A review of the The Pendragon Cycle by Stephen R. Lawhead

Title: The Pendragon Cycle (comprised of)

Taliesin

Merlin

Arthur

[Pendragon]

[Grail]

[Avallon]

Author: Stephen R. Lawhead

Publisher: AvoNova/Avaon Books (Originally published with the cooperation of Good News Publishers, which can give you a clue about content.)

Cover art: The covers shown here are from the second printing... we prefer the earlier versions (by Mike Rosen) of the portrait of the hero against a landscape. [Of some amusement, the picture of Taliesin on the first book of the series is the portrait of Stephen R. Lawhead himself if anyone cares to compare.]

Length: 1,377 pages total in mass-market paperback (this ignores the later three additions).

Rating: 5 out of 7 (For the idealist and the Christian, these are deeply affecting books written with skill, sincerity, and scholarship; a necessary read for anyone delving deeply in to Arthuriana).

"Pastor's Picks:

Mere Christianity -C.S. Lewis

What's so Amazing About Grace -Phillip Yancey

Lord of the Rings Trilogy -J.R.R. Tolkien

The Pendragon Cycle -S.R. Lawhead"

--Seeing Christ in Art & Literature, Memorial Baptist Church (mbcfdl.com)

Check out the company of authors the Lawhead keeps when he's listed with other works noted for Christian value. To be mentioned in the same breath as Lewis and Tolkien is astonishing. And this is the entire list: this pastor gives us four authors--only two of them for fiction--and one of them is Lawhead. While it signals Christian content it should also indicate deep skill. While the Christianity is more overt than Tolkien some of the writing is just as vibrant.

"Another difference from most other 20th Century versions of the story is the strong Christian message. No one can doubt where Mr Lawhead's religious sympathies are, and the first three books of the series were originally published by a religious publisher. I haven't got any problem with his religious views, we would probably agree on most points, but too much preaching tends to get kind of boring whatever the message is. Sometimes it works out fine, the religious expressions helping to create a sense of the Middle Ages, but sometimes it's just a little bit more than I can take. In Arthur it blends in very well with the scenario, but in Taliesin the preaching isn't as integrated and natural. Trying to catch the medieval atmosphere, the author uses a pseudo-medieval language, spicing it with words like 'worlds-realm' and pious remarks. This strategy could help creating that feeling of otherness so often sought in fantasy, but it also slows down the reading - and at times it gets pretty slow. And sometimes there are holes in the Middle Ages facade. Like when some peasants eat potatoes. Potatoes? In 5th Century Britain? No, it was at least another thousand years before that American plant was introduced in Europe."

--Karl Henriksson, Fantasy Finder

In this remarkable and well-written review of the series as a whole, Henriksson delivers on something that is at once thrilling and disappointing about these books. The Christianity of these books is utterly inescapable. For purists--for fantasy purists especially who are so often used to invented pantheons and unused to having to consider more personal issues of religion--these events will be troubling. Of particular trouble to us is when pagan Merlin suddenly converts to Christianity and becomes something more of a saint and, as a result, largely powerless (staunch Christians will sharply disagree on this point--probably Lawhead himself--but certainly Merlin loses some explicit, pagan abilities not to mention his more aggressive, youthful demeanor). Where so much of the Christianity integrates well, as Henriksson claims, there are some troubling moments where the characters wander to zealotry and Merlin is one of those cases.

On a related note, however, the religious tension that exists between writers like Lawhead and Bradley and others who have recently attempted to reconcile religion and Arthuriana is entirely appropriate. This tension exists in the earliest texts of Beowulf and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight where Celtic writers are attempting to reconcile their pagan backgrounds with the Christian church and the dictates it makes upon their publications. It is very interesting to read Lawhead's interpretations against the backdrop of historical writings and modern interpretations.

There has been a burst of renewed interest in serious so-called "Sword-and-Sandal" cinema with Gladiator, Troy, Alexander, and The Kingdom of Heaven. (Not to be overlooked--particularly since we're dealing with Arthurian legend, the recently released King Arthur.) These stories all have in common a mythical element as well as an historical element. They are not pure fantasy--such as The Lord of the Rings--but rather literature seeking to take mythical history and understand through that marvel and spectacle elements of our contemporary age. There is a reason that tales of knights and damsels have lasted over 1,500 years of recorded literature and that is because the legend touches something that continues to find relevance to this day. 

Because of this renewed interest in (what we're calling) mythical history, we have reached back to review a series of books first published in 1989 by the (greviously) overlooked Stephen R. Lawhead, who wrote a trilogy of books on King Arthur named "The Pendragon Cycle." (We intentionally overlook the later additions of Grail, Pendragon, and Avallon to the cycle.)

Lawhead has done some very interesting things with the Arthurian legend that is a credit to his skill and adds significantly to the genre. In the first novel, Taliesin, we are given the fall of Atlantis--revealed ultimately as the lost home of the fair-folk--as well as the birth and rise of the bard/druid Taliesin himself. The novel weaves back and forth between the first person in Charis of Atlantis (daughter of what will eventually become the Fisher King) and the third person in Taliesin. As the Celtic people rise--symbolically through Taliesin--the Atlanteans fall and come in exile to the land of the Celts. The coming together of these peoples, the romance, the hope and dreams, the balance of rising and relinquishing power, this is all some of Lawhead's best work done in this first novel. He is an unflinching idealist in his writing and is utterly committed in creating dramatic, poetic prose that other authors might not have the courage to attempt. Taliesin is thoroughly absorbing and recasts the fall of Atlantis at a very personal level while creating the character of Taliesin--a person rarely mentioned in either ancient texts, Arthuriana from the French romantic tradition, or even contemporary work--nearly from scratch.

The second volume, Merlin, is at once the most interesting novel and also the least fulfilling. Traditionally, Merlin is almost always shown as an aged wizard. Perhaps the most iconic performance is that of Nicol Williamson in his interpretation of Merlin in Boorman's film Excalibur. The one treatment of Merlin as youth comes from Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of the Kings of Britain where Merlin is revealed as a crafty, oft-laughing, child-prophet living his life in reverse. In almost all accounts--modern and historic--his is a caustic, often cynical, always shadowy figure seen as manipulating events but rarely delving in to them. (Not to mention the rather vivid portrayals of his seduction by Vivien popularized in the Victorian era.) Lawhead departs from all this. We are given a young, savage, fey Merlin--"Myrddin as he is named in the Celtic tradition--gifted both physically and mentally and originally anointed himself as the "promised one" foretold in prophecies. Tempestuous, hot-tempered, skilled, he would remind the 21st century reader very, very much of Anakin Skywalker (at least, perhaps, the more real imagined version that exists in the fans' minds rather than the fop that Lucas turned in for his prequels). His glory, his defeats, his madness, and his rebirth as the wizard preparing the way for Arthur are starkly different from what most people understand as Merlin and offer a character study that is very compelling but will be disappointing to many. Most notably absent is his magic. Very seldom will he invoke spells but will instead take on a decidedly Christian turn and almost becomes more of a warrior monk than what we would understand as a wizard.

Incidentally, one of the things Lawhead is known for is his tremendous talent in creating first-person voices. Here, where we switch from the dramatic monologues of Charis to the more acerbic Merlin, we see this talent on display. We will see it again in the third volume of Arthur where several different characters will begin to give voice to the legend of Arthur. Once again, we acknowledge Lawhead's complete commitment to his characters as he finds unique voices for each of them.

The final volume, Arthur, is a full triumph. At last, given the birth and rise of Arthur through Pelleas, through Bedwyr, and through Merlin (but never Arthur himself) the old Celtic legend is given its glorious moment and its notorious, somber defeat. It's in this novel that Lawhead's Christian agenda comes fully to light. It is also here where it is most clear that Lawhead is following in the Celtic traditions rather than the French. Few people, outside of scholars, will recognize "Bedwyr" as "Bedivere" or "Llenleawg" as "Lancelot." Readers will look in vain for the adultery of Guenevere ("Gwenhwyfar" in Celtic) or other elements of the romance popularized by Chrétien de Troyes, Thomas Malory, and Alfred, Lord Tennyson. This "Bear of Britain" is from the much older traditions: from Geoffrey of Monmouth, from unattributed legends, the Mabinogion, and other Celtic traditions. But it is also given the Christian interpretation and moments of originality by Lawhead as he weaves in the fate of the Atlanteans and others. It is here, with Arthur, that Lawhead's style of idealistic, unflinching prose is given its full power and is really the only voice that has ever given a satisfactory picture of the heroic, mythic Arthur: the hero that all men would follow. We are given this by Pelleas in the opening lines of this book:

"When all the words are spoken and the arguments fall exhausted into silence, this single fact remains: we would follow Arthur to the very gates of Hell and beyond if he asked it. And that is the solitary truth.

Show me another man who can command such loyalty.

"Cymbrogi" he calls us; companions of the heart, fellow-countrymen.

Cymbrogi! We are his strong arm, his shield and spear, his blade and helm. We are the blood in his veins , the hard sinew of his flesh, the bone beneath the skin. We are the breath in his lungs, the clear light of his eyes, and the song rising to his lips. We are the meat and drink at his board.

Cymbrogi! We are the earth and sky to him. And Arthur is all these things to us--and more.

This description is the mythic version of Arthur and, because of the idealism and power of Lawhead's prose, he is able to build a character--from his youth and through the eyes of others--that absolutely fulfills this promise. It is something nearly impossible to do and perhaps something only Tennyson has ever been able to fully promise. It is an interesting mixture of the heroic French Arthur with the Celtic traditions of the past wrapped in its Christian setting. Few authors would dare try to wrap a Christian hero in to the trappings of Celtic lore where warrior-kings were more closely associated with Beowulf.

Lawhead is successful in adding something very interesting to the Arthurian tradition. It is, perhaps, not the definitive edition and not one to which others will turn first when seeking the romance of the Round Table but it is at least as good as any recent interpretation and far, far better than most.

These books sold very, very well for the author in what can only be described as an impossibly crowded genre. It seems every fantasy novelist attempts, at some point, a re-telling and definitive edition of the Arthurian myth. It is the only subject more trampled and copied than Tolkien. It is also the genre that lapses in to the most astonishing absurdities. Lawhead, with these three books (Taliesin, Merlin, and Arthur) has contributed something very relevant and very new to the genre. It gives the myth a burst of idealism and Christianity not seen since Tennyson with the Celtic traditions not seen since the Mabinogion. Sadly, with the publication of the latter three--and far lesser novels (Pendragon, Grail, and Avallon) the series is much damaged and diminished. We believe that Lawhead would've been far better served to let the trilogy stand on its own where it's not so intimidating and probably would've enjoyed subsequent reprinting. As it stands, our rating for this book is slightly tarnished by these later publications and endanger the proud work of a very, very good author.

Readers who enjoyed Tolkien a great deal and who read Terry Brooks, Robert Jordan, and others searching for that same idealism will come closest to finding it here with Lawhead. Readers who enjoyed Marion Zimmerman Bradley's feminized version of the legend in The Mists of Avalon will find this work operating as a kind of opposite: Bradley employing the traditional pagan religious elements and feminism while re-working the French side of the myth while Lawhead invoking Christian theology and masculinity in t the Celtic side of the myth. They are very interesting to read together. These books are excellent choices for teenagers for whom idealism is second nature. Oddly, readers deeply impressed with the idealism of the people living in "The Land" in The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever will find themselves deeply compelled by this work.

Scholars of Arthuriana, those more versed in Malory, Monmouth, Eschenbach, de Troyes, and even Tennyson, will probably be a bit disappointed. They are going to be much less impressed with what they might regard as overly-dramatic prose and much more sensitive to the liberties--particularly the Christian liberties--that Lawhead takes with the story. Certainly those readers who are inclined to much more cynical writing styles of the late 20th and 21st century--people who enjoy the subtle undercurrents and "un-heroism" of more modern irreverent works--will probably become bored and irritable with the constant nobility (just as they would become bored with Tennyson's Idylls of the King). People looking to investigate the actual history and evolution of the mythology would not be well-served by reading this book but should look to the actual source material of Malory and perhaps some of the earlier Celtic works such as Monmouth and The Alliterative Morte d'Arthure.