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With
Sir
Thomas Malory's
Le Morte Darthur (aka
Morte Darthur,
hereafter MD) published by
William Caxton in 1485, mass audiences at last could
read about Arthur because finally he was in print, but
Malory's popularity did not peek until the arrival of
mass public education in the nineteenth century. His book
then was reprinted in the wave of late romantic
medievalism led by
Sir Walter Scott and
Robert Southey, and later in the Victorian era with
Alfred Tennyson’s
Idylls of the King
(1859–85) and socialist
William Morris’s "The Defence of Guenevere "(1858).
Malory's
popular influence has continued to grow in Mark Twain’s
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court
(1889), T. H. White’s
The Once and Future King
(1958), and a myriad of other works down to Monty
Python's
Spamalot
(2005).
Feudal futility
If he was who most scholars take him to
be, Sir Thomas Malory (cir. 1405-1471) was one of many victims of the political
chaos of his time. He was repeatedly arrested and
jailed for long years but, as there is no record of any
trial, he may have been held solely for political
reasons. Malory probably completed Morte Darthur
at the end of his life, possibly while still in prison.
In any case Arthurian literature appears to have interested to the
author of Morte Darthur
insofar as it
mirrored his chaotic times including civil wars,
religious morbidity,
private armies, and weak kingship unable to rule
aristocratic arrogance or maintain peace.
Malory's Arthur and Guinevere seem to be references to his
king, the devout and feeble minded
Henry VI (1421-1471), and Henry's allegedly unfaithful
queen, the beautiful and ambitious
Margaret of Anjou (1430-1482).
When Malory was a boy, England had
conquered large parts of France under
the brief reign of Lancastrian
Henry V, but the young king suddenly died of
dysentery on campaign. After the succession of the infant king
Henry VI
in 1422, there was no central control of the state, all of the French territories were lost, and
England plunged into a long and bloody series of
civil wars, the
Wars of the Roses between Lancastrian and Yorkist
rivals.
Malory did not live
to see these wars
end. He was dead when his book was published 1485. That
year the new Tudor dynasty was established after the
Battle of
Bosworth Field, when Lancastrian
Henry Tudor married
Elizabeth of York. Henry's Welsh ancestry
probably
moved Caxton to print MD; it certainly moved Henry in
naming his children, the first of whom was
Prince Arthur. Nevertheless, MD is a parable of the failed
medieval order which Henry wisely would bring to an end.
Form and Style
Malory pushes his stories along much faster than the
leisurely French Arthurian romances that he used as sources.
He cut their explanations and moralizing while he maintained
their action. The result is an enigmatic, at times
confused set of plots that are episodic and diffuse,
filled with scenes of brief dialogue and a big cast of
characters, often featuring minor figures
like Sir Pinel and Patrise in "The Poisoned Apple," or
Lucan and Bedivere in "The Day of Destiny."
There is no central controlling hero, or
other unifying plot device, to bring continuity to the
narrative.
The tangled disunity of Malory's fiction
is reflected at the sentence level, too. Malory uses a
simple but rhythmically powerful prose style that
captures effects from the alliterative English romances
he knew. Rhythmic drive comes from persistent repetition
and, especially at moments of high emotion,
alliteration:
“‘What sawest thou there?’ said the
king.
‘Sir,’ he said, ‘I saw nothing but
waters wap and waves wan’” (“The Day of Destiny”).
Malory is not Hemingway, but he is an
originator of
paratactic sentence structure,
its independent clauses linked by simple conjunctions,
and without the implicit explanatory logic of
subordinate clauses. There are few transition words or
none. Events and speeches are
abbreviated, leaving much to the reader's
imagination. The style is perhaps not well suited for
aristocratic ladies or monks with lots of time to kill. It seems
more well suited for a broad and impatient
readership. Morte Darthur is the first book in
English that can be called popular.

Caxton’s Prologue
Caxton’s Prologue is not unlike a jacket
blurb today, using the words of persons of prestige to
promote the appeal or social utility of the merchandise.
Note Caxton’s insistence on the “noble and dyuers
gentylmen” who press him to publish a full Arthurian
narrative. He touts his book politically, too: the
French in one direction and Welsh in another have all
the stories of Arthur, but the English “nowher nye alle.”
Caxton will supply the lack, though he does even this
under the favor and correction of both lords and
gentlemen. Literate clerics are not the author's only
choice for audience any more, nor is the noble patron
the sole supporter of the writer's enterprise. The new
commercialism of the age of books is already under way.
Caxton recognizes that there are those
who read to learn the truth and those who read for
pleasure. He is sure that Malory's book will find
acceptance by the latter. The truth of the story may not
be literal truth, he admits, but virtue is rewarded and
vice punished, so Morte Darthur is claimed to be a
practical guidebook on how gentlemen should and should
not act.
The Miracle of
Galahad
The Wars of the Roses were in part
religious wars, insofar as the usurping Lancastrians
attempted to justify their cause on grounds that
their Yorkist rivals were spiritually deficient or
unorthodox. Exaggerated Lancastrian pietism seems to be
reflected in Malory's emphasis on sacraments and
miracles. However, these elements may simply reflect
their author's compulsive need for fantasy in the
context of his prison life. MD can be read as the
record of a sustained meditation that shifted
Malory's attention from personal misery to a hoped-for
mystical union of all faithful knights in a next world.
The acceptance of death is the same theme
as presented in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight,
but Galahad brings no garters back to Camelot.
He doesn't even come back. Galahad's vision of the
grail
is represented in terms of the
Eucharist, the mass as a repetition of the
Last
Supper (note also the twelve knights at Corbenic),
and the transubstantiation of the wafer into the body of
Christ. The Lord's meal transforms the flawed
Round Table
to a imagined spiritual fellowship on an unearthly plane.
Galahad's tale is thick with death,
corpses and burials and the wish for death. The saintly
knight heals the wounded and the sick, but it's a
bizarre sort of healing that frees the patients to die
and leave this world, rather than rejoin and reform it.
No other knights can match Galahad's level of
detachment. The last words of Lancelot's son are unsuccessful in
raising Lancelot from entanglement in the world and
tragic passion for Guinevere.
The
Poisoned Apple
The religious grail quest has been a disaster for the
secular Round Table, and Sir
Bors
returns from it to a mere “remnant” of the prior
company. The surviving characters seem stuck in this
diminished world, though, playing out old passions and
hostilities with a sense of exhausted inevitability,
banal and doomed. Lancelot has had a brief vision of the
grail and the warning from his son Galahad, but he takes
up with Guinevere anyway, resuming an affair that now
has become a spiteful, weary argument.
The poisoned apple explores the sad paradox at the
center of MD: Arthur can't win with or without Lancelot.
Desire for
Guinevere is what keeps his star knight at court,
yet overall it undermines the codes and cohesion of the
court. Public celebration of the Round Table is possible
only in silence about the affair.
Arthur is undone by the animosities among
his knights. Sir Patrise is killed accidentally when Sir
Pinel tries to poison Sir Gawain. Sir Mador then tries
to avenge the death of Patrise, resulting in the recall
of Sir Lancelot and renewal of his affair with
Guinevere. This in turn results in the death of Gawain's
brothers, who are attempting to expose Lancelot's
adultery, so Gawain takes revenge against Lancelot, and
the whole kingdom is weakened to the point that Arthur
is doomed.
The Day of Destiny
Arthur's kingdom is unsustainable. It
seems bent on its own destruction. Brief moments of
knightly harmony are always hedged
by potential strife and violence. The court holds
together only temporarily and only because of moral
compromises, such as silence about Lancelot's affair
with Guinevere. This is a reflection of the collapsed
medieval world, when barons had more power than kings
leaving states vulnerable to invasion, prone to civil
war and marauding. We might ask the question, what is
Arthur's economic program? The obvious answer is that he
hasn't got one. Arthur is no leader. He merely reacts to
the petty personal activities of his knights.
Morte Darthur describes the death
of the old order. The final episode is itself littered with
texts of death: fake letters announcing Arthur’s death,
tombs, inscriptions, tales of death, and most poignantly
Gawain’s letter, his dying effort. The legacy of these heroic
people and their glamorous society is nothing but tombs
with inscriptions on them.
“The
Day of Destiny” sees the final conflict between
feudal loyalty to Arthur and loyalty to clan, as Gawain
seeks vengeance for Lancelot’s killing of his kinsmen.
Arthur’s absence while prosecuting that kinship vendetta
provides
Mordred with the chance to kill his father--first in
fake letters and then in fact. He would if he could
replace Arthur on the throne and in the bed of his
stepmother. Many of the common people seem to support
him because Arthur's reign has brought them nothing but
warfare. Only the church supports Arthur.
The future already is more than stale. It's
degenerate. Throughout the final episode, the
abandonment of the secular world witnessed in the grail
quest is repeated, as one public character after another
abjures the world, to become a hermit, a nun, or a man
suspended near death on an unknown island (rather like
Henry VI). Faith and devotion console these
individuals but destroy the fellowship of the round
table which should hold the kingdom together. |