Although the timber trade was essential in the tenth century to the global ambitions of the North African Fatimid Caliphate, environmental and political obstacles compelled the Fatimids to obtain most of their precious cargo from Sicily. This article discusses timber’s essential importance to the Fatimids and how they procured this commodity, shedding light on the historical developments that occurred at the ports of al-Mahdiyya and Palermo under the Fatimids as a result of continuous trade between Ifrīqiya and Sicily. Applying a (...) multidisciplinary analysis of Fatimid chancellery documents, historical texts, material culture, environmental history, and history of art, this article considers the role of the timber trade in the urban development of these two port cities. Specifically, it looks closely at the direct role of Ustādh Jūdhar, a tenth-century Fatimid official, in the procurement of timber. The result is a nuanced picture of the complexities of trade in the medieval Islamic Mediterranean world. (shrink)

One vivid description of folktale research, still applicable although more than a half century old, reads, “Folktale study is like a desert journey, where the only landmarks are the bleached bones of earlier theories.” Because theories have proven to be so ephemeral in comparison with the tales themselves , it might seem prudent to place more stock in the tales and less in the theories or at least to take an eclectic approach toward theorizing so as to hedge bets; but (...) not all scholars of folktales exercise more circumspection now than their predecessors did fifty years ago. For example, in Little Red Riding Hood: A Casebook Alan Dundes — one of the most prominent American folklorists of our day — adduces no material dated from before 1697 that is related to the tale “Little Red Riding Hood” but manages nonetheless to question sharply the very notion of valuing early written evidence. By scrutinizing a short Latin poem written in the first quarter of the eleventh century, I hope to refute Dundes's dismissal of literary evidence and to underscore the pertinence of studying medieval literature in coming to grips with that beautiful and elusive phenomenon to which English-speakers give the name “fairy tale.”. (shrink)

The Drunken Man’s Talk: Tales from Medieval China. By Luo Ye. Translated by Alister D. Inglis. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2015. Pp. xxiii + 214. $50 ; $30.

In the prologue to the Parson's Tale, the discourse that is to follow is twice referred to as a “meditacioun.” The Parson states that he will put “this meditacioun” under the correction of clerks , and at the end of the prologue Harry Bailly instructs the Parson: “Telleth … youre meditacioun” . Despite the oddly persistent uncertainty about what the Parson's tale is , few critics have attended to the fact that both Harry Bailly and the Parson call it a (...) “meditacioun,” other than to remark that it seems a curious appellation. I will argue here that the characterization of the tale as a “meditacioun” is careful and deliberate, and I will be concerned to explore the extent to which the tale can be seen as belonging to the late-medieval tradition of meditatio, especially as it developed in Latin from the twelfth through the fourteenth centuries. (shrink)

All specialists who question the diverse components of the medieval universe stress that the ecclesiastical institution occupied a choice place within the sociocultural structure of that world. This is true because of the solidity of its implantation in the century and particularly because of the efficacity of its doctrinal function. In the cultural domain, the production and transmission of knowledge (in addition to the practice of indoctrination that it supposes), the Church was completely sovereign. The ecclesiastical institutions (from simple (...) parish churches to cathedrals and episcopal sees, as well as convents and monasteries) were responsible for the foundation and rise of medieval schools, universities, the centers where books were produced—or more precisely, manuscripts—and the organization of libraries. (shrink)

This paper examines the two main motifs in the Συναξάριον τοῦ τιμη- μένου γαδάρου and the Γαδάρου, λύκου κι ἀλουποῦς διήγησις ὡραία: the Ass’s Confession and the Mule’s Hoof, tracing them back to Medieval western rather than Ancient Aesopic sources. The Appendix deals with the dating and geographical provenance of the common ancestor of these two texts.

Mark Miller's innovative study argues that Chaucer's Canterbury Tales represent an extended mediation on agency, autonomy and practical reason. This philosophical aspect of Chaucer's interests can help us understand what is both sophisticated and disturbing about his explorations of love, sex and gender. Partly through fresh readings of the Consolation of Philosophy and the Romance of the Rose, Miller charts Chaucer's position in relation to the association in the Christian West between problems of autonomy and problems of sexuality and reconstructs (...) how medieval philosophers and literary writers approached psychological phenomena often thought of as distinctively modern. The literary experiments of the Canterbury Tales represent a distinctive philosophical achievement that remains vital to our own attempts to understand agency, desire and their histories. (shrink)

J. Stephen Russell examines the impact that Chaucer's education had on his greatest work, the Canterbury Tales, and demonstrates that understanding the nature of education in the Middle Ages, especially linguistic education, provides important insights into Chaucer's poem.

Two of the tales mentioned in the title are in many ways typical of the great collections of stories to which they belong. What makes them conspicuous is no doubt the intensity of the erotic desire presented as the ultimate law which justifies even the most outrageous actions. The cult of eroticism is combined there with a cult of youth, which means disaster for the protagonists, who try to combine eroticism with advanced age. And yet the stories in question have (...) roots in a very different tradition in which overt eroticism is punished and can only reassert itself in a chastened form, its transformation being due to sacrifices made by the lover to become reunited with the object of his love. A medieval example of the latter tradition is here the Middle English romance, Sir Orfeo. All of the three narratives are conspicuously connected by the motif of the enchanted tree. The Middle Ages are associated with a tendency to moralize ancient literature, the most obvious example of which is the French anonymous work Ovide moralisé, and its Latin version Ovidius Moralizatus by Pierre Bersuire. In the case of The Merchant’s Tale and The Tale of the Enchanted Pear-Tree, we seem to meet with the opposite process, that is with a medieval demoralization of an essentially didactic tradition. The present article deals with the problem of how this transformation could happen and the extent of the resulting un-morality. Some use has also been made of the possible biblical parallels with the tales in question. (shrink)

The Arabic philosophical fable _Hayy Ibn Yaqzan _is a classic of medieval Islamic philosophy. Ibn Tufayl, the Andalusian philosopher, tells of a child raised by a doe on an equatorial island who grows up to discover the truth about the world and his own place in it, unaided—but also unimpeded—by society, language, or tradition. Hayy’s discoveries about God, nature, and man challenge the values of the culture in which the tale was written as well as those of every contemporary (...) society. Goodman’s commentary places _Hayy Ibn Yaqzan _in its historical and philosophical context. The volume features a new preface and index, and an updated bibliography. “One of the most remarkable books of the Middle Ages.”—_Times Literary Supplement_ “An enchanting and puzzling story.... The book transcends all historical and cultural environments to settle upon the questions of human life that perpetually intrigue men.”—_Middle East__ Journal_ “Goodman has done a service to the modern English reader by providing a readable translation of a philosophically significant allegory.”—_Philosophy East and West_ “Add[s] bright new pieces to an Islamic mosaic whose general shape is already known.”—_American Historical Review_. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Critical Tales: New Studies of the Heptaméron and Early Modern CultureDora E. PolachekCritical Tales: New Studies of the Heptaméron and Early Modern Culture, edited by John D. Lyons and Mary B. McKinley; xii & 296 pp. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1993, $36.95.What a difference a decade can make. In 1983 H. P. Clive’s slim Marguerite de Navarre: An Annotated Bibliography made pointedly clear the marginal position of (...) this author in the French Renaissance literary canon, and the relative obscurity of her Heptaméron (there were less than 200 entries dealing with her unfinished collection of stories that first appeared in 1558). The 500th anniversary of Marguerite’s birth in 1992 brought with it a remarkable outpouring of reflections on this neglected masterpiece. Critical Tales ranks among the best of such undertakings. Eclectic in its approach, the volume comprises fifteen articles by scholars whose analyses advance the reader’s appreciation of the Heptaméron in all “its inexhaustible complexity” (p. 279).As complex as Marguerite’s tales may be, Lyons and McKinley have done an admirable job making their volume’s contents as accessible as possible to the growing number of scholars interested in the work both as text and as important artifact in the history of the evolution of narrative. All the articles are in English (with three translated from French). Citations from the Heptaméron appear in French, but for each, the editors include the corresponding page numbers in the most accessible English translation. In addition to a selected bibliography, the volume provides a useful index.The volume’s introduction presents the dominant issues, as well as a sketch of each article’s vantage point. The editors then divide the book into three sections: “Generic Transformations and Graphic Transgressions” (with articles by Robert D. Cottrell, Hope Glidden, Marcel Tetel, Donald Stone, and Tom Conley); “Narrative Systems and Structures” (with articles by Michel Jeanneret, Cathleen M. Bauschatz, François Cornilliat and Ullrich Langer, McKinley herself, Philippe de Lajarte, and André Tournon); “Character and Community” (with articles by Daniel Russell, François Rigolot, Paula Sommers, and Edwin M. Duval). The epilogue that follows, by virtue of its length and quality, could easily be considered the sixteenth article in the collection. It shows how these heterogeneous pieces relate to issues of narrative and narrative theory.Just how radical an upheaval did the Reformation cause? The contributions bear witness to the major changes in ways of thinking and writing that played themselves out even in secular texts. The theological tensions caused by the evangelical movement are evident in all three sections of the volume, and the introduction will lead readers to the relevant essays. Among them, Rigolot’s striking allegorical reading of novella 32 in terms of “The Magadelen Controversy” (i.e., was she really one person or a conflation of three different women?) demonstrates why the discoveries of the intellectually driven philological projects of such humanists as Lefèvre d’Etaples posed such pragmatic [End Page 392] quagmires for the late medieval church. Another piece likely to cause discussion is Duval’s “Et puis, quelles nouvelles?” His lexical findings on the Renaissance meaning of nouvelle lead him to conclude that the ten characters assembled at Saint-Serrance “do no tell tales” but rather “report news” (p. 245). For Duval the evangelical resonances of the “Good News” highlight the fundamental philosophical dilemma in the discussions of the frame story characters: how to reconcile living in the world of news while still abiding to the Word of the Good News.For articles more specifically on narrative theory, readers will benefit from the epilogue by using its insights and directional signs to locate those essays particularly relevant to their interests. Among these, two focus on the interplay between the revolution in printing and narrative strategies. In “Modular Narrative and the Crisis of Interpretation,” Jeanneret shows how the short tale structure of the Heptaméron was part of an important Renaissance trend favoring creation of “modules,” defined as moveable segments of discourse that could be reassembled and put to other uses, while at the same time allowing for the intercalation of commentary. In his “The Graphics of... (shrink)

Después de la Reconquista, se tuvieron que traducir al latín muchos textos árabes en la España del siglo XII. La mayoría de los copistas necesitaban colaboradores para concluir el proceso, sin embargo, Johannes Hispalensis (Juan de Sevilla) conocía tanto la lengua árabe como el latín, por lo que podía trabajar solo. La duplicación de textos latinos se popularizó y divulgó rápidamente. Durante los siglos siguientes, los copistas medievales hicieron múltiples copias, y durante el proceso de reproducción cometieron muchos errores que (...) contribuyeron a la confusión entre la versión correcta del nombre del traductor y su identidad. Por consiguiente, Hispalensis apareció en copias posteriores de su trabajo con varios títulos añadidos, tales como ¿maestro¿ u ¿obispo¿, o unido a un colaborador. Los historiadores modernos aumentaron las complejidades creando un solo personaje de dos traductores distintos. En ocasiones, la propiedad de algunos de los manuscritos estaba basada únicamente en los nombres que aparecían en sus folios. Se hace aquí una tentativa de aclarar cuales son las traducciones de Johannes Hispalensis, trabajando solo, y aquéllas en que colaboró con otros. (shrink)

From Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Decameron and Canterbury Tales to Monty Python’s televisual riffs on Arthurian legend in the 1970s and role-playing games like Pendragon or Hidden Kingdom, a fascination...

The Arabic philosophical fable _Hayy Ibn Yaqzan _is a classic of medieval Islamic philosophy. Ibn Tufayl, the Andalusian philosopher, tells of a child raised by a doe on an equatorial island who grows up to discover the truth about the world and his own place in it, unaided—but also unimpeded—by society, language, or tradition. Hayy’s discoveries about God, nature, and man challenge the values of the culture in which the tale was written as well as those of every contemporary (...) society. Goodman’s commentary places _Hayy Ibn Yaqzan _in its historical and philosophical context. The volume features a new preface and index, and an updated bibliography. “One of the most remarkable books of the Middle Ages.”—_Times Literary Supplement_ “An enchanting and puzzling story.... The book transcends all historical and cultural environments to settle upon the questions of human life that perpetually intrigue men.”—_Middle East__ Journal_ “Goodman has done a service to the modern English reader by providing a readable translation of a philosophically significant allegory.”—_Philosophy East and West_ “Add[s] bright new pieces to an Islamic mosaic whose general shape is already known.”—_American Historical Review_. (shrink)

Early commentators and traditionists embed and amplify Q 2:102—an enigmatic allusion to angelic complicity in the transmission of esoteric knowledge to humankind—within a rich layer of interpretive lore frequently bearing the rubric “Tale of Hārūt and Mārūt.” A close study of this verse alongside its external narrative embellishments uncovers a wealth of structural and contextual motifs that suggestively link the “Tale” with biblical and parascriptural myths about “fallen angels” and their perceived role in the corruption of antediluvian humanity. The present (...) article catalogs a representative number of these motifs, speculates about their mode of transmission, and offers some guidelines for analyzing the different versions of the “Tale” that surface centuries later in medieval Jewish interpretive and mystical literature. Particular attention is devoted to unpacking the identity of the woman who is responsible for the seduction of the angels. (shrink)

The classical form of the romance (courtly romance or chivalrous romance, the epic, romance tale) was created in the 11th-13th centuries in different countries by an entire series of great poets and authors, among whom Thomas, Chrétien de Troyes, Wolfram von Eschenbach, Gottfried of Strasbourg, Nezâmi, Rustaveli and Murasaki Shikibu had considerable influence on the development of their respective families of literature.

En las sociedades islámicas medievales, las convenciones culturales y las normas sociales tenían un papel importante en la educación, pero los pensadores musulmanes también prestaron atención a las diferencias individuales entre los estudiantes y a la necesidad de ajustar tanto el contenido de la enseñanza como los métodos educativos al contexto familiar de esos estudiantes, así como a sus habilidades personales, sus inclinaciones y sus aspiraciones. Esto pudo deberse no sólo a la herencia de los "árabes preislámicos y del Islam (...) temprano" como sugirió S. D. Goitein, sino también a la influencia cultural extranjera (por ejemplo, griega), especialmente en el ámbito del pensamiento educativo. En principio, podría parecer que el kuttab ofrecería menos atención individualizada a los que allí estudiaban que otras instituciones educativas. Sin embargo, los ulemas, en general, tenían en mente al estudiante individual cuando discutían asuntos de educación elemental, tales como el currículum, la edad de admisión del niño, la selección de métodos educativos apropiados, los juegos de los niños, la compañía de otros niños, la selección de una profesión para el niño y la participación del padre en la educación formal. (shrink)

Two pillars of medieval English literature, Chaucer and Malory, stand accused by posterity as criminals, yet scholars remain perplexed about the nature of their crimes over five centuries later. Some convict them of the heinous offense of sexually assaulting a woman against her will, while others believe them guilty of no more than seduction or consensual sex. The allegation against Malory has even been reframed to portray him as a knight in shining armor rescuing a damsel in distress; thus (...) instead of seizing a woman in order to rape her, this author of Arthurian legends “stole” Joan Smith away from her abusive husband when Joan departed with Malory consensually. Keen to illuminate the personal lives of the authors whose Canterbury Tales, Morte Darthur, and other works opened up the world of the Middle Ages for posterity, contemporary researchers have seized upon medieval English legal sources to clarify these authors' own stories. The crime in which Chaucer and Malory have been implicated, of seizing a woman, confounds those historians and literary scholars seeking to explore these authors' late-medieval milieu because the word most frequently employed to record the misdeed is one of the most ambiguous legal terms in medieval England, and indeed Europe. When an individual seized a woman or stood accused of her seizure , the term's multivalent connotations mean that the offense might conform to either or both of our modern legal categories of rape and abduction. (shrink)

Ranging chronologically from the twelfth to the fifteenth century and thematically from Latin to vernacular literary modes, this book challenges standard assumptions about the musical cultures and philosophies of the European Middle Ages. Engaging a wide range of premodern texts and contexts, from the musicality of sodomy in twelfth-century polyphony to Chaucer's representation of pedagogical violence in the Prioress's Tale, from early Christian writings on the music of the body to the plainchant and poetry of Hildegard of Bingen, the author (...) argues that medieval music was quintessentially a practice of the flesh. The book reveals a medieval world in which erotic desire, sexual practice, torture, flagellation, and even death itself resonated with musical significance and meaning. In its insistence on music as an integral part of the material cultures of the Middle Ages, the book presents a revisionist account of an important aspect of premodern European civilization. (shrink)

Through a detailed analysis of ghost tales in the Ashkenazi pietistic work Sefer hasidim, Susan Weissman documents a major transformation in Jewish attitudes and practices regarding the dead and the afterlife that took place between the rabbinic period and medieval times. She reveals that a huge influx of Germano-Christian beliefs, customs, and fears relating to the dead and the afterlife seeped into medieval Ashkenazi society among both elite and popular groups. In matters of sin, penance, and posthumous punishment, (...) the infiltration of Christian notions was so strong as to effect a radical departure in Pietist thinking from rabbinic thought and to spur outright contradiction of talmudic principles regarding the realm of the hereafter. Although it is primarily a study of the culture of a medieval Jewish enclave, this book demonstrates how seminal beliefs of medieval Christendom and monastic ideals could take root in a society with contrary religious values-even in the realm of doctrinal belief. (shrink)

One of the arguments that has been directed against the Buddhist anātman (“non-self”) theory, by Dan Zahavi among others, is that the doctrine cannot account for why we never mistake our own bodies for the bodies of others. This is not, however, a new objection; it can be found, for example, in a list of objections to the anātman doctrine in the Dazhidulun (“Treatise on the Great Perfection of Wisdom”), a medieval compendium attributed to Nāgārjuna and compiled and translated (...) (and perhaps partially authored) by Kumārajīva in the early fifth century. The text offers several responses to this objection, the most interesting of which is the claim that there is indeed an instance of a person experiencing himself as another. We then hear the tale of a young man who went through a “body transplant”—his body is replaced, piece by piece, with that of a corpse. In my chapter, I analyze this amusing but nonetheless illuminating narrative, showing how the story is a classic example of a medieval Buddhist “thought experiment” (Gedankenspiel), which was freely altered by Buddhist authors as it was deployed in different doctrinal/philosophical contexts. I conclude with some reflections on how our approach to such didactic tales affects our understanding and appreciation of Buddhist philosophy writ large. (shrink)

A recurring complaint in the highly polemical chronicles of the medieval Veneto is that elite families misused marital alliances as instruments of political violence. This concern appears, in particular, in the Cronica in factis et circa facta Marchie Trivixane , by Rolandino da Padova , the most rhetorically coherent and thorough medieval history of the region. Rolandino's interest in abuses of the betrothal system is evident in his account of the serial marriages of Cunizza da Romano. Over fifty (...) years before Cunizza's posthumous celebration in Dante's Divine Comedy, Rolandino's discussion of her amours forms part of a long denunciation of her brother, Ezzelino III da Romano . Cunizza's brother was an imperial vicar who, at the height of his power, controlled the entire mainland of the Veneto, called the Marca Trevigiana in the Middle Ages. The powerful Ezzelino is implied in the chronicle to have manipulated Cunizza's marital alliances, and the suggestion is that the resulting strategic connections enabled him to foment war and injustice. This tale is but one of many in which the chroniclers of the region condemn elite marital practices deemed transgressive in terms of political oppression. The main purpose of this article is to chart the chroniclers' accusations that link misconduct in marriage agreements to violence in factional politics and abuse of power. I contend that the chronicles of the medieval Veneto represent tyranny in terms of the manipulation of marital alliances. (shrink)

ABSTRACT As a reverse effect of constraining interpretation and limiting itself to the moral ordering of commerce defended by Aquinas, the Summa Theologica both motivated the enrichment of the Christian imaginary in narratives like Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy and Geoffrey Chaucer’s work, The Canterbury Tales. In the case of the Divine Comedy, it expanded the reflection on the categories of sinners related to money, and as regards The Canterbury Tales, it provided support for the construction of anti-models in some of (...) the framed narrative types of misers, simoniacs, and fraudsters. This article aims to present Aquinas’ instructions regarding the uses of money, juxtaposing, at times, with literary texts. For this purpose, biblical passages, commentators of the Catholic tradition Bible, and texts from economists are brought in as the Summa Theologica is analyzed. Theoretical thinkers of Christian thought, such as Augustine and Boethius, and economic thought, such as Molina and Robbins, have been used. (shrink)

This chapter highlights a well-known problem for defenders of transubstantiation: namely, the apparent impossibility of supposing that accidents can be separated from their substance. It begins by arguing that Aquinas’s account of accidents, in which the truth-making function of accidents relative to their substances is understood in terms of the existence of such accidents, is highly susceptible to this kind of objection. The next section considers Giles of Rome’s attempts to overcome this worry, most specifically by distinguishing the existence of (...) an accident from its truth-making function, both of which are described. Giles maintains that the existence of an accident is to be identified with the existence of its substance. According to Scotus, this means that Giles is scarcely better off than Aquinas in defending himself against the worry about separated accidents, since a separated accident needs its own existence and, Scotus avers, there is no way for an accident to gain existence when separated. Scotus agrees with Giles that the truth-making function of accidents is to be distinguished from their existence, and holds that accidents, even when united to their substances, have their own proper existence. Overall, the tale is one of the increasing hypostatization of accidents in the light of pressures from Eucharistic doctrine. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The French Tradition and the Literature of Medieval EnglandEdward E. FosterThe French Tradition and the Literature of Medieval England, by William Calin; xvi & 587pp. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1994, $75.00 cloth, $29.95 paper.Probably not many people will read all of this book, because it is very long. That is too bad, because it is also very good and its length is necessary for its (...) double purpose: to reconceptualize the connections between French and English literature in the Middle Ages and to provide sensitive interpretations both of familiar and of ignored Medieval narratives. The doubleness is neatly reciprocal: the readings grow into the revisionist definition of influence, and the notion of influence informs the individual readings.The innovative and persuasive argument that orders the whole book is that the impact of the French tradition has been too narrowly defined. Rather than simply retracing the influence of the classics of French fin amour, like Chrétien, on the corpus of Middle English literature, Calin sinuously argues the influence of Anglo-Norman and thirteenth and fourteenth century Central French works on the literature of the high English Middle Ages. From Anglo-Norman, Calin draws, predictably, on the lais of Marie de France. Less predictably, he draws on Beroul and Thomas of England and on romances like Ipomedon, Amadas et Ydione, and Gui de Warewic. Least predictably, he draws on the tradition of saints’ lives as formative of later Medieval moral narrative. From Central French, he draws, predictably, on the Roman de la Rose. Less predictably, but very convincingly, he draws on material frequently slighted even by French critics: Guillaume de Digulleville, the Prose Lancelot, Machaut, Froissart, and Chartier. But even more than influence, in the traditional sense, Calin persuasively demonstrates an enlivening intertextuality. He rescues Anglo-Norman classics from their stodgy reputation and late Central French texts from inattention and makes both relevant to the development of the English narrative tradition in court poetry and in popular romance.The power of Calin’s overarching argument depends heavily on the critiques of individual works. Without forgetting Chrétien and the earlier French tradition, he traces in Marie, Beroul, and Thomas, the formation and complication of fin amour which were present and available to English writers. He describes the narrative force of Anglo-Norman saints’ lives on the fictional techniques of English romance. His acute treatment of interlace in the Prose Lancelot reveals the treasure trove that English romancers could draw on, for technique as well as themes. In addition, he shows both how de Digulleville served up the “dream vision” and Machaut and Froissart served up the limited, even bumbling, narrator for fourteenth-century England.It could be argued that Calin’s method of doing very modern or postmodern analyses of early French poetry and prose is misleading. And it is true that some of the readings of French texts seem eccentric. For example, the relentless imposition of Freud on Marie is perplexing even when plausible. One wonders [End Page 400] whether this is the best way to approach the Lais. And Calin moves on to feminist, and old and new historicist readings of other texts. Each is well done, but it is sometimes hard to tell which way the winds of theory are blowing and why. While it must be granted that the interpretations of Middle English romances, like Ywain and Gawain, Amis and Amiloun, and William of Palerne, are not profoundly different from what other scholars have come to, there is no denying that embedding them in their French contexts gives them a richness they ordinarily lack. Even more laudable is the way in which influence is elaborated not just as a matter of themes but as a transformation of techniques and even sensibility.My greatest reservation is the treatment of Chaucer, especially “The Franklin’s Tale.” Calin does recognize Chaucer’s debts to the classics (though mostly through the Ovid Moralisé) and to the Italians. Yet Chaucer is the one author for whom the weight of French intertextuality seems less a determinant than a stimulant. In “The Franklin’s Tale,” the French burden leads to a reading that too easily dismisses both ironic... (shrink)