She tunes out of conversations, mulishly wishes she could keep to her usual prayer schedule, and stubbornly finds no enjoyment in her new surroundings or fresh acquaintances. Even the murder of a man she dislikes very much fails to stir her. In fact, it is many, many pages later that she is finally asked to help solve the puzzle.

Thankfully, the stodgy nun finds that curiosity is not a sin and in a rather condescending manner she begins prodding and eavesdropping. The legitimacy of a male heir, a love triangle, a jealous old woman and the decision of a faithful clerk are factors in the story.

Without so much buildup we are thrown by an abrupt, nearly comical, announcement that resolves the story. It is as if the author looked at her page count and said - oops, time to end this! After the slothful pace of what comes before, the reader is jolted into wakefulness. It is like having the alarm go off on the one day you can sleep late.

Maybe The Clerk’s Tale would be enjoyable if you are a nun. You could compare your life with Dame Frevisse’s. For those of us who aren’t nuns or even particularly religious, there is not much revelation about a deeply religious person - basically listing the names and times of the services and throwing in a few Latin phrases.

The biggest insult to the reader, who expects to be educated in a historical mystery, is that Dame Frevisse does not take advantage of being near a beloved relative to go on a visit to her. Even though the author hints that the relative could shed light on the murder mystery, Dame Frevisse never shows any interest in a road trip. This reader would have loved the glimpse of medieval life outside of the claustrophobic convent confines.

--Diane Gotfryd