You could say that I’m an Arthuriana tragic, but I would snootily say that I am a discerning Arthuriana tragic. I will not read/watch just every version of Camelot that comes along, these days; I got that out of my system a long time ago. These days what I’m after is something that does Arthuriana differently, cleverly, and/or insightfully. And preferably does it with a knowledge of the enormous weight of history that it carries. Which is why Lavie Tidhar’s By Force Alone knocked me over; Tidhar faces not only TH White and Malory but also the very earliest Celtic stuff, and includes some super deep cuts that made me intensely happy (why yes, I did do a semester-long subject about King Arthur as part of my undergrad).

Lev Grossman was a guest at the Melbourne Writers’ Festival this year. I actually had no idea this book existed until I saw it in the programme, so of course I went along to hear what he had to say. He and CS Pacat had a very engaging and lively conversation, which led to me buying the book right after. One of the most interesting things Grossman said is that he thinks the whole Arthur story can be re-imagined for each generation to basically reflect current issues and ideas. So from this perspective White, in the aftermath of WW2, is writing about the impact of violence on society. Grossman sees himself writing around the idea of what it means to be part of a people, a nation, and how that works. He also deliberately set out to write a gender and sexuality-inclusive narrative. (Which is great, but I sat there wondering whether he or Pacat had read the Tidhar…).

The most intriguing thing about The Bright Sword is when it’s set, which is in the weeks after Arthur has been struck down, as have most of the knights of the Round Table. A new, bright-eyed young knight arrives at Camelot to find in disarray and the remaining knights utterly disillusioned. The story goes from there: what happens next? Woven around that is the backstory of those knights who are left, as well as Nimue, and their reflections on Arthur and Guinevere and Merlin and “England” and everything that happened with Camelot.

This was not a saintly, perfect, Camelot – although not as rugged as Tidhar’s. It’s good to see the problem of Uther’s rape of Ygraine properly acknowledged, for example. It touches on the Christianity/old religion issue, and some of the other things that have come up in Arthur reworkings over the last several decades. And because of where the story starts – with Arthur already gone – the end of the story feels genuinely innovative and unexpected.

This is a worthy entry into the Arthuriana landscape. Centring Sir Palomides, the Saracen knight, and Sir Bedievere, let alone Sir Dagonet or Sir Dinadan or Sir Constantine – these make for a fascinating story, and one that points out that side characters can be real characters. I have to confess, though, that I still think Tidhar’s book is a more challenging and clever one.