What do you think?
Rate this book
The Squire's Tales #5
The Ballad of Sir Dinadan: A Middle Ages Fantasy Adventure with Arthurian Knights and Heroic Quests for Children (Ages 10-12)
Young Dinadan has no wish to joust or quest or save damsels in distress or do any of the knightly things expected of him. He’d rather be a minstrel, playing his rebec and writing ballads. But he was born to be a knight, and knights, of course, have adventures. So after his father forces his knighthood upon him, he wanders toward King Arthur’s court, in the company of a misguided young Welsh lad named Culloch. There Dinadan meets Sir Kai and Sir Bedivere, and the three find themselves accompanying Culloch on the worst sort of quest. Along the way, Dinadan writes his own ballads, singing of honor, bravery, loyalty, and courtly love—and becomes a player in the pathetic love story of Tristram and Iseult. He meets the Moorish knight Palomides, the clever but often exasperating Lady Brangienne, and an elvin musician named Sylvanus, along with an unusual collection of recreant knights and dimwitted defenders of chivalry. He learns that while minstrels sing of spectacular heroic deeds, honor is often found in simpler, quieter ways.
256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2003
31 people are currently reading
957 people want to read
About the author
Gerald Morris
25 books495 followersGerald Morris is an award-winning author, best known for his retellings of Arthurian legends for preteen and teen readers.
His first series, The Squire's Tales, focuses primarily on a squire named Terence, alongside his knight, Sir Gawain. The ten-book series began with The Squire's Tale, first published in 1998.
His second series, The Knights' Tales, is for younger readers and began with The Adventures of Sir Lancelot the Great, published in 2008, followed by The Adventures of Sir Givret the Short in the same year.
Morris was born in Riverside, California in 1963, the son of Russell A. Morris. He was educated at the Oklahoma Baptist University and the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He married Rebecca Hughes, has 3 children, and now lives in Wausau, Wisconsin. He also lived for a short time in Oklahoma. Apart from writing, Morris teaches theology and serves as a pastor for church.
His first series, The Squire's Tales, focuses primarily on a squire named Terence, alongside his knight, Sir Gawain. The ten-book series began with The Squire's Tale, first published in 1998.
His second series, The Knights' Tales, is for younger readers and began with The Adventures of Sir Lancelot the Great, published in 2008, followed by The Adventures of Sir Givret the Short in the same year.
Morris was born in Riverside, California in 1963, the son of Russell A. Morris. He was educated at the Oklahoma Baptist University and the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He married Rebecca Hughes, has 3 children, and now lives in Wausau, Wisconsin. He also lived for a short time in Oklahoma. Apart from writing, Morris teaches theology and serves as a pastor for church.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 133 reviews
Read
February 25, 2024By now, five books into the Squire's Tales series, I've figured out that Morris is at his best when he's tempering his relentless and often well-deserved skewering of medieval romance tropes with something genuine, heartfelt, and numinous. While the first three books retained enough sense of the numinous and heartfelt love of the source material to make the critique feel earned, by THE BALLAD OF SIR DINADAN the mockery is outweighing the love, and that makes the story less engaging.
Which is not to say that there isn't still wonderful stuff in the story. I was SO pleased with the skewering of Tristram and Iseult, the two Arthurian characters who need it the most. It was lots of fun to have a knightly protagonist who is just a happy-go-lucky minstrel. Sir Palomides got to be way more awesome than he ever was in Malory, and I loved Morris' version of him (and finally!!! a 21st century Arthurian retelling that foregrounds the single most prominent POC in the Arthurian canon!) I've always needed to read a version of Brangwaine, Iseult's longsuffering lady-in-waiting, who gets to roll her eyes over her queen's ridiculousness. And the romantic climax...if it can be called that...had me hooting with delight.
On the other hand, I don't always care for the way Morris writes women, and I'm not sure that Iseult needed to be turned into a conniving would-be murderer in order to make her unsympathetic. Her motivation for this is simply proclaimed (by male characters) as being feminine jealousy, which made me roll my eyes pretty hard. Then, as always, Morris' lampooning of medieval romance tropes like courtly love didn't always feel on target: at times the message sometimes felt like it was telling us that Real Men Don't Make Poetry About Love, which, like the Real Men Don't Wear Fancy Hats message of the previous book, strikes me as an attitude with more than a hint of toxic masculinity about it. And, finally, I found Morris' take on the tale of Culhwch and Olwen to be a source of incredible discomfort. This is a very, VERY old Welsh story from the Mabinogion, a body of work with deep links to Welsh language and national identity, yet Morris chooses to comprehensively and quite viciously mock everything about it - Culhwch and Yspaddaden are depicted loutish barbarians and Olwen as ugly and shrewish to boot, and nothing about it is left unparodied. It's fine to think, and even to point out, that perhaps the heroic deeds celebrated by this old story are not particularly heroic in terms of humble service of the least; but perhaps we would be well served not to despise our ancestors for taking joy in such bright and cheerful things, as stealing a giant's beard to weave a leash for a mythical creature. Such feats may not live up to YOUR idea of perfect sacrificial heroism, Mr Morris, but they were cheerful enough to put heart and pride into a colonised and downtrodden people for centuries of English occupation, and by mocking them you don't merely merely mock a notion of heroism; it comes across as mocking an entire nation.
I'm sad, because this book (and series) contains so much stuff that I absolutely love. But as with so much medievalist fiction written these days, I find myself taking up the cudgels for my babies. I love the medievals, with their huge emotions and their synchronised mass fainting-fits and their tall tales and especially their ridiculous pointy shoes and fancy hats, and nobody should criticise them except me.
Which is not to say that there isn't still wonderful stuff in the story. I was SO pleased with the skewering of Tristram and Iseult, the two Arthurian characters who need it the most. It was lots of fun to have a knightly protagonist who is just a happy-go-lucky minstrel. Sir Palomides got to be way more awesome than he ever was in Malory, and I loved Morris' version of him (and finally!!! a 21st century Arthurian retelling that foregrounds the single most prominent POC in the Arthurian canon!) I've always needed to read a version of Brangwaine, Iseult's longsuffering lady-in-waiting, who gets to roll her eyes over her queen's ridiculousness. And the romantic climax...if it can be called that...had me hooting with delight.
On the other hand, I don't always care for the way Morris writes women, and I'm not sure that Iseult needed to be turned into a conniving would-be murderer in order to make her unsympathetic. Her motivation for this is simply proclaimed (by male characters) as being feminine jealousy, which made me roll my eyes pretty hard. Then, as always, Morris' lampooning of medieval romance tropes like courtly love didn't always feel on target: at times the message sometimes felt like it was telling us that Real Men Don't Make Poetry About Love, which, like the Real Men Don't Wear Fancy Hats message of the previous book, strikes me as an attitude with more than a hint of toxic masculinity about it. And, finally, I found Morris' take on the tale of Culhwch and Olwen to be a source of incredible discomfort. This is a very, VERY old Welsh story from the Mabinogion, a body of work with deep links to Welsh language and national identity, yet Morris chooses to comprehensively and quite viciously mock everything about it - Culhwch and Yspaddaden are depicted loutish barbarians and Olwen as ugly and shrewish to boot, and nothing about it is left unparodied. It's fine to think, and even to point out, that perhaps the heroic deeds celebrated by this old story are not particularly heroic in terms of humble service of the least; but perhaps we would be well served not to despise our ancestors for taking joy in such bright and cheerful things, as stealing a giant's beard to weave a leash for a mythical creature. Such feats may not live up to YOUR idea of perfect sacrificial heroism, Mr Morris, but they were cheerful enough to put heart and pride into a colonised and downtrodden people for centuries of English occupation, and by mocking them you don't merely merely mock a notion of heroism; it comes across as mocking an entire nation.
I'm sad, because this book (and series) contains so much stuff that I absolutely love. But as with so much medievalist fiction written these days, I find myself taking up the cudgels for my babies. I love the medievals, with their huge emotions and their synchronised mass fainting-fits and their tall tales and especially their ridiculous pointy shoes and fancy hats, and nobody should criticise them except me.
September 4, 2010
A brilliant retelling of Arthurian legend through the character of Sir Dinadan. Intelligent, creative, and honorable, Dinadan is the least capable knight of the Round Table (at least in terms of fighting prowess), but also one of the most popular among his peers.
Much of the book's humor comes from Dinadan's relentless mockery of knightly conventions (Fighting a stranger who says his lady is fairer than yours? Absurd!). For the rare readers who have also read Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur (1471), Morris's clever references to Dinadan's role as the hapless sidekick to other, more famous knights (usually Sir Tristram, but sometimes Lancelot) in Le Morte will have them nodding and chuckling throughout.
Much of the book's humor comes from Dinadan's relentless mockery of knightly conventions (Fighting a stranger who says his lady is fairer than yours? Absurd!). For the rare readers who have also read Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur (1471), Morris's clever references to Dinadan's role as the hapless sidekick to other, more famous knights (usually Sir Tristram, but sometimes Lancelot) in Le Morte will have them nodding and chuckling throughout.
February 23, 2013
I want to say I really liked this, because it was really fun -- light-hearted, not too concerned about the 'spirit' of the old stories, ready enough to laugh and actually, in one respect at least, unpredictable. And Kay really was himself, his Celtic self --
Except that Gerald Morris didn't have the sweetest fucking clue what he was talking about. "The oldest of the Arthurian stories were not originally written down, or even told. They were set to music and sung by professional singers -- called minstrels or troubadours in England, trouveres or jongleurs in France, and minnesingers in Germany."
No.
The oldest of the Arthurian stories were Welsh. The oldest prose tale was Culhwch and Olwen; the poem 'Pa gur' is possibly older, I don't have an encyclopaedic knowledge of this. I don't mind Gerald Morris' mockery of the story itself, but pigheaded ignorance infuriates me. It would've been slightly better if he'd talked about Britain, but only slightly.
Unfortunately, my dissertation needs 2,000 more words, and I don't want to insult Tony Hays by reading The Stolen Bride and The Beloved Dead in a hurry, and there's stuff to say about Morris' Kay, so I think I'm stuck with finishing out the series. But fuck, that made me angry. And yes, I feel perfectly justified giving a book I enjoyed while reading it two stars because the author didn't know how to open a book and do some research.
Except that Gerald Morris didn't have the sweetest fucking clue what he was talking about. "The oldest of the Arthurian stories were not originally written down, or even told. They were set to music and sung by professional singers -- called minstrels or troubadours in England, trouveres or jongleurs in France, and minnesingers in Germany."
No.
The oldest of the Arthurian stories were Welsh. The oldest prose tale was Culhwch and Olwen; the poem 'Pa gur' is possibly older, I don't have an encyclopaedic knowledge of this. I don't mind Gerald Morris' mockery of the story itself, but pigheaded ignorance infuriates me. It would've been slightly better if he'd talked about Britain, but only slightly.
Unfortunately, my dissertation needs 2,000 more words, and I don't want to insult Tony Hays by reading The Stolen Bride and The Beloved Dead in a hurry, and there's stuff to say about Morris' Kay, so I think I'm stuck with finishing out the series. But fuck, that made me angry. And yes, I feel perfectly justified giving a book I enjoyed while reading it two stars because the author didn't know how to open a book and do some research.
March 23, 2021
Light and entertaining, mostly because Dinadan is great. I don’t like Tristam and Iseult at all (and I don’t think Morris does, either), but Dinadan’s personality is such a light touch that it makes anything he narrates entertaining.
March 10, 2014
The fifth book of the "Squire's Tales" series continues this Wisconsin-based author's retelling of Arthurian legends for younger readers with a combination of two knightly love stories with the point of view of a minstrel knight who has fallen out of love with romantic love. Forced into knighthood, though he would rather be a rebec-playing troubadour, Sir Dinadan rides out into the English countryside in search of inspiration for heroic ballads. Instead, he finds disillusionment. First it comes in the form of a beautiful lady who toys with his heart and tries to trick him into doing something vile. Then he observes the series tasks that a would-be knight named Culloch must do to win the hand of a Welsh princess—ridiculous tasks that have nothing to do with the "helping the helpless" sort of thing King Arthur values in his knights. And thirdly, he gets mixed up in the affair of Tristram and Iseult, the most tragic lovers in all of song and legend, though in reality (as Dinadan sees it) theirs is the stupidest and sordidest story of all.
Of course, Dinadan also meets King Arthur himself. He goes questing with Sir Kai and Sir Bedivere. He befriends Sir Gaheris, younger brother of Gawain. He plays a role in the Moorish knight Sir Palomides' quest to understand the true nature of knighthood. He helps a prince reclaim his throne from a pair of pair of vile usurpers, and he puts a lady-in-waiting who knows too much in the medieval world's witness protection program. He solves a missing-persons mystery, helps an abused wife and her children escape from their abuser, and even meets some magical beings. But for all the charm, humor, and romance of his adventures, his is still a journey of disillusionment. It turns out that knights aren't always (or even often) paragons of virtue, honor, and public-spiritedness. Nor is the happy ending necessarily when the boy and the girl get married.
As usual, Morris skillfully draws together material from a variety of traditions, including authentic minstrel songs, the Welsh Mabinogion, Malory's Morte d'Arthur, and even a bit of Shakespeare. Though the hero in this installment is a tiny figure in Arthurian literature, his sarcastic wit combine with his willingness to decline an offer of combat make him a remarkable point-of-view character in a series of quests and chivalric encounters. Frankly, someone was bound to point out that stupidity is the active ingredient in the tragedy of Tristram and Iseult, as well as Culloch's winning of the fair Olwen. Not all legends are founded on good sense, or even good taste; it's about time that someone let the air out of them. How better to do it than by making them detours in an easygoing knight's quest for nothing in particular, except maybe for the inspiration for his next tune? How better to appreciate the strengths and weaknesses of these tales than from the eyewitness perspective of a young man who has the deep insight, for instance, to call Sir Tristram a "fatuous clodpole"?
I continue to enjoy these novelizations of the deeds of the Round Table, each blending ancient tales with original material. Next in the series is The Princess, the Crone, and the Dung Cart Knight, a title I have anticipated with pleasure. After that are at least four more titles in this series. Plus, Morris has also written some four illustrated children's books about the knights of the Round Table, grouped under the title "The Knights' Tales." The Adventures of Sir Lancelot the Great looks like a fun way to start Junior on his quest to discover the secrets of knightliness.
Of course, Dinadan also meets King Arthur himself. He goes questing with Sir Kai and Sir Bedivere. He befriends Sir Gaheris, younger brother of Gawain. He plays a role in the Moorish knight Sir Palomides' quest to understand the true nature of knighthood. He helps a prince reclaim his throne from a pair of pair of vile usurpers, and he puts a lady-in-waiting who knows too much in the medieval world's witness protection program. He solves a missing-persons mystery, helps an abused wife and her children escape from their abuser, and even meets some magical beings. But for all the charm, humor, and romance of his adventures, his is still a journey of disillusionment. It turns out that knights aren't always (or even often) paragons of virtue, honor, and public-spiritedness. Nor is the happy ending necessarily when the boy and the girl get married.
As usual, Morris skillfully draws together material from a variety of traditions, including authentic minstrel songs, the Welsh Mabinogion, Malory's Morte d'Arthur, and even a bit of Shakespeare. Though the hero in this installment is a tiny figure in Arthurian literature, his sarcastic wit combine with his willingness to decline an offer of combat make him a remarkable point-of-view character in a series of quests and chivalric encounters. Frankly, someone was bound to point out that stupidity is the active ingredient in the tragedy of Tristram and Iseult, as well as Culloch's winning of the fair Olwen. Not all legends are founded on good sense, or even good taste; it's about time that someone let the air out of them. How better to do it than by making them detours in an easygoing knight's quest for nothing in particular, except maybe for the inspiration for his next tune? How better to appreciate the strengths and weaknesses of these tales than from the eyewitness perspective of a young man who has the deep insight, for instance, to call Sir Tristram a "fatuous clodpole"?
I continue to enjoy these novelizations of the deeds of the Round Table, each blending ancient tales with original material. Next in the series is The Princess, the Crone, and the Dung Cart Knight, a title I have anticipated with pleasure. After that are at least four more titles in this series. Plus, Morris has also written some four illustrated children's books about the knights of the Round Table, grouped under the title "The Knights' Tales." The Adventures of Sir Lancelot the Great looks like a fun way to start Junior on his quest to discover the secrets of knightliness.
April 21, 2015
Dinadan is such a fun character, especially the way Mr. Morris writes him! This book is a retelling of two legends that aren't technically Arthurian, one of which is the story of Tristan and Isolde. Boy. His spin on those two is like no other I've read.
The Ballad of Sir Dinadan feels geared toward an older audience than the rest of the series so far. So while the other books are technically children's, I'd call this more of a young adult book.
The Ballad of Sir Dinadan feels geared toward an older audience than the rest of the series so far. So while the other books are technically children's, I'd call this more of a young adult book.
June 23, 2013
There are so many ways that the legends of Arthur can be told.
Dinadan's is quite interesting. He's a minstrel, no matter how much he given the title of Sir.
So everyone knows that it's suspected that the legends have been exaggerated. However it's really interesting to see the legends from the POV of the exaggerator, and why they did it. It's an interesting way of putting things, and quite funny.
Morris actually did a quite un-imaginable feat. One character was Welsh, and they spent a bit of time in Wales. However the character was so stupid that I didn't actually care for them, as I've always cared for Welsh character.
This also investigates how much the songs have protected and shaped people. On one particular adventure, it's quite apparent and wonderful. The power of words is quite a miracle. It's also interesting how much the knight does that he doesn't talk about. How many people he protects but then never sees the fame.
I enjoyed the bit with the Moorish knight, I see how he learns how a knight is supposed to behave.
The lack of love story is actually quite interesting as well. It's a side of love stories that we never see. I enjoyed their decision, and I accept it. It's quite interesting. I liked it.
The recognition that you can't help everyone was lovely too.
Dinadan really showed the side of the knight that you never see.
Dinadan's is quite interesting. He's a minstrel, no matter how much he given the title of Sir.
So everyone knows that it's suspected that the legends have been exaggerated. However it's really interesting to see the legends from the POV of the exaggerator, and why they did it. It's an interesting way of putting things, and quite funny.
Morris actually did a quite un-imaginable feat. One character was Welsh, and they spent a bit of time in Wales. However the character was so stupid that I didn't actually care for them, as I've always cared for Welsh character.
This also investigates how much the songs have protected and shaped people. On one particular adventure, it's quite apparent and wonderful. The power of words is quite a miracle. It's also interesting how much the knight does that he doesn't talk about. How many people he protects but then never sees the fame.
I enjoyed the bit with the Moorish knight, I see how he learns how a knight is supposed to behave.
The lack of love story is actually quite interesting as well. It's a side of love stories that we never see. I enjoyed their decision, and I accept it. It's quite interesting. I liked it.
The recognition that you can't help everyone was lovely too.
Dinadan really showed the side of the knight that you never see.
August 12, 2011
A funny take on the stories of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. Part of a series, this particular book is the story of Dinadan, knighted in a drunken fit by his father and sent out to earn his knighthood. But Dinadan is inept with the sword or fighting, and would much rather compose and sing songs as a minstrel. He has comical encounters with other knights of varying degrees of competency, from one who swears a lovesick vow of silence (to everyone and anyone within earshot, all day long!) to one who fights and acts quite nobly. Dinadan thinks he is a much better minstrel than a knight, but through these adventures and his interactions with a Moor named Palomides, he realizes he is a better knight than many others. Dinadan tells his story with dry wit, laughing at the romantic entanglements of other knights, but finding true love himself despite claiming not to be interested in romance. Fun and different than anything I've read in a long while. Medieval lite, if you will; not a lot of details about clothing and food and customs of the times, just straightforward story.
April 26, 2010
That's it--I want to own the series. Gentle humor, instruction in common sense through entertaining narrative, and a good introduction to Arthurian legends--Morris has done very well.
November 23, 2014
I love this series, It's so funny and so exciting and so adventurous. It makes me so happy.
July 5, 2022
I didn't have the language when I first read this at age 10 to articulate that this book centers a queerplatonic relationship, but now I do and it's marvelous.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 5, 2023
One thing I like about this book, compared to the others, is that it's more focused on its main plotlines rather than a bunch of episodic adventures. What I didn't like is how Morris adapts those main plotlines.
I haven't actually read "Culhwch and Olwen," but I know the basic story, and I'm honestly confused by Morris' decision to remove every detail that makes it interesting. Culhwch/Culloch is no longer Arthur's cousin, he's not under a curse, Isabadaddon isn't a giant, he's not going to die if Culhwch succeeds, Olwen isn't supernaturally beautiful and she doesn't even get enough characterization for us to understand why we're not supposed to like her. The whole setup doesn't even make sense anymore. In the poem, Culhwch and friends just show up and ask for Olwen's hand in marriage. Here, Isabad makes an announcement for people to come and try to win it, but he still seems weirdly angry at Culloch, until he randomly doesn't anymore.
Given how much Morris likes to add fairy folklore into his stories, it would have been easy to make Isabad and Olwen into residents of the Other World, given their supernaturality in the original story. Instead, he weirdly decides to turn this whole plot into a demythification, where none of Culhwch's tasks are magical and they're treated as being stupid and pointless.
Seriously: one of them is to find a basket that makes infinite food. Even before finding out that it's fake, the characters act like this is a stupid thing for Isabad to want. Are you...unaware that people need food, Gerald? And that many people, in fact, die from a lack of it? And that, by this logic, something that makes infinite food would basically be the most useful thing ever?
Anyway, it has the problem of most demythifications: it's less interesting and misses the point of the story. And it's a return to my biggest problem with the previous books: Morris' arbitrary choosing some parts of Arthurian legend to make bad just so that his characters can talk about how bad they are. So Culloch and Olwen become a rehash of how Morris portrayed Gareth and Lyonesse, and the characters that he favors hate being involved in this plotline.
Look, if you don't like the story of Culhwch and Olwen, don't adapt it. It's not fun to read a story that you've sucked the fun out of, all while the characters complain about how not fun this story is.
Speaking of which, there's a bad minstrel character named Wadsworth who exists just to recite medieval poetry that Morris doesn't like. He's annoying, but it's also annoying that he disappears halfway through the story—the narration just says that he got sick and stopped traveling with the protagonists, and he's never mentioned again. I guess he was so lame even Morris got tired of him.
Another one of Culloch's tasks is to find a missing kid named Mabon, son of Madron. I'm torn about this part. On the one hand, it's another dumb change—and honestly, I don't think Morris did his research here, because Madron is supposed to be Mabon's mother and a fairy princess, while in this version, Madron is a normal human man. I do enjoy the story we get, though, and the question of how an Arthurian hero deals with a problem as mundane as helping an abused family.
Dinadan himself, I have to add, is one of the strongest points in this book. In this and other cases, he solves problems in a borderline antiheroic way, doing tricky and unchivalrous things for the greater good. And he's actually funny, which is a plus. For that matter, his relationship with Brangienne is nice, and Bedivere is a good addition to our main Round Table cast, his soft-spoken generosity making him a good foil for Kai. And of course, Palomides. He's a bit more stiff and "exotic" than I would have written him, but I like that he's a voice of moral reason, and that he keeps a bit of his crush on Iseult so as to not be too flawless.
The other main plot is based on Tristram and Iseult. Now, if you've read my review of Le Morte D'Arthur, you know that I HATE Tristram. More than any other fictional character in anything, ever. So I am ALL HERE for Tristram bashing. That said, I don't necessarily like the way that Morris does it.
For one...guess what? It's a story about how courtly love is dumb. Again! Not a bad theme, but getting a bit tired in the repetition. And it's a pity, because THIS is the perfect story to make that point, if Morris hadn't already made it so many times before. And Tristram is an idiot and Iseult is a spoiled brat. Again: perfect, if you hadn't already pulled this multiple times already, including in this very book.
Granted, Morris' deconstructive Tristam is actually more likeable than the LMD'A version, in the same way that eating anchovy-flavored ice cream is preferable to dog feces. And I kind of dig Iseult as an evil femme fatale queen who's ridiculous but still threatening. Overall I think the story improves as we focus more on their plot, but there's still a lot to dislike, including a lot of little changes. For example, in this version, Marhault is a relative of King Mark's instead of being Iseult's uncle, which leads to Morris struggling to explain why he was fighting for Iseult's dad in their war, and adding details to make Tristram seem worse in their battle. (You don't need to change things to make Tristram look bad. You can just write him as is.)
Tristram and Dinadan are brothers in this series. I actually liked this change at first, because in the legends, they're friends who really don't have much reason to be friends—they have nothing in common, and Tristram treats Dinadan like crap, because that is how he treats everybody whom he supposedly cares about. Making them brothers would actually give Dinadan a reason to hang out with him. The thing is, they don't really "hang out" in this story, more just keep running into each other. Dinadan does seem to feel some brotherly bond with him, a little, but I feel like more could have been done with this setup.
King Mark (who is not Tristram and Dinadan's uncle—seriously, why are the families switched around so much?) is evil here. I'm not sure why, since he's mainly only evil in versions that are trying to make Tristram and Iseult look better by comparison. He is given a bit of sympathy, at least.
Morris decided to keep the love potion. At the risk of contradicting my "demythification" point, I feel like this was a mistake. For one, the love potion isn't in every version—and at least in LMD'A, it really doesn't make sense, because Malory throws it in as an afterthought after they've been using their relationship to justify their horrible behavior. Also, if you're leaning on the idea that they're in the wrong, the love potion just muddies the moral waters of how much they can be blamed for their actions. It could be interesting to explore, but Morris doesn't do anything with it.
It's also worth noting that reappears in this story. It doesn't amount to much, but I'm tentatively interested in seeing where it's going, and having as a henchman is a clever twist.
So, overall: this book ruins "Culhwch and Olwen" and only moderately improves "Tristram and Iseult." There are a few good characters, and honestly some witty or insightful lines, but the overall story is somewhere between meh and annoying.
I haven't actually read "Culhwch and Olwen," but I know the basic story, and I'm honestly confused by Morris' decision to remove every detail that makes it interesting. Culhwch/Culloch is no longer Arthur's cousin, he's not under a curse, Isabadaddon isn't a giant, he's not going to die if Culhwch succeeds, Olwen isn't supernaturally beautiful and she doesn't even get enough characterization for us to understand why we're not supposed to like her. The whole setup doesn't even make sense anymore. In the poem, Culhwch and friends just show up and ask for Olwen's hand in marriage. Here, Isabad makes an announcement for people to come and try to win it, but he still seems weirdly angry at Culloch, until he randomly doesn't anymore.
Given how much Morris likes to add fairy folklore into his stories, it would have been easy to make Isabad and Olwen into residents of the Other World, given their supernaturality in the original story. Instead, he weirdly decides to turn this whole plot into a demythification, where none of Culhwch's tasks are magical and they're treated as being stupid and pointless.
Seriously: one of them is to find a basket that makes infinite food. Even before finding out that it's fake, the characters act like this is a stupid thing for Isabad to want. Are you...unaware that people need food, Gerald? And that many people, in fact, die from a lack of it? And that, by this logic, something that makes infinite food would basically be the most useful thing ever?
Anyway, it has the problem of most demythifications: it's less interesting and misses the point of the story. And it's a return to my biggest problem with the previous books: Morris' arbitrary choosing some parts of Arthurian legend to make bad just so that his characters can talk about how bad they are. So Culloch and Olwen become a rehash of how Morris portrayed Gareth and Lyonesse, and the characters that he favors hate being involved in this plotline.
Look, if you don't like the story of Culhwch and Olwen, don't adapt it. It's not fun to read a story that you've sucked the fun out of, all while the characters complain about how not fun this story is.
Speaking of which, there's a bad minstrel character named Wadsworth who exists just to recite medieval poetry that Morris doesn't like. He's annoying, but it's also annoying that he disappears halfway through the story—the narration just says that he got sick and stopped traveling with the protagonists, and he's never mentioned again. I guess he was so lame even Morris got tired of him.
Another one of Culloch's tasks is to find a missing kid named Mabon, son of Madron. I'm torn about this part. On the one hand, it's another dumb change—and honestly, I don't think Morris did his research here, because Madron is supposed to be Mabon's mother and a fairy princess, while in this version, Madron is a normal human man. I do enjoy the story we get, though, and the question of how an Arthurian hero deals with a problem as mundane as helping an abused family.
Dinadan himself, I have to add, is one of the strongest points in this book. In this and other cases, he solves problems in a borderline antiheroic way, doing tricky and unchivalrous things for the greater good. And he's actually funny, which is a plus. For that matter, his relationship with Brangienne is nice, and Bedivere is a good addition to our main Round Table cast, his soft-spoken generosity making him a good foil for Kai. And of course, Palomides. He's a bit more stiff and "exotic" than I would have written him, but I like that he's a voice of moral reason, and that he keeps a bit of his crush on Iseult so as to not be too flawless.
The other main plot is based on Tristram and Iseult. Now, if you've read my review of Le Morte D'Arthur, you know that I HATE Tristram. More than any other fictional character in anything, ever. So I am ALL HERE for Tristram bashing. That said, I don't necessarily like the way that Morris does it.
For one...guess what? It's a story about how courtly love is dumb. Again! Not a bad theme, but getting a bit tired in the repetition. And it's a pity, because THIS is the perfect story to make that point, if Morris hadn't already made it so many times before. And Tristram is an idiot and Iseult is a spoiled brat. Again: perfect, if you hadn't already pulled this multiple times already, including in this very book.
Granted, Morris' deconstructive Tristam is actually more likeable than the LMD'A version, in the same way that eating anchovy-flavored ice cream is preferable to dog feces. And I kind of dig Iseult as an evil femme fatale queen who's ridiculous but still threatening. Overall I think the story improves as we focus more on their plot, but there's still a lot to dislike, including a lot of little changes. For example, in this version, Marhault is a relative of King Mark's instead of being Iseult's uncle, which leads to Morris struggling to explain why he was fighting for Iseult's dad in their war, and adding details to make Tristram seem worse in their battle. (You don't need to change things to make Tristram look bad. You can just write him as is.)
Tristram and Dinadan are brothers in this series. I actually liked this change at first, because in the legends, they're friends who really don't have much reason to be friends—they have nothing in common, and Tristram treats Dinadan like crap, because that is how he treats everybody whom he supposedly cares about. Making them brothers would actually give Dinadan a reason to hang out with him. The thing is, they don't really "hang out" in this story, more just keep running into each other. Dinadan does seem to feel some brotherly bond with him, a little, but I feel like more could have been done with this setup.
King Mark (who is not Tristram and Dinadan's uncle—seriously, why are the families switched around so much?) is evil here. I'm not sure why, since he's mainly only evil in versions that are trying to make Tristram and Iseult look better by comparison. He is given a bit of sympathy, at least.
Morris decided to keep the love potion. At the risk of contradicting my "demythification" point, I feel like this was a mistake. For one, the love potion isn't in every version—and at least in LMD'A, it really doesn't make sense, because Malory throws it in as an afterthought after they've been using their relationship to justify their horrible behavior. Also, if you're leaning on the idea that they're in the wrong, the love potion just muddies the moral waters of how much they can be blamed for their actions. It could be interesting to explore, but Morris doesn't do anything with it.
It's also worth noting that reappears in this story. It doesn't amount to much, but I'm tentatively interested in seeing where it's going, and having as a henchman is a clever twist.
So, overall: this book ruins "Culhwch and Olwen" and only moderately improves "Tristram and Iseult." There are a few good characters, and honestly some witty or insightful lines, but the overall story is somewhere between meh and annoying.
January 23, 2024
vvv Book Analysis with possible spoilers below vvv
This book does an amazing job covering how quickly relationships can turn toxic due to selfish behavior and preconceived ideas about how relationships are supposed to go, and what you’re supposed to do.
I think Dinadan’s whole Ted talk about how no knight is perfect, because all have different ideas of what being a knight means is really important, and can be an allegory for everyone in any position, but especially when it comes to gender.
I loved this book, and Gerald Morris did another great job showing off this period and the legends.
When Gaheris showed up again i definitely giggled and kicked my feet, Kai proves himself yet again one of the best knights, and Bedivere is a darling.
This book does an amazing job covering how quickly relationships can turn toxic due to selfish behavior and preconceived ideas about how relationships are supposed to go, and what you’re supposed to do.
I think Dinadan’s whole Ted talk about how no knight is perfect, because all have different ideas of what being a knight means is really important, and can be an allegory for everyone in any position, but especially when it comes to gender.
I loved this book, and Gerald Morris did another great job showing off this period and the legends.
When Gaheris showed up again i definitely giggled and kicked my feet, Kai proves himself yet again one of the best knights, and Bedivere is a darling.
April 2, 2025
After gifting this, I decided rereading was in order. Every bit as charming as I remember, the perfect Arthurian tale of humility and honor. What I couldn't quite recall was the ending of the romance, and though I didn't intend any allegory, I think happily ever after is more often found in friendship. Two people who love eachother do not need to uproot their whole lives and become entangled.
January 14, 2023
I am begging you: Read this book
I (accidentally) binge-read this book in two hours. The main character, Dinadan, is honestly the sassy side character of my dreams. The writing was well done, the characters strong and unique, and the dialogue was absolutely hilarious. This book is too good to be in the YA section where I found it, and I'll tell you why.
Dinadan is the music-loving (and very musically talented) younger brother of Sir Tristam (Yes, THAT Sir Tristam from the story of Sir Tristam and Iseult). Dinadan has no desire to be a knight, but ends up one anyway. Dinadan is friendly, funny, kind, and brave and despite his awkwardness with a sord he gets wrapped up in constantly in other's adventures. Eventually, he even gets caught up in the chaos that is Tristam's passion with Lady Iseult.
To cut a long description short, here is the heart of the story: Gerald Morris has, through the eyes of Sir Dinadan, displayed how pointless and ugly passionate, selfish love is and how it thrives on hate instead of love by comparing to Dinadan's own kindness and his lasting friendships. The central idea of the book is that a lasting, honest love between friends is truer and happier than the strongest passion ever was or can be.
Everybody should read this book. If you are just tired of the sappy and passionate "romances" found throughout most books in the YA genre. And even if you aren't tired of reading about love-sick, shallow characters then you should read this book too.
It's an easy, simple read, but very well done. The cover is ugly, but try not to judge it by that. You don't even need to read the rest of the series (though I highly recommend it) this story can hold its own.
So, I beg you, read this book.
If that's not enough for you, I dare you to read it.
I (accidentally) binge-read this book in two hours. The main character, Dinadan, is honestly the sassy side character of my dreams. The writing was well done, the characters strong and unique, and the dialogue was absolutely hilarious. This book is too good to be in the YA section where I found it, and I'll tell you why.
Dinadan is the music-loving (and very musically talented) younger brother of Sir Tristam (Yes, THAT Sir Tristam from the story of Sir Tristam and Iseult). Dinadan has no desire to be a knight, but ends up one anyway. Dinadan is friendly, funny, kind, and brave and despite his awkwardness with a sord he gets wrapped up in constantly in other's adventures. Eventually, he even gets caught up in the chaos that is Tristam's passion with Lady Iseult.
To cut a long description short, here is the heart of the story: Gerald Morris has, through the eyes of Sir Dinadan, displayed how pointless and ugly passionate, selfish love is and how it thrives on hate instead of love by comparing to Dinadan's own kindness and his lasting friendships. The central idea of the book is that a lasting, honest love between friends is truer and happier than the strongest passion ever was or can be.
Everybody should read this book. If you are just tired of the sappy and passionate "romances" found throughout most books in the YA genre. And even if you aren't tired of reading about love-sick, shallow characters then you should read this book too.
It's an easy, simple read, but very well done. The cover is ugly, but try not to judge it by that. You don't even need to read the rest of the series (though I highly recommend it) this story can hold its own.
So, I beg you, read this book.
If that's not enough for you, I dare you to read it.
July 8, 2014
Gerald Morris books are like Lays chips. You can never eat just one.
His stories are full of wit,adventures,and spunky love stories that leave you smiling like a madman that has just escaped an Insane Asylum.
His books can all be read as novels, but if you read all his books, which you SHOULD, then you will soon meet the characters from your last book as side characters in the next. It's great fun seeing all these stories interlacing with each other. Each thread in itself is a lovely story, but you must read them all to see the beautiful tapestry that they make when they're together.
His stories are full of wit,adventures,and spunky love stories that leave you smiling like a madman that has just escaped an Insane Asylum.
His books can all be read as novels, but if you read all his books, which you SHOULD, then you will soon meet the characters from your last book as side characters in the next. It's great fun seeing all these stories interlacing with each other. Each thread in itself is a lovely story, but you must read them all to see the beautiful tapestry that they make when they're together.
September 5, 2017
I seriously love all the books in this series that I've read so far. This book made me laugh out loud a lot. I especially love the story of Tristram and Iseult. What a goofy couple. I'm not sure that I liked the ending. I'm going to have to think about it for awhile.
Read
October 25, 2010Good again. This time a young noble who is fairly lousy at the fighting part of knighthood, but great at storytelling and playing the rebec. In spite of himself he develops the courage and nobility of knighthood.
March 14, 2025
I have been loving this series, but Dinadan was quite the let-down for me. Unlike in other books in the series, I did not find myself enjoying the characters’ run-ins with the vast catalogue of Arthurian characters to be charming. Perhaps it is because I knew Dinadan would just lie through his teeth about them later, perhaps it is because they didn’t feel like they were serving the plot in a meaningful way. Whatever the reason, I groaned each time Dinadan ran across someone new (or Tristram, again.)
I did miss Gawain and Terence quite a bit. I never minded the hyperbole or the leaving out of details in Gawain’d retellings, and I didn’t even mind Gaheris’ lies as they were mostly spoken out of a wounded and embittered heart. I was repeatedly nettled by Dinadan’s lies, even the ones with happy endings. He lies constantly and then has the audacity to mock others for their own shortcomings. Like, Culloch is an idiot, but he isn’t bad. Tristram is a mindless buffoon, arguably driven mad by a love potion.
There were points here that felt like they were never tied up—what -were- Iseult and Tristram doing in Brangienne’s room, shuffling through her things? You brought it up, Mr. Morris, not I. I wanted a good pay-off for this that would explain Iseult’s catty jealousy, like maybe the love potion was a fake that they invented to justify their unfaithfulness. Having them actually accidentally drink it makes them somewhat sympathetic, which doesn’t seem to have been Mr. Morris’ intent.
Bedivere, Kai, and Palomides were the bright lights in this book for me. Mr. Morris is still witty, and his characters are humorous. His dialogue walks an artful line of sounding modern AND fantastical enough for the setting. I just think the ingredients didn’t quite mesh in this particular story soup.
Quick note: as a person with close family members who are very happy in religious life, it was pleasant to see a character CHOOSE religious life and express that it brought her fulfillment and joy.
I did miss Gawain and Terence quite a bit. I never minded the hyperbole or the leaving out of details in Gawain’d retellings, and I didn’t even mind Gaheris’ lies as they were mostly spoken out of a wounded and embittered heart. I was repeatedly nettled by Dinadan’s lies, even the ones with happy endings. He lies constantly and then has the audacity to mock others for their own shortcomings. Like, Culloch is an idiot, but he isn’t bad. Tristram is a mindless buffoon, arguably driven mad by a love potion.
There were points here that felt like they were never tied up—what -were- Iseult and Tristram doing in Brangienne’s room, shuffling through her things? You brought it up, Mr. Morris, not I. I wanted a good pay-off for this that would explain Iseult’s catty jealousy, like maybe the love potion was a fake that they invented to justify their unfaithfulness. Having them actually accidentally drink it makes them somewhat sympathetic, which doesn’t seem to have been Mr. Morris’ intent.
Bedivere, Kai, and Palomides were the bright lights in this book for me. Mr. Morris is still witty, and his characters are humorous. His dialogue walks an artful line of sounding modern AND fantastical enough for the setting. I just think the ingredients didn’t quite mesh in this particular story soup.
Quick note: as a person with close family members who are very happy in religious life, it was pleasant to see a character CHOOSE religious life and express that it brought her fulfillment and joy.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Read
November 18, 2024I'm going to leave this review un-starred because I accept that I am most likely not the target audience and because I also admit that I came into this with great bias. Anyways. yeah I really hated this book lol. Yes, I read this for the promise of Tristan and Iseult, and MAN was I disappointed if not outright furious at times. I got so annoyed that I'm now writing a review with everything capitalized and such. God. Sorry. But I read this last last night at like 3am and I am STILL pissed about it. I get that you hate courtly love and cheaters or whatever but like?? Bro read STRASSBURG and wrote THIS???? If he had only mentioned having used Malory as a basis in the end notes I would've understood, I mean, when your base is shit it's no surprise the inspired product will be shit too. But STRASSBURG??????????????????? BRO READ ONE OF THE MOST TENDER, SYMPATHETIC RENDERINGS OF THE TRISTAN AND ISEULT LEGEND AND STILL WROTE THIS????????????????????? Some things cannot be BORNE. I get that you need to show how much better and cool your volcel king is but oh my god if your Methodist ass cannot even APPRECIATE the love that does lie within the evil, wicked, sinister infidelity, then please.................... ALSO! When Tristan and Lamorak almost fight TRISTAN LITERALLY DENIES TO. LIKE HE REFUSES TO EVEN WHEN LAMORAK KEEPS INSULTING HIM. SO WHERE ARE YOU GETTING THIS WEIRDASS CHARACTERIZATION OF TRISTAN. There were ONE MILLION much more hilarious and very canon episodes of Tristan being silly in love but noooooo we have to make unfunny shit up so that we have a foil to set off the beautiful shining pure glory of Dinadan. Like I liked Dinadan don't get me wrong. But my god. You did not have to do all that to make me like him. It just pissed me off.
Don't even get me started on the writing of Iseult.
Don't even get me started on the writing of Iseult.
February 11, 2023
Dinadan, younger brother of the legendary Sir Tristram, wants nothing more than to play his rebec and be left in peace. Unfortunately, his father would rather his son be in ballads than sing them, and one night in a drunken fury he knights Dinadan and sends him off to do something noteworthy. Dinadan makes his way to King Arthur's court, where, despite never being terribly knightly, he becomes a favorite due to his self-effacing wit, musical talent, and quiet generosity. In the meantime, however, Tristram has gotten himself tangled up in an absurd love triangle, and Dinadan finds himself repeatedly dragged into his brother's mishaps.
The Ballad of Sir Dinadan is probably one of my favorites of The Squire's Tales so far, though I still like The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf best. It is the first book in which Gawain and Terence are entirely absent, and there are no journeys into the world of fairies. Dinadan, Brangienne, Palomides, and the others are likable and complex enough in their own right that I hardly noticed. Also, I am loving the slow-burn development of Sir Kay. I did think the ending "twist" seemed more for the sake of not repeating the other books than actually concluding the story well. I was a little disappointed with it. Also, Dinadan spends the entirety of the story riding around trying to fix other people's problems, and despite making some solid friends, nobody does the same for him. His story ends with him rather alone, and that makes me sad for him. But the series is only halfway over, so maybe his character will reappear and this will be resolved.
The Ballad of Sir Dinadan is probably one of my favorites of The Squire's Tales so far, though I still like The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf best. It is the first book in which Gawain and Terence are entirely absent, and there are no journeys into the world of fairies. Dinadan, Brangienne, Palomides, and the others are likable and complex enough in their own right that I hardly noticed. Also, I am loving the slow-burn development of Sir Kay. I did think the ending "twist" seemed more for the sake of not repeating the other books than actually concluding the story well. I was a little disappointed with it. Also, Dinadan spends the entirety of the story riding around trying to fix other people's problems, and despite making some solid friends, nobody does the same for him. His story ends with him rather alone, and that makes me sad for him. But the series is only halfway over, so maybe his character will reappear and this will be resolved.
December 28, 2021
Dinadan has no desire to be a knight, but after his father drunkenly forces knighthood upon him, Dinadan sets out for Camelot and unintentionally falls in with a group of knights bound on the worst sort of quest. Along the journey, Dinadan writes ballads about adventures, battles, and courtly love — discovering for himself that real quests are far stranger than the ones minstrels sing about.
The Ballad of Sir Dinadan is an epic entry into the Squire’s Tales series and does a stellar job of dissecting tropes of courtly love, chivalry, and knightly honor. Morris writes with humor that ranges from dry and ironic to utterly hilarious. While this book can easily be read as a standalone, there are lots of character cameos from previous books that tie in really delightfully.
The Ballad of Sir Dinadan also features many new characters — some creations of the author and some based on Arthurian legends. In this book we meet the noble Moorish knight Sir Palomides, the fierce Lady Bragienne, the dopey Culloch, and the outlandish Tristram and Iseult.
My favorite aspect of The Ballad of Sir Dinadan is how Morris uses his main character to examine the concept of love. Throughout the book, Dinadan keeps becoming entangled in other peoples romances — from the pure, to the doomed, to the ridiculous, to the utterly toxic. The Ballad of Sir Dinadan shows all of the different ways that love can affect us. Love may be divine, but it can also be selfish, cruel, or manipulative.
The ending of this book is utter perfection 😘
I would recommend this series to anyone looking for a lighthearted adventure with great characters, witty dialogue, and surprising depth! If you’re intimidated by a ten book series, The Ballad of Sir Dinadan is a great place to start.
The Ballad of Sir Dinadan is an epic entry into the Squire’s Tales series and does a stellar job of dissecting tropes of courtly love, chivalry, and knightly honor. Morris writes with humor that ranges from dry and ironic to utterly hilarious. While this book can easily be read as a standalone, there are lots of character cameos from previous books that tie in really delightfully.
The Ballad of Sir Dinadan also features many new characters — some creations of the author and some based on Arthurian legends. In this book we meet the noble Moorish knight Sir Palomides, the fierce Lady Bragienne, the dopey Culloch, and the outlandish Tristram and Iseult.
My favorite aspect of The Ballad of Sir Dinadan is how Morris uses his main character to examine the concept of love. Throughout the book, Dinadan keeps becoming entangled in other peoples romances — from the pure, to the doomed, to the ridiculous, to the utterly toxic. The Ballad of Sir Dinadan shows all of the different ways that love can affect us. Love may be divine, but it can also be selfish, cruel, or manipulative.
The ending of this book is utter perfection 😘
I would recommend this series to anyone looking for a lighthearted adventure with great characters, witty dialogue, and surprising depth! If you’re intimidated by a ten book series, The Ballad of Sir Dinadan is a great place to start.
June 19, 2022
I've got a crush on Sir Dinadan, for sure. He's my favorite of the MCs so far in the series (admittedly, I do like them all). I read this one mostly late at night when my family was sleeping, and I was choking back some actual laughter at times. I really enjoyed Morris' cameo on his dislike of writing allegory through a conversation between Sir Dinadan and Brother Eliot - a question Morris was probably constantly asked about as both pastor and fantasy writer. The scene where Dinadan finally lost his composure and yelled at Tristram that he was his brother really got me. I read that scene 5 times. And that's something I'm always marveling at with Morris' writing: how does he write such moving, human characters, without the page count and melodrama that is typical of YA fantasy? He's a genius! I do wish Dinadan had expressed some emotion at Tristram's death, but the a-romantic climax at the end with Brangienne was so well done and unexpected. I did the reading-equivalent of a double take. The more of these I read, the more excited I am to finish the series and then go and reread it all. I love how these leave me smiling every time I think of them.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 16, 2021
As an adult, I like this book just as much as I did as a child. Especially the ending. Yet as much as I find the sanitized Arthurian world that lacks any premonition of its future destruction to be restive, for me the dissonance between this novel's peace and the legend's end is disquieting enough to keep this book from five stars. Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of the Arthurian myths is the "once and future king" and its reassurance that no matter how dark the world becomes, a hero will always arise to help pull the world from the brink of its despair. Without the fall of the empire, there is no foretold return and its accompanying hope for the future. However, that is just a personal quibble and one that later books in this series may even address. Furthermore, even my niggling complaint isn't enough to detract from a lovely little novel that is sweet without being saccharine.
February 1, 2018
Definitely one of the weaker books in the series. The Culloch/Olwen storyline is kind of insulting in how stupid and gluttonous the characters are. The Tristan/Iseult storyline is really insulting in how stupid and petty and did I mention stupid they are. Kinda cool that Dinadan and Brangienne seem to both be asexual, maybe, since they both decide their love is platonic and neither are ever going to get married.
The plot meanders, like Gerald Morris was trying to get his wordcount up for Nanowrimo. The introduction of Sylvanus, satyr god of the forest was super random (obviously, needed for plot purposes), but considering Dinadan has nothing to do with the already established Other World, and none of the Other World characters (Terrence, Morgan, Gawain, Robin, etc) have anything to do with Dinadan... it's a clumsy deus ex machina.
The plot meanders, like Gerald Morris was trying to get his wordcount up for Nanowrimo. The introduction of Sylvanus, satyr god of the forest was super random (obviously, needed for plot purposes), but considering Dinadan has nothing to do with the already established Other World, and none of the Other World characters (Terrence, Morgan, Gawain, Robin, etc) have anything to do with Dinadan... it's a clumsy deus ex machina.
August 21, 2021
I love medieval minstrels and knights, so I saw this and thought it would be a fun lighthearted read. I wasn't expecting to get as emotionally invested as I did, but I genuinely fell in love with the characters of Dinadan, Brangienne, Palomides, and Bedivere. I thought the story as a whole was going to be fairly predictable, especially due to having some familiarity with the two main legends the story was based on, but the ending of Dinadan and Brangienne's story specifically took me by surprise in a very good way - it felt true to their characters and a satisfying ending.
Overall, the best praise I can give this book is that when I finished it, I immediately ordered the first book in the Squire's Tales series, knowing I wanted to read more of Morris' work. He seems like an excellent storyteller, whose work can be enjoyed and appreciated by people of all ages.
Overall, the best praise I can give this book is that when I finished it, I immediately ordered the first book in the Squire's Tales series, knowing I wanted to read more of Morris' work. He seems like an excellent storyteller, whose work can be enjoyed and appreciated by people of all ages.
January 13, 2022
Dinadan wants to be a minstrel, and is good at it. However, he ends up a knight wandering around the countryside. Alongside the normal knight activities of jousting, fighting, and defending ladies' honor, the story is equally about what it means to be a knight. Dinadan meets shining examples of knighthood from King Arthur's court and other places. He also meets ridiculous and piteous examples of knighthood from various places. As a minstrel wanna-be, he understands that the story told does not usually match events on the ground. The surface level of the book is fun and engaging. The sub-level is thought provoking.
June 16, 2021
Dinadan, second son, doesn't want to be a knight. He'd rather be able to study music and write his own songs. But his father has other plans. So when Dinadan is knighted (but his drunken father) he's forced to go out and live up to his older brother's (Sir Tristan) reputation.
He ends up on a quest with a want to be knight as well as Sir Kai and Sir Bedivere. The quest is quite frankly a disaster and one by one the knights abandon Culloch. Throughout the book Dinadan ends up getting pulled into Tristan's doomed relationship with Queen Isuelt.
He ends up on a quest with a want to be knight as well as Sir Kai and Sir Bedivere. The quest is quite frankly a disaster and one by one the knights abandon Culloch. Throughout the book Dinadan ends up getting pulled into Tristan's doomed relationship with Queen Isuelt.
June 15, 2018
Dinadan is a minstrel by inclination, and a knight sort of by accident. Still, he can't help helping people, or turning awkward incidents into popular songs. This is the first of Morris's Arthurian retellings that I read, several years ago. Even though it is fifth in the series, it stands alone pretty well, and is a great introduction to his thoughtful, witty style that makes these old legends sparkle. My younger boys are reading the series now, and I was happy to pick this one up again.
February 27, 2024
Honestly this one was a little disappointing. Dinadan is a great character, and his banter with Brangienne was good too but that banter was lost in the fact they were hardly ever together! The part with Kae and Bedivere was also very good, but we lost them as well. Overall, it was just a bit dull and lacking in relationships. The story was good and funny, but not much more. I did really like Dinadan’s songs though, especially the Dragon and the Damsel.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 133 reviews