The Canterbury Tales

Read in a Penguin Classics translation from the 50s, this is a re-read for me. I last read this approaching 20 years ago when I needed distracting on a long haul flight. And having read it again, I can see why it did it's job! It's not exactly an easy read, it demands attention and concentration - no skimming here. but it rewards the attention with some classic pieces of story telling. The concept was enormous, each of the pilgrims (and there are approaching 30 identified) were to tell two tales. He didn't even get as far as one tale each, the work remains unfinished, but some of the stories are just sparkling studies of human nature even now. A lot of the stories are relayed as if the pilgrim is telling a story they have heard show more elsewhere, so a lot of them can be traced to other sources - there's little in the narrative arc that is original. What is all Chaucer is the linking passages, the representation of all of life in one group. They are a mixture of positions in life and it is noticeable that the ladies represented in the group and in the tales tend to be very strong females - very few shrinking violets here. For his time, that strikes me as noticeable. The introduction, when the pilgrims are introduces, could be (with a little tweaking) any group of random strangers you could gather together today. OK, there are a few more religious job titles then than now (they'd be bankers or management consultants now) but they're such an assorted bunch that they seem to spring to life as you read. I think that's part of the charm, this is the English at the birth of a national consciousness - these are my people, this is part of what makes us who we are. show less

24. The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
edition: Broadview Editions, Second Edition, edited by Robert Boenig & Andrew Taylor (2012)
OPD: 1400
format: 503-page large paperback
acquired: April read: Dec 30, 2023 – Apr 27, 2024, time reading: 62:07, 7.4 mpp
rating: 5
genre/style: Middle English Poetry theme: Chaucer
locations: on the road from London to Canterbury
about the author: Chaucer (~1342 – October 25, 1400) was an English poet and civil servant.

Chaucer is tricky because he’s hard to read and his tales vary so much, they are hard to summarize or classify. There is a Boccaccio element to them, but it’s a very different experience. Like Boccaccio, one thing that stands out is Chaucer’s naughty stories – sex and farts and show more trickery, money and wealth often playing a central role. The plague also has a role. One of Chaucer's tales is about three youths who hunt for Death because he has killed so many, and tragically find what they’re looking for. But what makes Chaucer most stand out from Boccaccio are the tellers of the tales. In Boccaccio, the ten youths are all of a class and many of them blend together, hard to differentiate. Chaucer’s tale is a social mixture – good and bad, wealthy and common. They are each distinct, wonderfully distinct, so much so that they, the tellers, stand out way more in memory than the tales themselves. These characters come out in the story prologues and there is simply more creativity, more social commentary, more insight into this medieval world than anything the stories themselves can accomplish, no matter how good the stories are. The Merchant’s Tale, my favorite, includes many references and wonderful debate between Hades and Persephone, a battle of the sexes. But it doesn’t touch on the Wife of Bath’s 1000-line prologue on being a wife to five men and all the experiences and judgments and justifications within, it’s not even close. She’s the best, but the Miller comes in early, drunkenly inserting this tale of sex and fart jokes, and bringing the whole level of content down. The Miller says, "I wol now quite the Knightes tale!" The knight has just told a more proper Boccaccio-inspired tale. By "quiting", the Miller means he his giving him some payback, getting back at him. (His tale has thematic consistency, but with common characters, farts and sex.) And the Cook’s tale is so awfully improper that it hasn’t been preserved, or maybe Chaucer only wrote 50 lines. Later, the Cook will throw up and fall off his horse. The Canon’s Yeoman exposes his own canon’s alchemy and trickery, getting fired on the spot before he tells his tale. This is all quite terrific stuff in and of itself, a rowdy uncontrolled mixture of societal levels, and mostly humorous confrontations (notably in a post-plague era of social mobility).

The other thing Chaucer does that Boccaccio doesn’t do in the Decameron, is write in verse. This is special all by itself. If you have read excerpts of Chaucer, there's a fair chance that like me you have been bewildered by it. It’s a weird language, oddly drawn out, then oddly compressed, obscuring the meaning, jamming in a weird accent. It doesn't make for great quotes or easy visits. But if you get deep into it, focus hard on it, something happens. It becomes magical, inimical, and lush in sound and freedom, the random inconsistent spelling as beautiful as the random inconsistent and sometimes heavily obscured phrasing. It also becomes recognizable. The more you read it, the more sense it makes. Although I was never able to scan it. Show me a page of Chaucer, and I’m immediately lost in indecipherable letters. I have to begin to read it and find the flow before it comes to life.

I find it interesting, but not inappropriate, that when Chaucer is discussed, it’s almost always his opening lines that are quoted - Whan that Aprill with hise shoures soote/The droghte of March had perced to the roote/And bathed every veyne in swich liquor/Of which vertu engendered is the flour What’s interesting is that Chaucer really doesn’t write that beautifully anywhere else. His language is generally much tamer and less trying, the rhythm more casual.

Last year I read [Troilus and Criseyde] and was enraptured in the language. There is no question the language there is better than here. And is drawn out, as he stays with long monologues that go pages and pages, the reader lost in the rhythms. This here is just not quite like that. Yes, he gets carried away a lot. But it’s always a little jerky and bumpy. There are monologues, but these are story telling monologues, with quick-ish plots. While I liked staying in the Merchant’s Tale, the writing clearly elevated and interesting, it was not the same. But T&C is both made and limited by its singular story. The Canterbury Tales expands on its cacophony of voices. The stories for me actually fade. But the prologues leave such lush impressions, they are somehow so real, and charming and Discworld-ish, and uncontained. It’s a much more powerful thing in my head.

As many know, I read this every morning beginning with April’s shoures soote on January 1. And, with the exception of the prose tales, the Tale of Melibee and The Pardoner’s Tale, it was always the best part of my day. The same could be said for T&C last year. I’ll miss being lost in this. A really special experience, and special gift to English speakers and the language's history.

2024
https://www.librarything.com/topic/360386#8521275 show less

If the topics of the tales are quite predictable, dealing with the typical and important subjects of the time (chivalry, Christianity, marriage...) it's the differences in between the tellers, reflecting their various backgrounds and education, that are fascinating. They are in fact reflected in their way to narrate, raw or metaphorical, simple or pompous, flowery or vulgar, allowing indeed Chaucer to brilliantly offers a multiple voices book where the style is constantly changing depending on the narrator. Here's a remarkable feat, serving perfectly well this vast pantomime all at once gaudy and poetical, funny and punchy.

Ironically, such wealth is also its weakness for, as in real life, where some people are great and fascinating show more conversationalist while others are just bore yawning you to death, so it is in 'The Canterbury Tales', where some tales are really entertaining while others just, well, soporific. Chaucer is clearly aware of it (he actually laughs it all by throwing amusing hints towards the reader) but, reading it all is, nevertheless, at times quite burdensome.

Worthy to note is, here's actually one of the first piece written in recognisable English, a language which is back then just starting to emerge. At the time indeed (14th century) it was gaining ground not only over French (the official language of the court; Henty IV, crowned in 1399, was the first king since the Norman conquest to have it as mother tongue...) but, also, over Latin, in reaction against the Catholic Church (a Wyclif had just translated the Bible in English for the Lollards to preach it...). With those tales Chaucer demonstrated English could be rich, creative, and prestigious too. We now know what its future had in store!

A classic on may levels. show less

As you can probably guess from my blithering, I really liked this one. As you probably also guessed, this is actually my second time reading this, and no, I’m not reviewing my rereads as a rule. However, this one took me a month to get through (Middle English and all that) and, as I’ve said, I really liked it, so I figure it deserves some thoughts. So:

Chaucer is a really good writer, y’all. He somehow manages to encapsulate characters and relationships in small amounts of space; tell stories that are still interesting, relevant, and relatable 650-odd years later; make you laugh and cry and worry while sticking to some pretty rigid poetic forms; and run the gamut of medieval literary genres in, like, 400 pages. Admittedly, his show more frame story is more of a sketch and some of the tales get into territory (usually misogynistic, in one instance racial) that makes me-the-21st-century-reader uncomfortable, but I also don’t think I should fail him for not living up to standards that didn’t exist when he was writing.

The Tales were pretty eye-opening for me too, since I was a teen the last time I read them and I’m a lot more widely read now. Like, that trope goes back that far? He was writing that genre? Had read that book? I also think a lot of the satire and sex went over my head the first time, but that has, thankfully, now been corrected.

All that said, unless you’re a masochistic nerd like me, read it in Modern English. You’ll get all the best bits, even if it loses something in translation.

10/10 show less

The Canterbury Tales is by a wide margin the best-known work of English literature from the medieval period. It's not only enshrined in the school History syllabus between Crop Rotation, Monasticism and Castles, but it's a book that many modern readers still seem to turn to for pleasure, despite the obvious difficulties caused by the linguistic and cultural distance of six centuries. I've often dipped into it pleasurably before, and I've had a copy sitting on my shelves for many years, but this is the first time I've tried a cover-to-cover read.

I found the language easier to deal with than I expected - Chaucer's version of southern English is a lot more straightforward for the modern reader than the nearly contemporary Sir Gawain and show more the Green Knight. Anyone who knows a bit of French or Latin and a bit of German or Dutch ought to be able to read it fairly easily with the help of the marginal glosses. Especially with 600 pages to practice on, you soon get the hang of what it means and a rough idea of how it sounds (I listened to an audio recording of the General Prologue for help with this). In fact, the pronunciation of Middle English is usually more logical than that of Modern English. If what's written is "knight", it makes far more sense to say cnicht (or kerniggut if you're John Cleese) than nite...

Like most people, I had mixed reactions to the Tales. The bawdy ones were fun - it's always interesting to see that people enjoyed fart-jokes as much (or perhaps even more) in those days as they do now. The chivalric-romance style of several other Tales was colourful but sometimes a bit slow for modern tastes (some of the descriptions in the "Knight's Tale" seem to go on for ever), but it was revealing to see that Chaucer was well aware of that and was prepared to make fun of it in the mock-heroic "Nun's Priest's Tale" and the deliberately boring and directionless "Tale of Sir Thopas", which is supposedly being told by the poet's narrator-persona, "Chaucer", until he's cut off by the Host.

There are several "high-minded" religious Tales that look as though they are meant to be taken straight - the blatantly antisemitic - "Prioress's Tale" is perhaps best ignored; the "Physician's Tale", a gruesome story about an honour-killing, is not much better, except that there at least the narrator seems to distance himself a little from the idea that it's better to kill your (innocent) daughter than risk shame attaching to her; the "Second Nun's Tale" (the gloriously over-the-top martyrdom of St Cecilia) is almost readable, but even I was forced into skimming by the "Parson's Tale", a lengthy and very dry sermon on the subject of "penance" (it does get a bit livelier when it's discussing the Seven Deadly Sins...).

Probably the most interesting aspect of the Tales overall is what Chaucer has to say about the relations between men and women. Several Tales deal with this topic explicitly in various different ways, and the core of the argument is obviously in the "Wife of Bath's Prologue and Tale" - she argues powerfully and directly that the world will not collapse into disorder if women are allowed to decide the course of their own lives. The "Franklin's Tale" also takes up the idea of an equitable marriage in which neither partner owes obedience to the other and presents it in a positive light. It's tempting to read something of the Chaucers' domestic situation into this, but of course we don't have the slightest bit of evidence for anything other than that Philippa Chaucer had a career of her own.

We read this for its scope, vitality and colour, and for the liveliness of Chaucer's verse, which manages to jump the centuries without any problem. It's striking how we're so used to groaning and expecting dullness or difficulty when we see a passage of verse in a modern prose novel - here it's precisely the opposite; we (rightly) groan when we see the prose text of the "Parson's Tale" and the "Tale of Melibee" coming up, and are relieved when we get back to verse again...

One - irrelevant - thought that struck me for the first time on this reading was to wonder how the practicalities of storytelling on horseback work out. Even on foot, it's difficult to talk to more than two or three people at once whilst walking along, and when riding you can't get as close together as you can on foot, plus you've got the noise of the horses. So I don't know how you would go about telling a story to a group of 29 riders in a way that they can all hear it. If they were riding two abreast, they would be spread out over something like 50m of road, and it's unlikely that the A2 was more than two lanes wide in the 14th century... show less

I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to be done with a book. Maybe when I was in school, but not in more recent memory. So… apologies to all the people who have a proper appreciation for classic literature and what Chaucer accomplished here. I do realize this was an impressive and ambitious work and deserves a higher rating for many objective reasons, but my reviews and star ratings are based primarily on my subjective thoughts. I’ve started trying to fit some classics into my reading schedule over the past few years, but I’m not a very scholarly reader and I don’t have a strong foundation in or love for the classics.

For anybody not familiar with the basic premise, The Canterbury Tales has a framing story in which a group of show more pilgrims who don’t know each other are traveling together toward a shrine in Canterbury. The host of the group talks them into telling stories to help pass the time as they travel. So we have a couple dozen or so pilgrims riding together on horses and somehow sharing stories amongst all of them. I can only assume they were passing around a megaphone or shouting their poetic tales at the top of their lungs or using some sort of relay system…

My edition is in the original Middle English. I was worried I might have trouble with it, and it looked a little intimidating at first, but it wasn’t as difficult as I expected. I read most of it out loud (my cat hates me now) because I found it easier to understand the words through a combination of hearing in my own ears how they sounded combined with the context, plus most of it is in verse so I was able to appreciate the rhythm of it better that way. My edition also has a lot of commentary, ranging from definitions of the words to more extensive commentary about the sources of Chaucer’s tales, their themes, and historical references. I have to admit I skimmed the commentary more and more as I went along, enjoyed the stories less and less, and lost motivation.

According to the commentary, it’s believed that all of the tales were inspired by other works known at the time, but Chaucer put his own spin on it or combined different aspects of different versions of those stories. Most of that went over my head and I was only aware of it thanks to the commentary. The tales were not at all the sort of thing I enjoy reading. Some of them were romances, some of them were “lustances”, lots of them were populated by dishonest, cheating, manipulative people. Some of them were very preachy.

There was some humor here and there. Some of it also caught me by surprise. There I was, reading along in this archaic language about people living in archaic times and suddenly there was something like a guy kissing a woman’s butt and mistaking her pubic hair for a beard. I was so surprised the first time I came across something like that that I had to re-read the text to make sure I hadn’t misinterpreted it. Fortunately I hadn’t misread it, because I think I would have been really alarmed to realize I’d come up with that all in my own head. So in that respect I had some humorous moments, particularly with some of the earlier stories, as some of the content was not at all what I’d been expecting. There’s also some humor just in remembering my reactions as I read various things. So I didn’t enjoy the reading experience itself very much, but I guess I have some enjoyment from the memory of the reading experience now that it’s over!

As far as holding my attention, I think the Man of Law’s Tale probably worked the best for me. The Clerk’s Tale enraged me. That wasn’t the only tale that I had conflicts with of course, but I don’t usually get too up in arms when I read older works that conflict with my values. That one pushed some buttons for me, though. And that last “tale”… that one might have done me in if I hadn’t known it was the very last tale. I guess it was a fitting end considering the characters and the premise, but I think I would have preferred to read another trope-filled romance story and I hate those.

Ok, I have to stop typing this ridiculously long review and go sing and dance about how happy I am that I’m finally done now! ;) show less

What do they say? Third time is a charm? It took me a third try to understand the attraction of this work, and even enjoy it.

I read the Bantam Duel-Language version, edited by A. Kent and Constance Hieatt. Reading the duel-language, with the Middle English on the opposite page of the Modern English helped tremendously. I could read the modern version first, for understanding, then read the original version for the poetry and humor. In this way, I could appreciate both the meat and the broth of the stories.

I am very glad that I read a book a year or two on the whole topic of Love and Chivalry in the Medieval times. It shines the light on a lot of behavior and actions in these stories which would have been dark and repulsive to me if I show more didn't understand where the ideas came from. Not that I'm saying the behaviors were not dark and repulsive. Even though not all of the tales were included here, I feel no compulsion to seek out more of them. This was an interesting read, and I'm glad I gave it a third chance. show less