Priestess of Avalon

Marion Zimmer Bradley's Priestess of Avalon tells of the life of Helena, the Roman emperor Constantine's mother.  A his-fic, you might think, however little is actually known about Helena's life, and this is where Avalon comes in - at the time of this story, Avalon has existed uninterrupted for thousands of years as an isle which bridges the mundane world and the world of faerie.  This is where Helena's story begins as the 10-year-old daughter of a noble Roman, yet also the daughter of Rian, high priestess of Avalon.  The theme, however, is not a star-crossed relationship between an Avalonian and a Roman (see Bradley's earlier Avalon story, The Forest House), but the tale of a woman who spends much of her life alone.

 

Helena tells her own story, which begins in Avalon with a prophecy that will change her days as a trained priestess of Avalon, into a life filled with the political intrigues of Rome, circa 250-329 AD which happens to be the time when Christianity is first adopted as the preferred religion of the Roman empire.  I couldn't have been more interested in this particular time period, when the Roman empire is fragmented by various barbarian invasions, the corruption of its own leaders and the introduction of a brand new theology from the middle-east.  In fact, I wish there had been more drama in the book, that was more involved with this theme of political and religious change throughout Europe, but I guess I'll just have to go read more history for that.  The story of Helena's life as a pagan priestess, who, cast out of her home, becomes a sympathizer of the new religion, is a sad one.  This woman begins as a rather bold, precocious child just learning the ropes as novice of a life-affirming, female-based faith.  But once she is cruelly dismissed by her high priestess for choosing to fulfill her destiny, she must surrender her independence, her nerve and boldness.  From this point on, we are almost hit over the head with the Platonism of the main theme:

"In the realm of idea, the great principles behind the forms that we see are the same," says Helena's first tutor Corinthius.  Helena doesn't believe at first that all the world's gods are just facets of one single deity, but this skepticism dissipates with the rest of her resolve as the story continues, until finally she surrenders to the future ahead:  "There is power here, I thought, as the drama of the Mass came to a conclusion.  It may not be the only truth in the world, but in some way, this story they are telling is true."  I couldn't help but feel sorry for Helena.  Most of the female characters of Bradley's books seem to watch life happen to them, and she is no exception.  Women are ruled, in the Avalon novels, not by men, but by women (and the Goddess).  This ironic sort of feminism usually makes for some great reading - prophecies and the fulfillment thereof, the will of the gods, the fight for or against destiny.  But something was missing in this book that was present in The Mists of Avalon, and that is an interesting, fiery female protagonist.  In Mists we come to love Morgaine (Morgan of the Fairies), a supposed evil bitch in the classic King Arthur legend, who in this re-telling turns out to be pretty formidable, but is also a real woman.  I did not find myself any more attached to Helena by the end of Priestess of Avalon, than I was at page 142 when she began her Roman life.  She does not fight for what she believes in, and I'm convinced that after she left Avalon she just didn't care anymore.  In light of this, I think the novel may have been better from a different, more emotional perspective, or from the third-person to get a better glimpse of events and daily life during this time period.  A decent book, but sadly twice-read was more than enough for me.

Stay with me till next week, when I'll review yet another of Bradley's books, Warrior Woman, about Zadya, who is sold into slavery and instead of a prostitute becomes a gladiator.  This one, I hear from Amazon, was the result of a bet between Bradley and her editor, and also a reaction to the Gor novels by John Norman, where women are typically the obedient slaves of men.  I haven't read these (yet), but I'm anxious to find out what happens to Zadya, as I'm sure you are, too.