When Geoffrey Chaucer sat down to begin writing his famous and widely revered work, The Canterbury Tales, it is unlikely that he was merely trying to write a novel set of short stories to entertain those educated enough to read them.
With the vast number of scholars who currently spend their lives studying the unfinished composition, myriad ambiguities and underlying themes found within, as well as the exhaustive rhyming couplets, it must have taken him an insurmountable amount of planning. This said, it should not be surprising that Chaucer would take time to present arguments to the readers, enveloping his personal beliefs and qualms into the words, both blatant and obscure. One of these motifs that he presents quite frequently in the form of several characters is corruption within the Catholic church.
Chaucer’s time was one of the highly-controversial indulgences, a way paying off sins like debts to the Church, which would one day spark Martin Luther’s Protestant Reformation. Like Luther, it seems, Chaucer was opposed to these indulgences, along with other forms of money-laundering and sinful behavior he believed to be commonplace among the clergy. In protest of this iniquitous moral ineptitude, Chaucer uses his characters as pawns, both to show everything that was wrong and could be right in Christianity.
The Canterbury Tales takes little time to begin a diatribe on the ostentatiously religious in the Chaucer’s General Prologue. This section describes in great detail pilgrim Chaucer’s (the author’s personification of himself in the work) first impressions of the others he encounters at the beginning of his journey. In doing so, he often gives away far more information than at first meets the eye. Though outwardly respectful to all, even pilgrim Chaucer cannot contain his distaste for some of the characters.
The pardoner is one of these people. In fact, Chaucer begins by making some snide remarks about the man’s appearance, insinuating that he might be a homosexual.
“This pardoner hadde heer as yellow as wex, But smothe it heng, as dooth a strike of flex; By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde, And therwith he his shuldres overspradde; But thinne it lay, by colpons oon and oon… No berd hadde he, ne nevere sholde have, As smothe it was as it were late shave” (General Prologue 675-690). The long, golden locks described by Chaucer would be considered feminine even today, and the fact that the pardoner bears no hint of facial hair further galvanizes the assault on his masculinity. Yet, Chaucer does not stop there. He continues to ravage the man’s character without holding back.
“For in his male he hadde a pilwe-beer, Which that he seyde was Oure Lady veyl. He seyde he hadde a gobet of the seyl That seynt Peter hadde, whan he wente Upon the see, til Jesu Christ him hente. He had a croys of latoun, full of stones, And in a glas he hadde pigges bones. But with thise relikes, whan that he fond A povre person dwellinge upon lond, Upon a day he gat him more moneye Than that person gat in monthes tweye” (General Prologue 701-704). In these lines, Chaucer calls the pardoner a liar, saying that he uses false relics in order to coerce larger sums of money out of the people he meets. This not only makes him a sinner through his deception of the innocent, but through greed, which was considered a mortal sin. Chaucer says that the man’s greed is apparent in his religious behavior as well.
“For wel he wiste, whan that song was songe He moste preche, and wel affyle his tonge, To winne silver, as he ful wel coude – Therefore he song the murierly and loude” (General Prologue 711-714). In other words, he would put on a pious act, in order to gain respect and admiration from those around him. He knew that through his passionate songs he could earn even more money, fueling his greed. So aware did Chaucer wish the readers to be of the pardoner’s evil intentions that he had the pardoner admit them outwardly to the other pilgrims.
“For myn entente is nat but for to winne, And nothing for correccioun of sinne: I rekke nevere, whan that they ben beried, Though that hir soules goon a-blakeberied!” The pardoner says in his prologue. “For certes, many a predicacioun Comth ofte tyme of yvel entencioun: Som for plesaunce of folk and flaterye, To been avaunced by ypocrisye, And some for veyne glorie, and som for hate” (Pardoner’s Prologue and Tale 403-411). To put it bluntly, the pardoner is admitting that his only goal is to maximize his wealth. He does not care what happens to anyone’s soul, and says that a great number of sermons, not just his own, are inspired by evil intentions. The matter-of-fact way in which he explains himself makes evident just how little conscience he has.
In his prologue, the pardoner gives some extreme examples of his heartlessness. He says that he will take anyone’s money gladly and without hesitation. Even if the children of a poor widow will starve, he says, he will still take her money. However, the pardoner is not only guilty of his professed avarice and a lack of concern for other human beings. He is also guilty of the mortal sin of sloth.
“That I wol live in povert wilfully? Nay, nay, I thoghte it nevere, trewely! For I wol preche and begge in sondry londes; I wol nat do no labour with myn hondes…” (Pardoner’s Prologue and Tale 441-444). He says here that he will do anything to avoid doing manual labor. The Bible speaks volumes on the merits of hard work and manual labor. Ephesians is only one example of many, but it says:
“Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labor, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth” (Ephesians 4:28). This is an evident contrast to the pardoner’s behavior: in fact, it is an exact opposite. While the Bible instructs not to steal, to work hard with one’s hands and give money to those in need, he is tricking poor people out of their money, avoiding all work with his hands, and keeping the money he earns to himself.
At the completion of his tale, the pardoner has the guile to ask his fellow pilgrims for money, adding insult to injury. After all, he had told them only a little earlier that he was a fraud.
“If any of yow wol of devocioun Offren and han myn absolucioun, Cometh forth anon, and kneleth heer adoun, And mekely receyveth my pardoun; Or elles, taketh pardon as ye wende, Al newe and fresh, at every myles ende–So that ye offren alwey newe and newe…” (Pardoner’s Prologue and Tale 923-929). He not only asks for their money, but recommends they pay him and ask for further pardons at the end of every mile of the pilgrimage.
The Friar was a particularly shifty character as well, and he was another man who was very forgiving towards people if they had enough money:
“He was an esy man to yeve penaunce there as he wiste to have good pitaunce” (General Prologue 223-224). The friar’s avarice was rather apparent like the pardoner’s, but he was slightly less open about it. He gave some meager justifications for his behavior:
“For many a man so hard is of his herte, He may nat wepe although hym sore smerte. Therefore, in stede of wepinge and preyeres, Men moot yeve silver to the povre frères” (General Prologue 229-232). He said that money was the true way to judge whether a person was penitent, since some men were simply too manly to show emotion over their sins.
In addition to conning money from rich people, the friar enjoyed indulging in other sins, such as gluttony and lust.
“He knew the taverns wel in every toun, And everich hostiler and tappestere Bet than a lazar or a beggestere,” Chaucer says (General Prologue 240-242). In other words, he would rather spend time drinking in the bars than helping the sick or the poor. This was not the intended role of a friar, who was, in fact, supposed to help those very kinds of people. The friar liked to flirt and was, according to Chaucer, good at it.
“And rage he coude, as it were right a whelpe; In love-dayes ther doude he muchel helpe, For there he was nat lyk a cloisterer” (General Prologue 257-259). The friar, Chaucer says, is very flirtatious with women and good at what he does. He does not act like a stereotypical religious person is supposed to act: like the pardoner, he is quite the opposite.
Just because most of the religious figures in The Canterbury Tales are similar in their lack of moral conduct does not mean that they get along. In fact, it could be argued that the friar outright despises the summoner. He accuses the summoner of committing some of the very same sins that he is guilty of, making him a hypocrite, as well. Before the friar begins his tale, he tells everyone just how he feels:
“Pardee, ye may wel knowe by the name That of a somnour may no good be sayd… A somnour is a renner up and doun With mandements for fornicacioun, and is y-bet at every tounes ende,” the friar says (Friar’s Prologue 1280-1285). Yet, Chaucer had earlier spoken of the friar’s fondness of flirting with women and insinuated that he may be doing more than just that. Dante’s Inferno, a book quite representative of the views of many people at this time, puts hypocrites in one of the lowest levels of hell. In his hypocrisy, the friar is embracing one of the most wicked crimes of his time. Yet, out of his hatred for the summoner, the friar tells a tale directed at him, explaining what terrible people summoners are.
“Pardee, ye may wel knowe by the name That of a somnour may no good be sayd… A somnour is a renner up and doun With mandements for fornicacioun, and is y-bet at every tounes ende” (Friar’s Prologue 1280-1285). The friar also called the summoner a thief and even compared him to Judas, the ultimate betrayer of Christ.
“And right as Judas hadde purses smale And was a theef, right switch a theef was he. His maister hadde but half his duetee” (Friar’s Prologue 1350-1352). This is the ultimate insult, because Judas has long been deemed one of the most evil people of all time, in his betrayal of the messiah. In Dante’s Inferno, Judas, along with Julius Caesar’s betrayers, Brutus and Cassius, has the worst punishment of all: being chewed in Lucifer’s three mouths in the ninth circle of hell (Inferno 34.61-67).
The summoner, infuriated by the insults, is quick to retaliate to the friar in his prologue.
“Freres and feendes been but lyte asonder. For, pardee, ye han ofte tyme herd telle How that a frère ravisshed was to helle…” (Summoner’s Prologue 1674-1676).
Nevertheless, Chaucer in no way indicates that the summoner is innocent of the friar’s charges. In fact, the summoner could be considered one of the most vile, sinful characters in TheCanterbury Tales, along with the Pardoner. Even the summoner’s countenance reveals the underlying iniquity.
“(The summoner) hadde a fyr-reed cherubbines face, For sawcefleem he was, with eyen narwe. As hoot he was and lecherous as a sparwe…” (General Prologue 624-626). This passage wastes no time in describing the pimples that cover his “fire red” face and his lecherous tendencies in detail. Especially in this time period, people might have often believed that people’s physical traits could be representative of what lied within. The intense redness of his face could also have been associated with alcoholism, as it is sometimes today. This suspicion is heightened by some of the following lines:
“And for to drinken strong wyn, reed as blood. Thanne wolde he speke, and crye as he were wood” (General Prologue 635-636). If he liked his wine that strong, and if he regularly drank to the point of being loud and belligerent, as this passage says, it only deepens the argument that he drank far too much and could have been an alcoholic. This, of course, would place him quite securely under the sin of gluttony.
Just like the other religious characters, the summoner is guilty of avarice, and like them, he was easily paid off:
“And if he fond owher a good felawe, he wolde techen him to have non awe In switch cas of the erchedeknes curs, But-if a mannes soul were in his purs, For in his purs he sholde y-punisshed be. ‘Purs is the erchedeknes helle,’ seyde he” (General Prologue 653-658). Once again, a common theme of ignoring the poor exists in this character. It seems to be a point that Chaucer wanted to drill into people’s skulls. And just as the friar accuses him, the summoner is lustful, sometimes taking advantage of women. Chaucer describes him in this way in the prologue:
“In daunger hadde he at his owene gyse The yonge girles of the diocyse, And knew hir counseil, and was al hir reed” (General Prologue 663-665) Chaucer is saying here that the summoner had power over young women because of his position and had “his way” with them, because he knew their deepest secrets and acted as an adviser to them.
The monk is relatively consistent with these others in his vices. He too has a taste for riches and cares little about his actual job. The monk has an affinity for hunting, which was a pastime of the wealthy (General Prologue 166). But, the extravagance of his life does not stop there. He also owns numerous expensive horses (General Prologue 168). He even knows that his way of life is said to be immoral in the Bible, yet it does not phase him:
“He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen, That seith that hunters ben nat holy men, Ne that a monk, when he is reccheless, Is lykned til a fish that is waterless” (General Prologue 177-180). In fact, Proverbs 12:27 does state that those who hunt for sport, but do not eat the meat of the animals they kill are slothful men. Whether this is the particular passage Chaucer is referring to or not, the Bible does condemn behavior like that of the Monk, but he willingly goes against what is said Biblically.
As outrageous as such disregard may have seemed to pilgrim Chaucer, it is common among the religious figures of the text. The Monk is fat as well (General Prologue 200), a sign of his gluttony, a vice he also shares with many of the others.
Perhaps, one of the most ambiguous characters in The Canterbury Tales is the Prioress, though she is corrupt nonetheless. Though pilgrim Chaucer actually seems fond of her, the true Chaucer, it would seem, feels differently. This is revealed in some of his less-than-obvious commentary on her personality and priorities. Chaucer says of her:
“That of hir smyling was ful simple and coy – Hir gretteste ooth was but by Seynte Loy” (General Prologue 119-120). This passage, though short, is very revealing. First of all, the word “coy” is not generally a nice one, especially in terms of religious propriety. It is used to describe someone who pretends to be shy or modest in a flirtatious way. It would not be suspected in our day, nor in Chaucer’s, for a nun’s behavior to be described as “flirtatious” or “provocative.” Furthermore, she wears an especially interesting piece of jewelry on her arm. According to pilgrim Chaucer’s seemingly flawless memory, the ornament bears the words “Amor vincit omnia” (General Prologue 162). Those well-versed in Latin may take a step back upon seeing this. After all, the word “amor” does not necessarily imply brotherly love, but is often used in the sense of romantic love. By this time, the cautious reader should be alerted that there may be more to the prioress than at first meets the eye. After all, in a work as carefully crafted as The Canterbury Tales, few words or meanings are placed accidentally, or without forethought.
The reference to Saint Loy, more commonly known as Saint Eligius could also be overlooked by the untrained eye. However, this seemingly cursory reference sums up a lot of what Chaucer really has to say about the prioress: Saint Eligius is the patron saint of goldsmiths. It only makes sense that a nun obsessed with gold, glamour and gaudiness would choose such a saint. The reader’s suspicions are brought to light as Chaucer’s descriptions continue to her apparel:
“Ful fetis was hir cloke, as I was war. Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene” (General Prologue 157-159). Someone who truly cared about the poor would not adorn themselves in such a luxurious way. The fact that Chaucer even uses the term “gauded” is very revealing, as it implies showiness. This is certainly not a trait smiled upon in Christianity.
The prioress’ vanity does not only apply to her expensive and stylish taste in apparel, however. It relates to her behavior, too. The way the prioress handles herself may at first seem polite, but upon further analysis it could also be considered pretentious.
“Wel coude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe That no drope ne fille upon hire brest. In curteisye was set ful muchel hir lest. Hir over-lippe wiped she so clene, That in hir coppe was no farthing sene Of grece, whan she drunken hadde hir draughte” (General Prologue 130-134). One could possibly infer that she was merely a dainty eater and simply did not eat very much. Perhaps one could also infer that she was merely raised with good manners, and perhaps through some creativity, come up with various other explanations. But, Chaucer makes sure, though he does it somewhat subtly, to let the reader know that food is not the factor here:
“For hardily she was nat undergrowe,” Chaucer says (General Prologue 156). “She was not undersized.” This is a polite way of saying the prioress was a little chubby, if not outright fat. If she was just a picky eater, or simply did not like to eat very much, she probably would not have gained all those extra pounds. It would seem that she actually liked to eat quite a bit. If this is true, than one can only surmise that she puts on a show when she is in public. She pretends to be something she is not, which once again points back to hypocrisy. It also shows that she is preoccupied with her image, which should be the last thing on a nun’s mind. The obsession with her appearance follows up the affinity for expensive jewelry in asserting that the nun is actually a quite shallow individual.
Like the others who Chaucer more plainly critiques, the prioress has her priorities all fumbled up. She places her own appearance above nearly everything else, but that is not the only priority she does not have straight. She also has an obsession with small, furry animals:
“She wolde wepe, if that she sawe a mous Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde. Of smale houndes hadde she, that she fedde With roasted flesh, or milk and wastel-breed. But sore wepte she if oon of hem were deed, Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte” (General Prologue 144-149). Once again, pilgrim Chaucer seems to be admiring her for her tender heart, but the author Chaucer knows different. Being her creator, he sees beyond this, and invites the reader to ask the bigger question: why does she not show the same care she shows for animals to human beings? She is willing to buy expensive food to feed her dogs, but she could care less about all of the starving people living around her.
The true story with the prioress is not with what is said about her, but with what is not said. Chaucer goes on for lines and lines about how the prioress cares for her pets and other small, furry things, but fails to mention her good works with humanity.
When the reader finally arrives at the Prioress’s Tale, she becomes an even more mysterious character. Her story, a strange tale about a boy who is killed by Jews for singing a hymn, is difficult to interpret. It leaves the reader wondering if the story is an inspiring tale about the power of Christ, or a racist one about the iniquity of Jews. Based on the lack of real substance or meaning, the latter seems more plausible. It is quite difficult to discern what a magic pearl on the tongue of a young boy murdered by suspicious Jewish people has to do with God’s love. The entire premise is based on a pure Christian child being attacked by angry Jews – the ending is merely thrown together in an attempt at some sort of triumph on Christianity’s part.
What it boils down to, is that as benign as the prioress appears at first, even to pilgrim Chaucer, she cares little for people other than herself and may even be quite racist. Upon careful analysis, it is impossible to deny that she is a sinful, lustful, avaricious hypocrite, as are the rest of the aforementioned religious figures.
With all of the corruption he endowed upon most of the clergy in The Canterbury Tales, Chaucer must have felt that he needed some sign of hope. Even if he truly believed that most clergy were misrepresenting the religion, he must have believed there were some good people out there. Even if he did not, Chaucer still needed a good example of how such people should behave in a perfect world. He found this character in the parson.
Unlike the other religious people, who either were explicitly described as evil men, or were mysteriously not described in terms of good works, such as the prioress, the parson can practically do no wrong:
“A good man was ther of religioun, And was a povre Persoun of a toun, but riche he was of holy thoght and werk” (General Prologue 477-479). Immediately, Chaucer sets the plane very high, describing the parson as all the things the others were not. First of all, he was a “good man” and actually valued the relgion. Second, and maybe most important, he was poor. Unlike the others, he did not value earthly signs of wealth, jewels, horses, or anything else. Chaucer also says “He coude in litel thing han suffisaunce” (General Prologue 490), which means that he was perfectly capable of surviving on almost nothing, as Christ often did.
Unlike many of the other characters, who did not care about the people they were supposed to be helping, often tricking them out of their money, the parson did what was right: “He was also a lerned man, a clerk, That Cristes gospel trewely wolde preche; His parisshens devoutly wolde he teche” (480-482). He was not like the prioress, with her great vanity, because could care less about gaudiness and he did not seek to control others or want to be worshiped.
“He wayted after no pompe and reverence,” Chaucer says, “Ne maked him a spyced conscience, But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve, He taught, and first he folwed it himselve.” In complete contrast to the pardoner, who would do anything he could to avoid doing work with his hands, the parson gladly works day and night to assist those who need him. It does not even matter what the conditions are.
“Wyd was his parisshe, and houses fer asunder, But he ne lafte nat, for reyn ne thunder, In siknes nor in mischief, to visyte The ferreste in his parisshe, much and lyte”(491-494). The parson is willing to risk his life to help others, essentially. This is what Chaucer believes his job should be, and he is carrying it out just as he should. However, the parson sums it all up, in what is, perhaps, a message directed to the other characters and people like them by Chaucer:
“That if gold ruste, what shal iren do?” (General Prologue 500). In other words, the clergy cannot expect their parishes to be good people, or maintain order if they do not live moral existences, as well. If the set example is wrong, then the followers will not have any proper guidance.
This is the message Chaucer is sending to the people of his day. He is sending them the example of the parson, and telling them that, if they are not living their lives as he does, then they are not setting righteous examples. As critical as he is, Chaucer is saying that righteousness is not impossible, merely difficult to achieve. He wants the readers to be disgusted by the sinners and inspired by the parson. In doing so, he seeks much of the same reformative change that would be sought in Europe for years to come.
Works Cited:
The Bible
Chaucer, Geoffrey. The Canterbury Tales. Los Angeles: W.W. Norton & Company, 2005.
Dante, Alighieri. The Inferno. Barnes & Noble, 2005.
