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"The Tomb of King Arthur" |
An excellent post about the monks of Glastonbury and King Arthur's tomb from
A Clerk at Oxford:
In the twelfth century, the legend of King Arthur absolutely took off in England, and became hugely popular almost overnight. (Here's a fairly compact overview, and see also this and this page.)
This coincided with an explosion in the volume and variety of
historical texts being written in England, in Latin, French, and
English, and in many of these texts Arthurian legend became incorporated
into the narrative of the pre-Saxon history of Britain; from a
strictly historical point of view this was largely spurious, but it was
a moment of immense literary vitality and creativity. Not everybody
was swept along with the fashion; there are some skeptical and scathing
comments from twelfth-century historians about this apparently
brand-new history. But these stories had huge appeal, and part of that
appeal, we might speculate, was that they occupied an enchanting
borderland between history and fantasy: they can be imagined taking
place not in some faraway magical kingdom but in this country, on the very ground we walk on, yet so far in the past that they provide space for all kinds of invention.
Whatever the exact details of Glastonbury’s origins, there’s no doubt it
really is ancient, and people go there, even today, in part because of
the charm of antiquity, the sense of origins lost in the mists of time.
The vagueness and the mistiness and the ‘maybe real, maybe not’ are part
of its appeal to the imagination. Deliberately designing a church to
look older than it is might well be a scam, but it might equally be an
attempt at conveying an aura of ancientness, creating an atmosphere
which helps your visitors to feel that this is a special, holy, and
ancient place. (Note the difference between 'helps your visitors to
feel' and 'tricks your visitors into thinking'.) It’s an entirely
natural move to associate that specialness with the most popular
historical legend of the day, one which was especially beloved by the
aristocracy and the educated elite – the social world from which some
monks came, and which most monks had to learn to negotiate to some
degree. In that world, Arthurian legends were everywhere - and
understanding them as legends, as literature, is key.
Legends are not lies. Fiction is not fraud. At root, these are stories,
and the most important thing about a story – even a story about events
which happened in the past – is not always whether it is true, as in, it
actually happened. We all know this, don’t we? Telling a story which
you know not to be true is not necessarily lying; whether we call an
untrue story a 'lie' depends on all kinds of other factors, which we are
quite capable of understanding in our everyday lives. It depends on
your intention in telling it, the manner in which you tell it, the way
you want your audience to receive it, and the way they actually receive
it. If you invent a story which you know is not true, and you want your
audience to believe it’s true, that might be what we would call a lie.
(But even so, there are circumstances in which we would not consider it
lying; when parents tell their children stories about Father Christmas,
children believe them, but most people don’t call that 'lying'.) And if
you invent a story which the audience won’t believe, which they will
recognise as exactly that – a story – that’s not a lie. That’s fiction.
It’s fiction even if it deals with history; it is quite possible to tell
a story about history because you think it’s a good and powerful story,
and not because you think every word of it actually happened. (Read more.)
More
HERE from Stephanie Mann.
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