Idylls of the King - Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Idylls of the King (Tennyson, 1885)

Taking Malory and others as his source, Tennyson crafts an epic series of poems in blank verse that capture grand ideals and regal melancholy. Using the hypnotic sway of his seemingly effortless marching meter, he gracefully retells and reshapes the stories into a less mystical, more realistic adaptation that focuses on the characters rather than the deeds.

Greater minds than mine have analyzed Tennyson's poetic talent, so I will restrict my stylistic comments to this - the poems have a natural ebb and flow, differing only in rhythm from prose narrative one minute, bursting forth in song at emotional moments the next.  Take this moment when Enid stands bravely against a thug who, assuming her husband Geraint is dead, is trying to take her for himself:

"In this poor gown my dear lord found me first,
And loved me serving in my father's hall;
In this poor gown I rode with him to court,
And there the Queen array'd me like the sun;
In this poor gown he bade me clothe myself,
When now we rode upon this fatal quest
Of honor, where no honor can be gain'd;
And this poor gown I will not cast aside
Until himself arise a living man,
And bid me cast it. I have griefs enough;
Pray you be gentle, pray you let me be.
I never loved, can never love but him.
Yea, God, I pray you of your gentleness,
He being as he is, to let me be."

The current carries the reader along in a unique way, with an intentionality of syllable and sound that marks these tales as epic poetry while still allowing them to be read almost as a novel.

Indeed, the narrative virtues here should not be overlooked, as Tennyson interweaves several subtle and intelligent symbols, themes, and plot elements worthy of the best Victorian novelist. The nuances of the characters, the masterfully shifting tone, and the placement of action weave the tales together into a work of maturity and purpose. In part an elegy for his own England, Tennyson idealizes the court of Arthur without white-washing its sins. Optimistic stories like Gareth and Lynette and Geraint and Enid gradually give way before the poignant tragedy of Lancelot and Elaine or the King Lear-like dissolution of The Last Tournament. Tennyson shows us hearts blooming into love fulfilled and dying with love disappointed.

Arbitrary rating: 4.5 out of 5 subtle and intelligent symbols

Le Morte D'Arthur - Sir Thomas Malory

Le Morte D'Arthur (Malory, 1485)

Itself a compilation and translation of myriad earlier works, Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur is the source of most of today's Arthurian fiction, and it was certainly Pyle's source. Though I had no right to call Pyle's prose liturgical; compared to this, he's a regular James Joyce.  Malory's prose narrative ("the wholle booke of Arthur", as he wanted to title it) is chopped, brittle, repetitive, confusing, certainly archaic, but truly fascinating and ultimately rewarding.

There are several different levels on which one could enjoy this work.  The vocabulary alone makes this worth a read: where else can we encounter lost words like bisene, maugre, froward, hight, dight, and pight?  Or lost usages like medley (battle), maiden (pure young man), siege (seat, chair), or (before), glamour (magic spell), and churl (simple peasant, no negative connotation)?

Another enjoyable approach to this book is to take it as a catalog of common characters, plots, genres, and other modern-day storytelling elements we take for granted. Within the pages I find traditional fantasy adventures - slaying giants, rescuing maidens, shape-shifting, casting spells, retrieving enchanted objects which bestow power - alongside the modern sports movie, war movie, superhero movie, and political drama, complete with James Bond one-liners and a goofy buddy sidekick. One story involves Lancelot fighting a knight with one hand tied behind his back.  Then we get to the quest for the Holy Grail, and the brilliant, gorgeous allegorical images steep us into the best of medieval visionary literature.

Perhaps my favorite angle from which to take Le Morte D'Arthur is as a study in what makes a story good, and in what scuttles a good story. Malory's prose is very literal, at times a bare recitation of events and plot points in quick succession.  Given such a limited sphere to work in, we still see real human emotion, psychology, and folly shine through in the facts of the stories, and the bits that show a glimmer of storyteller's art shine forth stunningly.

On the flip side, Malory seems to show little concern for what we would consider the modern storyteller's responsibilities.  Several episodes are abandoned mid-plot - even the fate of Sir Tristram, whose adventures form the basis of the middle third of the book, is only revealed in a narrative aside several hundred pages later. Key plot points which will affect other stories down the line are only experienced as foreshadowing or in a quick backward glance - "By the way, Sir Lamork was slain traitorously by Sir Gawain after the tournament."  Also, though the book starts with Arthur's birth and ends with his death, everything in between occurs in a highly jumbled timeline.  For example, during an early battle to quell rebellion in England, Arthur wields Excalibur and leads his knights of the Round Table against the foe. Later, Arthur obtains Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake. After that, he establishes the Round Table for the first time...  Character names are repeated, and many characters, plots, and events come in twos or threes.  There are two swords in the stone, two ladies of the lake, two different injured kings in the Grail story (injured by two different dolorous strokes), two different high political love triangles, countless mysterious boats that come floating in out of nowhere, and several pseudo-Merlins who fill his role after he makes his inglorious exit. This widespread disorganization and confusion makes for a very challenging read, yet it is also exhilirating.  And it makes those odd moments of clarity and intentionality stand out even more.

Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 glimmers of the storyteller's art