"Blog - A public internet journal kept by individuals who obviously have no shame."
Monday, November 17, 2003
Some people wonder if Chaucer�s Canterbury Tales are an accurate representation of medieval England. No one really wonders if Monty Python and the Holy Grail is an accurate representation of medieval England because it is widely accepted as a mere comedic farce of Arthur�s Knights of the Round Table and their quest for the Holy Grail. In fact, were one to suggest that there might actually be any hint of historical fact in the movie beyond the suits of armor and such, it would be generally considered to be rubbish. To this end, I intend to compare and contrast several important points in each of these works to ascertain which is the more accurate of the two.
Foremost, the Knight in Chaucer�s prologue is represented as a man of valor, though somewhat rough around the edges, and yet capable of telling a long and eloquent tale which was omitted from our textbook. In contrast, the knights of Monty Python can be found singing, invading nunneries, fighting mythical beasts, and engaging in general tomfoolery. There are knights who say �nee!�, knights with three heads, and French knights with outrrrrageous accents and unusual skill at taunting and catapulting animals. It should be obvious that any good knight most likely achieved his station by long and hard battle training, and as such, is a rather grizzled and war-hardened fellow; this is not often synonymous with long and eloquent stories, and typically results in far poorer manners and disposition than displayed by the Chaucer�s Knight. We further distribute points to the knights of Monty Python for their fighting prowess in the absence of limbs, their ingenious assaults upon French strongholds, and their creative use of coconuts.
Second, we consider the figure of the nun. In the Canterbury Tales, Chaucer�s Lady Eglatine is a very attractive and very refined woman, yet remains (or seems to remain) chaste and pure in spite of all the corruption of the church. However, how accurate can this be? It is painfully obvious that any woman as beautiful as he describes would have been married off in an instant, leaving no chance whatsoever for nun-hood. Thus, Chaucer must have either been drunk when he came up with the character, or simply had a crush on the character, either of them causing him to see her in a much more attractive light than she truly deserved. The nuns of Holy Grail were far more realistic in this manner; as beautiful maidens between the ages of 17 and 19 (or something like that), they were rightly cloistered in a castle with such an ominous name as Anthrax to keep away people like that grabby Friar of Chaucer�s, as opposed to Eglatine who traveled along with the company of this common rabble out in the open. The nuns of Castle Anthrax were definitely more lovely and devoted than the nun presented by Chaucer, and therefore far more realistic.
The presentation of the commoners is the most damning evidence of all. Chaucer presents all of his characters with great personality traits and very different costumes, yet the cloths available were almost all gray or brown, and generally very similar, as portrayed in Monty Python. Further, all of the commoners in the Canterbury Tales were undertaking this pilgrimage to Canterbury, but they would have mostly starved in the meantime, as they were not working during this trip. Since there was no such thing as paid vacation in those days, this idea of being able to just up and make pilgrimages is absurd. Further, as plainly stated in the Holy Grail, Arthur is king because �he hasn�t got sh� all over him.� Since Chaucer fails to mention his commoners covered in excrement, he ends up painting an entirely unreasonable picture of them.
However, this can all be summed up simply in the presentation. Whereas Monty Python and the Holy Grail is a highly interesting and informative look into the past that approaches topics like medieval combat and witch-trials in a well-thought and insightful manner, Chaucer�s Canterbury Tales are an inaccurate and ill-conceived set of descriptions of an unlikely lot of people written in an entirely illegible form of English. However, the final point must go to the Tales, for Monty Python makes an irreparable error in breaking the fourth wall at the end, showing Arthur escorted away by the police. Now, if only we could get the gents of Monty Python to bring the characters of the Canterbury Tales to life, then we might have something; I see John Cleese as the Wife of Bath. (Note: this entire journal is written along the vane of Monty Python, having just seen it for the fiftieth time, with the main intent being comedy, rather than thorough slander and misinterpretation of Chaucer. Though that occurred as well.)
Foremost, the Knight in Chaucer�s prologue is represented as a man of valor, though somewhat rough around the edges, and yet capable of telling a long and eloquent tale which was omitted from our textbook. In contrast, the knights of Monty Python can be found singing, invading nunneries, fighting mythical beasts, and engaging in general tomfoolery. There are knights who say �nee!�, knights with three heads, and French knights with outrrrrageous accents and unusual skill at taunting and catapulting animals. It should be obvious that any good knight most likely achieved his station by long and hard battle training, and as such, is a rather grizzled and war-hardened fellow; this is not often synonymous with long and eloquent stories, and typically results in far poorer manners and disposition than displayed by the Chaucer�s Knight. We further distribute points to the knights of Monty Python for their fighting prowess in the absence of limbs, their ingenious assaults upon French strongholds, and their creative use of coconuts.
Second, we consider the figure of the nun. In the Canterbury Tales, Chaucer�s Lady Eglatine is a very attractive and very refined woman, yet remains (or seems to remain) chaste and pure in spite of all the corruption of the church. However, how accurate can this be? It is painfully obvious that any woman as beautiful as he describes would have been married off in an instant, leaving no chance whatsoever for nun-hood. Thus, Chaucer must have either been drunk when he came up with the character, or simply had a crush on the character, either of them causing him to see her in a much more attractive light than she truly deserved. The nuns of Holy Grail were far more realistic in this manner; as beautiful maidens between the ages of 17 and 19 (or something like that), they were rightly cloistered in a castle with such an ominous name as Anthrax to keep away people like that grabby Friar of Chaucer�s, as opposed to Eglatine who traveled along with the company of this common rabble out in the open. The nuns of Castle Anthrax were definitely more lovely and devoted than the nun presented by Chaucer, and therefore far more realistic.
The presentation of the commoners is the most damning evidence of all. Chaucer presents all of his characters with great personality traits and very different costumes, yet the cloths available were almost all gray or brown, and generally very similar, as portrayed in Monty Python. Further, all of the commoners in the Canterbury Tales were undertaking this pilgrimage to Canterbury, but they would have mostly starved in the meantime, as they were not working during this trip. Since there was no such thing as paid vacation in those days, this idea of being able to just up and make pilgrimages is absurd. Further, as plainly stated in the Holy Grail, Arthur is king because �he hasn�t got sh� all over him.� Since Chaucer fails to mention his commoners covered in excrement, he ends up painting an entirely unreasonable picture of them.
However, this can all be summed up simply in the presentation. Whereas Monty Python and the Holy Grail is a highly interesting and informative look into the past that approaches topics like medieval combat and witch-trials in a well-thought and insightful manner, Chaucer�s Canterbury Tales are an inaccurate and ill-conceived set of descriptions of an unlikely lot of people written in an entirely illegible form of English. However, the final point must go to the Tales, for Monty Python makes an irreparable error in breaking the fourth wall at the end, showing Arthur escorted away by the police. Now, if only we could get the gents of Monty Python to bring the characters of the Canterbury Tales to life, then we might have something; I see John Cleese as the Wife of Bath. (Note: this entire journal is written along the vane of Monty Python, having just seen it for the fiftieth time, with the main intent being comedy, rather than thorough slander and misinterpretation of Chaucer. Though that occurred as well.)
This summer was a very interesting one by many standards. I was again at Washington College for an internship studying the persistence of Helicobacter pylori in drinking water. At the beginning of the summer I spent a lot of time at my old high school (QACHS) for Driver�s Ed, which put me in close contact with some of my old teachers and a good friend and mentor. She was able to give me a lot of good perspective on my life at the time, and the experience as a whole gave me a removed look at high school life and what people my actual age or a little younger are doing. Quite frankly, I was a little frightened by that, but that is another story. For the internship I was at WC for ten weeks right in the middle of the summer, and I stayed at one of the cottages on campus mainly to get away from home as much as possible. There were some people on campus that I knew, but fewer than last summer, and therefore far fewer than I am used to having on campus. I still had some contact with my parents and occasionally visits from friends in the area, but the majority of my time was spent alone. Both my second Freshman semester and the following summer were the most alone I had ever been at that point, both times with a single, but still with friends around. However, this summer gave a new meaning to the word alone. Not only was I here with fewer people than ever before, but I didn�t know them as well and I didn�t have time to get to know them better. This is fortunate in the sense that it gave me a lot of time to think about things and get parts of my life in order that were somewhat disorganized at the time � which is something that I not only miss, but could seriously use right now � but I was still lonely for much of the time.
I managed to fill this vacuum with a variety of distractions. I have always been particularly attached to video games, and this summer was a prime time for game time. However, there is only so much time one can devote slaving away to an electronic taskmaster without honestly rotting one�s brain (your parents weren�t kidding!). Further, after long enough hours spent playing alone in a dark room, it just loses its charm. Chestertown is a very nice place to walk around in the evenings when there is enough breeze to keep of the swarms of bloodthirsty West Nile-carrying mosquitoes, and eventually I started to do just that. It was in this calming method of taking up my time that I eventually found solitude, for my travels led me eventually to the Lelia Hynson Pavilion near the boathouse. In the nice evening sea breeze or in the more rambunctious winds before a storm, the pavilion is an incredibly nice place to sit and enjoy the evening while contemplating one�s life, situation, and surroundings. I even managed to compose a haiku once while biding my time there, and it rather embodies the gist of my discourse:
sunset, reeds whisper
soothing phrases; loneliness
becomes solitude
In these daily pilgrimages to the waterfront, often all alone, I felt less lonely than I did at almost any other time this summer. I don�t know if it was the beauty of the view I was treated to when I timed my walks properly with the sunset or if it was just the action of getting out of my room and outdoors, but it seemed to work wonders on any loneliness I felt. I can�t say that I found nirvana or felt at one with the world, but I did feel much happier about being left mostly to myself, and it became much easier to think about some of the problems and issues I contemplated by day. I have never felt quite as strongly the difference between loneliness and solitude as I did sitting on that deck, and I am sorry that I will rarely be able to do the same again, first because of the weather during most of the year, and then because I doubt I will spend next summer here. However, when I occasionally feel lonely at the dorm, or when I wish I had someone to just be around, I can think back to that time and place and feel better.
I managed to fill this vacuum with a variety of distractions. I have always been particularly attached to video games, and this summer was a prime time for game time. However, there is only so much time one can devote slaving away to an electronic taskmaster without honestly rotting one�s brain (your parents weren�t kidding!). Further, after long enough hours spent playing alone in a dark room, it just loses its charm. Chestertown is a very nice place to walk around in the evenings when there is enough breeze to keep of the swarms of bloodthirsty West Nile-carrying mosquitoes, and eventually I started to do just that. It was in this calming method of taking up my time that I eventually found solitude, for my travels led me eventually to the Lelia Hynson Pavilion near the boathouse. In the nice evening sea breeze or in the more rambunctious winds before a storm, the pavilion is an incredibly nice place to sit and enjoy the evening while contemplating one�s life, situation, and surroundings. I even managed to compose a haiku once while biding my time there, and it rather embodies the gist of my discourse:
sunset, reeds whisper
soothing phrases; loneliness
becomes solitude
In these daily pilgrimages to the waterfront, often all alone, I felt less lonely than I did at almost any other time this summer. I don�t know if it was the beauty of the view I was treated to when I timed my walks properly with the sunset or if it was just the action of getting out of my room and outdoors, but it seemed to work wonders on any loneliness I felt. I can�t say that I found nirvana or felt at one with the world, but I did feel much happier about being left mostly to myself, and it became much easier to think about some of the problems and issues I contemplated by day. I have never felt quite as strongly the difference between loneliness and solitude as I did sitting on that deck, and I am sorry that I will rarely be able to do the same again, first because of the weather during most of the year, and then because I doubt I will spend next summer here. However, when I occasionally feel lonely at the dorm, or when I wish I had someone to just be around, I can think back to that time and place and feel better.
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