“How Arthur by the means of Merlin got the Excalibur, his sword by the Lady of the Lake.” Aubrey Beardsley‘s illustration for Le Morte Darthur, J. M. Dent & Co., London (1893–1894)
Arthur is born to the High King of Britain (Malory’s “England”) Uther Pendragon and his new wife Igraine, and then taken by the wizard Merlin to be secretly fostered by Arthur’s uncle Ector in the country in turmoil after the death of Uther. Years later, the now teenage Arthur suddenly becomes the ruler of the leaderless Britain when he removes the fated sword from the stone in the contest set up by Merlin, which proves his birthright that he himself had not been aware of. The newly crowned King Arthur and his followers including King Ban and King Bors go on to fight against rivals and rebels, ultimately winning the war in the great Battle of Bedegraine. Arthur prevails due to his military prowess and the prophetic and magical counsel of Merlin (later eliminated and replaced by the sorceress Nimue), further helped by the sword Excalibur that Arthur received from a Lady of the Lake. With the help of reconciled rebels, Arthur also crushes a foreign invasion in the Battle of Clarence. With his throne secure, Arthur marries the also young Princess Guinevere and inherits the Round Table from her father, King Leodegrance. He then gathers his chief knights, including some of his former enemies who now joined him, at his capital Camelot and establishes the Round Table fellowship as all swear to the Pentecostal Oath (Malory’s invention) as a guide for knightly conduct.
It also includes the tale of Balyn and Balan (a lengthy section which Malory called a “booke” in itself), as well as some other episodes, such as King Pellinore‘s hunt for the Questing Beast and the treason of Arthur’s sorceress half-sister Queen Morgan le Fay in the plot involving her lover Accolon. Furthermore, it tells of begetting of Arthur’s incestuous son Mordred by one of his other royal half-sisters, Morgause (though Arthur did not know her as his sister). On Merlin’s advice, Arthur then takes away every newborn boy in his kingdom and all of them but Mordred (who miraculously survives and eventually indeed will kill his father in the end) perish at sea; this is mentioned matter-of-factly, with no apparent moral overtone.
The narrative of the first book is mainly based on the Prose Merlin in its rewritten version from the Post-Vulgate Cycle‘s Suite du Merlin (possibly the manuscript Cambridge University Library, Additional 7071). Malory addresses his contemporary preoccupations with legitimacy and societal unrest, which will appear throughout the rest of Le Morte d’Arthur. His concern reflects the 15th-century England, where many were claiming their rights to power through violence and bloodshed. According to Helen Cooper in Sir Thomas Malory: Le Morte D’arthur – The Winchester Manuscript, the prose style, which mimics historical documents of the time, lends an air of authority to the whole work. This allowed contemporaries to read the book as a history rather than as a work of fiction, therefore making it a model of order for Malory’s violent and chaotic times during the Wars of the Roses, arguably resembling his contemporary John Vale’s Book.
Book II (Caxton V)
The opening of the second volume finds Arthur and his kingdom without an enemy. His throne is secure, and his knights including Griflet and Tor as well as Arthur’s own nephews Gawain and Ywain (sons of Morgause and Morgan, respectively) have proven themselves in various battles and fantastic quests as told in the first volume. Seeking more glory, Arthur and his knights then go to the war against (fictitious) Emperor Lucius who has just demanded Britain to resume paying tribute. Departing from Geoffrey of Monmouth‘s literary tradition in which Mordred is left in charge (as this happens there near the end of the story), Malory’s Arthur leaves his court in the hands of Constantine of Cornwall and sails to Normandy to meet his cousin Hoel. After that, the story details Arthur’s march on Rome through Almaine (Germany) and Italy. Following a series of battles resulting in the great victory over Lucius and his allies, and the Roman Senate‘s surrender, Arthur is crowned a Western Emperor but instead arranges a proxy government and returns to Britain.
This book is based mostly on the first half of the Middle English heroic poem Alliterative Morte Arthure (itself heavily based on Geoffrey’s pseudo-chronicle Historia Regum Britanniae). Caxton’s print version is abridged by more than half compared to Malory’s manuscript. Vinaver theorised that Malory originally wrote this part first as a standalone work, while without knowledge of French romances. In effect, there is a time lapse that includes Arthur’s war against King Claudas in France.
Book III (Caxton VI)
“How Sir Launcelot slew the knight Sir Peris de Forest Savage that did distress ladies, damosels, and gentlewomen.” The Romance of King Arthur (1917), abridged from Malory’s Morte d’Arthur by Alfred W. Pollard and illustrated by Arthur Rackham
Going back to a time before Book II, Malory establishes Lancelot, a young French orphan prince, as King Arthur’s most revered knight through numerous episodic adventures, some of which he presented in comedic manner. Lancelot always adheres to the Pentecostal Oath, assisting ladies in distress and giving mercy for honourable enemies he has defeated in combat. However, the world Lancelot lives in is too complicated for simple mandates and, although Lancelot aspires to live by an ethical code, the actions of others make it difficult.
The tale of Lancelot is based on parts of the French Prose Lancelot (mostly its ‘Agravain’ section) from the Vulgate Cycle, but is influenced by the Post-Vulgate Cycle whenever Malory provides continuity with his earlier episodes that had been based on the latter. It also features the chapel perilous episode taken from Perlesvaus. There is evidence that Chrétien de Troyes‘ original poem Lancelot, the Knight of the Cart or its English translation Ywain and Gawain may have been among his other uncredited minor sources, as Malory’s story is repeatedly closer to it than to the Vulgate rewrite.
Lancelot himself had previously appeared in Malory’s Book II (set later in the narrative), fighting for Arthur against the Romans. In Book III, his character is widely regarded as of central importance to the entire work, representing “the very paradigm of Malorian knighthood”. Malory attempts to turn the focus of courtly love from adultery to service by having Lancelot dedicate doing everything he does for Queen Guinevere, the wife of his lord and friend Arthur, but avoid (for a time being) to committing to an adulterous relationship with her. Nevertheless, it is still her love that is the ultimate source of Lancelot’s supreme knightly qualities, something that Malory himself did not appear to be fully comfortable with as it seems to have clashed with his personal ideal of knighthood. Although a catalyst of the fall of Camelot, as it was in the French romantic prose cycle tradition, the moral handling of the adultery between Lancelot and Guinevere in Le Morte implies their relationship is true and pure, as Malory focused on the ennobling aspects of courtly love. Other issues are demonstrated when Morgan enchants Lancelot, which reflects a feminization of magic, and in how the prominence of jousting tournament fighting in this tale indicates a shift away from battlefield warfare towards a more mediated and virtuous form of violence.
“‘Lady,’ replied Sir Beaumains, ‘a knight is little worth who may not bear with a damsel.'” Lancelot Speed‘s illustration for James Thomas Knowles‘ The Legends of King Arthur and His Knights (1912)
The fourth volume primarily deals with the adventures of the young Gareth (“Beaumains”) in his long quest for the sibling ladies Lynette and Lioness. The youngest of Arthur’s nephews by Morgause and King Lot, Gareth hides his identity as a nameless squire at Camelot as to achieve his knighthood in the most honest and honourable way.
While this particular story is not directly based on any known text unlike most of the content of previous volumes, it resembles various Arthurian and other French romances of the Fair Unknown type. It may also have been influenced in minor ways by Sir Gawain and the Carle of Carlisle and by Chrétien’s Erec and Enide episode “Joie de la Cort” (and perhaps, according to Vinaver, two other of Chrétien’s poems).
A long collection of the tales about Tristan of Lyonesse, as well as a variety of other knights, including Tristan’s companions Dinadan and Lamorak, his rival Palamedes, Alexander the Orphan (Tristan’s young relative abducted by Morgan), and “La Cote de Male Tayle“. After telling of Tristan’s birth and childhood, its primary focus is on the doomed adulterous relationship between Tristan and the Belle Isolde, wife of his villainous uncle King Mark. It also includes the retrospective story of how Galahad was fathered by Lancelot to Princess Elaine of Corbenic, followed by Lancelot’s years of madness.
Malory’s treatment of the legend of the young Cornish prince Tristan is the centerpiece of Le Morte d’Arthur as well as the longest of his eight books. It constitutes around a third of the entire work, and was itself formally divided by the author into two separate books (“bookes”). It is based mainly on the French vast Prose Tristan (or its hypothetical now-lost English adaptation), highly abridged by about 5/6. Malory’s text combines parts of the Prose Tristan in its Version II in an unknown modification for his First Book (his featured episodes largely but not exactly mirroring the V.II variants survived in the manuscript MS BN fr. 103 at first, until the story of Tristan’s madness, then followed by MS BN fr. 334), and an entirely alternative Version IV (MS BN fr. 99) for his Second Book. Malory begins with the birth of Tristan and does not use the Grail Quest version from the Prose Tristan. According to Ralph C. Norris, “as with his previous tales, Malory uses minor sources to add such things as characters’ names, episodes, and occasionally a different tone to his rendition.” In that, he might have also used the now almost entirely lost Middle English verse romance Sir Tristrem.
The variety of episodes, and a perceived lack of structural coherence in the Tristan narrative, raised questions about its role in Malory’s text. Vinaver condemned it as “long and monotonous” and suggested it to be left for the last, his view shared by much of classic scholarship. Others, conversely, have since praised or at very least partially approved of the book, arguably an essential reading due to how Malory foreshadows and prepares for the rest of his work by developing or forecasting a variety of characters, themes, and tales found in the later books. It can be seen as an exploration of secular chivalry and a discussion of earthly “worship” (in the meaning of glory and reputation) when it is founded in a sense of shame and honour. If Le Morte is viewed as a text in which Malory is attempting to define the concept of knighthood, then the tale of Tristan becomes its critique, rather than Malory attempting to create an ideal knight as he does in some of the other books.
Book VI (Caxton XIII–XVII)
“The Holy Grail, covered with white silk, came into the hall.” The Grail’s miraculous sighting at the Round Table in William Henry Margetson‘s illustration for Legends of King Arthur and His Knights (1914)
Malory’s primary source for this long part was the Vulgate Queste del Saint Graal, chronicling the adventures of many Knights of the Round Table in their mostly separate, pilgrimage-like journeys to find the Holy Grail. According to Terence McCarthy, it may have been Malory’s earliest composition.
Gawain is the first to embark on the search for the Grail, albeit in his case not for religious reasons. The others, prominently including Lancelot, follow his lead, traveling in various directions, either alone or in small groups of changing composition. Their martial and spiritual exploits are intermingled with encounters with maidens and hermits who offer advice and interpret dreams along the way. The Grail is ultimately achieved by Galahad and his final companions, Percival and Bors the Younger.
After the confusion of the secular moral code he manifested within the previous book, Malory attempts to construct a new mode of chivalry by placing an emphasis on religion, albeit somewhat less than his French sources did, the degree of difference depending on an interpretation. As in the Queste, the framework for the interactions between the main Grail knights (Galahad, Percival, Bors) is based on Saint Aelred‘s ideas from his book Spiritual Friendship. Christianity and the Church offer a venue through which the Pentecostal Oath can be upheld, whereas the strict moral code imposed by religion foreshadows almost certain failure on the part of the knights. For instance, Gawain refuses to do penance for his sins, claiming the tribulations that coexist with knighthood as a sort of secular penance. Likewise, the flawed Lancelot, for all his sincerity, is unable to completely escape his adulterous love of Guinevere, and is thus destined to fail where Galahad will succeed. This coincides with the personification of perfection in the form of Galahad, a virgin wielding the power of God. Galahad’s life, uniquely entirely without sin, makes him a model of a holy knight that cannot be emulated through secular chivalry. Nevertheless, in contrast to the striking condemnation and humiliation of Lancelot’s character in the Queste, Malory’s version of the Knight of the Lake continues to be the paragon of, at least, earthly honour.
Book VII (Caxton XVIII–XIX)
Following the quest for the Holy Grail, Lancelot tries to maintain his knightly virtues but finds himself drawn back into his illicit romance with Guinevere. He stays true to her, tragically rejecting the desperate love of Elaine of Ascolat, and completes a series of trials that culminates in his rescue of the Queen from the abduction by the renegade knight Maleagant (this is also the first time the work explicitly mentions the couple’s sexual adultery).
Writing it, Malory combined the established material from the Vulgate Cycle’s early part of Prose Lancelot (an abridged retelling of the finale of Chrétien’s Lancelot), and some of the early parts of the Vulgate Mort Artu, with his own creations (the episodes “The Great Tournament” and “The Healing of Sir Urry”). A key theme emphasised at the end of each of the book’s five tales is forgiveness.
Book VIII (Caxton XX–XXI)
Arthur’s final voyage to Avalon in a 1912 illustration by Florence Harrison
A disaster strikes when King Arthur’s bastard son Mordred and his half-brother Agravain succeed in revealing Queen Guinevere’s adultery and Arthur sentences her to burn. Lancelot’s rescue party raids the execution, killing several loyal knights of the Round Table, including, unwittingly, Gawain’s younger brothers Gareth and Gaheris. Gawain, bent on revenge, prompts Arthur into a long and bitter civil war with Lancelot. After they leave to pursue Lancelot in France, where Gawain is mortally injured in a duel with Lancelot (and later finally reconciles with him on his death bed), Mordred seizes the throne and takes control of Arthur’s kingdom. At the bloody final battle between Mordred’s followers and Arthur’s remaining loyalists in England, Arthur kills Mordred but is himself gravely wounded. As Arthur is dying, the lone survivor Bedivere casts Excalibur away, and Morgan and Nimue come together to take Arthur to Avalon. Following the disappearance and presumed passing of King Arthur, who is succeeded by Constantine, Malory provides a short epilogue about the later lives and deaths of Bedivere, Guinevere, and Lancelot and his kinsmen.
In his eponymous final book, Malory presented the version of the story of Arthur’s death derived primarily from the Vulgate Mort Artu, along with the Vulgate-inspired English Stanzaic Morte Arthur as his secondary source. (Alternatively, a hypothetical now-lost modification of the French original could have been a common source for both Malory’s work and the English poem.) In the words of George Brown, Malory “celebrates the greatness of the Arthurian world on the eve of its ruin. As the magnificent fellowship turns violently upon itself, death and destruction also produce repentance, forgiveness, and salvation.”
My Review
Despite being more than 500 years old and written in Middle English, I really enjoyed Sir Thomas Mallory’s Le Morte d’Arthur. A lot of my enjoyment stemmed from the audiobook performance of Derek Jacobi. I’ve read him before and my opinion has not changed. The English actor and performer is one of the best to ever do audiobook narrations. If you pick up an audiobook and see that he’s reading it, you can feel assured that you’re going to enjoy yourself. He was able to perform the sometimes unfamiliar Middle English verbiage in such a way that I never felt lost or confused. It was something like hearing really excellently read Shakespeare, where emotion fills in the gaps of unfamiliar language and turns of phrase.
The performance had a transportive quality that put me in mind of all the men and women who almost certainly read this book, Shakespeare among them. The early date of the publication makes it likely that this could have been a favorite of King Henry VIII, Francis Bacon, St. Thomas More, the early American colonists,and the Founders of the United States.
Mallory’s book is a foundational work in English literature and also the British identity, though he served the role as a compiler of much older stories, in addition to crafting a cohesive narrative. Given the foundational nature of the story, it was important to me while reading to think through why the book and the Arthurian legend resonates so strongly across time.
For me, that question started by the title of the book itself. Le Morte d’Arthur means “the Death of Arthur.” It’s a strange title given that the king’s death is a relatively small part of the story that comes up briefly at the very end. There are large sections of the book focused much more intently on Lancelot than Arthur. Why not The Life of Arthur? For me, the story, when read as a whole, feels like a descent. We meet a young boy on the path to being king, powerful and foretold, and everything after he pulls the sword from the stone feels like complication, mistakes, death, and tragedy – until we get to Arthur’s own death. Arthur’s arc and life feels very much like a story about the Fall of Man in many respects.
If that sounds depressing, well, it is. However, in the midst of that fall we see the contrast, too, which includes beauty, chivalry, courage, and love. The stories end up functioning as a kind of fairy tale parallel to the human life. We all are very flawed and we all eventually die, and a lot of strange and difficult circumstances are met along the way, but there’s a beauty in the effort to continue trying to do better in the midst of that death and failure. The story is not without hope though. It acknowledge that death ultimately claims everyone, but some live on in heaven after – even some who we’ve seen make terrible mistakes. You might say it’s like reading the narrative sections of the Old Testament.
One difference between Mallory’s Arthur story, and the now more familiar 20th century version told by T.H. White, is that this is a much more Christian story than the later tale. There is magic and enchantments in this world, but there is also Christ, above all of that, for whom everyone can and does strive. This Christian reverence is one area wherein the original Mallory story exceeds White’s follow-up. The Holy Grail quest, as told by Mallory, feels as though it means something real and something deeper. White’s Once and Future King, by contrast, often feels as though the underlying Arthurian Christianity takes a backseat to 20th century views of science, or the whimsical non-Christian magic wielded by Merlin. This story is a product of its time and it was fun to put on 15th century shoes (well, ears) for a few hours.
I highly recommend this audiobook. It’s an easy listen, Jacobi is brilliant, and the story will leave you thinking about deep things – sin, death, repentance, love, and more than anything… striving. It’s heart-stirring even after five centuries.
Have you read Le Morte d’Arthur? If so, what did you think?
