I recently introduced the King Arthur stories to my 3.5-year-old son (via the Usborne collection, which is quite good), and was reminded again of how grim the overall arc of the stories is. I think that a lot of people who’ve never read original Arthurian literature, or even a well-done modern retelling, assume that Camelot is some sort of shining city on a hill and Arthur is a parfait gentil knyght, and aren’t aware of how realistically messy all of the characters are. (Except Galahad, but dude is literally too good for this world and also quite boring…) I had to resist the urge to try to (for lack of a better word) domesticate the stories for him, and to just let him grapple with the weirdness and the sadness and the fact that it all ends in tears. I was raised on those stories, and will admit that there is absolutely a part of me that believes that our once and future king is not dead, but sleeping until we have need of him, and I want him to be moved in the same way.
Heroism is not in vogue in modern-day children’s literature - it’s mostly stories about standing up for the all-important virtue of Not Hurting People’s Feelings - and most of the knights would definitely be getting cancelled today in any case (Gawain is the West Elm Caleb of Camelot, and don’t get me started on Lancelot…). But I want my sons to aspire to higher things than being nice and pursuing individual self-actualization, and there is a richness in these old, strange stories that will do far more for their moral development than much of what is served up as appropriate for children today.
This made me smile so much. One of the most purely enjoyable things you’ve written—as well as pointing out that there is still reason to hope and rejoice evermore!
I recently introduced the King Arthur stories to my 3.5-year-old son (via the Usborne collection, which is quite good), and was reminded again of how grim the overall arc of the stories is. I think that a lot of people who’ve never read original Arthurian literature, or even a well-done modern retelling, assume that Camelot is some sort of shining city on a hill and Arthur is a parfait gentil knyght, and aren’t aware of how realistically messy all of the characters are. (Except Galahad, but dude is literally too good for this world and also quite boring…) I had to resist the urge to try to (for lack of a better word) domesticate the stories for him, and to just let him grapple with the weirdness and the sadness and the fact that it all ends in tears. I was raised on those stories, and will admit that there is absolutely a part of me that believes that our once and future king is not dead, but sleeping until we have need of him, and I want him to be moved in the same way.
Heroism is not in vogue in modern-day children’s literature - it’s mostly stories about standing up for the all-important virtue of Not Hurting People’s Feelings - and most of the knights would definitely be getting cancelled today in any case (Gawain is the West Elm Caleb of Camelot, and don’t get me started on Lancelot…). But I want my sons to aspire to higher things than being nice and pursuing individual self-actualization, and there is a richness in these old, strange stories that will do far more for their moral development than much of what is served up as appropriate for children today.
This made me smile so much. One of the most purely enjoyable things you’ve written—as well as pointing out that there is still reason to hope and rejoice evermore!