Morgan enters her villain era

Although the myth of King Arthur is centuries old, modern readers still can’t seem to get enough of it. Whether it’s stories that look at familiar characters from new perspectives, rehash familiar plot lines in different contexts, or simply focus on lesser-known aspects of the legend or the characters at its center, there are clearly still plenty of worthwhile sources to explore in this ancient saga. (Hell, this isn’t even the first Arthur-related book we’ve read.) checked this week.)

Sophie Keetchs Morgan is my name clearly falls into the first category, a passionate, angry and extremely feminist reconsideration about the origins of the famous Arthurian sorceress Morgan Le Fay. Depicted by turns as a healer, witch, seductress and monster (depending on who you read), she is one of the original legend’s most complicated and frequently confusing characters. In her debut novel, Keetch happily accepted the challenge of creating a believable thread between the many different versions of Morgan’s identity to create a coherent and compelling whole. And now in the sequel Le Fayshe sets out on the path to her destiny – which promises both greatness and downfall.

Middle books are notoriously difficult things, but Le Fay-How Morgan is my name before that – manages to feel contained and complete within herself. As Morgan slowly gains power, both magical and political, she suffers under the rules of a society that all too often tells her she must somehow make herself smaller in order to survive. Arthur’s Britain is based on ideas of chivalry, purity, and chastity, overlaid with a specifically Christian morality that Morgan finds oppressive. She still longs for the freedom and independence to determine her own future, to do everything from studying magic to raising her son as she sees fit (with or without the influence of his royal father).

The story begins with Morgan firmly ensconced in Camelot, serving as an often-frustrated advisor and confidante to her brother, the king, even as she resents his inability to break free from Merlin’s influence. Under her brother’s protection, she and her son Yvain are safe from her abusive husband Urien, though Arthur’s influence does not extend far enough to override things like paternal rights or the religious laws against adultery. She frequently clashes with the king over his trust in Merlin and his prophecies, with his wife over her larger role at court and the duties she is expected to fulfill there as a woman, and with the famous wizard himself over the limits of her magic. The unexpected return of an old flame throws her life even further into chaos, and although she takes crucial steps to unlock the true extent of her magical abilities – through the guidance of both Merlin himself and his fairy companion Ninianne – it’s unclear how far she’s willing to go to wield them on her own terms. Until it’s not.

In this sequel, the anger that seems to be simmering under Morgan’s skin is directed outward: toward the famous Merlin, whose power she envies and whose intrigues she loathes; toward Guinevere, who tries to control her influence at court and with the king; and even toward Arthur himself, who adheres to many of the patriarchal customs that Morgan himself despises, and who is reluctant to give her the place on his council that she believes she deserves. Although she grows ever more powerful, Morgan also grows ever more stubborn—she resents those who don’t see the world as she does, freaks out over making mistakes she forgives herself for, and makes rash decisions driven by little more than her desire to either show off or punish someone else. This Morgan is frequently petty and cruel, occasionally unsympathetic but never entirely unsympathetic.

Because the best thing about Keetch’s story is that there are no real villains here. (Or heroes, for that matter.) Just deeply human people making the best choices they can and being forced to deal with the consequences. Even Merlin’s seemingly grotesque actions, which include trying to usurp Morgan’s power and success for himself, can be seen as an attempt to protect the legacy of Camelot and the young king whose throne he fought so hard to secure.

The growing tension between Morgan and Arthur is built in such a way that the blame for their ultimate break is placed on both shoulders, and his growing paranoia is mirrored by her increasing intransigence. The slow breakdown of their relationship creates a sense of inevitability, made all the stronger by the fact that it is easy to see so many small moments where things could have turned out differently for both of them. Instead, everything is broken in a way that seems impossible to fix.

Given the title of this novel, it’s probably no spoiler to say that Morgan officially takes the title of “Le Fay” before this part of the story ends, turning against her brother and the Camelot he built. The reasons for this are complex, a mix of deeply personal tragedy, escalating betrayal, and a general sense of anger at being expected to make sacrifices in the name of a kingdom she no longer fully believes in. Her anger is both deeply understandable and, at times, extremely frustrating, as Morgan is in many ways the architect of her own unhappiness, thanks to her frequent unwillingness to compromise and her self-righteous need to see her views validated, especially by those she believes have wronged her. But her refusal to accept this – or become— everything else she does to please others or to uphold a system she doesn’t believe in is always admirable, and the impossible situations she repeatedly finds herself in make her a moving and often sympathetic heroine.

Keetch’s prose is consistently rich and lyrical, as is her commitment to portraying Morgan (rightly or wrongly) as always full-bodied and without regret. herself. After centuries of stories in which she has been treated as nothing more than an accessory to the story of the men around her, this is a refreshing and necessary change. “Morgan le Fay. That has a certain ring to it,” Morgan herself says towards the end of the novel. And she’s right. It really is.

Le Fay Is Now available everywhere where books are sold.

Lacy Baugher Milas is a book editor at Paste Magazine, but she loves to speculate on all sorts of things pop culture. You can find her on Twitter @LacyMB