Thanks to a cheap-ass bus deal by National Express, husband and I abandoned the mania of London to 
make pilgrimage to Canterbury this Saturday past. It is beautiful. And true to the nature of most English towns, the High Street reflects an invasion of chain stores on the prevailing historic architecture, which dates back to prehistoric times. We hung out at Canterbury Cathedral – St Augustine’s pad back in 602 AD. It is one of the oldest Christian structures in the country – a true marvel. The ruins of St Augustine’s Abbey are nostalgically tranquil, although my ‘zenness’ was rudely interrupted by a sudden hysterical rant that I could not help but launch against that wanker Henry VIII for initiating the dissolution of all monasteries in a rampage against Catholicism…wanker! Canterbury boasts the dominance of the mighty Roman Empire, which is manifested in an old fortification wall surrounding the city. The Norman ruins of Canterbury Castle bear testament to the remnants of an ancient civilization, which inconveniently imposes its stature on a modern youth, which, in retaliation, marks its territory and establishes its authority with ink and spray paint. As we ambled around the town, pausing in the intermittent gardens to soak in some rays, we eventually settled at Cafe Rouge, a fabulous French restaurant just off the High Street. We sat for a good couple of hours, sharing a bottle of French wine (naturally) and some Camembert. Absorbed in a world of our own, we chatted about life love and everything else. At the end of a perfect day, we were we were confronted with the violent contradiction that encapsulates the spirit of England: amidst the history and ghostly echoes of a by-gone era, a horny, drunken teen bellowed at couple of chavs walking by: “I can see your fanny darlin’. And it looks sweet.” A great subject for a bawdy Chaucerian tale.
This may sound like a tourist plug for Canterbury – it isn’t, but there’s no harm in killing two birds with one stone. Being a literary enthusiast, part of my pilgrimage included me dragging husband on a forty-minute Canterbury Tales excursion. The adventure, which was fabulously cheesy and fabulously entertaining, sends participants on a pretend pilgrimage to the pretend shrine of a pretend Saint Thomas Becket. Along the journey the pilgrims listen to a voice that recounts some of Chaucer’s most popular tales (The Knight’s Tale, The Miller’s Tale, The Wife of Bath’s Tale, The Nun’s Priest’s Tale and the The Pardoner’s Tale), which are enacted by some expertly un-state-of-the-art devices. I loved it! I am a big fan of the oral story telling tradition, especially when there are accompanying animations.
Geoffrey Chaucer, often referred to as the father of English Literature, has a great deal in common with a chap called Aesop. Through the use of irony and satire, Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, provide an astute commentary on, and insight into the medieval society that birthed the famous writer. Buried in the humour and antics of the characters is often a lesson or a moral. The Canterbury Tales is a collection of stories told by a group of thirty people, from all walks of life, who are traveling, as pilgrims, to Canterbury to visit the shrine of Saint Thomas Becket. The stories are told to pass the time on their pilgrimage. The pilgrim who tells the best story, as determined by the host, will have his supper paid for by the rest of the group. Chaucer completed 22 of the intended 124 tales, and so no winner is declared. Chaucer drew on the age-old tradition of storytelling, which was “the main entertainment in England at the time, and storytelling contests had been around for hundreds of years”. Chaucer’s tales entertain, educate, reflect and provide commentary on a society characterised by political and social unrest: “The Catholic Church was in the midst of the Great Schism and, though it was still the only Christian authority in Europe, was the subject of heavy controversy. Political clashes, such as the 1381 Peasant’s Revolt and clashes ending in the deposition of King Richard II”. Many of Chaucer’s close friends were executed and he himself was forced to move to Kent in order to get away from events in London.
Chaucer drew on the fairy tale tradition and the oral folktales from which they are derived. Folktales, passed down from generation to generation, were a way of instilling a sense of identity within the listeners. The telling and enactment of tales preserved a sense of culture and community through the life lessons and morals thus imparted. Over the years, these tales have endured many rewrites, from Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm to Roald Dahl and Angela Carter. Each rewrite reflects the social dynamic of the time, particularly with regard to gender relations. The tales of Perrault and the Brothers Grimm reflect a society in which women were the subservient gender. Their tales sought to educate listeners and readers of the consequences ensuing from inappropriate behaviour or immoral conduct. It was a method of control and discipline. Dahl draws on the tradition of the fairy tale to represent a modern society characterised by female dominance, and interestingly, Carter refers back to the oral tale to depict man and woman in an relationship of equity.
The Oral storytelling tradition has always been a symbol of community and unity – it is a deeply social activity and demands individuals to engage and interact. Western culture has abandoned this tradition in favour of the cyber-relationships that form part of gaming, social-networking, email and even texting. There is no longer the need to engage on a person to person level. Ironically globalisation has brought people closer together in many ways and yet communication through body language, facial expression and tone of voice are superseded by cyber-language and text-lingo. It makes me cringe. The sense of Ubuntu (an ancient African word, meaning ‘humanity to others’, which emphasises the idea that ‘I am what I am because of who we all are’) that is embraced by many non-western communities, is beautiful. It denotes sharing, respect and friendship. It took a hand-held recorded voice to reminded me that life is about relationship – interacting and engaging with real people in real life. Not the electronic kind. I dig facebook as much as the next person…probably more. But it’s not really real is it? My visit to Canterbury was thus, in many ways, a true pilgrimage.
Great site and thanx for the post