A franklin,
in Chaucer’s time, was a freehold landowner whose status would have been that
of minor gentry. Chaucer’s pilgrim is described as having been a member of
Parliament, a magistrate, a sheriff and a district auditor, and would thus have
been a very important person in his local community. He is by no means a poor
man, as is evident from the description given in the General Prologue, which
concentrates on the man’s food consumption.
Indeed, this
is someone who eats as well, or better, than many people would have done had
they been from the higher echelons of society. We are not told if he has a
large family (we learn later that he has “a son”), or if he entertains his
neighbours to dinner on frequent occasions, but his cellars and larders are
stocked as if this must be the case. Surely one person cannot eat all those pies,
partridges and bream!
Although the
only physical description we have is that his beard was as white as a daisy,
suggesting that he is no longer young, we can imagine that he was probably
extremely fat. At a time when a bad harvest meant that people could starve to
death, the morality of a man who consumes so much food must be called into
question.
His tale is
told immediately after that of the Squire, who would have come from the social
stratum just above that of the Franklin. The Squire’s Tale is incomplete, so
the words of the Franklin
at the end cannot be seen as an interruption but as congratulations at the end
of a tale well told. He clearly admires the Squire, and wishes that his own son
had turned out to be as refined. This theme is continued in the short prologue
to his own Tale, as he laments his “rude speech” and lack of education.
Despite these
apologies, he proposes to tell a tale that is a “Breton lay”, which is a genre
not found elsewhere in Chaucer’s writings. This is a short romance or adventure
story such as the “ancient gentle Britons” were believed to have composed in
their Celtic language. This may be based on a myth, because no such stories
have come down to us in either Welsh or Breton, but there are several in French
and English that make reference to geographical features or incidents that
relate to the “Celtic fringe”.
Whatever the
source of the tale Chaucer assigns to the Franklin, all the characteristics of
the Breton lay are present, including romance, magic and chivalry. The setting
is Brittany , the north-west corner of
modern-day France that has
much in common with the Celtic regions of Britain , hence the name.
The Tale
The Tale
starts with an echo of the “marriage debate” that pervaded the tales of the
Wife of Bath, the Clerk and the Merchant, as to who should have “mastery” in
marriage. Here we have a knight, named Arviragus, who offers marriage to a
lady, Dorigen, with the promise that he will not dominate her but allow her a
certain degree of freedom, a state of which the Franklin clearly approves.
After a year
or so, Arviragus has to go to fight in Britain, and is away for two years. This
causes Dorigen great distress and she relies on her friends to keep her sane.
Her fears are made worse when she looks down from the cliffs at the black rocks
that threaten passing ships, especially the one that she hopes will bring
Arviragus back home. The friends therefore decide that she would be happier
away from the coast and take her to a secluded garden where there is a feast
and dancing.
At the dance
is a young squire, named Aurelius, who has long admired Dorigen from afar, in
the approved “courtly love” tradition. He eventually gets his chance to talk to
Dorigen and declare his love, which she rejects.
However, she
then, “in play”, tells him that she will return his love if he can get rid of
all those horrible black rocks that she has been so concerned about. She then
carries on conversing with her friends until nightfall, at which time the
wretched Aurelius prays to Phoebus Apollo, the sun god, to appeal to his
sister, the moon goddess, to bring about a high tide of such height and
duration that the sea covers all the rocks for two years.
Arviragus
comes home, much to the delight of Dorigen, who has forgotten all about the
“promise” made to Aurelius. However, the latter has not forgotten, and tells
his brother about his despair and the prayer he made to Apollo. The brother
recalls that he once saw a book of magic that covered just such an eventuality.
This was at Orleans ,
and he offers to accompany Aurelius there to see if they can find it again.
Needless to say, Aurelius jumps at the chance.
As they get
close to Orleans, they meet a man who knows immediately why they have come
there and takes them to his house, where he demonstrates his magical powers. A
deal is struck and, for a fee of a thousand pounds, the magician agrees to
remove all the rocks from the coast of Brittany .
The three of
them travel to Brittany and the magician works out all the necessary
astrological calculations so that the rocks seem to disappear for a week or
two. Aurelius then goes to Dorigen (Arviragus is away for a short time) and
asks her to abide by her promise, as he has fulfilled its conditions.
Dorigen is
distraught, and considers committing suicide as a way out of this dilemma,
bringing to mind a whole host of examples from classical history and mythology of
women who had sought death rather than dishonour. She weeps and wails for two
full days and nights until Arviragus returns, to whom she tells the full story.
Arviragus’s
reaction is that Dorigen must keep her promise, because nothing is more
important than being true to one’s word. At this point, we can imagine jaws
dropping among the pilgrims listening to the Franklin , because he tells his audience not
to jump to hasty conclusions. Things may yet turn out for the best, he says.
When Aurelius
meets Dorigen, he is suddenly struck by the high-mindedness shown by both
Dorigen and Arviragus and realises that he cannot hold her to her promise and
thus destroy her marriage. Dorigen returns to her husband, they are completely
reconciled and live happily ever after.
However,
Aurelius in now in the situation of having failed in his original intention but
is still deep in debt to the magician. He therefore goes to the magician and
tells him that he felt bound to release Dorigen from her promise, having taken
pity on her plight. Hearing this, the magician releases Aurelius from his bond.
The Franklin
ends by posing a question to his hearers, namely which of the three “forgivers”
in this tale, Arviragus, Aurelius and the magician, was the most “free” or
forgiving? As this tale marks the end of one of the manuscript fragments of the
Canterbury Tales, we do not know if there was any discussion on this point
among the pilgrims, or what Chaucer’s own view might have been on this point.
There may well have been a missing page here, because the next tale, that of
the Physician, begins with no prologue or other linking material.
Discussion
So what can
we make of this “Breton lay”, and how would we answer the Franklin’s final
question today? For one thing, we would surely be uncomfortable with the whole
concept of a throwaway remark, similar to “when Hell freezes over”, becoming
the focus of so much pain and anguish. We would also, surely, not be happy with
the debate over “who is the good guy here”, given that huge damage has been
done to the mental health of an innocent woman, and that “forgiving and
forgetting” hardly undoes the harm that has been caused.
And what do
we make of Arviragus’s siding with Aurelius, who is after all one of his own
squires, on the grounds that keeping one’s word is more important than a
woman’s sexual purity, and that of his beloved wife at that?
But perhaps
that is to look at the Tale with 21st century eyes rather than those
of the 14th century. For the Franklin’s hearers, in a world where a
wife was the virtual property of her husband, and honour meant something very
different to what it means in the Western world today, this topic would have had
different connotations. For one thing, they would have been well aware of the
conventions of courtly love, by which a man could love from afar and never
expect the love to be returned. It is the breaking of that convention by
Aurelius that sets the course for potential tragedy, and perhaps it is on that
basis that his actions are unforgiveable.
Either way,
it is a good story, well told despite the Franklin’s “rude speech”, and one
that raises interesting questions. The fat man on a horse has earned his next
meal.
© John
Welford
No comments:
Post a Comment