Fifty and Still Counting

The Bizzell Memorial Library sits in the middle of the University of Oklahoma campus. The library is an expansive, five-story building that includes a reading room, tech-savvy spaces, and traditional columns of books punctuated by study tables and corrals.

My favorite place in the library is the Zarrow Family Graduate Student and Faculty Center. This lower level location is where I studied almost daily as a graduate student. The path I took through the library led me past a short hallway whose wall is adorned with a curious sign. The first line on the sign is “Variorum Chaucer.”

I took a Chaucer class as part of my graduate studies but never had time to investigate the meaning of the sign. I recently returned to the library to solve the mystery of what and where the Variorum Chaucer is.

First, I needed to define the word “variorum.” According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, a variorum is “an edition or text with notes by different persons.”

Next, I looked up the history of the Variorum Chaucer. The Variorum Chaucer was founded more than 50 years ago in 1967 by a scholar named Paul G. Ruggiers. Ruggiers’ goal, according to a 1984 interview with William Bedford Clark, was to bring several medieval researchers together to publish bodies of work that included all scholarly notes on Chaucer’s works.

Ruggiers predicted that 40 volumes would be needed to complete the series. Only 12 volumes were published between 1979 and 2002. Ruggiers acknowledged that each volume would take time and that he would die before all 40 were complete. Ruggiers passed away in 1998, at which time 8 of the 12 volumes were published.

Where did the sign for the Variorum Chaucer lead to in Bizzell? Would there be a room full of old manuscripts and notes? Would there be a scholar pouring over resources, creating their own compendium regarding Chaucer or his works? Who was carrying forward Ruggiers’s vision?

I followed the direction of the sign. The short hall ended with white double doors. I passed through the doors. I entered a tiled, nondescript hall. Uncertain of where to go next, I searched the walls and doors for additional signage. I found one that reads “Chaucer Variorum.” Assuming that “Variorum Chaucer” and “Chaucer Variorum” are the same, I continued on my journey.

I discovered an entrance! But the door was locked, and is an entrance to several offices.

I walked around the corner. Old, tall dusty shelves filled the space. The shelves were full of old dusty books. I wouldn’t be surprised to find something spooky, like the Dueling Banjo Brothers from the movie Deliverance, here.

Near the dusty stacks, I found a second entry to the Variorum. My heart rate increased. My excitement was palpable. I practiced a few questions quietly that I planned to present to the graduate student or professor I hoped to encounter. Perhaps they would allow me to touch an ancient text full of Chaucer’s words or unroll a scroll with intricate scribal artwork.

Alas, all I found was a muntin window-paned locked door. I could see into the Variorum and out the window on the opposite wall. I could see desks, chairs, bookshelves, books, papers, and equipment that appeared untouched, possibly for years. My view through the paned door gave me the sense of a time capsule. It looked as if the inhabitants partially cleaned the space and walked out on the same day.

This basement room of Bizzell I stared into with wonder was the space Ruggiers acquired in 1982 or 1983, 16 years after he started the Variorum Chaucer.

This ordinary girl is curious to know what happened to all that knowledge of fifty-plus years. Is it worth salvaging? Do we need variorums in our modern-day society, where so much information can be gleamed within seconds from the internet? Is it still worth our time and energy to deep dive into the histories of words and worlds and storytelling? What happened to the director and other Variorum Chaucer employees who followed Ruggiers?

Sadly, I did not completely solve the mystery of the Variorum Chaucer. I discovered the location and history, but, like the heroine of a well-written novel, my greatest wishes were not granted. I didn’t meet a Chaucerian or touch a text covered with Chaucer’s words. I don’t know who is responsible for the space or the items that are left in it, but I do feel honored that I at least got a glimpse of it.

I did discover the work of Paul G. Ruggiers. His greatest accomplishment, perhaps, was founding the globally renowned New Chaucer Society, a world-wide organization for anyone interested in Chaucer.

Perhaps one day I’ll search the stacks of Bizzell for the 12 volumes published by the Variorum Chaucer. Hopefully, they’ll be above ground, in the main sections of the Bizzell Memorial Library, where I’ll have less of a chance of encountering the Dueling Banjo Brothers from Deliverance.

What do The Muppet Movie and the Canterbury Tales have in common?

Thank you for asking! I’ve been comparing the two for a while now and am glad to have the opportunity to share my thoughts with you.

Let’s begin with the obvious.

Both stories are about a journey. In The Muppet Movie, Kermit the Frog journeys from the swamp to Hollywood. The pilgrims of the Canterbury Tales journey from Tabard Inn in Southwark to the Canterbury Cathedral in London.

Each story includes a huge cast of characters. The Muppet Movie features 24 main muppets, 8 background muppets, 10 human characters, and an additional 15 famous special guests for a grand total of 57 main-ish characters. The grand finale, a rousing rendition of The Rainbow Connection, includes over 100 human and muppet performers.

The Canterbury Tales features 30 pilgrims, including Harry Bailley, proprietor of the Tabard Inn. Harry proposes that each pilgrim share 2 stories on the journey from the Tabard Inn to Canterbury Cathedral, and 2 stories on the way back. The pilgrim who tells the best story will earn a meal and a night at his inn.

Kermit the Frog gains an entourage of muppets and humans as he treks across America from the swamp to Hollywood. He believes that every character has a talent that guarantees their success in Tinseltown.

The colorful characters of The Canterbury Tales and The Muppet Movie represent people from all walks of life. My favorite storyteller of The Canterbury Tales is the Wife of Bath, who is also known as the loathly lady. Kermit, of course, is my favorite muppet, which is a source of contention with Miss Piggy, who suffocatingly adores Kermit as well as herself.

But I digress. Just as Harry Bailley manages the pilgrims through their storytelling, Kermit leads his entourage through traps and turns that are mostly meant to ensare him for his scrawny frog legs. We never learn who earns the prize offered by Harry Bailley because Geoffrey Chaucer died before finishing his ambitious project of writing 120 stories. He managed to pen 24 colorful narratives that illustrate medieval lives. Kermit and his friends (spoiler alert) do reach Hollywood, but destroy the studio in which they are to record their performances.

The lesson from the pilgrims and the performers is to try. Just try to do something – tell a story, sing, dance. Hunt for frog legs. Whatever. Try something that will take you on a journey.

Anyway, that’s how this ordinary girls sums up these two stories.

The Canterbury Tales and The Muppet Movie are wonderful pieces of fiction that illustrate so many truths about friendships, human nature, and societal roles. If you have fifty-plus minutes (97 to be exact), use it to watch The Muppet Movie. If you have only 45 minutes, use it to listen to Ancient Literary Dude read the prologue to the Tales in Middle English, the language in which they were written. Both events will take you on your own mindful journey.