Paul Wiles' Essays


The Allegory in ‘Piers Plowman’

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII

by Paul Wiles

‘Piers Plowman’ is commonly referred to as one of the best examples of fourteenth century ‘allegory’, but when one starts to define this mode of expression, and goes on to apply it to the text in hand, one encounters many problems. The student is told the poem is an allegory, but how do we identify it as such?

The Prologue, though it starts with a dream, seems far removed from the semi-mystical dream world full of stylised characters, obscure relations and abstractions often casually identified with allegory. The poet begins by recounting “a merveilouse swevene” and the reader is led to expect that the highly stylised landscape, with its tower on the one side of the field, and dungeon on the other, is to be peopled with equally stylised characters. Instead we meet the common run of humanity, from merchants to bishops. The close of the Prologue conveys a vivid impression of fourteenth century London, with

“Cokes and here knaves crieden ‘Hote pies, hote!
Gode gus and gesse, go we dyne, go we!” prol.225-6(B)

Realism there is in abundance, so where lies the allegory?

As already stated, there are indications at the opening of the poem that announce themselves as allegorical – perhaps more strongly to Langland’s early readership where the allegorical method was firmly established as a way of dealing with spiritual questions. The dream form and the stylised landscape provide immediate indications that here is an ‘allegory’.

In this case, Langland feels it is necessary to introduce Holy Church to explain the landscape to the dreamer, but elsewhere more is left to the reader’s imagination. Because the B text deals with so much that is political and is radical in its views, Langland saw the dangers of being too overt. Yet in the fables of the rats and mice, there is a winning boldness. He has already spoken of the monarchy and court and goes on to expound a theory of kingly obligation. He dare not step over the line too far, however, so he switches to the beast fable. We have been prepared for this by his
“Forpi, I can and can naughte of courte speken more” (iii)