The repulsive Summoner

Our next topic, Aquarius, provides an example of the challenge of allegory. A cardinal rule is that when you recognize the pattern being used (for example, the zodiac), all the parts must be there.

Mythology for Aquarius, the Water Bearer, is vague. The constellation has no special visual display. Chaucer provides only a one-word clue. The narrator says,
          He knows how to call for "Watte" as well as does the pope.
Notes explain that "Watte" intends "Walter." Why change the spelling? Word-play. "Watte" functions on two levels, both as Walter and water. There must be an Aquarius, and minimal evidence identifies him.
     His occupation guides our search for the Summoner's identity within the clique. The task-name--summoner--reverberates. The most profound, most dreaded summons is Death. Death personified was a common medieval device. And why not? The population of Europe in 1400 was only half the number of those alive in 1300, mainly due to the plague. Plays dramatized the spectre summoning pope, emperor, merchant and peasant alike. Preachers, too, spoke of death as a summoner.
     But what does this have to do with Aquarius? Chauliac, physician to the pope, attributed the cause of the epidemic to the celestial conjunction of Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars, which occurred in the 19º of Aquarius. This zodiac figure, and its association with human devastation, brings us back to Chaucer's Pilgrim Summoner.
     Now let's view Chaucer's portrait of the pilgrim.
          A Summoner was there with us in that place,
          That had a fire-red cherub's face.
Medieval cherubs were often illustrated with faces painted red. Cherubim can be messengers of God. This cherubic Summoner does function as a messenger of a higher power. Figuratively, the title related to sickness, old age and death.
     No other pilgrim description is exclusively facial features; his other physical attributes are never mentioned. His face must tell all.
          Afflicted with "saucefleem" he was, with eyes narrow.
          As hot he was and lecherous as a sparrow, 
          With scaly black brows and thin beard.
          Of his visage children were afeared.
          There was no quicksilver, litharge, nor brimstone, 
          Borax, ceruse, nor cream of tartar none,
          Nor ointment that would cleanse and bite,
          That might help him with his whelks white (pustules),
           Nor with the knobs sitting on his cheeks.
His red (inflamed) face and swollen eyelids are, to put it mildly, an unsightly condition. "Saucefleem" meant a form of leprosy. Red and black discolorations were part of the affliction as well as loss of hair. Such a face would naturally be feared by children. He resembles a body dead of the plague or any corpse undiscovered for several days.
     The next line,
         Well loved he garlic, onions, and also leeks
is so specific, there must  be a connection to death or plague. In the Bible, Numbers 11 says, the children of Israel complained about the manna provided by God; they longed for "leeks, onions and garlic" they'd eaten while in captivity. The Lord sends them an overabundance of quail, and then--"the Lord being provoked against the people, struck them with an exceeding great plague." These onions and leeks remind us that an angry God has been known to send a " great plague."
     A grim association follows--wine the color of blood.
          And [he loved] to drink strong wine, red as blood;
          Then would he speak and cry as if we were mad.
          And when he had drunk enough wine, 
          Then would he speak no words but Latin.
When the Summoner has drained the barrel (indicating the end of a life), words in Latin would naturally follow as part of a ceremony for the dead, the Last Rites or the funeral.
          A few [Latin] terms had he, two or three,
          That he had learned out of some decree;
          It's no wonder--he heard it all the day.
Again there is a projection of the dead, with numbers so large that the Latin terms (ceremonies) were heard all day long. The number that perished seemed to indicate that Death had gone mad: the more of the wine of life he consumed, the more he craved.
     We'll take this up next time as we're told what a good fellow he is!

Written in the Stars--Final entry Part 4

This post completes the identification of the signs of the zodiac concealed in the Canterbury Pilgrims.

Capricorn/ the Shipman  Capricorn is inconspicuous. Chaucer creates the connection to the Seagoat by choosing perfect seafaring references--an island off the coast of Sweden--Gotland--and a promontory along the coast of Spain--Cape of Finisterre. (Sterre is star in Chaucer's English.) That is, from goat-land to fin-star. Deneb Algedi (Arabic for Tail's End) is Capricorn's only important star and is properly located on the fin of the tail.

Aquarius/ the Summoner  This singular portrait tells only of his duties and the condition of his face. The zodiac identifier is minimal--a one-word clue. He knows how to call for "Watte" as well as does the pope. Watte is explained as "Walter," but, with this spelling, "Watte" can function as both Walter and water. The task-name of "summoner" is awesome--the ultimate summoner being Death. Chaucer, no doubt, was well-acquainted with the dead and dying. This Pilgrim's appearance has all the possibilities of a victim of the plague. His eyes are swollen almost shut. On his face, there are scabs, large and small pustules, and hair loss. Not surprising--Of his visage children were aferd. And yet, despite his hideous features, he had a way with The young girls of the diocese. As the image of Death personified, the claim is acceptable; death would be irresistible.

Pisces/ the Pardoner  A Christian legend commemorates Pisces as a fish caught be St. Peter; a coin was in its mouth when it was hauled into the boat. Fomalhaut, a star of the first magnitude, has long been called the Fish's Mouth. The Pardoner's fine performance in church, singing and preaching, assured him of a great amount of silver in the collection. That projects a glimpse of Pisces as the fish with the coin in its mouth. A fish portrayed as a human can be seen in details of his smooth hair, yellow as wax, as it spreads over his shoulders in very thin bits one upon another--as an approximation of fish scales. He would never have a beard and his eyes--oddly enough--look to the sides, as the eyes of a fish would, rather than straight ahead.

Each of the Pilgrims has many more details for identification. This just gives a way to begin, an introduction to Chaucer's amazing allegorical method. (The entire analysis with all the scholarly references and sources is the substance of Chaucer's Pilgrims: the Allegory, my third book about the Canterbury Tales.) The search for identifiers has been an exciting adventure.