The Pardoner's Relics

When the Pardoner is described by Chaucer in the General Prologue of The Canterbury Tales, he is given forty-five lines. Seven of these lines are indicative of his singing, whom he is traveling with, and his personal history. Six are given to his role in the church. Fourteen are devoted to describing the physical appearance of the Pardoner, and lastly, a whopping eighteen lines describe the relics being sold by the Pardoner (Malo, 1). Such emphasis placed on the entrepreneurship of the Pardoner and his particular product cannot be accidental; Chaucer wants the reader to be aware of the value placed upon the relics by the Pardoner. According to Robin Malo of Pennsylvania State University, the purchase and displaying of relics was a lucrative business, even considered to be a “cultural phenomena,” (Malo, 84). But the idea of the relic itself is a complex one, with many subcategories. At the time of the Canterbury Pilgrimage, there existed relic cults, which were “widespread and difficult to monitor,” and were known to enact such abominations as assaulting those considered holy in order to obtain certain relics; the relics themselves were also equally difficult to monitor (Malo, 84). These relics were also divided into two categories of worth, which consisted of notable (whole) and non-notable (fragmented or falsified) relics, and it is the non-notable relics of which the Pardoner is a purveyor. These were not regarded by clergy or laity as having theological or spiritual worth or effectiveness, and so were viewed scathingly by many at the time as being trivializing of “the cult of saints,” (Malo, 85). Chaucer’s use of historical context in his portrayal of the Pardoner reveals him to be a member of a larger group-that of historical relic custodians, whose character is emphatically immoral-a character description interpreted by some as being meant to distract the Pardoner’s fellow pilgrims from his perceived homosexuality (a characteristic also rendered as emphatically immoral). Literary evidence, though, points more strongly in the direction of the Pardoner, not as a man attempting to deceive, but rather, as a cross-dressing woman compensating for that which she is lacking.

The idea that the Pardoner is a homosexual is a widespread one, derived from Chaucer’s description of him in the General Prologue as (to use modern English) “singing loudly,” having “hair as yellow as wax…[which was] smooth [and] hung as does a clump of flax…to make an attractive appearance.” He is also described as having “a voice as small as a goat…[like] a gelding or mare,” (Chaucer, 672-691). L.D. Benson’s translation of The Canterbury Tales as maintained through Harvard College transposes “gelding or mare” as “a eunuch or a homosexual.” While this was common and relatively correct usage at the time, this notion is one based primarily in secondary (physical) characteristics: the effeminate vanity displayed by the Pardoner in the way he wears his hair, his shining eyes, his high voice, and his lack of facial hair. According to Jeffrey Rayner Myers of Goucher College, these are more indicative of a “clearly ambiguous sexual status,” rather than that of a homosexual. Myers even postulates that Chaucer’s use of the word mare refers not to a homosexual, but to a female, stating, “There is no known instance in all of Middle English literature of the word mare being used in reference to a homosexual. Furthermore, Myers points out, “neither the Middle English Dictionary nor the Oxford English Dictionary provides any support for the word being used in connection with homosexuality…applied to human beings, ‘mare’ is usually a contemptuous term for a woman: ‘a slut,’” (Myers, 55-56). The use of the word mare, then, implies not that the Pardoner is a homosexual, but that he is a cross-dressing female, a condition more socially acceptable in the Middle Ages than homosexuality.

The idea of the Pardoner as a homosexual is also vested in an implied sexual relationship with his traveling partner, the Summoner, who is described by Chaucer as bearing a “stiff burdoun” to the Pardoner, but in the line immediately following, Chaucer states, “Was never trumpe of half so great a soun,” meaning simply that the Summoner sings a bass accompaniment to the Pardoner’s song (Chaucer, 672-73). Thusly, if there is any implication in the relationship of the traveling pair, it is that they are a couple of migratory criminals. According to Myers, the Summoner is “notoriously heterosexual, a womanizer who is said to know all the secrets of the women of his parish, which he uses to blackmail them into having sex,” (Myers, 56). Also, Chaucer himself describes the Summoner in the General Prologue as secretly knowing how to pull off a clever trick (Chaucer, 652). Furthermore, Myers cites C. David Benson as stating, “The fact that a man is obsessed with having sex with women and is unscrupulous in forcing women into sexual relationships hardly constituted proof of a tendency to engage in or even a willingness to accept homosexual relationships. In fact, the only evidence that is ever offered for the Summoner’s homosexuality is a supposed relationship with the male Pardoner. Unfortunately, the Pardoner’s homosexuality rests largely on a supposed homosexual relationship with the Summoner…this is a circular argument, [and] without other evidence, it cannot stand,” (Myers, 57). Accepting the idea, though, that the Pardoner is a cross-dressing woman, rather than a homosexual man, the undertones of a sexual relationship (of a heterosexual nature) between the Pardoner and Summoner become less heinous, especially if the Summoner is portrayed as a womanizer. The idea of the Pardoner as a woman also falls more into alignment with logic in the case of her interruption of the Wife of Bath, in the midst of a tangent against male sovereignty. This intrusion is quite arguably the reflection of agreement with the Wife of Bath’s feminist ideas in defense of her own sex, rather than a chauvinist outburst. Unfortunately, in the case of this potential alignment of interests, both are exuding the qualities they claim to so despise in the exploitative male population (Myers, 57-58).

So, if the Pardoner is indeed a cross-dressing woman, rather than a homosexual man, and the Summoner is her heterosexual partner, rather than the homosexual partner of the male Pardoner, what is the significance in her vending of false relics? Perhaps the answer lies precisely in her interruption of the Wife of Bath. In the case of a male Pardoner interrupting the Wife, a complex series of manipulations and deference occurs between the two players, in which the male Pardoner acknowledges the intelligence and wisdom of the Wife, deferring to her, and the Wife defers back by asking him for validation as an authority to speak on the subject of marriage. Peculiarly, as the Wife orates her prologue, the Pardoner says to her, “Ye been a noble prechour in this cas….Yet hadde I levere wedde no wyf to-yeere,” (Chaucer, 165-168), meaning that she has effectively used her rhetoric to convince him not to wed. This implies a prior willingness towards marriage, a concept unheard of in the homosexual community in the Middle Ages; a homosexual male Pardoner would not have been able to consummate a marriage besides. This statement, by a male Pardoner, could be construed as a clever diversion from his sexual condition, another con from the self-admitted swindler. However, in the case of a female Pardoner, the utterance makes a great deal more sense. The female Pardoner defers to the Wife of Bath, granting her authority on the subject of marriage, granting her the sovereignty she desires, but with intrinsic motivation. Chaucer places a specific emphasis on the relics offered by the Pardoner, false in nature as is her gender portrayal, stating in the Pardoner’s prologue, “I have relikes and pardoun in my male, as faire as any man in Engelond, which were me yeven by the popes hond. If any of yow wole, of devocion, offren and han myn absolucion, com forth anon, and kneleth heere adoun, and mekely receyveth my pardoun,” (Chaucer, 919-926). Chaucer uses the word “male,” which translates into “bag,” a clever allusion to the sex not granted to the female Pardoner by nature. The Pardoner delivers this rhetorical gem immediately after the Host criticizes the beautiful (to a fault) character in the tale told by the Physician; she herself hides her sex, pretending in turn in an almost blunderingly obvious fashion to be of the opposite gender persuasion. In her interruption of the Wife of Bath, the Pardoner seeks validation for her true gender, and in her testicular allusion, she seeks validation of her false gender. Even after her tale is finished, her gender deception continues, as she is insulted by Harry Bailly, and invites him to kiss her relics, almost inviting him to test the strength of her male façade. The Host wisely reiterates the incompleteness of the Pardoner, perhaps not realizing in what terms he speaks, but once the Knight imposes the Kiss of Peace on the arguing pair, the laughing crowd of pilgrims around them cares nothing for hating either the Pardoner or her sexual alignment.

Just as the relics used by Chaucer are categorized as being fragmented or non-fragmented, so too, is the character marketing them. The Pardoner is described as using rhetoric and avarice and contempt in a grand scheme for wealth through preaching, which becomes the primary focus of the Pardoner’s tale, which in turn becomes a metaphor for the position of each woman on the pilgrimage to Canterbury, and assumedly, all women of the time. In alignment with this metaphor, these female pilgrims must all in a sense deny their sex for material gain; even the Prioress, who wears the slogan “Amor Vincit Omnia” (not referring to love in the spiritual sense), has become a nun in spite of her fixation on physical assets. And according to Myers, the Pardoner’s tale “identifies death with material wealth, but it also identifies death with the outsider working against the group and the group working against the outsider, which leads to a kind of assured mutual destruction,” (Myers, 60). Chaucer builds into his tales through the Pardoner this central motif: “Radix Malorum est Cupiditas,” or, “The Root of all Evils is Desire.” Furthermore, the Pardoner alludes to the Liar’s Paradox, set forth by Epimenides of Crete, who stated, “All men from Crete are liars.” Underlying these two implications is the idea that the Pardoner as a homosexual male would have directed his contempt towards the pilgrims as a result of isolation and marginalization because of his sexual orientation, in an attempt to distract. The Pardoner as a cross-dressing female, however, both makes more logical and literal sense, while also evaporating the identity debate within the Pardoner’s tale and tying one of the most marginalized characters of the Canterbury Tales to the greater issues of gender and equality in relation to her fellow pilgrims.

Works Cited

Benson, L.D. http://www.courses.fas.harvard.edu/~chaucer/teachslf/pard-par.htm. “Chaucer: The Pardoner’s Prologue and Tale—An Interlinear Translation.” 21 March 2002.

Chaucer, Geoffrey, and Benson, L.D. The Riverside Chaucer. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2008. Print.

Malo, Robyn. "The Pardoner’s Relics (And Why They Matter The Most)." Chaucer Review 43.1 (2008): 82-102. Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Web. 18 Apr. 2011.

Myers, Jeffrey Rayner. "Chaucer's Pardoner as Female Eunuch." Studia Neophilologica 72.1 (2000):54-62. Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Web. 18 Apr. 2011.

That You May Live

“Abortion Stops a Beating Heart,” “Abortion=Murder,” “Pro-Life,” “Choose Life.” Bumper stickers bearing these various slogans are highly commonplace on today’s motorways. Moving billboards of personal opinion, these stickers carry heavy implications regarding the hot-button topic of abortion (which has been debated into the proverbial ground). But when the statement “Choose Life” first emerged, its original insinuation was unrelated totally to abortion or any choice regarding politics or specific religious belief. The statement “Choose Life” was part of a valedictory issued by Moses in which the culmination of the covenantal code of ethics occurred. In this farewell, Moses instructed God’s people, not to fight against abortion with “Choose Life” bumper stickers, but instead to choose and ethical way of life, invoking deeper meaning than a decal or a debate.

The Hebrew statement, “Uvacharta Bachayyim,” found in Deuteronomy, means “Choose life, that you may live,” a slightly elongated form of the more common “Choose Life” slogan. This directive is part of the larger quote, “I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day; I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life-if you and your offspring would live-by loving your God, heeding His commands, and holding fast to Him. For thereby you shall have life and shall long endure upon the soil that the LORD swore to your ancestors, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to give to them.” By issuing such a decree, Moses called the Hebrew people to a higher mandate than simply living an ethical life. Spelled out in these lines is a merism of totality-heaven and earth, life and death, blessing and curse. Hereby, Moses defines his axiom “Choose life, that you may live,” with the implicit motivator of retributive justice. This implication is the culmination of the covenantal code of ethics, laid down in every biblical parable since Genesis, and served as a warning to the Hebrew people. Moses, with his departing words, was preparing the Hebrew people for a lifetime of survival, as he, the last great prophet of Judaism, was preparing himself for his own retribution.

For His people to simply survive in the Promised Land, however, was not the desire of the Hebrew God; Moses’ duty with his dictation was to groom the Hebrews in the ways of the teachings of God, with his own recollection and interpretation, so that as a nation, Israel might perpetuate in an objective manner, adding nothing to the teachings and taking nothing away. Applying to future generations and to each individual, Moses’ delegation was to serve as the foundation of the reputation of the Hebrew people as a whole, and as a part of the greater world as they inhabited the Promised Land. The Promised Land was just that-promised-however, the descendents of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob could inhabit it only as long as they were worthy to do so, symbolizing the obligation of the Hebrew people to God and to other human beings. Adhering to the idea of retributive justice, the notion that if enough Hebrews wandered from God’s ethical code, their occupation of the Promised Land and their community would fall into peril, is inherent.

Fortunately or unfortunately, another thread is woven into the Hebrew tapestry by Moses’ “Choose Life” proclamation: free will. By issuing the responsibility of securing the blessings of God for the present and posterity to the Hebrews, God through Moses also gave the option abandon the covenantal agreement. This bestowed upon God’s people freedom of choice, but not without warning. Moses also says, “I command you this day, to love the LORD your God, to walk in His ways, and to keep His commandments, His laws, and His rules, that you may thrive and increase, and that the LORD your God may bless you in the land that you are about to enter and possess.” This is the precursor to the “Choose Life” directive, which he tactfully follows with, “But if your heart turns away, and you give no heed, and are lured into the worship and service of other gods, I declare to you this day that you shall certainly perish; you shall not long endure on the soil that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess.” By these words, the listening standing ones are made aware of the consequences of their actions in the land they are entering, and yet, some are later led to ignore their own retribution, seeking their own fortune in a world they perceive as godless.

Moses, as the last great prophet in Jewish tradition, spoke for God when he uttered the words “Choose Life,” meaning not the couched opposite “Do Not Kill.” He meant instead to instruct the Hebrew people in the ways in which he’d been instructed to by God, and to present God’s chosen nation with the knowledge and ability to take up the bride of God’s blessings or to shun God and his covenant. That Moses’ valedictory has been so misrepresented and misinterpreted is both a tragedy, and in some cases, a religious travesty.

Dealing in Absolutes

In a faithful tradition devoted to its God, people are not inclined to kill; neither is a God committed to His covenant with His people likely to command His people to kill. Where the Akedah, or “Binding of Isaac” is concerned, its protagonist, Abraham, was aware of such equilibrium. Prophesied before the Akedah, however, is Abraham’s future fatherhood of the nations of Israel; Abraham is also aware that, when he concedes to God’s request to sacrifice his son Isaac, no harm will come to Isaac. Abraham seems to realize that if he is to be the father of a great religious nation, he must be possessed of an unshakeable faith, and to be as such, he must question the ostensibly unreasonable request given to him by his “just and right” God. It is debatable by these terms that the test most significant in the Akedah is not given to Abraham by God, but rather to God by Abraham, but if Abraham is such a theonomous man, as he is traditionally hailed, is this truly the case?

“He said, ‘Take, please, your son, your favored one, whom you love, Isaac, and go to the land of the Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the heights that I will point out to you.’” In great contrast to Abram’s initial call to faith, this was the request of God, given to Abraham, asking him to partake in yet another biblical covenant between man and God. To this request, Abraham complies immediately, though in his submission there are exhibited ties between the Akedah and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, in which God unjustly plans to raze both cities without distinction between the evil and the innocent. Abraham says to God in the latter story, “Far be it from You! Shall not the judge of all the earth deal justly?” And, astonishingly, to Abraham, the LORD complies, conceding to Abraham that for a certain number of innocents, the cities will be spared. Such is also the case in the Akedah, as Abraham pleads silently for his son’s life with his obedience. Therefore, any trepidation Abraham may have felt as a result of God’s request (the Tanakh divulges none) would be not in suffering the potential loss of his son, but would rather come from Abraham’s realization that such action was outside of the previously established character of God.

Undoubtedly, God’s terms are made obvious in the Akedah, but if the true test is given not to Abraham, but to God, what must the terms of Abraham’s test be? By his use of the Hebrew particle of entreaty, “na,” which translates roughly to “please” in English, God communicated his intentions to Abraham, and as a result, Abraham expects no harm to come to his son Isaac. In taking his son to the place of sacrifice he has prepared, Abraham tells his servants to linger farther away, saying, “We will return to you.” In this statement, Abraham lays the framework of his wordless expostulation: he goes to the place of sacrifice with every intention to obey the will of God, whom he fears, but knows in his heart that the murder of Isaac is not God’s true will. In this, he expects not that Isaac will die, but that God will intervene. Abraham successfully interprets the will of God without being told, and therefore embodies both sides of the long-fought philosophical battle between autonomy and theonomy; there is proof of this in Abraham’s sacrifice of the ram after the messenger of God calls off the sacrifice of Isaac. Abrahams takes the ram and gives it to the glory of God of his own accord, without command, and yet, while the text presupposes that Abraham does only what God commands, as God commands it, the sacrifice of the ram is pleasing to God’s will. However, it is not God himself who praises Abraham for this final action, but rather, His messenger, the angel, speaks to Abraham a second time, saying, “By Myself, I swear, the LORD declares: because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your favored one, I will bestow My blessing upon you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars of heaven and the sands on the seashore; and your descendants shall seize the gates of their foes. All the nations of the earth shall bless themselves by your descendants because you have heard My voice.” Ironically, by this hearing of God’s voice is Abraham cut off entirely from God and those he loves; he never speaks with God again, he has lost his son Ishmael, his son Isaac and wife Sarah leave him.

Under the stipulations of the Akedah, perhaps Abraham did indeed test the faithfulness of God’s word to His people, in which case, God seemingly “passes” Abraham’s test. However, under the requisites of God’s core character, which outline God as omniscient and omnipotent, theoretically, no man on earth could truly test the will of God, as God will already know the outcome. A test is not required therein of God, but rather of Abraham, who finds the solution to the ethical paradox of the Akedah and “passes” God’s test by displaying devotion and awe. In this “passing” is God’s perpetual patriarch born, with his faith substantiated not by doubt, but by appropriate inquisition.

Abraham was asked to take his son Isaac into the “land of the Moriah,” a place associated with the Temple Mount, or Mount Moriah, a highly sacred site in the heart of the Old City of Jerusalem. However, this is not specifically stated in the passage where God makes his entreaty to Abraham. In the Christian biblical tradition, the area known as the “land of the Moriah” may also be interpreted as including Calvary, the place where it is believed Jesus Christ the Messiah was crucified. If this proposition of locale is valid, not only is Abraham’s faith in God acute, but his professions are also prophetic: “God will see to the sheep for His burnt offering,” and, “On the mount of the LORD there is vision.” In disparity with the juxtaposition of Christ, however, God does not truly desire the death of Isaac. In the case of the Akedah, God deals only in the lessons of absolutes: the absolute of the sanctity of human life, the absolute of Divine authority and reason, and the absolute faith possessed by Abraham.

To Be Truly Alive

Imagine a perfect world, a world filled with impeccable beauty. In this world, all life necessities are provided, man roams free with no shame of his nakedness, no evil is present, and the only “hitch”, per se, is the requirement of one to care for this oasis. Imagine now a darker world, one in which man has no free will, no independent thought, no judgment, no decision making ability, and ultimately, no real life. What if this heaven and hell were one in the same? Such is the predicament posed by the test of the Parable of Transgression: Did Adam and Eve fail God’s “test;” was this failure a stipulation for human life?

In order to examine these pressing questions, one must have an operational definition of this “life.” According to Dictionary.com, life is characterized primarily as “the condition that distinguishes organisms from inorganic objects and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism, reproduction, and the power of adaptation to environment through changes originating internally.” A secondary definition describes life as “a corresponding state, existence, or principle of existence conceived of as belonging to the soul; the general or universal condition of human existence.” This human existence, unique to mankind, is typified by cognitive awareness, that is, “having knowledge; conscious; cognizant; informed; alert; knowledgeable; sophisticated.” In the book of Genesis (in Tanakh), chapter two, this life is given rise “from the dust of the earth,” at which point “man became a living being.” This, however, as exemplified by operational definition, is not the dawning of human life, as this Earth Creature (as described in Tanakh as being called such by God in Hebrew, the language of creation) is not described as self aware. Earth Creature is placed in Eden, the paradise created for him by God, and is instructed to care for the “gift” that is this “perfect” home and to refrain from eating from the tree of knowledge of good and bad (implying in a merism of totality knowledge of all, as possessed by the divine). He is then given a partner, perhaps so that he is not alone as God himself-woman (From Man, called so by man, as he is given permission by God to do so). This loneliness, however, seems to be God’s motivation for presenting his test to Earth Creature and From Man.

At the opening of the book of Genesis (in Tanakh), the article “bereshit” is used to demonstrate chronology in terms of “when,” rather than using the traditional phrase “In the beginning,” as in the bible. This implies the presence of no definite time of foundation, but rather the presence of nothingness before the story begins, meaning creation began from nothing, and the creator who “speaks” metaphorically possesses some sort of extremely singular alterity. This defines the creator, “God,” inherently as unaccompanied in the universe before the metaphor of his performative utterance creates the duality around which all else is constructed. Though God is described as having no body or material form (and therefore cannot actually speak, walk on the earth, etc.), no empirical reality, and as being omnipotent and omniscient, for all his greatness he is still alone. Perhaps it is for this reason that God initially creates man; when he recognizes his own despair in Earth Creature’s loneliness, he gifts Earth Creature with his partner and blesses them with the ability to perpetuate and flourish in the garden, with the predisposition that only by becoming “one flesh” can they achieve completeness. These gifts of life, habitat, provision, perpetuation, and companionship are bound together by another resource which cannot be ignored, one which is not fully tapped until test is administered.

Underlying the character established in Earth Creature and From Man, but seemingly unaware to them, is the capability of free will, and in such, the capability to be the embodiment of the goodness of God. Having been made “B’tselem Elohim,” in God’s likeness, having God’s implicit ethical standards and potential, although not guaranteeing that Earth Creature and From Man will use this capacity, couches the existence of nothing evil in the totality of creation, especially once God himself declared his creation to be “tov meod,” or very good. What overshadows this faculty of natural goodness is free will, that is, the choice to neglect the inclination towards the good.

The employment of this ability to neglect the capability for good occurs at the moment From Man and Earth Creature are tempted by the serpent, an instrument of God, when he purposefully misrepresents the prohibition given to Earth Creature before the creation of From Man, regarding the tree of knowledge of good and bad. The serpent describes the knowledge attainable therein as being like that of the gods, divine in nature, and that by possessing it, man would become like sons of God. By this slip of information, God is arguably attempting to instruct Earth Creature and From Man to be candid in their actions by the agent of his serpent, and is testing their (specifically Earth Creature’s) discretion. By their disobedience, they are taught how to act by God’s will in the world, but God’s great desired outcome is also enacted: Earth Creature and From Man have the desire to acquire knowledge, and at the moment Earth Creature and From Man partake of the “forbidden fruit,” they become self aware, and thusly the true Adam and Eve.

Awaking in Eden from their ignorance, Adam and Eve realize they are naked, and are borne into human life in its truest form, as we are all born naked. When God “discovers” (it is also arguable that he already knew of this event, in his omniscience) this treachery, he gives Adam and Eve a chance to confess their betrayal. This is the true test of God for man, which man fails. But is this “failure” really failure? The relationship between God and mankind is now one characterized by enmity; he curses man and woman to a lifetime of “’itsavon,” toil. Adam and Eve are clothed in animal skins, a foreshadowing of death in the time of authorship of the chapter of Genesis, and are sent from the safe, simple, unthreatening, providing habitat that is Eden and into the challenging, menacing, working world of uncertainty outside.

Only here, in this outside world, are they able to propagate in the manner intended by God, and only here can Adam and Eve have true human life as operationally defined above. Adam and Eve, however, are not expelled from their perfect oasis in anger, which is a key component to the success/failure dilemma of the Parable of Transgression. God preserves the dignity of his creations by clothing them before their expulsion, and arguably protects them from the very same isolation he himself feels by guarding them from the tree of life (making them mortal, rather than eternal, as God is in a way which cannot be remedied; imaginably, it is difficult to find a partner who is also omnipresent and immortal), supporting the theory that God wanted Adam and Eve to fail the test, therefore succeeding.

According to this fabled tradition, we all are given rise to human life, that is, life lived in a self-aware, cognitive, intellectual, conscientious state. One may argue that this is a tragedy, to have been banished from Eden, a veritable heaven on Earth, but is it? An intellectual would argue that this is not at all the greatest tragedy ever beheld, but rather, the greatest liberation. For by the failure on the part of Adam and Eve in the Parable of Transgression are we freed from the ignorant prison that was Eden, freed to propagate ourselves, to seek knowledge, to hunt, to eat, to shop, to play, to love, to feel pain, to cry, to hate, to be angry, to kill, to die…to be truly alive.