The life of a knight of Camelot can be compromising, to say the least. He must be honorable above all else, and put himself in the way of danger in order to serve a greater purpose. He must be selfless and brave. Each and every decision must be made in concurrence with the chivalric code, leaving no room for natural tendency or urges. Sir Gawain in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight ham-handedly makes his way through several ill-judged decisions and subsequent actions despite his neurotic attachment to the code and his duties. His first mistake is when he reveals to the Green Knight, and therefore to all the fairies, his weakness for abiding by the rules of Camelot. This gives the fairies the upper hand, as they now have the knowledge necessary for leading Gawain to his downfall: his tragic flaw. Gawain’s second mistake, which he repeats many times, is his allowing the fairies use his flaw against him, which eventually weakens his moral character. Although Sir Gawain uses bad judgment at almost every turn, (from the game with the Green Knight, to his journey, to his stay at Bertilak’s castle) it is not his erroneous judgments that cause him to fail in succeeding in his quest. His mistakes do, however, inevitably lead to a single movement that undermines the entirety of his journey and chivalric duty; as the Green Knight brings down his axe for the first time, Gawain shirks against the swing, thus subverting the worth of his training and ideals through an innate movement.

               In describing the game with the Green Knight in King Arthur’s court, the Gawain poet introduces the bumbling but well-intended Sir Gawain just as we will see him throughout the rest of the story: almost apologizing before he begins to speak, and obliging every single person before even rising from his chair (343-347). In standing, Gawain makes his first critical mistake of his error-ridden journey: not only has he decided to play a game with a supernatural being of terrifying height and build, but he has also taken Arthur’s place, he has usurped a position in a battle that was simply not his. Sir Gawain, with the obvious and imposing nature of rising from his seat and in his initial interaction with the knight, shows the Green Knight his incredible attachment to Camelot’s rules and his attempt to enact them perfectly. He calls upon the Green Knight to go over the rules once again in order to follow the law of the sport (378-380). This exchange of words is the mistake that ultimately leads Gawain to his downfall—the Green Knight now knows that he can demand almost anything of Sir Gawain, as long as it falls within the boundaries of his chivalric duty. He knows Gawain’s weakness and, as most playful fairies know, how to use it against him. This fact is shown almost immediately after Sir Gawain lops off the knight’s head, which, after rolling around the floor, mentions Gawain’s duty to find his castle (“As [he] promised in the presence of [the] proud knights” [450]). Fairies revel in a world of no rules, and the Green Knight has gained the obligation of a man who aligns all of his actions with protocol.

               When Sir Gawain finally does begin his quest for the Green Knight’s castle, he despairs at the hopelessness of his journey. He moves in simply any direction he chooses—completely errant and lost among the most desolate and bare of surroundings, with which the Gawain poet presents with dreary descriptions. The only living thing in the landscape: “With many birds unblithe upon bare twigs /That peeped most piteously for the pain of the cold” (746-47). The scene is as desolate and inert as ice. So when Sir Gawain comes upon what is Bertilak’s castle, it is a cheerful sight, and he assumes it appeared from nothingness because of an adamant prayer to the Virgin Mary. It never occurs to him that this castle meets all his expectations of the “ultimate” fortress specifically because the Green Knight knew to create something in the image of the Camelot-inspired ideal. Sir Gawain sees the castle and he is almost forcibly attracted to it and is trusting of it against his better judgment (although the reader is likely to have little faith in his reason at the point). Gawain assumes the laws that he knows so well are universal truths. This is yet another judgment that the fairies use to their advantage. He trusts what he knows. He is not wary. This is why Sir Gawain is not surprised by the fact that these people of this isolated castle knew of him. At this point the people in the fairy realm are stroking his ego and making him comfortable. Sir Gawain believes that these people knew of the details of Camelot because he thinks that Camelot’s society is that important, as this is what he has been told while within the society. He too readily accepts Camelot’s importance—he is a knight of Camelot, therefore even people in isolated lands should know him on sight.

               Once within the fairy realm of Bertilak’s castle and lulled by comforts and wine and good company, Sir Gawain begins to stray even in his moral judgment. When Lady Bertilak visits him in his bedroom that first night, Sir Gawain (despite his best efforts) allows the lady to disarm him. He maintains his respectful demeanor and does not send the lady away despite her shockingly disloyal behavior (1182-1289). Gawain does not do as he should, tell the woman to leave, because of his fear to offend her as “courtesy forbade” such actions (1661). He is so tied to his desire to be polite and appropriate—no matter how inappropriate the behavior of Lady Bertilak—he cannot send the woman away despite the threatening manner in which Bertilak slaughters the caught game of the day. He allows a married woman to not only enter his bedchamber but also his bed, holding his hands and talking for hours. Sir Gawain’s morality has begun to falter. He does, however, hold up his end of his promise to Bertilak to exchange what they each garnered from the day, until the third and final day in Bertilak’s company.

               At the moment when Gawain refuses the lady’s sexual advances, but accepts her green girdle, he has truly lost sight of his chivalric quest. With the girdle supposedly comes invincibility, and instead of recognizing the fact that a woman who lives in a castle that appeared from thin air is offering him a magic girdle probably is not trustworthy or (more likely) is a fairy, he takes the girdle. Many would consider this moment Sir Gawain’s downfall in many ways. By taking the garment Sir Gawain has not only rejected his chivalric duty, he has strayed from the protection from the Virgin Mary, Christianity, and also accepted the gift in order to cheat his way out of death by the Green Knight’s axe. Though these judgments of Sir Gawain are founded, (even more so when he does not present the girdle to Bertilak) it is not his defining moment or the action that set him beyond the reach of chivalric rules and Christian values. In accepting the girdle, however, he has shown the fairies that he has become a weak, lost knight. He has betrayed an honorable oath, and for that he is most vulnerable. Moreover, Gawain’s taking the girdle is telling in relation to the strength of his will and his concepts of chivalry. It is all fogging together in Gawain’s mind—he has become quite delicate.

               However it is not until his final interaction with the Green Knight that Sir Gawain’s honor is lost and, therefore, any true success in his chivalric quest. When he meets with the great knight, and kneels before him to be struck—as agreed by the rules of the game from the year previous—Gawain is provoked into an action of fear: “As down [the axe] descended with death-dealing force, /And his shoulders shrank a little from the sharp iron” (2266-67). Sir Gawain shirks at the moment before his probable death. He shirks despite the magic girdle, despite the Virgin Mary, despite his chivalric duties and, most of all, despite his honor. This motion is most likely the most honest gesture to come from any citizen of Camelot. With his shudder he has lost sight of all that he has learned, held in high respect, and practiced. He has literally shrugged off the culture and code of Camelot that he so neurotically abides by, and tried to apply to the wild rules of nature and the playful truths of the fairy realm. The main reason that this shrinking shows Gawain’s failure more than the acceptance of the girdle, is that he always has the opportunity to repent his misjudgments. Yes, he betrayed chivalric code and the Virgin Mary. He made an erroneous decision and accepted a gift that he should have rejected. His “shrinking shoulders,” however, involved no judgment at all. The motion was a very basic, reactive motion, and Gawain gave into it. The fairies weakened his sense of values and beliefs. So he shirked. The knight, however, has no such luxury. He must never act instinctively, but rather constantly apply the codes learned in his chivalric training (as Gawain so painfully attempts to do) to each and every moment of his life. Gawain revealed himself in a moment of instinct, and for this reason he has failed his chivalric quest.

               The Green Knight teases Gawain amicably when he reacts to Gawain’s telling moment:       

This is the ultimate insult: this might fairy has more honor than a knight of Camelot! The Green Knight is basically goading him to act more honorably. Yet even when Gawain demands to be struck again, (another ridiculous mistake) he makes excuses for his shameful act: “if my head falls to the floor /There is no mending me!” (2282-83). Sir Gawain is mortified by the motion and by the Green Knight’s playful mocking, and shows his embarrassment through his brash demand for another blow and his excuses. Despite the vast differences between both lands, (one without rules and the other littered with them) both representatives from each world see the shame in Gawain’s shrinking. The Green Knight knows that instinct is not a possibility for a knight from Camelot. Gawain, in the end, does manage to stand “still as a stone” (2293) and receives the slight stroke he has journeyed to receive. Gawain’s sense of honor is lost, so his main concern is to simply leave his meeting with the Green Knight with his head still attached. Once the Green Knight has drawn blood, Gawain is satisfied with a completed quest, though lacking chivalric honor. He knows his shame but wants his life. This is the very notion that prompted his shudder in the first place—his appointing the worth of life over honor—a decidedly selfish and cowardly judgment in Camelot

               Gawain’s sense of duty is returned to him once he learns of the Green Knight’s plot and subsequent success in breaking his morals and ideals. He rejects the Green Knight’s offer to remain with the fairies, and chooses to bear the garden girdle as a mark to repent his sinful and un-chivalric decisions. Upon returning to Camelot, however, King Arthur and subsequently the court of Camelot, belittles the weight of Gawain’s experiences, as well as his girdle he bears with shame. Arthur insures court will forget the strength and abilities of the fairy realm by laughing at and comforting Gawain, and giving girdles to the entire court (2513-2516). With this dispersal, the girdle no longer shows shame, but fashion; it is emptied of its emotional value. Yet Gawain keeps the portion of his tale concerning his shirking to himself. The lords, ladies, knights, and nobility of Camelot never learn of his disgraceful action that provoked even the Green Knight to chide him. Although he readily bears his shameful acceptance of the girdle in full view, that moment of dishonor he chooses to bear within. Only his heart and the Green Knight will ever know of the moment he shuddered against the thought of the blade.