We all know about Guinevere and Lancelot bringing down a great kingdom with their betrayal of King Arthur.
Sometimes I can’t help but wonder about Arthur’s culpability. Why did the queen go astray? Did the great man do anything to deserve this betrayal? Did he somehow drive Guinevere into Lancelot’s arms? Then again, these seem like perilous questions: I can just imagine some raunchy, faux-sophisticated retelling of Camelot on HBO presenting Guinevere as a misunderstood heroine and Arthur as a quasi-villain. Rather than going down this road, it might be best to call betrayal what it is.
One problem is unavoidable, though: Arthur was warned about Guinevere. And not just by some stranger whom he might have easily ignored but by his most trusted advisor. From Book 3 of Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur:
Sir, said Merlin, as of her beauty and fairness she is one of the fairest alive, but, an ye loved her not so well as ye do, I should find you a damosel of beauty and of goodness that should like you and please you, an your heart were not set; but there as a man’s heart is set, he will be loath to return. That is truth, said King Arthur. But Merlin warned the king covertly that Guienevere was not wholesome for him to take to wife, for he warned him that Launcelot should love her, and she him again.
Merlin, in other words, is gently suggesting that Arthur look elsewhere for a bride—there are plenty of beautiful and good damosels out there. But Merlin also knows any attempt to guide Arthur on this question will be of no avail. Arthur’s heart is fixed, and a man in love is not to be reasoned with: “as a man’s heart is set,” Merlin says, “he will be loath to return.” The most chilling part is that Arthur agrees with all this. Did he even know what he was saying at that point, or was his head so filled with dreamy visions of his intended queen? Merlin then has no choice but to state frankly what will happen to Arthur if he marries that woman. And Arthur proceeds nevertheless.
In that moment of ignoring Merlin’s warning, Arthur doomed Camelot to be burned.
Implications
The bad news is that many men will follow Arthur’s example in overlooking the warnings, however obvious or subtle they might be: poor treatment of others, unhealthy relations with her family, emotional damage, mental health issues, lukewarm reciprocation, tendencies toward infidelity, fundamental disagreements about how to live, and more. Such is the nature of feminine charms and a winning figure that many a man willfully proceed full speed ahead, damn the warnings and the torpedoes!
The worse news is that even the best of us can court this disaster, as we saw with Arthur. He is not some weak, needy, or rash man, but the “mirror of chivalry” to the Knights of the Round Table and to admirers down the centuries. Similarly, a man I looked up to many years back married a woman who, just a couple years into their marriage, decided she wanted to take her vacations alone; I was crushed to hear later of their divorce. He was excellent and successful and sought-after—a hero within our community—and he too would tell you that there were warnings.
The good news is embedded in the bad news: there are warnings. And if we read King Arthur we can consider ourselves warned about the warnings. This is one of the great services that literature provides.
So how are we going to do avoid this trouble? We must start with humility. The quicker we are to assure ourselves that we would never pursue disaster, the more likely it is that we will. Self-satisfaction—that could never happen to me!—always sets us up to lose our footing on treacherous paths; pride precedeth the fall.
We must pray always for the power to discern, to see clearly. That word comes from the Latin roots dis “apart” + cernere “to separate.” In this case, we must separate the actual woman from the idealization we might be tempted to construct in our imagination, upon whom we project all our hopes and desires. It is both hazardous to us and unfair to her to not see her as she is.
We must do our best to approach all decisions from a position of strength. The needy man will talk himself into it, because he needs it; the composed man, the man with options, will be more comfortable walking away from something that isn’t quite right. As I mentioned, this guarantees nothing, but it certainly gives us better chances. Humility + discernment (guided by prayer) + strength is a winning formula—and the man who combines them is gonna make it.
Parting Thoughts
Please don’t mistake this for some adversarial redpill against the fairer sex or against romance. I want cavaliers to find fair damosels and establish noble bloodlines—the future depends on it. And as Merlin says there are good ones out there; they are not all Guineveres. Also, to be clear, I am not suggesting some nerdy facts-and-logic approach to evaluating romantic potential. A pros & cons spreadsheet probably ain’t it. I’m simply saying that a man needs to maintain his clear-headedness enough to see the obvious warnings despite the fumes of infatuations in his brain.
It is our own Camelot that’s at stake.
We may not have a Merlin, but our conscience can be supplied and strengthened through means given by the Lord. I may not receive a prophetic utterance, but I can look and see “how does this woman (or man, from her perspective) treat her occupation (if she has one)?”, “how does she speak about/to her family (esp. her father)?”, “how does she occupy her time her act when amongst friends?”, etc.
Humans (and characters) want to believe in love and in those they love, that someone will change with the love and care of another person. Sometimes there are other complicating factors, especially in the case of Arthur. It was his duty as a king,and a man, to keep his kingdom together and protect it. He believed he could overcome any adversity if he just tried. A noble goal of a good man and king.