The Legacy of "Orfeo": Part Two

I had to order some books online and then await their arrival before I could write this post. Stephen R. Lawhead's Pendragon Cycle came to mind as I was reading "Sir Orfeo" for the very first time, for reasons that I can now discuss, since I finally have a copy of his works in my possession.

Lawhead's work is comprised of three volumes: Taliesin, Merlin, and Arthur. While Taliesin and Arthur are very interesting, it is Merlin to which I would like to draw your attention. Lawhead's Merlin has indubitably been influenced by "Sir Orfeo." But instead of commenting on each and every detail, I'll simply juxtapose the two texts below. Lines from "Sir Orfeo" are in italics, Lawhead's work is in normal text, enclosed in quotations.

Some necessary background on Lawhead's Merlin:

1. In Lawhead's formulation of the Arthur legend, Merlin's ancestors sailed from Atlantis and landed in Llyonesse, in the soutwestern corner of Roman Britain.

2. These Atlantean settlers become known in Britain as "the Fair Folk." Compared to the inhabitants of Britain, they have a much longer lifespan. Lawhead is obviously hearkening to "faerie" here.

3. Among the Atlanteans are Annubi the sorcerer, and Merlin's evil step-aunt, Morgian, Annubi's fell apprentice who later surpasses him, both in power and in evil. Thus the Fair Folk are known for their magic. Merlin's mother, Princess Charis, is also a healer.

4. Charis marries Taliesin, the mysterious man-child found by Lord Elphin of Gwynnedd in his father's fishing weir at his coming of age. The finding of Taliesin also marks Elphin's turn of luck. Before finding the babe, he was so unlucky that his father's subjects were ready to demand another heir as their king. Because of his occluded origin Taliesin may be interpreted as being "of faerie," but he is so in a different way than the Atlanteans. What is important is that Merlin may be interpreted as having been descended of faerie, and of royalty, from both sides.

5. Unbeknownst to the Atlanteans in Llyonesse, another group of Atlanteans survives and settles in the north, in the Celyddon Forest. These tribes eventually discover one another, and Merlin marries Ganieda, descended of Atlantis (and therefore of faerie).

6. At the height of Merlin's political strength, after he has been crowned King of Dyfed and just when he is about to unite the kingdoms of Llyonesse (his mother's people), Yr Wyddfa (his father's people), and Celyddon (his wife's people), Ganieda and the child she is carrying are brutally murdered in a Saecsen raid. His wife and child thus taken from him, Merlin slaughters the Saecsen raiders, and then flies into the wild where he lurks for many years.

7. Lawhead's tale is narrated by Merlin.



Section One: "Sir Orfeo," Lines 209-214

For now ichave mi quen y-lore,
The fairest levedi that ever was bore, (209-210)

"I [Merlin] fell across the body of my beloved, a great cry of grief tearing from my throat. I raised myself and held Ganieda's beautiful face in my hands. It was not beautiful anymore, but twisted in horrific agony, bespattered with her blood, her clear eyes cloudy and unseeing... Farewell, Ganieda, my soul; I loved you better than my life." (Lawhead, 227)


Never eft y nil no woman se.
Into wildernes ichil te
And live ther evermore
With wilde beasts in holtes hore; (211-214)

"I saw Lord Death moving among the tumbled corpses [of the Saecsen warhost], rubbing his fleshless hands and grinning his lipless smile as he gazed upon my wonderful work. He greeted me.

Well done, Myrddin. Such a handsome harvest; I am pleased, my son.

My horror could not be contained. Dark mist rose up before my eyes; the voices of the dead filled my ears with cries of sharp accusation. The bloody earth mocked me; sky and sun jeered. The wind laughed. I fled the field, seeking refuge in Celyddon's deep, black heart. I fled to the nameless hills, to the rock-bound mountains, to this barren outcrop with its cave and spring.
And here, Annwas, here is all Myrddin Wylt's kingdom. Here is where I have dwelt, and ever shall dwell.

Death, you have taken all the others--why have you not taken me?" (Lawhead, 234-235)



Section Two: "Sir Orfeo," Lines 238-264

Into the wildernes he geth.
Nothing he fint that him is ays,
Bot ever he liveth in gret malais. (238-240)

"They say Merlin mounted to the sky, taking the shape of an avenging hawk to fly away to the mountains.

Yet, when the voices of the searchers rang in the wood, where did Merlin hide? In what pit did Merlin cower while they cried out to him?

O, Wise Wolf, tell me, why was the light of the sun taken from me? Why was the living heart carved from my breast? Why do I haunt the desolate wastes, hearing only the sound of my own voice in the mournful sigh and moan of the wind on bare rock?" (Lawhead, 202)


He that hadde y-werd the fowe and griis,
And on bed the purper biis, (241-242)

"When I stood up again, Pelleas held out for me a deep blue cloak edged all around with wolf fur. It was a cloak made for a king; indeed, it was my own cloak remade--my old Hill Folk wolfskin new-sewn." (Lawhead, 240)


Now on hard hethe he lith,
With leves and gresse he him writh. (243-244)

"My clothing... was little more than a filth-crusted loincloth. It fell from me as I shrugged it off." (Lawhead, 237)


He that hadde had castels and tours,
River, forest, frith with flours (245-246)

"No one actually lived in the hillforts anymore, had not for a long, long time. But Maelwys [an allied king, and Merlin's stepfather] foresaw the day when fully stocked and gated forts would be required.

We also began planning the series of coastal beacons..." (Lawhead, 192)


Now thei it comenci to snewe and frese,
This king mot make his bed in mese. (247-248)

"I watch the winter stars glitter hard in the frozen sky. Were I not so forlorn, I would conjure a fire to warm myself. Instead, I watch the high cold heaven perform its inscrutable work. I gaze at the hoarfrost on the rocks and see the patterns of a life there." (Lawhead, 194)


He that had y-had knightes of priis
Bifor him kneland, and levedis,
Now seth he nothing that him liketh,
Bot wilde wormes bi him striketh.
He that had y-had plente
Of mete and drink, of ich deynte, (249-254)

"He blessed me from the holy text, then kissed me with a holy kiss, and I him, whereupon each of the others in the room knelt and stretched forth their hands to cover my feet as sign of their submission to me. All except Maelwys, of course, but he embraced me like a father.

In this way I was made King of Dyfed.

I began my reign in the usual way, I suppose: I shared wine with the men who would follow me. I distributed gifts among them and accepted their pledges of fealty. There was singing... and the feasting continued for three more days." (Lawhead, 189)


Now may he al day digge and wrote
Er he finde his fille of rote.
In somer he liveth bi wild frut,
And berien bot gode lite;
In winter may he nothing finde
Bot rote, grases, and the rinde.
Al his bodi was oway dwine
For missays and al to-chine.
Lord! who may telle the sore
This king sufferd ten yere and more? (255-260)

"I squat on my rock, and the rags of my clothes flap around me. Summer sun bakes and blisters, winter wind slices flesh from bone, spring rain soaks to the soul, autumn mists chill the heart.
Yet, Merlin endures. Destiny waits while Merlin squats on his rock above dark Celyddon. Forest Lord... Cernunnos' Son... Wild Man of the Wood... Myrddin Wylt... Merlin... He of the Strong Enchantment, who walked with kings, the very same who now grubs among rotting apples for his food..." (Lawhead, 189)


You may have noticed mention of Pelleas bringing Merlin's wolf-skin cloak, a symbol of his kingship. Lawhead's narrative differs from "Sir Orfeo" in that Merlin does not return to his kingdom to test his steward, but his steward, Pelleas, faithfully wanders in the wilderness seeking to reinstate his dirty, war-maddened, starving, naked king.

But what of Ganieda, the Eurydice figure in Lawhead's story? Does Merlin return with his queen? Give Lawhead a read to find out... but do yourself a great favor, and begin with Taliesin.


Nota bene: In Lawhead you will also find references to "Pwyll" and "The Mabinogi." There are probably other tales woven into his work, tales with which I am unfamiliar.

The Legacy of "Orfeo"

As noted in a previous post and in one of my comments, Tolkien will be a major player in the contemporary conversations over the texts we're covering. Says the preface to "Sir Orfeo" on page 213 of The Broadview Anthology of British Literature, Vol. 1, "Tolkien studied the poem extensively and may well have been influenced by it in writing some portions of The Lord of the Rings." Indeed, there is scholarship that suggests this.

Tom Shippey's works on Tolkien, The Road to Middle Earth and J.R.R. Tolkien: Author of the Century, are two of the most insightful books on Tolkien that I have read. Perhaps by historical accident, Shippey's life closely followed Tolkien's own, inasmuch as he attended many of the same schools and even occupied the same chair at Oxford for a time. Ergo his look into Tolkien's work is unique in that his perspective on English Literature is most closely aligned with Tolkien's own.

On 34-35 of Author of the Century Shippey argues that the appearance of the deer on the path through Mirkwood, followed by the merriment of the elves in the forest, witnessed by Bilbo and the errant dwarves, is an obvious reference to "Sir Orfeo." Writes Shippey:

Orfeo's hunt is 'dim' because it is not clear he is in the same world as the
fairies, who chase beasts but never catch them. The dwarves' hunt is
'dim', more practically, because they are after all in Mirk-wood and
cannot see or even hear clearly. But the idea is the same in both places,
of a mighty king pursuing his kingly activities in a world forever out of reach
of strangers and trespassers in his domain. (Shippey, 35)

Interesting.

But "Orfeo" was of still greater import to Tolkien. As a linguist, he readily noticed that "faerie" ("fairy") was not merely a singular noun: it may be read as a collective noun as well. "Orfeo" afforded the justification for this reading in line 194: "With fairi forth y-nome." Compare the three renderings here:

Broadview (notes): "With enchantment [she was] taken forth."
Shippey: "She was taken away by the fairy-people" (Shippey, Road, 57).
Tolkien: "By magic was she from them caught" (Shippey, Ibid.).

The Broadview editors have chosen to emphasize the potency of the faerie, their locus of power, as the agency by which the queen was taken, whereas Shippey and Tolkien name the faerie directly--and plurally. Regardless, Shippey allows for the Broadview editors' reading of things: "'Fayre' in that context means 'glamour', the deceptio visus of the inhabitants of Fairyland" (Shippey, Ibid.).

This point is essential not only for The Hobbit, but for The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings as well. Lines 347-360 of "Orfeo" closely match Tolkien's description of "the Hidden Kingdom," Gondolin, in The Silmarillion (cf. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, chs. 16, "Of Maeglin," and 23, "Of Tuor and the Fall of Gondolin"). (Incidentally, "The Fall of Gondolin" was one of the earliest pieces of Middle Earth to be recorded by Tolkien.) Right down to the entrance wrought in stone, one could get the impression that Gondolin is really a close, although more au naturale, rendering of the faerie kingdom in "Orfeo."

In both The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings the concealment of elvish kingdoms closely resembles the experience of Orfeo with the faerie in "Sir Orfeo." The otherworldliness of Elu Thingol's kingdom of Doriath, closely guarded by the magic of his wife, Melian, seems a striking literary extrapolation of the Broadview editors' translation of line 194 discussed above. Similarly, this sort of enchantment also appears in The Fellowship of the Ring:

On the green bank near to the very point of the Tongue the Lady Galadriel stood
alone and silent. As they passed her they turned and their eyes watched her
slowly floating away from them. For so it seemed to them: Lorien was sailing on
to forgotten shores, while they sat helpless upon the margin of the grey and
leafless world." (Tolkien, 393)

In this particular case, the enchantment is not so much in the content of the literature as in its form. Tolkien has left the reader to question whether the enchantment is real, an actual occurrence, or merely psychological, an epistemic twist to which the reader and the characters have been subjected. And this question is also in the spirit of "Sir Orfeo": is it real, or merely a dream, a story?