October 23rd

hills hide the dragon

his breath crawls from old dark vents

seething in the fog

Whenever I see fog, especially that rolling fog which seems alive, I think of the film Excalibur, directed by John Boorman. Silly really, but it makes me think of the Dragon, which Merlin (the wonderfully cast Nicol Williamson who died this year) uses as his source of power. The film is cheesy but also elemental in it’s impact, brutal, violent, touching, heroic. It’s a great romp which combines both the Celtic mythology and the romantically influenced chivalrous take on the Arthurian legends from such authors as Sir Thomas Malory which came centuries later.

Merlin and Guenevere played by Nigel Terry and Cheri Lunghi (rights to photo- Excalibur movie)

In the film, Merlin is eventually tricked by the beautiful half sister of King Arthur Morgana (played by the timeless beauty Helen Mirren) and beguiled, so she inherits and learns the Charm of Making. It seems the actors were not on the best of terms to put it mildly, which Boorman used to his advantage in filming. There is a very believable (uncomfortable) dynamic between them in their shared scenes.

Merlin and Morgana (Nicol Williamson and Helen Mirren), they both look thoroughly annoyed to be sharing this intimate moment. (rights to photo –Excalibur movie)

So back to Morgana… After stealing the charm of making, she wielded the power of the dragon, the dragon’s breath to make magic and wage war on her brother (King Arthur – the underrated Nigel Terry) with their own incestuous offspring Modred. It all culminates in a final tragic battle, but I’d be spoiling it if I told you more. What I will say is it has a smattering of well respected British luvvies hamming it up to high heaven and uses a fantastic score, Wagner’s the Death of Siegfried and Orff’s Carmina Burana are exceptionally placed. I’d recommend it. Great movie.

But yes, the fog, I drove through it, thick as treacle. Whose to say there was no dragon out there? Belching fog all over Bedfordshire, before retiring to slumber back under Pegsdon Hills (I’ve convinced myself a dragon lives there).

Finally, here is a scene at the beginning of the film where a mortal weary Merlin allows Arthur’s dad Uther (Gabriel Byrne) to go and conceive him with someone else’s wife… tut tut. But despite this displeasure at such mortal lust, Merlin knew, with the power of his “sight” that a great King would be made of this union…

August 31st

Seven swans flying

a silent glide across the grey

the sky a still pool

I was on the bus going from the airport into central Dublin and I saw the unusual sight of seven swans flying. So powerful yet effortless they drove through the sky. It made me think of the Children of Lir, enchanted by their adopted mother, cursed to spend nine hundred years as swans. When their curse was lifted and they became human again, no one they knew was still alive, the world had changed. Such a sad tale.

In the evening I heard this song live. I felt introspective and reflective. I was listening to this album around the time my mum died.

June 8th

flatland fringes end

reassured by cold stone weight

the ninth wave crashes

The Ninth Wave is lifted from Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s Idylls of the King*. I used to love Tennyson when I was younger. Sod knows why a north London working class lad was so much into the Arthurian romances, but I read about them voraciously. I also read Le Morte D’Arthur by Sir Thomas Malory. The modern English translation was, from memory, still very challenging for someone of my competence (and no doubt it would also be today). I then got into the art of the Pre-Raphaelites, the tragic realism of their depictions of myth, history and romance. And the gorgeous laydeez they painted of course. (I think that was the appropriate ‘street’ spelling of ‘ladies’ there).

Below is the Lady of Shallot by John William Waterhouse (1888), another Arthurian subject of Tennyson, although like most things Arthurian, the poem’s story was cobbled together from a number of sources/legends/historical facts, who knows who the true Arthur was, let alone what he and his peers got up to.

(pic from wikipedia)

Despite my above average academic abilities, I got cut from taking English Literature at school. This was from a time when you just stoically accepted that teachers knew best. What it meant was I was shut out from some wonderful books, which although I might not necessarily have appreciated at the time, would have given me a different outlook and set me up in some small way for the future. It’s a small moan, I admit, but it’s not borne of a deep seated rage, more of an observation. People must still take responsibilities for themselves so I have no gripe or simmering regret to this incident. I think I’ve turned out alright! But who knows, I might have been given an honorary doctorate for some reason or other (much like Mike Tyson) had I taken English Literature at school.

But.. Back to Arthurian Romances. Why? I think they played into the moral values I loved. People who wanted to do good, but were in some way flawed (Lancelot). People who wanted to do good, often did, but were flawed and let down by those they loved (Arthur). People who could achieve great things from humble origins (Percival).

They are archetypes. Whether they appear in comic books, Arthurian romance or mythology, they pull levers deep set in our psyche somewhere. Or at least in mine! Especially comic books!

So here I was, standing on Aldeburgh beach at dusk, holding a beautiful two tone pebble. Listening to the sea, thinking how wonderful the moment was. How it couldn’t last. How in a few years, the very spot I was standing on might well be under those waves as East Anglia is always at risk of the sea reclaiming it. But we live for moments like that, most of life is a flatline, with small peaks of wonder and light. This was one of those moments.

Extract from Idylls of the King, The Coming of Arthur

It seemed in heaven, a ship, the shape thereof
A dragon winged, and all from stern to stern
Bright with a shining people on the decks,
And gone as soon as seen. And then the two
Dropt to the cove, and watched the great sea fall,
Wave after wave, each mightier than the last,
Till last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep
And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged
Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame:
And down the wave and in the flame was borne
A naked babe, and rode to Merlin's feet,
Who stoopt and caught the babe, and cried "The King!

My pebble and the ninth wave -

* – Kate Bush, someone who is significantly more famous and talented than me, also used The Ninth Wave as a concept for her Hounds of Love album. And what an album it is too. Side one is the commercial side, magnificent, a pinnacle of her talents, but side two is just immense, so out there, beguiling, mysterious, almost frightening. Just thought I’d mention that.