As a coping mechanism for the endless lockdown that is Covid, I have taken to alternating genre books that I like with pieces of literature which are “good for me.” Such is my excuse for having a crack at The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer. Written toward the end of the 14th Century, they are a collection of stories told in (mostly) rhyming verse, the conceit being that a bunch of (not necessarily sober) pilgrims gathered together in a London pub agree to a competition to tell the most entertaining story during a trip to Canterbury and back. Nowadays, London to Canterbury is about an hour and a quarter in light traffic. But in Chaucer’s time it was a five-day journey on a gently-ridden horse. Needless to say, the pilgrims’ tales are not flash fiction.
As you would expect from a medieval tome, there’s a fair bit about beautiful maidens, modest and chaste. Chaucer on wives, though, is a bit more interesting. Chaucer’s wives have minds of their own, don’t take nonsense from their husbands, and are not above the odd dalliance should it take their fancy. They also expect to be properly provided for. Chaucer has one wife, while telling a tale, say the following.
“The silly husband always has to pay,
He has to clothe us, he has to array
Our bodies to enhance his reputation,
While we dance round in all this decoration.
And if he cannot pay, as it may chance,
Or won’t submit to such extravagance,
Thinking his money thrown away and lost,
Then someone else will have to bear the cost”
Think of that what you may, it isn’t dry and it isn’t boring. What it is, though, is a crass editing error. The speaker here is clearly a wife, but these lines appear in The Shipman’s Tale, a (very male) sea captain’s story about a merchant’s wife and an amorous monk. Chaucer, in all probability, originally intended the story to be told by a woman but then changed his mind. And, having changed his mind, he missed this in his revision. Rookie error! At least my editing is better than Chaucer’s!
Except it isn’t. Having sent off my final edits of Braking Day to the redoubtable Leah, I have turned my attention to the V______ R___ manuscript. Having not looked at this for months and months, I thought I’d give it a complete read through before tackling the edits suggested by my agent, the estimable Brady, and his assistant, James.
Not having read it for so long, it was almost like coming to it as a reader. And, even if I say so myself, it’s not a bad read. Unlike Braking Day, V______ R____ is told from two points of view rather than one. In the middle of the book, D is working with M on a project. M tells D to go home and D does so. End of scene. I then cut to a different point of view and return to M, still working on the project an hour after we last left him. Shock horror, D is still there! Even worse, M tells D to go home. Again!
On the plus side, I’m in good company. Neither Brady nor James nor any of my beta readers picked up on this. So, this egregious error will be our little secret. Besides, doesn’t this make me a tiny, tiny, little bit like Chaucer?