The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights
by John Steinbeck
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Presents a modernized retelling of Malory's stories of the adventures of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, along with some of the author's letters about the work and his process in writing it.Tags
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Steinbeck's reworking of Malory is a work of love, imbued with the enthusiasm of a child-grown who now gets to play with his favorite toys again. He tells familiar tales, making them more readable while still lacing in advanced vocabulary. I won't lie--I am very critical of Arthurian takes, for much the same reason that I find literary fiction tedious: the men are stupidly violent and much misadventure would be averted if they could keep their bits in their trou.
What I think redeems the tale, in Steinbeck's hand, is that he is keenly aware of the weaknesses of the original tales. My edition of this book is 400 pages, and the last 100 is completely an appendix consisting of Steinbeck's letters to his agent and editor on the topic of his show more laborious research. He describes Arthur as dopey and that across literature, "Only the bad guys can be smart." In particular, I appreciated his note, "Malory doesn't like [women] much unless they are sticks. And dwarfs--there is almost a virality fear here." These were things that stood out to me, too--women are either foul seductresses, or props, or there to be raped or owned. Steinbeck doesn't greatly alter the original material, and it's evident that it irritates him in many regards. I can see the balancing act he was trying to achieve, thanks to the appendix. show less
What I think redeems the tale, in Steinbeck's hand, is that he is keenly aware of the weaknesses of the original tales. My edition of this book is 400 pages, and the last 100 is completely an appendix consisting of Steinbeck's letters to his agent and editor on the topic of his show more laborious research. He describes Arthur as dopey and that across literature, "Only the bad guys can be smart." In particular, I appreciated his note, "Malory doesn't like [women] much unless they are sticks. And dwarfs--there is almost a virality fear here." These were things that stood out to me, too--women are either foul seductresses, or props, or there to be raped or owned. Steinbeck doesn't greatly alter the original material, and it's evident that it irritates him in many regards. I can see the balancing act he was trying to achieve, thanks to the appendix. show less
The Acts of King Arthur and his Noble Knights... by John Steinbeck
What a good book this might have been. The author's intentions were good, and we know his skills were superior. But for some reason, he lost interest in the project, and what was published, nearly a decade after his death, is sad because of its obvious promise.
As a youth, John Steinbeck says in his brief introduction, he was given Sir Thomas Malory's [Le Morte d'Arthur], with its unfamiliar spellings, its ancient and unknown words, and, not least, its stirring adventures. In 1958, as his final novel [The Winter of Our Discontent] was published to only so-so reviews, Steinbeck began his version of the King Arthur tales. After two years, he unaccountably stopped, and his show more editor, Chase Horton, wrote that Steinbeck "did not say why or how he felt blocked, if indeed he was, when he stopped work on it." What we have is Steinbeck's draft, neither edited nor corrected by him.
It is the work of two different writers. Steinbeck the translator presents the stories of Merlin, Uther Pendragon, and Young Arthur, of rival kings, knights loyal and disloyal, of Arthur's half-sister Morgan le Fay. The prose is formal, the pace deliberate, the character portrayals unsatisfying. I never read the Arthurian legend, so the plot with all its details was not simply unfamiliar, it was mind-boggling. Here's what I saw as the essence: Any guy who at least thinks he is a knight suits up in armor, grasps a sword and a lance, mounts a horse, and rides off to have some fun. But everyone he meets either wants to fight to the death or has just lost such a fight and is soon to die. I should have tallied them, for an awful lot of men and women have their heads just lopped off, seldom for good reason. Anyone who can recruit a mob—those guys with the armor, the sword and lance, the horse— can be a king! So the tales feature savagery, buckets of blood, weeping and whining, but, but, with great honor and nobility. Thus, more than half the book is what Steinbeck "translated".
But in the chapters "Gawain, Ewain, and Marhalt" and "The Noble Tale of Sir Lancelot of the Lake", Steinbeck the novelist takes control. These chapters are so much better, so engaging, seasoned with warmth and humor, passages of extended dialogue. Women flourish, demonstrating intelligence, strength, sense, independence. In the first of these chapters, the three knights named in the chapter title set off together on a year-long quest. At a fork in the road, where three damsels wait, each knight chooses one of the three, then departs with her on his own quest. Most entertaining to me was Sir Ewain's adventure. The damsel he's chosen is the oldest and wisest and most experienced. As Lyne, for that's her name, leads Ewain away from the others, she firmly quashes the notion that she's going to be easy.
blockquote
"Lady—there must be adventures nearby," Ewain said.
"Adventures? Oh, yes, adventures. We will see...I willed you to choose me, and you did—you did." Her voice was shrilly gay.
"Did you love me so quickly, lady?"
..."You are Ewain, son of Morgan le Fay, nephew of the king. Love you?" She laughed. "No, I judged you among the others. Marhalt, a good, dependable knight, a superb fighter, and might be great except that he is more good than great. But Marhalt is fixed. Nothing will change in him. Gawain? A temperament, a handsome ugly bachelor who feeds upon himself like those lizards who consume their tails…"
"These are tried knights, my lady Lyne. Why did you choose me?"
"For that very reason. You are not tried and therefore are not fixed. Your knighthood came to you through being the nephew to the king, not as a prize for battle...Because you have not perfected your faults, young sir. You are well made but not hardened. I watched you move—and you use your whole body well as a natural endowment. I have long waited for such material as you…Do you find it unseemly for a lady of my age to go adventuring?"
"I find it unusual, ma'am."
"I will tell you," she said, "and then you must not wonder more or ever ask me again. A little girl, hating embroidery, I watched the young boys practicing...I was a better rider than they, a better hunter...I knew I must forgo knighthood. And bitterly I watched jousting and tournaments. I saw where men made mistakes and were too stupid to correct them. My mind was tuned to fighting, but good fighting; not the clumsy ceremony of carving up bodies like lumps of meat….
end blockquote
Ewain's adventure gives way to a course of instruction and training, learning the skills, the mindset, the close and thoughtful observation that endow a true knight. And we marvel as these lessons are drilled into him by–gasp!—a woman.
Steinbeck's failure to carry through, to revise the merely translated chapters and to appraise and retell Malory's remaining tales is a loss for us. Yes, yes; by all means read what he wrote. For me the book merits a "good plus." Five chapters "ok-to-good," two chapters "very good plus." show less
What a good book this might have been. The author's intentions were good, and we know his skills were superior. But for some reason, he lost interest in the project, and what was published, nearly a decade after his death, is sad because of its obvious promise.
As a youth, John Steinbeck says in his brief introduction, he was given Sir Thomas Malory's [Le Morte d'Arthur], with its unfamiliar spellings, its ancient and unknown words, and, not least, its stirring adventures. In 1958, as his final novel [The Winter of Our Discontent] was published to only so-so reviews, Steinbeck began his version of the King Arthur tales. After two years, he unaccountably stopped, and his show more editor, Chase Horton, wrote that Steinbeck "did not say why or how he felt blocked, if indeed he was, when he stopped work on it." What we have is Steinbeck's draft, neither edited nor corrected by him.
It is the work of two different writers. Steinbeck the translator presents the stories of Merlin, Uther Pendragon, and Young Arthur, of rival kings, knights loyal and disloyal, of Arthur's half-sister Morgan le Fay. The prose is formal, the pace deliberate, the character portrayals unsatisfying. I never read the Arthurian legend, so the plot with all its details was not simply unfamiliar, it was mind-boggling. Here's what I saw as the essence: Any guy who at least thinks he is a knight suits up in armor, grasps a sword and a lance, mounts a horse, and rides off to have some fun. But everyone he meets either wants to fight to the death or has just lost such a fight and is soon to die. I should have tallied them, for an awful lot of men and women have their heads just lopped off, seldom for good reason. Anyone who can recruit a mob—those guys with the armor, the sword and lance, the horse— can be a king! So the tales feature savagery, buckets of blood, weeping and whining, but, but, with great honor and nobility. Thus, more than half the book is what Steinbeck "translated".
But in the chapters "Gawain, Ewain, and Marhalt" and "The Noble Tale of Sir Lancelot of the Lake", Steinbeck the novelist takes control. These chapters are so much better, so engaging, seasoned with warmth and humor, passages of extended dialogue. Women flourish, demonstrating intelligence, strength, sense, independence. In the first of these chapters, the three knights named in the chapter title set off together on a year-long quest. At a fork in the road, where three damsels wait, each knight chooses one of the three, then departs with her on his own quest. Most entertaining to me was Sir Ewain's adventure. The damsel he's chosen is the oldest and wisest and most experienced. As Lyne, for that's her name, leads Ewain away from the others, she firmly quashes the notion that she's going to be easy.
blockquote
"Lady—there must be adventures nearby," Ewain said.
"Adventures? Oh, yes, adventures. We will see...I willed you to choose me, and you did—you did." Her voice was shrilly gay.
"Did you love me so quickly, lady?"
..."You are Ewain, son of Morgan le Fay, nephew of the king. Love you?" She laughed. "No, I judged you among the others. Marhalt, a good, dependable knight, a superb fighter, and might be great except that he is more good than great. But Marhalt is fixed. Nothing will change in him. Gawain? A temperament, a handsome ugly bachelor who feeds upon himself like those lizards who consume their tails…"
"These are tried knights, my lady Lyne. Why did you choose me?"
"For that very reason. You are not tried and therefore are not fixed. Your knighthood came to you through being the nephew to the king, not as a prize for battle...Because you have not perfected your faults, young sir. You are well made but not hardened. I watched you move—and you use your whole body well as a natural endowment. I have long waited for such material as you…Do you find it unseemly for a lady of my age to go adventuring?"
"I find it unusual, ma'am."
"I will tell you," she said, "and then you must not wonder more or ever ask me again. A little girl, hating embroidery, I watched the young boys practicing...I was a better rider than they, a better hunter...I knew I must forgo knighthood. And bitterly I watched jousting and tournaments. I saw where men made mistakes and were too stupid to correct them. My mind was tuned to fighting, but good fighting; not the clumsy ceremony of carving up bodies like lumps of meat….
end blockquote
Ewain's adventure gives way to a course of instruction and training, learning the skills, the mindset, the close and thoughtful observation that endow a true knight. And we marvel as these lessons are drilled into him by–gasp!—a woman.
Steinbeck's failure to carry through, to revise the merely translated chapters and to appraise and retell Malory's remaining tales is a loss for us. Yes, yes; by all means read what he wrote. For me the book merits a "good plus." Five chapters "ok-to-good," two chapters "very good plus." show less
A fascinating bit of literary history and a enjoyable bit of fantasy reading. There's a brief introduction by Steinbeck and a lengthy set of letters he wrote to his editor and assistant while developing this book. They make it clear what a labor of love this retelling of Malory's King Arthur was for Steinbeck. Malory, despite or perhaps because of its difficult language and morally mixed characters, was the first book Steinbeck as a young reader fell in love with. Though it's not mentioned in the letters, apparently some reviewers found the characters and actions in Steinbeck's early novel Tortilla Flats very reminiscent of the tales of the knights of the Round Table. Steinbeck expended an enormous amount of time and effort reading and show more traveling to research the entire history of the King Arthur legend and the historical times and geography in which Malory lived.
So how is the story? For one, it's unfinished. From the letters, it appears to be most of what would have been the first half of a two-volume work, dealing with Uther and Arthur, Merlin, Morgan LeFaye, the origin of the Round Table, various quests, ending with the first quest of Lancelot. The tale of Uther and Arthur is slow going. It reads like a direct translation, a term Steinbeck uses repeatedly for what he intended to do, of Malory. It's a string of events, mostly battles, jousts, or sword fights, with paragraphs commonly beginning with "And ..." or "Then ...", but no attempt at modern characterization or reflection. The story of Merlin follows in very similar style, but from that point on, the writing begins to open up so that by the time we reach The Death of Merlin we've arrived at modern storytelling. My favorite chapter is the three quests of Gawain, Ewain, and Malhort, a cleverly constructed mix of humor and observation. I was strongly reminded of Peter S. Beagle -- well-told tales that didn't simplify the ambiguities of human choices. From the letters, this opening up was meant to mirror how Malory's writing progressed over the course of his book.
Highly recommended. show less
So how is the story? For one, it's unfinished. From the letters, it appears to be most of what would have been the first half of a two-volume work, dealing with Uther and Arthur, Merlin, Morgan LeFaye, the origin of the Round Table, various quests, ending with the first quest of Lancelot. The tale of Uther and Arthur is slow going. It reads like a direct translation, a term Steinbeck uses repeatedly for what he intended to do, of Malory. It's a string of events, mostly battles, jousts, or sword fights, with paragraphs commonly beginning with "And ..." or "Then ...", but no attempt at modern characterization or reflection. The story of Merlin follows in very similar style, but from that point on, the writing begins to open up so that by the time we reach The Death of Merlin we've arrived at modern storytelling. My favorite chapter is the three quests of Gawain, Ewain, and Malhort, a cleverly constructed mix of humor and observation. I was strongly reminded of Peter S. Beagle -- well-told tales that didn't simplify the ambiguities of human choices. From the letters, this opening up was meant to mirror how Malory's writing progressed over the course of his book.
Highly recommended. show less
Steinbeck brings pretty much nothing fresh -- except his talent at telling stories directly -- to Arthurian legend. And his talent at telling stories directly is actually a problem; half of the pleasure of these legends are in the trappings, the environment, and Steinbeck strips that clean away.
Not to mention that once I stop basking in the fantasy aspects of it, I start wanting to, well, punch people in the face. Which does not make me happy; I love these stories! I do not want to punch them in the face! Except -- in a world where women have no agency (and no dialogue), and men are not extraordinary, I am no longer engaged.
Not to mention that once I stop basking in the fantasy aspects of it, I start wanting to, well, punch people in the face. Which does not make me happy; I love these stories! I do not want to punch them in the face! Except -- in a world where women have no agency (and no dialogue), and men are not extraordinary, I am no longer engaged.
Is it wrong that this was the first book by Steinbeck that I’ve read? Certainly it is the kind of book one probably wouldn’t have even expected this author to have written. Known for his brooding meditations on the harsh life of the American experience in the mid-20th century, a translation/re-working of Malory’s stories about King Arthur and his knights certainly don’t seem like an obvious fit for Steinbeck. Reading through the letters written by the author himself in the appendix to this volume, however, makes it abundantly clear that the project was one that was near and dear to the author’s heart, into which he poured a significant amount of time & effort, and which he himself saw as possibly filling the role of crowning show more achievement of his work. I will here go on record with many other reviewers on Goodreads and state that it is a real shame that, for some unknown reason, Steinbeck never finished his work on this, though even the fragment he left us with is a significant work and one of the better treatments of the Matter of Britain I’ve read.
I must first admit that I found myself becoming slightly bored with the first third or so of the text. True to his words in the introduction Steinbeck hews very closely to his source text, Malory’s Le Morte D’Arthur, and generally follows his plan of “leaving out nothing and adding nothing…since in no sense do I wish to rewrite Malory …” in the first four tales: Merlin, The Knight with the Two Swords, The Wedding of King Arthur, and The Death of Merlin. I generally have little use for ‘translations’ of Malory since I don’t really see the point; the Middle English he uses isn’t really that difficult for a modern reader to approach and I generally find that ‘modernizing’ the language simply takes the reader a further step from the text without adding anything of use. Happily for us Steinbeck seems to have taken advice from his editors to heart and in the subsequent tales really starts making the material his own while still staying true to the spirit of Malory. Indeed, from the very first sentence of Morgan le Fay one can see Steinbeck breaking new ground and not simply aping his master. From here on we are treated to a really excellent interpretation of the tales that seeks to investigate the psychology of these figures from myth without reducing them to little more than modern people in medieval drag or diminishing the epic scope of the tales.
Arthur largely remains the peripheral figure he generally has to be for these tales, the enigmatic centre around which all of the other characters revolve and from whom they draw their glory. Despite this Steinbeck does attempt to invest the tragic king with some elements of individuality and provides one or two tantalizing glimpses of the man underneath the myth. We see the king’s early dissatisfaction with the trials of kingship and disappointment in the need to fight rebellion:
I found myself noticing things here that I had missed or glossed over from my initial reading of Malory such as the incongruous nature of the various enchantresses generally known to be “the damsels of the Lady of the Lake and schooled in wonders.” They range from the damsel who gave to Arthur his enchanted sword Excalibur (the same maiden killed by Sir Balin for ostensibly having had his own mother burned at the stake) to the Lady Nyneve, the bane of Merlin who, despite her role in deceiving the besotted old enchanter, stealing his knowledge, and leaving him buried alive is not portrayed as evil. She does this act to gain power, but learns that with great power comes great responsibility. In the end she seems to take on Merlin’s role as protector of the realm, though in a somewhat lessened capacity, and gets her own reward for being true to the lonely path of power that accepts responsibility: the love of the good knight Pelleas. Finally there are also the four queens (including Morgan le Fay) who capture Lancelot and put him to the test with their illusory blandishments. They may or may not be members of this same circle of enchantresses, but they equally represent part of the same intriguing puzzle: just what are they? Members of a school for magic? A group of proto-feminists looking for a way to power in a man's world? Something of both or neither? Some seem to be evil, working deeds of mischance and violence, others good, though often they are no less violent in this world of martial law and divine retribution. Perhaps it’s most appropriate to say that the true test comes in that some work for their own selfish interests while others work for the common good.
It was also refreshing to see the varied characterization of the questing knights (and their three fascinating ladies) in the tale Gawain, Ewain, and Marhalt. Indeed, the entire section provides Steinbeck with interesting character studies, not to mention much fodder for his social and personal concerns. Marhalt rocks and it was very nice to see a knight of Arthur’s court so clear-headed and competent without vainglory…a rare thing. He is a man with both skill and self-knowledge, the quintessential man of experience, and it’s a bit sad to know that his fate in the cycle is to be killed by that jack-ass Tristan (though Steinbeck does not himself tell this episode). The training of young Ewain (in many ways the opposite of Marhalt) by his own Lady was equally wonderful and showed how far Steinbeck had come: much of this tale seems to have been created by Steinbeck himself and yet it in no way felt like he was departing from the spirit of Malory specifically or the Arthurian tales in general.
The final entry The Noble Tale of Sir Lancelot of the Lake shows Steinbeck truly coming into his own. It becomes obvious here (and is confirmed by statements made by Steinbeck in the letters found in the appendix) that Lancelot was the true centre of Steinbeck’s tale and was the character through whom he hoped to develop the real through-line of his thoughts on the Arthurian corpus. Lancelot gave the author everything he needed to work through the concepts of human fallibility mixed with nearly superhuman stature. The entire theme of the greatest good often leading to the greatest evil could play out in full measure with all of its varied nuances with Lancelot. From the description of his life as a young boy, hearing Merlin’s prophecy regarding his future peerless knighthood and subsequent desire to fulfill it, to the discontent of a man who has honed himself to perfection and is looking for it in an imperfect and jaded world we really begin to get a glimmer of the power Lancelot held as a character for Steinbeck and the heights the author might have achieved had he finished his work. Alas such was not to be and we are thus left with only a fragment of what might have been so much more. Still a fragment is far preferable to nothing at all.
I can’t close without adding that the letters in the appendix were an unexpectedly intriguing look into the mind of both Steinbeck the man and Steinbeck the writer. His complete love for the Arthurian material (and especially his deeply felt personal connection to Malory as a writer)and single-minded devotion to his research came as something of a surprise to me and it was equally fascinating to get a glimpse of his personal ruminations on the writing process. In addition to these writerly concerns we get to see Steinbeck the man wrestling with his own fears and feelings of inadequacy in a work which he thought “should be the best work of my life and the most satisfying” and which he even felt contained “the best prose [he had] ever written.” show less
I must first admit that I found myself becoming slightly bored with the first third or so of the text. True to his words in the introduction Steinbeck hews very closely to his source text, Malory’s Le Morte D’Arthur, and generally follows his plan of “leaving out nothing and adding nothing…since in no sense do I wish to rewrite Malory …” in the first four tales: Merlin, The Knight with the Two Swords, The Wedding of King Arthur, and The Death of Merlin. I generally have little use for ‘translations’ of Malory since I don’t really see the point; the Middle English he uses isn’t really that difficult for a modern reader to approach and I generally find that ‘modernizing’ the language simply takes the reader a further step from the text without adding anything of use. Happily for us Steinbeck seems to have taken advice from his editors to heart and in the subsequent tales really starts making the material his own while still staying true to the spirit of Malory. Indeed, from the very first sentence of Morgan le Fay one can see Steinbeck breaking new ground and not simply aping his master. From here on we are treated to a really excellent interpretation of the tales that seeks to investigate the psychology of these figures from myth without reducing them to little more than modern people in medieval drag or diminishing the epic scope of the tales.
Arthur largely remains the peripheral figure he generally has to be for these tales, the enigmatic centre around which all of the other characters revolve and from whom they draw their glory. Despite this Steinbeck does attempt to invest the tragic king with some elements of individuality and provides one or two tantalizing glimpses of the man underneath the myth. We see the king’s early dissatisfaction with the trials of kingship and disappointment in the need to fight rebellion:
Soon after this, Arthur, wearied with campaigns and governing and sick of the dark, deep-walled rooms of castles, ordered his pavilion set up in a green meadow outside the walls where he might rest and recover his strength in the quiet and the sweet air.We see his growth in wisdom as a leader of men:
Then Arthur learned, as all leaders are astonished to learn, that peace, not war, is the destroyer of men; tranquillity rather than danger is the mother of cowardice, and not need but plenty brings apprehension and unease. Finally he found that the longed-for peace, so bitterly achieved, created more bitterness than ever did the anguish of achieving it.Indeed it is this very discontent that prompts Arthur and Guinevere, in Steinbeck’s version of the tales, to ‘trick’ Lancelot into setting an example for the other knights by adopting the lifestyle of the quest, an action that will prove to be both the greatest glory and the greatest sorrow of Arthur’s court. Throughout the work are strewn nuggets of wisdom, often coming from the mouth of Merlin in the earlier stories, and Steinbeck uses these tales of chivalry as an opportunity to meditate on the human condition. Thus we have:
”Somewhere in the world there is defeat for everyone. Some are destroyed by defeat, and some made small and mean by victory. Greatness lives in one who triumphs equally over defeat and victory.”and
”You cannot know a venture from its beginning,” Merlin said. “Greatness is born little. Do not dishonor your feast by ignoring what comes to it. Such is the law of quest.”
I found myself noticing things here that I had missed or glossed over from my initial reading of Malory such as the incongruous nature of the various enchantresses generally known to be “the damsels of the Lady of the Lake and schooled in wonders.” They range from the damsel who gave to Arthur his enchanted sword Excalibur (the same maiden killed by Sir Balin for ostensibly having had his own mother burned at the stake) to the Lady Nyneve, the bane of Merlin who, despite her role in deceiving the besotted old enchanter, stealing his knowledge, and leaving him buried alive is not portrayed as evil. She does this act to gain power, but learns that with great power comes great responsibility. In the end she seems to take on Merlin’s role as protector of the realm, though in a somewhat lessened capacity, and gets her own reward for being true to the lonely path of power that accepts responsibility: the love of the good knight Pelleas. Finally there are also the four queens (including Morgan le Fay) who capture Lancelot and put him to the test with their illusory blandishments. They may or may not be members of this same circle of enchantresses, but they equally represent part of the same intriguing puzzle: just what are they? Members of a school for magic? A group of proto-feminists looking for a way to power in a man's world? Something of both or neither? Some seem to be evil, working deeds of mischance and violence, others good, though often they are no less violent in this world of martial law and divine retribution. Perhaps it’s most appropriate to say that the true test comes in that some work for their own selfish interests while others work for the common good.
It was also refreshing to see the varied characterization of the questing knights (and their three fascinating ladies) in the tale Gawain, Ewain, and Marhalt. Indeed, the entire section provides Steinbeck with interesting character studies, not to mention much fodder for his social and personal concerns. Marhalt rocks and it was very nice to see a knight of Arthur’s court so clear-headed and competent without vainglory…a rare thing. He is a man with both skill and self-knowledge, the quintessential man of experience, and it’s a bit sad to know that his fate in the cycle is to be killed by that jack-ass Tristan (though Steinbeck does not himself tell this episode). The training of young Ewain (in many ways the opposite of Marhalt) by his own Lady was equally wonderful and showed how far Steinbeck had come: much of this tale seems to have been created by Steinbeck himself and yet it in no way felt like he was departing from the spirit of Malory specifically or the Arthurian tales in general.
The final entry The Noble Tale of Sir Lancelot of the Lake shows Steinbeck truly coming into his own. It becomes obvious here (and is confirmed by statements made by Steinbeck in the letters found in the appendix) that Lancelot was the true centre of Steinbeck’s tale and was the character through whom he hoped to develop the real through-line of his thoughts on the Arthurian corpus. Lancelot gave the author everything he needed to work through the concepts of human fallibility mixed with nearly superhuman stature. The entire theme of the greatest good often leading to the greatest evil could play out in full measure with all of its varied nuances with Lancelot. From the description of his life as a young boy, hearing Merlin’s prophecy regarding his future peerless knighthood and subsequent desire to fulfill it, to the discontent of a man who has honed himself to perfection and is looking for it in an imperfect and jaded world we really begin to get a glimmer of the power Lancelot held as a character for Steinbeck and the heights the author might have achieved had he finished his work. Alas such was not to be and we are thus left with only a fragment of what might have been so much more. Still a fragment is far preferable to nothing at all.
I can’t close without adding that the letters in the appendix were an unexpectedly intriguing look into the mind of both Steinbeck the man and Steinbeck the writer. His complete love for the Arthurian material (and especially his deeply felt personal connection to Malory as a writer)and single-minded devotion to his research came as something of a surprise to me and it was equally fascinating to get a glimpse of his personal ruminations on the writing process. In addition to these writerly concerns we get to see Steinbeck the man wrestling with his own fears and feelings of inadequacy in a work which he thought “should be the best work of my life and the most satisfying” and which he even felt contained “the best prose [he had] ever written.” show less
Steinbeck's original intention was to translate Malory's "Morte d'Arthur" for a modern audience. He did this very literally in the first few chapters, which are dull. In the last two chapters, he finally began infusing his own voice into the story and it greatly improves. It's a shame that Steinbeck never finished this translation, or had the opportunity to go back and revise his original chapters.
Although it lacks the spark and excitement of other versions of the Arthur legends (notably T.H. White's), this is still a good, solid, and very readable book. Steinbeck follows Malory's "Morte d'Arthur" fairly closely, while at the same time updating the language and tightening the unwieldy plot structure a bit. It drags slightly at times, which is perhaps inevitable, but overall Steinbeck manages to keep the story going smoothly. For readers looking for a straightforward, accessible version of the legends, this is a good place to start.
At least as interesting as the novel itself were the notes at the end--Steinbeck's letters to his literary agent and to his friend Chase Horton, who prepared the unfinished manuscript for publication. show more These letters provided what I found to be a fascinating insight into Steinbeck's mind and the writing process, as the project grows and alters as he works on it. What he had first intended to be simply a translation takes on a life of its own. show less
At least as interesting as the novel itself were the notes at the end--Steinbeck's letters to his literary agent and to his friend Chase Horton, who prepared the unfinished manuscript for publication. show more These letters provided what I found to be a fascinating insight into Steinbeck's mind and the writing process, as the project grows and alters as he works on it. What he had first intended to be simply a translation takes on a life of its own. show less
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ThingScore 83
The book must be evaluated more as Steinbeckiana than as Arthuriana, not so much for its narrative foibles as because the project remained so fragmentary--including neither the Grail quest, the book of Launcelot and Guinevere, nor the Morte Arthur. A complete Arthurian cycle from Steinbeck would have been good to have. The present version remains an erratically charming curiosity.
added by Lemeritus
"Steinbeck's tales could bring readers of all ages close to Arthurian times."
added by wademlee
"Enchantment...witchcraft...Steinbeck diligently pursues the task of bringing to life a new look at Arthur and the Round Table Knights."
added by wademlee
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In recent years Steinbeck has been elevated to a more prominent status among American writers of his generation. If not quite at the world-class artistic level of a Hemingway or a Faulkner, he is nonetheless read very widely throughout the world by readers of all ages who consider him one of the most "American" of writers. Born in Salinas County, show more California on February 27, 1902, Steinbeck was of German-Irish parentage. After four years as a special student at Stanford University, he went to New York, where he worked as a reporter and as a hod carrier. Returning to California, he devoted himself to writing, with little success; his first three books sold fewer than 3,000 copies. Tortilla Flat (1935), dealing with the paisanos, California Mexicans whose ancestors settled in the country 200 years ago, established his reputation. In Dubious Battle (1936), a labor novel of a strike and strike-breaking, won the gold medal of the Commonwealth Club of California. Of Mice and Men (1937), a long short story that turns upon a melodramatic incident in the tragic friendship of two farm hands, written almost entirely in dialogue, was an experiment and was dramatized in the year of its publication, winning the New York Drama Critics Circle Award. It brought him fame. Out of a series of articles that he wrote about the transient labor camps in California came the inspiration for his greatest book, The Grapes of Wrath (1939), the odyssey of the Joad family, dispossessed of their farm in the Dust Bowl and seeking a new home, only to be driven on from camp to camp. The fiction is punctuated at intervals by the author's voice explaining this new sociological problem of homelessness, unemployment, and displacement. As the American novel "of the season, probably the year, possibly the decade," it won the Pulitzer Prize in 1940. It roused America and won a broad readership by the unusual simplicity and tenderness with which Steinbeck treated social questions. Even today, The Grapes of Wrath remains alive as a vivid account of believable human characters seen in symbolic and universal terms as well as in geographically and historically specific ones. Ma Joad is one of the most memorable characters in twentieth-century American fiction. It is her courage that sustains the family. Steinbeck's best and most ambitious novel after The Grapes of Wrath is East of Eden (1952), a saga of two American families in California from before the Civil War through World War I. Cannery Row (1945), The Wayward Bus (1947), and Sweet Thursday (1955) are lighter works that find Steinbeck returning to the lighthearted tone of Tortilla Flat as he recounts picaresque adventures of modern-day picaros. The Winter of Our Discontent (1961) struck some reviewers as being appropriately titled because of its despairing treatment of humanity's fall from grace in a wasteland world where money is king. Steinbeck also wrote important nonfiction, including Russian Journal (1948) in collaboration with the photographer Robert Capa; Once There Was a War (1958) and America and Americans (1966), which features pictures by 55 leading photographers and a 70-page essay by Steinbeck. His interest in marine biology led to two books primarily about sea life, Sea of Cortez (1941) (with Edward F. Ricketts) and The Log from the Sea of Cortez (1951). Travels with Charley (1962) is an engaging account of his journey of rediscovery of America, which took him through approximately 40 states. Steinbeck was married three times and died in New York City on December 20, 1968 of heart disease and congestive heart failure. He was 66, and had been a life-long smoker. (Bowker Author Biography) show less
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Common Knowledge
- Canonical title*
- Kung Arthur och hans ädla riddare
- Original title
- The acts of King Arthur and his noble knights : from the Winchester manuscripts of Thomas Malory and other sources
- Original publication date
- 1976
- People/Characters
- King Arthur; Guinevere; Lancelot du Lac; Merlin
- Important places
- Camelot
- Important events
- Middle Ages
- Dedication
- When I was nine, I took siege with King Arthur's fellowship of knights most proud and worshipful as any alive.
In those days there was a great lack of hardy and noble-hearted squires to bear shield and sword, to buc... (show all)kle harness, and to succor wounded knights.
Then it chanced that squire-like duties fell to my sister for six year, who for gentle prowess had no peer living.
It sometimes happens in sadness and piety that faithful service is not appreciated, so my fair and loyal sister remained unrecognized as squire.
Wherefore this day I make amends within my power and raise her to knighthood and give her praise.
And from this hour she shall be called Sir Marie Steinbeck of Salinas Valley.
God give her worship without peril.
John Steinbeck of Monterey, Knight - First words
- When Uther Pendragon was king of England his vassal, the Duke of Cornwall, was reported to have committed acts of war against the land.
- Last words
- (Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)And he was weeping bitterly.
- Original language
- English
- Canonical DDC/MDS
- 823.2; 398.20941
- Canonical LCC
- PR2043
*Some information comes from Common Knowledge in other languages. Click "Edit" for more information.
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- ISBNs
- 63
- ASINs
- 51