The History of Wales in Twelve Poems , livre ebook

The History of Wales in Twelve Poems
I’m teulu a’m ffrindiau oll, sy ac a fu. And in memory of Neil Reeve (1953–2018).

 
The History of Wales in Twelve Poems
M. WYNN THOMAS Illustrations by Ruth Jên Evans
Text © M. Wynn Thomas, 2021 Illustrations © Ruth Jên Evans, 2021
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any material form (including photocopying or storing it in any medium by electronic means and whether or not transiently or incidentally to some other use of this publication) without the written permission of the copyright owner. Applications for the copyright owner’s written permission to reproduce any part of this publication should be addressed to the University of Wales Press, University Registry, King Edward VII Avenue, Cardiff CF10 3NS.
www.uwp.co.uk
British Library CIP Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN     978-1-78683-766-0 eISBN   978-1-78683-768-4
The right of M. Wynn Thomas to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 79 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Cover design: Olwen Fowler
Powerful nations have great poets;
small nations have tragic poets.
They do our dying for us, whisper the
powerful nations, sensing the insecurity
of their power. In this way we produce
great poets, whisper the small nations.
George Szirtes
Contents
Acknowledgements
Preface
1 ANEIRIN Y Gododdin (extract)
2 ANON. Pais Dinogad
3 ANON. Stafell Gynddylan (from Canu Heledd)
4 GRUFFUDD AB YR YNAD COCH Marwnad Llywelyn ap Gruffudd
5 DAFYDD AP GWILYM Trafferth mewn Tafarn
6 HENRY VAUGHAN The World
7 ANON. Hen Benillion
8 ANN GRIFFITHS (DOLWAR FACH) Wele’n sefyll rhwng y myrtwydd
9 GWENALLT Y Meirwon
10 DYLAN THOMAS Fern Hill
11 GILLIAN CLARKE Blodeuwedd
12 MENNA ELFYN Siapauo Gymru
Acknowledgements
Aneirin, ‘Y Gododdin’, Thomas Parry (ed.), Oxford Book of Welsh Verse (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), pp. 1–2; trans. M. Wynn Thomas.
Anon., ‘Pais Dinogad’, Thomas Parry (ed.), Oxford Book of Welsh Verse (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), pp. 7–8; trans. Tony Conran, Welsh Verse (Bridgend: Seren Books, 2003), p. 117.
Anon., ‘Stafell Gynddylan’, Thomas Parry (ed.), Oxford Book of Welsh Verse (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), p. 12; ‘Cynddylan’s Hall’, trans. Tony Conran, Welsh Verse (Bridgend: Seren Books, 2003), p. 12.
Gruffydd ab yr Ynad Coch, ‘Marwnad Llywelyn ap Gruffudd’, Thomas Parry (ed.), Oxford Book of Welsh Verse (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), pp. 47–8; ‘Elegy for Llywelyn ap Gruffydd‘, trans. Tony Conran, Welsh Verse (Bridgend: Seren Books, 2003), p. 163.
Dafydd ap Gwilym, ‘Trafferth mewn Tafarn’, dafyddapgwilym.net ; trans. M. Wynn Thomas.
Henry Vaughan, ‘The World’, L. C. Martin (ed.), Henry Vaughan, Poetry and Prose (London: Oxford University Press, 1963), pp. 299–301.
Anon., ‘Hen Benillion’, T. H. Parry-Williams (ed.), Hen Benillion (Llandysul: Gwasg Gomer, 2010), pp. 28–9; ‘Harp stanzas’, trans. Glyn Jones, A People’s Poetry: Hen Benillion (Bridgend: Seren Books, 1997), pp. 160–1.
Ann Griffiths, ‘Wele’n sefyll rhwng y myrtwydd’; ‘See – there stands’, trans. Joseph P. Clancy, Other Words: Essays, Poetry and Translation (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1999), p. 27.
Gwenallt, ‘Y Meirwon’, Christine James (ed.), Cerddi Gwenallt: Y Casgliad Cyflawn (Llandysul: Gwasg Gomer, 2001), pp. 139–40; ‘The Dead’, trans. Tony Conran, Welsh Verse (Bridgend: Seren Books, 2003), p. 163.
Dylan Thomas, ‘Fern Hill’, Walford Davies and Ralph Maud (eds), Dylan Thomas: Collected Poems, 1934 – 1953 (London: Dent, 1988), pp. 134–5. © 1945 by the Trustees for the Copyrights of Dylan Thomas. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp. and David Higham Associates.
Gillian Clarke, ‘Blodeuwedd’, Collected Poems (Manchester: Carcanet, 1992), pp. 69–70.
Menna Elfyn, ‘Siapau o Gymru’/‘The Shapes She Makes’ (trans. Elin ap Hywel), Eucalyptus (Llandysul: Gomer, 1995), pp. 98–101.
Preface
H aving, like their cousins the Irish, a long, ancient taproot in a Celtic culture, the Welsh have always revered the number three. From the ancient Tribannau and Trioedd Ynys Prydain, to the three feathers in the badge of the medieval Prince of Wales, to the persistence to this day of the popular saying ‘Tri chynnig i Gymro’ (Three tries for a Welshman), the three has been accorded mystic status. And in modern times, even the phrase ‘three tries’ has taken on a different meaning, as the Welsh rugby team have a distinguished record of winning the premier home nations title of the Triple Crown. With all of this in mind, let me conform to established cultural practice and offer three reasons for writing this book.
First, there is the plight of the Invisible Nation. When, half a century ago, I read Ralph Ellison’s classic novel Invisible Man (before discovering it had been begun when he was a GI in Swansea), what struck me even beyond its unforgettable account of the complex fate of being an African-American was that the narrative had unexpectedly offered me a fascinating glimpse of myself. I was of course fully aware that there was not the slightest comparison between my own sorry plight and the immense tragedy of Ellison and his people, but I still couldn’t help reflecting that I too knew what it was to be invisible. From an early age, I had intuited that the Welsh were not only invisible to the world at large, but that they were also, tragically, mostly invisible even to themselves. That invisibility – deriving as it obviously does from long centuries of subordination, marginalisation, and assimilation – has continued to haunt and to frustrate me. This brief history is therefore an attempt to make my Wales just a little easier to see.
As for the second reason for writing, it can best be expressed through the story of Tinker Bell. She, it will be remembered, is the fey fairy in J. M. Barrie’s Peter Pan . Yes, she can be mischievous, wilful, even spiteful, but in the end she is a deeply poignant creation. Her very existence, signified by the frail glow of light she emits, is entirely dependent on there being children enough who stubbornly continue, even in the face all the scoffing scepticism of the modern world of adult experience, to believe in fairies. And as the narrative proceeds to its conclusion, so does Tinker Bell’s fragile gleam grow ever fainter, extinguished at last in the darkness of her total extinction.
The Welsh, I have long felt, are not only an invisible people, they are a Tinker Bell of a people. For almost as long as the history of Wales itself, theirs has had to be a survivor culture’s precarious, conditional, identity. Devoid of the robust supporting mechanism of an established state, and lacking the complex infrastructure necessary to ensure the safe transmission of a national culture, the Welsh have had no choice but to exist by effortfully choosing to do so and by constantly improvising strategies of self-renewal. In no other instance than theirs has Renan’s famous description of nationhood as a daily plebiscite seemed more apt. This mini-history is therefore an attempt to ensure that the light of this Tinkerbell people continues to burn for a short while longer, at least.
And thirdly? Well, it concerns the poets. Wales is often recognised as the home of significant singers, from stars of popular culture such as Shirley Bassey, Tom Jones and Katherine Jenkins to giants of the operatic stage, such as Bryn Terfel, Gwyneth Jones, Geraint Evans and Rebecca Evans. Welsh actors likewise enjoy a good reputation – for their acting, if not always for their lifestyles – witness Richard Burton, Anthony Hopkins, Siân Phillips, Michael Sheen and Catherine Zeta Jones.
But what of the poets of Wales? True, the Welsh national anthem (‘Hen Wlad fy Nhadau’/’Land of my Fathers’) proudly trumpets Wales to be ‘gwlad beirdd a chantorion’ (a land of poets and singers). And, oh dear me, yes, there is the evergreen Dylan Thomas. But is there life beyond Dylan? Has there ever been?
The answer is a resounding yes, and yes again. Such is the depth and pedigree of Welsh poetry that it is even questionable whether Dylan Thomas should be treated as the pre-eminent figure in a millennium and a half of tradition.
The great Native American writer N. Scott Momaday has written: ‘We are what we imagine. Our very existence consists in the imagination of ourselves. The greatest tragedy that can befall us is to go unimagined.’ It is the poets of Wales, above all, who have carried that burden of imagining a nation down the many centuries.
This volume, therefore, sets out to place the poets of Wales at the very forefront of Welsh history. It is a position they deserve, by virtue not only of their quality but of the crucial role they have always played in the maintenance of a Welsh identity. Today, poetry in Wales, as throughout the western world, is socially marginalised, and no more than a minority interest. Yet still, important aspects of contemporary Welsh anglophone identity are perilously freighted by the popular image of Dylan Thomas’s stormy career and more accessible works.
But there is one important caveat that needs adding in this connection. There is no intention here to construct an anthology of the greatest poetry of Wales. Rather, the poems included in this rapid overview of 1,500 years of history have been selected primarily for their functional value: they simply offer the reader what I hope is an interesting way into the social, political and cultural history of the different phases of the long and varied Welsh past.
Finally, my warmest thanks to my good friends Professors Kirsti Bohata, Ceri Davies, Menna Elfyn and Dafydd Johnston for casting an eye over previous versions of this text, and offering valuable corrections and improvements. Diolch o galon ichi i gyd am eich trafferth.
M. Wynn Thomas
 
ANEIRIN
Y Gododd