17th April 2024: The Passing of Arthur

This month, Morgan Lee will be leading our meeting and we will be reading and discussing two different tellings of the death of King Arthur. Both texts – Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s ‘The Passing of Arthur’ (1885) and Sir Thomas Malory’s telling of the same taken from the end of ‘Sir Mordred’ (1485) – are introduced by Morgan below. The meeting will be held in Rm 2.46 of the John Percival Building from 1-3pm on 17th April.

Tennyson’s imagination was captured by Arthurian myth, and particularly the figure of King Arthur. According to Hallam Tennyson, his father considered Arthur the ‘greatest of all poetical subjects’.[1] Through much of the nineteenth century, Tennyson published several poems based on the legend, including ‘Morte d’Arthur’, ‘Sir Galahad’, and ‘The Lady of Shalott’, before publishing the twelve-volume collection the Idylls of the King. The proliferation of Tennyson’s Arthurian poems in Victorian culture and literary imagination has led him to be dubbed by David Staines as the ‘father of the Arthurian renaissance’.[2] The Idylls is a collection of blank verse poems which were published in various sets between 1859 and 1885, retelling the myth of Arthur’s birth unto his death. The collection was very popular with Victorians, particularly Queen Victoria’s husband Prince Albert who received a dedication within the collection following his death in 1861.

Tennyson’s primary source for his Arthurian subjects was Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte Darthur (1485). Tennyson stated that ‘The vision of an ideal Arthur as I have drawn him […] had come upon me when, little more than a boy, I first lighted upon Malory’.[3] Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte Darthur was finished in either 1469 or 1470 and first printed in 1485 by William Caxton. The seventh print edition of Malory came in 1816, and this was the edition that Tennyson owned in several copies. Tennyson made the Idylls in twelve individual poems to replicate the twelve books in Malory’s corpus and scholars including Christopher Ricks, have extensively noted the linguistic allusions and echoes throughout the Idylls. However, Tennyson’s and Malory’s portrayals of King Arthur are distinct from one another, not least in their different mediums and language.

The Arthurian legend is one that has repeatedly returned since the sixth century and still haunts British literature and culture. Different versions of King Arthur have been created in various mediums for centuries and each version of the narrative can be considered spectral as the ‘story returns over and over, […] in different registers, each reflecting another perspective entangled in a skein of cultural interests’.[4] My research examines Tennyson’s portrayal of his Arthur as the ‘phantom king’ and how he re-models Malory’s version to reflect Victorian cultural interests. Tennyson sought to make ‘the old legends his own, [restore] the idealism, and [infuse] into them a spirit of modern thought and an ethical significance, setting his characters in a rich and varied landscape’.[5] The Idylls is haunted by its intertextual connections to Malory, but also is occupied with reproducing the myth for a Victorian audience. Given my interest in spectrality and return, the MEMORI session will focus on how Malory and Tennyson portray the death of their respective King Arthurs, in Malory’s ‘Sir Mordred’ and Tennyson’s ‘The Passing of Arthur’.

The texts follow overall a similar structure in which Arthur’s Round Table has fallen into disarray in the wake of Guinevere and Lancelot’s revealed affair. Knights have turned from Arthur to follow Mordred, and the King and the last of his loyal knights are preparing to go to battle. King Arthur has a dream of his late nephew, Gawain/Gawayne, who warns him of his impending death in battle. Despite the warning, Arthur goes to fight and whilst in combat with Mordred, Arthur kills him, but is also receives a mortal blow. The half-dead Arthur is carried from the battlefield by Sir Bedivere/Bedewere (and his brother Sir Lucan in the Malory) to a nearby chapel.

Once away from the battle, the dying Arthur commands Bedivere/Bedewere to take his sword, Excalibur, and throw it into a nearby body of water. The last knight of the Round Table leaves, but he cannot face throwing the sword, so he hides it and returns to Arthur. When Arthur asks for a description of how the sword sank below the water, Bedivere lies that the sword simply sank. The wounded King accuses Bedivere of betrayal and sends him out, three times in total, until Bedivere eventually obeys his King and Excalibur is caught by a hand from the water. Bedivere returns to Arthur, who knowing he is dying, asks the knight to carry him to the waterside. A barge or ship appears bearing three Queens and Arthur is taken aboard, and the boat sails away.

Whilst the two texts follow this same plot, there are significant differences between Tennyson’s King Arthur and Malory’s. What my research and the seminar will consider is how Tennyson re-models Arthur and his death differently to Malory. In particular, the presence of ghosts within the two texts, and how the cultural expectations surrounding masculinity and war affects the presentation of Arthur as a king and knight.

Areas for discussion:

  • What are the main similarities between Malory’s and Tennyson’s portrayal of King Arthur’s final battle and death?
  • What are the differences?
  • How is King Arthur portrayed as a king in Malory and Tennyson’s accounts?
  • How do the two describe their battle scenes?
  • What is the significance of the appearance of Gawain/Gawayne’s ghost?

Written by Morgan Lee.


[1] Hallam Tennyson, Alfred Lord Tennyson: A Memoir Volume 1, Cambridge Library Collection (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), p. 125.

[2] David Staines, ‘Tennyson’ in The Arthurian Encyclopaedia, ed. Norris J. Lacy (New York: The Boydell Press, 1986), p. 543.

[3] Christopher Ricks, The Poems of Tennyson in Three Volumes. Vol. 3, ed. Christopher Ricks, Longman Annotated English Poets (Harlow: Longman, 1987), p. 259.

[4] Julian Wolfreys, Victorian Hauntings: Spectrality, Gothic, the Uncanny and Literature (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2002), p. 4.

[5] Hallam Tennyson, Alfred Lord Tennyson: A Memoir Volume 2, Cambridge Library Collection (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), p. 122.

20th March 2024: FILM SCREENING


The MEMORI Reading Group invite you to join us on Wednesday 20th March 2024 for a free film screening of Monty Python and the Holy Grail (run time: 92mins). We will be in Room 0.36 of the John Percival Building from 3-5pm, and snacks and drinks will be provided.

We can’t wait to see you there!

21st February 2024: The Awntyrs off Arthure

This month, Margaret Finlay will be leading our meeting and we will be reading the Gawain romance, Awntyrs off Arthure, introduced by Margaret below. The meeting will be held in Rm 2.46 of the John Percival Building from 1-3pm on 21st February.

The Awntyrs off Arthure is a late fourteenth century or early fifteenth century romance set near the border of England and Scotland. The romance, which survives in four manuscripts, centres on the tensions of geopolitics and the morality of chivalrous and courtly life. Variously described as two separate romances roughly sewn together or else a finely crafted diptych, the Awntyrs poses many questions to the reader through its structure. What place does the supernatural have in the real and violent world of medieval life? Who owns land and by what authority?

The Awntyrs has many classic tropes of medieval romance, and especially Arthurian romance: there is a supernatural occurrence in a body of water in a forest, a knight comes to challenge Arthur’s court when they have sat down to feast. Both these tropes, however, are troubled. Despite Tarn Wathleyne already having enough supernatural connotations by being a lake in the middle of a forest, the ghost of Gaynor’s mother appears in fire and water, and warns Gaynor of the coming ruin of the Round Table. Where is Arthur to receive this message, and why is it heralded in such a disturbance? Further, Galeron’s appearance in this text breaks the romance barrier between literature and fiction: in his claim to the Scottish lands Gawain claims as his own, he troubles the romance trope with the real political troubles on the Anglo-Scottish border of the period. How does the author contend with bringing in the geopolitics of 1380-1415 to Arthur’s (fictional) England?

In my own research, I focus on Gawain as protagonist in this text as a representation of the socio-political moment. In the first adventure of the Awntyrs, when Gawain and Gaynor are separated from King Arthur’s hunting party in Inglewood Forest, the knight is present at a private and vulnerable meeting between Gaynor and her revenant mother who warns her daughter, and Gawain, of earthly greed and excess. His chivalry here is shown both in his bravery in confronting the ghostly corpse face-to-face and in his care for both his Queen and her mother. In the second adventure, Gawain takes up a quest offered by the stranger knight Galeron. When this Scotsman enters the hall to demand a battle with one of Arthur’s knights over rights to lands he claims as his own, Gawain is the first and only of Arthur’s knights to offer to engage. When he wins the gruesome battle, he generously relinquishes the contested lands to Galeron after Gawain receives the dukedom of two counties of south-west Wales, lordship of two cities in Ireland, and a number of impressive castles (664-72).[1] Possibly in response to rising taxes to cover costs of waging war or even the excesses of Richard II’s court, in the first part of the Awntyrs Gawain listens to and is chastened by the warning and prophecy of the revenant against greed and excess, demonstrating his idealised character. Indeed, the moral and spiritual lessons given by the revenant speak to the late 1300s gathering storm of religious upheaval. It is impossible to tell whether the author of this text was speaking for or against the protestant Lollard religious rebellion of this period, but the text appears concerned with earthly excesses and the greed of the nobility. Later, in the second part of the Awntyrs, this concern over earthly greed reappears more subtly: Gawain’s immediate decision to grant his northern lands to Galeron goes against the assumed desire for power and status through the accumulation of lands and lordships – instead, Gawain seems content with his new duchies of Glamorganshire and Carmarthenshire, and is at liberty to cede his previous holdings of Galloway and other contested Northern English and Scottish land. It is the contest between Galeron and Gawain in the second part of the Awntyrs that demonstrates the immediate concerns of the Anglo-Scottish tension in the second half of the fourteenth century. The violence and persistence of Galeron, the Scottish knight, and Gawain, the English knight, as they fight each other to claim lordship over borderlands mirrors the on-going skirmishes and violent incursions from both the English and Scottish military into enemy territory for the right to these contested lands. It is in this charged moment of religious upheaval and violence on the Anglo-Scottish border that this text places Gawain as a focal point in the ‘awntyrs’ of this border romance.

Areas for discussion:

  • What place does the supernatural have in the real and violent world of medieval life?
  • Who owns land and by what authority?
  • How does the author contend with bringing in the geopolitics of 1380-1415 to Arthur’s (fictional) England?
  • Why is Gawain’s foregrounded in a text ostensibly about the adventures of Arthur?
  • What is the purpose of the diptych structure, if any? Do the two halves seem connected at all?

Written by Margaret Finlay.


[1] For a discussion of the more oblique names of places in the grant that Gawain is given, see Andrew Breeze, ‘“The Awntyrs off Arthure”, Caerphilly, Oysterlow, and Wexford’, Arthuriana, 9.4 (1999), 63-68 and Rosamund Allen, ‘Place-Names in The Awntyrs Off Arthure: Corruption, Conjecture, Coincidence’, in Arthurian Studies in Honour of P.J.C. Field, edited by Bonnie Wheeler, Arthurian Studies LVII (Cambridge: Boydell & Brewer, 2004) pp. 181-98.

Geoffrey Chaucer, Dream Visions (26th October 2016)

chaucer-visions

Next meeting: 26th October 2016 / Room 1.26 / 3-5pm

Alongside romance, dream visions formed one of the most popular genres of literary writing in the later Middle Ages. Chaucer wrote four dream visions before he wrote the Canterbury Tales, and his dream poetry draws on a range of classical and continental sources, especially French dream visions and love lyrics from the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Chaucer’s choice to write dream poems was paralleled by the dream visions of his English contemporaries, including William Langland’s Piers Plowman and the Gawain-poet’s Pearl, and was emulated by fifteenth-century Chaucerian followers such as John Lydgate (The Complaint of the Black Knight) and James I of Scotland (The Kingis Quair). As a genre or mode, the dream vision is capacious and flexible: it can accommodate narrative, dialogue and debate, lyric, both the real and the allegorical, and both secular and spiritual concerns.

The Book of the Duchess (c.1368-72), Chaucer’s earliest dream vision and first sustained narrative poem, was likely written for Duke John of Gaunt in the years following the death of his wife Blanche, and it addresses ideas of grief and consolation following the death of a loved one. The Parliament of Fowls was perhaps composed c.1380-82, when King Richard II was negotiating for the hand of Anne of Bohemia. Yet these are much more than occasional poems. These poems deploy and interrogate theories of the origins and nature of dreams, and Boethian ideas of consolation. They explore themes of love, loss, death, and desire, and consider the interrelations of nature and culture, experience and authority, and the nature of and inspiration for poetry itself.

Questions for discussion:

  1. What do you make of the narrators? How do they compare with Chaucer’s other narrators with which you may be familiar – for instance, in The Canterbury Tales or Troilus and Criseyde?
  2. What does Chaucer suggest about the sources and nature of dreams, and their interpretation?
  3. What is the role of books in Chaucer’s dream visions?
  4. How do sleep, insomnia, and emotions feature?
  5. What do the settings contribute to the poems’ themes and questions?
  6. How do Chaucer’s dream poems portray chivalric figures? (compared to, say, Chaucer’s romances?)
  7. How do Chaucer’s dream poems represent women?
  8. To what extent do Chaucer’s dream visions demand to be read on an allegorical level?
  9. To what extent are they independent of their immediate patronage contexts?
  10. Does the Book of the Duchess offer consolation, and if so, what sort? Does the Parliament of Fowls offer any resolution to debate, and if so, what sort?

The auctoritas of Geoffrey of Monmouth

In his Anglica Historia (1534), Polydore Vergil published his scathing comments about Geoffrey of Monmouth, which subsequently ignited a debate over the veracity of the Historia regum Britanniae.[1] Quoting the twelfth-century historian, William of Newburgh, he writes that

there hathe appeared a writer in owre time which, to purse these defaultes of Brittains, feininge of them thinges to be laughed at, hathe extolled them above the nobleness of Romains and Macedonians, enhauncinge them with moste impudent lyeing. This man is cauled Geffray, surnamed Arthure, bie cause that oute of the olde lesings of Brittons, being somewhat augmented bie him, he hathe recited manie things of this King Arthure, taking unto him both the coloure of Latin speech and the honest pretext of an Historie.[2]

Vergil believed the Historia to be largely fictitious: he regarded Brutus to be an invention of the author, and he also suggested that Geoffrey’s portrait of Arthur had been highly embellished. British historians and antiquarians, such as John Leland, John Prise, and Humphrey Llwyd, were not receptive to the Anglica Historia, and they rushed to defend Geoffrey.

Yet Polydore Vergil’s objections about the Historia regum Britanniae were not new. In the twelfth century, Gerald of Wales and – most famously – William of Newburgh had their doubts about the reliability of Geoffrey’s work. Vergil, then, was merely continuing a tradition of skepticism about the Historia that had been popular since the twelfth century, and so his comments were not, necessarily, the product of Renaissance humanist doubt. This short post will consider how medieval and early modern commentators on the Historia regum Britanniae used their scholarly arguments to explore ideas of authority and authorship; in particular, it focuses on how William of Newburgh and John Leland used their evaluative historiographical practices to influence the reputation of Geoffrey of Monmouth.

William of Newburgh

Geoffrey’s most profound early critic was William of Newburgh. His skepticism of the Historia regum Britanniane is well documented in his Historia rerum Anglicarum (‘The History of English Affairs’, c. 1198), a history of the Anglo-Norman kings from William I to Richard I, which focuses in particular on the civil unrest in the reign of King Stephen. In this text, William includes a vicious attack on Geoffrey and the Historia, and the prologue to his text begins with a treatise on history and truth. He upholds Gildas and Bede as the most esteemed writers of ‘British’ history, particularly as they were committed to revealing the truth about the Britons, but he laments that

in our own day a writer [scriptor] of the opposite tendency has emerged. To atone for these faults of the Britons he weaves a laughable [ridicula] web of fiction [figmenta] about them, with shameless vainglory extolling them far above the virtue of the Macedonians and the Romans. This man is called Geoffrey and bears the soubriquet Arthur, because he has taken up the stories about Arthur from the old fictitious [figmentis] accounts of the Britons, has added to them himself, and by embellishing them in the Latin tongue he has cloaked them with the honourable title of history.[3]

In this passage, William’s main objection to the Historia is its basis in fiction [figemnta], rather than fact, and he complains that such an unreliable work has been produced in Latin, the language of authority. The contrast between fact and fiction demonstrates the unreliability of Geoffrey’s work, especially since the deeds of Arthur in the Historia have been over exaggerated. William insists that here is no justification for such ‘wanton and shameless lying’ (I.5), and dismisses Geoffrey as a mediocre historian who has ‘not learned the truth about events’ (I.5).

William’s prologue continues with a brief descriptive of the Saxon invasion by Hengist, and he lists the English kings that ruled after him, including Ethelbert, Aethelfrith, Edwin, and Oswald. According to William, these are historically accurate [historicam veritatem] events as they are accounted for in Bede’s Historia Ecclesiastica. William then uses Bede’s account to disprove Geoffrey’s version of events, and he claims that

it is clear that Geoffrey’s entire narration about Arthur, his successors, and his predecessors after Vortigern, was invented partly by himself and partly by others. The motive was either an uncontrolled passion for lying, or secondly a desire to please the Britons, most of whom are considered to be so barbaric that they are said to be still awaiting the future coming of Arthur being unwitting to entertain the fact of his death. (I.9)

William’s juxtaposition of these accounts is clearly designed to assert the authority of Bede, rather than Geoffrey. Nevertheless, his assertion that created the Historia ‘partly by himself’, suggests that William also regarded Geoffrey as an auctor who was distinguished from scriptors, compilators, and commentators by their ability to invent their own work.[4] Technically, of course, Geoffrey only fulfills the category of scriptor as he only presents himself as a translator of the ‘British book’, which he claims was given to him by Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford. By acknowledging that some of the content of the Historia regum Britanniae was unique – even it was unaccounted for – Geoffrey’s principal critic is also his most important bestower of auctoritas.

After comparing Geoffrey with Bede, William casts his final judgment over the veracity of the Historia. He interrogates Geoffrey’s account of Arthur’s reign, particularly his foreign conquests, and he remarks

how could the historians of old, who took immense pains to omit from their writings nothing worthy of mention, and who are known to have recorded even modest events, have passed over in silence this man beyond compare and his achievements so notably beyond measure? How, I ask, have they suppressed in silence one more notable than Alexander the Great – this Arthur, monarch of the Britons, and his deeds – or Merlin, prophet of the Britons, one equal to Isaiah, and his utterances? […] So since the historians of old have made not even the slightest mention of these persons, clearly all that Geoffrey has published in his writer about Arthur and Merlin has been invented by liars to feed the curiosity of those less wise. (I.14)

Here, William’s process of evaluation is framed through a series of complex rhetorical questions and juxtapositions focusing on Geoffrey and the ‘historians of old’. The rhetorical questions are designed to reinforce the authority of Gildas and Bede (even if they are not directly mentioned by name), and they imply that it would be unreasonable to doubt the reliability of two writers who recorded every detail of events. William entirely discredits Geoffrey’s attempt to fill the lacuna in insular history, and his conclusion that the stories of Arthur and Merlin Historia must be an invention, especially since they cannot be confirmed by any of the ancient historians, appears to be perfectly valid.

John Leland

The critical attitudes to Geoffrey’s Historia regum Britanniae began to change in the sixteenth century. The English antiquarian John Leland objected to Vergil’s claim that the Historia was an unreliable source, and in his De uiris Illustribus (‘Of Famous Men’, first completed 1535-6 and revised 1543-6), Leland offered a defence of Geoffrey, whom he placed alongside various other writers of ‘British’ history, ranging from the first Druids to Robert Widow. The account in De uiris Illustribus can be considered to be the first biography of Geoffrey, who is described as a man who ‘took great pleasure in reading ancient history’ and who ‘also delighted in scholarly intercourse’.[5] Leland situates Geoffrey within the clerical and academic circles of his time, and he is upheld as model of learning and authority. He praises him for his dedication to ‘British’ history as ‘he stands alone in having rescued a great part of Britain’s antiquity [Britannicae antiquitatis] well and truly from destruction through a diligence [diligentia] which is beyond all praise’ (Leland, p. 308-9). Leland presents Geoffrey as a translator, rather than an author, of his own work, and he writes that

he openly declares that he performed the task [officio] only of an interpreter [interpretis]; in other words, he translated a British history, written in the British language, and brought to him by Walter Map, the archdeacon of Oxford, into Latin. (Leland, p. 310-11)

This remark is essentially an apology for the number of inventions that can be found in the Historia, and it is also designed to counteract the comments of Geoffrey’s critics, who credited him with fabricating many of the events in his work. According to Leland, then, Geoffrey had a limited amount of creative agency, and he simply acted as a cultural mediator by transmitting an ancient account of the ‘British’ past to his twelfth century readers.

Leland’s biography of Geoffrey includes a lengthy scholarly attack on Polydore Vergil. Leland complains that the Italian historian

launches a frenzied attack on Geoffrey, in order to undermine Geoffrey’s authority [autoritatem] and to accumulate weight and force as well as credibility [ueritatem] for his own empty inanities. Then, for much of the earlier part of his history, this most impudent fellow is forced to follow the writer whom he has just torn to pieces with so many harsh words. But one should surely forgive this impertinence when there was practically no other authority [autorem] he could have followed. (p. 310-11)

Here, Leland asserts that Vergil is a hypocrite for discrediting Geoffrey, and then using his account to form the basis of the record of insular history in the Anglica Historia. Leland’s comments also imply that ‘English’ history, from the Saxon period through the Normans to the Plantagenet kings, and the current Tudor monarchy, depends upon early ‘British’ history for its authenticity. Indeed, during the fifteenth century, the idea of cultural inheritance between England and Wales was being more explicitly acknowledged, especially as Henry VII had used his descent from Cadwallader, the last king of the Britons, to legitimate his claim to the throne. According to Leland, then, the Historia still had political currency, and he consistently emphasises the authority of Geoffrey, the ‘good author’, in order to expose Vergil, the ‘foreigner’, as the unreliable fraud.

In De uiris Illustribus, Leland also includes an assessment of Vergil’s sources that he used in the Anglica Historia. Vergil’s account of early insular history relied heavily on Tacitus’ Agricola (c. 98) and Julius Caesar’s Commentarii de Bello Gallico (c. 58-49 BCE), both of which had grown in popularity during the Early Modern period. For Vergil, these Latin Caesar and Tacitus were more authoritative than Gildas and Bede, who lived several centuries later than the period they were writing about. Leland, however, remarks that

none of them [the Romans], as far as I know, wrote anything worth mentioning before Caesar. Besides, not everything that Caesar wrote – however much the Dunce [Polydore Vergil] makes of his statements – seems to me to have proceeded from an oracle; the same applies to many other things about the Britons which were later handed down to posterity by Latin authors. (Leland, pp. 310-13)

This assessment of Caesar is also a judgment of Polydore Vergil. Leland implies that it was unreasonable for Vergil to use Roman – and therefore biased – history in order to counteract Geoffrey’s version of ‘British’ history. Moreover, Leland also disregards the authority of Gildas and Bede, especially since the authorship of De Excidio Britanniae was subject to question after its publication in 1525, and the Historia Ecclesiastica included very little information on early ‘British’ history prior to the Saxon conquest. Leland’s detailed evaluation of his these sources interrogates the comparative methodology that Geoffrey’s critics used to disprove his account of insular history, and through his scholarly inquiry, Leland demonstrates that the Historia is the only real authority worth following.

The short biography of Geoffrey of Monmouth in De uirius Illustribus canonised the ‘British’ historian as an auctor – a term that, as A. J. Minnis points out, ‘denoted someone who was at once a writer and an authority, someone not merely to be read but also to be respected and believed’.[6] John Leland’s appraisal of Geoffrey challenged and disproved the objections of the critics of the Historia regum Britanniae, and his work later influenced the Welsh historians John Prise and Humphrey Llwyd, who both wrote defenses of Geoffrey in the latter half of the sixteenth century. These classically educated scholars and intellectuals held the Historia regum Britanniae in great esteem, rescuing its reputation from the likes of William of Newburgh and Polydore Vergil. Through their arguments, Leland, Prise, and Llwyd proved that Geoffrey’s authority and the veracity of his Historia was beyond all doubt.


This is a revised version of a paper given at the International Medieval Congress, University of Leeds (July 2015)

[1] This debate has been previously explored by James P. Carley, who viewed the antagonism between the two historians as prefiguring twentieth-century scholarship on the ‘historical Arthur’ that became increasingly popular among historians and archaeologists following the work of E. K Chambers and Leslie Alcock; see James P. Carley, ‘Polydore Vergil and John Leland on King Arthur: The Battle of the Books’, in King Arthur: A Casebook, ed. Edward Donald Kennedy (New York: Garland, 1996), pp. 185-204.

[2] Polydore Vergil’s English History, from an early translation presented among the MSS. of The Royal Library in the British Museum. Volume 1. Containing the First Eight Books, comprising the period prior to the Norman Conquest, ed. Sir Henry Ellis (London: Printed for the Camden Society, by John Bowyer Nichols and Son, Parliament Street, MDCCCXLVI), p. 29. All further references to Vergil’s Anglia Historia are to this edition and are given parenthetically in the text.

[3] William of Newburgh, The History of English Affairs, ed. and trans. P. G. Walsh and M. J. Kennedy (Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1988), p. 29. All further references to William’s Historia rerum Anglicarum are to this edition and are given in the text.

[4] On the definitions of the auctor, scriptor, commentator, and compiler, see A. J. Minnis, Medieval Theory of Authorship: Scholastic Literary Attitudes in the Later Middle Ages (London: Scolar Press, 1984), p. 94.

[5] John Leland, De uiris Illustribus, ed. and trans. James P. Carley (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies and Oxford: Bodleian Library, 2010), p. 321. All further reference to Leland’s De uiris Illustribus are to this edition and are given parenthetically in the text. It should be noted that Leland’s length discussion on Polydore Vergil and King Arthur were later insertions, and the entry on Geoffrey of Monmouth in the first version of De uirius Illustribus was purely concerned with the writer in question.

[6] A. J. Minnis, The Medieval Theory of Authorship, p. 10.

Gildas and Bede, Models of insular history (17th August 2016)

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Bede, Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum (BL MS Arundel 74, f.1)

Next Meeting: 17th August 2016 / Room 2.46 / 3-5pm

In the classical and late antique periods, continental writers were the main authors of insular history. The historical works by Julius Caesar and Tactius dominated the Roman view of Britannia and its people, while Orosius and Isidore of Seville included short geographical descriptions of Britain in their historical works, which were later used by insular writers.

In the early Middle Ages, two writers emerged who offered a more comprehensive view of the early history of Britain: Gildas and Bede.

Gildas, De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae (c. 540)

Gildas’ De Excidio is the earliest insular history of Britain. The early books focus on the Roman and Anglo-Saxon conquests of Britain, while the later books are more polemical, and are intended to condemn tyrants and the clergy. De Excidio is a salvation history, with the Britons presented as God’s chosen people who are akin to the Israelites in the Old Testament. The mode of Gildas’ history is essentially tragic, and he frequently laments how corruption and tyranny has consumed Britain and its people.

Bede, Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum (731)

Bede’s Historia ecclesiastica covers the history of England, ecclesiastical and political, from the time of Julius Caesar to the present day (731). The first book includes an account of the Anglo-Saxon invasion, and while Bede borrowed material from Gildas, he emphasises how God’s favour passed from the Britons to the Saxons instead. The first book ends with Saint Augustine’s mission to England in 597, and the following books account for how Christianity spread among the seven Anglo-Saxon kingdoms.

In the twelfth century, several historians began to write regnal histories that relied on Gildas and Bede. William of Malmesbury wrote a history of Anglo-Saxon England that continued up to the present day (1127), while William of Newburgh focused on the period from the Norman Conquest to the end of the twelfth century. Henry of Huntingdon chose to write a history of Britain from the foundation of Britain to the present day, and he continually revised and expanded his work, which eventually ended in 1154. Henry quotes Bede at length in the early books of the Historia Anglorum, and he also rationalises Bede’s account of the conversion of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms. Geoffrey of Monmouth, however, insisted that neither Gildas nor Bede had adequately accounted for the early insular history of Britain, and his Historia regum Britanniae records the deeds of the kings of Britain from foundation of Britain to the death of Cadwalladr in 682.

The prologues that we will be discussing are testament to the legacy of Gildas and Bede, and their models of insular history.

Questions for discussion

  • What is the function of history? Do the historians all agree on the moral purpose of history?
  • How do the historians present themselves? What sort of authorial personas do they adopt?
  • What is the significance of the various literary authorities that these writers invoke in their prefaces? (i.e. The Bible, classical and Christian authors, oral and written sources)
  • In his introduction, Lake suggests the commission topos is a ‘rhetorical device designed to influence the audience’s view of the author’. Do the dedications absolve the historians of their responsibility (as Lake suggests), or do they reveal the types of social networks that they operated it?
  • Do you think these prologues are a collection of topoi or do the individual author’s feelings predominate?
  • How do the twelfth-century historians construct Gildas and Bede as authorities?
  • In the twelfth century, many historians moved away from the annalistic style of historiography. How do they construct their historical frameworks in their prologues? Do they identify any important themes that might inform their histories?
  • Why do you think that William of Newburgh attacks Geoffrey of Monmouth so vehemently?

The Awntyrs off Arthure (20th April 2016)

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Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Douce 324

Next meeting: 20th April 2016 / Room 2.47 / 3-5pm

The Awntyrs off Arthure is a Middle English Alliterative poem thought to have been composed between the late fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries. The text tells two stories, each of which feature Gawain as the protagonist. The Awntyrs is preserved in four manuscripts: Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Douce 324, Lambeth Palace Library, MS 491.B, Thornton MS, Lincoln Cathedral Library, MS 91, and Ireland Blackburn MS, Robert H. Taylor Collection, Princeton, New Jersey. The text contains distinctive features and variations in each of these manuscripts, suggesting that none of the texts can be perceived as the ‘original’. The complexity of the poem’s composition suggests that it was purposefully created as a literary piece, rather than descending from an oral tradition.

Previous generations of criticism on the themes of structure and unity in the Awntyrs have traditionally suggested that the poem represents a poorly joined bipartite narrative with little to indicate a relationship between the two sides. Ralph Hanna builds upon on Herman Lubke’s theory that the Awntyrs constitutes two separate poems joined together by a third party, in his 1974 edition of the text, splitting the two ‘halves’ completely and giving them the subheadings ‘The Awntyrs A’ and ‘The Awntyrs B.’ At best, it was conceded that the poem ‘remains a remarkable fragment of the same kind of poetic art as Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, but a fragment only’. However, A. C. Spearing’s seminal comparison of the structure of the Awntyrs with the diptych marks the beginning of a new wave of criticism, more interested in arguing for some kind of unity than against it.

  • Should the Awntyrs be read as two distinct and separate poems joined together by a later hand, or a single and coherent poetic structure?
  • If you think that the poem is formed of two separate halves, how and why might the two parts have been joined to create the poem that we have now?
  • If the poem should be read as a single and coherent text, how do the two storylines interact with one another?
  • Do theories of structure effect the way in which the text should be read?
  • How might images of mirroring and reflection be important to the text?

 

The warnings that the ghost of Guinevere’s mother address two of the central elements of romance narratives: love and war.

  • What do you make of the presentation of Guinevere’s mother?
  • Is there any significance in the fact that these warnings are given to Gawain and Guinevere?
  • Is national identity an important theme within the poem?

 

The Lincoln Thornton Manuscript also contains the only surviving copy of the Alliterative Morte Arthur. This text comes similarly close to a criticism of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table in its discussion of fortune and King Arthur’s dream:

“Freke,” says the philosopher, “thy fortune is passed
For thou shall find her thy fo; fraist when thee likes!
Thou art at the highest, I hete thee forsooth;
Challenge now when thou will, thou cheves no more!
Thou hast shed much blood and shalkes destroyed,
Sakeles, in surquidrie, in sere kinges landes…” (AMA 3394-3399)

  • Are there any parallels between these lines, and the questions Gawain asks of Guinevere’s mother?
  • What does the Awntyrs suggest about fortune?
  • Does Arthur’s solution to the combat between Gawain and Galeron answer the problems of conquest raised by Gawain himself in the first part of the poem?

‘Erec et Enide’ and ‘Geraint mab Erbin’ (18th March)

Gregynog is located in that region of Wales which is generally called “The Middle Borderland”. Of all the Welsh border country this middle area epitomizes the physical and human characteristics of a border region in geographical terms. The uplands of Central Wales extend long fingers of land to the east, such as the Long Mountain and the Kerry Hills, while also in this same region tongues of riverine lowland reach westwards far into Wales, as in the Upper Severn, or Vale of Powys, near which Gregynog lies. This is also a region in which after many centuries of conflict two peoples and two languages have reached a situation in which although each strives to maintain its identity, both also integrate into a region which is essentially transitional in character.[1]


The gallant knight errant often crosses a variety of borders as he journeys through the landscape of medieval romance. So too did the several members of the MEMORI Reading Group as we traveled – albeit on a bus, rather than on a noble steed – from Cardiff to Greynog Hall for the inaugural MA English Literature Conference.

At Gregynog, the Reading Group revisited Chretien’s de Troyes’ Erec et Enide and Geraint mab Erbin from the Mabinogion. For this session, the group consisted of a range of regular members mixed with some new faces, but all of the attendees are currently enrolled on the English Literature MA programme, and have studied some medieval literature.

Many members of the group were familiar with Chretien’s other romances, or other manifestations of the Arthurian legend, although the Welsh text was a little more unfamiliar. The group discussed a range of topics, including: the various court scenes; the aggressive dwarf; the poor vavasour; the stag hunt and the sparrow hawk contest; the marriage of Erec/Geraint and Enid(e); and we also considered why the two tales differ in their style and form. As ever, the group was engaged with the material, and the session provided good opportunity to reflect on and to further appreciate the intricate relationships between these two texts.

Three MA students, who regularly attend the MEMORI Reading Group and Research Seminar, also gave their first papers at the conference. Charli Pruce spoke on ‘Knowledge and Power in the High Medieval Renaissance’; Sarah Jones talked about ‘Escapism, Danger, and Medievalism in the Secondary Worlds of J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis’; Arthur Usher presented on ‘Ill-Speaking in Malory’s Morte Darthur’; and Olivia Mills delivered a paper on ‘Mountains, Myth and Magic – Welsh Landscape in Children’s Fantasy Literature’.

After two days of in rural Wales, the group returned to Cardiff. The Reading Group will reconvene in April in our usual location, when we will be reading the Awyntwrs of Arthure. All welcome.

 

[1] Harold Carter and J. Gareth Thomas, ‘Gregynog – The Regional Setting’, in Gregynog, ed. Glyn Tegai Hughes, Prys Morgan and J. Gareth Thomas (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1977), pp. 1-10 (p.1).

French and English fabliaux (17th February 2016)

The Summoner from the Ellesmere Manuscript of The Canterbury Tales

Next meeting: 17th January 2016 / Room 2.47 / 3-5pm

The Fabliaux genre was popular in twelfth and thirteenth century France, and around 150 French fabliaux are now extant. The genre was briefly revived in England the fourteenth century, and Geoffrey Chaucer included several fabliaux in The Canterbury Tales.

Fabliaux are traditionally set in real, familiar places, and the characters are ordinary sorts – tradesmen, peasants, priests, students, restless wives; the plots are realistically motivated tricks and ruses. The genre presents a lively image of everyday life among the middle and lower classes, but the class politics and function of these tales are often complex: some scholars suggest that they were subversive tales which were consumed by the lower classes, while others argue that they were a product of aristocratic society that were designed to reinforce social hierarchy.

We are reading a selection of French and English fabliaux, including:

Le Prestre Crucefié / The Crucified Priest (Old French / early thirteenth century / France)

In this tale, a cuckolded husband, who is also a wood carver, castrates a priest who has an affair with his wife. There are two later versions of this fabliau, including De Connebert and Du Prestre Teint (The Dyed Priest)

Li Dis de la vescie à Prestre / The Tale of the Priest’s Bladder (Old French / early fourteenth century / Antwerp

In this tale, two friars beg a dying priest to leave them his property. The Priest consents on the grounds that the friars bring their Prior with them the next day. Five friars arrive without their Prior, but the Priest insists he will only reveal his secret in the presence of the Sheriffs and the Mayor. The Priest berates the friars for their importunity, and bequeaths his bladder to them. This text is an analogue for The Summoner’s Tale in The Canterbury Tales.

Chaucer’s Summoner’s Prologue and Tale (Middle English / late fourteenth century / England)

In The Canterbury Tales, The Summoner takes offense at The Friar’s Tale, which focuses on a corrupt summoner and his interaction with a demon. In response, The Summoner tells the tale of a dishonest friar, who wanders from house to house begging for alms.

The friar arrives at the house of Thomas and his wife: Thomas is ill, and their child has just died. The friar reassures Thomas’ wife that their child has entered heaven, but he insists that Thomas is ill because he has not donated money to the church. The friar continues to lecture Thomas, and finally asks him for money to build a cloister. Thomas tells the friar he has a gift for him, and that he can have if he divides it between his twelve brothers. The friar attempts to retrieve the gift, which Thomas is sitting on, but it is, in fact, no more than a fart.

The friar is chased from the house, and complains to the lord of the village about how he is supposed to divide a fart into twelve. The lord suggests that a cartwheel could be used to distribute the fart equally.

 

 Some possible topics for discussion

  • The body / fetishization?
  • C12th / C13th contexts?
  • Conservative (Norris Lacy) or subversive (Benson)? Reflective or corrective?
  • ‘Fabliaux are the essence of Bakhtin’s carnivalesque and violence is often a part of that humour which was directed at mixed audiences of peasantry, bourgeoisie, and nobility.’
  • The meanings generated by torture and (judicial / non-judicial punishment)?
  • ‘The episodes interrogate the “Other within” – those who function within a society and a shared cultural identity, but who transgress societal norms and act in ways beyond social or literary sanction’.
  • What are the advantages and limitations of reading the Summoner’s Tale as a response to the Friar’s?
  • Despite the scholarly emphasis placed on Chaucer’s comic tales, the English fabliau is relatively rare. Why use a form that was, to all intents and purposes, dead?
  • And how does Chaucer use the form? What are the characteristics of Chaucerian fabliaux?
  • (and if you want more, you could look at one version of Boccaccio’s handling of the fabliau form from II.iv of the Decameron: http://www.brown.edu/Departments/Italian_Studies/dweb/texts/DecShowText.php?lang=eng&myID=nov0402&expand=day04 )

 

 

 

 

 

Lanval and Sir Launfal (27th January 2016)

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Text of Lanval from British Library Harley MS 978, f. 134r

Next meeting: 27th January / Room 2.47 / 3-5pm

Lanval is an Anglo-Norman Breton lai, which was written by Marie de France in the twelfth century. It focuses on a knight in the Arthurian court, who is pursued by Queen Guinevere. Lanval, however, refuses the queen’s advances as he already has a lover – the fairy mistress. Guinevere subsequently insists that Lanval is a homosexual, and she tells Arthur that Lanval has shamed her by spurning her love. Lanval is then ordered to appear in court where he is judged by the king and his barons.

Sir Launfal an indirect adaptation of Lanval in Middle English, which was produced in the late fourteenth century. It survives in a single fifteenth-century manuscript, British Library MS Cotton Caligula A. ii. Sir Launfal is draws on two particular texts: the Middle English Sir Landevale (a translation of Marie’s lai), and the Old French lay of Graelent.

Questions for discussion

  1. How is the relationship between Lanval and Guinevere portrayed in the two texts? Why is Lanval so suspicious of the queen in the Middle English version?
  2. How is the court represented? How does law and order operate in the two texts?
  3. What is the significance of the Fairy Mistress? How does she bring about resolution in the two texts?
  4. Why is there a greater emphasis on generosity, finance, and economics in the Middle English version?
  5. How are the values of shame and honour employed in the two texts?
  6. How has the original Celtic material been reused in the two texts?