Merchant’s reading of Book I of “The House of Fame”

As a man of commerce and therefore occupied by time, I sincerely regret my inability to meet to pay my attendance on the blog when it is due. Not to boast, but although my post is much later than most, I intend to make quite the impression on our host.  Maybe it was the weather, the birds and all that comes with the season.  But excuses are like the assholes, so of course I have one. However mine stinks, just as all the rest. So I’ll attempt to put my yarning to the test.  And weave a post conducted more beautiful than a symphony.  I wish the post to live in infamy.

 

I was intrigued in the most recent reading, of Book one of The House of Fame.  I wonder why our great creator and friend, Chaucer, decided to portray Dido slightly differently than in his Legend of Good Woman, which I have come to enjoy, like this post, later than I would have liked, and that was scheduled on ye olde syllabus. Reguardless of the timing of my reading, I found the content to be most intriguing. Why was Dido’s death more graphic in The House of Fame.  Is all of The Legend of Good Women meant to be gentile and tame?! I certainly doubt such, as the content is highly male-centric.  To save his soul from damnation, perhaps, is why he forwent it. But back to the differences found in the text. Specifically, the lack of blade in Dido’s chest.  For in The Legend of Good Woman Dido is the only woman in the legend, that lacks the description of a sword through her midsection.  Since this is the detail that he seems to want to omit. I wonder why he thinks for all the other women in the legend this fate is fit, and not for sweet Dido.

 

Beyond this slight detail I loved this work.  But my reasons for, you may reason me a jerk.  I think Chaucer was smart and thinking of money.  In adding a chapter to an already successful franchise laid out for him but other epic poets.  Perhaps it is true what they say of good writers stealing. I think I’ll stick to wheel and dealing.

 -Merchant

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One thought on “Merchant’s reading of Book I of “The House of Fame”

  1. Merchant, why must you always check your bank balance instead of working on your great writing talents? It’s certainly rewarding to deal in finances, but that will never make up for a lack of romances! It’s the poets who are to love dedicated that live their lives with emotion, elated. Even though you might have more women because you’re rich, if you aren’t careful, your wife will choose an artist and make the switch, for artists and writers have more loving and gentler natures, and she’ll spoil her new lover with money inherited from your business ventures.

    I can forgive you for being late with The Legend of Good Women on Ye Olde Syllabus, considering I didn’t even bother to finish writing it! I am a bit of a procrastinator and sometimes I lack the motivation to finish the things I started. But, the important thing is to eventually finish it, as they say, “better late than never,” although I tend to just give up when I am frustrated! I love to write and I think I have talent for it, but sometimes I just get so discouraged that my writings don’t come out perfectly and I just give up! Sometimes I wonder why I chose the career of a writer instead of becoming a merchant like you. Fame in the area of literature is often brief, and while I have experienced a bit of recognition, I doubt it will last long. I doubt my imperfect writings will ever go down in history; possibly they will merely be eaten away into obscurity along with the worms consuming my body once I am dead. But, at least I have lived my life honestly and in dedication to the art I am so passionate about, even if their worth is less than the hard value of money.

    The House of Fame was written in a strange state of mind, so maybe that is why the details are a bit different. I had gone for a lovely walk and made the questionable decision to pluck some berries from a neighboring bush and consume them, only to be engulfed by a series of overwhelming hallucinations and delusions. I wish I could find that bush again. Those magical berries were really fun.

    — Chaucer

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