#broceliande forest

[gawrkin]

I think I found the chapel Morgan built/attends Mass. Here

Anyway Catholic!Morgan FTW

[tiodolma]

The one that asked about Brittany again 👋, i live 30 miles away from that forest. I'll plan something soon, and i promise to share some pics with you 😉

WOOOOH! it's an adventure!

[scarlemwitch]

Été breton - Forêt de Brocéliande, France (2024)

Nikon, 35mm

[hecatt]

Brocéliande

Un de mes plus beaux souvenirs

Se promener en forêt avec en tête les légendes du Roi Arthur, de Merlin, des fées, Excalibur et des chevaliers de la table ronde …

Trouver cette connection avec la nature, profiter de la paix que nous offre cet endroit

Écouter le bruissement des feuilles, les cours d’eau et le chant des oiseaux

S’assoir à même le sol pour tenter d’effleurer un peu la magie de ces terres

Forêt de Brocéliande - Bretagne 💚

[bugfromsaturn]

Dahutane met in Brocéliande🌳

What a wonderful creature

🏰Château de Comper

[cicadawings]

x

[florentinv]

🌰☺️📷 #france #bretagne #bretagnetourisme #paimpont #paimpontforest #paimponttourisme #broceliande #broceliandeforest #broceliandetourisme #nature #naturephotography #naturelovers #naturelover #chestnut #forest #forestphotography #forestlovers #lightroom #hdr #instagood #photooftheday #picoftheday #instalike #autumn #roadtrip #trip #holiday #travel #travelphotography #instatravel (à Forêt de Paimpont) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmrSwWnseag/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[catherine-reznitchenko]

BROCELIANDE by Catherine Reznitchenko Via Flickr: www.catherine-reznitchenko.fr

[prosebushpatch]

this current wip has just been me spending more time doing shallow research about manuscripts in Old French for a single simile rather than writing

[lefresne]

A few decades ago the international Arthurian society conference was in Brittany and apparently they went to visit Broceliande (famous Arthurian forest) and got LOST for AGES. no time travelling portal was opened as far as I know

[we-are-knight]

Physically, I am at my desk in an office.

Mentally, I am lost in Broceliand forest.

[gawrkin]

Just want to imagine there's this group of fairies Guinevere belongs to and its called The Ladies of the Fountain/Spring...

[tiodolma]

I read the post you reblogged about Brittany. It's an entire region in France with multiple cities. Do you have any idea where exactly, i live there, and i would love to visit the castle...

wikipedia says it's called Paimpont Forest In Real Life!

Paimpont Forest (French: Forêt de Paimpont, Breton: Koad Pempont), also known as Brocéliande Forest (French: Forêt de Brocéliande), is a temperate forest located around the village of Paimpont in the department of Ille-et-Vilaine in Brittany, France. Covering an area of 9,000 hectares, it is part of a larger forest area that covers the neighboring departments of Morbihan and Côtes-d'Armor. It contains the castles Château de Comper and Château de Trécesson as well as the Forges of Paimpont, a national historical site. It has been associated with the forest of Brocéliande and many locations from Arthurian legend, including the Val sans retour, the tomb of Merlin, and the fountain of Barenton.

if you ever get to visit it, please share your experience too <3

maybe you can find merlin there

[talonabraxas]

The Enchanter Merlin and the Fairy Vivien in the forest of Broceliande, from 'Vivien', poem by Alfred Tennyson (1809-92) Gustave Doré Vivien and Merlin enter the woods (Illustration for Lord Alfred Tennyson’s Idylls of the King) 1868 Engraving DORÉ, Gustave (1832-1883)

[mask131]

A fantasy read-list: A-3

Fantasy read-list

Part A: Ancient fantasy

3) Medieval fantasy - the Arthuriana

While one root of the fantasy genre lies within the mythologies of the world, the other is coming from numerous medieval tales and supernatural stories, most of them being centered around what we call today the “Arthurian myth” or the “Arthuriana”. Though, in truth, the genre of these texts is a bit bigger - it is the “Matter of Britain”, which is larger than the Arthurian texts themselves.

And we will begin our list with... French texts! It might surprise you - you might say “But aren’t Arthurian texts all English?”. No. The Matter of Britain designates all the medieval texts that are not the “Matter of Rome” or the “Matter of Thebes” (aka coming from the texts and topics of Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece). Britain is, of course, England, as in “Great-Britain”. But if there is a GREAT Britain, it means there is a “Little Britain”... And this Little Britain is none other than the Bretagne region of France, aka the north-west of France. The Arthurian myth is half-rooted in England, yes, but another half of the origins and founding texts of the Arthurian legend come from France. The famous Broceliande forest is in France, not in England. 

# The founding texts of the French Arthurian literature are without a doubt the novels of Chrétien de Troyes. Considered the very first French novel of history, they created many of the well-known “Arthurian legends” of today. There is a total of five of these novels. Two are indirectly tied to the Arthurian world - Eric and Enide, Cligès. Two are right at the heart of the Arthuriana: Yvain or the Knight of the Lion, as well as Lancelot or the Knight of the Cart. And his final novel is incomplete, but it is the one that created the most famous part of the Arthurian literature: Perceval or the Story of the Grail, the first literary apparition of the famous “Holy Grail” (fun fact: the Grail wasn’t originally a cup, but a fish-plate. Go read the book, you’ll understand Xp). 

# Equating and rivaling Chrétien’s novels, we find the lais of Marie de France. A “lai” is actually a short fiction typical of the Middle-Ages, something halfway between a narrative poem and a fairytale, telling short, concise, but very efficient stories. We have a LOT of lais that came to us anonymously, carrying numerous literary stories or folktales of medieval times - but in France the most famous lais are those attributed to a certain “Mary of France”. She wrote twenty or so VERY famous lais that are seen as one of the defining feature of old medieval French literature. We are talking Bisclaveret, one of the oldest werewolf stories, we are talking of the supernatural romance of Guigemar, we are talking about the twin-shenanigans of Le Fresne, about the tragic love of Chevrefoil, and about the Arthurian lai of Lanval, about a man in love with a fairy but wooed by Guinevere herself. 

Mind you, there are other lais not composed by Marie de France, such as the one of Guingamor or the one of Sir Orfeo, but they are mostly anonymous.

# The works of Robert de Boron. Robert de Boron continued the work started by Chrétien de Troyes (and also took inspiration from the poet’s Wave semi-historical semi-fictional work, such as the Roman de Brut, a historical chronicle where Merlin and dragons appear), and built the next “step” in the Arthurian myth in France. Unfortunately we do not have his full work anymore, merely a fragment of his poem “Merlin” (where he presents the famous story of the “born of a demon” episode), a short “Perceval” story, and his full “Estoire du Graal ou Joseph d’Arimathie”, which is where the background of the Grail as the cup that collected Christ’s blood appears. Together they are considered as “le Petit Cycle du Graal”, “The Small Cycle of the Grail”, preceeding the following item...

# More interestingly, after the enormous success of Chrétien de Troyes’ work, there was an entire series of books that were created, remembered today as the Lancelot-Graal, or the Prose Lancelot, the Vulgate Cycle. These are five texts in prose (in opposition to Chrétien and Boron’s verse works), who continue or rewrite the previous author’s texts - these are L’Estoire del Saint Graal (L’Histoire du Saint Graal/The History of the Holy Grail), L’Estoire de Merlin (L’Histoire de Merlin/Merlin in prose),  Le Lancelot (also called Lancelot in prose or Lancelot proper), La Queste del Saint Graal (The Quest of the Holy Grail), and La Mort d’Artu (The death of Artu). This cycle was followed by three prose texts known as “The Post-Vulgate Cycle” (Histoire du Saint Graal, Merlin, Queste-Mort Artu) which are merely the transcription in prose of some of Boron works, mixed with a rewrite of the “Tristan en prose”, an old novel of the Tristan and Iseult cycle (and the first that links the legendary duo with the Arthurian world).

# The Roman de Perceforest is a quite unique work designed to unite the “romans d’Alexandre” (Alexandrian novels, a big branch of medieval French literature centered around the adventure of Alexander the Great) and the Arthurian novels - more importantly, Perceforest is the oldest known literary version of the fairytale Sleeping Beauty.

# A section should be left here for the various novels involving the fairy Mélusine, one of the main characters of the French medieval legends. In fact, she is recognized (by Georges Dumézil’s work and those that continued it) as one of the two archetypal fairies of the middle-ages (the Melusinian fairy being the fairy entering the human world to live with humans, opposing the Morganian fairy who snatches humans into the otherworld). The legend of Mélusine was most notably recorded in Jean d’Arras “Roman de Mélusine”, and in Coudrette’s own “Roman de Mélusine”.

# There are many, MANY more literary works of medieval France, but to stay in the angle of “ancient fantasy” I will merely quote two more. On one side, la Chanson des quatre fils d’Aymon, a famous medieval epic which notably depicts the figure of Maugis the Enchanter, the other main sorcerer of medieval texts alongside Merlin (he has his own poem, La Chanson de Maugis d’Aigremont). On the other, the one one, the classic, the best-seller, the unavoidable Roman de Renart, the Novel of Reynart, the tentacular set of texts depicting the numerous adventures of the most famous European trickster in an animalistic parody of the Arthurian world.

If we jump outside of France to England, we have a different set of texts:

# The works of Geoffrey of Monmouth. This man wrote some of the earliest works part of the “Arthurian myth”, and from which a lot of elements were taken to create the “Arthuriana”. While his most famous work is “Historia Regum Britanniae”, a semi-historical chronicle of the kings of Britain which contains one of the earliest appearance of King Arthur as we know him today, he also wrote two texts fundamental to the figure of Merlin: Prophetiae Merlini, and Vita Merlini. 

# Otia Imperialia, by Gervase of Tilbury. It was a work created as a gift to emperor Otto V, and it was supposed to be an encyclopedia of geographical, historical and scientific matters - but it is actually containing a LOT of mythical and legendary elements, including entire part of the “Arthurian myth” presented as historical facts - hence its latter name “The Book of Marvels”. 

# Of course, we can’t list the major Arthuriana English works without talking about the most famous one: “Le Morte d’Arthur”, the final result of the “evolution” of the Arthurian myth. Thomas Malory’s attempt at creating a complete legend uniting all of the English and French Arthurian texts (though heavily inspired by the Lancelot-Graal cycle I described above). This text became the “definitive Arthurian text” in England for a very long time - and in more recent days, it was the main inspiration for the famous Arthurian novel “The Once and Future King” by T. H. White.

And while the Arthurian corpus is mostly made of English and French texts, you also have Arthuriana sources in other European countries - such as in Germany, where you can find Lanzelet, by Ulrich von Zazhikhoven, which marks the first apparition of Lancelot in German literature. 

[wwaestheticskatiestclaire]

Katie St. Claire had made a habit of watching her world die. The dreams she’d had the previous night were no different, but she naively hoped it would just be another dream. She scowled into the cold of the night, staring at her ceiling of frost covered branches. She took a deep breath, then another, soothed by the warm touch of her boys cuddling into her. She turned her head to look at Kyle, he seemed so peaceful in his sleep. 

In her dreams, it had been the opposite. She dreamt of a crack in reality and a long fingered hand clawing its way out of it. There had been a smile that stretched too wide across an almost human face and eye like a kaleidoscope that glittered with devilish glee as it picked up Kyle. It reminded her of that painting of wild eyed Cronus eating his young. 

She turned to look at Peter, as she carefully pried herself from underneath his and Kyle's arms. Peace  had placed itself across his face, but unlike Kyle’s this was a peace that had settled like the dust from rubble of a demolished building; Peter had cried himself to sleep again. 

“Shit,” Katie said under her breath. “He's been getting to you again, hasn't he, Petie?”

Gently, she kissed his forehead and tucked him in closer to Kyle. “Keep him safe for me, Starman,” she whispered as she began carefully getting up. It was unlikely he had heard it, but it warmed her heart when he pulled Peter closer. 

Then more flashes of the dreams. A maelstrom of space-time against the backdrop of nothingness, like an infinite web of spider webbing cracks in a never ending mirror. Peter cried her name in desperation as he fell forever into the endless void.

“I need to go for a walk.”

She took a deep breath of the crisp forest air, the sharp coldness of the winter frost already dissipating into the wet tones of spring. She closed her eyes to take it all in. This place had magic in its bones. It wasn't just the way the seasons changed as capriciously as the elves that called these woods home. It was the way it whispered to her, stoking her emotions from dying embers into a bonfire of feeling. But unlike her boys, the whispers weren't nearly as tempting.

“Boys,” She said, cocking a hip out and gesturing to a nearby tree. “Can’t just talk about their feelings. They gotta bottle it up and let a forest uncork ‘em. Am I right?” 

She winced at the Forest’s reply; a crippling silence that chilled her far more than the frost ever could.

“Tough crowd.”

 She continued to mutter under her breath and put on her boots as well as the piecemeal armor they had made from materials of the four different worlds they'd run to before this one. She carefully draped the violet colored cloak she'd stolen over her shoulders and gingerly pulled the hood low over her brow. She stiffened at the crackle of a branch underfoot, her palm aglow with purple flame as it aimed at the sound.

A child emerged from the woods, his ears were only slightly pointed and his impish face more humanly round than the jagged angular look of his kinsmen. His chlorophyll green hair and his crooked smile made the half elf look as though he were a plant turned into a human. Despite his appearance, Robin Goodfellow- Puck, to his friends- was one of the most powerful mages ever to have lived. 

“My lady,” he said quietly with a low bow. “I heard you enjoyed yourself last night.”

She pursed her lips. “I did, Puck. Thanks.”

His eyes twinkled humorously at her. “I heard you enjoyed yourself several times last night.”

Her lips twitched in faint amusement; despite his youthful appearance, Puck was one of the oldest people living in Broceliande. Had she not still been reeling from her dreams, she might've even laughed out loud at her mentor’s joke but she just wasn't in the mood.

“Uh oh,” Puck said. “What's wrong?”

“It's just the dreams again,” she replied.

“Uh huh. So, would now be a good time to tell you, you've got a visitor? Or should I wait?”

She shook her head. “Who the hell is it?”

Puck’s smile faltered, and for a split second the mischief in his eyes belied a sensation she'd never seen mar the half elf’s face; For the first time ever, Katie saw fear in Puck’s eyes. 

“Another Sealbearer. Knows about your dreams, stripped my wards. He says he wants to talk. Says he’s got a solution to your problem.”

Katie stiffened, she'd been dodging Sealbearers ever since she learned about them by accident from an old bookseller with the red beard, or more specifically from the book that Peter had stolen; the same book that haunted her dreams, whispering even louder than the forest ever could. It had predicted a faceless man would come and threaten her boys; It had promised he would kill them. So she decided to take them and run. 

“And what did you say?”

Puck smiled, but this time there was no humor in it. “What was I supposed to say? I said you'd talk to him.”

Katie flinched, her words more caustic than she had planned for them to be. “Really? No bargaining on my behalf?”

His eyes narrowed at her. “Contracts require a fair exchange of power, and a fair exchange this is not.”

Katie scowled at him. “...If anything goes wrong…”

Puck cut her off. “Nothing is going to go wrong. This time.”

“But if it does…”

“It won't.”

“BUT If IT DOES.. ” She paused, taking a deep breath. “...You get my boys out somewhere safe, okay?”

“I will see what I can do, but you can't run from him. He's… Em’Rhactn Fo Ed’tha.”

Katie's mind translated the Na’gramas tongue automatically and she winced.

'Merchant of Death. And if he's a Sealbearer, the title is probably literal.'

Puck smiled wanly. “Fortunately for you, he's actually here to help this time.”

She shook her head. “And what if I don't want his help?”

“You will.”

“But if I don't?”

“You need his help.”

“They're just dreams, right?”

Puck shook his head, his smile gone. “Dreams are never just dreams. Not even the fun ones where you can fly or are embarrassed because for some reason you’re pantless before The Oberon.”

Katie raised an eyebrow.

“The point is,” Puck continued. “Especially in Broceliande, Dreams are prophetic. And with the ones you've been having, you need all the help you can get.”

She sighed, annoyed that he was right, but utterly certain that this was something that would come back to bite her.

“Lead the way,” She told him, after what felt like the longest heartbeat of her life.

Puck nodded and clambered for a hidden ladder made of rope like vines and down the shaft of the stout ironwood tree that they'd made their home inside. She vaguely remembered Puck’s explanation about how he had a whole bunch of these across the forest to avoid becoming prey during his people’s hunts. She felt it ironic, that it hadn't mattered; She'd still become prey. 

It felt like forever, but they finally made it to a tunnel made from the branches of several willows carefully knit together.

At the far end of it, stood a young man her age with a cocky smirk and dark eyes hidden beneath a broad brimmed hat, his face was so indistinguishably ordinary that he might as well have had no face at all. The trench coat was well worn and dusty, with patches of both cloth and chainmail.

“Hello, Cousin” Corvus St. Claire said warmly. “I hear you've been having bad dreams. I can help with that.”

Katie didn't understand why Puck was so afraid of this man.

“Who are you?” She asked, confused. “What do you want?”

“We'll get into what I want later, little miss Tinkerbell, but as for who I am, well, you can call me Mr. Hand.”