The Canterbury Tales, part eins

We all have individual reasons for reading books. My top three consist of:

1. Pure escapism

2. Curiosity

3. Bragging rights

When I picked up Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales, I was driven mainly by reasons two and three. My curiosity was piqued when we read Tim Gautreaux’s short story “Died and Gone to Vegas” in my Lit Analysis class, which was apparently a Cajun satire of said tales. The pure prestige that comes with reading these famously difficult collection of stories also made the package much more attractive, and, sadly, are a main factor in many of the books I read.

The translation I checked out from the library is 463 pages, and, at the time of this post, I am on page 270 (the summoner’s tale). What has jumped out immediately about The Canterbury Tales is:

1. They are not as difficult to read as I expected.

2. The true mastery of the story, or what I’m impressed most by, is the varying voices and tone that Chaucer chose to use for each character.

3. They are incredibly dirty.

You think I’m joking about that last one? I’m not. The Canterbury Tales are the dirtiest thing I’ve read in a long time. Old Geoffrey was a medieval pervert, you can bet your tuppence. He most certainly spent most of his time peeping under women’s tunics, when he wasn't pissing off John Gower.

I am hoping to be finished with these tales by Tuesday, the 24^th. We’ll see where the wind blows me. In the meantime, I encourage all to look up the short story "Died and Gone to Vegas" by Tim Gautreaux. It is a literary treat.