- Boccaccio says that he's completed the task he set for himself at the beginning of this work and he's ready for a good, long rest.
- But first, he wants to address some criticisms that may have come up in the minds of his readers.
- He knows that people will be upset by the kinds of tales he's made ladies tell and listen to in the course of the work.
- Boccaccio denies any intent to corrupt the ladies. Even naughty stories can be told, he says, as long as you use "seemly language." He's pretty sure he's done that (think euphemisms).
- But let's say we don't agree with him. Boccaccio has that covered. The fault is really in the nature of the stories. To change the words of the stories would be to distort them.
- If we don't agree with some of the language used—and here he's speaking of double entendre—we might as well object to those everyday words being used at all, even without the naughty ideas behind them.
- Really, you could interpret anything as vulgar if you work hard enough. Boccaccio points out some well-known instances in religious art that could even be construed wrongly with a certain mindset.
- Consider also that these stories weren't told in sacred places. They were told in places of pleasure, like gardens and valleys.
- The stories were also told by consenting adults, who really should be past the age when raunchy stories could influence their behavior.
- Besides, we're talking about a time when anything goes because death is all around in the form of the plague.
- Boccaccio then uses a comparison that we've all heard before: just because weapons kill people doesn't mean they're evil in themselves. It's the evil intention of the user that kills.
- The same applies to the potentially questionable stories here. Corrupt characters and plots aren't going to defile a pure mind.
- He says if the super-righteous disapprove of his stories, they can just ignore them. The stories won't run after anyone and force anyone to read them.
- We've heard that one before, too.
- Then Boccaccio makes a move that Chaucer steals for the Canterbury Tales. He says he'd have written more appropriate stories if only the ladies of the brigata would have told more wholesome ones.
- He's just the scribe, you see. He can only copy down what they said. Way to hold on to the fiction, Mr. B.
- Boccaccio also claims that we can skip the stories that we think will have a corrupting influence. That's why he gave us those nifty little summary-titles at the opening of each tale as a warning of what was to come.
- (Sorry, Shmoopers, for shortening those titles, but we figured you could handle it.)
- He knows also that some people think there's no gravitas in what he writes. He's all jests and witty remarks.
- Boccaccio has a field day playing with the idea of having "weight" and "gravity," including plenty of double entendre.
- And one final criticism: why is he always ridiculing friars? Rather than defend himself against this accusation, he mocks them some more.
- He ends his defense by saying that he doesn't have a sharp and evil tongue. In fact, the lady next door told him otherwise not too long ago. (Yes, it's what you think.)
- Boccaccio offers thanks to God and asks the ladies to remember him in their prayers if they got anything useful out of his stories.