Sunday, 18 November 2012 03:15 pm
Book Review: The Once and Future King
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deckardcanineMy initial interest in T.H. White's classic stemmed primarily from its inclusion in X2: X-Men United as course material. The filmmakers probably intended it only to foreshadow a certain character returning from the dead, tho Professor Xavier is somewhat like King Arthur in his struggle for an ideal realm.
I. The Sword in the Stone. I have no doubt that Disney writers took many cues from here; as a fan of the movie by the same title, I appreciated it. Of course, they made it a bit more of a Cinderella story: In the original, Kay is only two years older than "the Wart" and not half as mean to him, nor is Sir Ector half as strict. They also beefed up the part of Archimedes, removed the politics from the Wart's animal tours (was communism even a concept in the Middle Ages?), and invented Madam Mimm for a sillier witch than Morgan le Fay.
The TOaFK version remains quite amusing. I don't mind the lack of a full explanation of how Merlin can age backwards and still carry a conversation, nor how the non-wizards pretty much take him in stride. To my surprise, a close amount of humor comes from Sir Pellinore -- called King Pellinore here despite a complete lack of servants or anything else regal. You have to learn not to feel sorry for him, because he tends to bring it on himself.
The two most prominent praisers on the cover of this edition are Lev Grossman and Ursula K. Le Guin. I guess I haven't read enough of the latter to see White's influence on her, but Grossman's The Magicians kept coming to my head as I read, starting with the obscure vocabulary. Actually, White's much harder, partly for being a Brit in the '20s ("ratings" are ensigns?) and partly for sometimes going archaic on purpose. Some words aren't even in my parents' old two-volume Oxford dictionary, which contains so many rare words that it came with a magnifying glass. Eventually I gave up and just glided over the unfamiliar terms.
II. The Queen of Air and Darkness. The next commonality with Grossman is a time skip that leaves me thinking, "Hey, we missed something interesting!" White has more of an excuse, since the full story spans decades and what he does retain is enough of an epic (600+ dense pages in this edition), but to see Arthur already married to a woman we hadn't heard of before? Sometimes White says to read Le morte d'Arthur for more details. I'm not that curious.
Part II feels less centralized than the other parts. It alternates among Queen Morgause biding her time for vengeance, her four sons fantasizing about what they'll do in adulthood, hapless attempts to stop Pellinore from being a miserable fool, and Arthur giving a shaky start to the revolutionary idea of Camelot. Nothing especially important happens until near the end of this part -- after which there is basically no more humor to be found.
By now I deduced that Alan Jay Lerner took few if any cues from White in writing Camelot. The timeline, more than anything else, differs on many key points, understandably condensing the runtime. Besides, White's Lancelot is both humble and well aware of his oft-noted ugly face, so he'd never claim physical perfection no matter how many knights he defeated.
III. The Ill-Made Knight. How about that: The longest part dwells primarily on Lancelot and Guenever (that's how White spells it), pushing Arthur out of the limelight for about half the novel all told. I questioned White's priorities in devoting so much time to their on-and-off affair and then casually mentioning a huge past event. Nevertheless, you could say that this part is when the writing really shines: The characters are more emotionally complex than I've seen...possibly anywhere else.
Part III also completes the connection to Grossman with its anti-escapism. Even at its peak, Camelot is far from idyllic, because humans are still human. A few seem godly enough to realize the ideal, but others tend to regard their steadfast ethics as a nuisance. I nearly forgot that the story is a fantasy, as cold, hard realities consistently ensue.
IV. The Candle in the Wind. Magnificent literal and figurative bastard Mordred finally gets a big role, making even the warped Agravaine look scrupulous by comparison. I sympathized with Mordred more than I expected: Given his background, I hardly blame him for seeing the worst in champions of virtue. And until he goes slightly mad, he operates within the bounds of the law.
The ending, despite a rather close resemblance to the end of Camelot, is a preachy downer. The narrator may long for Arthur's prophesied return, but should we assume he'd do any better at reining in savagery than before?
At my mom's suggestion, I'm picking up Gravediggers: Mountain of Bones by Christopher Krovatin. Ordinarily I wouldn't go for a young-adult zombie story, but I knew the author from camp as a kid and my sister used to date him.
I. The Sword in the Stone. I have no doubt that Disney writers took many cues from here; as a fan of the movie by the same title, I appreciated it. Of course, they made it a bit more of a Cinderella story: In the original, Kay is only two years older than "the Wart" and not half as mean to him, nor is Sir Ector half as strict. They also beefed up the part of Archimedes, removed the politics from the Wart's animal tours (was communism even a concept in the Middle Ages?), and invented Madam Mimm for a sillier witch than Morgan le Fay.
The TOaFK version remains quite amusing. I don't mind the lack of a full explanation of how Merlin can age backwards and still carry a conversation, nor how the non-wizards pretty much take him in stride. To my surprise, a close amount of humor comes from Sir Pellinore -- called King Pellinore here despite a complete lack of servants or anything else regal. You have to learn not to feel sorry for him, because he tends to bring it on himself.
The two most prominent praisers on the cover of this edition are Lev Grossman and Ursula K. Le Guin. I guess I haven't read enough of the latter to see White's influence on her, but Grossman's The Magicians kept coming to my head as I read, starting with the obscure vocabulary. Actually, White's much harder, partly for being a Brit in the '20s ("ratings" are ensigns?) and partly for sometimes going archaic on purpose. Some words aren't even in my parents' old two-volume Oxford dictionary, which contains so many rare words that it came with a magnifying glass. Eventually I gave up and just glided over the unfamiliar terms.
II. The Queen of Air and Darkness. The next commonality with Grossman is a time skip that leaves me thinking, "Hey, we missed something interesting!" White has more of an excuse, since the full story spans decades and what he does retain is enough of an epic (600+ dense pages in this edition), but to see Arthur already married to a woman we hadn't heard of before? Sometimes White says to read Le morte d'Arthur for more details. I'm not that curious.
Part II feels less centralized than the other parts. It alternates among Queen Morgause biding her time for vengeance, her four sons fantasizing about what they'll do in adulthood, hapless attempts to stop Pellinore from being a miserable fool, and Arthur giving a shaky start to the revolutionary idea of Camelot. Nothing especially important happens until near the end of this part -- after which there is basically no more humor to be found.
By now I deduced that Alan Jay Lerner took few if any cues from White in writing Camelot. The timeline, more than anything else, differs on many key points, understandably condensing the runtime. Besides, White's Lancelot is both humble and well aware of his oft-noted ugly face, so he'd never claim physical perfection no matter how many knights he defeated.
III. The Ill-Made Knight. How about that: The longest part dwells primarily on Lancelot and Guenever (that's how White spells it), pushing Arthur out of the limelight for about half the novel all told. I questioned White's priorities in devoting so much time to their on-and-off affair and then casually mentioning a huge past event. Nevertheless, you could say that this part is when the writing really shines: The characters are more emotionally complex than I've seen...possibly anywhere else.
Part III also completes the connection to Grossman with its anti-escapism. Even at its peak, Camelot is far from idyllic, because humans are still human. A few seem godly enough to realize the ideal, but others tend to regard their steadfast ethics as a nuisance. I nearly forgot that the story is a fantasy, as cold, hard realities consistently ensue.
IV. The Candle in the Wind. Magnificent literal and figurative bastard Mordred finally gets a big role, making even the warped Agravaine look scrupulous by comparison. I sympathized with Mordred more than I expected: Given his background, I hardly blame him for seeing the worst in champions of virtue. And until he goes slightly mad, he operates within the bounds of the law.
The ending, despite a rather close resemblance to the end of Camelot, is a preachy downer. The narrator may long for Arthur's prophesied return, but should we assume he'd do any better at reining in savagery than before?
At my mom's suggestion, I'm picking up Gravediggers: Mountain of Bones by Christopher Krovatin. Ordinarily I wouldn't go for a young-adult zombie story, but I knew the author from camp as a kid and my sister used to date him.