Spear

by Nicola Griffith

She left all she knew to find who she could be . . .

She grows up in the wild wood, in a cave with her mother, but visions of a faraway lake drift to her on the spring breeze, scented with promise. And when she hears a traveler speak of Artos, king of Caer Leon, she decides her future lies at his court. So, brimming with magic and eager to test her strength, she breaks her covenant with her mother and sets out on her bony gelding for Caer Leon.

With her stolen hunting spear and mended armour, she is an unlikely hero, not a chosen one, but one who forges her own bright path. Aflame with determination, she begins a journey of magic and mystery, love, lust and fights to death. On her adventures, she will steal the hearts of beautiful women, fight warriors and sorcerers, and make a place to call home.

The legendary author of Hild returns with an unforgettable hero and a queer Arthurian masterpiece for the modern era. Nicola Griffith’s Spear is a spellbinding vision of the Camelot we've longed for, a Camelot that belongs to us all.

Genres: Fantasy, Queer, LGBT, Historical Fiction, Fiction, Retellings, Novella

184 pages, Hardcover

First published April 19, 2022

About the author

Nicola Griffith has won the Los Angeles Times' Ray Bradbury Prize, the Society of Authors' ADCI Literary Prize, the Washington State Book Award (twice), the Nebula Award, the Otherwise/James Tiptree, Jr. Memorial Award, the World Fantasy Award, Premio Italia, Lambda Literary Award (6 times), and others. She is also the co-editor of the Bending the Landscape series of anthologies. Her newest novels are Hild and So Lucky. Her Aud Torvingen novels are soonn to be rereleased in new editions. She lives in Seattle with her wife, writer Kelley Eskridge, where she's working on the sequel to Hild, Menewood.

Series:
* Aud Torvingen

Reviews

[Alix Harrow · Rating 5 out of 5]

if you haven't read Griffith......i almost envy you, because oh my god, one of the greats.

this is one of my new favorites from her, and stunning reclamation of the arthurian mythos. the thing that has lingered with me, months and months after reading it, is the sheer sensory joy of it. peretur is so vibrant, so willfully alive, so in love with the world around her--and so was i, reading this.

[Lex Kent · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very interesting take on part of the King Arthur legend. If you follow my reviews, it will seem like a broken record how often I mention loving retellings, especially queer ones. I also happen to be a fan of Griffith so this was a must read for me. Griffith writes stories that are compelling, with memorable characters (Aud, I still miss you), so I’m always interested to see what she will write about next. While I have to be honest that I didn’t love this read, I still really appreciated it and found that it stuck with me and I kept thinking about it long after I finished reading it last week.

This is a novella staring a woman who wants to be “a knight of the round table” so she dresses herself as a man and goes off to prove that she belongs. While this is novella length, I thought pace wise it worked very well. It did not seem rushed and it felt like Griffith got to really pack a lot into a shorter amount of pages. I do want to mention that this is a bit of a cerebral read. What I mean by that is it’s the kind of read you want to take your time with since there is a lot packed into the words that Griffith chose to write with. This is not a light quick read that you want to fly through as you will miss too much. I actually think this is one of those rare times that this might be even better on audio because I believe hearing the words could be pretty magical.

Because this is a novella, I don’t want to go into too much and give any spoilers away by accident. I will say that this made me more interested in a subject that I thought I knew pretty well already. The end notes about the histories and different versions were amazing (I hope everyone reads that part) and the way Griffith wove her story using the different legends, is really impressive. For the romance fans out there this does have a sapphic romance but it is not a main storyline of the book. I thought the way Griffith added queer characters into this tale was well done and seemed realistic since you know there were queer people in the middle ages. I would recommend this to fans of Griffith, and people looking to read a queer and more cerebral retelling of the middle period of the Arthur legend.

A copy was given to me for a review.

[Nataliya · Rating 3 out of 5]

It’s just my luck that three seconds after finishing a book about King Arthur - a book I loathed - the next book I pick up without any clue what it’s about ends up being about, well, Arthurian legends. Two books about Arthurian stuff I’ve read in my life — and both apparently right now.

What are the odds of this craziness?

Well, I could *try* do the math, but I’m not a genius. So let’s just deal with the fait accompli.

————
Good news is I didn’t hate it. Bad news, I’m still yet to find an Arthurian legends book I love. But “not hating it” is the step in the right direction.

“She looked at her big hand, red now. Men’s blood. She had killed a man; more than one man. The world looked no different, but she felt different in it, as though it had tilted on its axis and the line of stars had changed.”

Apparently this is the reimagined story of one of the Knights of the Round Table, Percival — written here as Peretur, born as a half-mortal girl, attracted to the life of a warrior and presenting as a young man in order to lead the life of combat, with magical artifacts and a queer love story added to the mix, all that setting up the quest of self-discovery.

It’s a competently told story with deliberate writing and attention to detail, with vivid descriptions and with that specific tone that gives it a mythology feel. And yet something about it kept me at the arms’ length. It’s quite atmospheric and yet a bit detached at the same time — an interesting combo, but missing something and keeping Peretur at a bit of a distance from her own story, not allowing me to get a good feel for her besides that some powers drive her on a quest for which I couldn’t care that much. The “why” of the quest was missing, and that makes it hard to care.

Not to mention that Peritur was quite overpowered with her magical abilities, and that lowered the stakes since it was clear that nothing ever would go wrong for her in her quests and magic made her perfect at everything with little need for training. Too easy is not always very interesting, and a recipe for blandness.

Plus, the lushness of descriptions came close to veering into purple territory (my tolerance for purplish prose is apparently reserved just for certain books, and this wasn’t it).

And yet it wasn’t bad. Just alright and not a book I’ll remember in a few days, but not a waste of time. Not every story is a “Nataliya” kind of story, and it simply wasn’t for me. Time for a break from Arthurian legends.

3-ish stars.

[K.J. Charles]

A genderswapped alt-Arthurian tale in which Percival is a woman and a demigod. Beautifully written with a very Malory vibe in that the writing is quite sparse and, although we're in Peredur's POV, rather, what's the word, external--we see rather than feel what she experiences. It works very well and has the right sort of vibe for the strangeness of the Matter of Britain, although this telling is definitely grounded in physicality. Peredur has things perhaps a bit easy--there's no sense of internal quest or learning curve--but then, demigod (and as if to balance it, the lords of Camelot are rather more flawed than usual), and the ending with her and Nimue is extremely clever. An engaging read and a refreshingly inclusive take. Recommended!

[BJ Lillis · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m not much for sword and sorcery, have never been deeply compelled by Arthurian romance, and am not particularly excited by the endless retellings and revisionings that clog our imaginative literature—but a good book is a good book. And this is a wonderful book. Exquisitely written, fierce, grounded, its magic magical, farms and forests alive, legends deep and clear. Too short to wear out its welcome, yet easily long enough to lose oneself in. There are a whole host of authors trying to write cozy these days—cozy mysteries, cozy space operas, cozy fantasies, all warm tea and friendly banter—but all venturesome readers know that the coziest book for a drizzly March day is one with teeth and bite, and as for the warm tea, well, one can easily supply that oneself.

[Peter Tillman · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nicola Griffith does a new retelling of the Arthurian legend. It started out a bit slowly, for me -- but once I figured out where she was going, I was totally caught up in the book, a long(ish) novella. If anyone in the audience has never read any of Griffith's stuff, this would be a good entry point. Highly, and enthusiastically, recommended.

Jo Walton got to read it early, and liked it a lot:
"This is as good as Hild and even more resonant. She handles the myth and the history both deftly and beautifully. I loved this. It’s a long, long time since I read anything Arthurian I liked as much as this. I’m sorry you have to wait for it to come out, but do read it as soon as you can. Clever and gripping and just all round marvellous."
https://www.tor.com/2021/08/09/jo-wal...

Thanks much to the publisher and Net Galley for the e-ARC. Just published, 4/25/22

[Magrat Ajostiernos · Rating 5 out of 5]

Para mi el libro perfecto de los mitos artúricos.
Su prosa delicada y envolvente me atrapó desde la primera página, tiene algo de antigua leyenda, de esas historias que se leen en voz alta y te hacen soñar e imaginar que estás en otro tiempo y en una tierra muy distinta a la tuya.
Me ha pasado en muy pocas ocasiones esto, con El señor de los anillos, Historias de Terramar, Las bestias olvidadas de Eld y también con Lanza.
Se dice que si Ursula K Le Guin hubiera escrito una novela de los mitos artúricos sería como 'Lanza' y estoy de acuerdo.
Para mi supuso una lectura bella y emocionante, repleta de épica y con una protagonista sencillamente inolvidable. Un libro raro, completamente único y maravilloso.

[Bethany (Beautifully Bookish Bethany) · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am hit and miss with Arthurian adjacent books but this was an excellent story with gorgeous prose! Spear is a gender-bent, queer Arthurian tale from the perspective of a young woman who travels as a man, hoping to join Arthur's companions in fighting for what is good. (and will also win the hearts of beautiful ladies) It has magic, action, sapphic romance, and truly beautiful writing. And it's clear that the author has done her research as well!

The audiobook is narrated by the author herself and that is also excellent. Authors narrating their own fiction can be hit and miss, but this was great and I would recommend it if audio is your thing. Definitely worth picking up if this has been on your radar! I received an advance audio review copy of this book via NetGalley, all opinions are my own.

[CaseyTheCanadianLesbrarian · Rating 4 out of 5]

A gorgeous old fashioned but also very queer King Arthur fantasy story (a retelling of Percival the Knight, specifically) written and read by Nicola Griffith. I was very content to just let this story take me on a ride of adventure, history, nature, and 6th century Welsh lesbians! Peredur is an interesting gender nonconforming heroine, half human and half god, whose superpower is being really in tune with the natural world and the environment around her.

[JulesGP · Rating 5 out of 5]

Seeing a new Nicola Griffith novella coming out put a spark in my heart. Spear is an Arthurian tale with a female twist which makes it even more amazing. The main character, Peretur, is raised in an isolated cave deep in a forest, warded by her mother’s magic. Her mother is deathly afraid of the two of them being found but never reveals why. Finally of age and disguised as a man, Peretur treks to the outside world, driven by a quest that is not even clear to her. She is not like others and her uncanny abilities in battle and her free way with wildlife keep her safe on her journey to seek out King Artos and his city.

It’s a short book but rich in detail. There’s never a wasted phrase or interaction. There are good action scenes and the pace ebbs and flows artfully. Everything is a brick carefully laid out. Peretur has several love interests, all women and they feel perfect in the moment, especially when she finds her true love. In poor hands, Peretur could have come off as distant and overly larger than life, but Griffith writes her as a humble soul so she is easy to like and I was invested in the outcome.

The author states in the afterword that King Arthur stories are essentially fanfic with each person adding their own spin which makes sense. This is a wonderful addition. Nicola Griffith introduced me to w/w stories in the 1990’s with Ammonite, The Blue Place, and Slow River. I will forever be a fan but this book is a small treasure and I would recommend anyway. I already bought the audiobook and am looking forward to listening to Griffith’s narration as well.

[Lindsay · Rating 5 out of 5]

A version of the later Arthurian myth which follows Peretur (an historically-named version of Percival) as a woman disguised as a man seeking to become a Companion of Arturus (King Arthur). It's beautifully informed by what we know of the Early Middle Ages in this area of Britain as well as various sources from Arthurian myths (lovingly detailed in a long and fascinating Author's Note).

I'm a fan of Nicola Griffith in general, and I think this is the best thing of hers I've read. This is an excellent version of the myth that uses it as scaffolding to tell it's own interesting story.

[Mangrii · Rating 5 out of 5]

Desde pequeño conozco los conceptos básicos de la leyenda artúrica: Merlín, la espada clavada en la piedra, el santo grial o la dama del lago. Sin embargo, la leyenda artúrica es algo mucho más profundo, repleto de reinterpretaciones y versiones totalmente diferentes. Lo maravilloso de Lanza es justo eso: Nicola Griffith recupera las fuentes tradicionales pero a la vez no se adscribe a ninguna. La nota final de la autora, donde exhibe sus fuentes de investigación y conocimientos sobre las leyendas medievales, dan buena fe de ello. Y es que Lanza es una fantasía medieval concentrada en la que perderse, repleta de aventura, magia y romance, que establece una versión subversiva de la famosa leyenda de Sir Percival. La historia clásica se entreteje con otras leyendas arcaicas y forman una reinterpretación audaz y familiar, viva y sobrenatural, que se salta todas las convenciones establecidas.

Disociando lo familiar
La historia sigue a una niña, inicialmente sin nombre, que luego se hace llamar Peretur y crece con su madre en la naturaleza antes de salir a buscar aventuras. Después de encontrarse con un noble grupo de caballeros, se propone la tarea de unirse a su compañía, se hace un nombre luchando contra feroces bandidos y, finalmente, debe liderar una búsqueda enredada con sus propios orígenes sobrenaturales. Lanza esta contando desde el punto de vista de esta joven que, disfrazada de hombre, crece hasta convertirse en una versión de Parsifal o Perceval, aquí conocido como Peredur (Lanza) dado que nos situamos en el Gales del siglo VI y Griffith utiliza sus equivalentes como explica al final del libro. Así se encuentra con los personajes clásicos como Cei (Sir Kay), Myrddyn (Merlín) o Artos (Arturo) y fragmentos de la mitología irlandesa, como el Tuath Dé, que forman parte central de las aventuras de Peredur.

Lanza tiene la peculiar habilidad para disociar lo familiar, haciendo guiños a diferentes iteraciones del personaje a la vez que rompe todo lo establecido, con una protagonista genderqueer y una habilidosa representación de la discapacidad. El bildungsroman construido por Nicola Griffith se convierte en un mundo nuevo para el lector, que sin dejar atrás los ecos del pasado y resultar en cierta manera familiar, nos empapa por completo y no deja de sentirse como una nueva iteración concentrada y actualizada del mito. El escenario, el viaje y los elementos conocidos están ahí, pero Lanza es una epopeya concisa, que deja clara su propia naturaleza y sorprende por los altos vuelos que alcanza con cada uno de sus nuevos giros.

Evocando la leyenda
Quizá una de los aspectos más relevantes cuando comienzas a leer Lanza, a parte de las preciosas ilustraciones de Rovina Cai que acompañan cada pocas páginas, sea el tono y el estilo de leyenda medieval del texto. Y es que no me puedo imaginar los infiernos que ha debido pasar Arrate Hidalgo, su traductora, para conseguir reproducirlo. El texto de Nicola Griffith está plagado de aliteraciones y metáforas llamativas, nunca floridas o pasadas de rosca, sino siempre potentes y destiladas. Cercana a la perspectiva más juvenil de Peretur, Nicola Griffith hace magia cuando pasamos a la acción y nos deja anonadados con las imágenes que consigue describir. Es curioso como Lanza, pese a parecer algo ajeno de primeras, y aún más con su lenguaje, consigue ser una historia tan universal. Una leyenda medieval que narra lo que es sentirse como un extraño, pero que nos insufla a través de sus palabras el valor para encontrar un hogar, una comunidad y una familia.

La magia siendo mágica
Los elementos fantásticos en Lanza están muy presentes, pero se manejan de una manera intrigante durante toda la novela. Hay muchos tipos de magia dentro de Lanza, como los potentes artefactos de los Tuath Dé (el caldero, la lanza, la piedra y la espada), la hechicería de Nimue o la magia de Peretur. Todas impregnan el texto, de una forma casi invisible, en las sombras de realidades simples y detalladas que definen y establecen un escenario histórico complejo. Desde la perspectiva de una inocente e ingenua Peretur que sale de su aislamiento, se nos va revelando un mundo rico y diverso de fantasía medievalista. Sin embargo, ese velo de realidad, va cayendo a medida que Peretur, nuestra protagonista, crece y adquiere tanto experiencia como certeza sobre sus poderes.

Tiene la habilidad de escuchar en el viento para saber si hay alguien escondido, siente el movimiento en el suelo y puede predecir en que dirección le van a atacar. Griffith nos lleva a mirar detrás de la ilusión, un poco por encima de la realidad, en un escenario típico de las fantasías elevadas ambientadas en inmensos palacios. Sin embargo, la verdadera magia, está en las batallas. El trabajo de Griffith en estas es de lo más encomiable, donde nos muestra estas predicciones de una forma memorable, haciendo que seamos conscientes del talento de Peretur pero sin que esto lo haga del todo predecible el resultado. Nada que ver con la magia de Nimue, mucho más psíquica y psicodélica, pero igual de disfrutable. La magia siendo mágica, amigues.

Modernidad y tradición
Si hablaba antes de que uno de los aspectos más interesantes de Lanza es la prosa, el otro es, sin género de duda, la habilidad para incorporar la inclusión a la estructura básica de la historia sin expresarla en términos modernos. Y es que una de las cosas que mejor hace Lanza es como maneja la sexualidad. El viaje de Peretur es también su viaje para encontrar su propia identidad, y para ello, no carece de deseo o romance. Sin embargo, solo nos muestra su profunda incomodidad, su terrible inquietud y las extrañas relaciones que maneja. Sus relaciones con otras mujeres no se sienten vergonzosas, sólo algo privado, como su verdadera identidad. Descubrir su nombre es importante para ella, pero fue solo el comienzo de su viaje hacia la vida. La sexualidad es parte de ella, pero no la define. Es solo una parte de quien es, de su verdadero ser. Por eso digo que al final, Lanza es una leyenda universal. Todo ser humano ha emprendido este camino, el de encontrarse a sí mismo, y por eso Lanza, consigo conectar con cualquier tipo de lector y colectivo.

Reseña en el blog: https://boywithletters.blogspot.com/2...

[Dannii Elle · Rating 5 out of 5]

A girl leaves her mother and the safety of their cave home before she has even learned her own name. She ventures far, learning about her own magical strength and all she needs to fear in the world as she does so.

This was such an enchanting and exhilarating read, as full of as much mythology as it was whimsy. The characters remain unforgettable and I was charmed by them the entire time I was reading this. My main source of adoration stemmed from the rawness and authenticity that was infused into every page of this: the story felt like a bleeding, beating heart, alive for the reader to devour.

I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to the author, Nicola Griffith, and the publisher, Tor, for this opportunity.

[Meredith · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think even if you don't know much about Arthurian legends, this story of a person finding their way and coming into their own in the world is still magical and compelling.

[John Hamm · Rating 4 out of 5]

The poetic prose alone gives this book some stars! Spear is the tale of a cave dwelling girl's King Arthur-esque journey. It mixes the slow descriptive narrative scenes with fast paced action. It was a rather quick read, but still solid nonetheless. However, I feel there was something missing from the book that makes it the weaker of the Nebula finalists. I do wish her tale goes on more with other adventures though.

[Wanda Pedersen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Halloween Bingo 2022

It's becoming traditional for me to read a King Arthur retelling during Halloween Bingo. This brand new book appeared in my library holds just while I was organizing my reading list for that event and I had to find a way to shoehorn it in. My first exposure to Griffith's writing was her absolutely lovely novel Hild. I've been patiently (that's a lie BTW) waiting for the sequel, but I was willing to accept this as the next best thing.

This is a feminized, queered version of the legend of Sir Percival. Griffith's main character, Peretur, is a young woman, fathered by a member of the Tuatha de Dannan, mothered by a mortal woman with powers of her own, who resents being glamoured into happiness by the Tuatha. Griffith is a thorough researcher and she incorporates many of the legendary details of Percival's life into this character. Not that she slavishly follows the legend: she feels free to give us a new perspective on Percival, Merlyn, Nimue, and King Arthur's relationship with Excalibur.

In her notes, Griffith tells of her relationship with the legend: ”I first read Le Morte d'Arthur as a nine-year-old and fell headlong into the legend. Beneath its High Medieval trappings, I could smell the hidden iceberg of ancientness, practically taste the moors with menhirs looming from the mist…Even then I think I sensed that there was no true tale of Arthur and Camelot: the legend is and always has been mythic fanfic…” I found Arthur slightly later in life, a ripe old thirteen, through Vera Chapman's King Arthur's Daughter. I persist in preferring Chapman’s and Mary Stewart's versions over those that are more focused on details of war and battle. It's that “iceberg of ancientness" that grabbed me too and the romance of that holds me to this day. (My mother once remarked that I was more interested in prehistory than in historically documented societies, and in that she was right on the money.) Griffith takes an already attractive garment and embroiders it with fine colours and textures.

I used my Wind in the Willows wild card to convert the Fear the Drowning Deep square to A Grimm Tale to accommodate this book. As a retelling of a legend it fits nicely. Wind in the Willows requires a buddy read and I was pleasantly surprised when four other readers joined me. Two out of five of us loved it. The others commented on purple prose, so your mileage may vary. For me, this was more about the journey than the destination. It's like this with hikers too: some are focused on how far they can get and how fast. I am much more likely to linger, identifying flowers, observing bird behaviour, enjoying the spray from waterfalls. The world needs both kinds of people.

[Matt Quann · Rating 5 out of 5]

Some books find you at the right time.

Nicola Griffith's Spear landed just as the many books I had on the go failed to grab me. As most of my regular readers will know, I'm partial to the Tordotcom novella imprint. It's usually a safe bet that if the folks at Tor enjoy it, I'll have a good time. I was also interested in an Arthurian tale having recently loved Ishiguro's The Buried Giant and the disorienting The Green Knight film.

Even though the first few pages had me worrying about dizzyingly fancy prose, it only took a 10 page adjustment period before I was drawn in. Griffith writes evocative prose that made me feel like I was walking across a moss-capped hill, or facing down a menacing knight in red leather armour. Really, if the book had just seen Peretur running around the lands encountering friend, foe, and strange beastie it would have been enough for me.

Instead, Griffith introduces a Camelot/Caer Leon that is both familiar, yet new. Through Peretur's eyes we meet a court who has stumbled into the uncanny while going about their business of "bettering" the world. I expected Arthur and Lancelot (who go here by the old Welsh spellings) to play a much larger role, but instead got something quite different. Really, the story is more concerned with Peretur finding her place in the world, which also includes a hefty dose of magical genealogy.

I was reminded of a few novels while reading this one. One of my more recently read, The Song of Achilles, came to mind for it's collision of mythology, queerness, and excellent retelling. Though the thought seems obvious, both the leads in Spear and She Who Became the Sun are women living as men with fierce determination and resilience. It's fine company to be in, really.

This one is easily recommendable to anyone craving anything like the aforementioned novels or, like me, someone looking for a literary palate cleanser.

[Sunny Lu · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5! Amazing lesbian retelling of Arthurian legend 💚💚💚💚

[C.L. Clark · Rating 5 out of 5]

Perfect.

[Holly Hearts Books · Rating 3 out of 5]

*3.5
Full review to come on my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/hollyheartsbooks

[DivaDiane SM · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nicola Griffiths is one of my auto-read authors nowadays, so I was excited to receive the ARC from Netgalley, TOR.com and Griffith in exchange for an honest review, which I am more than happy to give. I actually decided to listen to the audio, which I borrowed from the library, read by the author instead of the ARC text, because I have very little time for eye-reading these days. However, I am going to purchase the hardcover, because I loved it so much and love Griffith"s writing so much I want her to benefit financially as well.

The prose is gorgeous, as I've come to expect from Griffith, and is one of the attractions for me. The story is theoretically one we all know, but the main action portion of the story takes place in a relatively short period of time after Arthur has become King and attained the sword. What is interesting about Spear is the main character is Peretur/Parcival, who is actually female and gay. It is not the main point of this story but it adds another layer of meaning and gives Peretur some fascinating motivations. There are some other wonderful bits that are fleshed out of the main legend, which I just loved. And yet, this book is not long. I wish it were longer, I could've read much more about Peretur and the whole company with King Arthur and the other characters we know.

The audio is read by Nicola Griffith and she has a wonderful voice for this type of legend. You can hear the love in her voice for the story and characters. There is an afterward that was not included in the audio book I had though, which explains her connection to the story and her research, all lovingly and diligently done.

[Julie · Rating 3 out of 5]

An enjoyable re-imagining of the King Arthur legend with gender fluid characters.

[Ellie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a stunning queer reimagining of the stories about King Arthur and his knights. It's a short standalone fantasy that's richly drawn and imaginative. The writing is excellent though I found my knowledge of Arthurian legends severely lacking. I appreciate the author's notes at the end where she explains the background of this story.

The typical hero journey but with a twist. Violence and some dark magic but I loved how it was balanced with the good deeds of the MC - caring for others, nurturing, being kind.

[John Gilbert · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was fun, another take on the legend of King Arthur through the eyes of Peretur, a hero/heroine with magical powers. Well worth the adventure, 4 stars.

[Danika at The Lesbrary · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading Nicola Griffith’s books feels like an intellectual expansion for me: it’s clear how carefully she considers her words and how deeply the setting is researched. While that can feel like a barrier to get into it, it also means that there is so much depth and richness to the story, which more than makes up for me stumbling through the first chapter or so.

This is one of the few books I’ve ever read that made me gasp out loud as I read it. I’m not usually an expressive reader, so that was a surprise. This novella is precisely plotted, both building up an expansive world and mythology while moving through a lean story that deserves its own spot among the most renowned Arthur legends. It feels timeless, but also has a depth that makes these people feel real and relatable.

I enjoyed reading the afterword, where the author both lays out her substantial research into the setting while also delighting in being able to create a mishmash of many different Arthur stories–with her own queer twist, of course. She describes how this is the great tradition of Arthur stories: they are all essentially fan fiction, remixing the versions that came before. Though Griffith borrows elements from many other stories, this narrative stands alone, feeling cohesive and layered, even if you (like me) don’t recognize the references or inspirations. (Oh, and I didn’t even mention the handful of gorgeous illustrations throughout!)

This is a small book that packs a big punch, and I was surprised how moved I was by the love story, considering that romance didn’t play much of a role for the first section of the book. I am definitely now on board for anything Griffith writes, and I can’t wait to explore her backlist. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just read her Writer’s Manifesto, and I’ll be off fanning my face for a bit.

Full review at the Lesbrary.

[Bibliotecario De Arbelon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nicola Griffith nos presenta en Lanza una reinterpretación del mito artúrico. Ese mito del que todos conocemos los conceptos básicos (o eso me atreviría a afirmar). Pero Lanza no solo es eso si no que va mucho más allá.

Lanza nos cuenta la historia de Peretur, que ha crecido aislada del mundo junto a su madre, pero ella sueña con convertirse en uno de los caballeros del rey Artos y desea escapar de la protección de su madre. Así que, finalmente, emprende su ansiado viaje en busca de Caer Leon y el rey Artos.

Con esa premisa, Nicola Griffith nos cuenta el viaje plagado de aventuras, gestas y amoríos de Peretur. Pero también nos relata (y con una prosa magnífica) el viaje de autodescubrimiento de Peretur, de quien es ella, de como se siente y de quien quiere ser.

He disfrutado de la reinterpretación que ha hecho la autora de los mitos artúricos que si bien tiene los elementos básicos, se aleja de ellos para contar una historia nueva y refrescante, que aborda la identidad y la sexualidad con total naturalidad.

Si bien he disfrutado de todos sus elementos (personajes, ambientación, estilo...) la trama y el conflicto se me han quedado algo cortos. Por lo demás, una novela corta excelente.

[YouKneeK · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is very short at under 200 pages, but it took me forever to read it. It wasn’t bad, and there were things I liked, but for some reason it just didn’t hold my interest at all.

I think I was most interested during the beginning, when I had absolutely no idea what this story was about. We’re introduced to a young girl with no name, who lives with her somewhat crazy mother in a cave in the middle of nowhere. She ventures further from her home in her explorations, she can communicate with animals, she observes people from hiding and sometimes does them small favors, and she seems to have special abilities. Something is calling to her, and she eventually leaves her home to search out her destiny.

I was pretty far into the story before I realized what it was based on. I doubt most people would consider it a spoiler, but this book is so short anyway that I’m reluctant to reveal it and possibly ruin a surprise for someone. It wasn’t until the point where Nimuë was first mentioned that I realized this story was based on Arthurian legend. As soon as I saw that name, some of the other character names flashed back through my head and I was like, “Oh… duh.” My knowledge of Arthurian legend isn’t great, and it wasn’t until I skimmed the author’s notes at the end that I learned who the main character, Peretur, was supposed to be.

This is a non-traditional retelling of… the thing in my spoiler tags. I suspect a lot of it went over my head anyway, but I did find the author’s choices that I recognized to be interesting. I was relieved that the thing I most associate with these retellings and thoroughly dread (the love triangle between Arthur, Gwen, and Lance) played very little role in the story and wasn’t a source of drama.

I liked the main character and was moderately interested as more of her back story was revealed, and there was nothing about the story that I found unpleasant to read, but for some reason there just wasn’t anything that gripped me or helped propel me toward the end.

I’m rating this at 2.5 stars and rounding up to 3 for Goodreads.

[Andreas · Rating 5 out of 5]

Synopsis: The story follows the coming-of-age of a nameless girl becoming a fierce warrior and companion of king Arthur. She is a child of two worlds, the Irish Tuatha Dé Dannan with their magic on the one side and the Arthurian companions on the threshold to Christianity on the other side.

Her mother Elen stole one of the Irish Tuatha Dé Dananns’ famous treasures, Dagda’s Cauldron, as a revenge and payment for getting kidnapped and raped. To protect both herself and her daughter, she had to hide in the Welsh wilderness and surround their cave with mighty geas magic. As the story starts, they use the magic cauldron as a plain normal cooking bowl, eating every day from it. The girl has got no name, because names give magical leverage, but her mother calls her Tal for “payment”.

The other world, yet unknown to her, is the court of king Arthur where she wants to become one of his companions, disguised as a (male) knight.

Just before leaving, the yet unnamed girl asks her mother for her name (please note how she uses singular-They in the following internal monologue):

A name, she thinks, is what makes a person who they are. A name is how they know themself.

Unwillingly, her mother gives up the protection of having no name, and she is known as Peretur.

Arthur’s companions and Arthur himself don’t welcome her with open arms, because they feel something uncanny about her, and she doesn’t reveal her parents to them. She has to prove herself as a protector of the farmers, gets rid of bandits, faces many trials, and finally defeats the Red Knight. Her chosen weapon are two spears which she found on the way.

Arthur’s companions are fully convinced now, but Arthur himself needs yet another great deed to accept her: His wife can’t become children, and she needs to be healed by drinking from the Holy Grail. Peretur knows exactly where it is – back in her mother’s cave!

Review: Now, look at this awesome cover by Hugo winner Rovina Cai! She captured the novel’s essence perfectly – there’s the magical cauldron as a hanging bowl, the red rider, a wooded thicket, and a wooden fort wall. Also, the typescript resembles those early medieval manuscripts. But wait, there are more of those great illustrations coming, as one can see at Tor.com. Those illustrations are yet another reason to get the hardcover edition!

I didn’t go unprepared into this novel, already knew that it is set in 6th century, embracing magic and the Arthurian legends. The first 20% of the novel really got me involved, it was pure immersion, in the same narration style as Hild.

The magic is not the fireball wielding one, but a far more soft version. It’s the magic of knowing, feeling, which makes Peretur understand why the horses are nervous or how her foe will react. Or small thinks, like guiding lost sheep to better places:

She was smiling to herself about the foolish old sheep, and sending it news of where it might find tender grass suitable for its mouth.

Griffith is a big fan of Arthurian legends, and it shows. She did a genius cover by combining Irish mythology with the Arthurian: all four treasures of the Tuatha Dé find their way into this story. Of course, there is the sword Excalibur, addressed with its Welsh name Caledfwylch which stuck in the Stone of Fal. The Holy Grail is combined with Dagda’s Cauldran in an absolutely fascinating way. and finally the Spear of Lugh also appears. You won’t miss anything Arthurian, as the companions are all around, including the Lady of the Lake and Myrddyn/Merlin.

This integration of two legendary settings doesn’t hinder Griffith at all to also include a modern touch of storytelling. First of all, her protagonist Peretur is a woman disguising as a knight. She is also a lesbian, enjoying some juicy encounters not only with farmer wives. Lancelot is great on horse, but is disabled with a lame leg, and he is a people of colour with his Spanish origins. As Griffith explains in her longer afterword:

Crips, queers, woman and other genders, and people of colour are an integral part of the history of Britain.

Enough praise, you really should buy and read this book!

[Misha · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am all in for the queering of the classics. In this case, this is a queer retelling of Arthurian myth and legend. We meet a young girl raised in seclusion in a cave with her mother. She goes unnamed, her mother's paranoia part of the wild landscape she ranges, until she is ready to strike out into the world her mother has kept her from. Peretur, the name her mother finally relinquishes to her, is drawn to battle, to adventure, and to valor. She seeks Caer Leon and the court of Artos, but her path is not a clear or direct one. Griffith's prose is almost liquid, moving with an effortless intensity throughout the telling. Much like in Hild, I felt swept into another world through the language alone and the compelling mystery of the main character, a swarthy girl mistaken for a man whose strength on the battlefield is uncanny. Her exploration of her sexuality is also central to the story. This breathes new dimension into the Arthurian landscape and I finished hoping we will hear more of Peretur.

[bookstories_travels🪐 · Rating 4 out of 5]

Si me conocéis desde hace algún tiempo y os habéis tomado la molestia de leer alguna de mis tochos de reseñas (si lo habéis hecho, desde aquí, gracias), ya sabréis por algún que otro comentario que uno de mis imperios romanos literarios es el ciclo artúrico. Las historias del rey Arturo y sus nobles caballeros de la Tabla Redonda me han acompañado desde que tengo uso de razón, sin importar qué tipo de versión sea con la que me haya encontrado. Algo que siempre me ha llamado mucho la atención es cómo, desde los tiempos del autor Chrétien de Troyes, se relacionan estas leyendas con un sustrato típicamente medieval. La idea que tenemos de Camelot es la de heroicas justas en las que caballeros de brillante armadura pelean ante la mirada de nobles con ricos ropajes y damas de complicados y trenzados peinados, engalanadas con sombreros cónicos y mangas vaporosas; castillos perfectos y coquetamente edificados; lujosos y elegantes banquetes acompañados de la música de los laúdes; y galantes héroes que siguen un elegante y rígido código caballeresco y consagran su vida a la búsqueda de gestas y a salvar a los más desfavorecidos y a las damas en apuros de brujas, dragones y todo tipo de maldiciones.

Pero lo cierto es que las leyendas del mundo artúrico encontraron su punto álgido en el mundo medieval, momento en el que este corpus empezó a extenderse y a convertirse en algo popular, con mil y una vertientes que explican los diferentes mitos y versiones que podemos encontrar. No obstante, no se puede olvidar que el sustrato artúrico en realidad es incluso más antiguo. Para empezar, se cree que el propio rey Arturo parte de un oscuro y prácticamente desconocido personaje que vivió en el siglo V y que sirvió como base para los trabajos que, a principios del siglo XII, escribió el clérigo Geoffrey de Monmouth, y donde ya aparecen las leyendas que empezaron a institucionalizar a Merlín y al rey Arturo. Leyendas que tienen sus orígenes en los últimos años de la invasión romana en Gran Bretaña, a principios de la Edad Media, conocida como “oscura”, que duró entre los siglos V y VI, y que se entrelazan con la mitología y la historia céltica de los pueblos druidas que habitaban y convivían con los invasores venidos de Italia.

Este fermento céltico e histórico es el que podemos encontrar en una de mis novelas favoritas, que recomiendo encarecidamente pese a lo criticable que pueda ser su autora, Marion Zimmer Bradley. “Las Nieblas de Avalon” siempre será uno de mis libros favoritos de fantasía, por la manera en que (como ya os digo) el espíritu celta original del ciclo artúrico y la lucha entre la antigua religión y el cristianismo se solapan para mantener la fidelidad del corpus artúrico y dar un papel fundamental a las mujeres que aparecen mencionadas en estas historias. Creo que es por esto último por lo que más me gusta esta trilogía: por la manera en que da voz, personalidad y motivaciones creíbles a personajes como Morgana, Ginebra, Vivienne, Igraine, Morgause o Niniane, y las aleja de ser meros roles de la feminidad en los estandartes medievales. No son simplemente la bruja buena o mala según las convenciones literarias del momento (la literatura medieval podía ser bastante acomodaticia), la esposa adúltera, la amante trágica o la sibilina hechicera. Son personajes de carne y hueso que se ponen en primera plana en una historia marcada, desde sus orígenes y en todas sus versiones, por la guerra y los estándares masculinos. No sé si será verdad o no, pero para mí fue la primera referencia dentro del ciclo artúrico con un claro interés por sus figuras femeninas. Y eso es algo que siempre me parecerá muy necesario e interesante en cualquier tipo de mitología o cuerpo literario con cierta tradición e historia: dar voz a sus caracteres femeninos y verlos desde nuevas perspectivas que se alejen de los cánones tradicionales, que aborden todo tipo de formas de pensar y vivir y que puedan acercarnos lo antiguo a los tiempos actuales. Las historias originales siempre estarán a nuestro alcance y no tienen por qué desaparecer porque aparezcan nuevas visiones de una misma historia.

De ahí que el libro que voy a reseñar ahora, “Lanza”, me haya llamado tanto la atención desde que fue publicado por el sello editorial Duermevela, por su propuesta feminista y queer del mundo artúrico a través de uno de sus personajes más relevantes. Perceval, Parsifal, Parzival o Percival, entre otros nombres, conocido en este caso como Peretur, es uno de los caballeros artúricos con más tradición y que, a lo largo del tiempo, ha ganado más peso en este corpus hasta convertirse en uno de sus pilares fundamentales. Es conocido como el héroe que casi se acerca al Grial, que se consagra a su búsqueda cuando falla en actuar cuando debe hacerlo, y como protagonista de algunos de los poemas, romances y narraciones más interesantes de esta mitología. Tiene todo el sentido que en esta ocasión se juegue con este personaje al presentarlo como una mujer joven, valiente y decidida, dispuesta a cumplir sus objetivos. Percival, Parsifal o Peretur (como quieras conocerlo y llamarle) siempre ha sido uno de los caracteres más humanos de la Tabla Redonda y más proclive a sufrir todo tipo de reinterpretaciones y reescrituras, y eso siempre da mucho juego.

En un bosque, protegidas por hechizos y las hojas de los árboles, una madre y su hija se esconden del mundo. La madre espera que jamás las encuentren, pero la niña no puede parar de moverse, de soñar y de ambicionar. La niña no tiene nombre, solo es la bendición de su madre, y crecerá salvaje e indómita, midiendo poco a poco sus fuerzas contra la propia naturaleza para poder aprender y ejercitarse. Su espíritu no parará hasta que consiga que su madre le dé un nombre que la reconozca: Peretur, “Lanza Imperecedera”. Y Peretur partirá del único hogar que ha conocido, dispuesta a medirse a sí misma para conseguir ser uno de los caballeros de la corte del rey Artos. En el camino se batirá en duelo con caballeros oscuros, derrotará a bandidos, realizará todo tipo de gestas, tomará rehenes y conquistará doncellas. Pero, sin embargo, un peligro siempre la ha perseguido y, al llegar a la corte de Artos, este tomará forma y la pondrá frente a su destino.

Lo dicho: me gustan mucho las historias de mujeres fuertes y hechas a sí mismas, que no dudan en romper con todo lo establecido y van un paso más allá de lo que siempre ha sido tradición; que son perfectamente capaces de ponerse el mundo por montera y luchar por sus sueños, y pelear en igualdad de condiciones en un mundo oscuro de hombres. Y de eso “Lanza” rezuma a borbotones. Nicola Griffith nos ofrece una historia clásica de un caballero que se enfrasca en una tradicional “queste”, uno de los motivos más típicos de la literatura fantástica y que todos conocemos: el del héroe que parte de su casa en pos de una misión y vuelve después de haber pasado muchas y terribles pruebas, tras haber aprendido, haberse visto obligado a usar toda su inteligencia y fuerza y, sobre todo, haber sufrido. Porque en una buena “queste” el héroe pasa por todo tipo de dificultades y tiene que ponerse a prueba. Asimismo, cuando cerramos el libro sabemos que este personaje ya no es el mismo que conocimos al inicio de la historia. Y él también lo sabe. O, en este caso, ella. La gracia de esta novela es que no nos encontramos con un héroe masculino, sino con una mujer que se viste de hombre y asume perfectamente este nuevo rol con comodidad. Y que, además, al cerrar “Lanza”, al lector no le da la impresión de que esté leyendo la última historia de Peretur, sino uno de sus primeros pasos en su camino hacia la adultez y la realización personal, un episodio importante de su iniciación en el mundo y en lo que es la vida. De ahí que “Lanza” se sienta como una novela de iniciación o coming-of-age medieval y fantástica abierta, como solo puede serlo la vida: un punto y aparte en una biografía sazonada de luchas, romances y magias, una promesa que enternece por lo reconocible y, a la vez, original que resulta todo. Todo esto con el añadido de que Peretur es un personaje que se mueve perfectamente en la frontera de lo femenino y lo masculino en su búsqueda de su lugar en el mundo, creando un espacio personal para sí misma, único e inclasificable, como lo es ella, alejado de cualquier tipo de estereotipo.

Con apenas 220 páginas, de las cuales las últimas son un posfacio literario sobre el mundo y la representación queer en la literatura y la historia medieval, además de notas por parte de la autora sobre los orígenes de su trabajo, de la literatura de la Tabla Redonda y del mundo artúrico, “Lanza” es una lectura corta y rápida. Pero aun así, eso no significa que el ritmo narrativo vaya a todo motor, sino que la autora se toma su tiempo para recrearse en los detalles, en la ambientación, en los sentimientos de su protagonista y en el mundo en el que tienen lugar los acontecimientos del texto. De ahí que “Lanza” sea una novela muy intimista a la par que cuenta una historia de magia y aventuras. Hay muchas descripciones y muchos momentos centrados en los pensamientos y emociones de Peretur, pero, al ser la novela tan breve, tienen la duración justa y no se hacen pesados, integrándose perfectamente en la acción narrativa.
La prosa de Griffith es poderosa y poética: crea una atmósfera de cuento de hadas con un toque oscuro y maravilloso que se siente como pasear por una canción antigua, algo que hipnotiza y da la impresión de estar mecido por el viento. Su pluma es hermosa y profundamente atmosférica, logra que notes cómo la naturaleza es un elemento más de la historia, uno que envuelve a Peretur y, con ella, al lector en un abrazo. Esto ayuda a construir una ambientación que es, quizá, lo mejor de la obra: la manera en que te lleva a un mundo de magia y posibilidades, en el que el bosque es tan maravilloso como peligroso, un lugar donde ponerse a prueba y sacar lo mejor de uno mismo, que contrasta con la oscuridad pétrea y rígida de las fortalezas medievales y con el mundo vibrante y encantadoramente normal de los pueblos y haciendas donde la protagonista va pernoctando durante su trayectoria. Todo esto hunde las raíces de la historia en la mitología céltica, en sus dioses y en sus cuentos. Me ha gustado mucho el detalle de que se reconozca la deuda del mundo artúrico con esta tradición al darle en esta ocasión un peso fundamental y convertirla en parte de la propia trama de la novela. Todo este conjunto hace que la historia se sienta como algo antiguo, pero actualizado de una manera muy inteligente para el público moderno, y eso es siempre de agradecer.

De todas maneras, como ya os he dicho antes, tenía muchas ganas de leer “Lanza” y muchas expectativas puestas en esta lectura. Y, a grandes rasgos, las ha cumplido, ya que me ha entretenido y me ha encantado cómo está escrita y esta nueva perspectiva de las historias artúricas. Pero, a la vez, he notado pequeños detalles que han hecho que no haya terminado de encajar del todo como yo, al menos, esperaba. Ya sé que antes, en la reseña, he comentado que una de las gracias de “Lanza” es que te deja con la impresión de un capítulo abierto, y eso puede gustarte si sabes que la historia va a tener continuación. Pero, al ser una novela autoconclusiva y no formar parte de una saga, también puede frustrar. Aunque todo queda bastante bien redondeado en sus últimas páginas, hay algunos hilos sueltos que quedan a decisión del lector y que quizá nunca se cierren. Además, también me ha faltado concreción en la inmensa mayoría de los personajes: he cerrado el volumen con la sensación de haberlos conocido muy de pasada, ya que me han resultado fríos y no he terminado de conectar con ellos, me ha faltado mucho que de desarrollen todos mucho más. De hecho, siento que a “Lanza” le faltan varias páginas para que así la historia pueda desplegarse más y mejor, creo que el que sea una lectura tan corta la encorseta un poco. Son pequeñas cosas que, en otra lectura, no habrían tenido tanta importancia, pero en un caso como “Lanza”, que pensaba que iba a ser una lectura que me iba a encantar y a convertirse en una de mis favoritas de la vida, me han decepcionado más por las expectativas que me había creado antes de empezar. Aun así, han opacado solo en parte una lectura que sí me ha gustado mucho y que me parece muy necesaria. Porque las historias, los mitos y las leyendas, por más años e importancia que tengan en la literatura y la cultura, siempre pueden aportarnos nuevas cosas y adaptarse a los nuevos tiempos.