Donald R. Howard: the "idea" man

Scholars so often assume that the plan for the Canterbury Tales is the Host's proposal in the General Prologue--two stories going and two stories on the return--and that Chaucer did not complete it for want of time or interest or because he changed his mind. Howard's thesis, instead, is that "he had a far more complex idea and he did in large measure execute it." (The Idea of the Canterbury Tales)
     It was a revelation to be told to "consider this failure of the plan a feature of the story, not a fact about the author's life"! Then we can read the book "as it is, not as we think it might have been." Howard proposes--"It is unfinished but complete." After noting a litany of omissions, Howard's conclusion is fascinating: "The pilgrimage is eerily symbolic when you squint and see the whole."
     Critics often see passages difficult to interpret as lines Chaucer must have meant to delete. We need to give the poet his due; we need to leave room for genius. We need to accept that "Chaucer did not need to finish the tales; what he wrote accomplishes what he needed to accomplish."
     Howard guides our thinking by indicating that the Canterbury Tales "was experienced differently in the fourteenth century from the way it is experienced now." For example, Chaucer's "visual images would spring naturally from the surfaces of the narratives creating associations and meanings at the deepest level of consciousness"--associations modern readers may not recognize at all. The detailed description of the pilgrim's clothing "characterize them as individuals [but], never as pilgrims." Typical rituals were associated with pilgrimages, but "not a word is said of any religious observation . . . shrines along the way are never mentioned."
     It has been a modern endeavor to calculate realistically how long the journey to Canterbury would take. For centuries, however, the idea of pilgrimage "had the metaphorical significance of a one-way journey to the Heavenly Jerusalem: the actual trip was a symbol of human life, and the corollary, that life is a pilgrimage, was a commonplace." This pilgrim journey takes place unrealistically in one day: beginning when the sun rose and ending as the gathering darkness signals the end of the life of man.
     The stories are not what makes the Canterbury Tales so remarkable. It is Chaucer's genius for creating the world of the pilgrimage that is unique and captivating. The poet "adds complexity by having his alter ego perform as the actual teller of all the tales."
     Rather than fragmenting the author's role, as many scholars do, Donald Howard accepts all possibilities regarding Chaucer the narrator as "the man, the pilgrim, or the poet, we never know positively which we are hearing and are not meant to know."
     The Canterbury Tales were not finished at the time of Chaucer's death. It is often assumed he would have changed or added much. Why has the Canterbury Tales been approached this way? "Because of the statement in the General Prologue that each pilgrim is to tell two tales on either leg of the journey. And yet this is not Chaucer's statement; it is the Host's, as reported by the narrator."
     As we arrive at the intro to the final Tale, it should be difficult to ignore "all the talk just outside Canterbury about knitting things up and making an end, one assumes the work is over." It appears that Chaucer, "far from having 'changed his mind,' never had any idea of depicting the return journey. The one-way 'pilgrimage of human life' was a conventional metaphor, and would have been an effective frame for the work."

Thanks to Donald Howard's "idea" we can read through the Tales without the distraction of nagging questions about its oddities. We can simply see many as the yet unrevealed genius of Geoffrey Chaucer.

But first . . .

Soon after I began working on Chaucer's reference to the moon's exaltation, which appears to be an astrological "mistake," I realized how much background would be necessary to be able to accept my explanation. So, first I'll give you what I see as the basic structure of the plan for the Canterbury Tales.
     Here is the most important thing to keep in mind: The movement of the zodiac is the basis of the plan. That fact is not obvious on the surface because allegories were intended to be obscure. Searching for the inner meaning, in this most popular literary form in Chaucer's day, challenged and entertained. Discovering the covert message was looked upon as a reward.
     The General Prologue introduces the characters. We've dealt with that already in the entries called "Written in the Stars." That's where Chaucer delights in teasing as he says the Friar has eyes (2 major stars in the constellation) that twinkle in his head like stars on a frosty night; and the Cook "makes " blankmanger--white manger--because a star cluster in this zodiac sign is called The Manger.
     Movement begins after the introductions are complete. The poet uses ambiguous words--degree and array--to describe the Pilgrims. Both words can indicate a quality of human or celestial appearance. When the Host gathers the Pilgrims together, that is when they set out on their journey. Now, to talk about the succession of signs of the zodiac is the same as talking about Time. Time, in the Middle Ages, was pictured as a circle. When all of the stars returned to the place where they were when Time began, the circle would close. That would be the end of Time, the end of the world, the Day of Judgment. As Chaucer says:

. . . in certain years space
Every star should come into its place
Where it was first, and all should have in mind
That in this world done is all mankind.

Those lines express Chaucer's complete design. Before the journeyers (the celestial travelers) set out, the Host tells them they will all return to their point of departure at the end of their journey. At the conclusion, the position of all twenty-nine will be--Here in this place, sitting by this post, When we come again.   
     His whole intention is subtly disclosed. Time begins as they leave and is about to end as the Host calls on the last storyteller. He urges the Pilgrim to make haste; the day is at an end.
      Let's repeat--the movement of the zodiac is the basis of the plan. The disguised travelers are not earthbound! Chaucer demonstrates that by what he doesn't say. That is why no human or environmental limitations are presented. He says nothing of a pleasant countryside. There is no mention of weather or road conditions. They never pass through a town. They never stop to eat or rest. They interact with no one outside their group. Nothing invalidates their celestial existence. Though an actual journey from London to Canterbury would have taken several days, the poet portrays Time as one symbolic day.
     Action found in the Tales is not to be confused with activities of that day. The stories are not the journey. The function of each story, I'm sure, is to aid in confirming the hidden identity of the storyteller. We'll talk about that sometime.
     But next we'll look into what is predicted as Time ends.