Chaucer's overly blatant satire of the Prioress in the general prologue is undeniable. With so much emphasis on his misplaced ideals, the words scream of something terribly wrong. A cursory examination reveals a woman seriously out of touch with reality and the faith she professes to represent. With this powerful representation in mind, the following tale must be interpreted with the character in mind. Based on this, I will try to argue that Chaucer deliberately used the tale as an extension of the Prioress. His portrait challenges the foundations of his religious order and his tale ultimately represents a religion that challenges its own principles. The subtlety involved in discerning the latter increases because it not only challenges the Prioress' beliefs but also extends to questioning the priorities of her audience's faith. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay On its own, The Prioress's Tale does not differ drastically from the standard miracle of the Virgin. But the reader must always be aware of Chaucer, the author, and his attempts to expand the English language. Because when his story is seen in correlation with his description, almost every aspect of him takes on a new identity. And with gentle mockery of her in the prologue, Chaucer - the narrator - makes sure to clearly expose the superficiality of his exalted sister. The opening six lines mark the only time she is completely free of ironic overtones; the remaining majority advance their character through gentle satire. Chaucer's delicate use of language only serves to increase the reader's understanding of the Prioress in this satire. For he elegantly constructs his persona, then comically undermines it with a singular and impartial truth: "And Frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly, / For Frenssh of Parys had to assume unknowe" (ll. 124,126), "A mete wel ytagged was she with alle;/... In curteisie was set ful muchel hir lest./...And peyned rent to countrefete cheere/ Of court, and to been estatlich of manere,..." (ll.127-141), " ...She was so charitable and so pitiful/ She would cry, if a mous laughed/ Caught in a trap,..." (ll. 142-150). The disappointment reinforces the idea that the Prioress is trying to be someone she is not. Its picturesque beauty is also subject to flaws: it is "nat undergrowe". Although he never criticizes her, Chaucer makes it obvious that the Prioress is disillusioned by the fashionable lady's delicate ways. His exaggerated empathy and lust for social ascent ruin his image as a servant of God. Perhaps more influential on the connection than mockery is the phrase with which Chaucer concludes his sketch: "Amor vincit omnia." By choosing this ambiguous Latin idiom to conclude his intriguingly flawed portrait, he creates a lingering question mark that resonates throughout his tale. While “amor” improbably stands for sensual love (brotherly or heavenly love seem more appropriate), the vague nature of the word allows the mind to wander until introduced into its tale. When this happens, the translation is meaningless, since the adage has much more importance: it directly opposes the substance of its story. With the reader still reflecting on the portrayal of the Prioress, Chaucer reinforces her portrait twice before his tale begins. The first example arises from Harry Bailly's excessive condescension: ...and with that word she said, as politely as if she had been a mayde, "My Lady Prioresses, on your level, so that I know that yow nat greve, I Wolde demen that you will tell him a story, if so that youI wanted. Now, do you want voucke sauf, my lady? (ll.445-451) The repetition of these declarations of submission (by the Host of all people) is no doubt intended to mock his supposed tall stature and insistence on good manners. The other distinctive trait emerges at the end of his invocation to Mary. Equating yourself to "a child twelve months old or younger" essentially states that their understanding of the story that follows is limited, if any. And while she prays only for guidance from the “blessed Queen,” her aforementioned inability to perceive seems to guarantee divine intervention in her story. So his song presumably can do no wrong. At this point in the argument we need to once again examine the ubiquity of the author Chaucer. Any yarn could have been chosen for The Prioress' Tale. The fact that the Virgin's miracles were popular at the time only reiterates why the story was chosen for her: she had a reputation to uphold. The concordance with its analogues further shifts the focus of the story. Chaucer did not have to change the plot, because it coincides with the narrator. This unedited tale is precisely the model story that a character with such temperaments would tell. The meaning is now contained in the voice and character of the Prioress. A reading of the story quickly resolves two of the lingering questions that remain from before. The help requested by the Prioress is nowhere to be found; his story is full of bigotry and would border on blasphemy if it weren't for his incredible ineptitude at understanding his own words. This blindness leads to another crucial flaw that once again mocks his ignorance. “Amor vincit omnia,” which she displays so prominently, can be called nothing less than the antithesis of her morals. Love between men is nowhere to be found and the sentencing scene acts as a complete denunciation of the Prioress as a fraud: With torment and with shameful deeth echon, This provost causes these Jews to sterve That of this modre wiste, and the next. no curses observed. "Yvele will get what yvele deserves"; then with wild horses he hemmed, and after that heng heng from the law. (ll.628-634)This passage is so brutal and contrary to the doctrines of Christianity that one wonders how it became so widely accepted. Chaucer apparently wondered this too. With further in-depth examination of the text, the last part of the link is completed. The foundation of the analogous plot fits perfectly when placed in the context of the Prioress. Given his affinity for the courtly, the high rhyming scheme (seen elsewhere only in The Man of Law's Tale) would indeed gratify the ears of his "humble" companions. Likewise the collective association of Christians with exorbitant goodness and Jews with abominable meanness is explained by his overly emotional disposition. The selectivity of his language attracts the pathos of readers and makes his truth even more difficult to resist. Because the repetition of "light" and "innocent" in describing the "priest" and the exaggeration of the mother's reaction when she cannot find her lost son naturally arouses sympathy. And in the only notable digression from the analogues, the Prioress' son is seven years old and not ten or older. She carefully makes sure to underline this, as evidenced by the use of commas: "a little priest, seven years old" (l. 503). The allusions to the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and the mention of Hugh of Lincoln were sentiments that no doubt struck almost every listener. When these thrilling depictions merge with the atrocious satanic behavior of the entire Jewish community (the entire text is a sufficient example), the.