David Wallace. Chaucerian Polity: Absolutist Lineages and Associational Forms in England and Italy.
Cox, Catherine S.
David Wallace. Chaucerian Polity: Absolutist Lineages and
Associational Forms in England and Italy. Stanford: UP, 1997. Pp. xix +
555.
In this engaging and substantial study, Wallace sets out to explore
various Italian and English cultural events and their impact upon
contemporary literary figures, most significantly Chaucer and the great
Italian Trecento authors. Bringing considerable erudition to his
analyses of literary works, Wallace situates the literary texts in
relation to the interlinked sites of "medieval" London and
"Renaissance" Florence, testing the validity of such
terminology and suggesting that literary critics should instead
"suspend belief in cultural partitions" (7). Wallace's
core argument is that Chaucer understood the works of Dante, Boccaccio,
Petrarch, and others within contexts of political conflict and
ideological warfare, most significantly that of Florence, whose
committee rule was an associational form, and Lombardy, whose Visconti
leadership constituted an absolutist lineage. The literary argument that
Wallace makes about Chaucer is thus twofold: Chaucer can be profitably
read in relation to his Italian predecessors, and, in turn, the study of
Chaucer can provide significant resources and points of departure for
the exploration of his predecessors in light of the political contexts
of England and Italy.
The first three chapters take up the concern of associational forms
(that is, the collective bodies through which individuals experienced
themselves as political subjects, for example, parties, guilds,
fraternities, households), situated in relation to Chaucer's
Florentine and Lombard visits of 1373 and 1378, respectively. Rejecting
the simplistic, and widespread, belief that Chaucer's reaction to
Italy was that of a bedazzled tourist, Wallace finds instead that
Chaucer's appreciation for Italian culture was that of a seasoned
diplomat; his visits to Florence and Lombardy exposed him not only to
the most crucial conflict of the Italian Trecento, between republican
libertas and dynastic despotism, but also to the literary authors
exemplifying the cities and their forms of polity. Visits to Florence,
and then to Milan and Pavia, exposed Chaucer to the writings of
Boccaccio and Petrarch in conjunction with other forms of cultural
production both popular and devotional. Chaucer, Wallace argues,
encountered the Italian texts within the context of this
Florentine-Lombard struggle, and hence his own understanding and
appreciation of the texts themselves were informed by the political
situations that helped shape them.
After situating Chaucer within these Italian political contexts,
Wallace considers the significance of Chaucer's Italian encounters
to his literary enterprise, with particular emphasis upon the compagnye
of the General Prologue to the Canterbury Tales. Beginning with an
exposition on the associational forms of compagnye (or felaweshipe),
Wallace argues that the General Prologue provides the first instance of
Chaucer's authorial signature, the "sixth of six"
topos--"Ther was also a REVE, and a MILLERE, / A SOMNOUR, and a
PARDONER also, / A MAUNCIPLE, and myself--ther were namo"
(1.542-44)--and that this signature is articulated with both artistic
confidence and personal anxiety about the complex division of labor in
English society. Guild culture and female slavery in Florence had
already shown Chaucer how women, "commodified as voiceless figures
within a new symbolic order" (19), posed the threat of coming to
recognize their own symbolic significance, which in turn prompted
misogynistic complaints from Boccaccio, Wallace finds. Chaucer was thus
compelled to assess gender in relation to speech and power in his own
work, drawing off Boccaccio's literary expressions of gender
politics. Wallace asserts that English guilds help account for some of
the more salient differences between Chaucer's compagnye and
Boccaccio's brigata, in particular their respective attitudes
toward collective behavior. For while the two framed collections,
Canterbury Tales and Decameron, share an apparent commitment to the
exploration of associational forms, Chaucer favors the more inclusive
social groupings illustrated in the General Prologue than the young
aristocrats and social hierarchy of Boccaccio's Decameron.
Several chapters continue with analyses of the Canterbury Tales and
its compagnye. Since Chaucer includes various subgroups as well as
unassimilable individuals, Wallace, making clear that it should not be
construed as an idealized associational form, explores the extent to
which associational polity is refigured and foregrounded in specific
tales. In the Knight's Tale, Chaucer stages an act of political
rupture: the unraveling of associational forms under Thesian polity.
Characterized by Theseus's resistance to political felaweshipe
coupled with the absence of wifely counsel, the Knight's Tale
demonstrates how the presence or absence of wifely counsel and
women's eloquence is connected to larger issues of power and rule.
Chaucer's cutting of Boccaccio's Teseida, too, emphasizes the
significance of Thesian polity, for while Chaucer retained most of the
business and political issues, he rejected many of the Teseida's
concerns with social and sexual relationships. Wallace maintains that
gender politics in the Canterbury Tales, a recurring concern for both
him and Chaucer, can help us explore aspects of statecraft that are
problematic or contradictory, especially if gender theory is employed as
a means of approaching medieval people as political subjects.
Wallace then travels informally along a trajectory that moves from
associational to absolutist forms. The economic and social powers of the
countryside are acknowledged in the Miller's Tale, as John leaves
Oxford for Oseney and Nicholas is punished with an instrument of the
countryside, the "kultour." The Reeve's Tale exhibits a
more violent opposition between city and countryside (resolving its
conflicts in the workplace and bedroom), which Wallace compares to the
Decameron's "most graphic and egregious example of the city
screwing the countryside" (134), that of Pietro and Ganni told at
the end of the Ninth Day. From there Wallace considers the linguistic
details of the Friar's and Summoner's Tales, especially in
relation to Dante's Guido of Inferno 27 and to what Wallace
characterizes as the deficient language of the religious institutions
that they expose. An extensive discussion of the London of
Chaucer's Cook frames an analysis of drynkyng and its attendant
issues of social integration and individual rebellion, including the
confrontation with the Manciple, whose Tale is critiqued in connection
with Dante's and Boccaccio's source texts. From there Wallace
offers a consideration of the interconnected activities of merchants and
lawyers in relation to the Man of Law and his Tale. He notes that
Chaucer's second Canterbury Tales authorial signature is
articulated, in the Man of Law's Introduction, so as to associate
vernacular authorship with the texts and procedures of law, an
association Wallace develops in conjunction with the Melibee and the
Griselda stories of Boccaccio and Chaucer. An exploration of the
household rhetoric of violence in the Melibee story offers a brilliant
and perspicacious look at the narrative location of a violent man's
physical presence (compared to the similar situation of the
Manciple's Tale). Wallace notes that the Melibee story's
original author, Albertano, was a Lombard and that for Chaucer Lombardy
represents a "spatial metaphor for the tyrannical cast of
mind" (213), as exemplified in the Clerk's Tale, the
Merchant's Tale, and the Legend of Good Women.
The last two formal chapters take up the argument that Boccaccio
and Petrarch, advancing two distinct political agendas, represent two
types of humanism that correspond to, respectively, the Monk's Tale
(De casibus) and The Legend of Good Women. Here Wallace argues that the
Monk's Tale affirms the Boccaccian paradigm, and that the Monk
therefore disappoints owing to the repetitive and unstimulating nature
of his solitary sequence and the personal boredom it reflects, arguably
like that of Boccaccio's own state of literary acedia. The Legend
follows instead the Italian humanists' paradigm of classical lives.
While inspired by Boccaccio's De mulieribus claris, Chaucer's
Legend significantly includes a woman, Alceste, in the business of
public life and, as such, prompts comparisons with a Petrarchan model,
De laudibus feminarum. This short treatise dedicated to the empress Anne
of Bohemia, Wallace argues, precipitates the rewriting of the F Prologue
into the G version, which follows the precedent of Petrarchan humanism
and rejects the vernacular poetics of Dante and Boccaccio. The
book's formal chapters conclude with a reiteration of
Wallace's "sixth of six" thesis apropos of the Wife of
Bath's quest for husband number six, which, Wallace asserts, is to
be satisfied by Chaucer himself--"Welcome the sixte, whan that
evere he shal" (3.45)--and with the assertion that
"Chaucer's dedication to wifely eloquence is a singular
historical phenomenon" (377) that Chaucer calls to our attention by
way of the "sixth of six" topos.
A brief concluding chapter offers further possibilities about the
intriguing relationship of Shakespeare's works to Chaucer's
and his Italian influences, which underscore both the magnitude of
Wallace's accomplishment as well as the further work to be pursued
along the lines that he has so effectively and innovatively opened up.
His analyses of literary texts in conjunction with cultural and
historical concerns are exemplary throughout, lucid and persuasive, and
substantial notes and documentation--over one hundred pages of reference
matter--attest to the scope and breadth of learning that informs the
discussion. Wallace's work informs, delights and provokes and
should appeal to scholars, teachers, and students of medieval and early
modern English and Italian literature and culture.
Catherine S. Cox, University of Pittsburgh at Johnstown