Canterbury Tales (Post 1)

The Friar

The friar is a particularly interesting character who adds a bit of flavor to the motley bunch. On the one hand, he is a jovial, fun-seeking man who lives off of begging. On the other, he seems to use his religious post to his advantage, giving out easy penance to those who are able to donate money while ignoring beggars and lepers because they can offer him nothing. Overall, he was described as a very jolly and social man, popular with all the innkeepers and flirting as wantonly “as if he were a small puppy.” He seemed to enjoy a very lavish lifestyle, obtaining more money through his job than what his proper income should allow. During the Middle Ages, priests and friars were known for taking advantage of pious individuals by charging them in excess to “free their souls from perdition.” Penance was one of the the fund-raising schemes of the Catholic Church—the clerics preyed on pilgrims’ fears of hell to benefit financially.

The friar falls in line with the Prioress and the Monk, both of which are deceptive and indulge in flamboyant lifestyles. The Prioress’s manners try to emulate those of the royal court, as she attempts to redefine her own role and present herself as one of royalty. The Monk, on the other hand, abandons his monastic duties and lives like a lord. These three ironic characters serve as a foil to the Knight, the Squire, and the Yemen, who embody the values of loyalty and honor.

Canterbury Tales Post

Here is blog 6:

Look eek that to the king Demetrius

The King of Parthes, as the book saith us,

Sente him a paire of dees of gold in scorn

For he hadde used hasard therbiform

For which he heeld his glorye or his renown

                At this point, the Pardoner describes the folly of gambling (“hasard”). Throughout the passage, he attacks the concept as “the mother of lies, deceit, and perjury” and categorizes it as a waste of time, money, and morals. He describes royalty figures who have transcended this vice in order to make his point. First, he explains that if a prince is caught gambling, his reputation and credibility go down the drain, and his “governance and policye” is debased to common opinion. The Pardoner’s first example is the wise ambassador Stilbon, who refused to join in on Sparta’s gambling, saying he would rather die than lose his name to such shame. He thus abdicates his position as ambassador in order to uphold his reputation. The Pardoner’s next example is that of King Demetrius, leader of the Parthians. My question about the lines above has to do with the gold dice. First of all, I am unsure as to whether Demetrius is the one receiving them for his gambling or whether he is giving them to someone as a scolding. Also, I am curious as to why the object is a pair of gold dice. The dice is clearly a symbol of the gambling, but I do not know why the author makes them gold—seemingly the opposite from punishment. My idea on the topic is that since gold typically symbolizes royalty and power, the giving of the gold dice serves as a way to mock the receiver, to remind him of the respect he has lost because of his actions.

Overall, the Pardoner’s attack on these vices seems very ironic, considering that he himself admits to having them. Although he accuses himself of fraud, avarice, and gluttony, he seems to take pride in his amorality and boosts about his exploitation of the fears of others. In my opinion, he is trying to cover up his fears and worries about taking on such a life. He wants to project this confidence in his own vices, but I feel that he is worried about the consequences of his spiritual degradation.

beowulf blog

He gazed upon the fuming flames, burning bright into the infinite night. The son of Weohstan bowed his head, attempting to salvage any last memories of his great lord. Two men, having bloomed from feuding bloodlines, were brought together by the valor and might of this great man. How ironic, how easily the soul flees the body—had his hands held the power of a thousand men, his fate would have been the same, his entity reduced to mere dust. The moment kept replaying in Wiglaf’s mind: the mighty serpent had snuck up on our hero, securing the blow that would evoke tears out of nations. The young warrior, a surge of adrenaline and fear flowing through his veins, ran forward, knowing there was little he could do. The final struggle, although lasting only five minutes, seemed to stretch on forever. Their fast-beating hearts marked a period of uncertainty. Finally, the lingering moment dropped to a halt as Beowulf ended the dragon’s existence with a mere blow. Just as a feeling of victory began to fill the air, the triumphant hero fell to his knees, dark red blood oozing down his back, wrapping the man in a rosy cape. The next few moments would be the most excruciatingly long and painful in young Wiglaf’s life; Beowulf lay next to the dragon, the spark of life dwindling in his flickering eyes. Tears rushed down the young Scylfing’s face, hopelessness and sorrow overwhelming him. The sound of footsteps awakened Wiglaf from his trance and the cackling of flames resumed in front of him. Beowulf’s armed guard, the shameful cowards who fled during their lord’s moment of need, had scurried forward abashedly to enter the funeral procession. All of the sudden, sorrow and mourning was replaced by seething anger and rebuke; the warrior spat in the cackling flames as he stood up furiously.

Useless men! Useless cowards! Every one of you will be dispossessed, once princes from beyond get tidings of how you turned and fled, disgracing yourselves. A warrior will sooner die than live in shame. Look at the man that lies there. He put every fiber of his being into fighting alongside such undeserving men. His trusted guard!! His finest men, put him out to die while they resided in comfort of their own safety. (He spat once more into the flames).

His words were like arrows, cutting deep into their sense of guilt. He sat back down. They were worth no more of his time. Looking deep into the fire, lost in memories, young Wiglaf drifted into a deep slumber.

Beginning of I-search

Ivaylo Bahtchevanov

AP English: British Lit

Coon

14 November 2010

                                                I search: Genius

When I first came to America at the ripe age of four, I found myself being taught the English language most effectively not from my teachers or parents, but from social interaction with kids my age and with cartoons that engaged my immature mind. I found myself particularly entertained by a quirky show called Dexter’s Laboratory, in which a nine-year-old boy genius keeps a secret laboratory (with a stress on the second syllable) filled with high-tech equipment. Despite the complicated system of passwords and hidden switches required to decode to gain entrance into this lab, his dim-witted, happy-go-lucky sister Dee Dee always mysteriously gains entrance and messes up his experiments with her hands-on curious nature. The stark contrast between Dee Dee and Dexter stood out and was the first instance in which I encountered the word genius. Children at a young age have the capacity to learn languages fairly easily. During the “critical learning period,” any connotations that help them remember certain words become imprinted in their memory and tend to stick around as they get older. If these children are learning a second language, however, then these associations become even more prevalent in remembering the specific words. So for the next few years of my life, whenever someone used the word genius, I immediately thought of that strange and obnoxious child closing himself off from the outside world to work in his laboratory. Consequently, I became very self-conscious and frustrated when someone at school would refer to me by that adjective whenever I did well on a test or an assignment. This image of the word dug itself even deeper into my mind as other television shows such as Jimmy Neutron once again portrayed a genius as a socially awkward and obnoxiously smart little boy who performed experiments for seemingly no apparent reason.

As I grew older, my overall opinion of the word changed, yet the association I made between genius and Dexter when I was four years old remains in the back of my mind to this day. I chose to explore the origins of this word because I wanted to learn how this word came to have both such a negative and positive connotation simultaneously. My search gave me insight into how genius came to mean what it does today and transformed the way I perceived it. What fascinated me most about my search was not only how incredibly far off the original meanings were from today’s common understanding for it but also how inherently yet subtly linked these different definitions are to one another. Together, they lay out the blue prints to our human identity.

My first pit-stop in this search was the Oxford English Dictionary. Marking the birth of this word from the Latin genii, this source traces the evolution of genius from its most primitive meanings to its current definition. In the first meaning, the dictionary references the classical pagan belief: “the tutelary god or attendant spirit allotted to every person at birth, to govern his fortunes and determine his character, and finally to conduct him out of the world.” I found this description very interesting because to the Romans, genius is the part of us that makes us human: our very soul and conscience. The word is also the proper name of an allegorical person in the story Rom de la Rose who demonstrates the moral instincts of mankind as limits to the appetite for sexual passion. In other words, this character is the epitome of human conscious thought and represents the higher emotions that set us apart from the primitive and unrestrained emotions that govern the rest of the animal kingdom. The second Latin definition added a more festive aspect to the word. After 1605, genius took on the meaning, “the spirit viewed as propitiated by festivities; hence, one’s appetite.” At first glance, this definition appeared to mean the exact opposite of the first, embodying the very sentiment the first was trying to control through moderation; however, the more I thought about it, the more I began to see the similarity between the two. The Romans valued reason and balance as essential to the happiness and well-being of every human. Thus, even celebrations and festivities in their excess would be detrimental to our health. The connotation of this word would be hence one of disciplined merriment. The third definition refers to the two mutually opposed spirits by which every person was supposed to be governed throughout his life. The idea that our lives, our personalities, our daily actions are governed by two forces—one good and one bad—demonstrates the yin-yang concept of balance that the two previous meanings symbolized. It also points out that although we are gifted with a conscience to guide us, we do not always act in accordance with it. Even though these three definitions are spiritual, their meanings have practical implications to our everyday actions and thus define us.

The fourth definition crosses into the realm of the quasi-mythological, taking the focus away from our human nature. OED defines genius as “a demon or spiritual being in general, as rendering of Arab, jinn, the collective name of a class of spirits supposed to interfere in human affairs.”