Classics and the Western Canon discussion

After the very pleasant Man of Law's tale, we return to adultery and treachery. But this one seems quite different from the Miller's and Reeve's tales; here we are dealing with upper middle class, educated, more mature people, and in my view a much wittier and smoother fabliau. It almost seems to me to read like a modern short story -- I wouldn't be that surprised to find an updated version of it in the New Yorker. Or am I off my rocker from too much Keemun tea tonight?

Everyman wrote: "After the very pleasant Man of Law's tale, we return to adultery and treachery. But this one seems quite different from the Miller's and Reeve's tales; here we are dealing with upper middle class,..."

Ho-hum. I wonder how many of these we'll have to go through.

Laurele wrote: "Ho-hum. I wonder how many of these we'll have to go through. "

Well, there has to be some reason Chaucer has retained his popularity for all these centuries! [g]

But yes, I also hope we can get a spate of more pleasant tales.

Listened again to the Shipman's tale this afternoon, and got a different take on it. The adultery in it is really underplayed down to almost nothing, so that doesn't seem to me to be the crux of the story. What I got out of it this time was a woman, who let's not forget in Chaucer's age was not an independent person, playing two intelligent, sophisticated men to get what she wanted, basically money and the "good life." She is the moving force behind the tale, the manipulator. Although she has to use her sexuality to get what she wants, it seems almost a tale of female empowerment relative to what I would normally expect from that time.

I wonder if the adultery is played down in the Shipman's Tale because sailors are reputed to have girls in every port, whether they are married or not? It is a different standard of morality perhaps.

Everyman wrote: "Listened again to the Shipman's tale this afternoon, and got a different take on it. The adultery in it is really underplayed down to almost nothing, so that doesn't seem to me to be the crux of t..."

I like your reading Everyman and agree. The merchant comes out best here with the scheming behind his back by his faithless wife and a false friend.

Everyman wrote: "Listened again to the Shipman's tale this afternoon, and got a different take on it. The adultery in it is really underplayed down to almost nothing, so that doesn't seem to me to be the crux of t..."

I have to admit at first I was a little confused by this tale. I don't know if it was because of my reading so many tales back to back and I was tired, or what. But I had the merchant and the monk confused at times.

Reading your comments, I can see how it could be female empowerment. She knows what she wants, she has a husband that won't let her have it, and she goes about getting what she wants in a very crafty way.

I like the zero-sum finale to this tale, but am a little bothered by its amorality. It reminds me of David Hume's empirical scepticism, the notion that what you don't see or experience first-hand cannot be proven to exist. In A Treatise of Human Nature Hume argues that "our actions never cause any judgment, either true or false, in ourselves, and that ’tis only on others they have such an influence." Hume's example is a Chaucerian one: A person who passes by Hume's window and sees Hume engaged in lewd acts with a woman would assume that the woman was his wife. It is in fact his neighbor's wife, but the passerby does not know that and can form no moral judgment on that basis.

But what is worse, that Dan Jaun is a monk, or that he is (supposedly) a very good friend of the merchant? How can we not be expected to make a judgment about that on some level?

Thomas wrote: "I like the zero-sum finale to this tale, but am a little bothered by its amorality. It reminds me of David Hume's empirical scepticism, the notion that what you don't see or experience first-hand c..."

I'm not so sure I agree with Hume on that statement, if I'm reading it correctly. Is he saying that one doesn't judge oneself? Because I certainly have after I've done something. Be it a comment or action, I've thought about it after and passed judgment on myself for what I've done.

As for your questions, I think it is worse that he is a very good friend of the merchant rather than a monk. Maybe it's modern times and seeing those who are supposed to be celibate failing, but it doesn't surprise me. However, being a true friend and being with the friends wife? To me that is worse.

Jennifer wrote: "Is he saying that one doesn't judge oneself? Because I certainly have after I've done something. Be it a comment or action, I've thought about it after and passed judgment on myself for what I've done. "

Interesting question -- I'm not sure! It might be difficult to judge yourself in Hume's system, because his moral system is based on feelings (which are generated causally) rather than principles. I suppose if you did something that made you feel bad, you could judge yourself for that. I know that sounds strange. Hume is an odd duck.

But I was reminded of him because there is a similar dynamic in this tale -- the merchant is oblivious to what is going on, so it doesn't affect him one way or the other. Nobody gets hurt and everyone goes away happy. Except, possibly, the reader.

Thomas wrote: "But I was reminded of him because there is a similar dynamic in this tale -- the merchant is oblivious to what is going on, so it doesn't affect him one way or the other. Nobody gets hurt and everyone goes away happy. Except, possibly, the reader.
."

On a "what you don't know can't hurt you" philosophy, you're right.

But isn't the merchant hurt in a way he doesn't yet realize by the treachery of his wife and friend?

Thomas wrote: "But what is worse, that Dan Jaun is a monk, or that he is (supposedly) a very good friend of the merchant? "

For me, it's the friend aspect that is worse. Don Juan being a monk is nothing to do with the merchant; that failure of vows is between DJ and his God or his abbey. But being deceived by a person one has befriended, and assisted with a loan, makes it personal and therefore I think much worse.

Everyman wrote: "But isn't the merchant hurt in a way he doesn't yet realize by the treachery of his wife and friend?


I think this is what gives the reader pause, but there is nothing in the tale to suggest that the merchant will find out, so no, he isn't hurt at all. The merchant comes back from a profitable business trip to a happy wife and his friend's debt paid in full.

We are accustomed to stories in which this is only the first act, and we expect subsequent events to show up the monk for the dastard that he is. But that is not what Chaucer gives us here.

Thomas wrote: "Everyman wrote: "But isn't the merchant hurt in a way he doesn't yet realize by the treachery of his wife and friend?


I think this is what gives the reader pause, but there is nothing in the tale..."

It isn't what Chaucer gives us, but could it be that that is what he intended? It would have been interesting to see if this tale was continued when the Shipman told his second tale. Perhaps another event in which the wife's fidelity was proven false.

We'll never really know what the finished tales should be, and I think that is one of the greatest tragedies in literary history. (The first being the loss of the Library at Alexandria...)

I received Canterbury Tales yesterday amongst a shipment of books. Since the Shipman's tale was the one being discussed here this week, I turned to it first -- it has been years since I last read Chaucer.

My reaction was simple, albeit probably amoral: bemused.

At a younger age these tales would have troubled me, as The Decameron did. Today I marvel at these authors who could so closely observe and record the variety of human behavior, often without judgment thereon. Somewhere, somehow, it seems to me there is an element of something very moral about that.

Perhaps another moral of these stories is the informing to our own behavior.

I received Canterbury Tales yesterday amongst a shipment of books. Since the Shipman's tale was the one being discussed here this week, I turned to it first -- it has been years since I last read Chaucer.

My reaction was simple, albeit probably amoral: bemused, or perhaps more accurately in today's language, amused.

At a younger age these tales would have troubled me, as The Decameron did. Today I marvel at these authors who could so closely observe and record the variety of human behavior, often without judgment thereon. Somewhere, somehow, it seems to me there is an element of something very moral about that -- judge not,...

Perhaps another moral of these stories is the informing to our own behaviors and options.

Jennifer wrote: "It isn't what Chaucer gives us, but could it be that that is what he intended? It would have been interesting to see if this tale was continued when the Shipman told his second tale. Perhaps another event in which the wife's fidelity was proven false.

."

That's a good point -- we don't know how the finished Tales would look. But this tale, taken in itself, seems very finished to me. Perhaps Chaucer wants us to see that there is something missing here (a moral conclusion), but I think it's designed to provoke that reaction in the reader.

Lily wrote: "I received Canterbury Tales yesterday amongst a shipment of books. Since the Shipman's tale was the one being discussed here this week, I turned to it first -- it has been years since I last read ..."

Good point, Lily. CT is an ideal vehicle to teach students to think for themselves and the (no doubt) different opinions expressed would encourage lively debate. And all the rude words (in the Miller's Tale) for example, would make them laugh.

Although adultery was punishable in law, it was also a cause of ribaldry for medieval people, especially if an old husband was cuckolded by a young one. So a husband was less likely to 'make a meal of it' in public, even though he might (legally) beat his wife for it in private. We see from the Wife of Bath's tale in particular that quite a lighthearted view is taken of 'straying' and as women were born evil, because of Eve's sin, they were expected to be wicked.

"We see from the Wife of Bath's tale "

Careful of spoilers, please, Madge.

Bill wrote: "So the trader gets what he wants by trading.
The wife gets what she wants by sex.
And the monk gets what he wants by lying and conniving.

A particular attitude toward certain occupations seems to ..."

LOL!!!