Journal 4

5 February 2026

One of the things I did not have a chance to discuss in our seminar about Margery Kempe was the boldness with which she drew parallels between her experience and those recorded in scripture, particularly because many of the moments in scripture she echos are the experiences of men, and she, of course, was a woman and a layperson to boot. While the question of translation of both Kempe's book and the Bible making the word choice debatable is very much in my mind, I found some of the parallels distinct. 

In Chapter 6, for example,"the creature fell down on her knees with great reverence and great weeping and said, 'I am not worthy, my lady, to do you service,' (Kempe 22) which strongly resembles the exchange between the faithful centurion and Jesus in Matthew 8:8, who declared he was not worthy that Jesus should enter under his roof, and John the Baptist's announcement that one was coming after him whose sandal strap he was not worthy to undo (Mk 1:7). Be the comparison either the faithful centurion or John the Baptist himself, it seems it would have been audacious, if not downright foolhardy, of Kempe to compare herself to these worthy men of the Gospel. 

Again, perhaps these comparisons are a stretch, but if not, some other parallels Kempe establishes must have been nearly heretical, as I think it may be fair to infer that the medieval church would not handle a laywoman writing in her life story parallels to Jesus himself. Once again in Ch. 6, for example, St. Anne says to Kempe "follow me---I am well pleased with your service," (Kempe 22), which strongly echoes the words of God the Father in Matthew's account of the Baptism of Jesus, wherein a voice from the heavens calls Jesus his beloved son, with whom he is well pleased (Mt 3:17). Beyond similar words said to Kempe, later narrative details of Kempe's experiences also resemble those of Jesus. In Ch. 15, for example, Kempe is questioned by local religious authorities, and through the grace of Jesus, "her answers pleased the Bishop very much, and the clerks were astonished that she answered so readily and pregnantly," (Kempe 38--39), very similarly to the events in Luke's story of the boy Jesus in the temple whose answers astounded the learned religious around him (Lk 2:47). Finally, of our readings, I noted how Kempe's arrival in Jerusalem specifies how she arrived riding on an ass (Kempe 70), which is a direct, indisputable reference to Jesus' triumphant entry in Jerusalem riding on an ass (Mt. 21:1-7, Mk 11:1-7, Lk 19:28-35, Jn. 12:14). 

Perhaps I have overstated these similarities in the words of Kempe and the Gospels, but if they are true, perhaps this blurring of the lines delineating women from men of faith were an exacerabting addition to Kempe's already 'threatening' existence to the male religious leaders of England. While, of course, Kempe also lends particular attention on Mary and Mary Magdalene in her book, these instances particularly stood out to me as parallels that must have been particularly unusual for a lay woman to be drawing in the late medieval period. Ultimately, the men of the Gospels with whom Kemp draws parallels with her own life were the reasoning for the Church to grant only men paths to religious authority. Kempe must therefore have been either very brave or very foolish to assert herself as having such experiences that echoed those of the notable men of the Gospel, including, but not limited to Jesus himself. How Kempe got printed rather than burned for heresy must be its own fascinating story. 

Journal 2

22 January 2026

Shifting from Gawain and the Green Knight to The Canterbury Tales, I have noticed a shift in the depth of characterization. Being more well-versed in literature from approximately Shakespeare and later, reading the earlier Aurthurian tale felt more like seeing archetypes and symbolic figures moving through an allegory more than reading a story with complex characters as I find in later novels. Although Gawain had his one moment of weakness, he otherwise appeared to be a young, idealistic, and nearly perfect model of a chivalric knight. This flatness of character is a symptom, I presume, of the genre and the style of the time, but I find myself more interested already in the pilgrims on their way to Canterbury. 

Even in the general prologue, Chaucer reveals each pilgrim is not exactly as they seem, laying out their position, their appearance, and their flaws. Although these characters are literal archetypes, with approximately none of the pilgrims having a name that is not their primary occupation or otherwise their place in society, I find most of the pilgrims to have more complexity in their character. The men and women of faith and justice are often greedy and even lustful, and every other character is running something like a ponzi scheme on their superiors. One of the characters I found most interesting was the Prioress is described more like a noblewoman in disguise with her well-fed purse dogs than a cloistered nun. With only a few pilgrims excepted due to very brief introductions or explicit descriptions of their goodness, such as in the cases of the Parson and his brother, the Plowman, Chaucer's wayward characters are already more complex and interesting to me than Gawain's more perfectly heroic character.