Showing posts with label Alchemy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alchemy. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

The Recipe for Success?



After reading the Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale, the importance of alchemy has been on my mind. In doing additional research, there are many angles concerning Alchemy which I hadn’t considered.  Alchemy is a proto-chemistry, which involved mixing elements to create new things. The ultimate goal, as we’ve discussed, was to create a philosopher’s stone, something which has been said to turn any base metal into gold, (in some cases) to heal any disease and/or to offer immortality to anyone who ingested a potion which incorporated it.

Now, while we scoff a bit in our modern age, especially at the story of the Canon’s Yeoman’s where an alchemist specifically chooses to dupe the priest into believing he is actually performing alchemy, there are elements to alchemy as a science which I had not considered. Namely, we discussed the possibility that alchemy could be considered evil because it creates something from nothing, but this is not actually the case. Like a recipe, alchemy utilizes many different ingredients to make a final product. To use a borrowed phrase about alchemy, it’s the law of equivalent exchange—where you put in the things which make up the final thing you hope to create.  While the end result of the philosopher’s stone would be making gold in an almost magical way, it’s not creating something from nothing.

In reading an article from Peggy Knapp entitled “The Work of Alchemy,” she raised an interesting point to me about why clergy would’ve allowed alchemy and not magic. According to Knapp, “Alchemical treatises share a few basic ideas: that alchemy speeds up processes already at work in Nature, that gold represents the perfect balance between the elements of earth, water, air and fire toward which Nature is heading, and that alchemy could hurry the lower metals toward gold through “projections” involving mercury, sulfur and furnaces” (Knapp, 575).  This means that alchemy itself wasn’t reaching beyond the bounds of humanity, instead it was simply hurrying along a process which God already set in motion. Therefore, the philosopher’s stone was something which not only encouraged the natural order of things, but also embodied and kept the secrets of creation, and therefore, of God as well.

Part of the rules of alchemy, as mentioned, were of equivalent exchange. In most alchemic texts there were directions to create a chemical wedding, where all the elements needed to create the philosopher’s stone were actually to be “married” or unified together. The most important point though for this chemical union was actually for there to be balance—between the elements of gold and silver, of the sun and the moon, of fire and water.  In creating anything alchemical, there must be balance for the union to occur—too much or too little of anything would cause disastrous results.  There is also a balance needed between the knowledge behind the science of alchemy and the physical work and timing which goes into each alchemical reaction.  A perfectly balanced person is the start of a perfectly balanced equation for alchemy.

This then made me reconsider the problems with the Canon’s Yeoman’s tale.  The deceit of the alchemist towards the priest is not just buffoonery to be ridiculous or to show that you shouldn’t put your faith in things which are unholy, but to show that charlatans exist partly because part of themselves is unbalanced, much like this alchemist’s “alchemy.”  Without balance, one could not achieve happiness, for one would not be able to find a balance between work and home, or earth and heaven.  The proper balance of common sense and intelligence is needed for a professions such as an alchemist’s, but also for a priest, who should’ve been somewhat educated, to know that this alchemist was not what he seemed.  This imbalance of knowledge is even more apparent in the alchemist, because he cannot be someone who had actually studied alchemic texts, because he relies entirely on parlor tricks to get his victims to believe that he is truly noteworthy and someone who understands the secrets of creation.  And yet, at the same time, it occurs to me that only others who are similarly imbalanced would trust a con artist. 

While many may think that Chaucer was simply angry towards someone who cheated him and claimed to be an alchemist, and that interpretation makes complete sense, I feel differently.  In this case, the message might be for us to be wary of things which seem too good to be true, but additionally to find a true unity with our creator in order for the true transformation to begin.  In this way, perhaps we can work towards finding a balance in our own lives to begin the journey of recreation!

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Leave Order Out of the Pot


The canon’s yeoman is not the first scientist/magician we have met throughout the Canterbury Tales and yet the treatment of alchemy seems unique among collection of physicians, magicians, and illusionists. Probably one of the best (and most concise) descriptions of the foolery that is alchemy comes in the “Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale,” starting around line 906 and ending at 931. This is the moment the yeomen describes the catastrophe that occurred when their clay pot broke. He describes the explosion of the contents as such:
   Alchemist Pic Link
They percen so, and thurgh the wal they goon,
and somme of hem sinken into the ground—
Thus han we lost betimes many a pound—
And somme ar scattered al the floor aboute,
Somme lepe into the roof. Withouten doute, (911-915)

To add to the chaos of molten who-knows-what scattered about the room we then get alchemists scattered about the room blaming each other for the mishap. From their conversation it seems like they actually have no idea what happened. It was a fault of the fire, no the fire tender; actually it was the wrong kind of wood. Finally the master alchemist chimes in, “I am right skier that the pot was crased. / Be as be may, be ye nothing amased” (934-935), in other words, “cheer up. If the pot broke it was obviously already damaged; let’s try again our mix of explosive, molten stuff!” The overwhelming, overarching point of the Yeoman and his tale aside, this scene is beyond ridiculous even without knowing how ridiculous alchemy is from a scientific standpoint. Considering this outlook on alchemy, which is almost inseparable from other aspects of medieval science, I thought it interesting that the other appearances of similar things in the CT are put in a sober light. The wife of the knight in the WOB’s tale has both a sharp reason and the ability to shape shift. The physician gets probably the saddest and most sobering tale in the whole collection. Every wondrous gift in “The Squire’s Tale” seems cool beyond belief but also based on (what were then) reasonable ideas. And while the illusionist in “The Franklin’s Tale” may charge a lot of money, he delivers on his promised spells and they work fantastically.

            In trying to understand this difference, I looked back at the illusionist in “The Franklin’s Tale.” His process for creating his spells is completely different from the alchemists’. Where all of their emphasis is on the varying combinations of ingredients they add, the illusionist spends all of his time waiting, “That night and day he spedde him that he kan / To waite a time of his conclusioun” (“The Franklin’s Tale” 1262-1263). Further, he finally creates his spell when “at laste he hath his time yfounde” (1270). It seems then is that for the illusionist timing is literally everything. He knows enough about how the heavens move and how that affects the earth that he need only attempt is spell in its proper place for it to work. It might be a stretch, but this seems to tie into the theme of knowing your place and doing it well that is exemplified by several other tales in this text. Perhaps the reason that alchemy is not treated seriously is because almost by its nature it is trying to disrupt the order of things instead of using them, making gold of lead. That may not be a 100% true all the time but it seems to be part of what Chaucer is doing with alchemy.