Chaucer The Millers Tale The Canterbury Tales The

Chaucer – ‘The Miller’s Tale’

The Canterbury Tales The frame narrative – The Tales are about a group of folk who travel together between London and Canterbury on a pilgrimage – a journey made for reasons of religious devotion. In this instance, the pilgrims are travelling to the Canterbury Cathedral to pray before the tomb of Saint Thomas a Becket (a Christian martyr). It is a journey of a few days on horseback, so to keep themselves entertained the pilgrims tell stories to each other. Note: The Miller leads the pilgrims out of town with his bagpipes and is the second to tell his tale.

William Blake’s Portrait of Chaucer’s Pilgrims from the ‘General Prologue’ to The Canterbury Tales Chaucer’s Rogue’s Gallery

Note the Miller, who leads the group from the Tabard Inn to the sound of his bagpipes.

Description of Miller in Middle English (from ‘The General Prologue’ to The Canterbury Tales) The Millere was a stout carl for the nones, Ful byg he was of brawn, and eek of bones; That proved wel, for over al, ther he cam, At wrastlynge he wolde have alwey the ram. He was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre, Ther nas 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 cope right of his nose he hade A werte, and theron stood a toft of herys, Reed as the brustles of a sowes erys; His nosethirles blake were and wyde; A swerd and a bokeler bar he by his syde; His mouth as wyde was as a greet forneys, He was a janglere and a goliardeys, And that was moost of synne and harlotriës. Wel koude he stelen corn and tollen thriës, 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. 545 550 555 560

The Miller 550 555 560 565 The MILLER was a strong fellow, be it known, Hardy, big of brawn and big of bone; Which was well proved, for wherever a festive day At wrestling, he always took the prize away. He was stoutly built, broad and heavy; He lifted each door from its hinges, that easy, Or break it through, by running, with his head. His beard, as any sow or fox, was red, And broad it was as if it were a spade. Upon his nose right on the top he had A wart, and thereon stood a tuft of hairs, Red as the bristles in an old sow's ears; His nostrils they were black and wide. A sword and buckler he carried by his side. His mouth was like a furnace door for size. He was a jester and knew some poetry, But mostly all of sin and obscenity. He could steal corn and three times charge his fee; And yet indeed he had a thumb of gold. A blue hood he wore and a white coat; A bagpipe he could blow well, up and down, And with that same he brought us out of town.

Prose translation of the Miller’s portrait The Miller was a very husky fellow, tremendous in bone and in brawn which he used well to get the best of all comers: in wrestling he always won the prize. He was stock, broad, and thickset. There was no door which he could not pull off its hinges or break by ramming it with his head. His beard was as red as any sow or fox, and as broad as a spade. At the right top of his nose he had a wart, from which there grew a tuft of hairs red as the bristles of a sow’s ears, and his nostrils were wide and black. A sword and a shield hung at his side. His mouth was as huge as a large furnace, and he was a jokester and ribald clown, most of whose jests were of sin and harlotry. He knew quite well how to steal grain and charge thrice over, but yet he really remained reasonably honest. The coat he wore was white and the hood blue. He could play the bagpipe well and let us out of town to its music.

Once on a time was dwelling in Oxford A wealthy man who took in guests to board, And of his craft he was a carpenter. A poor scholar was lodging with him there. . . [79 ff] Once upon a time there lived at Oxford a rich peasant, a carpenter by trade, who took boarders into his home. A poor scholar boarded with him.

‘As I hope to prosper, things are going well; the bag is open. Now let’s see who will tell the next tale, for, certainly, this game is off to a fine start. Now, Sir Monk, you tell a tale, if you know something to match the Knight’s. ’ (7 -10)

The Knight

‘cherl’(s) Miller Reeve

‘Pilatis vois’ – a loud bombastic voice. That voice is actually a stage voice – it refers to the swearing, ranting, bragging speech of the biblical villain Pontius Pilate in the Medieval English plays about Christ’s crucifixion

As opposed to the official feast, one might say that carnival celebrates temporary liberation from the prevailing truth of the established order; it marks the suspension of all hierarchical rank, privileges, norms and prohibitions. Carnival was the true feast of time, the feast of becoming, change and renewal. It was hostile to all that was immortalized and complete. [Bakhtin, Rabelais and his World, 1969, p 109] Breughel – fight between Carnival and Lent

‘Symbolic inversion’ may be broadly defined as an act of expressive behaviour which inverts, contradicts, abrogates, or in some fashion presents an alternative to commonly held cultural codes, values and norms be they linguistic, literary or artistic, religious, social and political. [Barbara Babcock, The Reversible World, 1978, p. 14] Breughel

Fabliau – the most important comic genre for Chaucer ‘A Fabliau is a brief comic tale in verse, usually scurrilous and often scatological or obscene. The style is simple, vigorous, and straightforward; the time is the present, and the settings real, familiar places, the characters are ordinary sorts – tradesmen, peasants, priests, students, restless wives; the plots are realistically motivated tricks and ruses. The fabliaux thus present a lively image of everyday life among the middle and lower classes. . . [However] the plots convincing though they seem, frequently involve incredible degrees of gullibility in the victims and of ingenuity and sexual appetite in the trickster-heroes and heroines. [The Riverside Chaucer, p. 7]

Heile of Basle (Antwerp) Heile, an Antwerp prostitute, makes appointments with three different men for different hours of the night. William, a miller, comes first. After he has enjoyed Heile’s favors for a time, the second man, a priest, comes at this appointed hour. Heile tells William to hide in a trough which hangs from the rafters, then lets the priest in. After thrice satisfying the priest, she (and William in the trough above) hear him preach a little sermon on how God will soon drown all the people in the world with a terrible flood. Then comes at his appointed hour the third lover, a smith named Hugh. Heile tells him that he cannot come in now, for she is not well. When Hugh begs for at least a kiss, Heile tells the priest to let the foolish smith kiss his behind. The priest puts his behind out a little window and Hugh kisses it with great zeal. When he realises from the feel and the smell what has happened, the angry smith runs home and heats an iron. When he returns and insists on a second kiss, the priest assumes his former position and Hugh strikes. “Water! I am dead!’ cried the priest. Hearing this cry, William thinks that the flood the priest had spoken of has come, and he cuts the rope that holds up his trough. He breaks his arm and his thigh when he comes crashing down. The priest, thinks Williams must be the devil, runs into a corner and falls into a privy. This story shows what happens to men who deal with prostitutes.

Modern Prose Translation The Miller was a very husky fellow, tremendous in bone and in brawn which he used well to get the best of all comers: in wrestling he always won the prize. He was stocky, broad, and thickset. There was no door which he could not pull off its hinges or break by ramming it with his head. His beard was as red as any sow or fox, and as broad as a spade. At the right on top of his nose he had a wart, from which there grew a tuft of hairs red as the bristles of a sow’s ears, and his nostrils were wide and black. A sword and a shield hung at his side. His mouth was as huge as a large furnace, and he was a jokester and a ribald clown, most of whose jests were of sin and scurrility. He knew quite well how to steal grain and charge thrice over, but yet he really remained reasonably honest. The coat he wore was white and the hood blue. He could play the bagpipe well and led us out of town to its music.

Opening paragraph of The Canterbury Tales When April with its gentle showers has pierced the March drought to the root and bathed every plant in the moisture which will hasten flowering; when Zephyrus with his sweet breath has stirred the new shoots in every wood and filed, and the young sun has run its half-course in the Ram, and small birds sing melodiously, so touched in their hearts by Nature that they sleep all night with open eyes – then folks long to go on pilgrimages, and palmers to visit foreign shores and distant shrines, known in various lands; and especially from every shire’s end of England they travel to Canterbury, to seek the hold blessed martyr who helped them when they were sick.

Images of Spring

Hey ho (fabliau) A Penis Tree

Monumental ‘toute’

Nicholas anon leet fle a fart As greet as it had been a thonder dent Nicholas let flay a fart with a noise as great as a clap of thunder

Alison, Nicholas, Absolom

Alison Fair was this youthful wife, and therewithal As weasel's was her body slim and small. A girdle wore she, barred and striped, of silk. An apron, too, as white as morning milk About her loins, and full of many a gore; White was her smock, embroidered all before And even behind, her collar round about, Of coal-black silk, on both sides, in and out; The strings of the white cap upon her head Were, like her collar, black silk worked with thread, Her fillet was of wide silk worn full high: And certainly she had a lickerish eye. She’d thinned out carefully her eyebrows two, And they were arched and black as any sloe. She was a far more pleasant thing to see Than is the newly budded young pear-tree; And softer than the wool is on a wether. Down from her girdle hung a purse of leather, Tasselled with silk, with latten beading sown. In all this world, searching it up and down, So gay a little doll, I well believe Or such a wench, there’s no man conceive. Far brighter was the brilliance of her hue Than in the tower the gold coins minted new And songs came shrilling from her pretty head As from a Swallow’s sitting on a shed Therewith she’d dance too, and could play and sham Like any kid or calf about its dam. (125 ff. ) Wanton (inviting eye) ‘weasel’ (126) ‘pretty colt’ (155) ‘kid or calf’ (152) ‘swallow’ (150) ‘wether’ (141) pear-tree (140) gold coins (148) ‘primrose’ (160) ‘tender chicken’ (160) ‘little doll’ (145) ‘her mouth was sweet as bragget or as mead’ (148) [A sort of ‘blazon’ – a detailed portrait of beauty seen in parts]

. . . kept close watch upon her, for she was wild and young, while he was old and though himself likely to be cuckolded. Being ignorant, he did not know of Cato’s advice that a man should marry a woman similar to him. Men should wed their contemporaries, for youth and age are often at odds. But since he had fallen into the trap, he had to bear his burden like other people. (118 -124)

This carpenter had recently married a wife, Whom he loved more than he loved his life; And she had become eighteen years of age. Jealous he was and held her close in cage. , For she was wild and young, and he was old; (113 -117)

The Seduction Now sire, and eft, sire, so bifel the cas That on a day this hende Nicholas Fil with this yonge wyf to rage and pleye, Whil that hir housbonde was at Oseneye As clerkes ben ful subtile and ful queynte; [devious] And prively he caught hire by the queynte; [crotch] And seyde, “Ywis, but if ich have my wille, For decrne love of thee, lemman, I spille. ” And heeld hire harde by the haunchebones, And seyde, “lemman, love me al atones, Or I wold yen, also God me save!” (163 ff) • • • Now, sir, and again, sir, one day it happened that clever Nicholas began to tease and flirt with this young wife while her husband was at Oseney (for clerics are subtle and sly), and he slipped his hand intimately between her legs, and said: ‘Surely, unless I can fulfil my burning desire for you sweetheart, I will die. ’ Then he grasped her roughly by the hips and said: ‘Sweetheart, make love with me right now or I will die, God save me!’

And so it was that later As the miller told his tale That her face, at first just ghostly, Turned a whiter shade of pale [A Whiter Shade of Pale – Procol Harum]