Chasing Kings at Tintagel

There was a news item last night about excavations now taking place at Tintagel, the legendary birthplace of King Arthur on the Cornish coast. The ruins of a castle belonging to Richard, Earl of Cornwall, that still stand on the site are from the 13th century, too late for Arthur, who is usually placed in the sixth century or so. Archaeologists are now hard at work uncovering the walls of a palatial Dark Age structure, part of a larger complex of buildings yet to be excavated. The evidence of glass, pottery shards, and other artifacts at the site tells the story of wealthy inhabitants who must have had extensive commerce with the Mediterranean world and possibly with the Roman empire itself, which still existed in diminished form after the Romans withdrew from Britain.

The articles were fascinating and the videos and pictures equally captivating. The Cornish coast is very beautiful, and a more dramatic spot for a palace could hardly be imagined. I've always wanted to visit the West Country, and this news certainly does nothing to diminish that feeling. Although the presence of a Dark Age palace doesn't prove that Arthur lived there, the findings are provocative; no doubt many additional details will emerge as the work continues over the next five years. What an opportunity for an archaeologist--Indiana Jones has nothing on the Cornwall Archaeological Unit. It goes without saying that interest in this project, in which history intersects with British legend and myth, must be very keen.

As I looked at the photos, I naturally thought about my Grail story, which I published on this site last summer after being inspired by some readings in Arthurian children's fiction and Grail literature. Arthur's birthplace has never been synonymous with the Grail castle, but the Tintagel site, from my viewing of the photographs, is similar to what I imagined for Corbenic, even down to the detail of existing on an island. Although it is not as far out at sea as I placed my castle (my Grail knight had to ride over a causeway in a storm to reach it), the Tintagel headland, currently reached by a land bridge, will one day be connected to the mainland by a daring new structure soaring high above the old one, which should offer stunning views as well as an unforgettable approach to the site.

All of this is very exciting and has the potential to add much to the current understanding of the history and culture of the period, even if King Arthur himself remains elusive, as mythic figures often do. I was struck by the presence of a recently installed sculpture of a royal figure on the site, an eight-foot bronze by artist Rubin Eynon called Gallos (Cornish for "power"). Although it is up to the viewer to decide whether this kingly figure is Arthur or not, the sculpture itself is very commanding, though somewhat wraithlike in spite of the bronze. The face is partly hooded, and the kingly robe flows into panels that expose a somewhat slenderer figure than one would expect. The effect is startling; I don't know what the artist intended, but the figure speaks to me of the fragility of power, of the gap that lies between the role of ruler and the human dimensions of the individual who steps into the role.

I understand that many people are concerned that Cornish history be portrayed accurately at Tintagel, and I think it's good that this figure makes no claim to be Arthur but rather remains undefined and open to interpretation. That not only avoids historical inaccuracies but also provides, by virtue of anonymity, a more powerful meditation on leadership and power than it would be if tied to a particular personality. An official at the site remarked on what the experience of coming upon this figure in the mist would be like, and I agree: I'm guessing it's a bit of an unnerving experience, like coming across an archetype striding out there on the cliffs instead of a human being. It's not often that legends come to life like that, even if the name isn't Arthur.