Journey to Avalon: The Final Discovery of King Arthur

I found a copy of Arthur and the Charters of the King by T. Blackett and Alan Wilson several years ago in a bookshop in Glastonbury. Hidden underneath the eccentricities was some solid evidence of the origin of Arthur. I was pleased several years ago when Journey to Avalon was published, but dismayed that it, like Charters, was too focused on the Welsh aspects. It pursued the links established in Charters. With the number of connections the authors were able to form for the various characters under their different names, it was incredible that they missed important well defined Roman and continental characters. This caused me to put it aside.I recently reread Journey and all of the alternate theories mentioned in the appendix, plus a few more. With all of it fairly fresh in my mind, I have to say, that in spite of its flaws, Journey offers far more compelling evidence than any of the alternate theories. If you ignore the world outside of the Wales and Armorica, it provides a very coherent view of Arthur's domain in the late 5th and early 6th centuries. Contrary to other opinions, I think chapters 2 and 3 may be the most plausible conjecture of Arthur's background in existence. This conjecture is done at the expense of the more established Arthurian sites, like Glastonbury and Tintagel. I suggest that anyone interested in discovering the real Arthur read this book. I also hope that someone with more knowledge of the collapsing Roman Empire, picks up this theme and provides a more scholarly exposition of the facts.

Barber and Pykitt have a new guess as to who the historical Arthur was. Well, actually, it's not a new guess. For a long time, it was assumed that Athrwys ap Meurig *was* Arthur, but that idea fell out of favor due to dating problems. Here, Barber and Pykitt resurrect the Athrwys theory, explaining the confusion that led to some historians' belief that Athrwys lived a century too late. They add in a new revelation: according to this book, Arthur was also St Armel, whom the Bretons revere just as much as they do Arthur, not realizing they're the same guy! (This isn't a spoiler. These assertions are made in the first chapter; the rest of the book is devoted to proof and to investigating other pieces of the legend, like the location of Avalon, and the identity of some of the Knights of Camelot.) It's a fascinating theory; unfortunately, the writing runs a little dry at times, becoming an interminable list of "begats". This kind of tangible proof is necessary when setting forth theories, I know. It's just that it doesn't always make for easy reading. This is a scholarly book more than it is an entertaining one; read it when you're in a "brainy mood."In the end, Barber and Pykitt may be right about the original personage of Arthur. However, the legendary Arthur is a composite figure and can't be reduced to one historical man; he is an amalgam of several historical kings and a couple of pagan Welsh gods. The fact that some of the major events of "Arthur's" life are explained here as historical events does nothing to diminish the legendary king's mystique.

Barber & Pykitt put forth an excellent argument (as well as excellent refutations of the others) that "Arthur" did exist as a leader from the ancient Welsh territory of Gwent (between Glamorgan and the Severn Sea).They really have done their research, and have limited their scope to a discussion of finding Arthur, not a detailed account of post-Roman Britain.This book is FUN. I wouldn't recommend skipping any of its pages. I like the many twists on old ideas, and the surprising new conclusions of this book. For example, the Bedwin Sands in the middle of the Severn exist today, and are remembered in the Dream of Rhonabwy from the Mabinogion collection of old Welsh tales. Wonderful! Who else (lately) ever mentioned locals gathering cupfuls of teeth from Baddington Hill in Bath, the sight of Arthur's greatest triumph over the Hwicce (Gewissei), his twelfth battle as listed in Nennius? Brilliant. The little pearls all seem to fit.Perhaps the theory is completely false, but it offers a more realistic start to the problem than anything advanced to date. Geoffrey Ashe has certainly done a lot to bring Arthur to the masses in our time, but the theory of Riothamus is not to be trusted for the reasons set forth in this little gem.We're all so used to looking at the world from the perspective of the modern map, forgetting that the Britons and Romano-British were trapped in a narrow corridor between the Anglo-Saxons, Jutes and their allies to the south and east, and the Irish Sea (Scotti) to the west. The safe travel was from north to south, from Dumbarton to Snowdon to St. David's to Cornwall to Brittany (now France). All that is vertical, and in close proximity.And finally, someone who makes the Welsh a bit easier for we mortals to understand.Shouldn't we all be going to Caerwent and Bath to DIG?I loved this book. Bring on the next improvement!

This is a book that generates strong mixed emotions. On the one hand, the authors display an extensive and detailed knowledge of early Welsh lore; on the other hand, they seem to draw upon little else in their effort to reconstruct the history of of Fifth and Sixth Century Britain. In particular, they seem to have little understanding of the institutions of the late Roman period (which influenced those of the succeeding period) and they disregard most of what we know about contemporary events on the Continent (which sometimes directly impacted post-Roman Britain and which often provide useful models for studying the transition from Roman imperial rule to local independence). Thus, the authors do not recognize Emperor Constantine III and his son (the Caesar Constans) when they appear in legendary guise; they do not realize that the "Republic of the Silures" ("res publica Silurum" in Latin) was not a special political arrangement, but a normal reference to a Civitas (local governmental unit) in Britain; they confuse Saint Germanus of Gaul with his Manx namesake; and, they posit unlikely interactions among the various realms and personalities of post-Roman Britain.The authors¹ identification of Arthur with Arthwys ap Meurig (Artvisius? son of Mauricius), a king of Gwent and Glamorgan in Seventh Century Wales, is questionable, because of the small realm and late date of this monarch. Such an identification is inconsistent with the island-wide reputation and the enormous impact of the historical Arthur, who won the epoch-defining Battle of Badon Hill around A.D. 493. It is not implausible, however, that incidents from the life of the similar-named king did influence the growth of the Arthurian legend.The book (or at least most of it) is nonetheless well worth reading. It delves very deeply into Welsh lore that is often ignored or disregarded, and it provides a number of interesting insights into the development of early Wales. I recommend buying the book, but skipping or skimming over pages 13 through 54 (where the authors¹ shortcomings are most manifest). The remaining 300 or so pages of the book provide a fascinating look into the dim world of long-age Britain.