And so concludes one of the most tragic tales of our time.  In a lethal mixture of emotions, laws, and fate, the forbidden love between two young people gave way to the destruction of an entire kingdom.  Lancelot and Guinevere, the star-crossed lovers of the Arthurian legend, risked all to be together and damned the consequences.  In the end, their King, their God, and their people had all been betrayed.  The only thing that remained was an empty future for the population of Britain, damned by the sins of others for decades to come.

            Why then, after so many centuries, are we continually fascinated by such a mournful story?  As Gottfried von Strassbourg explains, “‘If the two of whom this love-story tells had not endured sorrow for the sake of joy…their names and history would never have brought such rapture to so many spirits.’” (69).  As readers, we are drawn into the fabric of the tale—we identify ourselves with the characters and understand what they are feeling.  We sympathize with Lancelot’s struggles, Guinevere’s disgrace, and Arthur’s despair—we understand their inner conflicts and the reasons for their fateful actions.  And even in the end, we fight to reject the tragic ends that the three meet—because after all that has transpired; they have earned our respect and our compassion.  

            As the centuries have passed and the group of Arthurian authors has grown, the myth has become stronger than ever.  Chrétien de Troyes, Sir Thomas Malory, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, T.H. White, and many others have helped to expand and cement the legend.  Just as courtly love, jousting, religion, and humor were slipped into the story, so was depth being added all the while.  Today, we have a wealth of information about the fabled court of Camelot, and we are as intrigued as our ancestors were generations ago—fascinated by the idea of a dream lost and yet to be found.

  Yet amidst its ill-fated characters and complex plot, there are two central themes that can be found in nearly every version of the Arthurian legend.  The first, pertaining to the forbidden relationship of Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere, shows us that love has both a light side and a dark side.  The roots of their longtime affair could be found in a need to escape their sorrowful lives, and in giving into their passions, they found joy.  However, this ‘joy’ soon degenerated into a desperate emotion that would damn an entire kingdom to its premature end.  From these occurrences, we are faced with an axiom that each author placed in their own version of the tale: love can be both an incredibly powerful creative and destructive force at the same time—spurning passion and guilt, happiness and jealousy, and ultimately, solace and betrayal.  In the light of day, it can bring bliss.  But in the cover of night, it will bring sorrow.

            The second universal theme pertains to the destruction of the kingdom Camelot.  King Arthur, the ruler of this golden fantasyland, had always been intent on filling his court with the laws of chivalry and justice.  Though he succeeded at first, the monarch would soon experience the anguish of failure.  However moral his intentions while building it, Arthur’s belief that his kingdom was invincible would eventually be contradicted.  For no idea is without its weaknesses, just as his own was not without its own minute fissures.  He forgot to imagine that one act of betrayal could very well doom the virtuous quest of his life.  Through this folly, King Arthur demonstrated the truth that a dream is amongst the most fragile of all thoughts—regardless of size, intent, or influence.  And now, with our heroes buried and that golden castle forgotten, we are left to only memories of what was once “‘a fleeting wisp of glory called Camelot.’”(70).