Sleeping King & Swan Knight

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I removed my last post for many reasons. It opened me up to some dark energy that, is so complex, it can only be described in the Arthurian and Fisher King Legends of which my Rosamond=Rosemondt kindred are entwined for the reason we may be kin to the Dukes of Brabant and the Merovingians. Lohengrin, the son of Parsifal is the swan knight who reveals his lineage to his wife, and has to depart. In the story of the Fisher King there is incest, as well in Arthur’s family. Arthur does not die, but is asleep in a mound or mountain. This legend is kindred to the tale of the sleeping Beauty Princess named Rosamond.

What transpired between Bill and my mother on one had destnroyed the sleeping kingdom that was just waking from a long sleep, or, is the awakening itself. The idea there is a savior that dies to repair the rent the sins of the children of God have made, is present. I lost so much when I was betrayed, a truth my mother and Bill had to come to grips with, because I was innocent, utterly kept in the dark. But, now I am awake. Vicki and I set out on a quest to save our niece, and her important lineage I have traced to the Stewarts.

Then there are the sleeping knights of Blanik Mountain in the land of my Bohemian ancestors.

“The last of the old Czech legends, that of the Knights of Blanik, was first told to the Czech King and Holy Roman Emperor, Charles IV by a young blind man who was travelling through the realm.”

The post removed will appear be in my book.

Jon Presco

Copyright 2012

Abel to illustrate that although the King of Castle Mortal comes from the good lineage of Joseph of Arimathea, it is possible for him to become evil; however, since the Fisher King, through his suffering, did not yield to his brother’s evil, he became a spiritual model for others to follow

http://www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/Fisherking/fkessay.htm

Chris commented on The Rose Monts of Swan Castle
Godeschalck Roesmondt also appears in the so called ‘Spechtbook’ (named after administrator Nicolaus Specht) of the Duke of Brabant, administrating goods the sovereign duke gave in loan to his knights and noblemen.
These families (De Roover, Roesmondt, Van Broeckhoven, Van Vladeracken etc.) are like the Duke of Brabant probably descendants of the former Duke of Lotharingen and therefore (via the counts of Taxandria) of Charlemagne.
The mentioned Jan Willems van Dongen, is by inheritage a bannerlord of the House van Arkel, also descending from Charlemagne and at that time Lord of High and Low Zwaluwe, vicount of Schoonhoven etc. etc. This is the very elite of Brabant at that time and probably all (noble) family related.

Lohengrin first appears as “Loherangrin,” the son of Parzival and Condwiramurs in Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival.[1] Wolfram’s story is a variation of the Knight of the Swan tale, previously attached to the Crusade cycle of medieval literature. Loherangrin and his twin brother Kardeiz join their parents in Munsalväsche when Parzival becomes the Grail King; Kardeiz later inherits their father’s secular lands, and Loherangrin remains in Munsalväsche as a Grail Knight. Members of this order are sent out in secret to provide lords to kingdoms that have lost their protectors and Loherangrin is eventually called to this duty in Brabant, where the duke has died without a male heir. His daughter Elsa fears the kingdom will be lost, but Loherangrin arrives in a boat pulled by a swan and offers to defend her, though he warns her she must never ask his name. He weds the duchess and serves Brabant for years, but one day Elsa asks the forbidden question. He explains his origin and steps back onto his swan boat, never to return.

The Knight of the Swan story was previously known from the tales of the ancestry of Godfrey of Bouillon, the first ruler of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem. The story appears in the two versions of the tale Naissance du Chevalier au Cygne, which describes the Swan Knight Elias arriving to defend the dispossessed Duchess of Bouillon. They marry and have a daughter, Ida, who becomes the mother of Godfrey and his brothers. The Knight of the Swan is not the only altered version of a popular story

Many a long year afterwards there came a King’s son into that
country, and heard an old man tell how there should be a castle
standing behind the hedge of thorns, and that there a beautiful
enchanted Princess named Rosamond had slept for a hundred
years, and with her the King and Queen, and the whole court. The
old man had been told by his grandfather that many Kings’ sons
had sought to pass the thorn-hedge, but had been caught and
pierced by the thorns, and had died a miserable death. Then said
the young man, “Nevertheless, I do not fear to try; I shall win
through and see the lovely Rosamond.” The good old man tried to
dissuade him, but he would not listen to his words.
For now the hundred years were at an end, and the day had come
when Rosamond should be awakened. When the Prince drew near
the hedge of thorns, it was changed into a hedge of beautiful large
flowers, which parted and bent aside to let him pass, and then
closed behind him in a thick hedge. When he reached the castleyard,
he saw the horses and brindled hunting-dogs lying asleep,
and on the roof the pigeons were sitting with their heads under
their wings. And when he came indoors, the flies on the wall were
asleep, the cook in the kitchen had his hand uplifted to strike the
scullion, and the kitchenmaid had the black fowl on her lap ready
to pluck. Then he mounted higher, and saw in the hall the whole
court lying asleep, and above them, on their thrones, slept the King
and the Queen. And still he went farther, and all was so quiet that
he could hear his own breathing, and at last he came to the tower,
and went up the winding stair, and opened the door of the little
room where Rosamond lay.
And when he saw her looking so lovely in her sleep, he could not
turn away his eyes; and presently he stooped and kissed her, and
she awaked, and opened her eyes, and looked very kindly on him.
And she rose, and they went forth together, the King and the
Queen and whole court waked up, and gazed on each other with
great eyes of wonderment. And the horses in the yard got up and
shook themselves, the hounds sprang up and wagged their tails,
the pigeons on the roof drew their heads from under their wings,
looked round, and flew into the field, the flies on the wall crept on
a little farther, the kitchen fire leapt up and blazed, and cooked the
meat, the joint on the spit began to roast, the cook gave the scullion
such a box on the ear that he roared out, and the maid went on
plucking the fowl.
4
Then the wedding of the Prince and Rosamond was held with all
splendor, and they lived very happily together until their lives’
end.anding behind the hedge of thorns, and that there a beautiful
enchanted Princess named Rosamond had slept for a hundred
years, and with her the King and Queen, and the whole court. The
old man had been told by his grandfather that many Kings’ sons
had sought to pass the thorn-hedge, but had been caught and
pierced by the thorns, and had died a miserable death. Then said
the young man, “Nevertheless, I do not fear to try; I shall win
through and see the lovely Rosamond.” The good old man tried to
dissuade him, but he would not listen to his words.
For now the hundred years were at an end, and the day had come
when Rosamond should be awakened. When the Prince drew near
the hedge of thorns, it was changed into a hedge of beautiful large
flowers, which parted and bent aside to let him pass, and then
closed behind him in a thick hedge. When he reached the castleyard,
he saw the horses and brindled hunting-dogs lying asleep,
and on the roof the pigeons were sitting with their heads under
their wings. And when he came indoors, the flies on the wall were
asleep, the cook in the kitchen had his hand uplifted to strike the
scullion, and the kitchenmaid had the black fowl on her lap ready
to pluck. Then he mounted higher, and saw in the hall the whole
court lying asleep, and above them, on their thrones, slept the King
and the Queen. And still he went farther, and all was so quiet that
he could hear his own breathing, and at last he came to the tower,
and went up the winding stair, and opened the door of the little
room where Rosamond lay.
And when he saw her looking so lovely in her sleep, he could not
turn away his eyes; and presently he stooped and kissed her, and
she awaked, and opened her eyes, and looked very kindly on him.
And she rose, and they went forth together, the King and the
Queen and whole court waked up, and gazed on each other with
great eyes of wonderment. And the horses in the yard got up and
shook themselves, the hounds sprang up and wagged their tails,
the pigeons on the roof drew their heads from under their wings,
looked round, and flew into the field, the flies on the wall crept on
a little farther, the kitchen fire leapt up and blazed, and cooked the
meat, the joint on the spit began to roast, the cook gave the scullion
such a box on the ear that he roared out, and the maid went on
plucking the fowl.
4
Then the wedding of the Prince and Rosamond was held with all
splendor, and they lived very happily together until their lives’
end.

According to some Arthurian folklore, Arthur and Merlin are not dead, but sleeping in the blessed isles or in the hollow hills, images that are symbolic representations of the UnderWorld of the Celts.

King Arthur at Sewingshields
England
Sewingshields lies between the Roman Wall and the military road, near the twenty-eighth milestone from Newcastle, and at the western extremity of Warden Parish. Of Sewingshields Castle, Mr. Hodgson informs us that in his time a square, low, lumpy mass of ruins, overgrown with nettles, still remained. “Its site is on the end of a dry ridge and overlooked from the south by the basaltic cliffs, along the brow of which the Roman Wall was built. There are also some traces of trenches near it.” [Hodgson’s History of Northumberland, part ii, vol. iii. (Note in original)] This is the castle referred to by Sir Walter Scott in the sixth canto of Harold the Dauntless as the “castle of the seven shields.” In reference to its present condition Dr. Bruce remarks:
… No towers are seen
On the wild heath, but those that Fancy builds.
And save a fosse that tracks the moor with green,
Is nought remains to tell of what may there have been.
[Wallet-Book of the Roman Wall, p. 109. (Note in original. This book is Denham’s source of the legend that follows.)]
It stood in the center of the only patch of ground in “the moss,” which is now subjected to the plow. The walls have been uprooted and the vaults removed, but the following tradition relating to it will not readily perish:
Immemorial tradition has asserted that King Arthur, his queen Guinevere, his court of lords and ladies, and his hounds, were enchanted in some cave of the crags, or in a hall below the Castle of Sewingshields, and would continue entranced there till someone should first blow a bugle-horn that lay on a table near the entrance of the hall, and then, with “the sword of the stone,” cut a garter also placed there beside it. But none had ever heard where the entrance to this enchanted hall was till the farmer at Sewingshields, about fifty years since, was sitting knitting on the ruins of the castle and his clew fell and ran downwards through a rush of briars and nettles, as he supposed, into a deep subterranean passage.
Full in the faith that the entrance into King Arthur’s hall was now discovered, he cleared the briary portal of its weeds and rubbish, and, entering a vaulted passage, followed, in his darkling way, the thread of his clew. The floor was infested with toads and lizards; and the dark wings of bats, disturbed by his unhallowed intrusion, flitted fearfully around him. At length his sinking courage was strengthened by a dim, distant light, which as he advanced grew gradually brighter, till at once he entered a vast and vaulted hall, in the center of which a fire without fuel, from a broad crevice in the floor, blazed with a high and lambent flame that showed all the carved walls and fretted roof, and the monarch and his queen and court reposing around in a theater of thrones and costly couches.
On the floor, beyond the fire, lay the faithful and deep-toned pack of thirty couple of hounds; and on a table before it the spell-dispelling horn, sword and garter. The shepherd reverently but firmly grasped the sword, and as he drew it leisurely from its rusty scabbard the eyes of the monarch, and his courtiers began to open, and they rose till they sat upright. He cut the garter; and as the sword was being slowly sheathed the spell assumed its ancient power, and they all gradually sank to rest; but not before the monarch had lifted up his eyes and hands and exclaimed:
O woe betide that evil day
On which the witless wight was born,
Who drew the sword — the garter cut,
But never blew the bugle-horn.
Of this favorite tradition the most remarkable variation is respecting the place where the farmer descended. Some say that after the king’s denunciation, terror brought on a loss of memory, and he was unable to give any correct account of his adventure or the place where it occurred. But all agree that Mrs. Spearman, the wife of another and more recent occupier of the estate, had a dream in which she saw a rich hoard of treasure among the ruins of the castle, and that for many days together she stood over workmen employed in searching for it, but without success.

The Knights of Blanik Mountain

The last of the old Czech legends, that of the Knights of Blanik, was first told to the Czech King and Holy Roman Emperor, Charles IV by a young blind man who was travelling through the realm.

Neither he nor anybody else has been able to explain where the Knights of Blanik originally came from. However, stories of similar hibernating knights from places as far apart as France, the Czech Republic and the Arab world have led some experts to believe that all of these slumbering warriors were originally members of armies of holy crusaders who travelled to Palestine in the early part of the second millennium and somehow, while there, came to be bewitched to this – their current fate.

These points, however, were not addressed by the blind youth. He just described their current condition, which is this:

Beneath Mount Blanik, at the place where the natural spring waters bubble up from the earth, there is an opening in the rock face which looks just like a Gothic portal. This is the entrance to a massive underground cavern, consisting of a large chamber – also Gothic in style, like the great hall of a castle with heavy, arched ceilings and thick pillars. The columns are hung about with all manner of medieval weaponry, and hundreds of horses stand along one wall of the hall. Eerily, not one horsey tail in the bunch switches to discourage the absent flies, nary a whinny is heard from any of the many pairs of horsey lips, and no hooves stomp the stony ground, impatient to be off on a run. All of the horses stand stock-still in enchanted sleep.

The main part of the chamber is filled with stone tables, around which stone chairs are arranged. In these stone chairs around these stone tables slumber the owners of the horses, the Knights of Blanik, slowly nod away the centuries, waiting for the day they will be summoned into action. This is the sleeping army of St Wenceslas, and their day will come when things in the Czech lands are at their very worst – when the nation is beset by enemies too numerous to count.

According to the report the blind youth gave the emperor, the Czechs will be outnumbered and facing some pretty tough odds in general. In all, the country will be in the worst straits it ever has been (or ever will be). Only then will St Wenceslas rise from the dead and, stopping along the way to pick up Bruncvik’s sword, he will come to Mount Blanik to awaken and to summon forth his warriors.

There are a few signs by which we shall know when this hour nears, according to the far-seeing blind man. First, the tops of the trees in Blanik forest will dry up. Next, a dry old beech tree at Pusty fish pond will sprout back to life. Finally, the rock face at the entrance to the underground chamber at Mount Blanik will break in two.

The battle around Blanik will rage so thick that Pusty pond will turn red with the blood of the soldiers fallen in battle. Only after many tears are shed and many acts of courage are entered into by soldiers of both armies will St Wenceslas arrive to save the day. He will do so astride his white steed, wielding the sword of Bruncvik and leading the Knights of Blanik. The enemy will turn tail in fear, attempting an escape to Prague – to which place the newly-awakened Czech warriors will give their enemy chase, then engage and defeat them in glorious battle, despatching the enemies of the Czech lands with such verve that the blood of the stricken armies will reportedly run in streams fromStrahov hill to the very stones of the Charles Bridge itself

When it is all over, the blind man said, the Czech people will experience their last Golden Age – finally living together in total peace and harmony, never again to bicker among themselves or disagree about a single thing — let alone everything under the sun, as they do now — for the Czechs will be unified in every way,

Well, we’ll have to wait until the big day arrives to see about that. In the meanwhile, there are still a few more things to tell about those wacky Knights of Blanik.

Once a month, by the light of the moon, the troops and their horses come out of the mountain for exercise. They make such a terrible racket that it’s heard for miles around – and by the light of the next day, you can see the hoofprints in the fields and meadows around the mountain. But despite that it must be a marvellous spectacle, none of the locals ever go to see these nighttime maneuvers, for they know how dangerous contact with the Knights can be.

Guerin, M. Victoria. The Fall of Kings and Princes: Structure and Destruction in Arthurian Tragedy. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1995. Pp. xvi, 336. $39.5042695. ISBN: ISBN 0-8047-2290-0.
Reviewed by:
Deborah Margaret Sabadash, University of Toronto
dsabadas@norman.carswell.com
The corpus of Arthurian literature is a large, varied, and often unwieldy one. Working in a long and meandering tradition, writers of Arthurian romance have struggled to give new voices to old stories. Guerin’s study focuses on four Arthurian romances: the anonymous Prose Vulgate Cycle, Chretien de Troye’s Chevalier de la Charette and Le Conte du Graal, and the anonymous Middle English Gawain and the Green Knight. Throughout Guerin addresses the issues of intertexuality and interconnectedness, of the ways in which these stories interweave and speak to each other, and the ways in which an audience intimately familiar with the tradition perceives the texture of the whole.
As Guerin points out, the Arthurian tradition presents an ideal vehicle for tragedy. Extending beyond the rather straightforward Boethian paradigm (which charts the rise and fall of a great man), Arthurian tragedy embraces Aristotelian elements. The Fall occurs not as a result of the whims of Fortune or the destinies determined by Divine Providence, but as a direct result of human failings and moral weaknesses. In the end, Arthur is betrayed by his own blood, and the glories of his chivalric rule come to an end by way of human greed, sexual transgression, and internal strife. Already in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia, the failure to respect blood ties and marital bonds leads to civil war. The destruction of Arthur’s perfect realm is thus seen as a punishment for offense against both natural and divine law. Guerin explores these themes over several key stories in the Arthurian corpus. Guerin is particularly interested in the underlying themes of incest, sexual licence, and adultery, and finds as the pivot point of all these stories the figure of the king betrayed by the fruit of his own incest.
Chapter 1 addresses this incest theme in the Prose Vulgate Cycle. It is sexual transgression which results in the sterility of the terre gaste, the wasteland of the Fisher King. Guerin traces the role of fole amour and the cycle of reckless love which leads eventually to the destruction of the Arthurian world. Lancelot’s sinful love of Guenevere — a violation of his bond of honour and duty to Arthur — and the downfall of the Arthurian world represents in microcosm the dissolution of ties, both official and personal, which link men in a feudal society. This theme, however, is one already heavily discussed in scholarly literature, as is the juxtaposition of the earthly and heavenly chivalry, and the contrast of sinful and chaste love; Guerin does not seem to have much to add here other than making the argument for the intertextual links. Also not much is made of the vast difference in authorial intent (if we dare even mention such a taboo term); if the Vulgate Cycle is indeed an artifact of monastic (Cistercian) rather than secular production, then its treatment of the Arthurian material should out of necessity follow a rather different agenda from that outlined in secular romance.
Chapter 2 deals with Chretien’s Chevalier de la Charette. Lancelot’s idolatrous worship of the queen and his disregard for the bonds of duty to his liege lord are what ultimately tear apart Arthur’s kingdom. Lancelot sacrifices public honour in order to win favour in the private sphere of love. The famous cart thus represents simultaneously public shame and private glory, and it is this tension between love and honour in the private and public worlds which propels the romance.
Chretien’s Conte du Graal is the subject of Chapter 3. Guerin rightly points out that the two tales, the Chevalier de la Charette and the Conte du Graal are meant to be read together as companion pieces offering commentary on the Arthurian tradition: the first presents the sin of Arthur’s world, while the other illustrates its consequences. The motif of sexual mutilation resurfaces here and provides for Guerin the link with the Mordred tradition. Guerin identifies the Fisher King with Arthur, whose realm is destroyed as the result of sexual transgression and incest, and interprets the Fisher King’s sexual wound as a symbolic representation of Mordred’s usurpation of the throne.
Chapter 4 explores the incest theme in the Middle English Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Here Guerin views the structural doubling of Morgan le Fay (Gawain’s aunt) and Bertilak s Lady as two images of the same figure. This uncovers for Guerin the true intent of the temptation plot — the incest theme once again.

The Fisher King: Healing the Feminine and the Masculine 06/22/2012
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In many versions of the myth of the Holy Grail and the Fisher King, the Fisher King is wounded in his thigh, which is usually a metaphor for the genitals. The wounded Fisher King is only healed when his feminine counterpart is found and they are reunited. When this happens and they are reunited, the community is blessed with joy and abundance.

The separated partners are healed by their reunion because their separation is their woundedness.

This mythology is not to be confused with the emotionally incestuous relationship many men have with their mothers. It is a tricky area because many men who are looking for their mothers would believe that Percival’s quest is for the soul mate. How many men are really looking for their mothers when they believe they are looking for their soul mates?

To look for our soul mates, we must first be in our souls. Therefore, Percival, or anyone who is looking for a soul mate, must be themselves, aligned in their own truth. It is the soul that recognizes the soul it is looking for, its other half. For men, the other half is not the mother.

Therefore, while the wound of the Fisher King can be any wound, it can also be the mother wound that can be healed.

The key to this issue for men is that the man has to become the Prodigal Son and return to the Father in order to find his Anima woman.

The Anima will appear in different stages of a man’s journey to help him heal the shame that fed the incest with the mother or that separated him from relationship with his father. But the Anima will not be a consort, a soul mate, until he finds a true connection with his Divine Father. Only then can the man be the soul boy who can find the soul girl.

The Fisher King does not become healed by finding the mother. The journey is to find the bride. The man must be prepared to know the difference between the bride and the mother. The Anima can help prepare him through helping him heal enough to find his Father.

“The medieval Jewish myth of Yahweh and Matronit echoes the theme of the Grail legends: the king is powerless and impotent without his consort. It is the loss of the feminine counterpart of the god that causes the wound that never heals, and the stricken wasteland reflects the woundedness of God.” (From The Woman with the Alabaster Jar by Margaret Starbird, p. 86 )

There is a larger sense to this, for it is not enough for the King, the masculine principle, to be without the feminine. It is about the loss of the feminine, the loss of the Mary consciousness in our culture.

This is antithetical to the idea that men should be celibate, as Christ was said to be celibate. Christ was not celibate. Not only was he married, but he was as much in need of Mary’s support, the feminine connection for him, as she was in need of his support.

They were equals. Mary was not lost to the senex father any more than he was lost in the nuptials of the incested mother.

What they had together was soul-based. The boy and the girl together in a conjunctio all of its own. The training ground for a woman, of course, is through the Animus training her in relationship so that she can find relationship with a man in the world.

“In the story, the “Fisher King” Anfortas – that is, the Davidic “Fish-King” Jesus – can be healed only when the Grail is restored, and this will happen only when the right questions are asked. The loss of the feminine counterpoint is the source of the king’s wound, but the story was misunderstood by later interpreters of the legend who assumed the Grail to be an artifact, when in reality it was the lost and repudiated Bride.” (The Woman with the Alabaster Jar by Margaret Starbird p. 87)

The story of the Fisher King is also about what was lost when the consciousness of Mary went underground. What was left was sifted through the council of Nicea in the 300s as well as through the apostle Paul’s interpretation of Mary and Jesus. Through this process, Mary was excised from the canonical gospels. This loss, this gap, in feminine consciousness, has caused a great split. This split cannot be fully restored unless the feminine surfaces both in the man, who is healed by the Anima through the journey to the Father in order to be able to be partnered with the real feminine, and in the woman finding the girl within. In some way, it is about finding the girl within for both men and women. Letting the girl surface and be honored once again.

If we did not have the emotional issue of the loss of the feminine to face into, we, as a culture, would not have allowed for the political issues that suppressed the truth. It was not that most of us adamantly suppressed the truth; the culture was not really aware of it. Otherwise, we would not have allowed the suppression by our elders and statesmen. The heart of this book is about the reality of relationship in everyday people working with their dreams. How does the soul girl find her way out of her betrayal through her mother? In the story of Psyche and Cupid, neither Psyche’s mother nor Cupid’s mother wanted the girl to have a relationship with a loving man because she did not. How does the soul find its way out of the lie of the mother so she can stand with her beloved, both the Animus and her beloved partner?

Jesus was both Divine and human, just as Mary Magdalene was Divine and human. We let Mary, Jesus and others carry this human quality for us while we continue to live our miserable lives. In Archetypal Dreamwork, we want to have what they had. To reclaim the human and the Divine in our own personal lives and in our relationships.

Perhaps when the buried knowledge of the lost feminine principle as exemplified in Mary is revealed and is met by the healed masculine, an entirely different paradigm for relationship, for being human and being in relationship, will be awakened.

The purpose of this book is, in part, to show how our bringing our day-to-day dreams to our day-to-day reality can lead our souls to be uncovered from under all the ways we play out our dysfunctional masculine and feminine sides. How we live our dysfunctions without the girl and without the boy, not caring for each other. How we live in ways that have nothing to do with how Mary and Jesus lived.

Living with the soul freed in this way really depends on a purified or healed experience of the boy and the girl, but particularly, the feminine in both a man and a woman. The dreams help us create the vessel inside and also take us through the purification process of confronting pathology. Through this process we can work toward our descent into the deeper process of healing.
The Fisher King does not suffer from being wounded; rather, he falls into languishment because Perceval failed to ask him the Grail Question (24). Perceval’s failure to ask the Grail Question has other consequences: Arthur becomes a feeble king (3-21), Britain’s lands turn to waste (2), and its kingdoms, along with its knights, war against each other (24). Not knowing the identity of the knight who caused him his suffering, the Fisher King awaits the arrival of a worthy knight to heal him by asking the Grail Question. Two other knights attempt to cure him but fail: Gawain, mesmerized by the Grail Procession, fails to ask the Grail Question (88-90); Lancelot, because of his affair with Guinevere, is denied the opportunity to see the Grail (134-35).
The Fisher King is part of a genealogy that begins with his uncle, Joseph of Arimathea. He has two brothers, King Pelles and the King of Castle Mortal, and a sister, Yglais. King Pelles renounces his kingdom and becomes a religious hermit after the murder of his wife by his son, Joseus (40). The King of Castle Mortal, described as wicked, wars upon the Fisher King over possession of the Grail (40). Yglais, the Widow Lady, is Perceval’s mother and the widow of Alain li Gros. She waits for Perceval’s return to save her castle from attacks by the Lord of the Moors (38).
In contrast with his counterpart in other works, The Fisher King of the Perlesvaus is not healed but dies (185) before Perceval returns to conquer the Grail Castle (223-28). The body of the Fisher King lies in a richly decorated sepulcher, where “as soon as the body was placed in the coffin and [the priests and knights] were departed thence, they found on their return that it was covered by the tabernacle all dight as richly as it is now to be seen . . . and they say that every night was there a great brightness of light as of candles there, and they know not whence it should come save of God” (229).
God’s ceremonial decoration of the Fisher King’s tomb suggests that his death had great spiritual significance: Josephus recounts the tale of Cain and Abel to illustrate that although the King of Castle Mortal comes from the good lineage of Joseph of Arimathea, it is possible for him to become evil; however, since the Fisher King, through his suffering, did not yield to his brother’s evil, he became a spiritual model for others to follow

http://www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/Fisherking/fkessay.htm

The History of the Holy Grail closely follows Robert de Boron in some details: Joseph of Arimathea is given the Holy Grail after his services to Christ, and Jews imprison Joseph after Christ’s resurrection, suspecting him of treachery. Joseph is imprisoned for forty-two years, rather than for a matter of days, as in Robert de Boron (Lacy 1: 11). Because Joseph was sustained by the Grail during his imprisonment, when he is finally released, he appears not to have aged at all (1: 13).
The Vulgate Cycle establishes a timeline of approximately 400 years between the time of Joseph of Arimathea and the Grail Quest: Josephus’ return to minister the Grail mass is described as occurring three hundred years after his time (4: 84); 400 years pass between the moment of Mordrain’s blinding and his visit by Galahad (4: 29).
Joseph and his son, Josephus, bring the Grail to other lands and they convert their inhabitants to Christianity. Josephus suffers from a wounding that is quite similar to that suffered by the Maimed King, as an angel strikes him with a lance through his left thigh when he tries to stop the killing of the inhabitants of a city who would not convert to Christianity. The tip of the lance breaks off and remains in Josephus’ leg, causing him to walk with a limp and to have a wound that bleeds incessantly. Only after he baptizes an entire city is Josephus deemed cleansed of his sin, and an angel removes the tip of the lance from his leg (1: 49-51).
Bron does not become known as the Fisher King in The Vulgate Cycle; rather, his son, Alan the Fat, earns the name. Alan, the keeper of the Grail after Josephus (1: 157), follows Jospehus’ command to “go to the pond and get in the little boat; throw the net you will find there into the water and catch a fish” (1: 139). Alan catches a single fish that God multiplies to feed His followers. The followers, rejoicing in their great fortune, revere Alan:
Because of the great plenty that they had had from the gift of the fish Alan had caught, they gave him a name that was never abandoned, for they called him the Rich Fisherman. Thereafter he was called more often by that name than by his right name. And in his honor and because of that day’s grace, all those who were invested with the Holy Vessel were called Rich Fishermen (1: 140). 10
Alan brings the Grail west to a place called the Land Beyond and establishes the Grail castle of Corbenic. Joshua, Alan’s brother, becomes its king and, after Alan dies, he becomes the guardian of the Grail, the Rich Fisherman (1: 158-59).
After King Joshua, his son Aminadap rules and marries the daughter of the king of the Land Beyond. Aminadap fathers King Carcelois, who becomes known for his prowess as a great knight, as well for as his worthiness to God. After Carcelois, his son King Manuel rules, who then fathers King Lambor (1: 159).
King Lambor, who was supremely devoted to God, warred with Varlan, his neighbor. During one battle, Varlan flees after all of his men are killed. He discovers Solomon’s ship 11 and takes The Sword of the Strange Straps from it. Varlan finds Lambor and kills him with the sword. God avenges Lambor’s murder by turning the kingdoms of the Land Beyond and Wales into the Waste Land. As Varlan returns the Sword of the Strange Straps to its scabbard, he falls dead (1: 159-60).

Intermarriage among relations, cousins, and the like are, of course, very common with the descendants of David – and in fact most all royal lines. [It is also practiced to an amazing degree in Applachia West Virginia.] In some of the biblical royal cases marriages were between brothers and half-sisters (e.g. Abraham and Sarah, as well as Jechoniah and Dalilah – the latter two being the son and daughter of Jehoikim, c. 600 BC, but by different mothers). There is even the fun detail of Jesus’ brother, James the Just, marrying his mother’s niece, Anna.
The best part of all of this is that the House of David family tree – and many of the other royal lines – has a tendency to look like a rampant, incestuous vine earnestly attempting to cover a brick wall and in the process hide every hint of mortar and brick. For example.
If attempt to put all of this into perspective – and simultaneously set new records in terms of dropping names – we might first note that King David had two children by his wife, Maacah, daughter of King Talmai of Geshur. Their names were Tamar and Absalom. [BTW, highlighted names are the ones you will want to remember as you try to make sense of this wild and fully flowering vine-like family tree.] David also had two children by Bathsheba, widow of Uriah the Hittite. They were named Solomon (you’ve probably heard of him) and Nathan. Solomon married Naamah and had a son named Rehoboam, who then married Tamar’s daughter, Micaiah. Because of this, Micaiah was descended from David via two different lines (i.e. two of David’s children). In effect, Micaiah was doubly descended from David. This is an example of the big deal we mentioned earlier.

ACT I. Antwerp, c. 900s. On the banks of the Scheldt, a Herald announces King Heinrich, who asks Count Telramund to explain why the Duchy of Brabant is torn by strife and disorder. Telramund accuses his ward, Elsa, of having murdered her brother, Gottfried, heir to Brabant’s Christian dynasty. (Gottfried was actually enchanted by the evil Ortrud, whom Telramund has wed.) When Elsa is called to defend herself, she relates a dream of a knight in shining armor who will save her. The herald calls for the defender, but only when Elsa prays does the knight appear, magically drawn in a boat by a swan. He betroths himself to her on condition that she never ask his name or origin. Defeating Telramund in combat, the newcomer establishes the innocence of his bride.
Act II. Before dawn in the castle courtyard, Ortrud and the lamenting Telramund swear vengeance. When Elsa appears serenely in a window, Ortrud attempts to sow distrust in the girl’s mind, preying on her curiosity, but Elsa innocently offers the scheming Ortrud friendship. Inside, while the victorious knight is proclaimed guardian of Brabant, the banned Telramund furtively enlists four noblemen to side with him against his newfound rival. At the cathedral entrance, Ortrud and Telramund attempt to stop the wedding — she by suggesting that the unknown knight is in fact an impostor, he by accusing Elsa’s bridegroom of sorcery. Though troubled by doubt, Elsa reiterates her faith in the knight before they enter the church, accompanied by King Heinrich.
ACT III. Alone in the bridal chamber, Elsa and her husband express their love until anxiety and uncertainty at last compel the bride to ask the groom who he is and whence he has come. Before he can reply, Telramund and his henchmen burst in. With a cry, Elsa hands the knight his sword, with which he kills Telramund. Ordering the nobles to bear the body to the king, he sadly tells Elsa he will meet her later to answer her questions.
Escorting Elsa and the bier to the Scheldt, the knight tells the king he cannot now lead the army against the Hungarian invaders. He explains that his home is the temple of the Holy Grail at distant Monsalvat, to which he must return; Parsifal is his father, and Lohengrin is his name. He bids farewell and turns to his magic swan. Now Ortrud rushes in, jubilant over Elsa’s betrayal of the man who could have broken the spell that transformed her brother into a swan. But Lohengrin’s prayers bring forth Gottfried in place of his vanished swan, and after naming the boy ruler of Brabant, Lohengrin disappears, led by the dove of the Grail. Ortrud perishes, and Elsa, calling for her lost husband, falls lifeless to the ground.

Lohengrin is a character in German Arthurian literature. The son of Parzival (Percival), he is a knight of the Holy Grail sent in a boat pulled by swans to rescue a maiden who can never ask his identity. His story, which first appears in Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival, is a version of the Knight of the Swan legend known from a variety of medieval sources. Wolfram’s story was expanded in two later romances. In 1848 Richard Wagner adapted the medieval tale into his popular opera Lohengrin.

Contents
 [hide] 
1 Origin
2 Later history
3 Notes
4 References
5 External links
[edit] Origin
Lohengrin first appears as “Loherangrin,” the son of Parzival and Condwiramurs in Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival.[1] Wolfram’s story is a variation of the Knight of the Swan tale, previously attached to the Crusade cycle of medieval literature. Loherangrin and his twin brother Kardeiz join their parents in Munsalväsche when Parzival becomes the Grail King; Kardeiz later inherits their father’s secular lands, and Loherangrin remains in Munsalväsche as a Grail Knight. Members of this order are sent out in secret to provide lords to kingdoms that have lost their protectors and Loherangrin is eventually called to this duty in Brabant, where the duke has died without a male heir. His daughter Elsa fears the kingdom will be lost, but Loherangrin arrives in a boat pulled by a swan and offers to defend her, though he warns her she must never ask his name. He weds the duchess and serves Brabant for years, but one day Elsa asks the forbidden question. He explains his origin and steps back onto his swan boat, never to return.
The Knight of the Swan story was previously known from the tales of the ancestry of Godfrey of Bouillon, the first ruler of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem. The story appears in the two versions of the tale Naissance du Chevalier au Cygne, which describes the Swan Knight Elias arriving to defend the dispossessed Duchess of Bouillon. They marry and have a daughter, Ida, who becomes the mother of Godfrey and his brothers. The Knight of the Swan is not the only altered version of a popular story

Wolfram uses in his narrative; he makes Prester John the son of his character Feirefiz.

but important role in Arthurian legand, and is frequently blurred with her more infamous sister, Morgan le Fay.
According to Thomas Malory, Morgause is one of the three daughters of Igrayne and the Duke of Cornwall, so a half-sister to Arthur. As the wife of King Lot she became the mother of Gawaine, Gaheris, Agravaine, Gareth, and Mordred.
Morgause commits incest when she sleeps with Arthur and conceives Mordred. In the French Vulgate cycle Arthur is attracted to King Lot’s wife and deceives her into thinking he is her husband. It is only later that Arthur realizes he has committed incest. Mordred is the son produced from their tryst.
Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur says that Morgause did not know of her blood relationship to King Arthur when Mordred was conceived. She is portrayed by Malory as a generally “good” character” whose only real sin is her adultery. Arthur’s seduction of his wife, causes Lot to for a lifelong hatred of Authur. And it is the adultery of Morgause that brings about her death – Sir Gaheris, her son, finds his enemy Sir Lamerak in bed with his mother, Morgause. And in a fit of rage, kills his mother.
In modern adaptations of the Arthurian legend the incest is largely engineered by Morgause herself, and she using their son Mordred as a tool to destroy his father.

In the Brothers Grimm version, the hero speaks with the herdsman. Their conversation typically involves the hero asking, “Do the eagles (or ravens) still circle the mountaintop?” The herdsman, or a mysterious voice, replies, “Yes, they still circle the mountaintop.” “Then begone! My time has not yet come.”

About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
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