A Student's Modern Canterbury Tale

So, for my student teaching I am working with an honors English 12 class, which is British literature. Inevitably for the class we had to cover The Canterbury Tales, an iconic and important text to the development of British literature and the English language. To sort of tie up the unit I had the students write their own modern tale or prologue, using modern day pilgrims, in the style of Chaucer; in their groups one student was the host and had to write a general prologue and epilogue about their pilgrimage and different members, and the remaining students were pilgrims that each told a prologue, tale, and epilogue. With these pieces from each member, the group's goal was to create a frame story using iambic pentameter and rhyming couplets-- again modeling Chaucer's style exactly. Not all students did this assignment, and those who did struggled with the iambic pentameter (even though they were still entertaining and creative). However, one group excelled. Their frame story was excellent, all of their pieces were coherent and dependent on each other, they met the correct format and style, and they were entertaining. Below is my favorite tale that a student produced. The boy who wrote it is extremely smart-- and he wrote this in a class and a half! He has everything-- a cohesive prologue to his pilgrim, his pilgrim's tale, and an epilogue, all while using iambic pentameter, rhyming couplets, and even incorporating satire. I have read this tale at least 3 to 4 times already, and I think you will enjoy it too! Chaucer would be a proud, proud man, I do believe! Well, at least I think he would be.

The Fish-and-Chip-Shop Owner’s Tale

Prologue

And so we begin: It was all a dream

I kid, Biggie quotes are not what I mean.

But I have it on good authority,

Of our host; our token minority.

So us four are now off to the Far East,

And we must protect ourselves from great beasts,

For India can be a scary place:

An elephant once poo’d on a guy’s face.

But let us eat first; I shall have an orange.

And I do not know what can rhyme with orange.

The Tale

It was a jolly day in merry Kent,

Which was where this man lived, most his time spent.

He lived in a castle, his clothes were best;

Your typical Englishman, like the rest.

He woke up one morn and put on slippers;

He found his penguin and stroked his flippers.

Why, you may ask, he had a penguin pet:

Because penguins can’t fly, unlike a jet.

“What-ho! Good show! Top of the morning, Jeeves!”

Said to his butler, who bowed to his knees.

“It’s time for tea,” he said, and soon enough.

The kettle was on, yet there was no stuff.

“What is this, old bean!” he said to the man.

“I know not, sir, but I shall fetch your fan.”

“Silence,” said our friend, who was quite cross now,

“I need not a fan, for I’m having a cow

“Over this predicament, I can’t take

“This darn bloody madness, for heaven’s sake!

“Now go fetch the carriage, post-haste with you,

“And ring the constable, he shall help us too!”

So the quest began, two men and their steed.

And off to London, to finish this deed.

The goal of which was to find them some tea,

But before they left, they had to watch Glee.

For, you see, our hero, a knightly man

Did like musicals, he was a great fan.

Once they reached the city, they looked around:

Not a tealeaf there for less than a pound.

But then he thought, and think – hardly – he did,

Of a place all Brits knew of, even kids.

It was Buckingham Palace! Of all places.

And he walked to the gates and saw the faces

Of the guards, to whom he said, “’ello, guv!”

And they let him in, without push or shove.

“Your majesty!” he shouted with all force,

But unfortunately, she was on horse

Outside the palace, so, instead, with care,

He found the kitchen without a slight scare.

He took some tea with the speed of a boy,

And thusly our hero’s tale ends with joy.

Epilogue

There, my friends, this tale of mine is finished,

And my character was not diminished.

And neither yours, because, as you can see:

Not even you are as crazy as he!

To steal from the Queen, a very bad deed.

And tea an Englishman needs, just like tweed.

For as we approach our destination,

Let us hope there is no infestation

Of people who think like my tale’s hero.

Man, people like that are total zeros.