Aubrey Beardsley – How Queen Guenever Rode on Maying

“SO it befell in the month of May, Queen Guenever called unto her knights of the Table Round; and she gave them warning that early upon the morrow she would ride a-Maying into woods and fields beside Westminster. “

Aubrey Beardsley, How Queen Guenever Rode on Maying, 1893-4

Aubrey Beardsley’s pen and ink drawing “How Queen Guenever Rode on Maying” shows the Queen Guinevere and her two companions on horseback. The drawing is just one of many illustrations that Beardsley had made in 1893-94 for Sir Thomas Malory’s prose work “Le Mort d’Arthur” which revolves around the world of Arthurian legends. This particular illustration, of the Queen riding in the meadows around the castle, refers to this scene from the Book 19 chapter 1 of “Le Mort d’Arthur” and Malory writes: “SO it befell in the month of May, Queen Guenever called unto her knights of the Table Round; and she gave them warning that early upon the morrow she would ride a-Maying into woods and fields beside Westminster. And I warn you that there be none of you but that he be well horsed, and that ye all be clothed in green, outher in silk outher in cloth; and I shall bring with me ten ladies, and every knight shall have a lady behind him, and everyknight shall have a squire and two yeomen; and I will that ye all be well horsed. So they made them ready in the freshest manner. … And so upon the morn they took their horses with the queen, and rode a-Maying in woods and meadows as it pleased them, in great joy and delights; for the queen had cast to have been again with King Arthur at the furthest by ten of the clock, and so was that time her purpose.” Still, the idyllic mood of the sunny May day horseriding turns sour when Sir Meliagrance, who was lusting after the Queen, took it as an opportunity to kidnap her and have her for himself at last. But that is another story…

In this particular illustration by Beardsley, the Queen and her entourage are seen enjoying a sunny May day, out and about, birds are singing and the flowers are blooming. I am assuming all this, of course, because there is nothing sunny and blooming about Beardsley’s black and white illustration. As is typical for all of Beardsley’s illustrations for Arthurian legends, the scene is reduced to its main elements and the figures are stylised and attenuated, yet very delicate looking, and the knights are always depicted as effeminate, wistful and weak. The illustration is spread out on two pages, giving Beardsley more space to develop the scene. On the left side we have the Queen Guinevere and her companions, the number of which was reduced from ten in Malory’s description to only two in Beardsley, there just wouldn’t be space for more without the illustration looking cluttered and it is not even necessary as we can get the point. On the right side is the castle from which they have just departed into nature. Some parts are exceedinly detailed, such as the leaves on the trees in the foreground, and yet the meadow is just a black space. The nature seems dead and frozen in all of Beardsley’s illustrations.

Medieval themes and especially the tales from the Arthurian legends were all the rage for Victorian artists and especially for the Pre-Raphaelite, one of whom, Burne-Jones was, at first, a sort of a protege for the young and talented Beardsley, but he changed his opinion after seeing Beardsley’s illustrations for “Le Morte D’Arthur”. Their friendship gradually cooled down and he later even spoke with anger of the ungrateful manner in which Beardsley radically departed from his influence and from his precious Pre-Raphaelite ideals. For the Pre-Raphaelites such as William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones “Le Mort d’Arthur” was little short of a sacred book. But provocation was Beardsley’s oxygen, it seems, and it is certainly natural for a younger generation or artists to rebel against the older generation. Still, Beardsley’s depiction of the scenes from Arthurian legends with the emphasis being not on romance, chastity and chivalry, but rather on the more nihilistic, sensuous and doomed aspects of it, is less a reflection of Beardsley’s uniqueness and more a reflection of the decadence of the fin-de-siecle art in general; nothing was sacred and ideals were there only to be destroyed.