The Pardoner's Tale (maybe we've done it all wrong)
Pardon me, "For though myself be a ful vicious man, A
moral tale yet I yow telle kan."
What if we've read the "Pardoner'sTale" of Chaucer all wrong?
Here is the prologue to Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" in which he describes the Pardoner.
Here is the prologue to Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" in which he describes the Pardoner.
By the body of the Lord, unless I have a remedy,
Or else a draught of moist and corny ale,
Or unless I hear soon a merry tale,
My heart will break for pity of this maid.
You good friend, you Pardoner,” he said,
“Tell us some mirth of jokes now.”
The host is put out by the tales of sadness and sorrow given by the materialistic Physician and he asks the Pardoner to
The host is put out by the tales of sadness and sorrow given by the materialistic Physician and he asks the Pardoner to
"Tell us some moral thing, so that we may learn
Some wisdom, and then we will gladly hear.”
To this dual request for mirth and wisdom the Pardoner responds
“It shall be done ... by Saint Ronan.
But first,” he said, “here at this ale-house sign
I will both drink, and bite on a cake.”
The Pardoner tells his own prologue describing what he does for a living. In this depiction he proclaims that greed is the root of all evil - yet he himself seems greedy for gold and silver. Indeed, the Pardoner seems quite the hypocritical monster given his prologue.
The Pardoner tells his own prologue describing what he does for a living. In this depiction he proclaims that greed is the root of all evil - yet he himself seems greedy for gold and silver. Indeed, the Pardoner seems quite the hypocritical monster given his prologue.
He then proceeds to tell his tale which can be found here:
This is an excellent video version of this tale if you careth not to rede:
Or this at Encyclopaedia Brittanica:
https://www.britannica.com/video/73103/dramatization-Modern-English-Prologue-Pardoner-The-Canterbury
Dr. Michael Delahoyde of Washington State University sums up the common view of the Pardoner by assuring us that
The archetype behind the Pardoner is Faus Semblant (False-Seeming) from the Jean de Meun section of Roman de la Rose: "a professional hypocrite who pretends to a holiness that he possesses not at all. By way of making an apology for his way of life, False-Seeming explains, with the utmost candor and the greatest pride in his own cleverness, the various guises his hypocrisy assumes. This situation, in which a hypocrite attempts to justify himself by revealing the full truth, provides Chaucer with the essential framework for the Pardoner's prologue" (Donaldson 1091). Chaucer's Pardoner sermonizes in a confessional self-destruction. The Pardoner is also a grotesquery, marginalized to the periphery in manuscript decoration. He's dreadful, vital, and fascinating. For us, he's his own worst enemy and has psychological problems.
The Pardoner is frequently interpreted as hypocritical, vicious, self-serving, and cruel. He is a slimy, smarmy, effete user of others. He uses the most sacrosanct duty of the Church, to offer pardon and peace to suffering humanity, for his own benefit.
But why would Chaucer make so obvious a negative stereotype fitting so easily into every good and pious reader's prejudices? Why would he create a character that merely confirmed his readers' conventional views of what is good and noble? Where else in the work does he draw so one-dimensional and easily loathed a figure as the pardoner? One possible answer seems to be that he doesn't do this at all - either here or anywhere else in the poem. Every other character in Chaucer's writing is complex, somewhat sympathetic, or loathsome in their self-congratulating smugness.
The obvious one-dimensional nature of the Pardoner, though, should arrest the reader that Chaucer is doing something unexpected and not immediately seen. In order to understand the passage better let us entertain a rather novel interpretation of Chaucer's "goatlike" hypocrite.
Chaucer's Pardoner is described as "gentle" (gentil), though never as vicious, corrupt, or cruel. He addresses his fellows in the prologue as "Lordynges" - "sirs" or "my lords" thus putting himself at the feet of others. He directly and without any subterfuge tells them all exactly what he does. Could such bluntness also be exercised with his congregation and those faithful to whom he brings his relics? Why then would they continue to accept his relics and his preaching, knowing what they were getting?
In the initial description we find that the Pardoner has a high, piping voice, like a boy soprano, which contrasts with the Summoner's deep bass. Further, the Pardoner has "bright eyes...like a hare". Were the Pardoner to be a sinister or evil character why would Chaucer depict his eyes as "bright" (full of light) and wide open like the Pantocrator's? And why associate him with a hare (which in Medieval iconography frequently represents fertility, happiness, and the unexpected happenings of God in the created world - witness the odd use of rabbits in illuminated manuscripts)? Even into today's Easter imagery hares play a special role, the Easter rabbit delivering presents and treats as a Christ might deliver blessings, and eggs representing the soul and the fruitful nature of the new year (before the Gregorian calendar in 1563). And why does Chaucer make the association with a goat when describing his voice? (A voys he hadde as smal as hath a goot) when goats were associated in Medieval literature with the Christ?
The Pardoner's song, though seemingly comical, carries the line "Come here, love, to me" - taken from the Song of Psalms and depicts the drawing of the soul toward Christ through an erotic love. IF the Pardoner is a comic Christ, his constant theme is this draw of each soul toward him - and he is accompanied by a bass rival, the Summoner, who also draws souls to him in a darker, demonic way, accusing them of their crimes and demanding they appear in court.
His long, loose hair is yellow like wax, smooth, like flax, thin, sparse and spreading over his shoulders and worn without a cap. Chaucer frequently will fixate on a single element of his character as a focal point that embodies their character (the sore of the cook, for instance, or the wart of the miller) - here the focal point is the hair dwelt on at length. This seems to indicate either that he is ensuring his readers see the Pantocrator image, or he is creating a halo of golden hair around the head of the Pardoner and thus representing in a textual form a saintliness.
More indicative, however, is that the Pardoner has come from Rouncivale. The city could be a reference to Roncevaux in France, the site of Roland's battle against the Payans in 778. The name has literary impact in that it means something that is huge; a giant or monster; a mythological being of great size. Most likely, though, is that Rouncivale was a hospital in Charing Cross, England, whose charter dates to 1236:
On the Thursday before the feast of St. Luke (18th October), 1236, "Gilbert, the Marshal of England, Earl of Pembroke" dated a charter from "London, in the house of the hospital of Runchivalle.
The Pardoner's home parish is this same town and, in literary terms, he carries with him whatever reputation that institute had. Perhaps the reader could intuit that a corrupt man had been taking advantage of the sick at the hospital and selling them pardons - but the interpretation could also be that an association with a healing institute immediately accompanies the character.
Consider this picture by Albrecht Durer
But perhaps this ought not be the considered depiction since it was painted by Durer in 1500, 300 years after Chaucer. Durer, however, was working in a visual tradition that preceded him. Consider Hans Memling's similar work from the late 15th century (1478):
or “The Savior of the world” by Antonello da Messina (1465):
All three are reflective of a visual tradition which can be traced back to Christos Pantocrator from the 6th century and the time of Justinian.
In other words the tradition of depicting Christ not as a dynamic conqueror but as a peaceful, effete, somewhat grimy dispenser of blessings traces far back in European art. The sense of calm detachment, the long hair, the youthful whiskers about the face and the dispensing of pardons all were existent in visual art in England during the time of Chaucer. More extensively, the depiction of Christ as having feminine qualities seems to run through manuscript art, frescoe painting, and even in corpi constructed in wood, painting, or stone sculpture.
Though perhaps contrary to our current senses of a very masculine Christ, this effeminate Christ was a popular image during Chaucer's time. One finds it even in the Romance works depicting Galahad (the Christ-like knight) who is described with effeminate imagery in the Vulgate Cycle.
Like the writers of the Vulgate Cycle of Arthurian Myths, Chaucer knew full well about inverting images and ideas in order to convey his point.
In Weston’s view the writers of the Vulgate knew perfectly well what the Grail signified, and deliberately inverted the story. Others argue that the Grail had no meaning before the Cistercians imposed their own on it. Richard Barber defines the Vulgate story as a “radical rethinking of the idea of the Grail from the hints and half-thought-out ideas of earlier writers.” Richard Cavendish states that the Vulgate cycle “imposed order and coherence on the whole rambling Matter of Britain" and that the surviving Grail romances are not, as Weston thought, half understood remnants of an heretical legend, but “stages in the making of a Christian myth.” Yet it is demonstrably the case that the Vulgate did deliberately invert the themes of Courtly Love so prominent in the original Grail stories.
- Heretic Emperor: The Lost History of King Arthur
Copyright © V M Pickin 2009
Similarly, Chaucer makes a point to illustrate the Pardoner's effeminate characteristics:
No beard had he, nor should he ever have one,
As smooth it was as if he’d just had a shave
and goes so far as to offer an insult to him for not being "manly" enough:
I think he was a gelding or a mare
Though comic (homophobia was not an issue during Chaucer's time) this insult comes from another character, the narrator, and seems to embody the general impression of others in the train. "Who is this gelding? who is this boy? surely he has nothing important to say!" The insult not only echoes an attitude shared with the Pharisees and Scribes in the Temple in Luke 2:41-52 and again at the beginning of Christ's ministry in Luke 4:20-22. But the joke also draws the reader into a false sense of self-congratulation, as though the reader also already knows what kind of man this is going to be.
Because of our preconceived ideas of what holiness is or is not (our land of the known, or the "hometown") we sometimes are blinded to holiness appearing where we do not anticipate it. Thus Chaucer prompts us as readers to misread not only the character of the Pardoner, but also the story he tells.
IF he depicts the Christ why would he NOT have a wallet "Brimful of pardon come from Rome all hot"? After all, at the time of Chaucer the offering of indulgences and pardons was common practice. Abused, yes, but not yet to a crisis of continental proportions as would happen 200 years (a massive starvation, plague, 100 years war) later. Rather, it was a representation of EXACTLY what the Church was supposed to do - namely to pardon sin and ensure salvation, and the Pardoner is an expert at this craft:
But of his craft, from Berwick to Ware,
Never was there such another pardoner
He is the paragon of pardoners; the PARDONER of pardoners - the Christ himself.
Such an interpretation may seem to difficult to accept as it inverts all our pre-conceived notions not only of the text but of what is pious and holy. But Chaucer was not alien to the technique of inversion. In fact (as John Freccero points out in his masterful analysis, "Infernal Inversion and Christian Conversion") Chaucer's Italian contemporary, Dante Alighieri, made ubiquitous use of inversion in his Comedia. Chaucer was not only familiar with Dante's work but admired and even mimicked the Italian in passages of his Tales.
This would suggest that Chaucer also employed the technique of inversion so ubiquitous in Dante's work. The Pardoner seems a perfect example of such a technique, inverting not only the imagery of the Christ known during his time (changing it into a comic Christ) but inverting the notions his readers, ourselves include, tend to bring to the work.
Chaucer's critique is not of the Pardoner's hypocrisy in this sense but of the hypocrisy of all the people eager to ensure their own salvation through a document or a false relic, or the rubbing of an icon.
He is the paragon of pardoners; the PARDONER of pardoners - the Christ himself.
Such an interpretation may seem to difficult to accept as it inverts all our pre-conceived notions not only of the text but of what is pious and holy. But Chaucer was not alien to the technique of inversion. In fact (as John Freccero points out in his masterful analysis, "Infernal Inversion and Christian Conversion") Chaucer's Italian contemporary, Dante Alighieri, made ubiquitous use of inversion in his Comedia. Chaucer was not only familiar with Dante's work but admired and even mimicked the Italian in passages of his Tales.
This would suggest that Chaucer also employed the technique of inversion so ubiquitous in Dante's work. The Pardoner seems a perfect example of such a technique, inverting not only the imagery of the Christ known during his time (changing it into a comic Christ) but inverting the notions his readers, ourselves include, tend to bring to the work.
Chaucer's critique is not of the Pardoner's hypocrisy in this sense but of the hypocrisy of all the people eager to ensure their own salvation through a document or a false relic, or the rubbing of an icon.
For in his bag he had a pillowcase,
Which, he said, was our Lady’s veil
He said, he had a section of the sail
That Saint Peter had, when he went
Upon the sea, till Jesus Christ took hold of him.
He had a cross of copper full of stones,
And in a glass he had pig’s bones.
Chaucer seems to reveal to us, through the fallible narrator, that what most people believe to be relics, icons, guarantees of salvation are only material objects - pillowcases, bones, and words on paper. Our faith, when located in these objects, is mere superstition; a form of magic or witchcraft. If a person holds their faith by these false objects will they not get exactly what they want? In Chaucer's comic vision, the "punishment" for this sort of superstition is to be a dupe;
Chaucer seems to reveal to us, through the fallible narrator, that what most people believe to be relics, icons, guarantees of salvation are only material objects - pillowcases, bones, and words on paper. Our faith, when located in these objects, is mere superstition; a form of magic or witchcraft. If a person holds their faith by these false objects will they not get exactly what they want? In Chaucer's comic vision, the "punishment" for this sort of superstition is to be a dupe;
...when he found
A poor parson dwelling on the land,
In one day he got more money
Than the parson got in two months;
And thus with fake flattering and jests,
He made the parson and the people his apes.
As readers we dislike this because we see the fakery and flattering jest and hate the idea that we might be dupes ourselves. We loathe the Pardoner because he is getting the upper hand on us - but the very fact that we see salvation as a "getting the upper hand" rather than as a woundedness in deep need of forgiveness indicates that we have missed the very point of the tale; we have missed, therefore, real salvation. Our sense of wounded pride is merely enhanced that the duper, the Pardoner, is so effete and thus hypocritical.
This "missing the point" seems to be exactly the point of the Pardoner's Tale. The three lads who think so highly of themselves get duped not only by each other, but by death itself. Their pride makes them think they can cheat or kill death itself (by means of cunning, relics, pardons, or keeping to doctrine) but by the end all three are dead. This, it seems, is the biggest "joke" the Pardoner can tell. How funny to a comic god (the god of Chaucer) that humans so frequently think they are able to outwit their own demise; so filled with pompous wind that they refuse to accept the reality of their own situation; so incapable of humility that they choose death rather than losing at the tale contest. Perhaps Christ would weep at this lethal idiocy, but Chaucer traffics in laughing, not in weeping, and in this his Pardoner is the Christ who dances and laughs.
Ultimately, an interpretation of the Pardoner as the Christ (or even as Christlike) seems highly problematic. But perhaps Chaucer realized this would be problematic because Chaucer had so great an insight into the proud nature of the human heart. He seems to confirm this in his last words describing the flaxen-haired singer. Here the narrator ceases to ridicule his subject and says instead;
As readers we dislike this because we see the fakery and flattering jest and hate the idea that we might be dupes ourselves. We loathe the Pardoner because he is getting the upper hand on us - but the very fact that we see salvation as a "getting the upper hand" rather than as a woundedness in deep need of forgiveness indicates that we have missed the very point of the tale; we have missed, therefore, real salvation. Our sense of wounded pride is merely enhanced that the duper, the Pardoner, is so effete and thus hypocritical.
This "missing the point" seems to be exactly the point of the Pardoner's Tale. The three lads who think so highly of themselves get duped not only by each other, but by death itself. Their pride makes them think they can cheat or kill death itself (by means of cunning, relics, pardons, or keeping to doctrine) but by the end all three are dead. This, it seems, is the biggest "joke" the Pardoner can tell. How funny to a comic god (the god of Chaucer) that humans so frequently think they are able to outwit their own demise; so filled with pompous wind that they refuse to accept the reality of their own situation; so incapable of humility that they choose death rather than losing at the tale contest. Perhaps Christ would weep at this lethal idiocy, but Chaucer traffics in laughing, not in weeping, and in this his Pardoner is the Christ who dances and laughs.
Ultimately, an interpretation of the Pardoner as the Christ (or even as Christlike) seems highly problematic. But perhaps Chaucer realized this would be problematic because Chaucer had so great an insight into the proud nature of the human heart. He seems to confirm this in his last words describing the flaxen-haired singer. Here the narrator ceases to ridicule his subject and says instead;
But finally to tell truly,
He was in church a noble priest.
Well could he read a lesson or a story,
But best of all he sang an offertory:
For well he knew, when that song was sung,
He must preach, and polish his tongue well,
To win silver, as he could very well:
Therefore he sang full merrily and loud.
The "silver" he seeks to win might be the human souls - to win them and have them brought up to the altar at the offertory, broken and contrite, the Pardoner seems most eager to sing the murierly and loude "Com hider, love, to me!"
The "silver" he seeks to win might be the human souls - to win them and have them brought up to the altar at the offertory, broken and contrite, the Pardoner seems most eager to sing the murierly and loude "Com hider, love, to me!"
🥀ðŸ˜
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