Chaucer's Pardoner's Tale: Ethical / Sexual Contingency

The Pardoner's character in Chaucer's Pardoner's Tale inhabits a liminal space between medieval social hierarchies, gender norms, and metaphysical beliefs that problematizes any totalizing reading of the text. This space forces the reader to analyze the Pardoner's character for credibility, a task that compromises the moralistic nature of his narrative, but lays the responsibility for interpreting that narrative squarely on the reader's shoulders. Character and narrative become open texts that reflect the contingency of human ethics, morals, and sexuality that exists outside of the stable (and ideal) metaphysical and earthly hierarchical structures espoused by the teachings of the English Medieval world.

This liminal reading creates a distinction between Chaucer's "human" world of ethical frailty and contradiction and that of high ideals and purity. For Chaucer, the former world represents the summa of human existence: in the end, we muddle through as best we can, but certainly make a mess of ethical and moral problems on the way. In a sense applicable to today's modern world, our human failings will always get the better of our "high ideals," and expose the essential fluidity of those things and ideas that tenuously hold our communities together.

In a medieval world filled with dichotomous structures like good/evil, man/woman, right/wrong, the Pardoner seeks to deconstruct such normative structures in favor of the fluidity granted by his "not-man"1 gender role. As Chaucer says, "I trowe he were a geldyng or a mare," and "no berd hadde he"2 At the same time, the Pardoner has a high voice, and is dressed in the height of fashion, like a dandy. These indications separate the Pardoner from full status as a male, but do not make him female. Instead, the Pardoner inhabits a role outside of strict dichotomy, marking him as a transactional vehicle able to move between his role as charismatic preacher and confessional sinner. Dinshaw goes so far as to claim that he is "a eunuch...a figurative one if not a literal one as well."3 This may be the case, but the Pardoner also gains ethical and moral agency as recompense for that lack.

In existing outside of typical gender roles, Chaucer marks the Pardoner as being different from the other pilgrims of the Tales while at the same time constraining his social standing amongst them. As such a person, the Pardoner can be recognized as a queer figure that successfully inhabits and mocks the ideology of which he is a part, while at the same time being "constituted by ideology."4 His confessions and body make him "personally repugnant" to the other pilgrims, but they cannot ignore that he is "superb at his job."5 Wishing that he "hadde thy (The Pardoner's) coillons in myn hond / In stide of relikes or of seintuarie / Lat kutte hem off..." the host exposes his disgust for the Pardoner's corrupted, cwer, state of affairs.6 While constituting a reaction to the possibly sexualized "Unbokele anon thy purse," the host's brutal words for the Pardoner also expresses the general uneasiness felt by the rest of the group after the Pardoner has told his eerie tale. The host seems prepared to do the Pardoner some mischief, but hierarchy reasserts itself through the knight's authority, and the two must exchange the kiss of peace.

The reinsertion of the knight's authority at the end of the tale ascribes the limits of the Pardoner's un-gendered confession and his necessarily limited power. The Pardoner may be able to make his own way as a charismatic, corrupt, and effeminate preacher, but this particular performance bares his fluid identity. Instead of simply a man/preacher, the Pardoner becomes something far more disturbing to the other pilgrims, and perhaps even to Chaucer himself: a liminal body that recognizes the constructedness of the church's teachings and social hierarchies. The "traffic in indulgences" and propensity of "simple believers...too likely to believe such far-fetched stories (about relics)" makes it possible for the Pardoner to turn the medieval conceptions of these objects upside down. 7 In the Pardoner's topsy-turvy world, hierarchies and dogmas only serve to pad his pockets, and why not? These beliefs have the capacity to get the Pardoner into trouble with the very people he marks, and almost cause a violent end to the entire endeavor of storytelling in the Tales. The Pardoner's gender signs this attitude with its contingency and indeterminism, but the reactions of the host and knight "emphasize that performativity is not something a subject does, but a process through which the subject is constituted (author's emphasis)."8 The Pardoner cannot simply undo gender. Instead, the very nature of his liminality represents a kind of oppression, which arguably presents a reason for his off-putting confession to the group. In the context of the host's game, where hierarchy has already been subverted and reassigned, an artificially created "safe-zone"spurs the Pardoner's confessional forth, only to be rebuffed by the continuity of his normal social constraints.

Apart from the Pardoner's problematic gender and associated attitudes, he apparently sees no ethical problem in preaching with one hand and sinning with the other. In this regard he "would not be as evil if he believed, however misguidedly, in the relics he (is) hawking."9 However, he does not believe in the sanctity of any of the "things" he uses to con his marks.10 In fact, he seems willing enough to sacrifice his own well-being and soul for the benefit of his flock, however much a sham his relics may be, saying that "thus kan I preche agayn that same vice / which that I use, and that is avarice / but though I myself be gilty in that synne, / Yet kan I maken other folk to twynne / from avarice and soore to repente."11 His reasoning sacrifices his moral credibility, and also places his non-gendered status at the same level as his ethical culpability. Both the Pardoner's ethics and gender become contingent representations that sign each other's narrative existence. In this way, Chaucer asks what the reader ought to do with this strange personage, and begs the question as to whether the Pardoner could be justified in his compartmentalization of ethical and moral activity.

If the Pardoner insists on discarding gender normativity with his effeminate features, dandyish clothing, and sly sexual punning, he also discards hierarchical ethical structures in exchange for fluid models of each. In the medieval world of Chaucer's day, where right and wrong have been closely circumscribed by a dubiously moral church (of which the Pardoner is a representative, such is Chaucer's faith in the church) this ethical fluidity colors every portion of his character and narrative.

In terms of ethics, The Pardoner comes closest to Richard Rorty and Geoffrey Harpham's theories on ethical contingency and Dinshaw's "eunuch hermeneutics." In Dinshaw's eyes, this "eunuch hermeneutics proceeds by double affirmations, double truths, the incompatible positions of recognition and disavowal, knowledge and belief," which amounts to much the same thing as ethical contingency, but shifts the focus of our interrogation from the Pardoner to ourselves. Dinshaw not only allows for the Pardoner's character to be indeterminant, but for a reading that sees his mixture of moral/amoral acts in ourselves and the world around us.12The Pardoner's Tale, framed in such a problematic character and indeterminate narrative, seeks to problematize the reader's ideas of ethics, and to bring us from the archly romantic realm of The Knight's Tale to the dingier moral tones of the real world, where doing the right thing does not always seem as clear as the church might have us believe. The result of this interrogation highlights the impossibility of ethical choice in a world where every "'ethical' decision violates some law or other, and violates it precisely because it is 'ethical.'" 13 For Rorty, ethics involves the open contemplation of ethical choices that brings to bear a conception of human solidarity through an open acknowledgment of human suffering.

Unexpectedly, the Pardoner does grasp vaguely at Rorty's solidarity through suffering, however twisted his reasoning may seem to be. As observed above, he does not see that his false pardons and relics necessarily preempt the salvation of those to whom he preaches. From this perspective, the Pardoner literally sacrifices his immortal soul for the good of his flock, and his sins show up in an altruistic light. Additionally, the Pardoner never apologizes for the fact that he "will not do labour with myne handes....I wol noon of the apostles countrefete," apparently reading no hypocrisy into his own situation.14 Chaucer's presentation of two irreconcilable opposites leaves the Pardoner ethically indeterminant. After all, does one believe that the Pardoner can be entirely evil and perform salvationary acts (however self-profiting) for the good of others, or does one discard his powerful tale wholesale because it comes from such a sinner? With this question, Chaucer complicates the apprehension of ethical and moral "truth" as an objective goal.

The tale itself begins with "riotoures" sitting in a tavern and drinking, immediately touching upon the condition of the pilgrims and Pardoner himself, forcing them and the reader to examine the frame of their moral actions. The Pardoner's "corny ale" aside, he firmly places all of his listeners and reader within the "devil's temple" where they do not practice "mesure, or moderation...instead they practice 'abominable superfluity.'" With this powerful opening, the common drinkers become complicit in the acts which supposedly come from drink such as well, such as: "lechery, violence, and wretchedness."15 In this way, the Pardoner builds sinful solidarity with his listeners, inspiring them to listen via their common guilt.

As he returns to his tale from his lengthy speech on various sins (all of which he claims to commit in the Prologue), the Pardoner has his three young characters commit to slaying "Deeth," an admittedly ridiculous goal though noble, and one that solidifies another type of human solidarity. The slaying of "Deeth" only becomes an issue because the barkeep tells the miscreants that "he was an old felawe of yours / And soydenly he was yslayn to-night."16 The trio, joined in sin with the readers and pilgrims already, feel a sense of comradeship with their friend, and their quest for vengeance becomes symbolic of the common futility and chaos of life in the face of an inescapable plague that "has slain a thousand this pestilence." 17 While for Rorty, the commonality between all people becomes human suffering, Chaucer's narrative solidarity inhabits more complex terms that cannot exclude metaphysics. Humans do not only suffer together, they also sin together and face the uncertainties of what Iris Murdoch calls "Death and Chance."18

Solidarity being further established, the three go off to seek death in the town in which he was last seen, but instead are stopped by a strange old man whose being Chaucer (and the Pardoner) envelop in mystery and indeterminacy. He is "al forwrapped save [his] face," and claims to have searched the world for a young gentleman to take his age upon him so that he may lie in the ground and rest from wandering like "a restelees kaityf."19 In this figure, the Pardoner forces readers and pilgrims alike to attempt an understanding of what the old man is, and therefore he becomes the destination of all meaning in the tale. The moral and ethical nature of the plot hang upon the ability of the reader to identify the old man as an element of "Death and Chance," be it the devil, a personification of death, or a demonic influence. Because of this mysterious nature and lack of information, readers map their own deepest fears upon the old man. This old man points the way to death and temptation, treachery and betrayal, avarice and lust, yet at the same time he provides the blessings of God upon the three men.

To some extent, the contingency of the old man's personage can be read at face value, but the implication arises that the old man represents a part of ourselves, a matter which deepens his contingency. No reader can ever really know this old man except as an archetypal nightmare figure upon which fear of the unknown can be mapped. Yet at the same time, the "'olde man' embod[ies] mutually incompatible assertions- along with a knowledge of this implacable 'Deeth' - a belief in redemption 'even so.'"20 Chaucer refuses to provide easy explanations for his pointing the three towards the old powerful "ook" where he had so recently "lafte" death.21 However, in thinking of whether the old man represents Fortuna, Death, God, or Devil, the reader recognizes a part of themselves in this grave and creepy figure. In essence, the inevitability of our "rioters" facing their demise becomes the certainty of our own self-annihilation. In effect, the old man and rioters are one and the same, presenting the inevitable futility and destruction brought on by the darker portions of the self. The nobility of a quest to destroy death becomes muted, not by "Death and Chance" but by the fact that "Good is mysterious because of human frailty."22 With this idea in mind, the contingency and multiplicity of voices contained within one self become infinitely expanded.

Instead of the singular and distinct characters of the Pardoner's narrative, all of the characters can be hermeneutically contained within one self. Like the Pardoner himself who has an "instability at the heart of [his] sex and body," the narrative exposes the instability of all selfhood. 23 The three young men fight hard against the constraints, the hierarchies of metaphysical life, only to be trapped by their own worst ethical and moral features. After all, as discussed in the context of the Pardoner's strangely eunuch-like gender role, the members of the narrative have the agency to fight against the hierarchies of the universe and against God, can even decide to kill death, but in the end necessarily succumb to the futility of such a battle. Our ethical and moral lives may be contingent in Chaucer's eyes, may even be frighteningly messy in comparison to the teachings of the church, but in the end we are our own worst enemy in the battle for goodness.

The Pardoner mirrors his tale and complements it, and the reprisal of the host does not only contain a reaction to the offense of the Pardoner's churlish offer of indulgences after the fact of his confession, but also strikes out against the implications of the tale for the rest of the party. If the self can be so unstable, our ability to perform noble actions so fruitless, then no wonder that the Pardoner does not earn the good graces of his companions. Like the medieval conception that "Words are physically fragments, one giving way to another in the construction of a whole message," people represent irreconcilable fragments that nevertheless reside within one "message."24 Thus frame within frame, the Pardoner constructs a tale that dissects and unifies the self, presents the distinct possibility of universal futility with the admonition to do good things, performs gendered agency while carrying the manacles of social disapproval, and most importantly figures an indeterminate ethic with one hand while reifying the church's norms with the other.

What once could be construed as a simple morality tale breaks apart and reforms an ethical framework that defies strict interpretation and "truth." The Pardoner's self and narrative grant an opportunity to relish the multiple (and occasionally dark) voices that inhabit the psyche, which make the performance of goodness difficult, and which force an interrogation of the assumptions and judgments with which we approach the old man, the three rioters, the Pardoner, and ourselves. Chaucer seems to ask: under what conditions is good, good, and is it even attainable? From whence do we take our truth, and why, and how? To these questions, the Pardoner answers that there can be as many answers as people, but that in determining those answers we know better the constructedness of our own selfhood.

Sources:

1
Dinshaw, Carolyn. Chaucer's
Sexual Poetics. Madison: University of
Wisconsin Press, 1989. (158)

2
Benson, Larry D. ed. The Riverside Chaucer. Boston: Houghton
Mifflin, 1987. (34)

3Dinshaw,
158.

4Jagose,
Annamarie. Queer Theory: An Introduction.
New York: New York University Press, 1996. (77)

5Lambdin,
Laura C. and Robert T. Lambdin, ed. Chaucer's
Pilgrims. Westport, CT: Praeger

Publishers,
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6Benson,
202.

7Hallisy,
Margaret. A Companion to Chaucer's
Canterbury Tales. Westport, CT: Greenwood

Press,
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8Jagose,
86.

9Hallissy,
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10Brown,
Bill. Critical Inquiry.
Vol.28, No. 1: "Things." Autumn 2001.

11Benson,
195.

12Dinshaw,
159.

13
Harpham, Geoffrey et al., Critical Terms for Literary Study,
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995) 396.

14Benson,.
196.

15Lambdin,
318.

16Benson,
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17Hallisy,
218.

18Murdoch,
Iris, The Sovereignty of Good. New York: Routledge, 1971.(
76-101)

19Benson,
199.

20Dinshaw,
177.

21Benson,
200.

22Murdoch,
97.

23Jagose,
89.

24Dinshaw,
172.