**Due to recent misinterpretations of some one post
from this blog, a disclaimer is now apparently necessary. If this is your first visit to The
Scratched Camera, please read the introductory post and discover, for yourself, that every typed word that
follows is unabashedly my opinion and mine alone. In said introductory post, which,
shockingly, I did not simply type up for my own good health, I state that we
all read events and characters with our own baggage in mind; no one observes
with a perfectly clear lens—hence the
name The Scratched Camera.
Therefore, it is completely your will to disagree with any material that
follows, just as it is my will to agree and advocate for what is mine.** ~End, irritating obligatory disclaimer~
Arthur Pendragon—The Once and FUTURE King
On
the surface, I shouldn’t like Arthur Pendragon. At the beginning of the series, he’s a bully, belittling
Merlin (albeit in an entertaining way) and eagerly following in his
father’s elitist footsteps.
However, as the series continues, Prince Arthur is forced to grow up,
creating a character that is far easier to like than his original persona.
When
we first meet Arthur, he’s pushing Merlin around like a bully on the school
playground, all the while insisting to be called my Lord. He disregards
Gwen, seeing her as a lowly maidservant and, therefore, beholding little
value.
Fortunately
for Arthur, Merlin saves his life in The
Dragon’s Call. Merlin may
physically save his life here, but, while neither of them may know it yet, he’s
saving far more than that. Merlin
has a deep influence on Arthur’s character development, (a sentiment Arthur
returns in kind, however that will have to be saved for Merlin’s own post)
as he infuses Pendragon with understanding and an open-mind.
This
is not an overnight process, of course.
It takes the entire run of five series to succeed—and even then I’d
argue the process wasn’t nearly complete.
As a knight, Arthur builds his persona around three distinct
characteristics—loyalty, courage and sacrifice. Prior to Merlin’s interception, Arthur may have observed the
qualities, but he didn’t really allow them to touch his behavior.
All
of that changes with the introduction of Merlin. In The Poisoned
Chalice, the audience is shown the first instance of double-sacrifice
committed by the two sides of the same coin. Merlin, unwilling to allow Arthur to drink the poisoned
wine, is forced by Uther to drink it himself. In turn, Arthur is determined to seek out a cure for his
servant, refusing to let him to die as a result of risking his own life for his
prince.
Pendragon’s
loyalty to Merlin is further proven by Arthur’s assistance in Merlin’s insistence
that they allow a Druid boy to escape Camelot in The Beginning of the End.
To do so would be to directly defy Uther’s orders—as the king absolutely
hates any being associated with magic and, therefore, believes Mordred, an
innocent boy, deserves to die. Orders from the king are also disregarded in The Moment of Truth, as Arthur rushes to
Merlin’s home-village to ward off raiders. All of these instances are done simply because Merlin
requests it; Arthur’s loyalty to the servant who repeatedly risks his own life
for the sake of a master who isn’t particularly kind to him to begin with
insists that he return the favor.
Immediately
at the start of series one, we see Arthur’s choices differ drastically from
Uther’s. Where the king fails to
see the value of one tiny village, Arthur rushes out to its aid. Uther insists the prince should not be
drawn into a one-on-one fight against a mysterious and deathly knight, but
Arthur insists on being the one to duel him.
As
series one progresses, the differences between Uther and Arthur only become
more apparent. In The Labyrinth of Gedref, Arthur makes the
grave mistake of killing a unicorn.
Where Uther is proud and refuses to admit that his son has brought a
curse upon Camelot, Arthur is eventually able to admit he made a mistake. He faces the three trials put forth to
him and eventually agrees to sacrifice himself for the sake of Camelot. Merlin insists on being the one to die,
based upon his inherently lesser value, when compared to the future king. Arthur holds strong, however; he
insists that it was his mistake that earned Camelot the curse and he should,
therefore, be the one to pay the price.
The
Arthur we met at the very beginning of The
Dragon’s Call may have considered sacrificing himself for the sake of the
kingdom. He would not, however,
have seen the inherent value in the life of a meager servant like Merlin. The prince may not go so far as to
thank Merlin here—an action he will not complete until the very end—but it is
certainly progress.
This
progress is only further carried-out as the show enters its second series. In The
Once and Future Queen, Merlin gets an ally and is no longer alone in his
strive to improve Arthur’s character to someone who can one day unite
Albion. Gwen, forced to take in a
disguised Arthur, corrects his lack of compassion, as he carelessly dishes out
demands for her to fulfill, treating her like a servant in her own home. The development of a relationship
between the two affords Arthur compassion, which is applied to all three of his
defining characteristics, fueling him with an internally motivating mercy.
However,
it appears this sympathy is not meant to be applied to sorcerers. In The
Sins of the Father, it had, at one time, appeared Arthur may not harbor the
same hate towards magic that is evident in his father. He seeks out Morgause, who informs Arthur
that he was conceived via magical intervention, due to Ygraine’s inability to
bear children. Despite the fact
that Morgause relied entirely on magic to bring him this conclusion, he
immediately believes her. His
faith in the witch and her information is such that he looks for revenge on
Uther, as he is informed the magic caused his mother’s death.
Arthur accuses the king of being a
hypocrite—hating magicians didn’t stop him from employing one to bring himself
an heir. The prince certainly
would’ve killed Uther, had Merlin not stepped in and discredited Morgause’s
information; a decision that was not easily reached, as he knew beyond a doubt
the information was true. Arthur’s
short-lived faith in the tale spun by Morgause had also brought the prince
dangerously close to approving of magic, a notion that was now completely gone
as Arthur’s view of sorcery was once again returned to his previous conclusion
that it is the height of deception.
While
the decision may have been right at the time—Uther’s death would’ve weighed the
prince down with undeniable guilt—it is one that Merlin will grow to regret, as
he spends the remainder of the show struggling to show Arthur that not all
magic is evil. Pendragon
compromises on a lot of issues along the way, but magic is never really one of
them.
Series
two also further develops Arthur’s affection for Morgana. He views her as a little sister (landing
himself ironically close to the truth in the process) and, therefore, feels
a strong need to protect her. When
he fails, as he does in The Fires of
Irdirsholas, he feels completely and utterly responsible, as if he has
failed in his duties as a prince.
This strong desire to protect his family once again displays his drive
for nobility and chivalry.
All
of these themes carry over into the third series, each receiving their own
sense of development and broadening.
Arthur continues to feel very loyal and gallant towards Morgana,
blinding him to her betrayal until the very end of the series, despite various
attempts at sabotage on her part.
His code of honor continues to persuade him to discount orders from his
father that his heart deems cold and cruel; Arthur seeks to save Gwen’s
brother, despite a disregard from the king on the importance of an insignificant
servant’s sibling.
Due to the prince’s growing sense
of compassion, the mutual feelings between Gwen and Arthur receive a slight
shove forward, leading to the near-start of a relationship. However, it is forced in to hiding in quick
order, after, due to a deception from Morgana, Gwen is accused of
witchcraft. Uther sentences her to
death, prompting a great deal of hurt from Arthur; however, it does assure the
prince that the relationship is clearly organic and, once they have freed Gwen
from the charges, they resume the relationship, albeit secretly.
The
end of series three, which unravels in a two-parter entitled The Coming of Arthur, introduces some
new facets to the prince’s character.
He witnesses his first of many betrayals, something that will plague him
until the end of series five. This
start to a consistent treachery causes Arthur to question his
worth—particularly in regards to whether he truly is equipped to sit on the
throne of Camelot. As such, Arthur
is forced to consult Merlin on the issue; The
Coming of Arthur, therefore, shows us a prince who relies on his manservant
for a boost in confidence.
This
is not something the Arthur we were first introduced to would’ve even
considered doing. He believed
Merlin to be inherently below him and, therefore, would never seek reassurance
from him. However, Merlin’s
persistence in staying by his side has earned the prince’s loyalty. As such, they have now reached an
understanding; Merlin is one of the very few Arthur will listen to.
Due
to his loyalty to Merlin, Arthur is able to courageously return to Camelot with
a small resurgence of forces in a battle that will almost certainly take his
life—a sacrifice that is more than worth it in the eyes of Arthur, for the sake
of his kingdom. While Arthur may
not know it—does he ever?—he and Merlin work together to defeat
Morgana’s immortal army and regain control of the throne.
Arthur’s
feeling of inadequacy doesn’t magically (pun intended) disappear in
series four. Morgana’s betrayal
has left Uther in a state of distress, forcing Arthur to take the throne in his
stead. Likewise, Morgana’s burn
for revenge will never disappear, as she sacrifices her nearly dead sister to
open a veil and allow the spirits of the dead to cross over into the land of
the living. Once again, Arthur’s
growth is on full display, as he immediately makes his way to the Isle of the
Blessed, fully intending on sacrificing himself for the sake and the safety of
his kingdom. At the very last
moment, Arthur is knocked unconscious—to which I again say when is he not?—allowing
Merlin to make his move, approaching Pomfrey the Callileach and
demanding she take him as the sacrifice instead. She refuses, prompting Lancelot to step up to serve out his
promise to Gwen to keep Arthur safe.
By
this point in series four, it is in the audience’s nature to expect at least
one grand sweeping gesture of sacrifice on Arthur’s part per season. Where the Arthur of series one was
rude, sarcastic and spoiled, this Arthur is well, still rude. But it does make me chuckle, so I
suppose he gets a free pass on the matter. honest, sacrificial, dedicated
and loyal. In short, he’s become a
man worthy of the throne.
As
such, it did not surprise me when Uther was killed very shortly into series
four. It was time for the
prejudice, hateful, hypocritical and close-minded Uther to be officially
removed from the throne.
However,
The Wicked Day brings us more than
Uther’s death. With it, it brings
a myriad of reminders that this Arthur is not the arrogant prince we once
knew. He still thinks himself
unworthy, as he grasps at any possible straws to find a way to bring his father
back to him. While this is
partially done out of love for his father, it is also Arthur’s deep-seated
insecurities coming out to play.
He couldn’t save Morgana from crossing alliances; he feels that merely
sitting by and allowing the king to pass would be another injustice on his part—almost
as if he were responsible for killing the king himself—thereby proving his
inadequacy to take the throne.
This fear leads Arthur to drastic
measures, namely employing a sorcerer—who is actually Merlin in disguise—to
attempt to save Uther, bringing us another new aspect of the prince. Arthur’s opinion on magic has not necessarily
improved since the situation with Morgause in the second series; had Uther’s
prospects been anything but dire, I doubt he would’ve sought out a
magician. However, the fact that
he does shows a promising potential for open-mindedness on the part of the
future king.
This
is, of course, what motivated Merlin to attempt to try to begin with, as there
is no love loss between the servant and the king. He had thought that saving Uther would’ve allowed Arthur to
accept that not all magic is evil.
Unfortunately for both sides of this coin, the plan failed, due to
another forsaking family member, resulting in a reaffirmed hatred of magic from
Arthur.
As
the fourth series progresses, Arthur continues to feel unworthy of his
kingship. He stumbles and
struggles to discover how to be himself and
a good king. Unfortunately, he’s
following the faulty advice of his uncle, who is secretly in cahoots with
Morgana. At the urging of his
uncle, he kills an opposing king in His
Father’s Son, starting a war with the kingdom.
Arthur’s
solution for the conflict, however, is brilliant, and shows us another mark of
progress. Whereas Uther would’ve
gladly sat on his throne and allowed his armies to march into battle against
the opposing kingdom, Arthur refuses to have the violent and unnecessary loss
of warriors. He instead seeks out
the queen himself, offering to fight in a one-on-one battle against the warrior
of her choosing. Arthur wins the
combat with a perfect opportunity to kill his opponent. If he had killed the man, he would’ve
been in his full rights to do so, as the terms had explicitly been to the
death. However, in an act of
compassion, for which I believe he has Merlin and Gwen to thank, Arthur
spares the man, earning him the respect and debt of the queen.
Sparing
the man could’ve very easily backfired.
The warrior—who was gigantic—could’ve
squashed Arthur like a cockroach.
All out battle also wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility, based on the
sheer fact that Arthur technically broke the terms of the agreement. Compassion was not the easy choice—had
he simply killed the man, there would be no need for disputes or debates; the
matter would’ve been settled.
Compassion was, however, the right
choice, a decision the queen thankfully agrees to.
The
end of series four shows us another instance of dependence between Merlin and
Arthur. After the betrayal of his
uncle, the king falls to a new low, requiring a falsified tale from Merlin to
inspire him to the greatness he has always been capable of. Merlin, of course, comes through,
allowing Arthur to pull Excalibur from the stone, proving his worth
definitively, although Arthur will always continue to have his doubts.
Series
five is, just like the first four series, full of plenty examples of Arthur’s
gallant and loyal nature. However,
it is the series finale that shows the king at both his finest and his
lowest. Once again, Arthur rushes
into battle to defend his kingdom from Morgana—who is now joined by
Mordred. Merlin makes the battle a
definitive win for Camelot, but not before Arthur is mortally wounded by
Mordred. Merlin begins the trek to
Avalon Lake, the waters of which might hold the magic to heal the king. However, in the process, he must reveal
his deepest secret to his oldest friend.
I
had been waiting for this moment from the very first episode. I will be the first to admit that
Arthur’s initial reaction of disgust bothered me; I distinctly remember
actually uttering aloud “oh, Arthur, I thought you were better than that.” He judges Merlin, looks at him as if
he’s nothing more than a common criminal—not like the repeated savior of his
life, as Merlin truly is.
Merlin
explains just how much he has done for the king over the near decade that they
have known each other; he describes just how many times he has saved his life,
and the countless others that he would’ve sacrificed his own life, had
occurrences allowed for it.
Arthur
holds to his convictions, as he isn’t merely bothered by the fact that Merlin
is a sorcerer. The king, who has
always felt a connection beyond the typical servant/master dichotomy, feels
truly hurt that his friend didn’t share it with him. His hurt persists, although it is slightly alleviated once
he learns that Merlin had wished to spare Arthur the difficult decision of
beheading him.
In
the end, they come to an understanding.
Finally, after five series, roughly ten years of friendship and
servitude, countless instances of mutual offers of sacrifice, and an
understanding that anything must be done to keep Camelot safe, Arthur manages a
thank you to Merlin, for all the good he comprehends and all that he still cannot
begin to understand. Finally, in
his last dying breaths, King Arthur has become the leader that Albion needs,
and will need, in the future.
From Gary King to Nicholas Angel: Is Arthur a good role model? Arthur strives to be the perfect knight—loyal, courageous
and sacrificing for the sake of the greater good. However, there are aspects to Arthur that are not
traditional amongst knights.
There’s a sense of rebelliousness about him that sets in when he is
issued orders he finds immoral or cruel, implying he is far more compassionate
than his father was capable of. If
you are loyal to him, no matter who you are or what your station is, there are
few lengths he wouldn’t go through to insure your safe return. He does not shy away from accepting the
consequences of his actions—if he makes a mistake, he owns up to it and seeks a
way to rectify the damage he has done.
However, that is not to say that Arthur is perfect. Despite the lengths Merlin goes through
to help Arthur—by which I mean both what he is aware of and what he is unaware
of—he still refuses to thank his servant until the very last moments of his
life. Even after the introduction
of Merlin and Gwen, Arthur continually suffers from a slight arrogance, due to
his strength in combat and success on the battlefield. As a result, he can be very commanding
and rude towards Merlin, often underestimating him and not realizing just how
much he owes the sorcerer. This
arrogance and sense of superiority can lead to a somewhat cruel and imposing
sense of humor that, while comical, is still vindictive in nature and is,
therefore, inexcusable in terms of the brutality of the comments at hand. He also has a tendency towards a
closed-mind that is far from commendable.
Merlin may have forced him to open his eyes at the end of his days, but
he still spent the bulk of his time following in his father’s footsteps,
failing to unite Albion and bring magic and equality into the light of day.
Role Model Rating:
7/10
From Peter Parker to Spider-Man: Is Arthur relatable?
Typically, I would say that Arthur, as the representation of a holy
knight, burning arrogance and all, could have the potential to be too
excellent of a model to be relatable.
However, there is an acutely vulnerable side to Arthur, which, while
infrequently making appearances, does certainly exist. No one is betrayed like Arthur
Pendragon—he suffers through the treachery of two very close family members,
both of which went undiscovered—by him, anyway—for well over a
year. This instills a number of
insecurities in the previously cocky king. His inability to catch their betrayal forces him to question
whether he is fit to be the true heir of Camelot. This doubt, while undeniably frustrating for the character
to experience, serves to humanize an otherwise apparently unattainably wholly good person. Likewise, Arthur suffers far more losses than characters are
typically shown to—his father, Morgana, his uncle and Gwen to Lancelot, albeit
briefly and merely through another ploy from the hands of Morgana. These losses aren’t simply experienced
by Arthur either; he frequently feels a sense of responsibility, whether earned
or not. Arthur’s ability to make
mistakes, accept accountability, and pay the consequences further serves to refine
his character. For instance, he holds
tight to his learned biases from his father on the issue of magic, a fact he
pays very dearly for as he dies in the arms of his best friend, unable to withdrawal
his horrible reaction to Merlin’s confession. Every person has certain issues they feel strongly on—things
they can’t be persuaded on until something drastic occurs, forcing their
viewpoint to change; frequently, the change is too little, too late, as it is
in Arthur’s case. Arthur’s
adherence to his beliefs may have bothered me upon my original viewing, but it
does add a layer of relatablility to the otherwise noble and self-sacrificing
king.
Relatability Rating:
7/10
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