Exercise for a Storyteller #5: Play with an Archetype

Understanding the role of archetypes in stories is essential for an aspiring storyteller. Not to be confused with stereotypes, an archetype is a literary term that refers to a “first type” or “fundamental type” of character or other story element. “Damsels in distress” and “knights in shining armor” are typical examples of archetypes found in the legend of King Arthur, which subsequent stories have come to replicate in various forms.

For example, C.S. Lewis has many knights in shining armor in his Chronicles of Narnia, albeit with his own distinct twists. Peter is a perfect example of this. Though a young boy and living in the mid-twentieth century, he is very much a knight, ready and willing to make personal sacrifices to save others. As for damsels in distress, Susan is the only one of his Narnia characters who fits this type, albeit in a spiritual rather than a literal way.

Tolkien also uses many archetypes from King Arthur in his telling of The Lord of the Rings. His truest knight in shining armor is Aragorn, although his entire fellowship—from Frodo to Gimli—could rightly fall into this type. Like Lewis, Tolkien’s a little short on damsels in distress, but he makes ample use of another of my favorite archetypes from King Arthur: the “hero’s dilemma.”

This one refers to when a hero must choose between two opposed, but seemingly equally worthy tasks. For example, should one of Arthur’s knights save a damsel in distress from certain death or catch a villain bound to kill untold numbers? Of course, he would love to do both, but he can’t—that’s the dilemma. 

In The Lord of the Rings, Aragorn faces a hero’s dilemma when he must decide whether to follow after Frodo and Sam and help them destroy the Ring, or try to rescue Merry and Pippin from their Orc captors. The heaviness of this decision weighs on the reader as much as it does on the characters.

(Luckily, for Middle Earth, helping Merry and Pippin in the short term ultimately helps everyone in the long term!)

While there are considerably more than these three archetypes, I find them to be the most useful starting places for my students. No matter what we’re reading, I can ask them a question like, “Is there a knight in shining armor in this story?”

Chances are, if the story is medieval, the answer will be yes. But if the story is more ancient, say a Greek myth or an Aesop fable, then the answer is a lot more nuanced. The same is true with a more modern story.

Take Huck Finn, for example. Is he a knight in shining armor? Though his ragged clothes would suggest otherwise, he does have a lot of the necessary characteristics. After all, he is trying to “rescue” Jim from slavery. Then again, maybe he’s a type of damsel in distress since Jim is rescuing him, too.

The point of asking whether Huck, or any character, is a knight in shining armor is not so much to force him into a box. Rather, it’s to show a child how archetypes define all characters in some way. Once a child understands that archetypes are part of a longstanding pattern in stories, then he can begin to adapt the pattern to his liking.

Here is an example of how I use these archetypes for storytelling in my classroom.

First, I have my students choose one of our two main character archetypes—a knight in shining armor or a damsel in distress—and create a new character based on it. Perhaps the new character will fit the original type closely (think Batman or Lad, a Dog). Or perhaps the new character will completely defy it (think Shrek or Princess Fiona). Either way is fine. As part of that process, I also have them interview their character as described in this previous post.

Once the new character is more or less imagined, I have my students create an archetypical “hero’s dilemma” that suits the character. The magnitude of that dilemma could be as serious as saving a life or as trivial as picking out shoes for prom. Again, it’s totally up to them.

Last of all, I have my students write the scene of their dilemma through the point when their character makes his or her choice. We always share as many stories aloud as possible, and this kind of story is a particularly fun one to listen to as a class. Because it contains a hero’s dilemma, we like voting on whether the hero made the right choice or not. Inevitably, there is a lot of disagreement among us, and that’s a sign that the dilemma was appropriately compelling.

Although it’s unlikely that C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien ever sat down with a teacher and completed an exercise like this, it seems fairly obvious that they were thinking in these terms when they wrote their great stories. No matter the precise method, the aspiring storyteller will benefit tremendously from writing with archetypes.

And it’s fun and easy, too. After all, there’s no need to re-invent the archetype—just play around with it.  

First Image Credit: The Fight in the Queen’s Ante-chamber by Walter Crane, 1911

Second Image Credit: Huckleberry Finn and Jim on Their Raft by E.W. Kemble, 1884

The Story Behind Morgana le Fay

Every year when I teach “The Lady of Shalott” by Alfred Lord Tennyson, my students ask the same questions: Who is the damsel trapped in the tower? Who cursed her? And why?

Their curiosity sparked my own, and I found myself piecing together possible explanations, all of which kept coming back to the infamous Morgana le Fay, evil sorceress and half-sister of King Arthur. I eventually decided to put pen to paper and write what has turned into my first novel.

My story begins with Morgana as a troubled teenager sent off to a nunnery after the murder of her father. Trapped between a thirst for vengeance and the need for forgiveness, she gets swept up in the fate of a young girl named Lilian. Their lives intertwine in a complex quest that ultimately leads to the Island of Shalott.

Though I have stayed true to Arthurian legend, I have developed Morgana’s character and storyline according to my own imagination. Lilian is more of my own making, bearing only a slight resemblance to Tennyson’s famous Lady of Shalott. Nevertheless, I hope he would take my liberal use of his fair damsel as a testament to his enduring legacy.

Likewise, I hope my students and all those who belong to the King Arthur fandom find The Lady of Shalott: A Novel a worthy addition to their library.

The Lady of Shalott #4: Copia Exercise

When I first assigned copia as part of my class’s study of Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem, “The Lady of Shallot,” I only meant for them to work on language expression as a relatively quick warm-up to begin Literature class. That is, I wanted them to rewrite Tennyson’s poem in their own words while staying True to his meaning. As expected, most students wrote their copias in paragraph format.

But a few students took it upon themselves to add the extra challenge of writing in verse. I was amazed as they replicated Tennyson’s language patterns, including his rhyme scheme and meter!

Next thing I knew, everyone was trying to do the same thing with their copias. Our “little” writing warm-up had turned into something gigantic. We ended up using entire class periods to annotate and rewrite single stanzas. It looked something like this:

10 minutes discussing the stanza and marking up Tennyson’s original ideas. We would come up with synonyms, unpack symbolism, and unveil as much hidden meaning as we could.

10 minutes to rewrite the stanza as a single sentence. Our goal was to not only illustrate comprehension of Tennyson’s meaning, but to represent it in a beautiful, artistic way.

15 minutes to rewrite the stanza in poetic form. Once again, our goal was to stay true to Tennyson’s original meaning, but we also wanted to capture his rhyme scheme and meter.

10 minutes for students to share their copias, which most were eager to do. They would applaud one another’s readings with “ooohs” and “aaaahs” and “wows,” secretly hoping theirs would outshine the rest. It was a little like an evening at a poetry club.

Since that first group of students, I have played around with how to structure class periods, but I have stuck with the basic method of instruction. From year-to-year, the end products are consistently beautiful.

The following examples are based on Part III, Stanza I of the poem, which introduces Sir Lancelot. Here are Tennyson’s original words.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel’d
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.

Once we analyzed the stanza, students were ready to rewrite it as a single sentence.

Here are three short student copias.

EXAMPLE ONE

Sir Lancelot, graced with honor and beauty, flashed across her mirror.

EXAMPLE TWO

She saw a man unlike any other, more handsome and noble, and she longed to reach out to him.

EXAMPLE THREE

The mighty Sir Lancelot emblazed his image on her heart.

Here are three long student copias.

EXAMPLE ONE

In the mirror sparkling clear,
Between the barley far and near,
Between the many emerald tears,
Came he whose very name is feared,
The knight Sir Lancelot.
His shield shone with an image clear,
Of a red-crossed knight with gleaming spear,
Who knelt before his lady dear,
As if for she he fought.

EXAMPLE TWO

From further than the longest night,
Came man on horseback riding light,
A young, handsome, and noble knight,
Not strong in virtue but strong in fight,
The bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight forever sworn
To protecting all by word and sword,
There she stood and could not ignore,
The bold Sir Lancelot.

EXAMPLE THREE

When he rides it gives a fright,
One of Arthur’s near-perfect knights,
They say he’s never lost a fight,
Could cut you down with a single strike,
The brave Sir Lancelot.
She reflects upon his armor’s sheen,
She looks at how his broad sword gleams,
She knows not that her face does beam,
The Lady of Shalott.

Not surprisingly, each copia example reflects a considerable investment of time and energy by the student. Though the writing came easier for some than others, all had to carefully work through the process.

What may be surprising is that each of the students experienced tremendous joy and satisfaction in the midst of toiling through the writing. Of course they were happy when they were done, but so too were they excited as they worked. And that makes for beautiful poetry.

The Lady of Shalott #3: Memory Work

No matter how well versed my students are in memory work, long narrative poems tend to be a source of anxiety—but only at first. Such is the case with Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem, “The Lady of Shallot” At nineteen stanzas long with nine verses each, it is little wonder my students look downcast when I first tell them we will be memorizing the whole thing.

“That’s a sha-lot of words,” a student once quipped.

Nevertheless, within the first week or so, a sense of pride and accomplishment takes over. Students realize that long memory work is no different than short memory work, provided it is done in a well-paced, strategic manner. Then by the end, they shrug off the assignment like it was no big deal. Of course, that’s not really the case. The work is hard and even relentless, but it stops feeling that way once they understand how to manage it.

But why take on such a big project in the first place? In a world where information is readily available with the swipe of a finger or the tap of a keyboard, why should students invest time in committing anything, let alone a poem about a fictional character, to memory anyways?

As classical educators have long held, the reasons are many!

To begin with, memorizing poetry provides students with a ready store of language patterns to draw from. I have seen this firsthand over and over again. After committing a poem to memory, student writing will showcase many of the new patterns, not to mention a huge stockpile of new vocabulary words.

Similarly, memory work deepens student understanding of the material and allows them to engage it in a more meaningful way than simply reading it and discussing it. By spending so much time imprinting the words into their minds, they come to embody the ideas behind them.

Philosophically speaking, the poems become a type of music for their souls that will stay with them throughout their lives.

“All that is well and good,” one might say, “but give me a more scientific justification!”

Well, here is one. Memory work strengthens the brain and makes it more agile for all sorts of other work. Many of us know this through our own experience. Just think of all the phone numbers your mother stored in her memory before the age of cellphones on top of the endless doctor’s appointments and soccer practices and birthdays and so forth. Compared to a lot of us today, she would be considered a savant. Yet, all she was really doing was making her brain work. The more it worked at memorizing information, the better it got at it.

Research backs this up as well. Take a look at Benedict Carey’s book, How We Learn: The Surprising Truth about When, Where, and Why It Happens. He draws together a vast array of research that shows how the brain gets stronger as it commits more things to memory. What’s more, the possibilities of what and how much one can memorize are seemingly endless.

That brings us to the question of how students should memorize “The Lady of Shalott.” I recommend using a variety of strategies, all of which should be led by the teacher and reinforced at home.

A Little at a Time

The first and most fundamental is chunking the poem into smaller sections. That makes it much more manageable for students because they can work on memorizing a little at a time. “The Lady of Shalott” has four parts, with four stanzas in the first, four in the second, five in the third, and six in the fourth.  As such, I have the class memorize one part at a time and end up with four quizzes throughout the duration of our study. I use the strategies below for each part.

Recite. Recite. Recite.

For several days, we simply recite an entire part of the poem together as a class. They may have a copy out to read along or just listen and join in by ear. Either way, students gain an initial understanding of how the poem sounds and grow accustomed to its rhythm and melody.

Sometimes we recite as a single voice. Other times, I say a line and they repeat it. Still other times, I say the beginning of a line, and they finish it. I like using a combination of these approaches because it forces students to attend more closely to what they are saying. As we get more comfortable, I begin calling on students to lead the class through similar practice.

This type of repeated recitation is absolutely essential in memory work. As such, I encourage students to do similar work at home. Some, however, do not end up needing to do any because the classroom practice is enough.

Memory Moves

The next step is to ask students to come up with motions to go along with the poem. It might seem a little silly at first, especially for older students, but it is a dynamic way for them to visually imagine the story behind the poem and cue their memory in the process. Plus, it tends to be a lot of fun!

To that end, we line up around the classroom, and I assign a couple verses each to pairs of students, being sure to match the order of the verses with their line order. They come up with some kind of “move,” like spreading their arms wide as if they were separating water when they say, “On either side of the river lie.”

After the first pair teaches its move to the rest of the class, the second group goes. Then, we put it all together—words and moves—from the beginning. We repeat this process until we get through the whole poem.

By the end, students have a strong association between the moves and the words, which is mutually reinforcing. I always smile to myself when I see them quietly wriggling their bodies in recollection when it comes time for a quiz.

Writing Makes Perfect

The final step is helping students learn to write it out in proper poetic format, meaning they separate the verses and stanzas appropriately. For this, I have students number each verse in the stanza 1-9 and so forth. I give them the first word or two on the board, and they fill in whatever else they can remember.

This is always harder than the oral recitation, largely because it is completed independently. Students who think they know the whole thing soon realize they don’t. As such, it’s an important “check-point.” We write out the poem many times, and students remember more and more with each practice.

When quiz time rolls around, most students ace it, and of them do well.

The Lady of Shalott #2: Literary Analysis

The Lady of Shallot” by Alfred Lord Tennyson is a narrative poem, which simply means it’s a poem that tells a story. It is made up of verses, which are single lines, and stanzas, which are groupings of lines.

Tennyson divided the entire poem into four parts that transition through the plot, beginning with the exposition, moving onto the inciting incident, up through the climax, and back down to its resolution.

Tennyson draws from Arthurian legend but builds on it at the same time. Indeed, his leading lady is unique to the poem. She is a symbolic representation of an artist, perhaps even Tennyson himself.

Literal Interpretation

PART I: EXPOSITION – THE BACKGROUND

Here Tennyson presents Camelot as the setting for his poem. In keeping with the traditions of Arthurian legend, it is an idyllic kingdom with a beautiful natural landscape divided in half by a flowing river. The mysterious Island of Shalott and its tall grey tower stand strong against the current, presenting an image that is at once part of, yet separate from everything else. It is believed that a fair damsel is imprisoned in the tower, but none have visited it to be sure. Only fieldworkers can attest to her existence because they have heard her singing in the early mornings.

PART II: INCITING INCIDENT – THE PROBLEM

In this section, Tennyson takes us inside the tower and reveals the Lady of Shalott. He tells us she is cursed to live there and weave a never-ending tapestry of everything going on in the world outside. As such, she cannot participate in what she sees. To make matters worse, she does not even get to look at the world directly through the window. Instead, she must look at it through a mirror. The images then, beautiful as they may be, are really no more than shadows. She delights in them nonetheless, only occasionally feeling left out when she watches happy couples in love.

PART III: CLIMAX – THE BREAKING POINT

The difficulty of being set apart from the world reaches a breaking point when the Lady of Shalott sees an image of the handsome Sir Lancelot riding across her mirror. She is so captivated by him that she notices every last detail of his person. In fact, Tennyson uses four whole stanzas to describe his appearance. In the fifth and final stanza of this section, the Lady of Shalott cannot take it anymore. She has to see him directly—not as a reflection or a shadow, but as a real-life person. No sooner does she turn away from the mirror and look at him through the window, then her tapestry disappears, and she is doomed to death. “The curse is come upon me,” she cries.

PART IV: RESOLUTION – THE “FIX” (OR LACK THEREOF)

Knowing her end is imminent, the Lady of Shalott descends the tower and finds a boat to serve as her funeral barge. She lies down, placing a name plate upon her chest, and floats down the river toward Camelot. All of nature is wrought with grief as she slowly dies. A storm rises up; the trees turn pale; and the banks complain with its crashing waves. All the while, the Lady of Shalott sings her last song, marked with sadness and grief. When her boat finally runs ashore, the people discover her dead body and learn her identity. Sir Lancelot, ever the heart-breaker, remarks how lovely she is and asks God to bestow a blessing upon her.

Figurative Interpretation

As if its literal meaning is not fascinating enough on its own, Tennyson has written much symbolism into his poem. He tells us (between the lines) that the Lady of Shalott symbolizes the artist.

Both are tasked with the special job of representing Goodness, Beauty, and Truth in the world. The Lady of Shalott does so through her tapestry, while other artists might do so through a variety of mediums like drawing, writing, and singing. Obviously, some artists are better than others, and the best ones are able to look at the world with objectivity. Put differently, the better an artist is able to see things through the eyes of God—our first artist and ultimate judge—the better he is able to represent it in his work.

Herein lies a central point. Goodness, Beauty, and Truth are not relative terms or values, nor are they subjective. Likewise, they do not change with the times like fashion trends. They are objective virtues, meant to be obtained in absolute perfection.

The Lady of Shalott knows this. Thus, to be a good artist and maintain her objectivity, she must be set apart from everyone and everything. The moment she engages the world directly by looking out the window, she forms her own subjective view, which is entirely focused on Sir Lancelot. She no longer notices the willows, or the aspens, or the little breezes. Nor does she see Sir Lancelot in his fullness, meaning what his soul looks like on the inside. Instead, she fixates on his handsome good looks, while failing to unmask his vices.

Though we may feel happy for her that she is free from the tower, she has become imprisoned anew with her own subjectivity. Tennyson tells us that as she floats down the river, “Her eyes were darkened wholly.” Thus, she loses her vision, both literally and figuratively, and dies.

One must wonder if Tennyson felt a little like the Lady of Shalott. Perhaps we all do at times. Indeed, my students often find similarities with their own lives. They note how music and movies and other realities of contemporary society can weaken their ability to see the difference between right and wrong, virtue and vice. The more they are exposed to certain things, the less they are able to judge them fairly.

Each of us, artists in our ways, continually struggle to reconcile the pressures of the world and the demands of our unique callings. Unlike the Lady of Shalott, however, we are not doomed, for we have the blessing of free will to navigate our way.

The Lady of Shalott #1

I first read “The Lady of Shallot” by Alfred Lord Tennyson when I was a high school sophomore. My teacher assigned it as reading homework one evening, and then we discussed it in class together the next day. My interest piqued as she explained the story and broke down its symbolism. There was so much more going on with the enchanted damsel trapped in the tower than what I had been able to grasp on my own. All the while, her image kept staring out at me from the textbook, beckoning me to take a closer look.

“The Lady of Shalott” by John Waterhouse (1888)

It was a two-day study, but it stayed with me over the years. Maybe it was the melodious refrain of the poem that echoed in my mind. Maybe it was the tragic idea of one dying upon entering into the world. Maybe it was the look of anguish in the painting. Whatever it was, I reflected back on “The Lady of Shalott” from time to time before I became a teacher myself and selected it as a poetic companion to my class’s study of Roger Lancelyn Green’s King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table.

Drawing from the traditions of classical education, I spend significantly more time working on the poem with my students than I did back in high school. We discuss it, memorize it, and rewrite it over the course of two months. In the end, we have an incredible portfolio of assignments, not to mention an unforgettable encounter with a timeless poem.

Over the next few weeks, I will present a series that explains my classical approach to teaching “The Lady of Shalott.” It is broken down into the following segments.

I. Literary Analysis

II. Memory Work

III. Copia Work

I hope it may prove useful to students, parents, educators, and poetry lovers in general.

The Legend of King Arthur #7: Debates

Debates are an extremely valuable classical exercise. I use them at the conclusion of reading because students can weigh all of the story and the Socratic discussion we enjoyed along the way in order to sharpen their own ideas on a particular question.

Put differently, debates give students a chance to deeply contemplate and form an argument in a personal way. In other words, they learn to develop a thesisClassically speaking, they are coming to know and embody a Truth.

We divide our debates into three rounds: opening (present story context and thesis), position (make argument), and rebuttal (attack opposing view).

Once the debates are concluded, students are then ready to formally write their ideas in essays, which turn out beautifully. Pretty much across the board, this approach makes for essays that are much stronger and more well-thought-out than before I started using debates as a pre-writing activity.

Plus, the students love it!   

Here is a quick summary of three popular debate questions. They are written as such that either side could win; it all depends on which one makes the better argument.  

Debate Question One: Is King Arthur a righteous king?  

Proposition: Yes! 

This side lists out all of Arthur’s good qualities, moving from the literal (i.e., creating the Code of Chivalry) to the figurative (i.e., striving to be humble).

Then they move on to explain how this is connected to righteousness in his person and in his kingdom. They define righteousness as the desire and will to do what is right in God’s eyes. Based on this definition, they say Arthur always tries to do so.

Finally, they argue that his imperfections do not outweigh the goodness he showed throughout his whole life. Even when he failed, his desire was to do good. He simply did not always know what the right course of action was because some of the issues, like the affair, were so complicated. Plus, Arthur is on his way to Heaven at the end of the book. 

Opposition: No! 

This side focuses on Arthur’s weaknesses, also moving from the literal (i.e., his handling of the affair) to the figurative (i.e., demonstrating pride and anger).

Then they move on to argue that his vices outweigh his virtues, primarily because he died heavily laden with vice. Using the same definition of righteousness above, they argue that the desire to do what is right is not enough. It must be coupled with the will, and Arthur’s will for revenge after the affair blinded him from seeing the world through God’s eyes.

In the rebuttal, they acknowledge Arthur’s good side, but point out that the “grievous wound” in his soul holds him back from going straight to heaven. If he was righteous in life, he would have not have needed Purgatory.  

Debate Question Two: Do Guinevere and Lancelot really love each other?  

Proposition: Yes! 

This side typically begins by painting a picture of Guinevere’s marriage to Arthur as one-sided. Arthur wanted to marry Guinevere, so she had to marry him. Lancelot, on the other hand, was the object of her free will.

In the second round, they address our class definition of love, which is wanting the ultimate good for another. They argue that even though pursuing their love in a secret affair may not have been the best for either of them, they were trying their best given the circumstances. Neither one could very well tell Arthur what was going on without committing treason and breaking his heart.

Furthermore, they both repent of the sin of adultery in the final years of their lives. Guinevere enters a nunnery; Lancelot enters the priesthood. Both remain devoted to each other, but to God first. In this way, they want the ultimate good for one another by praying for their mutual redemption.  

Opposition: No! 

This side also starts off by describing Guinevere’s marriage to Arthur. However, in contrast to the proposition side, they argue that Guinevere did not have to accept his proposal. Arthur never forced his will on anyone, not even an enemy, so he would hardly have done so on the woman he loved.

Furthermore, Guinevere seems happily married for many years, and Arthur appears to be a good, devoted husband. As such, the opposition side concludes that Guinevere’s interest in Lancelot was unjustifiably selfish and the product of lust, not love.

From here, they move onto our definition of love, arguing that Guinevere could not have wanted the ultimate good for Lancelot if she was willing for him to risk his honor as a knight and betray the trust of the Round Table, for such would hurt him both in life and in death.

In their rebuttal, they congratulate Lancelot and Guinevere for wanting redemption, but lambast them for having the affair in the first place, which they knew was wrong. If they truly loved each other, they would have kept their distance.   

Debate Question Three: What brought down the Realm of Logres—the affair or the plots of Mordred?  

Proposition: The Affair! 

This side begins by describing the affair between Lancelot and Guinevere, noting that it was a constant, ever-growing stain on the realm that was bound to bring about destruction.

In the second round, this side typically explains the nature of sin itself. They focus on how venial sins, if left unchecked and unforgiven, grow into mortal sins. Further, they argue that sin hurts not only the sinner and its object, but the world more broadly. Such was the case with Lancelot and Guinevere. Their sin of adultery reverberated throughout the entire kingdom.

Finally, while Mordred may have started the battle that ended Logres, it was the affair that gave him the opportunity.  

Opposition: Mordred! 

This side likes to focus on Mordred’s character in its opening. They point out that as the son of Morgana, he was born with a hatred for Arthur and a desire to bring about his downfall. Thus, his goal was precisely that which occurs.

In the second round, they argue that from the time of his emergence in the story, he was lying in wait for his chance. In fact, it was he who exposed the affair and brought it to Arthur’s attention. Other knights knew what was going on, but Mordred was the only one who took action because he was self-interested in its revelation.

In the rebuttal round, they argue that Mordred would have found a way to accomplish his designs even without the affair. He is pure evil. 

The Legend of King Arthur #6: Plot Summary

In a literary sense, plot refers to a series of causally-related events that revolve around a central problem, rise to a climax, and ultimately come to a resolution. Roger Lancelyn Green followed this classical plot structure in his version of the legend of King Arthur, while also ensuring that it maintained its traditional connections to the Bible. Each plot element outlined below has a direct and deliberate connection to salvation history.   

Try following allow by filling in this plot diagram. Or use this complete one as a quick reference. I am also sharing my chapter journal questions that deal with specifics of the plot.

Exposition 

Another word for exposition is setting. The setting for King Arthur, then, is Britain sometime after the fall of the Roman Empire but before the full onset of the Middle Ages. Here we see a match-up between actual history and the legend since Britain at that time really was ruled by various barbarian groups, most famously the Saxons, who lacked a codified rule of law. Moreover, as barbarians, they lacked a Christian worldview and the order it imparts.

Arthur becomes king in this context and thus begins unifying the people of Logres into a Realm of Righteousness and turning it into a type of “Garden of Eden.”  

Inciting Incident  

The inciting incident is the problem that sets the plot in motion. Put differently, it is an event of such great proportions that it fundamentally alters the world of the story and must be played out to its fullest extent. The dolorous stroke is the inciting incident of King Arthur. In a literal sense, the dolorous stroke refers to when Sir Balyn struck King Pelles, maiming him and his kingdom beyond the powers of human healing.

Figuratively, it matches up to the fall of Adam and symbolizes the entry of sin. All of Arthur’s efforts will revolve around trying to ward off the ill effects of the dolorous stroke and restore Logres as a Realm of Righteousness.  

Rising Action  

King Arthur sends his knights on quest after quest to right the wrongs in his kingdom. The quests are wrought with great peril, but the Knights of the Round Table continually emerge victorious because of their great skill at arms and virtuous souls. This dramatic climb eventually comes to a head with the onset of the quest for the Holy Grail.

Literally, the Holy Grail is the cup from which Christ drank at the Last Supper. Figuratively, it represents the source of healing for Logres, or the means by which it can once again be a Realm of Righteousness. Try as they might, none of the knights are virtuous enough to achieve the quest.    

Climax  

Enter Sir Galahad, the “holy knight of Logres.” As explained in the character sketches, he is a Messianic figure. Like Christ, he is the only one who can “drink the cup” of the Holy Grail and heal the sinful effects of the dolorous stroke. His life’s purpose is accomplished at the conclusion of the quest, which is the climax, and so he dies and goes to Heaven.

It should be noted that Galahad objectively defeats sin, but he cannot subjectively defeat it for everyone else. Through him, it is possible for Logres to once again be a Realm of Righteousness, but it is up to each individual to make it that way.  

Falling Action  

Sometimes referred to as the “unravelling,” the falling action is typically a quick descent in the drama that seems almost without control. Here, we focus on the affair between Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere. The illicit nature of their relationship permeates the story, but only reveals itself in all its ugliness at this point. The couple gets swept up in their romance, leaves caution to wind, and gets discovered.

Urged on by Sir Mordred, though without the approval of Sir Gawain, King Arthur deals swiftly with the treason. Sir Lancelot manages to escape, but as Arthur’s enemy.  

Resolution  

King Arthur learns too late that Sir Mordred was using the affair as a way to break the trust of the Round Table and elevate himself to the throne. Thus ensues a great battle between Arthur and Mordred, the latter of whom succeeds in turning many of the Knights of the Round Tables.

Arthur receives a grievous wound in the battle, which may or may not have killed him—the mystery makes for a great debate! In any event, his wound is largely symbolic as it represents the presence of vice in his life.

At this point, Morgana reemerges to “heal” Arthur in the mysterious Vale of Avalon, a place akin to purgatory. My students always feel a little let down by this resolution, so some prefer to call it an antiresolution. After all, it seems like Arthur is dead and the Realm of Righteousness is defeated once and for all. 

Yet, a figurative interpretation gives us a different spin. Arthur lives on not only through the endurance of the story, but also through eternal life. He may not have been perfect, but he was able to subjectively win a place in Purgatory, the gateway to Heaven, thanks to Galahad’s objective victory over sin and death.

Finally and perhaps obviously, the last battle is comparable to the apocalypse. It is the end of the “world” of Logres, but also the final entry point into eternity, the true Realm of Righteousness.   

The Legend of King Arthur #5: Character Sketches

I always have my students develop “sketches” of the most important characters in the legend of King Arthur. Before I finish giving instructions on this, some number of them start taking out their coloring pouches to draw pictures.

That can be a lot of fun, but the real point of a character sketch, as I explain, is to write such a good description of a character that the words “draw a picture” in the reader’s mind. We focus not just on what the characters look like physically, but on what they look like spiritually with regard to virtue and vice.

In this way, we marry the literal and figurative aspects of the quests. Of course, they all want to draw pictures, too, so the outcome is truly beautiful and insightful. Depending on what version of the book you read, these descriptions could vary a lot.

King Arthur

As the central character of the story, it is important to give a lot of thought to King Arthur’s sketch. Most of my students favor him, though some do not. Either view is perfectly fine, provided students can back it up.

Generally, we focus on Arthur’s struggle between the virtue of humility and the vice of pride. Our definitions are religious, with humility referring to accepting one’s weaknesses before God and pride referring to believing one can do something without God. All of Arthur’s strength as king and legitimacy to rule flows from his devotion to God.

For example, when he succeeds in pulling the sword from the stone and proving himself the true-born king of Britain at the outset of the story, it is not simply because of his birthright but also because it is an act of humility in service of his step-brother, Kay. Arthur’s calling as ruler of the Realm of Logres is to give glory to God, not to himself.

Moreover, he designs the code of chivalry as a means for his knights to balance their own struggle between pride and humility. Put differently, it teaches his knights that strength, whether it be in arms or spirit, is only found in service to God and others.

Finally, Arthur’s “undoing” in the aftermath of Queen Guinevere’s affair with Sir Lancelot also reflects this struggle. A key question for students is whether Arthur honored God or himself in his handling of the affair.

Merlin

Merlin is one of the most magical characters in the legend. He sees and knows everything, or near everything, about King Arthur and the Realm of Logres. He uses this knowledge along with his sorcery to impart wisdom on Arthur, but he never tells him what to do.

Merlin’s relationship with Arthur is much like that of a parent to a child. He tries his best to prepare Arthur for the trials of his kingship, but he knows that he cannot rule for him. In fact, Merlin goes to his “deep sleep” very early on in the story and leaves Arthur to rule according to his own judgment.

The virtue and vice paradigm does not really work for Merlin since he has an other-worldly, super-human quality about himself. Instead, it is helpful to think of him as a type of prophet set apart from the world.

Guinevere

The context of Lady Guinevere’s marriage to King Arthur is fairly ambiguous in Green’s version. She seems to be pretty young, and she does not seem to have much of a choice in the matter. Nevertheless, she also seems happily married to him, at least until Sir Lancelot joins the Knights of the Round Table.

At that point, her head is turned and the seeds of her infidelity are sown. She makes open advances toward Lancelot, who both encourages and resists them in turn. Some of my students see her as a “victim” in a forced marriage, but most see her as a terrible cheat and refuse to justify her actions.

Guinevere’s struggle is between the virtue of purity, which is living in a state of grace, and the vice of impurity, which is falling from grace. We debate Guinevere’s affair and the “pureness” of her love for Lancelot extensively.

Gawain

Sir Gawain is King Arthur’s nephew and most loyal knight. He is immensely devoted to Arthur, offering him his very life over and over again.

He initially struggles with chivalry, and therefore makes his life’s mission an attempt to prove himself worthy of the Round Table. He is most well-known for his quest with the Green Knight, which revolves around the virtue of valor, or courage with honor. He also marries an Old Hag in order to honor his word, which turns out pretty nicely for him in the end!

His greatest challenge comes during the Guinevere-Lancelot affair. He struggles with how to obey his king while also obeying his conscience. While Gawain’s character touches on many virtues, he is most focused on honor, which means being true to God.

My students grow to love Gawain, no doubt because he faces and overcomes so many grave challenges. But when he messes up, they are all the more disappointed in him.

Lancelot

In contrast to Sir Gawain who works very hard for his virtue, Sir Lancelot seems to live a charmed life. He is the “best knight” of the Round Table, complete with superior battle skills, good looks, and a spotless character—that is, until he meets Queen Guinevere.

From that moment on, Lancelot is tormented by impure thoughts. He thus begins leading a double-life. Outwardly, he appears as upright as ever. But inwardly, he falls further and further from grace. It proves impossible, even for the mighty Lancelot, to lead a life of such contradiction, and he eventually fully succumbs to the vice of impurity and has an affair with Guinevere.

My students are always torn between feelings of deep disgust and pity. His character, noble in so many ways, is truly tragic.

Galahad

Lancelot bequeathed the good side of his character to his son, Sir Galahad, who was born out of wedlock when the Lady Elaine bewitched Lancelot into believing she was Guinevere. Despite this questionable action by Elaine, she claims holy lineage as a descendant of Joseph of Arimathea, which no doubt predisposes Galahad for goodness.

In fact, Galahad is the only knight who proves stronger in might and virtue than Lancelot. Moreover, he is a messianic character fated to achieve the quest of the Holy Grail, which will be discussed in the next post.

My students always admire Galahad, but his perfection makes him a little harder to relate to on a human level.

Morgana 

Morgana is King Arthur’s older half-sister and nemesis. Green’s version of the legend does not explain Morgana ‘s hatred, but there is certainly plenty of “history” we can read into.

Most significantly, Arthur’s father, Uther Pendragon, murdered Morgana’s father and then married her mother. That probably started things off on the wrong foot! In any event, Morgana was sent away to a nunnery as a young girl, but she somehow got secretly mixed up in the black arts. She hence becomes a powerful sorceress intent on bringing about the downfall of Arthur.

Morgana nevertheless disappears early on in the book only to reappear in the final chapter as a virtuous aid to Arthur. The reasons for her conversion are even more ambiguous than the reasons for her prior evil ways.

Incidentally, she’s the lead character in my book, which tries to fill in the details…

Mordred

Son of Morgana and King Lot, Mordred is pure evil. He takes after his mother and desires to bring about the downfall of Arthur so he can rule the Realm of Logres.

He only appears in the final chapters of the book when he forces the affair between Lancelot and Guinevere into the open and pressures King Arthur to sentence them to death. His intentions are totally insincere, however, because he seeks vengeance, not justice. He wants to elevate himself, not serve his king. This becomes apparent, but not until the kingdom has erupted into full-blown civil war between his side and Arthur’s.

In Green’s version, Mordred is entirely unsympathetic and without redemption. Other versions paint his story and lineage differently. For example, in one, Mordred is the son of Morgana and Arthur, which can be confusing and troubling for students!

The Legend of King Arthur #4: Archetypes

An archetype is a literary term that refers to a “first type” or “fundamental type” of character or other story element. Part of what makes the legend of King Arthur so important is that it created many archetypes that permeate our society today, especially in the superhero genre.   

Knight in Shining Armor 

My students always have a good idea of what a knight in shining armor is well before we begin reading King Arthur. They know it refers to a hero, typically male, who swoops in to save someone in danger, even at great peril to himself.

When we go a little deeper, they quickly recognize the symbolism of his “shining armor.” It is not simply that the knight is supposed to be glamorously good-looking (which doesn’t hurt), but also that he is a model of virtue. His goodness shines forth and shields him from badness.

I love questioning my students, especially the girls, about whether they believe a knight in shining armor really exists. Even at their young age, they mostly say “no” with a sigh. But once they start learning about the actual knights from the legend, wrought with all their imperfections and yet always seeking virtue, they begin to see the archetype as the only ambition for a man!  

Damsel in Distress 

The definition of a damsel in distress is almost too obvious at first. It refers to a person, typically a female, who is utterly incapable of saving herself from disaster and must therefore rely on the chivalrous rescue of a knight in shining armor. Que the romance music, and the two end up happily ever after.

This is one of the more difficult archetypes for our modern sensibilities. At first glimpse, it positions women as being weaker than and therefore dependent on men, which is not a popular idea these days.

However, that is not exactly a correct interpretation of the medieval gender roles the archetype reflects. Women in the Middle Ages were very much likened to the Virgin Mary. Just as all men should revere Mary, so too should they serve a worthy reflection of her on earth. The damsel in distress, then, was placed on a pedestal that made her greater than the man, even if weaker in physical abilities.

In the medieval worldview, men and women were not meant to be equal in their sameness but in their complementarity 

Hero’s Dilemma 

Much of the dramatic conflict in the legend of King Arthur revolves around the hero’s dilemma, which on a basic level, describes when a knight meets two people in need of rescue but cannot save both. Typically, one person is someone he loves, and the other is a stranger. He must, therefore, choose between serving his own desires or suppressing them.

The hero’s dilemma also repeatedly plays out in a figurative sense through the struggle between virtue (serving God) and vice (serving self).

The most extreme hero’s dilemma revolves around Arthur. When he learns of the love affair between Queen Guinevere and Sir Lancelot, he must choose between sentencing her to death as prescribed by the laws he created and governs, or letting her go free. (Lancelot escapes arrest and so is not sentenced.) In other words, he wrestles with saving his “family” or his “kingdom.” This is an impossible choice because Arthur loves them both!

Dilemmas such as these make for thoroughly enjoyable and insightful classroom debates.