Synopsis: Here you’ll find the Lady of the Lake reimagined as an albino Ugandan sorceress and the Lady of Shalott as a wealthy, isolated woman in futuristic Mexico City; you’ll see Excalibur rediscovered as a baseball bat that grants a washed-up minor leaguer a fresh shot at glory and as a lost ceremonial drum that returns to a young First Nations boy the power and the dignity of his people. There are stories set in Gilded Age Chicago, ’80s New York, twenty-first century Singapore, and space; there are lesbian lady knights, Arthur and Merlin reborn in the modern era for a second chance at saving the world and falling in love—even a coffee shop AU.
 
Brave, bold, and groundbreaking, the stories in Sword Stone Table will bring fresh life to beloved myths and give long-time fans a chance to finally see themselves in their favorite legends.

Arthuriana tends to hold its characters up as the be-all, end-all narrative: the greatest king and knights that ever lived, the most powerful sorcerers to exist, the civilization that we will never achieve again. Of course, there are a lot of fundamental issues with this viewpoint. Namely, the Arthurian myth is by no means universal when it marginalizes a lot of people. However, Sword Stone Table: Old Legends, New Voices achieves the feeling of Arthuriana being much more widespread in influence through a selection of short stories reinterpreting the legend through a LGBTQIA+ and/or BIPOC lens.

A kind of universality by allowing a legend to permeate all human experiences while stressing that life is fundamentally varied is something an anthology can achieve well. The creators of this book also made the brilliant decision to break it up into three sections — once, present, and future — to contribute to the sense of a mythos that can apply to all people throughout time, all poetically slotting into place with the obvious reference to the Once and Future King.

In that vaguely defined medievalist past, the book kicks things off with “The Once and Future Qadi” by Ausma Zehanat Khan, about a renowned Qadi (a judge in Islamic cultures) being called to King Arthur’s court to judge the queen’s integrity, leading to a new conclusion about Guinevere’s agency and the false ideals of Camelot through the eyes of an outsider. “Passing Young and Fair” by Roshani Chokshi shows Elaine, Lancelot’s unloved and forgotten wife, choosing her destiny and achieving happiness all the same, even though the legend never credited it to her. Sarah MacLean’s “The Bladesmith Queen” is unique in that it is more imaginative and intellectual in how it identifies its Arthurian characters; it is from the perspective of a female blacksmith who is ashamed of what conquerors have done with the swords she forged in hand, when a “warrior king” comes and delivers her vengeance, love, and queendom. Such is Sword Stone Table’s “Once” stories, showcasing the hidden perspectives of the age of Camelot, both mournfully and humorously nodding to the shortcomings of chivalry that the medieval texts (ironically) acknowledge themselves.

Then the anthology moves into the modern day, bringing with it the same themes of injustice and erasure but also putting emphasis on the need for a King Arthur figure, or at least belief in the ideals he represents. “Mayday” by Maria Dahvana Headley uses a Gilded Age setting to delve into corruption in business and politics, but “Heartbeat” (Waubgeshig Rice), “Black Diamond” (Alex Segura), and “Once (Them) & Future (Us)” (Preeti Chhibber) all return to positively symbolizing Arthur in some form yet present him as a more relevant individual. For instance, “Once (Them) & Future (Us)” finds Merlin reawakened in the modern day, who accepts what he must be to help a reincarnated Arthur (now Arjun) be what the world of this time needs.

“Flat White” by Jessica Plummer was one of my favourites—barista Elaine has an instant crush on regular Lance, and haphazardly ends up dating him, as well as becoming acquainted with his friends Arthur and Gwen. Except for Lance is in love with Arthur and also probably sleeping with Gwen. Elaine breaks the fourth wall and falls down a Wikipedia rabbit hole about the Arthurian legend and thinks she is losing her mind but also that she has a place in this supposedly grand tale. Until finally, in the end, she decides that she doesn’t have to be a part of this story and is tired of Lance “waiting her to save him.”

Anthony Rapp’s “Jack and Brad and the Magician” is also a standout, a heartbreaking story about a young man caring for his partner dying of AIDS. They encounter a magician who is Merlin incarnate, who ties the past and the future together. Merlin tells Jack of Arthur and Lance, the love they once had for each other reminding him of Jack and Brad. He then says: 

“You must believe me when I say this—and I realize that it may bring precious little comfort to you, right now, in the moment, but you must know it nonetheless: the Plague will change, it will. It will not be the dreaded messenger of Death of all of Time. No. And no, I understand, I do, that this is not true for you dear beloved Brad, no. Not for Brad. I am afraid that Time—and Time’s dread companion, Death—have indeed confounded us there. And, no, there is nothing to be done about it for you poor, dear, lovely, beloved Brad. But, oh! For so many others, yes, for so very many others, it will be so very different. And this—yes, I know! This will be soon. And it will be forever.”

The story isn’t a direct parallel that suggests that the characters are versions of Arthur et al.; it is one of the examples about the regular, tangential people who are affected by the Arthurian narrative. Merlin feels like a more necessary character than ever when he is comparing King Arthur to a gay man in the modern day and assuring him that better days will come.

As the anthology travels into the future, there are predictably lots of futuristic, barely explained technologies and one story taking place on Mars. These three stories seem to focus more on the insubstantial nature of the legend, concentrating on themes of lost love and identity. By coincidence or design, Sword Stone Table points to the increasing irrelevance of King Arthur himself in the future, right after “Once (Them) & Future (Us)” ends the “Present” section with Merlin and Morgan committing to helping Arjun improve their time. Does this ever happen? Has it yet to happen in the future stories? Does this task become more difficult as time moves forward? 

Notably, two of the future stories do acknowledge the existence of the medieval Arthurian myth in their settings and establish that people are still familiar with it. It is very unlikely that any story is truly representative of every person in the world, but welcoming various writers to all craft their own take on a widely known one is a narrative device to draw connections between people. Moreover, Arthuriana is always begging to be picked apart, to do better than its original iterations and tell profound stories in many ways. Whether it’s through the eyes and actions of Arthur or someone else, people throughout all time are hurt by the same things but connected by similar ideals, influenced by the once with hope for the future.

Sword Stone Table is available now – you can order your copy HERE