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

The Story of King Arthur and His Knights - Howard Pyle

The Story of King Arthur and His Knights (Pyle, 1903)

Pyle retells classic Arthurian legends while adding some tales of his own. The Story of King Arthur covers the fabled beginnings:  the sword in the stone, the getting of Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake, the wooing of Guinevere, and the establishment of the Round Table.

Again, Pyle's prose is enchanting. Using the same semi-olde style from Robin Hood, he mixes an almost liturgical descriptive style ("and the two knights came together, and the sound of their horses was like thunder, then they burst their spears upon their shields") with poetic, enchanting descriptions of scenery and landscapes. Grand pageantry and pastoral idylls mix freely with knightly combat and mystical magic.

Most of the episodes include a somewhat didactic ending, deriving the moral of the story for young readers, but these morals are typically spot-on, and they add charm to the story. There is plenty of action, intigue, and danger, and the characters are nuanced with real faults and foibles. The "noble" Arthur going incognito as a gardener's boy proves a worthless and insubordinate employee, and his "noble" knights treat him like a nobody before they realize who he is. Sir Gawaine begrudgingly agrees to wed an old woman who saved Arthur's life, and Sir Pellias lets himself be captured repeatedly by lesser knights hoping to catch a glimpse of their lady, his love. The stories are instantly engrossing and eminently entertaining.

Pyle would go on to write three other Arthur books, which I will keep on my radar. Such enjoyable reading is hard to come by.

Arbitrary rating:  4 out of 5 fabled beginnings

The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood - Howard Pyle

The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood (Pyle, 1883)

In this classic collection, American author and illustrator Howard Pyle brings the old English folk tales and ballads of Robin Hood to life, collecting them together in a semi-unified narrative that offers blissful escape, adventure, and humor.

Perhaps the ultimate bromance, Pyle's Robin Hood is filled with brawlers who turn into buddies, merry pranks, light-hearted outlawry, and other archetypal male bonding scenarios.  Poor Maid Marian gets two mentions in passing as Robin briefly calls her to mind before moving on to some new adventure. This version is all about brotherhood, excellence in combative sport, and Robin's peculiar sense of justice. Rich, stingy fellows like the Sherrif of Nottingham and the Bishop of Hereford each have their turn footing the bill for a dinner party in Sherwood Forest, which, aside from the part where their money is removed from them, they can't help but enjoy, being in such merry company.

Though Pyle is mostly remembered today as an artist and illustrator, and indeed his black-and-white faux-medieval illustrations for Robin Hood are classics in and of themselves, his skill as a prose writer and storyteller should not be overlooked. Pyle weaves intriguing and entertaining tales with enviable ease and grace, drawing you in to the landscape and characters as naturally as a brook running through the forest.

And of course, the stories are classics:  Robin winning the Sherrif's archery tournament in disguise, Friar Tuck and Robin forcing each to give the other a piggy-back ride across a river, Little John busting the head of the Sherrif's lackey who refuses to open the kitchen for him, and diverse daring rescues of compatriots from pending execution or near incarceration. As Pyle says in his preface: "You who so plod amid serious things that you feel it shame to give yourself up even for a few short moments to mirth and joyousness in the land of Fancy; you who think that life hath nought to do with innocent laughter that can harm no one; these pages are not for you."

Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 brawlers turned buddies

Puck of Pook's Hill - Rudyard Kipling

Puck of Pook's Hill (Kipling, 1906)

It has been a long time since I've read Kipling, and I wasn't sure what to expect from this lesser-known children's book, but I was delighted to find a masterful collection of subtly intertwined stories mixing history, fantasy, and realistic intrigue.

The framing story involves two kids acting out Midsummer Night's Dream in their yard, which happens to be a fairy circle. Puck himself materializes and promises to tell them stories of old England, either from his own mouth or from the mouths of real people from history. They meet a noble Norman knight who came over with William the Conqueror and embraces Saxon life; a Roman centurion guarding Hadrian's Wall against the Picts and Vikings; a Renaissance architect who uncovers smugglers in his hometown; and a money-lending Jew (aren't they all? sheesh) whose wise dealing leads to the signing of the Magna Carta. Each chapter is bookended by poems relating to the story or theme.

I had forgotten how simply yet powerfully Kipling writes. Nary a wasted word in the evocative prose, while the poetry almost created its accompanying music on its own. When I was young, I read The Jungle Books, Captains Courageous, and various short stories and poems for content only - I think I need to go back and reread them to soak in the splendid writing technique. I guess Rudyard didn't win the Nobel Prize for nothing.

The only weakness (other than the anti-Semitic stereotype, though to be fair, the story displays the opposite of an anti-Semitic sentiment) is the framing story.  The kids are fairly faceless and don't do much besides listen, but we get glimmers of childish enthusiasm here and there. The stories are also geared heavily toward British children as a celebration of their history, but they are so well told, any nationality of child (or adult) could enjoy them.

Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 enchanted fairy circles

American Notes - Charles Dickens

American Notes: For General Circulation (Dickens, 1842)

After regaling myself with Martin Chuzzlewit, I figured it would be as good a time as any to read my first Dickens non-fiction, seeing as it immediately preceded Martin and touches a similar subject: those wild, rebellious colonials.

While certainly no sweeping national analysis a la De Tocqueville, Dickens's American Notes capture several enlightening and informational snapshots of what America was in the 1840s, from Boston to St. Louis, from partisan politics to deviations from the good Queen's English.

Dickens's interest in social reform and justice probably made him a boring travel companion. While his wife Catherine perhaps wanted to hit the beach, Dickens was excited to see prisons, workhouses, orphanages, reform schools, and institutes for the blind, deaf, and dumb. Indeed, that's about all we get of New England - how their prisons work, what good and bad there is in their design, how they are trying to educate and employ the poor, and so on. Some vignettes are moving and uplifting (the education of Laura Bridgman), others are terrifying (the solitary confinement prisons in New York and Pennsylvania, the list of personal advertisements describing the physical injuries of runaway slaves).

Of course, Dickens the humorist gets in a few good laughs, starting with his mock praise of the "spacious" steamliner accommodations on the trip over. The trials of travelling provide plenty of opportunities to make comic lemonade, while reminding me how awesome cars and airplanes are. The widespread habit of chewing tobacco also evokes Dickens's comic ire - no matter where he goes, he is bespattered with inadvertent spittle. Those uncouth Americans!

Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 wild, rebellious colonials

Bringing Up Girls - James Dobson

Bringing Up Girls (Dobson, 2010)

I'm not much of a self-help reader (or a non-fiction reader in general, as can be seen by my published track record), but I figured I'd better read this one!  Though I'll probably need to reread it later, when it will be more applicable... Dobson covers a wide array of topics, from the unique physiology and temperament inclinations of the fairer sex in childhood to the minefield awaiting them in young adulthood.

Where this book is strongest, in my opinion, is in its impassioned call to parents to educate and support daughters as they try to find their way in an increasingly anti-female world. Girls and women are still continually exploited for their perceived beauty or lack thereof, and however "progressive" we might think we are, our society sets up girls for a lifetime of self-doubt, self-loathing, and empty cheats against any cherished hopes of true love and appreciation.

There are also some great snippets of information about the physiological and emotional differences between boys and girls that should not be ignored. I had no idea a baby girl goes through an early puberty-like event that helps develop her brain, or that baby boys' brains get blitzed by testosterone early on (yes, we crazy boys are officially suffering from brain damage). I'm excited to see the similarities and differences between my kids as they grow.

The weakest aspect of the book was its organization, or lack thereof.  Anecdotes, citations, and asides abound. In one chapter directed to moms, there are several pages directed at dads (who get their own chapter later).  Another chapter is simply a newspaper story, cited in full, that doesn't really relate to the previous or following chapters.  Many of the anecdotes (especially the ones near the ends of chapters) are targeted maliciously at heartstrings. C'est la vie.  The main thing I learned is that I need to stay involved in my little girl's life - and though she's only five days old and I have a long way to go, I don't see any danger of dropping that ball.

Arbitrary rating: 4 out of 5 heartstring-tugging anecdotes