Memes, typos, and vernacular English in a 12th-century Latin homily

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Before I introduce what to me is one of the most stupendous humanities discoveries I have encountered in the last six decades, I have to explain briefly why it is so exciting.   Namely, here we get to witness the emergence of a few bits of vernacular English in a religiously imbued medieval Latin matrix.  This is exactly how medieval vernacular Sinitic started to appear in the framework of Classical Chinese / Literary Sinitic during the heyday of medieval Buddhism.  Just as in the medieval Christian homilies of Peterhouse MS 255, we see the common (sú 俗) preachers of Dunhuang resorting to vernacular language and popular "memes" in their "transformation texts" (biàn[wén] 變[文]) to keep the attention of their auditors / readers.

I wrote my undergraduate thesis on Geoffrey Chaucer's (d. 1400) Troilus and Criseyde.  That was a long time ago, sixty years, in fact.  Imagine my surprise when I opened the New York Times yesterday and discovered that this medieval romance was back in the news.

900-Year-Old Copyist's Error May Unravel a Chaucer Mystery
The Tale of Wade, twice referred to in Geoffrey Chaucer’s poems, survives only in a tiny fragment. Two academics argue a scribe’s error deepened the confusion around it.
Stephen Castle, NYT (7/15/25)

What's all the fuss about "The Tale of Wade"*?  It seems that two Cambridge scholars at Girton College, Seb Falk and James Wade, after spending three intensive years of research, have solved a thorny textual problem that has bewitched scholars for centuries.

*This Wikipedia article on "Wade (folklore)" contains a rich assemblage of myth and lore stretching back to Old Norse and Old English that reveals the close association of Wade and his boat, with water, sexuality, and fertility.

N.B.:  It is only by coincidence that one of the Cambridge researchers, James Wade, has the same surname as the name of the hero of "The Tale of Wade" dating to a millennium earlier.

Here's a translation of the passage on Wade's boat from Chaucer's "Merchant's Tale":

And bet than old boef is the tendre veel…And eek thise old wydwes, God it woot,They konne so muchel craft on Wades boot, So muchel broken harm, whan that hem leste, That with hem sholde I nevere lyve in reste…

—1.209-14

And better than old beef is tender veal…and also these old widows, God knows it,They can play so much craft on Wade's boat,So much harm, when they like it,That with them should I never live in rest….

It is clear that here Wade's boat is being used as a sexual euphemism.

(from the above cited Wikipedia article)

As presented in the NYT article, the abstruse argumentation and dense documentation of the Falk & Wade paper are difficult for the non-specialist to follow, so I will supplement Castle's account with other materials, starting with the official Cambridge announcement of the seminal Falk-Wade discovery.  A simple version of the announcement may be found here:

Lost English legend decoded, solving Chaucerian mystery and revealing a medieval preacher's meme
Edited by Sadie Harley, reviewed by Andrew Zinin, Phys.org, Science X (2025-07)

Here is the elaborate treatment of the announcement prepared by Tom Almeroth-Williams:

The Song of Wade:  Decoding a lost English legend, solving a Chaucerian mystery, and revealing a medieval preacher’s meme

By Tom Almeroth-Williams, University of Cambridge (7/16/25)

This is a virtuoso demonstration of the achievement of Falk-Wade.  For those who do not have a lot of time to spend on medieval English philology and are not acquainted with its aims and usages, I strongly recommend that you skip to the 4:00 film at the end of Almeroth-Williams' essay.  Here you will hear Seb Falk and James Wade explain lucidly in layman's terms what they have achieved in their technical paper.

Prior to the excellent film, Almeroth-Williams gently guides his reader through the Falk-Wade paper by other means as well, including this introductory summary:

A medieval literary puzzle which has stumped scholars including M.R. James for 130 years has finally been solved.

Cambridge scholars now believe the Song of Wade, a long lost treasure of English culture, was a chivalric romance not a monster-filled epic.

The discovery solves the most famous mystery in Chaucer's writings and provides rare evidence of a medieval preacher referencing pop culture in a sermon.

The breakthrough, detailed in The Review of English Studies, involved working out that the manuscript refers to ‘wolves’ not ‘elves’ [VHM:  this is the "typo" referred to in the title of this post], as scholars previously assumed.

Dr James Wade and Dr Seb Falk, colleagues at Girton College, Cambridge, argue that the precious literary fragment, first discovered by M.R. James at Cambridge in 1896, has been “radically misunderstood” for the last 130 years.

Some choice quotations:

“Here we have a late-12th-century sermon deploying a meme from the hit romantic story of the day,” Seb Falk says. “This is very early evidence of a preacher weaving pop culture into a sermon to keep his audience hooked.”

“Many church leaders worried about the themes of chivalric romances – adultery, bloodshed, and other scandalous topics – so it’s surprising to see a preacher dropping such 'adult content' into a sermon,” Wade explains.

“Lots of very smart people have torn their hair out over the spelling, punctuation, literal translation, meaning, and context of a few lines of text,” says James Wade.

A very attractive feature of Almeroth-Williams' presentation are crystal clear photographs that you can enlarge by gliding over them with your mouse, and then having him (A-W) deftly encircle the critical features of the text with highlighted boxes.  For example, by such means, the names "Wade" and "Hildebrand" (Wade's father) leap off the page.  In another place, we get to see the precise place where the letters "w" and "y" are muddled, so that a word that has been interpreted as "elves" for nearly a thousand years actually was "wolves".

In the next section, "Chaucer and Wade", Almeroth-Williams describes how the authors of the paper on the homily in Peterhouse MS 255 clarify the great medieval poet's invocation of the Song of Wade:

The Song of Wade was hugely popular throughout the Middle Ages. For several centuries, its central character remained a major romance hero, among other famous knights such as Lancelot and Gawain. Chaucer twice evoked Wade in the middle of this period, in the late 1300s, but these references have baffled generations of Chaucer scholars.

At a crucial moment in Troilus and Criseyde, Pandarus tells the ‘tale of Wade’ to Criseyde after supper. Today’s study argues that the Wade legend served Pandarus because he not only needed to keep Criseyde around late, but also to stir her passions. By showing that Wade was a chivalric romance, Chaucer’s reference makes much more sense.

In ‘The Merchant’s Tale’, Chaucer’s main character, January, a 60-year-old knight, refers to Wade’s boat when arguing that it is better to marry young women than old. The fact that his audience would have understood the reference in the context of chivalric romance, rather than folk tales or epics, is significant, the researchers argue.

In the following section, Almeroth-Williams shows how the Cambridge researchers pay more attention to the entirety of the Humiliamini sermon and its usages than previous scholars have.  This is where they identify Alexander Neckam, or one of his acolytes, as the probable author of this homily on humility.

Almeroth-Williams concludes his essay with an extract from the new translation of the sermon referring to Wade:

‘Dear [brothers], as to the fact that he says, ‘humble yourselves’, etc. – it could be considered that humility which is against the mighty hand of God is of a particular kind. For there are three kinds of humility: the humility of guilt; the humility of punishment; and the humility of penance.

Now, by the humility of guilt our first parent [Adam] was so humbled that, although he was made master of the whole world before his sins and ruled over everything that was in the world, after his sin, on the other hand, he could not even defend himself from a worthless worm, that is, from a flea or louse. He who was similar to God before sin, was made dissimilar through sin; since ‘by this poison a rose is sometimes turned into spikenard.’

Thus Adam was, from a human, made as if he was non-human; not only Adam, but almost everyone becomes as if non-humans. Thus they can say, with Wade:

‘Some are wolves and some are adders; Some are sea-snakes that dwell by the water. There is no man at all but Hildebrand.’

Similarly, today some are wolves, such as powerful tyrants, who if they can justly take the things of those subject to them, take them; but if not, [do so] by any means. Some imitate serpents, of which there are three kinds. Others become lions, like the proud ones whom God opposes; enough has been said of pride in the art of preaching. Others are foxes, such as cunning detractors and flatterers who speak with a double heart, who have honey in their mouth but bile in their heart. Others are gluttons like pigs, of whom the prophet says ‘their throats are open graves’; and thus each is judged similarly. Indeed, this humility is bad and perverse.’

Here's the original Latin text, with the tantalizing snippets of Middle English intermixed (in the penultimate paragraph quoted here( :

K[arissimi], hoc quod dicit ‘hu[miliamini] sub po[tenti]’ etc.—potest perpendi quod alia est humilitas que est contra potentem manum Dei. Triplex enim est humilitas: humilitas scilicet culpe; hu[militas] pene; hu[militas] penitentie.

Humilitate autem culpe, in tantum humiliatus est primus parens noster,106 quod cum dominus tocius mundi efficeretur ante peccata et in omnibus que in mundo erant dominaretur, post peccatum uero, a uili uermiculo, scilicet, a pulice siue pediculo se minime potuit defendere. Qui similis fuit Deo ante peccatum per peccatum factus est dissimilis; quia ‘hac [lue] rosa [non]numquam uertitur in saliuncam’.107

Adam itaque de homine factus est quasi non homo; nec tantum Adam, sed omnes fere fiunt quasi non homines. Itaque dicere possunt cum Wade: ‘Summe sende [ƿ]lues & summe sende nadderes; sum[m]e sende nikeres the bi den ƿater [ƿ]unien. Nister man nenne bute ildebrand onne.

Similiter, hodie aliqui sunt lupi, utpote potentes tiranni, qui [176va]108 sibi subditorum res si iuste accipere possunt accipiunt; sin autem quocunque modo. Alii imitantur serpentes, quorum triplex est genus. Alii efficiuntur leones, utpote superbi quibus resistit Deus;109 satis de superbia dictum est in arte predicandi. Alii sunt wlpes, sicut dolosi detractores adulatores qui loquntur in corde et corde,110 qui habent mel in ore fel autem in corde.111 Alii sunt gulosi ut sues, de quibus dicit propheta ‘sepulcrum patens est g[uttur]’;112 et sic de singulis simile habetur iudicium. Hec siquidem humilitas mala est & peruersa.

Now let us turn briefly to the original paper of Falk and Wade:

"The Lost Song of Wade: Peterhouse 255 Revisited"
Seb Falk, James Wade, The Review of English Studies (16 July 2025)

Abstract

Short verses from the Song of Wade survive in an early-thirteenth-century sermon collection found in Cambridge, Peterhouse MS 255. They constitute the only known surviving fragment of a legendary romance that was widely known in medieval and renaissance England but now entirely lost. The fragment was first discovered [VHM:  in 1896] by M. R. James and Israel Gollancz, and since then several scholars have considered the sermon’s English quotation to parse its meaning and speculate on what it says about the ‘Legend of Wade’. Despite such attention, there has been no sustained attempt to situate this fragment in the context of the sermon in which it appears. In this essay we return to Peterhouse MS 255 to re-consider them in light of the sermon in which they are quoted. We offer a new plain-sense meaning of the English fragment and suggest the most likely arrangement of its verse form, both of which animate a fundamental re-thinking of what glimpse these verses can give us into the world of a romance otherwise unknown, and into a lost legend as it was understood by readers and audiences in later medieval England, Geoffrey Chaucer among them. We provide an edition and translation of the full sermon, and analyse the sermon’s contents and composition, suggesting identifications for its sources, origins, and audiences. We also provide fresh analysis of the ways that preachers constructed their sermons, drawing from up-to-date natural philosophy and deploying memes from the world of romance and real-life chivalry.

Conclusion

This essay proposes a new text and translation of the Wade fragment, with all its implications for how we might imagine the world of the lost Song of Wade. It also postulates that the author of this sermon may be none other than Alexander Neckam [1157=1217] himself, and gestures towards an intellectual milieu of creative, even playful experimentation where even English romance, like the flea or the worm, can play a natural role in moral instruction and edification. The richly visual, dramatic descriptions of serpents, lions and wolves, self-abasing knights, and kings in sackcloth, are set in a virtuoso rhetorical performance. It all makes for a captivating effect in an era when sermons served to generate the same depth of emotional response as mass media today.99 And in this genre of medieval media broadcast, we find the Wade legend, like the ‘viral’ account of Hugh of Gournay, deployed as a meme, a compact unit of transmission that freights cultural memory, such as tunes or catch-phrases or clothing fashions.100 If Alexander Neckam, or the Neckam-inspired sermonizer, invokes the Wade legend as a meme, then he is only the first known writer to do so, for it is precisely as a meme that Wade is used in Middle English, from the Bevis-author through Chaucer to Malory.

This new reading of the Wade legend as a chivalric meme has been spurred by an appreciation of its situation in the Humiliamini sermon. By providing an edition and translation of the sermon here, we hope that its intellectual and emotional energy might resonate with other readers in ways that we have not had the time to explore or capacity to understand. (It is, after all, a lesson in humility.) We also hope that this essay goes some way towards illuminating what Jack Bennett considered the best-known crux in Chaucer’s writings. The preferred reading of ‘wolves’ for ‘elves’ dramatically shifts the ground, and invites us to re-imagine the known world of Wade from c.1200 on, from one less germane to Germanic epic than congruent with courtly romance, less invested in the mythological sphere of giants and monsters than in the warring of human chivalric adversaries. Such a shift turns the crux into a crutch of literary memory; it helps make sense of Chaucer’s evocation of Wade at instances of courtly intrigue, in moments of high tension in the world of fin amour. It may be one of Chaucer’s most brazen anachronisms, to have a performance of a Middle English romance resound within the ancient walls of Bronze-Age Troy, but to see the Wade allusion in the Troilus as a pointedly chivalric allusion is to understand it as part and parcel of a broader ‘medievalizing’ project. When the courtiers of Chaucer’s Troy listened to romance to model their own chivalry and steer their own passions, whose romance did they hear? It was Wade’s.

Here is how Stephen Castle of the NYT nicely explicates some of the key points in the Falk-Wade paper:

The fragment seemed to refer to a man alone among elves and other eerie creatures — something from the story of a mythological giant, or of a heroic character like Beowulf who battled supernatural monsters.

That would make it a surprising tale for a romantic go-between to read to a maiden, as happens in Chaucer’s “Troilus and Criseyde,” or to appear as an allusion in one of his “Canterbury Tales” about a wealthy man marrying a younger woman.

The new research, published on Wednesday in Britain in “The Review of English Studies,” suggests that the “elves” sprang from a linguistic error by a scribe, who miscopied a word that should have meant “wolves,” and that Wade in fact belonged to a chivalric world of knights and courtly love — much more relevant to Chaucerian verse.

The new study concludes that the sermon’s scribe confused a runic letter that was still found in Middle English, and pronounced ‘w,’ with the letter ‘y.’ That, it says, turned “wlves” into “ylves.”

“Here were three lines apparently talking about elves and sea monsters which exactly puts you in this world of Beowulf and other Teutonic legends,” said Dr. Wade. “What we realized is that there are no elves in this passage, there are no sea monsters and, in the study of the handwriting, everyone has gotten it wrong until now.”

The research took three years, he said, adding that he believed the error occurred because the scribe was chosen for familiarity with Latin.

“One’s suspicion, although we can’t prove this, is that the reason he messes up the Middle English is because he’s never written English before,” said Dr. Wade.  [VHM:  N.B. !!!!]

The mentions of Wade, the two academics argue, show both the sermon’s author and Chaucer deploying contemporary popular culture to appeal to a wider audience in the way that politicians, artists or preachers still do today.

“The way the poem is quoted in the sermon as a meme — something which was widely understood — tells us something about how ubiquitous it was,” said Dr. Falk.

To me, this is all very familiar, because the same sorts of things were happening in medieval Dunhuang as scribes were trying to forge means to record vernacular with characters that theretofore had only been used for writing Classical Chinese / Literary Sinitic.  Typos aplenty!

Afterword

In the film, Falk and Wade show pages of the manuscript they studied.  It has drawings, some of them colored, of animals that illustrate attributes of human beings / behavior.  One of these drawings is a quite realistic colored rendition of a bovine munching on a bunch of green grass and, at the other end, emitting a huge balloon of green methane gas.  These drawings of animals remind me very much of the Voynich manuscript, which must have been modeled on medieval bestiaries, that we have discussed numerous times on Language Log

 

Selected readings

[Thanks to John J. Tkacik]



24 Comments »

  1. Scott P. said,

    July 20, 2025 @ 11:06 am

    Can a manuscript have a 'typo'?

  2. KevinM said,

    July 20, 2025 @ 11:12 am

    Point taken, but I wouldn't go mano-a-mano over it.

  3. Victor Mair said,

    July 20, 2025 @ 11:18 am

    It would be a lapsus calamus.

  4. Martin said,

    July 20, 2025 @ 12:12 pm

    … calami.

  5. Victor Mair said,

    July 20, 2025 @ 12:35 pm

    Hah!

    That was a lapsus calami!

  6. Dan Rabin said,

    July 20, 2025 @ 3:09 pm

    The eminent philologist J.R.R. Tolkien made a tangential allusion to the former interpretation of Wade in his fantasy work. For a citation to Christopher Tolkien's edition of his father's posthumous oeuvre, see (for example), https://alasnotme.blogspot.com/2019/10/earendil-and-wades-boat-or-what-do-you.html

  7. Barbara Phillips Long said,

    July 20, 2025 @ 6:27 pm

    Regarding the illustration of the bovine flatulence, it’s amazing how defecation has been so thoroughly eliminated from illustrations of animals. Other than signs advising dog owners to clean up after their pets, there are very few depictions of this normal behavior in illustrations and photos.

    Always-on animal cams may be the one place where defecation can be observed — falcon and eagle nest cams show this normal behavior routinely, for instance. Even many field guides are coy about describing defecation. Whether candid video will change depictions in children’s books, illustrations, and other art and photos is yet to be seen.

  8. Tom said,

    July 20, 2025 @ 6:42 pm

    "…emitting a huge balloon of green methane gas."

    Perhaps a defense against cattle raiders.

  9. Victor Mair said,

    July 20, 2025 @ 10:01 pm

    @Tom

    Nice!

  10. Adrian Bailey said,

    July 20, 2025 @ 11:51 pm

    Why are you so certain that "it is only by coincidence that one of the Cambridge researchers, James Wade, has the same surname as the name of the hero of The Tale of Wade"?

  11. Philip Taylor said,

    July 21, 2025 @ 1:55 am

    Barbara — " it’s amazing how defecation has been so thoroughly eliminated from illustrations of animals" — I think that the same might be said of sexual congress, an equally normal behaviour. It would be interesting to discover which of those two (¿ these two ?) is the less frequently depicted.

  12. Victor Mair said,

    July 21, 2025 @ 6:08 am

    @Adrian Bailey:

    "Why are you so certain that 'it is only by coincidence that one of the Cambridge researchers, James Wade, has the same surname as the name of the hero of The Tale of Wade'?"

    I'm not "so certain" of that. If you have evidence to the contrary, a lot of people (including Dr. James Wade) would love to hear it.

  13. Viseguy said,

    July 21, 2025 @ 4:45 pm

    Typo or lapsus calami, clearly the repercussions were … calamitous. Which leads to the question, Is there really a pen-calamity nexus? The OED etymology suggests that the historical linkage may have been adventitious:

    calamity
    (kəˈlæmɪtɪ)
    Also 5–6 calamyte, 6–7 calamitie. [a. F. calamité, f. L. calamitȧt-em (nom. calamitas), damage, disaster, adversity; by Latin writers associated with calamus straw, corn-stalk, etc., in the sense of damage to crops from hail, mildew, etc. But there is difficulty in reconciling this with the force of the suffix, which etymologically could give only some such sense as ‘the quality of being a calamus, reed, or straw’ (cf. cīvitas, auctoritas, bonitas); hence some would refer it to a lost *calamis ‘injured, damaged’, whence incolumis ‘uninjured, sound’.
    Bacon (Sylva §669) thus fancifully etymologized the word ‘Another ill accident is drouth, at the spindling of the corn, which with us is rare, but in hotter countries common; insomuch as the word calamitas was first derived from calamus, when the corn could not get out of the stalke.’
    ]

    Perhaps one day an astute scholar will solve the mystery of the "lost *calamis".

  14. Victor Mair said,

    July 21, 2025 @ 5:30 pm

    calamity < calamitas From unattested *calamis ("damaged") +‎ -tās from Proto-Indo-European *kl̥h₂emi- from *kelh₂- (“to beat”). Compare the negated incolumis from Proto-Italic *enkalamis, from Proto-Indo-European *n̥kl̥h₂emi-. Cognate with clādēs, Proto-Celtic *klamitos and others. An old form by l-d-alternation is Old Latin kadamitās. (Wiktionary)

  15. Victor Mair said,

    July 21, 2025 @ 8:41 pm

    From Eric Hutton:

    As it so happens, I just published a small piece on how an error (possibly a typo) in a European book from 1590 created a puzzle for studies of Matteo Ricci’s Jiāoyǒu lùn 交友論 (On Friendship: One Hundred Maxims for a Chinese Prince, tr. Timothy Billings) that has persisted for the last 70+ years, a puzzle that I think I have now solved. The finding isn’t as significant as the one you note in your blog post about “The Tale of Wade," but it just goes to show that there’s a whole interesting history of textual errors and their consequences that remains to be explored!

    Hutton, Eric. “Solving a Puzzle about a Source for Matteo Ricci’s Jiaoyou lun 交友論” in Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu (AHSI), vol. XCIV, fasc. 187 (2025-I), 123–30.

    AHSI graciously allowed me to post a copy on my Academia.edu page, which is here.

  16. Jen in Edinburgh said,

    July 22, 2025 @ 5:34 am

    If the implication is that the modern Wade was originally attracted to the subject by the similarity of names, he would presumably know, and may well have told a curious journalist that it wasn't the case.

    (But if the implication is mystic forces drawing him to it, then who knows.)

  17. Nelson Goering said,

    July 25, 2025 @ 1:45 am

    This is one of the most overhyped minor emendations I've ever seen! The emendation itself is fairly plausible, though they actually don't make the strongest point super clear in the article: they should have reproduced the passage in context in the main body of the piece (as you have done in this post), so you can see up front how the Latin *lupi* seems to pick up on the quoted Middle English. This is the *only* thing that turns the emendation from a "well, could be, but why do it" to a "maybe that actually is right after all" kind of situation. So they rather undersell their case on that point.

    They also rather neglect quite a lot of context. They're rather mocking about the idea of a mermaid mother and Wade being a giant and all that, and you'd be forgiven for getting the impression from this piece that all that is just scholarly fantasy. But it has a source: *Þiðreks saga af Bern*, a collection of legends written in Norse, but based closely on German traditions (this is incredibly obvious from the forms of names, if nothing else). There Vaði is indeed the son of a "sǽ-kona", and is a "risi", a giant. Their mentions of the Middle High German poem Kudrun are also a bit enigmatic, and they don't actually even quite let you know that it explicitly mentions Wade (Wate), and they certainly aren't very forthcoming about the fact that he sails a boat there. They're also not too keen to let the reader know how prominent Hildebrand is in German narrative, since that would support the idea that one might want to venture beyond Middle English to understand the legend most fully.

    All of this means that their emendation is, frankly, basically inconsequential, as far as Chaucer is concerned. We basically end up just exactly where we were a hundred years ago. There are basically three bodies of references: Old English (pretty much just the name alone), Middle English (where he's a legendary figure known vaguely for his prowess, his boat, and in one reference, killing a dragon), and German (mostly Kudrun and, indirectly, Þiðreks saga). If you're interested in the longer history of the legend, it's not really unreasonable to suppose that Kudrun and the Chaucer reference together suggest a boat was involved somehow. He was clearly also a monster-slayer. That survives into later Middle English, and the new emendation doesn't change that (and the water-monsters are still present in the sermon).

    Their final conclusion about Chaucer is almost silly. They say — accurately but irrelevantly — that "there is no evidence that any of Chaucer’s readers would have known a mid-twelfth-century German epic, or indeed an Old English epic such as Widsith". This is to bizarrely misrepresent attempts to reconstruct the story as known by Chaucer based on analogues with familiarity with the analogues by Chaucer. You can disagree with any reconstruction, or think the whole process of reconstruction doomed to failure for lack of evidence, but it's really unfortunate of them to set up such a fanciful strawman as this. At the least, this is unfair to the earlier scholars whose work they're criticizing.

    More generally, they say: "The preferred reading of ‘wolves’ for ‘elves’ dramatically shifts the ground, and invites us to re-imagine the known world of Wade from c.1200 on, from one less germane to Germanic epic than congruent with courtly romance, less invested in the mythological sphere of giants and monsters than in the warring of human chivalric adversaries." First, it's odd to talk about human adversaries when one of the very few Middle English details about Wade is that he killed a dragon, and the emendation they're making so much hay from still involves a reference to non-human entities (the sermon probably means the wolves allegorically, but there's no hint that this would apply to the fragment, and the few lines we have suggest actual wolves are meant). And of course, chivalric romances have plenty of giants: there's the green giant is Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and Arthur's giant at Mont-Saint-Michel is even mentioned in this article! They seem to be setting up a dichotomy between "chivalric" and "supernatural" which won't withstand the slightest scrutiny.

    More generally, this is like saying that because Middle English traditions about Troy are "chivalric", this makes them less "congruent" with the Homeric sphere. If you're interested in the synchronic state of the tale in Chaucer's day, then both the vernacular forms of the Troy story and, presumably, Wade's tale reflect the cultural norms of late Middle English narrative (surely no one was thinking before this article that Beowulf-style verse was still current in the 14th century!). If you're interested in the history of the story, then you'll end up leaving the late Middle English cultural sphere either way, whether you go back to Ancient Greek or to Middle High German.

    At best, they might be arguing that some kind of stylistic shift to a "chivalric" style story (whatever this might mean) took place in the 13th century rather than the 14th. That's hardly a very dramatic conclusion, even if right — and in any case, even that much more modest conclusion doesn't really follow from their emendation. I mean, Laȝamon's *Brut* mentions elves, but is still a story whose style and cultural norms are solidly of the late 12th century. In this case, a wild and desolate place filled with elves, serpents, and water-monsters isn't all that different in atmosphere from one filled with wolves, serpents, and water-monsters. Presumably it's the eerie or frightening wildness of the place that's in focus, and that's a pretty generic kind of trope — you could link it equally to the horror of Grendel's mere or to the wilderness that Sir Gawain passes through (with its *wodwos*, as a further reminder that strange supernatural foes are no strangers to chivalric romance).

    The article does have its good points. It's a nice collection of the Middle English references to Wade, and their emendation is fundamentally plausible (even if the argument for it isn't presented to fullest advantage). But still, the authors have gone to some pains to sell the impact of their piece in the strongest terms possible, and this has meant overselling the (honestly minimal) implications of this to a really astonishing degree.

  18. Victor Mair said,

    July 25, 2025 @ 6:11 am

    You missed the part about mixing Middle English in with the Latin.

  19. Nelson Goering said,

    July 25, 2025 @ 6:38 am

    Victor Mair, I opened my comment by alluding to precisely that mixture, and its importance for the emendation itself.

    As for the actual practice of mixing Latin and English, that's a different conversation, and one the original article hardly touches on. You could, for instance, talk about the macaronic Latin/English verses we find in various places (e.g. at the end of the Old English poem Phoenix), or the way Cædmon's Hymn (the oldest attested poem in English) is first found as an English appendix to Bede's Latin Historia, or the ways that the glossarial tradition seems to be tied up with the emergence of Latin literacy. All very interesting things, and with a history stretching back centuries before this particular text.

  20. Victor Mair said,

    July 25, 2025 @ 7:30 am

    @Nelson Goering

    Thanks for giving us the back history of mixing English in with Latin. To me, that is of monumental importance in the development of language, just as mixing Vernacular Sinitic in with Literary Sinitic under Buddhist aegis was during the Middle Ages in China.

  21. David Marjanović said,

    July 25, 2025 @ 10:53 am

    Here's an expert saying the article overhypes itself. Conclusions:

    "The article does have its good points. It’s a nice collection of the Middle English references to Wade, and their emendation is fundamentally plausible (even if the argument for it isn’t presented to fullest advantage). But still, the authors have gone to some pains to sell the impact of their piece in the strongest terms possible, and this has meant overselling the (honestly minimal) implications of this to a really astonishing degree."

    There is further discussion in following comments.

  22. GH said,

    July 25, 2025 @ 12:25 pm

    @Nelson Goering:

    Thank you for those comments. That was pretty much exactly my reaction as a layperson just from reading the summary here and the Wikipedia article on Wade. Sure, the emendation is very plausible given the context, with the Latin passage that follows clearly linking back to the quoted lines (indeed, the link seems so obvious that it is hard to see how earlier readers could have missed it), but the authors' implications appear to wildly exaggerate how much we can extrapolate about the tale as a whole from this short fragment, and to ignore all the other evidence that the Tale of Wade had fantastical elements. I was particularly impressed by the sixteenth-century comment by Thomas Speght, explicitly discussing the version referred to by Chaucer, describing "strange exploits" in a "long and fabulous" tale.

  23. David Marjanović said,

    July 27, 2025 @ 4:00 am

    Here's an expert saying the article overhypes itself. Conclusions:

    …at which point he had already shown up here and copied his comment. No idea why I didn't see that – was it held up in moderation?

  24. Victor Mair said,

    July 30, 2025 @ 6:58 am

    "A Tiny Typo May Explain a Centuries-Old Mystery About Chaucer’s ‘Canterbury Tales’ and ‘Troilus and Criseyde’", Christian Thorsberg, Smithsonian Magazine (7/16/25)

    With a few additional details.

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