Reviewed by: Desire in the Canterbury Tales by Elizabeth Scala Ben Parsons (bio) Elizabeth Scala. Desire in the Canterbury Tales, Ohio State UP, 2015. x + 225 pp. HB $62.95. isbn 978-0-8142-1278-3. There is an old joke about a mother whose child refuses to speak. Year after year, as its playmates are becoming ever more loquacious, it remains stubbornly silent. She consults with doctors, psychologists, language therapists, all to no avail. Then, one day, after serving the child a meal, she hears it declare: “this soup is cold.” Amazed, she asks the child why it has not spoken before. “Well, everything has been all right until now,” it replies. The idea that desire is the trigger for speech is of course familiar from the work of Jacques Lacan: a central premise of Lacan’s complex, oracular writing is that human beings are driven into the treacherous world of signs out of a sense of ontological lack. It is also the idea underpinning Elizabeth Scala’s study of Chaucer, which offers a full-blooded Lacanian reading of the framework of the Canterbury Tales. Lacan has of course troubled Chaucerians sporadically since his entry into the theoretical pantheon some time ago: in the last couple of decades, Erin Labbie has put the two writers in dialogue with [End Page 351] one another, while the idea of desire as ravenous absence also hovers behind Carolyn Dinshaw’s reading of the Pardoner. Scala goes further than these intermittent references, however. She opens with the bold claim that desire offers a more concrete link between the pilgrims’ stories than the travel narrative Chaucer weaves around them; for her, desire serves as a general operating principle, guiding and directing the disparate voices that take part in the tale-telling contest. Her opening chapter elaborates this thesis further. It offers a whistle-stop tour of Lacan’s system, flagging up points of intersection with Chaucer along the way: the Wife of Bath highlights the dependence of the self on the other; the doubled protagonists of the Knight’s Tale mirror the fractures desire opens in the subject; Chaucer’s illusory verisimilitude shows the impossibility of exiting the symbolic into the Real. While these thumbnail readings do threaten to dissolve into Lacanian (or Chaucerian) fragments at times, there is little doubt that Scala’s ideas are suggestive and convincing. Especially cogent is her focus on the slippage and misrecognition that governs the pilgrim debate. As she states, the Tales’ potentially endless chain of references and responses, with each story inviting a reply that invites further replies, recalls the unceasing referrals of the symbolic order; she also points out that many of the pilgrims voice their reactions after mistakenly seeing themselves in their predecessors’ stories, like an infant standing before the Lacanian mirror. Scala provides, in short, a powerful and persuasive model for understanding Chaucer’s frame narrative, especially since she demands that its raggedness and inconclusiveness be negotiated rather than brushed aside. The following chapters draw out these remarks further, and across the range of genres that Chaucer deploys. First, the logic of desire is examined at greater length in the Knight’s Tale. In Scala’s view, the triangular competition at the heart of the Tale is powered not only by aggression but by profound misapprehension. As she states, the repeated battles of Arcite and Palamon are motivated by fantasy on several levels, as the two knights turn Emelya into a projection of their own desires, and then become enmeshed in “a fantasy of what the other wants, perhaps even envy of what the other might attain” (52). More interestingly still, Theseus’ attempts to contain their violence by converting it into symbolic ritual only serves to amplify it. Theseus opens up a whole mass of substitutions, pitting two armies against each other in place of two knights, magnifying rather than extinguishing the original desire. The second chapter turns to the fabliaux, and especially Oswald, [End Page 352] the Reeve, as a vital hinge in the structure of the Tales. The Reeve proves to be the site of misrecognition par excellence. On the one hand, his story centrally involves mistaken identity, with the circulation...