In the Miller's Tale, the Reeve's Tale and the Merchant's Tale Chaucer draws heavily upon a particular storytelling tradition popular on the continent, that of fabliaux. In contrast to many of the other Canterbury Tales, these contain no lofty romance or commendable morals but rather are intended to give the audience some comic relief by focusing on base or sexual matters. What is impressive is the extent to which Chaucer expands and improves upon the foreign analogues (and possible sources) for his tales, weaving in details which have surprising and revealing ramifications.
Apart from Chaucer's renditions there survives only one other English fabliau, Dame Sirith; this suggests that he must have read or heard some in other languages, mostly French, though he made a number of diplomatic trips to the Low Countries in the 1370s during which he could have encountered Flemish or Dutch versions. Of course it is impossible to know which of, if any, of these Chaucer read or knew, but there can be no doubt that he took the basic threads of the plots from the fabliau tradition. Despite the uncertainty as to whether Chaucer used any of these analogues as sources, it is nonetheless rewarding to study them because they demonstrate just how inventive Chaucer's adaptations are.
One of the most striking aspects of the Miller's Tale is its skilful level of characterisation. Most fabliaux are designed merely to touch on as many taboos as possible and thereby provide the maximum in scurrilous entertainment. While Chaucer does not shy away from the risqué plot-lines he is also concerned to 'flesh out' the characters, which increases the reader's involvement with the story. However, a less careful author might lead the audience to place their sympathy with John the carpenter by allowing him to be seen as the vulnerable and tricked old man he is; this would remove any enjoyment in the dénouement. Chaucer expertly creates a preference for Nicholas by placing his description before John's, and by making the carpenter so credulous and pliable that the clerk cannot be blamed for deceiving him.
Alisoun's physical depiction is telling: it is composed mainly of the details of her clothing - for example, 'And by hir girdel heeng a purs of lether, / Tasseled with silk and perled with latoun (ll.3250, 3251)' - with a few natural similes mixed in: 'As any wezele hir body gent and smal (ll. 3234).' This creates an impression of an animal force encased in the trappings of civilisation. Of particular note is the weasel comparison given above, which has implications of cunning and untrustworthiness; also on line 3248 Alison is said to be as pleasant to look at as a 'pere-jonette tree,' which appears in an erotic context in the lyric 'I have a new garden.' The overall appearance is of a woman charged with sexual energy. An interesting financial comment is made in lines 3269 and 3270: 'For any lorde to leggen in his bedde, / Or yet for any good yeman to wedde;' as Kathryn Jacobs comments, Alisoun is a prize fit for a lord yet only a yeoman would marry a poor woman. It is this disparity between her beauty and her station that leaves her open to suggestions of adultery: perhaps John brings his disgrace upon himself by treating his wife as a chattel.
The Miller's Tale combines the two main types of fabliaux. The first type is that of the senex amans, concerning an old man with a young wife, who usually finds a way of cheating on him. The second type is the tale of 'the biter bit' in which a trickster gets his comeuppance. The Miller's Tale is clearly a tale of the first type, as the eighteen-year-old Alisoun cuckolds her doting but elderly husband with a cunning young man. However, the most memorable scene is that where a furious Absolon brands Nicholas: the lodger's deceit of John is successful but the trick on his rival goes badly wrong. The subplot of Absolon's wooing of Alisoun is Chaucer's own invention; not only does it add depth and humour to the story, but it creates the triumphantly rude and revengeful conclusion.
There are a number of Biblical parallels which influence the way the reader sees the characters. John is equated with Noah and Joseph, the two well-known Biblical carpenters; Alisoun is therefore a parallel of the Virgin Mary. The latter is particularly suggested by Nicholas' song: 'And Angelus ad virgenem he song (l. 3216).' This Annunciation hymn begins, 'The angel, secretly entering her chamber, softly overcoming the virgin's fear, says to her, "Hail!"' The clerk's seduction of Alisoun is clearly therefore a perversion of the angel Gabriel's appearance to Mary. Absolon is a direct reference to Absalom, the errant son of King David whose long hair is shared by his namesake:
Crul was his heer, and as the gold it shoon
And strouted as a fanne large and brode;
Ful streight and evene lay his joly shode.
(ll. 3314-3316)
The Biblical Absalom's vanity leads to his downfall: 'He was riding his mule, and as the mule went under the thick branches of a large oak, Absalom's head got caught in the tree (2 Samuel 18:9),' just as the Miller's Absolon is driven away by his fastidiousness: '..he was somdel squaymous / Of fartyng, and of speche daungerous (ll.3337, 3338).'
Also of Chaucer's own invention is Gerveys, the blacksmith to whom Absolon goes for his weapon of revenge. As this episode is given 25 lines it is worth considering its significance; in this I will draw upon the ideas of Cornelius Novelli. Medieval blacksmiths were associated both with the devil (because of their fiery workplaces) and with preachers, because their shaping of the iron reflected the clergy's duty to shape the heart. Gerveys is therefore an interesting mixture of the diabolical and the divine. Regarding the spurned cleric's desire for revenge, Novelli comments, 'He has switched wholeheartedly to...an alternative concupiscence. What he needs is a spiritual advisor. What he gets is Gerveys (p. 170).' The blacksmith's conversation is peppered with exclamations that could be taken as either pious or blasphemous, for example, '...for Cristes sweete tree (l. 3767),' or, 'By Seinte Note (l. 3771).' This dichotomy posits the question of whether Absolon's revenge is justified and aided by God, or inspired by a mischievous devil.
The burning 'kultour' replaces the heat of Absolon's desire, but the ploughshare is apt in other ways too, as Morey notes: 'Nicholas is repaid in kind for his burning heat, and is "plowed" for having "plowed" where he should not have been (p. 373).' Perhaps more significantly, the ordeal of burning with a hot coulter was part of medieval justice for wives accused of adultery: if the wound healed clean, she was innocent, but if she succumbed to sepsis she was guilty. Absolon is therefore not executing a punishment but attempting to expose Alisoun's adultery. As a part-time barber-surgeon he would have the anatomical expertise to carry out this ordeal; in addition, as Morey comments, 'Absolon, as a clerk in minor orders, is an appropriate administrator of the iudicium Dei (p. 375).' These subtle implications all stem from Chaucer's skilful manipulation of the story, as in the analogues to the Miller's Tale the blacksmith is the thwarted lover, not an unwitting accomplice, and the branding instrument is an undefined 'spit' or 'great iron.' Chaucer's decision to name it as a 'koulter,' with all its ramifications, is an excellent example of the way he improves on his sources.
Susanna Greir Fein discusses the implications of another small detail that Chaucer includes in the Miller's Tale: in line 3692 the reader learns that as part of Absolon's preparations to see Alisoun he places a 'trewe-love' under his tongue. She notes that this plant had several allegorical meanings: firstly, Herb Paris was held to bring faithfulness in love due to its resemblance to a truelove knot. Conversely, herbs were emblematic in folklore of the transience of love: plants fade and die, just as Absolon's love is about to die. Most unusually, the four-leafed plant echoes the shape of the cross, reminding the reader of the clerk's neglect of his parish duties and his readiness to break the Seventh Commandment.
Chaucer's great accomplishment in the Canterbury Tales is how well the tales relate to their tellers and to each other. The Miller's Tale is highly appropriate for the rambunctious Robin described in the General Prologue, and it successfully 'quites' the Knight's Tale which precedes it: both feature love-triangles but the cynical fabliau parody, set amongst working class people, shows that the high ideals of courtly romance are impractical and unrealistic.
The Reeve's Tale is designed to 'repay' the Miller's Tale in turn: the Reeve perceives a slight in the Miller's identification of the humiliated old man as a carpenter. The Reeve's main aim in his tale is therefore to show a miller being deceived and thoroughly demeaned. One delicate way in which Chaucer makes this abasement even more ignominious is the students being Northern, the implication being that anyone who can be tricked by such provincial folk must be very stupid. This linguistic joke is Chaucer's innovation and is much more subtle than is usually found in the fabliau tradition.
This tale is of the 'biter bit' type - the deceitful miller is repaid for his trickery. However there is an extension of this theme in the clerks' vow that they will not be cheated of 'half a pekke / Of corn (ll. 4010, 4011).' The miller manages to revenge this arrogance by giving them the inconvenience of chasing their horse as well as stealing a substantial amount of flour. Of course, Symkyn's humiliation is even greater, as deserved by his repeated theft and his unpleasant character. There is not a senex amans element to the story, although the miller's pride in his illegitimate wife, who he maintains is, 'ycomen of noble kyn (l. 3942),' is reminiscent of the older husband's jealous protectiveness of his young mate. The couple's aspirations to a higher class are also shown by their choice of clothing: 'And she cam after in a gyte of reed; / And Symkyn hadde hosen of the same (ll. 3954, 3955).' Red stockings were considered inappropriate for the lower classes because of their associations with nobility. By having the pompous characters wear them, Chaucer and the Reeve are setting them up for a fall, and ensuring that the reader will enjoy hearing about it.
The Reeve's Tale has several well-documented analogues. The closest is Le meunier et les ii clers, ('The Miller and the Two Clerks') which is the only one to name the host as a miller. Other related stories are De Gombert et des ii clers ('About Gombert and the Two Clerks') and Een bispel van ij clerken ('A Moral Tale about Two Clerics') which share many features of the story. However, having read these tales, it is obvious to what extent Chaucer elaborated on and extended them; they are short and crude, whereas the Reeve's Tale is more detailed and the humour is more tongue-in-cheek. Reading later German analogues such as the anonymous Das Studentenabenteuer and Irregard und Girregar by Rüdiger von Munce shows that Chaucer's detailed style is indeed unusual as these fifteenth century tales are as simple as most of their antecedents.
Boccaccio's Decameron has often been posited as an influence of the Canterbury Tales although it is debatable whether Chaucer actually read it. Decameron IX,6 is an analogue of the Reeve's Tale but it is set uniquely amongst the upper classes, playing on the class differences much as Chaucer does. These two tales are the only ones in the canon of analogues to name the clerks separately and to differentiate as regards their level of aggression and caution: in Chaucer Aleyn takes the risk of visiting the miller's daughter, whereas in Boccaccio one of the noblemen has a long-standing infatuation for the young woman and has created the situation on purpose.
As throughout the Canterbury Tales, Chaucer takes care to relate the tale to the teller, and the violent and vengeful Reeve's Tale certainly seems suitable for the irascible Oswald as described in the General Prologue: 'The reve was a sclendre colerik man.' It also rebuts the Miller's Tale by continuing the descent from the idealistic to the grim and by showing a miller thoroughly humiliated, as he reiterates gleefully at the end of the tale:
Thus is the proude millere wel ybete,
And hath lost the gryndynge of the whete,
And payed for the soper everideel
Of Aleyn and of John, that bette him weel.
His wyf is swyved, and his doghter als.
Lo, swich it is a millere to be fals!
(ll. 4313-4318)
The Merchant's Tale, though in a different fragment to the other fabliaux, is also in part an attempt to 'quite' another tale: the Merchant feels aggrieved at the Clerk's idealistic portrayal of a patient wife, Griselda, much as the Miller is annoyed by the idealism of the Knight's Tale. The Merchant, too, sets about creating an antitype to the preceding tale; his story is set in Italy and features a nobleman from Lombardy, like the Clerk's, but his husband is doting rather than vicious and the wife is conniving instead of meek. The tale is also concerned with the line between illusion and reality, something the Merchant would have had personal experience of as a businessman who needed to maintain a front of prosperity at all times.
The extended introduction to the Merchant's Tale is something one would not expect to find in a fabliau, especially with its learned consideration of Theophrastus, Seneca and Cato. The two advisors of January are reminiscent of Job's comforters, while also representing the moral conscience and the amoral world. Further Biblical parallels can be found in the relationship of January and May. Joseph, husband of Mary, is depicted in the cycle plays as a senex amans, also with visual impairment; May convinces her husband to ignore the evidence of his eyes and believe her words just as Joseph must put his faith in the words of the angel and disregard the worldly view. The action in the walled garden parallels the Fall in Eden, although it is altered by intervention from pagan gods. The inclusion of Pluto and Proserpina is a masterstroke of Chaucer's, as it allows January to progress from blindness to full vision and understanding, only to be metaphorically blinded by his wife's 'explanation.' In analogues of the Merchant's Tale the husband is persuaded that he has an eyesight problem that does not exist, but Chaucer manipulates the story so that it is real.
The former is the case in Lippijn, a short Middle Dutch play that is similar to the Merchant's Tale. In it an old husband sees his wife with her lover but is persuaded by Trise, the wife's godmother, that his vision is faulty and he was seeing goblins. It ends with the husband being beaten; Chaucer ends his tale much more cunningly, with May letting her husband think that he is in control and even hinting that she will soon deliver his heir. The tale is a combination of several fabliau types: the senex amans ; the 'blind husband' type in which he regains his sight and catches his wife in flagrante but she claims that her dishonourable actions have cured him; and the 'enchanted tree' which, the wife or lover claims, makes the husband see her cheating. He also adds another dimension to the tale by setting it amongst the aristocracy:
When Chaucer took a play about peasants and let some of its elements play themselves out on a stage peopled by personages of romance, he set up a tension that makes audiences notice and think about human folly, selfishness and nastiness (p. 249).
Chaucer effectively invents an entirely new stylistic template in order to write fabliaux in English, and Irma Taavitsainen has identified some of its features. Certain phrases are already attached to certain stock characters from folk stories, so that the Alisoun is bound to warn Nicholas, 'Myn housbonde is so ful of jalosie (l.3294)' and he is bound to call her 'lemman (l.3278).' 'What' and 'how' are used as short exclamations that keep the pace of the story fast: 'What! Nicholay! What, how! What, looke adoun! (l. 3477)' 'Harrow' is a genre-specific interjection which Chaucer borrows from the French fabliaux. Elsewhere in the fabliau tales, 'allas' is the stereotypical expression of misery; 'o' is used in invocations; and 'lo' is used to introduce new sections. This last is borrowed from the style of sermons, echoing Biblical certainty and justice ironically in the confused world of fabliaux.
The more scholars learn about the analogues from which Chaucer drew his ideas for his fabliau tales, the more they are impressed by the ways in which he changed them for the better, as Beidler and Decker comment:
Indeed, the primary justification for attempts to discover the sources and analogues of Chaucer's tales is that they give us a means of discovering what is uniquely Chaucerian about them (p. 248).
In the case of the Miller's Tale, the Reeve's Tale and the Merchant's Tale, what is uniquely Chaucerian about them ranges from the smallest details of language and characterisation, through broad cultural commentary and religious parallels, to the integration and adaptation of plotlines. Even these scurrilous little tales are a credit to his reputation.
Beidler, Peter G., 'Chaucer's Reeve's Tale, Boccaccio's Decameron IX 6 and Two "Soft" German Analogues' in Chaucer Review, Vol. 28, No. 3 (Pennsylvania State University Press) 1994, pp. 237-251
Beidler, Peter G., 'The Reeve's Tale and its Flemish Analogue' in Chaucer Review, Vol. 26, No. 3 (Pennsylvania State University Press) 1992, pp. 283-292
Beidler, Peter G. and Therese Decker, ' Lippijn: a Middle Dutch source for the Merchant's Tale?' in Chaucer Review, Vol. 23, No. 3 (Pennsylvania State University Press) 1989, p. 236-250
Bleeth, Kenneth, 'Joseph's Doubting of Mary and the Conclusion of the Merchant's Tale' in Chaucer Review, Vol. 21, No. 1 (Pennsylvania State University Press) 1986, pp. 58-66
Chaucer, Geoffrey, ed. Larry D. Benson, The Riverside Chaucer, (Oxford University Press: Oxford) 3rd edition, 1987
Greir Fein, Susanna, 'Why did Absolon put a "trewe-love" under his tongue? Herb Paris as a healing "grace" in Middle English literature' in Chaucer Review, Vol. 25, No. 4 (Pennsylvania State University Press) 1991 , pp. 302-317
Jacobs, Kathryn, 'Rewriting the Marital Contract: Adultery in the Canterbury Tales' in Chaucer Review, Vol. 29, No. 4 (Pennsylvania State University Press) 1995, pp. 337-347
Morey, James, H., 'The "cultour" in the Miller's Tale: Alison as Iseult' in Chaucer Review Vol. 29, No. 4 (Pennsylvania State University Press) 1995, pp. 373-381
Novelli, Cornelius, 'Sin, Sight and Sanctity in the Miller's Tale: Why Chaucer's Blacksmith works at Night' in Chaucer Review Vol. 33, No. 2 (Pennsylvania State University Press) 1999, pp. 168-175
Robbins, Rossell Hope (ed.), Secular Lyrics of the XIVth and XVth Centuries, (Clarendon Press: Oxford) 2nd edition, 1955
Taavitsainen, Irma, 'Narrative Patterns of Affect in Four Genres of the Canterbury Tales' in Chaucer Review, Vol. 30, No. 2 (Pennsylvania State University Press) 1995, pp. 191-210
