In Marion Zimmer Bradley's masterpiece, we see the tumult and adventures of Camelot's court through the eyes of the women who bolstered the king's rise and schemed for his fall. From their childhoods through the ultimate fulfillment of their destinies, we follow these women and the diverse cast of characters that surrounds them as the great Arthurian epic unfolds stunningly before us. As Morgaine and Gwenhwyfar struggle for control over the fate of Arthur's kingdom, as the Knights of the Round Table take on their infamous quest, as Merlin and Viviane wield their magics for the future of Old Britain, the Isle of Avalon slips further into the impenetrable mists of memory, until the fissure between old and new worlds' and old and new religions' claims its most famous victim.
Marion Eleanor Zimmer Bradley was an American author of fantasy novels such as The Mists of Avalon and the Darkover series, often with a feminist outlook.
Bradley's first published novel-length work was Falcons of Narabedla, first published in the May 1957 issue of Other Worlds. When she was a child, Bradley stated that she enjoyed reading adventure fantasy authors such as Henry Kuttner, Edmond Hamilton, and Leigh Brackett, especially when they wrote about "the glint of strange suns on worlds that never were and never would be." Her first novel and much of her subsequent work show their influence strongly.
Early in her career, writing as Morgan Ives, Miriam Gardner, John Dexter, and Lee Chapman, Marion Zimmer Bradley produced several works outside the speculative fiction genre, including some gay and lesbian pulp fiction novels. For example, I Am a Lesbian was published in 1962. Though relatively tame by today's standards, they were considered pornographic when published, and for a long time she refused to disclose the titles she wrote under these pseudonyms.
Her 1958 story The Planet Savers introduced the planet of Darkover, which became the setting of a popular series by Bradley and other authors. The Darkover milieu may be considered as either fantasy with science fiction overtones or as science fiction with fantasy overtones, as Darkover is a lost earth colony where psi powers developed to an unusual degree. Bradley wrote many Darkover novels by herself, but in her later years collaborated with other authors for publication; her literary collaborators have continued the series since her death.
Bradley took an active role in science-fiction and fantasy fandom, promoting interaction with professional authors and publishers and making several important contributions to the subculture.
For many years, Bradley actively encouraged Darkover fan fiction and reprinted some of it in commercial Darkover anthologies, continuing to encourage submissions from unpublished authors, but this ended after a dispute with a fan over an unpublished Darkover novel of Bradley's that had similarities to some of the fan's stories. As a result, the novel remained unpublished, and Bradley demanded the cessation of all Darkover fan fiction.
Bradley was also the editor of the long-running Sword and Sorceress anthology series, which encouraged submissions of fantasy stories featuring original and non-traditional heroines from young and upcoming authors. Although she particularly encouraged young female authors, she was not averse to including male authors in her anthologies. Mercedes Lackey was just one of many authors who first appeared in the anthologies. She also maintained a large family of writers at her home in Berkeley. Ms Bradley was editing the final Sword and Sorceress manuscript up until the week of her death in September of 1999.
Probably her most famous single novel is The Mists of Avalon. A retelling of the Camelot legend from the point of view of Morgaine and Gwenhwyfar, it grew into a series of books; like the Darkover series, the later novels are written with or by other authors and have continued to appear after Bradley's death.
Her reputation has been posthumously marred by multiple accusations of child sexual abuse by her daughter Moira Greyland, and for allegedly assisting her second husband, convicted child abuser Walter Breen, in sexually abusing multiple unrelated children.
In 2007 I joined Goodreads and wrote reviews of some of the books that had most transformed me as a reader. I have since, over the years, taken an absurd amount of geek pride that my review of this book is (I think) the most popular one. And for everyone writing "GET OVER YOURSELF" in the comments, as a response to my using my own little corner of the internet to tell a story about how my life as a writer and a Catholic and a woman was shaped by this book, there were a dozen other women responding "OH MY GOD, ARE YOU ME?" I love that. I love this weird little internet mini-community we've built out of being weirdo outcast girls who felt inspired and empowered by this book about a weirdo outcast girl who becomes a raging badass.
Every consumer of art gets to decide for themselves how much the life of the artist matters to them. Sometimes brilliant creative geniuses are assholes. Sometimes they're criminals. Sometimes that makes a difference to how you read their work. Sometimes it doesn't.
The words of twenty-six-year-old me, pouring forth my passionate love for MZB's words, remain untouched and unedited below. Because that story, of how I fell in love with that book as a child, is still a true story. I haven't decided whether I will re-read this book again, whether I will keep it or get rid of it, knowing the things I know now about the woman who wrote it. And I'm not telling you what you should do.
But MZB's daughter says out loud not only that her mother abused her, but that part of the reason she hid that abuse was because of MZB's status in the SFF community as a champion of women. Because she didn't think anyone would believe her. Because this is an important feminist work. Because her mother's fans would be angry at her for accusing their icon of such horrors.
And I won't be complicit in that.
--Claire Willett (June 27, 2014)
ORIGINAL REVIEW BELOW
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You have to be a particular kind of girl to fall in love with this book the way I did.
--You have to be in the sixth grade, a freakishly precocious reader, whose beloved sixth-grade teacher brings a box of her ten favorite books to class and sets them up on the chalkboard and leaves them there for weeks for you to look at, including one HUGE book that looks like it's a billion pages long with some cool fairy priestess chick on a horse on the cover.
--You have to have grown up reading King Arthur stories and LOVE the movie "The Sword In the Stone."
--You have to be so hopelessly nerdy that you would rather sit on the side of the playground reading than play kickball, never mind how much the other kids make fun of you about it.
--You have to be Catholic enough to understand the mentality of the occasionally hateful Christian characters in the book (as well as to be baffled and perplexed by all the sexuality which will make a number of plot elements only make sense to you when you re-read the book as a college student and go, "Ohhhhh. Now I get it").
--You have to be the kind of girl who loves and relates to the plain outcast Morgaine who is treated as a freak has to learn how to rely on herself alone.
--You have to hate the shallow blonde princesses, even when they seem like they might be kind of nice people, and always root for the feisty brunette.
--You have to be a fantasy geek who LOVES any book with swordfighting, magic, princesses, and doomed romance.
--You have to be patient enough to read 800+ pages that cover one woman's entire lifetime from before her birth to old, old age.
--You have to come to the end of the book and secretly wish that (despite your religious conviction in your Catholic upbringing) Britain had never been Christianized and we were all still witches.
--You have to secretly wish you belonged to a mystical female cult where you had to have a blue crescent moon tattooed on your forehead.
--You have to wish you knew how to ride a horse in a dress and look majestic, instead of falling off every time you were forced onto a horse at camp or on vacation and now you hate them and they scare you.
I picked up The Mists of Avalon because I really love Nordic myths, and usually any stories about King Arthur. Everyone seems to adore this book; even my librarian told me that this was a really good Arthurian tale! Well, it's not. It's horrible.
The Christian bashing was just a tad boring, or repetitive (said as the atheist that I am). As if having one stupid priest wasn't enough, the author just had to fit in several more and call each stupider than the previous. Yeah, there were dumb/evil priests and followers of that religion who did horrible things, and there will always be bad people who call themselves followers of a religion. However, this amount of blabbering about stupid, mean, cowardly priests did nothing to advance the plot. At all. I mean if you wanted to write a book in which the antagonists were all evil Christians then you're on the right track, but this was supposed to be a book on King Arthur, dang it, not of your personal hate issues with Christians.
What's worse, the author couldn't seem to create a halfway decent female protagonist in all the 800+ pages and the countless women characters.
Igraine? No. She's a whiney pushover who convinces herself she's in love with a man her husband hates because she hears a prophecy that she's supposed to bear that man's child (if I heard a prophecy like that, I'd run away). Okay, she didn't love Gorlois, but he was good to her up until she started spending time with a man he clearly distrusted and told her to stay away from (not that I really like Gorlois, but wouldn't you be freaking mad if your wife/husband got all cozy with someone you consider evil?). And besides stabbing her husband, Igraine doesn't do anything. She just sits at home. Wow, my new hero.
Vivianne plotted adultery and incest, acted like she loved everyone, but in reality, did horrible things to them. She was even surprised when Galahad, who she barely had anything to do with, didn't love her. Also, did anyone else notice how Vivianne always corrected people and told them "All gods and goddesses are one" and then proceeded to ridicule the Christian God and call him and his followers morons? Hah! Ha ha. I don't know if that was meant to be funny, or if Ms. Bradely was just too stupid to notice the contradiction.
Morgaine failed at everything in life. I felt bad for her at being used like that, then for being rejected by Lancelet. But then again, she couldn't care less for her child, hated pretty much innocent Gwenhwyfar, and came up with plans to have Lancelet sleep with her even though she knew he didn't love her; so whatever sympathy I had for her went pretty quick. And it gets even better - she gets married, sleeps with several more people, goes to Avalon again and acts like she's the main goddess, even though she did so many un-goddess like things. I loved how Niniane thought "She should be here in my place, the GREAT Morgaine of the Fairies!" HAH! What did Morgaine ever do besides sleep with her own brother?
Gwenhwyfar was worse than Igraine. On the other hand, it was so obvious that Bradley created her solely to make fun of Christians. She must have been like "Oh, I'll create this woman who's a dumb little bitch in heat who everyone will hate. And, bonus: I'll mention how beautiful she is every two pages to make sure all the female readers will be jealous of her and hate her even more! Then I'll make sure to have her pretend to be a pious follower of Christ (even though, in reality, an adulteress is not a pious follower of Christ) and I'll have created a perfect epitome of all Christian women to show the world what nasty morons they are! Yay!!"
I mean really? And a lot of people actually agree with this exaggerated, biased, ridiculous nonsense. When I was browsing through 5-star reviews of this book to try and understand why exactly human beings love this trash, someone actually said "...this book makes me want to leave behind my life and become a pagan..." ! (That wasn't the exact quote, but that was the gist of it.) I just... I can't even... Oh yes I can. Become a pagan, then, and have a baby with your own brother at a drunken bonfire. Next, make sure you neglect your child and run around effing tons of other men! By the way, back then protection didn't exist; so be sure not to use any of that either, and see how many STDs and unwanted pregancies you'll get. Homeless and vulgar, isn't Morgaine's portrayal of a pagan lifestyle just wonderful?!
Back to the characters - the males were all one-dimensional and flat. They were all extremely handsome and extremely skilled knights and extremely horny. *Coughs* A little originality, please, Bradley? Maybe divert from your view that all men are chauvinist pigs? The one character I kind of liked was Morgause - she's independent, seemed to have a good relationship with her children, and kept Morgaine's secret. But she wasn't anything I really cared about.
There also seemed to be a whole lot of describing boring day-to-day activities that, just like all the Christian hate, did nothing to advance the plot. It's like, somebody gets up, stares in the mirror and thinks about some complicated love web, goes downstairs, starts knitting, talks to an old woman who came in from the cold... *47 pages later something tiny happens that helps the story along*. Then another good 1/5 of the book was made up of describing how beautiful this and this person was, and then another person is introduced who is WAY MORE beautiful, and so on and so on. In Morgaine's case, it was terrible. One minute she's plain, then someone calls her beautiful, then she's called ugly, then she's supposed to have an inner beauty, then Morgain does something horrible so I can't see what inner beauty they're talking about, then she's beautiful, ugly, beautiful, ugly...
Like, did the author have bipolar attacks while writing this? I honestly don't spend a whole lot of time detailing characters' faces. Tell me they're tall, red-haired, have a scar on their face and that's just perfect. I'm interested in the plot, not the size of everybodys' big toes. Seriously!
The writing itself could have been okay, but because its subject was crap, it was not okay. This book was bad, it really was. After a good 150 pages, I just skimmed another 500, and then skipped the last part and skimmed the epilogue. Had I read the entire book, maybe it would have been better and the characters/plot would have made more sense, but it's a miss I'm willing to take.
Y'all need to tell me when I start reading a book by a child rapist. At least I only made it 85 pages before figuring out this was that author (warning: the later paragraphs of this post turn homophobic)...
The whole King Arthur thing, told from a completely different, female perspective, criticizes faith and patriarchy at the same time and does characterization at the ultimate prime level.
Crush eco social, nature loving bonobo matriarchies to install theistic terror states. How the book deals with the death of a better, old system to establish a religious terror state, pimping the dictatorship that already exists in similar ways, remembers me of something else: I love the metaphor of the possible death of pan, the destruction of very old knowledge, wisdom, harmony with nature, also known as bad witches and dangerous Celtic tribalism, that has been exterminated by great Christianity.
There seems to be a lack of gender balance in leading roles in classic literature Did anyone notice the underrepresentation of women in all classic tales, full of stupid manly wars, battles, duels, sometimes close to gay bromances, although they are of course no homosexuals in many brands of classic literature and mythology? Patriarchy made most of the old stuff quite stereotypical, superficial, and evil and madness promoting works, avoiding giving women more than the role of a price, victim, evil antagonist, bitch witch, or trophy.
A fascinating, different perspective I´ve a fantasy reading deficit in general, because I´ve been sci-fiing for over 5 to 10 years and have difficulties leaving this trail because I am so hooked on it, with the one or other comedy and horror novel or fantasy series in between. But whenever I´ll start rereading, I want to focus on the more forgotten, old, fresh, new, and especially completely different female fantasy writers´ ideas about many tropes and concepts, because they differ so much from the male perspective and open up so much room for new interpretations and thereby insights and comprehension of the complexity of how epigenetic and cultural evolution transformed, transforms, and will transform society. Just as social sci fi, which I command you to immediately start reading now, because I am the King and you´ll be tortured, excommunicated, and killed if you don´t read my genres!
My final book of 2017! I did not think I would finish it before the end of the year. I started it back on October 1st and it was slow going. I often found myself not reading it for days at a time. It really wasn’t capturing my interest. But, with a week to go in 2017 and about 300 or so pages left, I buckled down and finished it at around 8:15 on December 31st!
You might think that my opinion of this book will not be stellar considering it was slow going. About a week ago when I committed to finishing it before the end of the year that was where I thought it would end up, too. However, the story really came together for me and I actually quite enjoyed the storytelling. It is indeed a large book and quite a commitment, but if you love fantasy and Arthurian legend, it is worth checking out.
In some of my discussions with my book friends we were trying to figure out what Bradley was going for with this book. Having finished, I am not sure it is much clearer. Here are a couple of topics that came up frequently:
Feminism – If she was going for the feminist viewpoint, why are pretty much all the female characters unlikable and devious throughout the book? Some of them do come around, but it seems to make women generally seem either sneaky or annoying.
Christianity vs Paganism – What amazed me the most about this was that many said they did not remember the opposing religious viewpoints from the book when they read it; that seemed to be the main point of the story. Reading up on Bradley it sounds like she was a practicing Pagan, so it would make sense that she might want to bring this discussion in, but it seemed quite repetitive after a while. It does definitely come into play with the overall resolution of the plot, but I am thinking if you don’t like reading debates on religion on Facebook, you probably wouldn’t want to read 876 pages of it either.
Finally, I can say that my overall feelings about this book were skewed by what I found out about the life of the author when I was partway done with the book. I won’t go into it here, but if you Google her or check out her Wikipedia page, you will see what I am talking about.
Summary: Many will enjoy this book. It is a big commitment. Some subject matter may be controversial and preachy - but, some really good storytelling.
Hmmm, I would like to see the mini series to this book.
I felt it was a good book although it did get boring at times or maybe it was just me! I loved reading about the history. The most I have ever known about Arthur and the gang was through my show, Merlin.
The ending was really sad to me 😕 But it was excellent as well, if that makes any sense.
OK I admit, when I told my college Arthurian Lit professor that I'd read and enjoyed this book, he proceeded to give me a quick-before-the-next-class-comes-in lecture about how Marion Zimmer Bradley's "interpretation" skewed wildly from the genre.
But I don't care. It's a difficult book (long and utterly depressing,) but it takes the first in-depth look at both women and the pagan Celtic religion of Britain, which Christianity usurped around that time. Evil sorceress Morgan Le Fay is transfered into multi-faceted Morgaine, a woman deeply committed to her family, especially her aunt, Viviane, half-brother, Arthur, and cousin, Lancelet. Gwenhyfar, the simpering Christian princess, was my least favorite, but even she had some complexity, an unhappy childhood, inferiority complex made worse by her bareness, (and obvious jealousy-issues with Morgaine concerning the womens' relationships with Arthur and Lancelet.) Perhaps the most dour of Morgaine's familial ties is that with her son, Mordred, the illigitimate heir of her brother, whom she foolishly put up with her aunt Morgause, easily the most shallow and greedy woman in the entire book.
Religion-wise, I found it impossible not to root for Morgaine's Avalon, not only because I knew it was destined to recede into the mists, but because it was matriarchal, and so much more comforting to me than the expansionalist, narrow-minded and mysoginistic version of Christianity prevalent during those times. At the end, Morgaine herslf shows the most tolerance and versatility for diverse cultures- she outlives most everyone else, and grows to accept that her mother goddess is now worshipped as the virgin mary. Quite the contrast from the crone-like Morgan Le Fay, whose only purpose is to destroy the kingdom of Camelot.
The Arthur myth from the point of view of Morgaine le Fay, pagan priestess. Supposedly a feminist take on the old legends. There is one main problem with this approach: let's face it, women's lives in the dark ages were pretty boring. And rather than break out of this mold with strong female characters, Bradley talks a lot about spinning, weaving, and having babies. The female characters are either contemptible or irritating, or both. The male characters are cardboard--Arthur is as heroic as a limp dishrag, Merlin just an old man sitting in his rocking chair. The pagan-Christian thing is overwrought and shrill, devolving mostly into interminable theological debates between characters that cover the same ground over and over and over again.
A lot of things irritated me about this book, but nothing more than the simple lack of a compelling narrative construction. Nothing happens. There is dialogue, which mostly rehashes things that were already talked about. And then there is monologue, in which the weak and mostly contemptible characters thrash around in their heads so much that it would make Dostoyevsky cringe. It makes me angry that you could even try to tell the Arthurian legend--even from a feminine point of view--without looking at the epic clashes between the knights of the round table and their enemies.
Horrendously disappointing. For a fantasy novel, George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones does everything that this book tries to do, and does it ten times better. For more of a historical view, Bernard Cornwell's The Last Kingdom is a much more fun and interesting look at the clash of Christian and pagan civilizations, and even has characters that you don't hate.
This is one of the few books that I hate. I'm a feminist and I love King Arthur stories and The Mists of Avalon makes me vaguely nauseous. I read the whole thing hoping it would get better, and it didn't, though there are a few good bits. Overall I found it offensive to the Arthurian legends, to history, and to women, and being a 15-year-old girl who liked fantasy novels did nothing to change this opinion.
My favorite fantasy novel written by a serial rapist and child-abuser. Now that I think about it, I'm interested to remember that the person who recommended it to me was also a big fan of Nietzsche.
Wow, this is a truly epic retelling of the Arthurian legends – epic in length at 850 pages, epic in scale at spanning three to four generations, and epic in its ambition to provide a feminist reinterpretation of a decidedly masculine mythology. I wish I could say it was an epic success. Instead, Mists of Avalon meanders too much, treading the same ground again and again, almost as if the plot itself has gotten lost in the mists. Over and over, pagan and Christian characters debate the oneness of God/the Goddess. Over and over, female characters ponder the unfairness of life in a patriarchal society. Bradley rarely shows; instead, she tells. And tells. And tells. She tells in dialogue. She tells in internal monologue. She tells in narration.
What keeps the book moving is Bradley's writing style, both formal enough to suit an Arthurian epic, but readable and engaging enough to pull the reader through endless paragraphs of court politics. She develops deep and intriguing characters who change as the years pass. The book seems to be moving to a major resolution of the long-simmering conflict between paganism and Christianity. But the resolution happens almost despite itself. There's no real climax, at least none befitting a book of this length and scope.
And finally, there are the questions of religion and sex – issues that come up because of the author, who was an outspoken pagan while also implicated in both her husband's ongoing sexual abuse of children and eventually accused by her own daughter of molestation. Mists of Avalon simply can't avoid these facts. First, Bradley makes no effort to present a fair view of Christianity; even accepting that any work told from the perspective of Morgaine of the Fairies is not going to be pro-Christian and acknowledging that Christian practices in converting pagan tribes were often coercive if not violent, Bradley's portrayal is so lopsided as to be cartoonish. The character of Gwenwhyfar seems created almost entirely to be the whipping boy for pagan tolerance over and against Christian prudery and narrow-mindedness.
Regarding the allegations against Bradley, I feel deeply flawed humans can still create great art – even art that transcends the initial offenses of its creators to become a force for good within the world. Unfortunately, that's not the case here. In fact, Bradley's deeply troubling views of sex and consent taint this work, as she glorifies incest, promiscuity and rape as part of an idyllic faith free of Christian ignorance. Certainly, I'm not asking for a book to uphold a conservative Christian view of sex, where all of the characters improbably wait until they are married and never cheat on their spouses. But for a book to be truly feminist in orientation, it seems it should advocate at least a little for the agency of its women, rather than forcing the characters to portray their own subjugation into sexual relationships with family members and older men as somehow liberating. Most disturbing, the one unequivocally negative portrayal of a sexual conquest smacks more than a little of "she had it coming." At times, Bradley questions patriarchal notions of sexuality, pointing out (again, telling multiple times, rather than showing) that women who take younger men as partners are vilified as sluts while men who take younger women are glorified for their conquests. But overall, Bradley seems enslaved to patriarchal notions of sexuality more than rising above them.
In the end, I appreciate the effort, but even as I write this review, I've talked myself down from three stars to two. It was just OK, and it could have been so much more. I enjoyed aspects of the book, and I never seriously entertained stopping it, but by the end I was seriously disappointed. Maybe even epically.
Did you know the author tortured & sexually assaulted her own children, helped & encouraged her pedophile (ex)husband, and advocated for adult/child sexual relationships...because both she and her hubby participated in them?
I didn't like this novel before -- too much misandry, revisionism, contempt for the Arthurian mythos, creepy sexual content, etc. etc. But knowing such information about the author -- who she REALLY was and what she did and what she thought -- explains a lot about certain themes, scenes, etc. in this book that always put me off.
Before any review, i need to put down some words. I can't understand how MZB, who wrote such powerful lines and characters, that made me feel so understood, that represented repression and gender inequality with such a beautiful, compelling and empowering novel, could have also been the abuser of her daughter. I can't understand but i am so angry and this is never something to forgive just because her work spoke to me so much. She is unforgivable to my eyes and my heart, it made me vomit as soon as i found out about her daughter, so this is why i won't read more in this series and of her work but i'll review this book detached from my personal opinions of the author. I hope you'll understand. Would i recommend it? I don't know, i'm so conflicted because the message makes me say yes of course, MZB history makes me say NOT AT ALL. It's up to you.
XXX
I loved this book, so fucking deeply. It took me 3 weeks to read it but i couldn't put it down. Some will find it boring, some will find it fascinating, some will find it disturbing, some will find themselves in this book. I couldn't express a more striking and effective metaphor of woman condition and on how religion has repressed and effected our society better than what MZB has done. If you're a fervent religious person, you'll probably hate it.
The Mist Of Avalon is the retelling of King Arthur's story but from a very different point of view. It follows the story of the women of Avalon, a land where the old Goddes is celebrated. We meet Igraine, Vivianne, Morgause, Morgaine and Gwenhwyfar. Those women were seen as witches and the villains of the story, just because they didn't turn into christians and because they couldn't accept their predetermined roles as wives and mothers. They were so much more. The decline of the pagan religion is symbolized quite literally, through their holy Isle of Avalon. There was a time when any man or woman could find the Island, but as more and more converts abandon the old ways, Avalon fades more into the mists. So we witness the battle to make the old gods survive against the Christian repression. But it's not just that. This is a story of men and women and their flaws and search for doing the right thing (whatever that means) and human nature.
The moral grey area of this book is very wide. I liked the fact that what for our society is considered abomination wasn't seen as such for who's not coming from a christian background. And the strongest key point of this book is exactly that, showing as many perspective as possible, all valid. It was a real, deep understanding of moral ambiguity and of the fluid nature of truth. Bradley creates women who are strong-willed, born into a tradition of matriarchal hierarchies and yet, they face a society that has fought them and locked them to traditional roles. She re-envisions Arthurian legend through the eyes of its women, but this only explain a fraction of what this book is about. It also questions our assumptions about the natures of the characters involved, and ultimately about the nature of the story itself.
Morgaine is one of my favorite character ever, she was such a complex and determined person. We feel her pain, her struggles but we can also find solace in her strength and in her voice. I loved her because we can see vulnerability and empowerment, strength and weakness. She's not just black or white, like any woman.
"But what can a virgin know of the sorrows and travail of mankind?”
At the end of the book i was left with one doubt. I couldn't understand both Arthur and Lancelot, and it made me wonder that sometimes the will of looking to the story from a female point of view erased or flattened the male perspective. Just like the old story did with these ladies. So i would have loved to understand those characters better to have a 360° vision of the story but well, i can't say that the message wasn't clear and that it didn't hit me like a train.
So, this is a very dark tale that maybe you won't always understand nor like but it's addictive because it reflects the horrors and the struggles of women condition and on how christianity has impacted our societies. A feast for us atheists, a banquet for feminists and a fantasy book that really makes me wonder why, in 2018, we still struggle with bad female characterization and stereotyped heroines. Oh Goddess, come and do what you will!
"There is no such thing as a true tale. Truth has many faces and the truth is like to the old road to Avalon; it depends on your own will, and your own thoughts, whither the road will take you."
Again, I feel the need to put my thoughts down about some of the books that changed my life and made me into the guy I am.
Those who know me just one tiny bit also know that The Lord of the Rings is my favourite book ever. Go a little bit deeper, and you also know that Frank Herbert's Dune is high up on my list of all-time favourites. The point is that those two books were the first real fantasy books (using the term loosely here) I read in my life. But... in reality I have a holy trinity of fantasy books from my childhood. The three books that made me love fantasy in the first place and go to explore other worlds and the magic between the pages of masterpieces.
I've already confessed my undying love for LotR and Dune. The third aspect of the trinity is The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley.
Like I already wrote about in slightly more detail in my review of Darkover Landfall, Marion Zimmer Bradley is, despite it all, one of my favourite authors. This book is what introduced me to her works.
But as I write these words, I realise one sad fact about this wonderful story. I remember nothing of it. Not one bit. Unlike the other two books mentioned in the beginning, I have never read this one again after the first time. And now I'm scared to actually do it. Because I don't want to sully childhood memories with the harshness of reality.
The only thing I do remember is that I absolutely loved it. And still do, passionately so. And that's the important part, right?
So, depending on whether or not I eventually read this again, and depending on whether or not I have more thoughts to think and more words to write, maybe there will be a full review about the loveliest work of Arthurian fiction at some point.
"And so, perhaps, the truth winds somewhere between the road to Glastonbury, Isle of the Priests, and the road to Avalon, lost forever in the mists of the Summer Sea."
Though I am wont to blame the inescapability of genetics for various aspects of an Epicurean reading of Absurdism, I tend to pause, for some reason, in ascribing gender differences as stringently. It's difficult to say if this is simply a bias of wishful egalitarian thinking or truly an outgrowth of my understanding, for precisely the reasons that Epicureus is worthy to interrupt my many Suicides. So, when I say that women seem more than men to be capable of breaking the Tolkien Curse laid so thickly upon Modern Fantasy (barely proper), it is with trepidation.
Flatly blaming rude and wretched socialization always seems easier; despite our inability to understand any First Cause. Original Sin infects us all.
There is certainly something bound in the flesh which drives a breed of dwarfish, ill-socialized, fetish-loving escapists to blindly build and habitate an unoriginal world; and for a further gaggle of the nearly less-talented to consume it ravenously. It seems that, in the spirit of contrariness, when women find themselves thrust by love of horses or exceedingly lax tonsorial concerns into the same arena, that they fight a different fight.
Perhaps they approach the incline from a different vantage; arriving not by way of a)Tolkien to b)Conan to c)some unspeakable modern half-wit, but by Malory, McKinley, and Spenser. Of course, one must not forget that the vein of Fantasy still runs, at least in part, through Austen; and that though those alloys be rarer, still inhabit the edges.
Bradley has certainly taken a different tack on her way to the summit (never tor) of fantasy. She evokes Spenser, the Idylls, and all manner of other ridiculous romanticics of the Arthurian Mythos. She also endeavors to pull the characters out of the romantic and toward post-modern psychological conflict. On occasion, she even succeeds.
There is an undeniable depth to the books, accompanied by a rather pleasing graying at the temples of morality which immediately places her at the opposite pole from her male contemporaries. That those poles are really not so far away somewhat lessens the impact, and one is eventually bound to recognize that there really is a reverse pole to the whole of our concept of fantasy marked somewhere in Peake's Titus trilogy.
Actually, that's not true. One could very easily read a fantasy novel a week for life and never have to realize that Bradley is really only a little bit out there; but certainly enough to feel like a breath of the fresher.
Well, there I go again - sniffling and crying through the last 10 pages over a bunch of fictional characters that I feel I know better then some real people. If ever there was a book to make me believe in the power of magic, then Bradley cast her spell over me when she penned this book.
What a sap I am, and what a sap I'll be again the next time I read this...
Not that the blurb gives away much of this book and not that I was even remotely interested in it, but a review came up on my feed of someone blacklisting this book. Curious, I clicked the links to work out why.
To summarise though, this author supports her husband who was a known pedophile. The above link shows her daughter saying the author herself molested her (the daughter). So, to all my friends who want to read this or any of the author's other books, I would strongly suggest not to support a monster.
If anyone has anyone more information on this or if I am wrong on any counts, please let me know. I am just absolutely horrified by what I have read and felt I should share.
Former 4 star review. Just read an article from the author's daughter regarding the abuse she experienced from her abusive, apologist enabler mother and her pedophile father that calls into question the actions and relationships the occur in the book.
This is kind of a feminist version of the Arthurian legend (I say "kind of" for a reason; Nenia's review offers several reasons why it's arguably quasi-feminism at best). It's well-written but I got bored, and it was long-winded, and I simply didn't care about any of the characters. I didn't find any of them particularly likeable or sympathetic. I skimmed most of the second half.
An excellent Arthurian saga. Written from the point of view of Morgaine, Arthur's half-sister and the villian of traditional Arthur tales. Unique in perspective with strong female characters. It is a story of love; and quite different from any Arthur novel you'll ever read. Marion Zimmer Bradley's best work. She paints a vivid picture, rich with depth of characters and relationships. One of my favorites, I can read this over and over again.
This book has been important to me for a long time. It’s billed as a feminist retelling of the King Arthur tale. What’s feminist about it is the radical notion that women should be able to learn to read books and play music, and maybe we shouldn’t focus so much on them being the originators of all sin because of that pesky eating of the apple (or pomegranate, depending on who’s doing the interpretation).
The main characters include those that were familiar to me at least in name: Arthur, Lancelot, and Gwenhwyfar (I would have spelled it Guinevere, but what do I know). However, the lead character is the priestess Morgaine, born on the Isle of Avalon, which is hidden from others by the mists referenced in the title.
It’s a sweeping story of characters who are mostly trying to do right (although you need some villains, obviously, both male and female). Doing right sometimes means having to let your true love go. It’s also a fictionalized account of how Christianity took over the Pagan religions. So, coincidently, Jesus happened to be born near the winter Solstice (although other accounts say he was born in June or July) and was resurrected near the Spring Equinox. Pagans essentially worship Mother Earth and nature. Imagine if we still respected nature and Earth that much.
I read this first after it was given to me as a gift after high school graduation approximately a million years ago. This time around, I listened to it as an audiobook. It’s many hours long, but the narrator’s soothing voice is a lovely way to fall asleep. Thanks to audiobooks, you no longer need to be a little kid to be read a bedtime story!
This is a feminist work. I saw a few one-star reviews (from dudes AND ladies) of this saying that the women were boring or slutty or whatever coded misogyny nonsense, but let me get something off my chest: do not confuse "having strong female characters" with "female badass fetishization" because this book absolutely has the former.
The women were strong and they were complex and each one of them had this beautifully woven narrative. Feminine =\= unfeminist. Spinning, weaving, childbirth, motherhood, sex, periods, heartbreaks, first uncomfortable pangs of romance- these are all honest and authentic experiences of these women.
The characters navigated their world, insular as it may have been, in a manner accommodating the men who ran it. Behind the scenes and pulling strings, that's what these women were doing. Standing close to the spotlight and never stepping in it.
I thought there was a beautiful symmetry in this book- once I got to the end and all the scattered pieces started to come together again (because yo, not gonna lie, this book will wander far and wide from the original starting point), it felt like this bellowing crescendo to me. Hallowed moments of tender mercies and divine revelations finally knit back together and shaped this incredible feminist narrative of women and God.
Here's a backstory: I have a "Valar Morghulis" tattoo. I love asoiaf unconditionally and forgive GRRM being unable to write women's anatomy. He writes women like they were men, and I appreciate the complexity this offers women roles. While I was reading Mists of Avalon I thought of Gregory Macguire's Wicked novels and how Elphaba, like Morgaine, eventually wanders into moral grey areas and makes mistakes. Elphaba hardens, she resigns herself to wickedness and coldness and keeps her vulnerability hidden. Addendum to backstory: I'm not religious in the slightest.
But now I know what a complex woman in a fantasy setting looks like when written by a woman and I am never going back. Reading female characters who show strength as well as vulnerability? Fortitude and weakness? How refreshing is this, reading women who aren't written as men or earn have to earn their "girl power" mantle by wielding swords and acting like men? I have never had a particularly favorable attitude towards Christianity and have kept a respectful and silent distance, but the end of this book brought about a new affection for how beautiful spirituality can be because of how it affected each of these women in different ways. I was deeply moved by this book.
This series is arguably a flamed feminist works, but to me it's more like a New Age/Wicca retelling of the King Arthur myth. However, The Mists of Avalon does touch upon a lot of feminist topics, most of the female characters are flawed and unlikable at times but their flaws make them more realistic to me; plus many of these characters are vividly and richly written and through these characters, the author has many great stories to tell.
The series also touches upon a lot of topics: the conflict between old and new religions, love, magic, destiny, betrayal, power struggle, sex and desire, longing, spirituality; with the lives of many female characters being woven into all these affairs. I like the worldview Marion Zimmer Bradley offers to us, I also enjoy how she described magic, supernatural power and how it affected mortals.
Please bear in mind that the women in The Mists of Avalon are not mouthpieces of feminism, to tell the truth for most of the time I can hardly view them as 'role models'; but I admit they are women lived in a quickly changing time and faced difficult situations *in their own ways*. These are women who had worry, desire, ambition, sorrow, strength and weakness of their own; for that reason I find them endearing in a sense.
However, I do have issues with how the characters always not seem to have a choice and/or view themselves as victims of fate. =__=
Edited@07/12/2021: This time I only managed to re-read up to the ending part of The High Queen, will read the rest again another time.
Have you ever found yourself reading a book, knowing you're reading crap, but the writing style and the occasional promising plot twist kept you going?
Maybe I was fooled by Hallmark's production, Merlin, and I expected Morgaine to have a backbone to call her own. Zimmer Bradley took whatever hope I had of finding yet another female character to favore and crushed them; Morgaine is obsessed with who everyone marries and who gives birth to who as badly as the simple 'foolish' women she describes contemptly. The constant religious conversations were getting boring by the nine-hundredth time they were run and Zimmer Bradley's constant obsession wit not taking sides or making too many snapping comments of christianity were annoying. Bradley gives no one a truely happy ending nor a revenge to any of the 'bad' characters and so leaves the reader with a sense of bitter dissappointment. Sure, it was nice to read about the very early days of post-Roman england, but for god's sake; I could have picked up a history book and not this waste of time, energy and paper.
https://cronicasdemagrat.com/2016/07/... Me ha gustado muchísimo y ya nunca veré a personajes como Morgana, Ginebra o Lancelot con los mismos ojos... Me ha fascinado especialmente toda la parte pagana y mágica, tan bien hilada y el ambiente melancólico (incluso a veces deprimente). Es impresionante la manera en la que la autora nos muestra la transformación de la Inglaterra romana/pagana hacia la medieval/cristiana... #Fan
I read this book when I was in my mid-teens, and in the midst of an Arthurian obsession phase. These are mythical characters that have been written on so many times and by legendary figures who are almost myths themselves. It's a really hard subject to tackle without derision. I do think she filled a niche in what could otherwise be a very chauvinistic, idealized genre.
I haven't read this recently, so I don't know if I would still connect to it as much as I did when I read it all those years ago. It teaches something about never taking a story for granted, and the fact that there's a side even to the purportedly evil people that can be more sympathetic than we realize. It's like "Wicked" in that way, only less cliched. Plus, this one was first!
This is the book that made me fall in love with the fantasy genre, I think. For most people it might be Lord of the Rings, however I find Avalon books much more intriguing and easier to read- I don't mean that they are poorly written or cheap, it's the opposite actually. I read this book as a teenager and still feel the sadness in this book. This is somehow the story of how Christianity ate Paganism, but not only that, there is much more to it. Don't be disheartened by the size of the book, it hooks from the start and flows really nicely. Would definitely recommend to fantasy readers!
I’ve been actively reading and reviewing books for a year and a half now. In that time, my criteria for rating a book on the one to five stars scale has changed a couple of times. A few things still hold true. The book has to be exceptional and leave an indelible impression to get a five star rating from me. Three stars remains my meh-rating. It’s a book that I can objectively call a good one, something I might have even enjoyed reading, but it’s also something I can easily forget and move on.
My one star rating however, that’s changed the most. At first it was anything and everything I simply didn’t like. If the offences added up to a certain point I’d give it a one star rating no matter what redeemable qualities I’d find in it. But as I read more and actually started thinking about it, I realised there are books that aren’t even worthy of that single star, books that are, to me, beneath contempt. To compensate, I adjusted my personal rating scale and now one star is reserved to books that induce burning white rage in me.
I’ve given good ratings to books with characters I’ve hated when I enjoyed the story, and I’ve given good ratings to books with stories I’ve hated even when I loved a character or two. For me, the style matters little, but dammit, it matters.
And I’m not talking about the clunky language that in a way fits the subject and the legend, but takes a while to get used to.
Ms. Bradley set out to write a retelling of the Arthurian legend from the female perspective, and in that she succeeded. She managed to put together a logical and a somewhat coherent version of the events that put King Arthur on his throne in Camelot and brought him down from it, and she managed to tell it with female voices. Igraine, Viviane, Morgaine, Gwenhwyfar, Morgause, all these women claw their way from the footnotes of the myth and become three dimensional people—not just characters, but people—with worries and joys of their own.
Admittedly those joys were short-lived, but that’s partly why I loved the story. It’s why I love the legend as I do all things heart-rending.
However, as wonderfully flawed all these people were with their virtues and their unbridled ambitions, none of them really had a choice in the matter. Ms. Bradley didn’t write people, women or men, who made the best of their unfortunate circumstances. She wrote people thrown about by the fates and whims of their deities. Morgaine’s last defence is that she never had a choice and that she was merely the Goddess’ instrument.
And that’s why I hate this book.
All the characters, as Ms. Bradley paints them, are passive. None are active. None make choices and then take responsibility for their actions. They’re all thrown into untenable situations where something must break and either give them that what they most wish or take it all away from them.
Igraine marries because she doesn’t have a choice. She goes to convent, because she can’t bear to face the sister who forced her hand.
Gwenhwyfar also marries, because she doesn’t have a choice. She first surrenders to her lover because she doesn’t have a choice. The only stupid choice she makes is so that the author has an excuse to make the pious lady into an adulteress without making her choose it.
Morgaine, the worst offender, chooses nothing. The closest she comes to making up her own mind is when she flees Avalon, but after that she promptly becomes the meekest of them all. She, who should be the fearsome Lady of the Lake and High Priestess of the Goddess, how can she be a vehicle of her Goddess’ will when she does nothing but allows others act around her?
Catalyst, you say? This isn’t a chemical reaction where one substance remains unchanged. People change, people make choices that change them and others around them. Unless, of course, you’re a character in The Mists of Avalon.
But times were different then and women nothing but chattel, you say? There’s difference in being victimised and being a victim. All Morgaine and the others had to do to win me over, was not to see themselves as victims. All they had to do was to endure what was thrown at them and choose to make the best of it. All they had to do was to choose.
Only Morgause and Viviane come close to choosing anything, and how are their choices rewarded? Why of course, they are the great villainesses whose actions lead to a family tragedy after a family tragedy. Their actions bring an end to all those things they love and they don’t live to see the aftermath or acknowledge their responsibility.
Telling a story from the female perspective doesn’t make it feminist; writing capable women doing things, being active, and making choices does. This book is something worse; it’s a pretender.
There are many things I appreciate in this book, one thing I don’t is how it all was told. That matters. Dammit.