On Gawain and the Green Knight
The Wildest Adventure of the Wonders of Arthur
[I originally had plans to include the story of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight in my second book, “This Way to the Stars: A History of the Hero” (coming October 2023), but made the decision during the editing process that it didn’t quite belong there (at least in its entirety), so I’m offering a version of it here. Consider this a lost chapter.]
When A24 released their version of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight in 2021, the strangest story coming out of King Arthur’s court re-entered popular consciousness. Loved and translated by J.R.R. Tolkien, the story dates back to the late 14th century. For seven hundred years, the tale has pulled people in only to rob them of their wits—leaving the reader lost and wondering what any of it means.
Most books hard to make sense of slip through the cracks of history. But not Sir Gawain. Despite its enigmatic nature, it continues to capture our imagination. Even though we can’t make sense of it, it somehow makes perfect sense in a way we can’t pin down. The Green Knight haunts us long after we’ve left the poem’s lines. Just as he haunts Gawain within them.
All of this speaks to the genius of its author, about whom we, unfortunately, know very little.
The Author
We know next to nothing factual about the poet who wrote the original Sir Gawain. Stashed on the shelves of a library in Yorkshire, the manuscript it’s inked on—which wasn’t published in its entirety until 1839—contains three other works (Pearl, Patience, and Purity). In the introduction to his translation of Sir Gawain, Tolkien says this of the bard:
Of this author, nothing is now known. But he was a major poet of his day; and it is a solemn thought that his name is not forgotten, a reminder of the great gaps of ignorance over which we now weave the thin webs of our literary history. But something to the purpose may still be learned of this writer from his works. He was a man of serious and devote mind, though not without humour; he had an interest in theology, and some knowledge of it, though an amateur knowledge, perhaps, rather than a profesional; he had Latin and French and was well enough read in French books, both romantic and instructive; but his home was in the West Midlands of England: so much his language shows, and his metre, and his scenery.1
The two greatest hints the author gives us regarding their identity come in the beginning and at the end. What we learn from the start is that, whoever they were, they knew enough about the great literary tradition to put themselves in the company of Homer and Virgil and place the work within the context of a story that started with Troy. Here’s how the author sets the scene in Sir Gawain:
When the siege and the assault had ceased at Troy,
and the fortress fell in flame to firebrands and ashes,
the traitor who the contrivance of treason there fashioned
was tried for his treachery, the most true upon earth—
it was Aeneas the noble and his renowned kindred
who then laid under them lands, and lords became
of well-nigh all the wealth in the Western Isles.
When royal Romulus to Rome his road had taken,
in great pomp and pride he peopled it first,
and named it with his own name that yet now it bears;
Tirius went to Tuscany and towns founded,
Langaberde in Lombardy uplifted halls,
and far over the French flood Felix Brutus
on many a broad bank and brae Britain established full fare,
where strange things, strife and sadness,
at whiles in the land did fare,
and each other grief and gladness
oft fast have followed there.
And when fair Britain was founded by his famous lord,
bold men were bred there who in battle rejoiced,
and many a time that betid they troubles aroused.
In this domain more marvels have by men been seen
than in any other that I know of since tha tooden time;
but of all that here abode in Britain as kings
ever as Arthur most honoured, and I have heard men tell.
Wherefore a marvel among men I mean to recall,
a sight strange to see some men have held it,
one of the wildest adventures of the wonders of Arthur…2
In a few pages, the author establishes the story of Gawain as the latest rung in a chain that links all the way back to the Trojan War. According to the legend as recounted by the Gawain poet, after Aeneas fled the ruins of Troy to establish Rome, his great-grandson (Felix Brutus) founded Britain. There, bold men were born—Gawain among them.
At the end of the poem, we find another clue regarding the author’s identity. The phrase “hony soyt qui mal pence” or “shamed be whoever thinks ill of it” is inked just below the last lines. Upon investigation, we find that this motto belongs to the British chivalric Order of the Garter—the highest of all British knighthoods (except in Scotland), founded by King Edward III around the time of his claim to the French throne (1348). Some scholars think that Edward III created the Order to gain support for his dubious claim to the French throne, so it seems to me at least a possibility that he (like Caesar Augustus did with Virgil) employed the unknown poet to legitimate his efforts. This saying and the significance of the garter will make more sense after we’ve revisited the written story (which has some important plot differences from the A24 movie).
The Story
The story begins in Camelot on New Year’s Eve, with King Arthur and his court gathered at the Round Table waiting to eat until they’ve had an adventure (as they often do in Arthurian legend). In bursts a gigantic green figure riding a green horse:
For hardly had the music but a moment ended,
and the first course in the court as was custom been served,
when there passed through the portals a perilous horsemen,
the mightiest on middle-earth in measure of height,
…
that half troll upon earth I trow that he was,
but the largest man alive at least I declare him;
…
All of green were they made, both garments and man:
a coat tight and close that clung to his sides;
a rich robe above it all arrayed within
…
even the horse that upheld him in hue was the same,
I tell:
a green horse great and thick,
a stallion stiff to quell
in broidered bridle quick:
he matched his master well.3
Half troll and half nobleman, he wears no armor (to show he’s not seeking war) but carries an axe in one hand and a holly bough in the other:
And yet he had not a helm, nor a hauberk either,
not a pisane, not a plate that was proper to arms;
not a shield, not a shaft, for shock or for blow,
but in his one hand he held a holly-bundle,
that is greatest in greenery when groves are leafless,
and an axe in the other, ugly and monstrous.4
As King Arthur and his knights sit dumbstruck by the might and mystery of the giant that walked through their gates, the Green Knight approaches and proposes a strange game. Someone from the court can take his axe and deal a blow—any blow they want—on the condition that one year from now the Green Knight gets to deliver one of his own:
If any fellow be so fierce as my faith to test,
hither let him haste to me and lay hold of this weapon—
I hand it over for ever, he can have it as his own—
and I will stand a stroke from him, stock-still on this floor,
provided thou’lt lay down this law: that I may deliver him another.
Claim I!
And yet a respite I’ll allow,
till a year and a day go by.
Come quick, and let’s see now
if any here dare reply!5
A blow for a blow. Those are the terms. When none of the knights reply, the Green Knight taunts them: “What! Is this Arthur’s house…Where now is your haughtiness, and your high conquests, / your fierceness and fell mood, and fine boasting?”6
A young Arthur, eager to defend the honor of his court, rises to accept the challenge but is stopped by Gawain, the youngest of the knights and nephew of Arthur:
I am the weakest, I am aware, and in wit feeblest,
and the least loss, if I live not, if one would learn the truth.
Only because you are my uncle is honour given me:
save your blood in my body I boast of no virtue;
and since this affair is so foolish that it nowise befits you,
and I have requested it first, accord it then to me!7
Arthur agrees and relinquishes the axe to Gawain. Grabbing the weapon, Gawain walks up to the Green Knight, who first makes the young knight restate the terms of the game (i.e., blow for blow) and then bares his neck.
With one swift stroke, Gawain relieves the Green Knight of his head (thinking that would be the end of the game). As the head rolled, green blood burst from the body. But the headless giant neither faltered nor fell. Standing up, the Green Knight retrieves his dislodged dome and mounts his horse. Holding his severed head by the hair, he twists the face toward Genuivere and opens its eyelids:
See thou get ready, Gawain, to go as thou vowedst,
and as faithfill seek till thou find me, good sir,
as thou hast promised in this place in the presence of these knights.
To the Green Chapel go thou, and get thee, I charge thee,
such a dint as thou hast dealt—indeed thou hast earned
a nimble knock in return on New Year’s morning!8
With that, the Green Knight departs and the court celebrates all evening. “A year slips by swiftly” and the time for Gawain to hold up his end of the bargain arrives. Making his final preparations, Gawain puts on his armor, complete with the Pentangle of perfection9: “Gawain as good was acknowledged and as gold refined, / devoid of every vice and with virtues adorned. / So there / the pentangle painted new / he on the shield and coat did wear.”10
Now properly adorned, Gawain spurns his horse and springs on his way so swiftly that sparks flash behind him. Through the wilderness Gawain rides without fellowship, meeting many obstacles on the way:
Many a cliff he climbed o’er in countries unknown,
far fled from his friends without fellowship he rode.
At every wading or water on the way that he passed
he found a foe before him, save at few for a wonder;
and so foul were they and fell that fight he must needs.
So many a marvel in the mountains he met in those lands
that ‘twould be tedious the tenth part to tell you thereof.
…
Had he not been stalwart and staunch and steafast in God,
he doubtless would have died and death had met often;
for though war wearied him much, the winter was worse…11
Coming to the edge of his will just a few days before his oath to the Green Knight was due, Gawain cries out in prayer to God and the Virgin Mary for shelter. Right on cue, a glorious castle comes into view and Gawain quickly rides up to its chalk-white walls. Calling out for assistance, Gawain’s pleas are answered immediately by the palace porter—who assures Gawain that he is welcome for as long as he’d like to stay.
Gawain enters and gallops through the halls, where he is greeted first by the lord of the castle and then, later, by the lord’s beautiful wife. As introductions are made, evening comes and castle festivities begin. Sitting in front of the castle’s court, Gawain reveals his identity and his quest for the Green Chapel. The lord laughs and tells Gawain not to worry—the place he’s looking for is less than a half-day ride away. A relieved agrees to stay for a few days, and just before bed, the lord proposes a covenant:
‘One more thing,’ said the master, ‘we’ll make an agreement:
whatever I win in the wood at once shall be yours,
and whatever gain you may get you shall give in exchange.
Shall we swap thus, sweet man—come, say what you think!—12
Gawain accepts the agreement and goes to bed. The next day, while the lord is off with 100 hundred men hunting, the lady of the castle slips into Gawain’s bedroom and tries to seduce him. Gawain manages to evade all of her advances save one: her request for a single parting kiss. Which Gawain reluctantly agrees to in the interest of courtesy. When the lord returns and offers Gawain the spoils of his hunt, Gawain keeps his end of the deal and gives the lord a kiss (without revealing the source).
The next day, this cycle repeats. While the lord is out hunting, the lady again sneaks into Gawain’s room, tries to seduce him, and is unsuccessful except for a kiss. Like the day before, the lord and Gawain keep their compact—this time, a boar for a kiss.
On the third (and final) day, when the lady comes in, she tries a different approach (after her same stale attempts at seduction fail for a third time). First, she asks Gawain to give her one of his gloves. But Gawain refuses, saying such a thing is not worthy of her.
Next, she offers him a rich ring of red-gold fashion with a stone like a star standing on top, telling him its worth was beyond measure. Gawain refuses this also, on the grounds that he has no gift to return. Finally, she offers her green girdle, telling Gawain that whoever wears the enchanted belt cannot be hurt.
Thinking of what waited for him the next day at the Green Chapel, the temptation proved too much for Gawain. He graciously accepted the girdle (and another kiss) from the lady and the two agreed to tell nobody. This time when the lord returns, Gawain gets a fox but gives only another kiss (keeping the sash he received a secret and breaking the agreement).
Gathering his armor and his groomed horse, Gawain then departs for the Green Chapel:
I’ll fare to the Chapel, whatever chance may befall,
and have such words with that wild man as my wish is to say,
come fair or come foul, as fate will allot...13
Coming to an old cavern with overgrown vines stretching up its walls, Gawain enters and calls out to the Green Knight. Hearing him, the giant emerges from a crag, holding a huge Danish axe. Marching methodically toward Gawain, the two exchange a few final words and Gawain bares his neck just as the Green Knight had done for him.
The Green Knight lifts the axe and Gawain’s courage crumbles. As the Green Knight chops down, Gawain shifts to one side and avoids the blow. After belittling Gawain for flinching, the green giant takes a second swing and intentionally misses to test Gawain’s never. This time, it is Gawain that grows impatient, grumbling that the Green Knight get on with it.
So he does:
Lightly his weapon he lifted, and let it down neatly
with the bent horn of the blade towards the neck that was bare;
though he hewed with a hammer-swung, he hurt him no more
than to snick him on one side and sever the skin.14
As Gawain stands with naught but a nick on his neck, the Green Knight reveals himself to be the lord of the castle that had just hosted the knight. He explains to Gawain how the first two (missed) blows were a reward for the knight keeping his word the first two days. And the blow that bit his flesh on the third swing was for his failure on the third day:
For it is my weed that thou wearest, that very woven girdle:
my own wife it awarded thee, I wot well indeed.
Now I am aware of thy kisses, and thy courteous ways,
and of thy wooing by my wife: I worked that myself!
I sent her to test thee, and thou seem’st to me truly
the fair knight most faultless that e’er foot set on earth!
As a pearl than white pease is prized more highly,
so is Gawain, in good faith, than other gallant knights.
But in this you lacked, sir, a little, and of loyalty came short.
But that was for no artful wickedness, not for wooing either,
but because you loved your own life: the less do I blame you.15
Ashamed, Gawain says he’ll wear the green girdle as long as he lives as a reminder of his failure. Extending mercy once again, the Green Knight assures Gawain that all slights against him are forgiven and then goes on to tell of how the sorceress Morgan le Fay set the whole thing up to test the pride of King Arthur’s court.
Parting ways, Gawain returns home and tells the entire kingdom of his adventure and his failure, showing the notch on his neck and confessing his failures. “It was torment to tell the truth: / in his face the blood did flame; / he groaned for grief and ruth / when he showed it, to his shame.”16
But instead of being shunned as he expected, Gawain instead receives grace. Out of love for Gawain, every knight in the Brotherhood agrees from that day forward to wear a sash in his honor, and the story comes to a close with the inscription mentioned earlier: HONY SOYT QUI MAL PENCE. “Shamed be whoever thinks ill of it.”
The Symbolism
No matter how long we stare at Sir Gawain or how many times we read it, we always seem to leave with more questions than answers. What’s the significance of the beheading game? Why doesn’t Gawain slap the Green Knight with the holly instead of cutting his head off? Why aren’t the kisses from the lady sins? Why doesn’t the sash prevent the Green Knight from harming him? Why didn’t the Green Knight cut Gawain’s head off? What’s with everyone wearing the sash as a positive symbol when Gawain returns and tells them he failed? Why is this one of the most adapted Arthurian legends? I could continue but I think you get the point.
These are all questions I don’t have a definitive answer to. The best I can do, at this stage, is to offer a few observations on what I see reflecting out of the myth’s mirror.
We start with the mystery of the Green Knight. As a figure, he is as C.S. Lewis said, “as vivid and concrete as any image in literature,” and, as Tolkien pointed out, the “most difficult character” to interpret in the poem.
From my view, he seems to stand as a sort of primordial wild man that pre-dates rationality and civilization (like Enkidu in Gilgamesh or Iron John from the Brothers Grimm fairy tale). He is nature and time, marching ceaselessly on as nations rise and fall—part of that mysterious force afoot in the universe that no man can fully understand but must ultimately yield to.
Sent to test the pride of King Arthur’s court, the Green Knight serves as this morally ambiguous eternal agent. In some ways, he serves a benevolent purpose—his invincibility reminding King Arthur and his court of their limitations and inspiring humility (like God does at the end of Job). In other ways, he is like Job’s accuser (commonly seen as Satan)—testing and tempting the virtue of Gawain.
When he deals Gawain a cut on his neck, we get an image that reminds us of Jacob wrestling with an angel in Genesis and leaving with a limp. When he demands that Gawain honor the terms of his absurd game to see if he’ll follow through, we’re reminded of another story in Genesis: God telling Abraham to sacrifice his son (Isaac) before ultimately sparing them once He saw they’d go through with it.
By insisting on a game that defies logic, the Green Knight manages to metaphorically sever the head of Gawain long before he proposes to literally do it. Just as he separates us, the readers, from the delusion that our rationality will always win.
For all its confusing and enigmatic qualities, the poem is still a chivalric romance. What it means to live virtuously remains a core theme. And at the heart of Sir Gawain, we see a poet stressing the importance of keeping one’s word, regardless of the cost. The making and breaking of covenants drive the entire narrative.
Gawain’s agreement with the Green Knight. His covenant with Bertilak and then the lady of the castle. The whole poem is about how far one knight will go to keep his word. And while he fails to do so in at least one way (hiding the girdle from Bertilak), he succeeds in many other ways.
When he shows up at the Green Chapel, he proves himself willing to keep his word, regardless of the cost. And when he goes back to his village and owns up to the painful truth of his partial failure, he shows himself even more trustworthy. Again staying loyal to the Logos—the Word and the Truth—no matter how painful.
This is the behavior that the poem wants to encourage. Telling the truth. Honoring your word. Owning up to failures. That’s what a real knight does.
And “shamed be whoever thinks ill of it.”
“Let him who is without sin among you be the first to cast a stone.”17
—
P.S. Considering Tolkien’s love (or, at least, deep interest) for Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, it’s fun to think about which parts of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings might have been influenced or inspired by the story. I see at least three potential parallels: (1) like Gawain, Frodo is a hero that ultimately “fails” at the end when he hesitates to throw the ring into Mount Doom; (2) like Lothlorien, Bertilak’s castle is a sort of heaven that Gawain must leave to complete his quest; and (3) resisting temptation is a core theme in both.
J.R.R Tolkien’s translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight published by the Random House Publishing Group (hereinafter “Sir Gawain”), Introduction.
Sir Gawain, p. 23 - 24.
Sir Gawain, p. 29 - 30.
Sir Gawain, p. 31.
Sir Gawain, p. 34.
Sir Gawain, p. 35.
Sir Gawain, p. 37.
Sir Gawain, p. 40.
The poem contains the first recorded use of the pentangle in English literature. The text goes on to explain the symbolism of the pentangle’s five points and its Endless Knot. Faultless in five senses. Five fingers. Five wounds that Christ received. Five Joys by valor gained. Five virtues: Generosity. Fellowship. Purity. Chivalry (Courtesy). Piety.
Sir Gawain, p. 47.
Sir Gawain, p. 50 - 51.
Sir Gawain, p. 65.
Sir Gawain, p. 106.
Sir Gawain, p. 112. This deviates from the movie, which ends with the Green Knight ambiguously saying “now off with your head.”
Sir Gawain, p. 115.
Sir Gawain, p. 120.
John 8:7.
This is the first I’ve read of the poem itself since watching the film, it’s a fascinating story for sure!