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From French sources, Sir Thomas Malory, English writer in floruit in 1470, adapted Le Morte d'Arthur, a collection of romances, which William Caxton published in 1485.
From original tales such as the Vulgate Cycle, Sir Thomas Malory, an imprisoned knight in the fifteenth century, meanwhile compiled and translated the tales, which we know as the legend of king.
What a strange reading. The acceptance of the absolute and the supernatural is as revealing as it is in the sagas of India. The stories create great senses of space and isolation, but they are funny and devotional and hasty in judgement.
A tough slog. The language was harder for me than Shakespeare or the King James version of the Bible. I had a similar issue when trying to read Chaucer. I also found it difficult at times to keep track of the more ancillary players and who was related to whom and what their motivations were for behaving the way they did. It was strange to hear about all the swooning (including knights). And really how many people die over or become mad over unrequited love?
The fighting ended up being very repetitious as people would joust, then get off of their horses and bash each other for a while. Knights would swear to fight to the death only to meekly yield once they realized they were going to lose a fight.
Lancelot du Lac felt to me like the ancient version of deus ex machina. All was lost until...Lancelot to the rescue.
And ultimately the fate of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table is just plain sad.