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Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


Why! Why!! Why must you refuse to accept that Dr. Hieronymous Alloy's Genetically Enhanced Cream Corn Is Superior to the Leading Brand on the Market!?!




Morbid Hound
Welcome goonlings to the Awful Book of the Month!
In this thread, we choose one work of literature absolute crap and read/discuss it over a month. If you have any suggestions of books, choose something that will be appreciated by many people, and has many avenues of discussion. We'd also appreciate if it were a work of literature complete drivel that is easily located from a local library or book shop, as opposed to ordering something second hand off the internet and missing out on a week's worth of reading. Better yet, books available on e-readers.

Resources:

Project Gutenberg - http://www.gutenberg.org

- A database of over 17000 books available online. If you can suggest books from here, that'd be the best.

SparkNotes - http://www.sparknotes.com/

- A very helpful Cliffnotes-esque site, but much better, in my opinion. If you happen to come in late and need to catch-up, you can get great character/chapter/plot summaries here.

:siren: For recommendations on future material, suggestions on how to improve the club, or just a general rant, feel free to PM me. :siren:

Past Books of the Month

[for BOTM before 2014, refer to archives]

2014:
January: Ursula K. LeGuin - The Left Hand of Darkness
February: Mikhail Bulgalov - Master & Margarita
March: Richard P. Feynman -- Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!
April: James Joyce -- Dubliners
May: Gabriel Garcia Marquez -- 100 Years of Solitude
June: Howard Zinn -- A People's History of the United States
July: Mary Renault -- The Last of the Wine
August: Barbara Tuchtman -- The Guns of August
September: Jane Austen -- Pride and Prejudice
October: Roger Zelazny -- A Night in the Lonesome October
November: John Gardner -- Grendel
December: Christopher Moore -- The Stupidest Angel

2015:
January: Italo Calvino -- Invisible Cities
February: Karl Ove Knausgaard -- My Struggle: Book 1.
March: Knut Hamsun -- Hunger
April: Liu Cixin -- 三体 ( The Three-Body Problem)
May: John Steinbeck -- Cannery Row
June: Truman Capote -- In Cold Blood
(Hiatus)
August: Ta-Nehisi Coates -- Between the World and Me
September: Wilkie Collins -- The Moonstone
October:Seth Dickinson -- The Traitor Baru Cormorant
November:Svetlana Alexievich -- Voices from Chernobyl
December: Michael Chabon -- Gentlemen of the Road

2016:
January: Three Men in a Boat (To say nothing of the Dog!) by Jerome K. Jerome
February:The March Up Country (The Anabasis) of Xenophon
March: The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco
April: Plain Tales from the Hills by Rudyard Kipling
May: Temple of the Golden Pavilion by Yukio Mishima
June:The Vegetarian by Han Kang
July:Lud-in-the-Mist by Hope Mirrlees
August: Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov
September:Siddhartha by Herman Hesse
October:Right Ho, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse
November:Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain
December: It Can't Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis

2017:
January: Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut
February: The Plague by Albert Camus
March: The Dispossessed by Ursula K. LeGuin
April: The Conference of the Birds (مقامات الطیور) by Farid ud-Din Attar
May: I, Claudius by Robert Graves
June: Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlansky
July: Ficcionies by Jorge Luis Borges
August: My Life and Hard Times by James Thurber
September: The Peregrine by J.A. Baker
Blackwater Vol. I: The Flood by Michael McDowell
Aquarium by David Vann

Current: Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight [Author Unknown]

https://youtu.be/BVnu-X3SK_Q?t=66




Book available here:
Tolkien's Translation

Tolkien's Critical Edition of the Middle English Text

Simon Armitage facing-page alliterative verse translation

Free Teaching Edition version based off translation by John Gardner (author of Grendel) (makes some cuts to the text):
https://www.northallegheny.org/cms/lib4/PA01001119/Centricity/Domain/1312/sir%20gawain%20text-0.pdf
http://ouallinator.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/Sir-Gawain-Gardner-Translation.pdf

Alternate verse translation by John Ridland:
http://www.spdbooks.org/Content/Site106/FilesSamples/9781927409756.pdf

additional free online versions including Middle English text:

http://www.luminarium.org/medlit/gawaintx.htm
(Tolkien critical ME text here: https://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=cme;idno=Gawain )

Prose translation : http://www.yorku.ca/inpar/sggk_neilson.pdf

About the book:

quote:

It describes how Sir Gawain, a knight of King Arthur's Round Table, accepts a challenge from a mysterious "Green Knight" who challenges any knight to strike him with his axe if he will take a return blow in a year and a day. Gawain accepts and beheads him with his blow, at which the Green Knight stands up, picks up his head, and reminds Gawain of the appointed time.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sir_Gawain_and_the_Green_Knight

This isn't your standard King Arthur story like you're used to.

I went over this in more detail in my King Arthur Megathread a few years ago, but the Arthur legends can be divided into two "cycles": the original group of Celtic myths, and then the later French romances. Most of the stuff you're familiar with as "King Arthur" stories -- the Sword in the Stone, the Holy Grail, Sir Lancelot, Galahad, etc. etc. etc. -- all come from the later French romances, mostly written in the 12th century, and weren't part of the original Celtic stories of Arthur. Gawaine is older, Celtic, original.


Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight was probably written somewhere around 1400 -- roughly contemporaneously with Chaucer -- and probably by someone who was at least somewhat familiar with the French "cycle", but it's much more strongly derived from the Celtic tradition; Gawaine is the protagonist, not Lancelot; the Beheading Game a more primal, wild, Gaelic magic more terrifying than anything you'll find in the French legends.

This is why you won't find the story of Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight in most standard editions of "King Arthur Stories"; it isn't part of the French tradition that Malory synthesized in his Morte D'Arthur, and we only know it from one single manuscript (though various versions of similar stories can be traced back hundreds of years in the Celtic sources).

There is one downside: unlike Chaucer's works, which are generally readable today because our modern English is largely derived from Chaucer's London dialect, the Gawaine poet wrote in a more rural dialect that can be impenetrable to modern readers. So, lots of translations linked above. Compare and contrast, or brave the original if you dare.

quote:

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is the finest representative of a great cycle of verse romances devoted wholly or principally to the adventures of Gawain. Of these there still survive in English a dozen or so; in French—the tongue in which romance most flourished—seven or eight more; and these, of course, are but a fraction of what must once have existed. No other knight of the Round Table occupies anything like so important a place as Gawain in the literature of the middle ages. He is the first mentioned of Arthur's knights, for about 1125, ten years before Geoffrey of Monmouth dazzled the world with his revelation of King Arthur, William of Malmesbury in his Chronicle of the Kings of England had told of the discovery of Gawain's tomb in Ross, Wales, and had described him as Arthur's nephew and worthy second. In all the early romances Gawain is peerless for utter courage and courtesy. Where other knights quailed, Gawain was serene; where other champions were beaten, Gawain won; and where no resolution, strength, or skill could avail, Gawain succeeded by his kindness, his virtue, and his charming speech.


quote:

Naturally, to the trained medievalist the poem is perfectly readable in its original form; no translation necessary. And even for the non-specialist, certain lines, such as "Bot Arthure wolde not ete til al were served", present little problem, especially when placed within the context of the narrative. Conversely, lines such as "Forthi, iwysse, bi zowre wylle, wende me bihoues" are incomprehensible to the general reader. But it is the lines that fall somewhere between those extremes - the majority of lines, in fact - which fascinate the most. They seem to make sense, though not quite. To the untrained eye, it is as if the poem is lying beneath a thin coat of ice, tantalisingly near yet frustratingly blurred.

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2006/dec/16/poetry.simonarmitage

About the Author

quote:

We know a good deal about Chaucer considering our distance from him in time, but about the Gawain-poet we know virtually nothing. For some scholars it is not even absolutely certain that the five poems we commonly ascribe to him are all his.' More important, whereas we read and enjoy Chaucer's poetry, much of the Gawainpoet's work, despite its excellence, is still hard to appreciate as literature. One reason for this is the difficulty we have with his language-a difficulty which inhibits not only reading but also translation. We read Chaucer in the original with relative ease, for the London dialect in which he wrote evolved in time into modern English; but the Gawain-poet is accessible only to specialists, and not fully accessible even to them, for his northwest Midlands tongue, never adopted in linguistically influential cities, has remained the curious, runish language it probably was to the average Londoner of the poet's own time. The dialect survives, drastically altered, here and there in rural England; in America, traces of it appear among backwoods or mountain people-in rural Missouri, for example, where the expression "I hope" can still mean "I understand, I believe."

quote:

Part of our trouble is the temperament of the man. He knows and uses the technical language of hunting, hawking, cooking, chess, and the special terms of the furrier, the architect, the musician, the lawyer, the courtly lover, the priest; he knows the names of the parts of a shield, the adornments of a horse, the zones of a knight's bejeweled helmet; he knows too the names of the parts of a ship, the parts of a coffin, the accouterments of farming; knows the Bible and its commentary (probably even commentary in Hebrew), the chronicles, old legends, the ecclesiastical traditions of London. His knowledge rivals that of Chaucer, but it is in some respects knowledge of a very different kind. Chaucer's technical language comes mainly from books-on astrology, on alchemy, on medicine, and so forth. The Gawain-poet's technical language seems to come less from books than from medieval occupations.


quote:

We know next to nothing about the author of the poem that has come to be called Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It was probably written around 1400. In the early 17th century the manuscript was recorded as belonging to a Yorkshireman, Henry Saville of Bank. It was later acquired by Sir Robert Cotton, whose collection also included the Lindisfarne Gospels and the only surviving manuscript of Beowulf. The poem then lay dormant for over 200 years, not coming to light until Queen Victoria was on the throne, thus leapfrogging the attentions of some of our greatest writers and critics. The manuscript, a small, unprepossessing thing, would fit comfortably into an average-size hand. Just as it fitted comfortably into my hand, eventually, when a contact at the library took pity on me and invited me into that part of the building which operates under conditions of high security and controlled humidity. Now referred to as Cotton Nero A.x., not only is it a precious possession, it is considered one of the finest surviving examples of Middle English poetry.

To cast eyes on the manuscript, or even to shuffle the unbound pages of the Early English Text Society's facsimile edition, is to be intrigued by the handwriting; stern, stylish letters, like crusading chess-pieces, fall into orderly ranks along faintly ruled lines. But the man whose calligraphy we ponder - a jobbing scribe, probably - was not the author. The person who has become known as the Gawain poet remains as shadowy as the pages themselves. Among many other reasons, it is partly this anonymity that has made the poem so attractive to latter-day translators. The lack of authorship seems to serve as an invitation, opening up a space within the poem for a new writer to occupy. Its comparatively recent rediscovery acts as a further draw; if Milton or Pope had put their stamp on it, or if Dr Johnson had offered an opinion, or if Keats or Coleridge or Wordsworth had drawn it into their orbit, such an invitation might now appear less forthcoming.

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2006/dec/16/poetry.simonarmitage


Themes

Sparknotes might be helpful for this one: http://www.sparknotes.com/lit/gawain/


Pacing

Read as thou wilt is the whole of the law.

Please bookmark the thread to encourage discussion.

I encourage people to read whatever translations they find and compare notes in the thread.

I plan on making some more detailed critical posts as we get our teeth into the poem, but if others want to tackle such, please do so and save me the work!

References and Further Reading

As mentioned above, for general background on Arthuriana (a suprisingly complex field!) see my earlier King Arthur megathread:

https://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3617881


Final Note:

Thanks, and I hope everyone enjoys the book!

Hieronymous Alloy fucked around with this message at 02:01 on Dec 5, 2017

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Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


Why! Why!! Why must you refuse to accept that Dr. Hieronymous Alloy's Genetically Enhanced Cream Corn Is Superior to the Leading Brand on the Market!?!




Morbid Hound
Guide to reading middle english:

https://faculty.franklin.uga.edu/ctcamp/content/guide-reading-middle-english

quote:

King Arthur lay at Camelot over Christmas . .. .

Now Arthur the King would not eat until all were served, So brimming he was with youth and boyish high spirits; He loved all the luster of life, and he little liked Either to lie in bed late or too long to sit, So busy his youthful blood, his brain so lively; And also for other reasons he waited there, restless: He had sworn by his sovereignty he would start no meal On the festival of the New Year before he was given Some strange tale about some most mysterious thing, Some Monstrous Marvel that merited belief, Of the Old Ones, or of Arms, or of other adventures, Or until some stout lancer had sought of him some sure knight To join with him in the joust and in jeopardy lay Morral life against life, each leaving to the other His fling at the fairer lot, as Fortune might fashion. Such was the King's custom when the court came together At each of the fine feasts he held with his freemen in the hall; Therefore, bold in his manner, He stands at his place, tall, Waiting, young on the New Year, Laughing and talking with them all.

. . .

But now I will speak no more of their sumptuous banquet, For as every man must know, there was nothing missing. Another strain of music now sang through the hall Encouraging each of the nobles to eat all he might; And strangely, almost as soon as that sound died out And the first course had been courteously served to the court, There haled through the door of that hall an ungodly creature, A man as enormous as any known on earth: From his wide neck to his rib cage so square and so thick, His loins and his legs so long and so loaded with power, I must hold that man half giant under HeavenAnd yet for all that, a man he must still have been, And the handsomest creature that ever yet rode horseback; For his chest and his shoulders were huge as any boulder And yet his waist and his belly were worthily small, And indeed all his features were princely and perfectly formed and clean: But astounded, every man there Stared at the stranger's skin, For though he seemed fine and fair, His whole great body was green!


He carne there all in green, both the clothes and the man, A coat, tight-fitting and long, fastened to his sides; On his shoulders a beautiful cloak that was covered inside With pelts perfectly pured, resplendent cloth Bright with a trimming of blaunner, and a hood to match, Loosened now from his locks and lying on his shoulders; Close-fitting, tightly stretched hose of that same vivid green Clung to his calves; at his ankles hung gleaming spurs Of gold on embroidered bangles richly barred; The guard-leather under his legs, where the large man rode, And everything on him, in fact, was entirely greenBoth the bars of his belt and the beautiful stones Artfully arranged over all his array Upon settings of silk on himself and the cantle of his saddle; It would be too much to tell half the trimmings and trifles Embroidered in brocatelle, with birds and flies, Gay weld-glints of green gleaming gold at the center, The beautiful bridle with its metal all brightly enameled, The stirrups the stranger stood on stained the same way, And the saddlebow also, and the mighty steed's fine skirts Where they glistered and gleamed and glinted, all of green stones. For the charger on which he carne was completely the color
of the man A great horse huge and heavy And hard to keep in hand, Who bridled and bristled roughly But knew the knight's command.

Splendid that knight errant stood in a splay of green, And green, too, was the mane of his mighty destrier; Fair fanning tresses enveloped the fighting man's shoulders, And over his breast hung a beard as big as a bush; The beard and the huge mane burgeoning forth from his head Were clipped off clean in a straight line over his elbows, And the upper half of each arm was hidden underneath As if covered by a king's chaperon, closed round the neck. The mane of the marvelous horse was much the same, Well crisped and combed and carefully pranked with knots, Threads of gold interwoven with the glorious green, Now a thread of hair, now another thread of gold; The tail of the horse and the forelock were tricked the same way, And both were bound up with a band of brilliant green Adorned with glittering jewels the length of the dock, Then caught up tight with a thong in a criss-cross knot Where many a bell tinkled brightly, all burnished gold. So monstrous a mount, so mighty a man in the saddle Was never once encountered on all this earth till then; His eyes, like lightning, flashed, And it seemed to many a man, That any man who clashed With him would not long stand.

But the huge man came unarmed, without helmet or hauberk, No breastplate or gorget or iron cleats on his arms; He brought neither shield nor spearshaft to shove or to smite, But instead he held in one hand a bough of the holly That grows most green when all the groves are bare And held in the other an ax, immense and unwieldy, A pitiless battleblade terrible to tell of. The head alone was a full ell-yard in length, The branching pike-steel of blinking green and gold, The bit brilliantly burnished, with a broad edge So carefully ground it could cut like the blade of a razor; The stout shaft which the stern-faced hero gripped Was wound around with iron to the end of the wood And was all engraved in green with graceful figures; And a leather cord lapped around it to lock on the head And, below, lapped round the handle to hold it in tight; And what seemed hundreds of tassels were tacked to the cord On buttons of bright green, brocheed and embroidered. Thus came the dreadful knight to King Arthur's hall And drove full tilt to the dais, afraid of no man. He never hailed anyone there but, haughtily staring, He spoke, and the first words he said were these: "Where is The ruler of this rout? For readily would I Set eyes on that sovereign and say a few words with him, man to man." He glanced at the company And looked them up and down; He stood and seemed to study Which knight had most renown.

All the lords sat silent and looked at the stranger And each duke marveled long what the devil it meant That a hero and horse should have taken such a hue, As growing-green as the grass-and yet greener, it seemed; More brightly glowing than green enamel on gold. And every man there stood musing and came more near Wondering what in the world this creature was up to, For many a marvel they'd met with, but nothing like this. They thought it must be magic or illusion, And for that reason many a lord was too frightened to answer; Astounded at the sound of his voice, they sat stone still, And a deathly silence spread throughout the hall As if they had slipped off to sleep; their sounds sank away and died; But some (I'm sure) kept still From courtesy, not fright; Since this was Arthur's hall, Let him address the knight.

King Arthur stared down at the stranger before the high dais And greeted him nobly, for nothing on earth frightened him. And he said to him, "Sir, you are welcome in this place; I am the head of this court. They call me Arthur. Get down from your horse, I beg you, and join us for dinner, And then whatever you seek we will gladly see to." But the stranger said, "No, so help me God on high, My errand is hardly to sit at my ease in your castle! But friend, since your praises are sung so far and wide, Your castle the best ever built, people say, and your barons The stoutest men in steel armor that ever rode steeds, Most mighty and most worthy of all mortal men And tough devils to toy with in tournament games, And since courtesy is in flower in this court, they say, All these tales, in truth, have drawn me to you at this time. You may be assured by this holly branch I bear That I come to you in peace, not spoiling for battle. If I'd wanted to come in finery, fixed up for fighting, I have back at home both a helmet and a hauberk, A shield and a sharp spear that shines like fire, And other weapons that I know pretty well how to use. But since I don't come here for battle, my clothes are mere cloth. Now if you are truly as bold as the people all say, You will grant me gladly the little game that I ask as my right." Arthur gave him answer And said, "Sir noble knight, If it's a duel you're after, We'll furnish you your fight."

"Good heavens, I want no such thing! I assure you, Sire, You've nothing but beardless babes about this bench! If I were hasped in my armor and high on my horse, You haven't a man that could match me, your might is so feeble. And so all I ask of this court is a Christmas game, For the Yule is here, and New Year's, and here sit young men; If any man holds himself, here in this house, so hardy, So bold in his blood-and so brainless in his headThat he dares to stoutly exchange one stroke for another, I shall let him have as my present this lovely gisarme, This ax, as heavy as he'll need, to handle as he likes, And I will abide the first blow, bare-necked as I sit. If anyone here has the daring to try what I've offered, Leap to me lightly, lad; lift up this weapon; I give you the thing forever-you may think it your own; And I will stand still for your stroke, steady on the floor, Provided you honor my right, when my inning comes, to repay. But let the respite be A twelvemonth and a day; Come now, my boys, let's see What any here can say."

If they were like stone before, they were stiller now, Every last lord in the hall, both the high and the low; The stranger on his destrier stirred in the saddle And ferociously his red eyes rolled around; He lowered his grisly eyebrows, glistening green, And waved his beard and waited for someone to rise; When no one answered, he coughed, as if embarrassed, And drew himself up straight and spoke again: "What! Can this be King Arthur's court?" said the stranger, "Whose renown runs through many a realm, flung far and wide? What has become of your chivalry and your conquest, Your greatness-of-heart and your grimness and grand words? Behold the radiance and renown of the mighty Round Table Overwhelmed by a word out of one man's mouth! You shiver and blanch before a blow's been shown!" And with that he laughed so loud that the lord was distressed; In chagrin, his blood shot up in his face and limbs so fair; More angry he was than the wind, And likewise each man there; And Arthur, bravest of men, Decided now to draw near.

And he said, "By heaven, sir, your request is strange; But since you have come here for folly, you may as well find it. I know no one here who's aghast of your great words. Give me your gisarme, then, for the love of God, And gladly I'll grant you the gift you have asked to be given." Lightly the King leaped down and clutched it in his hand; Then quickly that other lord alighted on his feet. Arthur lay hold of the ax, he gripped it by the handle, And he swung it up over him sternly, as if to strike. The stranger stood before him, in stature higher By a head or more than any man here in the house; Sober and thoughtful he stood there and stroked his beard, And with patience like a priest's he pulled down his collar, No more unmanned or dismayed by Arthur's might Than he'd be if some baron on the bench had brought him a glass of wine. Then Gawain, at Guinevere's side, Made to the king a sign: "I beseech you, Sire," he said, "Let this game be mine. "

"Now if you, my worthy lord," said Gawain to the King, "Would command me to step from the dais and stand with you there, That I might without bad manners move down from my place (Though I couldn't, of course, if my liege lady disliked it) I'd be deeply honored to advise you before all the court; For I think it unseemly, if I understand the matter, That challenges such as this churl has chosen to offer Be met by Your Majesty-much as it may amuse youWhen so many bold-hearted barons sit about the bench: No men under Heaven, I am sure, are more hardy in will Or better in body on the fields where battles are fought; I myself am the weakest, of course, and in wit the most feeble; My life would be least missed, if we let our the truth. Only as you are my uncle have I any honor, For excepting your blood, I bear in my body slight virtue. And since this affair that's befallen us here is so foolish, And since I have asked for it first, let it fall to me. If I've reasoned incorrectly, let all the court say, without blame." The nobles gather round And all advise the same: "Let the King step down And give Sir Gawain the game!"

Then King Arthur commanded the knight to rise, And promptly Gawain leaped up and, approaching his lord, Kneeled on one knee by the King and caught up the weapon; And gently the King released it and lifted up his hand And gave God's blessing to him, and bid Sir Gawain To be hearty both in his heart and in his hand. "Take care, cousin," said the King, "as you set to your carving; For in truth, I think, if you tackle the matter rightly You'll take without much trouble the tap he returns." Then Gawain turned to the knight, the gisarme in his hand. The Green Knight waited boldly, abashed not a bit. And then up spoke the knight in green to Sir Gawain: "My friend, let's go over our terms here before we go further. And first, let me ask you, my boy: What is it men call you? Now let me hear the truth. Let me know I can trust you." "On my faith," said the noble knight, "Sir Gawain is the name Of the baron who gives you this blow, befall what may; And twelve months from now I will take from you another, And with any blade you may wish-but from nobody else alive." The Green Knight answered then, "I am proud, by Heaven above, To get from the famous Sir Gawain Whatever he may have.

"By crimus," the Green Knight said, "Sir Gawain, I'm glad To be getting from your own hand the handsel I've asked. You've recited without a mistake my whole agreementQuite glibly, in fact, all the terms of my trade with the KingExcept that you still have to promise me, sir, by your honor To seek me yourself, alone, wherever you think You will find me in all the wide world, and win there such wages As you pay out today before all these princes on the dais." "Where shall I seek you?" said Gawain, "Where is your castle? By our Lord, sir, I haven't the least idea where you live; I know neither your court, Knight, nor your name; But tell me your name, and tell me truly the way there, And I swear I will work all my wits to wend my way to you, And that I can swear to you by my certain troth." "That is enough for the New Year; I need no more," Said the warrior all in green to the worthy Gawain; "If I tell you truly, after I've taken your tapIf you lay on too lightly-if quickly I tell you all Concerning my castle and country and what I am called, Then you may ask me my path and hold to your pact. And if I can bring out no sound, all the better for you! You may linger here in your land and look no further and relax; Take up your tool, Sir Gawain, And let's see how it smacks." "Just as you wish, my friend," Said he-and stroked his ax.

On the ground, the Green Knight got himself into position, His head bent forward a little, the bare flesh showing, His long and lovely locks laid over his crown So that any man there might note the naked neck. Sir Gawain laid hold of the ax and he hefted it high, His pivot foot thrown forward before him on the floor, And then, swiftly, he slashed at the naked neck; The sharp of the battleblade shattered asunder the bones And sank through the shining fat and slit it in two, And the bit of the bright steel buried itself in the ground. The fair head fell from the neck to the floor of the hall And the people all kicked it away as it came near their feet. The blood splashed up from the body and glistened on the green, But he never faltered or fell for all of that, But swiftly he started forth upon stout shanks And rushed to reach out, where the King's retainers stood, Caught hold of the lovely head, and lifted it up, And leaped to his steed and snatched up the reins of the bridle, Stepped into stirrups of steel and, striding aloft, He held his head by the hair, high, in his hand; And the stranger sat there as steadily in his saddle As a man entirely unharmed, although he was headless on his steed. He turned his trunk about, That baleful body that bled, And many were faint with fright When all his say was said.

He held his head in his hand up high before him, Addressing the face to the dearest of all on the dais; And the eyelids lifted wide, and the eyes looked out, And the mouth said just this much, as you may now hear: "Look that you go, Sir Gawain, as good as your word, And seek till you find me, as loyally, my friend, As you've sworn in this hall to do, in the hearing of the knights. Come to the Green Chapel, I charge you, and take A stroke the same as you've given, for well you deserve To be readily requited on New Year's mom. Many men know me, the Knight of the Green Chapel; Therefore if you seek to find me, you shall not fail. Come or be counted a coward, as is fitting." Then with a rough jerk he turned the reins And haled away through the hall-door, his head in his hand, And fire of the flint flew out from the hooves of the foal. To what kingdom he was carried no man there knew, No more than they knew what country it was he came from. What then? The King and Gawain there Laugh at the thing and grin; And yet, it was an affair Most marvelous to men.

Groke
Jul 27, 2007
New Adventures In Mom Strength
Sweet, I think I'll be going with the Tolkien translation.

CestMoi
Sep 16, 2011

The Armitage translation is really really good. I've also read the Burton Raffels (?) translation which is not as good, but has a really fantastic introductory polemic against every other translator.

CestMoi
Sep 16, 2011

Other than the specifically poetic side of the poem (which is amazing but I probably can't offer much insight beyond what you would get in a half decent translators introduction) I don't have anything to say until people have had a chance to finish the thing. Rest assured it's amazing and it gets better the more you think about it. It's better than Chaucer but don't tell anyone I said that

Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


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Morbid Hound
Here's a clip of a reading of the beheading in Arthur's hall, translated above, in the original west midlands dialect:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ObooLYEqSU

I strongly recommend listening to this so you can get the original sound of the poem into your ear.






Here's a recording of a reading of the original Middle English with a scrolling translation. It just covers the opening "This all connects up with Aeneas, really" tradition:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nl4KYZ9JrUw

Forty minute BBC documentary:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-nAd6fffVvs&t=4s

Another reading from later in the poem:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ax6sXDxhc4s


Simon Armitage sixty-minute BBC documentary:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74glI1lg1CQ

Hieronymous Alloy fucked around with this message at 14:24 on Dec 4, 2017

Jack B Nimble
Dec 25, 2007


Soiled Meat
I had a collection of illustrated King Arthur stories as a kid and the story of the green knight always scared me. I've downloaded the teacher's version and after I've familiarized myself with the narrative using that translation I'll use those great aids to try the rural middle English of the original.

This is exciting, I only just found the thread and, as someone who read both Pride and Prejudice and What Jane Austen knew and Charles Dickens ate on his own a few years ago, the archive of Pride and Prejudice is amazing .

Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


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Morbid Hound

Jack B Nimble posted:

I had a collection of illustrated King Arthur stories as a kid and the story of the green knight always scared me. I've downloaded the teacher's version and after I've familiarized myself with the narrative using that translation I'll use those great aids to try the rural middle English of the original.

This is exciting, I only just found the thread and, as someone who read both Pride and Prejudice and What Jane Austen knew and Charles Dickens ate on his own a few years ago, the archive of Pride and Prejudice is amazing .

Thanks! I put a lot of work into that one and I'm still a little mad at myself for not finishing it -- I got to the part where the story takes off and just kept reading. Still, I figure that there's enough in that thread to get people "over the hump" to where they can read it on their own.


CestMoi posted:

Other than the specifically poetic side of the poem (which is amazing but I probably can't offer much insight beyond what you would get in a half decent translators introduction) I don't have anything to say until people have had a chance to finish the thing. Rest assured it's amazing and it gets better the more you think about it. It's better than Chaucer but don't tell anyone I said that

I just went by the Barnes & Noble to look at physical copies and compare the translations they had on hand. Surprisingly they didn't have Tolkien's, but of the ones they did have, the Simon Armitage one really stood out, to the point that I ended up buying it -- it's a facing-page translation, which I didn't have, and the sound of Armitage's translation seems to be fairly in ken with the original. Plus it's got a jacket quote by Seamus Heaney.

chernobyl kinsman
Mar 18, 2007

a friend of the friendly atom

Soiled Meat
theres no e in gawain you idiot. you loving imbecile

tolkien's translation is, surprisingly, not very good. marie borrof's is more faithful to the original than armitage's (and the one that undergraduates usually read in class), but armitage's is more readable and 'poetic'. i recommend his. also, the US printings of armitage's text have the Middle English in facing-page

e: note that tolkien's translation is not very good; his edition is very good. this one, however, is at least as good. it's also cheaper, and has the other four* poems believed to be by the same author. i'd get that edition if you're going to take a hack at the ME (which I strongly recommend; it's not easy but it's extremely rewarding and vastly superior experience than the translation)

*Pearl (a sad and weird and haunting dream-vision about the narrator's dead daughter[?]), Patience (a retelling of the story of Jonas), and Cleanness (mostly about marriage). it lacks St. Erkenwald, which most scholars think is probably by the same author. that involves the titular saint bringing a pagan back from the dead.

chernobyl kinsman fucked around with this message at 04:15 on Dec 5, 2017

chernobyl kinsman
Mar 18, 2007

a friend of the friendly atom

Soiled Meat
the entire poem is a circumcision metaphor

the green knight arrives on december 31st. a year and a day later, on january 1st, gawain's neck is nicked by the green knight's axe, a moment that signals his entry into manhood and permanently marks him. january 1st, eight days after christmas, is the feast of the circumcision of christ, as any medieval reader would have known. the entire poem is a circumcision metaphor, and it ends with gawain being circumcised.

Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


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Morbid Hound
He's Gawaine in Howard Pyle and that's where I met him

Also if I called him Galvagin or Gwalchmei it would just be confusing

chernobyl kinsman
Mar 18, 2007

a friend of the friendly atom

Soiled Meat

Hieronymous Alloy posted:

He's Gawaine in Howard Pyle and that's where I met him

Also if I called him Galvagin or Gwalchmei it would just be confusing

i haven't read pyle's arthur but i love the hell out of his robin hood. i should get on that

Tree Goat
May 24, 2009

argania spinosa
i can make an effort post about yogh and ash and thorn etc etc if that would be useful (unless it's in the op somewhere)

CestMoi
Sep 16, 2011

Tree Goat posted:

i can make an effort post about yogh and ash and thorn etc etc if that would be useful (unless it's in the op somewhere)

Yeah boi

Tree Goat
May 24, 2009

argania spinosa
it has been ages since my last linguistics course and i was pretty bad at phonology/paleography even when it wasn't, so feel free to correct my stupid brain.

echoing the op, the way the poem sounds is important and cool and also mostly lost in the translations. so it is worth your while to try to look over the poem in the original. however, even if you've cut your teeth with chaucer, it's gonna be tough. but it's very cool to at least get the rhythm and the phonology of the poems, and you can always consult the facing pages or what have you for the meaning.

if you do so, you will have noticed some strange characters. a lot of these are derived from the old runic alphabet, and mostly didn't make it into modern english. they have survived in modern icelandic, although with some key phonetic differences, but i don't know and don't care to learn.

Þ (think "th")
the first is my boy "thorn", Þ (uppercase) or þ (lowercase). if those show up as squares to you, then imagine something that looks like a "p" but with the tail going up further. it has been replaced in modern english by the "th" digraph. it is pronounced in many of the same ways that you'd pronounce "th" in modern english words, for instance as the th in "father" or, well, the th in "the." in old english you'd sometimes see an eth ("ð") in places where you'd expect a "þ," and vice versa. in many scripts, thorn looked a lot like a script "y" and, with print culture picking up speed as þ's usage was declining, you'd often see a "y" type block used in place of a "þ." this means that "ye olde shoppe" should really be pronounced "the old shop," the same as in modern english. this is something you can "well, actually" about at a renaissance fair, if you're the kind of fundamentally broken person who goes to renaissance fairs and goes on about historical accuracy at them.

some examples from the poem:
"þis" -> "this"
"þat" -> "that"
"oþer" -> "other"

Ȝ (think "gh")
next up is "yogh", Ȝ,ȝ. It looks like a radical looking "3", or a "z" with a tail on it. It has been mostly replaced in modern english by the "gh" digraph, but with a lot of exceptions. a lot of consonants were denoted by Ȝ, so that weirdness is reflected in the dramatically different ways "gh" sounds in "though" and "rough" and "night." It can also sound like a "j" or "y," so be careful. For instance, in "If ȝe wyl lysten," "ȝe" is the 2nd person plural pronoun "ye," as in "hear ye, hear ye."

examples:
"knyȝtez" -> "knights"
"hyȝest" -> "highest"
"Ȝer" -> "year"

Æ (think "e")
last up is "ash", Æ, æ. This is in modern english still I guess, so I won't spend too much time on it. nowadays, it's normally written with an ae digraph instead of a ligature, or the spellings have been modernized to remove it entirely (like "æther" -> "ether"), especially in American English (US "encyclopedia" vs UK "encyclopædia"). Don't freak out when you see it and over-pronounce the "a": in Phillip Pullman's Dark Materials, the "dæmons" are pronounced like "demons," not "day-mons."

Let's put this to the test with a few lines from the first part of the poem, just the earliest ones I could find with both Þ and Ȝ in them that don't have too much other word weirdness going on. I couldn't actually find any ashes in the online version of the text, but I could've sworn there are some. Anyway:

quote:

Hit watz Ennias þe athel, and his highe kynde,
Þat siþen depreced prouinces, and patrounes bicome
Welneȝe of al þe wele in þe west iles.

I'd personally modernize to something like:

quote:

It was Aeneas the noble*, and his high kind,
That soon* subdued* provinces, and patrons became [of]
Well-nigh of all the wealth in the west isles.

Where:
"athel" is from the Old English "æðele," meaning noble (as in your pal and mine, Æthelred the unready, a compound word meaning "noble [æðele] council [ræd]."
"siþen" denotes elapsed time, close to "soon" i'd say. "subsequently" or "afterwards" also work.
"depreced" would gloss to "subdued" rather than the literal "depressed" here, since the connotations have shifted a bit.

Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


Why! Why!! Why must you refuse to accept that Dr. Hieronymous Alloy's Genetically Enhanced Cream Corn Is Superior to the Leading Brand on the Market!?!




Morbid Hound

Tree Goat posted:

i can make an effort post about yogh and ash and thorn etc etc if that would be useful (unless it's in the op somewhere)

pretty please

edit: oh wait you did awesome

Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


Why! Why!! Why must you refuse to accept that Dr. Hieronymous Alloy's Genetically Enhanced Cream Corn Is Superior to the Leading Brand on the Market!?!




Morbid Hound
Gonna get a mythical here, incoming text dump (feel free to ignore!)



The Golden Bough, 1922 Edition, by Sir James Frazier, Chapter XXVIII: The Killing of the Tree-Spirit

quote:


IT remains to ask what light the custom of killing the divine king or priest sheds upon the special subject to our enquiry. . . .


But we have seen that the very value attached to the life of the man-god necessitates his violent death as the only means of preserving it from the inevitable decay of age. The same reasoning would apply to the King of the Wood; he, too, had to be killed in order that the divine spirit, incarnate in him, might be transferred in its integrity to his successor. The rule that he held office till a stronger should slay him might be supposed to secure both the preservation of his divine life in full vigour and its transference to a suitable successor as soon as that vigour began to be impaired. For so long as he could maintain his position by the strong hand, it might be inferred that his natural force was not abated; whereas his defeat and death at the hands of another proved that his strength was beginning to fail and that it was time his divine life should be lodged in a less dilapidated tabernacle. This explanation of the rule that the King of the Wood had to be slain by his successor at least renders that rule perfectly intelligible.

. .. .

At Niederpöring, in Lower Bavaria, the Whitsuntide representative of the tree-spirit—the Pfingstl as he was called—was clad from top to toe in leaves and flowers. On his head he wore a high pointed cap, the ends of which rested on his shoulders, only two holes being left in it for his eyes. The cap was covered with water-flowers and surmounted with a nosegay of peonies. The sleeves of his coat were also made of water-plants, and the rest of his body was enveloped in alder and hazel leaves. On each side of him marched a boy holding up one of the Pfingstl’s arms. These two boys carried drawn swords, and so did most of the others who formed the procession. They stopped at every house where they hoped to receive a present; and the people, in hiding, soused the leaf-clad boy with water. All rejoiced when he was well drenched. Finally he waded into the brook up to his middle; whereupon one of the boys, standing on the bridge, pretended to cut off his head. At Wurmlingen, in Swabia, a score of young fellows dress themselves on Whit-Monday in white shirts and white trousers, with red scarves round their waists and swords hanging from the scarves. They ride on horseback into the wood, led by two trumpeters blowing their trumpets. In the wood they cut down leafy oak branches, in which they envelop from head to foot him who was the last of their number to ride out of the village. His legs, however, are encased separately, so that he may be able to mount his horse again. Further, they give him a long artificial neck, with an artificial head and a false face on the top of it. Then a May-tree is cut, generally an aspen or beech about ten feet high; and being decked with coloured handkerchiefs and ribbons it is entrusted to a special “May-bearer.” The cavalcade then returns with music and song to the village. Amongst the personages who figure in the procession are a Moorish king with a sooty face and a crown on his head, a Dr. Iron-Beard, a corporal, and an executioner. They halt on the village green, and each of the characters makes a speech in rhyme. The executioner announces that the leaf-clad man has been condemned to death, and cuts off his false head. Then the riders race to the May-tree, which has been set up a little way off. The first man who succeeds in wrenching it from the ground as he gallops past keeps it with all its decorations. The ceremony is observed every second or third year.

In Saxony and Thüringen there is a Whitsuntide ceremony called “chasing the Wild Man out of the bush,” or “fetching the Wild Man out of the wood.” A young fellow is enveloped in leaves or moss and called the Wild Man. He hides in the wood and the other lads of the village go out to seek him. They find him, lead him captive out of the wood, and fire at him with blank muskets. He falls like dead to the ground, but a lad dressed as a doctor bleeds him, and he comes to life again. At this they rejoice, and, binding him fast on a waggon, take him to the village, where they tell all the people how they have caught the Wild Man. At every house they receive a gift. In the Erzgebirge the following custom was annually observed at Shrovetide about the beginning of the seventeenth century. Two men disguised as Wild Men, the one in brushwood and moss, the other in straw, were led about the streets, and at last taken to the market-place, where they were chased up and down, shot and stabbed. Before falling they reeled about with strange gestures and spirted blood on the people from bladders which they carried. When they were down, the huntsmen placed them on boards and carried them to the ale-house, the miners marching beside them and winding blasts on their mining tools as if they had taken a noble head of game. A very similar Shrovetide custom is still observed near Schluckenau in Bohemia. A man dressed up as a Wild Man is chased through several streets till he comes to a narrow lane across which a cord is stretched. He stumbles over the cord and, falling to the ground, is overtaken and caught by his pursuers. The executioner runs up and stabs with his sword a bladder filled with blood which the Wild Man wears round his body; so the Wild Man dies, while a stream of blood reddens the ground. Next day a straw-man, made up to look like the Wild Man, is placed on a litter, and, accompanied by a great crowd, is taken to a pool into which it is thrown by the executioner. The ceremony is called “burying the Carnival.”

In Semic (Bohemia) the custom of beheading the King is observed on Whit-Monday. A troop of young people disguise themselves; each is girt with a girdle of bark and carries a wooden sword and a trumpet of willow-bark. The King wears a robe of tree-bark adorned with flowers, on his head is a crown of bark decked with flowers and branches, his feet are wound about with ferns, a mask hides his face, and for a sceptre he has a hawthorn switch in his hand. A lad leads him through the village by a rope fastened to his foot, while the rest dance about, blow their trumpets, and whistle. In every farmhouse the King is chased round the room, and one of the troop, amid much noise and outcry, strikes with his sword a blow on the King’s robe of bark till it rings again. Then a gratuity is demanded. The ceremony of decapitation, which is here somewhat slurred over, is carried out with a greater semblance of reality in other parts of Bohemia. Thus in some villages of the Königgrätz district on Whit-Monday the girls assemble under one lime-tree and the young men under another, all dressed in their best and tricked out with ribbons. The young men twine a garland for the Queen, and the girls another for the King. When they have chosen the King and Queen they all go in procession two and two, to the ale-house, from the balcony of which the crier proclaims the names of the King and Queen. Both are then invested with the insignia of their office and are crowned with the garlands, while the music plays up. Then some one gets on a bench and accuses the King of various offences, such as ill-treating the cattle. The King appeals to witnesses and a trial ensues, at the close of which the judge, who carries a white wand as his badge of office, pronounces a verdict of “Guilty,” or “Not guilty.” If the verdict is “Guilty,” the judge breaks his wand, the King kneels on a white cloth, all heads are bared, and a soldier sets three or four hats, one above the other, on his Majesty’s head. The judge then pronounces the word “Guilty” thrice in a loud voice, and orders the crier to behead the King. The crier obeys by striking off the King’s hats with the wooden sword.

But perhaps, for our purpose, the most instructive of these mimic executions is the following Bohemian one. In some places of the Pilsen district (Bohemia) on Whit-Monday the King is dressed in bark, ornamented with flowers and ribbons; he wears a crown of gilt paper and rides a horse, which is also decked with flowers. Attended by a judge, an executioner, and other characters, and followed by a train of soldiers, all mounted, he rides to the village square, where a hut or arbour of green boughs has been erected under the May-trees, which are firs, freshly cut, peeled to the top, and dressed with flowers and ribbons. After the dames and maidens of the village have been criticised and a frog beheaded, the cavalcade rides to a place previously determined upon, in a straight, broad street. Here they draw up in two lines and the King takes to flight. He is given a short start and rides off at full speed, pursued by the whole troop. If they fail to catch him he remains King for another year, and his companions must pay his score at the ale-house in the evening. But if they overtake and catch him he is scourged with hazel rods or beaten with the wooden swords and compelled to dismount. Then the executioner asks, “Shall I behead this King?” The answer is given, “Behead him”; the executioner brandishes his axe, and with the words, “One, two, three, let the King headless be!” he strikes off the King’s crown. Amid the loud cries of the bystanders the King sinks to the ground; then he is laid on a bier and carried to the nearest farmhouse.

In most of the personages who are thus slain in mimicry it is impossible not to recognise representatives of the tree-spirit or spirit of vegetation, as he is supposed to manifest himself in spring. The bark, leaves, and flowers in which the actors are dressed, and the season of the year at which they appear, show that they belong to the same class as the Grass King, King of the May, Jack-in-the-Green, and other representatives of the vernal spirit of vegetation which we examined in an earlier part of this work. As if to remove any possible doubt on this head, we find that in two cases these slain men are brought into direct connexion with May-trees, which are the impersonal, as the May King, Grass King, and so forth, are the personal representatives of the tree-spirit. The drenching of the Pfingstl with water and his wading up to the middle into the brook are, therefore, no doubt rain-charms like those which have been already described.

But if these personages represent, as they certainly do, the spirit of vegetation in spring, the question arises, Why kill them? What is the object of slaying the spirit of vegetation at any time and above all in spring, when his services are most wanted? The only probable answer to this question seems to be given in the explanation already proposed of the custom of killing the divine king or priest. The divine life, incarnate in a material and mortal body, is liable to be tainted and corrupted by the weakness of the frail medium in which it is for a time enshrined; and if it is to be saved from the increasing enfeeblement which it must necessarily share with its human incarnation as he advances in years, it must be detached from him before, or at least as soon as, he exhibits signs of decay, in order to be transferred to a vigorous successor. This is done by killing the old representative of the god and conveying the divine spirit from him to a new incarnation. The killing of the god, that is, of his human incarnation, is therefore merely a necessary step to his revival or resurrection in a better form.


http://www.bartleby.com/196/67.html

Frazier is, of course, largely discredited; but it's hard not to gloss this section onto Gawain and suspect an underlying pagan myth of a yearly-beheaded sacrificial King; elsewhere in Frazier there are examples where each King is slain by his successor, who then reigns for a term, and is then slain in turn by his successor.


Just as in Beowulf, we've got the tension here between the then-modern Christian narrative, laid atop and reworking the underlying pagan mythology. Arthur himself -- even in the very earliest sources -- is clearly and explicitly Christian, but the challenger here, the Green Knight, is a figure from celtic, pagan folklore.

So, thing to think about : the King Arthur stories fall into a few "standard formats" and tropes. A petitioner comes to Arthur's hall, asking help, and a knight is sent out. A rebellious king refuses Arthur's reign as High King of Britain and must be subdued. In very early stories, Arthur as a Christian has to subdue various pagans and non-Christian invaders.

Here, all that's sortof combined and subverted. The Green Knight comes into Arthur's hall, at Christmas, a holy Christian festival -- but instead of a Christian seeking aid, he's a creature of pagan magic, bearing pagan symbols (the holly bough). And this pagan challenges Arthur! He's challenging Arthur's right to rule, and he's challenging Christianity itself!

Plus, if we buy into a Frazier-type interpretation of the underlying myth, the challenge is a trap: if Arthur accepts the challenge directly, then he's not ruling under Christ, he's only a pagan king for a year, and in a year he'll have to go submit to the next challenger. So Gawain heroically steps in . . .

Hieronymous Alloy fucked around with this message at 15:48 on Dec 5, 2017

pospysyl
Nov 10, 2012



Yo, this is one of my favorite books! I've read the Armitage and the Tolkien translations. Tolkien's is more difficult to read, since Armitage tries very hard to retain the meter and alliterative qualities of the original, but from what I understand Tolkien's language is more accurate to the poem's meaning and cultural value. I can't honestly say which I prefer, but I'm glad I read Armitage's version in high school and came back to Tolkien's in college.

I hadn't realized John Gardner had done a translation, so maybe I'll take the chance to read his.

BurgerQuest
Mar 17, 2009

by Jeffrey of YOSPOS
I have a copy of this - http://www.imdb.com/title/tt4261304/ - floating around on DVD somewhere if anyone is interested.

chernobyl kinsman
Mar 18, 2007

a friend of the friendly atom

Soiled Meat
some notes on the first few stanzas, if anyone is interested:

the first stanza is setting the poem in a broader historical context as the author and his readers understood it. the best medieval scholarship taught that the Britons (the Welsh) were descended from Brutus, a descendent of Aeneas who sailed west to settle Britain (hence its name, sort of). the bit about Aeneas being a traitor is also derived from medieval tradition, which held that he had betrayed Troy and helped to bring about its downfall. i'm not sure where that came from originally; certainly not the Aeneid.

the third stanza places a heavy emphasis on youth - the new year is 'ȝep', or young, Arthur is 'childgered' (childlike), the court is described as being in its 'first age'. this is a specific moment in time situated within the broader cycle of the rise and fall of kingdoms which was introduced in the first stanza. it's a theme which is reinforced by the reader's foreknowledge: Arthur's kingdom, like troy, will grow old and fall; like troy, it will be brought low by treason. this cycle of death and rebirth has obvious seasonal resonances, too, since this is yuletide and the New Year. this also relates to the central motif of the Beheading Game, which is of course itself connected to the passing of seasons and lives.

hopefully some of that made sense, it's late and i've had wine.

VileLL
Oct 3, 2015


you fellows might also want to check out this site if you enjoy:

http://d.lib.rochester.edu/teams/catalog

it's a vast collection of middle English texts, with something of an Arthurian focus - recommend taking a look through 'Sir Gawain: Eleven Romances and Tales' for a couple of other versions of the Green Knight story, should also help develop an understanding of how Gawain typically works as a character. The Awyntyrs off Gawain, in that volume, is probably the most introspective piece in the genre that I've seen, also recommended.

e:

Hieronymous Alloy posted:

So, thing to think about : the King Arthur stories fall into a few "standard formats" and tropes. A petitioner comes to Arthur's hall, asking help, and a knight is sent out. A rebellious king refuses Arthur's reign as High King of Britain and must be subdued. In very early stories, Arthur as a Christian has to subdue various pagans and non-Christian invaders.

Here, all that's sortof combined and subverted. The Green Knight comes into Arthur's hall, at Christmas, a holy Christian festival -- but instead of a Christian seeking aid, he's a creature of pagan magic, bearing pagan symbols (the holly bough). And this pagan challenges Arthur! He's challenging Arthur's right to rule, and he's challenging Christianity itself!

couple of points - worth considering a third major genre: the forest encounter. Typically, there's a mysterious meeting between Arthur/ a knight (there's dozens of Gawain ones in particular) and a somewhat unnatural figure - like the Green Knight, for instance. Subsequently, there'll be an adventure involving whatever's been encountered, and there'll usually be some suggestion of the magical. While 'liminal spaces' is something of an overused term, the forest is typically understood as such, the kind of place where one might reasonable encounter a monster, magical maiden or other mystery. Consider how Gawain ends up finding Bertilak's castle.

Beyond that, I'd hardly call the encounter a subversion of genre expectations - I'd recommend checking out the book I mentioned above for a couple of other versions of the same (Gawain and the Grene Knight, Gawain and the Turk)

VileLL fucked around with this message at 12:16 on Dec 7, 2017

Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


Why! Why!! Why must you refuse to accept that Dr. Hieronymous Alloy's Genetically Enhanced Cream Corn Is Superior to the Leading Brand on the Market!?!




Morbid Hound

VileLL posted:

you fellows might also want to check out this site if you enjoy:

http://d.lib.rochester.edu/teams/catalog

it's a vast collection of middle English texts, with something of an Arthurian focus - recommend taking a look through 'Sir Gawain: Eleven Romances and Tales' for a couple of other versions of the Green Knight story, should also help develop an understanding of how Gawain typically works as a character. The Awyntyrs off Gawain, in that volume, is probably the most introspective piece in the genre that I've seen, also recommended.


oooooooh

quote:

e:

couple of points - worth considering a third major genre: the forest encounter. Typically, there's a mysterious meeting between Arthur/ a knight (there's dozens of Gawain ones in particular) and a somewhat unnatural figure - like the Green Knight, for instance. Subsequently, there'll be an adventure involving whatever's been encountered, and there'll usually be some suggestion of the magical. While 'liminal spaces' is something of an overused term, the forest is typically understood as such, the kind of place where one might reasonable encounter a monster, magical maiden or other mystery. Consider how Gawain ends up finding Bertilak's castle.

Beyond that, I'd hardly call the encounter a subversion of genre expectations - I'd recommend checking out the book I mentioned above for a couple of other versions of the same (Gawain and the Grene Knight, Gawain and the Turk)

Yeah, I left out forest encounter stories because Arthur's in his hall in this one, but yeah, especially if you read the Green Knight as a "Green Man" type figure, this is quite literally a forest encounter!

And yeah "subversion" was probably too strong. I just meant that someone's coming into Arthur's hall as a challenger rather than as a supplicant.

Hieronymous Alloy fucked around with this message at 14:15 on Dec 7, 2017

BravestOfTheLamps
Oct 12, 2012

by FactsAreUseless
Lipstick Apathy
I think I have the Oxford classics translation buried somewhere.

Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


Why! Why!! Why must you refuse to accept that Dr. Hieronymous Alloy's Genetically Enhanced Cream Corn Is Superior to the Leading Brand on the Market!?!




Morbid Hound
I'm reading through the footnotes in Tolkien's critical edition and he throws shade left and right:

Footnote to line 992:

quote:

Possibly, as Hulbert and Knott suggest [citation omitted], knyet should be read, as more likely than lord to give rise to the MS error kyng; but lord is more than thirty times applied to Bertilak, and alliteration rather than internal rhyme is normal in the wheel. That kyng is an error, and not a mysterious vestige of a mythological analogue, cannot be doubted in light of the poet's words everywhere else.

So much for my golden bough king-of-the-year theory

chernobyl kinsman
Mar 18, 2007

a friend of the friendly atom

Soiled Meat

Hieronymous Alloy posted:

So much for my golden bough king-of-the-year theory

the bough may be largely discredited but i dont think anyone really doubts that the Beheading Game is a vestige of an old celtic year king/fertility myth, anymore than anyone doubts that the Loathly Lady of Chaucer's Wife of Bath's Tale (and the Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle/the Marriage of Sir Gawain, both of which are available on the METS website in the Gawain romances edition) is an Irish sovereignty goddess

for that matter Guinevere is beyond a doubt an attenuated mythological figure. her name (Gwenhwyfar in Welsh) is cognate with the Irish Findabair, daughter of Ailil and Medb (Queen Mab), and means 'white ghost'

Gawain himself probably contains some mythical elements as well; the bit about how his strength waxes with the rising sun until noon and then wanes (not attested in SGGK but widely mentioned elsewhere) likely points to some old solar hero attributes

e: while I'm talking about sources, this is my favorite take on the question of the historical arthur. i'm slightly biased because i studied under this guy, but i think it's a brilliant read. its a JSTOR link but you should be able to read it online without institutional access if you make an account, otherwise i can email it to anyone who's interested

chernobyl kinsman fucked around with this message at 19:53 on Dec 10, 2017

Jrbg
May 20, 2014

I feel incredibly late to this thread!

It's the single best narrative poem in the English language. Better than Milton, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Pope, anyone. Everything about it, its knotted language, which fits with the gnarly old landscape it's evoking, its twisting, erotic, baffling story, its deconstruction of Gawain as a hero, its beautiful religious symbolism, I could lap this up. It's very serious in mood compared to Chaucer and a lot of other Middle English literature, especially romances of the time, but it makes up for it.

I think I'm going to reread a fitt at a time in the original Middle English, it will be cool to see what I get out of it this go around.

Can I talk a bit about Lud's Church and green?

It's theorised that the 'green chapel' at the climax of the book in Fitt IV is this place.



What a picture of the place can't quite convey to you is that even in the depths of winter this place is really green. There are loads of different shades of green as you walk down, the moss and lichen kind of shimmers. It's spooky as hell, it feels alive. It's got that eldritch feeling.

Green is interesting, and possibly deliberate. Every colour in the Middle Ages was usually associated with some kind of liturgical property, some kind of myth. Everything was God's signature on the Creation, and things were linked symbolically in often esoteric ways. But green is very indeterminate. It can be associated with bad things like envy (as it still is today) but also, obviously, good things like the bounty of nature. The greenness of the poem feels purposefully ambiguous and elusive. It's not the Green Man by the way.

The illustrations in Cotton Nero A.x. are kinda bad compared to its contemporaries, but they illustrate that the Green Knight's greenness is different, it's darker and more golden (sorry for the unwieldy link). I'm not sure whether to read anything into why all the men in the illustrations look like Arthur, who looks like the dreamer in Pearl, which is in the same manuscript.

Stuporstar
May 5, 2008

Where do fists come from?
Is this a similar edition to the Simon Armitage facing page edition linked in the OP? Because it seems to be the version published within Canada and it might ship a little faster. Also the Kindle edition linked on that page is not the same thing at all.

In the meantime, I've been attemping to read the linked ME versions, and really appreciate the notes you guys have been posting, because I never took any courses in Medieval English literature.

Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


Why! Why!! Why must you refuse to accept that Dr. Hieronymous Alloy's Genetically Enhanced Cream Corn Is Superior to the Leading Brand on the Market!?!




Morbid Hound

J_RBG posted:


It's theorised that the 'green chapel' at the climax of the book in Fitt IV is this place.



What a picture of the place can't quite convey to you is that even in the depths of winter this place is really green. There are loads of different shades of green as you walk down, the moss and lichen kind of shimmers. It's spooky as hell, it feels alive. It's got that eldritch feeling.

The Simon Armitage documentary visits this place (but not in winter for some reason):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74glI1lg1CQ&t=3084s

Stuporstar posted:

Is this a similar edition to the Simon Armitage facing page edition linked in the OP? Because it seems to be the version published within Canada and it might ship a little faster. Also the Kindle edition linked on that page is not the same thing at all.

Yeah, the Kindle edition short-circuits over to some random cheapo public domain translation that should be free anyway.

I *think* this is the Kindle version of the Armitage translation : https://www.amazon.ca/Gawain-Green-...gawain+armitage . I found it by searching for "Simon Armitage" in the Kindle Store.

This is the cover on the facing-page edition I got at the Barnes & Noble:

Hieronymous Alloy fucked around with this message at 05:04 on Dec 11, 2017

chernobyl kinsman
Mar 18, 2007

a friend of the friendly atom

Soiled Meat
weirdly the UK printing of the Armitage translation is not facing page, iirc

Shibawanko
Feb 13, 2013

Gawaine was definitely the most memorable of the medieval literature I've read.

Stuporstar
May 5, 2008

Where do fists come from?

chernobyl kinsman posted:

weirdly the UK printing of the Armitage translation is not facing page, iirc

drat. That's exactly what I wanted to know. Thanks. I guess I'll be waiting for the US edition then. In the meantime, I'll keep at the ME versions online.

chernobyl kinsman
Mar 18, 2007

a friend of the friendly atom

Soiled Meat
here they've digitzed the entirety of the manuscript in which SGGK survives. it starts on this page. it's worth a look to get an idea of a) the illustrations (illuminations) and b( how wildly differently the text is formatted in the manuscript vs. in modern printed editions

Stuporstar posted:

drat. That's exactly what I wanted to know. Thanks. I guess I'll be waiting for the US edition then. In the meantime, I'll keep at the ME versions online.

try this, which is Tolkien's edition of the middle english with glosses for just about every problematic word. just click on each line number and it will expand to give the definitions. it's a little effort intensive, but still better (and more faithful) than jumping back and forth between a facing page translation, imo

chernobyl kinsman fucked around with this message at 08:02 on Dec 11, 2017

Stuporstar
May 5, 2008

Where do fists come from?

chernobyl kinsman posted:

here they've digitzed the entirety of the manuscript in which SGGK survives. it starts on this page. it's worth a look to get an idea of a) the illustrations (illuminations) and b( how wildly differently the text is formatted in the manuscript vs. in modern printed editions


try this, which is Tolkien's edition of the middle english with glosses for just about every problematic word. just click on each line number and it will expand to give the definitions. it's a little effort intensive, but still better (and more faithful) than jumping back and forth between a facing page translation, imo

Very cool, thanks. Six stanzas in, and I'm just starting to get the hang of it. There's about a dozen words I keep getting caught on because I've not come across them before, but a lot of them I haven't needed the translation for, after getting used to the way they're spelled.

Groke
Jul 27, 2007
New Adventures In Mom Strength

chernobyl kinsman posted:

try this, which is Tolkien's edition of the middle english with glosses for just about every problematic word. just click on each line number and it will expand to give the definitions. it's a little effort intensive, but still better (and more faithful) than jumping back and forth between a facing page translation, imo

Awe. Some. Link goes in bookmarks.

I'm mainly reading the Tolkien translation but it's cool to look at the Middle English also -- don't have any experience with that at all, but I am Norwegian and did the usual brief coverage of Old Norse back in school, and there are more than a few similarities.

CestMoi
Sep 16, 2011

J_RBG posted:

its deconstruction of Gawain as a hero,


This is absolutely one of my favourite bits of the poem, and probably of just about any piece of literature I've read in the past couple of years. The irony at play with Gawain's betrayal of his own values for a belt that doesn't even work and the sheer shame he feels at that and then turning up back at the court and having everyone praise him for failing horribly as a knight and then taking the very mark of his failure and turning it into a nice thing that everyone just wears is wonderful.

CestMoi
Sep 16, 2011

Gawain is the most ironical hero and I bloody love him

chernobyl kinsman
Mar 18, 2007

a friend of the friendly atom

Soiled Meat

Groke posted:

I am Norwegian and did the usual brief coverage of Old Norse back in school, and there are more than a few similarities.

yes! some of that is from shared derivations as germanic languages, but a fair portion is importation directly from old norse via contact - with the vikings, when they took over half of britain

Dr. Kloctopussy
Apr 22, 2003

"It's time....to DIE!"
I read some random translation of this ages ago, and it didn't really stick with me. Ordered the Armitage version and am excited to give this a serious read.

Thanks everyone posting amazing contextual information in the thread, it's super helpful and interesting.

mbt
Aug 13, 2012

halfway through, it's a blast so far

I'm very bad at understanding middle english so I mostly just read the translated armitage version, but you better believe I read every middle english 'wheel' section aloud

it really is a beautiful poem

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Hieronymous Alloy
Jan 30, 2009


Why! Why!! Why must you refuse to accept that Dr. Hieronymous Alloy's Genetically Enhanced Cream Corn Is Superior to the Leading Brand on the Market!?!




Morbid Hound

Meyers-Briggs Testicle posted:

halfway through, it's a blast so far

I'm very bad at understanding middle english so I mostly just read the translated armitage version, but you better believe I read every middle english 'wheel' section aloud

it really is a beautiful poem

Tolkien's critical edition has a footnote about the "wheel" sections; from the name I thought the "wheel" was the main text block and the "bob" was the little blurb, but actually the wheel is the tiny blurb at the bottom and the bob is the line connecting the wheel to the text block. The wheel sections also appear to have been written after the main text -- nothing narrative happens in them, they're purely descriptive additions -- but before the poem was written down by the scribe of the surviving Norfolk manuscript.

Went googling trying to find tolkien's exact quote for a copy/paste and found this blog entry:

quote:

Probably the most notable aspect of Gawain and the Green Knight is its poetic structure. It was written at the height of a period called the Alliterative Revival, which briefly brought alliterative verse back into vogue in parts of Europe. Alliterative verse is similar to rhyming verse except that it uses – you guessed it – alliteration instead of rhyming to form the primary structure of a work. Gawain and the Green Knight is an eccentric work because it combines a strong alliterative structure with a “bob and wheel” – a rhymed, four-line stanza (the “wheel”) with a very short line (the “bob”) connecting it to the previous stanza.

. . .

Overall, Gawain and the Green Knight is a poem that feels old.

https://offwhitestuff.wordpress.com/tag/bob-and-wheel/


I hadn't really thought about the use of heavy alliteration in the poem because in my head the line goes Beowulf --> Gawain, but of course there's a seven hundred year gap there.

quote:

The Alliterative Revival is a term adopted by academics to refer to the resurgence of poetry using the alliterative verse form in Middle English between c. 1350 and 1500. Alliterative verse was the traditional versification of Old English poetry; the last known alliterative poem known before the revival was Layamon's Brut, which dates from around 1190.

Opinion is divided as to whether the reappearance of such poems represents a conscious revival of an old artistic tradition, or merely signifies that despite the tradition continuing in some form between 1200 and 1350, no poems have survived in written form. Major works of the Alliterative Revival include William Langland's Piers Plowman, the Alliterative Morte Arthure, and the works of the Pearl Poet: Pearl, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Cleanness, and Patience.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alliterative_Revival

Hieronymous Alloy fucked around with this message at 17:48 on Dec 12, 2017

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