***/***** (3/5)
John Jakes' American Civil War trilogy
1. North and South (3/5)
2. Love and War
3. Heaven and Hell
Here we confront another great lure of the subject: its fascinating and tragic paradox. The schism should not have happened, and [yet] it had to happen (speaking of the American Civil War). But that is my interpretation; as one historian has said, "Every man creates his own Civil War." --John Jakes in his Afterword of NORTH AND SOUTH
I frantically devoured John Jakes' opening salvo on the American Civil War, a behemoth 735-page hardcover entitled NORTH AND SOUTH (published in 1982). Its sequel, LOVE AND WAR, clocks in at 1,078 pages and I've already started it. Not since Elizabeth Chadwick's LORDS OF THE WHITE CASTLE have I found a book so unputdownable as Jakes' NORTH AND SOUTH. Deftly weaving factual events and people in American History with fictional characters and storylines, this astutely impartial novel sets the stage for the Civil War (1861-1865). Our tale here begins on June 1842 when two youngsters from opposing regions and contrasting opulent families (one family from the industrial north, the other from the plantation south) commence their turbulent friendship at West Point, and climaxes on April 12, 1861 when Confederate soldiers led by Brigadier General Beauregard opened fire on Union-held Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina, marking the onset of a bloody American Civil War which claimed over 620,000 lives (more than all the wars in American history combined).
John Jakes balances factual events and people, fictional families, friendships, poignant characterizations, love, lust, extremist fanaticism, and politics all under the shadow of slavery and racism which ripple even to this day. This book's primary intent? Entertainment. Although factually bloodier and darker than Bernard Cornwell's Arthurian Warlord trilogy, a glibly melodramatic fictional plotting characterizes Jakes' NORTH AND SOUTH, and this book definitely seemed lighter (than Cornwell's Warlord trilogy). Although consisting of some tense episodic plotting, all of our fictitious protagonists survive in this opening installment, albeit with some wear and tear. I actually wanted Charles Main to die. I didn't necessarily like the decidedly Southern focus of the novel, or some of the soap-opera-ish, melodramatic fictional plotting which just prompted questions of idiocy towards some of the characters. Half the time, I felt like I was reading a more intense version of the 80s TV serials Dallas or Falcon Crest about rich families. You remember those, don't you?
"Which way will you go, sir? North or South?"
[General Robert E. Lee's] face looked haggard in the rain. "I'm certain of one thing only. No matter how each man or woman answers the question you asked, I think there will be but one result from what we've allowed the extremists to do to us. Heartbreak. Good-bye, Lieutenant."
I thought NORTH AND SOUTH skillfully portrayed the factual events, politics and fervid extremist views on both sides which embroil this conflict. Jakes convincingly illustrates how a sectional storm of extremist malevolence could wipe away reason and good intentions. Personal ambitions and desires drive much of the extremist views. Anti-slavery, antagonistic northern views seems to put the South on the defensive, and Jakes magnificently captures how even reasonable men from the south against slavery fight for the South because of prevalently generalized anti-southern sentiments. The book conveys many factual legislation, people, politics, writers and authors during this time period, all of which widens the sectional schism and races the country to an unnecessary yet imperative conflict (the paradox that Jakes speaks of in his afterword). Jakes deftly realizes West Point, its cadets and its curriculum, an Academy which produces most if not all the brilliant Civil War officers on both sides. The book adeptly highlights the contrasting economies between the industrial North and the agricultural South, an economic contrast symbolized by the very appearance of our fictional families: the stocky, blue-collar ironmasters the Hazards from Pennsylvania, and the tall, aristocratic rice plantation owners the Mains from South Carolina.
Cooper Main: "This is the age of the machine, and we [the South] refuse to acknowledge it. We cling to agriculture and our past, while we fall farther and farther out of step. Once the South practically ran this country. No more. Every year we lose respect and influence at the national level. And with reason. We aren't attuned to the times." He stopped short of citing the familiar proof -- the peculiar institution to which the South's prosperity had become shackled as firmly as the slaves themselves were bound to their owners.
Cooper had concluded that the significant difference between the economic systems of the North and South was not in industry versus agriculture but in motivation. The free Yankee worked to better himself. The Southern slave worked to keep from being punished. That difference was slowly rotting the South from the inside...
Cooper Main: "We're content to be what we've been for a hundred and fifty years -- farmers whose crops depend on the sweat of black bondsmen. We ignore men like George's father, even though they're becoming legion up North. George's father manufactures iron with free labor. That iron goes into machines. Machines are creating the future. The Yankees understand what this century's all about, but we only understand the last one..."
George Hazard: "This piece [of meteor fragment] may have traveled millions and millions of miles before it crashed here. My father says the iron trade has had more influence on the course of history than all the politicians and generals since the beginning of time" -- he held up the meteorite -- "and this is the reason. Iron can destroy anything: families, fortunes, governments, whole countries. It's the most powerful stuff in the universe."
"Oh? You really think it's more powerful than a big army?" [asked Orry Main].
"Without weapons -- without this -- there are no big armies."
The book intermingles much history into the fiction: we hear about Robert E. Lee's military brilliance early in this novel and often, we hear about all the legislation which attempted to balance interests over slavery from the Missouri Compromise to the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 to the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854 (allowed residents to decide over the slavery issue). We're intimately involved in the Mexican-American War (1846-1848) caused by a dispute over Texas' southern borders from the eyes and ears of our main characters Orry Main and George Hazard. Several incendiary historical figures conflagrate the delicate balance between the North and South: former Vice President and South Carolina Senator John C. Calhoun and South Carolina Representative Preston Brooks to revolutionary abolutionist John Brown. The book also notes the Nullification Crisis over the Tariff of 1828 which hit South Carolina particularly hard and triggers the debate over power at the state versus federal level. The book further has many of its fictional characters read popular literary works during the time including Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin. Late in the novel, we even meet Confederate President Jefferson Davis, seen as a sharp and astute leader by northerner George Hazard. Later in 1861 we met Abraham Lincoln at the onset of the Civil War, when many northern politicians view Lincoln as a weak leader while southerners see him as an ape.
Why were three adults so upset about one man's escape? ... At last George [Hazard] began to understand something of the Southern dilemma. He began to understand the stranglehold that slavery had on those who practiced it. Not one slave could be allowed to escape, for if one succeeded, thousands might try. The Mains and all others like them were prisoners of the very system by which they profited. And they were prisoners of fear.
There's quite a bit of love and romance in this novel. We have the emotionally-charged, angst-filled and impossible romance between Orry Main and Madeline LaMotte lasting the entire novel. There's the rushed romance between George Hazard and Constance receiving very superficial treatment. There's the romance between Cooper Main and Judith, and that was a sweet one actually. Finally, and my favorite, we have the romance between Billy Hazard and Brett Main sealing the connection between the two families, and representing the potential for love between North and South during a time of turmoil and conflict.
[Billy Hazard] studied [Brett Main's] eyes. How pretty they were. How free of guile. She wasn't as flamboyantly attractive as Ashton, and she never would be. Yet she did possess beauty, he thought; beauty of a simpler, more substantial sort, compounded in part of the shy gentleness of her gaze and the kindness of her smile. It was a beauty that time could never erode, as it could her sister's. It ran like a rich, pure vein, all the way to the center of Brett's being.
Or so his romantic eye told him.
I found the titles of the prologue and the four parts of the novel very chilling and the writing/content therein often adds to the title's ominous tones. The prologue, entitled Two Fortunes, sets up the two prominent families as early as 1686 from the first-generation immigrants that traveled to the British colonies. More than 6 generations later, second sons Orry Main and George Hazard meet and form close bonds in the first part called Answer to the Drum. This first part also has Orry and George in the Mexican-American War after graduating from West Point. The second part Friends and Enemies establishes civil strife between and within families while Charles Main and Billy Hazard follow in Orry & George's footsteps at West Point. More of a soap opera feeling dominates Friends and Enemies. The third part gives me goosebumps every time and all the more because it's a quote a by real historical figure: "The Cords that Bind are Breaking One by One." South Carolina is the first to secede from the Union in this third and pivotal part and we're privy to the orgasmic celebrating in Charleston after South Carolina's secession. The fourth and final part March Into Darkness marks the commencement of the Civil War as Confederate troops open fire on Union-held Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina. There's also long and contrived plotting dealing with our fictional characters during this time (albeit entirely addictive). The end here stretches quite a bit as Orry Main travels up to Union territory during this time of war. All in all, the book spans from 1842 to 1861 discounting the prologue which sets up the first-generation immigrants in 1686 over 6 generations earlier.
You might think a novel about the American Civil War would focus more on the North, right? Not so in this opening installment, I thought Jakes skews the bulk of the perspective from the South and the Southern family Mains. The Mains are a lot more fleshed out: Tillet Main the father, both his sons Cooper and Orry, and both his daughters Ashton and Brett. I'd be remiss not to mention Tillet's nephew and Orry's cousin the reckless, yet incredibly handsome Charles Main whose adventures and character development probably outshine that of any other character in terms of sheer page count (his early reckless brawling and whoring ways, his development into a gentleman when he prepares for a duel with a Smith, and finally his leadership as a soldier after he's stationed at Texas). By contrast, the northern Pennsylvania industrialists the Hazards receive, at best, a perfunctory treatment: the patriarch William Hazard perishes in the first part of the novel, Stanley the eldest son isn't nearly as interesting as Cooper Main, and consequently, doesn't receive nearly as much attention. Orry's perspective and love story easily overshadows George Hazard's (Orry and George are the two second sons who meet and become friends at West Point in 1842, remember). Cousin Charles Main's character development and adventures eclipses Billy Hazard's, the youngest Hazard brother, and for that matter, eclipses that of every other character as well. And of course Ashton and Brett Main are far more evident than the irksome, fanatic Hazard daughter, Virgilia. Furthermore, Orry's love interest Madeline LaMotte is a lot more fleshed out than George Hazard's love interest Constance.
Madeline LaMotte thinking: Something in the young cadet's eyes, in [Orry Main's] courtly bearing and his shy demeanor, called out to her, spoke to her on a deep and primitive level.
Slavery and issues from the South (particularly South Carolina which is the first state to secede in 1861) could explain the pronounced Southern focus and the emphasis on all the Mains (the American version of British aristocracy in the 18th and 19th-century fueled by slavery). Regardless of the reasons for this decided focus on the Mains, I found myself wanting more perspectives from the North and from Billy Hazard (the youngest Hazard son) in particular to offset a lopsided emphasis on Charles Main. Unfortunately, there's more plotting focusing exclusively on Orry and Charles Main than on George and Billy Hazard. For example, during a leave from West Point after George and Orry's second year, the novel shifts its attention emphatically on Orry Main and Mont Royal, South Carolina, also setting up Madeline LaMotte and the other Mains in the process. During Madeline's marriage reception to Justin LaMotte, Charles Main (Orry's cousin) shines as a young rogue brawler. Nothing whatsoever about what George Hazard did back home in Pennsylvania and nothing about his family in any interesting or involved fashion. Cooper Main visits his younger brother Orry at West Point earlier as well. Following the Mexican-American War, we finally find more of an account on the Hazards as George feuds with his inept older brother Stanley and wrests control of Hazard Iron away from him after their father's death. Still, we find much more extensive plots dealing with Orry, Ashton, Brett, Cooper, Charles and Madeline LaMotte down in South Carolina as Orry copes with one arm and grooms his cousin Charles. Twice, Orry visits his friend George Hazard up north at Lehigh Station, Pennsylvania, and the book painstakingly chronicles the entire journey up north from Orry's perspective (once with his sister Brett and later towards the very end making the journey by himself).
Although I enjoyed Charles' characterization in the very beginning as a reckless 7 year-old boy, I really disliked him the more he grew and the more the book focused on him. For instance, NORTH AND SOUTH spent a seemingly pointless 7 chapters (over 60 pages!) exclusively on Charles' adventures in Texas with the pernicious Captain Bent. I found the entire ordeal with Charles and Bent in Texas pointless and exhausting. Even portions at the end seemingly about Billy Hazard and Brett involved Charles as he flies to the rescue at a rigged duel between Billy Hazard and Forbes LaMotte.
I also found much of the fictional plotting involving these two families ridiculous, convoluted and too soapy. It just seemed like these characters were stupid letting the antagonists repeatedly foment conflict and tension. For example, consider Virgilia Hazard's singular purpose in the novel: disrupt the delicate friendship between the Mains and Hazards. Repeatedly, Virgilia causes problems between the two families and yet idiotically, George Hazard seems to allow it every time. For example, Virgilia Hazard shows up every time Orry Main is visiting the Hazard home in Lehigh Station, Pennsylvania, to provoke and antagonize. And George just allows it every time without taking any steps to at least isolate Virgilia when Orry is visiting. Earlier, George agrees to allow Virgilia to accompany the Hazards down south to the Main home despite knowing Virgilia's inflammatory and antagonistic disposition condemning all white Southerners and despite knowing her desire to indiscriminately eradicate every single one of them. Dumb, on George's part. Later, when marriage to Billy seems finally possible, Brett Main rushes to share the news with her older, prettier sister Ashton Main first despite knowing from a very early age Ashton's avariciously ambitious nature. Why would you do that, Brett, when you're aware of Ashton's sick and twisted mind? At the end, I was frustrated by Orry's anemic response to Ashton's treachery. Orry simply gives Ashton a slap on the wrist and banishes her for from Mont Royal for a grievous offense which warranted a harsher comeuppance.
George & Orry's turbulent friendship represents a microcosm of the entire conflict over slavery and the events leading to the Civil War itself. When George asks Orry to allow a slave on the run to escape a likely death sentence, Orry seethes and reminds George -- a Northerner -- to stay out of the South's affairs.
Orry Main: "Once before, I tried to explain the nature of things in the South. I told you we understand our own problems, our own needs, better than outsiders do. I told you we'd eventually solve those problems -- so long as outsiders didn't interfere...if you want us to continue to be friends, don't ever ask me to do something like that again."
[George] hoped Orry was right about the South's eventually solving its own problems. If the South did not, the rest of the nation would surely take action.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Excalibur, by Bernard Cornwell [2]
**/***** (2/5)
Warlord Chronicles, a tale of Arthur
1. The Winter King (***)
2. Enemy of God (***)
3. Excalibur (**)
Arthur was probably no king, he may not have lived at all, but despite all the efforts of historians to deny his every existence, he is still, to millions of folk about the world, what a copyist called him in the fourteenth century, Arturus Rex Quondam, Rexque Futurus: Arthur, our Once and Future King. --Bernard Cornwell, Historical Note in EXCALIBUR
Cornwell's EXCALIBUR marks the crowning jewel of a fulsomely callous portrayal of women in 5th-century Britain, at least any woman of note (with the lone exception of Ceinwyn). Maybe it's unfair and provincial of me to view ruthlessness and calculated ambition potentially admirable in men but singularly unbecoming in women. Regardless, Guinevere's promiscuous ambition for power, glory and fame while Nimue's cold, religious fanaticism to sacrifice women and children for her pagan religion both distinguished Cornwell's final Arthurian installment EXCALIBUR. Although some may see EXCALIBUR as Guinevere's road to redemption, I can't say I really saw it that way. Admittedly, EXCALIBUR belongs to Guinevere, but I couldn't get over Guinevere betraying Arthur with Lancelot and then ready to betray him again with the druid twins back in ENEMY OF GOD, and all for power and glory. The humble first-person narration in a flashback makes for an inviting reading experience though the portentously gloomy tones tends to drown some of the enthusiasm. Cornwell's settings, historical backdrop and prose are all solid.
EXCALIBUR highlights the monumental battle in Arthur's lifetime which repels the Saxon conquest of Britain for an entire generation: the battle at Mynydd Baddon, or simply, Mount Badon. Of the three books in this Arthurian rendition, magic plays the biggest role here, and I can't say it was for the better. In the first part, The Fires of Mai Dun, Merlin and Nimue attempt to bring the old gods back. I found myself most engaged in the second part Mynydd Baddon in which we're treated to the warlord in Arthur at his best: battling against insurmountable odds. The final two parts, Nimue's Curse and The Last Enchantment concludes with Nimue's pagan fanaticism.
Mount Baddon. In time the poets would make that name ring through all of Britain. It would be sung in a thousand halls and fire the blood of children yet unborn, but for now it meant nothing to me. It was just a convenient hill, a grass-walled fort, and the place where, all unwillingly, I had planted my two banners in the turf. One showed Ceinwyn's star, while the other, which we had found and rescued from Argante's wagons, flaunted Arthur's banner of the bear.
So in the morning light, where they flapped in the drying wind, the bear and the star defied the Saxons.
On Mynydd Baddon.
As opposed to the madness of Christianity in ENEMY OF GOD, EXCALIBUR now turns its attentions to painting the pagan religion of 5th-century Britain in a very gruesome light via Nimue's fanatically insane group of followers. Again, you have to admire Cornwell's decided aversion to black-and-white storytelling. Where ENEMY OF GOD describes a mad and violent Christian movement, EXCALIBUR now concludes with a fanatically cruel pagan depiction with child sacrifices. Past friends and lovers now become cruel enemies (Nimue), allies plot and scheme (King of Gwent Meurig, Mordred), traitors repent and expiate (Guinevere), while apparent enemies exhibit valor and heart (Derfel's Saxon father, King Aelle). Readers will find merit in evil and cruelty in apparent good. All of it adds to Cornwell's well-researched and captivating tale of Arthur.
...[Arthur] had loved the practice of war. He tried to deny that love, but he was good at battle and quick in thought and that made him a deadly soldier. It was soldiering that had made him famous, and had let him unite the Britons and defeat the Saxons, but then his shyness about power, and his perverse belief in the innate goodness of man, and his fervent adherence to the sanctity of oaths, had let lesser men undo his work...
By the end of ENEMY OF GOD, I thought Guinevere's betrayal would teach Arthur something of ruthlessness and cold retribution. Unfortunately, Arthur's downfall rested on his most noble quality: his persistence to forgive and believe in the goodness of people and the sanctity of oaths. In the end, he wanted gratitude, but both the Christians and the pagans hate him by EXCALIBUR and he finally relinquishes his power in EXCALIBUR. Our narrator Derfel loves Arthur dearly and vehemently defends him here:
'I still think Arthur let us down [by relinquishing his power after Mynydd Baddon],' Dafydd said...How many times have I been forced to listen to that same condemnation of Arthur? If only Arthur had stayed in power, men say, then the Saxons would still be paying us tribute and Britain would stretch from sea to sea, but when Britain did have Arthur it just grumbled about him. When he gave folk what they wanted, they complained because it was not enough. The Christians attacked him for favoring the pagans, the pagans attacked him for tolerating the Christians, and the Kings, all except Cuneglas and Oengus mac Airem, were jealous of him. Oengus's support counted for little, but when Cuneglas died Arthur lost his most valuable royal supporter. Besides, Arthur did not let anyone down. Britain let itself down. Britain let the Saxons creep back, Britain squabbled amongst itself and then Britain whined that it was all Arthur's fault. Arthur, who had given them victory!
Despite devoting his life to bringing back the old gods, Merlin in the end sacrificed that endeavor for the love he bears for Arthur, a man he loved above all men. Merlin returns to his crudely droll ways, and his advise to look to ourselves for guidance and salvation (instead of any god or gods) rings true in EXCALIBUR.
'[Guinevere]'ll be out of [her prison] in two years! One, probably. If Arthur wanted her gone from his life he'd have put her to the flames, which is what he should have done. There's nothing like a good burning for improving a woman's behavior, but it's no use telling Arthur that. The halfwit's in love with her! And he is a halfwit. Think about it! Lancelot alive, Mordred alive, Cerdic alive and Guinevere alive! If a soul wants to live for ever in this world it seems like a very good idea to become an enemy of Arthur...'
'Most of [Pliny's] notions are arrant nonsense, of course. All that rubbish about Druids cutting mistletoe on the sixth day of a new moon! I'd never do that, never! The fifth day, yes, and sometimes the seventh, but the sixth? Never! And he also recommends, as I recall, wrapping a woman's breast band about the skull to cure an aching head, but the remedy doesn't work. How could it? The magic is in the breasts, not in the band, so it is clearly far more efficacious to bury the aching head in the breasts themselves. The remedy has never failed me, that's for sure...'
We received a hint of a woman's cold viciousness when Guinevere betrays Arthur in ENEMY OF GOD, but here, all of the female characterizations exacerbate, all of them ruthlessly ambitious in their own goals/devices: Guinevere, Nimue and Arthur's second wife Argante. Argante puts on a sanguinary display to her goddess Nantosuelta. Men such as Cerdic and Lamelot can be cruel and ambitious, but neither of them demonstrate the ostentatious histrionics of callous truculence all the notable women characters in this novel sponsor (again, with the lone exception of Ceinwyn). Surprisingly, Arthur's sister, pagan-priestess-turned-devout-Christian Morgan, saves the day for Derfel.
I didn't find the book's attempts to redeem Guinevere very convincing. In EXCALIBUR, Guinevere admits to sleeping with the old Powys King and later, sleeping with a Powys chieftain for the sake of power. Guinevere wants to be a man, and failing that, covets being a Caesar's wife, an empress surrounded by power, beauty and glory. Arthur dreams of a much simpler life, the very thought of which suffocates and repulses Guinevere. Guinevere sets her ambitions aside to be what Arthur wants in this novel though, but I thought her words and the attempt were half-hearted because Arthur's rustic dreams strip Guinevere of who she really is: an ambitiously "clever" woman (though manipulative would be a better word). She consents to Arthur's wish of a simple life bereft of power and glory out of some obligation: "I do owe [Arthur] some happiness, do I not?" At another point in this novel, Guinevere asks Bors, Lancelot's champion who defects, whether he too grew bored of Lancelot. Cornwell's Guinevere continues to exhibit a savagery far surpassing men.
'[Christians] all worship motherhood, but they're all as dry as husks...[motherhood is] such a waste of life!' [Guinevere] was bitterly angry now. 'Cows make good mothers and sheep suckle perfectly adequately, so what merit lies in motherhood? Any stupid girl can become a mother! It's all that most of them are fit for! Motherhood isn't an achievement, it's an inevitability! But it was all Arthur wanted me to be! A suckling cow!' --Guinevere
Guinevere finally reveals to Derfel why she wanted Lancelot to be king. In ENEMY OF GOD, Derfel thinks Guinevere may love Lancelot, but the truth is actually worse (in my mind). Guinevere sleeps with Lancelot so she'll have him wrapped around her finger, something she couldn't do with Arthur. "I wanted [Lancelot] to be King because he's a weak man and a woman can only rule in this world through such a feeble man..." Since she was saying all this to Derfel so passionately, was it by her command or acquiescence that sent men to slaughter Derfel's wife and children back in ENEMY OF GOD? Since she can control such a weak man so easily, I couldn't help but wonder if she somehow plotted to have Lancelot rape Derfel's wife and kill his daughters back in ENEMY OF GOD. Is she that naively dumb to believe she'll "control" all the whims of such a weak man once he sits a throne? And if she did agree or command to kill Derfel's family because she so deftly controlled Lancelot then she's worst than Lancelot. Conveniently, it seems Derfel doesn't recall Guinevere's possible involvement in Lancelot's perfidious plans for Derfel's family back in ENEMY OF GOD. Derfel and his men are too enamored (manipulated) by Guinevere here in EXCALIBUR.
Derfel's conversations with Igraine before the beginning of Part One, The Fires of Mai Dun, proved interesting. A very interesting look at love, fidelity and Arthur.
'[Arthur] wanted a free Britain and the Saxons defeated, but in his soul he wanted Guinevere's constant reassurance that he was a good man. And when she slept with Lancelot it proved to Arthur that he was the lesser man. It wasn't true, of course, but it hurt him. How it hurt. I have never seen a man so hurt. Guinevere tore his heart.'
...
'Were you ever unfaithful to Ceinwyn?'
'No,' I answered truthfully.
'Did you ever want to be?'
'Oh, yes. Lust does not vanish with happiness, Lady. Besides, what merit is there in fidelity if it is never tested?'
'You think there is merit in fidelity?' [Igraine] asked...
I smiled. 'We want fidelity in our lovers, Lady, so is it not obvious that they want it in us? Fidelity is a gift we offer to those we love. Arthur gave it to Guinevere, but she cold not return it. She wanted something different.'
'Which was?'
'Glory, and he was ever averse to glory. He achieved it, but he would not revel in it. She wanted an escort of a thousand horsemen, bright banners to fly above her and the whole island of Britain prostrate beneath her. And all he ever wanted was justice and good harvests...' And a free Britain and the Saxons defeated.
Later, Sagramor shares rumors about Arthur remaining faithful to Guinevere even after he renounces her and marries the young Irish princess Argante. Tragic, that he should remain loyal to Guinevere to the last while that fidelity and loyalty wasn't returned.
I found this comment by Culhwch funny:
Nimue screamed as the boy fell, then she leapt at Arthur again with her hands hooked like claws, but Arthur simply backhanded her hard and fast across the head with the flat of his sword blade so that she spun away dazed. The force of the blow could easily be heard above the crackling of flames. Nimue staggered, slack-jawed and with her one eye unfocused, and she dropped.
'Should have done that to Guinevere,' Culhwch growled at me.
More than once, EXCALIBUR (and the other two books as well) describes the feeling in battle, and I thought it was an apt description. The warring doesn't necessarily strip the soul as so many romances would have us believe, it just is. For many men during this time period, it was a way of life.
A terrible hate wells up in battle, a hatred that comes from the dark soul to fill a man with fierce and bloody anger. Enjoyment, too ... Ours was a world where swords gave rank, and to shirk the sword was to lose honor, and so I ran ahead, madness filling my soul and exultation giving me a terrible power as I picked my victims. They were two young men, both smaller than me, both nervous, both with skimpy beards, and both were shrinking away even before I hit them. They saw a British warlord in splendor, and I saw two dead Saxons.
It is the beguiling glory of war, the sheer exhilaration...I watched Arthur, a man as kind as any I have known, and saw nothing but joy in his eyes. Galahad, who prayed each day that he could obey Christ's commandment to love all men, was now killing them with a terrible efficiency. Culhwch was roaring insults. he had discarded his shield so that he could use both hands on his heavy spear. Gwydre was grinning behind his cheekpieces, while Taliesin was singing as he killed the enemy wounded left behind by our advancing shield wall. You do not win the fight of the shield wall by being sensible and moderate, but by a Godlike rush of howling madness.
Warlord Chronicles, a tale of Arthur
1. The Winter King (***)
2. Enemy of God (***)
3. Excalibur (**)
Arthur was probably no king, he may not have lived at all, but despite all the efforts of historians to deny his every existence, he is still, to millions of folk about the world, what a copyist called him in the fourteenth century, Arturus Rex Quondam, Rexque Futurus: Arthur, our Once and Future King. --Bernard Cornwell, Historical Note in EXCALIBUR
Cornwell's EXCALIBUR marks the crowning jewel of a fulsomely callous portrayal of women in 5th-century Britain, at least any woman of note (with the lone exception of Ceinwyn). Maybe it's unfair and provincial of me to view ruthlessness and calculated ambition potentially admirable in men but singularly unbecoming in women. Regardless, Guinevere's promiscuous ambition for power, glory and fame while Nimue's cold, religious fanaticism to sacrifice women and children for her pagan religion both distinguished Cornwell's final Arthurian installment EXCALIBUR. Although some may see EXCALIBUR as Guinevere's road to redemption, I can't say I really saw it that way. Admittedly, EXCALIBUR belongs to Guinevere, but I couldn't get over Guinevere betraying Arthur with Lancelot and then ready to betray him again with the druid twins back in ENEMY OF GOD, and all for power and glory. The humble first-person narration in a flashback makes for an inviting reading experience though the portentously gloomy tones tends to drown some of the enthusiasm. Cornwell's settings, historical backdrop and prose are all solid.
EXCALIBUR highlights the monumental battle in Arthur's lifetime which repels the Saxon conquest of Britain for an entire generation: the battle at Mynydd Baddon, or simply, Mount Badon. Of the three books in this Arthurian rendition, magic plays the biggest role here, and I can't say it was for the better. In the first part, The Fires of Mai Dun, Merlin and Nimue attempt to bring the old gods back. I found myself most engaged in the second part Mynydd Baddon in which we're treated to the warlord in Arthur at his best: battling against insurmountable odds. The final two parts, Nimue's Curse and The Last Enchantment concludes with Nimue's pagan fanaticism.
Mount Baddon. In time the poets would make that name ring through all of Britain. It would be sung in a thousand halls and fire the blood of children yet unborn, but for now it meant nothing to me. It was just a convenient hill, a grass-walled fort, and the place where, all unwillingly, I had planted my two banners in the turf. One showed Ceinwyn's star, while the other, which we had found and rescued from Argante's wagons, flaunted Arthur's banner of the bear.
So in the morning light, where they flapped in the drying wind, the bear and the star defied the Saxons.
On Mynydd Baddon.
As opposed to the madness of Christianity in ENEMY OF GOD, EXCALIBUR now turns its attentions to painting the pagan religion of 5th-century Britain in a very gruesome light via Nimue's fanatically insane group of followers. Again, you have to admire Cornwell's decided aversion to black-and-white storytelling. Where ENEMY OF GOD describes a mad and violent Christian movement, EXCALIBUR now concludes with a fanatically cruel pagan depiction with child sacrifices. Past friends and lovers now become cruel enemies (Nimue), allies plot and scheme (King of Gwent Meurig, Mordred), traitors repent and expiate (Guinevere), while apparent enemies exhibit valor and heart (Derfel's Saxon father, King Aelle). Readers will find merit in evil and cruelty in apparent good. All of it adds to Cornwell's well-researched and captivating tale of Arthur.
...[Arthur] had loved the practice of war. He tried to deny that love, but he was good at battle and quick in thought and that made him a deadly soldier. It was soldiering that had made him famous, and had let him unite the Britons and defeat the Saxons, but then his shyness about power, and his perverse belief in the innate goodness of man, and his fervent adherence to the sanctity of oaths, had let lesser men undo his work...
By the end of ENEMY OF GOD, I thought Guinevere's betrayal would teach Arthur something of ruthlessness and cold retribution. Unfortunately, Arthur's downfall rested on his most noble quality: his persistence to forgive and believe in the goodness of people and the sanctity of oaths. In the end, he wanted gratitude, but both the Christians and the pagans hate him by EXCALIBUR and he finally relinquishes his power in EXCALIBUR. Our narrator Derfel loves Arthur dearly and vehemently defends him here:
'I still think Arthur let us down [by relinquishing his power after Mynydd Baddon],' Dafydd said...How many times have I been forced to listen to that same condemnation of Arthur? If only Arthur had stayed in power, men say, then the Saxons would still be paying us tribute and Britain would stretch from sea to sea, but when Britain did have Arthur it just grumbled about him. When he gave folk what they wanted, they complained because it was not enough. The Christians attacked him for favoring the pagans, the pagans attacked him for tolerating the Christians, and the Kings, all except Cuneglas and Oengus mac Airem, were jealous of him. Oengus's support counted for little, but when Cuneglas died Arthur lost his most valuable royal supporter. Besides, Arthur did not let anyone down. Britain let itself down. Britain let the Saxons creep back, Britain squabbled amongst itself and then Britain whined that it was all Arthur's fault. Arthur, who had given them victory!
Despite devoting his life to bringing back the old gods, Merlin in the end sacrificed that endeavor for the love he bears for Arthur, a man he loved above all men. Merlin returns to his crudely droll ways, and his advise to look to ourselves for guidance and salvation (instead of any god or gods) rings true in EXCALIBUR.
'[Guinevere]'ll be out of [her prison] in two years! One, probably. If Arthur wanted her gone from his life he'd have put her to the flames, which is what he should have done. There's nothing like a good burning for improving a woman's behavior, but it's no use telling Arthur that. The halfwit's in love with her! And he is a halfwit. Think about it! Lancelot alive, Mordred alive, Cerdic alive and Guinevere alive! If a soul wants to live for ever in this world it seems like a very good idea to become an enemy of Arthur...'
'Most of [Pliny's] notions are arrant nonsense, of course. All that rubbish about Druids cutting mistletoe on the sixth day of a new moon! I'd never do that, never! The fifth day, yes, and sometimes the seventh, but the sixth? Never! And he also recommends, as I recall, wrapping a woman's breast band about the skull to cure an aching head, but the remedy doesn't work. How could it? The magic is in the breasts, not in the band, so it is clearly far more efficacious to bury the aching head in the breasts themselves. The remedy has never failed me, that's for sure...'
We received a hint of a woman's cold viciousness when Guinevere betrays Arthur in ENEMY OF GOD, but here, all of the female characterizations exacerbate, all of them ruthlessly ambitious in their own goals/devices: Guinevere, Nimue and Arthur's second wife Argante. Argante puts on a sanguinary display to her goddess Nantosuelta. Men such as Cerdic and Lamelot can be cruel and ambitious, but neither of them demonstrate the ostentatious histrionics of callous truculence all the notable women characters in this novel sponsor (again, with the lone exception of Ceinwyn). Surprisingly, Arthur's sister, pagan-priestess-turned-devout-Christian Morgan, saves the day for Derfel.
I didn't find the book's attempts to redeem Guinevere very convincing. In EXCALIBUR, Guinevere admits to sleeping with the old Powys King and later, sleeping with a Powys chieftain for the sake of power. Guinevere wants to be a man, and failing that, covets being a Caesar's wife, an empress surrounded by power, beauty and glory. Arthur dreams of a much simpler life, the very thought of which suffocates and repulses Guinevere. Guinevere sets her ambitions aside to be what Arthur wants in this novel though, but I thought her words and the attempt were half-hearted because Arthur's rustic dreams strip Guinevere of who she really is: an ambitiously "clever" woman (though manipulative would be a better word). She consents to Arthur's wish of a simple life bereft of power and glory out of some obligation: "I do owe [Arthur] some happiness, do I not?" At another point in this novel, Guinevere asks Bors, Lancelot's champion who defects, whether he too grew bored of Lancelot. Cornwell's Guinevere continues to exhibit a savagery far surpassing men.
'[Christians] all worship motherhood, but they're all as dry as husks...[motherhood is] such a waste of life!' [Guinevere] was bitterly angry now. 'Cows make good mothers and sheep suckle perfectly adequately, so what merit lies in motherhood? Any stupid girl can become a mother! It's all that most of them are fit for! Motherhood isn't an achievement, it's an inevitability! But it was all Arthur wanted me to be! A suckling cow!' --Guinevere
Guinevere finally reveals to Derfel why she wanted Lancelot to be king. In ENEMY OF GOD, Derfel thinks Guinevere may love Lancelot, but the truth is actually worse (in my mind). Guinevere sleeps with Lancelot so she'll have him wrapped around her finger, something she couldn't do with Arthur. "I wanted [Lancelot] to be King because he's a weak man and a woman can only rule in this world through such a feeble man..." Since she was saying all this to Derfel so passionately, was it by her command or acquiescence that sent men to slaughter Derfel's wife and children back in ENEMY OF GOD? Since she can control such a weak man so easily, I couldn't help but wonder if she somehow plotted to have Lancelot rape Derfel's wife and kill his daughters back in ENEMY OF GOD. Is she that naively dumb to believe she'll "control" all the whims of such a weak man once he sits a throne? And if she did agree or command to kill Derfel's family because she so deftly controlled Lancelot then she's worst than Lancelot. Conveniently, it seems Derfel doesn't recall Guinevere's possible involvement in Lancelot's perfidious plans for Derfel's family back in ENEMY OF GOD. Derfel and his men are too enamored (manipulated) by Guinevere here in EXCALIBUR.
Derfel's conversations with Igraine before the beginning of Part One, The Fires of Mai Dun, proved interesting. A very interesting look at love, fidelity and Arthur.
'[Arthur] wanted a free Britain and the Saxons defeated, but in his soul he wanted Guinevere's constant reassurance that he was a good man. And when she slept with Lancelot it proved to Arthur that he was the lesser man. It wasn't true, of course, but it hurt him. How it hurt. I have never seen a man so hurt. Guinevere tore his heart.'
...
'Were you ever unfaithful to Ceinwyn?'
'No,' I answered truthfully.
'Did you ever want to be?'
'Oh, yes. Lust does not vanish with happiness, Lady. Besides, what merit is there in fidelity if it is never tested?'
'You think there is merit in fidelity?' [Igraine] asked...
I smiled. 'We want fidelity in our lovers, Lady, so is it not obvious that they want it in us? Fidelity is a gift we offer to those we love. Arthur gave it to Guinevere, but she cold not return it. She wanted something different.'
'Which was?'
'Glory, and he was ever averse to glory. He achieved it, but he would not revel in it. She wanted an escort of a thousand horsemen, bright banners to fly above her and the whole island of Britain prostrate beneath her. And all he ever wanted was justice and good harvests...' And a free Britain and the Saxons defeated.
Later, Sagramor shares rumors about Arthur remaining faithful to Guinevere even after he renounces her and marries the young Irish princess Argante. Tragic, that he should remain loyal to Guinevere to the last while that fidelity and loyalty wasn't returned.
I found this comment by Culhwch funny:
Nimue screamed as the boy fell, then she leapt at Arthur again with her hands hooked like claws, but Arthur simply backhanded her hard and fast across the head with the flat of his sword blade so that she spun away dazed. The force of the blow could easily be heard above the crackling of flames. Nimue staggered, slack-jawed and with her one eye unfocused, and she dropped.
'Should have done that to Guinevere,' Culhwch growled at me.
More than once, EXCALIBUR (and the other two books as well) describes the feeling in battle, and I thought it was an apt description. The warring doesn't necessarily strip the soul as so many romances would have us believe, it just is. For many men during this time period, it was a way of life.
A terrible hate wells up in battle, a hatred that comes from the dark soul to fill a man with fierce and bloody anger. Enjoyment, too ... Ours was a world where swords gave rank, and to shirk the sword was to lose honor, and so I ran ahead, madness filling my soul and exultation giving me a terrible power as I picked my victims. They were two young men, both smaller than me, both nervous, both with skimpy beards, and both were shrinking away even before I hit them. They saw a British warlord in splendor, and I saw two dead Saxons.
It is the beguiling glory of war, the sheer exhilaration...I watched Arthur, a man as kind as any I have known, and saw nothing but joy in his eyes. Galahad, who prayed each day that he could obey Christ's commandment to love all men, was now killing them with a terrible efficiency. Culhwch was roaring insults. he had discarded his shield so that he could use both hands on his heavy spear. Gwydre was grinning behind his cheekpieces, while Taliesin was singing as he killed the enemy wounded left behind by our advancing shield wall. You do not win the fight of the shield wall by being sensible and moderate, but by a Godlike rush of howling madness.
Friday, October 5, 2007
3:10 to Yuma, directed by James Mangold [2]
**/***** (2/5)
Watching this movie reminded me how much I miss westerns. Although I didn't like the ending and Christian Bale's weak character in Mangold's 3:10 TO YUMA, I enjoyed other parts of it and the music was nice. It felt like a very slick western, which is a novelty these days. I've heard this is a remake of Glen Ford's THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN made in 1957, and though I haven't seen the original, this one is good.
Russel Crowe stars as notorious western outlaw Ben Wade while Christian Bale stars as the honorable and crippled husband Dan Evans in need of funds. Sharpshooter Ben Wade and his redoubtable gang just robbed an armed stage coach carrying the Southern Pacific Railroads payroll. Railroad representative Butterfield recruits paid volunteers to escort Wade to the 3:10 train to Yuma bound for prison. Christian Bale's poor and crippled character Dan Evans joins the escort for 200 dollars. This movie is about this escort while Wade's gang is hot on the trail. Wade himself manages to eliminate a few comprising his escort service and you start to wonder who's the real captive(s) and captor(s). Eventually, the movie turned into a journey of male bonding between Crowe's Wade and Bale's Dan Evans.
I liked the movie, but I thought Christian Bale's Dan Evans was too dumb. Bale's Dan Evans is another one of those "brave and honorable" men who are too dumb. He's crippled, he isn't the gunman Wade and his gang are, and yet he wants to escort Wade for a chance to make his sons proud. Okay, I guess. Crowe's Wade pretty much plays with Christian Bale's Dan Evans the entire movie and while Crowe was enjoying himself, Bale's character was struggling to survive.
If not for the stupid, honorable and meaningless characterization of Bale's Dan Evans, I would have liked this movie more. I miss westerns!
Watching this movie reminded me how much I miss westerns. Although I didn't like the ending and Christian Bale's weak character in Mangold's 3:10 TO YUMA, I enjoyed other parts of it and the music was nice. It felt like a very slick western, which is a novelty these days. I've heard this is a remake of Glen Ford's THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN made in 1957, and though I haven't seen the original, this one is good.
Russel Crowe stars as notorious western outlaw Ben Wade while Christian Bale stars as the honorable and crippled husband Dan Evans in need of funds. Sharpshooter Ben Wade and his redoubtable gang just robbed an armed stage coach carrying the Southern Pacific Railroads payroll. Railroad representative Butterfield recruits paid volunteers to escort Wade to the 3:10 train to Yuma bound for prison. Christian Bale's poor and crippled character Dan Evans joins the escort for 200 dollars. This movie is about this escort while Wade's gang is hot on the trail. Wade himself manages to eliminate a few comprising his escort service and you start to wonder who's the real captive(s) and captor(s). Eventually, the movie turned into a journey of male bonding between Crowe's Wade and Bale's Dan Evans.
I liked the movie, but I thought Christian Bale's Dan Evans was too dumb. Bale's Dan Evans is another one of those "brave and honorable" men who are too dumb. He's crippled, he isn't the gunman Wade and his gang are, and yet he wants to escort Wade for a chance to make his sons proud. Okay, I guess. Crowe's Wade pretty much plays with Christian Bale's Dan Evans the entire movie and while Crowe was enjoying himself, Bale's character was struggling to survive.
If not for the stupid, honorable and meaningless characterization of Bale's Dan Evans, I would have liked this movie more. I miss westerns!
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