1 marion zimmer bradley, Lady of Avalon. New York: Penguin, 1997. Pp. 461. isbn:0- 670-85783-1. $24.99 (cloth). Lady of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley’s third instalment in the Avalon series (Mists of Avalon [1982], The Forest House [1993]), describes the events—part history, part myth, part imagination—of the time she calls the ‘middle period’ (a.d. 96-452). This new novel begins months after the destruction of the Forest House and the settlement of some of the priestesses, under Caillean, on the Isle of Avalon, described at the end of The Forest House. Each of the novel’s three parts describes one generation of the inhabitants of Avalon and the changing political world around them, focussing on the recurring relationships between the High Priestesses and the Sacred Kings. Part One recounts the story of Caillean, High Priestess, Gawen (son of Eilan, the High Priestess killed at the Forest House, and her half-Roman lover Gaius, who dies with her at the hands of the Druid priests), and Sianna (daughter of the Faerie Queen and a benighted mortal lover). This first part establishes the fundamental triangular relationship repeated through the rest of the novel, and grounds the significance of that relationship in the enduring love of the Priestess (Sianna) and the Year King (Gawen). The second part (a.d. 285-293) describes the lives and loves of Dierna, Lady of Avalon;Teleri, princess of the native Durotriges; and Carausius, a senior Roman officer who eventually claimed the title of Emperor of Britain. This section, though significantly different in its configuration of the essential triangular relationship, nevertheless repeats the initial pattern: Lady of Avalon and the Sacred King; blood shed on and for Avalon in fulfilment of the Sacred King’s vows. The third part of the novel (a.d. 440-452) describes the early development and relationships of characters familiar to readers of Bradley’s Mists of Avalon, though she introduces those characters in the context of the patterns and motifs from the earlier sections. Bradley focuses on Viviane (sister to Igraine and Morgause), her mother Ana (the High Priestess), and Vortimer (son of Vortigern and yet another of the Sacred Kings). This third part, like the first, explicitly bridges the gap between the new novel and the earlier Mists of Avalon. In this case, we meet Viviane and her sisters, Taliesin (who becomes the Merlin), and both Ambrosius Aurelianus and the younger Uther. The three parts of the novel serve to mirror the three parts of the trilogy itself, and Bradley’s agenda seems clear in this work: to tie the whole project together while prefiguring and emphasising the themes and concerns central to the first novel, Mists of Avalon. For instance, after reading Lady of Avalon, the reader is cued to see in Arthur’s birth the culmination of a series of reincarnated lovers whose passions and deaths are essential to the preservation of the power and life of Britain. In this way, Igraine and Uther become only one in the line of lovers connected to Avalon and its mysteries: Igraine’s vision, in Mists of Avalon, of the serpents twining Uther’s arms is anticipated (in a backwards sense) in the tattoes on the arms of the Sacred Kings in the most recent book. Furthermore, by focusing on the mystical importance of the 2 arthuriana

Lady of Avalon and the Sacred King, this novel retroactively assigns even more importance to the love between Morgaine and her half-brother Arthur. Even though the overall intention seems consistent with the earlier books, Lady of Avalon, is, unfortunately, ultimately less successful in its final effect. In this novel, Bradley struggles with a much broader scope: the story covers a large expanse of narrative time in a relatively short book (356 years in 460 large-print pages, compared to one generation in nearly 900 pages in Mists of Avalon). And furthermore, her cast of characters is greatly expanded as well to include three generations of the people of Avalon, the Romans and Britons around them, and the invaders which threaten their homes. Bradley’s story is explicitly linked to the history of Britain through her deliberate weaving together of the historical figures and events of Roman Britain with the mythic characters of British legend (or, at least, more recent legends about Britain). Her liberal mix of fact and fiction is made even more ‘epic’ in its feel by the insertion of explicitly mythological or pre-Christian figures as actual characters in the world of the story; for instance, both the ‘Faerie Queen’ and the ‘Horned One’ appear as characters in the narrative, alongside such historical figures as Diocletian, Augustus, and Allectus. Weaving the worlds of mythology and legend together with historical fact blurs the boundaries between fact and fiction, and between history and legend. And this is clearly part of Bradley’s agenda. By legitimating the mythological elements through their association with the historical facts, Bradley attempts to turn all the pieces of her story into ‘history.’ The breadth of the novel is perhaps its chief weakness; it feels far too ambitious and loses the careful brilliancy of the earlier novels, especially Mists of Avalon. In that first novel, Bradley astounded her readers with the depth of her characters, the realism of their motivations and beliefs, and the power of the magic and ritual of the world of Avalon. In this new work, however, the characters are often wooden and unconvincing, regrettably undeveloped, and consistently act or speak in seemingly unmotivated ways. Unexplained shifts in the plot, accompanied by characters’ decisions and speeches which are left hanging in the story, litter all three sections. For instance, in this characteristic exchange, the young Viviane is being torn from her kind and loving foster-family, unexpectedly, by Taliesin, a man whom she no longer remembers. Her desire to stay where she is is made explicit in the story, but then: Viviane felt her face turn pale. ‘And it makes no difference if I say I do not wish to go?’ ‘The need of Avalon outweighs all our wishes,’ Taliesin said gently. ‘I am sorryViviane. She drew herself up proudly, fighting tears. ‘Then I will not blame you. When must we leave?’ (Lady of Avalon 320) The narrative at this point presumes that the ‘need of Avalon’ is sufficiently clear and impressive enough to be persuasive, even for a girl whose memories of the place and the people are dim indeed, but most readers will need more here to be persuaded of the character’s abrupt turn-around. Furthermore, the depiction of the ritual and the magic, after the first part, tends to be increasingly less satisfying. One example here should suffice as well: Viviane, the keeper of the Grail (again, anticipating events in the earlier Mists of Avalon), 3 decides to enlist the chalice’s magic in the defence of the Christians and the Marsh people on Inis Witrin, under attack by the Saxons. Without preparation, and without the approval of the Druids, she takes the Grail from its secret place, but is discovered by Taliesin before she can leave. He tries to prevent her taking it through the mist to the other isle, and finally offers the following ritual for her protection: He bowed his head. ‘It is so. Go to the well and walk three times around it, holding in your mind the place you would go, and when you have finished the third circuit, you will be there….’ (Lady of Avalon 363) For any reader familiar with the depth of the ritual and magic realised in the earlier novels, descriptions like these are disappointing indeed. In attempting to do so much in such a relatively short novel, Bradley allows her usual character development and richness of detail to become subordinated to the pressing need of advancing the broad plot. Marion Zimmer Bradley is one of the most prolific fantasy and sci-fi writers and editors publishing Arthuriana and related fiction today. Her devoted fans will undoubtedly buy, and read, this new novel whatever the reviews. But readers who truly loved Mists of Avalon will be disappointed with Lady of Avalon. jacqueline jenkins University of Calgary