What do you think?
Rate this book
Mabinogion Tetralogy #1-4
I Mabinogion
Amori e tradimenti, battaglie cruente e viaggi avventurosi, incantesimi e delitti. La magia delle antiche leggende celtiche rivive in una tetralogia fantasy vibrante di vita ed emozioni.
768 pages, ebook
First published January 1, 2002
391 people are currently reading
5263 people want to read
About the author
Evangeline Walton
36 books124 followersEvangeline Walton was the pen name of Evangeline Wilna Ensley, an American author of fantasy fiction. She remains popular in North America and Europe because of her “ability to humanize historical and mythological subjects with eloquence, humor and compassion”.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 116 reviews
March 22, 2023
This is another of my favorite and lesser known fantasy novels. Evangeline Walton's work had a big influence on how I approach descriptions, which you can probably see most clearly in
Inheritance
when Eragon visits Vroengard island.
The Mabinogion Tetrology is a bit of an odd thing because the story is cobbled together from Welsh myths and legends, so perhaps it’s not as cohesive story-wise as something like The Lord of the Rings is, which was created whole-cloth.
But Evangeline Walton's writing line-for-line is some of the most beautiful I’ve read. She creates wonderful moods and is very evocative describing the other world—the fairy land—that her characters are pulled into. This is especially tangible in the opening of the first book where the hero of that story encounters Death riding a gray horse in the forest, and Death asks him to switch places with him for a day.
Imagine J.R.R. Tolkien crossed with Stephen King, but without King’s profanity. Need I say more? Awesome, awesome stuff.
The Mabinogion Tetrology is a bit of an odd thing because the story is cobbled together from Welsh myths and legends, so perhaps it’s not as cohesive story-wise as something like The Lord of the Rings is, which was created whole-cloth.
But Evangeline Walton's writing line-for-line is some of the most beautiful I’ve read. She creates wonderful moods and is very evocative describing the other world—the fairy land—that her characters are pulled into. This is especially tangible in the opening of the first book where the hero of that story encounters Death riding a gray horse in the forest, and Death asks him to switch places with him for a day.
Imagine J.R.R. Tolkien crossed with Stephen King, but without King’s profanity. Need I say more? Awesome, awesome stuff.
September 28, 2023
The Four Branches of the Mabinogi collect some of the strangest, most otherworldly myths you are likely to encounter. These are tales of a land where the boundaries between worlds are thin, and where the line between heroes and gods is not easily distinguishable. Here illusion magic is strong, magic cauldrons transform dead warriors into savage, undead killers, beautiful maidens are fashioned from flowers, entire kingdoms are depopulated by fell magics, errant brothers are punished with transformation into mating beasts, and giant kings stride across the sea alongside their ships.
Evangeline Walton took these wonderful, eldritch myths and transformed them into this amazing tetralogy of novels. She wove a magical tapestry of language perfectly suited to the otherworldly feel of these myths. While remaining true to the outline of the original Mabinogi, she added material, expanding the tales and filling them out as proper, modern novels in the high fantasy tradition. She removed the Christian elements that were likely added when the myths were first recorded during the Medieval era, and restored her version of a lost, Pagan past that originally spawned these tales. While this occasionally smacks of New Age Paganism, it more often works within the context of the story, rarely seeming anachronistic or distracting.
This work is all too obscure for how brilliant it is. It deserve a place in the top ranks of fantasy writing. If you enjoy fantasy or mythology, you owe it to yourself to read this strange and wonderful work.
Evangeline Walton took these wonderful, eldritch myths and transformed them into this amazing tetralogy of novels. She wove a magical tapestry of language perfectly suited to the otherworldly feel of these myths. While remaining true to the outline of the original Mabinogi, she added material, expanding the tales and filling them out as proper, modern novels in the high fantasy tradition. She removed the Christian elements that were likely added when the myths were first recorded during the Medieval era, and restored her version of a lost, Pagan past that originally spawned these tales. While this occasionally smacks of New Age Paganism, it more often works within the context of the story, rarely seeming anachronistic or distracting.
This work is all too obscure for how brilliant it is. It deserve a place in the top ranks of fantasy writing. If you enjoy fantasy or mythology, you owe it to yourself to read this strange and wonderful work.
February 26, 2015
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 9, 2015
Whoooooooaaaaaaa I wasn't ready for how good this was. I was expecting something more mediocre but I'm happy I took a chance with it. Walton is indescribably beautiful with words. Her Mythic Wales is true in every way to the misty legends that have been passed down. Instead of misty though, Walton takes those ancient stories and clears the mist, humanizing and modernizing the legends.
This contemporary novelization of the Mabinogion is a metaphoric dusting and dragging forth of the gods, heroes and monsters that took their rest under the barrows of old Wales long ago. Never has a legend been so masterfully revamped bar The Once & Future King. Even then I'm tempted to say it's just as good.
This contemporary novelization of the Mabinogion is a metaphoric dusting and dragging forth of the gods, heroes and monsters that took their rest under the barrows of old Wales long ago. Never has a legend been so masterfully revamped bar The Once & Future King. Even then I'm tempted to say it's just as good.
May 14, 2017
Review also available on my blog The Shameful Narcissist Speaks.
******Warning: Some mentions of rape as it pertains to the narrative.******
I first cut my teeth on Welsh Mythology with The First Chronicles Of Prydain of Lloyd Alexander, books written for children, and rife with the myths of that land. It was where I first saw the name "Gwydion" and heard the term "Son of Don" and "Math Son of Mathonwy." At the time I though Don and Mathonwy were the names of their fathers since lineage now and still flows through the father, but at that point in the history of Wales, the name of the mother was the line of kings.
Prydain did an excellent job of introducing the rich mythological history of Wales, and Mr. Alexander (who is actually from around my area) cited the Mabinogion as one of his sources, but as it was a children's book, The Chronicles barely scratched the surface of the myths' depths. Though I read the series years ago (and haven't had a chance to reread it again), I remembered the name of the source, and when the opportunity presented, obtained a copy of the volume in question.
The Mabinogion Tetralogy is so named for the four sections or "branches: that make up the compendium. Unlike most mythology collections, it doesn't consist of numerous short stories of similar theme, but rather of longer tales broken up into chapters. Each branch is further delineated into books, and while each book has a slightly different plot, each branch deals with the same characters, and some of them step between the tines and into other sections.
The first branch Prince of Annwn deals with the titular Pwyll's descent into the underworld due to his bargain with Arawn, the Grey Man and keeper of the dead during the aptly named Descent into the Abyss. While the second book, Rhiannon of the Birds recounts how Pwyll managed to marry a woman from another (faery) realm. The Abyss played host to some startling horror elements, darker than normally seen in mythological text, but apt for where the prince of Dyved found himself.
The second branch is called The Children of Llyr, and it has no subsections (to go back to Mr. Alexander's work, the third book in his Prydain Chronicles was titled The Castle of Llyr). Concerning Bran, king over the Island of the Mighty, and his siblings full and half, we're also introduced to the matrilineal customs of the Old Tribes (as opposed to the patriarchy of the New, which the first branch focuses on).
Branwen, Bran's sister, marries an Irish lord and goes with him back to his island to bear the son that will eventually rule in Bran's place (like Math is the Son of Mathonwy and Gwydion is the Son of Don, the heir to the king is his eldest sister's son), but he abuses her at the encouragement of his advisors, forcing her to be a scullery maid, and this eventually leads to war with Wales. By the time this branch comes to an end, only one of the siblings is left. Many die from war and treachery and one dies of grief.
Despite this woe (or perhaps because of it) The Children of Llyr was the best part of the compendium closely seconded by the next, The Song of Rhiannon, which follows directly from with the remains of that family: Rhiannon (the lady out of faery), and her son Pryderi by Pwyll (from the first branch).
Even though the branches might appear disparate, they are all connected with each bleeding into the other like the future from the past even the fourth The Island of the Mighty, which concerns completely different characters entirely at least upon first glance. Pryderi makes an appearance in this final section, but as an antagonist to the people initially introduced. This was my least favorite section as the very first plot concerns Gwydion's younger brother Gilvaethwy and how seemingly lovelorn he is for Goewyn, his uncle the king's royal footholder, but it's not "love" he's looking for.
Though I was familiar with Gwydion from the Prydain Chronicles, he was not the character here that he was there (though still a powerful druid), and the fore mentioned catalyst for the narrative left a bitter taste in my mouth and rage in my heart as the heir to Math helps his brother rape the king's virgin foot holder. While Goewyn becomes queen due to that act, so married to Math by his behest, and both brothers are punished by being changed into beasts (due to their bestial behavior), there's still a lot of problematic language around. Arianrhod, Gwidion's sister, even victim blames the poor girl, though she, the Lady of the Silver Wheel, is essentially the villain of this branch. She attempts to stymie Gwydion's efforts at every turn, though some of her reasoning makes perfect sense to me.
Gwydion's heir would have to be a child of one of his sisters, and I'm assuming that it would be the oldest child of the eldest, but if she had no male issue, it would go down from there. He has other sisters, but for some reason he and Math feel the need to push Arianrhod who falsely claims to be a virgin. After Goewyn becomes queen, Math needs a new foot holder, and Arianrhod desires the position, but her uncle sets her a test, which she fails by instantly giving birth to a son, Dylan, who disappears into the sea. Then later, Gwydion has this chest which contains another child of Arianrhod. I'm not sure if it's supposed to imply she gave birth prematurely (and unknowingly), but she not only wants nothing to do with him, she also lays three curses upon him, one after another as Gwydion figures out how to get around them. There's also some weird, icky, potential incest between her and Gwydion, and I'm still not entirely unconvinced that the boy, who came to be named Llew, wasn't his actual son.
The second and third branches were my favorite. The tales of Bran and his brethren were beautiful and heartbreaking all in one. The language so moved me that in some of the parts I read aloud just to hear the sorrow resonate and taste bittersweet on my tongue. If I were to reread any part of this compendium, it would be the tales of Bran, Branwen, and their brothers. There is a good chance George R. R. Martin borrowed from the mythology of the Welsh in order to craft his Bran(don) Stark of Winterfell in A Song of Ice and Fire, though whether he's referring to the boy Bran of the current time or Brandons from the past remains to be seen, though it is also entirely possible that all Brans are the same. His name means "crow" or "raven."
There has never been a mythology compendium like this, at least none I've ever read. Most of them consist of short stories not full narratives. This read more like a novel in three of four parts, though each part led from the one before. It would be possible to just read the first branch, the second and third branch, and the fourth branch separately (in fact, I think before the full Tetralogy was put together, they were sold separately), but you would miss out on the connections in between, similar to playing any Legend of Zelda or Final Fantasy game. The individual story will make sense, but understanding the connections between will enrich it.
The language is poetic and flowing, though there were some points where it felt even too heavy and pedantic for me. There were a few chapters in the fourth branch that I skimmed, because they didn't really move the story forward, but for the most part The Mabinogion Tetralogy is an excellent resource for anyone interested in Welsh mythology, which seems to far less known than Classical, Egyptian, or even Norse. I would even more highly recommend it for anyone who read and enjoyed Lloyd Alexander's The Prydain Chronicles as this was the source and inspiration of that award winning tale, and if you haven't read Mr. Alexander's work, well I highly recommend that as well.
4.5 stars.
******Warning: Some mentions of rape as it pertains to the narrative.******
I first cut my teeth on Welsh Mythology with The First Chronicles Of Prydain of Lloyd Alexander, books written for children, and rife with the myths of that land. It was where I first saw the name "Gwydion" and heard the term "Son of Don" and "Math Son of Mathonwy." At the time I though Don and Mathonwy were the names of their fathers since lineage now and still flows through the father, but at that point in the history of Wales, the name of the mother was the line of kings.
Prydain did an excellent job of introducing the rich mythological history of Wales, and Mr. Alexander (who is actually from around my area) cited the Mabinogion as one of his sources, but as it was a children's book, The Chronicles barely scratched the surface of the myths' depths. Though I read the series years ago (and haven't had a chance to reread it again), I remembered the name of the source, and when the opportunity presented, obtained a copy of the volume in question.
The Mabinogion Tetralogy is so named for the four sections or "branches: that make up the compendium. Unlike most mythology collections, it doesn't consist of numerous short stories of similar theme, but rather of longer tales broken up into chapters. Each branch is further delineated into books, and while each book has a slightly different plot, each branch deals with the same characters, and some of them step between the tines and into other sections.
The first branch Prince of Annwn deals with the titular Pwyll's descent into the underworld due to his bargain with Arawn, the Grey Man and keeper of the dead during the aptly named Descent into the Abyss. While the second book, Rhiannon of the Birds recounts how Pwyll managed to marry a woman from another (faery) realm. The Abyss played host to some startling horror elements, darker than normally seen in mythological text, but apt for where the prince of Dyved found himself.
The second branch is called The Children of Llyr, and it has no subsections (to go back to Mr. Alexander's work, the third book in his Prydain Chronicles was titled The Castle of Llyr). Concerning Bran, king over the Island of the Mighty, and his siblings full and half, we're also introduced to the matrilineal customs of the Old Tribes (as opposed to the patriarchy of the New, which the first branch focuses on).
Branwen, Bran's sister, marries an Irish lord and goes with him back to his island to bear the son that will eventually rule in Bran's place (like Math is the Son of Mathonwy and Gwydion is the Son of Don, the heir to the king is his eldest sister's son), but he abuses her at the encouragement of his advisors, forcing her to be a scullery maid, and this eventually leads to war with Wales. By the time this branch comes to an end, only one of the siblings is left. Many die from war and treachery and one dies of grief.
Despite this woe (or perhaps because of it) The Children of Llyr was the best part of the compendium closely seconded by the next, The Song of Rhiannon, which follows directly from with the remains of that family: Rhiannon (the lady out of faery), and her son Pryderi by Pwyll (from the first branch).
Even though the branches might appear disparate, they are all connected with each bleeding into the other like the future from the past even the fourth The Island of the Mighty, which concerns completely different characters entirely at least upon first glance. Pryderi makes an appearance in this final section, but as an antagonist to the people initially introduced. This was my least favorite section as the very first plot concerns Gwydion's younger brother Gilvaethwy and how seemingly lovelorn he is for Goewyn, his uncle the king's royal footholder, but it's not "love" he's looking for.
Though I was familiar with Gwydion from the Prydain Chronicles, he was not the character here that he was there (though still a powerful druid), and the fore mentioned catalyst for the narrative left a bitter taste in my mouth and rage in my heart as the heir to Math helps his brother rape the king's virgin foot holder. While Goewyn becomes queen due to that act, so married to Math by his behest, and both brothers are punished by being changed into beasts (due to their bestial behavior), there's still a lot of problematic language around. Arianrhod, Gwidion's sister, even victim blames the poor girl, though she, the Lady of the Silver Wheel, is essentially the villain of this branch. She attempts to stymie Gwydion's efforts at every turn, though some of her reasoning makes perfect sense to me.
Gwydion's heir would have to be a child of one of his sisters, and I'm assuming that it would be the oldest child of the eldest, but if she had no male issue, it would go down from there. He has other sisters, but for some reason he and Math feel the need to push Arianrhod who falsely claims to be a virgin. After Goewyn becomes queen, Math needs a new foot holder, and Arianrhod desires the position, but her uncle sets her a test, which she fails by instantly giving birth to a son, Dylan, who disappears into the sea. Then later, Gwydion has this chest which contains another child of Arianrhod. I'm not sure if it's supposed to imply she gave birth prematurely (and unknowingly), but she not only wants nothing to do with him, she also lays three curses upon him, one after another as Gwydion figures out how to get around them. There's also some weird, icky, potential incest between her and Gwydion, and I'm still not entirely unconvinced that the boy, who came to be named Llew, wasn't his actual son.
The second and third branches were my favorite. The tales of Bran and his brethren were beautiful and heartbreaking all in one. The language so moved me that in some of the parts I read aloud just to hear the sorrow resonate and taste bittersweet on my tongue. If I were to reread any part of this compendium, it would be the tales of Bran, Branwen, and their brothers. There is a good chance George R. R. Martin borrowed from the mythology of the Welsh in order to craft his Bran(don) Stark of Winterfell in A Song of Ice and Fire, though whether he's referring to the boy Bran of the current time or Brandons from the past remains to be seen, though it is also entirely possible that all Brans are the same. His name means "crow" or "raven."
There has never been a mythology compendium like this, at least none I've ever read. Most of them consist of short stories not full narratives. This read more like a novel in three of four parts, though each part led from the one before. It would be possible to just read the first branch, the second and third branch, and the fourth branch separately (in fact, I think before the full Tetralogy was put together, they were sold separately), but you would miss out on the connections in between, similar to playing any Legend of Zelda or Final Fantasy game. The individual story will make sense, but understanding the connections between will enrich it.
The language is poetic and flowing, though there were some points where it felt even too heavy and pedantic for me. There were a few chapters in the fourth branch that I skimmed, because they didn't really move the story forward, but for the most part The Mabinogion Tetralogy is an excellent resource for anyone interested in Welsh mythology, which seems to far less known than Classical, Egyptian, or even Norse. I would even more highly recommend it for anyone who read and enjoyed Lloyd Alexander's The Prydain Chronicles as this was the source and inspiration of that award winning tale, and if you haven't read Mr. Alexander's work, well I highly recommend that as well.
4.5 stars.
April 18, 2008
This series is a truly beautiful and tragic retelling of a part of the Welsh epic, The Mabinogian. The best of the four, in my opinion is The Children of Llyr (book II, which deserves 5 stars. The language is lyrical and the tale touching, disturbing and even heart-rending. Walton is able to capture the epic mood and the spirit of the orginal in a compelling narrative style. Any changes or additions read as if they have always been a part of the tale. One of the only instances of which I can think where an author manages to improve on the original mythological material.
The rest of this series is impessive as well. I highly recommend reading the entire series.
The rest of this series is impessive as well. I highly recommend reading the entire series.
May 30, 2014
Since I plan to break up my reading of each branch of this set, I will post my thoughts about each as I finish, adding a overall conclusion at the end.
First Branch - Prince of Annwn
I had no idea what to expect before reading this other than a vague notion that it was a re-telling of a medieval Welsh/Celtic prose stories. I was completely unfamiliar with the original stories so I can't comment on how well it has been interpreted but judging this in its own right I have to say that I am well impressed.
Beautifully written with breezy, pleasing prose that tells of Pwyll's early years of kingship and his troubles with love, gods and druids. It feels to me that Dunsany (such as "King of Elfland's Daughter" although less florid) was a clear influence on her writing and that Vance in turn was influenced by it (such as "Lyonesse").
Second Branch - Children of Llyr
Wow, this one was quite different. A tragic tale in which the ancient British and Irish peoples nearly annihilate each other in a senseless war. Right from the outset, the prologue sets the tone that carries on throughout the book. The children of Llyr try to do what they think is right but each seems to inadvertently bring about disastrous consequences despite their best intentions. Although not as much can be said for their bastard half brother Evnissten who tries his best to disturb the peace as much as possible; why their brothers put up with him is something I was unable to fathom.
This part was far bleaker than that which preceded it, underling the sense of eventual doom that must befall the Celtic peoples. But the prose was still exquisite and beautifully written. This is still high fantasy at its best.
Third Branch - The Song of Rhiannon
A somewhat more meandering piece than the previous two parts, somewhat lacking in direction for most of the story. The ramifications of the events in the first two books are now felt by the surviving characters as a series of tragic events unfold. The cause and antagonist remains shrouded in mystery until the end and the final confrontation at which time it all becomes clear. Can the protagonists overcome their grief, sorrow and despair to prevent their eventual doom?
Fourth Branch - Island of the Mighty
The longest part by far and split into three parts. It focuses on a different set of characters in a different part of ancient Britain (Gwynedd). This story concerns the royal line and successors to Math as they come of age and struggle both with their own ambitions and the changes coming to their society. The new and strange concept of "paternity" is emerging in a previously strictly matriarchal society and the impact this has on men and women and their attitudes towards each other. An enjoyable and fascinating story throughout.
Conclusion
A near perfect work of epic fantasy that is marred only by an occasional tendency to meander and ramble a bit. I would recommend this to any fan of classic fantasy and Celtic mythology.
First Branch - Prince of Annwn
I had no idea what to expect before reading this other than a vague notion that it was a re-telling of a medieval Welsh/Celtic prose stories. I was completely unfamiliar with the original stories so I can't comment on how well it has been interpreted but judging this in its own right I have to say that I am well impressed.
Beautifully written with breezy, pleasing prose that tells of Pwyll's early years of kingship and his troubles with love, gods and druids. It feels to me that Dunsany (such as "King of Elfland's Daughter" although less florid) was a clear influence on her writing and that Vance in turn was influenced by it (such as "Lyonesse").
Second Branch - Children of Llyr
Wow, this one was quite different. A tragic tale in which the ancient British and Irish peoples nearly annihilate each other in a senseless war. Right from the outset, the prologue sets the tone that carries on throughout the book. The children of Llyr try to do what they think is right but each seems to inadvertently bring about disastrous consequences despite their best intentions. Although not as much can be said for their bastard half brother Evnissten who tries his best to disturb the peace as much as possible; why their brothers put up with him is something I was unable to fathom.
This part was far bleaker than that which preceded it, underling the sense of eventual doom that must befall the Celtic peoples. But the prose was still exquisite and beautifully written. This is still high fantasy at its best.
Third Branch - The Song of Rhiannon
A somewhat more meandering piece than the previous two parts, somewhat lacking in direction for most of the story. The ramifications of the events in the first two books are now felt by the surviving characters as a series of tragic events unfold. The cause and antagonist remains shrouded in mystery until the end and the final confrontation at which time it all becomes clear. Can the protagonists overcome their grief, sorrow and despair to prevent their eventual doom?
Fourth Branch - Island of the Mighty
The longest part by far and split into three parts. It focuses on a different set of characters in a different part of ancient Britain (Gwynedd). This story concerns the royal line and successors to Math as they come of age and struggle both with their own ambitions and the changes coming to their society. The new and strange concept of "paternity" is emerging in a previously strictly matriarchal society and the impact this has on men and women and their attitudes towards each other. An enjoyable and fascinating story throughout.
Conclusion
A near perfect work of epic fantasy that is marred only by an occasional tendency to meander and ramble a bit. I would recommend this to any fan of classic fantasy and Celtic mythology.
July 20, 2011
As the odd bird in the room who is frustrated often with books that are less than 400 pages, I was thrilled when I saw the size of The Madinogion Tetralogy by Evangeline Walton. I was not necessarily familiar with Welsh folklore as I began to read this, so it was an interesting foray on multiple levels.
I found the stories charmingly simple, and fairly predictable, although I was surprised by how much of the four novels was really more fantasy than myth. There is very little discussion of how certain natural phenomenon (constellations, tides, etc.) evolved and instead a focus on the lands believed to be beyond this one. The interplay between gods and humans made for an interesting twist in the first few selections, but Ms. Walton truly hit her stride in the Fourth Branch, titled “The Island of the Mighty.”
“The Island of the Mighty” was originally published as a stand-alone novel, and the effort put into crafting it clearly shows. There is an intricacy that is absent from the others, as well as moral implications deftly avoided in the others. There is a strong conflict between the “Old Tribes,” generally thought to be the Picts, and the “New Tribes,” influenced strongly by the new concept of marriage. There is a discussion of the role of women in the Welsh society and it strongly expresses the issues that arise when values of a people shift. Some people happily shift with it, and some are dragged along kicking and screaming. The not-so gentle cultural shift to marriage causes a considerable amount of trouble to the characters, as does the inevitable reaction leading from female worship to female degradation and devaluing.
As I read this novel, the thought struck me that perhaps we are swinging back the other way in our society today. While the ancient Welsh culture was based in female honor and worship, as well as free sexuality, they flowed into what we knew during the last 300 or so. Just as that settled into our lands, we as women decided that we needed rights (to vote, to control our bodies via birth control, to have sexual relations outside of wedlock, etc.) that caused no end of social upheaval. This strikes me as a cyclical process, and studying the last shift chronicled with such elegance may educate us greatly about the world around us.
So, ready for the summary? If you HATE very large novels, read only the Fourth Branch. If myth is not your thing, but fantasy is, you still will enjoy this immensely. There are some glaring typos, as mentioned by other reviewers, but you know about them going in, it’s really not that distressing. In fact, some people might enjoy attempting to catch them. I would highly recommend this as a challenge both morally and intellectually for all interested.
-CD 7/20/2011
I found the stories charmingly simple, and fairly predictable, although I was surprised by how much of the four novels was really more fantasy than myth. There is very little discussion of how certain natural phenomenon (constellations, tides, etc.) evolved and instead a focus on the lands believed to be beyond this one. The interplay between gods and humans made for an interesting twist in the first few selections, but Ms. Walton truly hit her stride in the Fourth Branch, titled “The Island of the Mighty.”
“The Island of the Mighty” was originally published as a stand-alone novel, and the effort put into crafting it clearly shows. There is an intricacy that is absent from the others, as well as moral implications deftly avoided in the others. There is a strong conflict between the “Old Tribes,” generally thought to be the Picts, and the “New Tribes,” influenced strongly by the new concept of marriage. There is a discussion of the role of women in the Welsh society and it strongly expresses the issues that arise when values of a people shift. Some people happily shift with it, and some are dragged along kicking and screaming. The not-so gentle cultural shift to marriage causes a considerable amount of trouble to the characters, as does the inevitable reaction leading from female worship to female degradation and devaluing.
As I read this novel, the thought struck me that perhaps we are swinging back the other way in our society today. While the ancient Welsh culture was based in female honor and worship, as well as free sexuality, they flowed into what we knew during the last 300 or so. Just as that settled into our lands, we as women decided that we needed rights (to vote, to control our bodies via birth control, to have sexual relations outside of wedlock, etc.) that caused no end of social upheaval. This strikes me as a cyclical process, and studying the last shift chronicled with such elegance may educate us greatly about the world around us.
So, ready for the summary? If you HATE very large novels, read only the Fourth Branch. If myth is not your thing, but fantasy is, you still will enjoy this immensely. There are some glaring typos, as mentioned by other reviewers, but you know about them going in, it’s really not that distressing. In fact, some people might enjoy attempting to catch them. I would highly recommend this as a challenge both morally and intellectually for all interested.
-CD 7/20/2011
April 5, 2007
The story behind these books is as intersting as the stories themselves - one of the longest fantasy epics of the 20th century was written before Tolkien by a young woman in the twenties and thirties. The books were before their time; as there was no fantasy market, no one would publish them, and they languished for fourty years until a relative found the manuscripts and encouraged Walton, now in her late 60s, to publish them. The Mabinogion is an epic retelling of Welsh mythology, and at times is quite fantastic. Eventually, however, the slowness and strangeness of the source material gets a bit burdomesom, as it reads like a 1,200 page Silmirillion.
January 17, 2022
I had this book on and then off of my Want-To-Read shelf for a few years until I finally decided it was time to read it, or at least start it and see whether or not I wanted to finish. I had not even finished the Introduction before I had 4 or 5 more books that I now needed to read to augment this one. Suffice it to say I was interested, quite a lot, and I had not even begun Walton’s text. Once I began I will say it was hard to stop, the telling is that amazing. I will say that while reading I would do some researching and paging around on the interweb to familiarize myself with as many of the details in Walton’s tale as I could to make better sense of where the myths and legends of the Welsh “beg, borrow, and steal” so to speak from other mythologies, legends, fables, and literature. By the time I finished Book I there were so many references I was cross-checking my head was spinning. But I was loving every minute of it, truly. Walton admits to subtle changes, adds, and speculations in her narratives, which was interesting, as she feels she must explain/justify even though some of what is known through old manuscripts is not entirely taken as fact. Ah, interpretation and imagination! There is entirely too much in this lengthy book to think I could cover it all in a review that wouldn’t run to hundreds of pages, probably, so I will not even try. What I can say is Walton was a brilliant writer and does her subject proud. And that is surely a massive understatement. Before reading this book I had little knowledge of Welsh mythology - though I did learn I knew some things rather obliquely through my readings about the myths and legends of other countries and cultures - and upon finishing this I knew I would be spending a lot of time searching for more books and looking up people and places, and comparing notes and writings from a variety of soon-to-be-found sources. I love it when a book pushes me to learn new things. I would recommend this book to anyone who loves the old myths and legends and also to anyone who loves expertly crafted fantasy writing. This book was a joy and a wonder to read.
March 7, 2008
I first read these when they were originally published in the 1970s. Re-reading them today, I find them still to be a powerful re-telling of ancient myth. They are set in a time when the ancient matriarchal tribes of the British Isles were first meeting and integrating the ideas of patriarchal invaders. Walton does a marvelous job of casting these in modern form. This is a large book that was originally published in 4 volumes. One minor drawback is that it appears the original books were processed with OCR and poor proofreading introduced some obvious typos into the works.
July 25, 2007
A fantasy re-telling of the Mabiogion, a set of Welsh myths. The author wrote many of these in the 1930's, I believe. The characters are complelling, as is the pre-Arthurian, pre-Roman (?) wild Britain they inhabit.
February 9, 2012
I've read it once, I'm reading it twice, and it's still charming *-*
I think that my favourite part is book #4... Gwydion!
I can't really find a reason why this book and this writer are just so...unknown to most people (and actually I'm doing my best to persuade all my friends to buy&read it!). It's a damn GOOD book, better than many others that are more famous (even better, and it's saad saad to admit because I'm a huge fan of both, than The Mists of Avalon according to me)... it should deserve better!
I really think that you need to be a good writer to write a really good re-telling.
Yes, retellings can be pretty tricky: you don't need to make a whole plot up (even if I could question it...re-telling doesn't mean copying and pasting!) you need to make your work special: the fact that you are re-telling something people already know means that you need it to be so special in order for people to appreciate it and then remembering it.
A plain re-telling is something you easily forget about, according to me, and a pretty boring thing too... why should I read something I already read? But if it's GREAT, if it's fresh, well written and if it adds something... then OF COURSE I'm going to read it, like it , and remember it.
Ms Walton doesn't add anything to the original plot as far as i know (I'm not sure about a couple points like who fathered Pryderi -I haven't found anything like that in the original text, but I didn't look for it with so much intent I have to say-... but she's really really true to the original, even sometimes in dialogues which i found similar in some points), but what she writes is pure magic. She has such a wonderful and poetic style! She's able to create a dreamy athmospere with her words, and that's something I really appreciate. She can make you feel the tragedy, the happiness, the love...great.
Characters are very deep too. I'm just in love with Gwydion -as I previously said-... but Manawyddan ap Llyr makes a great character too, and Arianrhod is fantastic in her wickedness.
I think that my favourite part is book #4... Gwydion!
I can't really find a reason why this book and this writer are just so...unknown to most people (and actually I'm doing my best to persuade all my friends to buy&read it!). It's a damn GOOD book, better than many others that are more famous (even better, and it's saad saad to admit because I'm a huge fan of both, than The Mists of Avalon according to me)... it should deserve better!
I really think that you need to be a good writer to write a really good re-telling.
Yes, retellings can be pretty tricky: you don't need to make a whole plot up (even if I could question it...re-telling doesn't mean copying and pasting!) you need to make your work special: the fact that you are re-telling something people already know means that you need it to be so special in order for people to appreciate it and then remembering it.
A plain re-telling is something you easily forget about, according to me, and a pretty boring thing too... why should I read something I already read? But if it's GREAT, if it's fresh, well written and if it adds something... then OF COURSE I'm going to read it, like it , and remember it.
Ms Walton doesn't add anything to the original plot as far as i know (I'm not sure about a couple points like who fathered Pryderi -I haven't found anything like that in the original text, but I didn't look for it with so much intent I have to say-... but she's really really true to the original, even sometimes in dialogues which i found similar in some points), but what she writes is pure magic. She has such a wonderful and poetic style! She's able to create a dreamy athmospere with her words, and that's something I really appreciate. She can make you feel the tragedy, the happiness, the love...great.
Characters are very deep too. I'm just in love with Gwydion -as I previously said-... but Manawyddan ap Llyr makes a great character too, and Arianrhod is fantastic in her wickedness.
January 16, 2021
Actually the second time I've read this but I can't recall specifically what year/date the first read was. Somewhere in the mid-aughties.
This read-through was part of a Mabinogion study group I participated in by chance. (2020, year of the Zoom.) It was a treat to have a dedicated meeting for several weeks talking about the Mabinogion with other interested folks.
Walton is definitely not the preferable critical volume of the Mabinogion -- for me that goes to Sioned Davies' translation -- but it was the first I had read, and Walton does a beautiful job of creating the mythopoetic Welsh world. She gives flesh and feeling to the characters, considers and interprets their motives and reactions, and ultimately tells these myths/legends/stories in a way that draws in the new or casual reader to the Mabinogion.
That said, Walton is using a great deal of artistic license in her interpretive storytelling. And it is very much of the time in which it was written, early 20th century. I will say Walton did a much-needed effort to develop the female deities/figures of the Mabinogion into fully-realized people.
This volume is always within reach for me, to refresh my memory, touch base with as a resource, and enjoy as a comforting re-read.
This read-through was part of a Mabinogion study group I participated in by chance. (2020, year of the Zoom.) It was a treat to have a dedicated meeting for several weeks talking about the Mabinogion with other interested folks.
Walton is definitely not the preferable critical volume of the Mabinogion -- for me that goes to Sioned Davies' translation -- but it was the first I had read, and Walton does a beautiful job of creating the mythopoetic Welsh world. She gives flesh and feeling to the characters, considers and interprets their motives and reactions, and ultimately tells these myths/legends/stories in a way that draws in the new or casual reader to the Mabinogion.
That said, Walton is using a great deal of artistic license in her interpretive storytelling. And it is very much of the time in which it was written, early 20th century. I will say Walton did a much-needed effort to develop the female deities/figures of the Mabinogion into fully-realized people.
This volume is always within reach for me, to refresh my memory, touch base with as a resource, and enjoy as a comforting re-read.
December 18, 2013
Accessible, subtly moves the reader from one world to the other. Gods and heroes are not made human, but humans can learn how to deal with them and sometimes overcome. Imperceptible shifts between worlds aren't modernized, traditions are honored. I've read sections of the Mabinogi over the years, but she makes the entirety into something for readers, not just scholars struggling to analyze segments.
February 18, 2021
Premessa doverosa: dovrei classificarlo come libro abbandonato, ma si tratta di una raccolta di quattro romanzi e io ho completato i primi tre e la prima delle tre parti in cui è diviso il quarto, ergo mi sento in diritto di considerarlo praticamente finito.
Venendo al sodo, faccio presente a chiunque mi legga che La Tetralogia dei Mabinogion di Evangeline Walton non è un fantasy in senso proprio e non andrebbe letta come tale: è la riscrittura di una saga mitologica gallese (i Mabinogi o Mabinogion, appunto), riscrittura che resta fedele all'intreccio originale ma lo rielabora quel tanto che serve a farlo funzionare in forma di romanzo, così da renderlo accessibile a un pubblico moderno; se dovessi trovare un corrispettivo italiano, proporrei a naso Il mio nome è Nessuno: La trilogia di Manfredi. Questo detto, ciascuno dei quattro romanzi adatta una porzione autoconclusiva della saga originale e ha dunque una fisionomia propria, ergo li commento uno per uno:
1. Il principe dell'Annwn è il testo probabilmente più vicino a un fantasy convenzionale post-Tolkien: il dio dell'Oltretomba Arawn incarica re Pwyll del Dyved di combattere per lui un mostro che minaccia l'Aldilà, e il nostro Pwyll esplora il paese dei morti, affronta una prova iniziatica dopo l'altra... e già che c'è si mette in cerca di una moglie semidea, secondo uno schema non tanto diverso dalla saga greca di Teseo o da quella di Perseo. Per chi adora le avventure a cerca sarà una goduria, per chi come me le apprezza e basta ci sono comunque delle belle scene oniriche. Un degno 3/5.
2. I figli di Llyr è sicuramente il mio preferito dei quattro romanzi: ci racconta una guerra epocale fra Britanni e Irlandesi al cui centro sta la sanguinosa tragedia delle rispettive famiglie reali – in pratica la controparte celtica della Guerra di Troia e della Faida degli Atridi. E inserito nel tutto c'è pure il famoso mito del calderone magico capace di rianiamare i cadaveri, di cui finalmente ho scoperto la vera fonte. Fra personaggi che escono dalla pagina, situazioni fantasmagoriche, prosa evocativa e ritmo eccellente, un 5/5 con lode.
3. La canzone di Rhiannon è sostanzialmente l'Odissea rispetto all'Iliade narrata nel secondo romanzo: ci narra il ritorno a casa dalla grande guerra di re Pryderi figlio di Pwyll (quello del primo libro) e i suoi sforzi per tutelare il Dyved dal malocchio di potenze ultraterrene. Rispetto ai precedenti romanzi ha un ritmo più lento e una struttura narrativa da fiaba (in particolare ci sono eventi cruciali che si ripetono per tre volte) e piacerà tanto a chi ama vedere la vita quotidiana di personaggi eroici. Anche qui, un 3/5.
4. L'isola dei potenti è nettamente più lungo degli altri romanzi e, secondo me, nettamente inferiore, visto che il ritmo degli eventi è continuamente annacquato da considerazioni della voce narrante e da monologhi interiori inconcludenti dei singoli personaggi – si sente tantissimo che l'autrice l'ha scritto per primo e non l'ha mai revisionato per uniformarlo agli altri. A questo giro la narrazione si sposta dalla famiglia reale del Dyved ai signori del Gwynedd, loro rivali, e intreccia conflitti generazionali, guerre e guerriciole, incesti e una tale quantità di pinzillacchere che a circa il 33% del libro non avevo ancora capito dove si volesse andare a parare. Voto 1/5, e anche a stringere i denti e andare avanti per completezza temo che sarebbe solo 2/5.
In conclusione e tirando le somme, sono lieto di aver letto i primi tre volumi della Tetralogia, visto che mi hanno aperto una porta su un patrimonio culturale che mi era completamente sconosciuto: nel prossimo futuro potrei addirittura procurarmi una copia dei Mabinogi originali per leggermi lì la quarta parte e le sette leggende ancillari a quella principale. Credo che la signora Walton possa ritenersi soddisfatta.
Venendo al sodo, faccio presente a chiunque mi legga che La Tetralogia dei Mabinogion di Evangeline Walton non è un fantasy in senso proprio e non andrebbe letta come tale: è la riscrittura di una saga mitologica gallese (i Mabinogi o Mabinogion, appunto), riscrittura che resta fedele all'intreccio originale ma lo rielabora quel tanto che serve a farlo funzionare in forma di romanzo, così da renderlo accessibile a un pubblico moderno; se dovessi trovare un corrispettivo italiano, proporrei a naso Il mio nome è Nessuno: La trilogia di Manfredi. Questo detto, ciascuno dei quattro romanzi adatta una porzione autoconclusiva della saga originale e ha dunque una fisionomia propria, ergo li commento uno per uno:
1. Il principe dell'Annwn è il testo probabilmente più vicino a un fantasy convenzionale post-Tolkien: il dio dell'Oltretomba Arawn incarica re Pwyll del Dyved di combattere per lui un mostro che minaccia l'Aldilà, e il nostro Pwyll esplora il paese dei morti, affronta una prova iniziatica dopo l'altra... e già che c'è si mette in cerca di una moglie semidea, secondo uno schema non tanto diverso dalla saga greca di Teseo o da quella di Perseo. Per chi adora le avventure a cerca sarà una goduria, per chi come me le apprezza e basta ci sono comunque delle belle scene oniriche. Un degno 3/5.
2. I figli di Llyr è sicuramente il mio preferito dei quattro romanzi: ci racconta una guerra epocale fra Britanni e Irlandesi al cui centro sta la sanguinosa tragedia delle rispettive famiglie reali – in pratica la controparte celtica della Guerra di Troia e della Faida degli Atridi. E inserito nel tutto c'è pure il famoso mito del calderone magico capace di rianiamare i cadaveri, di cui finalmente ho scoperto la vera fonte. Fra personaggi che escono dalla pagina, situazioni fantasmagoriche, prosa evocativa e ritmo eccellente, un 5/5 con lode.
3. La canzone di Rhiannon è sostanzialmente l'Odissea rispetto all'Iliade narrata nel secondo romanzo: ci narra il ritorno a casa dalla grande guerra di re Pryderi figlio di Pwyll (quello del primo libro) e i suoi sforzi per tutelare il Dyved dal malocchio di potenze ultraterrene. Rispetto ai precedenti romanzi ha un ritmo più lento e una struttura narrativa da fiaba (in particolare ci sono eventi cruciali che si ripetono per tre volte) e piacerà tanto a chi ama vedere la vita quotidiana di personaggi eroici. Anche qui, un 3/5.
4. L'isola dei potenti è nettamente più lungo degli altri romanzi e, secondo me, nettamente inferiore, visto che il ritmo degli eventi è continuamente annacquato da considerazioni della voce narrante e da monologhi interiori inconcludenti dei singoli personaggi – si sente tantissimo che l'autrice l'ha scritto per primo e non l'ha mai revisionato per uniformarlo agli altri. A questo giro la narrazione si sposta dalla famiglia reale del Dyved ai signori del Gwynedd, loro rivali, e intreccia conflitti generazionali, guerre e guerriciole, incesti e una tale quantità di pinzillacchere che a circa il 33% del libro non avevo ancora capito dove si volesse andare a parare. Voto 1/5, e anche a stringere i denti e andare avanti per completezza temo che sarebbe solo 2/5.
In conclusione e tirando le somme, sono lieto di aver letto i primi tre volumi della Tetralogia, visto che mi hanno aperto una porta su un patrimonio culturale che mi era completamente sconosciuto: nel prossimo futuro potrei addirittura procurarmi una copia dei Mabinogi originali per leggermi lì la quarta parte e le sette leggende ancillari a quella principale. Credo che la signora Walton possa ritenersi soddisfatta.
July 6, 2017
As far as the stories go, I was totally on board for the first three books of the tetralogy. They were engaging and descriptive, with clear character motivations and (despite the formal language) decent pacing.
Then I got to the fourth book and the wheels fell off the wagon. It's the longest of the four by far, weighed down with lengthy philosophical reveries about the nature of marriage, free will, fatherhood, and family. I get that a major theme of all the stories is change: old vs. new, matrilineal descent vs. patrilineal descent as in the Old and New Tribes. But the tone of the final book shifted greatly towards the cerebral, and it also shifted anti-women in a big way. Women were glorified in the first three books, but in the final story they were unabashedly the villians. Arianrhod was a deceitful, cunning woman so in love with her self-image she would do anything to keep it, even denying her own children; and Blodeuwedd was a cheating wife who betrayed her husband to his death.
Okay, fine, women can be villains--but in both cases, it was the male main characters who were the root of their actions. Arianrhod never wanted to be a mother, but her brother Gwydion needed her to bear his heir, so he caused her to give birth via magic (though he points out repeatedly there would have been no children in her body to have if she had been virgin as she claimed) and keeps one of the children to raise himself. Blodeuwedd was actually created via Mâth's and Gwydion's magic to be a wife to that child, Llew, in his manhood--and when she fell in love with another man, she who was created solely as a companion to Llew, she fell into scheming to solve her difficulties.
Now, I'm not trying to absolve these two "villians" of all of their culpability, but Gwydion is the main character of the book, his need for an heir and the obtaining and raising of such being the main storyline--and the book constantly excuses his actions. If this were a moral tale and he suffered some sort of downfall in the end, that would be one thing--but the ending is unsatisfactory in that regard, and in others, because the book just kind of... stops. Llew is reborn from his eagle form (which was his "death") and then... nothing happens. So clearly, I'm missing something, or the book is.
And speaking of the physical book itself, I'm disappointed in its quality as well. For something that cost me $35, I expect it not to be riddled with typos and inconsistencies. There were punctuation and capitalization mistakes once every fifteen to twenty pages, or so, and the spelling errors seemed to be centered on the names. Welsh is difficult to spell for the uninitiated--but it was as if the entire book had been typeset by scanning then left unproofed, because the errors were almost always shape-based. Pryderi became Prydern, mashing the R and I together. Geyr became Gew, combining the Y and R. And on top of that, some of the names in the fourth book were spelled differently from in the first three, even when they were clearly referring to the same characters. I would expect that if I were reading different sources telling the same tales (Gawaine vs. Gawain in Arthurian mythos, etc.) but not in a single compilation volume from the same author.
I'm glad I finally read it after it sat on my shelf so long, but I can't help but be disappointed.
Then I got to the fourth book and the wheels fell off the wagon. It's the longest of the four by far, weighed down with lengthy philosophical reveries about the nature of marriage, free will, fatherhood, and family. I get that a major theme of all the stories is change: old vs. new, matrilineal descent vs. patrilineal descent as in the Old and New Tribes. But the tone of the final book shifted greatly towards the cerebral, and it also shifted anti-women in a big way. Women were glorified in the first three books, but in the final story they were unabashedly the villians. Arianrhod was a deceitful, cunning woman so in love with her self-image she would do anything to keep it, even denying her own children; and Blodeuwedd was a cheating wife who betrayed her husband to his death.
Okay, fine, women can be villains--but in both cases, it was the male main characters who were the root of their actions. Arianrhod never wanted to be a mother, but her brother Gwydion needed her to bear his heir, so he caused her to give birth via magic (though he points out repeatedly there would have been no children in her body to have if she had been virgin as she claimed) and keeps one of the children to raise himself. Blodeuwedd was actually created via Mâth's and Gwydion's magic to be a wife to that child, Llew, in his manhood--and when she fell in love with another man, she who was created solely as a companion to Llew, she fell into scheming to solve her difficulties.
Now, I'm not trying to absolve these two "villians" of all of their culpability, but Gwydion is the main character of the book, his need for an heir and the obtaining and raising of such being the main storyline--and the book constantly excuses his actions. If this were a moral tale and he suffered some sort of downfall in the end, that would be one thing--but the ending is unsatisfactory in that regard, and in others, because the book just kind of... stops. Llew is reborn from his eagle form (which was his "death") and then... nothing happens. So clearly, I'm missing something, or the book is.
And speaking of the physical book itself, I'm disappointed in its quality as well. For something that cost me $35, I expect it not to be riddled with typos and inconsistencies. There were punctuation and capitalization mistakes once every fifteen to twenty pages, or so, and the spelling errors seemed to be centered on the names. Welsh is difficult to spell for the uninitiated--but it was as if the entire book had been typeset by scanning then left unproofed, because the errors were almost always shape-based. Pryderi became Prydern, mashing the R and I together. Geyr became Gew, combining the Y and R. And on top of that, some of the names in the fourth book were spelled differently from in the first three, even when they were clearly referring to the same characters. I would expect that if I were reading different sources telling the same tales (Gawaine vs. Gawain in Arthurian mythos, etc.) but not in a single compilation volume from the same author.
I'm glad I finally read it after it sat on my shelf so long, but I can't help but be disappointed.
Read
March 28, 2021Wow. Medieval Wales was the "Brooklyn" of the British Isles
September 23, 2018
This epic fantasy series is based on the four branches of the Mabinogion which are legends from Welsh Mythology. The introduction explains that after Evangeline Walton published the fourth “The Virgin and the Swine” in the 1930s, her publisher didn’t express any interest to see more stories of this type from her and so Walton assumed that there wasn’t interest for fantasy in the publishing market and after writing the rest of the Mabinogion, she stuck it a desk door and the rest of the series didn’t see the light of day until Ballantine books discovered “The Virgin and the Swine,” and decided to republish it under the much more suitable title, “The Island of the Mighty.” It took awhile to find Walton as they had trouble locating her address but once they did they made a deal with her to publish the rest of the series. If it weren’t for that chance discovery and the devotion that these people showed to the fantasy genre then modern readers, myself included wouldn’t have the opportunity to read this lost treasure of a fantasy epic.
I have not read the original tales on which this series is based so I can’t say for sure how truthful the author was to the original, although I have seen summarizations of the four branches of the Mabinogion and from what I’ve read, it doesn’t sound like she changed much. In notes at the end of each book Walton discusses liberties she’s taken with the original material and the reasons for her decisions, much of which has to do with pleasing her audience. Obviously, the expectation that modern audiences have for their literature is vastly different than the expectations that medieval audiences had. Walton used modern telling techniques to bring the characters in these stories to life for the modern reader. She says that she herself as an interpreter of the original Mabinogion and her interpretation is feminist. Many of the themes within the series have to do with womanhood, marriage, childbirth, the patriarchy and things that will naturally concern a feminist. A work based on Celtic Mythology suits feminist themes, as the ancient Celts were worshipers of the Mother Goddess and women in Celtic culture were not viewed as the property of men but were free and independent. However, the Mabinogion harbors a strong Christian influence because Christian Monk’s transcribed these ancient, Celtic stories and imposed a Christian agenda on them. Walton made it her duty to try to purge the Christian influence from her series and to retain its purely Celtic nature. Throughout the series there is a strong resistance against the coming of the new ways and religion that many of the characters have; they fear that the new ways will replace their old, ancient customs. The resistance to the influence of the new ways reaches a climax in the, “The Island of the Mighty,” where we can see the influence of the ways of the new tribe firmly take hold, with some women in the book priding themselves on their virginity, which is something that had been alien to the ways of the Celts because to the Celts motherhood and giving birth is a sacred motif. One of the characters who is a prophet speaks of despair about the future when women’s body will be owned by men and she will not have the absolute freedom of her body and her own individual self as she did in the days of the ancient harmonies when men and women worked and lived as equals in body and soul. The Ancient harmonies is a pagan concept that has to do with maintaining balance in life, between humanity and nature and between the masculine and the feminine. There are many interesting philosophical reflections in these stories about maintaining this balance. It is clear from her writing that Walton mourns the loss of Celtic pagan culture and harbors some resentment against Christianity for the destruction of these cultures. The characters in her books have many different views so the result of her exploring these themes is a dialogue in which the reader gets to hear many different perspectives on the subject. So while there is an agenda, it is at least multifaceted and illuminating. However, by the Island of the Mighty Walton’s feminism got annoying preachy. She would insert her own views in the text at random times which took me right out of the story, such as one point when she unequivocally states that before women were forced to marry and stay faithful to their husbands, the women of ancient Celtic cultures were never raped. To me these kinds of statements look like propaganda because we don’t know enough about ancient Celtic culture to say for sure whether or not that was true. It too often felt like the author was trying to hammer home her feminist message.
As these books are based on tales that are so ancient, it comes as no surprise that there are some things that annoy me about the plot. For example, the third branch “The Song of the Rhiannon” got annoyingly repetitive towards the end when the characters did the same repetitious activities with the same results for at least a couple of chapters. The protagonists were starting their own businesses in various trades, and in a formulaic, rinse and repeat fashion, the protagonists excelled at their business far better than their competitors, taking away their customers which these other businesses didn’t appreciate, and so in response they would try to kill these upstarts. The protagonists would then have to leave town and start at a new trade in a different town and the pattern was repeated several time. The story may have had some flaws but as far as the quality of the writing is concerned it was excellent. Walton is a great writer of descriptions as her prose is lyrical and a pleasure to read. It rolls off the tongue and I imagine it would sound good read aloud.
My clear favorite of this series was the first book “The Prince of Annwan,” which is the most adventurous and action oriented of the books. In this book the characters of Pywell and Death literally exchange places for a year, and Pywell’s mission is to fight and defeat a character that even Death himself could not defeat. This book fits well under the tradition of the hero’s journey. I didn’t really have a least favorite in this series because the other three books all had their moments of excitement and their rough patches, none of them really standing out. But if I had to choose then the “Island of the Mighty” wins by a slim margin. The ending of the “Island of the Mighty” was too anti-climactic and unrewarding for how many pages the reader has to get through. It ends rather abruptly, not on an epic note at all but with the protagonists far too easily defeating the antagonists. There isn’t much of a struggle and the result is that the ending felt flat. Of the two villains one of them acts like a complete coward and for this reason is detestable and then the other one just gives himself up to be killed, rather than fight back because he didn’t want his people to be killed for his sake and he knew there was no way that he could stand up against the magic of the protagonists. This was a lazy way to end the book. Of course, it is important to realize that Walton was limited by her source material, but I still think that she could have ended the book in a more satisfying manner. A point in favor of the “Island of the Mighty” is that it has one of the most villainous female characters that I’ve seen in a book. She is a sorceress named Arianhod who so happens to be the sister of our dear protagonist Gwydion but she doesn’t start off evil. Arianhod is a woman who has made a difficult life decision and there are consequences for this decision that cause her to grow more and more evil as the book progresses, until at the end of the book she becomes as evil as a woman could become, even going so far as to do things that women are forbidden to do by the Ancient Harmonies such as causing the death of her own child. As a feminist Walton is sympathetic to this character. The reason she becomes so evil is because the patriarchy is slowly taking over Celtic culture and she is a character who has been manipulated and betrayed by the powerful men in her life and she is getting her revenge through trickery and subterfuge. While it is evident that Walton disapproves of her actions, it is clear from the text that Walton pins the blame on the patriarchy for driving her to commit such evil deeds.
Overall, the Mabinogion Tetralogy is a disappointment. Walton is an excellent writer but limitations imposed on the author because of source material and unnecessary feminist lectures sometimes get in the way of good storytelling. I disagree with the quote on the front cover saying that this is one of the greatest fantasy epics of all time. There are many epic fantasies that I think are quite a bit better than this. This is a series where the parts are greater than the whole. It is filled with passages that are brilliantly written and plot points that are exciting and philosophical reflections on the nature of masculinity versus femininity, but the issue is that it ultimately doesn’t amount to anything spectacular.
I have not read the original tales on which this series is based so I can’t say for sure how truthful the author was to the original, although I have seen summarizations of the four branches of the Mabinogion and from what I’ve read, it doesn’t sound like she changed much. In notes at the end of each book Walton discusses liberties she’s taken with the original material and the reasons for her decisions, much of which has to do with pleasing her audience. Obviously, the expectation that modern audiences have for their literature is vastly different than the expectations that medieval audiences had. Walton used modern telling techniques to bring the characters in these stories to life for the modern reader. She says that she herself as an interpreter of the original Mabinogion and her interpretation is feminist. Many of the themes within the series have to do with womanhood, marriage, childbirth, the patriarchy and things that will naturally concern a feminist. A work based on Celtic Mythology suits feminist themes, as the ancient Celts were worshipers of the Mother Goddess and women in Celtic culture were not viewed as the property of men but were free and independent. However, the Mabinogion harbors a strong Christian influence because Christian Monk’s transcribed these ancient, Celtic stories and imposed a Christian agenda on them. Walton made it her duty to try to purge the Christian influence from her series and to retain its purely Celtic nature. Throughout the series there is a strong resistance against the coming of the new ways and religion that many of the characters have; they fear that the new ways will replace their old, ancient customs. The resistance to the influence of the new ways reaches a climax in the, “The Island of the Mighty,” where we can see the influence of the ways of the new tribe firmly take hold, with some women in the book priding themselves on their virginity, which is something that had been alien to the ways of the Celts because to the Celts motherhood and giving birth is a sacred motif. One of the characters who is a prophet speaks of despair about the future when women’s body will be owned by men and she will not have the absolute freedom of her body and her own individual self as she did in the days of the ancient harmonies when men and women worked and lived as equals in body and soul. The Ancient harmonies is a pagan concept that has to do with maintaining balance in life, between humanity and nature and between the masculine and the feminine. There are many interesting philosophical reflections in these stories about maintaining this balance. It is clear from her writing that Walton mourns the loss of Celtic pagan culture and harbors some resentment against Christianity for the destruction of these cultures. The characters in her books have many different views so the result of her exploring these themes is a dialogue in which the reader gets to hear many different perspectives on the subject. So while there is an agenda, it is at least multifaceted and illuminating. However, by the Island of the Mighty Walton’s feminism got annoying preachy. She would insert her own views in the text at random times which took me right out of the story, such as one point when she unequivocally states that before women were forced to marry and stay faithful to their husbands, the women of ancient Celtic cultures were never raped. To me these kinds of statements look like propaganda because we don’t know enough about ancient Celtic culture to say for sure whether or not that was true. It too often felt like the author was trying to hammer home her feminist message.
As these books are based on tales that are so ancient, it comes as no surprise that there are some things that annoy me about the plot. For example, the third branch “The Song of the Rhiannon” got annoyingly repetitive towards the end when the characters did the same repetitious activities with the same results for at least a couple of chapters. The protagonists were starting their own businesses in various trades, and in a formulaic, rinse and repeat fashion, the protagonists excelled at their business far better than their competitors, taking away their customers which these other businesses didn’t appreciate, and so in response they would try to kill these upstarts. The protagonists would then have to leave town and start at a new trade in a different town and the pattern was repeated several time. The story may have had some flaws but as far as the quality of the writing is concerned it was excellent. Walton is a great writer of descriptions as her prose is lyrical and a pleasure to read. It rolls off the tongue and I imagine it would sound good read aloud.
My clear favorite of this series was the first book “The Prince of Annwan,” which is the most adventurous and action oriented of the books. In this book the characters of Pywell and Death literally exchange places for a year, and Pywell’s mission is to fight and defeat a character that even Death himself could not defeat. This book fits well under the tradition of the hero’s journey. I didn’t really have a least favorite in this series because the other three books all had their moments of excitement and their rough patches, none of them really standing out. But if I had to choose then the “Island of the Mighty” wins by a slim margin. The ending of the “Island of the Mighty” was too anti-climactic and unrewarding for how many pages the reader has to get through. It ends rather abruptly, not on an epic note at all but with the protagonists far too easily defeating the antagonists. There isn’t much of a struggle and the result is that the ending felt flat. Of the two villains one of them acts like a complete coward and for this reason is detestable and then the other one just gives himself up to be killed, rather than fight back because he didn’t want his people to be killed for his sake and he knew there was no way that he could stand up against the magic of the protagonists. This was a lazy way to end the book. Of course, it is important to realize that Walton was limited by her source material, but I still think that she could have ended the book in a more satisfying manner. A point in favor of the “Island of the Mighty” is that it has one of the most villainous female characters that I’ve seen in a book. She is a sorceress named Arianhod who so happens to be the sister of our dear protagonist Gwydion but she doesn’t start off evil. Arianhod is a woman who has made a difficult life decision and there are consequences for this decision that cause her to grow more and more evil as the book progresses, until at the end of the book she becomes as evil as a woman could become, even going so far as to do things that women are forbidden to do by the Ancient Harmonies such as causing the death of her own child. As a feminist Walton is sympathetic to this character. The reason she becomes so evil is because the patriarchy is slowly taking over Celtic culture and she is a character who has been manipulated and betrayed by the powerful men in her life and she is getting her revenge through trickery and subterfuge. While it is evident that Walton disapproves of her actions, it is clear from the text that Walton pins the blame on the patriarchy for driving her to commit such evil deeds.
Overall, the Mabinogion Tetralogy is a disappointment. Walton is an excellent writer but limitations imposed on the author because of source material and unnecessary feminist lectures sometimes get in the way of good storytelling. I disagree with the quote on the front cover saying that this is one of the greatest fantasy epics of all time. There are many epic fantasies that I think are quite a bit better than this. This is a series where the parts are greater than the whole. It is filled with passages that are brilliantly written and plot points that are exciting and philosophical reflections on the nature of masculinity versus femininity, but the issue is that it ultimately doesn’t amount to anything spectacular.
September 15, 2015
I thoroughly enjoyed this, though I started out a little worried. I'm familiar with The Mabinogion, so the plot wasn't exactly going to surprise me. Walton's language also appears stilted to my inner ear, as writers in previous eras always do. Thankfully, that goes away pretty quickly, leaving you with Walton's interpretation of the Welsh text - and her wit, which is unarguably the greater gift.
Weaved throughout the tales of Pwyll, Pryderi, Bran, and Gwydion are pearls of wisdom regarding gods, religion, women, and men. Walton was either amazingly precognitive or a good illustration that some struggles are universal.
The only problem I had with this book is the same problem I discovered while reading Celtic Myths And Legends - the ancient Celts are so far removed from my current lived reality that their moral compass seems helplessly skewed. But then, these stories were not written to evoke empathy, they were written as larger-than-life depictions of heroes and virtues the listeners (then readers) should aspire to.
It's interesting the difference in what we prefer in our fiction these days.
Weaved throughout the tales of Pwyll, Pryderi, Bran, and Gwydion are pearls of wisdom regarding gods, religion, women, and men. Walton was either amazingly precognitive or a good illustration that some struggles are universal.
The only problem I had with this book is the same problem I discovered while reading Celtic Myths And Legends - the ancient Celts are so far removed from my current lived reality that their moral compass seems helplessly skewed. But then, these stories were not written to evoke empathy, they were written as larger-than-life depictions of heroes and virtues the listeners (then readers) should aspire to.
It's interesting the difference in what we prefer in our fiction these days.
September 26, 2017
The Book of Three series whet my appetite for learning more about Welsh culture, and at a friend's recommendation (thanks, Mitchell!) I read this series in order to get a better sense of Welsh mythology. It's written in a somewhat stylized manner like many other myths I've read (), but it's also told as more of a story so it's a bit easier to read.
The four books that compose the Mabinogion Tetralogy are loosely connected; the next one usually picks up about the time the previous one ended and either uses or refers to some of the characters in the previous entry, but each one basically stands alone. The stories are very different, both in plot and tone. And it's kind of interesting that they ended up being published in almost the opposite order in which they occur chronologically (the ordering in this tetralogy).
One extremely interesting aspect of Welsh culture as Walton portrays it is the tension between their traditional ideas of sexuality and procreation (where men and women have partners at will and inheritance is through the mother because it isn't known who the father is, and they apparently haven't figured out the role of men in reproduction) and the newfangled ideas being brought from the east and south about fatherhood and permanent pairings between men and women -- marriage.
The four books that compose the Mabinogion Tetralogy are loosely connected; the next one usually picks up about the time the previous one ended and either uses or refers to some of the characters in the previous entry, but each one basically stands alone. The stories are very different, both in plot and tone. And it's kind of interesting that they ended up being published in almost the opposite order in which they occur chronologically (the ordering in this tetralogy).
One extremely interesting aspect of Welsh culture as Walton portrays it is the tension between their traditional ideas of sexuality and procreation (where men and women have partners at will and inheritance is through the mother because it isn't known who the father is, and they apparently haven't figured out the role of men in reproduction) and the newfangled ideas being brought from the east and south about fatherhood and permanent pairings between men and women -- marriage.
May 31, 2009
I enjoyed this retelling of the Mabinogion tales - which I knew from having read Lady Guest's translation previously. I liked the way Walton managed to keep an archaic turn of phrase without making the book too much hard work to read. It flowed well and I liked her expansions and reimaginings of certain aspects of the stories. I did feel, however, that she was telling them with a very modern, knowing, perspective and certainly with an agenda of her own (whether this was deliberate or not).
March 19, 2011
Omnibus edition of the series: The Prince of Annwn, The Children of Llyr, The Song of Rhiannon, The Island of the Mighty. Expansion and retelling of the Welsh Mabinogion, and cracking good storytelling. While the first two books are somewhat weak, it's the fourth that packs the real punch. Very much recommended.
March 29, 2012
I read these in the seventies, after which the books went out of print for a long time? Are they in print again? I sure hope so. Because this is some of the finest fantasy writing you will ever hope to read, a worthy retelling of the Welsh mythology by an expert craftsperson. Moody and romantic and historically intriguing to boot. Some of the stories have stayed with me my whole life.
January 18, 2015
Truly the most under appreciated book I have ever read. This tale of the clash of matriarchal cultures meeting and being overturned by patriarchal cultures in early Wales is a masterpiece of mythopoetic work. While it's a fictionalized take on the 6th century Mabinogion text I can truly envision history happening just like Evangeline Walton writes it here.
August 14, 2022
"Change births not single children, but mostly twins: good and evil."
April 25, 2015
Absolute favorite book ever ♡
December 5, 2018
I never grow tired of reading diverse editions of this work. Evangeline Walton’s version was by far my favorite due to her uncomplicated easy flowing style.
December 20, 2025
More accurate rating: 7/10.
Video review: https://youtu.be/BGUYtI8XDes.
An interesting and, for the most part, enjoyable retelling of the Welsh Mabinogion, as a mythological fantasy quartet. It had good, evocative and at times fairly poetic prose, though I also found it a tad overwrought in places. It had interesting theming – especially given the time this was published in – on the origins of patriarchy and sex-based oppression, or subjugation (more or less), and the (hypothesised) fundamental natures of different societal structures, as it pertains to men and women's traits and expected roles, as human beings, but more crucially as partners in procreation, the perpetuation of humanity, and the progressive elevation of the human soul (this ties into the book's portrayal of Celtic religion, or rather what it believes Celtic religion was probably like).
It is very obvious to me this book must have been a source of inspration for the later (and for me, greater) Mists of Avalon, and other related works of feminist and neo-pagan fantasy rooted (in part at least) in the Goddess Spirituality Movement, and the early research, and theories, of the feminist anthropologists, ethnologists, and folklorists of the Second Wave (so late 1960s, 70s, and early 80s). But yes, The Mists of Avalon undoubtedly remains superior, for me, in terms of theming: its exploration of feminist ideas and issues is much more refined and better articulated.
The Mabinogion Tetralogy also goes for a very specific premise that I just couldn't buy into (because it doesn't make sense time period-wise, and because I don't agree with the idea that this is what defines the transition from matrifocality/'primitive' egalitarianism to patriarchy, anyhoo). Said premise being that the pagan peoples of Bronze, then Early Iron Age Britain (and Ireland) could be divided into the matrifocal 'Old Tribes', who didn't know about paternity at all, and the more patriarchal 'New Tribes', who understood that men contribute to the making of bebehs, and thus cared about paternity and, ya know, putting a clamp on women's libidos, through marriage and monogamy. And it just... didn't really work. Now yes, I actually agree there's an argument to be made for an early ignorance of the role of men in procreation, but by early... I mean early . Think early hunter gatherers, paleolithic folks, not freaking Bronze Age people! I mean, very direct involvement in animal husbandry, alone, would connect the dots... and then I just don't agree that knowing sperm + egg = bebeh, on its own, is a sufficient condition for triggering sex-based oppression, full stop (I won't elaborate further here). I get that the 'Old v. New' tribe motif was probably meant to play with, then emerging (I guess?) theories about the successive waves of peoples and cultures that came into Old Europe (to over-simplify: native proto-Indo-Europeans v. Indo-Europeans coming from the eastern steppes), but it doesn't change the fact this was a weird thing to hinge the story's proto-feminist and anthropological theming on.
The last book in the series soured me a little on it, and I do think it dragged a bit in places (I had to skim/speed read through a few chapters towards the end there). Still, overall, I'm happy it was recommended to me, and that I took the time to read it. 🙂
Video review: https://youtu.be/BGUYtI8XDes.
An interesting and, for the most part, enjoyable retelling of the Welsh Mabinogion, as a mythological fantasy quartet. It had good, evocative and at times fairly poetic prose, though I also found it a tad overwrought in places. It had interesting theming – especially given the time this was published in – on the origins of patriarchy and sex-based oppression, or subjugation (more or less), and the (hypothesised) fundamental natures of different societal structures, as it pertains to men and women's traits and expected roles, as human beings, but more crucially as partners in procreation, the perpetuation of humanity, and the progressive elevation of the human soul (this ties into the book's portrayal of Celtic religion, or rather what it believes Celtic religion was probably like).
It is very obvious to me this book must have been a source of inspration for the later (and for me, greater) Mists of Avalon, and other related works of feminist and neo-pagan fantasy rooted (in part at least) in the Goddess Spirituality Movement, and the early research, and theories, of the feminist anthropologists, ethnologists, and folklorists of the Second Wave (so late 1960s, 70s, and early 80s). But yes, The Mists of Avalon undoubtedly remains superior, for me, in terms of theming: its exploration of feminist ideas and issues is much more refined and better articulated.
The Mabinogion Tetralogy also goes for a very specific premise that I just couldn't buy into (because it doesn't make sense time period-wise, and because I don't agree with the idea that this is what defines the transition from matrifocality/'primitive' egalitarianism to patriarchy, anyhoo). Said premise being that the pagan peoples of Bronze, then Early Iron Age Britain (and Ireland) could be divided into the matrifocal 'Old Tribes', who didn't know about paternity at all, and the more patriarchal 'New Tribes', who understood that men contribute to the making of bebehs, and thus cared about paternity and, ya know, putting a clamp on women's libidos, through marriage and monogamy. And it just... didn't really work. Now yes, I actually agree there's an argument to be made for an early ignorance of the role of men in procreation, but by early... I mean early . Think early hunter gatherers, paleolithic folks, not freaking Bronze Age people! I mean, very direct involvement in animal husbandry, alone, would connect the dots... and then I just don't agree that knowing sperm + egg = bebeh, on its own, is a sufficient condition for triggering sex-based oppression, full stop (I won't elaborate further here). I get that the 'Old v. New' tribe motif was probably meant to play with, then emerging (I guess?) theories about the successive waves of peoples and cultures that came into Old Europe (to over-simplify: native proto-Indo-Europeans v. Indo-Europeans coming from the eastern steppes), but it doesn't change the fact this was a weird thing to hinge the story's proto-feminist and anthropological theming on.
The last book in the series soured me a little on it, and I do think it dragged a bit in places (I had to skim/speed read through a few chapters towards the end there). Still, overall, I'm happy it was recommended to me, and that I took the time to read it. 🙂
June 6, 2025
First of all, I would like it to be noted that technically this was FOUR different books and Goodreads will only count it as one but I’m counting it as four since technically this is an anthology. And I finished this in four days which means I read almost 200 pages every single day and I’m not really sure how.
This version of the Mabinogi was much better than the original translation, much more palatable and entertaining without compromising any of the story. Evangeline Walton does an excellent job of exploring the gendered nuances and this is a book that I wish I had studied during my masters because every branch of the Mabinogi feels very female centered despite being male dominated. I love all of the intricacies of sex that it explores.
I read this mostly as research for my book (btw pretty sure Sarah J Maas at least read the first branch and based her universe on a lot of its aspects) and I’m glad I managed to get through this especially since it’s technically my second time reading the Mabinogi. With that being said, this book was still ultra dense at times and I did skim most of the fourth branch. Anyways I need Stevie Nicks to make her TV show from this book
This version of the Mabinogi was much better than the original translation, much more palatable and entertaining without compromising any of the story. Evangeline Walton does an excellent job of exploring the gendered nuances and this is a book that I wish I had studied during my masters because every branch of the Mabinogi feels very female centered despite being male dominated. I love all of the intricacies of sex that it explores.
I read this mostly as research for my book (btw pretty sure Sarah J Maas at least read the first branch and based her universe on a lot of its aspects) and I’m glad I managed to get through this especially since it’s technically my second time reading the Mabinogi. With that being said, this book was still ultra dense at times and I did skim most of the fourth branch. Anyways I need Stevie Nicks to make her TV show from this book
Displaying 1 - 30 of 116 reviews