What happens in Chapter 20 of The Canterbury Tales?
The final segment of The Canterbury Tales begins with the Parson, the only truly virtuous pilgrim, who delivers not a tale but a lengthy prose piece on penitence. As the group nears an unnamed village at sunset, the Host invites the Parson to conclude the storytelling game. The Parson rejects fables and verse entirely, instead presenting a "merry tale in prose" that evolves into a serious moral sermon. Citing Raymond of Peñafort and Peraldus, he thoroughly examines the Seven Deadly Sins—Pride, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Avarice, Gluttony, and Lechery—and outlines the three acts of Penitence: Contrition, Confession, and Satisfaction. The treatise is dense and intentionally repetitive, without a hint of irony. Then, in a surprising turn, Chaucer himself appears in the Retraction. He expresses gratitude to God for his pious and morally educational writings, explicitly disavowing Troilus and Criseyde, the fabliaux, and the more risqué Canterbury Tales, seeking forgiveness for every word that leads to sin. The pilgrimage frame fades; the fiction is set aside; the author speaks directly and sincerely to the reader, entrusting his soul to Christ.
Analysis
Chaucer's choice to conclude with the Parson is a structural decision that goes beyond being a mere pious gesture. Throughout the Tales, every narrator is flawed—whether due to vanity, self-interest, or outright dishonesty—while the Parson stands apart, resisting both the Host's pressure and the competitive nature of the storytelling game. By placing his treatise at the end, Chaucer reinterprets the entire collection as a journey of penance, making the pilgrimage metaphor introduced in the General Prologue more literal and serious. The transition from verse to prose is a deliberate stylistic choice: prose represents truth-telling in medieval literature, removing the embellishments that fiction often requires. The catalogue of the Seven Deadly Sins acts like a dark mirror reflecting the earlier tales—showing Pride in the Knight's tournament, Lechery in the Miller's and Merchant's tales, and Avarice in the Pardoner's—prompting readers to conduct a moral examination without naming specific characters.
The Retraction marks the collection's boldest tonal shift. Chaucer breaks down the barrier between himself and the narrator that he has meticulously upheld since the General Prologue, leading to a disorienting effect: every layer of irony suddenly feels precarious. Critics sharply disagree on the author's sincerity—was this a genuine deathbed recantation, a traditional palinode, or just another performance? This ambiguity serves a purpose. By leaving it unresolved, Chaucer compels readers to engage in exactly what the Parson urges the penitent to do: reflect on their conscience, consider their intentions, and embrace uncertainty. The final statement is not a punchline but a heartfelt prayer.
Key quotes from Chapter 20
“And Jhesu Crist, that is kyng of kynges and preest over alle preestes, that boghte us with the precious blood of his herte, so graunte us alle that been worthy pilgrymes to Jerusalem celestial.”
The Parson closes his treatise with this benediction, explicitly recasting the Canterbury road as an allegory for the soul's journey toward heaven.
“Heere taketh the makere of this book his leve. Now preye I to hem alle that herkne this litel tretys or rede, that if ther be any thyng in it that liketh hem, that therof they thanken oure Lord Jhesu Crist, of whom procedeth al wit and al goodnesse. And if ther be any thyng that displese hem, I preye hem also that they arrette it to the defaute of myn unkonnynge.”
Chaucer opens the Retraction by stepping entirely outside the fiction, addressing his audience as author rather than pilgrim-narrator.
“I biseke yow mekely, for the mercy of God, that ye preye for me that Crist have mercy on me and foryeve me my giltes; and namely of my translacions and enditynges of worldly vanitees, the whiche I revoke in my retracciouns.”
In the Retraction's most cited passage, Chaucer names and disavows his secular works, including the Canterbury Tales themselves, in a gesture of formal penitence.