Magic into Myth: Avalon, Mystical Isle of Medieval Arthurian Literature

Ancient Origins

The Isle of Apples, Isle of the Blessed, and the Otherworld. These titles have long been associated with the magical resting place of the early medieval king, Arthur Pendragon. A realm imbued with magic, mystery and mysticism, Avalon is as much a metaphor as a true metaphysical realm.

 Its existence and the essence of Avalon had therefore varied from author to author. What was Avalon's role in medieval literature, then? Was it magical or metaphorical? Was it both? Was it entirely unrelated to Arthur? Well, the last question is evidently answered with a resounding "NO"; but is there a question about Avalon that can be answered with a resounding "yes"? This work will examine the ways in which Avalon was depicted in medieval literature, how it was altered over time, and some of the literary and historical implications of the site's supposed mysticism.

An artist’s interpretation of Avalon. (Iribel/Deviant Art)

Avalon is Discussed More than Visited
Avalon has long been a staple of the literature of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. From it stems the majority of the magic that encompasses fairy-tale-esque retellings, and the pagan roots of the British world prior to the rise of Christianity under King Arthur’s reign.

In Avalon, the dreaded Morgan le Fay was taught the magic of the ancients, eventually using this magic to bring about the fall of King Arthur and his royal court. The precise name of the enchantress, and her role in Arthur’s story varies between retellings, but the roots of the dark sorceress who influences the court remains the relatively the same. Similarly, magic vs. sword and pagan vs. Christian have been used interchangeably as metaphors.

Morgan le Fay learned ancient magic on Avalon. (Manzanedo/Deviant Art)

Within medieval literature, Avalon appears to be discussed about more than it is seen. It is best remembered as Arthur’s eternal resting place. Literature discusses Avalon as the place from which magic stems, as a realm behind the veil of mists that encompasses the titular lake of the Lady of the Lake.

From Avalon, passed on by the Lady, comes the infamous sword Excalibur, and the intention behind its mystical/pagan origins is not only that it signifies Arthur as the “once and future king”, but also that Arthur has innately been tied to the world of Avalon. The Lady of the Lake, often portrayed as Lancelot’s mother and occasionally Merlin’s lover, has long alternated between being independent of Morgan le Fay and part of her. That is, the roles of the two are as often intertwined—one could even argue they are confused—as not.

Illustration by H.J. Ford for Andrew Lang's Tales of Romance, 1919. "Arthur meets the Lady of the Lake and gets the Sword Excalibur." (Public Domain)

Intertwining Arthur and Avalon
The primary medieval source of the myth of King Arthur comes from Geoffrey of Monmouth, 10th-11th century AD. Geoffrey’s Historia Regum Britanniae appears to have been utilized throughout the medieval period as an initial source for Arthurian legends. Portraying Arthur and his story in a historical fashion, Geoffrey’s history indicates that there likely was a historical Arthur, the details of which have always been scarce.

As such, the tales of Arthur and his knights have varied throughout the centuries, dependent upon the cultural perceptions and perspectives of the era. For example, the French writer Chrétien de Troyes (c. 12th century) emphasizes the more romantic aspects of being a knight under Arthur, and it is from Chrétien and his contemporaries that “courtly love” stems. 15th century Thomas Malory’s rendition Le Morte’ de Arthur provides a more comprehensive overview of Arthur and the Round Table, building upon Geoffrey's and Chrétien’s stories (among others).

Voyage of King Arthur and Morgan Le Fay to the Isle of Avalon, Frank William Warwick Topham (1838-1924). ( Public Domain )

It is widely believed that Geoffrey first mentioned Avalon as a mythical Otherworld, as well as Morgan le Fay as the island’s leader:

Geoffrey also says that Avalon is where Arthur’s sword, Caliburn [an earlier name of Excalibur], was forged, while the Vita Merlini provides another name for the same locations, the Insula Pomorum or Isle of Apples. The Avalon of the Vita is a utopian place where agriculture is self-sustaining and human life is longer, and is inhabited by nine sisters who are enchantresses (Morgan le Fay is the first of these nine).

Rushton, 215.

The taking of Excalibur by John Duncan. (Public Domain)

As Rushton states, Geoffrey of Monmouth called the leader of Avalon Morgan le Fay, and in this role she was often depicted as a powerful enchantress with the interests of Arthur and the survival of paganism in mind. (However when Morgan le Fay is blended with Arthur’s half-sister and the mother of his son, Mordred, her intentions are destructive). She has also been called Vivian or Morgaine, Arthur’s half-sister, and, in some instances—as mentioned above—she is occasionally blended with the character of the Lady of the Lake. (Thus, the reasons for her alternating allegiances in the legends.)

It is not Geoffrey, however, but Gerald of Wales who initially indicates that Avalon was the resting place of Arthur’s death. Writing in the 12-13th centuries, Gerald follows Geoffrey’s general depiction of Avalon, yet he asserts that Arthur dies before his body is taken to Avalon. Geoffrey, on the other hand, appears to imply that Arthur continued his life in Avalon after the fall of his kingdom.

While Gerald is not alone in his perception of the myth—as indicated by later writers of the myth such as 19th century Alfred Tennyson—Geoffrey’s viewpoint was more readily accepted in the medieval period and was subsequently borrowed by 13th century author William of Rennes, who “provides an idyllic description of Avalon, and the further detail that Arthur and a “royal maiden” who heals him and live together as a couple.”

‘The Last Sleep of Arthur in Avalon’ (1881-1898) by Edward Burne-Jones. (Public Domain)

The Debate on Avalon’s Existence
Avalon as a historical place has long been under debate as well. The elusiveness of the understanding of the location in British literature has made it nearly impossible to discern whether there truly was an Avalon or if Geoffrey created it with influences from the native Celtic religion. If Avalon did exist, it is usually attributed to Glastonbury in England, in part due to an island that disappeared sometime before or during the 12th century.

It also fits descriptions of the mythical isle, although—again—it is possible the island was imagined in the image of Glastonbury Tor without the Tor actually being the site. The debate of Avalon’s existence only grew when a pair of rich graves was discovered in Glastonbury near the mythologically-infused Tor, believed to be those of Arthur and his Christian wife Guinevere.

Glastonbury Tor has been linked to Avalon. (R Potticary/ CC BY SA 3.0 )

All in all, it cannot be doubted that Avalon played a powerful role in the expanse of literature surrounding King Arthur and his knights. The time period Arthur likely "lived" might remain hazy (though scholars lean toward the early medieval period of 500-900 AD), but that did not squelch attempts to understand and spread Arthur's historical and mystical tale during the medieval period. That exploration continues to this day, with no particular end in sight.

Yet it appears that the primary purpose Avalon served in medieval literature is to provide divine origins for Arthur's kingship and to connect the worlds of mortals and magic, Christian and pagan, during a tense period of transition.

The stories of Avalon maintain common themes—love, betrayal, and religious dissonance, to put it simply—and all have the same resolution: Arthur spends the last of his days in Avalon, and the pagan world preceding his reign has mostly passed. Therefore, Avalon's lengthy association with magic and old-world religion during the medieval period remains a sensible, though likely metaphorical, assertion.

Artist’s representation of Avalon. (AlexandraVBach/Deviant Art)

Top Image: ‘Avalon finalised.’ Source: cheery-macaroon/Deviant Art

By Riley Winters

A brief history of medieval magic

History Extra

From Narnia to Harry Potter, so many modern manifestations of magic come from the Middle Ages. Hetta Howes, who is writing a PhD at Queen Mary, University of London, investigates…

Want to get rid of an unwanted husband? Coat yourself in honey, roll naked in grain and cook him up some deadly bread with flour milled from this mixture. Want to increase the amount of supplies in your barn? Leave out child-sized shoes and bows-and-arrows for the satyrs and goblins to play with. If you’re lucky, they might steal some of your neighbour’s goods for you in return. These unusual charms and medical tips, which featured in medieval books, sound suspiciously like magic.

But alongside these weird and wonderful spells and superstitions, medieval history paints a picture of a people actually more enlightened than their Renaissance successors. So what was medieval magic really like?

 Season of the witch
The now all-too-familiar figure of the ‘witch’ – that frightening old hag with warts on her nose and curses at her fingertips – didn’t appear until the 15th century. Despite being dubbed ‘The Renaissance’ and ‘The Age of Discovery’, the centuries that followed [the Renaissance lasted from the 14th to the 17th century] were witness not only to ruthless witch-hunts, but also to a new belief in the reality of magic.

In the Middle Ages, the practice of magic was not yet imagined to be essentially ‘female’. In fact, according to court records from the first half of the 14th century, the majority of those tried for maleficium (meaning sorcery, or dark magic) were men. That was because the most troubling form of magic – necromancy – required not only skill, learning and preparation, but above all education, which was less readily available to women. Necromancy involved conjuring the dead and making them perform feats of transportation or illusion, or asking them to reveal the secrets of the universe. Because many books describing necromancy were Latin translations, anyone wanting to practise the craft would need a good working knowledge of Latin.

It wasn’t until the publication of Heinrich Kramer’s Malleus Maleficarum (or, Hammer of Witches) in 1487 that the specific connection between women and satanic magic became widespread. Kramer warned that “women’s spiritual weakness” and “natural proclivity for evil” made them particularly susceptible to the temptations of the devil. He believed that “all witchcraft comes from carnal lust”, and that women’s “uncontrolled” sexuality made them the likely culprits of any sinister occurrence.

Black sabbath
Hand-in-hand with this increased emphasis on women came a shift in the perception of magic. Evidence suggests that medieval church authorities (whose successors would later spearhead the witch-hunts) didn’t really believe magic was real – although they still condemned anyone who claimed to practise it.

The 10th-century canon, Episcopi, describes women who, seduced by illusions from the devil, believed they could fly on the backs of “certain beasts” in the middle of the night alongside the goddess Diana. The canon dismissed these women as “stupid” and “foolish” for actually believing that they could accomplish such things. They were criticised in the text for being tricked rather than for practising any real, magical mischief.

In the 15th and 16th centuries, however, inquisitors seemed to believe that women really could make magic happen by entering into pacts with the devil. It was thought that at sabbaths – nocturnal meetings with other witches – women renounced their Christian faith, devoured babies, participated in orgies and committed other carnal and unspeakable acts.

Execution of three witches by hanging, woodcut, 1589. (© INTERFOTO/Alamy)

Afterwards, the devils worshipped would watch their women for signs, and then do their bidding. For example, if a witch put her broomstick in water and spoke certain words, a devil might cause a storm or flood. Magic of this kind wasn’t always harmful, however. Witches might be able to heal as a result of a pact, or perform other kinds of positive magic. But, because of their fundamental belief that all magic was carried out by demons and devils, inquisitors condemned it just the same.

Magic or medicine?
Certain practices – which sound to us very much like magic – would have been classed as science or medicine in the Middle Ages. William of Auvergne, a 13th-century French priest and bishop, certainly condemned most magic as superstition. However, he admitted that some works of “natural magic” should be viewed as a branch of science: as long as practitioners didn’t use this “natural magic” for evil, they weren’t doing anything criminal. Sealskin could quite happily be used as a charm to repel lightning; vulture body parts could be used as a protective amulet; and gardeners could get virgins to plant their olive trees without any anxiety – this was, after all, a scientific way of promoting their growth.

A number of healing practices from the Middle Ages also sound very much like magic to a modern reader: one doctor instructed physicians to place the herb vervain in their patient’s hand. The presence of the herb would, it was thought, cause the patient to speak his or her fate truthfully, offering the physician an accurate prognosis.

Sympathetic magic was another well-known technique – it used imitation to produce effective results. For example, liver of vulture might be prescribed as medicine for a patient suffering from liver complaints. Meanwhile narrative charms – a complex version of sympathetic magic, hinged on the belief that telling a particular story could help channel healing power to the patient – were usually accompanied by a more ‘medical’ application, like a poultice. According to one medical treatise, wool soaked in olive oil from the Mount of Olives could staunch blood when coupled with a spoken story about Longinus, a man who was famously healed of his blindness by the blood of Christ. Religious elements were blended with the magical.

Details of the properties of verbena or vervain, from a 16th-century book about herbs. When placed in a patient's hand the presence of the herb would, it was thought, cause them to speak his or her fate truthfully, offering the physician an accurate prognosis. (© The Art Archive/Alamy)

Although some of these methods were considered superstition by the Christian church in the Middle Ages, they were never associated with demonic magic until the dawning of the witch hunts. Even though women tried for witchcraft were accused of much more diabolical doings than using charms or stories to heal, many women became afraid of carrying out such practices, for fear of attracting suspicion of darker deeds.

Medieval history offers us a magical potion of stories and practices infused with charms, herbs and superstition. While some of the examples might seem curious to us, they are evidence of a people trying to make sense of and control their surroundings – just as we do today.

Hetta Howes is writing a PhD at Queen Mary, University of London on the subject of water and religious imagery in medieval devotional texts by and for women.

Say the Magic Word: The Origins of Abracadabra and Other Magical Mutterings

Ancient Origins

Magic words are often used by magicians whilst performing magic tricks on stage. One of the most common of these incantations is ‘Abracadabra’. Although this word is known to many, it is likely that fewer people are aware of its origins. Apart from ‘Abracadabra’ there are several other magic words that are popularly used by stage magicians. Like ‘Abracadabra’, however, the origins of these words are also a mystery to most people.

Religious Roots
Whilst ‘Abracadabra’ is commonly used by stage magicians today for the entertainment of the masses, this word is said to have its origins in the ancient Roman world. Back then, this word was not used for performances, but was believed to contain potent magical power within it. According to one theory, the word ‘Abracadabra’ is derived from the Hebrew words ‘ab, ben, ruach hakodesh’, which translates as ‘Father, Son and Holy Spirit’. Thus, the word ‘Abracadabra’ is in fact an invocation of the Holy Trinity. According to another theory, this magic word is derived from another magic word known as ‘abraxas’. This word is special, as its letters, in Greek numerology, adds up to 365, i.e. the number of days in a year.

Oil sketch for Hone's satirical painting The Pictorial Conjuror, 1775 (Public Domain)

Yet another theory for the origins of the word ‘Abracadabra’ is the Aramaic phrase ‘Avra kadavra’. Fans of the Harry Potter series, would perhaps be familiar with this phrase, as a similar spell, ‘Avada kedavra’ is featured in the books. In the Harry Potter series, ‘Avada kedavra’ functions as a killing curse, and J. K. Rowling, who authored the books, is said to have drawn inspiration for this spell from the original Aramaic version of it. The original meaning of these magical words, according to Rowling, was ‘let the thing be destroyed’, and that it was used for the curing of illnesses.

The Medicinal Charm

‘Abracadabra’ written in its triangular / pyramidal form. (Public Domain)

In any case, ‘Abracadabra’ was used as a talisman over the ages. The 2nd century Roman savant, Serenus Sammonicus, for instance, provides a description in his Liber Medicinalis about the way this magic word may be used. This talisman involved the word being written on a piece of parchment repeatedly, with a letter being removed each time, until only one is left. The use of this ‘Abracadabra’ pyramid is mentioned by writers in later ages, including the 16th century Eva Rimmington Taylor, and the 18th century Daniel Defoe. Eventually, people stopped believing in the efficacy ‘Abracadabra’, and this word became used by stage magicians for performing magic tricks.

Magic words and signs on a rolled strip of paper (18th century). Upper Austrian County Museum (CC BY-SA 3.0)

Other Magic Words
Another common magic word is ‘Alakazam’. This incantation is said to have its origins in the Arabic language, and it has been pointed out that there is a similar-sounding word in that language, ‘Al Qasam’, which means oath. It has also been suggested that ‘Alakazam’ is a proper name, and that this magic spell was supposed to invoke the powers of a certain person by the name of Alakazam. ‘Hocus Pocus’ is yet another magic word that is often used by magicians. Unlike ‘Abracadabra’, the origin of this magic phrase lies in the more recent past, around the early 17th century, to be more precise. Like ‘Abracadabra’ and ‘Alakazam’, there are several theories trying to explain the origin of this phrase. One, for instance, is offered by John Tillotson, the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1694. Tillotson suggests that this is a corruption of ‘hoc est corpus’, and is a parody of the consecration during the Catholic Mass. Another suggestion is that the words sounded exotic, and this pair of words was coined simply because they rhymed.

 In addition to these traditional magic words, there are also many others that have appeared in more recent times. Some of the better-known ones include ‘Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo’, used by the Fairy Godmother in Disney’s Cinderella, ‘Shazam’, used by DC Comic’s Billy Batson to transform into the superhero Captain Marvel, and ‘A-la Peanut Butter Sandwiches’, which is uttered by the Amazing Mumford in Sesame Street.

Top image: Ancient Book (CC BY SA 3.0)

By Wu Mingren

References
Conley, C., 2008. Magic Words: A Dictionary. San Francisco, Calif.: Weiser Books.

Martin, G., 2017. Abracadabra. [Online] Available at: http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/abracadabra.html

Martin, G., 2017. Hocus-pocus. [Online] Available at: http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/hocus-pocus.html

Shnidman, R., 2013. Word of the Day Abracadabra: Be Careful What You Wish For. [Online] Available at: http://www.haaretz.com/jewish/features/word-of-the-day-abracadabra-be-careful-what-you-wish-for-1.519857

Upton, E., 2013. The Fascinating Origin of the Word “Abracadabra”. [Online] Available at: http://www.todayifoundout.com/index.php/2013/11/origin-word-abracadabra/

A brief history of medieval magic

History Extra

Want to get rid of an unwanted husband? Coat yourself in honey, roll naked in grain and cook him up some deadly bread with flour milled from this mixture. Want to increase the amount of supplies in your barn? Leave out child-sized shoes and bows-and-arrows for the satyrs and goblins to play with. If you’re lucky, they might steal some of your neighbour’s goods for you in return. These unusual charms and medical tips, which featured in medieval books, sound suspiciously like magic.
But alongside these weird and wonderful spells and superstitions, medieval history paints a picture of a people actually more enlightened than their Renaissance successors. So what was medieval magic really like?

 

Season of the witch

The now all-too-familiar figure of the ‘witch’ – that frightening old hag with warts on her nose and curses at her fingertips – didn’t appear until the 15th century. Despite being dubbed ‘The Renaissance’ and ‘The Age of Discovery’, the centuries that followed [the Renaissance lasted from the 14th to the 17th century] were witness not only to ruthless witch-hunts, but also to a new belief in the reality of magic.
In the Middle Ages, the practice of magic was not yet imagined to be essentially ‘female’. In fact, according to court records from the first half of the 14th century, the majority of those tried for maleficium (meaning sorcery, or dark magic) were men. That was because the most troubling form of magic – necromancy – required not only skill, learning and preparation, but above all education, which was less readily available to women. Necromancy involved conjuring the dead and making them perform feats of transportation or illusion, or asking them to reveal the secrets of the universe. Because many books describing necromancy were Latin translations, anyone wanting to practise the craft would need a good working knowledge of Latin.
It wasn’t until the publication of Heinrich Kramer’s Malleus Maleficarum (or, Hammer of Witches) in 1487 that the specific connection between women and satanic magic became widespread. Kramer warned that “women’s spiritual weakness” and “natural proclivity for evil” made them particularly susceptible to the temptations of the devil. He believed that “all witchcraft comes from carnal lust”, and that women’s “uncontrolled” sexuality made them the likely culprits of any sinister occurrence.

 

Black sabbath

Hand-in-hand with this increased emphasis on women came a shift in the perception of magic. Evidence suggests that medieval church authorities (whose successors would later spearhead the witch-hunts) didn’t really believe magic was real – although they still condemned anyone who claimed to practise it.
The 10th-century canon, Episcopi, describes women who, seduced by illusions from the devil, believed they could fly on the backs of “certain beasts” in the middle of the night alongside the goddess Diana. The canon dismissed these women as “stupid” and “foolish” for actually believing that they could accomplish such things. They were criticised in the text for being tricked rather than for practising any real, magical mischief.
In the 15th and 16th centuries, however, inquisitors seemed to believe that women really could make magic happen by entering into pacts with the devil. It was thought that at sabbaths – nocturnal meetings with other witches – women renounced their Christian faith, devoured babies, participated in orgies and committed other carnal and unspeakable acts.

Afterwards, the devils worshipped would watch their women for signs, and then do their bidding. For example, if a witch put her broomstick in water and spoke certain words, a devil might cause a storm or flood. Magic of this kind wasn’t always harmful, however. Witches might be able to heal as a result of a pact, or perform other kinds of positive magic. But, because of their fundamental belief that all magic was carried out by demons and devils, inquisitors condemned it just the same.

 

Magic or medicine?

Certain practices – which sound to us very much like magic – would have been classed as science or medicine in the Middle Ages. William of Auvergne, a 13th-century French priest and bishop, certainly condemned most magic as superstition. However, he admitted that some works of “natural magic” should be viewed as a branch of science: as long as practitioners didn’t use this “natural magic” for evil, they weren’t doing anything criminal. Sealskin could quite happily be used as a charm to repel lightning; vulture body parts could be used as a protective amulet; and gardeners could get virgins to plant their olive trees without any anxiety – this was, after all, a scientific way of promoting their growth.
A number of healing practices from the Middle Ages also sound very much like magic to a modern reader: one doctor instructed physicians to place the herb vervain in their patient’s hand. The presence of the herb would, it was thought, cause the patient to speak his or her fate truthfully, offering the physician an accurate prognosis.
Sympathetic magic was another well-known technique – it used imitation to produce effective results. For example, liver of vulture might be prescribed as medicine for a patient suffering from liver complaints. Meanwhile narrative charms – a complex version of sympathetic magic, hinged on the belief that telling a particular story could help channel healing power to the patient – were usually accompanied by a more ‘medical’ application, like a poultice. According to one medical treatise, wool soaked in olive oil from the Mount of Olives could staunch blood when coupled with a spoken story about Longinus, a man who was famously healed of his blindness by the blood of Christ. Religious elements were blended with the magical.

Although some of these methods were considered superstition by the Christian church in the Middle Ages, they were never associated with demonic magic until the dawning of the witch hunts. Even though women tried for witchcraft were accused of much more diabolical doings than using charms or stories to heal, many women became afraid of carrying out such practices, for fear of attracting suspicion of darker deeds.
Medieval history offers us a magical potion of stories and practices infused with charms, herbs and superstition. While some of the examples might seem curious to us, they are evidence of a people trying to make sense of and control their surroundings – just as we do today.
Hetta Howes is writing a PhD at Queen Mary, University of London on the subject of water and religious imagery in medieval devotional texts by and for women. To find out more, click here.
Would you have been accused of witchcraft in the medieval period? Take our quiz to find out!

The Phil Naessens Show: Los Angeles Lakers Fantasy Basketball Options!

http://phillipnaessens.wordpress.com/2014/02/10/the-phil-naessens-show-los-angeles-lakers-fantasy-basketball-options/

 

On this edition of the Phil Naessens Show Tom Lewis checks in to give us his weekly Indiana Pacers report including a recap of the amazing Portland/Indiana OT thriller, what if anything the Pacers need to do before the deadline and a look ahead to this weeks games with Denver and Dallas and much more. Kyle McKeown joins Phil to talk about the Maurice Cheeks firing and the Fantasy options on the Los Angeles Lakers and much more. Kevin Lipe stops in to talk Memphis Grizzlies basketball including the heartbreaking loss to Dallas, the lack of production from the small forward spot, Nick Calathes, missing Mike Conley and a look ahead to the Washington and Orlando games and much more.