Lindsay Cornelson The Pardoner’s Tale
Of all of the tales that are told by the pilgrims in The Canterbury Tales, one of the most satisfying is that of the rioters related by the Pardoner. In recounting the exemplum of three young sinners out to destroy Death, the author uses many different elements to draw in his audience. The mysterious atmosphere of the tale, the dramatic tension created by the length and speed of the narrative and the use of irony in both the telling of the tale and in the tale itself all have the combined effect of fascinate the readers and ensuring that the moral of the tale is heard. While not necessarily the most likeable of all the pilgrims, the Pardoner is a master story-teller who uses every available means to captivate an satisfy his audience.
One important element that makes the Pardoner’s Tale so intriguing is the atmosphere of the story. The reader is never quite sure whether the events described are taking place in the domain of reality or fantasy. This confusion starts with the Pardoner himself, an extremely bizarre character both physically and mentally. Described very effeminately in the General Prologue as a “gelding or a mare” (693) with no beard, long blonde hair and the finest clothing. He is an admitted hypocrite and sinner, who goes back and forth between what seems like true sincerity and pure salesmanship. This is obviously not a realistic characterization, but rather an exaggeration that helps to create a sense of fantasy. At the very at the beginning of the tale, the Pardoner interrupts the fictional story with a nearly 200-line diatribe regarding the evils of various sins. Right away, the line between fiction and reality is blurred. This line almost totally disappears, as the tale progresses, told mostly through the dialogue of the three drunken rioters. Told by a servant of the “privee theef men clepeth Deeth” (347), the rioters immediately accept the child’s literal translation of his mother’s warning, and go out to hunt down the elusive figure. Along the way, they routinely confuse fantasy for reality and vice versa. This is demonstrated not only by their embodiment of Death, but also by their accusations towards the old man: “Have heer my trouthe, as thou art his aspye, / Tel wher he is, or thou shalt it abye, / By God, and by the holy sacrement! / For soothly thou art oon of his assent / To sleen us yonge folk, thou false theef!” (426-430). To them, it seems quite logical that figures from each realm could travel back and forth between reality and fantasy. By extension, it becomes logical to the reader as well. This plausibility stems in part from the fact that the events of the story can be accounted for rationally. Given their inebriated state, it is understandable how the young men could mistake the idea of death for a real entity. The old man, being described quite strangely, “al forwrapped save [his] face” (390), could also provoke some suspicions. The treasure under the tree is hardly a supernatural phenomenon, and the final outcome of the tale can be explained psychologically. When these ‘rational’ elements are mixed with some other, more fantastical elements, the reader becomes less sure of where the line between the two realms should be drawn. This disturbing atmosphere captures the reader’s attention and draws them further into the story.
