The Canterbury Tales: Poetic Exposition is Poetic

As I read the beginning of the prologue, I began to think of a line in Paul Clifford by Edward George Bulwer-Lytton. Even if you don't who the guy is (I didn't until I looked it up), you'll recognize this phrase, "It was a dark and stormy night". Bulwer-Lytton then proceeds to add to this sentence and explain just how dark and stormy the night is, kind of like Chaucer does with this part of the prologue.

So, in our reading, our narrator is off on a journey to Canterbury. He stops at an inn, where he meets a group of 29 people who just happen to be going there, too. He then tells the reader that he is going to give a rundown of who these people were, what position they held, and what they were wearing.

Twenty. Nine. People. Oh boy...

We start with a knight, who is naturally brave, courageous, noble, etc. All qualties we associate with a knight. One that I did found interesting was he isn't described as wearing armor. "Of fustian he wered a gipoun" (75) translates as, when aided by the notations in the book, "He wore a tunic made of rough cloth." That's not the image of a knight I've always held in my head. My knight usually looks a little like this:

Doesn't seem to match what Chaucer describes. It even sounds like his horses are better dressed than he is, which conjours up another weird thought:

Again, probably not what Chaucer had in mind.

We move on to our second person of intrique, "a young squyer" (79). When I got to line 92 "He was as fresh as is the month of May," I was instantly reminded of Shakespeare's Sonnet 18. This lovely, flowery description of the squyer is rather similar. This guy sounds like somebody I would like to be friends with, or at least be an acquaintance.

Further examination shows similarities to Beowulf. Both the knight and the squyer perform manly deeds of courage to earn respect and honor. So far both of them seem to be less arrogant and obnoxious than Beowulf could get, but of course, this is only the prologue.

I am curious about the identity of our narrator. Who is he? Why is he going on a pilgrimage? Why Canterbury? Is he a knight, too? All of these questions make me sound like an announcer in a soap opera.

As far as the language itself goes, I'm finding that when I read it, I can understand fairly well. There are words that we don't use anymore, which has made it awkward at points. Speaking it is an entirely different story. It's so strange to look at Beowulf, the Canterbury Tales, and the text I sent my mom and see how much the English language has evolved and changed. It's not a bad thing by any means. But it's making me think.

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