I found it interesting how Gower and Chaucer converted some of the social structures in the ancient tale to fit in with a more modern sensibility. In Gower’s version, Phebus’ “love” cuckolds him with a “yonge kniht”(790); in Chaucer’s version, Phoebus is the “flour of bachilrie” (125) whose “wyf” (139)sleeps with a man of inferior degree. Both medieval authors insert kinds of relationships into the story which make them fit in better within a context of courtly romances and medieval knights and their ladies but which is totally incongruous with the tale’s ancient origins. Yet, does a myth really belong to a certain time and age? Maybe Chaucer and Gower have done exactly what one ought to do with the myth, which is take the story template and give it a context and background that is more meaningful to its audience.
Yet the message of the tale changes as well with these slight changes. In Ovid’s version, the main message was simply that one ought not to convey information that the hearer will not like. In Chaucer, it becomes “A wikked tonge is worse than a feend,” (320) perhaps, because, after all, women cannot be expected to control their appetites. In Gower, the lesson is to “Be war therfore and sei the beste” (815). These slightly different morals seem to point to the way the authors apportion blame differently among Phoebus, Coronis, and the raven variously. Chaucer’s tale seems to place most of the blame on the raven; for him to tell Phoebus of the affair was “wikked.” Ovid, meanwhile, seems to depict Phoebus hasty action and mercurial nature as the cause for both the raven’s and Coronis’ unfortunate fates.

  If men shal telle proprely a thyng,
                  The word moot cosyn be to the werkyng.    
211         I am a boystous man, right thus seye I
212         Ther nys no difference, trewely
213         Bitwixe a wyf that is of heigh degree,
214         If of hir body dishonest she bee,
215         And a povre wenche, oother than this --
216         If it so be they werke bothe amys -
217         But that the gentile, in estaat above,
218         She shal be cleped his lady, as in love;
219         And for that oother is a povre womman,
220         She shal be cleped his wenche or his lemman.
221         And, God it woot, myn owene deere brother,
222         Men leyn that oon as lowe as lith that oother.
223         Right so bitwixe a titlelees tiraunt
224         And an outlawe or a theef erraunt,
225         The same I seye: ther is no difference.
                   

This is one of the central ideas of the Canterbury Tales that Chaucer has danced around, but has never explicitly expressed. You cannot change the essential nature of a beast or a man, and yet how that person or status is viewed is changed wholly dependent on the shifting sands of society. I believe this speaks directly to the notion of the Canterbury Tales as a commentary on the shifting roles of members of society. A priest is therefore a saint or a thief depending on the paradigm. 

Contradiction in the Manciple's Prologue and Tale

Jeremy pointed out some striking contradictions in the Manciple's Prologue and Tale, but I would like to highlight one more. The moral of the Manciple's Tale is that silence is golden: the Manciple tells the pilgrims, "The firste vertu, sone, if thow wolt leere, / Is to restreine and kepe wel thy tongue; / Thus lerner children whan that they ben yonge" (332-4). Not only is it best to keep silent, but it is also best never to be the bearer of bad news, the mistake of the poor crow: "Beth war, and taketh kepe what that ye seye: / Ne telleth nevere no man in youre lif / How that another man hath dight his wif" (310-2). And one further variation on the same theme, he says, "keep wel thy tonge, and kepe thy freend" (319). The Manciple tells us one: to be silent, two: not to be the bearers of bad news, and three: silence has more friends. I found his message incredible ironic considering the Prologue to the Tale, in which the Manciple goes on a rather long and nasty rant about the Cook. The Manciple says to the Cook, in front of all the other pilgrims, "Hoold cloos thy mouth, man, by thy fader kin! / The devel of helle sette his foot therin! / Thy cursed breeth infecte wol us alle" (37-9). It's one thing to subtly hint towards a friend's bad breath by offering him a mint, but to say that that the devil himself has set foot in someone's mouth is quite harsh. He even says, "Fy, stinking swin, fy! Foule moot thee falle!" (40). He calls the Cook a swine, and then wishes ill upon him-- this hardly seems fair to the Cook, who is probably just suffering from a bad hangover. The Manciple's insults seem even more offensive after hearing his Tale, in which he touts silence and making friends by keeping silence. Perhaps the Manciple should learn to take his own advice!

The Manciple ends his tale by saying, "He is thral to whom that he hath sayd / A tale of which he is now yvele apayd. / My sone, be war, and be noon auctour newe / Of tidynges, wheither they been false or trewe. / Whereso thou come, amonges hye or lowe, / Kepe wel thy tonge and thenk upon the crowe." (L. 357ff) This is not only incredibly revealing with regards to Chaucer's conception of discourse but also by extension alludes to the Tales themselves. Chaucer here, uses the tale from Ovid to make this strong point that one's words in a sense serve as a mill stone around one's neck. Moreover, he states taht regardless of the veracity or the tone of events it is better to be silent. This is curious because the Tales have themselves been fashioned as a compendia of stories and interactions from a particular event. Chaucer very directly seems to be referencing his trade and hinting at the dangers of verbosity.

This has been pointed to throughout the Manciple's tale, as he says "A jangler is to God abhomynable." (L. 343) This may again be the self-deprecation that Chaucer uses, as a means of fashioning the Canterbury Tales as a report of an actual event, while simultaneously highlighting its very textual nature. It is interesting that throughout this course we have seen Chaucer using other stories. In the aggregate one truly gets a sense of the deftness with which he chooses and then adapts stories to convey particular themes and the way he puts them into the mouth of his characters. In the case of the Manciple, whose words nearly get him in a fight in the Prologue his tale seems particularly fitting.

The narrator contradicts himself glaringly on two occasions in the Manciple's Tale. First, he claims that he is "a man noght textuel" and "wol not telle of textes never a del" immediately after citing a variety of sources in order to rationalize the irrationality of Phebus's measures to restrict his wife's freedom and ensure her fidelity (cf. 162 - 187). The absence of such allusions in the more traditional sources of the tale, amplifies the significance of the narrator's attempt to cover his tracks and downplay his knowledge of external sources. It is quizzical why he doing this when the elucidation of the woman's actions adds realism and logical justification to his tale.

The narrator again contradicts himself when he indicts men - "Alle thise ensamples speke I by thise men/ that ben untrewe, and nothing by wommen./ For men han evere a likerous appetit" - only to present a tale of a woman's adultery (187-189). Again, the narrator's interjections seem incongruous with his tale.

It seems that the narrator is trying to adopt a persona and stance that directly oppose that of the tale's ostensible teller and its narrative. The tale-teller demonstrates learnedness and sophistication, and establishes credility through his multiple allusions; the narrator tries to portray himself as a simple-minded and "boistous" (211) relayer of folklore. The tale recounts the a woman's betrayal of her husband; the narrator is adamant that only males are guilty of extra-marital affairs. I wonder what the purpose establishing dual and duelling narrator identities through this paradoxical set-up could be.

"If men shal telle proprely a thing/the word moot cosyn be to the workyng." (l. 209) The diction initially struck me as odd, as "cousin" seems a strange word choice when one is emphasizing precision and the exactness of word mirroring deed, yet upon reading the line a second time, I found myself thinking it seemed strangely apropos, thematically. The way that Chaucer and Ovid tell the tale, stringing other people's narratives in and relating by hearsay, it certainly seems "cosyn to the workyng." Though this is ostensibly the Manciple's tale, he repeatedly refers to the "wise clerks" (314) from whom he takes it, and strangely relinquishes the reins to his mother for the closing words.

I did think it interesting that Chaucer otherwise glossed over the family aspect, however. Ovid's inclusion of the first bird's tale, which brings in a curious thread of incest at the end ("But of what use was that to me if, after all, Nyctimene, who was changed into a bird because of her vile sins, was put into my place? Or have you not heard the tale all Lesbos knows too well, how Nyctimene outraged the sanctity of her father's bed?" 590), is completely dashed from the Chaucer. Family in Ovid seems to have a stifling function, as shown in the first bird's undoing (watching a family of girls unwrap a box against orders, which, contrary to the Pandora myth, here contains only a boy and a snake) and the Nyctimene parallel. It's arguable whether the mother in the Chaucer is serving the same function, as she is granted a voice for the final words of the piece, yet the voice is used only to ordain silence.

A major difference between the Manciple’s Tale and the story depicted in the Metamorphoses is the emphasis on social status. The Manciple takes great pains to establish Phebus’s high social worth. He then goes on to say: “This Phebus, which that thoghte upon no gile/ Deceived was, for al his jolitee/ For under him another hadde she/ A man of litel reputacioun/ Nat worth to Phebus in comparisoun” (196-200). In Ovid’s story, on the other hand, the narrator does not stress Phebus’s high status and refers to the lover simply as “the youth of Thessaly” (103). As a result of Chaucer’s alterations, the wife commits two transgressions: she is unfaithful to her husband and she crosses clearly defined class lines. Her act thus threatens to disrupt the social order. Since the figure of Phebus is associated with order, the murder of his wife could be read as an attempt to reestablish order. But his subsequent irrational behavior toward the bird makes such a reading impossible. The figure normally associated with order thus comes to be associated with chaos. A similar reversal takes place in the Manciple’s Prologue when the figure associated with disorder gains the capacity to bring harmony: “I se wel, it is necessarye/ Where that we goon, good drinke we with us carye/ For that wol turne rancour and disese/ T’acord and love, and many a wrong appese/ O Bacus, yblessed be thy name/ That so kanst turnen ernest into game” (95-100). I am curious to find out what other people make of this reversal.