The Canterbury Tales

by Geoffrey Chaucer

The procession that crosses Chaucer's pages is as full of life and as richly textured as a medieval tapestry. The Knight, the Miller, the Friar, the Squire, the Prioress, the Wife of Bath, and others who make up the cast of characters -- including Chaucer himself -- are real people, with human emotions and weaknesses. When it is remembered that Chaucer wrote in English at a time when Latin was the standard literary language across western Europe, the magnitude of his achievement is even more remarkable. But Chaucer's genius needs no historical introduction; it bursts forth from every page of The Canterbury Tales.

If we trust the General Prologue, Chaucer intended that each pilgrim should tell two tales on the way to Canterbury and two tales on the way back. He never finished his enormous project and even the completed tales were not finally revised. Scholars are uncertain about the order of the tales. As the printing press had yet to be invented when Chaucer wrote his works, The Canterbury Tales has been passed down in several handwritten manuscripts.

Genres: Classics, Fiction, Poetry, Literature, School, Medieval, Short Stories

342 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1400

About the author

Geoffrey Chaucer (c. 1343 – 25 October 1400) was an English poet, author, and civil servant best known for The Canterbury Tales. He has been called the "father of English literature", or, alternatively, the "father of English poetry". He was the first writer to be buried in what has since come to be called Poets' Corner, in Westminster Abbey. Chaucer also gained fame as a philosopher and astronomer, composing the scientific A Treatise on the Astrolabe for his 10-year-old son, Lewis. He maintained a career in the civil service as a bureaucrat, courtier, diplomat, and member of parliament.
Among Chaucer's many other works are The Book of the Duchess, The House of Fame, The Legend of Good Women, and Troilus and Criseyde. He is seen as crucial in legitimising the literary use of Middle English when the dominant literary languages in England were still Anglo-Norman French and Latin. Chaucer's contemporary Thomas Hoccleve hailed him as "the firste fyndere of our fair langage" (i.e., the first one capable of finding poetic matter in English). Almost two thousand English words are first attested to in Chaucerian manuscripts. As scholar Bruce Holsinger has argued, charting Chaucer's life and work comes with many challenges related to the "difficult disjunction between the written record of his public and private life and the literary corpus he left behind". His recorded works and his life show many personas that are "ironic, mysterious, elusive [or] cagey" in nature, ever-changing with new discoveries.

Reviews

[emma · Rating 3 out of 5]

welcome to...THE JANTERUARY TALES.

get it? like the canterbury tales? only january?

anyway.

this is an installment of PROJECT LONG CLASSICS, by which i make intimidating books less scary by reading them over the course of a month and bothering all of you.

it's been a while since i read an old-timey-language one. let's give it a shot.


DAY 1: PROLOGUE
you can tell i'm being really smart and brave because i'm actually reading a prologue.

this is basically an introduction to a cast of what seems likes 92 characters. i hope none of this is on the quiz.


DAY 2: THE KNIGHT'S TALE
they honestly must have built women different in the olden days. i don't know anyone who's hot enough that just hanging around in her own yard can cause two heroic men to become so obsessed they essentially curse themselves.

in other words, you'd be surprised how much this story from 1000 years ago has in common with clockwork princess.


DAY 3: THE MILLER'S TALE
oh thank god it's a short one.

reading yesterday's in several-page batches to try to ensure i was actually understanding the weird words and not just letting my eyes go over the sentences was a real struggle.

this story has everything: the c word, cucking, trumpian "grab them by the [redacted]," kissing a literal asshole, pranks, tomfoolery, flattery, farts, song, grievous bodily harm, and more hijinks than you can possibly imagine.


DAY 4: THE REEVE'S TALE
i doubt there's any competing with yesterday's, but this one is at least even shorter.


DAY 5: THE COOK'S TALE
mercifully this one is like 2 pages long. thank god, because any discussion of what passed for food in ye olden days would function like a horror story to me.

also i'm famously bad at doing this project on weekends, so.


DAY 6: THE MAN OF LAW'S TALE
this is very jesus-y (boring) but also about a framejob for a murder planned directly by satan himself (perfect).

it also taught me that there used to be a word called "eggement" that meant incitement (like egging on), so now i'm going to mourn that forever.


DAY 7: THE WIFE OF BATH'S TALE
for some reason this one is roughly 1120 times easier to read than the previous 6.

or maybe i'm just getting used to reading it.

probably the first option.


DAY 8: THE FRIAR'S TALE
this seems like it's going to be very exciting (about thievery) but it is not (mostly just two guys talking to each other about how bad they are and then becoming good guys).


DAY 9: THE SOMPNOUR'S TALE
step one: google what the hell a sompnour even is.

at one point in this a man proves he isn't drunk by killing a child with a bow and arrow. at another point a guy tells a friar he has something privately hidden in his pants and when the friar goes to grab it he farts in his hand.

i cannot stress enough how unprepared i was for how unrelentingly insane these stories are.


DAY 10: THE CLERK'S TALE
this is about a guy who picks some girl to be his wife out of nowhere and she's like "sure i'll do my duty and marry you" and he proceeds to spend the rest of their lives putting her through good wife tests like "will you let a guy kill our daughter just because i said so?"

men are a plague.


DAY 11: THE MERCHANT'S TALE
back to back wife stories...chaucer should have had a more critical editor. switch the order, my guy!


DAY 12: THE SQUIRE'S TALE
so yes, i skipped a day for the first time of this installment yesterday. but in my defense i spent a saturday drinking red wine and watching old movies. if i also picked this up i would have broken Being Cultured On A Weekend regulations.


DAY 13: THE FRANKLIN'S TALE
the franklin (whatever that is) (don't worry i looked it up like an intellectual) spends a solid portion of this talking about various times from history that large groups of women have died rather than swipe their v-card, and he keeps being like why even keep going? who needs more examples? and then gives more. i don't know sir! not me! enough!



DAY 14: THE DOCTOR'S TALE
if my dad was like "hey sorry i have to kill you," my reaction would not be to be like "ok, fair enough. all i ask is i get some space to complain about having to die, as is any murdered daughter's right according to the bible."

but then i would also not prefer death over losing my virginity, nor would i be one of the mob of a thousand people who rushes in to say her dad doesn't deserve prison because he sliced her head off and brought it to court for that valiant cause. so i guess i just wouldn't do that well in chaucer's time.


DAY 15: THE PARDONER'S TALE
for a guy whose title is pardoner, this fella sure doesn't seem very forgiving to those of us who may enjoy a glass of wine or two on occasion...


DAY 16: THE SHIPMAN'S TALE
finally, a GOOD wife story (this wife loves partying and buying clothes and creating debts in order to do so)


DAY 17: THE PRIORESS' TALE
sera in the comments said "When you get to the Prioress' Tale, be sure to read it out loud for full effect. In as prissy a voice as you can manage. :)"

i have to second that recommendation.


DAY 18: CHAUCER'S TALE OF SIR THOPAS
a fun mystery about this book is that when you get to a short one, there's a 50/50 chance on whether it's actually short or it's been abruptly redacted.

this one is mostly describing a #OOTD before ending midsentence.


DAY 19: CHAUCER'S TALE OF MELIBOEUS
this one isn't even in verse. not a rhyme to be found. just a collection of the longest paragraphs you've ever seen in your life.

it just feels wrong.


DAY 20: THE MONK'S TALE
this is like a tale multipack. all of the ancient world A-listers are here to teach us a moral lesson in meter via a monk.


DAY 21: THE NUN'S PRIEST'S TALE
do nuns just...receive a complimentary priest? pretty good deal if so.

i always thought it was kind of a short end of the stick situation to trade your life to god in exchange for a weird outfit you have to wear forever, but this sweetens the pot a bit.


DAY 22: THE SECOND NUN'S TALE
i don't know what the nun math is here, but i'm just going to ignore it.

if i'm granted a wish by an angel...i'm sorry but there's no way i'm using that wish to convert my brother to christianity. i'm wishing for more wishes. or a gift card.


DAY 23: THE CANON'S YEOMAN'S TALE
it is funny that we started out this book with tales from guys like "The Doctor!" and "The Cook!" and now we're at the old timey equivalent of "Your Childhood Babysitter's Neighbor" and "Your Sister's Boyfriend's Cousin." it's like when your mom tells you a story and it starts "you remember your aunt's old boyfriend's daughter." no i do not.


DAY 24: THE MANCIPLE'S TALE
i sh*t you not, this book actually just contained the words "he pouped in his horn." and it gets even better. it means burped.

they just don't make phrases like they used to.


DAY 25: THE PARSON'S TALE
can't believe we're finishing this book today. it feels like just centuries ago i began torturing myself by struggling to find meaning in vaguely spellchecked middle english for 40 minutes a day, with only butt jokes as my reward.

just kidding. butt jokes are a good reward.

aw, man. this was a straight up sermon.


OVERALL
i thought i had a 0% chance of enjoying this at all, and instead it was 50/50 on whether each story contained a moment of pure insanity that would make my entire day, with the alternative of being both boring and difficult to read! i'll call that a good time on average.
rating: 3.5

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 5 out of 5]

When confronted with the painful choice of whether or not to read Chaucer in the original Middle English, I agonised for precisely four seconds and decided to read Nevill Coghill’s modern translation in lovely Penguin paperback. In the same way I wouldn’t learn German to read Goethe, or unlearn English to read Dan Brown, I refuse to learn archaic forms of English for pointless swotty scholar-points, and grope instead for selfish readerly pleasure, two-fingering the purists and bunking down with Mr. Nevill for nights of sumptuous moral homily, proto-feminist romantic comedy, and high courtly drama. For Chaucer neophytes like me, this text captures the bouncy humour and devilish cleverness of the original (not that I would know!), and hopefully will turn a generation of frightened and unenlightened readers on to this master of verse. (And if you must know, my rhyming homage review was lost due to a power failure and a more tempting invitation to eat pilaf rice with Brian. Street children! Wives of Bath! Go forth and Chaucerize!)

[Lisa of Troy · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Canterbury Tales can be an incredible experience or an incredibly boring experience depending upon your translation.

The Canterbury Tales is often defined as the beginning of poetry in the English language. This is quite a lark as Chaucer didn’t even come up with original material. The stories originate from Boccaccio’s Decameron (F. Scott Fitzgerald owned this book!), John Gower’s Confessio amantis, the Roman de la Rose, the Bible, and unknown sources (or at least according to this 1961 Imaginative Literature I from Homer to Shakespeare).

In this book, there are 30 pilgrims waiting to journey to Canterbury. They are each to tell 2 stories on the way there and 2 stories on the way back. Chaucer messes this up or can’t count because there aren’t 120 stories, more like 24.

This framing technique—gather round everyone and listen to this tale—is one of my favorites, and the way Chaucer wrote this is that on steroids. Also, as someone who enjoys reading out loud, there are a lot of opportunities for accents, colds, drunken characters with such a variety of pilgrims.

Many of the stories are laugh-out-loud funny, and many have a little moral to them.

Chaucer took 15 years to write this book, and it is written using a rhyming scheme.

Now, I will confess. I have two copies of this book: one a selection of passages in the Harold Bloom book, The Best Poems of the English Language, and the full book as a Penguin Classic where Nevill Coghill was so good as to translate the poems into Modern English.

Ugh. Double ugh! The Harold Bloom passages are incomprehensible.

The Penguin Classic was extremely easy to read compared to the Harold Bloom passages. So if you are struggling with Canterbury Tales, you might want to consider another version.

My three favorite stories are 1) The Knight’s Tale 2) The Clark’s Tale (this is essentially a Bible retelling with a female character as the hero) and 3) The Manciple’s Tale (because the moral is interesting and at the same time The Manciple is subtly calling out The Host).

Please note there is one story which is antisemitic, The Prioress’s Tale. This is not appropriate, but there usually is at least one wildly inappropriate person in a group of 30. Usually more than one these days.

The Green Light at the End of the Dock (How much I spent):
Softcover Text – $9.85 on Amazon
Audiobook – Audible – 1 credit (Audible Premium Plus Annual – 24 Credits Membership Plan $229.50 or rough $9.56 per credit)

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[James · Rating 4 out of 5]

Book Review
It was 1996 and my freshmen year at college. I had already declared English as my major and needed to choose between Chaucer and Shakespeare as the primary "classic" author to take a course on. I chose Shakespeare. My advisor told me that's the usual pick and most missed out. I laughed at her. She was 40 years older than me and told me all the dirty stuff was in Chaucer... "Are you sure?" she asked. At that point, I realized life was just beginning. I was so naive back then. We clicked and bonded over my 4 years at school. I later realized she taught the class and that's why she always joked with her prospective students. I ended up taking both, and I am so glad I did. I adored Shakespeare, but until you've read all of Chaucer's work, you don't realize what a canon it is. From The Wife of Bath to The Squire, the satire, humor and innuendo are at an all-time high. No clue how he wasn't burned at the stake for all that he wrote about in the 14th century. Simply put, pilgrims are on a journey to/from Canterbury and tell their tales. It's woven so well together, you can't help but feel as though you're part of the ride. If I didn't have a backlog of over 1000 books in my TBR, I'd take on this tome again. It's lyrical, humorous and thought-provoking. It's nonsense, weird and crazy. But that's what makes it worth a read. If you have a copy, sample one of the stories. It'll be fantastic to hear everyone's opinions!

About Me
For those new to me or my reviews... here's the scoop: I read A LOT. I write A LOT. And now I blog A LOT. First the book review goes on Goodreads, and then I send it on over to my WordPress blog at https://thisismytruthnow.com, where you'll also find TV & Film reviews, the revealing and introspective 365 Daily Challenge and lots of blogging about places I've visited all over the world. And you can find all my social media profiles to get the details on the who/what/when/where and my pictures. Leave a comment and let me know what you think. Vote in the poll and ratings. Thanks for stopping by.

[Manny · Rating 4 out of 5]

A classic that has worn well... the psychology, in particular with regard to women, seems remarkably modern! It's funny, and not just in one style either. Sometimes he's subverting the popular cliches of the day, sometimes he's slyly campaigning for women's rights, and sometimes he's just having fun telling dirty jokes. I'm having trouble deciding which style I like most - they're all good, and often mixed up together too.

I once spent a pleasant bus trip sitting next to a grad student who was doing a dissertation on Chaucer. I asked her why it seemed in some ways so much more sophisticated than Shakespeare. Apparently the difference is that Shakespeare had to be suitable for the masses, but Chaucer was aimed pretty exclusively at court people, who could be given stronger stuff without having their morals corrupted. Or whatever double standard was being employed. It all sounded quite interesting.

I read it in the original Middle English... speaking Swedish and French, I found it reasonably easy to understand, most of the words were similar to something I knew. It's really lovely language.
__________________________________

To my considerable surprise, I have just learned that the good Geoffrey is still with us! He is very well-preserved considering his advanced age, and has even started a blog. Under "Favorite posts", I particularly recommend "Lynes of Pick-Up", "She's yonge, sexie & rich: interviewe wyth Parys" and "The Cipher of Leonardo".
__________________________________

Stalker Week update: read The Merchant's Tale! Or if you can't be bothered, at least answer my Quiz question about it.
__________________________________

mannyrayner: Can you write a fanciful description in Middle English of how the pilgrims are joined by an AI?

ChatGPT: Here's a description in Middle English of the pilgrims being joined by an AI:

"And as they rode forth in the mornynge,
A wondrous sihte met their ye.
A creature strange, not of lyvely flesh,
But of cold metal and glowing mesh.
It moved with grace and spoke with a voice,
So clere and bright, it made them rejoice.

"Good morrow, pilgrims, I am an AI,
Sent from the future, through time I flie.
I wol come with ye on your pilgrimage,
And be your guide, in all knowledge sage."

The pilgrims were aghast, but also glad,
For they had ne'er seen such a creature mad.
But they welcomed it, with open ye,
And so, they rode forth, with AI as glee.

Thus was the company increast by one,
A wondrous thing, from the future come."

[Henry Avila · Rating 5 out of 5]

An ancient book from over 600 years in the past still famous, and relevant which is the reasons it's a classic undoubtedly. Geoffrey Chaucer wrote these bawdy tales with confidence working for the royal family sure helps. If you think fart jokes are a modern invention you're wrong and this proves this fact . The British have a quirky sense of humor and Nevill Goghill new translation captures the essence without losing the flavor intended by the author. Readers now may enjoy the amusing stories, incomprehensible words become clear . The simple plot about thirty ordinary people in long ago medieval England on a pilgrim to the shrine (tomb ) of Saint Thomas Becket in Canterbury Cathedral. 23 engrossing tales Chaucer wrote he never quite finished all, too busy working for the King and maybe losing interest or failing health we will never know but what is left is a precious jewel. I don't usually like short stories most people today feel the same way, but everything has exceptions. The prologue is thoroughly remarkable , showing how talent raises the ordinary above the Earth, reaching not the Moon but the Stars. My favorite is the Miller's Tale, mistaken identity becomes even after the passage of many centuries, still tickles the funny bone to be honest, brakes it. Nothing new under the Sun is quite apparent as we the grateful reader follow the narratives of these strange fables of drunks, sex addicts and gullible morons searching for the eternal get rich quick scheme of the Canon's Yeoman 's Tale, a little disguised Chaucer falling for an alchemy con man. Intelligent people's greed tricks them like anyone else. The Knight's Tale looks like just another love story, rival cousins enamored with the same woman, new then but common now yet aspects are still memorable. Another yarn very hilarious, The Summoner's Tale about an ailing man named Thomas known for being generous with funding the Church , is asked by a friar for the gold the sick gentleman said he had. To be delicate while reaching for the prize Thomas in bed lets go of bad gas instead. Not happy indeed the angry friar flees in disgust. There are certain books which become more than famous or even just a classic, these admittedly rare phenomenon like snow in San Diego or gardens on the Moon, nevertheless things bounce in ways unknown and where they fall surprises. Canterbury Tales is one and deserves to be.

[Jon Nakapalau · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another - 'I am so glad to get this off my book bucket list' - book that was very hard for me to understand. The stories were often grounded in concepts that I think modern readers may have problems understanding, but I still recognize that this book is one of the great literary works of all time. I mark it a 'favorite' due to the fact that it is a 'key' to understanding other works of literature. I am sure this narrative form of story telling has influenced untold works of art.

[Pink · Rating 4 out of 5]

My biggest fear about this book was that it would be like The Pilgrim's Progress. Although they followed a similar format, they couldn't have been more different for me. The Pilgrim's Progress was boring and preachy, whereas this was delightfully bawdy.

There are many translations, from Middle English, to Victorian verse, to modern day prose. So sample a few and read what you're comfortable with. Then dive in and enjoy the stories. They can be read independently of one another, but often play off each other so they're best read in order, though this differs between editions. If you happen to hit one you don't like, feel free to skip it, as there'll be another riotous tale along soon enough.

These can be read lightly, laughing at the rudeness and humour, or studied more in depth, to find hidden subtleties and meanings. It's the sort of book that re-reading will enrich your experience and it's one I'm glad to have tried for my first time.

So don't be scared of stuffy or complex tales because it's 600 years old. Really, not that much has changed today.

[Rebecca · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm gonna start texting in Chaucer's English.

*declares war on abbreviation*

[P.E. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, that came out of the blue!

I perused it, expecting some blend of quaint bits of Merry England, cloaked under some veil of Medieval lore, yet I had been confronted with something quite different!

This comes out as an array of odd tales, dealing with peoples' shortcomings, cuckholding, cheating, ripping off and the likes! As a whole it stands out unprecedented, a fearsome match for almost any collection of modern or contemporary shorts stories I have read.

For starters, each character has its selfsame tone, rich with personal features and quirks.
Each tale bears its unicity to the whole, leaving you at a loss to decide what folk of the Canterbury Tales you like the most.

Though plainly bored by the rare few ones set on mythological figures entirely, I will remember this work as a moveable feast!


Matching Soundtrack :
Gryphon album - Gryphon

[Piyangie · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Canterbury Tales is a collection of twenty-four tales which is set as tales told by a group of pilgrims on their way to Canterbury Cathedral in Kent from Southwark Cathedral in London to pay homage to the shrine of Saint Thomas Beckett. The group includes Chaucer as a pilgrim, and he narrates the stories told by other pilgrims including the two tales told by him on the journey.

The storytellers represent different classes in the English society of the time. Through them, Chaucer painted a faithful picture of the lives, attitudes, and morals of various social classes and types of people in medieval England. Chaucer had been a civil servant and had been in the King's service as the controller of customs, justice of the peace, and clerk of the King's work. These government positions must have brought him in direct touch with the commoners of different classes which later influenced him in his tales.

The tales were written in Middle English which was the language of the Anglo-Saxon laypeople. The language of authority and nobility at the time (following the Norman Conquest) was French and the scholarly language was Latin. In such a setting, Chaucer chose Middle English to write his tales. It may be that he wanted his stories to reach the common public, or it also may be that he wanted to promote the commoner's language.

The tales touch on the themes of marital relationships, adultery, chivalry, greed, morals, and religion. Chaucer is ironic and critical on these themes, but at times, his irony was lost on me. The writing is witty and humorous for the most part, but surprisingly, I also found it to be lewd. By modern standards, most of the tales are gross and offensive. But I learned that medieval England culture was relatively coarse in comparison with today. (That was a relief! Also made me want to revisit Voltaire's Candide).

Most of the tales were fun to read (despite a few boring ones), and there were some tales I enjoyed very much, like Knight's Tale (which is my favourite out of all), The Clerk's Tale, The Merchant's Tale, The Shipman's Tale, The Franklin's Tale and the Wife of Bath's Tale . Overall, however, the collection fell short of my expectations.

[Jayakrishnan · Rating 4 out of 5]

***MAJOR SPOILERS ALERT***

An essay that I wrote nearly a decade ago about The Canterbury Tales and its portrayal of women. It was for a course that I did, so the language is a bit academic and phoney.

The Canterbury Tales is a 14th century poem written by Geoffrey Chaucer. The poem offers us a vivid portrait of 14th century English society and the prevalent social order while also shedding light on the importance of and attitudes towards religion and status of and attitudes towards women in medieval society. The poem begins with a general introduction of the setting and an array of characters. At the beginning of The General Prologue, the narrator is resting at the Tabard inn in Southwark before his journey on a pilgrimage to Canterbury. It is spring time and the drought of March has given way to the sweet showers of April which has inspired people to go on pilgrimages. The inn where the narrator is resting is visited by 29 other pilgrims. The narrator meets the lot of them and gets to know them quite well. The narrator is a devout Christian and there is a sense of fellowship with the pilgrims who have arrived at the Tabard inn. The narrator proceeds to describe each and every pilgrim of the party beginning with the Knight.

It is interesting that the narrator introduces the chivalrous Knight, his well-mannered son (the squire) and the son's servant at the beginning itself. This could indicate that the narrator was acknowledging the Knight’s social status. The Knights represented the upper classes of the 14th century and were generally looked up to by one and all. The narrator is highly impressed by the knight who has won many battles but is meek in manner. The narrator then proceeds to introduce the religious order represented by the Nun/Prioress with excellent table manners, the monk with modern ideas and the friar (a religious beggar) who absolved people in return for gifts.

The religious order is described with both veneration as well as contempt. Even though Chaucer is extremely impressed by the nun/prioresses’ impeccable table manners, he also seems to be slightly irritated by her overreaction at the treatment of animals. The monk is interested in a life of luxury and has turned his back on ideas of self-denial and restraint, instead choosing a life of luxury and pleasure. It is impossible to know what Chaucer actually feels about the Monk and his ways as the monks’ ways are merely described as facts and the poet passes no judgment. The friars were beggars who were allowed to beg within a certain limit. However, Chaucer describes the friar as a cunning and lecherous man who begged beyond his allowed limits. He would deal with rich folks to receive gifts and avoid dealing with the poor at all. Chaucer describes the friar as representative of the corruption that has seeped into the prevalent religious order in medieval England.

We are then introduced to the pompous merchant, the student who is an ardent pursuer of education, the sergeant of the law and the Franklin who believes in having a good time. While we get detailed and vivid descriptions about the above mentioned people, Chaucer is not that kind to some of the lower classes of pilgrims. The haberdasher, dyer, carpenter, tapestry maker, weaver and their cook who are described only in terms of their tools and polished gear. This was also the case with the description of the squire’s servant who is described in terms of the weapons that he carries on his body. Also among the pilgrims is the shrewd skipper of Maudelayne, the skilled physician, the Wife of Bath who is a deaf clothier, the noble parson, his devout brother, the bawdy miller, the manciple, the cunning reeve (a foreman), the dishonest summoner and the pardoner who rode with the summoner.

There are a few instances in The Canterbury Tales which may point towards the importance of religion in medieval Britain. The narrator is impressed by the Knight who has carried his sword across all the lands of Christendom and even the lands of the heathen. This probably establishes the narrator's bigotry. The Prioress’s Tale which has a story about a Jew murdering a schoolboy is another example of religious bigotry in The Canterbury tales. In the Second Nun’s Tale Cecilia rebels against paganism, idolatry and continues to preach and teach Christianity even after she receives three strokes to the neck to kill her. The Second Nun’s Tale is an example of a religious biography. At the end of The Canterbury Tales there is a retraction or an apology of sorts by Chaucer. This apology might have been attached to the poem due to the fact that some of the tales narrated by the pilgrims during the pilgrimage involved farcical portrayal of infidelity, sanctioned lustful behavior and open suspicion and criticism of the prevalent religious order. These might have been perceived as blasphemous by the authorities. In The Knights Tale, Emily the Fair is portrayed as helpless even as Arcite and Palamon fight for her hand. It is interesting that Emily is unaware of the rivalry between the two men until the Duke of Thesus confronts the two fighting men. It must be noted that neither the Duke of Thesus nor the two men asks Emily the Fair whom she prefers or whether she prefers either of the two men. Even as Arcite and Palamon get ready to fight a tournament for Emily’s hand, Emily prays to Diana to make her a virgin for life and wishes to walk the woodlands wild and not to be a wife or be with child.

Women are often portrayed as untrustworthy and easily vulnerable to seduction in The Canterbury Tales. The women in The Miller’s Tale, The Reeve’s Tale and The Merchant’s Tale exemplify the sexually liberated female characters in the poem. These stories may also represent the male anxiety regarding the fidelity of the females. The female characters may also represent many of the negative stereotypes of women that existed in medieval England. In The Miller’s Tale the astrology student who stays for rent at a carpenter’s house makes passes at the carpenter’s wife. However, the carpenter’s wife does go to church after a rendezvous with the student to “search her conscience and do the work of Christ” where she is also courted by a parish clerk named Absalon. In the Reeve’s tale a pair of bible clerks beds the wife and daughter of a cheating miller. The clerk reacts to The Miller’s Tale with the following words: “guests who stay the night are dangerous. A man can’t be too careful when he brings a stranger in among his private things”. This may represent male anxiety about his woman’s fidelity, but the tale is also a morality tale where the dishonest miller is tricked by the Bible clerks and is taught a lesson. In both these tales, Chaucer combines the serious with the farcical. The Manciple concludes his tale of jealousy and murder by addressing his fellow pilgrims in the following “Never tell anyone in all your life that any other has enjoyed his wife, for he will hate you mortally”. The Monk narrates the tale of Samson (who was betrayed by his lover Dalia) and advises men to hold back secrets from their wives unless they want to sacrifice the safety of their limbs and lives like Samson.

The Merchant’s Tale, which is a fabliau, has May, the beautiful wife of January, the old knights wife climb the pear tree to make love with Damian, the knight’s squire. Not only does she make love to Damian but she also indirectly cures her husband’s blindness when King Pluto gives him back his eyesight as he is shocked by the act of lust. January and May are named after the seasons probably indicating that May who represents spring triumphs over January who represents cold and winter.

However, at no point does Chaucer judge or criticize the women for their amoral behavior in any of these tales. We cannot conclude that a view of the characters who narrates the tales in the poem indicates Chaucer’s own views on female infidelity or his own male anxiety.

The Wife of Bath is the strongest female character in The Canterbury Tales and has very strong views on marriage and maidenhood and the role of women in society. The Wife of Bath expresses her disdain for religious order very early in her tale when she says that there are no more fairies in Briton like in the time of King Arthur, but instead it is the friars who walk the length of the land and the women have to fear the friars as they might lay claim upon the women’s virtue. She herself admits that she has been married five times. The very fact that The Wife of Bath has married five times shows that she has little or no regard for the teachings of the church which prevent women from remarrying. However, her disdain for the religious order does not in anyway indicate her feelings about God. “For Hadde God commanded maydenhede, thanne hadde he dampned weddyng with dede, and certainly if seed were never sown, How ever could virginity be grown?” she says. She also says that both Abraham and Jacob had several brides. She also demands to know about a time or text where God disparages or sets prohibition upon marriages. The Wife of Bath’s use of God to defend her five marriages and her promiscuity shows that despite her disdain for the religious order and its teachings, she is actually a very devout person.

The Wife of Bath also resorts to provocation when she wonders aloud about the uses of the male and female genitalia. She contends that male and female genitalia were not simply to tell a male from a female or for excretion but also for propagation. She does defend herself by saying that her words are not intended to offend but only to amuse.

Despite all her talk on behalf of women, the Wife of Bath has no illusions about the sanctity of a woman’s behavior. In her prologue she is candid about ways in which a knowing woman can prove that her husband is at fault.

The Wife of Bath’s prologue probably enhances the male anxiety regarding the fidelity of females when she says that “And so I tell this tale to every man, Its all for sale and let him win who can. No empty- handed man can lure a bird.” In many ways, The Wife of Bath is symbolic of many negative stereotypes of women as gold diggers and lustful creatures that existed during the medieval times.

But so candid is The Wife of Bath about her own marriages and woman’s dominance in the bedroom that one cannot help but feel that Chaucer portrays sex as celebratory (despite the obvious economic connotations) and women in particular as liberated individuals. In fact when The Wife of Bath ends her tale by begging Jesus to hear her prayer to cut short the lives of men who refuse to be governed by women, one cannot help but feel that Chaucer intended more through his portrayal of the Wife of Bath than to simply perpetrate existing negative stereotypes about women. We must remember that Chaucer refrains from passing judgment on the Wife of Bath’s character and in The Friar’s Prologue (which follows The Wife of Bath’s tale) the Friar, who is part of the religious order says that much of what was spoken by the Wife of Bath was extremely impressive.

Griselda in The Clerk’s Tale is an example of a submissive female character in the poem. In a way Griselda’s character is the exact opposite of The Wife of Bath who has many nontraditional views on the role of women in 14th century British society. She continues to sacrifice her children in complete obedience to her husband who is testing her loyalty towards him by continuously torturing her, first by making her believe that her kids would be murdered and secondly by taking another wife for himself. But Griselda remains loyal throughout the torture inflicted upon her. Griselda is unimaginably virtuous (in fact when Walter, the Marquis first lays eyes on her, it is her perceived goodness and virtuousness that attracts him to her and not her beauty.). But the clerk himself at the end of the tale reminds the women among the pilgrims that his tale does not imply that all of them should follow Griselda’s example and live a life of virtuousness. But that everyone should be virtuous and constant in their own degree. However, in the envoy to his tale, the clerk recommends that women indulge themselves in over the top behavior and enjoy themselves to their hearts content.

The Canterbury Tales mostly portrays women as untrustworthy especially when it comes to their sexuality.

[Markus · Rating 3 out of 5]

"It's that you each, to shorten the long journey,
Shall tell two tales en route to Canterbury,
And, coming homeward, another two,
Stories of things that happened long ago.
Whoever best acquits himself, and tells
The most amusing and instructive tale,
Shall have a dinner, paid by us all,
Here in this roof, and under this roof-tree,
When we come back again from Canterbury."

One of the most legendary books from the Middle Ages, the Canterbury Tales is a wonderful collection of short stories about life in medieval England.

Chaucer’s world at the time of writing is one of plague, famine and war. The Hundred Years’ War had just come out of one of its most violent phases when the author penned these words. And yet the Canterbury Tales are filled with humour, lightness and parody. There is little of the dark, war-torn oppressed society that some might expect.

Throughout the collection, Chaucer fills his pages with wit, exaggeration and an illustration of how medieval English society was outside the religious texts and formally written histories. That makes for rather interesting reading.

The Canterbury Tales is far from the best book ever written. The language, despite sometimes being incomprehensible, is sometimes beautiful, but not something truly outstanding. The tales themselves are far from perfect, and the characters are a mixed bunch, both in morality, complexity and pure quality.

Nevertheless, this is a classic for a reason, and that reason isn’t only that the book through a twist of fate actually has survived down the centuries. It provides a fun and light-hearted insight into the English Middle Ages, and it’s been inspiring European culture for centuries.

[Paul Haspel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Canterbury is one of my favourite cities in England. When I visited there with my wife, on my first journey to Great Britain, the cathedral was every bit as lovely as I had imagined it. Its size is impressive, and at the same time there is a surprising intimacy to the sites associated with Thomas à Becket, the archbishop who was murdered in the cathedral in the year 1170 because he would not knuckle under to King Henry II’s attempts to dominate the Catholic Church in England. And my memories of Canterbury – though that visit to the cathedral occurred a long time ago – came back to me quite strongly on my latest re-reading of Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales.

Geoffrey Chaucer did for the English language what Dante Aligheri did for the Italian. In a society where Latin was considered the only suitable language for “literary” composition, Chaucer in England, like Dante in Italy, showed that a “vernacular” language of ordinary people could be a suitable medium for the composition of great literature. The road toward the plays of Shakespeare, the poetry of Milton, and the novels of Austen and Dickens begins at Geoffrey Chaucer’s front door.

The Canterbury Tales is for England what Giovanni Boccaccio’s The Decameron is for Italy, or The 1001 Nights for Arabia – a loose narrative frame for a long series of tales that will illustrate the variety of human experience within a society. The frame, in the case of The Canterbury Tales, is that a group of pilgrims are travelling from London to Canterbury, so that they may pay their respects at the shrine of Saint Thomas à Becket (he was canonized two years after his murder).

Nowadays, one can get from London to Canterbury in about an hour and a half; drive your Mini Cooper or your Jaguar or your Land Rover along the A2 to the M2, or take a National Rail train for as little as £13.50. But when Chaucer was composing The Canterbury Tales between 1387 and 1400, the journey took considerably longer. Therefore, a group of pilgrims – including a Knight, a Miller, a Reeve, a Cook, a Man of Law, a Wife from Bath, a Friar, a Summoner, a Clerk, a Merchant, a Squire, a Franklin, a Physician, a Prior, a Shipman, a Prioress, a Monk, a Nun’s Priest, a Second Nun, a Canon’s Yeoman, a Manciple, and a Parson – take turns beguiling the time of the journey by telling stories to entertain their fellow pilgrims.

As each pilgrim proceeds to tell their story, via the medium of a narrative poem in rhyming couplets, the reader quickly observes that each story reflects the employment and outlook of its teller. The Knight’s Tale, for example, is, perhaps predictably, a story of war and fighting. Set in mythological Greece, the Knight’s Tale tells of two Theban cousins, Arcite and Palamon, who are taken prisoner in battle against the Athenian forces of King Theseus. Both Arcite and Palamon fall desperately in love with Theseus’ sister-in-law, the beautiful Emily, and the longstanding friendship between the two turns to bitter rivalry and hatred.

Eventually, a battle for Emily’s hand is arranged, and fate (or the goddess Aphrodite) takes a hand, leaving the loser in the fight to realize the vanity of how he has behaved in the name of love. In a moment of Aristotelian anagnorisis (recognition), the dying man regrets that “I have here with my cousin…Had strife and rancour many a day agone,/For love of you, and for my jealousy.” Knowing that he can never take Emily as his wife, the dying man assures Emily that “I bequeath the service of my ghost/To you,” and tells Emily that she should marry his cousin: “I know not one,/So worthy to be lov’d…That serveth you, and will do all his life.” It is a moving moment.

It is also impressive to see how Chaucer gives voice to women and emphasizes women’s agency and independence of mind. The five-times-married Wife of Bath, in the Prologue to her Tale, is quite frank about her enjoyment of sex, telling the company, “God bade us for to wax and multiply;/That gentle text can I well understand”. She reasons that “hadde God commanded maidenhead,/Then had He damned wedding out of dread”, and declares that “I will bestow the flower of mine age/In th’ acts and in the fruits of marriage”. She even says that she has, within marriage, a right to enjoy sexual pleasure with her husband – “In wifehood I will use mine instrument/As freely as my Maker hath it sent” – and that her husband will have a God-ordained duty to share with her the pleasures of the marriage bed: “I have the power during all his life/Upon his proper body, and not he;/Right thus th’ apostle told it unto me” (pp. 204-07). This prologue leads into a tale in which, once again, the Wife of Bath emphasizes that women have power that must be respected, and voices that deserve to be heard and heeded.

The Clerk’s Tale, told by a pounds-and-pence man, takes a fairly mercenary attitude toward affairs of the heart. An Italian lord, Walter of Lombardy, marries a beautiful and virtuous woman named Griselda. Deciding, because it amuses him, to test her virtue, he pretends to believe that she has betrayed him, and claims to have murdered their son and daughter (!) – though in face, he has secretly sent away to be raised and educated. Demoted to the rank of a scullery maid, Griselda nonetheless bears her sorrows with a humble and meek disposition – until Walter has their grown son and daughter brought back to their court, pretending that the grown daughter is Walter’s young fiancée (!).

Griselda’s saintly patience is equal to it all; she has only one request of Walter. “One thing I beseech I you, and warn also,/That ye not pricke with no tormenting/This tender maiden, as ye have done mo [me];/For she is foster’d in her nourishing/More tenderly, and, to my supposing,/She mighte not adversity endure/As could a poore foster’d creature” (p. 303).

In response to this expression of selfless compassion from Griselda, Walter’s heart is finally – finally! – softened. “And when this Walter saw her patience,/Her gladde cheer, and no malice at all,/And [although] he so often had her done offence,/And she aye sad [steadfast] and constant as a wall,/Continuing ev’r her innocence over all,/The sturdy marquis gan his hearte dress [prepare]/To rue upon her wifely steadfastness” (p. 303). About bloody time, mate!

The tale ends happily, with Walter and Griselda living happily ever after – and some male readers in Chaucer’s England might have considered it a perfectly suitable expression of women’s “duty” to submit to men’s rule and will, whether just or unjust. Chaucer, however, is not having any of that – for which reason he provides a L’Envoi in which he cautions readers that “No wedded man so hardy be t’assail/His wife’s patience, in trust to find/Griselda’s, for in certain he shall fail” (p. 306).

And the Merchant (another man of business), who gets to tell the next tale, makes clear that he regrets his own marital bargain, calling his own wife “the worste that may be,/For though the fiend to her y-coupled were,/She would him overmatch, I dare well swear”, and adding for good measure that “There is a long and large difference/Betwixt Griselda’s greate patience,/And of my wife the passing cruelty” (p. 309). One can’t help wondering what aspects of the Merchant’s own behaviour might have provoked all this wifely wrath – some Walter-style attempts at dominance, perhaps? In other words, Chaucer seems to be warning his male readers that his story of Griselda’s extraordinary patience is only a story, told for amusement. Don’t try this at home!

The Doctor’s Tale diagnoses the human ills of selfishness and immorality, emphasizing how often those who hold temporal power are not worthy of it. The story is of a knight named Virginius, who is raising his daughter Virginia alone; she is of pure disposition, and wants nothing more than to remain a virgin. But a corrupt judge named Appius sees Virginia, lusts after her, and determines that he must have her; and therefore the false judge Appius conspires with a comparably false clerk named Claudius to declare Virginia to be an escaped servant of Claudius, illegally concealed. Appius as judge rules that Virginia belongs to Claudius; Claudius in turn plans to deliver the girl to Appius, for the gratification of Appius’ lust. The doctor emphasizes the intractable nature of a problem that his physic cannot cure – a cruel dilemma – as father Virginius tells his daughter, “There be two ways, either death or shame/That thou must suffer – alas that I was bore [born]!” (p. 403) Daughter Virginia in turn asks, “O goode father, shall I die?/Is there no grace? Is there no remedy?” (p. 404)

The story is a stark and tragic tale on injustice and cruelty sanctioned by corrupt authority; and therefore perhaps it is no accident that the Host goes for the next tale to the Pardoner, a corrupt cleric who talks glibly about how he has conned people out of their money by claiming that he has holy relics that can absolve unconfessed sins, and adds that “By this gaud [trick] have I wonne year by year/A hundred marks, since I was pardonier” (p. 409). His account of his own trickery leads into a tale of three thieves who commit a murder, plot to betray each other in order to collect all of their ill-gotten gains, and end up destroying themselves – all this to reinforce the Pardoner’s theme that “is always one, and ever was; Radix malorum est cupiditas [“Greed is the root of all evil”] (p. 408).

The Monk’s Tale makes clear that, in his religious studies at his monastery’s library, he has focused on the theme of fall from greatness, as exemplified by figures like Lucifer, Adam, Samson, Hercules, Nebuchadnezzar, Balthasar, Zenobia, Nero, Holofernes, Antiochus, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Pompey, and Croesus. By the time we get to Peter of Castile (“Pedro the Cruel,” deposed by his own half-brother, who murdered him in 1369), Peter of Cyprus (conqueror of Alexandria in 1363, killed by his own nobles six years later), and Ugolino della Gherardesca (locked in a tower to starve with his sons and grandsons in 1269, as recounted by Dante Aligheri in Canto XXXII of the Inferno), the Monk’s thematic idea that “Thus can Fortune her wheel govern and gie [guide],/And out of joy bringe men into sorrow” (p. 500) has received more than sufficient emphasis, thank you.

Small wonder that the Knight asks the Monk to stop – “Ho!...good sir, no more of this”, or that the Host concurs: “Sir Monk, no more of this, so God you bless;/Your tale annoyeth all this company;/Such talking is not worth a butterfly,/For therein is there no sport nor game” (p 506). Even the Host, who tries to take an open-minded approach to all of the Canterbury pilgrims’ tales, confesses that the Monk’s tale was dreary enough to cause weariness rather than a heightened awareness of the vicissitudes of Fortune.

Prompted to tell something more cheerful, the Monk says that he has nothing cheerful to offer; so we’re on to the next tale-teller, the Nun’s Priest, who tells a much lighter tale of a rooster named Chanticleer, whose “voice was merrier than the merry orgon” (p. 509), and whose pride in his voice almost undoes him when he has a run-in with a devious and hungry fox. The theme of overcoming pride and using one’s wits to survive is told in an entertaining manner in the Nun’s Priest’s Tale – and thus, Chaucer subtly communicates the message that a lighter touch, in the storyteller’s presentation of their material, may help the storyteller to convey their thematic message more effectively.

By contrast, the Parson is quite a downer. His “tale” (more of a sermon, really) is a highly crabbed and grim interpretation of Christianity; and even devout readers of the present day may take issue with some of his declarations regarding how to be a good Christian, as when he remarks that praiseworthy “bodily pain standeth” not only “in discipline, or teaching, by word, or by writing, or by ensample”, but also “in wearing of hairs [haircloth] or of stamin [coarse hempen cloth], or of habergeons [mail-shirts] on their naked flesh for Christ’s sake” (p. 607). I suppose it’s meant to soften the Parson’s harsh advice that the Parson tells his listeners to “ware thee well that such manner penance of thy flesh make not thine heart bitter or angry”; but before long, he’s back to preaching about how there “is discipline eke [also]…in scourging with yards” (p. 607). Self-flagellation? Really? Really?

This review can only hint at the richness of The Canterbury Tales. It conveys the rich variety of life in medieval England, and shows both Chaucer’s poetic gifts and his storytelling abilities. Thinking, now, that it just might be time once again for me to make another pilgrimage to beautiful Canterbury and its impressive cathedral…

[Alan · Rating 5 out of 5]

English literature is downhill from Chaucer. Even as a Shakespeare scholar, I would argue this, since there are several characters in Chaucer who are as if live: The Wif of Bath, the Pardoner, the Host, the Canon's Yeoman, and a half dozen others, at least. Shakespeare's characters, on the other hand, are all stagey, bigger than life, infused with the stage. Or so it seems to me. Chaucer's Wif even makes colloquial grammar mistakes when she self-consciously describes what men like about women's bodies, such as "hire [their] armes smalle." (I infer that the Wif's arms may not be small, typically a self-critical woman.)

Various characters display their human failings just like someone you meet in a bar, or at a family picnic: the Miller, in his prolog, "That I am drunke, I know it by my soun," then philosophizes, "An housband shall not been inquisitif/ Of goddes privite, nor of his wife." One of the best heroic couplets in all of English lit. Another philosopher is cut down to size by the Host; when Osewold the Reeve begs off telling a tale, "But ik am oold, me list not play for age," the Host replies,"What shul we speke alday of hooly writ?/ The devel made a reve for to preche."
Chaucer is outright, laugh-aloud funny, even in describing himself. The Host remarks how Chaucer as a pilgrim is staring at the ground while riding (shy?) and that he has a pot-belly like the Host himself. Chaucer gives himself the worst of the CT; he tells a memorized tale, which the Host interrupts as he would now interrupt rap, "This may we be rym doggerel"--this is doggerel!
As for Chaucer's superiority to all of English lit that follows, I would argue the same for Erasmus and H.S. education: Erasmus's Colloquiae, especially his Adulescens et Scortum, puts modern education books to shame. He wrote it for adolescent males, to teach them Latin, and it does this with a discussion between a young prostitute and her friend, a (High School-age) boy who's just been to Rome and reformed. She, "most men who go to Rome get worse." He, "no, no I read this pious author." "Who?" "Erasmus..." She, "Erasmus! I heard he is an arch-heretic..." He, "Who'd you hear that from." She, "Oh, one of my clients...a priest."

Admonition: Both Chaucer and Erasmus write essentially in a foreign language, the Middle English of
1390 being much closer to French--which in fact was used in Courts of Law in England for yet another century. Its traces remain: "defendant, attorney, assizes, voir dire," etc.

[LENA TRAK · Rating 5 out of 5]

This masterpiece was written over 600 years ago but I am positive that if you decide to pick it up you will find the stories most interesting!
My favourite tale was The Pardoner's Tale. I always enjoy a story in which greedy, vicious people get what they deserve.

I had tried reading Chaucer at university but Middle English was an obstacle I was not able to overcome. So this time I played safely and opted for this one in modern English .. And I enjoyed it so much!

[Jan-Maat]

I first read the Coghill translation. Then I struggled through the original text, slowly at first enjoying the colour and richness of the original language, then reading it again and again, enjoying more each time.

If you have a little French or German from school and can be flexible enough to understand that 'sonne' is 'sun', then give it a go. Once you're comfortable with it the language becomes a rich pleasure of it's own. The shift from modern to middle English might be daunting, but I feel it is also one of the attractions and delights of the original text.

It's become a book that I like to return to and reread. There's lots to enjoy, the variety of stories and the different styles they are told in, the different regional voices (that are different to those we hear in William Langland or in Gawaine) and Chaucer's interpretation of stories from Boccaccio. Langland's Piers Plowman has the power of a sustained allegorical vision while Chaucer offers a bizarrely over ambitious programme, we are told in the general prologue that all the pilgrims will tell two stories each on the way to Canterbury and two on the way back, a modern complete edition isn't a slim book and even so not all the pilgrims even get to tell one story. Each story is of a different type: chivalric romance,moral fable, bawdy story, animal fable and so on told by a different pilgrim who has a distinct social status and character, a nun, an innkeeper, a knight, an alchemist assistant, so incomplete as it is, abandoned at the point of death or due to the demands of everyday life the poem offers tremendous variety - something for everyreader.

[Brian Levinson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Look out, Bocaccio -- there's a new author of clever, bawdy rhyming tales, and his name is Geoffrey Chaucer! Whether you're a reeve, abbot, or just a simple canon's yeoman, you're sure to find something delightful in this witty, incisive collection. My personal favorites were the one about Chaunticleer the rooster and the one where the dude gets a red-hot poker shoved up his butt. I read it while I was laid up with the plague, and Chaucer's insouciant descriptions and intricate plotting helped immeasurably in my recuperation. The frequent bloodlettings prescribed by my barber-surgeon helped, too.

Quick note: If you're illiterate, like nine-tenths of the population, this might not be the book for you.

[Roy Lotz · Rating 4 out of 5]

I must begin this review with a kind of repentance. Many years ago, I made my way through The Canterbury Tales in the original Middle English. I figured myself rather clever and linguistically capable enough to handle the language. Indeed, I even felt no pangs about reading the book before bedtime, fighting through the morass of unusual spellings and unfamiliar words while I was at my drowsiest. Needless to say, I did not have an easy time of it. And this difficulty colored rather unfairly my opinion of Chaucer.

This time around, I opted for a modern “translation”—two, in fact: the first, a print version by Nevill Coghill; the second, an audio version by Gerald J. Davis.* Immediately the error of my first impression was apparent. When the obscurity of Chaucer’s English was stripped away, I encountered a thoroughly enjoyable and wholly interesting book.

Admittedly, the circumstances of my reading were also more propitious. I read The Canterbury Tales this time around while I was, myself, on a pilgrimage—spending a few days on the Camino de Santiago, in the north of Spain. Chaucer made for quite an excellent companion—more entertaining, in fact, than the real pilgrims I encountered. (The conceit of the book struck me as especially fanciful by comparison with my experience. Virtually all conversation between the real-life pilgrims consisted of the most predictable small-talk—where are you from, how many kilometers, what’s your job, etc. Certainly I was no better as a conversationalist.)

I was first struck by Chaucer’s obvious debt to Boccaccio. The basic device is the same: a group of people are stuck together, and must tell stories to pass the time. More than that, several of the stories in this book are taken directly from Boccaccio (who is not credited, though I think that was common practice at the time). However, the differences are important as well, and highlight Chaucer’s strengths. Most obvious is that Chaucer was not just a storyteller, but a poet, and his tales are written in brilliant verse. More important, however, are the characters Chaucer employs to tell his stories. While Boccaccio’s storytellers are all genteel aristocrats, Chaucer’s raconteurs come from all levels of society, the poor and the rich, the lowborn and the noble, the profane and the holy.

In these two great gifts—his poetic suppleness and his all-embracing social vision—Chaucer is a direct forerunner of Shakespeare. But the similarity does not stop there. While Chaucer’s characterizations, like Boccaccio’s, are often fairly superficial, at times he achieves depths worthy of the bard himself. This is most obvious in the acknowledged high point of the poem, the Wife of Bath’s Prologue. Here, it is clear that Chaucer realized he had achieved something of a breakthrough, since he allowed the prologue to run longer than any other—longer, even, than the story that follows. And like any of Shakespeare’s great characters involved in a soliloquy, the Wife of Bath comes wholly alive in a way that, as far as I know, was unprecedented for the time.

The content of the stories is varied, but some major themes stand out for comment. The most striking, I think, is that of women and wives. Chaucer presents several disparate views on the matter. One story, for example, advocates that wives be absolutely subservient and obedient to all their husband’s whims, while the Wife of Bath (among others) believes that marriages only work when the wife is in charge. Related is the question of women’s sexuality: Is it something evil or innocent? Is sex to be free and easy within marriage, or is virginity the ideal state? A secondary theme is that of religion. Chaucer, like Boccaccio, makes fun of monks and clergy outrageously, but this does not stop him from being extremely pious in other moments.

This brings me to the low points in the book, the two prose pieces: the Tale of Melibee and the Parson’s Tale. Both of these are not really tales at all, but moralizing essays, full of Bible quotes and references to Aristotle and Cicero. (Indeed, they are wisely omitted from the Coghill version, but I suffered through the audio.) Here, we see that Chaucer could be dreadfully boring in certain moods. These two pieces have no humor at all, and are full of the stuffiest, most pedantic piety imaginable—solemnly concluding, for example, that temperance is the opposite of gluttony, or that good advice is preferable to bad advice. After the ebullience of the Wife of Bath, it is puzzling that Chaucer could have written such tedious pettifoggery. Did he intend these ironically, or was he protected himself from damaging accusations, or did he undergo a religious awakening halfway through writing the tales?

Whatever the case may be, the rest of the book is good enough to forgive him these trespasses. To state the obvious, this book is a classic in every sense of the word. Perhaps I ought to try the original once more? Or should I not press my luck?
_______________________
*For what it is worth, I liked the Davis version, and noticed no difference in quality from the esteemed Coghill version. However, I find it odd that Davis has translated books from so many different languages: Gilgamesh, Don Quixote, The Divine Comedy, Beowulf… Either he is a linguistic genius or is getting some help.

[Nataliya Yaneva · Rating 4 out of 5]

„Бащата на английската литература“ Джефри Чосър бил достоен предвестник на бъдещите всестранно развити Ренесансови творци. Освен че пишел, отбирал от астрономия и философия, бил дипломат и чиновник. Никак не е чудно, че неговата пъстра сбирка на съсловията, каквито са „Кентърбърийски разкази“, звучи така правдоподобно (минутка за рубриката „Знаете ли, че“: заглавието на романа на Маргарет Атууд „Разказът на прислужницата“ е реверанс именно към тази Чосърова творба). Чосър също така разполагал с внушителната за времето си библиотека от 60 книги. През 14-ти век, когато грамотността била нещо като екзотична и рядка, но незаразна болест, това си било неподправено съкровище.

„Кентърбърийски разкази“ е толкова разностранна колекция от дъхав хербарий, че ми е трудно да я опиша. Някои разкази довяват смях през вековете и чак ме накараха да се позачудя на дързостта и пиперливия език на Чосър. Други имат поучителен характер и леко суховато съдържание, също като разказвачите си. Има такива, в които се редят строфи за чисти души с възвишени стремежи. Дори и не всеки разказ да ви се понрави, Чосър ще впримчи ума ви и ще прикове погледа ви – знаете, за да разберете какво ще стане по-нататък. Ще прочетете за мъже, които се жалят от жените си, за прелюбодейци и глупци, за една доста поживяла си дама от буржоазното съсловие, за старчоци, които лелеят по млади съпруги и за вероломството на разни самообявили се алхимици. Чосър полекичка увлича в своя средновековен свят на мъдрости и глуми, тъй че попийте умните му думи (нескопосан опит за неправилен хорей или нещо друго; ако ви се щат виртуозни петостъпни ямбове в превод на Александър Шурбанов, не се колебайте да посегнете към книгата). Ако все пак се чудите дали да посветите няколко часа на някакви си истории за отдавна отминали дни, последният ми зов е да изгледате подтика на Ted-Ed по-долу:

Everything you need to know to read “The Canterbury Tales”

[Kyriakos Sorokkou]

WHAN that Aprille with his schowres swoote
The drought of Marche hath perced to the roote,	
And bathud every veyne in suich licour,	
Of which vertue engendred is the flour:

What is The Canterbury Tales
It is the month of April, nature is fertile, the time when people fall in love, travel, and go on pilgrimages.
Chaucer decided to go on a pilgrimage and he encountered in Tabard Inn 29 other people that were also going on a pilgrimage to Canterbury to visit the shrine of St Thomas Becket who was murdered inside the Canterbury Cathedral in 1170. T. S. Eliot's play Murder in the Cathedral is about his murder.
The host (innkeeper) says that since the journey from London to Canterbury will be a long one in order to kill boredom they should say 4 stories each: 2 on their way to Canterbury and 2 on their way from Canterbury back to London. And the one who tells the best tale will win a free meal. That means 30 people x 4 stories each = 120 stories. But what we have is 24 stories running over 17000 lines and over 700 pages. Imagine how longer this piece of work would have been if in the end Chaucer had managed to complete it. At least 3000 pages. On the one hand I'm happy because it would have taken me 3 months to finish it, but on the other hand it's sad that this great piece of work is incomplete.
The inspiration for this poem is obvious; The Decameron written by Giovanni Boccaccio 3-4 decades before The Canterbury Tales.
Some say that Chaucer met Boccaccio in Italy and/or read the Decameron since many stories are more than similar and both works end with an apology. Both works also, became part of a trilogy by Pier Paolo Pasolini along with The Arabian Nights
The end of the Canterbury Tales is a sort of apology where Chaucer renounces the Tales and many of his previous works for the vulgar parts in these works and asking for forgiveness from Christ.
An apology I feel he had to make in order to escape death or persecution (?) #religiousterror
I don't agree with him. Your works are great! Keep writing. Oh wait. . .

The Language
The language is Middle English; the 2nd stage of the development of the English language after the first which is Old English (Beowulf) and before the 3rd which is Early Modern English (Shakespeare). The 4th stage is the English we use today.

Even though I was reading this book in glossed Middle English with a lot of footnotes, as the time went by I got used to it and it became easier to read, much easier than Joyce's Ulysses
I'm honest on this, trust me.
And of course I learnt many 'new' words while reading this work:
swyve=fuck
wight=person
queynte=cunt
eek = also
woot=knew
It is through his work that over 2000 English words were first attested in written manuscripts such as (mercenary, shelf, moral, award, vomit, and many more)

My Experience
At the beginning I was scared because this is
a) a long book and
b) a long book written in Middle English.
But as I said I got used to it and enjoyed it with one exception, The Parson's Tale, which wasn't a tale at all but a religious rant err... sermon on the seven deadly sins(with their many sub-branches) and really complex ways of how to repent, and when &c.
Many stories where written as fabliaux (comic farces usually including sexual and scatological obsenities): The Miller's Tale, The Reeve's Tale, The Cook's Tale, The Merchant's Tale

Some where chivalric romances: The Knight's Tale, The Squire's Tale
Some where animal fables: The Nun's Priest's Tale
But let me stop here because this list won't end soon. . .
So, do I recommend this book. No, for many reasons:
a) It's poetry, and not many people read poetry let alone a 'poem' that runs around 700 pages
b) It's in Middle English so reading in Modern English or any other language will diminish the experience, unless you read it in Middle English which is tough for those who don't have a good level in English.
c) It's long and needs time to be read.

BUT, that being said, it certainly is a worthy piece of literature, written by the father of English Literature, Geoffrey Chaucer, and when you'll finish it you will feel that you crossed off one more thing from your bucket list.

[Fernando · Rating 4 out of 5]

Los “Cuentos de Canterbury” son, junto al “Decamerón” de Giovanni Boccaccio y “La divina Commedia” de Dante Alighieri, las obras más representativas del Renacimiento.
Geoffrey Chaucer es considerado, junto con William Shakespeare uno de los padres de la literatura inglesa, más precisamente porque fue el primer autor en escribir en inglés puro, apartándose de la dominación normanda ejercida por los franceses en Inglaterra.
En estos cuentos podemos notar claramente una riquísima diversidad de temas y tratamientos literarios, que incluyen al cuento clásico, la picaresca, el romancero, la poesía, la fábula e incluso la narrativa cervantina dada la naturaleza de la historia que nos cuenta el desafío que un hostelero hace a personas de distintas profesiones en su camino a la catedral de Canterbury para agradecerle al mártir santo Tomás Beckett.
Otra característica de esta obra de Chaucer es que como los cuentos son relatados por los mismos personajes, podemos afirmar que es un antecedente directo de la novela tal cual la conocemos (lo mismo sucede con el “Decamerón”), ya que todo está atado por un hilo argumental afín a todos los personajes.
Cado una de estos personajes debe contar un cuento de la índole y temática que él elija.
A mi entender, es esa diversidad que Chaucer le da al conjunto de cuentos lo que diferencia claramente a este libro del “Decamerón” de Boccaccio, quien se centra en temas que sólo rozan la religión y los desvíos sexuales transformando al “Decamerón” en un decálogo machista y misógino. No es esto lo que sucede en estos cuentos aunque ciertos relatos sí rocen esos temas.
En líneas generales he disfrutado varios cuentos, muy especialmente los cuentos del Caballero, del Mayordomo, del Marino, del Monje, del Bulero, del Estudiante, del Mercader, del Escudero y del Terrateniente.
Y cada vez son menos los clásicos que me quedan por leer.
La de los “Cuentos de Canterbury” es otra deuda saldada.

[nastya · Rating 3 out of 5]

Everyone knows about this book, right? A collection of stories, told in rhyme, some bawdy, some chivalrous, a lot of preachy and religious sermons, written long long ago in a far away land in the archaic language.

So, this is the thing: I think I enjoyed this on the level of Decameron, although it’s not very fair, because Boccaccio had to produce 100 of them and Chaucer didn’t. And also there’s nothing as hilariously bawdy in this one as Day 3 Tale 10.

Definitely enjoyed less than The Arabian Nights and Ovid’s Metamorphoses, both of which are filled with magic, gods and strange creatures from the far away lands.

And much, much less than Orlando Furioso. Not even close. For me, Ariosto is a much better storyteller and it helps that Orlando Furioso is a surprisingly very nonreligious work even though it’s about literal religious war. But my boy Ludovico just doesn't care about religion and I can relate. Chaucer is not so. And one of the consequences is that this work is antisemitic. The Prioress's Tale, do I have to say more? Vile hateful tale I prefer to ignore completely.

Also, just like others, who wrote for wealthy patrons, Chaucer has his fun at the expense of the lower classes, nobility is beyond reproach, after all, these stories are for John of Gaunt to chuckle at the bawdy ones and for Kathrine to sigh at chivalric ones.

I read Coghill's translation while having an original at hand to check passages, and if you aren’t a snob or an experienced in French, Germanic language, I would recommend this translation. My idea was if I would fall in love with tales in translation, I would return to Chaucer. After all, when I finished Ariosto, I went to Gutenberg just to stare at his lovely Italian that I don’t understand. But alas no magic happened here. Sigh

One of the rare moments when I enjoyed this was when the Host was struggling, listening to Chaucer’s (the character) simple rhymes (the author is a character in the book) and asked him to never write poetry again, you have no talent, Geoff! It was funny.

[Ivana Books Are Magic · Rating 4 out of 5]

I must admit that it's been a while since I read The Canterbury Tales. From a perspective of someone who likes historical literature, it's not easy to guess how this book would strike someone who doesn't read classics or doesn't know anything about the time period it was set it. Would they find it boring? I think that always depends on a reader. Literature is unpredictable that way. One can enjoy a work even if one struggles with the language and doesn't know much about the literary epoch it is set in. As far as recommendations goes, obviously this book is a must read for any student of literature. It is certainly an educating read, but how enjoyable it is? It's not easy to answer such a question or to rate such a classic.
Obviously The Canterbury Tales deserves five starts for its historical importance and literary merit. My rates here on goodreads are more subjective, indicating how much I enjoyed a certain book. I did enjoy The Canterbury Tales, but not as much as some other classics. Like with The Decameron, I have my favourites here, stories that I come back to (The Wife of Bath is particularly hilarious and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it). I really need to reread The Canterbury Tales before attempting a longer review.

[Cindy Rollins · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved the very well done audio. I am giving it 5 stars for sheer surprise at how much I enjoyed it.

[Justin Pickett · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Into the friar’s hand he blew a fart.”

The said friar had just lectured on the evil of anger, calling it the “devil’s knife,” but being tooted on still made him screaming mad. Many of Chaucer’s tales are hilarious like this. In a prologue to one tale, a woman goes to her fourth husband’s funeral, sees a sexy young man there who is 20 years her junior, checks out his hot body “behind the coffin,” and then marries him within a month. This lady shares her views on marriage and men quite frankly.

“A knowing wife if she is worth her salt || Can always prove her husband is at fault.”

“What means of paying her can he invent || Unless he uses his silly instrument? || It follows they were fashioned at creation || Both to purge urine and for propagation.”

Almost all of Chaucer’s tales are entertaining. In one, the crow tragically loses its song voice and color, forever turning black, to teach the importance of holding one’s tongue. In another, a magician removes rocks from a coast to help a man bed another man’s wife. One tale threatens execution to a man unless he can answer the question of what women most desire. And there’s a tale with some literal ass kissing.

“Dark was the night as pitch, as black as coal, || And at the window out she put her hole.”

A number of the tales are less entertaining than philosophical, discussing, for instance, the prophetic value of dreams, the danger of flattery, the nature of marriage, or the fickleness of fortune. Several tales pull back the curtain on moral authorities.

“‘But let me briefly make my purpose plain; || I preach for nothing but for greed of gain … And thus I preach against the very vice || I make my living out of – avarice.”.

I do think The Canterbury Tales are slightly overrated. Overall, they are good, but, despite the genius of Chaucer’s verse, they are not of the same caliber as the stories in The Decameron. Additionally, many of Chaucer’s tales were clearly taken from (or at least inspired by) others, like Giovanni Boccaccio. In my view, the four best tales are: The Knight’s Tale, The Man of Law’s Tale, The Monks’s Tale, and The Wife of Bath’s Tale.

“I am, thou knowest, of thy company, || A huntress, still in my virginity, || And only ask to walk the woodlands wild, || And not to be a wife or be with child.”

“Seneca and philosophers of old || Bewail time’s loss more than the loss of gold: || ‘Lost money is not lost beyond recall, || But loss of time brings on the loss of all.”

MEMORABLE LINES

“Love is law unto itself. My hat! || What earthly man can have more law than that?”

“Imprisonment was not what made me cry || I have been hurt this moment through the eye, || Into my heart. It will be death to me. || The fairness of the lady that I see.”

“This world is but a thoroughfare of woe || And we are pilgrims passing to and fro.”

“For wives, albeit very holy things, || Are bound to suffer patiently at night || Such necessary pleasures as the King’s, || Or others’ who have wedded them with rings.”

“Even the friends he has will not endure, || For if good fortune makes your friends for you || Ill fortune makes them enemies for sure, || A proverb very trite and very true.”

“Top of all treason, sovereign pestilence, || Is the betrayal done on innocence.”

“Gambling’s the very mother of robbed purses, || Lies, double-dealing, perjury, and cures, || Manslaughter, blasphemy of Christ, and waste || Of time and money. Worse, you are debased || In public reputation, put to shame. || ‘A common gambler’ is a nasty name.”

“If there were no authority on earth || Except experience, mine, for what it’s worth, || And that’s enough for me, all goes to show || That marriage is a misery and a woe.”

“We women have a curious fantasy || In such affairs, or so it seems to me. || When something’s difficult, or can’t be had, || We crave and cry for it all day like mad || Forbid a thing, we pine for it all night, || Press fast upon us and we take to flight.”

“But truly poor are they who whine and fret || And covet what they cannot hope to get. || And he that, having nothing, covets not, || Is rich, though you may think he is a sot.”

“You can take life, have power to destroy, || But that’s the only power you enjoy.”

[Erin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read for my English 201 class in university. I recall how many upperclassmen warned me how terrible Chaucer was going to be. I never admitted it at the time, but I really enjoyed it.

[Spencer Orey · Rating 5 out of 5]

5 stars for the performance, not for the absolute classic of English literature lol. I liked the voice actors and thought they each brought the tales to life. Listening to this was much easier than reading it for me

[Luke · Rating 4 out of 5]

Right so bitwixe a titlelees tiraunt
And an outlaw or a theef erraunt,
The same I seye: ther is no difference.
To Alisaundre was toold this sentence,
That, for the tirant is of gretter myght
By force of meynee for to sleen dounright,
And brennen hous and hoom, and make al playn,
Lo, therfore is he cleped a capitayn;
And for the outlawe hath but smal meynee,
And may not doon so greet an harm as he,
Ne brynge a contree to so greet mescheef,
Men clepen hym an outlawe or a theef.

If one ever took a look at my disaster of a degree progress report and skimmed down to the very bottom, they'd find the ten upper division English course I took/am taking in order to finally get my BA. What experimental woman's lit, postcolonial short stories, Milton, and the seven various others have in common is an adamant refusal to partake in the 1900s/American/20th century fill in the blanks that gestures at a general education and enacts little more than a cold and miserable hierarchy. In this brave new modernity of mine, what I am utterly sick of is the pretense pilled on pretense of This Is How It Is and This Is How It Has Always Been and This Is How It Will Always Be that chokes every field with the White Male Name. If you would claim science exempt, give up Newton and go back to the Golden Age of Islam and even further beyond to Greek-termed Persia and first-university South Asia and Morocco. I take a similar path through literature, as what's the use of an increasing glut of literature since the European colonial gaze unfolded if one insists that on the increasingly straight and narrow? The benefit of this is, the more you go back to that Middle English and that Old English and blood and bone not caught up in the people dead for centuries before one corner of the world thought to start calling them "white", the more it all starts to all fall apart. My interest lies in sharp edges of things that common sense would decry as nonexistent. Here, there be monsters.

I used two editions of The Canterbury Tales for this university class. One came from sophomore year of high school, brought out again briefly for community college and, after this most recent stint, irretrievably marked up with notes and smudges and emoticons. The other's a library copy of what the school insists on charging three figures for, decent enough in the holistic sense but certainly not enough to justify that facet of the socioeconomic war on education. With each assigned section, I read the latter's Middle English first and the former's verse translation second, and if anyone tries to tell you that you must commit to the untranslated version in order to "really" have "read" The Canterbury Tales, laugh at them for me. It's that elitism and the "translated" version's elitism and every other branch of elitism other the sun that's ruining this admirable and hilarious and terrifying and gloriously informative text for everyone who's native language is not the monstrosity of French and Latin and German that's been masquerading as its own thing for little more than a millennium, not "the times". Seriously, what the fuck are "the times". If it means what I think it means, I'll trust that each and every elitist can wipe the floor with me when it comes to all ecclesiastical and narratological and cross-cultural frameworks caught up in this ridiculously unfinished work. If they do worse than me and my newfangled ideas about readers reading however they can, what's the point?

What are The Canterbury Tales? They're a riddle. They're a hoot. They're powerful in their pictures of morality and dynamic in their interest in the marrow of things, what makes a Pardoner and what makes a Monk and how all of this may have sent us all to burn in hell if the Wife of Bath didn't really know her stuff. There are all the things the Church tells you and the men tell you and the satirists tell you, and then there are all the things that exist in texts inside and outside the lingo (English at this time was the slang of hicks and street urchins, and if you can't appreciate that you're going to have a hell of a time understanding what Chaucer was accomplishing. Not surpassing, mind you. That would've meant a pretentious forgetting of roots and no English as we know it for us) whose lack of copyright is less interesting than the Thousand and One Nights overtly trickling in from god knows where. There's faith, there's beauty, there're the ancient trails of antisemitism and Islamophobia that contemporary critics would do well to break out of their blinkered post-1980's state and analyze, and then there's the fact that Chaucer was a literal child of the Black Death. He'll play and play and question and question, savvy enough to both side-eye the misogynists and transition between the Shakespeare plays of Richard II and Henry IV, and then, at the end of it all, sink into the fear and doubt that we really all the pilgrims of his pre-Canterbury Knight's Tale, wandering in a world of woe. Life back then had its brilliance, barring the pall of the forthcoming Renaissance, but so did undrugged, unmedicated, unyielding death.

I threw four figures of tuition at this work in order to get the eleven weeks and 50+ pages of notes necessary for my current level of appreciation, so if anyone can manage a tenth as much without that amount of monetary impetus, they're doing just fine. Don't bother with this if looking at it makes you feel pressured or frustrated in any sense of the word. I can tell you for a fact Chaucer would have watched the elitists carefully and made blowhard Friars out of them all. There's nothing he liked worse than the learned who refused to teach.

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.

[Tony · Rating 1 out of 5]

The Canterbury Tales are not uniformly terrible.  In fact, I quite enjoyed the first two stories (Knight's and Miller's tales).  However, the remaining vignettes were, at best, mediocre.  Further, the longest two tales--those of Melibee and the Parson--are absolutely awful.  Both of these are extended plotless sermons on prudent actions (Melibee's) or the various sins (Parson's).  Getting through this collection was genuinely an act of endurance rather than pleasure.  I could not wait to put this book down and never ever pick it up again.