The Wife of Bath's Tale
The Clerk's Tale
The Reeve's Tale
The Nun's Priest's Tale
Four more delightful tales from one of the most
entertaining storytellers of all time. Though writing in
the 14th century, Chaucer's wit and observation comes down
undiminished through the ages, especially in this
accessible modern verse translation. The stories vary
considerably: the uproarious Wife of Bath's Tale, promoting
the power of women; the sober account of patient Griselda
in the Clerk's Tale; the ribald Reeve's Tale and the
diverting tale of Chanticleer told by the Nun's Priest.
The group continues its pilgrimage to Canterbury,
talking with each other, their interaction mediated
(sometimes) by the affable Host - Chaucer himself.
The Canterbury Tales, written near the end of Chaucer's
life and hence towards the close of the fourteenth century,
Is perhaps the greatest English literary work of the Middle
Ages: yet it speaks to us today with almost undimmed
clarity and relevance.
Chaucer imagines a group of twenty-nine pilgrims who
meet in the Tabard Inn in Southwark, intent on making the
traditional journey to the martyr's shrine of St Thomas a
Becket in Canterbury. Harry Bailly landlord of the Tabard,
proposes that the company should entertain themselves on
the road with a storytelling competition. The teller of the
best tale will be rewarded with a supper at the others'
expense when the travellers return to London. Chaucer never
completed this elaborate scheme - each pilgrim was supposed
to tell four tales, but in fact we only have twenty-four
altogether - yet, with the pieces of linking narrative and
the prologues to each tale, the work as a whole constitutes
a marvellously varied evocation of the medieval world which
also goes beyond its period to penetrate (humorously,
gravely tolerantly) human nature itself.
Chaucer, as a member of this company of pilgrims,
presents himself with mock innocence as the admiring
observer of his fellows, depicted in the General Prologue.
Many of these are clearly rogues - the coarse, cheating
Miller, the repulsive yet compelling Pardoner - yet in each
of them Chaucer finds something human, often a sheer
vitality or love of life which is irresistible: the Monk
may prefer hunting to prayer, but he is after all a manly
man, to be an abbot able. Perhaps only the unassuming,
devoted Parson and his humbly labouring brother the
Ploughman rise entirely above Chaucer's teasing irony;
certainly the Parson's fellow clergy and religious officers
belong to a Church riddled with gross corruption. Everyone,
it seems, is on the make, in a world still recovering from
the ravages of the Black Death.