Le Morte D'Arthur can be read as an indictment of chivalry, even more so than as a showcase for it. The system drove Lancelot to a spell of insanity, which now we would call a "nervous breakdown." It spurred Arthur to commit more than one atrocious act. At last it caved in on itself and ended, in this book, in a general free-for-all bloodbath. This is my over-all impression, many years after I read the book.

I love Lancelot because, through all of the stilted language and magical thinking, it is obvious that he hated the system. All his life he loved one woman, who was the property of the king, and he never stopped trying to save her from Arthur's jealous wrath. Every knight who met him wanted to fight him, like the gunfighters in the movies about the Old West--everybody wanted a shot at the champion. Lancelot often went in disguise to keep from having to kill another knight. And when the Round Table cast uneasy glances at him when declaring Galahad the best knight of the world, Lancelot tactfully put them at ease. But by gosh, he was the best knight of the world, to me.

It may be inane and immature to love a fictional or mythical character. But I'm sure I'm not the only one who tumbles now and then.

If you love somebody, or some pet, who most likely never existed, I invite you to post it on your blog, and to tell why you love him or her.