Troilus and
Criseyde: The Hidden Influence of Chaucer¡¯s Reading
An Sonjae
When
Chaucer is viewed in a wider literary context, it is often in terms of the
literary works which he is known to have read, translated and adapted. Failing
direct adaptation, analogues to Chaucer¡¯s tales are cited. Thus everyone knows
that Troilus and Criseyde is an adaptation of a poem by Boccaccio,
likewise the Knight¡¯s Tale, and that the Clerk¡¯s Tale is adapted
from a prose tale by Petrarch (itself adapted from a story in Boccaccio¡¯s Decameron),
or that the Wife of Bath¡¯s Prologue quotes from a variety of texts
including St. Jerome and the Roman de la Rose, while her Tale is
analogous to a story found in Gower and elsewhere. Students learn from their
teachers and textbooks that Chaucer translated Boethius¡¯s Consolatio
Philosophiae, and paraphrased passages from it as he explored its themes in
a number of his works, including especially Troilus and Criseyde and The
Knight¡¯s Tale.
While
such explicit narrative sources are familiar, indirect and hidden influences
are less easily recognized amd less often explored. This is particularly true
of Chaucer¡¯s echoes of Dante, that are particularly evident at certain points
in his rewriting of Boccaccio¡¯s Filostrato as Troilus and Criseyde.
Major recent studies of Chaucer¡¯s debt to Dante are those by J. A. W. Bennett, ¡°Chaucer,
Dante and Boccaccio¡± and Piero Boitani, ¡°What Dante meant to Chaucer¡± in
Boitani¡¯s 1983 collection of studies on Chaucer and the Italian Trecento,
and pages 125 – 137 of Barry Windeatt¡¯s 1992 Troilus and Criseyde in the
Oxford Guides to Chaucer. In 1998, Winthrop Wetherbee¡¯s essay ¡°Dante and
the Poetics of Troilus and Crisede¡± was included in Critical Essays on
Geoffrey Chaucer edited by Thomas C. Stillinger. Windeatt (1992 126-7)
provides a list of over 30 points in Troilus and Criseyde where Chaucer
is directly translating from Dante¡¯s Commedia. All the critics agree
that Chaucer owes Dante much more than those details.
In
his article on Chaucer for the Dante Encyclopedia (160-2), Winthrop
Wetherbee suggests that in Troilus and Criseyde, ¡°a historically
localized story of earthly love is played out against the background of the
spiritual journey of the Commedia. The relationship is of course largely
parodic: though the idealistic lover Troilus has much of the buono ardor
of Dante¡¯s pilgrim, Criseyde is an all-too-worldly Beatrice – emmeshed in
desire, politics, and history -- and Pandarus, the guide who leads Troilus to
the ¡®hevene blisse¡¯ of sexual union, is a cynical and self-interested Virgil.¡±
It would be impossible to establish how conscious Chaucer was of these
identifications, but certainly the patterns of reference to Dante are
sufficiently clear to show that Chaucer was deeply aware of the Commedia
as he was writing his version of Boccaccio¡¯s story.
The
signs of Chaucer¡¯s debt to Dante are far more subtle and difficult to measure
than those of his similar dialogue with Boethius, in part because the ¡°Boethian¡±
language of Fortune, freedom and necessity is simpler to spot. Yet even when he
mentions Fortune, Chaucer should not be too quickly assumed to be referring
uniquely to Boethius. Before him, Dante had undertaken his own thoughtful
re-reading of Boethius in the light of Augustine and Aquinas (Dante Encyclopedia
405: ¡°Fortune¡±). Editors have already noted, as J.A.W. Bennett points out
(Boitani 1983 99), an echo of Dante in Troilus and Criseyde that owes
nothing to Boccaccio (Book 5.1541-7), in a passage which is concerned with
defining the role of Fortune :
ffortune
-- which that permutacioun
Of thynges hath, as it is hire comitted
Thorough
purueyaunce and disposicioun
Of
heighe Ioue, as regnes shal be flitted
ffro
folk in folk or when they shal be smytted –
Gan
pulle away the fetheres brighte of Troie
ffro
day to day til they ben bare of ioie.
This
passage clearly contains echoes from a major passage in Dante¡¯s Inferno
(7.61-96), where Virgil instructs Dante on the relationship between Fortune and
material fortunes (i.e. worldly wealth):
Who made the
heavens and who gave them guides
was He whose
wisdom transcends everything;
75 that every part may shine unto the
other,
He had the light
apportioned equally;
similarly, for
wordly splendors, He
78 ordained a general minister and guide
to shift, from time to time, those empty goods
from nation unto
nation, clan to clan,
81 in ways that human reason can't
prevent;
just so, one
people rules, one languishes,
obeying the
decision she has given,
84 which, like a serpent in the grass, is
hidden. (Trans. Allen Mandelbaum)
The most important lines in Italian, which Chaucer drew on and echoes directly, are:
Similemente a li
splendor mondani
78 ordinò general ministra e duce
che
permutasse a tempo li ben vani
di gente in gente e d'uno in altro sangue,
81 oltre la difension d'i senni umani
( . . . )
Vostro saver non
ha contasto a lei:
questa provede,
giudica, e persegue
87 suo regno come il loro li altri dèi
Le sue
permutazion non hanno triegue:
necessità la fa
esser veloce;
90 sì spesso vien chi vicenda consegue.
It
may or may not be a coincidence that Chaucer, having stressed like Dante (and
Virgil in the Aeneid) that Fortune is not ¡°blind chance¡± but a source of
blessing and subject to the will of ¡°high Jove,¡± says that the fall of Troy was
the work of Fortune. For that is what Dante says explicitly in Inferno
30:
E quando la
fortuna volse in basso
l'altezza de'
Troian che tutto ardiva,
15 sì che 'nsieme col regno il re fu casso
The
presence of Dante in this passage of Chaucer¡¯s may be still more complex. As
Bennett remarks, Dante makes a clear distinction between ¡°Giove,¡± the pagan god
and planet Jupiter, and ¡°sommo Giove,¡± the Christian God. In Purgatorio
6.118 Dante refers to ¡°sommo Giove che fosti in terra per noi crucifisso¡± (high
Jove who were crucified here on earth for us). Likewise, there is no other
passage in Troilus and Criseyde in which the name of Jove is qualified
with ¡°high¡± and none other where the name has a Christian reference. Chaucer,
with his strong interest in Boethius, must have been particularly struck by
Virgil¡¯s teaching about Fortune in Inferno 7, for he also echoes it in
adapting the Knight¡¯s Tale (1663-6):
The destinee,
ministre general,
That executeth in
the world over al
The purveiaunce
that God hath seyn biforn,
So strong it is .
. .
Chaucer¡¯s hidden poetic debt is not only to Dante. Similarly complex moments of hidden intertextuality can be found involving other writers. In the first book of Troilus and Criseyde, the Cantus Troili, as the manuscripts entitle it, is introduced with most particular emphasis in the preceeding stanza:
And
of his song nought only the sentence,
As writ
myn autour called Lollius,
395 But pleynly, save our
tonges difference,
Seyde in
his song, lo! every word right thus
As I shal
seyn; and who-so list it here,
Lo! next
this vers, he may it finden here.
Just
100 lines previously, Troilus had been struck by the sight of Criseyde in the
temple. He is still struggling to understand what the bewildering,
contradictory feelings are, that have overwhelmed him. Here the ¡°faithful
translator¡± persona, serving as the
secondary narrator of a story that he insists in no way belongs to him,
stresses that the text following is a particularly precise rendering of
the very words of Troilus, piercing at this point with particular intensity and
directness, unmediated despite the double transfer (assumed from Greek to the
Latin of Lollius) and from Lollius to this English poem. Hear, we are urged,
the inmost mind of Troilus struggling to comprehend the full nature of the
change that has occurred, a change which (we already have begun to realize)
will affect the whole of the rest of his life, for good and bad, for better and
for worse.
With
the insight offered by the quasi-omnipotent narrator, the reader should here
ponder with Troilus the sublime paradox of love¡¯s contradictions. Nothing else
matters in the narratorial logic, the exploration of the paradoxical things
love does to its victims is here given one of its strongest expressions:
400 `If no love is, O god, what
fele I so?
And if
love is, what thing and whiche is he!
If love
be good, from whennes comth my wo?
If it be
wikke, a wonder thinketh me,
Whenne
every torment and adversitee
405 That cometh of him, may to
me savory thinke;
For ay
thurst I, the more that I it drinke.
Of
course, Chaucer is being particularly deceptive in stressing the authenticity
of these stanzas; far from these being Troilus¡¯ words faithfully translated and
transmitted, Chaucer is introducing completely new material here, his own
version of Petrarch¡¯s sonnet Rime sparse
132, at a point where Boccaccio¡¯s text (Book 1, 37) has nothing but a bare indication
that Troilus sang.
Presumably
Chaucer read as befits the way he wrote; we shall never know if he in fact had
a complete text of the Canzoniere but
what seems certain is that he read
feelingly whatever he read, he entered into what the words were saying, he
experienced them profoundly. That is to say that when Chaucer silently inserts
this translation of a poem from Petrarch¡¯s Canzoniere
into the Troilus, he is interweaving
literary strands, ¡°in-forming¡± his poem (and the process of very free adaptation
he undertook authorized him to consider it as his own work, not a ¡°mere¡±
translation) with a coded linkage to the entire, sublime, contradictory,
literary love-experience recorded in the Canzoniere;
not only the often tormented poems written while Laura was alive, but the
rather differently complex poems composed after her death. With beyond that
Dante and ultimately the Provencal Troubadors, of whose work Chaucer was surely
unaware, though Dante and Boccaccio had studied them deeply.
Chaucer
probably did not write with any sense of owing his readers detailed
explanations of what he was doing at such moments. That is why this linking
passes unhinted at, unstressed. He himself knows what he has done; that is
enough. He also surely realizes that probably no one else in England at the
time he is writing has read (or even heard of) Petrarch¡¯s poems; if he
indicates in some way what he has done, he will have to explain everything. But
saying ¡°these lines are a translation of a poem by Petrarch¡± does not explain anything at all. Real
understanding will only be possible if the reader has read the Canzoniere in something like the way
Chaucer has read it, as a most notable ¡°Anatomy of Love¡¯s joys and torments.¡± ¡°Knowing¡±
as an isolated ¡°interesting¡± anecdote that these lines are translated from a
book by Petrarch will not at all allow anyone to experience a deeper dimension
underlying Chaucer¡¯s work.
Why
a poem from the Canzoniere came to be
used by Chaucer as a reference for Troilus
and Criseyde was perhaps because it was the poetic record of a parallel set
of experiences, the heart of the matter being love interrupted by the fact of
loss. Laura was taken from Petrarch, he abruptly found himself alone. Not that
she then went on to ¡°betray¡± him like Criseyde, of course; Petrarch could
hardly be jealous of God. Now Petrarch¡¯s experience so closely parallels Dante¡¯s
that many have even doubted whether it was ever as independently real as Dante¡¯s.
Boccaccio was writing before 1340; Laura died in 1348. The Canzoniere, also
known as Rime Sparse, and that Petrarch himself titled Rerum
vulgarium fragmenta, was therefore not available to Boccaccio although
scholars seem to have traced echoes of some individual earlier poems in the Filostrato.
It
is important to try to offer some comments on why Chaucer might have included
this poem by Petrarch in the Troilus. Taken on its own, Chaucer may have
felt, Troilus and Criseyde was too
light a work. Troilus could still be seen as a fool for expecting a woman to be
faithful in love, in which case he will be thought to have deserved what he
gets. Chaucer surely knew the Latin prose tale by Guido delle Colonne, Historia
Destructionis Troiae, from which Boccaccio took the basic elements of his
story. There, Troilus is precisely that, a 15-year-old adolescent whose ¡°love¡±
for Briseis has no depth and no great significance. Boccaccio took the sighing
and the love-torment which in Guido¡¯s tale characterize Diomedes¡¯s feelings for
Briseis, and gave them to Troilo when he was creating the Filostrato.
The
problem is one of stress. Which is the story¡¯s central emotional focus, Troilus¡¯s
joys and pains as a lover, or Troilus winning then abandoned by Criseyde? If
the former, this can be read as a tale of the joys and sufferings love causes a
man. If the latter, the story can be seen as an exemplum showing how
fickle and unreliable women are. That antifeminist reading is said to have got
Chaucer into trouble; he claimed to have been ¡°sentenced¡± to write the Legend
of Good Women as a penance for having belittled women. The way both poets
set out to focus the tale clearly on Troilus¡¯s sufferings is one of the
striking parallels between them.
Boccaccio
adopted a strategy that Chaucer did not preserve, by presenting the Filostrato
as a work written essentially as an attempt to overcome his own lady¡¯s
indifference. His personal love-sufferings caused by a woman are the basic
raison-d¡¯etre for the poem, he claims. The Greek title Filostrato
that Boccaccio gave the work was understood by him as meaning 'a man vanquished
and laid prostrate by love' This refers less to Troilo than it refers to the
poet, as the Proem makes clear. It dedicates the poem to 'Filomena'
(¡°the loved one¡± of the poet) and the narrator tells the story of Troilo who
was 'vanquished by love both by fervently loving Criseida and then again by her
departure' in order to persuade Filomena to come back to him.
The
narrator informs his lady and his readers in the Proem: 'as many times
as you find Troilo weeping and grieving for the departure of Criseida, that
many times you may clearly recognize and know my own cries, tears, sighs, and
distresses; and as many times as you find the beauty, the good manners, or any
other thing praiseworthy in a lady written of Criseida, that often you can
understand them to be spoken of you (Filomena).' His purpose is writing this
work (Teseida and Filocolo also contain the same subtext) was:
'in the person of someone emotionally overcome as I was and am, to relate my
sufferings in song.' The work becomes an exemplum of the male's
unhappiness caused by hopeless love by being cast as an argument designed to
draw a woman back to the poet.
Both Boccaccio and Chaucer direct
attention to and deepen the theme of male love-pain by weaving into the body of
the work indirect references to Dante¡¯s experience of love and loss. After
Criseyde has gone away to the Greek camp, Troilus writes a letter to her.
Chaucer¡¯s poem only follows the Italian in having a letter, the contents are
mostly very different. One stanza in the Filostrato (Book 7, stanza 60)
begins:
Gli
occhi dolente, dopo il tuo partire,
di
lagrimar non ristetter giammai;
Chaucer (Book 5)
has retained the mention of weeping eyes while changing the rest – to intensify
Troilus¡¯s sense of despair, perhaps:
"Myn eyen two, in veyn
with whiche I se,
Of sorwful teris salt arn waxen welles;
1375
.
Boccaccio, like Chaucer with the Cantus
Troili, gives no indication that here he is (as Boitani points out) echoing
the opening words of a lyric by Dante from the Vita Nuova (chap.31) :
hanno
di lagrimar sofferta pena,
se
che per vinti son remasi omai.
The
eyes grieving out of pity for the heart,
while
weeping, have endured great suffering,
so
that they are defeated, tearless eyes.
The
link is minimal, true, a bare three words, and could conceivably even have been
unconscious, since Boccaccio is known to have personally copied out the Vita
Nuova, that was not a widely distributed text (Boitani 1983 21). In any
case, this possible echo of Dante can only be emotionally significant if a
reader has read, like Boccaccio, with proper feeling, the Vita Nuova.
The
three words are the start of the very first poem written by Dante after hearing
that Beatrice had died. Now that, in the emotional economy of the Vita Nuova, is no slight poem; it marks
what might be considered the second greatest turning point in Dante¡¯s whole
life. Likewise, this letter is Troilus¡¯s first attempt at communication across
the distance separating him from Criseyde. When Boccaccio was writing the Filostrato,
Petrarch was only just beginning to write the poems destined to become the Canzoniere,
Laura was still alive. The main source where Boccaccio could find an exalted,
poetic expression of the pain experienced by a lover separated from his love
was obviously Dante¡¯s Vita Nuova, and the wider tradition of love
poetry, Italian and Provencal.
There
are multiple, hidden echoes by which Boccaccio¡¯s poem is firmly anchored to the
centuries-old European literary concern with the joys and pains, and the
wonder, of love. Dante was in many ways a too present source of influence.
Critics have been shocked by borrowings from Dante in Boccaccio where the
result is indecorous (Boitani 1983 94). A somewhat similar feeling arises
regarding the chatty eagle in Chaucer¡¯s House of Fame, which also has
rather more sublime Dantean roots.
Returning
now to Chaucer¡¯s Troilus and Criseyde, we still have to examine the
words that close the poem:
Thou
oon, and two, and three, eterne on-lyve,
That
regnest ay in three and two and oon,
1865 Uncircumscript, and al mayst
circumscryve,
Us from
visible and invisible foon
Defende;
and to thy mercy, everichoon,
So make
us, Iesus, for thy grace digne,
For love
of mayde and moder thyn benigne! Amen.
The
whole stanza owes nothing to Boccaccio. The first three lines are a close
translation of words from Dante¡¯s Commedia (Paradiso 14.28-30)
while Boitani (1983 127) links the final line with the opening line of Paradiso
30. The lines celebrating the Trinity are taken from Canto 14 of Paradiso.
This is set in the Sphere of the Sun, which Dante entered in Canto 10, and the
singers are the spirits in the first two circles of the wise. Eighth among the
wise doctors forming the First Circle introduced by Beatrice in Canto 10 is ¡°the
holy soul who makes plain the world¡¯s deceitfulness to one that hears him
rightly; the body from which he was driven lies below in Cieldauro, and he came
from martyrdom and exile to this peace.¡± It would be interesting to know if
Chaucer realized that this meant that one of the voices joining in this hymn is
none other than that of his favorite philosopher, Boethius.
It
is here that we should also, I believe, locate our reflection on the hidden
structural features which link Troilus
and Criseyde to the Divine Comedy
that Dr. Kaylor has pointed out. Numerological patterns requiring a close
inspection of line-count in manuscripts that know nothing of line-numbering is
an even more sophisticated game of hide-and-seek than the insertion of
translations from unfamiliar Italian poets. It reminds us perhaps of
Shakespeare making Romeo and Juliet kiss at the end of a sonnet; he was not
interested in footnotes, either, but full of the themes of the Canzoniere : love, separation, death,
truth.
This
is not necessarily to say that we should read the entire Divine Comedy because of five lines at the end of Troilus, the whole Vita Nuova because of a few words just before, and the whole Romance of the Rose too, to be able to
deal with some lines in the Canterbury
Tales. I would rather say that someone who has done such reading, not as a
background to Chaucer but for the works¡¯ sake, will read Chaucer differently.
This
becomes even more obvious, I believe, when we turn to Boethius. We are all so
aware of ¡°Boethian¡± elements and ¡°influences¡± as well of longer direct
quotations in different parts of Chaucer, especially in Troilus and the Knight¡¯s Tale,
that it comes as a shock to realize how little Boethius means to most people
today. The Consolation does not figure high on many reading-lists, even
medievalists¡¯. Perhaps that will change with the increasing anxiety and
insecurity of these weeks past.
The
only way to read Boethius properly, I suspect, is to be deeply concerned by the
questions he raises and deals with. Existential Angst has become so much an indulged pleasure, and systematic doubt
such a habit of mind that we no longer expect explanations or bother to ask the
question ¡°Why¡± when faced with injustice and the suffering of the innocent. Not
to see any problem with pain -- one¡¯s own or others¡¯ -- suggests that we have
no expectation of meaning or justice. The message of the Consolation is presumably that the best thing people can do, when
faced with the ¡°slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,¡± is to try to think
clearly and ask the right questions. It¡¯s probably not for the conclusions
reached (if any there are) that so many people have turned to Boethius across
the centuries. Rather, like Chaucer I would suppose, they read it for the
process of enquiry and learning the book records, and the hope it proposes
that, somewhere, there is indeed an answer and a justice, a system and a
pattern – a Providence.
People
have always turned to the Consolation
when they were directly confronted with the reality of unavoidable pain.
Without a more or less intense need to ask with the imprisoned Boethius, ¡°Why
do such things happen in life? How can I possibly make any sense of them?¡± it
probably remains a closed text. If Chaucer¡¯s narrators look toward Boethius
most often using terms of Fortune, they collapse in confusion (as the Nuns¡¯
Priest does in the last of the initial quotations) when they try to encapsulate
the theme of Providence in the space of a phrase, because the vagaries or sheer
incomprehensibility of chance are the necessary starting points for a process
of deep thought that cannot arrive with any ease at a concept of divine
fore-knowing, since that insight is the highest form of wisdom. Fortune¡¯s wheel
is a natty device; what it expresses is an abrupt and inexplicable,
unacceptable, scandalous loss of an essential happiness. The turning of the
wheel brings the great transformations: ¡°From wo to wele and after out of joie.¡±
Have
we somewhere lost the art of great unhappiness? ¡°The worst thing that could
happen to me¡± tends today to degenerate into the bathos of ¡°a tragic accident,¡±
where the main victim is the notion of tragedy. Dante set the stakes higher in
the sonnet that comes immediately after the poem quoted earlier, in the Vita Nuova. The sighs of grief at his
loss are compared to those of a soul abbandonata
de la sua salute (which the English translates as ¡°abandoned by its hope of
happiness.¡±) How is it possible to go on living at such a moment? ¡°I wish I
were dead!¡± today sounds melodramatic, words overused; but the words are no
sooner out than the mind starts jumping in all directions. ¡°Why did I not
perish at death?¡± asks Job. ¡°The reason I am unwilling to die is not because I
would rather be unhappy than not be at all, but a fear that after death I may
be still more unhappy,¡± replies Augustine. ¡°Who would bear the whips and scorns
of time... when he himself might his quietus make... But that the dread of
something after death... puzzles the will,¡± explains Hamlet, recalling
Augustine, and reaching for his copy of Boethius.
Works Cited
Primary sources
The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri with translation and comment by John D. Sinclair. 3 Volumes. London: John Lane The Bodley Head. 1946.
The Riverside Chaucer. Third Edition. General Editor Larry D. Benson. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company. 1987.
Troilus and Criseyde: ¡®The Book of Troilus¡¯ by Geoffrey Chaucer. Edited by B. A. Windeatt. London: Longman. 1984.
Chaucer and the Italian Trecento. Edited by Piero Boitani. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 1983.
Chaucer¡¯s Troilus and Criseyde: ¡°Subgit to alle Poesye.¡± Essays in Criticism. Edited by R. A. Shoaf. Binghampton, New York: Medieval & Renaissance Texts & Studies. 1992.
Critical Essays on Geoffrey Chaucer. Edited by Thomas C. Stillinger. New York: G. K. Hall & Co. 1998.
The Dante Encyclopedia. Edited by Richard Lansing. New York: Garland Publishing. 2000.
The European Tragedy of Troilus. Edited by Piero Boitani. Oxford: The Clarendon Press. 1989.
Patterson, Lee. Chaucer and the Subject of History. London: Routledge. 1991.
Taylor, Karla Chaucer Reads the Divine Comedy. Palo Alto, Calif.: Stanford University Press. 1989.
Wallace, David. Chaucerian Polity: Absolute Lineages and Associational Forms in England and Italy. Stanford: Stanford University Press. 1997.
Wetherbee, Winthrop. Chaucer and the Poets: An Essay on Troilus and Criseyde. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. 1984.
Windeatt, Barry. Troilus and Criseyde (Oxford Guides to Chaucer). Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1992
Abstract
Although it is
basically a translation of a poem by Boccaccio, Chaucer¡¯s Troilus and
Criseyde can easily be shown to have been influenced by Chaucer¡¯s reading
of texts by Dante, Petrarch, and Boethius. In modern editions this is often
indicated in a brief footnote but the full depth of the effect of such
intertextuality is not accessible by means of that meager information. Chaucer¡¯s
knowledge of works by Dante and Boethius, and perhaps of Petrarch¡¯s Canzoniere,
was such that readers who have not read them will be unable to perceive the
full complexity of the effect of the echoes of them found in Troilus and
Criseyde. Yet Chaucer nowhere indicates what he is doing and the
interpretations of his text are rendered the more complex by such secret
strategies.