The Canterbury Tales

By Geoffrey Chaucer

The Canterbury Tales (Middle English: Tales of Caunterbury) is a collection of over 20 stories written in Middle English by Geoffrey Chaucer at the end of the 14th century, during the time of the Hundred Years' War. The tales (mostly written in verse, although some are in prose) are presented as part of a story-telling contest by a group of pilgrims as they travel together on a journey from Southwark to the shrine of Saint Thomas Becket at Canterbury Cathedral. The prize for this contest is a free meal at the Tabard Inn at Southwark on their return. After a long list of works written earlier in his career, including Troilus and Criseyde, House of Fame, and "Parliament of Fowls", The Canterbury Tales is near-unanimously seen as Chaucer's magnum opus. He uses the tales and the descriptions of its characters to paint an ironic and critical portrait of English society at the time, and particularly of the Church. Structurally, the collection resembles The Decameron, which Chaucer may have read during his first diplomatic mission to Italy in 1372. It is sometimes argued that the greatest contribution The Canterbury Tales made to English literature was in popularising the literary use of vernacular, English, rather than French or Latin. English had, however, been used as a literary language centuries before Chaucer's time, and several of Chaucer's contemporaries—John Gower, William Langland, the Pearl Poet, and Julian of Norwich—also wrote major literary works in English. It is unclear to what extent Chaucer was responsible for starting a trend as opposed to simply being part of it. While Chaucer clearly states the addressees of many of his poems, the intended audience of The Canterbury Tales is more difficult to determine. Chaucer was a courtier, leading some to believe that he was mainly a court poet who wrote exclusively for nobility.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Geoffrey Chaucer
• Release date: Apr 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9786050371901

Geoffrey Chaucer

Geoffrey Chaucer (1340-1400) is considered to be the greatest English poet of the Middle Ages. He maintained a career in civil service for most of his life, working as a courtier, diplomat, and was even a member of Parliament, however, he is famed for his literary work. Best known for his book The Canterbury Tales, Chaucer normalized the use of Middle English in a time when the respected literary languages were French and Latin, causing a revolutionary impact on literature. Chaucer is regarded as the father of English Literature for his invaluable contributions and innovations to the art.

Book preview

The Canterbury Tales

by

Geoffrey Chaucer

Part 1

Prologue

Here bygynneth the Book of the tales of Caunterbury.

Part 2

The Knyghtes Tale.

Heere bigynneth the knyghtes tale.

Part 3

Prologue to the Milleres Tale

Heere folwen the wordes bitwene the Hoost and the Millere

The Tale

Part 4

Prologue to the Reves Tale

The prologe of the Reves Tale.

Part 5

The Prologue to the Cokes Tale.

The prologe of the Cokes Tale.

The Tale (Unfinished).

Part 6

Prologue of the Man of Lawe.

The wordes of the Hoost to the compaignye.

Part 7

The Tale of the Man of Lawe.

The prologe of the Mannes Tale of Lawe.

Heere begynneth the Man of Lawe his Tale.

Part 8

Prologue to the Shipmannes Tale

Here endith the man of lawe his tale. And next folwith the Shipman his prolog.

Here endith the Shipman his prolog. And next folwyng he bigynneth his tale.

The Tale.

Part 9

The Prioresses Tale

The prologe of the Prioresses tale. Domine dominus noster.

Heere begynneth the Prioresses Tale.

Heere is ended the Prioresses Tale.

Part 10

Prologue to Chaucer’S Tale of Sir Thopas

Part 11

Heere bigynneth Chaucers tale of Thopas.

The Second Fit.

Heere the Hoost stynteth Chaucer of his Tale of Thopas.

The Tale (in prose).

Part 12

Prologue to the Monkes Tale

The murye wordes of the Hoost to the Monk.

Part 13

The Monkes Tale

Heere bigynneth the Monkes Tale de Casibut Virorum Illustrium.

Heere stynteth the Knyght the Monk of his tale.

Part 14

Prologue to the Nonnes Preestes Tale

The Prologue of the Nonnes Preestes Tale.

Part 15

The Nonnes Preestes Tale

Heere bigynneth the Nonnes Preestes tale of the Cok and Hen, Chauntecleer and Pertelote.

Heere is ended the Nonnes Preestes tale.

Part 16

The Phisiciens Tale

Heere folweth the Phisiciens tale.

Part 17

Epilogue

The wordes of the Hoost to the Phisicien and the Pardoner.

The Pardoners Prologue

Heere folweth the Prologe of the Pardoners tale.

Part 18

The Pardoners Tale

Heere bigynneth the Pardoners tale.

Heere is ended the Pardoners tale.

Part 19

Prologue of the Wyves Tale of Bath

The Prologe of the Wyves tale of Bathe.

Part 20

The Tale of the Wyf of Bath

Here bigynneth the Tale of the Wyf of Bathe.

Part 21

Prologue to the Freres Tale

The Prologe of the Freres Tale.

The Tale

Part 22

The Clerkes Tale — Prologue

Heere folweth the Prologe of the clerkes tale of Oxenford.

Part 23

The Clerkes Tale

Heere bigynneth the tale of the Clerk of Oxenford.

Lenvoy de Chaucer.

Bihoold the murye wordes of the Hoost.

Part 24

The Prologue of the Marchantes Tale

The Prologe of the Marchantes tale.

The Tale.

Part 25

Epilogue

Prologue to the Squieres Tale

The Squieres Tale

Heere bigynneth the Squieres Tale.

Part 26

Prologue to the Frankeleyns Tale

Heere folwen the wordes of the Frankelyn to the Squier, and the wordes of the hoost to the Frankelyn

The Frankeleyns Tale

Heere bigynneth the Frankeleyns tale.

Heere is ended the Frankeleyns tale.

Part 27

The Seconde Nonnes Tale

The Prologe of the Seconde Nonnes Tale.

Here bigynneth the Seconde Nonnes tale of the lyf of Seinte Cecile.

Heere is ended the Seconde Nonnes tale.

Part 28

Prologue to the Chanouns Yemannes Tale

The prologe of the Chanouns yemannes tale.

Part 29

Prologue to the Maunciples Tale

Heere folweth the Prologe of the Maunciples tale.

The Maunciples Tale

Heere bigynneth the Maunciples tale of the Crowe.

Heere is ended the Maunciples tale of the Crowe.

Part 30

Prologue to the Persouns Tale.

Heere folweth the Prologe of the Persouns tale.

Heere taketh the makere of this book his leve.

Part 1

GROUP A

Prologue

Here bygynneth the Book of the tales of Caunterbury.

Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote,

The droghte of March hath perced to the roote

And bathed every veyne in swich licour,

Of which vertu engendred is the flour;

Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,

And smale foweles maken melodye,

That slepen al the nyght with open eye —

So priketh hem Nature in hir corages —

Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages

And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes

To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;

And specially, from every shires ende

Of Engelond, to Caunturbury they wende,

The hooly blisful martir for the seke

That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seeke.

Bifil that in that seson, on a day,

In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay,

Redy to wenden on my pilgrymage

To Caunterbury, with ful devout corage,

At nyght were come into that hostelrye

Wel nyne and twenty in a compaignye

Of sondry folk, by aventure yfalle

In felaweshipe, and pilgrimes were they alle,

That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde.

The chambres and the stables weren wyde,

And wel we weren esed atte beste;

And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste,

So hadde I spoken with hem everychon

That I was of hir felaweshipe anon,

And made forward erly for to ryse

To take our wey, ther as I yow devyse.

But nathelees, whil I have tyme and space,

Er that I ferther in this tale pace,

Me thynketh it acordaunt to resoun

To telle yow al the condicioun

Of ech of hem, so as it semed me,

And whiche they weren, and of what degree,

And eek in what array that they were inne;

And at a knyght than wol I first bigynne.

A knyght ther was, and that a worthy man,

That fro the tyme that he first bigan

To riden out, he loved chivalrie,

Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisie.

Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre,

And therto hadde he riden, no man ferre,

As wel in Cristendom as in Hethenesse,

And evere honoured for his worthynesse.

At Alisaundre he was, whan it was wonne;

Ful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bigonne

Aboven alle nacions in Pruce;

In Lettow hadde he reysed, and in Ruce,

No cristen man so ofte of his degree.

In Gernade at the seege eek hadde he be

Of Algezir, and riden in Belmarye;

At Lyeys was he, and at Satalye,

Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete See

At many a noble arive hadde he be.

At mortal batailles hadde he been fiftene,

And foughten for oure feith at Tramyssene

In lystes thries, and ay slayn his foo.

This ilke worthy knyght hadde been also

Somtyme with the lord of Palatye

Agayn another hethen in Turkye,

And everemoore he hadde a sovereyn prys.

And though that he were worthy, he was wys,

And of his port as meeke as is a mayde;

He nevere yet no vileynye ne sayde

In al his lyf unto no maner wight;

He was a verray parfit gentil knyght.

But for to tellen yow of his array,

His hors weren goode, but he was nat gay.

Of fustian he wered a gypoun,

Al bismotered with his habergeoun;

For he was late ycome from his viage,

And wente for to doon his pilgrymage.

With hym ther was his sone, a yong Squier,

A lovyere and a lusty bacheler,

With lokkes crulle, as they were leyd in presse.

Of twenty yeer of age he was, I gesse.

Of his stature he was of evene lengthe,

And wonderly delyvere, and of greet strengthe.

And he hadde been somtyme in chyvachie

In Flaundres, in Artoys, and Pycardie,

And born hym weel, as of so litel space,

In hope to stonden in his lady grace.

Embrouded was he, as it were a meede,

Al ful of fresshe floures whyte and reede;

Syngynge he was, or floytynge, al the day,

He was as fressh as is the monthe of May.

Short was his gowne, with sleves longe and wyde.

Wel koude he sitte on hors, and faire ryde,

He koude songes make, and wel endite,

Juste, and eek daunce, and weel purtreye and write.

So hoote he lovede, that by nyghtertale

He slepte namoore than dooth a nyghtyngale.

Curteis he was, lowely, and servysable,

And carf biforn his fader at the table.

A Yeman hadde he, and servantz namo

At that tyme, for hym liste ride soo;

And he was clad in cote and hood of grene,

A sheef of pecok arwes bright and kene

Under his belt he bar ful thriftily —

Wel koude he dresse his takel yemanly,

Hise arwes drouped noght with fetheres lowe —

And in his hand he baar a myghty bowe.

A not — heed hadde he, with a broun visage,

Of woodecraft wel koude he al the usage.

Upon his arm he baar a gay bracer,

And by his syde a swerd and a bokeler,

And on that oother syde a gay daggere,

Harneised wel, and sharpe as point of spere.

A Cristophere on his brest of silver sheene,

An horn he bar, the bawdryk was of grene.

A Forster was he, soothly, as I gesse.

Ther was also a Nonne, a Prioresse,

That of hir smylyng was ful symple and coy.

Hir gretteste ooth was but by Seinte Loy,

And she was cleped Madame Eglentyne.

Ful weel she soong the service dyvyne,

Entuned in hir nose ful semely;

And Frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly

After the scole of Stratford-atte-Bowe,

For Frenssh of Parys was to hir unknowe.

At mete wel ytaught was she withalle;

She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,

Ne wette hir fyngres in hir sauce depe.

Wel koude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe

That no drope ne fille upon hir brist.

In curteisie was set ful muche hir list;

Hire over-lippe wyped she so clene,

That in hir coppe ther was no ferthyng sene

Of grece, whan she dronken hadde hir draughte.

Ful semely after hir mete she raughte;

And sikerly, she was of greet desport,

And ful plesaunt, and amyable of port,

And peyned hir to countrefete cheere

Of court, and been estatlich of manere,

And to ben holden digne of reverence.

But for to speken of hir conscience,

She was so charitable and so pitous,

She wolde wepe, if that she saugh a mous

Kaught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.

Of smale houndes hadde she, that she fedde

With rosted flessh, or milk and wastel-breed.

But soore weep she if oon of hem were deed,

Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte;

And al was conscience, and tendre herte.

Ful semyly hir wympul pynched was,

Hire nose tretys, hir eyen greye as glas,

Hir mouth ful smal, and therto softe and reed;

But sikerly, she hadde a fair forheed,

It was almoost a spanne brood, I trowe,

For, hardily, she was nat undergrowe.

Ful fetys was hir cloke, as I was war;

Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar

A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene,

An theron heng a brooch of gold ful sheene,

On which ther was first write a crowned ‘A,’

And after,‘Amor vincit omnia.’

Another Nonne with hir hadde she,

That was hire Chapeleyne, and preestes thre.

A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrie,

An outridere, that lovede venerie,

A manly man, to been an abbot able.

Ful many a deyntee hors hadde he in stable;

And whan he rood, men myghte his brydel heere

Gynglen in a whistlynge wynd als cleere,

And eek as loude, as dooth the chapel belle,

Ther as this lord was keper of the celle.

The reule of Seint Maure, or of Seint Beneit,

Bycause that it was old and somdel streit —

This ilke Monk leet olde thynges pace,

And heeld after the newe world the space.

He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen,

That seith that hunters beth nat hooly men,

Ne that a monk, whan he is recchelees,

Is likned til a fissh that is waterlees —

This is to seyn, a monk out of his cloystre —

But thilke text heeld he nat worth an oystre!

And I seyde his opinioun was good,

What sholde he studie, and make hymselven wood,

Upon a book in cloystre alwey to poure,

Or swynken with his handes and laboure

As Austyn bit? How shal the world be served?

Lat Austyn have his swynk to him reserved;

Therfore he was a prikasour aright,

Grehoundes he hadde, as swift as fowel in flight;

Of prikyng and of huntyng for the hare

Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.

I seigh his sleves ypurfiled at the hond

With grys, and that the fyneste of a lond;

And for to festne his hood under his chyn

He hadde of gold ywroght a curious pyn;

A love-knotte in the gretter ende ther was.

His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas,

And eek his face, as it hadde been enoynt.

He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt,

Hise eyen stepe, and rollynge in his heed,

That stemed as a forneys of a leed;

His bootes souple, his hors in greet estaat;

Now certeinly he was a fair prelaat!

He was nat pale as a forpyned goost,

A fat swan loved he best of any roost.

His palfrey was as broun as is a berye.

A Frere ther was, a wantowne and a merye,

A lymytour, a ful solempne man,

In alle the ordres foure is noon that kan

So muchel of daliaunce and fair langage.

He hadde maad ful many a mariage

Of yonge wommen at his owene cost.

Unto his ordre he was a noble post,

And wel biloved and famulier was he

With frankeleyns overal in his contree

And eek with worthy wommen of the toun,

For he hadde power of confessioun,

As seyde hymself, moore than a curat,

For of his ordre he was licenciat.

Ful swetely herde he confessioun,

And plesaunt was his a absolucioun,

He was an esy man to yeve penaunce

Ther as he wiste to have a good pitaunce;

For unto a povre ordre for to yive

Is signe that a man is wel yshryve;

For, if he yaf, he dorste make avaunt,

He wiste that a man was repentaunt.

For many a man so harde is of his herte,

He may nat wepe, al thogh hym soore smerte;

Therfore, in stede of wepynge and preyeres,

Men moote yeve silver to the povre freres.

His typet was ay farsed ful of knyves

And pynnes, for to yeven yonge wyves.

And certeinly he hadde a murye note,

Wel koude he synge, and pleyen on a rote,

Of yeddynges he baar outrely the pris.

His nekke whit was as the flour delys;

Therto he strong was as a champioun,

He knew the tavernes wel in every toun

And everich hostiler and tappestere

Bet than a lazar or a beggestere.

For unto swich a worthy man as he

Acorded nat, as by his facultee,

To have with sike lazars aqueyntaunce;

It is nat honeste, it may nat avaunce,

For to deelen with no swich poraille,

But al with riche and selleres of vitaille;

And overal, ther as profit sholde arise,

Curteis he was, and lowely of servyse.

Ther nas no man nowher so vertuous;

He was the beste beggere in his hous,

(And yaf a certeyn ferme for the graunt

Noon of his brethren cam ther in his haunt;)

For thogh a wydwe hadde noght a sho,

So plesaunt was his ‘In principio’

Yet wolde he have a ferthyng er he wente;

His purchas was wel bettre than his rente.

And rage he koude, as it were right a whelpe;

In love-dayes ther koude he muchel helpe;

For there he was nat lyk a cloysterer,

With a thredbare cope, as is a povre scoler,

But he was lyk a maister or a pope;

Of double worstede was his semycope,

That rounded as a belle out of the presse.

Somwhat he lipsed for his wantownesse

To make his Englissh sweete upon his tonge,

And in his harpyng, whan that he hadde songe,

Hise eyen twynkled in his heed aryght

As doon the sterres in the frosty nyght.

This worthy lymytour was cleped Huberd.

A Marchant was ther, with a forkek berd,

In mottelee, and hye on horse he sat,

Upon his heed a Flaundryssh bevere hat,

His bootes clasped faire and fetisly.

Hise resons he spak ful solempnely,

Sownynge alway thencrees of his wynnyng.

He wolde the see were kept for any thyng

Bitwixe Middelburgh and Orewelle.

Wel koude he in eschaunge sheeldes selle.

This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette;

Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette,

So estatly was he of his governaunce,

With his bargaynes and with his chevyssaunce.

Forsothe, he was a worthy man with-alle,

But, sooth to seyn, I noot how men hym calle.

A Clerk ther was of Oxenford also,

That unto logyk hadde longe ygo.

As leene was his hors as is a rake,

And he nas nat right fat, I undertake,

But looked holwe and therto sobrely.

Ful thredbare was his overeste courtepy,

For he hadde geten hym yet no benefice,

Ne was so worldly for to have office,

For hym was levere have at his beddes heed

Twenty bookes, clad in blak or reed,

Of Aristotle and his plilosophie,

Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrie.

But al be that he was a philosophre,

Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre;

But al that he myghte of his freendes hente,

On bookes and his lernynge he it spente,

And bisily gan for the soules preye

Of hem that yaf hym wherwith to scoleye.

Of studie took he moost cure and moost heede,

Noght o word spak he moore than was neede,

And that was seyd in forme and reverence,

And short and quyk, and ful of hy sentence.

Sownynge in moral vertu was his speche,

And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.

A Sergeant of the Lawe, war and wys,

That often hadde been at the parvys,

Ther was also, ful riche of excellence.

Discreet he was, and of greet reverence, —

He semed swich, hise wordes weren so wise.

Justice he was ful often in assise,

By patente, and by pleyn commissioun.

For his science, and for his heigh renoun,

Of fees and robes hadde he many oon.

So greet a purchasour was nowher noon,

Al was fee symple to hym in effect,

His purchasyng myghte nat been infect.

Nowher so bisy a man as he ther nas,

And yet he semed bisier than he was;

In termes hadde he caas and doomes alle,

That from the tyme of Kyng William were falle.

Therto he koude endite, and make a thyng,

Ther koude no wight pynche at his writyng.

And every statut koude he pleyn by rote.

He rood but hoomly in a medlee cote

Girt with a ceint of silk, with barres smale; —

Of his array telle I no lenger tale.

A Frankeleyn was in his compaignye;

Whit was his berd as is a dayesye.

Of his complexioun he was sangwyn.

Wel loved he by the morwe a sope in wyn,

To lyven in delit was evere his wone;

For he was Epicurus owene sone,

That heeld opinioun that pleyn delit

Was verraily felicitee parfit,

An housholdere, and that a greet, was he;

Seint Julian was he in his contree.

His breed, his ale, was alweys after oon,

A bettre envyned man was nowher noon.

Withoute bake mete was nevere his hous,

Of fissh and flessh, and that so plentevous,

It snewed in his hous of mete and drynke,

Of alle deyntees that men koude thynke.

After the sondry sesons of the yeer

So chaunged he his mete and his soper.

Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in muwe,

And many a breem and many a luce in stuwe.

Wo was his cook, but if his sauce were

Poynaunt, and sharp, and redy al his geere.

His table dormant in his halle alway

Stood redy covered al the longe day.

At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire;

Ful ofte tyme he was knyght of the shire.

An anlaas and a gipser al of silk

Heeng at his girdel, whit as morne milk.

A shirreve hadde he been, and a countour,

Was nowher swich a worthy vavasour.

An Haberdasshere and a Carpenter,

A Webbe, a Dyere, and a Tapycer —

And they were clothed alle in o lyveree

Of a solempne and a greet fraternitee.

Ful fressh and newe hir geere apiked was,

Hir knyves were chaped noght with bras,

But al with silver wroght ful clene and weel,

Hir girdles and hir pouches everydeel.

Wel semed ech of hem a fair burgeys

To sitten in a yeldehalle on a deys.

Everich for the wisdom that he kan

Was shaply for to been an alderman;

For catel hadde they ynogh, and rente,

And eek hir wyves wolde it wel assente —

And eles, certeyn, were they to blame!

It is ful fair to been ycleped ‘ma Dame,’

And goon to vigilies al bifore,

And have a mantel roialliche ybore.

A Cook they hadde with hem for the nones,

To boille the chiknes with the marybones,

And poudre-marchant tart, and galyngale.

Wel koude he knowe a draughte of London ale;

He koude rooste, and sethe, and broille, and frye,

Maken mortreux, and wel bake a pye.

But greet harm was it, as it thoughte me,

That on his shyne a mormal hadde he!

For blankmanger, that made he with the beste.

A Shipman was ther, wonynge fer by weste;

For aught I woot, he was of Dertemouthe.

He rood upon a rouncy, as he kouthe,

In a gowne of faldyng to the knee.

A daggere hangynge on a laas hadde he

Aboute his nekke, under his arm adoun.

The hoote somer hadde maad his hewe al broun,

And certeinly he was a good felawe.

Ful many a draughte of wyn had he ydrawe

Fro Burdeuxward, whil that the chapman sleep.

Of nyce conscience took he no keep;

If that he faught, and hadde the hyer hond,

By water he sente hem hoom to every lond.

But of his craft, to rekene wel his tydes,

His stremes, and his daungers hym bisides,

His herberwe and his moone, his lodemenage,

Ther nas noon swich from Hulle to Cartage.

Hardy he was, and wys to undertake,

With many a tempest hadde his berd been shake;

He knew alle the havenes as they were

From Gootlond to the Cape of Fynystere,

And every cryke in Britaigne and in Spayne.

His barge yeleped was the Maudelayne.

With us ther was a Doctour of Phisik;

In al this world ne was ther noon hym lik,

To speke of phisik and of surgerye;

For he was grounded in astronomye.

He kepte his pacient a ful greet deel

In houres, by his magyk natureel.

Wel koude he fortunen the ascendent

Of hisc ymages for his pacient.

He knew the cause of everich maladye,

Were it of hoot or coold, or moyste, or drye,

And where they engendred, and of what humour.

He was a verray parfit praktisour;

The cause yknowe, and of his harm the roote,

Anon he yaf the sike man his boote.

Ful redy hadde he hise apothecaries

To sende him drogges and his letuaries,

For ech of hem made oother for to wynne,

Hir frendshipe nas nat newe to bigynne.

Wel knew he the olde Esculapius,

And Deyscorides and eek Rufus,

Olde Ypocras, Haly, and Galyen,

Serapioun, Razis, and Avycen,

Averrois, Damascien, and Constantyn,

Bernard, and Gatesden, and Gilbertyn.

Of his diete mesurable was he,

For it was of no superfluitee,

But of greet norissyng, and digestible.

His studie was but litel on the Bible.

In sangwyn and in pers he clad was al,

Lyned with taffata and with sendal —

And yet he was but esy of dispence;

He kepte that he wan in pestilence.

For gold in phisik is a cordial,

Therfore he lovede gold in special.

A good wif was ther, of biside Bathe,

He was to synful man nat despitous,

Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne,

But in his techyng discreet and benygne;

To drawen folk to hevene by fairnesse,

By good ensample, this was his bisynesse.

But it were any persone obstinat,

What so he were, of heigh or lough estat,

Hym wolde he snybben sharply for the nonys.

A bettre preest, I trowe, that nowher noon ys.

He waited after no pompe and reverence,

Ne maked him a spiced conscience,

But Cristes loore, and Hise apostles twelve

He taughte, but first he folwed it hym-selve.

With hym ther was a Plowman, was his brother,

That hadde ylad of dong ful many a fother.

A trewe swybnker and a good was he,

Lyvynge in pees and parfit charitee.

God loved he best with al his hoole herte

At alle tymes, thogh him gamed or smerte,

And thanne his neighebore right as hym-selve;

He wolde thresshe, and therto dyke and delve,

For Cristes sake, for every povre wight

Withouten hire, if it lay in his myght.

Hise tithes payed he ful faire and wel,

Bothe of his propre swynk and his catel.

In a tabard he rood, upon a mere.

Ther was also a Reve and a Millere,

A Somnour and a Pardoner also,

A Maunciple, and myself, ther were namo.

The Millere was a stout carl for the nones,

Ful byg he was of brawn and eek of bones —

That proved wel, for overal ther he cam

At wrastlyng he wolde have alwey the ram.

He was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre,

Ther was no dore that he nolde heve of harre,

Or breke it at a rennyng with his heed.

His berd as any sowe or fox was reed,

And therto brood, as though it were a spade.

Upon the cop right of his nose he hade

A werte, and thereon stood a toft of heres

Reed as the brustles of a sowes eres;

Hise nosethirles blake were and wyde.

A swerd and bokeler bar he by his syde.

His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys,

He was a janglere and a goliardeys,

And that was moost of synne and harlotries.

Wel koude he stelen corn, and tollen thries,

And yet he hadde a thombe of gold, pardee.

A whit cote and a blew hood wered he.

A baggepipe wel koude he blowe and sowne,

And therwithal he broghte us out of towne.

A gentil Maunciple was ther of a temple,

Of which achatours myghte take exemple

For to be wise in byynge of vitaille;

For wheither that he payde or took by taille,

Algate he wayted so in his achaat

That he was ay biforn, and in good staat.

Now is nat that of God a ful fair grace,

That swich a lewed mannes wit shal pace

The wisdom of an heep of lerned men?

Of maistres hadde he mo than thries ten,

That weren of lawe expert and curious,

Of whiche ther weren a duszeyne in that hous

Worthy to been stywardes of rente and lond

Of any lord that is in Engelond,

To maken hym lyve by his propre good,

In honour dettelees, but if he were wood;

Or lyve as scarsly as hym list desire,

And able for to helpen al a shire

In any caas that myghte falle or happe —

And yet this manciple sette hir aller cappe!

The Reve was a sclendre colerik man;

His berd was shave as ny as ever he kan,

His heer was by his erys ful round yshorn,

His top was dokked lyk a preest biforn.

Ful longe were his legges, and ful lene,

Ylyk a staf, ther was no calf ysene.

Wel koude he kepe a gerner and a bynne,

Ther was noon auditour koude on him wynne.

Wel wiste he, by the droghte, and by the reyn,

The yeldynge of his seed and of his greyn.

His lordes sheep, his neet, his dayerye,

His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrye,

Was hooly in this reves governyng

And by his covenant yaf the rekenyng,

Syn that his lord was twenty yeer of age;

Ther koude no man brynge hym in arrerage.

Ther nas baillif, ne hierde, nor oother hyne,

That he ne knew his sleighte and his covyne,

They were adrad of hym as of the deeth.

His wonyng was ful faire upon an heeth,

With grene trees shadwed was his place.

He koude bettre than his lord purchace.

Ful riche he was astored pryvely;

His lord wel koude he plesen subtilly

To yeve and lene hym of his owene good,

And have a thank, and yet a cote and hook.

In youthe he hadde lerned a good myster,

He was a wel good wrighte, a carpenter.

This reve sat upon a ful good stot,

That was al pomely grey, and highte Scot.

A long surcote of pers upon he hade,

And by his syde he baar a rusty blade.

Of Northfolk was this reve, of which I telle,

Bisyde a toun men clepen Baldeswelle.

Tukked he was, as is a frere, aboute,

And evere he rood the hyndreste of oure route.

A Somonour was ther with us in that place,

That hadde a fyr-reed cherubynnes face,

For sawcefleem he was, with eyen narwe.

As hoot he was, and lecherous, as a sparwe,

With scalled browes blake, and piled berd,

Of his visage children were aferd.

Ther nas quyk-silver, lytarge, ne brymstoon,

Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon,

Ne oynement, that wolde clense and byte,

That hym myghte helpen of his wheldes white,

Nor of the knobbes sittynge on his chekes.

Wel loved he garleek, oynons, and eek lekes,

And for to drynken strong wyn, reed

Reviews for The Canterbury Tales

[katie_h_11 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I read this in Middle English, so it was extremely challenging, but well worth the extra effort. The "Canturbury Tales" are a collection of stories, all but two of which, were written in verse. In the framing story, 24 pilgrims are on their way from Southwark to Canturbury to visit the Saint Thomas Becket shrine at Canturbury Cathedral. When they stop along the way, they entertain the group with tales, some serious, some hilarious, some racy, some satirical, and some laced with religious themes. The most famous of these is "The Knight's Tale," in which two friends, both knights, fall in love with the same woman. The funniest and bawdiest story is "The Miller's Tale," which includes extramarital sex, ass (ers) kissing, and farting! I'd highly recommend at least attempting to read the book in its original language, as the verses are incredibly beautiful and well-written. There are several versions that include either glossaries or interlinear translation which is necessary to fully understand the meaning of the text, but a strictly modern version will miss much of what makes Chaucer amazing.

[jonfaith · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A wife destroys her husband and contrives,
As husbands know, the ruin of their lives

Much as the theme of estrangement dominates a thread of traditional songs, (see Wayfaring Stranger, Motherless Child etc) much of early Modern literature appears concerned with faithless brides and the looming spectre of cuckoldry. It is possible that I am full of shit in tall weeds, but that said, I do think that there is a link between the themes (alienation and infidelity) and that both are understood in terms of our ontological displacement. Such were my reasoned reactions to Canterbury Tales. My unreasoned ones amounted to observation: look there’s a rape, that’s a rape, that’s a pogrom, why would anyone’s daughter want to sleep with him etc, etc? I read this in translation into modern English and was impressed about the rhyme, especially between Flanders and extravagances: who can fault that? The Tales is a display of language's majesty.

My grasp of Chaucer amounts to the author saying through his myriad voices -- much like Bill Nighy in Hitchhiker’s Guide: there really is no point, just keep busy

[thorold_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Canterbury Tales is by a wide margin the best-known work of English literature from the medieval period. It's not only enshrined in the school History syllabus between Crop Rotation, Monasticism and Castles, but it's a book that many modern readers still seem to turn to for pleasure, despite the obvious difficulties caused by the linguistic and cultural distance of six centuries. I've often dipped into it pleasurably before, and I've had a copy sitting on my shelves for many years, but this is the first time I've tried a cover-to-cover read. I found the language easier to deal with than I expected - Chaucer's version of southern English is a lot more straightforward for the modern reader than the nearly contemporary Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Anyone who knows a bit of French or Latin and a bit of German or Dutch ought to be able to read it fairly easily with the help of the marginal glosses. Especially with 600 pages to practice on, you soon get the hang of what it means and a rough idea of how it sounds (I listened to an audio recording of the General Prologue for help with this). In fact, the pronunciation of Middle English is usually more logical than that of Modern English. If what's written is "knight", it makes far more sense to say cnicht (or kerniggut if you're John Cleese) than nite...Like most people, I had mixed reactions to the Tales. The bawdy ones were fun - it's always interesting to see that people enjoyed fart-jokes as much (or perhaps even more) in those days as they do now. The chivalric-romance style of several other Tales was colourful but sometimes a bit slow for modern tastes (some of the descriptions in the "Knight's Tale" seem to go on for ever), but it was revealing to see that Chaucer was well aware of that and was prepared to make fun of it in the mock-heroic "Nun's Priest's Tale" and the deliberately boring and directionless "Tale of Sir Thopas", which is supposedly being told by the poet's narrator-persona, "Chaucer", until he's cut off by the Host. There are several "high-minded" religious Tales that look as though they are meant to be taken straight - the blatantly antisemitic - "Prioress's Tale" is perhaps best ignored; the "Physician's Tale", a gruesome story about an honour-killing, is not much better, except that there at least the narrator seems to distance himself a little from the idea that it's better to kill your (innocent) daughter than risk shame attaching to her; the "Second Nun's Tale" (the gloriously over-the-top martyrdom of St Cecilia) is almost readable, but even I was forced into skimming by the "Parson's Tale", a lengthy and very dry sermon on the subject of "penance" (it does get a bit livelier when it's discussing the Seven Deadly Sins...).Probably the most interesting aspect of the Tales overall is what Chaucer has to say about the relations between men and women. Several Tales deal with this topic explicitly in various different ways, and the core of the argument is obviously in the "Wife of Bath's Prologue and Tale" - she argues powerfully and directly that the world will not collapse into disorder if women are allowed to decide the course of their own lives. The "Franklin's Tale" also takes up the idea of an equitable marriage in which neither partner owes obedience to the other and presents it in a positive light. It's tempting to read something of the Chaucers' domestic situation into this, but of course we don't have the slightest bit of evidence for anything other than that Philippa Chaucer had a career of her own. We read this for its scope, vitality and colour, and for the liveliness of Chaucer's verse, which manages to jump the centuries without any problem. It's striking how we're so used to groaning and expecting dullness or difficulty when we see a passage of verse in a modern prose novel - here it's precisely the opposite; we (rightly) groan when we see the prose text of the "Parson's Tale" and the "Tale of Melibee" coming up, and are relieved when we get back to verse again...One - irrelevant - thought that struck me for the first time on this reading was to wonder how the practicalities of storytelling on horseback work out. Even on foot, it's difficult to talk to more than two or three people at once whilst walking along, and when riding you can't get as close together as you can on foot, plus you've got the noise of the horses. So I don't know how you would go about telling a story to a group of 29 riders in a way that they can all hear it. If they were riding two abreast, they would be spread out over something like 50m of road, and it's unlikely that the A2 was more than two lanes wide in the 14th century...

[melsmarsh · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

In honour of my late medieval studies adviser, Dr John Bugge, I figured it was time to finish reading one of his favourite books. I read it. It's a collection of stories. I am honestly still not sure what the appeal is. *And I'm a medievalist.* But I read it and now I don't feel like I have to read it again. It can go onto my bookshelves so I can feel intelligent and well read.

[papercrystals · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This particular translation proved to be an easier read than I had expected. A little of the flow feels like it has been sacrificed in favor of readability, but that didn't bother me- rather, I enjoyed the chance to read the stories without having to over-think the poetry. I always have my older editions for the times when the beauty of the language is more important to me than the stories!

[maribs_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What a beautiful book the new unabridged translation of Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales by Burton Raffel is. The book jacket is lovely, the uneven torn edges of the pages are perfect and typeset is easy on the eyes.John Miles Foley's Introduction begins..."Welcome to the world of characters you won't soon forget, of speeches and ideas and events that will stay with you long after you come to the end of the (supposedly) unfinished Canterbury Tales." Even before coming to the end, the stories stay with you.I am getting through this book slower than I would like, but remember, it is almost 600 pages long. Not the easiest to read but well worth it. It just amazes me that this was written in the 14th Century. The translation from Middle English is done very well. I am truly enjoying my first reading of The Canterbury Tales.

[tapestry100 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Having not read The Canterbury Tales since high school, I really have no basis of comparison to say how this translation stands up to prior editions, but I can say that it was a very accessible book. I won't go into the details of the story, as I would be just rehashing everything that has been said before, but I did find the book enjoyable. It still takes awhile to get into the flow of the text, but once there, the reading was quite easy.

[kislam_75 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I first read this book in the 11th grade in Ms. Robert's English class. I think this was one of the first books where I really began to take an interest in the classics, which was unwittingly encouraged by Ms. Robert's excellent teaching of the class (for example, the day we read The Knight's Tale, we were told to pronounce "knight" as "kuh-nig-ut"). It is an interesting glimpse into mediaeval times, which, as it turns out, weren't so different from a human perspective than the present.One of the books I took with me and read while deployed to Iraq.

[bamalibrarylady · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

When I was assigned this book to read for my World Literature class, I was somewhat afraid. This was not only because I figured I wouldn't understand the language but also because it seemed extremely boring.However, once I bought the book and read it, I was surprised to find that I was wrong about both of these things.First,in terms of the language, although it was written in Middle English, the author of this edition takes the liberty of having a translation of each section. This of course allows the reader to see the contrast of the old language and the modern translation as well as better relate to the story.Secondly, in terms of the Canterbury Tales being boring, I was surprised to find myself wanting to continue reading each of the tales. Although I thought I would not be interested in the various tales told by each pilgrim, I eventually wanted to see how the characters in each tale ended and what became of them.So,although this started out as an assignment for class, it became an opportunity for me to read something that I usually wouldn't. Therefore, I would suggest this book to anyone who would like to read about not only a journey but about how people are not as they appear to be.

[downtownlibrarian · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

My Chaucer professor at the University of Miami, Dr. Eugene Clasby, used to say that Chaucer was a greater writer than Shakespeare (and he taught Shakespeare, too). I'm going to leave it at that, except to say that The Wife of Bath's Tale is a brilliant moral lesson about embracing your life.

[ankhet_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I received this book as part of the Early Reviewers program, and have slowly been slogging through it. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the Canterbury tales - as you can see, I've given it 4.5 stars. No matter what translation, I find the Tales always to be a long, hard read - but this translation is beautiful. It makes the long, hard read much less of a slog and much more enjoyable!

[marciliogq_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The Canterbury Tales are at the same time a historical and literary reading. Through the characters you can see a whole frame of representations from Middle Ages. From the women of Bath to merchant, prayers, prioesses, friars... religious, economical, burguois and low society. This book is an incredible source for scholars, students and readers.

[jeroenberndsen · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A classic work of literature and one of the first tot criticise society in this way. A wrote a paper about it for my studies and knowing more about the time it was written makes you appreciate it even more.

[faith42love · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Some of the tales were wildly funny, especially the Wife of Bath, but most I found boring and endless. Quite ironically, when I would get feed up with the tale, the host would jump in and tell the story teller how boring or frightfully horrid they were being. All in all I really dislike this book and hope I don't have to read it ever again. I might have appreciated it more in school, having a teacher to help me along with it.

[cmbohn · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

This is for the new version translated by Burton Raffel that was offered here as an Early Review. At first, the new format was not my favorite. I really like the rhythm and feel of the original. But I never actually finished the Middle English version, and I did finish this one, so maybe that's because of the translation.I have to say that I really didn't like it though. Nothing wrong with the translation itself. It was the subject matter. First of all, it struck me as funny that they were on a religious pilgrimage, and yet they were so, well, irreverent! The rather bawdy humor in some of the stories didn't exactly fit the picture of religious pilgrims. Another thing that seemed kind of strange was the way they kept referring to the Roman gods and goddesses. It was kind of an odd mixture. But my biggest objection was the way women were portrayed. Some of the stories were just plain goofy, really. I hated the stories of Cecilia and Griselda. And even though I really like the wife of Bath, I thought her story was just plain goofy. A knight rapes a girl and the king wants him executed. But the queen and her ladies beg for mercy for him because he's good looking. So he gets a reprieve in time to travel the country, finding out what women want. Well, not to be raped would be pretty high on my list. But then he does it, and escapes, and blah, blah, blah. Over and over again, I was bothered by how far out from modern society the attitudes were in this book. I just wasn't able to make the leap required to enjoy this book at all. I'm just glad it's done!

[stephxsu · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Canterbury Tales is basically required literature for every literate English speaker out there. It offers a plethora of different stories to choose from: some sad, some funny, some downright raucous and crude. You'll never run out of stories for all your varieties of moods.I would recommend trying reading this in the original Middle English; it's difficult but rewarding, especialy when you revert back to modern English afterwards and realize how easy and familiar it is!That being said, Burton Raffel's new translation of Canterbury Tales is approachable and friendly to readers of all ages, from the slightly-but-hopefully-not-too-apathetic high school student to the serious and wise scholar of English lit. More points for having a lovely book layout; I love the feel of a good, solid book in my hands.

[mbmackay · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Wow! Almost readable in original English after 660 years. Irreverent & ebullient.Read Samoa Nov 2003

[oscarwilde87_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

While The Canterbury Tales is very well-known by its title, it is probably not that widely read. It is a collection of 20 stories written in Middle English by Geoffrey Chaucer in the 14th century. Apart from a few exceptions these tales are written in verse. This review is based on my reading of the Modern English translation by Nevill Coghill.The Canterbury Tales are a story-telling contest by a group of people on their way from Southwark to Canterbury Cathedral: It happened in that season that one day
In Southwark, at The Tabard, as I lay
Ready to go on pilgrimage and start
For Canterbury, most devout at heart,
At night there came into that hostelry
Some nine and twenty in a company
Of sundry folk happening then to fall
In fellowship, and they were pilgrims all
That towards Canterbury meant to ride.
(quoted from The Prologue)This "sundry folk" includes, among others, a knight, a miller, a reeve, a cook, a prioress, a monk, a clerk, a merchant, a physician, a pardoner and a parson. Probably also known to many is The Wife of Bath.As it is hard to review such a large collection of stories I will concentrate on the one that impressed me most, which was 'The Miller's Tale'. Following a story of courtly love told by the kinght, 'The Miller's Tale' relates a story of a carpenter who is fooled by his clerks who have sex with the carpenter's wife. What I especially liked about this story is the topic, which is talked about very openly for a 14th century work. What is more, the miller does a magnificent job in telling his tale after he had just told the rest of the group of pilgrims that he was drunk and not to be held acoountable for the story. 'The Miller's Tale' is followed by 'The Reeve's Tale' in which great offense is expressed at the miller's story as the reeve had been a carpenter himself once. This can be seen as an example of the structure of The Canterbury Tales: A story insulting a particular group of persons or a particular trade is usually followed by a response from the offended who tell a tale on their own to set matters right or get back at the previous speaker.While 'The Miller's Tale' is just one of many stories in The Canterbury Tales it is somewhat representative of what I liked about the book. First, there is the structure that greatly contributes to the overall reading pleasure. Second, there are the tales themselves, which are very entertaining, especially keeping in mind the fact that they were written at the end of the 14th century. To my mind, The Canterbury Tales is a classic that is still highly appealing to 21st century readers. On the whole, 4 stars for a great reading experience.

[lyndatrue · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This beautiful old volume was sadly printed in the worst of times. Even though I've been careful in its storage, and in handling, the dreaded acidity is catching up with the paper. I imagine that in perhaps another 50 years, the pages will be completely yellowed and crumbly, and it'll be gone. This volume is written in the original English (the East Midland dialect, according to Untermeyer's excellent introduction) of the day, with an excellent glossary at the end (but beginning, I suspect, to be less than helpful, nearly 100 years after publication).His stories give insight into the day to day lives of people in his time (the 1300s), and he wrote in a manner that is still lively and readable today.

[aliceanna-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

From the mind-numbingly boring Monk's Tale to the spirited Wife of Bath, these tales seemed to be either really good or really dull. I was able to follow the language (for the most part) once I went through the Prologue with a fine-tooth comb looking up every unfamiliar word. After that, I had the hang of it. I'm glad I read it, but I doubt that I'll ever read it again.

[swingingnorske · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Always entertaining. I loved reading this the first time and I always enjoy going back over a tale or two for a chuckle.

[bayardus-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I've recently read several interesting short story collections from antiquity, namely The Canterbury Tales, Arabian Nights, and Ovid's Metamorphoses. Each of them has inspired enough academic articles to fill a library, so I'm not going to delve into their historical import or the ways each has influenced future literature, but I think its valuable to consider how they compare to each other in approach and how I saw them as stories.

First, The Canterbury Tales. Chaucer's unfinished collection provides a great window into what life was like in the middle ages, more specifically England in the 1300s. By providing a diverse cast of story tellers as the vehicles for the stories themselves Chaucer is able to explore many professions and various points on the social hierarchy, satirizing and criticizing all the flaws he saw in his society. To an extent these are interesting, but social satire does not always age well. While it certainly gives you a sense of how England looked through Chaucer's eyes (a den of corruption and hypocrisy for the most part, especially when discussing the religious institutions), it can be hit or miss as to whether the critique has aged well. Critique on chivalry in The Knight's Tale? I'm in. Critique of alchemists wherein pages and pages of ingredients are listed? Yawn. Additionally, the majority of the tales aren't that deep, with many being raunchy stories of pure entertainment and others being morality tales with blatantly obvious messages (pride is bad and fortune is fickle, we get it). The message of one tale was flat out stated to be "beware of treachery." Was there someone at the time going around saying "treachery isn't that bad, don't worry about it?"

In reverse chronological order the next up is Arabian Nights. This collection is amorphous enough that many tales pop up in one edition and not another, which in my opinion weakens the arguments I see about the collection having a set of coherent themes or messages. The sole theme that I found to be consistent was the power of storytelling- it appears in the frame narrative, of course, but also the stories themselves often showcase the ability of stories to trick the powerful, and oftentimes stories lead to sub-stories and so on, like nesting dolls. Toward the end of the collection the descriptions began to get to me: if I never see someone described as being "as beautiful as the moon" with "lips like coral" and other features like various gems I'll be a happy reader. The Norton Critical addition showed its worth by providing many additional pieces inspired by the Arabian Nights, as well as critical analyses of the text (some of which I found less than convincing, but always interesting). More so than the other two collections Arabian Nights just struck me as a bunch of stories, many of which of course were intended to edify, but mostly its purpose was to entertain. It more or less accomplished this.

The earliest, and also the best, of the three collections was Ovid's Metamorphoses. Chaucer references the classic explicitly several times in his work, and it's no wonder: Ovid is the master that Chaucer tried and failed to match. What put this collection above the others for me was that Ovid not only had a consistent theme to the stories (transformations, as the title would suggest), but also stories flow from one to the next, mostly with an organic feeling that makes the work take on a grander scale. Ovid's not just telling stories, he's tracing the history of the world, explaining how the world became populated with the birds and plants and animals that fill it, and connecting the past all up to what was then the present day. It also serves as the source for much of what we know of Greek/Roman mythology, as Ovid was also setting down an account of the actions and behavior of the gods. Framing narratives can be used to great effect, just look at If On a Winter's Night a Traveller by Italo Calvino for a phenomenal example, but Canterbury Tales creates such a framing narrative only to leave it incomplete, and Arabian Nights slowly siphons away the importance of the frame narrative until it is forgotten entirely. In comparison, Ovid's Metamorphoses connection of his tales makes his work stand on a grander scale, and makes it feel like a more coherent whole. A note on translations, I found Charles Martin's work to be very strong in general, although he makes a few bizarre choices. Translating a singing contest into a rap battle was a clear mistake. Overall, though, I feel confident recommending him so long as you want a more modern take on the text.

All three collections have stood the test of time, and each is an essential read to understand the ages and cultures they arose out of. Between the three of them, though, Ovid's Metamorphoses is the most worthy of your time in my opinion.

[lissabeth21 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I could listen to and read this repeatedly and still find more to love I think.

[bookomaniac-1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Zeer ongelijkmatig; sommige verhalen zitten met haken en ogen in elkaar, andere zijn pareltjes.Steken er bovenuit: ridder,vrouw uit Bath, klerk, grondbezitter, aflaatkramer, nonnenpriester.Wel mooie psychologische tekening.

[alcracka · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I suppose this is my own Ulysses. Canterbury Tales is certainly one of those books, like Ulysses or Proust or Golden Bowl, that no one's actually read or if they have they hated it or if they didn't they're lying because they think it'll impress you. But I took a whole class on this in college and I had this terrific professor, and she showed me how awesome this is. Really, it's a heap of fun. Are you impressed?

[kaulsu · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Mark Twain said something like: "Classics are books you think you ought to read, but never do." Well, I am glad I put in the hours to listen to this book, but I cannot say I enjoyed much of it. Partially, it was the narration--some of the accents used were simply impossible--and partially it was boredom that set in when discussing theology that is so far from my own. Still, it is part of the "canon" and as such, it is good to be a bit more literate today than I was yesterday....

[emurray35 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a very approachable translation of The Canterbury Tales. Many of my students still struggle with reading Chaucer in translation (at least with the translation in our anthology); however, this translation seems more approachable for my college students.

[shanaqui_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I actually reread this in my copy of the Norton Critical edition, which is very good, with glosses, notes, and a lot of supplementary material. Unfortunately, you can't put two read dates in, so. Here we go.

I decided to reread The Canterbury Tales because a) I've read Troilus and Criseyde twice now, and loved it, and b) I had to look at the Wife of Bath's tale as a Gawain romance. Gawain is always going to be a draw for me, so I settled down to read it. I find it frustrating, in its unfinished and uncertain nature -- which tale responds to which, are we supposed to connect this tale with this part, etc -- but I did enjoy it a lot more this time. The different stories and styles display Chaucer's versatility as a writer, of course, and I found most of them fascinating in their own right. I have a special fondness for the Franklin's Tale, because I studied that and reading it again after some time away (and after earning my degree!) taught me so much more about it.

I still prefer Troilus and Criseyde, and I still wish people could come to artists like Shakespeare and Chaucer in their own time instead of as a chore, as homework. But still! I appreciate The Canterbury Tales a lot more now.

[gold_gato-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Oh, the treasure of finding and holding a shopworn copy of Chaucer's tales in my hands is just too much for words. His tales are not just downright funny, but they can be applied even today to the people we work with, live with, and play with on a daily basis. In fact, I kept laughing every time I read another tale that was a ringer for someone I knew. The classics hold up well, don't they?


Book Season = Sping ("when the sweet showers of April fall and shoot")

[lhlogan1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Fun reads but a bit eclectic in a chaotic sense.