Ordinarily this space is reserved for reviews of new books in order to keep you, the New School community, informed of what’s recent and relevant in the world of literature, but I am going to use my portion of the Book Review section of 12th Street to tell you about my experience with an under-appreciated classic, one that’s relevant to (my time at) 12th Street in a different kind of way. The book I’m talking about is John Steinbeck’s The Acts of King Arthur and his Noble Knights, which was awesome. The reason I think it’s fitting for this space is because one of the earliest nonfiction pieces we worked on editing together as a staff during my time at the journal was by our very own Rachel Knox, and it began with a quote from Steinbeck about New York City. The quote was from 1953, and King Arthur is from roughly the same era. Steinbeck worked on it from 1956-1959, but interestingly he did not finish it, and it remained incomplete and unpublished at the time of his death in 1968. It was eventually published in 1976. Open the pages of King Arthur, though, and it’s apparent that we’re very far away from New York. We’re in Camelot.
In the introduction to the book, Steinbeck relates his experience reading the original tales of King Arthur as written by some guy named Malory. He says that modern readers probably wouldn’t have patience for the Olde English style of Malory’s writing, which was the common speech of the day, and that his objective for his own version was to “…set [the Acts of King Arthur] down in plain present-day speech for my own young sons, and for other sons not so young…” This explains the accessible, straightforward style of Steinbeck’s narrative. The story starts and moves quickly. By page 13, Arthur’s father, King Uther Pendragon, has died, and by page 16 the young Arthur has pulled the legendary sword from the stone and claimed his birthright as the King of England, though his kingship is not without its (oftentimes violent) critics and objectors. King Arthur begins his reign by fighting many wars against other lords and Kings from throughout England, Scotland and Ireland, just to establish that he is, in fact, the boss. The fight scenes are descriptive and bloody, and hardly a handful of pages pass without one. Here’s an example from page 29:
Sir Ulfius’s horse was killed under him, but he put his shield before him and continued to fight on foot. Duke Estance of Cambenet set upon Uflius to kill him, but Sir Brastias saw his friend in danger and singled Estance out and the two ran together with such force that both of them were struck down and the horse’s knees burst to the bone and both men lay stunned on the ground. Then Sir Kay with six knights drove a wedge into the enemy until they were met by the eleven lords, and Gryfflet and Sir Lucas the Butler were unhorsed. Now the battle became a confused melee of wheeling, charging, striking knights, and each man chose an enemy and engaged him as if in single combat.
One of the most interesting characters in the book—and one of the most famous characters of the King Arthur canon—is, of course, the wizard Merlin. I’ll be honest, this is the only version of King Arthur that I’ve ever read, so I don’t know how Merlin’s death is supposed to come about, but here it is great. Merlin falls in love with a young maiden named Nyneve who has zero interest in him. In fact, she detests him. She thinks he’s old and gross. Before I go on, let me state that Merlin spends a significant portion of the story prior to this informing King Arthur that he knows exactly how and when he will die, but that he will not prevent it because he simply can’t help himself, basically. So he follows Nyneve around, begging her to make love to him. She refuses over and over. Finally she relents on the condition that Merlin teach her powerful magic. Merlin does so, but instead of having an affair with Merlin, she proceeds to use that magic to seal him in a cave for all eternity. Merlin—Merlin, who’s basically a Jedi Master and consigliore to King Arthur (and, some say, the son of the Devil) and who knows literally everything, is disposed of by his own lust. And he remains, according to Steinbeck, locked in that cave to this day (even though the chapter is called The Death of Merlin, Merlin is still out there). Then Nyneve goes on to become a powerful (good) witch who travels around helping people, and who saves King Arthur’s life more than once.
Every character we meet is well-developed and on some sort of quest. The damsels, who are frequently rescued by the knights, are depicted as clever and crafty. They know that knights are beholden to their oaths of chivalry and pretty much have to do whatever damsels ask of them. Not that all the women are “damsels.” Some, like Nyneve, are straight up heroes. In the chapter titled Gawain, Ewain, and Marhalt, the young and rather crappy knight Sir Ewain spends a year alone in the woods under the tutelage of the seasoned lady Lyne. She tells him, “A little girl, hating embroidery, I watched the young boys practicing and I hated the hobbles of a gown. I was a better rider than they, a better hunter, as I proved, and alone with quintain I proved myself with a spear. Only the accident of girlness prevented me from being more than equal to the boys.” At the end of the year, Sir Ewain is one of the best, most skilled knights in the world. And let me not forget King Arthur’s most powerful foe: the evil witch Morgan Le Fay, his stepsister.
Perhaps the most famous of all the Knights of the Roundtable is Sir Lancelot. The final novella-length section of the book is dedicated to the adventures of Lancelot, and upon finishing the book, I decided that maybe it was a very good thing that Steinbeck never got around to completing it. You see, even people like myself who’ve never read another version of King Arthur, or seen a movie of it, probably know Lancelot ultimately betrays his best friend, King Arthur, by having an affair with his wife, Queen Guinevere. This act of adultery causes a civil war and leads to King Arthur’s death at the hands of his forgotten son, Mordred.
But Steinbeck never gets to that point.
Lancelot kisses Guinevere, but that’s it. Their relationship is never consummated. The book ends with Lancelot fleeing her chambers, weeping with regret, and so King Arthur, along with Camelot, is spared. At first I was kind of disappointed. Mordred, who was being built up through backstory as an excellent villain, is never really shown, and the entire story of Sir Galahad and the Holy Grail is absent. But maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s worth it not to have those stories in order to know that King Arthur is still alive out there somewhere, like Merlin in that cave.