Whan that Aprille Week

A verie joyous "Whan that Aprille Week" to all of yow, my rederes, from yower forwaked and fortravailled blogger. Ich haue been y-laboring for National Adaptacioun of Guido della Colonna's Historia Destructionis Troiae Moneth (NaAdGuiCollHistDestTroMo) and ich am proud to saye that ich haue y-carved an entyre boke of the double wo of Troylus and Criseyde from the raw matter of the historiale accountes. It hath ben a good way to kepe from thinkinge upon the gret wo and distourbance that hath risen up yn parlement.

In the maner of poostes from two yeeres now, ich do aske yow to use thys fyne daye of Aprille to reden of my werkes. Ich do copye myn owene letter patent from bifor:

...ich praye yow permitten me oon smal moment of sentimente.

On this week cometh the first daye of Aprille. Bifor Aprille was the cruellest moneth (whatever that meneth!), it was a moneth of coloures and cries, and pilgrymages. Yt was, I sholde saye, myn favourite moneth.

Ich am nat oon to tooten myne owen horne, but this week ich wolde asken yow to declaymen my tales. To yowrselves, to yowr frendes, or simplye in the marketplace or churchyarde. For charitees sake, ye coulde declaymen them to beggares, leperes, or humorlesse rogues who studien engineerynge. Wherever ye proclaymen them thogh, do yt so in loude voyse and cleere, for yt is only fooles who think a poeme lith on the page aloone.

Yf thou knowst nat this maner of Englyssh, be nat ashamed. Yf thou kanst reden thys blogge, thou kanst reden myn Englisshe. Talke to yt slowlie, as if it were an olde relative whom thou lovest verie muche, and yt shal talke back to thee.

I, Galfridus Chaucer, do invite all my rederes to poost yower contribuciouns as comments to this poost - ye maye make videoes for ye-tube of redynges of myn werkes or of adaptaciouns, ye maye poost linkes to mp3s, or to events, or to peyntures or animaciouns or what-evir ye wolde present to the othir rederes of myn blog to celebrate this joyous moneth. Thos who teche or studye myn werkes may leve testamentz of experiences in yower class roomes, or explain why or whan ye first began to studien myn writinges. May it plese yow to linke, quote, cite and pass this on!

26 comment "Whan that Aprille Week"

  1. Maistre Chaucer, 'tis a mighty werke.

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  2. Yf ich myghte be so boolde, ich wol by thy leeve present myn humble translacioun of thy noble werke. Of thy masterie, ich confess, it be but a pale refleccioun; yet ich haue hope that it moore honour thee with sentence and solaas thanne certeyne otheres thou mayst haue seene.
    ***
    When April’s sweet showers drench March’s dry roots,
    And bathe every vine in the power
    Of the rainy liqueur that brings forth as its fruit
    The blossom and bloom of the flower;
    When the West Wind as well, with his fragrant bouquet,
    Breathes life through the woodlands and heather
    Into budding green leaves, and the young sun’s halfway
    Through the Ram, bringing warmth to the weather;
    And small songbirds twitter melodious tunes
    (For so nature pricks them to revel)
    And sleep open-eyed by the light of the moon,
    Then folks feel a longing to travel,
    And pilgrims to seek along strange foreign shores
    Distant shrines known in many far lands;
    And if they’re in England, they all go, of course,
    To the holiest place that they can:
    From every shire’s corner and every shire’s end,
    Their goal is the same—Canterbury—
    To search out the Saint who had helped them to mend
    When they suffered in sickness so weary.
    In just such a season I lay at an inn
    Called the Tabard, in Southwark one day,
    With a heart full of spirit, and set to begin
    On my pilgrimage Canterbury way,
    When that evening there came to this handsome hotel
    A company twenty-nine strong
    Of various strangers who all by chance fell
    Into friendship while riding along;
    For all them were pilgrims, Saint Thomas to laud,
    And here they had stopped to take rest,
    And the stables were wide, and the bedrooms were broad,
    And the food and the drink were the best.

    ***
    (Ich haue wrytten moore thanne thysse, yf anie oon hath interresste.)

    Yr. svt.,
    David R. Porterfield

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  3. Thanks for inventing the English iambic pentmeter, chief. Could we have endured another seven centuries of nothing but alliterative long lines and Gowerian octosyllabics?

    *shudder*

    Happy April, and Happy (pilgrimage) Trails.

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  4. I teach BritLit to high school seniors, and I adore this website!

    Question: What's your take on Boccaccio?

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  5. Whilom saith Phil Christman (a student in myn You classe) that "Lak of Stedfastnesse" semed hym lyk a country-westren songe. So makede hym a lusty tune.

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  6. This is not a joke. This was my genuine resignation letter.

    How to ask for a P45

    What did they expect if I'd got a better offer in March and wanted to start there in April?

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  7. Alas, I won't be teaching again till October. It's at least as cruel as April, so I think it might still count!

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  8. I would love to encourage readership, but postings once-a-quarter are just not "happenynge".

    Will keep checking, and hope you regain your muse, (and have time and strength to cane that muse silly)!

    Warmest regards...

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  9. Gode Maistre Chavcer, mighte uue nat preuaile vpone thee to uurite opon thine blogge more oft?

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  10. Gentil Galfridus, did I but haue a marketplace or churchyarde handie, I wud thyn horn tootle to all enginyres y-gathered therein. Carry on blogging, I prithee!

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  11. Maistre Chaucier

    I wol humble lette avyse thee of myn owen newe blogue whyche longeth unto thyne ensaumple that thou mayst rede here

    http://maloryprisonblogge.blogspot.com/

    and if thou woldest

    Syr Th Malleore, knt

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  12. Mr. Chaucer: I just wanted to throw my kudos atop the heap o' praise piled up here. Big fan of your work and more recently your blog. I've long admired your way with the letter "e," in particular. Moste wordes juste looke bettere with an "e" on thee ende of them!

    Anyway, you're the man! Well done!

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  13. This blog is fantastic, I love it.

    I'd really like to see more of David Porterfield's 'translation' as is in part posted under this entry. Clicking on his link, though, only informs me that the profile is private... So if he sees this, maybe he could contact me at ahol4130@mail.usyd.edu.au. It's beautiful reading.

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  14. Mr. Chaucer, I love you and I want your squat, little, horse-riding, pilgrimage-making babies. xxx


    http://missmedieval.blogspot.com/

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  15. Ich thynkke Maistre Chaucere is nae maere...

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  16. Great job!!!! It's really very useful for anybody who studies Middle English!

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  17. Perhapps thy Readers woud enjoye a more modern Englishe, as well as some savvie Wit and Satire.

    Please visitt:

    valleyoftheshadwells.blogspot.com

    Thankee!

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  18. hanc linguam pernovam me turbat. quare cum bonam linguam latinam nostrorum maiorum non manetis?

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  19. why do I bother checking anymore? Maister Chaucer, where beest thou?

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  20. Sorry you punked out and killed the site like this.

    It was a grand theme, a worthy enterprise and deserved better than a neglected death.

    Shame.

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  21. Is it 1400 already? Maistre Chaucer? Hullo?

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  22. Damn it, Chaucer, come back already. I neglect my blog too, but who cares? I'm not freaking Chaucer! I could write this message in real Ynglysshe, and maybe I'd be more convincing if I did, but instead, I think I'll just scream a bit in our modern, decadent tongue. What is wrong with you? Here we all sit, waiting anxiously for the Funniest Man on Earth (Dead or Alive) to throw us some sort of bone-like object, and nothing...since the symbolically appropriate day of April 1. Hast thou lost thy poetry? Maistre Chaucer, we are depending on you to make our lives less bleak and more full of puns and silly references to swyving. How freaking queynt that you have abandoned us like this. I shall storm the libraries! I shall write sad, worried comments about you online! I shall pout! I shall tell my students I don't like you any more!

    *Fumes*

    Maistre Chaucer, please come back. We miss you, even if some of us like yelling at you as well.

    ReplyDelete
  23. How Do We Tell Ourselves the Truth?July 9, 2008 at 4:16 AM

    Dear God...what if...? No, I shall not join those of you who have gone there! Geoff is CLASSIC, dudes--timeless and ever timely, so pass he cannot!

    ReplyDelete
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