Finally, I have found a modern troubadour in these unromantic and rotten times that has done the old Breton lais justice. The Wolf and His King is how a roman de chevalerie should be retold.

I must confess that before this book I hadn’t read The Lays of Marie de France, which contains the knightly fairy tale this book reimagined. I have owned the Penguin Classics edition for a long while, but spoilt for choice as we are in our modern world where books are abundant, I had let it languish someplace all dusty and forgotten. Out of memory, no plans to read it, one more Classic for my collection of knightly stories, my second favourite motif of all time. And when I saw this book’s release in paperback last year, the promotional blurb had made me think it was some sort of Little Red Riding Hood retelling but with men in shining armour and werewolves instead of Red and Big Bad Wolf.

I had never paid any attention to Bisclavret, and beyond the name I don’t think I knew its plotline before, it wasn’t one of the lais that I was familiar with by cultural osmosis and from mentions in other knightly books I had read. You could say I went into The Wolf and His King with no other expectations than a good knight’s tale. And it didn’t disappoint, I’m pleased to report. But one thing intrigued me…

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