The Good Wife of Bath

by Karen Brooks

  However, in Southwark the laws were far more flexible. Here, on the south bank of the Thames, ‘bathhouses’, mostly erected in the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester and run by the Flemish, flourished. They became known as ‘The Stews’ and the women who plied their trade as ‘Winchester Geese’. While the laws were laxer this side of the river, there were still rules by which the women had to abide. I can strongly recommend Martha Carlin’s amazing and erudite book Medieval Southwark for details surrounding not just prostitution, but all trades and the way in which life there differed from that in London.

  Before my Alyson became a bawd, however, she was known (as in the poem) for her talent with wool and weaving. All references to sheep, their husbandry, wool, the trade, the dependence on alien merchants, the Staple and the way deals were done in those days are accurate. Likewise, the reluctance, if not downright refusal, of the guild to admit women, even experienced and talented ones. This was a rule that was by no means exclusive to the trades of weaving and fulling. One has only to read The Brewer’s Tale/ The Lady Brewer of London to know this as well – the book where Alyson, the bawd, first features.

  All references to the plague, including the dates of outbreaks, are accurate. Known as the Botch or ‘the Great Sickness’, the terms ‘Black Death’ and even ‘plague’ were applied much later. That I wrote many of those scenes while the world was in lockdown with Covid-19 added to the frisson. Likewise, weather patterns, crop failures and famine, politics, wars, major figures such as mayors, nobility, rich merchants, etc. are all taken from history.

  So too was the Peasant’s Revolt, led by Wat Tyler, and what happened as a consequence of the ‘commons’ marching on London Bridge and meeting with their young sovereign. The working classes were betrayed by their king and his nobles, quelled with false assurances. Their ability to rally and have a united voice must have worried the gentry. This peasant unity only came about because of the changes wrought by the Black Death of 1348–1350. History has recorded how so many deaths, of low- and high-born, changed the social landscape, bequeathing those who had no power a little, which they grasped and, slowly, turned to their advantage. Post the plague (and every subsequent outbreak, which was about every twenty years), there were more upheavals and changes to once rigid social structures. This gradually saw the end of the villeins and ‘boon-work’ and better wages and overall conditions for poor freemen and others. The poem ‘Piers Plowman’ by William Langland, mentioned in the novel, describes conditions. Likewise, the incident on London Bridge when the young Queen was welcomed to London really happened; a number of people were crushed, fell off the bridge and lost their lives in their eagerness to see the King’s new bride.

  I should also add that those of you who’ve read The Brewer’s Tale/ The Lady Brewer of London might recognise some characters who make an appearance in the latter half of the book – and not just Alyson. There’s also Oriel, Leda, Yolande, Master Stephen atte Place, Marcian Vetazes and young Harry. Harry Frowyk is based on a real person. According to records, Master Harry (Henry) Frowyk becomes Lord Mayor of London not once, but twice – from 1435–1436 and again in 1444–1445. So, from inauspicious beginnings, Harry finds success under Alyson’s guidance (and Anneke’s – but that’s another story). Harry Bailly was also a real person as well as the innkeep of the Tabard in Southwark and a friend of Chaucer’s.

  I always enjoy placing women back into history, demonstrating, albeit through researched fiction, that while they may not be recorded or remembered in the same way as their male counterparts, they were there. Herstory happened too. The omission of women from history doesn’t mean they didn’t live it, nor that they didn’t influence it. But just as we forget that to our detriment, so too it’s a mistake to think women fighting for their rights is exclusive to contemporary times. Many women have, over time, fought to be recognised as more than simply walking wombs, the ‘weaker vessel’, good only for sating men’s desires, ‘feeble-minded’, penis-less poor copies of men, responsible for the Fall, men’s inability to control their urges, and so much more. What’s true about the past is that women didn’t have the freedoms, education or ability to fight for their rights the way we continue to today. One has only to look at the evidence, whether it’s Cleopatra, Boadicea, Joan of Arc, Mary Magdalene, Elizabeth the First, Margery Kemp, Chaucer’s Alyson, to catch glimpses of those who knew they deserved better – if not authority, then at least respect and, one day, equality. These women – some powerful, but many not – would have striven in their own way, that is, used their wiles and more to achieve a degree of autonomy and a voice – one so loud and powerful, we still hear it today.

  In order to write Eleanor/Alyson’s story, I relied on a great many books, historical records, poems, articles by historians and scholars, past and current, contemporary sources wherever possible and so much wonderful creative work, too. Following are just some of those to whom I owe a debt of gratitude, and whose scholarship and insights I am in awe of.

  First and foremost, I used The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer (both in Middle English and the fabulous translation by Neville Coghill); The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale edited by Valerie Allen and David Kirkham; The Wife of Bath’s Tale edited by Steven Croft; The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale: Notes by JA Tasioulas.

  In order to get a sense of women in the era, I read a range of books including Chaucer’s Women: Nuns, wives and Amazons by Priscilla Martin; Medieval Women: A social history of women in England 450–1500 by Henrietta Leyser; The Ties that Bound by Barbara Hanawalt; Common Women: Prostitution and sexuality in medieval England by Ruth Mazo Karras; London: A travel guide through time by Dr Matthew Green; London Life in the Fourteenth Century by Charles Pendrill; John Stow’s A Survey of London in two volumes.

  Biographies of Chaucer included: The Poet’s Tale: Chaucer and the year that made The Canterbury Tales by Paul Strohm; the magnificent Chaucer: A European life by Marion Turner; and Chaucer by Peter Ackroyd.

  To immerse myself in medieval London and England, I read: London in the Age of Chaucer by AR Myers; Chaucer’s People by Liza Picard; The Time Traveller’s Guide to Medieval England by Ian Mortimer; Daily Life in Chaucer’s England by Jeffrey L Forgeng and William McLean; The Middle Ages Unlocked: A guide to life in medieval England 1050–1300 by Gillian Polack and Katrin Kania; Medieval Domesticity: Home, housing and household in medieval England edited by Maryanne Kowaleski and PJP Goldberg; Life in the Middle Ages by Martyn Whitlock; England in the Age of Chaucer by William Woods; Everyday Life in Medieval Times by Marjorie Rowling; Everyday Life in the Middle Ages by Sherrilyn Kenyon; Medieval Southwark by Martha Carlin; Forensic Medicine and Death Investigation in Medieval England by Sara M Butler.

  In order to portray what happened on medieval pilgrimages, I read the following: Pilgrimages: The great adventure of the Middle Ages by John Ure; Pilgrimage in Medieval England by Diana Webb; The Pilgrim’s Journey: A history of pilgrimage in the Western world by James Harpur.

  Likewise, I watched countless documentaries, dramas and read so many wonderful works of fiction set in this era – please see my website karenrbrooks.com for reviews.

  Naturally, anything perceptive and clever is entirely due to these authors and creators’ diligence and talent, and any mistakes, I humbly apologise for – they’re my own. Either that, or I made them deliberately and cry ‘fiction’.

  While the Wife of Bath’s voice is granted to her by a man, it’s no reason not to listen to what she has to say. It’s also what makes her so interesting. As the scholars still argue – was she simply a ventriloquist’s dummy? Or was Chaucer giving the women of his time a platform, offering something more than what folk of the Middle Ages expected from the female sex? Was he being ironic? Was it satire? And if so, who was he satirising? Men? Women? Marriage? All of the above? Even the scholars the Wife quotes in the poem begin to look a little foolish when she applies her logic to their arguments. That would have been a bitter pill for many at the time to swa
llow, but it also caused a great deal of amusement, anger, and everything in between.

  These questions have long fascinated me and I began thinking of what life might have been like for someone like the Wife of Bath – taking into account the major moments of the poem, but also placing her within lived history, respecting the strictures imposed by her age, sex, the liberties or otherwise marriage may have granted her, and recreating an amazing, complicated life. I wondered, if she could tell her own story, what might she tell us? How might she tell it? And above all, what is her story?

  I hope I’ve done her justice.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I love writing this part: it’s the bookend to a labour of love, to all the sweat, tears, agonising over plotlines, sleepless nights and rotten days where the words just won’t cooperate, or fabulous ones when they flow in torrents. This, even while I live in fear I’ll miss someone important out. In case that happens, I’m commencing my acknowledgements with an apology. As I’ve said before, if I have left you out of these pages, you’re not excluded from my heart.

  Like all my other novels, this one couldn’t have been written without the support, kindness, generosity and love of so many people, many of them unaware of how much their encouragement, patience, occasional query about progress, texts, messages, invitations to dinner or drinks, and ability to help me shed my self-doubt mean. Even during the surreal isolation and slow restoration to a new ‘normal’ that’s been the aftermath of Covid-19, people still reached out to me and Stephen, my husband, and I love them for it. Now I’ve the chance to publicly thank you all.

  First, I want to thank my wonderful Australian agent, Selwa Anthony, who from the moment I told her I wanted to write a sort of prequel to The Brewer’s Tale/The Lady Brewer of London by writing about the brothel madam, Alyson, was on board. She encouraged me, as she always does, and even though she was going through some very dark times, she always made the effort to call or text and make sure I was creating and not sinking into a Covid-induced isolation inertia (and my heart goes out to all of those who found they did). Thank you, Selwa – you’re my dearest friend as well as agent and I’m blessed you’re in my life.

  I also want to thank my US agents, Jim Frenkel and Catie Pfeifer, who, as always, have been as enthusiastic about this book as they have all my others – and during a fraught time for them as they experienced the double-whammy of Covid and the US 2020 election and its unprecedented aftermath in 2021. Thank you so very much, both of you – you are (my) champions! Jim, especially, would often write amazing emails full of information, humour and blasts of encouragement.

  Then, there’s my gorgeous, clever publisher, Jo Mackay from HQ/HarperCollins. What can I say? When she phoned me up after reading an unedited version of this manuscript, bubbling with enthusiasm, laughing at some of my wife’s antics, weeping at others, all the while appreciating and understanding what I was trying to accomplish, as well as entering into deep discussions about Eleanor’s age, the historical context and the events that occur and how it’s important to be true to the women and the era, it meant the world. She raised my spirits – as you always do, Jo, and I cannot thank you enough for being you and for ‘getting’ this book.

  Likewise, my wonderful editor, Linda Funnell. Linda knows my work so well by now and what I’m seeking to say – not always successfully. Whether it’s a word, a phrase or a (contentious) plot point, Linda always knows how to put it the way I meant, to iron out the creases. She sees the holes that need filling and altogether makes my work so much smoother and thus better. I love working with you, I appreciate everything you do so much (and don’t tell you enough) and thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Same to the joyous and talented Annabel Blay, my other editor who oversees everything and allays my fears, doubts and anxieties (there were quite a few with this book!) and is so damn sensible, wise and kind and just amazing. Thank you.

  To the rest of the team at HQ/HarperCollins – especially Natika Palka, Eloise Plant, Jo Munroe and Rejinder Sidhu – thank you. I also want to say a very special thank you to the incredibly talented Michaela Alcaino for the absolutely gorgeous cover. The first time I saw it, I was utterly speechless. I could not have imagined a more perfect jacket for Eleanor/Alyson’s story. I reckon even Chaucer would be delighted.

  To my publishers in the US, UK and Canada, William Morrow, especially, Rachel Kahan and the wonderful team in editing, design and marketing, thank you for your faith in me and my work and for giving it such a great home.

  Then there’s my most cherished of friends, Kerry Doyle. When Kerry, her husband Peter Goddard, my husband Stephen, and I all travelled to the UK together in 2017, I dragged them to Bath. We’d just spent time in London and though Bath wasn’t strictly where they wanted to go, they came anyway. I’d been there before back in 2014, but wanted to shore up a sense of the place where my Eleanor and Alyson would one day preside. Fortunately, they loved it as much as I did. While traces of medieval Bath are hard to find, they are there, but it was the overall ambience and magnificence of the place (that, and some great food and drinks in The Raven, which appears in the novel as The Corbie’s Feet) that kept us content and in awe. Always tolerant and supportive of my digressions in order to research, there’s no-one I’d rather travel with than these fabulous, funny, clever, easy-to-get-along-with best buddies. Thank you.

  Kerry is also one of my beta-readers. I’ve said this before, but I really mean it – it takes a very special person to be willing to undertake such a role. To read a work-in-progress and give feedback honestly to an (over) sensitive writer is a huge ask. Kerry is an experienced reader and a discerning one – we share our reading tastes and exchange books all the time, often sharing the same views about them. Yet, when it comes to my work, I trust her to be both brutally frank and kind when she reads. She is all that and so much more, which is a testimony to the wonderful woman she is and our longstanding friendship, which I value more than words can ever say. Thank you, Kerry, my lovely, my soul-sister.

  Thanks to you, too, Peter, for your love, friendship and support and for being so much a part of this tale and the ones we’re still creating together!

  Thanks too, to my Hobart friends – you are always so supportive and interested in my work, even if it’s feigned, and I love you for that too. Whether it’s Stephen Bender who, while he was stuck in Tassie during lockdown, became even more a part of our family than ever, and saw me having literary (as opposed to literal) meltdowns over the direction the book was taking and still loves me! Thanks too, to our beautiful neighbours, Bill, Lyn and Jack Lark, for the many conversations, laughs, drinks, meals and so much more. Also, thanks to Mark Nicholson and Robin Mclean for your unerring support. Then, there’s someone else I share my love of reading with (and exchange ‘must reads’), the incomparable Luci (Lucinda) Wilkins and her gorgeous partner, Simon Thomson – thanks to both of you for the food, drinks, chats, laughs, and all else that comes with a great friendship – oh, and the puppy pics! Thanks too to Clinton and Rosie Steele who always remember to ask what I’m writing and, when it’s published, to read it too.

  To the lovely Robbie (the Glaswegian Taswegian) and his beautiful wife and my friend, Emma Gilligan, and wee Harvey, thank you.

  To my most special friends, with whom I share political diatribes (there were a few of those over the last couple of years, let me tell you), joy in images, poems, films and books as well as celebrating each other’s triumphs and mourning the setbacks, Professor Jim McKay, Dr Helen Johnston, Dr Liz Ferrier, Professor David Rowe, Professor Malcolm McLean, Professor Mike Emmison, Dr Janine Mikosa (a superbly talented writer), and Linda Martello, thank you.

  I also wish to thank (though they might not know it, they have been a great support and presence), Catherine Miller (my oldest buddy – as in, we’ve known each other since we were eleven and twelve), Dr Frances Thiele, Grant Searle, Fletcher Austin, Dr Lisa Hill, Sheryl Gwyther, Dannielle Miller, Mark Woodland, Mimi McIntyre, Gav Jaeger
and Jason Greatbatch (who also kept me so entertained with their stories, beautiful pics, and wonderful company – and their furbies), Mick and Katri DuBois, Trevor Dale and Jeff Francombe, Professor Kim Wilkins, and my lovely stepmum Moira Adams.

  I also want to give a special – thanks is not the right word – acknowledgement to my brother, Peter Adams, who at the time of writing is still with us but, sadly, not for much longer. It’s been a rocky road, an incredibly bumpy one for him and those who care about him. Sorry, for this, I just don’t have the words.

  I also want to thank the IASH at the University of Queensland where I am an honorary senior research consultant.

  Thanks also to the talented Tony Mak and Sharn Hitchins for their wonderful music and friendship over the years and who, when they play at the brewstillery, give us and others such joy.

  I also really want to thank my readers. Where would I be without you? I am so grateful to you for the shout-outs, reviews, the contact and for picking up my books and telling others about them. Same with the booksellers and librarians, the custodians of stories – the matchmakers of the imagination – the gatekeepers of culture – thank you, each and every one of you wherever you are in this crazy, magnificent world.