Le Morte D'Arthur

This book contains 507 chapters. The writing style is a complete turn off (it was originally published in 1485), although I really like the Arthur mythos, and as far as I read, it seemed to be doing a good job telling it.

Some paraphrasing to give and idea:

Chapter 1: on how Arthur was born and Merlin contrived a situation to become his guardian
King Uther Pendragon wanted to bed his defiant baron's wife in order to teach him a lesson and because she was very beautiful. So he asked Merlin for his help. Merlin agreed to help him in exchange for his first born son. Uther agreed, bedded Igraine, and gave Arthur to Merlin. (1 page)

Chapter 2: on how Arthur became king and a curious sword on the stone
When Uther died, all the barons started fighting for the throne. Merlin have decreed that whoever was able to remove the sword from the stone would become King. Arthur managed to remove thew word and became King. (2 pages)

Chapter 3...

I give this a five out of ten with the MOST enthusiasm possible. At times I really enjoyed Le Morte d’Arthur, the whimsical, straight forward nature of the group of knights is endearing in all the best ways as they bumble around for hundreds of pages on end, but I couldn’t say I would recommend someone read it either.

First thing you’ll have to get used to is the way its written, it’s very “old time english” and at first is very difficult to get into. Once you do, I think the flow of it can be charming but it is a barrier to entry. Secondly at times it can drag A LOT. There is a whole midsection of the book (books 8-10) which are much longer then any other section and are also just filled with endless nothingness that made me put the whole book on hold for half a year.

There’s also what feels like a lot of repetition in events throughout, almost every book contains multiple joust tourneys where inevitably Lancelot will disguise himself as someone so he can fight against the round table.(happens so often, Gawaine calls it out in book 19). The most egregious moment is when Malory writes out the names of 86 knights back to back that show up to help someone. It goes on and on.

Probably best to stick to an abridged version. There's a lot to enjoy here to me but A LOT to sludge through as well

This is an excerpt from Thomas Malory's significantly longer Le Morte d'Arthur, plublished as a Penguin 60s Classic.

I struggled to take this book seriously, given a mild obsession with Monty Python and the Holy Grail in my formative years.

For example, read this quotation and tell me it is not pure python: (P22) Then Sir Bedevere departed, and went to the sword, and lightly took it up, and went to the water side; and there he bound the girdle about the hilts, and then he threw the sword as far into the water as he might; and there came an arm and an hand above the water and met it, and caught it, and so shook it thrice and brandished, and then vanished away the hand with the sword in the water. So Sir Bedevere came again to the king, and told him what he saw.

And loads of this sort of comedy ye olde English: Then when Sir Mordred wist and understood how he was beguiled, he was passing wroth out of measure, and Thus they kept Sir Launcelot's corpse loft for fifteen days, and then the buried it with great devotion.

Really they run hand in hand with such classics from Python as:
King Arthur: The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. THAT is why I am your king.Dennis: [interrupting] Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributin' swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.

and
Sir Bedevere: ...and that, my liege, is how we know the Earth to be banana-shaped.King Arthur: This new learning amazes me, Sir Bedevere. Explain again how sheep's bladders may be employed to prevent earthquakes.

ok one more
French Soldier: You don't frighten us, English pig dogs. Go and boil your bottoms, you sons of a silly person. I blow my nose at you, so-called “Arthur King,” you and all your silly English K-nig-hts.