Waterhouse: Juliet « Paintings

Guinevere

Famous image of the legendary Queen.

Guinevere

by Brian Edward Rise

Arthur’s queen. According to Giraldus Cambrensis, the inscribed cross from the royal grave at Glastonbury named her as Arthur’s second wife. Nothing is known of this first wife. Since the only surviving drawing of the cross only depicts one side and, presumably, any allusion to the queen was on the other, the claim of Giraldus is unverifiable. Those who believe Arthur died and was buried at Glastonbury generally accept that Guinevere was buried with him.

By the hand of Geoffrey of Monmouth, Guinevere becomes a beautiful lady with a Roman heritage, raised in the house of Duke Cador of Cornwall. Little else is said until the end of Arthur’s reign when she betrays the King by becoming the lover of the usurper Mordred. However, while the two are in battle, she runs away to Caerleon and enters a convent. The recurring theme of her entanglement with men besides her husband, whether by consent or abduction, has many variations. When kidnapped, she must be saved. On the archivolt in Modena Cathedral is a depiction, maybe pre-Geoffrey, of Arthur rescuing the queen. He must do it again in Caradoc’s “Vitae” of Gildas, this time the queen having been abducted by King Melwas of Somerset. When connected to the theme of infidelity later, the rescuer becomes not her husband but Lancelot.

These depictions might arise from a misinterpretation of the traditions of Celtic queens. A Celtic queen, like Medb of the Irish saga Tain Bo Culainge, was the equal of her husband in power and wealth. She also had affairs without reproach. Medieval writers could not have seen this free and equal behaviour as anything but stubborn infidelity. Their altered social perceptions would have precluded any true understanding hence Guinevere has since been cast as the unfaithful woman.

The romances depict her as the daughter of Leodegan, previous owner of the Round Table, which she brings as part of her dowry to Arthur. She has a doppleganger named the False Guinevere, another daughter of Leodegan, who tempts Arthur away from court. The queens conduct is given further excuse by Arthur’s encounters with Morgause and other women. Whereas the Welsh are always critical of her (until recently, to call a girl Guinevere in Wales was a reflection on her chastity), the continental writers show a sympathy for her that cause them to break totally from Geoffrey. They redirect the Queen’s attentions from Mordred, whose lustful advances are rejected with scorn, to Lancelot, a more noble and magnificent character.

The affair is well established by the time of Chr�tien de Troyes. A constant problem for writers is the King’s disposition about it. Rare among literary characters, Arthur is cuckolded yet is able to retain his dignity. He refuses to acknowledge the problem until it is scandalously forced into the open by Agravain. When Arthur tries to fufill his duty and execute her, she is resued by Lancelot but the ensuing conflicts and rivalries signal the beginning of the end to Arthur’s golden age.

In Malory, the Queen reaches a depth that had only been hinted at by his predecessors. She becomes giving and tragically passionate. She is childless in a marriage to a man she respects but doesn’t love and in love with a man she can never have. The love affair with Lancelot, while jealous and sometimes cruel, endures and is undeniable. She enters the convent at Amesbury after the final battle. Lancelot visits her there and she sends him away with a fond but penitent farewell, realizing that their deeds have brought about the ruin of the noblest group the world has known. Malory says, “She was a true lover and therefore she had a good end.”

But not at all for the faint of heart

The lifeless shells of famous former people

…because it has a doggie in it. Maggie is obsessed with doggie movies right now.

“M’kay, well, I don’t like you…but it was a good doggie movie.”

“What was your favorite part?”

“When the doggie howled and played dead.”

“Did the dog talk?”

“Yes, he talked..Hey,mom, why’s there no sound on the tv?”

If you haven’t seen it yet…

Poetic Vitriol

The Trumpeter of Krakow (a true story)

This is the story of the “Hejnal”, as it’s called:

From the tower of the Church, for centuries past, the Hejnal, or Hymn to out Lady(whose Church it is), was played by a trumpeter. He played it four times to the four winds, and he played it every hour. One day, many, many years ago, as he played, the trumpeter saw in the distance a cloud of dust which grew bigger with every passing moment. It was a large army of Tatars galloping towards the city. These cruel invaders from the east had more than once advanced to Krakow, nay, even farther, and they had pillaged and burned, looted and murdered and carried off the young people to be slaves in their camps. The trumpeter was horror stricken. How could he warn the city, how could he convey to the people the approach of danger and give them time to prepare their defense? There was only one thing he could do. To go down into the town and spread the alarm would be foolish, for it would waste precious minutes. He must play the Hejnal, over and over. That would surely arouse the citizens, they would certainly be aware of approaching danger. So he played, again and again. At first the people of Krakow were puzzled.

Why was the trumpeter playing over and over? and with such loud urgency? But they quickly realised that it was a warning and that from his lofty tower ha had seen danger approach. The soldiers sprang to arms and took up their stations on the walls of the city. The burgesses ran to secure their houses and place their wives and children behind locked doors. The apprentices seized their arrows and their cross-bows, the artisans seizes what tools they could lay their hands on, and they all marched to the defense of their city. Suddenly, the sound of the Hejnal ceased abrubtly.The notes had reached the ears of the Tatars as they approached, and their keen eyes had espied the figure of the trumpeter. As soon as they came within bow-shot, their leader, the surest marksman of them all, loosed his bow, and the deadly projectile logged in the trumpeter’s throat.

But his task was accomplished, and Krakow was saved. Thanks to his warning, the people were able to defend their city, and they inflicted a crushing defeat on the Tatars, killing one of their princes.

And since that day, the Hejnal has been broken off at the same note on which it was broken off by the Tatar arrow in honour of the trumpeter who gave his life for the city.

Home with a fussy teething baby. Sang her John Lennon songs for an hour, now we’re watching the Wiggles with no sound. Oh, the howling, oh the crying, oh how I love her in spite of all that.