From Ritual to Romance
From Ritual to RomancePrefaceCHAPTER ICHAPTER IICHAPTER IIICHAPTER IVPART II. ADONISCHAPTER VCHAPTER VICHAPTER VIICHAPTER VIIIAPPENDIX TO CHAPTER VIIICHAPTER IXCHAPTER XCHAPTER XICHAPTER XIICHAPTER XIIICHAPTER XIVNOTESCopyright
From Ritual to Romance
Jessie L. Weston
Preface
In the introductory Chapter the reader will find the aim
and object of these studies set forth at length. In view of the
importance and complexity of the problems involved it seemed better
to incorporate such a statement in the book itself, rather than
relegate it to a Preface which all might not trouble to read. Yet I
feel that such a general statement does not adequately express my
full debt of obligation.Among the many whose labour has been laid under contribution
in the following pages there are certain scholars whose published
work, or personal advice, has been specially illuminating, and to
whom specific acknowledgment is therefore due. Like many others I
owe to Sir J. G. Frazer the initial inspiration which set me, as I
may truly say, on the road to the Grail Castle. Without the
guidance of The Golden Bough I should probably, as the late M.
Gaston Paris happily expressed it, still be wandering in the forest
of Broceliande!During the Bayreuth Festival of 1911 I had frequent
opportunities of meeting, and discussion with, Professor von
Schroeder. I owe to him not only the introduction to his own work,
which I found most helpful, but references which have been of the
greatest assistance; e.g. my knowledge of Cumont's Les Religions
Orientales, and Scheftelowitz's valuable study on Fish Symbolism,
both of which have furnished important links in the chain of
evidence, is due to Professor von Schroeder.The perusal of Miss J. E. Harrison's Themis opened my eyes to
the extended importance of these Vegetation rites. In view of the
evidence there adduced I asked myself whether beliefs which had
found expression not only in social institution, and popular
custom, but, as set forth in Sir G. Murray's study on Greek
Dramatic Origins, attached to the work, also in Drama and
Literature, might not reasonably—even inevitably—be expected to
have left their mark on Romance? The one seemed to me a necessary
corollary of the other, and I felt that I had gained, as the result
of Miss Harrison's work, a wider, and more assured basis for my own
researches. I was no longer engaged merely in enquiring into the
sources of a fascinating legend, but on the identification of
another field of activity for forces whose potency as agents of
evolution we were only now beginning rightly to
appreciate.Finally, a casual reference, in Anrich's work on the
Mysteries, to the Naassene Document, caused me to apply to Mr G. R.
S. Mead, of whose knowledge of the mysterious border-land between
Christianity and Paganism, and willingness to place that knowledge
at the disposal of others, I had, for some years past, had pleasant
experience. Mr Mead referred me to his own translation and analysis
of the text in question, and there, to my satisfaction, I found,
not only the final link that completed the chain of evolution from
Pagan Mystery to Christian Ceremonial, but also proof of that wider
significance I was beginning to apprehend. The problem involved was
not one of Folk-lore, not even one of Literature, but of
Comparative Religion in its widest sense.Thus, while I trust that my co-workers in the field of
Arthurian research will accept these studies as a permanent
contribution to the elucidation of the Grail problem, I would fain
hope that those scholars who labour in a wider field, and to whose
works I owe so much, may find in the results here set forth
elements that may prove of real value in the study of the evolution
of religious belief.
CHAPTER I
IntroductoryIn view of the extensive literature to which the Grail legend
has already given birth it may seem that the addition of another
volume to the already existing corpus calls for some words of
apology and explanation. When the student of the subject
contemplates the countless essays and brochures, the volumes of
studies and criticism, which have been devoted to this fascinating
subject, the conflicting character of their aims, their hopelessly
contradictory results, he, or she, may well hesitate before adding
another element to such a veritable witches' cauldron of apparently
profitless study. And indeed, were I not convinced that the theory
advocated in the following pages contains in itself the element
that will resolve these conflicting ingredients into one harmonious
compound I should hardly feel justified in offering a further
contribution to the subject.But it is precisely because upwards of thirty years' steady
and persevering study of the Grail texts has brought me gradually
and inevitably to certain very definite conclusions, has placed me
in possession of evidence hitherto ignored, or unsuspected, that I
venture to offer the result in these studies, trusting that they
may be accepted as, what I believe them to be, a genuine
Elucidation of the Grail problem.My fellow-workers in this field know all too well the
essential elements of that problem; I do not need here to go over
already well-trodden ground; it will be sufficient to point out
certain salient features of the position.The main difficulty of our research lies in the fact that the
Grail legend consists of a congeries of widely differing
elements—elements which at first sight appear hopelessly
incongruous, if not completely contradictory, yet at the same time
are present to an extent, and in a form, which no honest critic can
afford to ignore.Thus it has been perfectly possible for one group of
scholars, relying upon the undeniably Christian-Legendary elements,
preponderant in certain versions, to maintain the thesis that the
Grail legend is ab initio a Christian, and ecclesiastical, legend,
and to analyse the literature on that basis alone.Another group, with equal reason, have pointed to the
strongly marked Folk-lore features preserved in the tale, to its
kinship with other themes, mainly of Celtic provenance, and have
argued that, while the later versions of the cycle have been worked
over by ecclesiastical writers in the interests of edification, the
story itself is non-Christian, and Folk-lore in
origin.Both groups have a basis of truth for their arguments: the
features upon which they rely are, in each case, undeniably
present, yet at the same time each line of argument is faced with
certain insuperable difficulties, fatal to the claims
advanced.Thus, the theory of Christian origin breaks down when faced
with the awkward fact that there is no Christian legend concerning
Joseph of Arimathea and the Grail. Neither in Legendary, nor in
Art, is there any trace of the story; it has no existence outside
the Grail literature, it is the creation of romance, and no genuine
tradition.On this very ground it was severely criticized by the Dutch
writerJacob van Maerlant, in 1260. In his Merlin he
denounces the wholeGrail history as lies, asserting
that the Church knows nothing ofit—which is
true.In the same way the advocate of a Folk-lore origin is met
with the objection that the section of the cycle for which such a
source can be definitely proved, i.e., the Perceval story, has
originally nothing whatever to do with the Grail; and that, while
parallels can be found for this or that feature of the legend, such
parallels are isolated in character and involve the breaking up of
the tale into a composite of mutually independent themes. A
prototype, containing the main features of the Grail story—the
Waste Land, the Fisher King, the Hidden Castle with its solemn
Feast, and mysterious Feeding Vessel, the Bleeding Lance and
Cup—does not, so far as we know, exist. None of the great
collections of Folk-tales, due to the industry of a Cosquin, a
Hartland, or a Campbell, has preserved specimens of such a type; it
is not such a story as, e.g., The Three Days Tournament, examples
of which are found all over the world. Yet neither the advocate of
a Christian origin, nor the Folk-lorist, can afford to ignore the
arguments, and evidence of the opposing school, and while the
result of half a century of patient investigation has been to show
that the origin of the Grail story must be sought elsewhere than in
ecclesiastical legend, or popular tale, I hold that the result has
equally been to demonstrate that neither of these solutions should
be ignored, but that the ultimate source must be sought for in a
direction which shall do justice to what is sound in the claims of
both.Some years ago, when fresh from the study of Sir J. G.
Frazer's epoch-making work, The Golden Bough, I was struck by the
resemblance existing between certain features of the Grail story,
and characteristic details of the Nature Cults described. The more
closely I analysed the tale, the more striking became the
resemblance, and I finally asked myself whether it were not
possible that in this mysterious legend—mysterious alike in its
character, its sudden appearance, the importance apparently
assigned to it, followed by as sudden and complete a
disappearance—we might not have the confused record of a ritual,
once popular, later surviving under conditions of strict secrecy?
This would fully account for the atmosphere of awe and reverence
which even under distinctly non-Christian conditions never fails to
surround the Grail, It may act simply as a feeding vessel, It is
none the less toute sainte cose; and also for the presence in the
tale of distinctly popular, and Folk-lore, elements. Such an
interpretation would also explain features irreconcilable with
orthodox Christianity, which had caused some scholars to postulate
a heterodox origin for the legend, and thus explain its curiously
complete disappearance as a literary theme. In the first volume of
my Perceval studies, published in 1906, I hinted at this possible
solution of the problem, a solution worked out more fully in a
paper read before the Folk-lore Society in December of the same
year, and published in Volume XVIII. of the Journal of the Society.
By the time my second volume of studies was ready for publication
in 1909, further evidence had come into my hands; I was then
certain that I was upon the right path, and I felt justified in
laying before the public the outlines of a theory of evolution,
alike of the legend, and of the literature, to the main principles
of which I adhere to-day.But certain links were missing in the chain of evidence, and
the work was not complete. No inconsiderable part of the
information at my disposal depended upon personal testimony, the
testimony of those who knew of the continued existence of such a
ritual, and had actually been initiated into its mysteries—and for
such evidence the student of the letter has little respect. He
worships the written word; for the oral, living, tradition from
which the word derives force and vitality he has little use.
Therefore the written word had to be found. It has taken me some
nine or ten years longer to complete the evidence, but the chain is
at last linked up, and we can now prove by printed texts the
parallels existing between each and every feature of the Grail
story and the recorded symbolism of the Mystery cults. Further, we
can show that between these Mystery cults and Christianity there
existed at one time a close and intimate union, such a union as of
itself involved the practical assimilation of the central rite, in
each case a 'Eucharistic' Feast, in which the worshippers partook
of the Food of Life from the sacred vessels.In face of the proofs which will be found in these pages I do
not think any fair-minded critic will be inclined to dispute any
longer the origin of the 'Holy' Grail; after all it is as august
and ancient an origin as the most tenacious upholder of Its
Christian character could desire.But I should wish it clearly to be understood that the aim of
these studies is, as indicated in the title, to determine the
origin of the Grail, not to discuss the provenance and
interrelation of the different versions. I do not believe this
latter task can be satisfactorily achieved unless and until we are
of one accord as to the character of the subject matter. When we
have made up our minds as to what the Grail really was, and what it
stood for, we shall be able to analyse the romances; to decide
which of them contains more, which less, of the original matter,
and to group them accordingly. On this point I believe that the
table of descent, printed in Volume II. of my Perceval studies is
in the main correct, but there is still much analytical work to be
done, in particular the establishment of the original form of the
Perlesvaus is highly desirable. But apart from the primary object
of these studies, and the results therein obtained, I would draw
attention to the manner in which the evidence set forth in the
chapters on the Mystery cults, and especially that on The Naassene
Document, a text of extraordinary value from more than one point of
view, supports and complements the researches of Sir J. G. Frazer.
I am, of course, familiar with the attacks directed against the
'Vegetation' theory, the sarcasms of which it has been the object,
and the criticisms of what is held in some quarters to be the
exaggerated importance attached to these Nature cults. But in view
of the use made of these cults as the medium of imparting high
spiritual teaching, a use which, in face of the document above
referred to, can no longer be ignored or evaded, are we not rather
justified in asking if the true importance of the rites has as yet
been recognized? Can we possibly exaggerate their value as a factor
in the evolution of religious consciousness?Such a development of his researches naturally lay outside
the range of Sir J. G. Frazer's work, but posterity will probably
decide that, like many another patient and honest worker, he
'builded better than he knew.'I have carefully read Sir W. Ridgeway's attack on the school
in his Dramas and Dramatic Dances, and while the above remarks
explain my position with regard to the question as a whole, I would
here take the opportunity of stating specifically my grounds for
dissenting from certain of the conclusions at which the learned
author arrives. I do not wish it to be said: "This is all very
well, but Miss Weston ignores the arguments on the other side." I
do not ignore, but I do not admit their validity. It is perfectly
obvious that Sir W. Ridgeway's theory, reduced to abstract terms,
would result in the conclusion that all religion is based upon the
cult of the Dead, and that men originally knew no gods but their
grandfathers, a theory from which as a student of religion I
absolutely and entirely dissent. I can understand that such Dead
Ancestors can be looked upon as Protectors, or as Benefactors, but
I see no ground for supposing that they have ever been regarded as
Creators, yet it is precisely as vehicle for the most lofty
teaching as to the Cosmic relations existing between God and Man,
that these Vegetation cults were employed. The more closely one
studies pre-Christian Theology, the more strongly one is impressed
with the deeply, and daringly, spiritual character of its
speculations, and the more doubtful it appears that such teaching
can depend upon the unaided processes of human thought, or can have
been evolved from such germs as we find among the supposedly
'primitive' peoples, such as e.g. the Australian tribes. Are they
really primitive? Or are we dealing, not with the primary elements
of religion, but with the disjecta membra of a vanished
civilization? Certain it is that so far as historical evidence goes
our earliest records point to the recognition of a spiritual, not
of a material, origin of the human race; the Sumerian and
Babylonian Psalms were not composed by men who believed themselves
the descendants of 'witchetty grubs.' The Folk practices and
ceremonies studied in these pages, the Dances, the rough Dramas,
the local and seasonal celebrations, do not represent the material
out of which the Attis-Adonis cult was formed, but surviving
fragments of a worship from which the higher significance has
vanished.Sir W. Ridgeway is confident that Osiris, Attis, Adonis, were
all at one time human beings, whose tragic fate gripped hold of
popular imagination, and led to their ultimate deification. The
first-named cult stands on a somewhat different basis from the
others, the beneficent activities of Osiris being more widely
diffused, more universal in their operation. I should be inclined
to regard the Egyptian deity primarily as a Culture Hero, rather
than a Vegetation God.With regard to Attis and Adonis, whatever their original
character (and it seems to me highly improbable that there should
have been two youths each beloved by a goddess, each victim of a
similar untimely fate), long before we have any trace of them both
have become so intimately identified with the processes of Nature
that they have ceased to be men and become gods, and as such alone
can we deal with them. It is also permissible to point out that in
the case of Tammuz, Esmun, and Adonis, the title is not a proper
name, but a vague appellative, denoting an abstract rather than a
concrete origin. Proof of this will be found later. Sir W. Ridgeway
overlooks the fact that it is not the tragic death of Attis-Adonis
which is of importance for these cults, but their subsequent
restoration to life, a feature which cannot be postulated of any
ordinary mortal.And how are we to regard Tammuz, the prototype of all these
deities? Is there any possible ground for maintaining that he was
ever a man? Prove it we cannot, as the records of his cult go back
thousands of years before our era. Here, again, we have the same
dominant feature; it is not merely the untimely death which is
lamented, but the restoration to life which is
celebrated.Throughout the whole study the author fails to discriminate
between the activities of the living, and the dead, king. The Dead
king may, as I have said above, be regarded as the Benefactor, as
the Protector, of his people, but it is the Living king upon whom
their actual and continued prosperity depends. The detail that the
ruling sovereign is sometimes regarded as the re-incarnation of the
original founder of the race strengthens this point—the king never
dies—Le Roi est mort, Vive le Roi is very emphatically the motto of
this Faith. It is the insistence on Life, Life continuous, and
ever-renewing, which is the abiding characteristic of these cults,
a characteristic which differentiates them utterly and entirely
from the ancestral worship with which Sir W. Ridgeway would fain
connect them.Nor are the arguments based upon the memorial rites of
definitely historical heroes, of comparatively late date, such as
Hussein and Hossein, of any value here. It is precisely the death,
and not the resurrection, of the martyr which is of the essence of
the Muharram. No one contends that Hussein rose from the dead, but
it is precisely this point which is of primary importance in the
Nature cults; and Sir W. Ridgeway must surely be aware that
Folk-lorists find in this very Muharram distinct traces of
borrowing from the earlier Vegetation rites.The author triumphantly asserts that the fact that certain
Burmese heroes and heroines are after death reverenced as tree
spirits 'sets at rest for ever' the belief in abstract deities. But
how can he be sure that the process was not the reverse of that
which he postulates, i.e., that certain natural objects, trees,
rivers, etc., were not regarded as sacred before the Nats became
connected with them? That the deified human beings were not after
death assigned to places already held in reverence? Such a
possibility is obvious to any Folk-lore student, and local
traditions should in each case be carefully examined before the
contrary is definitely asserted.So far as the origins of Drama are concerned the Ode quoted
later from the Naassene Document is absolute and definite proof of
the close connection existing between the Attis Mystery ritual, and
dramatic performances, i.e., Attis regarded in his deified,
Creative, 'Logos,' aspect, not Attis, the dead youth.Nor do I think that the idea of 'Mana' can be lightly
dismissed as 'an ordinary case of relics.' The influence may well
be something entirely apart from the continued existence of the
ancestor, an independent force, assisting him in life, and
transferring itself after death to his successor. A 'Magic' Sword
or Staff is not necessarily a relic; Medieval romance supplies
numerous instances of self-acting weapons whose virtue in no wise
depends upon their previous owner, as e.g. the Sword in Le
Chevalier ŕ l'Épée, or the Flaming Lance of the Chevalier de la
Charrette. Doubtless the cult of Ancestors plays a large rôle in
the beliefs of certain peoples, but it is not a sufficiently solid
foundation to bear the weight of the super-structure Sir W.
Ridgeway would fain rear upon it, while it differs too radically
from the cults he attacks to be used as an argument against them;
the one is based upon Death, the other on Life.Wherefore, in spite of all the learning and ingenuity brought
to bear against it, I avow myself an impenitent believer in Sir J.
G. Frazer's main theory, and as I have said above, I hold that
theory to be of greater and more far-reaching importance than has
been hitherto suspected.I would add a few words as to the form of these studies—they
may be found disconnected. They have been written at intervals of
time extending over several years, and my aim has been to prove the
essentially archaic character of all the elements composing the
Grail story rather than to analyse the story as a connected whole.
With this aim in view I have devoted chapters to features which
have now either dropped out of the existing versions, or only
survive in a subordinate form, e.g. the chapters on The Medicine
Man, and The Freeing of the Waters. The studies will, I hope, and
believe, be accepted as offering a definite contribution towards
establishing the fundamental character of our material; as stated
above, when we are all at one as to what the Holy Grail really was,
and is, we can then proceed with some hope of success to criticize
the manner in which different writers have handled the inspiring
theme, but such success seems to be hopeless so long as we all
start from different, and often utterly irreconcilable, standpoints
and proceed along widely diverging roads. One or another may,
indeed, arrive at the goal, but such unanimity of opinion as will
lend to our criticism authoritative weight is, on such lines,
impossible of achievement.
CHAPTER II
The Task of the HeroAs a first step towards the successful prosecution of an
investigation into the true nature and character of the mysterious
object we know as the Grail it will be well to ask ourselves
whether any light may be thrown upon the subject by examining more
closely the details of the Quest in its varying forms; i.e., what
was the precise character of the task undertaken by, or imposed
upon, the Grail hero, whether that hero were Gawain, Perceval, or
Galahad, and what the results to be expected from a successful
achievement of the task. We shall find at once a uniformity which
assures us of the essential identity of the tradition underlying
the varying forms, and a diversity indicating that the tradition
has undergone a gradual, but radical, modification in the process
of literary evolution. Taken in their relative order the versions
give the following result.GAWAIN (Bleheris). Here the hero sets out on his journey with
no clear idea of the task before him. He is taking the place of a
knight mysteriously slain in his company, but whither he rides, and
why, he does not know, only that the business is important and
pressing. From the records of his partial success we gather that he
ought to have enquired concerning the nature of the Grail, and that
this enquiry would have resulted in the restoration to fruitfulness
of a Waste Land, the desolation of which is, in some manner, not
clearly explained, connected with the death of a knight whose name
and identity are never disclosed. "Great is the loss that ye lie
thus, 'tis even the destruction of kingdoms, God grant that ye be
avenged, so that the folk be once more joyful and the land
repeopled which by ye and this sword are wasted and made void."[1]
The fact that Gawain does ask concerning the Lance assures the
partial restoration of the land; I would draw attention to the
special terms in which this is described: "for so soon as Sir
Gawain asked of the Lance…the waters flowed again thro' their
channel, and all the woods were turned to verdure."[2]Diű Crône. Here the question is more general in character; it
affects the marvels beheld, not the Grail alone; but now the
Quester is prepared, and knows what is expected of him. The result
is to break the spell which retains the Grail King in a semblance
of life, and we learn, by implication, that the land is restored to
fruitfulness: "yet had the land been waste, but by his coming had
folk and land alike been delivered."[3] Thus in the earliest
preserved, the GAWAIN form, the effect upon the land appears to be
the primary result of the Quest.PERCEVAL. The Perceval versions, which form the bulk of the
existing Grail texts, differ considerably the one from the other,
alike in the task to be achieved, and the effects resulting from
the hero's success, or failure. The distinctive feature of the
Perceval version is the insistence upon the sickness, and
disability of the ruler of the land, the Fisher King. Regarded
first as the direct cause of the wasting of the land, it gradually
assumes overwhelming importance, the task of the Quester becomes
that of healing the King, the restoration of the land not only
falls into the background but the operating cause of its desolation
is changed, and finally it disappears from the story altogether.
One version, alone, the source of which is, at present,
undetermined, links the PERCEVAL with the GAWAIN form; this is the
version preserved in the Gerbert continuation of the Perceval of
Chrétien de Troyes. Here the hero having, like Gawain, partially
achieved the task, but again like Gawain, having failed
satisfactorily to resolder the broken sword, wakes, like the
earlier hero, to find that the Grail Castle has disappeared, and he
is alone in a flowery meadow. He pursues his way through a land
fertile, and well-peopled and marvels much, for the day before it
had been a waste desert. Coming to a castle he is received by a
solemn procession, with great rejoicing; through him the folk have
regained the land and goods which they had lost. The mistress of
the castle is more explicit. Perceval had asked concerning the
Grail:"par coi amendéSomes, en si faite maniéreQu'en ceste regne n'avoit riviéreQui ne fust gaste, ne fontaine.E la terre gaste et soutaine."Like Gawain he has 'freed the waters' and thus restored the
land.[4]In the prose Perceval the motif of the Waste Land has
disappeared, the task of the hero consists in asking concerning the
Grail, and by so doing, to restore the Fisher King, who is
suffering from extreme old age, to health, and
youth.[5]"Se tu eusses demandé quel'en on faisoit, que li rois ton
aiol fust gariz de l'enfermetez qu'il a, et fust revenu en sa
juventé."When the question has been asked: "Le rois péschéor estoit
gariz et tot muez de sa nature." "Li rois peschiére estoit mués de
se nature et estoit garis de se maladie, et estoit sains comme
pissons."[6] Here we have the introduction of a new element, the
restoration to youth of the sick King.In the Perceval of Chrétien de Troyes we find ourselves in
presence of certain definite changes, neither slight, nor
unimportant, upon which it seems to me insufficient stress has
hitherto been laid. The question is changed; the hero no longer
asks what the Grail is, but (as in the prose Perceval) whom it
serves? a departure from an essential and primitive simplicity—the
motive for which is apparent in Chrétien, but not in the prose
form, where there is no enigmatic personality to be served apart. A
far more important change is that, while the malady of the Fisher
King is antecedent to the hero's visit, and capable of cure if the
question be asked, the failure to fulfil the prescribed conditions
of itself entails disaster upon the land. Thus the sickness of the
King, and the desolation of the land, are not necessarily connected
as cause and effect, but, a point which seems hitherto
unaccountably to have been overlooked, the latter is directly
attributable to the Quester himself.[7]"Car se tu demandé l'eussesLi rice roi qui moult s'esmaieFust or tost garis de sa plaieEt si tenist sa tičre en paisDont il n'en tenra point jamais,"but by Perceval's failure to ask the question he has entailed
dire misfortune upon the land:"Dames en perdront lor maris,Tiéres en seront essiliés,Et pucielles desconselliésOrfenes, veves, en remanrontEt maint chevalier en morront."[8]This idea, that the misfortunes of the land are not
antecedent to, but dependent upon, the hero's abortive visit to the
Grail Castle, is carried still further by the compiler of the
Perlesvaus, where the failure of the predestined hero to ask
concerning the office of the Grail is alone responsible for the
illness of the King and the misfortunes of the country. "Une grans
dolors est avenue an terre novelement par un jeune chevalier qui fu
herbergiez an l'ostel au riche roi Peschéor, si aparut ŕ lui li
saintimes Graaus, et la lance de quoi li fiers seigne par la
poignte; ne demanda de quoi ce servoit, ou dont ce venoit, et por
ce qu'il ne demanda sont toutes les terres comméues an guerre, ne
chevalier n'ancontre autre au forest qu'il ne li core sus, et ocie
s'il peut."[9]"Li Roi Pecheors de qui est grant dolors, quar il est cheüz
en une douleureuse langour—ceste langour li est venue par celui qui
se heberga an son ostel, ŕ qui li seintimes Graaus s'aparut, por ce
que cil ne vost demander de qu'il an servoit, toutes les terres an
furent comméues en gerre."[10]"Je suis cheüz an langour dčs cele oure que li chevaliers se
herberga çoianz dont vous avez oď parler; par un soule parole que
il déloia a dire me vint ceste langour."[11]From this cause the Fisher King dies before the hero has
achieved the task, and can take his place. "Li bons Rois Peschiéres
est morz."[12] There is here no cure of the King or restoration of
the land, the specific task of the Grail hero is never
accomplished, he comes into his kingdom as the result of a number
of knightly adventures, neither more nor less significant than
those found in non-Grail romances.The Perlesvaus, in its present form, appears to be a later,
and more fully developed, treatment of the motif noted in Chrétien,
i.e., that the misfortunes of King and country are directly due to
the Quester himself, and had no antecedent existence; this, I would
submit, alters the whole character of the story, and we are at a
loss to know what, had the hero put the question on the occasion of
his first visit, could possibly have been the result achieved. It
would not have been the cure of the King: he was, apparently, in
perfect health; it would not have been the restoration to verdure
of the Land: the Land was not Waste; where, as in the case of
Gawain, there is a Dead Knight, whose death is to be avenged,
something might have been achieved, in the case of the overwhelming
majority of the Perceval versions, which do not contain this
feature, the dependence of the Curse upon the Quester reduces the
story to incoherence. In one Perceval version alone do we find a
motif analogous to the earlier Gawain Bleheris form. In Manessier
the hero's task is not restricted to the simple asking of a
question, but he must also slay the enemy whose treachery has
caused the death of the Fisher King's brother; thereby healing the
wound of the King himself, and removing the woes of the land. What
these may be we are not told, but, apparently, the country is not
'Waste.'[13]In Peredur we have a version closely agreeing with that of
Chrétien; the hero fails to enquire the meaning of what he sees in
the Castle of Wonders, and is told in consequence: "Hadst thou done
so the King would have been restored to health, and his dominions
to peace, whereas from henceforth he will have to endure battles
and conflicts, and his knights will perish, and wives will be
widowed, and maidens will be left portionless, and all this because
of thee."[14] This certainly seems to imply that, while the illness
of the Fisher King may be antecedent to, and independent of, the
visit and failure of the hero, the misfortunes which fall on the
land have been directly caused thereby.The conclusion which states that the Bleeding Head seen by
the hero "was thy cousin's, and he was killed by the Sorceresses of
Gloucester, who also lamed thine uncle—and there is a prediction
that thou art to avenge these things—" would seem to indicate the
presence in the original of a 'Vengeance' theme, such as that
referred to above.[15]In Parzival the stress is laid entirely on the sufferings of
the King; the question has been modified in the interests of this
theme, and here assumes the form "What aileth thee, mine uncle?"
The blame bestowed upon the hero is solely on account of the
prolonged sorrow his silence has inflicted on King and people; of a
Land laid Waste, either through drought, or war, there is no
mention."Iuch solt' iur wirt erbarmet hân,An dem Got wunder hât getân,Und het gevrâget sîner nôt,Ir lebet, und sît an saelden tôt."[16]"Dô der trűrege vischaereSaz âne fröude und âne trôstWar umb' iren niht siufzens hât erlôst."[17]The punishment falls on the hero who has failed to put the
question, rather than on the land, which, indeed, appears to be in
no way affected, either by the wound of the King, or the silence of
the hero. The divergence from Chrétien's version is here very
marked, and, so far, seems to have been neglected by critics. The
point is also of importance in view of the curious parallels which
are otherwise to be found between this version and Perlesvaus; here
the two are in marked contradiction with one another.The question finally asked, the result is, as indicated in
the prose version, the restoration of the King not merely to
health, but also to youth—"Swaz der Frânzoys heizet flô'rî'Der glast kom sinem velle bî,Parzival's schoen' was nu ein wint;Und Absalôn Dâvîdes kint,Von Askalűn VergulahtUnd al den schoene was geslaht,Und des man Gahmurete jachDô man'n in zogen sachZe Kanvoleis sô wünneclîch,Ir dechéines schoen' was der gelîch,Die Anfortas űz siecheit truoc.Got noch künste kan genuoc."[18]GALAHAD. In the final form assumed by the story, that
preserved in the Queste, the achievement of the task is not
preceded by any failure on the part of the hero, and the advantages
derived therefrom are personal and spiritual, though we are
incidentally told that he heals the Fisher King's father, and also
the old King, Mordrains, whose life has been preternaturally
prolonged. In the case of this latter it is to be noted that the
mere fact of Galahad's being the predestined winner suffices, and
the healing takes place before the Quest is definitely
achieved.There is no Waste Land, and the wounding of the two Kings is
entirely unconnected with Galahad. We find hints, in the story of
Lambar, of a knowledge of the earlier form, but for all practical
purposes it has disappeared from the story.[19]Analysing the above statements we find that the results may
be grouped under certain definite headings:(a) There is a general consensus of evidence to the effect
that the main object of the Quest is the restoration to health and
vigour of a King suffering from infirmity caused by wounds,
sickness, or old age;