Pugh, Tison. “Queer Pandarus? Silence and Sexual Ambiguity in Chaucer’s Troilus

                   and Criseyde.” Philological Quarterly, 80:1 (2001 Winter), pp. 17-35.

            Tison Pugh analyzes Chaucer’s Troilus and Criseyde from the perspective of queer criticism, opening his essay with a loaded question: “is Pandurus queer?”(17). He tempers this question with a disclaimer, admitting that he cannot prove that the homosocial relationship between Pandarus and Troilus is unequivocally homosexual. However, he argues that through ambiguities within the text, Chaucer leaves open possibilities for a queer reading of Pandarus’s character.

            Pugh begins by examining medieval conceptions of sexuality. He identifies a parallel between the literary relationship of Pandarus and Troilus and the historical relationship of King Richard II and his councilor, Robert de Vere, who were widely assumed to be engaging in a homosexual relationship. Pugh argues that Chaucer would have been aware of this relationship, and is perhaps allegorically referencing it in his portrayal of the relationship between a nobleman and a “non-heteronormative” advisor (18). Pugh continues his exploration of medieval sexuality, noting that it is inappropriate to apply contemporary understandings of sexuality to a medieval text. In the Middle Ages, he reveals, sexuality was not as closely associated with identity as it is today; homosexuality and heterosexuality were behaviors and not labels. Therefore, medieval views towards sexuality make it possible for us to read homosexual meaning into male-male relationships that we might otherwise view as asexual.

            Next, Pugh discusses the ways in which Pandarus’s dialogue and, more importantly the gaps in his dialogue, reinforce a queer reading of his character. For textual support, he turns to Pandarus’s account of his beloved in Book I. Pandarus’s dialogue, Pugh argues, provides very little information about Pandarus’s lover, leaving his identity a mystery. Through this textual hole, Chaucer allows readers to construct the identity of Pandarus’s love for ourselves. In other words, ambiguities in the text allow us, if we so desire, to imagine Pandarus’s lover as homosexual.

            Pugh also explores the ways in which Pandarus’s gaze serves to construct him as queer.  Pandarus’s gaze, Pugh argues, not only reveals Pandarus’s homosexual desire for Troilus, but is also the means by which he fulfills that desire; he sates his lust for Troilus through voyeurism, watching the love affair unfold between Troilus and Criseyde. 

            Pugh’s argument concludes with the assertion that Pandarus’s “polymorphous” sexuality serves to highlight the poem’s central meaning, the “ephemerality of human love” (24); Pandarus’s homosexual love fails Troilus just as Criseyde’s heterosexual love fails him.

            Pugh ends his argument by “laying down a friendly challenge” to those who deny the possibilities of a queer reading; he asks them to “prove that Pandarus is heterosexual” (35). He is confident, however, that the textual ambiguities within the text make a conclusive reading of Pandarus’s sexuality impossible.

            Tison Pugh’s queer analysis of Pandarus lacks decisiveness; he refuses to claim that either Pandarus or his behavior is homosexual.  His analysis primarily proves one point; that the text of the poem is ambiguous enough to support either a heterosexual or a homosexual reading of Pandarus’s character. This being true, it would have been nice if Pugh had more assertively argued the case for a queer Pandarus, rather than simply awakening the possibility.

However, Pugh is to be credited for engaging with a queer reading of Pandarus; his discussion was needed. Very few of the scholarly articles I have read are willing to even consider the possibility that Pandarus harbors homosexual desire for Troilus. Many scholars summarily and irrationally dismiss the textual evidence that Pandarus is gay simply because they find the idea personally distasteful. For this reason, I wish that Pugh were more assertive in both his argument and his choice of language. It seems rather ludicrous to be temperate when the other side is so vocal.  

Despite the overall mildness of Pugh’s argument, he is generally very adept at supporting it. I found his discussion of textual ambiguity to be particularly compelling, and to merit application beyond a queer reading of Pandarus. For example, in class lecture we discussed the possibility that Pandarus is a representation of Chaucer, and that Pandarus’s “pandering” serves as a textual reference to Chaucer’s alleged role in kidnapping. If Pandarus is a self-portrait, it is notable that the silence and ambiguity regarding his lover mirrors the silence and ambiguity surrounding this historical event in Chaucer’s life.

Pugh’s queer analysis of Troilus and Criseyde opens the possibility for a homosexual reading of Pandarus’s character. However, his argument is far too conciliatory, refusing to take a firm stand.

Rebecca Harpine

University of Mary Washington