On Earth there’s simply not
a more congenial spot
for happy-ever-aftering than
here in Camelot.
– Broadway’s King Arthur, convincing Guinevere of the superiority of his kingdom in Camelot1
Steinbeck and his sister (and Broadway) had, of course, been influenced by the Norman Arthurian “Romances,” the first of which was written around 1136. According to the Wikipedia entry on its author, Geoffrey of Monmouth (“Geoffrey”)2:
In 2017, Miles Russell published the initial results of the Lost Voices of Celtic Britain Project established at Bournemouth University.[24] The main conclusion of the study was that the Historia Regum Britanniae appears to contain significant demonstrable archaeological fact, despite being compiled many centuries after the period that it describes. Geoffrey seems to have brought together a disparate mass of source material, including folklore, chronicles, king-lists, dynastic tables, oral tales, and bardic praise poems, some of which was irrevocably garbled or corrupted. In doing so, Geoffrey exercised considerable editorial control, massaging the information and smoothing out apparent inconsistencies in order to create a single grand narrative which fed into the preferred narrative of the Norman rulers of Britain.
So Geoffrey cobbled these texts together for his “history” to promote the idea that Norman and English aristocracy were both descended from Trojan blood. Thus, for the propagandist, it was perfectly within Norman rights to conquer the island and reign over its inhabitants. Later “romances” embellished Geoffrey’s already dubious stories, making Arthur weaker but “nicer”.
Women, in Geoffrey’s text, are primarily vessels for transmitting this “blood” to new generations. Arthur, in these first stories, conquers Scandinavia and Gaul. Then, when the Roman Emperor demands tribute, he attempts to conquer this empire also. In the midst of this attempt, he finds that his queen, Guinevere, has betrayed him by “living out of wedlock”3 with his nephew, Mordred, who had taken his crown. In the ensuing battles, both Mordred and Arthur are killed, and Guinevere flees to a nunnery3b. Since she has no children by either partner, she is a scapegoat to explain why there was no tangible evidence to validate the aforementioned Trojan “rights.” Nevertheless, Geoffrey chronicles a “history” of the kings that succeeded Arthur, one that still ties these kings in some way to their “Trojan” roots. Although their stories were less epic than Arthur’s, however, there is little to no more proof of his narratives regarding them than that regarding Arthur.
I’ve written about the Welsh book, The Mabinogion4. Although there seems a “controversy” about which texts precede which, wouldn’t it make more sense to credit these tales as having been written (or, at least, transmitted orally) before those promoting the “rights” of their conqueror?
Following my Conquest-v-Sublimation theory, I re-examined the Welsh heroines in their stories. As in Demons, these heroines are more well-realized than those in their later counterparts. Rhiannon, a princess from a supernatural kingdom, refuses a marriage her father had arranged for her in favor of the mortal Pwyll, king of Dyfed. Although Gwawl, the man she had refused, tricks Pwyll into promising her hand in marriage to this original suitor, she gives Pwyll the tools and strategy to regain his bride and get Gwal’s promise not to take revenge for his humiliation. Unfortunately, revenge is delegated to others in Rhiannon’s supernatural realm. Her son, Pryderi, is kidnapped on the day of his birth, and her maids smear puppy blood on her to frame her with eating him. The boy’s kidnappers leave him at another Welsh kingdom, and Rhiannon doesn’t know for several years that he is alive. This is not even the end of her people’s revenge, which we will see soon.
The next story in The Mabinogion also concerns retribution against a woman. This time, the heroine, Branwen, does marry in accordance with the wishes of her family patriarch, Bendigeid Vran (“Bran”). Her half-brother, however, angered at not having been “consulted” in this betrothal, mutilates the horses of the court of her new husband. To quote my earlier summary5 of this brother’s outrages:
After causing a rift – one that his half-brother could only partially mend with extravagant gifts – Evnissyen joins his brothers to rescue their sister from the subsequent cruelty of her adopted court. He kills 200 men before burning Branwen’s son to death. Ultimately, little is left of either the country who’s [sic] sovereign Branwen had married or the army that had come to rescue her.
Pryderi is one of the kings who join in Branwen’s rescue (and he is one of the very few who survive.) These survivors enter a magical place where they do not perceive the passage of time. Although this serves to heal them, it means that Rhiannon does not see her son until 80 years after the war. Pryderi, after placing Bran’s head where he can alert his countrymen to French (Norman) attacks, returns and proposes that his mother wed Manawyddan6, a fellow survivor of the Irish war. Rhiannon is fortunately willing. But darkness soon descends on their kingdom, and, when the darkness is lifted, Dyfed has been destroyed.6b The survivors attempt to make a living through various trades, but their superior ability at these trades leads them to be threatened with murder – in four different places.6c On returning to Dyfed, Both Pryderi and Rhiannon are kidnapped, and can only return due to Manawyddan’s cunning.
Yet another woman in these legends is used and abused by her family. A magician, Gwydion, offers his sister, Arianrhod, as a laprest7 for a Welsh king. This offering is part of a bizarrely convoluted scheme, in which Gwydion manipulates the king using his fetishistic need to rest his feet on a young maiden’s lap. To prove her maidenhood, Arianrhod must jump over a magic wand, a jump which forces her to instantly give birth to twins, one of whom becomes the ruler of Wales after Gwydion tricks Pryderi into a battle in which Rhiannon’s son dies.
This blog’s “Power Bases and the New 8” entry connects Gwydion with Merlin. Putting these stories together reveals that Guinevere was a twisting of the Welsh stories of Rhiannon, Branwen, and Arianrhod in a familiar way.
I’m about halfway through Eden, and I’ve just finished reading Demons. Since I’ve given ample proof that the former is a conquest propagandist appropriation of the latter, I see no reason for reading any more of it. (Most of the rest is in the movie, which I’ve already watched.) I highly recommend Demons for my readers, and don’t want to spoil any more of it for them. I’ll return in a couple weeks with a new series. Meanwhile, I’ll leave the below clip, which encapsulates the “romantic” dumbing down strategy.
8
1 Alan Jay Lerner. Camelot (1960). You can find a clip of the Hollywood version of this song on this blog’s “Grower’s Kabbalah, Pt. 4,” an entry listing it as an “object of desire” used to appropriate the dreams of utopians.
2 Accessed 7/2/2026, 11:15 EST:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geoffrey_of_Monmouth#Historia_Regum_Britanniae
[24] Russell, Arthur and the Kings of Britain: The Historical Truth Behind the Myths pp. 297–300
3 Geoffrey of Monmouth. The History of the Kings of Britain. Translated by Lewis Thorpe, Penguin Classics (1966). (a) p. 257, b p. 259; on Internet Archive:
https://archive.org/details/bwb_O8-BVO-980/page/256/mode/2up?q=wedlock
Accessed 6/30/2026.
Full disclosure: I used Google AI to access the summary of Arthur’s conquests in this text.
Accessed 6/30/2026.
4 The link is to the results of a search for “Mabinogion” on my blog.
5 The link is to this blog’s entry, “Alternatives to ‘Cancel Culture,’ Part 7.”
6 I take it Rhiannon’s magical nature allows her to keep youthful enough to marry, when she must be about 100 years old by now. b This devastation could refer to the Romans’ having burnt the groves of the Druids in their effort to conquer Wales. c The link is to this blog’s entry, “Alternatives to ‘Cancel Culture,’ Part 6.”
7 The link is to The Free Dictionary’s (Encyclopedia) entry for Gwydion. Accessed 7/17/2026, 3:44 pm EST.
8 Turner Classic Movies. “Harold Hill Sings ‘Marian the Librarian’ (Clip) / The Music Man (1962) TCM” YouTube. Posted 5/18/2025. Accessed 7/28/2026.

