The Poet's Tale: Chaucer And The Year That Made The Canterbury Tales

Paul Strohm

Profile Books, £15.99

Reviewed by Theresa Munoz

In a Canadian high school years ago, I giggled through the Wife of Bath's shameless monologue: "For certeyn, olde dotard, by youre leve, ye shul have queynte right ynough at eve." Such provocative medieval English was memorable enough to quote in exams. But unlike the public affairs of Sir Thomas Wyatt or Shakespeare, I hardly knew anything about Geoffrey Chaucer who, despite the bawdy language, I wrongly imagined was some kind of religious bard.

As it turns out, the world knows very little about him. This is what academic Paul Strohm sets out to correct in his obsessive tribute. In his lifetime, Chaucer was only known as a public courtier. In fact, out of the 493 documents which feature Chaucer in Life-Records, none hints that he was a writer (though the poet enjoyed a small following by then). Strohm makes the simplistic argument often applied to a shady figure: there were contrasting sides to Chaucer, like a medieval Jekyll and Hyde. He was a courtier and loyal esquire to the king as well as an observant poet who penned the Tales, Strohm says, out of sense of alienation after a terrible year.

Strohm also presents the unfortunate events that marked Chaucer's mid-life crisis. Echoing some other literary biographers, he insists on a direct correlation between the disastrous events of Chaucer's life and the creation of his greatest work. This is a smart tactic. Instead of starting a potentially tedious narration at the beginning of Chaucer's life, Strohm condenses his research into one action-packed year. ''The year 1386 was a watershed, after which nothing in Chaucer's life would be the same," he declares. "The political developments of October through December 1386 would deprive him of his dwelling, his living, and most relevantly for his poetry, access to the intimate audience on which that poetry had always depended."

It's true that Chaucer, who wrote often about 'reversals of fortune', lost everything in one go. Prior to 1386, he lived in a fashionable apartment over London's Aldgate, where he witnessed the Peasant Revolt of 1381. He had a socialite wife named Philippa Roet whose sister, Kathryn Swynford, was mistress and eventual third wife of John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster. This connection allowed Chaucer to enjoy a privileged position as a high-level civil servant and wool controller on London's booming Wool Wharf. However, due to King Richard falling out with the Duke of Gloucester, Chaucer was publicly ousted from the position. And his personal life was no better. He was accused of sexual assault by the strangely named Cecily Champagne and became separated from Philippa, who would die a year later. Chaucer lived his remaining days in Kent much like his Pilgrims, a wanderer with no fixed job or income.

A keen interest in medieval history is an advantage if you are to enjoy this book. The first half is a historical walk through the reign of King Richard II. Strohm's voice is energetic, exact and waits for no one; he happily rattles off dates and names. His dramatic recreation of Chaucer's home over the busy Aldgate includes the stench of sewage, visions of dead dogs and the sound of market carts. He also provides an impressively detailed mock-up of Chaucer's rooms, even mentioning the thickness of the walls (eight or nine feet) in his digs.

Despite his obvious admiration for the poet, Strohm can't hide the fact that Chaucer was probably a scheming brown-noser who married for money. The son of a vintner in London's wine industry, Chaucer 'married up' to acquire his wife's royal connections. "Love may have been more pragmatic in their day," Strohm writes apologetically. But he can see no wrong in Chaucer the man who, he insists, would have made an excellent party guest. Chaucer's witty work ensured he was "convivial, playful and given to easy social exchange". It sounds a little like wishful thinking.

Starting from the chapter The Other Chaucer, Strohm switches hats from historian to literary critic. He argues that Chaucer's fall from grace also meant a loss of audience, which was "a wrenching, even disastrous experience". This is why he invented his misfit band of '"ogues, pitchmen, scammers, social snobs, humble toilers". No one, not even Chaucer, likes to think of themselves as alone.

Disappointingly, Strohm does not refer to The Canterbury Tales very often. If you want to know who inspired the Wife of Bath or the Pardoner, or with which misfit Pilgrim he most identified, you won't find it here. You will, however, learn a few fun facts, such as that the word 'gossip' derives from the medieval term "good friend" or "gossib". This would make anyone a good party guest.