Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Translated by J. R. R. Tolkien, read by Terry Jones (HarperCollins, 2 CDs, £19.99)

Translated and read by Simon Armitage (Faber, 2 CDs, £12.99)

Translated by Benedict Flynn, ready by Jasper Britton (Naxos, 2 CDs, £10.99)

We nearly never had the magical medieval tale of Gawain and the Green Knight. Written circa 1401 by an anonymous northerner, the only manuscript to survive was lost for two centuries before resurfacing in 1839. Part ghost story, part thriller, part romance, and part morality tale, it tells of the challenge issued to Gawain at Arthur's court by a wizard in the guise of a gigantic green-clad knight, of Gawain's near seduction by his host's wife just before he meets the knight, and of how honesty and chivalric courtesy (just) save his head.

New interest in it was aroused by the 1990 opera by Harrison Birtwistle, but the bewitching music and pyrotechnical staging overwhelmed both poetry and plot. To enjoy it to the full, you need to hear it read aloud.

Until now, there was only Terry Jones's 1997 reading of J.R.R. Tolkien's 1975 version, but two new tellings have just been released: the poet Simon Armitage reading his own version and Jasper “Peak Practice” Britton reading Benedict Flynn's.

All three are unabridged. So which should you go for? Fan as I am of both Tolkien and Jones in other contexts, their version runs a poor third. Tolkien's love of scholarly correctness gets in the way of the subtle ebb and flow of the original lines, and Jones has more of a lisp here than in his excellent Fairy Tales.

Armitage is wittily modern and northern; Flynn respects, but is no slave to, the high language of romance. After the terrible Green Knight has picked up his head and gone, Armitage says: “don't be surprised if the plot turns pear-shaped”, while Flynn offers: “no one should wonder at [the game's] weighty ending'. Both shrewdly strew it with alliteration, but differently: Flynn sheaves Gawain's calves in shining grieves, Armitage has leg-guards lagging his flesh.

The narrations also contrast. Armitage's lackadaisical intonation made me lose concentration on occasion, but there is a poetic magic about it. Britton goes at a livelier pace with a fine dramatic sense. So I suggest that you get them both, and listen to them alternately, scene by scene. It works like binoculars: you get a deeper understanding of the original, magnifying its intensity.

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