(this is a shameless re-post - with a few changes - from my Chaucer class' blog...apologies to those of you who may be seeing it for the second time!)
One of the privileges of my job is that I get to spend so much time revisiting the texts and issues that I care about.
I think I speak for most of my colleagues when I say that every time I teach a text, even if I have taught it multiple times before, I always go back and reread it. And I always discover something new!
I have now taught "The Miller's Tale" twice in as many weeks. I'll be honest, I was surprised by how many of you guys struggled to find the humor in this story because you were put off by its offensive content. In the past, most of my students have jumped at the chance to dig into this one, so I was a bit thrown!
I want to be clear that what I am IN NO WAY questioning the validity of anyone's reading experience. Chaucer, after all, anticipated this reaction. He expected folks to be perturbed by his language and his subject matter, and with good reason.
But what I have discovered in my most recent readings of this tale is more about today's world than Chaucer's. I am reminded of the ways that our society encourages self-censorship (despite simultaneously encouraging self-promotion) and discourages healthy discomfort - the kind of discomfort that makes us question who we are and why we live the way that we do.
Words have power - some more obviously so than others. Certain words elicit a strong reaction, and many of them appear in this tale (
Queynte. Pisse. Toute.) But we shouldn't shy away from that power and refuse to use those words (well, obviously there are times and places ... and of course I would never advocate using hurtful language about someone else). Rather, we should consider
why those words have that power. Why do they make us uncomfortable? And we must remember that those words don't have power over us, but are instead within our own power to catalog our world.
The Miller, either because his drunkenness has lowered his inhibitions or because it's just the kind of "cherl" he is, certainly is unafraid of using those words. Are we going to let ourselves be bested by him? I say no. Because his words are a sign of his willingness to tell it like it is: the world isn't a courtly romance. Emelye in the Knight's tale isn't necessarily thrilled with the giant tournament to determine her fate. People may commend a "noble tale," but they also can (and should!) enjoy a hearty laugh at a fart joke - especially one as well-wrought and intricately told as this one.
