The Hollow Hills
Mary Stewart
Published in 1973. I read an e-version downloaded from the Internet. No publisher's name is given and I suspect it is a pirated version.
The second part of the Arthurian saga. Traces the story from Arthur's birth to his accession to the throne of Britain, after the magic of the sword in the stone. Stewart writes as well as she did in the first book, but there is a sense of her stretching the story out, and the book is less eventful than 'The Crystal Cave'. This book goes over much of the same time period of the saga as T. H. White deals with in 'The Once and Future King'. And, on balance, I prefer his version. Stewart writes lyrically and her stories are full of magic. The characters, especially the chief ones, are made very likeable, though sometimes a bit larger-than-life. However her books lack the humour of T.H. White. And disappointingly, she treats the climactic 'sword in the stone' episode differently both from the legend (as she herself relates in the epilogue) and from the way it is treated by White. In both the later, Arthur unconsciously pulls the sword out from the stone, and does not realize until he is told by Hector and Kay and all other nobles, that he has just made himself King of England. This lends a very nice unselfconsciousness to the character of Arthur. In Stewart's telling, he is already crowned King, and the sword episode only serves to firmly establish his claim to the throne. I suppose this resulted from Stewart's, in my opinion unnecessary, efforts to rationalize the legend. Of course she is not able to do so entirely, and Merlin has to work his magic on several crucial occasions. Also Stewart is not just rewriting the chief legend, but sometimes re-interpreting it, and in the process weaving together several historical, half-historical, mystical and fictional 'facts' to make up the story. In summary, very nice.
Some examples of her lyricism:
--- A hundred years since they had put it here, those men who had made their way back from Rome. It shone in my hands, as bright and dangerous and beautiful as on the day it had been made. It was no wonder, I thought, that already in that hundred years it had become a thing of legend. It was easy to believe that the old smith, Weland himself, who was old before the Romans came, might have made this last artifact before he faded with the other small gods of wood and stream and river, into the misty hills, leaving the crowded valleys to the bright gods of the Middle Sea. I could feel the power from the sword running into my palms, as if I held them in water where lightning struck. Whoso takes this sword from under this stone is rightwise King born of all Britain...The words were clear as if spoken, bright as if carved on the metal. I, Merlin, only son of Ambrosius the King, had taken the sword from the stone. I, who had never given an order in battle, nor led so much as a troop; who could not handle a war stallion, but rode a gelding or a quiet mare. I, who had never even lain with a woman. I, who was no man, but only eyes and a voice. A spirit, I had said once, a word. No more.
--- "I was seeing a settled and shining land, with corn growing rich in the valleys, and farmers working their fields in peace as they did in the time of the Romans. I was seeing a sword growing idle and discontented, and the days of peace stretching into bickering and division, and the need of a quest for the idle swords and the unfed spirits. Perhaps it was for this that the god took the grail and the spear back from me and hid them in the ground, so that one day you might set out to find the rest of Macsen's treasure. No, not you, but Bedwyr... It is his spirit, not yours, which will hunger and thirst, and slake itself in the wrong fountains."
--- I smiled at her. "Do you think you can frighten me? I see further than you, I believe. I am nothing, yes; I am air and darkness, a word, a promise. I watch in the crystal and I wait in the hollow hills. But out there in the light I have a young king and a bright sword to do my work for me, and build what will stand when my name is only a word for forgotten songs and outworn wisdom, and when your name, Morgause, is only a hissing in the dark."
Some examples of her lyricism:
--- A hundred years since they had put it here, those men who had made their way back from Rome. It shone in my hands, as bright and dangerous and beautiful as on the day it had been made. It was no wonder, I thought, that already in that hundred years it had become a thing of legend. It was easy to believe that the old smith, Weland himself, who was old before the Romans came, might have made this last artifact before he faded with the other small gods of wood and stream and river, into the misty hills, leaving the crowded valleys to the bright gods of the Middle Sea. I could feel the power from the sword running into my palms, as if I held them in water where lightning struck. Whoso takes this sword from under this stone is rightwise King born of all Britain...The words were clear as if spoken, bright as if carved on the metal. I, Merlin, only son of Ambrosius the King, had taken the sword from the stone. I, who had never given an order in battle, nor led so much as a troop; who could not handle a war stallion, but rode a gelding or a quiet mare. I, who had never even lain with a woman. I, who was no man, but only eyes and a voice. A spirit, I had said once, a word. No more.
--- "I was seeing a settled and shining land, with corn growing rich in the valleys, and farmers working their fields in peace as they did in the time of the Romans. I was seeing a sword growing idle and discontented, and the days of peace stretching into bickering and division, and the need of a quest for the idle swords and the unfed spirits. Perhaps it was for this that the god took the grail and the spear back from me and hid them in the ground, so that one day you might set out to find the rest of Macsen's treasure. No, not you, but Bedwyr... It is his spirit, not yours, which will hunger and thirst, and slake itself in the wrong fountains."
--- I smiled at her. "Do you think you can frighten me? I see further than you, I believe. I am nothing, yes; I am air and darkness, a word, a promise. I watch in the crystal and I wait in the hollow hills. But out there in the light I have a young king and a bright sword to do my work for me, and build what will stand when my name is only a word for forgotten songs and outworn wisdom, and when your name, Morgause, is only a hissing in the dark."
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