Anya Seton (1904-1990) is famous as the author of several historical novels, some of which are still considered classics. Avalon, published in 1965, is not among that group. It is pretty readable, but this reader found it rather far-fetched, in two different senses – it has a very wide stage of action, and the plot is a tad implausible.

The story starts with Prince Rumon, a 10^th Century Provencal prince related to the English royal family, getting shipwrecked on the Cornish coast on his way to see King Edgar. There he comes upon a dying woman, who places her daughter Merewyn his care and asks him to convey her to her aunt, a nun. Rumon is somewhat annoyed at the obligation, but he’s given his word. He does not tell Merewyn the secret her mother confided – that she is not, as she has been told, the daughter of a Cornish nobleman, a descendant of King Arthur. She is in fact the issue of rape by a Viking raider.

Merewyn promptly falls in love with the handsome Rumon, but he does not reciprocate. His mind is not on women, but on his dream of finding the mysterious, legendary Isle of Avalon. After unloading Merewyn with her aunt in the convent, he goes on to the king’s court, where he falls under the spell of Alfrida, Queen of England. Under that manipulative woman’s spell, Rumon makes some disastrous decisions, even as he and Merewyn, whenever they encounter one another, carry on a ping-pong affair of the heart, each one hot when the other is cold. The story then goes on to concentrate on Merewyn, whose path takes her as far as Iceland and Greenland.

Avalon almost works as a great story, I think, but not quite. It starts out seeming to center on Rumon’s search for Avalon, and on his and Merewyn’s convulsive love affair. But although those themes are never entirely forgotten, other concerns upstage them. The book’s conclusion attempts to bring it all together, in a Sigrid Undset-like scene of confession and reconciliation, but it left this reader feeling a bit let down. (Actually, it was too much like real life, as opposed to romance, I suppose.)

Anya Seton was admired for her research, and I was generally impressed in that regard – although she gave Vikings horned helmets (!). I know historians knew better by 1965, so there’s really no excuse for that. Her portrayal of King Ethelred the Unready is (it seems to me) a little unjust. She treats him as cowardly, not very bright, and sexually ambiguous. I believe he was a fairly capable king (he had a very long reign, something hard for fools to carry out in those days) in an impossible situation. The only character in this book who also appears in one of my books (Queen Emma, wife of Ethelred) is very different from the way I portrayed her – though I can’t claim any scholarly authority on the issue.

Avalon is a very long novel, and worth reading for those who (like me) are interested in the period. But it’s not a great epic romance. The Christian elements were handled pretty well, though.