I have subscribed to the New Yorker for a few years now. (Friday afternoons, I usually take that and the Speccie to the pub. They’re good reading partners, despite the difference in political outlook and tone.)
There’s not a whole lot of good stuff on medieval history covered in the New Yorker, so this week it was with some delight I read this piece by Joan Acocella about Geoffrey Chaucer and the Canterbury Tales. Well worth a look, although I’m afraid the link I’ve provided only directs to an abstract of the much-longer article. You’ll have to subscribe to get the full thing. (Or maybe wait awhile? Sometimes they put stuff up after a delay of a few weeks.)
Poor old Peter Ackroyd, a writer I very much admire, takes a bit of a kicking from Acocella for his free-handed retelling of the Tales. I doubt he minds very much. If he does, he shouldn’t. Granted, the combination of a prose rendition and Ackroyd’s pottymouthed generosity with modern profanity gives his version of the tales a very different feel to the original. The poetry is literally lost in translation. But then, isn’t all poetry? If you want to inhale the spirit of Chaucer, just read the original. Middle English ain’t that hard, and every decent verse edition out there has extensive footnotes to help you along the way.
Ackroyd’s book, as it says quite pointedly in the title, is a retelling. It’s a spirited modern take, and a good introduction both to Ackroyd and to Chaucer.
Anyway, subscribe to the New Yorker, read the piece and have a very Merry Christmas.
This entry was posted
on Monday, December 21st, 2009 at 4:44 pm and is filed under Comment, Historical Application and Problems.
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Canterbury, NY
I have subscribed to the New Yorker for a few years now. (Friday afternoons, I usually take that and the Speccie to the pub. They’re good reading partners, despite the difference in political outlook and tone.)
There’s not a whole lot of good stuff on medieval history covered in the New Yorker, so this week it was with some delight I read this piece by Joan Acocella about Geoffrey Chaucer and the Canterbury Tales. Well worth a look, although I’m afraid the link I’ve provided only directs to an abstract of the much-longer article. You’ll have to subscribe to get the full thing. (Or maybe wait awhile? Sometimes they put stuff up after a delay of a few weeks.)
Poor old Peter Ackroyd, a writer I very much admire, takes a bit of a kicking from Acocella for his free-handed retelling of the Tales. I doubt he minds very much. If he does, he shouldn’t. Granted, the combination of a prose rendition and Ackroyd’s pottymouthed generosity with modern profanity gives his version of the tales a very different feel to the original. The poetry is literally lost in translation. But then, isn’t all poetry? If you want to inhale the spirit of Chaucer, just read the original. Middle English ain’t that hard, and every decent verse edition out there has extensive footnotes to help you along the way.
Ackroyd’s book, as it says quite pointedly in the title, is a retelling. It’s a spirited modern take, and a good introduction both to Ackroyd and to Chaucer.
Anyway, subscribe to the New Yorker, read the piece and have a very Merry Christmas.
This entry was posted on Monday, December 21st, 2009 at 4:44 pm and is filed under Comment, Historical Application and Problems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.