MacCamelot: Stealing King Arthur, or Musing on Pseudo Histories

Oops! I made a grave mistake of responding to a link posted on someone's Facebook page. It was a poorly written pseudo-history article on King Arthur. I noted that it was an argument full of holes, and posted a comment (below), expecting a lively exchange. Instead I was unfriended for my candor. So very sad for the loss of friendship, I clearly misjudged her. I'm also flummoxed. Was I barking up the wrong tree? Perhaps I should have checked my allegory at the door.

Maybe it's because I've read so much pre-medieval and medieval scholarship, that I can't engage in reading pop-culture articles without a response. I thought the article was very poorly thought out, and said so. But it got me interested in researching the so-called "Scottish connection posed by Edinburgh author Adam Ardrey, (apparently he has an axe to grind with the English and Christianity). I was also curious to see if there were any interesting rebuttals posted on the internet.

I couldn't access the original link to the article in question as my friend had unfriended me. Then I remembered my browser's History menu. Yes! So here it is:

Was King Arthur actually Scottish? New research assesses the evidence

(More to come once I process it... or you can take a gander over to the Celebrate Scotland site. What follows below are roughshod notes—as I try and sort out my thoughts on the page. Or try and write my way out of a paper bag. So consider this a draft in progress.)

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What I wrote on my former friend's Facebook page: 

"Augh, these dim-witted articles drive me crazy. Wasn't a myth of English-speaking people, as no one was really speaking much by way of English yet. Briton, maybe, Cumbric. Welsh was still differentiating itself from Cumbric at the time. Nennius was a bit of a fabulator. Geoffrey of Monmouth was much worse. If so, Arthur would have to be king of the Dalriadic Scotti, not the modern Scots. And it would be spelled Artio(s) or Artiaus (the bear). The entire west of Britain was Cumbric-speaking after the 5th c., with pockets of Erse speakers, significantly in Eboricum, along the Clyde, the Hebrides, and to north.
The place-names mentioned in the article are, in essence, Welsh words. it's really hard to get Avalon/ Welsh Afallon; Breton Avallenn from Hinba, or Iona.
Then there's the problem that both the Bretons and the Irish also have Arthurian tale, not to mention that the oldest Arthurian tale, Culhwch and Olwen is in Welsh.
Must be some sort of sugar rush from swilling too much Irn Bru affecting their brains."

So, was that above post harsh enough to merit my banishment from the kingdom of Facebook Friendships?

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OK, so what little we do know is that King Arthur of myth and legend, was busy fighting against the Anglo-Saxon foe, so he couldn't be English as the Angles become Anglish. The Kingdom of Scotland wasn't founded until ca. 839, or 850 AD, so Arthur also couldn't be Scottish, as there was no such thing as Scotland yet. Caledonia was populated with Pictish natives and Irish settlers.

The Irish Scotti of Ulster migrated en masse to the edge of the Pictish lands (in what is now western Scotland), and founded the Kingdom of Dalriada (Dál Riata) in Caledonia at the end of the 5th c., so, if King Arthur was Scottish, as the article claimed, by this same insane reasoning, wouldn't that make Arthur Irish, and not Scottish?? LOL.

Pictland eventually fell to the Irish Scotti in 839 AD., Certainly Arthur was a Celtic, maybe Cumbrian, or proto-Welsh, or Cornish, or possibly a Romano-British, war leader, but Scottish? But not Anglish. What would Bede say?

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This article, from the Scotsman, offers a more balanced rendition (if only they didn't use the word "Scottish"; my goat dander is all up in a fluff:

Fabled King Arthur 'was a Scottish warlord' - The Scotsman

Author Adam Ardrey claims that Arthur was actually Arthur Mac Aedan, the sixth-century son of an ancient King of Scotland. Ardrey claims that instead of the romantic English king of legend who lived at Camelot – which is often said to be Tintagel in Cornwall or in Wales – Arthur was actually Arthur Mac Aedan, the sixth-century son of an ancient King of Scotland, whose Camelot was a marsh in Argyll. Ardrey, an amateur historian who works as an advocate in Edinburgh and previously wrote a book claiming Merlin the wizard was actually a politician from Glasgow, spent years investigating his theories and says that they can be proved “beyond reasonable doubt”. The assertions in his book Finding Arthur: The True Origins Of The Once And Future King are strengthened by the discovery in 2011—what some experts believe is King Arthur’s round table at Stirling Castle. Read more here: The Scotsman

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Arthur was an English king? Where did that memo come from? In the 6th c, there was no Scotland. Certainly not a Scottish king. Pictish, maybe. And Merlin was a Weegie politician? 'Splains a lot. Must've been a Tory. Ardrey's theories can be proved “beyond reasonable doubt”? Amateur historian, indeed.

Intro to Folklore, Dundes, Medieval Welsh Language & Lit., Kla

Medieval Welsh Language & Literature; 
Prof. Kathryn Klar   (audited)
FALL 2001: Celtic Studies146A (4 units), 

A selection of medieval Welsh prose and poetry from medieval Welsh manuscripts: Culhwch and Olwen, the earliest Arthurian tale in any vernacular language, and Aneirin?s Gododdin, which has the earliest reference in the vernacular to King Arthur.  ther texts will include the Mabinogi and poems, The Gododdin (Canu Aneirin).Texts will be read, all or in part, in Middle Welsh; for those works read in extracts, translations of the entire work will be available. In-class translations will normally form part of each class and a reader will be made available. Grading based upon class participation, and final paper.

TEXTS:

Dafydd ap Gwilym

Owein, Chwedyl Iarlles Y Ffynnawn

Bran

Pwyll Pendeuic Dyuet

Manawydan uab Llyr,(White Book, Rhydderch) Patrick Ford

Lear and His daughters (Red Book of Hergest), Strachan

Cyfranc Lludd a Llevelys, Ifor Williams

Intro to Early Welsh, Strachan

For some reason, I didn't do so well in the class. The events of 9/11 made me ADD; I don't even remember doing a paper.

            ...............................................

Intro to Folklore

Prof Alan Dundes  
FALL 2001: ANTHRO 160A  (4 units),
(Cross-registered, SFSU, grade A)

TEXTS:

The Study of American Folklore, Harold Brunvand

International Folkloristics, ed. Alan Dundes

Folklore Matters, Alan Dundes

Holy Writ as Oral Lit, Alan Dundes

The Study of Folklore, Alan Dundes

Life is Like a Chicken Coop Ladder, Alan Dundes,

Plus reader, reserved readings.
I collected and annotated over 60 pieces of folklore from informants in Portugal, Ireland, and California. They are in this blog and also in the Folklore Archives, Kroeber Hall, where Ishi once lived. I loved this class, I never wanted it to end. I am grateful for the time I got to spend with Alan; Neil was a special pet of Alan's, so we spent many an hour jawing  in Alan's office. Neil called him Papa Dundes. Alan's heart was big as the world.  WWDS has become my motto.

If I hadn't gone to Portugal right after 9/11, chances would be pretty good I would've dropped out of school. I was a bad state, no focus, no stamina, etc. So maybe this class saved me.

I eventually plan to transcribe my class notes, so this is a placeholder. A reminder. —MH 11/2015

One Brief Shining Moment: Remembering Kennedy, summary

Klar, Celtic Romanticism 170
Summary

ONE BRIEF SHINING MOMENT:
Remembering Kennedy
by William Manchester

William Manchester’s poetic tribute to, and documentation of the Kennedy legend—written twenty years after his death—paints JFK as an Arthurian martyr-messiah. He begins his essay with facts of the assassination and then maps the nation’s psyche. A segue to the official mourning period and the forecast of its rapid passing, versus the nation’s protracted grief, becomes the focus of his essay.

Manchester weaves a scant biography of Kennedy: how Jack, as a child, read about the knights of the roundtable, of his youth as a knight in training, of his political career as king, and of his death as heroic exemplar. He reminds us of how time erased the man, thus replacing him with a legend as old as humanity. 

In the epigram from Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur: “There thou lyest...” he evokes the death of Launcelot and of the roundtable, he compares it to the death of an idyllic era that never was: America in the ’60s. Though it was the age of the antihero, of victim, it was a kinder, gentler nation that might have been. 

 He writes of how we incorporated/ appropriated images of Kennedy into our lives. We are inside Bobby and/or Jack’s heads via the cosmos: “You ...recall...the Southern Cross.... ” Jack as a rising star. Text and sub-text. ... “When he shall die./ take him and cut him out in little stars...” This astral theme is no accident: Jack/Arthur-as-constellation. The title evokes Camelot, the brief star we wish upon.

Manchester retells the historical origins of the Arthurian story through the ages (1500 years!) and of its accretions through the oral tradition. He paints his constellation of a latter-day Camelot with Kennedy as all aspects of the dream: as Arthur, as Lancelot, as Gwenivere (well, maybe, Marilyn/Jackie), as Excalibur, as a messiah, as martyr, etc. 

He evokes the manuscripts of the pseudo-historians: Gildas, Nennius, Geoffrey, Jesus... Manchester’s thumbnail sketch of social commentator David Brinkley as rational versus emotional prophets, seers and oracles is a base form of druidic function, as are the literary agents and pollsters. 

We have many aspects of Le Morte d’Arthur: shrines & pilgrimage, quests & holy relics, pageantry & idolatry. Interesting to note the tchotchkii industry of Kennedy memorabilia (holy relics) was spawned by prolonged national grief. 

Death of a hero-king (whether or not the facts be true) is good for business. How public works were rechristened worldwide, even a section of Runnymede where the Magna Carta was signed, became a Kennedy shrine. “Once a leader becomes a martyr, transformation naturally follows.” 

 Kennedy is endowed with a nimbus, clothed in raiment so that we have no choice but to look up and see him as a part of the firmament, and identify him as star of the first magnitude.

Manchester begins his essay in typical journalistic fashion—basic reportage— he jousts with personal perspective so that the reader is both inside and outside the text. Through a misted lens, personal and collective memory and fact blur and merge. Not quite yellow journalism, this filmic essay is in the camp of Gonzo (I, myself & I feel, therefore I am) journalism. 

Don’t get me wrong: I loved the piece but it is personal narrative masquerading as factual journalism. (I can hardly believe that this is the same author who wrote so dark a picture of the Dark Ages., but I digress...)

Le Morte d’Arthur, by Sir Thomas Malory, summary

Klar, Celtic Romanticism 170
Summary

LE MORTE D’ARTHUR
by Sir Thomas Malory

Malory’s 1471 version of the story of King Arthur, said to be the first great prose epic to be written in English (I guess Beowulf doesn’t count), is probably the most enduring version of Arthurian legend.

His story follows that of Geoffrey’s but incorporated many motifs of the French Lays. How much is Malory’s own invention, as with Geoffrey’s version, is still under speculation as we don’t know what was still circulating in the oral tradition. 

Said to be written while Malory, a roughish knight and politician of Warwickshire, while he was imprisoned for many civil crimes during the reign of Edward IV, the tale ends with a plea for the prayer of his soul, so, once again, who was his audience? 

Let us look at the motifs: like Geoffrey’s story, this tale focuses on the conception, birth, life, love and death of King Arthur and his knights. A tale of, and for the nobility with adventure, honor, courtly etiquette, chivalry and jousting central to the story—which gives some clue to 14th c. mores and preoccupations. 

Sir Lancelot, a Cú Chulainn figure, is Arthur’s foremost champion. But because of his enduring love for Gwynevere, is impure, he cannot seek the Grail (the Celtic cauldron)—said to be a holy relic brought by Jesus’ father!—only a pure and virtuous knight. 

The only three (pure) white bulls of the Round Table: Sir Gareth, Sir Galahad and the third bull with the black spot (= one sexual adventure) King Pelles. The rest are with blemish. So they find the Grail in the Waste Lands, but since the clergy knew where it was all along, why couldn’t they either help/or get it themselves? 

Does the Grail shrive the knights from their sins or save anybody? Not really. Lancelot repents for his behavior in the end, but it seems to have little to do with the Grail itself. 

Gawain’s revenge (avenging murdered kin is a central motif) upon Lancelot hastens the destruction of King Arthur’s court—with a little help from Sir Mordred, Arthur’s incestuous stepson, who seizes the throne and Gwynevere while Arthur is fighting Lancelot in Brittany. In this blood feud we have the House of Arthur versus the House of Lancelot, in short, we have the War of the Roses in allegorical format with Marcher Lords and the fickle populace switching sides at will.

The role of the ultimate victory and power of the church is a strong story element, much stronger than in Geoffrey’s story, and he, a bishop! The stories of Tristram and the Holy Grail are so allegorical, they seem to be written (or edited) by someone other than Malory—perhaps he was appealing to the clergy? 

Saving souls and repentance play strong roles. The might of the church aside, many of the age-old Celtic motifs are present throughout: the three “F”s (feasting, fighting, and, er, swivving.) 

We have godlike heroes fighting the enemy and in times of peace, each other. We have betrayals, brother killing brother, false identities, incest, magic swords stuck in rocks, feasts, funeral barges, numerology (three days and nights, 15 days, a year and a day, seven years); apple trees, visions, miracles and allegory (seven knights/hermits = the seven deadly sins), 

We have questing beasts, monsters magic wells and rivers where noblewomen ride by on white palfreys, where heroes enter into the otherworld, where battles are fought, where all women are beautiful and are either sorceresses or virtuous. A preoccupation with noble blood, virginity and sex. 

Few commoners mentioned; oblique references to the common soldier, a woodsman, some foresters and hermits but most of these characters seem to have magical powers. As with Geoffrey’s story, Merlin doesn’t play a big role in the story. So many characters are imbued with druidic powers, it’s hard to categorize them. 

Only the clergy can correctly interpret dreams (how did they get this powerful?) Blood magic is a strong element throughout. Naming (or withholding of a name—sometimes with dire consequences—as with Cú Chulainn and Connla ) also prevalent. A virtual crescendo of miracles occur as the clergy take a stronger role toward the heavily moralized end of the story where Lancelot and Gwynevere repent and join monasteries. So many masses are said, I lost count! But God wins in the end.

The History of the Kings of Britain, by Geoffrey of Monmouth, summary

Klar, Celtic Romanticism 170
Summary

THE HISTORY OF THE KINGS OF BRITAIN
by Geoffrey of Monmouth

Whether it be fact or fantasy, Geoffrey’s History is a very readable, gossipy text. Because it is a modern translation from the Latin, it is harder to judge the voice/tone of the text—though Prof. Lewis Thorpe insists he was faithful to the original text—whatever that was.

There were several different texts including a pseudo-Geoffrey text. Geoffrey, who was probably Welsh, claims an earlier text, now lost, for his source material which in 1136, he also claims to have translated into Latin from the British. So we might have a 6 - 11th c. text translated from Welsh/British into Latin in 1136, and then into English in 1966. 

During the 12th c., monks were churning out manuscripts and there already was a tradition of pseudo-historical Latin texts in Britain: Gildas (6th c.), Bede (8th c.) Nennius (9th c), So Geoffrey’s claim is possible. 

Though the text covers 1900 years’ worth of the pseudo-history of British kings, it reminds me of the Irish Lebar Gabala, which is referred to: “Their leader, whose name was Partholoim,” Geoffrey’s dynastic book was meant to be read silently, not aloud after feasts—where everything needs to be repeated—who was his audience? 

If Shakespeare owes much to Geoffrey’s story of King Lear, then Geoffrey owes much to his fellow chroniclers and to Caesar. We have the usual Celtic leitmotifs—battles, single-hand combat, berzerker frenzy, fosterage, revenge, crossed-fealty, broken oaths, treachery, shape-changing. 

We have giants, magic burial stones transported from Ireland, sacred fires, feasts, potlatches, fords and hazel woods, etc. We have new elements of chivalry—though it could be construed that chivalry is merely an extension of Celtic Heroic society. 

Geoffrey’s main characters are the Trojan Brutus (this story stretches credulity but there really were Celts in Asia Minor) who founded and named Britain (“the best of islands”) after himself; his son Kamber who named Kambria/Wales; Brutus’ ancestors, the infamous brothers Belinus and Brennius who sacked Rome (he knows Hellenic writings but not historic dates) who ravage the Franks! 

Cassivelaunus who fights Caesar, and Arthur, who occupies much of the text. Interesting to reread Caesar through a Geoffrey-colored lens. Shades of interpretatio Gaufrido who does wicked things to historical timelines!

Arthur is modeled after Caesar—conquering the Islands, Europe and even Rome. Much of the story is hinged on the prophecies and magic of Merlin and Pallatius, druid winds, etc.; a Druid college is mentioned. 

The Prophecy of Merlin is the weirdest text I’ve read: all those animals—totemic, tribal or kinglists? Merlin disappears after Gorlais’s death and never even meets Arthur! The British are almost always spoken of in a favorable light—though Geoffrey repeatedly reminds us their arrogant and quarrelsome nature works against them—and indeed it eventually is the source of their God-ordained downfall. 

Geoffrey paints the Saxons, Irish, Scots & Picts in a malevolent light—as he does the kings of the East (who were probably Christian!) and of course, evil Mordred. Interesting change of tone with the final chapter on the Saxon as the true inheritors of Britain after it was ravaged by civil wars and plagues—partially due to the introduction of a bad seed? Malgo’s line. 

Geoffrey owes much to Bede here. Interesting to see the doings of Edwin, Cadwallo and Penda fleshed out so. Throughout, the clergy are portrayed in cloying favor—obviously they are of the nobility. Even St Patrick is mentioned. God is wrathful, more akin to the Wheel of Fate than to Reason. 

Once again, this is a story for the nobility, not for the peasant or craftsman. The ultimate insult is that the surviving Britons get demoted to Welshmen.