More than that, our goal is to enjoy reading the Tales and further our enjoyment of all great literature.  And, most of all, I want us to see the Catholic Vision presented in the Canterbury Tales.

 

From the Knight’s Tale (lines 2843-2852): 

"Right as ther dyed nevere man," quod he,

"That he ne lyvede in erthe in some degree,

Right so ther lyvede never man," he seyde,

"In al this world, that som tyme he ne deyde.

This world nys but a thurghfare ful of wo,

And we been pilgrymes, passynge to and fro.

Deeth is an ende of every worldly soore."                 

And over al this yet seyde he muchel moore

To this effect, ful wisely to enhorte

The peple that they sholde hem reconforte.

 

Perhaps this “pilgrimage” is the story of our lives, and indeed the story of the Church.  In the Church are the good (the knight, the parson, the plowman) and the bad (the miller, the prioress); but we are all in this together and we all interact with one another. 

 

 

IV. How long would it have taken to make this pilgrimage?  (taken from the internet)

Probably four days, with seven to eight days for whole round trip to Canterbury and back. Chaucer’s pilgrims are depicted as leaving London from Southwark - the Tabard Inn was a common spot from which London pilgrims began the journey, though others started at Westminster Abbey, across the Thames and on the other side of the medieval city of London. The distance from London to Canterbury on the Pilgrim’s Way was about 68 miles. Working from medieval accounts of how fast travelers on horseback could move, a slow retinue with lots of wagons and baggage could only do about 30 miles a day, though pilgrims would be less encumbered and could probably do close to 40 miles a day fairly easily. This means the pilgrimage could be done on horse fairly comfortably in two to three days.

 

But medieval pilgrims seem to have been in no hurry, and the evidence suggests that four fairly leisurely days would be more likely. A pilgrimage made in 1357 by the French dowager Queen Isabella certainly took four days, as did a royal procession by the French King Jean in 1360. References to various such journeys and other records indicate that there were lodging houses at three main points along the route: Dartford, Rochester and Ospringe. So a very likely itinerary for a four day journey would be:

 

Day 1: Southwark to Dartford – 15 miles. Day 2: Dartford to Rochester – 13 miles. Day 3: Rochester to Ospringe – 17 miles. Day 4: Ospringe to Canterbury – 8 miles.

This would mean three evenly-spaced days of easy travelling with a shorter fourth day, leaving plenty of time for devotions at the shrine of St Thomas, or sight seeing or just drinking. Or all of the above.

 

There are only a few references to places in the framing narratives between the tales and because the Canterbury Tales is a fragmentary and unfinished work, it’s actually impossible to fit the tales neatly into specific parts of the itinerary above. But the geographic references we have fit the itinerary itself fairly well. The “Reeve’s Prologue” (ll. 3907–7) has the host, Harry Bailey, hurrying the Reeve up, noting that they are passing Greenwich and Deptford and saying that it is already “half way prime” or about 7:30 am. So they would have left the south bank of the Thames in the early morning and would now be well on their way down the road, following the south bank of the river.

 

The next landmark reference we get is in the “Monk’s Prologue,” where the host notes “Lo, Rochester stands here close by.” Since he is asking the Monk to hurry up and tell his tale, this fits with the idea the group intended to stop at Rochester for their second night.

 

Then we get a slightly more oblique reference which indicates their third night was spent at Ospringe. The “Canon Yeoman’s Prologue” describes the pilgrims being caught up with on the road by the Canon and his Yeoman and says this was: “Before we had ridden a full five miles, at Boughton under the Blean Forest.”  A few lines later the Yeoman tells them or “Sirs, just this morning I saw you ride out of your hostelry.” Boughton is a parish just out of Faversham and five miles back up the Pilgrim’s Way would bring you to Ospringe, where we know there were pilgrim hostelries at the time, so this makes it most likely their third night was spent there.

 

In his 1906 article on the subject, John Tatlock argued for a three day itinerary, though this seems to be based on the idea that pilgrims in Chaucer’s day would travel faster than the royal processions of King Jean or Queen Isabella and on his interpretation of the likely order of the tales. This is possible, but the four day journey seems more likely for people who wanted to spend some time at the shrine before going back to London. So it’s most likely they took four days there and three to four days back; making the whole thing a quite pleasant springtime holiday.

 

At the very end of the journey, just as they come to the edge of Canterbury, the Parson tells his “tale” which is really a sermon on virtue and repentance – emphasizing that no one is beyond the hope of salvation, if only people are contrite and sincere.  There is a significant hint in the prologue as the Parson is about to give his sermon:  “And therefore, if you wish -- I will not deceive you -- I will yow tell a merry tale in prose to conclude all this festivity and make an end. And Jesus, for his grace, send me wit to show you the way, in this journey, of that same perfect glorious pilgrimage that is called Jerusalem celestial.”  This pilgrimage in which we join is symbolic of our pilgrimage through this life, our journey toward heaven.

 

 

V. A few additional thoughts on why we should read the Canterbury Tales (taken from the internet)

 

I would recommend it for many, many reasons. Be warned, this is a long post—as I have strong opinions on this matter!

 

First, there is a great pleasure in mastering difficult things like an older form of English. As you learn to read it, you find yourself recognizing analogues and thinking, “Aha! That’s where our modern term comes from!” That is enormously satisfying, but it’s only an argument for learning Middle English, not necessarily reading Chaucer.

 

Second, The Canterbury Tales has something in it to appeal to every reader because it is a collection of short stories, and Chaucer has a very wide range of interests. You will find everything from philosophy to fart jokes, from sex to spirituality. So, if you grow bored by the length of the Knight’s Tale and would prefer the bed-swap humor of the Reeve’s Tale, you can skip one and pick the other. “Turn the leef and chese another tale. Blameth nat me if ye chese awry,” as Chaucer would phrase it.

 

Third, Chaucer can be hilarious in a self-deprecating way. Even when it’s his narrator Geoffrey’s turn to tell his first tale, the characters Chaucer has created rebel against the author! They interrupt the story of Sir Thopas and demand he start over with something new!

 

The thing many readers fail to see is that the narrator’s voice, “Geoffrey the Pilgrim,” isn’t really the author Geoffrey Chaucer. Instead, the voice talking in the poem is a medieval Forest Gump, who describes exactly what he sees, but he always fails to connect the dots. If anybody asks Geoffrey something, he’s going to misinterpret what he perceives in some humorous way.

 

There are some exceptions to that unreliable narrator—the Plowman, the Parson, for instance—are exactly as Geoffrey describes them—straightforward good guys. However, in many other cases, the reader who “gets the joke” sees that Geoffrey is misinterpreting the world around him. He’s an unreliable narrator in the best sense.

 

That’s why it’s hilarious to read how Geoffrey praises some figures who are villains and expresses doubts about others who are pretty much archetypes of goodness. See, for instance, the description of that “good fellow” the Shipman (who’s actually a pirate from Dartmouth and Penzance, a hive of scum and villainy), or how impressed Geoffrey is with the Squire (who’s really a girl-chasing playboy in contrast with his gruff and experienced father!) Or the way Geoffrey the narrator criticizes the Oxford Clerk for his lack of financial success, (“ther was little gold in his coffre”). However, Chaucer the author wants his audience to see the Clerk’s an idealistic college kid in love with learning for its own sake, with us seeing through Geoffrey’s faulty narration.

 

Fourth, Chaucer is the master of intentional ambiguity. Part of the fun of closely reading his works is discovering his characters are not who they appear to be, and the pilgrims sometimes reveal new depths we would not expect from their description in the General Prologue. As they tell stories, they reveal more and more about themselves, and those revelations are often paradoxical or surprising.

 

The mercantile, bullying, and dominating Wife of Bath who’s slept her way through five former husbands and seized their assets? In her tale, she reveals that in spite of her independence, stubbornness, and strength—she’s really still a hopeless romantic. She’s still looking for the love of her life in her late forties in spite of one husband who cheated on her and another who beat her.

 

The Prioress? Geoffrey the pilgrim praises her French but drops the detail that she doesn’t speak Parisian French, just French as spoken at Stratford-at-Bowe. To put that joke in modern context, “She speaks French just the way they do in Dallas! With a Texas accent!” Geoffrey the pilgrim lauds her dining habits and her gold bling and her kindness to animals, while Chaucer the author wants the reader to see through the unreliable narration that she’s gluttonous, she violates the rules of her order, she’s more concerned with courtly imitation than ecclesiastical propriety, and she has abandoned her vows of poverty (and possibly chastity).

 

The Pardoner, who is depicted initially as a eunuch, sexual deviant, or homosexual, is called a “gelding or a mare.” He is characterized as a con-man and a crook selling fake relics. However, when it is his turn to tell a tale, he embraces the role other pilgrims have assumed about him. He challenges the reader, “a vicious man can yet tell a virtuous tale.” Then, he launches into a brilliant sermon on the theme radix malorum est cupiditas, about how the love of money is a spiritual cancer that can corrupt anyone who clings to it rather than God.

 

Another reason The Canterbury Tales are worth reading is the very clever interconnections between stories. You can pick and read individual tales with isolated pleasure, but Chaucer designed them to link to each other. Different stories respond to each other and build upon each other, echo or challenge each other. Five of them in the “Marriage Group” are actually a debate about what makes a happy marriage, with the Wife of Bath arguing female control is best, the Clerk presenting a worst-case scenario for a submissive wife, the Merchant arguing that all marriage is generally awful and filled with deception no matter what you do, and the Franklin (on the surface) arguing for equality through generosity, but (below the surface) changing the debate to be about what constitutes nobility, and why parvenu generosity like his own makes him an equal to hereditary aristocracy.

 

Other groupings appear throughout the larger collection as well, and that ever-growing interconnection culminates in the Nun’s Priest’s Tale, which systematically explores the themes of all the earlier tales—questions of destiny vs. free will; social order and nobility; what women really want in marriage and what makes a relationship work, and so forth. However, the Nun’s Priest puts the entire debate in the mouths (beaks?) of farmyard fowl, deflating the pretensions of the whole endeavor, even as his characters quote bits from earlier tales, or in the case of the Wife of Bath, elevate her to equality with Aristotle. There’s something supremely silly about a rooster’s pretensions in citing classical philosophers with his wife, Lady Pertalote.

 

The Canterbury Tales, if you are paying attention, is a massive, interconnected circuit of allusions to each other in delightful and surprising ways.

 

Last of all, the reason The Canterbury Tales are worth reading is that they are about the pilgrimage of life: la pelinerage humain. Saint Augustine and some later medieval French poets used the same symbolism, but Chaucer does it with panache. It’s not just a story about a bunch of tourists who start out in a bar and then make their way to Canterbury to see a stuffy old shrine. It’s a story about the brief journey of existence we have with our fellow humans—how we begin our lives in one place, but wander, get lost, quarrel, and slowly and surely end up in another place in spite of ourselves.

 

The Canterbury Tales are about how we start the day fresh in the first morning, walking along, and learning to get along with each other as we quarrel and argue and tell dirty jokes and insult each other and debate deep spiritual matters and work through “that auld, auld dance” of human relationships. Sometimes, we kiss and make up (like the Pardoner and Harry Bailey). Sometimes, we are greeted by new fellow wayfarers (like the Canon and the Canon’s Yeoman).

 

However, as the road goes on, we know that our journey will end by the last sunlight of the third day as our shadows stretch out twelve feet behind us and we dimly see the gates of Canterbury-that’s-really-Heaven, life’s ultimate pilgrimage destination. Then, the Parson pauses, and he says he will “knit up all this feast with a merrie tale,” the tale of how we can save our souls through faith.

 

The Parson’s sermon is so to the point that the fictional voice of the poet himself stops the sequence of narrative, ends the storytelling contest, and retracts his previous works, and begs his audience that—if anything he said had any value to the reader, that they light a candle for him and say a prayer for Chaucer’s soul.

 

Chaucer is probably the author who has most impacted my thinking and my love of literature. Every October 25th, even though I’m not Catholic, I go to a Catholic church to light a candle for him.