Yet simply to collapse poetic production with lived life would suggest that there is no distinction between the two. Chaucer’s normally unreliable early nineteenth‐century biographer, William Godwin, makes precisely this point about reading the Envoy: “It would be unjust, however, from his playfully expressing an aversion to marriage in the character of a satirist, to infer that he had not lived in perfect harmony and happiness with the mother of his children.”11 Nineteenth‐ and twentieth‐century critics were well aware of the distinction between a poetic persona and the person of the poet. Why, then, did they indulge in this treasure hunt for clues about Chaucer’s personal life? We might take a hint from the great early twentieth‐century critic George Lyman Kittredge. Referencing Chaucer’s comments about marriage in the Envoy, he says that “probably such utterances were no more seriously meant than the jests which are passed upon an intending bridegroom by his intimates at pre‐nuptial ‘stag dinners’ now‐a‐days.”12 Chaucer’s audience here is male and engages in a casual misogyny that might be in bad taste (as Kittredge also notes), but cannot be taken too seriously – certainly, it should not be read as autobiography.
Yet Kittredge, of course, is making biographical claims about Chaucer. He may dismiss the idea that Chaucer’s own marriage was troubled, but he presents a portrait of Chaucer as one who replicates misogynistic and misogamic (anti‐marital) commonplaces in the service of male comradeship. As any number of critics have noted, this is the way misogyny works: the discourse of anti‐feminism is often the rhetoric of the joke – “not meant to be taken seriously” even while it replicates misogynistic stereotypes. These stereotypes, then, are monolithic representations of all women that are, of course, fictional. Yet, as Chaucer himself often demonstrates, these fictions retain their power because people in some sense believe in them. On one level, we know that the Envoy to Bukton is a joke. And we also know that Harry Bailly’s complaint about his ironically named wife, Goodelief (Goodlove), is just a bit of funny “business” after a serious tale about a truly “good” wife. And yet, as we have seen, our lack of knowledge about the marriage has led critics (and poets) to assign historical value to claims about “Mrs. Chaucer” that are ultimately no more than conventions and stereotypes. Not incidentally, these readings have often been made by men, who have perpetuated stories about “the woes of marriage” perhaps to consolidate their own relationship with what has historically been a largely masculine audience.
Notes
1 1 John Masefield , Chaucer (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1931), 33.
2 2 J.W. Hales, Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1885–1900), 10:158.
3 3 F.J. Furnivall , Trial‐Forewords to my “Parallel‐Text Edition of Chaucer’s Minor Poems” (London: N. Trübner, 1871), 31.
4 4 And, in Hales’s case, the Envoy is identified in the manuscripts as “Lenvoy de Chaucer,” though what this actually means is a matter of interpretation.
5 5 Martin M. Crow and Clare C. Olson , eds., Chaucer Life‐Records (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1966), 68.
6 6 Marion Turner , Chaucer: A European Life (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2019), 125.
7 7 Derek Pearsall , The Life of Geoffrey Chaucer: A Critical Biography (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992), 142.
8 8 Crow and Olson, Chaucer Life‐Records, 545–6. For Gaunt’s patronage, see Turner, Chaucer: A European Life, 205.
9 9 Scott Lightsey, “Chaucer’s Return from Lombardy, the Shrine of St. Leonard at Hythe, and the ‘corseynt Leonard’ in the House of Fame, lines 112–18,” Chaucer Review 52 (2017), 188–201.
10 10 David Lawton , Voice in Later Medieval Literature: Public Interiorities (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016), 40.
11 11 William Godwin, Life of Geoffrey Chaucer: The Early English Poet, 4 vols., 2nd edn. (London: Printed by T. Davison for R. Phillips 1804), 2: 163.
12 12 George Lyman Kittredge , “Chaucer’s Envoy to Bukton ,” Modern Language Notes 24, no. 1 (January 1909), 14–15 , here 15.
Myth 5
CHAUCER’S SON THOMAS WAS JOHN OF GAUNT’S BASTARD
In the biography attached to Thomas Speght’s 1598 version of Chaucer’s works there appears this curious, almost throwaway line: “Yet some hold opinion (but I know not vpon what grounds) that Thomas Chaucer was not the sonne of Geffrey Chaucer, but rather some kinsman of his, whome hee brought up.”1 Speght almost immediately distances himself from this “opinion,” arguing that “this pedigree [the Stemma peculiare Gaufredi Chauceri that appears on the previous page] by the hands of Master Glouer alias Somerset, that learned Antiquarie, as also the report of Chronicles shew it to be otherwise.”2 If Speght was interested in offering reassurance about the parentage of Thomas Chaucer, however, his refutation of this discarded opinion had the opposite effect.
In the preface to his magisterial edition of Chaucer in 1775, Thomas Tyrwhitt lamented that we did not know the date of Chaucer’s marriage because if we did, “we should know better what to think of the relation of Thomas Chaucer to our author. Mr. Speght informs us ‘that some hold opinion that Thomas C. was not the sonne of Geffrey’ and there are certainly many circumstances that incline us to that opinion.”3 There is no further reference to Thomas Chaucer’s doubtful parentage until 1872, when F.J. Furnivall announced in the pages of Notes and Queries that “there is not one scrap of direct or indirect evidence that the wealthy Thomas Chaucer was the son, or any relative, of the poet.”4