"Curious fact": Fading of Northernisms in The Reeve's Tale

研究論文１ “Curious fact”: Fading of Northernisms in The Reeve’s Tale Hiroki Okamoto 1. The Northern Dialect in The Reeve’s Tale Geoffrey Chaucer’s Reeve’s Tale occupies a unique position in The Canterbury Tales: it is the first known use of a dialect in the history of English literature. Since J. R. R. Tolkien’s classic study, “Chaucer as a Philologist”, critics have been discussing the reason for the use of the dialect in the speech of Cambridge students from the North of England, Aleyn and John.1 It is true that Chaucer might have been influenced by French fabliaux, which frequently adopt what he calls “cherles termes” (I 3917), to exploit a variety of crude and scurrilous languages. In one way, conventional fabliaux have a liking for wordplay and double meaning, and some episodes “turn on words rather than on actions” (Muscatine 167). They have “sophisticated linguistic play”, which John Hines refers to as “marked” language—a language with “colloquial and familiar terms for parts of the body or basic bodily acts” (17-18). This stylistic difference in the genre might have motivated Chaucer to use a different mode of speech.2 Serving as a mark of the clerks’ boorishness or provincial ineptitude, most critics agree that Chaucer intended the use of northern dialect for laughter: the clerks speak with such bizarre accents that they appear to be sort of “country bumpkins” or “rustic buffoon”. Their dialect plays an important role in the fabliau as it not only places the northern characters in a comic light, but also dramatising the final devastation of the pompous miller Symkin. There is, however, little attempt to use specific dialects in all the analogues of The Reeve’s Tale, and source studies do not account for the choice of northern dialect. Tolkien argues the clerks’ use of the northern dialect is primarily a “linguistic joke” and presents three implications of the dialect (2). These are a heightening “dramatic realism”, “by-product of a private philological curiosity”, and a way of gratifying “popular linguistic prejudices” (2-3). Above all, he admires Chaucer’s remarkable accuracy in reproducing the northern dialect in a way that demonstrates his “private” philological interest in language itself. However, recent critics are Beidler includes four versions of the possible sources for The Reeve’s Tale: the two texts of the French Le meunier et les .II. clers, the Flemish Een bispel van .ij. clerken, and the sixth tale of the ninth day of Boccaccio’s Italian Decameron. Chaucer’s sources are categorised as the type of tale known as a “cradletrick story”, in which the wife gets into the wrong bed because the cradle has been moved to another place. See Beidler 23-26. 2 Blake also notes that French fabliau customarily adds some linguistic twists as a source of laughter (29). 1 $3 skeptical about Chaucer’s philological perfectionism.3 Tolkien’s assumption has been partially revised by the deepening of editorial and textual studies of The Canterbury Tales. In their text of The Canterbury Tales (1940), John M. Manly and Edith Rickert reveal that the Ellesmere manuscript (El), a base text for Tolkien, had in fact undergone editorial revisions, and conclude the Hengwrt manuscript (Hg) is closer to the original.4 In addition, the scribe was empowered with more positive discrepancies than previously thought. For Tolkien, the remarkable accuracy of the northern dialect demonstrates Chaucer’s own linguistic expertise, while critics like Norman F. Blake place more emphasis on the deliberate colouring of northernisms during the course of textual transmission, evaluating attempts by some copyists to detect and improve the original (32-33). For example, the Paris manuscript (Ps), thought to have been written around 1430 by a North Midland scribe, Johannes Duxworth, displays a propensity to exert a northern influence not only on the students’ speech but also throughout the tale, irrespective of who is speaking. Martin Michael Crow points out the manuscript contains northern dialectal markers in both the clerks’ speech and elsewhere in The Reeve’s Tale, so that “the dialectal passages in Ps do not stand out sharply” (24). Blake values the manuscript, but does not want to argue the scribe is more skilful than the poet because Chaucer might have deliberately restrained the dialectal variations despite his great acquaintance with them. Therefore, he concludes that Chaucer intended to sprinkle “only a general flavour of a northern dialect so that his audience would readily understand what he included” (33). One of the leading critics of The Reeve’s Tale, Simon Horobin, concludes in accordance with Blake that “it seems more likely that Chaucer was concerned with imposing a flavour of the Northern dialect on the students’ speech rather than achieving absolute philological accuracy or consistency” (“J. R. R. Tolkien as a Philologist” 104). In addition to the philological and literary perspective, more critical attention has recently focused on Chaucer’s cultural and social orientation toward the North. The implication of dialect moves beyond linguistic effects and some recent critics explore the cultural and ideological dimension of dialectology that Chaucer, consciously or not, might have intended. Robert Epstein suggests that Chaucer shares an ideology close to what Edward Said defines as an “Orientalist” project (in which philology plays an integral part) and unwittingly participates in the discourse of privileging author’s cultural centrality (114). For Joseph Taylor, the North is like the space Freud calls “uncanny”, which looms as “a grave threat to Chaucer’s national imagination” (474). Although common representations of 3 As the title “Chaucer as a Philologist” implies, Tolkien makes a thorough investigation of Chaucer’s philological ingenuity in a laudatory manner as if to project his ideal image of philologist onto this great fourteenth-century poet. He admits the use of southernisms are exceptionally found in the clerks’ speech, but the instance is so small and mainly due to rhyme and metre that “even a philological examiner would award Chaucer a fairly high mark for his effort” (16). “Chaucer as a Philologist” was initially a lecture delivered to the Philological Society of Oxford. Tolkien’s bestowal of the epithet “philologist” on Chaucer should be seen within a context of the literature and language feud at the Oxford English department. See Fitzgerald. 4 This change of emphasis after Tolkien’s publication is neatly summarised by Horobin (2001). $4 Northern strangeness/otherness may be domesticated into part of a broader community, the region in The Reeve’s Tale nevertheless remains as “the still disembodied state of the English nation” (488). These interpretations are important in the way in which the tale brings to light, intentionally or unintentionally, the political underpinnings that legitimate Chaucer’s subject position, or, a superior image of the South as opposed to the North. Yet, such readings tend to depart from the text and are not always attested to by the plot. For example, from another perspective, Wendy Scase presents the possibility that the clerks’ vernacular simplicity of speech works as part of their “theatricals”, or pragmatic performance to pretend that “they are not from the area, and therefore cannot yet know of Symkyn’s reputation for dishonesty” (333). For Scase, the significance of the northernisms provokes humour and represents “the complex social dimensions of the conflict in which the clerks and the miller are engaged” (333). While she hypothesises that an exaggerated expression of dialect serves as a deliberate cloak for the students in fulfilling their scheme to outwit Symkyn, the exchange in their initial contact in the story denies such potential attempt: . . . “Al hayl, Symond, y-fayth! Hou fares thy faire doghter and thy wyf?” “Aleyn, welcome”, quod Symkyn, “by my lyf! And John also, how now, what do ye heer?” (I 4022-25)5 Here, it is evident that they have known each other previously. Their greeting on Christian-name terms as well as the genitive singular of the second-person “thy” conveys their familiarity, while the way the students ask of Symkyn’s daughter and wife even sounds as if they had some affection for them. From the moment when Aleyn greets Simkyn “Al hayl”, they speak in an unpretentious manner in order to conceal from the miller their true purpose. However, Symkyn’s reply deserves attention as it also shows the way he receives the guests, despite their unexpected visit: This millere smyled of hir nycetee, And thoghte, “Al this nys doon but for a wyle. They wene that no man may hem bigyle, But by my thrift, yet shal I blere hir ye, For al the sleighte in hir philosophye. (I 4046-50) He immediately sees through their intention “for a wyle” and tries to compete with them for “the sleighte in hir philosophye”. There is no need for Symkyn to care about their northernism. He just chuckles to himself, assured of outwitting them— All references to Chaucer’s work are from Larry D. Benson ed., The Riverside Chaucer, referenced by fragment and line numbers. 5 $5 not from the way they speak—but because of their simple-mindedness.6 Symkyn is less concerned with their speech than their clerkly education and intelligence, and their dialect is not the butt of his taunt and ridicule. The well-quoted passage from Towneley’s Second Shepherd’s Play (c. 1430) demonstrates a contrast regarding this situation. In the play, Mak, a sheep-stealer, puts on airs like the retinue of the king, and speaks with a prominent southern accent, starting with “What! ich be a yoman” (201).7 In response to this, the First Shepard demands, “Now take out that Sothren to the, / And sett in a torde!” (215). This chiding of Mak’s affection is clearly a jibe against his southern pretension.8 The speaker is aware of the regional difference and its implication, and despises this manner of speech. As represented by the first conversation between Symkyn and the students, the characters in The Reeve’s Tale hardly have contempt for the clerks’ northernisms, nor the rusticity purportedly associated with it. Rather, the scene of their encounter epitomises the rejection of dialectal potency as initiating and amplifying a “sophisticated linguistic play” inherent in conventional fabliaux. Indeed, Chaucer might be playing on the potential amusement by giving his characters northern accents, but such a linguistic effect is never actualised in the surface of storyline. 2. “Curious fact”: Fading of Northernisms While the northern dialect sounds quite different perhaps to the southern audience (like the Parson) as well as modern critics, it does not resonate a difference with the characters in the tale. Then, what is the role of the dialect featured in The Reeve’s Tale? What does Chaucer want to convey by the use of dialect while missing the opportunity to develop “sophisticated linguistic play”? Certainly, for Chaucer, the northern dialect is by no means a roughhewn travesty of a local language, because, as Tolkien admits, it is a “genuine thing” (3): the use of the northern dialect is not based on superficial knowledge nor halfhearted motives. Close attention to the distribution of the northern dialect in the poem provides a more positive interpretation of Chaucer’s frame of reference for the dialect. Throughout the scholarship of The Reeve’s Tale, few critics have discussed the way northernism in fact fades toward the end of the tale. Tolkien first takes note of this as a “curious fact”, briefly explaining as follows: The irreducible southernisms are underlined―which rather exaggerates their importance; but it serves to mark the curious fact (emphasis added) that these certain southernisms and the possible ones (represented by the italics) are largely collected near the end. Chaucer himself probably allowed the linguistic joke to fade away as the knock-about business approached. Or he 6 See also Epstein 101-02. The passages are from Cawley’s edition. With regard to the use of southernism in the play, see Appendix IV, 131. He summarises that “the Wakefield dramatist was evidently determined that his southernisms should be southerly as possible in order to enhance their comic effect” (131). 8 For a more detailed analysis of the use of a southern dialect in the Second Shepherd’s Play, see Irace. 7 $6 may have got tired of it before it was quite finished, as he did of other things. (17) This comment, especially that Chaucer “may have got tired of it”, seems rather surprising in light of Tolkien’s scrutiny of the accuracy and consistency with which Chaucer presents his philological insight. Tolkien’s statement has hitherto escaped consideration, except, as far as I am aware, for brief notes in Jill Mann’s edition of The Canterbury Tales. Apparently following Tolkien’s remark, Mann notes that Aleyn’s use of dialect begins to dwindle “rather noticeably” (855). She attributes it to Chaucer’s lack of interest in perfect accuracy of Northern speech, since he is more concerned with the general impression that it gives (855). Concerning the use of a dialect, Helen Cooper also observes that “Chaucer is not totally consistent in their dialect, nor does he particularize it to any one area, but the effect recurs throughout their speech, though it is most marked at the start” (117). This curious cluster of southernisms is evidenced after line 4236, when Aleyn, after spending a night with Malyne, says goodbye to her: . . . “Fare weel, Malyne, sweete wight! The day is come; I may no lenger byde; But everemo, wher so I go or ryde, I is thyn awen clerk, swa have I seel!” ... Aleyn up rist, and thoughte, “Er that it dawe, I wol go crepen in by my felawe”, ... “By God”, thoughte he, “al wrang I have mysgon. Myn heed is toty of my swynk to-nyght, That makes me that I ga nat aright. I woot wel by the cradel I have mysgo; Heere lith the millere and his wyf also”. ... . . . “Thou john, thou swynes-heed, awak, For Cristes saule, and heer a noble game. For by that lord that called is Seint Jame, As I have thries in this shorte nyght Swyved the milleres doghter bolt upright, Whil thow hast, as a coward, been agast”. (I 4236-67) (emphasis added) There are 98 lines assigned to Aleyn and John, of which Aleyn’s final soliloquy accounts for 17. Until this scene, Aleyn kept using the northern accent, so that we expect that Aleyn would continue to speak likewise. Of course, it is not that the passage is fully rendered by southernisms, as one can easily find the occasional northernism as in “is” for “am” (I 4239); “swa” for “so” (I 4239); “wrang” for $7 “wrong” (I 4252); “makes” for “maketh” (I 4254); and “saule” for “soule” (I 4263). This could be a scattering of “northern flavour”, but the passage contains a much more “southern flavour”. As the highlighted passages show, the density of the previous northern features peters out in favour of a drastic increase in southernisms. The most notable concentration of southern features is the pronunciation of /o/ instead of /a/ as in “no”, “everemore”, “so”, “go”, “mysgon”, “woot”, and “also”. Tolkien points to 37 cases where Chaucer substitutes the northern /a/ for his usual southern /o/, and in this passage of 17 lines, there are at least 9 that should be a northern /a/.9 Regarding the total number, 9 cases out of 17 lines are highly concentrated in one section.10 The peculiar occurrence of southernism in this section additionally stands out when we examine this section in other manuscripts.11 Table 1 [The expected part of northernisms after line 4236] EL Hg Cp Ha4 Dd La Gg Ad3 no no no no no no no no evermore evere mo euermoo euermo euere mo euere more euer mo so so so so euere more so so so so go go go go go go go go is is am am is am is is awen awen oughne owen owen owen owene own swa so so so so so so so go go go go go go gon go wrang wrang wrang wr0ng wrang wrang wrong wrang mysgon mysgon mysgon goon mysgon mys gone mys go mysgon 9 Tolkien’s 37 phonological example of /a/ for /o/ are: “na/nan” (4026, 4027, 4134, 4175, 4176, 4183, 4185, 4187); “wange” (4030); “swa” (4030, 4040, 4239); “ham” (4032); “ga/gan/gas” (4037, 4078, 4101, 4254); “fra” (4039); “banes” (4073); “atanes” (4074); “aslwa” (4085); “waat” (4086); “raa” (4086); “bathe” (4087, 4112, 4191); “twa” (4129); “sang” (4170); “wha” (4173); “lange” (4175) “a” (4181); “sale/saule” (4187, 4263); “tald” (4207); “halde” (4208); “awen” (4239); “wrang” (4252). In The Riverside Chaucer, “gan” appears as “geen” (4078). 10 There are also other southern features, which includes the verbal inflection in “lith” (I 4256), which should have been “lis” (with “-s” or “-es” endings for the third-person singular of the present indicative verb). 11 The survey is from The Multitext Edition, eds. Stubbs, Estelle, Michael Pidd, Orietta Da Rold, Simon Horobin, Claire Thomson, and Linda Cross (2013). The Norman Blake Editions of The Canterbury Tales. University of Sheffield. Available at: <http://www.chaucermss.org/multitext> [Accessed 8 March 2015]. These are based on the following manuscripts: California, San Marino, Huntington Library MS. Ellesmere 26 C 9 (Ellesemere); Aberystwyth, National Library of Wales MS. Peniarth 392 D (Hengwrt); Oxford, Corpus Christi College MS. 198; London, British Library MS. Harley 7334; Cambridge University Library MS. Dd.4.24; London, British Library MS. Lansdowne 851; Cambridge University Library MS. Gg.4.2.7; London, British Library MS. Additional 35286. $8 maketh maketh makeþ makes makes makeþ makyth maketh go go go ga go go go go woot woot wot wot wat wote wot wot mysgo mysgo mysgo mys go mysgaa mys go mys go misgo lith lyth lith lith lyes liþe lyth lith also also also also alswa al so also also saule saule sawle sowle soule soule soule soule Overall, although each manuscript varies, the great proportion of expected northernisms is changed to southernisms as is seen in the colored table. This is a conspicuous tone-down of the northernisms that rather consistently occurs in almost all of the manuscripts. In addition, examination of the above-mentioned Paris manuscript (Ps) yields a striking result. As noted earlier, this scribe intensifies northern features throughout so that Crow concludes “the dialectal passages in Ps do not stand out sharply” (24). Nevertheless, his rendering of the passage in question shows a strong tendency to embellish the lines with southernisms: [and said] fare wel Malyn my sweet wight the day is comyn I may lenger byde but evyr more where so I go or ryde I am thyn owne clerk so have I seel ... [Aleyn upryseth ad thought] or yt were daw I will go crepe in my felaw ... be god [thought he] al wrong have I gon my hed is toty of my swynk to nyght that makys me that I go not aright I wot wel by the cradil that I have mysgo here liggith the mylner and his wife also ... [and said] thou Johan thou swyneshed awak for Crystes soule and here a noble game for by the lord that callid seynt Jame I have thryes in this short nyght swyvyd the mylner doughtir bolt up right while thou hast as a coward been agast12 (emphasis added) 12 The quotations are from Crow’s article. $9 Regarding the entire manuscript, Crow writes that the dialect of the northern clerks may “(1) be preserved as in the original, (2) be changed to Midland, (3) be made more Northern than in the original” (22). He notes that “Northern coloring in the students’ speech in Ps depends almost entirely upon the increased number of asounds for o-sounds (at least three times as many as in all the rest of the manuscript) and upon the half dozen Northern words not found elsewhere in Ps” (24). However, this is not the case with Aleyn’s final speech, exceptionally. The passage uses the “osound” instead of the “a-sound” exclusively, and it is more “southern” than any other part. Accordingly, a look at the Paris manuscript indicates that even a manuscript written in a northern style renders Allen’s final speech with many southernisms. Therefore the 17-line passage in question is consistently characterised by southernisms, so that the density of the previous northern features drastically disappears. 3. Contemporary Commentaries on the Linguistic Situation in Britain A look at the contemporary commentaries on the state of language in Britain offers an hint to understand the final declining use of northernisms. In some chronicle documents, the Northern speech has been often described as a kind of regional language that is difficult to understand. The salient feature of northern speech is not vocabulary, syntax, or grammar, but phonology, or, sound, which causes a communicative difficulty between people in the North and the South. This is attested, for example, in John Trevisa’s Middle English translation of Ranulf Higden’s early fourteenth-century Latin work Polychronicon. Trevisa famously or even notoriously describes the nature of the northern language as follows: “Al þe longage of þe Norþhumbres, and specialliche at ȝork, is so scharp, slitting, and frotynge and vnschape, þat we souþerne men may þat longage vnneþe vnderstonde. I trowe þat þat is bycause þat þey beeþ nyh to straunge men and naciouns þat spekeþ strongliche, and also bycause þat þe kynges of Engelond woneþ alwey fer from þat cuntrey”; (II. 163) The core of this linguistic note is extracted from Higden’s “stridet inconditum”, which dates back to William of Malmesbury’s description in his twelfth-century Gesta Pontificum Anglorum (c. 1125). Tim William Machan suggests that Higden and Trevisa only retain their faithfulness to their source as “rhetorical setpieces” (96). Nonetheless, it would be hard to deny Trevisa’s skilful expansion of original phrases and drastically, increasing adjectival referents regarding northern speech.13 The difficulty of the speech especially at York, he says, is marked by its idiosyncratic “sound” as “scharp, slitting, and frotynge, and vnschape”; that is, harsh-sounding, shrill, piercing, and strident speech—not clearly articulated. This causes Murphy also notes that Trevisa’s translation of the part is “a fairly enthusiastic rendering of ‘stridet incondite’” (71). 13 $10 modifications that strengthen the grating sound on the “southerner’s” ear (“we souþerne men”). Trevisa underscores this “strange” quality, attributing it to the proximity of “strange men and nation where people speak strangely”, as well as to geographical distance, royal absence, and agricultural, commercial, and economic differences. His emphatic observation on northern language reflects a southern perspective, and therefore a slightly prejudiced evaluation of the northern tongue. Trevisa attributes the different sound of English to historical change. He notes “Hit semeþ a greet wonder how Englische, [þat is þe burþe tonge of Englisshe] men and her owne language and tonge, is so dyuerse of sown in þis oon ilond” (II. 161). It is interesting that Trevisa refers to English as “the birth tongue” of the English. His emphasis on “native language” leads to linguistic changes that occur due to the multi-ethnic history of insular Britain: As it is i-knowe how meny manere peple beeþ in þis ilond, þere beeþ also so many dyuers longages and tonges; . . . Englische men, þey [þei] hadde from the bygynnynge þre manere speche, norþerne, sowþerne, and middel speche in þe myddel of þe lond, as þey come of þre manere peple of Germania, noþeles by comyxtioun and mellynge firste wiþ Danes and afterward wiþ Normans, in meny þe contray longage is apayred, and som vseþ straunge wlafferynge, chiterynge, harrynge, and garrynge grisbayting. (II. 157, 159) The diverse sound of English is caused by “comyxtioun and mellynge” with other nations, which is “a process of mixing or blending”. Although Englishmen originally had three manners of regional speech, an intermingling with the Danes and the Normans further corrupted (“apayred”) their native language. Hence some people end up speaking with a “straunge wlafferynge, chiterynge, harrynge, and garrynge grisbayting”; that is, a strange stammering, a harsh roaring or snarling sound in speech and a gnashing of teeth accompanied by a grinding or chattering.14 Furthermore, Trevisa shows the deeper insight into the possibility of a linguistic shift and accommodation into a different manner of speech: As it is i-knowe how meny manere peple beeþ in þis ilond, þere beeþ also so many dyuers longages and tonges; noþeles Walsche men and Scottes, þat beeþ nouȝt i-medled wiþ oþer naciouns, holdeþ wel nyh hir firste longage and speche; but ȝif the Scottes þat were somtyme confederat and wonede wiþ þe Pictes drawe somwhat after hir speche; but þe Flemmynges þat woneþ in þe weste side of Wales haueþ i-left her straunge speche and spekeþ Saxonliche i-now. (II. 157, 159) 14 See MED s. v. “wlaffinge” (stammering, stuttering); “chiteringe” (c) (jargon); “harringe” (a harsh roaring or snarling sound in speech); “garringe” (b) (of gnashing with the teeth: accompanied by clicking or chattering); “grisbating” (b) (grinding or chattering of the teeth; esp. such sounds as characteristic of harsh and uncouth speech). $11 He writes the Flanders who dwell in the west side of Wales is now able to speak “Saxonliche”, namely, as the Saxons speak. The adverbial ending “liche” deserves attention, which means they are not able to speak in exactly the same way as the Saxons do, but in a similar manner. Back to Chaucer, it is without doubt that he was aware of such changing state of the English language as Trevisa observes. Moreover, he has a heightened sensitivity and insight into the diversity of English, which is evident in the famous envoi in Troilus and Criseyde, “ther is so gret diversite / In Englissh” (V 1793-94). Obviously, Chaucer is not only lamenting such dialectal variations but also is trying to overcome a vernacular instability. This perspective is highly important to consider one aspect of Chaucer’s intention for the use of dialect in The Reeve’s Tale. It is possible to say that the linguistic shift from the northern to southern in it is not fortuitous; in a way, it represents a miniaturised version of the linguistic adaptation and transformation in the chronicle account: it should not be overlooked that Aleyn’s declining use of northernisms occurs in the wake of his “intercourse” with Malyne, Symkin’s daughter: he embodies his “personal” communication. A series of remarks are made at the break of dawn after he “had swonken al the longe nyght” (I 4235). This implies that he experienced what Trevisa calls “comyxtioun and mellynge”. In Trevisa’s context, the “comyxtioun and mellynge” leads to the adaption of a grating sound as “straunge wlafferynge, chiterynge, harrynge, and garrynge grisbayting”. By contrast, Aleyn’s case is quite the opposite: mixing with a woman from a southern region, his speech becomes more familiar and intelligible. Accordingly, the effect of minimizing his northernisms alleviates rather than exacerbates the “foreignness” of the dialect, and in the end, The Reeve’s Tale gestures towards an admixture of the two distinct regional languages. Viewed in a literary context, the bedroom escapades of Aleyn and John in Symkyn’s household result in various mergers and re-orientations. The adventure of the two northerners ends up with a confrontation with Symkin: Who dorste be so boold to disparage My doghter, that is come of swich lynage? And by the throte-bolle he caughte Alayn, And he hente hym despitously agayn, And on the nose he smoot hym with his fest. Doun ran the blody streem upon his brest; And in the floor, with nose and mouth tobroke, They walwe as doon two pigges in a poke; (I 4271-78) In the wake of Symkyn’s sally of anger, they get into a rough-and-tumble fight to the point that it is almost impossible to identify who is beating whom. Interestingly, it is extremely difficult to know whom the pronouns are referencing, especially from line 2774 (“he/hym/his”), which refer either to Aleyn or Symkyn, and this obscurity of $12 identification leads to the third-person plural “they”. The following scene also adds to this vagueness: the miller’s wife, while assuming that both fighters are clerks, cannot recognise “who was who” (I 4300). Her inability to identify might imply that Aleyn and Symkin are speaking in the same manner. As for this situation, Taylor observes that “the violence the clerks perpetrate implies a decidedly unfunny remainder of the North that redoubles not only on the miller but on the tale’s nationalist impulse” (486). Yet, it is also possible to say that the final brawl underscores more that they have coalesced and become both linguistically and physically indistinguishable.15 The decrease of northernisms contributes to the inclusive, if not pleasant, consequence in which the nature of the clerks and the miller’s family merges, indicated by the linguistic shift from northernism to southernism. Towards the end of the tale, this gestures towards the removal of regional boundaries. Aleyn’s eventual aptness in speaking with a southern accent might demonstrate one way of adapting to different modes of speech. This is hardly surprising in The Canterbury Tales, in which linguistic shifts often occur within each tale. Investigating the use of English, French, and Latin words in The Summoner’s Tale, Tom Shippey elucidates the degree of linguistic shifts among the characters, observing: “More interesting than the rather predictable conclusion above, however, are the linguistic shifts which take place within the tale itself. We hear the friar adapting his role to different audiences. We hear Thomas’s wife wavering between her natural way of speech and her loyalty to her husband, on the one hand, and her desire to please and impress a distinguished visitor on the other. We hear Thomas also responding to the friar’s language and beginning to imitate it, but with sarcastic contempt rather than pleased coquetry”. (143)16 With this observation in mind, it is highly likely that Chaucer makes an intentional shift of the way Aleyn speaks after having relations with someone from a different region. Aleyn’s final speech is the scene of a conscious switch by the northern student from an unfamiliar language to a more familiar one. Accordingly, by integrating the northern dialect into the general diction of The Canterbury Tales, Chaucer apparently tries to soften the impact and image of a “strange” dialect, orienting towards the removal of regional boundaries, posing a more unified language. “The blody streem” also symbolises Symkyn’s failure to climb the social ladder. Beginning with Symkyn’s attempt to bring his wife into his family, he was most interested in “lynage” or family “blood”. In a way, Symkyn’s family, including his parson father-in-law, are attracted to “worthy blood of auncetrye” (I 3982). In addition, the opening lines of The Reeve’s Tale tells that Symkin’s family is living in a peaceful countryside, a landscape represented by “stream”. 16 Shippey’s analysis of the language of The Summoner’s Tale takes its inspiration from Tolkien’s article. As he states, while The Reeve’s Tale engages on audience’s recognition of dialect geography, The Summoner’s Tale takes advantage of “strong contemporary awareness of linguistic class markers” (126). 15 $13 4. The North through a Norfolk Teller The use of northernisms should be examined through the lens of the teller, because the northern students are a creation of Oswald the Reeve (by way of Chaucer). His role as a teller of The Reeve’s Tale provides a rationale for the appearance of the northern students. In fact, attention to Reeve the teller is indispensable in further examining the significance of the dialect. The conditions that the interpolation of the dialect is connected with as well as the particularity of the regional/social background of Oswald, accounts for the reason why the dialect only occurs in the tale by Reeve, not in the Shipman of Dartmouth, nor in the Wife of Bath. The Reeve’s regional origin is explicit in the General Prologue: “Of Northfolk was this Reve of which I telle, / Biside a toun men clepen Baldeswelle” (I 619-20). This geographic reference specifies a village in northern Norfolk and carries wider implications. It is often noted that Norfolk men had a reputation for being crafty, treacherous, and avaricious.17 These negative images were fomented perhaps as they gradually gained influence in the city. Given the growth of wool production in East Anglia, the area supplied enormous numbers of immigrants to the city of London. Norfolk merchants especially prosper and accumulate wealth with cloth manufacture and the wool trade, becoming parvenu immigrants. While they had occupied the highest proportion of influx into the capital in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, their social and economic contribution did not go hand in hand with their linguistic influence.18 Although immigrating population persisted, dialectal influence on the English of London was most prominent from the Central Midland regions, not from East Anglia, especially after the mid-fourteenth century (Samuels 411).19 This might escalate the overall irony that underlies The Reeve’s Tale narrated by a Norfolk man. In this connection, Thomas J. Garbaty points to an additional level of humour regarding the local’s use of northernisms: Translated into Chaucerian context it means, what all Londoners knew, that Oswald the Reeve, a Norfolk man, spoke a kind of backwoods patois which was not only ludicrous in polite society, but which would have been barely understood with the best intentions. And of all the pilgrims en route, this man . . . took it on himself to mimic a provincial dialect in his own barbarous jargon. What hilarious nonsense and what a brilliant connotative linguistic joke! (6-7) 17 See Mann, Chaucer and Estates Satire 166; Fletcher 100-03. Linguistic features of Norfolk language were recognised as distinct from as early as the twelfth century (Beadle 92). 19 The Central Midland Counties, especially, Northamptonshire, Huntingdonshire, and Bedfordshire were the areas that, under the religious auspice of Wycliffites, propagated their regional documents, and contributed to the emergence of what was perceived to be the “literary standard” (Samuels 407-08). 18 $14 If this is true, a “linguistic joke” becomes “brilliant” and “connotative” in terms of what Chaucer has acutely perceived as the status of Norfolk language as it gradually changed and yet was incomprehensible to the London ear. While this would heighten the irrationality of the tale by the Norfolk man, the sequence of the Reeve’s verbal communication in the prologue can hardly be labelled as a “backwoods patois” nor “barbarous jargon”. As for the students’ northernisms, Chaucer must have inserted it “with sufficient frequency to maintain the impression of their native speech without cour ting the danger of making it incomprehensible” (Elliott 390). Oswald’s utterance is intelligible, but his dialect in the prologue carries a more positive nuance than his “nonsense” self-deprecation. As is well known, not only the clerks from the North but also the Norfolk Reeve are granted the use of certain recognisable features of regional speech. Horobin suggests that while the density of the Reeve’s dialect does not match the students’ northernisms, the characterisation of Norfolk speech is more thorough than has been credited (“Chaucer’s Norfolk Reeve” 611). The most prominent linguistic feature the Reeve presents is the occasional use of the first-person singular pronoun “ik”. This form is used three times more than “I”: “So theek”, quod he, “ful wel koude I thee quite” (I 3864) But ik am oold; me list not pley for age; (I 3867) And yet ik have alwey a coltes tooth, (I 3888) Here, the verb “theen” is combined with first-person pronoun “ik” in the emphatic phrase “So theek” (so may I thrive) to abbreviate “so thee ik”. In fact, other characters in The Canterbury Tales make use of this expression, but with the more standard forms “so theech” (VI 947) and “so thee’ch!” (VIII 929), but “theek” only occurs in the Reeve’s prologue. The “ik” form has been frequently associated with the linguistic traits of Norfolk, a view underpinned by several critics. For example, Richard Beadle mentions that it “doubtless intended to be recognised as East Anglianisms” (94). Drawing on the same phrase in Piers Plowman, William Langland has Covetise make his confession with exactly the same asseveration, “I swere now (so thee Ik!)” (224), found in the A, B, and Z versions (Fletcher 102). Only in the B version, Covetise adds, “I kan no Frenssh, in feiþe, but of the ferþest ende of Northfolk” (235). Recently, however, Philip Knox reconsiders the Reeve’s unique language and casts doubt on the received assumption that “ik” has a distinctly Norfolk connection. Surely, there is some evidence for “ik” being the first-person singular pronoun in the region’s dialect, but a close examination of the Linguistic Atlas of Late Mediaeval English (LALME) shows that there is no graphemic record of a Norfolk “ik” in the period of late Middle English. In fact, “ik” is no longer the dominant form in East Anglia by the first quarter of the fourteenth century, replaced by the “I” form with no final consonant. Consequently, by strongly associating the character of the Reeve with the more popular, literary type of Langland’s Covetise, Knox $15 undermines Oswald’s tenacious “dialectal” link as well as Chaucer’s “attempt at realistic mimesis of contemporary Norfolk speech habits” (122). Knox also maintains that the clerk’s northernisms should be taken as “something very different from the language of the Reeve, not merely in the extensiveness of their characterisation, but in their fundamental nature” (122-23). It is, however, fairly difficult to consider the Reeve’s marked language separately from another marked northernism that appears afterwards. Knox’s discussion owes much to the chronological record of the “ik” form in a contemporary linguistic map of East Midland, but he does not turn his eye to Oswald’s characterisation as an old man. Knox suggests at one point that the use of “ik” form could be “a deliberately archaic form, regional in the sense of being identifiably non-Southern, but more appropriately thought of as backwards or anachronistic” (121). In fact, this possibility of a “provincial anachronism” can be validated considering the fact that Oswald is an elderly man with a morbid reflection on old age. In the prologue, he demonstrates repetitious harping as a sign of the elderly. He variously exclaims, “ik am oold” (I 3867); “This white top writeth mine olde yeris” (I 3869); “We olde men” (I 3874); “oure asshen olde” (I 3882); “Thise foure sparkles longen unto eelde” (I 3885); and “Our olde limes” (I 3886). Defining himself as one of an aged cohort, “We olde men”, he bemoans his advanced years, but claims a moral superiority over the miller by virtue of his maturity. His identification with an “open-ers” (literally “open-arse” in its appearance) or the fruit of the medlar tree is nicely put, as the fruit cannot be eaten until it softens to a state of rottenness when stored. This simile justifies maturity or the belated ripeness of the elderly as opposed to its absolute lack in youth. Oswald is a man who has lived through his long life. Therefore, even if the “ik” form is out of use in contemporary Norfolk, it does not follow that Chaucer failed to exploit this dialectal feature. The strong invocation of the Reeve’s senility rationalises the literary context in which the Reeve is old enough to remember the dialectal residue and able to speak the language with “a deliberately archaic form”. Strikingly, this is why the two northern clerks do not employ the “ik” form in their dialogues, and why Oswald does not have them speak with it.20 By doing so, the Reeve displays a generational gap from the young clerks. The setting of The Reeve’s Tale does not hark back to happenings of the time of “whilom” as in The Knight’s Tale (of Athens) and The Miller’s Tale (of Oxford), but of the present rural landscape in the small village of Trumpington. As the narrative setting reflects the actuality, the two students do not declare themselves as “ik”, presumably because the first-person pronoun has lost its word-final consonant altogether in the northern area of England early in the history of Middle English. Aleyn’s use of “slyk” (I 4170) “swilk” (I 4171) corroborates the otherwise possibility of its use. The Reeve’s lengthy monologue on old age foreshadows and enlivens the characterisation as well as the action of the two northerners. This is not surprising When Aleyn makes up his mind to venture into the bed of Symkyn’s daughter, he could have used “So theek” like Oswald. However, Aleyn states “als evere moot I thrive” (I 4177). 20 $16 as the two northern clerks are, in a way, the Reeve’s “agents” in the scheme of retaliating against the Miller. Oswald’s justification of his retributive justice over the Miller, “For leveful is with force force of-showve” (I 3912) echoes the legal right to redress stolen property given by Aleyn. As the latter exclaims, “Som esement has lawe y-shapen us, / For, John, ther is a lawe that says thus: / That gif a man in a point be agreved, / That in another he sal be releved” (I 4179-82). Aleyn’s “esement” (“compensation, redress” with a legal association) is also relevant to the Reeve’s craving for sexual “esement” (as is also the case with Aleyn). Although he states “me list not pley for age” (I 3867), he still finds in the maturity of age some vitality equal with the time of youth.21 The Reeve’s speech is marked by the contrast of youth and age, functioning as a specific context that anticipates and dramatises the triumph of the youthful students over the miller. Oswald stresses no diminution of his sexual capability. With a “coltes tooth” (I 3888), he shares the same youthful desire as young Alison in The Miller’s Tale, described as a “joly colt” (I 3263, 3282). His “coltes tooth”, as unwaning lust, is frequently evoked through the horse-related metaphor, “Gras tyme is doon, my fodder is now forage” (I 3868). The horse he sits on is itself “a ful good stot” (I 615) and specifically named “Scot” (I 616), which, until recently, remained a popular East Anglian name for a horse. In a way, horse is the hallmark of his locality and identity. The description of the Reeve using equine terms provides the suggestive prologue since “this is the very man to relish the spectacle of the clerks’ ‘capul’ running madly after the wild mares while they shout and whistle after it” (Bennett 87). The slapstick horse-chase does not conclude as sheer humiliation for the students, but moves toward the students and the Reeve’s revenge. Crucially, John’s intercourse with the wife is described with the highly connotative term, “He priketh harde and depe as he were mad” (I 4231). The Middle English word “priken” has a sense of the “galloping of a horse” (MED 4 (b)), and here the verb serves unmistakably as a pun for “sexual penetration”, with John represented as “rider”.22 Symkyn’s unbridling of the clerk’s horse earlier, unexpectedly comes back on him in the form of unleashing the young students in his household.23 At the same time, the moment of John’s “hard-riding” conjures up a powerfully descriptive image of the narrator Oswald. He performs his tale in a saddle of his local horse. This horseman makes repeated allusions to his “will” (I 3877, 3880, 3887) or sexual desire in which Perhaps because of this, he cares about the things in the past as if to emphasise that present maturity cannot exist without the former achievements of youth. He cannot shake off the good image of the past. He had learned “a good myster” (trade) in his youth and must have been a country entrepreneur. This explains why he is extremely sensitive to the Miller’s tale about the cuckold carpenter, although he has already risen to a higher profession. 22 Curiously, the OED does not record “prick” as a sexual connotation, while the MED records only one instance in the figurative sense “to have sexual intercourse” (MED 4b (g)). This is from Ladd Y the daunce (c. 1450) in early English carols, which runs, “Tho Jak and yc wenten to bedde; He prikede and he pransede; nolde he neuer lynne; Yt was the murgust nyt that euer Y cam ynne”. See also Scott-Macnab 374. 23 This point is noted by several critics. See Lancashire 168 and Hines 133. Kolve summarises the structural relationship of the situation as “after a day spent trying to regain control of the runaway college horse, the clerks now let their own libidinous horses run free in the bedroom darkness” (251). 21 $17 “nail” sticks. According to the MED, citing this passage, “nail” is used figuratively in proverbs and proverbial expressions in a sense of “a piercing desire, a desire which either irritates one or binds one to someone or something” (2 (c)). A nail also literally means a “metal spike”, taken as a metaphor for Oswald’s phallus. The sharp attribute of the nail climaxes in the form of clerks’ enthusiastic “swyving” or “pricking” of Symkyn’s wife and daughter. Oswald’s old, but still lingering “nail” thrusts into Symkyn’s wife by figuratively transforming itself into the vigorous “prick” of the young student.24 John’s “spurring” on the bed can therefore be read not only as the clerk’s comeback for the former mortification but also as unleashing of the teller Oswald’s frustration, a fulfilment of his otherwise unattainable desire. In sum, the Reeve’s prologue and his tale, especially Oswald’s elderly characterisation and the students blessed with youthfulness, should not be considered separately. To return to the issue of dialect, these structural and thematic ties are further underlined by their shared geographical standing of the story of a “nonsoutherner”. Viewed in this light, the eventual fading of the northern dialect in The Reeve’s Tale might reveal Chaucer’s attempt to incorporate “Otherness”, a project in which he makes sensible by making the figure of a Norfolk man as a go-between. Trevisa writes that “men of myddel Engelond, as it were parteners of þe endes, vnderstondeþ bettre þe side langages, norþerne and souþerne, þan norþerne and souþerne vnderstondeþ eiþer oþer” (II. 163). Furthermore that “þe myddel men beeþ somdele partyners wiþ boþe” (II. 167). Here, “partner” means “one who shares certain qualities or traits” (MED 2 (d)).25 Oswald is the “partner” who, through Aleyn and John, ventriloquises his linguistic ability to imitate northern as well as southern dialects. It should be noted that, while his prologue smoothly “prepares the audience for the linguistic hurdles ahead” (Elliott 393),26 it also suggests a glimpse of his linguistic flexibility as a Norfolk teller in the manipulation of speech without a North-South axis. By comparison with the high degree of consistency in the clerks’ northernisms, the Reeve’s dialect is patchy, sporadic, and more fluctuates. As the Reeve’s first words in his prologue indicate, “ik” of “So theek” immediately shifts to “I” in the following “ful wel koude I thee quite” (I 3864). The form of “I” continues to dominate especially toward the end of the prologue (I 3871, 3874, 3883, 3891, 3910, 24 In Middle English “nail” is commonly “used in the crucifixion of Jesus. Freq. as a symbol of the Passion, esp. in devotion or meditation” (OED, 5 (a)). OED adds that “this is one of the most common senses of the word in Old English and early Middle English texts”. “Prick” has a similar usage “(a) A pointed object, something that punctures or stabs; spike” (MED 1 (a)), while “priking(e)” also means “a wound resulting from a piercing, puncture wound; perforation of a nerve or tendon; also, marks resulting from piercing the flesh; the print of the nails in Christ’s hands” (MED 1 (c)). The MED cites a passage including both words from South English Legendary: Temporale (Passion of Christ): “Þo sede seint Thomas to hem, ‘bote ich miȝte yseo ywis Þe prykkynge of þe nayles þat in his honden is . . . y nelle hit leoue nouȝt”. (2130) (emphasis added). 25 Taylor states that “it is not surprising, then, that the Reeve can mimic northern dialect in his tale and also speak to southerners such as those on the pilgrimage with him. He is truly a ‘myddel man’” (473). Tolkien also claims that Oswald is “at once the symbol of the direction from which northerly forms of speech invaded the language of the southern capital, and the right person to choose to act as intermediary in the tale” (6). 26 In a more negative way, Pearsall claims that the Reeve’s dialect “tap[s] the phobia that Londoners had for people from the provinces” (51). $18 3911, 3915, 3916, 3917, 3918). It seems that the usage coincides with the way he regains his composure, while the earlier outburst of “ik” reflects his excited mood toward the miller. In other words, his utterance is indicative of his ability to have a command of both usages according to his mood. The presence of a “partner” like Oswald plays a pivotal role as a “buffer” in mitigating the general anxiety over the North. As Trevisa notes, for people attuned to the southern country, but head to north, Oswald can provide “greet [help] and strengþe” (Trevisa II. 163). His marked dialect is both a “linguistic hurdle” and a linguistic cushion, as it were. While making ready for the appearance of the elaborate northernisms, he accommodates the levelling of his northernisms. The sparse and seemingly inconsistent, but unusual deployment of Oswald’s unique delivery in the opening of the tale implicitly agrees with or even gives grounds for the manner of Aleyn’s toned-down northernisms, integrating the northern dialect into the general diction of The Canterbury Tales. As a whole, forging the local affiliation between Oswald and the two clerks, Chaucer apparently tries to alleviate the impact of an allegedly “strange” dialect. Through the mouthpiece of a Norfolk man, the northern dialect and its otherness becomes part of a more realistic, daily landscape, rendering physically and mentally a remote place familiar.27 By way of cultural means rather than political, this could have been one solution Chaucer sought from his early career, a resolution, based on his heightened sensitivity and insight: to overcome a vernacular instability shown in the famous ending of Troilus and Criseyde, “ther is so gret diversite / In Englissh and in writing of oure tonge” (V 1793-94). Works Cited Beadle, Richard. “Prolegomena to a Literary Geography of Later Medieval Norfolk”. Regionalism in Late Medieval Manuscripts and Texts, edited by Felicity Riddy, D.S. Brewer, 1991, pp. 89-108. Beidler, Peter G. “The Reeve’s Tale”. Sources and Analogues of the Canterbury Tales I, edited by Robert M. Correale and Mary Hamel, D.S. Brewer, 2002, pp. 23-73. Bennett, J. A. W. Chaucer at Oxford and Cambridge. U of Toronto P, 1974. Blake, N. F. Non-standard Language in English Literature. Deutsch, 1981. Cawley, A. C., editor. The Wakefield Pageants in the Towneley Cycle. Manchester UP, 1958. Chaucer’s two northerners may be rough and vindictive, but they are in the first place victims harassed by the miller’s habitual cheating. There is little imagery of threat and fear associated with the North in Chaucer’s representation of John and Aleyn. As to this point, King suggests: 27 Severely provoked by the miller’s cheating, John and Aleyn revenge themselves by sleeping with his wife and daughter—and not by burning down his mill, ravaging his cottage and holding him to ransom. This depiction of northerners is in keeping with Chaucer’s contemporaries in the late-fourteenth century, who were more likely to criticise Northumbrians for not being war-like enough, in failing to defend the borders against Scottish incursions. In fact, their accents and swearing apart, there is little specifically ‘northern’ in Chaucer’s representation of John and Aleyn. (103) $19 Chaucer, Geoffrey. The Canterbury Tales. The Riverside Chaucer. 3rd ed., edited by Larry D. Benson. Houghton Mifflin, 1987. Cooper, Helen. Oxford Guides to Chaucer: The Canterbury Tales. 2nd ed. OUP, 1996. Crow, Martin Michael. “The Reeve’s Tale in the hand of a North Midland Scribe”. Studies in English, no. 18, 1938, pp. 14-24. Davis, Norman, et al. A Chaucer Glossary. OUP, 1979. Epstein, Robert. “‘Fer in the north; I kan nat telle where’: Dialect, Regionalism, and Philologism”. Studies in the Age of Chaucer, vol. 30, 2008, pp. 95-124. Elliott, Ralph W. V. Chaucer’s English. Deutsch, 1974. Fitzgerald, Jill. “A ‘Clerkes Compleinte’: Tolkien and the Division of Lit. and Lang”. Tolkien Studies, vol. 6, 2009, pp. 41-57. Fletcher, Alan, J. “Chaucer’s Norfolk Reeve”. Medium Ævum, vol. 52, 1983, pp. 100-03. Garbaty, Thomas Jay. “Satire and Regionalism: The Reeve and his Tale”. The Chaucer Review, vol. 8, no. 1, 1973, pp. 1-8. Higden, Ranulph. Polychronicon, Together with the English Translations of John Trevisa and of an Unknown Writer of the Fiteenth Century, edited by Churchill Babington and Joseph Lumby. 9 vols. Rolls Series 41. Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1865-86. Hines, John. The Fabliau in English. Longman, 1993. Horobin, Simon. “J.R.R. Tolkien as a Philologist: A Reconsideration of the Northernisms in Chaucer’s Reeve’s Tale”. English Studies, vol. 82, no. 2, 2001, pp. 97-105. ——— “Chaucer’s Norfork Reeve”. Neophilologus, vol. 86, no. 4, 2002, pp. 609-12. Irace, Kathleen. “Mak’s Sothren Tothe: A Philological and Critical Study of the Dialect Joke in the Second Shepherd’s Play”. Comitatus: A Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies, vol. 21, no. 1, 1990, 38-51. King, Andy. “‘Fer in the North, I kan nat telle where’: Gentility and Provicialism in Chaucer’s Reeve’s Tale”. Nottingham Medieval Studies, vol. 57, 2013, 89-110. Knox, Philip. “The ‘Dialect’ of Chaucer’s Reeve”. The Chaucer Review, vol. 49, no. 1, 2014, pp. 102-24. Kurath, Hans, and S. M. Kuhn, editors. Middle English Dictionary. U of Michigan P, 2001-2013. Web. 28 May. 2017. Kolve, V. A. Chaucer and the Imagery of Narrative: The First Five Canterbury Tales. Stanford UP, 1984. Lancashire, Ian. “Sexual Innuendo in the Reeve’s Tale”. The Chaucer Review, vol. 6, no. 3, 1972, pp. 159-70. Machan, Tim William. English in the Middle Ages. OUP, 2003. Manly, John M. and Edith Rickert, et al., editors, The Text of the Canterbury Tales Studied on the Basis of Al Known Manuscripts. 8 vols. U of Chicago P, 1940. Mann, Jill, editor. The Canterbury Tales. Penguin, 2005. ———. Chaucer and Medieval Estates Satire: The Literature of Social Classes and the General Prologue to the Canterbury Tales. Cambridge UP, 1973. Murphy, Michael. “North: The Significance of a Compass Point in ‘Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’ and Some Other Medieval English Literature”. Lore & Language, vol. 3, no. 8, 1983, pp. 65-76. Muscatine, Charles. Medieval Literature, Style, and Culture: Essays. U of South Carolina P, 1999. The Oxford English Dictionary. OED Online. OUP. 28 May. 2017 <http://dictionary.oed.com/>. $20 Pearsall, Derek. “Strangers in Late-fourteenth-century London”. The Stranger in Medieval Society, edited by F. R. P. Akehurst and Stephanie Cain Van D’Elden, U of Minnesota P, 1997. Samuels, M. L. “Some Applications of Middle English Dialectology”. English Studies, vol. 44, 1963, pp. 81-94. Rpt. in Approaches to English Historical Linguistics: An Anthology, edited by Roger Lass. Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1969, pp. 404-18. Scase, Wendy. “Tolkien, Philology, and The Reeve's Tale: Towards the Cultural Move in Middle English Studies”. Studies in the Age of Chaucer, vol. 24, pp. 2002, pp. 325-34. Scott-Macnab, David. “‘Of prickyng and of huntyng for the hare’: General Prologue to The Canterbury Tales I 191”. Journal of English and Germanic Philology, vol. 104, no. 3, 2005, pp. 373-84. Shippey, Tom. “Bilingualism and Betrayal in Chaucer’s ‘Summoner’s Tale.’” Speaking in the Medieval World, edited by Jean E. Godsall-Myers, Brill, 2003, pp. 125-44. Stubbs, Estelle, Michael Pidd, Orietta Da Rold, Simon Horobin and Claire Thomson with Linda Cross, editors. The Multitext Edition. The Norman Blake Editions of The Canterbury Tales. U of Sheffield, 2013. Available at: <http://www.chaucermss.org/ multitext> [Accessed 8 March 2015]. Taylor, Joseph. “Chaucer’s Uncanny Regionalism: Rereading the North in The Reeve’s Tale”. The Journal of English and Germanic Philology, vol. 109, no. 4, 2010, pp. 468-89. Tolkien, J. R. R. “Chaucer as a Philologist: The Reeve’s Tale”. Transactions of the Philological Society, vol. 33, no. 1, 1934, pp. 1-70. $21