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icarusI've been hearing all over the Merlin fandom how Merlin tramples the Arthurian legend into dust -- "but we don't care! We love it anyway!"
Well. Ahem. I just finished my Arthurian Lit class.
I'd like to call into question first the idea that there's "one" Arthurian legend. Second, certainly the BBC's Merlin tramples Malory's popular Morte d'Arthur, yes, but it returns to a10th 1100s, i.e., the 12th century (Sigh. I do this all the time with dates.) Arthurian text, Geoffrey of Monmouth, where Uther raises Arthur, and then runs from there. The BBC's writers show a familiarity with a breadth of Arthurian texts as they remake the legend.
If you're going to depart from the legend, you'd better know what you're doing. And they do.
The Cliff's Notes version:
Negotiating the Boundaries of Legend
Every storyteller runs into a snag when they attempt to retell a well-known legend: the reader already knows the ending. Narrative tension is lost. For Geoffrey of Monmouth, Wace, and La3aman this posed no difficulty. Familiarity helped create plausibility for their histories and translations of histories. Storytellers like Marie de France, Chretien, and the Gawaine poet avoid the problem by setting their narratives in Arthur's court, drawing in the reader, while focusing on Gawaine or Yvain or Erec as the hero. The reader can genuinely fear for Gawaine's life in Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight as the ax descends since he is not the once and future king (Gawaine 2260). Most modern interpretations rely on the popularity of the name "King Arthur" combined with a fuzzy familiarity with the legend. The 1981 film Excalibur returns to Malory's grotesquerie to shock viewers who vaguely expect chivalry of the round table. T. H. White adds an entire book on the youth of the orphaned Arthur, fills it with modern concerns, before returning to the legend. Likewise Bradley's The Mists of Avalon shifts to a woman's perspective for a modern feminist view, while also following Malory's accepted plot.
The BBC's new series Merlin takes a whimsical new tack: the writers cut the legs out from under the legend altogether so the audience no longer knows where they stand.
Within the first episode, Merlin is the same age as Arthur, Uther is alive during Prince Arthur's youth, Guinevere is a blacksmith's daughter and servant to Morgana—who is not Arthur's sister at all but Uther Pendragon's ward. Who knows? Perhaps Arthur won't even become king. Through such radical changes, five key touchstones of Malory's Morte d' Arthur, 1) kingship through drawing the sword from the stone, 2) Arthur establishing the round table, 3) marrying Guinevere and being cuckolded with Lancelot, 4) the treason of Mordred, and 5) Arthur's departure for Avalon, are undermined within a few episodes. Even if all five still occur, the story must unfold differently. Far from ignoring the popular Malory version, the writers count on its familiarity, toying with audience expectations. Essential foreshadowing in the series—such as the unexpected identity of Mordred as a druid whose people have been executed by Uther—couldn't be as effective if the viewer didn't know the original plot.
Have you ever blown a bubble within another soap bubble? It is a delicate task to build a story within another story, touching at certain junctures while ignoring others. Ignore too many and the believability for the audience will collapse. Keep too many, and the new story will be absorbed into the old. The tension between the two stories will be lost. More than just a new narrative, an additional subtle layer of tension between the old and the new story is created. This tension develops from expectations fulfilled, deviated from, and unfulfilled.
It is this tension between a master narrative and a sub narrative that marks the difference between a simple singular story (or novel), and an epic. Epics are not one story, although one version might take hold of the popular imagination: epics are a multiplicity. As the many variations of Arthur's legend attest, such master narrative-subnarrative tension is by no means new. Tolkien called it the "web of story," not a surprising perspective from a student of epics.
Thus the myriad versions of Arthurian myth are only deviations from an original if viewed (inappropriately) with the novelist's eye, seeking one Writer (or perhaps, Writer) for one Definitive Text (Definitive Text). These settle like a happy snowflake on Malory as the Definitive Text by virtue of his popularity, or perhaps skip back to Geoffrey of Monmouth as the Original Writer, missing the point of epics altogether. Does one imagine that Arthurian storytellers repeated their tales by rote, only altering them through faulty memory and happenstance? The very fact that variation continues to breed demonstrates the legend of King Arthur is still a living epic.
Whether the listeners, readers, or viewers accept the new variation, however, is a matter of skill. Marie de France's technique of exploring new narratives within Arthur's court is far less dangerous than breaking with the original plot. By departing from the story, the Merlin series first must find new touchstones to tie it to Arthurian myth for it to ring true.
Ringing True
The BBC's Merlin situates itself in Arthurian canon by returning to Geoffrey of Monmouth's version. In Geoffrey, Arthur is raised by Uther until age fifteen (Monmouth 208, 212). This narrative strategy opens fertile new ground (since Geoffrey tells us nothing of Arthur's childhood), wipes the slate clean of Malory's orphaned Arthur (Malory 13), while reminding purists of drastic differences between existing canonical texts. Checkmate. Merlin consciously signals its source by placing Geoffrey as a character, an historian, within the series.
Geoffrey's themes furthermore flavor and underpin Merlin. Prophesy and destiny is the overarching theme, quite unlike Arthur's deserved fall as written by the fallen knight, Malory, or the theme of courtly love found in Marie de France. The dragon under Vortigern's castle (Uther's castle in Merlin) is still the source of prophesy, but rather than a portent read by the boy Merlin (Monmouth 171), Geoffrey's version is inverted, and a dragon gives prophecies to the boy Merlin. Geoffrey's repeated concern for the people (particularly the Britons) permeates the new series, leaving behind Chretien and Malory's fixation on knights and aventure. In texts like Chretien's, the peasants only appear as "rough common folk," a "mob" that is forced to retreat by a count's switch (Chretien, Erec 11). The series rings true to the populist spirit of Geoffrey while lending a new flavor for those used to Malory's knights errant.
Multivalent details from a variety of Arthurian sources then knit the series into the myth. Some are lifted directly, others mixed and rewritten. A poisoned well in the second episode is right out of Geoffrey, where a poisoned well kills Uther (Monmouth 211). In Merlin, the faeries of La3man (La3man 247) who bestow tecosca (blessings) and gessi (curses), abide in Avalon, where they can bestow immortality, for a price. Their attempted ritual sacrifice of Arthur reformulates the attempted sacrifice of Merlin in Geoffrey (Monmouth 167) and the Historia Brittonum (Historia Brittonum 30). A poisoned silver chalice from Malory that nearly kills the young Tristan makes an appearance in episode three, where it nearly kills the young Arthur. In Geoffrey, an assassin disguised as a physician kills Aurelius (Monmouth 200), while in the sixth episode of Merlin, a dangerous sorcerer, Myrddin (the name itself a reference to Welsh versions of Merlin) disguised as a physician attempts to kill Uther. Throughout the series, Merlin himself hides as an assistant to the court physician who is also a former sorcerer. Merlin's writers toy with the audience's knowledge that Uther dies young, dangling possible deaths by poison and by sorcery, then drawing him back from the brink.
Borrowed details are not enough to create a convincing Arthurian atmosphere, as they could easily seem superficial, a "triteness" of appropriation tacked on like glitter (Tolkien 58). Merlin helps convince the reader by borrowing details with attention to their original context.
Broader patterns in medieval legend, such as the three tests of a warrior's mettle, appear in Merlin's eleventh episode. Arthur is tested three times for knightly virtues such as generosity, mercy, and self-sacrifice. He fails the test of humility and nearly fails the quest. In episode nine the knight Tristan, who appears in Malory if not Geoffrey, is brought back from the dead. He rides into the castle to challenge Uther's knights -- much as the Green Knight does in Sir Gawaine and the Green Night. Like the Green Knight, he cannot be killed (Gawaine 444).
Both the undead Tristan in Merlin and the magical Green Knight in Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight represent penance for past mistakes and failings (Gawaine 2392). Gawaine must pay for his overconfidence in dealing the deadly blow to the Green Knight and for cheating to save his own life. Teasing out one element, the knight in Merlin who accepts the challenge is overconfident. But the deeper ethical context of Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight regarding the relationship between honor and pragmatism – can a knight be chivalrous when he greedily protects his own life at cost to his principles? (Gawaine 2374) – also appear in the Merlin episode. Uther must pay for having killed his brother-in-law Tristan although Tristan challenged him, blaming Uther for the death of his sister Ygerna. Uther's victory is bitter and unjust, because ultimately his selfish desire for a son was responsible for his wife's death. But is Uther responsible for either death? Arguing for Gawaine-esque pragmatism, Uther insists he was forced to fight Tristan or else die himself, and that he did not know the sorcery used to guarantee a son would kill his wife. Yet Uther cheated his fate and like Gawaine, must face the ignoble truth.
The combination of Uther and wrongful sorcery reaches deep into Arthurian myth, reminding the audience of the sorcery that led to Arthur's conception in Geoffrey, Geoffrey's translators, and Malory (Malory 13), when Uther disguised himself as Gorlois, Ygerna's husband, in order to sleep with her (Monmouth 207). Although the story of Arthur's conception is different, Uther and Uther's motivations, his passionate pursuit of his own desires at the expense of others and willingness to dismiss the consequences as necessary pragmatism, remains intact. Unlike Gawaine (Gawaine 2375), Uther blames others for his mistakes and sets out to destroy the very sorcerers who helped him bring about his downfall. By the end of the season Uther is almost universally hated.
To What End?
For a new Arthurian narrative to avoid seeming spurious, it must fill (one might say exploit) a gap in the existing story. Not add something new and out of place but draw out what is suggested already. One might say Wace's round table (Wace 245) was already present in the equality of the nobles of King Arthur's court. Arthur's even-handed generosity is essential to his characterization since Geoffrey (Monmouth 212). The symbol merely needed to be revealed.
Buried in the subtext of Monmouth is a question: how is it that Arthur, raised by Uther Pendragon, is so different from his father? Geoffrey of Monmouth does not account for the radical differences between a man who pursued the wife of his Duke, remorselessly starting a war, and the young man who unites the kingdom. For Geoffrey, and the BBC's dragon in Merlin, it's a matter of Arthur's destiny. For the modern reader, fate is an insufficient explanation. People are not created in the image of Aristotle's pure forms but have some hand in shaping their fate.
Thus the most radical departure of Merlin: the character Merlin himself, who vacillates between fate, personal ethics, and human failings. In no prior variation is Merlin a contemporary of Arthur. In Geoffrey, Merlin gives prophesies to Vortigern, helps Aurelius then Uther, and appears no more. Here the series draws upon Malory's Merlin who remains by Arthur's side throughout his life, while melding him with the boy prodigy Merlin who appears in Geoffrey (Monmouth 167). Yet changes to Merlin make little difference because Merlin everywhere is used as machinae. He fulfills Uther's desires (Monmouth 207), resolves Arthur's heritage (Malory 13), and in Merlin, saves Arthur's life time and again. Yet the BBC's Merlin is young, his magic not yet reliable, and right or wrong, he makes decisions of his own. This characterization strikes a balance between the wild Welsh Myrddin Monmouth drew upon (as referenced by the town of "Kaermerdin," Monmouth 167) and the unearthly prophet of "The Prophecies of Merlin" (Monmouth 171-185) by reimagining Merlin as a boy growing into wisdom.
Navigating Modern Politics
The BBC's boy Merlin negotiates the differences between the modern world and the medieval. Much as Geoffrey in thetenth twelfth century revisualized the fifth century Arthurian culture from tales like Culhwch and Olwen, where Arthur is a chieftain of a large band of warriors (Culhwch and Olwen 34), Merlin bridges tenth twelfth and twenty-first century sensibilities.
Characters are drawn with complexities familiar from the "realism" of the novel. Arthur struggles to balance his own sense of justice with his father's vendetta against sorcery. Merlin takes Geoffrey's plea on behalf of his Britons a step further as a plea for modern democratic equality, emphasizing the gulf between the noble and peasant when Lancelot is not permitted to join Uther's knights due to his peasant birth. Themes of prejudice (against sorcerers and the like) are added to the mix and emphasized by casting a black actress as Guinevere, while a feminist reading is also taken into account when the audience learns that Morgana used to defeat Arthur in weapons practice.
However, the most notably modern element is an elision. Christianity, so central in the Arthurian legend with Malory's rendition of the grail quest and ever-present monks and bishops in Geoffrey, is markedly absent in the BBC series. A bishop isn't even found in the background of Arthur's coronation as heir apparent. It's a perplexing absence until one realizes that the Archibishop of Canterbury would have side with Uther in the prejudiced vendetta against sorcery. This would pit the church against both the protagonist, Merlin, and the hero, Arthur, an awkward and politically fraught position. The current Pope has already decried Harry Potter. Far safer to pit Merlin and Arthur against a beloved but ruthlessly pragmatic king. While an essential flavor of authentic medieval society is sadly missing—a lack more anachronistic than the presence of tomatoes—Merlin has deftly navigated the shoals of a modern interpretation.
Works Cited
Chretien de Troyes. Erec and Enide.
La3amon. Brut.
Malory, Sir Thomas. Le Morte d'Arthur.
Marie de France. The Lais, translated by Robert Hanning and Joan Ferrante, Baker Academic, (c) 1978.
Monmouth, Geoffrey. The History of the Kings of Britain, translated by Lewis Thorpe, Penguin Books, (c) 1966.
Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight, edited and translated by James Winny, Broadview, (c) 1992.
The Romance of Arthur, edited by James J. Wilhelm, Garland Publishing, Inc., (c) 1994.
Tolkien, J. R. R. The Tolkien Reader, Curtis Publishing Co., (c) 1966.
Wace. Le Roman de Brut.
My apologies for not being available for much comment. Of course I write this sort of thing when I'm hopelessly busy. I hope it's not too dry. Also, forgive that I haven't italicized all the text names. I'm in the middle of finals and probably shouldn't be posting this at all.
ETA: Sorry about the dates. I'm forever calling the 1100s the "tenth" century. It's the twelfth, yes, yes it is. (And to think I've a history minor.)
Well. Ahem. I just finished my Arthurian Lit class.
I'd like to call into question first the idea that there's "one" Arthurian legend. Second, certainly the BBC's Merlin tramples Malory's popular Morte d'Arthur, yes, but it returns to a
If you're going to depart from the legend, you'd better know what you're doing. And they do.
The Cliff's Notes version:
- There are lots of versions of Arthur, going back to the 5th century or so.
- Malory is getting flattened here, no doubt. That's the one we know.
- The writers have gone back to an earlier (and historically more influential) version of the legend: Geoffrey of Monmouth,10th1100s, i.e., the 12th century. Sigh. I do this all the time with dates.
- From there they take off from a discrepancy between Malory and Geoffrey: did Uther raise his son or was Arthur orphaned? Malory says orphaned. Geoffrey says Uther raised him till age 15.
- Then they mix together all the gazillions of versions of Arthur in a soup and serve it up every week.
- Why do this? The element of surprise. (And they may be showing off. ;)
Negotiating the Boundaries of Legend
Every storyteller runs into a snag when they attempt to retell a well-known legend: the reader already knows the ending. Narrative tension is lost. For Geoffrey of Monmouth, Wace, and La3aman this posed no difficulty. Familiarity helped create plausibility for their histories and translations of histories. Storytellers like Marie de France, Chretien, and the Gawaine poet avoid the problem by setting their narratives in Arthur's court, drawing in the reader, while focusing on Gawaine or Yvain or Erec as the hero. The reader can genuinely fear for Gawaine's life in Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight as the ax descends since he is not the once and future king (Gawaine 2260). Most modern interpretations rely on the popularity of the name "King Arthur" combined with a fuzzy familiarity with the legend. The 1981 film Excalibur returns to Malory's grotesquerie to shock viewers who vaguely expect chivalry of the round table. T. H. White adds an entire book on the youth of the orphaned Arthur, fills it with modern concerns, before returning to the legend. Likewise Bradley's The Mists of Avalon shifts to a woman's perspective for a modern feminist view, while also following Malory's accepted plot.
The BBC's new series Merlin takes a whimsical new tack: the writers cut the legs out from under the legend altogether so the audience no longer knows where they stand.
Within the first episode, Merlin is the same age as Arthur, Uther is alive during Prince Arthur's youth, Guinevere is a blacksmith's daughter and servant to Morgana—who is not Arthur's sister at all but Uther Pendragon's ward. Who knows? Perhaps Arthur won't even become king. Through such radical changes, five key touchstones of Malory's Morte d' Arthur, 1) kingship through drawing the sword from the stone, 2) Arthur establishing the round table, 3) marrying Guinevere and being cuckolded with Lancelot, 4) the treason of Mordred, and 5) Arthur's departure for Avalon, are undermined within a few episodes. Even if all five still occur, the story must unfold differently. Far from ignoring the popular Malory version, the writers count on its familiarity, toying with audience expectations. Essential foreshadowing in the series—such as the unexpected identity of Mordred as a druid whose people have been executed by Uther—couldn't be as effective if the viewer didn't know the original plot.
Have you ever blown a bubble within another soap bubble? It is a delicate task to build a story within another story, touching at certain junctures while ignoring others. Ignore too many and the believability for the audience will collapse. Keep too many, and the new story will be absorbed into the old. The tension between the two stories will be lost. More than just a new narrative, an additional subtle layer of tension between the old and the new story is created. This tension develops from expectations fulfilled, deviated from, and unfulfilled.
It is this tension between a master narrative and a sub narrative that marks the difference between a simple singular story (or novel), and an epic. Epics are not one story, although one version might take hold of the popular imagination: epics are a multiplicity. As the many variations of Arthur's legend attest, such master narrative-subnarrative tension is by no means new. Tolkien called it the "web of story," not a surprising perspective from a student of epics.
Thus the myriad versions of Arthurian myth are only deviations from an original if viewed (inappropriately) with the novelist's eye, seeking one Writer (or perhaps, Writer) for one Definitive Text (Definitive Text). These settle like a happy snowflake on Malory as the Definitive Text by virtue of his popularity, or perhaps skip back to Geoffrey of Monmouth as the Original Writer, missing the point of epics altogether. Does one imagine that Arthurian storytellers repeated their tales by rote, only altering them through faulty memory and happenstance? The very fact that variation continues to breed demonstrates the legend of King Arthur is still a living epic.
Whether the listeners, readers, or viewers accept the new variation, however, is a matter of skill. Marie de France's technique of exploring new narratives within Arthur's court is far less dangerous than breaking with the original plot. By departing from the story, the Merlin series first must find new touchstones to tie it to Arthurian myth for it to ring true.
Ringing True
The BBC's Merlin situates itself in Arthurian canon by returning to Geoffrey of Monmouth's version. In Geoffrey, Arthur is raised by Uther until age fifteen (Monmouth 208, 212). This narrative strategy opens fertile new ground (since Geoffrey tells us nothing of Arthur's childhood), wipes the slate clean of Malory's orphaned Arthur (Malory 13), while reminding purists of drastic differences between existing canonical texts. Checkmate. Merlin consciously signals its source by placing Geoffrey as a character, an historian, within the series.
Geoffrey's themes furthermore flavor and underpin Merlin. Prophesy and destiny is the overarching theme, quite unlike Arthur's deserved fall as written by the fallen knight, Malory, or the theme of courtly love found in Marie de France. The dragon under Vortigern's castle (Uther's castle in Merlin) is still the source of prophesy, but rather than a portent read by the boy Merlin (Monmouth 171), Geoffrey's version is inverted, and a dragon gives prophecies to the boy Merlin. Geoffrey's repeated concern for the people (particularly the Britons) permeates the new series, leaving behind Chretien and Malory's fixation on knights and aventure. In texts like Chretien's, the peasants only appear as "rough common folk," a "mob" that is forced to retreat by a count's switch (Chretien, Erec 11). The series rings true to the populist spirit of Geoffrey while lending a new flavor for those used to Malory's knights errant.
Multivalent details from a variety of Arthurian sources then knit the series into the myth. Some are lifted directly, others mixed and rewritten. A poisoned well in the second episode is right out of Geoffrey, where a poisoned well kills Uther (Monmouth 211). In Merlin, the faeries of La3man (La3man 247) who bestow tecosca (blessings) and gessi (curses), abide in Avalon, where they can bestow immortality, for a price. Their attempted ritual sacrifice of Arthur reformulates the attempted sacrifice of Merlin in Geoffrey (Monmouth 167) and the Historia Brittonum (Historia Brittonum 30). A poisoned silver chalice from Malory that nearly kills the young Tristan makes an appearance in episode three, where it nearly kills the young Arthur. In Geoffrey, an assassin disguised as a physician kills Aurelius (Monmouth 200), while in the sixth episode of Merlin, a dangerous sorcerer, Myrddin (the name itself a reference to Welsh versions of Merlin) disguised as a physician attempts to kill Uther. Throughout the series, Merlin himself hides as an assistant to the court physician who is also a former sorcerer. Merlin's writers toy with the audience's knowledge that Uther dies young, dangling possible deaths by poison and by sorcery, then drawing him back from the brink.
Borrowed details are not enough to create a convincing Arthurian atmosphere, as they could easily seem superficial, a "triteness" of appropriation tacked on like glitter (Tolkien 58). Merlin helps convince the reader by borrowing details with attention to their original context.
Broader patterns in medieval legend, such as the three tests of a warrior's mettle, appear in Merlin's eleventh episode. Arthur is tested three times for knightly virtues such as generosity, mercy, and self-sacrifice. He fails the test of humility and nearly fails the quest. In episode nine the knight Tristan, who appears in Malory if not Geoffrey, is brought back from the dead. He rides into the castle to challenge Uther's knights -- much as the Green Knight does in Sir Gawaine and the Green Night. Like the Green Knight, he cannot be killed (Gawaine 444).
Both the undead Tristan in Merlin and the magical Green Knight in Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight represent penance for past mistakes and failings (Gawaine 2392). Gawaine must pay for his overconfidence in dealing the deadly blow to the Green Knight and for cheating to save his own life. Teasing out one element, the knight in Merlin who accepts the challenge is overconfident. But the deeper ethical context of Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight regarding the relationship between honor and pragmatism – can a knight be chivalrous when he greedily protects his own life at cost to his principles? (Gawaine 2374) – also appear in the Merlin episode. Uther must pay for having killed his brother-in-law Tristan although Tristan challenged him, blaming Uther for the death of his sister Ygerna. Uther's victory is bitter and unjust, because ultimately his selfish desire for a son was responsible for his wife's death. But is Uther responsible for either death? Arguing for Gawaine-esque pragmatism, Uther insists he was forced to fight Tristan or else die himself, and that he did not know the sorcery used to guarantee a son would kill his wife. Yet Uther cheated his fate and like Gawaine, must face the ignoble truth.
The combination of Uther and wrongful sorcery reaches deep into Arthurian myth, reminding the audience of the sorcery that led to Arthur's conception in Geoffrey, Geoffrey's translators, and Malory (Malory 13), when Uther disguised himself as Gorlois, Ygerna's husband, in order to sleep with her (Monmouth 207). Although the story of Arthur's conception is different, Uther and Uther's motivations, his passionate pursuit of his own desires at the expense of others and willingness to dismiss the consequences as necessary pragmatism, remains intact. Unlike Gawaine (Gawaine 2375), Uther blames others for his mistakes and sets out to destroy the very sorcerers who helped him bring about his downfall. By the end of the season Uther is almost universally hated.
To What End?
For a new Arthurian narrative to avoid seeming spurious, it must fill (one might say exploit) a gap in the existing story. Not add something new and out of place but draw out what is suggested already. One might say Wace's round table (Wace 245) was already present in the equality of the nobles of King Arthur's court. Arthur's even-handed generosity is essential to his characterization since Geoffrey (Monmouth 212). The symbol merely needed to be revealed.
Buried in the subtext of Monmouth is a question: how is it that Arthur, raised by Uther Pendragon, is so different from his father? Geoffrey of Monmouth does not account for the radical differences between a man who pursued the wife of his Duke, remorselessly starting a war, and the young man who unites the kingdom. For Geoffrey, and the BBC's dragon in Merlin, it's a matter of Arthur's destiny. For the modern reader, fate is an insufficient explanation. People are not created in the image of Aristotle's pure forms but have some hand in shaping their fate.
Thus the most radical departure of Merlin: the character Merlin himself, who vacillates between fate, personal ethics, and human failings. In no prior variation is Merlin a contemporary of Arthur. In Geoffrey, Merlin gives prophesies to Vortigern, helps Aurelius then Uther, and appears no more. Here the series draws upon Malory's Merlin who remains by Arthur's side throughout his life, while melding him with the boy prodigy Merlin who appears in Geoffrey (Monmouth 167). Yet changes to Merlin make little difference because Merlin everywhere is used as machinae. He fulfills Uther's desires (Monmouth 207), resolves Arthur's heritage (Malory 13), and in Merlin, saves Arthur's life time and again. Yet the BBC's Merlin is young, his magic not yet reliable, and right or wrong, he makes decisions of his own. This characterization strikes a balance between the wild Welsh Myrddin Monmouth drew upon (as referenced by the town of "Kaermerdin," Monmouth 167) and the unearthly prophet of "The Prophecies of Merlin" (Monmouth 171-185) by reimagining Merlin as a boy growing into wisdom.
Navigating Modern Politics
The BBC's boy Merlin negotiates the differences between the modern world and the medieval. Much as Geoffrey in the
Characters are drawn with complexities familiar from the "realism" of the novel. Arthur struggles to balance his own sense of justice with his father's vendetta against sorcery. Merlin takes Geoffrey's plea on behalf of his Britons a step further as a plea for modern democratic equality, emphasizing the gulf between the noble and peasant when Lancelot is not permitted to join Uther's knights due to his peasant birth. Themes of prejudice (against sorcerers and the like) are added to the mix and emphasized by casting a black actress as Guinevere, while a feminist reading is also taken into account when the audience learns that Morgana used to defeat Arthur in weapons practice.
However, the most notably modern element is an elision. Christianity, so central in the Arthurian legend with Malory's rendition of the grail quest and ever-present monks and bishops in Geoffrey, is markedly absent in the BBC series. A bishop isn't even found in the background of Arthur's coronation as heir apparent. It's a perplexing absence until one realizes that the Archibishop of Canterbury would have side with Uther in the prejudiced vendetta against sorcery. This would pit the church against both the protagonist, Merlin, and the hero, Arthur, an awkward and politically fraught position. The current Pope has already decried Harry Potter. Far safer to pit Merlin and Arthur against a beloved but ruthlessly pragmatic king. While an essential flavor of authentic medieval society is sadly missing—a lack more anachronistic than the presence of tomatoes—Merlin has deftly navigated the shoals of a modern interpretation.
Works Cited
Chretien de Troyes. Erec and Enide.
La3amon. Brut.
Malory, Sir Thomas. Le Morte d'Arthur.
Marie de France. The Lais, translated by Robert Hanning and Joan Ferrante, Baker Academic, (c) 1978.
Monmouth, Geoffrey. The History of the Kings of Britain, translated by Lewis Thorpe, Penguin Books, (c) 1966.
Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight, edited and translated by James Winny, Broadview, (c) 1992.
The Romance of Arthur, edited by James J. Wilhelm, Garland Publishing, Inc., (c) 1994.
Tolkien, J. R. R. The Tolkien Reader, Curtis Publishing Co., (c) 1966.
Wace. Le Roman de Brut.
My apologies for not being available for much comment. Of course I write this sort of thing when I'm hopelessly busy. I hope it's not too dry. Also, forgive that I haven't italicized all the text names. I'm in the middle of finals and probably shouldn't be posting this at all.
ETA: Sorry about the dates. I'm forever calling the 1100s the "tenth" century. It's the twelfth, yes, yes it is. (And to think I've a history minor.)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-12-09 05:06 am (UTC)You say that there is logic to not having religion in there (Not to mention Harry Potter is a new story with non Christian magic, whereas Arthur was a Christian king, and the pre christian versions of him are so old - the Pope cannot really express much valid objections without looking a bigger twit than usual), but without it? Without that oh so fine borderline and dialogue between the magical and the religious, I don't have any interest as it is too distorted. Belief is embedded in society and culture in ways that are strange, pagan, mystical, outright heretical and nothing remotely like what is around today - religion is there. This is why I can't watch most shows that are older mythologies rewritten for a modern audience - that and the truly dreadful renditions of costumes and daily life.
I recognise the world in Monmouth and the Anglo Saxon Chronicles, but not in this .. blandness. That of course being the other reason. Two episodes and I decided that I could get just going and reading Monmouth, or Cretien or my own head. What I look for in terms of contributions to the Arthurian legends is not just slash, but something that moves me on a level of mythology. Sure it might bridge, but really? The modern world and its meshing with the medieval does not interest me because it is everywhere, and I see it in one huge great continuum. Having it pointed out to me in such a heavy handed way loses all the subtlety and beauty that I love in history.
:P
no subject
Date: 2008-12-09 07:33 am (UTC)I do hope that Merlin fanfic readers will stop talking about an essentialist view of Arthurian Lit.
As my professor puts it, there are many approaches to the literature. One is to focus on medieval texts, that's his approach, but Arthurian Lit encompasses all treatments of the legend. It's one reason the subject is doing well in the critical theory emphasis of UW's English program.
I miss the Christian elements, and certainly you would more than anyone.
But I can see why the BBC chose not to include it. There are some fairly, mmm, tense responses even here to Christianity. I've had to explain that it's like the color the sky in the medieval era: it's just there, part and parcel with the world. You can't study medieval texts without at least taking a bible as literature class.
I've included some of the ignored Christian elements in a short fic. I wonder what the response will be. Testing the waters, I guess, in this new fandom, to see if its open to including this aspect of the medieval world.
(I've also done research on medieval kitchens and food, but that's just part of the fun for me. *g*)
I like the idea of Arthur genuflecting and doing confession. It sends my mind to naughty places. ;) And Arthur casually assuming that Merlin is Christian (what? isn't everyone?). And Merlin is, but his mum follows St. Patrick's church which, oh no, celebrates Easter on the wrong day, "can't you do anything right, Merlin?" And the Archbishop of Canterbury, ever present in Geoffrey and Malory, interceding and acting as an unpredictable counterbalance to Uther's absolute power. Sometimes supporting him, sometimes intervening on behalf of sorcerers with high connections. I don't see it as a Christianity vs. Pagan issue so much as a second court of appeal.
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Date: 2008-12-09 08:24 am (UTC)Oh god, there is no such thing. I remember trying to teach a class of first years both the historical side and the literature side. After I finished breaking their brains, I organised them into such a raging debate that they didn't want to leave the room at the end of class. People find it very hard to let go of the idea that there is one true legend.
I have read quite a lot of the literature, both academic, old and new so yes. I am well aware of the different tendencies, with bonus over use of archaeology and pedantry on the historical side. Our university runs the Arthurian course (or used to before they ripped the heart out of the department) as a mixed course from English, history and ancient irish studies. A rare case of multi disciplinary interaction.
The thing is, in terms of the medieval church at a popular belief level .... there literally is nothing like it left today in the world. Perhaps the closest analogy I can find is to Christianity in South America, or somewhere like Haiti. It is there, but the forms that it takes are filled with 'pagan' and ideas that have been stripped out by successive reformations of both the protestant and catholic world. Indeed, where Monmouth was writing had just as many connections (if not more) to southern france and breton... which were bastions of catharism and... *flails hand around* So yes, it is like the colour of the sky.. and the air you breathe because it was the main welfare network, sometimes the only form of governance at all, but more than that.. it shares similar documents with modern xty ... but as a cultural framework? Very foreign.
So you see... a lot is lost, a lot that is not just the external rites and practices of the church, but an entire system .. jam packed with the weird and the marvellous (The different between a saint and magic is...? God and that is all.)
*snorts* I have a whole world of monk fetish, genuflecting is the least of it. Anyway, if this is twelfth century even remotely there was no such thing as 'private' confession - it was all open and public demonstrations of guilt. As for the celebration of Easter... depends where, when, who and how educated your local priest was. Easter is a fabulous time of boozing it up and eating big. Also the traditional turning all things on their head and violence.
*smacks head on table* Well the Ab of Cant was ever present because he is ............... literally the other law of the land. (Ok, well sort of. Law of London and the roving courts, in the king's land, mostly, except when he isn't) Just talk to Henry II about it - he had a rather extended tiff with his best friend over it, and his tendency to want to codify the boundaries. Not just a spiritual leader, but he owned land and could raise men and tax. Plus used as a diplomat by all and sundry from the pope to king to irish ..and he had scribes. After all, Monmouth himself is hardly what one would call 'secular.'
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Date: 2008-12-09 09:07 am (UTC)Yes, yes, exactly. It has much more in common with Tibetan Buddhism in Tibet after the collapse of the Tibetan empire, where the various little monasteries were home to every set of beliefs in Tibet, sometimes with very little in common with the "Tibetan Buddhism" we see today (because the Gelugpa lineage did all these purges in the 1700s). The monasteries and Lamas were often the only law of the land, or else they were a source to mediate between the people and the nobles.
Gosh, it would be fun to have the kind of knowledge to paint a more accurate and complex and intricate layered picture of the time. I like the idea of, say, villages near young Merlin's that embrace what's called "magic" in Uther's kingdom as a sign quasi-Christian grace, and encourage those with such signs to go into caves in retreat. And some parents avoid having their children do this, largely because they want them to have more normal, worldly lives. And I like the idea of the monasteries -- and physicians, because they were generally one and the same -- being unobserved refuges for various sorts of sorcerers, much as we had Mendel as a monk pursuing other interests.
Tell me about these cathartic groups, and any other off-shoots you can think of that we wouldn't recognize as Christianity today. I recall there were a lot of nuns in sealed retreats very early on -- 4th/5th century? -- who've left interesting mystical writings or something.
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Date: 2008-12-09 10:26 am (UTC)The problem is that most of what 'catholicism' is, is .. precisely from the documents that were trying to hard to create a unified christendom, and as most of them well telling people to stop doing x, or would please do y some more.... er. Not. This is not to say that people weren't Christian, but diving the average person's belief is ... incredibly hard. Plus lumping nearly ... 1600 years of history very loosely under one hand is, as you know from Tibetan history.. foolish. Hell, I'd be very hesistant to even compare Anglo Saxon practice of Xty with .. Italian, or Norman. Very different. Italians even more so as they are coming off different converted Germanic tribes to the French. Spain... is not even Christian! Nor is Sicily for large parts.
Roman law (iux iustinianus of the Emperor Justinian who codified the old laws) was used as canon law. The first time it was actively and completely codified (it had been integrated of course) was under Napolean. This of course leaves the question of what the hell was being used elsewhere, and 'feudalism' does not cut it at all. Very complex, and England is perhaps the easiest place .. but then again England is not English. Argh. :P
Ha! I keep telling myself that everytime I go and read another book. I've always admired the historians of popular culture who spend so much time reading spaces and the most abstract things to try and get a sense of just what people thought and felt. Or delve into rituals and linger. You are welcome to use my pitiable knowledge as a consult if you want to write fic and feel the need. If nothing else I can point you at a book and go 'that one.'
Well, most people who became hermetic tended to be the sort who saw visions and heard the voice of god. Or not of god but of a plethora of saints and signs.. any and all can be redone as signs of magic, rather than divine grace. Considering they used the extremity of isolation to ... induce grace. Yeh.
*points at Name of the Rose* Monks, isolation, magic, Arab world, mysticism and weirdos who are fucked in the head. It is doable. Well and truly. Monasteries are refuges for everyone, but at the same time.. they are tough and very isolated. There is a reason why they are target of a lot of suspicion.. 'hi, we are wealthy, have a direct connect with god and do strange things that you can't see.' Oh and charge you tax. Physicians.. hmm.. well the academic sort are almost certainly magicians just by trade (and I use the word literally) and more often than not sorcerers. Actual people who treat the ill.. from monks to local women are ... use... well that is where the 'magic' and 'religion' divide evaporates. After all.. even today in Greek churches, women pray for the sick by hanging images of the limbs on the altar.. a tradition from pagan times invoking magical rites. :P
I shall compile something together for you - the cathars are not really a 'group' per se, as 'all of southern france.' They believed that the material world was created by a demon/devil, and that they were angels trapped within this world created - and some felt that god or the 'demiurge' was trapped at the centre of the earth. They would endlessly be reborn into the flesh if they did not take the consolamentum (a rite before death). The rest will.. take me over the word limit of this comment :P
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Date: 2008-12-12 12:23 pm (UTC)This, and the rest of it (not included for brevity), would be immensely good and I strongly support you writing it.