Hey guys,
I wanted to give you one last taste of the Welsh Triads, also known as the Triads of the Island of Brittan, that I mentioned in my presentation on Tristan. They are very interesting to look at and I thought it would be nice to end on an old Arthur note.
Just to refresh your memory, these are tales that originate in texts that date in the 13th century, but are thought to be older than the 9th century. Arthur was at times described as very courageous and great, and others he was treacherous. Here, from very early, we see the dual depictions of Arthur. They Triads were written in threes and were written of figures that were important to the island of Brittan.
If you want to learn more, there is a very interesting book called, "A history of Wales from the earliest times to the Edwardian conquest" by Sir John Edward Lloyd. Definitely check it out!
Here is one of my favorite Arthur references from the Black Book (probably dates to 11th or 12th century):
I have been where Llachau was slain,
the son of Arthur, awful in songs,
when ravens croaked over blood.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Love gets a bad rap and it doesn’t make me happy
A comment I made in another entry about the different treatment of the LG affair by Chretien vs. Malory, left me wondering why is it that I missed the long amorous monologues of Chretien and (less so) Von Eschenbach and how would Morte D’Arthur change if Malory had inserted some Ovidian style love passages, more secret encounters between Lancelot and Guinevere ? And how would it had affected the tragic ending? With a blind, trance-like Lancelot like in the Cart? It would have been interesting, more melodramatic...Another creative project idea!
The exalted love component made the Arthurian text more varied, but they did seem to dominate the plot in Chretien and WVE. It was a good change, meeting surreal characters (dwarves, hermits, maidens, faeries) in the forest, and then the pining and looking at blood on snow. It was refreshing, and having that insight into a knight’s thoughts...
Why did Malory divorce his fictional knighthood from a sweeping love story? In the end Tristan and Isode’s comments about love making better knights is laughable.
Love didn’t make Lancelot et. al better knights, it was the rejection of love that permitted Lancelot, Arthur etc to die with honor or you could say that BECAUSE Lancelot had the affair he was able to patch up his act in the end, sort of define himself, who he was. And he decided he would not be a lover.
Through Lancelot, Malory seems to be saying marriage hinders knights (look at Arthur) but informal romantic entanglements help you define your priorities and make you always prefer knightly honor.
They, LG, suffer more for the consequences of love than from being apart it seems, though granted, Malory does not let us in into their deepest, innermost thoughts, so we can't assume they don't.
Anyway, so I went back to my courtly love notes, and Malory was writing when courtly, chivalric virtuous love (without the adulterous component) was incredibly popular -- the 14th century to 16th century--. People were reading romances, lyrics, handbooks of conduct, etc. The 14th century gentleman wanted to be like Tristan. Why was deviant, cleptomaniac Malory so …the only word I can think of is frugal…frugal with the love component… I understand there was a war and that Malory was a frustrated knight stuck in jail, and it was knighthood he missed the most? But he did he ever SERVE?? Was he a sort of Don Quijote? Is this book a projection of his unfulfilled knightly fantasies? And, was it difficult for him to relate to women and kept getting rejected/accused of rape in real life? Was this why Lancelot rejects all those women?
By removing the Ovidian/Tristan love from Morte the knights feel less realistic, less comprehensive men. Does this affect the way we think of them as ideal?
I do like flawed heroes with an inner life.
The exalted love component made the Arthurian text more varied, but they did seem to dominate the plot in Chretien and WVE. It was a good change, meeting surreal characters (dwarves, hermits, maidens, faeries) in the forest, and then the pining and looking at blood on snow. It was refreshing, and having that insight into a knight’s thoughts...
Why did Malory divorce his fictional knighthood from a sweeping love story? In the end Tristan and Isode’s comments about love making better knights is laughable.
Love didn’t make Lancelot et. al better knights, it was the rejection of love that permitted Lancelot, Arthur etc to die with honor or you could say that BECAUSE Lancelot had the affair he was able to patch up his act in the end, sort of define himself, who he was. And he decided he would not be a lover.
Through Lancelot, Malory seems to be saying marriage hinders knights (look at Arthur) but informal romantic entanglements help you define your priorities and make you always prefer knightly honor.
They, LG, suffer more for the consequences of love than from being apart it seems, though granted, Malory does not let us in into their deepest, innermost thoughts, so we can't assume they don't.
Anyway, so I went back to my courtly love notes, and Malory was writing when courtly, chivalric virtuous love (without the adulterous component) was incredibly popular -- the 14th century to 16th century--. People were reading romances, lyrics, handbooks of conduct, etc. The 14th century gentleman wanted to be like Tristan. Why was deviant, cleptomaniac Malory so …the only word I can think of is frugal…frugal with the love component… I understand there was a war and that Malory was a frustrated knight stuck in jail, and it was knighthood he missed the most? But he did he ever SERVE?? Was he a sort of Don Quijote? Is this book a projection of his unfulfilled knightly fantasies? And, was it difficult for him to relate to women and kept getting rejected/accused of rape in real life? Was this why Lancelot rejects all those women?
By removing the Ovidian/Tristan love from Morte the knights feel less realistic, less comprehensive men. Does this affect the way we think of them as ideal?
I do like flawed heroes with an inner life.
A new Morgan le Fay text
I've been meaning to post this for a while; finally getting around to it!
I think one of the most fascinating parts of history and literature is when people make new discoveries in archives. While conducting research for my short paper on Morgan le Fay, I came across an article in the journal of Arthurian Literature by a fellow who discovered a short letter purportedly written by Morgan to a bachelor in her household.
In translation, the letter says:
"[Salutation: ] Morgan, by the grace of God empress of the wilderness, queen of the damsels, lady of the isles, long time governor of the waves (of the) great sea; to our royal bachelor Pomelyn, guardian of the Perilous Point: Greeting.
[Text: ] When Piers the Fierce was peer to peers, then Piers forgot all his peers. Now is Piers without peer and peers. By the man one is able to learn, for he loses this plainly who does not want to wait his time. Suddenly he begins to fly and greatly he pains [himself] to change his place [i.e. his station in life] when he wants to take the moon, because he makes his flights at will without avail. Now to explain to you: It is much better to wait for Fortune than hastily to ascend and suddenly to descend.
[Closing: ] Issued at our Castle of Diamond, on the Rock of Gold, above the Ruby Road, alongside the Plain of Sapphire."
Piers Gaveston was a "special friend" (probably a lover) of Edward II, and suffered a particularly nasty downfall in 1312.
This letter is significant because of when it was written and how it portrays Morgan, within a context of increasing character assassination by the Church and later writers.
To excerpt from my short paper:
"Although the origins of the character of Morgan le Fay are unclear, it is clear that she did not become a problematic figure in Arthurian literature until the Vulgate cycle in the early 13th century. In Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Vita Merlini, Morgan is Morgen, a “priestess who rules the Blessed Isle ‘under a system of benign laws’ and teaches her followers ‘how to cure sickness.’” This portrayal of Morgan as a benevolent, wise healer continues in Chretien de Troyes’s 12th-century romances. In Erec et Enide, she makes the ointment that heals Erec’s wounds. Although the demonization process begins in the early 13th century, there exists a mock letter by Morgan le Fay that portrays her as a wise empress and “lady of the isles” advising a bachelor on the power of Fortune. The letter is tentatively dated to the first half of the 14th century, but its existence demonstrates the existence of a tradition of Morgan as wise and benevolent even as it was threatened and, eventually, suppressed by her demonization.
In the early 13th century, a series of Grail tales appeared, known to us as the Vulgate Cycle, in which the demonization of Morgan le Fay began in earnest. She became “‘the most lustful woman in all of Great Britain,’ a jealous and malicious queen, ‘inspired with sensuality and the devil,’ who is hateful towards Guinevere especially” (Carver 36). Carver attributes this blackening to misogynistic Cistercian monks who “took these popular tales and edited them to suit their own didactic purposes” (David Day, qtd. Carver 36). These purposes included the desire to condemn not only women as sexual temptresses who threatened the spiritual lives of men but also to condemn magic and healing as a devilish force. These Cistercian monks and other clergy were “inclined to share the misogynist views current in the medieval church. Thus when they write about enchantresses, they often use them as vehicles for the critique of dominant values” (Larrington 3). The clergy united two contemporary religious problems with Arthuriana and targeted Morgan as a figure in which they could ‘hit two birds with one stone’: demoting both women and extra-Church mysticism and healing. By condemning Morgan as an evil, malicious female sorceress, the monks ‘re-wrote’ the Arthurian mythos to their own time, removing from it the lone strong, educated female healer who wasn’t affiliated with the Church. This re-writing continued in Sir Thomas Malory’s 1485 Le Mort Darthur, as Morgan plots to kill Arthur, steals his scabbard and enchants Lancelot into a deep sleep, entrapping him in her castle. However, Malory’s Morgan is not entirely bad — she reconciles with Arthur at the end, on the boat to Avalon. Furthermore, the plot element of Morgan as Arthur’s lover and Mordred’s mother didn’t emerge until latter-20th-century Arthurian literature (Carver 40); in Le Mort Darthur and even T.H. White’s The Once and Future King, it is Margawse/Morgause who mothers Mordred. In a twist of irony, modern women writers, including Marion Zimmer Bradley, who seek to redeem Morgan’s character continue this process of negative re-writing by continuing to cast her as Arthur’s lover and Mordred’s mother."
It is interesting, indeed, that the image of Morgan as wise adviser continues into the fourteenth century. I wonder whether this image was preserved in oral re-tellings of Arthurian tales after the mid-1300s, but could not be written down because most writing was done in monasteries. It would be nice if we somehow could pinpoint when the nice Morgan disappeared from the Arthurian legend altogether.
Twomey, Michael. “’Morgan le Fay, Empress of the Wilderness’: A Newly Recovered Arthurian Text in London, BL Royal 12.C.IX.” Arthurian Literature XXV. Eds. Elizabeth Archibald and David F. Johnson. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2008. 67-91.
I think one of the most fascinating parts of history and literature is when people make new discoveries in archives. While conducting research for my short paper on Morgan le Fay, I came across an article in the journal of Arthurian Literature by a fellow who discovered a short letter purportedly written by Morgan to a bachelor in her household.
In translation, the letter says:
"[Salutation: ] Morgan, by the grace of God empress of the wilderness, queen of the damsels, lady of the isles, long time governor of the waves (of the) great sea; to our royal bachelor Pomelyn, guardian of the Perilous Point: Greeting.
[Text: ] When Piers the Fierce was peer to peers, then Piers forgot all his peers. Now is Piers without peer and peers. By the man one is able to learn, for he loses this plainly who does not want to wait his time. Suddenly he begins to fly and greatly he pains [himself] to change his place [i.e. his station in life] when he wants to take the moon, because he makes his flights at will without avail. Now to explain to you: It is much better to wait for Fortune than hastily to ascend and suddenly to descend.
[Closing: ] Issued at our Castle of Diamond, on the Rock of Gold, above the Ruby Road, alongside the Plain of Sapphire."
Piers Gaveston was a "special friend" (probably a lover) of Edward II, and suffered a particularly nasty downfall in 1312.
This letter is significant because of when it was written and how it portrays Morgan, within a context of increasing character assassination by the Church and later writers.
To excerpt from my short paper:
"Although the origins of the character of Morgan le Fay are unclear, it is clear that she did not become a problematic figure in Arthurian literature until the Vulgate cycle in the early 13th century. In Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Vita Merlini, Morgan is Morgen, a “priestess who rules the Blessed Isle ‘under a system of benign laws’ and teaches her followers ‘how to cure sickness.’” This portrayal of Morgan as a benevolent, wise healer continues in Chretien de Troyes’s 12th-century romances. In Erec et Enide, she makes the ointment that heals Erec’s wounds. Although the demonization process begins in the early 13th century, there exists a mock letter by Morgan le Fay that portrays her as a wise empress and “lady of the isles” advising a bachelor on the power of Fortune. The letter is tentatively dated to the first half of the 14th century, but its existence demonstrates the existence of a tradition of Morgan as wise and benevolent even as it was threatened and, eventually, suppressed by her demonization.
In the early 13th century, a series of Grail tales appeared, known to us as the Vulgate Cycle, in which the demonization of Morgan le Fay began in earnest. She became “‘the most lustful woman in all of Great Britain,’ a jealous and malicious queen, ‘inspired with sensuality and the devil,’ who is hateful towards Guinevere especially” (Carver 36). Carver attributes this blackening to misogynistic Cistercian monks who “took these popular tales and edited them to suit their own didactic purposes” (David Day, qtd. Carver 36). These purposes included the desire to condemn not only women as sexual temptresses who threatened the spiritual lives of men but also to condemn magic and healing as a devilish force. These Cistercian monks and other clergy were “inclined to share the misogynist views current in the medieval church. Thus when they write about enchantresses, they often use them as vehicles for the critique of dominant values” (Larrington 3). The clergy united two contemporary religious problems with Arthuriana and targeted Morgan as a figure in which they could ‘hit two birds with one stone’: demoting both women and extra-Church mysticism and healing. By condemning Morgan as an evil, malicious female sorceress, the monks ‘re-wrote’ the Arthurian mythos to their own time, removing from it the lone strong, educated female healer who wasn’t affiliated with the Church. This re-writing continued in Sir Thomas Malory’s 1485 Le Mort Darthur, as Morgan plots to kill Arthur, steals his scabbard and enchants Lancelot into a deep sleep, entrapping him in her castle. However, Malory’s Morgan is not entirely bad — she reconciles with Arthur at the end, on the boat to Avalon. Furthermore, the plot element of Morgan as Arthur’s lover and Mordred’s mother didn’t emerge until latter-20th-century Arthurian literature (Carver 40); in Le Mort Darthur and even T.H. White’s The Once and Future King, it is Margawse/Morgause who mothers Mordred. In a twist of irony, modern women writers, including Marion Zimmer Bradley, who seek to redeem Morgan’s character continue this process of negative re-writing by continuing to cast her as Arthur’s lover and Mordred’s mother."
It is interesting, indeed, that the image of Morgan as wise adviser continues into the fourteenth century. I wonder whether this image was preserved in oral re-tellings of Arthurian tales after the mid-1300s, but could not be written down because most writing was done in monasteries. It would be nice if we somehow could pinpoint when the nice Morgan disappeared from the Arthurian legend altogether.
Twomey, Michael. “’Morgan le Fay, Empress of the Wilderness’: A Newly Recovered Arthurian Text in London, BL Royal 12.C.IX.” Arthurian Literature XXV. Eds. Elizabeth Archibald and David F. Johnson. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2008. 67-91.
In case anyone is interested...
Here is a website that has a nice thorough description of that wonderful show, "King Arthur and The Knights of Justice." This is too awesome: http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/KingArthurAndTheKnightsOfJustice
It makes me think once again about why sports have (at least in a few cases) become a new way of demonstrating knightly behavior or adventures. The whole team aspect and competition is pretty apparent, but is there anything else that makes sports appealing? It sure does make it fun!
And here is the glorious intro. After watching this, I do not see how Arthur can ever NOT be relevant to modern ideas and preferences: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VNjhbOH8m2U
It makes me think once again about why sports have (at least in a few cases) become a new way of demonstrating knightly behavior or adventures. The whole team aspect and competition is pretty apparent, but is there anything else that makes sports appealing? It sure does make it fun!
And here is the glorious intro. After watching this, I do not see how Arthur can ever NOT be relevant to modern ideas and preferences: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VNjhbOH8m2U
King Arthur, King of Time & Space
Ah, bittersweet! I wanted to post a link to the webcomic Arthur, King of Time And Space, which tells the stories of Arthurian characters in their native Arthurian context, a modern context and a future SPACE ADVENTURE context. See the FAQ and this update for an idea of how that plays out.
This Lancelot one is my favorite.
This Lancelot one is my favorite.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Lancelot's Weeping
I just wanted to get in one final thought on the passage in Malory where Lancelot weeps. Honestly, I hadn’t given it that much consideration until we looked at the passage in class. However, the metaphor of Lancelot weeping “like a child being beaten” has been on my mind since we all talked about it. I found an interesting article on the subject by Stephen C. B. Atkinson entitled “Malory's "Healing of Sir Urry": Lancelot, the Earthly Fellowship, and the World of the Grail” (Studies in Philology 78. 4, Autumn, 1981, pp. 341-352). Basically, Atkinson lays out a few different readings of the scene: Lancelot weeps for mercy because his secret remains intact; Lancelot weeps for joy; Lancelot weeps because he is successful at this task, unlike the Grail quest; Lancelot’s weeping is actually Malory interjecting his own emotion into the text, crying over the forthcoming destruction of the Round Table society, etc.
In his own reading, Atkinson suggests that Lancelot weeps “like a child being beating” because he experiences a severe spiritual mercy. Lancelot demurs from healing Urry because he recognizes that it is a spiritual and not earthly quest, like the grail quest. Thus, he feels morally unworthy because of his secret relationship with Guinevere. As Atkinson writes,
“The real origin of Lancelot's concern lies in the Grail quest. If we recall the words of the recluse who interpreted for Lancelot the allegory behind the tournament of the black and white knights-which Lancelot, significantly, entered "in incresyng of hys shevalry" (931.25)-we can see that Lancelot's hesitation here stems from his recognition that this adventure demands spiritual, not earthly, resources. On the earlier occasion, the recluse told him: "as longe as ye were knyght of erthly knyghthode ye were the moste mervayloust man of the worlde, and moste adventurest. Now ... sitthen ye be sette amonge the knyghtis of hevynly adventures, if adventure falle you contrary . . . yet have ye no mervayle . . (933.9-14). Lancelot sees the healing of Urry not as a question of worldly fellowship but as a test of heavenly chivalry, and the presumption he seeks to avoid is not that of claiming to be the noblest of the earthly fellowship but of claiming to be a knight of heavenly adventures. Hence his speech to Urry: "For I shame sore with myselff that I shulde be thus requyred, for never was I able in worthynes to do so hyghe a thynge" (1152.13-15). The key here is the word "hyghe," which Lancelot used at the opening of the seventh tale to refer to the demands of the Grail quest-"the hyghe servyse in whom I dud my dyligente laboure" (1046.14-15)…. As evidence of God's mercy, both to Urry and to himself, the healing brings home to Lancelot the supreme benevolence of the power he has rebelled against.”
I find Atkinson’s interpretation of the scene convincing. Certainly, Lancelot experiences an intense, and intensely personal, moment in the healing of Urry. Reading Lancelot’s tears and the violent metaphor as a mercy from God that is so benevolent it hurts certainly elucidates the metaphor, and is in keeping with the other spiritual elements in the text.
Arthur and the Minimoys
I was wondering whether any of you have come across this 2002 book by Luc Besson, a film director? It's supposed to be an international best seller and is about the little people from Africa who are 3/4 of an inch tall. They are in ten-year-old Arthur's backyard and his grand dad who has since disappeared, found notebooks about them. There is a copy in my fifth grade classroom. The trailer is on youtube.
The part that amused me was when Arthur fights the henchmen with a stick to save the princess (of course) the stick breaks but he trips on a large stone and ...you guessed it! "[...] his hand landed on the hilt of the magic sword. Was this a sign from above?"
"It is the sword that gives him power," Miro replied. "It multiplies the strength of the just."
Another line: "Arthur is brave and valorous. His heart is pure and his cause is just." So he gets to accompany the princess on her quest.
Arthur-cum-Galahad/Percival? Lots of magic in it. :-)
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Arthur Corleone?
So I did a brief review of the Godfather trilogy last night and noted a couple of important parallels with the Arthur legend. First though, we should speculate on who exactly is the Arthur figure in the trilogy (feel free to comment on this).
Personally, I'm voting for Michael Corleone, though I think you could also argue that Vito is the Arthur figure. Why Michael? Here:
1. He's a legitimate heir to "the Family."
2. He's got a thing for pageantry.
3. His right-hand knight--er, gal--is named Kay, and she's pretty cynical about his 'court.'
4. He's free with his money.
5. He's got a soft spot in his heart for his nephew.
Fine and good. Based on this, if we're looking for analogues (which doesn't always work, but it isn't all bad), Kay is Kay, Vincent is Gawain, Connie might be Morgian, Vito could be Merlin (so could Tom Hagen), and so on. Different analogues emerge if you argue that Vito is an Arthur figure.
The interesting part is the presence of a table in so many crucial scenes throughout the entire trilogy. Better still is the shape of the table, and its relationship to power dynamics in whatever scene there is a table. Consider this hypothesis: wherever there is a round table, power dynamics are even, or at the very least, meant to appear as such. Wherever there is a square or rectangular table it can be considered a battle line between opponents. So, for instance, when Michael kills Sgt. McKlutsky and Victor Salazzo in The Godfather, Part 1, they are seated at a round table, signifying the assumed equality of all parties at the table. In this episode of the trilogy true equality exists at round tables where Michael and Kay talk at Connie's wedding (before they are disenfranchised spouses--spice?), and where Michael negotiates his courtship of his first wife, Apollonia, with her father, Signori Vitelli, in Sicily. When Vito meets with the heads of the five families, though, they meet at a long, rectangular table.
In The Godfather, Part 2 Michael 'holds court' at a round dinner table, when Frank Pentangiali points out that he didn't come to Michael's son's first communion to eat--he came to talk business. In the parallel history of the Family interlaced (!) throughout the second episode, Vito sits at a round table over dinner with his best friends, Tessio and Clemenza, and plots the murder of Don Fanucci. When Vito meets Fanucci later, though, it's over a square table. He pays the nice Don, and then kills him soon thereafter. Perhaps the most interesting round table scene in the second film, though, is the one in which Michael debriefs Fredo (SPOILER ALERT--SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU'VE NOT SEEN THIS FILM) after Fredo reveals his betrayal of Michael in Havana. Michael sits at a round table to debrief Fredo, but the latter is lying on a lounge chair away from the table. Kind of significant, huh? The 'knight' who left (or was asked to leave the table). Could Fredo be a Lancelot figure?
Also in the second episode: Pentangiali's entire monologue about the Family having been structured after the Roman legions. Does that make New York the City of Legions? Willie Cici mentions that when he first joined the Family he "was a soldier."
The third episode is the hardest to read as Arthurian. Let's think of financial legitimacy as the Grail. Michael promised Kay for years that soon "the Corleone family will be completely legitimate." In the quest for this Grail Michael loses all of his 'knights.' It is interesting that many of them are killed, gunned down while sitting at a round table in Atlantic City where, passing around trays of scintillating trinkets, they select whatever their heart desires--and all of this is made possible by the Grail of Michael Corleone's legitimate wealth. One reason I think Michael is an Arthur figure is that his brainchild, the Vito Corleone Foundation, is figure-headed by his daughter, Mary. In effect, Michael goes to war in the business world behind the shield of the foundation, and Mary is, as it were, painted on it.
I've got to hear some thoughts from you regarding this post. Am I imagining this? Is it really there? Is there some other explanation for my finding these things?
Personally, I'm voting for Michael Corleone, though I think you could also argue that Vito is the Arthur figure. Why Michael? Here:
1. He's a legitimate heir to "the Family."
2. He's got a thing for pageantry.
3. His right-hand knight--er, gal--is named Kay, and she's pretty cynical about his 'court.'
4. He's free with his money.
5. He's got a soft spot in his heart for his nephew.
Fine and good. Based on this, if we're looking for analogues (which doesn't always work, but it isn't all bad), Kay is Kay, Vincent is Gawain, Connie might be Morgian, Vito could be Merlin (so could Tom Hagen), and so on. Different analogues emerge if you argue that Vito is an Arthur figure.
The interesting part is the presence of a table in so many crucial scenes throughout the entire trilogy. Better still is the shape of the table, and its relationship to power dynamics in whatever scene there is a table. Consider this hypothesis: wherever there is a round table, power dynamics are even, or at the very least, meant to appear as such. Wherever there is a square or rectangular table it can be considered a battle line between opponents. So, for instance, when Michael kills Sgt. McKlutsky and Victor Salazzo in The Godfather, Part 1, they are seated at a round table, signifying the assumed equality of all parties at the table. In this episode of the trilogy true equality exists at round tables where Michael and Kay talk at Connie's wedding (before they are disenfranchised spouses--spice?), and where Michael negotiates his courtship of his first wife, Apollonia, with her father, Signori Vitelli, in Sicily. When Vito meets with the heads of the five families, though, they meet at a long, rectangular table.
In The Godfather, Part 2 Michael 'holds court' at a round dinner table, when Frank Pentangiali points out that he didn't come to Michael's son's first communion to eat--he came to talk business. In the parallel history of the Family interlaced (!) throughout the second episode, Vito sits at a round table over dinner with his best friends, Tessio and Clemenza, and plots the murder of Don Fanucci. When Vito meets Fanucci later, though, it's over a square table. He pays the nice Don, and then kills him soon thereafter. Perhaps the most interesting round table scene in the second film, though, is the one in which Michael debriefs Fredo (SPOILER ALERT--SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU'VE NOT SEEN THIS FILM) after Fredo reveals his betrayal of Michael in Havana. Michael sits at a round table to debrief Fredo, but the latter is lying on a lounge chair away from the table. Kind of significant, huh? The 'knight' who left (or was asked to leave the table). Could Fredo be a Lancelot figure?
Also in the second episode: Pentangiali's entire monologue about the Family having been structured after the Roman legions. Does that make New York the City of Legions? Willie Cici mentions that when he first joined the Family he "was a soldier."
The third episode is the hardest to read as Arthurian. Let's think of financial legitimacy as the Grail. Michael promised Kay for years that soon "the Corleone family will be completely legitimate." In the quest for this Grail Michael loses all of his 'knights.' It is interesting that many of them are killed, gunned down while sitting at a round table in Atlantic City where, passing around trays of scintillating trinkets, they select whatever their heart desires--and all of this is made possible by the Grail of Michael Corleone's legitimate wealth. One reason I think Michael is an Arthur figure is that his brainchild, the Vito Corleone Foundation, is figure-headed by his daughter, Mary. In effect, Michael goes to war in the business world behind the shield of the foundation, and Mary is, as it were, painted on it.
I've got to hear some thoughts from you regarding this post. Am I imagining this? Is it really there? Is there some other explanation for my finding these things?
Another Grail adaptation...only not so silly
After last night’s viewing of Monty Python and the Holy Grail I thought it would be nice to give all of you another modern interpretation of the Grail. This interpretation comes from a TV show that began in 2005 called Criminal Minds. The show follows the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU); a team of FBI profilers based in Quantico, VA. They are called to work on cases that extremely violent in nature to create a psychological profile of the criminal. It is an interesting show if you enjoy a different type of crime drama, but be prepared for some pretty disturbing stuff.
Anyways, I would like to bring talk about two episodes they had called “The Fisher King.” They were a two part finale of the first season. The general gist was that there was a killer who kept mailing clues to the members of the BAU about a series of murders. Just so happens he calls himself the Fisher King. The killer kept repeating, “The youngest is the most important.” Now I must warn you. Major spoilers!!!!! There were 3 or so killings, and then the killer began referencing a girl that has been missing, who the team still thought alive. The plot thickens!
Here is where the Grail stuff comes into play. It turns out that the killer was a man who was horrible injured in a house fire; his whole family died except for his daughter who he eventual put up for adoption while he was in the hospital. The man, covered in horrific scars, ended up in a sanitarium for a few years…it just so happens that one of the guys, Reid, on the team’s mother lived there. She had been a professor and loved The Quest for the Holy Grail and liked to share the story.
Turns out when the man was released, he kidnapped his daughter because he thinks she is the Grail. He also thinks Reid is Percival, and if he asks the right question, all his wounds will be healed. Reid refuses to ask “the question” and tries to emphasize that fact that his daughter is real and alive. Turns out man is wearing a bomb!!! Here is their exchange:
"Just ask the question and I will be healed and you may take the grail. Just ask the question, Sir Knight."
"I can't. Mr. Garner. A fisher king wound cannot be healed by someone else. It's not a wound of the body. It is a wound of the memory. It's a wound that only you can find and that only you can heal. There is only one very important question, only one that matters. Can you forgive yourself?" says Reid.
"I couldn't save her. Tell me where she is and you can save her know. You already know where she is. I sent your mother the map."
Garner realizes there is no way he can be healed. "No, I can't forgive myself." Then he blows himself up while Reid dashes away.
Don’t worry…they save the girl.
However, this is an interesting take of the Grail story. It takes a story that was meant to be taken at face value, and turns it into a story of the failings of the mind.
Here is a website with detailed descriptions of the episodes!!
http://www.tv.com/criminal-minds/the-fisher-king-1/episode/700959/recap.html?tag=episode_recap;recap
http://www.tv.com/criminal-minds/the-fisher-king-2/episode/805102/recap.html?tag=episode_recap;recap
Anyways, I would like to bring talk about two episodes they had called “The Fisher King.” They were a two part finale of the first season. The general gist was that there was a killer who kept mailing clues to the members of the BAU about a series of murders. Just so happens he calls himself the Fisher King. The killer kept repeating, “The youngest is the most important.” Now I must warn you. Major spoilers!!!!! There were 3 or so killings, and then the killer began referencing a girl that has been missing, who the team still thought alive. The plot thickens!
Here is where the Grail stuff comes into play. It turns out that the killer was a man who was horrible injured in a house fire; his whole family died except for his daughter who he eventual put up for adoption while he was in the hospital. The man, covered in horrific scars, ended up in a sanitarium for a few years…it just so happens that one of the guys, Reid, on the team’s mother lived there. She had been a professor and loved The Quest for the Holy Grail and liked to share the story.
Turns out when the man was released, he kidnapped his daughter because he thinks she is the Grail. He also thinks Reid is Percival, and if he asks the right question, all his wounds will be healed. Reid refuses to ask “the question” and tries to emphasize that fact that his daughter is real and alive. Turns out man is wearing a bomb!!! Here is their exchange:
"Just ask the question and I will be healed and you may take the grail. Just ask the question, Sir Knight."
"I can't. Mr. Garner. A fisher king wound cannot be healed by someone else. It's not a wound of the body. It is a wound of the memory. It's a wound that only you can find and that only you can heal. There is only one very important question, only one that matters. Can you forgive yourself?" says Reid.
"I couldn't save her. Tell me where she is and you can save her know. You already know where she is. I sent your mother the map."
Garner realizes there is no way he can be healed. "No, I can't forgive myself." Then he blows himself up while Reid dashes away.
Don’t worry…they save the girl.
However, this is an interesting take of the Grail story. It takes a story that was meant to be taken at face value, and turns it into a story of the failings of the mind.
Here is a website with detailed descriptions of the episodes!!
http://www.tv.com/criminal-minds/the-fisher-king-1/episode/700959/recap.html?tag=episode_recap;recap
http://www.tv.com/criminal-minds/the-fisher-king-2/episode/805102/recap.html?tag=episode_recap;recap
Howard Pyle's Arthurian illustrations online
If you'd like to see the illustrations that Howard Pyle created for his famous rendition of the story of Arthur, then click here.
Monday, December 7, 2009
angels collide in the atmosphere
This is geeky to a legendary degree, but I feel that's appropriate: below is the tracklist for an Arthurian mix CD. I may be high on essentialist postulations and creative riffing, but I think it's amazing.
ARTHURIANA
1. Intro: Angels Collide (Amy Correia)
2. Round Table: Every Night's A Saturday Night With You (The Drifters)
3. Round Table: Security (Otis Redding)
4. Round Table: Tell Me Baby (Red Hot Chili Peppers)
5. Arthur 1: Banking On A Myth (Andrew Bird)
6. Lancelot 1: Anonymity Is The New Fame (Frankel)
7. Lancelot 1: Mystery Of Love (David Gray)
8. Guinevere: Viva La Vida (Lady Gaga)
9. Gawain 1: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy (Queen)
10. Perceval 1: Another Mystery (Dar Williams)
11. Holy Grail: The Great Beyond (The Fray)
12. Holy Grail: Ship In A Bottle (Bright Eyes)
13. Gawain 2: The Limit To Your Love (Feist)
14. Holy Grail: Snakes & Ladders (Joss Stone)
15. Lancelot 2: Wisdom (David Gray)
16. Galahad: Studying Stones (Ani DiFranco)
17. Perceval 2: These Arms (Donavon Frankenreiter)
18. Parzival: Empty (Ray LaMontagne)
19. Parzival: Understanding (Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band)
20. Bors: Old Dances (Kate Nash)
21. Merlin: The Dynamo of Volition (Jason Mraz)
22. Mordred: Dream On (Depeche Mode)
23. Tristan: Tristan (Patrick Wolf)
24. Mordred: The Million You Never Made (Ani DiFranco)
25. Gawain 3: No Children (The Mountain Goats)
26. Mordred: Daddy I Know (Norman Greenbaum)
27. Arthur 2: I'm On A Boat (Lonely Island feat. T-Pain)
28. Arthur 2: Living Room (David Gray)
29. Arthur 2: Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier (Corb Lund)
30. Outro: We Want A Rock (They Might Be Giants)
ARTHURIANA
1. Intro: Angels Collide (Amy Correia)
2. Round Table: Every Night's A Saturday Night With You (The Drifters)
3. Round Table: Security (Otis Redding)
4. Round Table: Tell Me Baby (Red Hot Chili Peppers)
5. Arthur 1: Banking On A Myth (Andrew Bird)
6. Lancelot 1: Anonymity Is The New Fame (Frankel)
7. Lancelot 1: Mystery Of Love (David Gray)
8. Guinevere: Viva La Vida (Lady Gaga)
9. Gawain 1: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy (Queen)
10. Perceval 1: Another Mystery (Dar Williams)
11. Holy Grail: The Great Beyond (The Fray)
12. Holy Grail: Ship In A Bottle (Bright Eyes)
13. Gawain 2: The Limit To Your Love (Feist)
14. Holy Grail: Snakes & Ladders (Joss Stone)
15. Lancelot 2: Wisdom (David Gray)
16. Galahad: Studying Stones (Ani DiFranco)
17. Perceval 2: These Arms (Donavon Frankenreiter)
18. Parzival: Empty (Ray LaMontagne)
19. Parzival: Understanding (Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band)
20. Bors: Old Dances (Kate Nash)
21. Merlin: The Dynamo of Volition (Jason Mraz)
22. Mordred: Dream On (Depeche Mode)
23. Tristan: Tristan (Patrick Wolf)
24. Mordred: The Million You Never Made (Ani DiFranco)
25. Gawain 3: No Children (The Mountain Goats)
26. Mordred: Daddy I Know (Norman Greenbaum)
27. Arthur 2: I'm On A Boat (Lonely Island feat. T-Pain)
28. Arthur 2: Living Room (David Gray)
29. Arthur 2: Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier (Corb Lund)
30. Outro: We Want A Rock (They Might Be Giants)
The Tragedy of Sir Gareth and the End of the Morte Darthur
Malory certainly knew how to shock the wary as well as the savvy reader. I was startled out of my wits when I read the passage where Lancelot kills the two brothers, especially Sir Gareth. I am not sure why I was so saddened. Maybe Sir Gareth seems so good and pure riding in and out of the pages of the text or it could be that after a semester of reading about the knights of the Round Table, they have become a part of us.
I love the new character given to Sir Gawain that brings him on a par with our previous versions of Gawain and then there is an understandable volte face when Gawain swears to kill Lancelot. For some strange reason I did not want him to attack Lancelot.
The character of Lancelot really puzzles me. We are told that Tristan and Isode could not help their adultery but what about Lancelot? What drink has he had? It is a bit unnerving how he xalls the queen 'cleane' and how he swears he is not a recreant knight that that he loved Guinevere as Arthur's wife. He claims never to have committed treason against Arthur. What is Lancelot or Malory thinking? How are we supposed to analyze this? Is it a little white lie? Does it mean that lying to save a situation is acceptable and godly?
As for Sir Galahad the pure knight, why was he so keen on killing or attacking knights as he made his way so secretly in the forest? That whole Sankgreal story gets to be too mystic. Sir Galahad is really full of himself and his goodness. He does not form a fellowship with the other knights, yet his seat is there at the Round Table.
It does not make sense that he refuses to ride with Percival and Bors.
I like Malory's saving of Guinevere in the end. She hides in the Tower and then takes the veil. I think she is shown every inch the queen, holding her head up. She is never the schemer accept that she calls Lancelot to her. I read recently that many readers are surprised that Guinevere did not claim a nose bleed, and why when there were other knigts, was Sir Kay the suspect?
Another intersting point is when Gaherys dies for the queen, he who decapitated his own mother!
Finally, I cannot believe that our long journey through the realm of Logres is over!
I love the new character given to Sir Gawain that brings him on a par with our previous versions of Gawain and then there is an understandable volte face when Gawain swears to kill Lancelot. For some strange reason I did not want him to attack Lancelot.
The character of Lancelot really puzzles me. We are told that Tristan and Isode could not help their adultery but what about Lancelot? What drink has he had? It is a bit unnerving how he xalls the queen 'cleane' and how he swears he is not a recreant knight that that he loved Guinevere as Arthur's wife. He claims never to have committed treason against Arthur. What is Lancelot or Malory thinking? How are we supposed to analyze this? Is it a little white lie? Does it mean that lying to save a situation is acceptable and godly?
As for Sir Galahad the pure knight, why was he so keen on killing or attacking knights as he made his way so secretly in the forest? That whole Sankgreal story gets to be too mystic. Sir Galahad is really full of himself and his goodness. He does not form a fellowship with the other knights, yet his seat is there at the Round Table.
It does not make sense that he refuses to ride with Percival and Bors.
I like Malory's saving of Guinevere in the end. She hides in the Tower and then takes the veil. I think she is shown every inch the queen, holding her head up. She is never the schemer accept that she calls Lancelot to her. I read recently that many readers are surprised that Guinevere did not claim a nose bleed, and why when there were other knigts, was Sir Kay the suspect?
Another intersting point is when Gaherys dies for the queen, he who decapitated his own mother!
Finally, I cannot believe that our long journey through the realm of Logres is over!
Sunday, December 6, 2009
BBC's Merlin & Revision
There are a lot of things I like about the new BBC show Merlin. There are also a lot of things I am embarrassed to admit I like (the special effects, for example. Or the blatant use of teenage sexual tension)… but whatever my feelings on the subject I thought I’d take my last blog post (*tear*) to talk about what they’re doing and why you should watch it.
Essentially, Merlin is a winking, self-aware revisal of the King Arthur legend. It knows very much so that it is a television show. It is not attempting to be the next great Arthurian legend, and so it has the freedom to take risks with character, rearrange the timelines, and show its own preferences. Ironically, however, I could have just described Le Morte D’Arthur or the Once and Future King… I think the difference is (aside from format, which as I am sure all of you know revises a story by itself) that Merlin isn’t being written in a time of crisis; there’s no fire burning beneath Merlin’s message other than “Isn’t this awesome?!”
Perhaps I am wrong, but there you are.
Remember, Merlin is not made to win the Oscar; it’s the ridiculousness that is a BBC dramedy. There have been two filler-ish episodes this season, but by in large each one is devoted to moving the recreated Arthurian legend forward into it’s glorious united kingdom of Logres conclusion. It uses the television show to address feminist critics & rewrites of Arthur (Morgana & Morgause can fight, Gwen is Arthur’s advisor, the “old religion” is magic known to priestesses or sorceresses), issues of class struggles and censorship which the BBC so loves to delve into, and everlasting question of what is it that makes Arthur so interesting. Why care? Why by in to the legend of this great destiny? By shifting the entire focus to the formation of Arthur and Merlin as leaders, and subsequently to the formation of the court around them (against all conservative, parental odds!) the show attempt to answer these questions and explore the world as its own. At the same time, it’s just a TV show. By being content with itself it provides good entertainment and a fascinating take on the story. I, personally, am excited to find out what they do next.
I wrote a lengthy spoiler on my own blog. I tired to convey the sense of the show and what it does above, but if you’re more curious to see exactly what the revisions and barrowings are, read the lengthy blog entry and enjoy! I didn’t want to take up too much space here. If you watch the show after reading it I do not think you will be disappointed. Half of the fun is seeing how they change things from Tennyson and Malory, but it’s also in the way they do it. I laugh out loud at the dialog and though the show has a somewhat rocky start, the actors and directors have very much so grown to understand the characters and present them delightfully. My summary of the plot/ characters is rather long, hence the need for 2 posts when it was originally meant to be 1! You’ve been warned.
Kid Galahad
The other night, I was flipping through movie channels instead of working on my papers,and I came across the movie Kid Galahad on TCM, which I had to stop and watch. This movie, from 1937 (it was remade in the 60s with Elvis in the title role), is the story of a young bellhop named Ward Guisenberry who doesn't drink, smoke, go out, or, um, let's say associate with women. He works as a bellhop in a big city, but he is saving up money to buy a farm. Basically, he's a slightly annoying but very good-looking goody-goody. One night, Ward gets sent up to the penthouse to mix drinks at a party being held by a boxing manager, Nick Donati, and his girlfriend, Fluff (played by Bette Davis!). All the girls think he's cute, which upsets Donati, and a brawl breaks out. Ward comes to Fluff's rescue when she is threatened by one of the men, and it turns out he packs a mean punch. So Donati makes him a boxing star, and along the way, Fluff dubs him "Kid Galahad." Fluff and Donati's sister both fall for him, and things get messy. I'll confess, I didn't watch the whole thing, but I thought it was worth a mention! Here's a trailer, the part that's most worth watching starts at 1:57. Happy writing, everyone!
Arthur… Christ?
Marilyn Braxton mentioned something in class this past week about the similarity between Arthur and Christ, and how that affects our reading of the legend. If I recall correctly, the general thrust of Marilyn's comment was that Arthur could in some ways replace Christ as a returning king, because Arthur's deeds are "more realistic"; it was something like that (Marilyn, if you read this please chime in—I could use a reminder of exactly what you said). In any case, Geoffrey Ashe says something similar:
"Arthur is not only a magnificent prince: he is occasionally symbolic of Christ. Spenser writes during the war with Spain, and pushes the Tudors' messianic pretensions farther than ever. Elizabeth, he implies, presides over a realm which is God's instrument for overthrowing the powers of evil and achieving the Apocalypse. The Arthurian Monarchy has a tincture of the divine."[1]
What's interesting about Ashe's point here is that it makes an observation similar to Marilyn's, but arrives at almost the opposite conclusion. Whereas Arthur-as-humanized-Christ may seem to some more relatable, Arthur-as-Christified-(human-)king is more politically justifiable, especially for those who could claim their descent from him. The paradox is simply that the identification cuts both ways. On the one hand, Arthur is a political analogue to a religious trend that occurred in Britain during the same millennium, and on the other he is a political figure turned national myth.[2] It is no wonder this legend has been used and reused to justify whatever monarchy is in power, or as the rationale for some incumbent or another when the succession was in doubt. Nor is it a surprise that people continue to return to the legend for hope, or for a reminiscence on a time when things were the way they should be.
I am unabashedly interested in fantasy literature and its medieval roots for this very reason. On the one hand, fairy stories such as the ones we've read this semester can be manipulated into propaganda. On the other, they evoke from the reader significant responses based on his/her desires to see specific outcomes in society. As such, fantasy and fairy stories are similar to knives: they are either tools used to teach, or weapons used to slash society to pieces.
- Ashe, Geoffrey, et. al. The Quest for Arthur's Britain (New York: Frederick A. Praeger Publishers, 1968.
- This seems like a good place to note that religion is inherently tied to myth. While myth need not grow into religion, when and where religion develops behind it there is myth. See the Mythopoeic Society's Statement of Editorial Purpose, which states: "Religion and myth are intertwined expressions of the same impulse in humankind; therefore, it is inevitable that the religious views of an essayist may at times be discernible in a paper. However, keep in mind that our audience is very broadly ecumenical, and that any denigration, explicit or implied, of another's religion or lack of it is against our editorial policies."
Final Malory Thoughts: Bromance, Character notes, & Strains on the Fellowship
“Turk and I met over a Bloomin’ Onion. I like to think of it as a metaphor for our Bromance, ‘cause it’s delicious, but not so healthy.” -JD from Scrubs season 9, episode 2.
Fellowship of the Table Round is damned by conflicting family values… As I noted in the margins of Le Morte D’Arthur (somewhere in the middle of yet another slaying during the book of Sir Trystams de Lyones): eventually, someone will have to pay for all this slaying!
And pay they have. It’s fascinating that the very strength that built the fellowship is the strength that brings it down completely. These knight’s formed bonds out in the wilderness having adventures and their fame built the Round Table from an idea to the whole world’s aspiration. Yet these friendships, family factions and above all Bromances are what tear apart the table. Arthur expected everyone to hold the fellowship of the Rount Table first and personal issues second… he could have made them swear to this, but that wouldn’t have mattered (if lady’s heads can go out the window, so can a fellowship). They needed to believe in it (to use T.H. White’s phrase), but in the end how can so many strained alliances not come to a head?
We had several lovely bromances blooming (Trystam and Lancelot being the centrifugal force of Bromance to which all other bros aspired- Sir Palomydis, Percyval, Lamorac, and Gareth all have a go at broing it out with T & L, but though others may aspire to their Bromance no one may join in it… until Trystam disappears and Lancelot decides to keep his broings on in the family for the remainder of the book) and then it all falls apart. Well, like JD’s metaphorical Onion, the relationships forming within the round table are lovely on their own, but for the fellowship they are deeply unhealthy. You cannot have a love greater than the Table Round, and everybody does.
Let’s explore our key players loves that extend beyond the fellowship:
-Lancelot: Gwenevere, Saintliness, disguise.
-Arthur: Nothing… except maybe an instinct to protect his family even if he doesn’t like them as much as his pal Lance… whom he can always recognize even in disguise (whatever happened to L & A Bromance? By ignoring Lancelot’s formative year, Malory makes their relationship confusing and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.
-Gwenever: Lancelot. Arthur (she seems to enjoy being around him, just not sleeping with him) and freaking out all the time in ways that confuse her character because Malory made a choppy Queen at best.
-Gawain: Orkney. Orkney. Orkney. Lady’s heads. Orkney…. wait, now I love Arthur! I did all along really, I just couldn’t show it… I get jealous of Lancelot…
-Aggravain: Chopping off his mother’s head and killing people in general.
-Mordred: Power. The occasional murder. Orkney (because it will = power)
-Gareth: Getting Lancelot’s love over his creepy brothers.
-Bors: Staying alive and keeping Lance out of trouble. Fat chance.
-Galahad: Jesus. I mean me. I mean Jesus.
-Kay: Getting people to notice he’s in the book since Malory gave all of his lines to Gawain.
-Sir Bedevere: Ditto, replace Gawain with Lancelot. The Welsh liked me. Stupid Frenchies.
-Everyone else: If they’ve stayed alive this long, they deserve a meddle. They won’t be alive much longer after the final battle.
You’ll notice I’ve listed some character conflicts as well as conflicts within Malory’s text. There’s really no point whining about it though, because even with flaunts listed and not listed Malory is the foundational text for all Arthuriana written after it (often subconsciously). It’s the first time everything had been assimilated into one text and even though I have raging fights with it on occasion, having completed it just now I can’t help but think.
Well damn, that’s a really good story.
&, feel free to argue this, but isn’t that the point?
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Fairy-Stories?
So, in my short paper I argued that the value of the Arthur legend lies in its repeated use as fodder for various stories since the tradition's inception; not all of the stories it has inspired could be considered Arthurian, however. I decided to pursue this line of thought because of two writers in particular. First, there is a passing comment by the eminent J.R.R. Tolkien in his essay, "On Fairy-Stories": "Oberon, Mab, and Pigwiggen may be diminutive elves or fairies, as Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot are not; but the good and evil story of Arthur's court is a 'fairy-story' rather than this tale of Oberon."[1] Tolkien's reasoning here lies in that "fairy-stories are not in normal English usage stories about fairies or elves, but stories about Fairy, that is Faërie, the realm or state in which fairies have their being."[2] After reading the first part of Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of the Kings of Britain it is hard to consider historical Britain all that Faërie-esque. But it takes only a perusal of Merlin's role in Geoffrey's history to realize that Britain as we know it, 'magical' though it may be, differs widely from the realities that Geoffrey is willing to countenance. The tradition continues in this way. I think the other reason the stories in the Arthur legend are fairy-stories is a matter of their strangeness. If there is a recurring theme in our in-class discussion this semester, it is the strangeness of what we have found in these texts. Whether it is Gawain's propensity to cut heads off, the oddness of trusting hermits, or beheaded green men who ride off carrying their severed gourds, we are constantly confronted by the odd and the uncanny (which, come to think of it, probably gives Dr. Wenthe the fodder he needs to discuss Arthur's relationship to 'the other').
Some other noteworthy characteristics of fairy-stories:
- If satire is present, one thing mustn't be ridiculed: magic.
- The following are not (or are not necessarily) fairy-stories: beast fables, travellers' tales, and stories that merely occur in someone's dreams (sorry, Alice).
- They are presented as true.
- They are often the products of older stories, the matter of which may not be readily available to us.
- They make fantasies seem real, and in so doing, manipulate the desires of the hearer/reader.
- Fairy-stories have a moral dimension that prohibits, and they preserve this dimension as they are handed down through history, possibly because the moral code encoded therein is of a mythic timbre.
What do you all think? Based on these criteria, what would be the benefit of studying the Arthur legend as a collection of fairy tales? One more thing: what did you all decide is the value of the Arthurian tradition?
1. J.R.R. Tolkien, "On Fairy-Stories," in The Tolkien Reader: Stories, Poems and Commentaries by the Author of 5 The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings (New York: Ballantine Books, 1966), 36.
2. Ibid.
now ys warre comyn to us all
.
[SPOILERS FOR THE END OF MORTE DARTHUR]
As I've mentioned in class a few times, this was my first time reading Le Morte Darthur, and as I've intimated, I've run a little lukewarm on it--- until The Dethe of Arthur. There was no part of this book that didn't make me do this:
D:
and yet there was no one in the book I didn't love, and what felt irritatingly unfocused and obfuscated in the book heretofore now seems really masterful. I don't know if I just haven't been paying attention or what, but the characters seemed more nuanced and polychromatic than they had-- did anybody else feel like that?
Gawain, for instance, who went from being the embodiment of thuggish, petty knightly privilege to being a real dude, loyal to Guinevere and Lancelot, loyal to Arthur, begrieved by the loss of his whole family, and then at the last putting all his hope in Lancelot again.
...
D:
I think the reason why the last book of Le Morte Darthur resonates with me in a way that the rest of the work didn't is that the running theme of fracture/disconnect/contradiction that had been nagging me finally coalesced into a legible tragedy. All of the "What? But you just said--!" and the "What the crap are you doing?" became illustrations of the inevitable and realistic unraveling of the Fellowship of the Round Table. Nowhere was this more apparent to me than after the initial split of Arthur and Lancelot, when Malory notes:
"Whan they harde that Kynge Arthure and Sir Launcelot were at debate, many knyghtes were glad, and many were sory of their debate." (657)
Really? Many knyghtes were glad, while many were sory? This suggests a much deeper rift than "I'm siding with Lancelot" vs. "I'm siding with Arthur." It begs the question of how long dissolution has been percolating in the minds of the Fellows of the Round Table-- how many instances of contradiction, disguise and/or general bad behavior that we've seen from our villains and heroes were the result of that percolation.
[SPOILERS FOR THE END OF MORTE DARTHUR]
As I've mentioned in class a few times, this was my first time reading Le Morte Darthur, and as I've intimated, I've run a little lukewarm on it--- until The Dethe of Arthur. There was no part of this book that didn't make me do this:
D:
and yet there was no one in the book I didn't love, and what felt irritatingly unfocused and obfuscated in the book heretofore now seems really masterful. I don't know if I just haven't been paying attention or what, but the characters seemed more nuanced and polychromatic than they had-- did anybody else feel like that?
Gawain, for instance, who went from being the embodiment of thuggish, petty knightly privilege to being a real dude, loyal to Guinevere and Lancelot, loyal to Arthur, begrieved by the loss of his whole family, and then at the last putting all his hope in Lancelot again.
...
D:
I think the reason why the last book of Le Morte Darthur resonates with me in a way that the rest of the work didn't is that the running theme of fracture/disconnect/contradiction that had been nagging me finally coalesced into a legible tragedy. All of the "What? But you just said--!" and the "What the crap are you doing?" became illustrations of the inevitable and realistic unraveling of the Fellowship of the Round Table. Nowhere was this more apparent to me than after the initial split of Arthur and Lancelot, when Malory notes:
"Whan they harde that Kynge Arthure and Sir Launcelot were at debate, many knyghtes were glad, and many were sory of their debate." (657)
Really? Many knyghtes were glad, while many were sory? This suggests a much deeper rift than "I'm siding with Lancelot" vs. "I'm siding with Arthur." It begs the question of how long dissolution has been percolating in the minds of the Fellows of the Round Table-- how many instances of contradiction, disguise and/or general bad behavior that we've seen from our villains and heroes were the result of that percolation.
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