We can often feel a strong desire for mythical and legendary figures to be based on some kind of historical reality – while we know that obviously not every aspect of the story can be true it would be so much nicer if a good story was at least be worthy of the dubious“Based on a True Story” tag used for so many Hollywood movies. In his book King Arthur: The Making of a Legend, Nicholas Higham systematically tears apart the myth of the historical Arthur piece by piece. It is impressive in its thoroughness and remarkably readable despite its complexity. This is not a book that sets out to convince academics, who are largely already on the same page as Higham, but rather one for general Dark Ages enthusiasts. As Higham notes, while it is all well and good for the idea of the historic Arthur to be largely ignored within academia, it still holds significant sway in popular imagination and histories and so he took it upon himself to show why there can be no historic Arthur. Higham is making good on the notion that instead of secluding themselves from the myths of public imagination, historians must be out in the trenches fighting them.
I will say right out the gate that if you want a book about how aspects of the story of Arthur, including the Knights of the Round Table, were introduced into the mythical canon this is not the book for you. Higham doesn’t completely ignore the French romance tradition, for example he does have interesting asides about the origins of Camelot and the Holy Grail within the Arthurian story but examining how each individual element built upon Arthur’s story is not the purpose of this book. This is a book concerned with King Arthur first, other characters like Guinevere or Lancelot only enter the narrative when their paths intersect with the question of Arthur’s origins. This means that Higham focuses more on the British Arthurian traditions rather than the continental ones.
However, if you ever wondered whether King Arthur had a historical basis, or if you’re just interested in the origins of the story of King Arthur specifically, then Higham’s book is the one for you. The book is broadly divided into two sections. The first concerns arguments that place Arthur’s origins outside of Britain. The most popular of these theories argues that Arthur was a member of the Roman military who served for a time in Britain. Other theories Higham dismantles include arguments that the Arthurian myths have their origins in oral traditions of the Caucasus or astronomical myths of ancient Greece, these having merely been adapted to a British setting by later writers. In setting about tearing these arguments down Higham provides plenty of fascinating information about Imperial Roman history and oral and written folklore and mythology of the eastern Mediterranean. You’ll find yourself learning about a lot more than just Arthur in this book.
The second section of the book focuses on the British origins of the Arthurian story, picking apart what we know about fifth century Britain – in particular what the author Gildas does and, more importantly, does not say about this period. Higham then moves through various literary and historical works from the early and central Middle Ages that mention, or could be interpreted as mentioning if one reads them generously, Arthur in a historical context. These all lead up to Geoffrey of Monmouth’s History of the Kings of Britain which played a central role in popularising the story of King Arthur but also has little to no basis in actual historical fact. Parts of these sections can be a bit hard to follow, particularly if you aren’t used to tackling complex matters of medieval writing and authorship, but Higham does a good job at not overloading the reader and in repeating information periodically so if you didn’t quite catch it the first time you have another chance later. I would say that I think Higham is a little too dismissive of the length of time an oral tradition can be kept alive. I don’t think he’s wrong in this particular circumstance, but I do think he overstates the general point when a more specific argument about the possibility of lost Arthurian oral traditions would have made a stronger case.
If I were to quibble with Higham’s book it would be that I think the structure can be a tad hard to follow in places. The task of structuring a book like this is immense and Higham mostly does a good job, but there are places where it jumps between points a bit abruptly and I found myself having to backtrack and re-read a few pages to catch my bearings. It’s hardly a significant flaw, but it was one area where I struggled a bit.
If you’ll permit me a slight aside, there’s another book I read some years ago that pretty significantly altered my thoughts on the idea of searching for a historical original for a mythic or fantastical figure of myth and legend. That book was Crusoe’s Island by Andrew Lambert. This was a history of Robinson Crusoe Island, an island in the Juan Fernández Islands off the coast of Chile. The Scottish sailor Alexander Selkirk was marooned on the then uninhabited island from 1704-1709. His story of isolation and survival was an inspiration for Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, and the association between the two is so strong that the island Selkirk was stranded on was renamed after the famous fictional character in the 1960s. The thing is, in the story Robinson Crusoe was stranded on an island off the coast of Venezuala, near Trinidad, and Crusoe famously wasn’t alone – there is his companion Friday as well as the cannibals that he fights on multiple occasions. The story of Robinson Crusoe contains very little overlap with that of Alexander Selkirk, but that has not stopped people from viewing Selkirk as the ‘historical’ Robinson Crusoe - so much so that they renamed an island after his fictional ‘counterpart.’ My point here is that the story of the fictional character shares only the most superficial elements with the real figure that inspired Defoe to write his work, and I wonder what value there even is in viewing Selkirk as a ‘real’ Robinson Crusoe. I think it is worth questioning what we mean when we say that someone was the inspiration for a character in a work of fiction - particularly when we’re trying to identify someone in a historical record who could be that ‘real’ version. If we ignore Selkirk surely any shipwrecked sailor who survived on an island could be the ‘historic’ Robinson Crusoe.
Overall, King Arthur: The Making of a Legend is a fascinating read and if you are interested in the origins of the story of Arthur it is well worth a read – just bear in mind that it is only concerned with the origins of Arthur’s story and is very light on details about what followed once he became a household name in medieval Europe.