Chaucerian irony...What a crock.
As you can tell from yesterday's post, I've been reading Mark Twain's The Innocents Abroad recently. It's an unusual book to say the least, and I will get to how it connects to Chaucerian irony in a moment. Let's begin, though with Chaucerian irony itself.
Let's start by calling irony, at least some irony as the art of saying one thing while meaning something else. Chaucerian irony could be considered the art of saying something, but meaning something that is not there at all, though it is clearly implied. This, of course, is the light definition. Really it tends to be re-defined to suit the needs of whoever is writing about it. You can see from the definition, though, that's it gives you a lot of leeway in terms of interpretation. Now, I'm not actually suggesting that Chaucerian irony doesn't exist. I think it's pretty clear that a lot of what Chaucer says is intended to be taken tongue in cheek, but I draw the line at suggesting that Chaucer is implying something by not implying it. Why even refer to the text at all if you're going to make such claims. I might suggest that since Chaucer pointedly avoids reference to cars that he must have been advocating their use as pilgrimage transports. Never mind that cars were not around at the time; he's clearly avoiding them.
Ok, this example is clearly facetious, but similar, questionable statements are made of Chaucer all the time. Let me change direction a little a point to a larger problem that the idea of Chaucerian irony is involved with. Chaucer wrote a very long time ago. Or, for Medievalists, around the late part of the 14th century. It's pretty clear to most people that, as a species, our views of society, our philosophy, and our way of life are vastly, vastly different than those of people in Chaucer's day. It wasn't all that long ago that issues like equality across lines of gender or race were considered unimportant. There is still a tendency, even in this world we call "modern" to treat people differently based on religious beliefs, sexual orientation, and any number of other factors, not excluding gender and race.
Still, we have made progress and openly racist or sexist statements tend to offend our sensibilities. So what do we do, as a people, when we come across certain "unacceptable" ideas in the works of our great writers. What do we say when Chaucer slights a woman for her independence? Or how about when Shakespeare makes some rather crude racial comments?
We have a tendency to, for lack of a better phrase, throw the baby out with the bathwater. We seem incapable of recognizing that there could be something worthwhile in the work of a person we consider to be immoral. Let's suggest, hypothetically, that there is something wonderful contained in the writings of Adolph Hitler's Mein Kampf. I guarantee you would never hear anything about it. If I were to suggest there were something worth reading I would be vilified. I haven't read it, so I can't really say, but I'll give you a few reasonable examples. Recently we've seen the work of Michelangelo re-evaluated by certain people because of the "taint" of homosexuality. We've also seen the work of Thomas Jefferson criticized because of his relationships with slaves that he owned. Picasso for his womanizing,Gandhi for his treatment of his wife, Shakespeare for his reported drug use. There's a pretty long list. It is not my intent to comment on the morality of any of these issues. Nearly all of us can agree that slavery is wrong, that spousal abuse is wrong, but that's not really the point. The point is that we tend to either whitewash over the sins of those we respect or write them off for their failure to conform to twenty-first century conceptions of morality.
Chaucer, who was clearly not a twenty-first century man, can hardly be criticized for that. He is a representative of the time from which he came, and his work must be evaluated as such. There is a distinct tendency, for instance, to suggest that Chaucer was portraying the Wife of Bath as a positive figure. He isn't. She's loud, brash, obnoxious, and independent. These are not qualities Chaucer is likely to be suggesting are favorable. If there's an element of irony in his description of her, it probably comes about in drawing her in a reasonably favorable light, while subtly attacking her. I don't have a problem with looking at here character in a more "modern" way and noting how our perceptions of women and their roles have changed since the 14th century, or thinking about how a modern businesswoman might receive a similar treatment if Chaucer were writing about her. The standards have changed. Most of us no longer have a Medieval conception of women. Chaucer could not have had anything else. Even if he were the most forward thinking man of his age, he wouldn't even come close to having anything approaching a modern view of women. There's nothing wrong with that, it's just the way that ideas evolve over time. Today we praise Heloise for her strength and dedication. Peter Abelard criticized her for the same thing in the 12th century.
What I'm getting at is that often this idea of irony is just a cover we can use to cover up the "flaws' we find in our artistic cannon. It does us no good, and actually makes me wonder how far we've actually come. Why are we so threatened by the past? I don't really know. I realize that not everyone is guilty of this. There are quite a few papers on Chaucerian irony that are well worth reading, but also quite a few that are probably not. You just have to be careful to question anyone's interpretation, especially those who seem to be putting their own agenda into the mouths of historical figures. Which brings me to Mark Twain.
Mark Twain is a bit of a touchy figure. In such a racially charged culture, you couldn't pay me enough to teach one of his books in a school today. It's just a minefield waiting to go off. However, this is what makes books like Huckleberry Finn such an interesting book to read, and such a relevant book to discuss. The book I'm reading now though is a little different. The Innocents Abroad is a recording of Twain's travels in Europe and the Middle East in the year 1867. It's a pretty lengthy record, full of all kinds of observations, reflections, encounters, and comments. Some of which have a ring of modernity, some which sound dated, but most of them sound distinctively American. The back of the book will tell you that Twain is actually telling the story of his journey through the voice of a character sharing his name but not necessarily his views. "His naive Westerner is a blustering pretender to sophistication, a too-quick convert to culture. Turning the coin, the ruins of antiquity appear but a shadow of their heralded glory; the scenery of Europe and the holy Land dwarfs in contrast to the splendor of a Western landscape." (Signet Classic edition 1966) it is certainly not unlikely that the central figure of the book is intended to be more that a direct representation of Twain himself. However, to suggest that the jingoist language of the book does not come at all from Twain's personal bias, seems to me unlikely. His criticisms are pointed, yes, but so, in places is his wonder and awe.
As I mentioned before Twain is a interesting person. We often take his anti-slavery stance as an indication of his modernity. I would point out, however, that being against the enslavement of a group of people does not imply belief in equality. We tend to ascribe him that trait as well, but I'm not certain it's warranted. After all, there was a good hundred years or more between the end of slavery and the beginning of the Civil Rights movement. It was not a simple transition. To modernize Twain is to put him more than 60 years ahead of his time, a tricky proposition at best. So what can we say about his hews of Europe and the Middle East? There is, undoubtedly some satire here, probably on both sides. Americans at the time would probably have had many similar reactions to other countries. We still have many of them today. Twain is probably pointing out the inconsistencies between the American vision of Europe and the reality. These are visions he probably shared and expectations he saw dispelled first-hand. There's probably a lot of Twain in his character. He may be coloring his perceptions to added effect, but he is there. The subtle racism, elitism, and jingoism that are passive in the story probably reflect views of the time he unconsciously shares.
So yes, we need to account for satire, and irony, but they're not excuses. We can't recreate the past. We can't invent voices to tell us what we want to hear. To do so is self-deceptive, and accomplishes nothing. It's better for us to recognize the differences, to study them. We can see how far we have come, and how far we've yet to go. It would be a better use of our time than applying another coat of whitewash to hide what offends us.
Currently listening to: The Yardbirds - Ultimate
Currently reading: Mark Twain - The Innocents Abroad
Last Netflix Movie: yet again Dawn of the Dead
Let's start by calling irony, at least some irony as the art of saying one thing while meaning something else. Chaucerian irony could be considered the art of saying something, but meaning something that is not there at all, though it is clearly implied. This, of course, is the light definition. Really it tends to be re-defined to suit the needs of whoever is writing about it. You can see from the definition, though, that's it gives you a lot of leeway in terms of interpretation. Now, I'm not actually suggesting that Chaucerian irony doesn't exist. I think it's pretty clear that a lot of what Chaucer says is intended to be taken tongue in cheek, but I draw the line at suggesting that Chaucer is implying something by not implying it. Why even refer to the text at all if you're going to make such claims. I might suggest that since Chaucer pointedly avoids reference to cars that he must have been advocating their use as pilgrimage transports. Never mind that cars were not around at the time; he's clearly avoiding them.
Ok, this example is clearly facetious, but similar, questionable statements are made of Chaucer all the time. Let me change direction a little a point to a larger problem that the idea of Chaucerian irony is involved with. Chaucer wrote a very long time ago. Or, for Medievalists, around the late part of the 14th century. It's pretty clear to most people that, as a species, our views of society, our philosophy, and our way of life are vastly, vastly different than those of people in Chaucer's day. It wasn't all that long ago that issues like equality across lines of gender or race were considered unimportant. There is still a tendency, even in this world we call "modern" to treat people differently based on religious beliefs, sexual orientation, and any number of other factors, not excluding gender and race.
Still, we have made progress and openly racist or sexist statements tend to offend our sensibilities. So what do we do, as a people, when we come across certain "unacceptable" ideas in the works of our great writers. What do we say when Chaucer slights a woman for her independence? Or how about when Shakespeare makes some rather crude racial comments?
We have a tendency to, for lack of a better phrase, throw the baby out with the bathwater. We seem incapable of recognizing that there could be something worthwhile in the work of a person we consider to be immoral. Let's suggest, hypothetically, that there is something wonderful contained in the writings of Adolph Hitler's Mein Kampf. I guarantee you would never hear anything about it. If I were to suggest there were something worth reading I would be vilified. I haven't read it, so I can't really say, but I'll give you a few reasonable examples. Recently we've seen the work of Michelangelo re-evaluated by certain people because of the "taint" of homosexuality. We've also seen the work of Thomas Jefferson criticized because of his relationships with slaves that he owned. Picasso for his womanizing,Gandhi for his treatment of his wife, Shakespeare for his reported drug use. There's a pretty long list. It is not my intent to comment on the morality of any of these issues. Nearly all of us can agree that slavery is wrong, that spousal abuse is wrong, but that's not really the point. The point is that we tend to either whitewash over the sins of those we respect or write them off for their failure to conform to twenty-first century conceptions of morality.
Chaucer, who was clearly not a twenty-first century man, can hardly be criticized for that. He is a representative of the time from which he came, and his work must be evaluated as such. There is a distinct tendency, for instance, to suggest that Chaucer was portraying the Wife of Bath as a positive figure. He isn't. She's loud, brash, obnoxious, and independent. These are not qualities Chaucer is likely to be suggesting are favorable. If there's an element of irony in his description of her, it probably comes about in drawing her in a reasonably favorable light, while subtly attacking her. I don't have a problem with looking at here character in a more "modern" way and noting how our perceptions of women and their roles have changed since the 14th century, or thinking about how a modern businesswoman might receive a similar treatment if Chaucer were writing about her. The standards have changed. Most of us no longer have a Medieval conception of women. Chaucer could not have had anything else. Even if he were the most forward thinking man of his age, he wouldn't even come close to having anything approaching a modern view of women. There's nothing wrong with that, it's just the way that ideas evolve over time. Today we praise Heloise for her strength and dedication. Peter Abelard criticized her for the same thing in the 12th century.
What I'm getting at is that often this idea of irony is just a cover we can use to cover up the "flaws' we find in our artistic cannon. It does us no good, and actually makes me wonder how far we've actually come. Why are we so threatened by the past? I don't really know. I realize that not everyone is guilty of this. There are quite a few papers on Chaucerian irony that are well worth reading, but also quite a few that are probably not. You just have to be careful to question anyone's interpretation, especially those who seem to be putting their own agenda into the mouths of historical figures. Which brings me to Mark Twain.
Mark Twain is a bit of a touchy figure. In such a racially charged culture, you couldn't pay me enough to teach one of his books in a school today. It's just a minefield waiting to go off. However, this is what makes books like Huckleberry Finn such an interesting book to read, and such a relevant book to discuss. The book I'm reading now though is a little different. The Innocents Abroad is a recording of Twain's travels in Europe and the Middle East in the year 1867. It's a pretty lengthy record, full of all kinds of observations, reflections, encounters, and comments. Some of which have a ring of modernity, some which sound dated, but most of them sound distinctively American. The back of the book will tell you that Twain is actually telling the story of his journey through the voice of a character sharing his name but not necessarily his views. "His naive Westerner is a blustering pretender to sophistication, a too-quick convert to culture. Turning the coin, the ruins of antiquity appear but a shadow of their heralded glory; the scenery of Europe and the holy Land dwarfs in contrast to the splendor of a Western landscape." (Signet Classic edition 1966) it is certainly not unlikely that the central figure of the book is intended to be more that a direct representation of Twain himself. However, to suggest that the jingoist language of the book does not come at all from Twain's personal bias, seems to me unlikely. His criticisms are pointed, yes, but so, in places is his wonder and awe.
As I mentioned before Twain is a interesting person. We often take his anti-slavery stance as an indication of his modernity. I would point out, however, that being against the enslavement of a group of people does not imply belief in equality. We tend to ascribe him that trait as well, but I'm not certain it's warranted. After all, there was a good hundred years or more between the end of slavery and the beginning of the Civil Rights movement. It was not a simple transition. To modernize Twain is to put him more than 60 years ahead of his time, a tricky proposition at best. So what can we say about his hews of Europe and the Middle East? There is, undoubtedly some satire here, probably on both sides. Americans at the time would probably have had many similar reactions to other countries. We still have many of them today. Twain is probably pointing out the inconsistencies between the American vision of Europe and the reality. These are visions he probably shared and expectations he saw dispelled first-hand. There's probably a lot of Twain in his character. He may be coloring his perceptions to added effect, but he is there. The subtle racism, elitism, and jingoism that are passive in the story probably reflect views of the time he unconsciously shares.
So yes, we need to account for satire, and irony, but they're not excuses. We can't recreate the past. We can't invent voices to tell us what we want to hear. To do so is self-deceptive, and accomplishes nothing. It's better for us to recognize the differences, to study them. We can see how far we have come, and how far we've yet to go. It would be a better use of our time than applying another coat of whitewash to hide what offends us.
Currently listening to: The Yardbirds - Ultimate
Currently reading: Mark Twain - The Innocents Abroad
Last Netflix Movie: yet again Dawn of the Dead
posted by brian at 3:59 AM
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