An Analysis of the Framework Structure of Chaucer`s

Orbis Litterarum (1972), XXVII, 179-201
An A n alysis of the Fram ework Structure of
Chaucer's "C anterbu ry Tales”
Jens Kr. Andersen, U niversity of Copenhagen
The aims of this artiele are threefold: first, to examine the relationship be­
tween the framework and the pilgrims’ narratives in The Canterbury Tales
(hereafter: CT), i. e. between what happens on the pilgrimage and what
happens in the tales; second, to describe the role and the functions of the
narrator of the frame; and finally, as a kind of conclusion, to apply the
results of this examination to the question of Chaucer’s indebtedness to
Boccaccio’s D ecam eron, with special reference to the genre to which both
works belong, the frame story.
Most of these questions have been thoroughly discussed in the voluminous
and ever increasing body of Chaucerian scholarship. I hope, however, that
the following pages will throw new light upon at least some of these difficult
questions, first of all by treating as a whole what has hitherto mainly been
treated separately. References to books and articles dealing with the problems
to be considered here are found in the notes, which form a kind of annotated,
classified bibliography. Thus, the present artiele may be read as an independent study, as a review of Chaucerian research, or both. I must, however,
premise a remark to the effect that Ralph Baldwin, perhaps somewhat unfairly, bears the brunt of the criticism in the second part of this study unfairly because his views on the narrator’s role and functions have been
shared by a number of modern scholars who appear in the notes. The reason
for drawing attention to his study, after all, is that he has formulated his
views at great length and detail, and has insisted on them without compromise.
I
The framework and the tales are connected in five important ways.
1. The agreement made by Harry Bailly and his guests places a demand on
the tales:
180
Jens Kr. Andersen
O f aventures that w hilom han bifalls. (I(A )795),i
a demand for authenticity 2 All the storytellers explieitly obey this demand
(even the canon s yeornan who does not join until after it has been formulated!). In some cases the storytellers simply assure their audience that what
they relate is the truth, not fiction (The R e eve’s Tale I(A)3924, Sir Thopas
VII(B2)749, The M on k’s Tale VII(B2)1998, The Physician’s Tale VI(C)
155-7). In other cases reference is made to an informant known by the
storyteller ( The M an of L a w ’s Tale II(B1)131-3, The C lerk’s Tale IV(E)268, 31—2, 39—40). Frequently the scene of the tale is a locality which the
storyteller, we assume, knows initimately; thus the Shipman and the Merchant, as widely travelled people, can take the liberty of setting their tales in
comparatively remote parts (The M iller’s Tale I(A)3187, The R eeve’s Tale
I(A)3921-3, The C o o k ’s Prologue I(A)4343, The Shipman’s Tale VII(B2)1
(cf. VII(B2)214), Sir Thoaps VII(B2)719-20, The Pardoner’s Tale VI(C)
463, The Friar’s Tale III(D)1299, The Sum m oner’s Tale III(D) 1709-10,
The M erchant’s Tale IV(E)1245, The Canon’s Leom an’s Tale VIII(G)1012).
The authenticity of the tales is confirmed by a written source often being
referred to more or less precisely (The K night’s Tale I(A)859, later on specified in I(A)2293-4, Prologue to M elibee VII(B2)963-4, The M on k’s P ro­
logue VII(B2)1987, The M onk’s Tale VII(B2)2121, VII(B2)2248, cf. more­
over 2325—6, 2460—1, 2465, 2503, 2579, 2710, 2719—21, The Physician’s
Tale VI(C)1, The Clerk s Prologue IV(E)31, 40—3, The Franklin’s Prologue
V(F)709-13, The Second N un’s Tale VIII(G)24-5, The M anciple’s Tale IX
(H)106). The impression of the tales’ authenticity is finely confirmed by the
occasional hesitation of the storytellers about details or by their formulating
limits to their knowledge (The Man of L a w ’s Tale II(B1)241-2, The Sum­
m oner’s Tale III(D)1709-10, The Squire’s Tale V(F)7, 109, 301).
In this connection the edifying tales are exceptional, for here any claim of
authenticity is unnecessary. The listeners may be satisfied by hearing that the
action has taken place
[...] in A sye, in a greet citee,
A m onges Christene folk :[...] (V II(B2)488-9).
In this connection the edifying tales are exceptional, for here any claim of
connection with edification is explieitly denied; only the true spirit is passed
on to the listeners (VII(B2)943-8). This principle is transferred to the tale in
question (VII(B2)953-64). The parson goes one step further by calling all
Framework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales
181
the previous tales, which each storyteller had tried to make authentic, fables
(X(I)31-4). In his opinion the only real truth must be contained in a
“Moralitee and vertuous mateere” (X(I)38). For this reason The Tale of
M elibee, The Prioress’s Tale, and The Parson’s Tale escape the demand for
authenticity. A similar problem occurs in connection with the two fairy
tales, The Wife of Bath’s Tale and The Squire’s Tale as the fairy tale genre,
too, is incompatible with fulfilment of the authenticity demand.
CT would not, however, be what it is if one of the storytellers did not
parody the demand for authenticity observed elsewhere. The Nun’s Pnest
pronounces:
This storie is also trewe, I undertake,
As is the book o f Launcelot de Lake,
That w om m en holde in ful greet reverence. (VII(B2)3211-3).
In the notes of his CT edition, J. M. Manly refers to Hinckley’s statement
that the author of the Launcelot novel was not taken seriously by his contemporaries, and that his work was not regarded as trustworthy.3
2. Though the tales are motivated in the framework by the agreement of
Harry Bailly and the pilgrims to teil stories, there are other justifications
that emerge spontaneously in some cases - from the Creative dynam tcs of the
fram ework. I am thinking of the quarrels arising in the framework between
representatives of different professions, resulting in both parties telling a tale
wherein a representative of the opponent’s profession is described as a
fool, a villain, or both.4 5 The scene is set for three such quarrels.
The one between the Cook and Harry Bailly is announced (I(A)4358-62)
but not followed up or completed; the quarrels between the Miller and the
Reeve, and between the Friar and the Summoner are, however. The Millerand-Reeve’s begins in The M iller’s Prologue (I(A)3141-66) and is contmued
in The R eeve’s Prologue (I(A)3859-66, 3909-20). The Friar-and-Summoner’s begins in The Wife of Bath’s Prologue (III(D)832-49), is contmued in
The Friar’s Prologue (III(D)1265-8, 1278-85, 1290-5), where both parties
repeat their threats, and is completed in The Sum moner’s Prologue, where
the Summoner once more repeats his threat, and puts forward his vision of
the friars in “the develes ers” (III(D)1705). Moreover, they both interrupt
each other’s tales (III(D)1332-3, 1761-2).
182
Jens Kr. Andersen
n these four tales the hostile attitude persists. The professions of the
con icting characters are often mentioned, and as a rule a derogatory term
is attached in some way or other. In The M iller’s Tale the carpenter (the
eeve is a carpenter, cf. I(A)614) is silly I(A)3299-3300, 3423 3601
36 14 ) and a cuckold (I(A)3850), in The R ee ve ’s Tale the miller is proud
( ( )4313) and false (I(A)4318) besides being a drunkard (I(A)4149-50) a
thief! (I(A)3995-6, 4092-3), and a cuckold (I(A)4317), in The F ria fs Tale
e Summoner is sly (III(D)1322), mad (III(D)1327), false (III(D)1338)
venomous (III(D)1408), interfering (III(D)1409), a thief (III(D)1338) and
a chatterbox (III(D)1407), who deserves Hell (III(D)1640-1), and in The
Sum m oner’s Tale the friar is labelled as lecherous (III(D) 1802-5). Thus, the
tales emanate from a stimulus in the framework, but refer back to the framework, being weapons in the dispute:
Thus have I quit the m iller in my tale. (I(A )4324).6
According to the same structural principle, the tales of what has been
called the “marriage group” - i.e. the Tales of The Wife of Bath, The Clerk,
The M erchant, and The Franklin, perhaps also those of The Man of Law,
M elibee, and The N un’s Priest - have been linked together, the Creative
dynamics of the framework being not a quarrel, but, what is structurally
similar, a debate, namely on dominance in marriage.7
3. The third relationship between the framework and the tales is the interdependence of the storytellers ’ ranks and their literary tastes* in the manner
expressed by the storytellers, partly through the literary genres they use for
their tales, partly through their evaluations of the others’ tales and through
their aesthetic creeds.
Concurrently with the literary genre chosen by the storyteller the metre he
employs must be considered. Before proceeding we must, however, solve this
problem: Is it at all reasonable in the field of fiction to ascribe the choice of
metre to the mdividual storyteller - is not the narrator of the framework its
onginator?9 One passage speaks for the latter concept: the Man of Law
declares:
I speke in prose, and lat fChaucer] rymes make. (II(B1)96)
- and The M an o f L aw 's Tale is in verse. This is, however, due to the wellknown faet that The Tale of M elibee was originally assigned to him.10 A
183
Fram ework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales
number of passages, on the other hand, contradict this view. With the Man
of Law’s declaration fresh in our minds we pass on to the parson’s remark:
I wol yow telle a myrie tale in prose (X(I)46)
- and The Parson’s Tale is in prose. The same applies to the passage where
the narrator of the framework is himself going to contribute to the entertainment. Harry Bailly criticizes the verses in Sir Thopas, and the narrator says,
I w ol yow telle a litel thyng in prose, (V II(B2)937)
which he — as did the parson — actually does.11 Moreover, the storytellers
explicitly State three times that they are relating in verse, using the word
“ryme” {The Knight’s Tale I(A)1459, Prologue to Sir Thopas VII(B2)709,
The Canon’s Yeom an’s Tale VIII(G)1093). I conclude that we may ascribe
Ten den cy
amusem ent
G enre
fabliaux
heroic couplets
fairy tales
heroic couplets
m yth/fairy tale
fairy tale/short
story
heroic couplets
heroic couplets
short stories
fable
rom ances
f
of chivalry jparody
edification
M etre
[ strophic
[ heroic couplets
heroic couplets
heroic couplets
strophic
legends
strophic
exem pla
heroic couplets
collection of
exem pla
didacties in short
story form
sermon
strophic
T ale
M iller
Reeve
Cook
Shipman
Friar
Summ oner
M erchant
W ife o f Bath
Squire
M anciple
Franklin
Clerk
C anon’s Yeom an
N u n ’s Priest
Knight
Sir Thopas
f Man o f Law
Prioress
1 Second N un
[ Physician
1 Pardoner
M onk
(prose)
M elibee
(prose)
Parson
184
Jens Kr. Andersen
the verse form to the individual storyteller: within the fiction the pilgrims
narrate in verse!
The table on p. 183 shows the tendency, genre, and metre of the tales .12
efore drawing conclusions from the table, we must note that some of the
storytellers themselves comment on the genre of their tale, in one case also
on its metre. Thus the Monk calls his tale(s) “tragedies”, which he defines in
e ta i, stating criteria regarding both form and content (VII(B2)1971-81).
A moment later, however, he calls his tale(s) “Ensamples” (VII(B2)1998).
The Franklin speaks of his contribution as a “lay” dealing with “aventure”
(V(F)710), and the Second Nun of hers as a “legende” (VIII(G)25)
From the table we can conclude that:
(a) Apart from by artisans, fabliaux are told only by the Friar, whose con­
cept of the tales that should be told differs greatly from that of the other
ecclesiastics (cf. IV(D)1274-7) and who is here, furthermore, using his
tale polemically.
(b) Fairy tales are told by members of the middle classes.
(c) The romance of chivalry is told by a knight, the parody by a person who
is well-informed about literature of chivalry (and who, when later writmg down the tale, prefaces it with a quotation from Statius. About the
narrator’s realm, see later).
(d) The edifying tales are told by well-read people, some of them ecclesias­
tics.
(e) Only leamed and ecclesiastical persons make use of strophic metres.
(d) And (e) might be said to be linked as it is quite possible that the metre
has been induced by the genre (or the text belonging to the genre) which the
storyteller has chosen. It is obvious, however, that there exists a relationship
between the social level of the storytellers and the literary genre of their
tales. Each class has its literary taste.
This can be confirmed by an examination of the evaluating comments in
the circle provoked by a certain tale. The Knight’s tale is met with general
approval (I(A)3110-2), especially from “the gentils” (I(A)3113). On the
Miller s tale opinions differ, even if it has made the pilgrims laugh (I(A)
3855-7). The Cook is amused by the Reeve’s tale (I(A)4325-7), but the
Knight and lady free” do not, of course, consent to the parody of the
romance of chivalry (VII(B2)891-2). The Franklin praises the Squire’s tale,
which has caused his “great deyntee” (V(F)673-6, 381). Moreover, a def-
Fram ework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales ”
185
inite section of the party is biased against fabliaux. The narrator of the
framework calls the Miller’s contribution a “cherles tale” (I(A)3169), and
what the Miller and the Reeve relate is judged:
And harlotrie they tolden bothe two. (I(A)3184).13
When the Pardoner is going to narrate, he is warned:
But right anon thise gentils gonne to crye,
“Nay! lat hym telle us o f no ribaudye! (V I(C )323-4),
and finally the Man of Law consents to the exclusion of anything lascivious.
(O f sw iche cursed stories I sey fy!) (II(BX)80).
4. A twofold tendency —due to a twofold need —has left its mark on the
tales. Certainly, the travellers tell stories in order to pass time, but they are
pilgrims, too, on their way to the tomb of St. Thomas Becket; certainly, one
may speak of a need for amusement, but at the same time of a need for
edificationM The distinction has, furthermore, been explieitly formulated
through the demand for “best sentence and moost solaas (I(A)798). From
the table on p. 183 it is seen that the tales of amusement are twice as
numerous as the tales of edification (the ratio is sixteen to eight). However,
in the framework, as will be shown, there is a general disposition in favour
of edification. This disproportion might have been eliminated if CT had been
finished.
In one passage (VI(B2)935) Harry Bailly wants either a piece of amuse­
ment (“som murthe”) or a piece of edification (“som doctryne”) to be put
forward, that is after Sir Thopas which he has not been able to appreeiate,
and which is, in his opinion, neither the one nor the other. Besides, he incessantly calls for a merry tale (VII(B2)2811-5, VI(C)319, IV(E)7-15,
V (F )l-3, X(I)20-1). He even openly prefers amusement to edification
(IV(E)12-3). But Harry Bailly differs from the rest of the party: he is not
there for his edification, he has joined for the sake of amusement and profit;
he is no pilgrim. The question is, then, to which degree the others support
him. Only two of them explieitly express a similar preference, the Shipman
and - the Friar (II(Bi)1176-87, III(D)1274-7).
Both sides maintain that the respective needs are shared by the whole
party (VII(B2)937-40, IV(E)9-11). Who is right? In my opinion this ques­
tion is finally answered by the following two passage:
186
Jens Kr. Andersen
But right anon thise gen tils gonne to crye,
Nay! lat hym telle us o f no ribaudye!
T elle us som m oral thyng, that w e may leere
S om w it, and thanne w ol we gladly heere.” (V I(C )323-6).
And after the Parson has pronouneed that, if the party wants him to, he will
put forward a “Moralitee and vertuous mateere” (X(I)38), this is the
reaction:
U pon this word we han assented soone,
A nd bade oure H oost he sholde to hym seye
That a lle we to telle his tale him preye. (X(I)61, 65-6).
Harry Bailly has been defeated, though adds,
But hasteth yow , the sonne w ole adoun; (X(I)70)!
5.
The last relationship between the framework and the tales is the individual
sto ry te lle rs colouring of his tale.™ Such an (overt) dependence becomes
possible where the storyteller tells of himself, e. g. Harry Bailly (VII(B2)
1889-1923, IV(E)2419-40). According to the agreement he is to teil no
tale, thus, we may leave him out of consideration. Like Harry Bailly, the
Pardoner and the Franklin give some details of their private lives (III(D)166,
V(F)682-94, respectively), but no interplay exists between this and their
tales. The Merchant has been saddled with a wife who is “a shrewe at al”
(IV(E)1222), which clearly inspires him to teil about a wife’s wickedness
(IV(E)1241—4). The Canon s Yeoman is inspired by his own sad experiences
as an alchemist’s assistant (VIII(G)967-71). An exceptional contrast exists
between the Pardoner’s prologue and his tale: in the latter, the edification
he teaches ex officio is put forward, in the former, his intentions and means,
so that the merits of his tale have been disavowed in advance:
A nd [I] telle an hundred false japes m oore. (VI(C)394).
The most subtle and profound connection between a storyteller and his tale
appears in The Wife of Bath s Prologue and Tale, both containing the same
idea, woman’s dominance over man, and kindred sequences.ie The prologue
begins with the good woman’s reflections on marriage and her views thereon.
In this non-narrative passage the principle of the wife’s superiority to her
husband is laid down as follows:
Fram ework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales”
187
An housbonde I w ol have, I wol nat lette,
W hich shal be bothe my dettour and my thral,
A nd have his his tribulacion withal
U pon his flessh, whil that I am his wyf.
I have the pow er durynge al my lyf
U pon his propre body, and noght he. (III(D )154-9).
After this she begins the account of her five marriages. If we follow this
narrative passage the Wife of Bath’s main theme, woman’s dominance over
man, we can distinguish three phases to the sequence, namely
a) woman’s superiority upheld (III(D)175, 211-4, 219, 489)
b) woman’s superiority denied (III(D)630-6)
c) woman’s superiority restored (III(D)808-21).
Passing from the Wife of Bath’s prologue to her tale, we discover a remark­
able isomorphism. The principle of woman’s dominance over man is formulated here, too,
“W om m en desiren to have sovereynetee
As wel over hir housbond as hir love,
And for to been in m aistrie him above. (III(D )1038-40, cf. 1261-2).
In the narration we find only two of the three phases mentioned above.
These two being, however, the final ones, the ending and the point of the
prologue and of the tale remain identical,
b) woman’s superiority denied (III(D)888)
c) woman’s superiority restored (III(D)1054-5, 1070-2, 1230-8).
II
The narrator of the framework participates in the pilgrimage, which could
create problems. In this connection it may be fruitful to focus on R. Baldwin’s study of CT,17 notably Ch. 4, The Poet and the Pilgrim. A. The
N arrative Voice (pp. 67-74).
Baldwin’s starting point is the supposed existence of what he calls a
“deliberate artistic dualism of Chaucer the Pilgrim and Chaucer the Poet
[...,] a double identity [..., a] defiance of the usual voice manipulation
[...,] a confusion of categories [...]” (p. 67). The categories which Chaucer according to Baldwin - mixes up are two separate points of view, that of the
first person, which is bound to the knowledge of the present observer, and
188
Jens Kr. Andersen
that of the Olympian, omniscient, third-person narrator. Chaucer cannot still according to Baldwin - introduce the pilgrims the way he does (stating
details he cannot possibly have registered on the evening they met at “The
Tabard”) without denying his identity as a first-person narrator. In CT a
dual distance and facile handling of [...] Long and Short Views” (p. 69) is
employed, Chaucer being at the same time “pilgrim”, and thus a firstperson narrator, and ‘poet”, and thus a third-person, Olympian, omniscient
narrator and commentator. “The space-bound and time-bound Pilgrim
Chaucer is so only when it is convenient for him to be so” (p. 70).18
I do not find Baldwin’s view tenable, and I suggest that the reason for his
false deductions lies in his starting-point. Contrary to the double identity,
“Chaucer the Pilgrims” vs. “Chaucer the Poet” asserted by him, I think we
must grasp the identity of “Chaucer the Pilgrims” and “Chaucer the Poet”
as being of fundamental importance to the structure of CT.19 I f we examine
lines I(A)31-42 of The Prologue, we find this identity clearly revealed. The
same narrator first appears as a member of the party, as a pilgrim,
So hadde I spoken with hem evrichon
That / was o f hir felaw eshipe anon, (I(A )31-2),
and then as the narrator, who freely turns to his reader,
[...] ther as / yow devyse.
M e thynketh it accordaunt to resoun,
T o telle yow [...] (I(A)34, 37-8).
And later on, when this narrator of the framework and pilgrim is to narrate,
and the spotlight therefore turns on him (Prologue to Sir Thopas, Prologue
to M elibee), he consistently refers to himself as “I ”. (Here the striking faet
should be noticed that the two tales which the narrator of the framework
himself contributes are the only ones whose titles do not contain the designation of their teller, but that of their main character.) With this identity it is
possible for him to pass on the knowledge he gained on the pilgrimage to the
reader - within the fiction of CT.
The assertion that I(A)42-714 are told by an Olympian narrator does not
hold, either. The narrator repeatedly shows his ignorance of details,
O f tw enty yeer o f age he was, 1 gesse. (I(A)82),
But, sooth to seyn, / n oot how men hym calle. (I(A)284),
F or aught I w oot, he was o f Dertem outhe. (I(A)389),
Fram ework Structure of Chaucer s “Canterbury Tales
189
and ends up The Prologue with the general reservation
A lso I prey yow to foryeve it me,
A l have I nat set folk in hir degree
H eere in this tale, as that they sholde stonde. (I(A )743-5).
My explanation is simple: the very same person who participates in the
pilgrimage has at a later date written down his account (still: within the
fiction).20 Thereby the identity between the narrator of the framework and
the pilgrim, as is quite explicit in the work, is retained. This would also
explain why details which the pilgrim cannot possibly have learned during
the first evening together are mentioned in the introduction of the other
pilgrims in I(A)42-714. When the first-person narrator writes of what he has
experienced on his way to Canterbury, he need not do so in the original
order. To the idea of two points of view alternatively and arbitrarily used, I
prefer the idea of two planes of tim e immanent in the work, the period of
perception and the period of com m itting to paper .21
Two qualities of the framework of CT seem to confirm this view. First, the
faet that the events in the framework are told in the past tense. The narrator
is conscious of telling something belonging to the past,
M e thynketh it accordaunt to resoun
T o telle yow al the condicioun
O f ech o f hem , so as it sem ed m e, (I(A )37-9).
Secondly, several passages indicate that the narrator is acquainted with
things not yet told,
A nd [we] m ade forward erly for to ryse,
T o take oure w ey, ther as 1 y o w devyse. (I(A )33-4).
E r that I ferth er in this tale pace,
M e thynketh it acordaunt to resoun
To telle y o w al the condicioun
A nd w hiche they weren, and o f what degree,
And eek in what array that they were inne;
And at a knight than w ol I first begynne. (I(A )36-8, 40-2).
But now is tym e to yow for to telle
H ow that w e baren us that ilke nyght,
And after w o l I telle o f our viage,
And al the rem enaunt o f oure pilgrimage. (I(A )720-1, 723-4).
190
Jens Kr. Andersen
But [the M ille re ] to ld e his cherles tale in his manere.
And therfore, w h o -so list it nat yheere,
Turne over the lee f and chese another tale;
F or he shal fy n d e ynow e, grete and smale,
O f storial thyng that toucheth gentillesse,
And eek m oralitee and hoolynesse.
A nd harlotrie they tolden bothe two. (I(A)3169, 3176-80, 3184).
Baldwin seems to have some difficulty in getting the historical Chaucer,
who is indisputably established in the fiction, in The Man of L aw ’s Introduc­
tion, fitted into his system based upon the duality of “Chaucer the Pilgrim”
vs. Chaucer the Poet”. “None of the pilgrims present identifies Chaucer the
Poet with Chaucer the Pilgrim [...] Yet there is an historical Chaucer, the
author with a reputation, a faet which he capitalizes upon boldly during the
course of the Tales [...] The insights gained at such intersections in the text
of the Pilgrim Chaucer and the historical Chaucer, engineered incognito by
the Poet Chaucer, allow for playfulness and arch-irony [...]” (p. 67). Still,
nothing prevents the assumption that the historical Chaucer “with a repu­
tation (Chaucer as a writer before CT) in the fiction is identical with the
narrator of the framework (Chaucer as the author of CT). As the identity of
the narrator of the framework and the pilgrim (Chaucer as an acting charac­
ter in CT) has been shown above, we consequently get (still within the
fiction of C T )
the historical Chaucer “with a reputation”
(Chaucer as a writer before CT)
=
the pilgrim
(Chaucer as an acting character in CT)
the narrator o f the framework
(Chaucer as the auth or o f CT),
the distinction between the periods when 1, 2, or 3 functions being strictly
observed. On this basis the “arch-irony” not further elaborated by Baldwin
can be explained. The quality in Chaucer which unites 1, 2 (as the narrator
of Sir Thopas and The Tale of M elibee ), and 3 is his poetic activity. If this
activity is evaluated on the basis of Chaucer regarded as 1, 2, or 3, the
reader’s awareness of the identity between Chaucer(l), Chaucer(2), and
Chaucer(3) is actuated. Thus when the Man of Law in his Introduction
Fram ework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales”
191
evaluates Chaucer(l), the joke within the situation is due to the faet that he
does so without knowing that Chaucer(l) = Chaucer(2), and the joke beyond
the situation that he does so without knowing that Chaucer(l) = Chaucer(3).
And when Harry Bailly in the Prologue to M elibee evaluates Chaucer(2),
the joke within the situation is correspondingly due to the faet that he does
so without knowing that Chaucer(2) = Chaucer(l) and beyond the situation
that he does so without knowing that Chaucer(2) = Chaucer(3).
As a postscript to these reflections on the problems regarding the narrator
in CT, three errors which Chaucer, or to be more explicit, Chaucer(3) must
have allowed to slip in without noticing ought first to be corrected,
But o f that storie list me nat to w ryte. (I(A)1201),
[...] this m ery tale I w ryte. (V II(B2)964),
That it were inpossible me to w ryte. (V(F)1549).
All verses are pronounced by pilgrim storytellers about their activity as such,
and “wryte” should of course be replaced by “telle” or “devyse”. Secondly,
it must be noted that I do not attach any structural significance to marginal
notes like “Heer bigynneth . . . ” and “Thus endeth . . . ” (in English or Latin)
or to the word “Auctor”. Most probably they are all the work af scribes (cf.
the contradiction IV(E)1176-7/1212-3).22
In the beginning of CT, Chaucer (still Chaucer(3)) puts forward an
aesthetic manifesto, a kind of realistic poetics, in which he promises to
reproduce what he has heard as precisely as he can, even if not all of it
is quite decorous (I(A)725-38, repeated I(A)3171-5). Hereby Chaucer(3)
has disclaimed the responsibility for fabliaux and coarse words in the conversation among the pilgrims. In the interest of versimilitude he compromises
with his own taste, which we have seen expressed in I(A)3167-70, 3182-4.
At the same time he consolidates the authenticity of the framework fiction.
Reading in this connection the last passage of CT, the “retractions”, i. e.
§ 104 of The Par son’s Tale,2S we see that Chaucer(3) assumes the respon­
sibility he has so scrupulously disclaimed in his “poetics”,
And if ther be any thyng that displese hem , I preye hem also that they
arrette it to the defau te o f m yn unkonnynge [...] (X(I)1082).
We may here speak of a certain “ideological” contradiction.
This last passage, however, constitutes a structural contradiction, too,
because a confusion of the separate temporal planes occurs. This is not a
192
Jens Kr. Andersen
confusion of identification type (cf. above), which as for Chaucer(l), (2),
and (3) was given in the fiction, but a transgression of the periods within
which each authority acts. There are three such confusions:
a) The Parson (the period of perception) is confused with Chaucer(3) (the
period of committing to paper),
N o w preye I to hem alle that herkne this titel tretys or rede [...] (X(I)1081).24
b) If we regard it as no mere coincidence that these “retractions” succeed
the Parson s tale and presume that the latter has thus brought about the
former,25 we get:
Chaucer(2) (the period of perception) is confused with Chaucer(3)
(the period of committing to paper), who pronounces,
![...] I revoke in my retracciouns: /[ ...] the tales o f Caunterbury, thilke that
sow nen into synne [...] (X (I)1085-6).
c) Chaucer(l) (the period of perception) is confused with Chaucer(3) (the
period of committing to paper),
[...] that Crist have m ercy on m e and foryeve me my giltes;/and nam ely, o f
m y translacions and endityngs o f w orldly vanitees, the which I revoke in my
retracciouns./as is the book o f Troilus [...] the tales o f C aun terbury, thilke that
sow nen into synne [...] and many another book [...] (X (I)1084-7).
Consequently, Baldwin is right in maintaining the existence of inner contradictions in CT (even if Chaucer’s centemporaries might not have thought
of them so). Contradictions both “ideological” and “formal” (regarding
narrative technique) are to be found in CT. Contrary to Baldwin’s assumption they are not due to confusion of points of view, but to confusion of
planes of time, and they do not appear - contrary to what Baldwin maintains - until the very last passage of the work.
III
The question of Chaucer’s indebtedness to Boccaccio’s D ecam eron has been
the subject of thorough and violent discussion, especially during the first
quarter of this century.2e In the following I shall consider the problem in the
Fram ework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales”
193
light of the above results. Before beginning, however, I must premise two
remarks as to the differences between my approach and that of the studies
mentioned in n. 26. Firstly, these studies were published at the height of
positivism, which clearly marks them, being largely enumerations of more
or less significant similarities or differences. Contrary to this, I have tried to
employ a more structural method that takes into account the entire unity of
the work. Secondly, partly as a consequence of the first remark, I have
focused my interest on the literary genre, the frame story,27 which regards the
interrelations between the framework and the tales as fundamantal, and
which obviates the establishing of “similarities” by paralleling a textual
element in the framework of one work with an element in a story/tale of
another.
The five relations between the framework and the tales, specific to CT,
will now be examined with regard to the Decameron:
ad 1: The dem and for authenticity of the tales told by the members of the
company is absent in Boccaccio’s work.
ad 2: In CT two types of Creative dynam ics in the fram ework were found,
quarrel and debate. The latter appears in the Decam eron in the form
of subjects common to all the stories of any one day, and in the form
of stories being told as counterparts or contrasts to the previous
story.
ad 3: The interdependence of the storytellers’ ranks and their literary tastes
plays no significant part in the Decam eron, the company there being
socially homogeneous.
ad 4: The discrepant tendencies of am usement and edification are not
found in the company of the Decam eron.
ad 5: Only one character of the D ecam eron, Dioneo, manifests the individual storyteller’s colouring of his tale. Inner characteristics of the
other members of the company are but few and sporadic, and are in
no case conveyed through stories told by them, but solely through the
narrative of the framework.
As far as the narrator’s role and functions are concerned, the Decameron,
too, is told by means of a “vision par derriére ” (see n. 21), the two temporal
planes of narrating and com m itting to paper being evidently employed. On
the other hand, the temporal plane anteeedent to those two (“Chaucer as a
writer before CT”) has no counterpart in the Decam eron, and, furthermore,
194
F ram ework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales”
the narrator of the Italian work does not participate in the fictitious plot
(that is why I have had to use the term “plane of narrating” instead of “plane
of perception”), but narrates at second hand, which appears explicitly from
the “epilogue” of the Sixth Day.
As the extrinsic evidence of Chaucer’s knowledge of the D ecam eron is so
inconclusive that it must be left out of account,28 and as the intrinsic
evidence of significant, structural similarity between the two works is almost
as slender as can be, I can only come to the conclusion that Chaucer’s
indebtedness to the Decam eron cannot convincingly be rendered probable.
What has been of theoretical and methodical importance to me in the
preceding study is this: the genre - in this case the frame story - chosen by
an author provides him with a number of “empty categories”29 into which
he may put all sorts of content. In the case of frame stories, these categories
are above all constituted by the interrelations between the framework and
the stories, and by the narrator’s role and function. Particular importance
must be attached to these “empty categories” and their content, which is
fundamentally specific to each work. When comparison, beyond an enumeration of insignificant similarities, is to be made between two works belonging
to the same genre, the individual content of the “empty category” must,
therefore, be the elements of the comparison, the categories themselves the
tertia comparationis.
1. All quotations from CT refer to F. N. Robinson (cd.), The Works of Geoffrey Chaucer,
London 19572.
2. This point has not been dealt with in any work known to me. In his artiele “Authenticating Realism and the Realism of Chaucer”, Thought xxxix 1964, pp. 335-58, Morton W.
Bloomfield notes, [The tales] too individually have their authenticating devices [...]”
(p. 349), but the aim of his artiele is quite different from mine here, in that he notably
wants to define the realism of CT as a whole.
3. Chaucer, Canterbury Tales, N. Y. 1928, London 1930, p. 642.
4. Frederick Tupper in an artiele called “The Quarrels of the Canterbury Pilgrims”, JEGP
xiv 1915, pp. 256—70, gives the socio-historical background of the quarrels. Tupper comes
to the conclusion that to various degrees the three quarrels mentioned below represent
a clash between traditionally hostile classes, rather than the chance encounter of individuals” (p. 270). For an intrinsic analysis of the quarrels, see Charles A. Owen, Jr.,
Moral ity as a Comic Motif in the Canterbury Tales”, College English xvi 1955,
pp. 226-32.
5. This and the following three relations between the frame and the tales may be said to
form the basis of the concept of the “dramatic principle” of CT. The “dramatic
principle” has been the basic view in a number of excellent analyses of CT, published in
Fram ework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales”
195
recent years, such as R. M. Lumiansky, Of Soundry Folk, Austin 1955 (sec. print. 1964);
Bertrand H. Bronson, In Search of Chaucer, Toronto 1960; Paul G. Ruggiers, The Art of
The Canterbury Tales, Madison and Milwaukee 1965; Bernhard F. Huppé, A Reading of
the Canterbury Tales, N. Y. 1964; and Trevor Whittock, A Reading of the Canterbury
Tales, Cambridge 1968. The idea of “dramatic structure” has been applied also to individual tales, e.g. by George Lyman Kittredge, the father of the concept, in “Chaucer’s
Pardoner”, The Atlantic Monthly lxxii 1893, pp. 829-33, R. M. Lumiansky, “The Meaning
of Chaucer’s Prologue to Sir Thopas”, Philological Quarterly xxvi 1947, pp. 313-20, and
Yataka Konagaya, “The Tale of Melibeus and Chaucer”, Studies in English Literature
xlii Tokyo 1965, pp. 13-8. It follows from these studies that the principle of “the Creative
dynamic of the framework” may be more broadly applied to CT than what I have done,
as I have confined it to the three overt quarrels and to the “marriage debate”. The
“drama” theory has not, however, been without opponents. In a controversy with Kittredge
(see n. 7) H. Liideke (Die Funktionen des Erzåhlers in Chaucers epischer Dichtung,
Halle 1928) has maintained that the characteristics of the tales were neither determined by
the rank and individuality of the storyteller nor by the situation on the highway, but by
the subject matter. That this view, reasonable in itself, does not affect Kittredge’s “drama”
theory was shown - indisputably as it seems - by J. R. Hulbert in “The Canterbury Tales
and their Narrators”, Studies in Philology xlv 1948, pp. 565-77. A later attack on the
theory was made by Robert M. Jordan, “Chaucer’s Sense of Illusion: Roadside Drama
Reconsidered”, ELH xxix 1962, pp. 19-33. Jordan asserts that to be able to explain a
number of inconsistencies left unexplained by the “drama” theory, the idea of CT as a
unified fiction containing consistently drawn “actors” must be abandoned in favour of a
“disillusioned” reading which concentrates on the author behind and his ironical play with
the fiction.
6. From Cornelius Novelli, “The Demonstrative Adjective This: Chaucer’s Use of a Colloquial Narrative Device”, Mediaeval Studies xix 1957, pp. 246-49, appears that this interplay
is discreetly emphasized by means of the frequent use of “this” (p. 248).
7. The “marriage debate” in CT must be regarded as a specific manifestation of the
“dramatic principle”. The theory of such a debate, running through a number of the
tales, was launched by George Lyman Kittredge in an outstanding pioneer study,
“Chaucer’s Discussion of Marriage”, Modern Philology ix 1912, pp. 435-67 (included in
his Chaucer and his Poetry, Cambridge, Harvard, London, Oxf. 1915, sec. print. 1920,
and repr. in Edw. Wagenknecht (ed.), Chaucer: Modern Essays in Criticism, N. Y., Oxf.
1959, pp. 188-215 and in Richard J. Schoeck and Jerome Taylor (ed.), Chaucer Criticism
I:The Canterbury Tales, London 1960, pp. 130-59). According to this article, the Wife
of Bath starts a dicussion by raising the problem of male vs. female dominance in marriage.
The Clerk, the Merchant, and the Host thereafter make their contributions, all under the
influence of the Wife and with references back to her prologue and tale. The Wife of
Bath’s Prologue and Tale, The Clerk’s Tale, The Merchant’s Tale, and the Host’s words
about his marital situation in the Epilogue to the Merchant’s Tale each descibe one type
of married life, the four types supplementing each other. The discussion is closed and the
problems solved in The Franklin’s Tale, which represents a kind of compromise of ideals
arising partly as an answer to the previous contributors, partly as an attempt to pick up
the “gentilesse” of the Squire, who had spoken immediately before him.
Since Kittredge’s day Chaucerian scholars dealing with the “marriage debate” have
worked mainly in two directions. Some scholars have extended the boundaries of the
“marriage group” marked out by Kittredge or modified his results. Others have completely
196
Jens Kr. Andersen
rejected his views. The form er group was first represented by William Witherle Lawrence
(“The M arriage G roup in the Canterbury Tales”, Modern Philology xi 1913, pp. 247-58,
included in his Chaucer and the Canterbury Tales, Oxf. 1950), who reliably argues in
favour of the inclusion of The Tale of Melibee and The Nun’s Priest’s Tale into the
m ariage group , The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale being taken to be an answer
to the latter and not, as Kittredge maintained, the starting point of the debate. Frederick
Tupper (“Saint Venus and the Canterbury Pilgrims”, The Nation xcvii 1913, pp. 354a-6b)
points out that Venus, being according to medieval astrology the goddess of travels as
well as of love, accounts for a common love theme, the existence of which makes the
marriage group theory seem fragmentary. Lawrence’s view was convincingly confirmed
by John S. Kenyon, “F urther Notes on the M arriage G roup in the Canterbury Tales”,
JEGP xv 1916, pp. 282-88. In recent years similar views have been advanced by Trevor
G. W hittock (“The M arriage D ebate” I—II, Theoria xiv-xv 1960, pp. 55-66 and 43-53 resp.)
and Bernhard F. Huppé (op. cit. n. 5), the latter of whom differs from Kittredge by
reading the Wife of Bath s Tale as a reply to The Man of Law’s Tale and regarding The
Nun’s Priest’s Tale - not The Franklin’s - as the solution of the m arriage problem. These
two revisions of Kittredge’s views have been followed up by Trevor G. W hittock (op. cit.
n. 5) and James L. Hodge (“The M arriage Group: Precarious Equilibrium ”, English
Studies xlvi 1965, pp. 289-300). Hodge furtherm ore points out certain connections between
The Shipman’s and The Squire's Tales and the “m arriage group”.
Among those who completely rejected Kittredge’s view is J. Koch (“Neuere ChaucerL iteratur , Englische Studien xlvi 1912, pp. 112-13), who puts forward a series of other
instances of m arital problems in CT, unfortunately, however, on the basis of a misunderstanding of Kittredge’s “marriage theme”. Henry Barrett Hinckley, “The Debate on
M arriage in the Canterbury Tales”, PMLA xxxii 1917, pp. 292-305 (repr. in W agenknecht
1959, pp. 216-25) comes to the conclusion that the “mariage debate” “amounts to this:
Both Wife and M erchant discuss matrimony [...] but without taking issue one with
another; and the Merchant takes issue with the Clerk, not so much as to m atrimony as
concerning the sincerity and virtue of women”. (p. 304). Thus, the central placing of the
Wife is denied, and the M erchant and the Franklin are asserted not to have entered into
discussion with her, their tales showing no allusions to her prologue or tale, which, as
has been pointed out by Huppé, they actually do, viz. in vv. IV(E)1670, 1685-87,
V(F)747-49, 768-69. The last representative of this group is Clifford P. Lyons (“The
M arriage Debate in the Canterbury Tales”, ELH ii 1935, repr. 1966, pp. 252-62) who
admits a kinship of theme within the “marriage group”, but denies the existence of a
debate, realized as such by the pilgrims.
The reading of the “marriage group” is clearly dependent on the order of the fragments.
Thus both Lawrence and Hinckley suggest a re-arrangement of the fragments in support
of their respective views, and the analyses of Tupper, Huppé, Hodge, and W hittock have
the Ellesmere order as their necessary basis.
8. A n interesting account of the class system of the Chaucerian universe can be found in
D. S. Brewer, “Class-Distinction in Chaucer”, Speculum xliii 1968, pp. 290-305, which does
not, however, treat the function of the various classes within the fiction of CT.
9. This question has not been touched on by any Chaucerian scholar known to me.
10. Cf. e. g. Lumiansky (op. cit. n. 5) p. 10, Huppé (op. cit. n. 5) p. 91, and Konagaya (op. cit.
n. 5) p. 13.
11. From these facts Wilhelm Ewald (Der Humor in Chaucers Canterbury Tales, Halle 1911)
has deducted some highly curious conclusions (pp. 9-15).
Fram ework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales
197
12 Of course such a classification represents only an approximation, being in the last resort
a matter of opinion, which has been emphasized by the two scholars who have previously
concerned themselves with a grouping of the tales in genres, Robert O. Payne (The K ey of
Remembrance: A Study of Chaucer’s Poetics, New Haven and London 1963, pp. 147-70)
and Ruggiers (op. cit. n. 5, p. 47). The greatest divergencies between their classification
and mine are the following: Payne assigns the Tales of both The Knight, The Wife of
Bath, The Squire, and The Franklin to the category “romance11, and has a number of
tales’ that defy inclusion in his system, The Tale of Melibee, The M onk’s Tale, and The
Canon s Yeoman’s Tale being “anomalies” and The Friar’s and The Merchant’s Tales being
“satire,” “which is [as Payne rightly remarks] after all not a formal distinction” (p. 15 ).
Romance, legend, and fablieau, being the most employed genres, are now focused, and a
connection between these and three kinds of love - courtly, divine, and an.mal - is
established, after which the whole analysis is strongly modified. Ruggiers stresses the
serious tendency in more cases than I, assigning The Manciple’s Tale to the category
“fable with moral comment” and the Tales of The Friar and The N u n s Priest to
“preacher’s exempla”.
13. Italics in the CT text - here and in the following - are mine.
14. This dichotomy is the subject of Arthur W. Hoffman, “Chaucer’s Prologue to Pilgrimage:
The Two Voices”, ELH xxi 1954, pp. 1-16 (repr. in Wagenknecht 1959, pp. 30-45, and in
Charles A. Owen, Jr. (ed.), Discussions of the Canterbury Tales, Boston 1961, pp. 9-17).
Cf furthermore the article by G. D. Josipovici, “Fiction and Game m The Canterbury
Tales”, Critical Quarterly vii 1965, pp. 185-97, the starting point of which is, “Whenever
we turn in The Canterbury Tales we are faced with a conflict between the moral and the
immoral, the edifying and the unedifying, the religious and the secular”. (p. 185) and
Ruggiers’s statement, “[...] the Canterbury Tales provides [...] a broad range of opinion
between the two poles of secular and religious sentiment”. (op. cit. n. 5, p. 10, cf. p. 43).
15. Lumiansky’s book (op. cit. n. 5) has been built up around this question. He investigates
the various ways the teller has been suited to his tale. Lumiansky puts forward three
such types, “simple suiting of tale and teller,” e. g. the Squire, “simple suiting of tale and
teller plus an externally motivated dramatic situation” (= what I have called the
“Creative dynamics of the framework”), e. g. the Friar and the Summoner, and “simple
suiting of tale and teller, plus an externally motivated dramatic situation, plus intemally
motivated and extended self-revelation of which the teller is not fully aware, e. g. the
Wife of Bath. The conclusion of the book consists in a distribution of all the tales among
those three categories. In his essay “The Satiric Pattern of The Centerbury Tales”, in
Six Satirists (Carnegie Series in English ix), Pittsburgh 1965, pp. 17-34, Norman Knox
points out as the basis of the irony in CT the contradiction between what some tellers
utter in their prologues and what is revealed in their tales.
16. To regard the question of structural similarity in terms of kindred sequences seems to be
a new approach to the problem. The studies that have dealt with the connection between
The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale may be divided into two groups. Some critics
accept the Tale as a demonstration of the views put forward in the Prologue (woman s
sovereignty), others maintain that what is essential to the Tale is something different
from the “sovereignty” manifesto. To the first group belong Walter Clyde Curry
(Chaucer and the Mediaeval Sciences, N. Y., Oxf. 1926, repr. in Wagenknecht 1959,
pp. 166-87) who besides, according to medieval astrology, regard the Wife as a product
of the double astral constellation of Mars and Venus, under which she was born; thus her
Tale becomes an expression of the Venerian trait in her psyche; and Huppé (“Rape and
198
Jens Kr. Andersen
Woman’s Sovereignty in the Wife of Bath’s Tale”, M L N Ixiii 1948, pp. 378-81, and op. cit.
n. 5), who stresses the unifying rape theme.
The second group is represented by Lumiansky (op cit. n. 5), who asserts that the real
point of the Tale differs from the manifesto of the Prologue, the knight gaining his
happiness not because he has handed over the sovereignty to his bride, but because he
deserves it as a repentant sinner; and by Whittock (op. cit. n. 7, and op. cit. n. 5), Willene
van Loenen Pursell (Love And Marriage in Three English Authors: Chaucer, Milton &
El,ot, Stanford 1963, pp. 3-16), and Rose A. Zimbardo (“Unity and Duality in The Wife
of Bath’s Prologue and Tale”, Tenessee Studies In Literature xi 1966, pp. 11-16), who are
all - with individual modifications - of opinion that the meaning of the Tale is,’probably
without the Wife being aware of it, a condemnation of “sovereignty” as such, in favour
of a man tal ideal of mutual love and respect. Cf. moreover Margaret Schlauch “The
Mantal Dilemma in the Wife of Bath’s Tale”, PMLA lxi 1946, pp. 416-30.
17. Ralph Baldwin, The Unity of the Canterbury Tales, Copenhagen 1955 (of which extracts
have been repr. in Schoeck and Taylor 1960; pp. 14-51 and 54-7 have been repr. in
Owen 1961, pp. 25-7.
18. The idea of the shifting points of view is shared by the following scholars, Ben Kimpel
(“The Narrator of the Canterbury Tales”, ELH xx 1953, pp. 77-86), Edgar Hill Duncan
( Narrator s Point of View in the Portrait-Sketches, Prologue to the Canterbury Tales”,
in Essays in Honor of Walter Clyde Curry, Nashville 1954, pp. 77-101), Rosemary Woolf
(“Chaucer as a Satirist in the General Prologue t the Canterbury Tales”, Critical
Quarterly i 1959, pp. 150-57), John M. Major (“The Personality of Chaucer the Pilgrim”
PM LA Lxxv 1960, pp. 160-2), Robert M. Jordan (op. cit. n. 5), Ch. Muscatine (“The
Canterbury Tales: Style of the Man and Style of the Work”, in D. S. Brewer (ed )
Chaucer and Chaucerians, London 1966, pp. 88-113; p. 108), Trevor G. Whittock (op. cit’.
n. 5), and Dieter Mehl (“Erscheinungsformen des Erzåhlers in Chaucers Canterbuiy Tales”,
in Chaucer und seine Zeit. Symposion fiir Walter F. Schirmer, Tubingen 1968, pp. 189206). Woolf, Major, and Jordan see a distinction between the narrator and the “real” poet
Geoffrey Chaucer; however, they identify the Olympic, omniscient voice with that of the
author. Kimpel and Mehl without ceremony identify the narrator with Geoffrey Chaucer,
taking into account one (ironical) narrator only. (I have found it most reasonable to
include Kimpel here even though he seems to be somewhat self-contradictory as to this
question, compare p. 80 n. 12 and p. 82 at the bottom.)
Another problem, partly inseparable from that of the consistency of the point of view,
is that of the narrator’s personality. It has been generally acknowledged that such a
personality can rightly be ascribed to the narrator, who is then characterized as an
obtuse, naive, snobbish, and gregarious person (E. Talbot Donaldson, “Chaucer the
Pilgrim”, PM LA lxix 1954, pp. 928-36, repr. in Schoeck and Taylor 1960, pp. 1-13, and
in Owen 1961, pp. 18-24, cf. Donaldson’s commentary in his Chaucer’s Poetry. An
Anthology for the Modern Reader, N. Y. 1958, pp. 877-78; Charles A. Owen, Jr., op. cit.
n. 4; R. M. Lumiansky op. cit. n. 5; Rosemary Woolf, op cit. above; Bernhard F Huppé
op. cit. n. 5; G. D. Josipovici, op. cit. n. 14; E. Talbot Donaldson, Speaking of Chaucer\
London 1970, pp. 46-64). Contrary to this view and partly in controversy with the
scholars just mentioned, Ben Kimpel (op. cit. above), John M. Major (op. cit. above), and
Peter Wallace Heidtmann (The Chaucerian Narrator, unpubl. doet. diss. 1965 see
Dissertation Abstracts xxv, Michigan 1965, pp. 5905-6) have considered the narrator as
an mferior character, dimly and inconsistently drawn, and of little importance to the
fiction.
Fram ework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales”
199
The question of the point of view and that of the narrator’s personality have been
related to each other by R. M. Lumiansky (op. cit. n. 5) and John M. Major (op. cit.
above). The former pointed out the narrator’s gregariousness as a necessary qualification
for his acting as the reporter of the pilgrimage, the latter maintained that if the narrator
had been so abundantly provided with definite characteristics as presumed by the scholars
mentioned above, he would have narrated in his own voice all the time.
19. It must be strongly stressed here that throughout the following analysis I am working
within the fictional framework. Thus, speaking of “Chaucer the Poet" (and his identity
with “Chaucer the Pilgrim”) I refer solely to the fictitious first-person narrator, and I
presuppose the fundamental separation of the narrator from the “real Geoffrey Chaucer.
The latter view has been shared by the majority of scholars, whereas it has been rejected
by others, besides by Kimpel and Mehl as mentioned in n. 18, by Bronson (op. cit. n. 5)
who denies the possibility of such a separation because of the widespread tradition of
oral delivery of poems at Chaucer’s time, and by Ruggiers (op. cit. n. 5) because of the
narrator’s foreshadowing of events future to his present situation in the fiction. As to this
question, see below.
20. As an apparent contradiction of his general opinion of shifting points of view, Duncan
(op. cit. n. 18) states, “Since the whole of the General Prologue and all the links are cast
in the preterite tense, it would be sufficient to assume that, within the fictional frame­
work, the Narrator by the time he came to write, as author, his account of the imagined
pilgrimage had discovered, by observation, conversation, the pilgrims’ tales, their selfconfessions, etc., all the details which he chose to include omnisciently in the introductory
sketches. It is not beyond the bounds of possibility, perhaps of likelihood, that had the
CT been completed instead of being left as a series of tantalizingly ill-connected and
incomplete fragments, all these details would have been again presented unomnisciently in
the course of the connecting links", (p. 91 n. 38). Cf. furthermore Huppé (op. cit. n. 5)
and Ruggiers (op. cit. n. 5), who register the narrator’s foresight and foreshadowing of
future events without letting this faet imply a shifting point of view. Finally, Baldwin
himself (op. cit. n. 17) seems to be what on the premises of the present study must be
called on the right track, writing about “[...] the use made of tense to convey a kind of
retrospective total acquaintance. [...] Every one of the pilgrims is introduced, uniformly,
in the past tense: [...] all past in terms of the auctorial present of the Story as it is being
written". (p. 55). If Baldwin had held on to this, I believe that no problems as to point(s)
of view would have arisen for him. Unfortunately, however, the outlines soon get
blurred when he goes on, “The figures are not only depicted as past in respect to the
pilgrimage, but there is a curious [sie!] achronistic, placeless montage of past, present and
future, on one hand, and Tabard and road on the other.” (ibid.). From here Baldwin has
been brought directly to his false deductions, “By the interchange of the personalities of
Pilgrim and Poet, Chaucer has expanded the first person narrator to omniscience, happily
oblivious of the boundaries of the point of view of the first person. It is not merely a
drastic compression of time and, in faet, the reckless confluence of past, present and
future [sic!], nor the extension of space purlieus to ubiquity. It is in its apparent artlessness
an artful denial of the determinants of voice”. (p. 70).
21. This is what Jean Pouillon, in his work Temps et roman from 1946, has called “vision
par derriére” (contrary to “vision avec” by which the narrator is debarred from fore­
shadowing fictionally future events). Cf. the account of the temporal relations in the
first-person narrative in Bertil Romberg, Studies in the Narrative Technique of the FirstPerson Novel, Lund 1962, pp. 95-117, which distinguishes between“[...] two temporal
200
Jens Kr. Andersen
planes or dimensions: the present [...] and the past [...]” (p. 96), “[...] the plane of
narration and the plane of action
(p. 113), corresponding to Leo Spitzer’s “erzahlendes Ich vs. “erlebendes Ich” (see p. 95). These French theories of temporal points
of view seem to have been unknown to all English and American scholars who have
treated the point of view problems in CT. The two temporal planes mentioned above are of
course essential to the greater part of first-person narrative; Baldwin’s deductions on this
point also are somewhat misconstrued; he writes, “[...] this dual distance and the facile
handling of his Long and Short Views. This is a rare combination of voice in literature”.
(p. 69, cf. p. 67). Furthermore, Duncan (op. cit. n. 18), who works on the same premises
as Baldwin, mentions a series of counterparts.
22. The impossibility of proving that these notes are Chaucer’s has been commonly agreed
upon, cf. e. g. Bloomfield op. cit. n. 2, p. 353.
23. The question as to the authenticity of the retractions, which has been discussed by many
Chaucerian scholars, has in modern time been answered in the affirmative; see James D.
Gordon, “Chaucer’s Retraction: A Review of Opinion”, in Studies in Medieval Literature.
In Honor of Professor Albert Croll Baugh, Philadelphia 1961, pp. 81-96. The authenticity
fixed, the next question has been that of the connection between the retractions and the
rest of CT. James A. Work (“Chaucer’s Sermon and Retractions”, M LN xlvii 1932, pp.
257-59) argues in favour of the independence of both The Parson’s Tale and the retrac­
tions, whereas a series of recent studies (Lawrence, Chaucer and the Canterbury Tales,
Oxf. 1950; Kimpel, op. cit. n. 18; Ruggiers, op. cit. n. 5), like the present one, emphasize
that the retractions are not fictitious, the “real” Geoffrey Chaucer appearing here. Some
additional light may have been thrown on the problem by A. P. Campbell, “Chaucer’s
Retraction: Who Retracted What?”, Humanities Association Bulletin xvi 1965, pp. 75-87,
which has unfortunately been unavailable to me, both in Denmark and abroad.
24. The question may be asked whether the oral delivery of literature common at Chaucer’s
time (see Bronson, op. cit. n. 5, and Whittock, op. cit. n. 5), disposes of this point. I
venture, however, to agree with Jordan’s objection, “The moment of recitation was not
the initial stage of the poem’s life; the poem was originally written on paper and in
solitude. There is no reason why the reader cannot imagine, while reading, the same kind
of social situation that the poet imagined while writing. [...] It should also be remembered
that oral delivery by Chaucer himself would not have been the only means of making the
poetry available, even during Chaucer’s lifetime. [...] since - irrespective of question of
causality - the poem retains an incomparable vitality, even in print, I think we need not
preface every critical observation with “oral delivery”.” (op. cit. n. 5, p. 21 n 3)
25. The assumption has been made also by Baldwin (op. cit. n. 17) and Ruggiers (op cit n 5)
26. In this century the debate was opened by Pio Rajna, “Le origini della novella narrata dal
Frankelyn” nei Canterbury Tales del Chaucer”, Romania xxxii 1903, pp. 204-67. He
maintains Chaucer’s indebtedness on the basis of the arbiter common to the Decameron
and CT and the likeness of The Franklin’s Tale to Dec. X, 5. His basic view was shared
by Eduard Fueter, “Die Rahmenerzåhlung bei Boccaccio und Chaucer”, Beilage zur
Allgemeinen Zeitung, nos. 265-6, pp. 305-7 and 315-6 resp., which takes Boccaccio’s
influence for granted, but the aim of which is a revaluation of Dec. in preference to
CT, - and by Lorenz Morsbach, “Chaucers Plan der Canterbury Tales und Boccaccios
Decameron”, Englische Studien xlii 1910, pp. 43-52, and Robert K. Root, “Chaucer and
the Decameron”, Englische Studien xliv 1911, pp. 1-7, who find the decisive similarities
to be four common traits of the frameworks and the “mock apologies” resp. In his
artiele “Boccaccio and the Plan of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales”, Anglia xxxvii 1913, pp.
Fram ework Structure of Chaucer’s “Canterbury T ales”
201
69-117 John S P. Tatlock denies Chaucer’s dependence on D ec. but maintains the
influence of the Questioni-e pisode in Boccaccio’s F ilocolo and the nymph scene in his
A m eto . The influences of D ec. and A m eto on CT are rejected by Hubert M. Cummings,
The Indebtedness o f Chaucer’s W orks to the Italian W orks of Boccaccio (Cincinnati
U niversity studies x, pt. 2, 1916, repr. N. Y. 1965). The theory of indebtedness was
restored on the basis of an abundance of far-fetched similarities by Hertha Korten,
Chancers literarische Beziehungen zu Boccaccio, Rostock 1920. Root soon tumed his back
on the idea of Boccaccian influence on CT (The P oetry of Chaucer, Boston, N. Y„
Chicago, S. Francisco 19222), and it was re-rejected by W. F. Schinner, “Boccaccios
Werke als Quelle G. Chaucers”, G erm anisch-romanische M onatsschrift xn 1924, pp. 288305. In 1934, Morsbach again entered the controversy, holding on to his former views
and repudiating contrary views that had appeared since 1910 (“Chaucers Canterbury Tales
und das Decameron”, Nachrichten aus der N eueren Philologie und Literaturgeschichte,
1. Bd. 1934-37, pp. 49-70).
Other possibilities of influence on CT have been pointed out, by Karl Young ( The
Plan of the Canterbury Tales”, in A nniversary Papers by Colleagues and Pupils of G. L.
K ittred g e, Boston and London 1913, pp. 405-17; cf. Robert A. Pratt and Karl Young, “The
Literary Framework of the Canterbury Tales”, in W. F. Bryan & Germame Dempster
(ed.), Sources and A nalogues of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, Chicago 1941, pp. 1-81)
and by J. V. Cunningham (“The Literary Form of the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales ,
M odern Philology xlix 1952, pp. 172-81), who suggest as possible sources Sercambi’s
N ovelle and the dream vision tradition of the R om ance of the R ose, resp. The idea of
Boccaccian influence on CT, now generally abandoned, has been resumed by Richard
Stephen Guerin (The Canterbury Tales and II D ecam erone, unpubl. doet. diss. 1966, see
D issertation A bstracts A xxviii, Michigan 1967, p. 1396-A). W. H. Clawson, “The Frame­
work of The Canterbury Tales”, University of Toronro Quarterly xx 1951, pp. 137-54
(repr. in Wagenknecht 1959, pp. 3-22), is a mere article of survey and does not bring
anything new into the debate.
27. In his introduction to a German translation of the D ecam eron (Giovanni di Boccaccio,
D as D ekam eron, Leipzig 1923) André Jolles suggests a division of frame stories into two
groups, “Bei einigen bildet der Rahmen eine selbstandige Erzåhlung, die zwar Veranlassung
gibt, die erhaltenen Geschichten mitzuteilen, aber doch ihrcn eigenen Weg mmmt. Bei
andern besteht der Rahmen aus einer mehr oder weniger genauen Schilderung der Perso­
nen, die erzåhlen, und des Milieus, wo erzåhlt wird”. (p. xi; cf. Benno von Wiese, N ovelle,
Stuttgart 1963, p. 36), both the D ecam eron and CT belonging to the second group. This
division seems, however, to be too rough and each group to be too comprehensive to be
fruitful in our context.
28. To me, the problem of extrinsic evidence has been settled by the convincing study by
Willard Farnham, “England’s Discovery of the Decameron”, P M L A xxxix 1924, pp.
123-39.
29. The concept of “empty categories” has proved to be a useful analytical tool within
modern semantics, established by A. J. Greimas, Sem antique structurale, Paris 1966.