Topic > Christian Obligation and Religious Uncertainty in Orlando's Song and the Canterbury Tales

The Middle Ages were marked by religious upheavals in Europe. Two new major world religions were coming to power: Islam and Christianity. The rapid success of Christianity led to the Roman Catholic Church becoming the dominant religious force in most of the Western world, and like any powerful institution, it became increasingly corrupt (Swanson 409). As Lillian Bisson writes in Chaucer and the Late Medieval World, “the medieval church…was a collection of competing factions with often contradictory agendas.” Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay The church's internal conflict has led to public distrust in religious authority. Expanding on Bisson's observations, this article will describe the development of religious doubt in medieval Europe and note how it characterizes the literature of the period. Comparing two of the most important texts of the Middle Ages – the anonymous epic The Song of Orlando and Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales – I argue that the latter work registers a profound distrust of religious authority that is not present in the former. The different images that the two texts present of the church, I suggest, distinguish The Song of Orlando and the Canterbury Tales as, respectively, early medieval and late medieval works. Three developments contributed to the rise of Christian doubt in the Middle Ages: the persecution of heretics, the Black Death, and the Great Schism. As Bisson describes, the Catholic Church became increasingly powerful as it became inseparable from the government. When the Roman emperor Constantine converted to Christianity, the church quickly gained influence and a new doctrinal hierarchy began to develop in place of the church's previous communal character. Individuals who did not accept Catholic doctrine were dismissed as subhuman or, if they lived in what came to be called Christendom – persecuted as heretics. Eventually, the laity and especially the middle and lower classes developed a sense of distrust towards the Church. Clergy members who became church leaders for money and status rather than religious conviction routinely abused their power. Public opinion took notice of these abuses, and so began the collapse of previously absolute trust in religious authority. The Black Death, a tragedy that killed countless people in Christendom, also contributed to public distrust in the church because people fulfilled the prayers of their priests. they were useless against the disease. Faith in God's power and God's benevolence reached an all-time low as people helplessly watched their loved ones die. Many members of the clergy abandoned their positions for fear of the work required of them with the morbidly ill (50). A third major problem with the church resulted from what is known as the Great Schism. When two different men claimed the right to the papacy, immense scandal and internal conflict threatened the future of the Church (56). Around the same time, Oxford scholar John Wyclif began to publicly criticize the church. Not only did he challenge fundamental beliefs and practices by denying the possibility of transubstantiation, but he also attempted to diminish the power of the priests. He translated the Bible into English for the first time in history, which made it much more accessible to the common person. (58), and maintained that every good Christian was a priest. This assertion, along with the newly translated Bible and the increasing literacy rate of the lower classes, led to the diminishing need for priests for worship. Suddenly, the ordinary person could be religiouswithout the intervention of the church. This change in religious power is recorded in the literature of the time: while early medieval writings emphasize the higher rank of monks and nuns, later works place more emphasis on the religious importance of poor preachers and even lay people. With the church weakened by both internal conflict and diminished credibility among the public, many Christians began to seriously reconsider the church's values ​​and doctrine. As a result, the literature of the period reflects deep reservations about the Church, reservations that are not present in earlier texts. The anonymous French national epic, The Song of Roland, written before Wyclif's criticisms and before the Black Death wreaked its havoc on Christendom, unequivocally supports ecclesiastical authority. Written as a propaganda piece for the need for holy wars, The Song of Roland demonstrates the intolerance of the church in the Middle Ages. Although The Song of Orlando describes events that occurred in 778, it was composed in 1095: the year the first crusade against the Muslims was launched. In reality, however, the battle the text deals with was not part of a holy war. In fact, it had nothing to do with Islam. It was the Basques, not the Muslims, who had massacred the rear guard of the Frankish army. The writer of the Songs of Orlando uses extensive creative license to develop the story into a reductive allegory about the triumph of Christianity (good) over Islam (evil). The writer "ascribes a religious meaning to secular acts, appropriating the campaign of 778 not only as a holy war but as a war between God and Satan". In the allegorical framework of the text, Orlando's tale is also the story of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. Roland is a figure of Christ who dies a martyr; the parallels between the two characters reinforce the dogmatic nature of the text. Roland has Twelve Peers (Roland 1259), just like the Twelve Disciples of Christ. Ganelon, the fall of Roland, is depicted as Judah. He betrays Roland by telling the Saracens (pagans and therefore enemies of Christianity) how they can ambush and kill the skilled warrior. Interestingly, Ganelon betrays Roland for reasons of pride rather than money. In his conversation with the pagans, Ganelon observes: "If anyone could bring about Orlando's death, / Charles would lose the right arm of his body." The author draws a parallel between Orlando and Jesus Christ, who in Christian mythology is often described as the "right hand" of God. Roland's death reinforces the allegorical character of the epic. Attempting to warn his supporters that his army has been ambushed, Roland blows his horn so loudly that he dies from the sheer effort. Almost immediately, his soul is taken directly to Heaven by angels. Thus the language used in the death scene recalls the biblical episode of the Passion: "Rolando the Count feels: he no longer sees; / he stands up, draws on his last strength, / the color of his face is now lost forever". Christian allegory is used to justify not only the church, but the particular crusade that the church was promoting at the time of the epic's composition. To the extent that Orlando's death is presented as noble, the scene reminds readers of the Christian value of sacrifice: the holy war is justifiable because its warriors must suffer as Jesus Christ suffered for the common good of the people. Orlando's Song is used to promote the idea of ​​Holy War as a necessary sacrifice that elevates the warrior to the status of Jesus Christ. Written between 1386 and 1400, Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales is a late medieval text and, as such, marked by the serious conflict surrounding the Catholic Church inthis period. Lee Patterson, in his introduction to Chaucer in the Norton Anthology of Western Literature, underestimates the importance of religious doubt in Chaucer's writings. “Strangely,” he writes, “[most] of these events [in and around the church] find only the slightest mention in Chaucer's poetry.” As other critics have noted, however, Chaucer's texts often deal extensively with religion on a subtextual plane. level. Bisson notes that Chaucer had mutual friends with John Wyclif and thus extensive connections with church critics (58). Similarly, Helen Phillips argues that much of Chaucer's writings can be characterized as "anti-clerical fabliaux", a literary technique common of the late Middle Ages that satirized, and therefore undermined, ecclesiastical authority (104). Phillips also notes the subversive gesture of Chaucer's choice to write in vernacular English, as opposed to Latin, the official language of Roman Catholicism and, as such, an indicator of the elitism that characterized the medieval church. Well aware of the growing literacy among lower-class people, Chaucer's use of vernacular English made his works – unlike the Bible – accessible to all across a broad state class. His particular sympathy for people from the lower strata of the social hierarchy is recorded in all his writings. As Phillips argues, Chaucer's depiction of the peasantry "is empathetic, uncondescending, and respectful." He contrasts "their sound moral judgment, sense of fairness, and disgust towards scoundrels and arrogant clerical predators." Aligning himself with critics of the church, whose skepticism was often directed at its most powerful members, Chaucer presented the upper members of the church hierarchy as hateful and corrupt, and his few examples of good religious figures are of lower status. it permeated many aspects of Chaucer's writings, even those that dealt only indirectly with the church. In The Canterbury Tales, his most famous work, Chaucer uses characterization and imagery to subtly criticize the corruption and tyranny of ecclesiastical authority. For example, the Miller, a character seemingly not associated with the church, is among Chaucer's most powerful vehicles for giving voice to religious doubt. As the Miller prepares to tell his story, he says, "I will tell a golden legend and a life," which, as Nicholas Watson notes, is a common phrase used to describe the stories told about the lives of saints at that time. Chaucer is "stripping [Christianity] of its pretensions," describing Miller's vile tale of adultery in the language of a sacred text (52). The Miller then announces his tale as a satire of the seriousness with which people of the time approached religion and the authority it had over them. The content of the Miller's tale also has a subtext of religious doubt. The Miller tells the story of Alison, a young woman married to a carpenter named John. Alison is in a relationship with Nicholas, an Oxford student, and is also the object of the Absolon clerk's unrequited affections. The sexuality and crudeness of the tale make it a profane story that is intrinsically at odds with Christian doctrine, which legislates against the sins of the flesh. However, Miller's tale has numerous religious references. Introducing Nicholas to the reader, the Miller sings "Angelus to the Virgin", an ancient prayer which, when used to describe adultery, becomes sacrilegious (1720). Similarly, after Nicholas and Alison decide to deceive John so that they can become lovers, Chaucer writes: Now, in her Christian duty, one saint's day, to the parish church this good wife went, and as she went herforehead cast a glow Bright as noon, for he had washed it so that it shone when he finished his work. Chaucer uses juxtaposition here to sacrilegious effect. The images of cleanliness and purity "bright", "shining", "glittering"), as well as the fact that Alison goes to church "in her Christian duty", establish the character as a hypocrite. Alison is indicted by her zeal for the church and vice versa. If this is a woman upholding her "Christian duty," Chaucer suggests, then Christianity leaves much to be desired. The deception that Alison and Nicholas create to prevent her husband from discovering their adultery also takes a clear swipe at Christianity. The lovers use the story of Noah and the Great Flood from the Bible to force John to believe that another flood is coming. The exchange of biblical scriptures for sexual gain suggests that Chaucer felt that the church was often used as a means to an end (usually sexual or monetary) rather than as a path to spiritual fulfillment. Similarly, in a later episode, Absolon tries to woo Alison from outside her bedroom window using imagery and language from the Bible. "Song of Songs". The interesting thing about the "Song of Songs" is that, although it is a love song in the Bible, it is interpreted by the clergy as a representation of the pure love between God and human beings. Here, however, Absolon uses it to attempt to woo a married woman, an act that overturns the official purpose of the text. The many perversions of biblical scripture work together in Miller's Tale to form a sort of comic interpretation of the hypocrisy of the authority and actions of the medieval Christian church. While there are many religious figures portrayed in a negative light in The Canterbury Tales, the most deplorable is the Pardoner. A pardoner's job was to sell papal indulgences, pre-written slips of paper that gave forgiveness to a sinner in exchange for an act of punishment and a donation of money to the church. The pardoner became an important figure within the Church in the 13th century, when the complete doctrine of purgatory was established. This doctrine defined purgatory as a place of short-term punishment for sinners who had not been fully absolved at death, but who had not committed sins serious enough to be banished to hell for all eternity. Indulgences could be purchased for both a living person and a deceased loved one, to decrease the amount of time spent in purgatory. Naturally these indulgences became a great source of corruption in the church. Some pardoners forged documents to earn extra money for themselves, and lay people felt free to indulge in sin because they could simply purchase forgiveness. Even within this corrupt profession, Chaucer's Pardoner is particularly despicable. In the first paragraph of his Prologue he announces that his sermon is always based on the phrase "Radix malorum est cupiditas", or "Avarice is the root of all evil". He then immediately begins describing how he uses religion for his own material gain by selling false relics and counterfeit indulgences. By directly contradicting his own sermon, the Pardoner reinforces the subtext of religious doubt that runs through The Canterbury Tales. His hypocrisy is further compounded by the content of his tale, which is presented as a moral lesson and involves three men dying due to their own greed. In the General Prologue, the description of the Pardoner suggests what Phillips calls his "spiritual sterility" (149). He is described as having long blonde hair, with no hair on, 2002. 75-90.