Lucas Blogs About Books

That's right, it's that thing I hate where the qualitative is quantified for no discernible purpose. But it is also kinda fun. So here are the rules: this is based solely on my own enjoyment of the extant Canterbury Tales; the General Prologue and Here Taketh the Makere of This Book His Leve are excluded, only portions of the text marked as tales will be considered; prologues count as part of their tale; in the event that I deem two tales to be equally enjoyable there will be a tie;  I'll try and come up with a pithy summation of each tale; and of course, we start with the worst: 24) The Prioress's Tale : Basically Blood Libel.  This one is just straight-up anti-semitic garbage. It has no redeeming value. It serves no purpose beyond defaming Jews and feeding a Christian persecution complex in spite of the fact that it was written in a country whose Christian king had expelled all Jews more than a century before it was written. It's trash. 23) The Parson's Tale :...

Well, I never need to reuse this picture again.   The Intro That's right, we've finally arrived in Canterbury, readers (Hypothetical or otherwise), this is the final installment of Whan That Month , a mere three months behind schedule. This month I'll be reading the longest of the tales (by about twenty pages) and something that's not a tale at all, so let's jump into— The Parson's Prologue Chaucer reckons that it's about four in the afternoon when the Manciple finishes his tale , and Harry Bailly triumphantly proclaims that they lack only one tale (the math definitely doesn't check out there, especially since The Manciple's Prologue is about the lack of a tale from the Cook). So he turns to the Parson who, having listened to the other pilgrim's tales on the road to Canterbury without comment replies, "Y'all need Jesus." And rather than a tale proceeds to deliver— The Parson's Tale Which, as it turns out, is a lengthy guide to p...

That's right, this photo's still goin' strong. The Intro Last month  time sort of got away from me and I only covered the Second Nun's Tale (a translation of the life of Saint Cecilia), which makes up the first half of the eight fragment. So let's see how Chaucer follows that up in–  The Canon's Yeoman's Prologue Shortly after the Second Nun finishes telling the life of Saint Cecile, and just as the pilgrims are nearly at Boughton-under-Blee (about five miles away from Canterbury), the party is overtaken by a chanoun (that is to say a member of the order of Augustinian canons, who can be distinguished by their white surplices and black habits) and his yeman (yeoman). It turns out that they've been riding hard because they wanted to join the company and Harry Bailly is more than happy to accommodate them, if they can add to the merriment by telling a tale or two. The Canon's Yeoman is more than happy to volunteer information about his master, who as i...

That's right, we're using this picture for a second consecutive April. The Intro Well, this is awkward, last year I was pretty sure that I would have this wrapped up in twelve months (although I did skip two months last year, so ‾\_(ツ)_/‾. In any case, welcome to the eleventh entry in Whan That Month, my ongoing project to read the entirety of the extant Canterbury Tales  by Geoffrey Chaucer, as collected in the Norton edition by editor David Lawton. Last month I polished off the seventh fragment, and now it's time to start in on the eighth, this one only has two tales, so let's dive right in with: The Second Nun's Prologue There is no linking segment here, no banter among pilgrims or prodding by Harry Bailly, just the Second Nun directly addressing the reader, uh, I mean the pilgrims. She begins by warning about the dangers of idleness, which can lead to vice. However, to counter that, she intends to embark on a translation of the legend of Sainte Cecilye (Cecilia)...

  Woohoo! Nearly a year of using this same image! The Intro Okay, so we're now twelve months (and ten entries) into my planned one year project to blog my reading of Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales . Turns out that planning to read a lengthy work of medieval literature while also reading other books and blogging about them is maybe more time-consuming than I anticipated. Whatever, it's not like this month will see me tackling one of the longest tales in the book. Oh wait. The Recap Okay, so you may recall that last month , we got far enough into the seventh fragment to reach the point where Harry Bailly interrupts Geoffrey Chaucer's mock epic Tale of Sir Thopas to insist that surely the poet must know a better story. Well, turns out that the only other tale Chaucer can think of is— The Tail of Melibee Melibeus is a wealthy man with a wife named Prudence who has born him a daughter named Sophie. One day while Melibeus is out, three of his foes break into his hous...

The photo will never change!   The Intro Welcome back to Whan That Month, my ongoing blog-within-a-blog chronicling my year reading The Canterbury Tales . Last month, I covered the sixth fragment which also happens to contain the last of the tales which I've already read, so from now on I'm in uncharted waters. What does Chaucer have in store for me in the seventh fragment? Well, come aboard matey it's time to discuss— The Shipman's Tale So in St. Denis (a town just north of Paris) there's this wealthy merchant and his wife. His wife loves to party and is a spendthrift. And us girls know that borrowing money can get you in trouble (Chaucer has apparently forgotten that this story is supposedly being told by a man). In any case, the merchant's household frequently hosts daun John (daun is his courtesy title), a monk and bon vivant. So frequent are his visits that John and the merchant call each other "cosin" and John calls the merchant's wife "...

Even in the New Year, I retain the same header image! The Intro Well, it's a new year and I'm starting it off (well, starting off the first entry in Whan That Month for the year) with a new to me tale. You may recall that we closed out Novembre with tales by the Squire and the Franklin. Then existing manuscripts break off, ending the fifth fragment. You know what that means, it's time to start in on the sixth, and it just jumps right in with— The Physician's Tale The Roman historian  Livy  tells (or, you know, Chaucer borrows from  Le Roman de la Rose ) the story of Virginius a wealthy, worthy, popular, and honorable knight, and his beautiful daughter, Virginia. After extolling Viriginia's beauty and chastity for a couple of pages, the Physician finally comes to the point of the matter. One day, when she's twelve and a half years old, Virginia walks through town, and catches the eye of Apius, a lecherous old judge who immediately comes up with a plan to abduct ...

By now you shouldn't be surprised that it's the same old photo.   The Intro Welcome back to  What That Month   — Lucas Blogs About The Canterbury Tales . Last month I closed out the fourth fragment with a discussion of The Merchant's Tale. While I wasn't crazy about it, it did at least complement  The Clerk's Tale  which preceded it. This month I hope to read the entirety of the fifth fragment, which comprises The Squire's Tale and The Franklin's Tale. This raises an important question, namely: The "Wait a Minute, What Exactly is a Franklin?" Way back in the fourteenth century, when Chaucer was writing The Canterbury Tales , a franklin was one of the social classes. Specifically a franklin was a free man, that is to say, not a serf. To be more specific, by Chaucer's time, a franklin was a landowner who wasn't a member of the gentry or the nobility. The Squire's Prologue Okay, so maybe the fourth and fifth fragment aren't as separat...