The Timelessness of Arthurian Tales

A couple of years ago, I wrote about a new series I had started watching called MERLIN.

As I said then, I was shocked by what I perceived as the ridiculous aspects of the show and how much they had changed the Arthurian cycle. However, after the first few episodes of the show I began to see its qualities and the wonderful ways in which it revived the Arthurian legend for a new generation.

This past weekend, I finished watching the fifth and final season of this BBC Series.

I’m actually a little sad that the series is done. I’m also surprised at how attached I became to many of the characters, especially the characters of Merlin and Arthur whose bantering, odd, loyal relationship is the central theme and strength of the series.

We all know that Arthur dies in the end. Of course he does. But I found myself hoping that maybe, just maybe, Arthur would survive. I wanted him to! The series had changed so many other aspects of the legend, why not change that? End things on a positive, uplifting note, right?

No. The death of Arthur in story is something that is inevitable, even for a modern interpretation. It’s the death of Arthur that shows the essential elements of tragedy, sacrifice, and hope for the future that are so crucial to Arthurian tales.

In MERLIN, the actors Colin Morgan and Bradley James manage to pull off an emotional, gut-wrenching final episode that is, to me, a worthy addition to the Arthurian canon.

After watching that final episode, I found myself dealing with a familiar feeling of sadness and longing in the pit of my stomach. It’s something I always feel when I finish watching or reading the story of Arthur and his knights.

This experience reminded me why I love Arthurian stories so much, and why I will never tire of them.

I grew up with the stories of Arthur. In fact, they are a big part of the person I have become, the ideals I hold to be true and important. They speak to me on many levels. They are timeless.

Historically, those few decades straddling the 5^th and 6^th centuries A.D gave rise, in my opinion, to some of the most important and moving literature and literary traditions since Homer composed the Iliad and the Odyssey.

Whether ‘Camelot’ was a late medieval castle, or a re-fortified Iron Age hill fort at South Cadbury doesn’t matter. It’s irrelevant if the sword Excalibur rose out of the water in the hand of an ancient priestess or water nymph, or if it was cast as a solid piece of iron in a stone mould by a highly skilled smith.

What matters in the Arthurian cycle are the people, and the journeys that they take.

When I think about Arthurian legend, I think about a young boy facing his destiny, I think of lovers facing insurmountable odds, I think about brave and gifted people working to better the land they love.

When I think of these stories I think about ideals of chivalry that, real or imagined, are a bright light in a world that seems to be crumbling apart, pinioned as it is between the classical and early medieval worlds.

When I travelled to Glastonbury, Cadbury Castle, Birdoswald, Wroxeter, Dinas Emrys, Tintagel, or Caerleon, I wasn’t focussed so much on the archaeology and whether it supported the legends of those places.

What pulled me into those places, what grabbed my imagination and would not let go, were the stories and people associated with those places. Therein lies the true magic.

I’ll never forget the names of Balin and Balan, Eric and Enide, Sir Gawain and Sir Perceval, Tristan and Isolde, The Lady of Shalott, Lancelot, Guinevere, Uther, and Arthur, and so many more.

If my heart were a book shelf, there would be a scroll with a special space dedicated to every chapter of the Arthurian cycle.

I feel like I’ve watched the barge carrying Arthur’s body sail to Avalon countless times, and yet the cycle is always reborn inside of me, my mind, and my imagination.

Someday, when I’m ready, I’ll write my own version of the cycle in as historically accurate a way as possible. This has always been my goal.

But, even more so, I will write my own offering to the traditions in a way that the most inspiring aspects of the tales come to the fore.

It feels like an impossible task, but then, no quest is intended to be easy.

Thank you for reading.

Which are your favourite Arthurian tales? Share yours in the Comments box below!

Merry Christmas

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Well, Christmas time is here and it is, as ever, an exciting time of the year. The wheel has turned once again and the days are getting longer with the Winter Solstice.

We all have our own traditions for this time of year, many of which have their roots in the very distant past.

I always think of our connection to the ancient and medieval worlds at this time, whether you call it Winter Solstice, Saturnalia, the festival of Sol Invictus, Yuletide, or Christmas. I am reminded of the strength of traditions, their importance in tying us together, but also in linking us to the past and our collective cultural identities.

Saturnalia Feast

In our house, we put up a tree and lights, but we also hang fresh evergreen about the home, holly, and  if we can find it, mistletoe. There is a steaming pot of Wassail on the stove (see previous post for a recipe) and the Wassailing songs to go with it. It all culminates in a feast with friends and family.

It seems no matter the stresses of daily life, of work and worry, this time of year lightens the heart and can crack a smile on the hardest of faces.

But then we also remember that this is a time when many others are not so happy or fortunate. Perhaps they don’t have the family and friends to celebrate with, perhaps they have lost someone, perhaps the season is forever spoiled by a bad experience…

Medieval Banquet

Makes you grateful for the blessings you have, but it also makes you think…

I’ve started a new tradition for myself. For the last two years I have been reading a copy of the original manuscript of A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens, in the two weeks before Christmas.

We all know this story, of course. It’s one of the most famous stories told. And for good reason.

I know Dickens is not ancient or medieval historical fiction, but Christmas is a time of long-standing tradition. A Christmas Carol is a wonderful story, brilliantly told, that moves me to no end when I read it. One passage in particular stands out. It is when Fred, Scrooge’s nephew, visits him in his office to wish him a Merry Christmas. Scrooge spits his humbug and mocks the season, but Fred counters with a wonderful description of the time:

“I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round – apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that – as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.”

It struck me this year, as I read the story, that in the long list of common traditions from the pagan past, all the way to the Christian present, the idea of Christmas being a time of charity and helping others is a uniquely Christian take on this ancient festival.

Sure, at Saturnalia the Romans gave their slaves the day off. But they didn’t free them. They also hung greens, lit lights, and gave presents to each other. And pagans in northern Europe had yule logs and trees, and made merry just like everyone else.

Scrooge and Christmas Present

Christianity incorporates all of these things, but its stress on charity and good will toward your fellow human beings, so expertly portrayed by Charles Dickens, is its most important contribution.

So, to you, dear reader, I wish you the very best of the holiday season.

May your plate be full, your celebrations joyous, and your heart light with kindness.

Merry Christmas!

You can download a free copy of A Christmas Carol on the Project Gutenberg website.

Virtual Hearth Fire

Last week I (and hundreds of thousands of others – millions?) watched Amanda Palmer’s Ted Talk on-line.

People have been going nuts for this for a variety of reasons; everyone is talking about it, the flair with which she delivers her message, the naked thing etc.

But I think that for most of us creative types, Amanda Palmer’s words and the depth of feeling expressed when she speaks about that genuine connection with an audience, has struck a chord. So many folks are out there on Twitter, Facebook and other media trying hard to flog their wares like they’re in a medieval marketplace because they are desperate to make a living with their art. They hunger for it and can’t wait to ‘make it happen’.

When you feel trapped doing something that‘s unrelated to your creative centre of the universe it’s easy to forget the truly important things like connecting with your audience and sharing your passion for what you really love and hold dear.

Amanda Palmer's Ted Talk was fantastic and, though I am way too shy for the naked thing (you have to watch it to find out what that means), I did take away some valuable ideas and thoughts and yes, they do relate to ancient or medieval history.

The internet connects us all globally and instantly and what it is, to my mind, with its millions of blogs, videos and other social sites, is a titanic gathering of virtual hearth fires.

Social media has, however, become so commonplace these days that I think most of us now take these regular human interactions for granted.

We need to be reminded that behind every e-mail, blog post, Tweet, ‘Like’, or comment is a person with ideas, with something to share and contribute.

We should remember to greet all of these with the respect and gratitude they deserve, so long as they, in turn, are also respectful.

As I get older and, it seems, busier and busier, I have realized that time is indeed utterly precious. So, when someone takes time to share we should take note and give back.

With this in mind, I have come to view my blog, and other sites, in a different light. Amanda Palmer highlights the interactions between people, performer and audience. In my case, I think of writers and readers interacting, sharing as peers.

'Homer and His Guide' 

This view, this idea personal interaction, reminds me of the ancient bardic traditions of our ancestors. Whether in ancient Greece when a blind Homer sat on a rock and recited his tales of the Trojan War and Odysseus to those gathered about him, or in ancient Britain when Taliesin bewitched his listeners with his magical words, people have gathered around the fire for ages to hear stories told, to be inspired and exchange ideas.

It is strange that the internet, this chimera of the modern age, should bring us closer to our ancient tradition of storytelling than we have been in a long time.

We can roam at will from one fire to the next to hear stories and ideas expressed on any number of themes and in any language we wish.

It’s truly amazing… and humbling.

I’d like to thank all of you who have been following, leaving comments here, on Google+, on the Eagles and Dragons Facebook page or sending me personal e-mails. I really do enjoy hearing from you and always answer everyone.

Oftentimes, bloggers feel they are just throwing posts out that are never heard, but the other day I checked out the stats for this website and to my surprise there were around four hundred views for many of the posts. You’re a quiet bunch, and that’s ok!

That said, I would like to invite my regular readers, and newbies, to come and sit at the Writing the Past hearth fire to share your own thoughts on ancient and medieval history and historical fiction/fantasy.

A bard and his audience

If you are interested in writing an on-topic guest blog about your experiences writing or reading historical fiction/fantasy or about a visit you made to an ancient site, let me know and we can make it happen. It’s great to share with other listeners around the fire.

Also, if there are topics you would like to hear about, let me know. You can reach me here at Writing the Past, on Twitter @AdamHaviaras, on Google+, Eagles and Dragons on Facebook, or e-mail me via the ‘About Me’ section of this blog.

If you have your own website, send me the link. I would love to visit!

We live in a very exciting time of human interaction and information. In our modern world the past, and its resources, its stories, have never been more accessible.

I look forward to meeting you around the hearth fire.

Cheers and thanks for visiting!