Women in Arthurian Literature

Taken as a whole, the Arthurian legend hardly inspires admiration for women. Throughout the many centuries of literary treatments, readers may encounter considerable difficulty discerning a female character of any significance who proves to be morally good. This is not simply because of the central plot structure of a love triangle in which one woman's infidelity is the deciding factor in the destinies of two sympathetic men. In Gottfried's Tristan, the ostensible heroine actually conspires to murder a faithful servant who had sacrificed her virginity for her. In Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, woman appears as one long sexual snare in which every gift received must be repaid in kind to a pagan nature god. Marie de France, whom one might expect to demonstrate some sympathy for another woman, gives us possibly the most jaded description of Guinevere in the literature in “The Lay of Sir Launfal,” creating a sexual predator without conscience. Malory finds a few opportunities in his mammoth work to present appealing women, but lost as they are amidst a bevy of rapacious seductresses, scheming enchantresses, and unreasonable harpies, the odds of encountering them do not appear promising. Twain uses women for comic relief (Sandy, 19) or moral outrage (Morgan, 26) before lapsing at the end into questionable sentiment. White offers the most sympathetic portrayal of the Queen, but compensates with a horrifying Morgause of capricious venom.

But of all these classic re-tellings of the saga, none match the apparent misogyny of Tennyson's Idylls of the King. Idyll after idyll attributes moral collapse on both an individual as well as national scale to womanhood — either directly, through female action, or indirectly, through male dependence on the female. This endless attribution of blame combines with a judgmental tone of almost Old Testament severity which the poetry wears like a starched collar. The end result, to many twentieth century readers, is off-putting at best and infuriating at worst. Not surprisingly, much of the recent literary criticism on Tennyson focuses on “patriarchy” and treats both the idylls and their author harshly. Yet contemporary readers often simplify Tennyson's work by obscuring the ways in which the idylls challenge Victorian assumptions. Inevitably, one's reaction to the idylls will depend on the extent to which one sees Tennyson's apparent moral judgments moving beyond the Victorian social prejudices of his day, rather than simply paralleling them.

Of all the moral pronouncements in the idylls, the most strident occur in “Guinevere.” Arthur's berating of his contrite queen appears divided between cold censure, simplistic romanticizing, messianic self-aggrandizement, and maudlin self-pity. Each of these may discomfort the reader; in combination, they are almost insufferable. Critics suggest different motivations for this passage. Richard Sylvia writes, “Arthur's condemnation represents the public attack from which Guinevere fled, the open wrath she feared. His is the ultimate intrusion as he lambasts her with Modred's revolt and the battle with Lancelot. . . . The terror of his overstatement shocks” (27). In some ways, this is satisfying. When Arthur ...