For the past few years the shibboleth of the pundits and pontificators has been "story-telling." Every time I hear the word I cringe because I always wonder how many of the people who use it have ever actually read a story.
Last night, I picked up a new translation of one of the oldest stories of all. Peter Akcroyd's superb prose translation of Chaucer's "The Canterbury Tales." I haven't read Chaucer since college--I'll admit, he was always my favorite, way moreso than Shakespeare, who everyone takes too seriously.
It's all there. It's as filthy as "Gossip Girl." As wise as a good therapist. And full of strength, humor, battles, intrigues and more. In short, it's pretty damn close to an apotheosis.
Yeah, it's a bear of a book. But, man, it's a beautiful thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment