Review: Mists of Avalon
Review: The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley. Minor spoilers within.
If you enjoy Arthurian legend, The Mists of Avalon is not a work to be passed by. Marion Zimmer Bradley has done some truly remarkable things with the story that everyone knows at least a little. The Mists of Avalon is a refreshing take on the story of Arthur.
I can appreciate what Bradley does in using the perspective of the women in the legend; namely, Morgaine, Guinevere (spelled Gwenhwyfar in the text, but I am going to use the more traditional spelling for this review, because it’s easier for me), Morgause, and Viviane, with Igraine beginning the novel. And, what’s more, it is clear that Bradley has done her research and the changes she has made from what we perceive as the traditional legend were done deliberately. I quite enjoyed how she handled what in tradition is the very confusing identity of the Lady of the Lake/Viviane/Niviane/Nimue. The legend had always been murky when it came to that particular character, and Bradley handed it deftly.
I was also intrigued by the way in which Bradley treated sexuality. In particular, her choice of having Lancelet struggle with homosexual love for Arthur and even having him wonder if his love for Guinevere was only to be that much closer to Arthur, was a bold move and, I can imagine, probably oft-criticized. However, Morgaine’s bisexuality was more believable to me.
And since I have brought up Morgaine, I might as well continue on this vein of thought. I enjoyed the character. I felt that Bradley did a lot with her. She gave Morgaine the role that is sometimes given to Morgause-the one who has the incestuous love affair with Arthur and bears Mordred-yet she is not a one-dimensional evil character. Even Morgause, in Bradley’s text, is not evil, but an ambitious woman whose plans go badly awry. I actually appreciated Morgause. But Morgaine, I loved. I found myself connecting with her character. She made some choices I disapproved of and yet I also understood why she felt she had to make those choices, and Bradley gave her some very heavy ones.
I did not, on the other hand, enjoy Guinevere’s character. Now, I never really liked Gwen. Even as a child I had always been half in love with Arthur, and angry with Guinevere for betraying him. But this novel renewed my hatred for her with such fervor I almost wanted to tear out the pages that had her on them. At first she was merely a twit and too much of an obvious foil to Morgaine. But oh. my. god. Did things change fast. Any time I had to be in her head I wanted to punch her in the face. I mean, I really, really wished Bradley would take it upon herself to kill Guinevere off. It seemed to me that even Bradley had no respect for the character. She was so stupidly pious it was nauseating. And even when Bradley switched it up and had her question God, it was just… done so badly. And oh my god, the number of times I had to read how sweet her name sounded from Lancelet’s lips…. Ridiculous. To sum Guinevere up: barf.
And on that note: Bradley does not have much of a sense for conserving page space. The repetitiveness was beyond belief. My copy is 876 pages, and the pages are tall. I honestly believe that if Bradley had been more concise, it could have been reduced by half. So many things were agonized over, in basically the exact same way as they had been before-with no resolution being reached-SO MANY TIMES. I’m not talking repeating the same thoughts once or twice…. It’s much closer to seven. I kept thinking to myself, “I have already read this.”
In that way, the novel moves slowly at times. Particularly the parts with Igraine or Guinevere. And Igraine opens the novel, so, for me at least, it was a challenge. I didn’t feel really invested until Morgaine took action. There’s also so much of that old-fashioned speech. I mean, let’s face it, if we’re going to be true to speech, Bradley would have to have been writing in Old English, and no one would have understood anything she was writing. I think “historical” (and I’m using that term very, very loosely here) writers have good intentions when they use flowery, courtier speech in their novels, but I, for one, would appreciate it if they toned it down.
I have not yet touched on the male characters, and I feel they are deserving of at least a paragraph. Arthur was very endearing in the first half or so of the novel. It was Arthur at his best. Particularly when he was first crowned, and he was so nervous. Very cute. But later on, the more Guinevere had control over Arthur, the more pathetic he became. The turning point for me was when he gave up the banner of the Pendragon. After that, he was no longer the noble Arthur I loved so much, but a man wrapped around his idiot wife’s pinkie finger. I found I couldn’t respect him. Lancelet, to give him a sentence or two, was a little frustrating. I grew very tired of hearing how handsome he was, and his back-and-forth over everything (Guinevere, Arthur, religion) was tedious. Mordred was an interesting character, less evil than you’d think, and I appreciated that about him. I loved Gareth though, who was such a minor character, but so, so wonderful.
Closing notes: Mists is worth reading if you love Arthurian legend. It has a fresh take on a legend well-worn. However, Bradley’s writing style is a little sloppy, so if you’ve any qualms with reading sentences that make your eyes roll, you might want to pass this one up. The story is good, the ideas thought-provoking, some of the characters quite memorable, but the writing is only mediocre. Think Rowling but with a flare of the old-fashioned.
If you enjoy Arthurian legend, The Mists of Avalon is not a work to be passed by. Marion Zimmer Bradley has done some truly remarkable things with the story that everyone knows at least a little. The Mists of Avalon is a refreshing take on the story of Arthur.
I can appreciate what Bradley does in using the perspective of the women in the legend; namely, Morgaine, Guinevere (spelled Gwenhwyfar in the text, but I am going to use the more traditional spelling for this review, because it’s easier for me), Morgause, and Viviane, with Igraine beginning the novel. And, what’s more, it is clear that Bradley has done her research and the changes she has made from what we perceive as the traditional legend were done deliberately. I quite enjoyed how she handled what in tradition is the very confusing identity of the Lady of the Lake/Viviane/Niviane/Nimue. The legend had always been murky when it came to that particular character, and Bradley handed it deftly.
I was also intrigued by the way in which Bradley treated sexuality. In particular, her choice of having Lancelet struggle with homosexual love for Arthur and even having him wonder if his love for Guinevere was only to be that much closer to Arthur, was a bold move and, I can imagine, probably oft-criticized. However, Morgaine’s bisexuality was more believable to me.
And since I have brought up Morgaine, I might as well continue on this vein of thought. I enjoyed the character. I felt that Bradley did a lot with her. She gave Morgaine the role that is sometimes given to Morgause-the one who has the incestuous love affair with Arthur and bears Mordred-yet she is not a one-dimensional evil character. Even Morgause, in Bradley’s text, is not evil, but an ambitious woman whose plans go badly awry. I actually appreciated Morgause. But Morgaine, I loved. I found myself connecting with her character. She made some choices I disapproved of and yet I also understood why she felt she had to make those choices, and Bradley gave her some very heavy ones.
I did not, on the other hand, enjoy Guinevere’s character. Now, I never really liked Gwen. Even as a child I had always been half in love with Arthur, and angry with Guinevere for betraying him. But this novel renewed my hatred for her with such fervor I almost wanted to tear out the pages that had her on them. At first she was merely a twit and too much of an obvious foil to Morgaine. But oh. my. god. Did things change fast. Any time I had to be in her head I wanted to punch her in the face. I mean, I really, really wished Bradley would take it upon herself to kill Guinevere off. It seemed to me that even Bradley had no respect for the character. She was so stupidly pious it was nauseating. And even when Bradley switched it up and had her question God, it was just… done so badly. And oh my god, the number of times I had to read how sweet her name sounded from Lancelet’s lips…. Ridiculous. To sum Guinevere up: barf.
And on that note: Bradley does not have much of a sense for conserving page space. The repetitiveness was beyond belief. My copy is 876 pages, and the pages are tall. I honestly believe that if Bradley had been more concise, it could have been reduced by half. So many things were agonized over, in basically the exact same way as they had been before-with no resolution being reached-SO MANY TIMES. I’m not talking repeating the same thoughts once or twice…. It’s much closer to seven. I kept thinking to myself, “I have already read this.”
In that way, the novel moves slowly at times. Particularly the parts with Igraine or Guinevere. And Igraine opens the novel, so, for me at least, it was a challenge. I didn’t feel really invested until Morgaine took action. There’s also so much of that old-fashioned speech. I mean, let’s face it, if we’re going to be true to speech, Bradley would have to have been writing in Old English, and no one would have understood anything she was writing. I think “historical” (and I’m using that term very, very loosely here) writers have good intentions when they use flowery, courtier speech in their novels, but I, for one, would appreciate it if they toned it down.
I have not yet touched on the male characters, and I feel they are deserving of at least a paragraph. Arthur was very endearing in the first half or so of the novel. It was Arthur at his best. Particularly when he was first crowned, and he was so nervous. Very cute. But later on, the more Guinevere had control over Arthur, the more pathetic he became. The turning point for me was when he gave up the banner of the Pendragon. After that, he was no longer the noble Arthur I loved so much, but a man wrapped around his idiot wife’s pinkie finger. I found I couldn’t respect him. Lancelet, to give him a sentence or two, was a little frustrating. I grew very tired of hearing how handsome he was, and his back-and-forth over everything (Guinevere, Arthur, religion) was tedious. Mordred was an interesting character, less evil than you’d think, and I appreciated that about him. I loved Gareth though, who was such a minor character, but so, so wonderful.
Closing notes: Mists is worth reading if you love Arthurian legend. It has a fresh take on a legend well-worn. However, Bradley’s writing style is a little sloppy, so if you’ve any qualms with reading sentences that make your eyes roll, you might want to pass this one up. The story is good, the ideas thought-provoking, some of the characters quite memorable, but the writing is only mediocre. Think Rowling but with a flare of the old-fashioned.