Category Archives: chaucer

What If?

Looking at some of my Chaucer research just now, and revisiting the manuscripts, a thought occurred that at first seemed most bleak.
There are dozens of scholars and even more articles and books written, all attempting to figure out which one of the extant manuscripts of the Canterbury Tales is most authoritative in regards to authorial intent. So far Ellesmere is in the lead, with Hengwrt thought to be its prototype. But what if that is not the case? I don’t mean to argue whether there is a manuscript better suited for this purpose than Ellesmere. I mean, what if none of the manuscripts come close to authorial intent? I know most scholars have avoided this strain of thought, simply because it is difficult to prove tale ordering if there is nothing to work with. What do you build from nothing?
Not to mention, to argue that none of the manuscripts reflect original authorial intent, then the lack of proof is not proof at all, and the only proof can reside with what was found at Chaucer’s death in his desk (and here I mean physically in his desk… this is not a metaphor for anything). Many have searched for this, and the debate of what documents or transcripts were legitimately there has been going on for over a century.
Record keeping wasn’t at its best back then. Things got lost. And who would have known that whatever scraps of parchment and velum they found in a small house he rented would be of any value centuries later? His one heir, Thomas, seemed completely disinterested in his father’s work, and did not pursue any of it further. Nor did he contact any of the scribes thought to be working away at any of his writing. Whatever may have been left of the Canterbury Tales in Chaucer’s desk may have come into Thomas’s possession. But no mention is made of it.
So I can see why few have even attempted making the claim against all manuscripts. And I say “few” because even though I have not seen any does not preclude them from existence. I am sure they are out there.
One day, when I have more time, and more resources, I want to explore this strange “what if” question. Maybe I will make a living of it.

This Is Nothing New…

Tonight, as I was talking to my professor, completely exuberant about my topic, another classmate asked how I have had time to learn so much about Chaucer in these weeks. I didn’t get it at first. But then it dawned on me. People assume this is a recent development because I have only now started openly speaking about it.
I have had this fascination with Chaucer for almost fifteen years. I have written half a dozen papers, and even long after I finished school the first time, I perused this interest independently. I have only recently opened up about it for several reasons. The first of which was my assumption that no one would ever be interested in it, so it would be best to keep it to myself. I remember a few years ago, as I was driving out to a cafe in Hollywood with Sean and Ashlyn, I was reciting Chaucer to them off the top of my head, and they thought it was quite interesting. But I could not imagine anyone outside of academia ever wanting to hear about this. So I never spoke about it. I most certainly didn’t blog about it. I just buried it, using it as something to fill my time in the middle of the night when I could not sleep.
Then I went back to school. But Chaucer isn’t exactly the most popular topic there either. So I focused on other things. Until a project came up for which I could not think of any other topic. It was perfect! I could finally put all of my research to good use! Yet in doing so it came back to what it originally was. I had a legitimate reason to conduct my research in the light of day, and actually feel as if I was doing something worthwhile with it. So of course I got excited again. I went to my parents’s house and unearthed the many boxes of books I had kept in my old closet. I looked over all of my old papers, and revisited the original sources. I remembered all of the things I had learned which I enfolded in the crevices of my memory, believing it was all too antiquated (600 year old manuscripts are hardly ever a hot topic in any situation).
But now that it has all come back, I have no intention of putting it away again.

A Wall of Books

Oddly enough, doing my Chaucer homework tonight I found an interesting argument relating him to Flaubert. I am not sure I agree with it, nor have I before considered the connection. Which is probably why I stopped to look at it. Almost as if someone had announced that Chaucer makes them think of bubble gum.
I have to admit, I have not read very much Flaubert. In fact I have read more about him than by him, and mostly by Sartre who had a love/hate relationship with Flaubert’s work, and his life, for reasons quit unknown. But then again I have read more by Sartre, then about him, so these reasons may very well be common knowledge among his biographers.
Flaubert got me thinking about Mallarme, and then Llosa’s book, that I no longer have. Or have misplaced. So basically my little literary trail came to a dead end. I was too tired to come up with any other connections, so I sat by bookcase hoping something catches my attention.
I seem to have had some sort of fascination with period pieces at one point. The kind written by historian’s turned novelists, artistically piecing together a plot from otherwise mundane names and dates. Sure, it is a little embellished, but for the most part not completely inaccurate. I apparently have quite the Gregory and Elyot collections.
Half of the time I think I have misplaced a book it turns out it is at my parents’s house. I should just bring all those boxes home. Surprise hubby with them. Oh look, we need a new bookcase. Or five. I will have my books usurp the house. A coup of various natures. Just like that Tegan and Sara song. Munchie and Ducky can build a fort out of them, while I reinforce the walls.
I’ll get the ice cream!