Sunday, April 19, 2009

The Alchemy of Writing

Max commented that while he was reading the Canon's Yeoman's Tale, he was struck by the issue of narrative sterility, inconclusiveness, repetition and failure. I was also struck by the issue of language in the Canon's Yeoman's Prologue, and read the newest pilgrim's description of alchemy as a metaphor for the art of writing — both require labor and control, are seemingly creative acts but ultimately deceptive.   

The yeoman begins describing his master, the alchemist, with these words: 

"Ye wolde wondre how wel and craftily
He koude worke, and that in sondry wise. 
He hath take on hym many a greet emprise,
Which were ful hard for any that is heere
To brynge aboute, but they of hym it leere"
(603-607).

Like the alchemist, who takes on large projects, Chaucer has tackled the gigantic Canterbury Tales, and is now, through the yeoman persona, reflecting on himself as a writer and perhaps even flattering himself a little, very subtly. He's taken the English's vernacular, or the ground/dirt, and turned it "up-so-doun, / and pave it al of silver and of gold" (625-26). With Chaucer's craftiness, the vernacular has become beautiful and valuable. 

Chaucer then admits his deceptions — he passes himself off as lesser in public, and lets his products shine rather than taking the glory for himself. Like the Canon, he rides in dirty, "sluttissh" clothes, and the yeoman responds, "he shal nevere thee! ... He is to wys, in feith, as I bileeve. / That that is overdoon, it wol nat preeve / Aright" (641, 644-45). In short, the Canon knows, wisely, that making his actions accord too well with the yeoman's accounts of him would not turn out well — it'd be seen as a vice. Like the Canon, if Chaucer showed off his power with words too much, he'd put himself in danger because of the widely-thought maxim that "For whan a man hath over-greet a wit, / Ful oft hym happeth to mysusen it" (648-49). Too much preening and showing off could trip up both the Canon and Chaucer. 

More comparisons can be drawn as the yeoman continues describing his master to the other pilgrims. The alchemist and his helper, like an author and his language, "to muchel folk ... doon illusioun" (673). And, like alchemy is an imperfect science, so is language slippery and difficult to control: 

"Yet is it fals, but ay we han good hope 
It for to doon, and after it we grope. 
But that science is so fer us biforn,
We mowen nat, although we hadden it sworn,
It overtake, it slit awey so faste."
(678-82). 

Both alchemists and authors are constantly in danger of their materials and work exposing themselves for what they are: illusions and deceptions. We've seen throughout the Tales incidents in which Chaucer slyly reveals various pilgrims' attempts to create illusions through language. The alchemist demonstrates this concern with the maintenance of his deceptive image as he rides over to see what his yeoman is up to, and meantimes handily provides us the notion that language is dangerous and potentially deceptive when he threatens the helper: "Spek no wordes mo ... Thou sclaundrest me heere in this compaignye, / And eek discoverest that thou sholdest hyde" (693, 695-96). 

In the Middle Ages, language "represented a human equivalent to the Word that had created the world, and humankind and language within that" (Cooper 59). Like an alchemist, Chaucer creates a whole little world of his own through language, and like the Canon tries to turn dirt to gold, Chaucer tries to turn vernacular English into the Word for a fictional world.

Maybe it's force-fitting two pieces of a puzzle that don't match to try to read this prologue as a metaphor for the magic of writing, but I couldn't resist. We've seen too many examples of slippery language, deception and illusions and failure to control meaning throughout the Tales for me to relinquish the notion that Chaucer might view writing as similar to alchemy — illusory and even dangerous if taken too far beyond one's limits of wit, or knowledge. 

Cooper, Helen. "Review: The Word and the World." Essays in Criticism, LIX:1. Oxford: Oxford University Press, January 2009. 

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