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"Awen yn codi o'r cudd, yn cydio'r cwbl"
- Waldo Williams
(Awen arising from hiding, everything binding)



Showing posts with label Welsh History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Welsh History. Show all posts

Labyrinthine Duplicity



Iolo Morganwg is often credited with single-handedly creating many of the institutions of Welsh culture, in particular the ceremonies of the Gorsedd of Bards and the ethos of the National Eisteddfod. At least some of the sources he cited to support the results of his antiquarian research were genuine, but where there were gaps he filled them with convincing inventions based on what his intuition told him ought to be there. For many years after his death in 1826 he was regarded by some as a valuable remembrancer of lost cultural artefacts (though others had their doubts even then), but the more stringent scholarly atmosphere of the twentieth century unmasked him as a forger on a spectacular scale.


Many have been troubled by the lack of consistency of a man who was both a champion of ‘the truth against the world’, a rationalist in religion and politics, yet a romantic dreamer in his creation of celticism and revived bardic lore. But why expect consistency? As a cultural historian he has been found wanting – or, rather, found out. But it seems that we are now at sufficient historical remove from his times to begin to regard him as a part of the history that he dealt in. He can now be set in his own context as a contributor to a process of cultural reclamation rather than a lone fantasist imagining the return of the Druids. He was, after all, as Prys Morgan points out, as much the heir as the creator of the revival of interest in Welsh antiquity.

His own very real achievements both in antiquarian research and in original creation were many. The initial credibility of his forgeries of Dafydd ap Gwilym and other early poets indicates that he was, himself, not only well-read in the style and techniques of strict-metre poetry but also a talented poet in his own right. Ceri Lewis suggests that his productions – whether forged or not – are “among the most splendid creations of the Welsh muse in the eighteenth century”. Lewis relates the development of the urge to forge from early impulses to ‘polish’ or complete early poems that he had collected. Later his wish to promote theories of bardic lore and the virtues of his native Glamorgan led him to invent examples that he thought ‘ought’ to be extant to illustrate his arguments.

His relationships with Owain Myfyr (who financed the publication of The Myvyrian Archaiology of Wales), with William Owen Pughe (his unwitting associate) and with Edward ‘Celtic’ Davies (his rival) all indicate a man who was both infuriating to work with and ungrateful to those who helped him. But the fact that each of these men at points of strain had doubts about the authenticity of the early material that Iolo had ‘discovered’ only points to the fact that, when he was telling them what they wanted to hear, they were only too ready to put the doubts on one side and were therefore to some extent complicit in his deceptions.

If the very multiplicity (not to mention duplicity) of his dubious activities are seen as a distraction from the recognition of his own considerable talents as a poet, he is now being rediscovered as a free metre poet in his own right. By the time he had composed the first drafts of his Cyfrinach Beirdd Ynys Prydain while in a debtors’ prison in Cardiff, in spite of representing himself simply as ‘a journeyman mason’, he also wished to be regarded as an accomplished poet. Whiling away the time in that debtors prison, Iolo had turned his thoughts to a poet called Edward Dafydd, who had lived a hundred years earlier. Then he went on to place the real poet in a fictional eisteddfod of 1681 at which a metrical system called the ‘Dosbarth Morgannwg’ was codified. He claimed this had been in existence before the 24 ‘Cerdd Dafod’ metres codified by Dafydd Edmwnd in 1453. Iolo’s ‘cyfrinach’ (mystery) was a metrical system that included accentual as well as syllabic methods of composition. Such ‘free metres’ accorded with his own practice as a poet when he was not imitating strict metre verse.

Iolo’s extended stay in London in the 1790s was intended to promote a collection of English poems and establish his reputation as the ‘Bard of Liberty’.  Poems Lyric and Pastoral (1794) reflect new influences during his time in London. Many of the poems were revised from earlier drafts, and not always to the good, while he awaited publication in London. It seems that even his own original compositions suffered from the ‘improving’ instinct. During this period of his life Iolo rubbed shoulders with many of the emerging literary and political figures of the time. He certainly knew Coleridge and it is likely that he was at least known to Worsdsworth.

Iolo Morganwg’s labyrinth of other interests (and they ranged from agricultural theory to architecture) is exhaustively covered in the 500 pages of A Rattleskull Genius : The Many Faces of Iolo Morganwg  edited by Geraint H. Jenkins  University of Wales Press  (2005) on which the above comments are based. The book is part of a series on his life and work which reflects the desire to re-claim Iolo as a national treasure. And why not?

The ELEGY for Llywelyn




Following the discussion in the previous entry about David Jones’ inscription commemorating the death of Llywelyn in 1282, here is my translation of the Elegy for Llywelyn written by his court bard Gruffudd ap yr Ynad Coch . Some people in Wales still wear an ivy leaf to remember this occasion on 11th December each year. People also gather annually at the memorial stone (above) at Cilmeri near Llanfair ym Muallt (Builth Wells) where he was killed. There are good line-by-line translations of the Elegy, notably Gwyn Williams’ parallel text (Welsh facing English) in The Burning Tree (Faber 1956 - not currently in print) and Tony Conran in Welsh Verse- see here: http://www.gwales.com/bibliographic/?isbn=9781854110817


My free translation - revisted now from 20 years ago - does not follow the original line by line but does remain true to the narrative development in spite of contracting many lines from two or three to one and slightly altering the exact order of the lines in places. Although I worked closely from the original when I did the translation, looking at it now with the benefit of hindsight there are some things that I could have done differently. I tried to produce a readable and accessible version of the poem which conveys something of the power as well as the narrative of the original. So I concentrated on creating something that worked in English. The poem opens like this:



Oer gallon dan vron o vraw allwynin
(Cold heart under breast of fear sad)

am vrenin, derwin ddôr, Aberffraw
(For a king, oak door, Aberffraw)

Gwyn Williams renders the final “allwynin” as “pitiful”. Tony Conran uses “grieved” and maintains the use of the dash between ‘vraw’ and ‘allwynin’(a device used in some Welsh editions of the text to maintain the end-rhyme “-aw” which occurs throughout the poem). I abandoned the word together with the literal rendering of the king as the oak door for the idea of the heart of oak lying cold behind the door, though keeping the idea ‘strength is vanquished’. The “cold heart” reference also occurs later in the poem:


Oeruelawc callon dan vronn o vraw
(
cold heart under a breast of fear)

rewydd val crinwyd yssyn crinaw
(
lustiness like dried sticks which have shrivelled)

Pony welwch chwi hynt y gwynt a’r glaw?
(
do you not see the course of the wind and the rain)

Pony welwch chwi’r deri yn ymdaraw?
(
do you not see the oaks clashing?)

Pony welwch chwi’r môr yn merwinaw yr tir?
(
do you not sea the sea irritating the land?)
Here the translation of the word ‘merwinaw’ was an issue. The dictionary gives this is meaning ‘grate (on)’, ‘cause pain to’ or ‘itch’. “Stinging” is chosen by both Tony Conran and Gwyn Williams while I preferred “scouring”. But it is the series of lines that begin with the phrase “Pony welwch chwi …” and other sections of the poem where repetition of a phrase is employed for several consecutive lines, that now seems significantly absent in my version. I chose instead to force it onto to a culminating “Do you not see?” in order to use English rhymes to emphasise the main verbs and used some repetition elsewhere to convey the effect. While a direct translation would have to replicate this, the attempt to create a new version has to make its own decisions about what works in the new language. Any translation is a matter of balance but the balance here is more towards what I felt worked in English than providing an exact but possibly awkward version of the Welsh. There is, for example, another section where the word ‘arglwydd’ (lord) is the first word for several lines, sometime followed by an adjective which would have to come first in English. I also departed from the first person singular of Gruffudd’s original after the first stanza to convey the wider social gloom which overtook the Welsh followers of Llywelyn at this time. The event signalled the end of Wales as an independent nation and preceded a period of intense castle building by Edward I who had his son invested as Prince of Wales in the newly built castle at Caernarfon.


*

The heart of oak is cold
behind the gates of Aberffraw.
The hand that gave gold
is still now – I cannot wear it,
the apparel he put about me.
This grief for my lord is a cloud on my soul
This grief for the fate that his wounds brought us
confounds the red spear of Cadwalader’s keeping.

For us now the darkness,
the hatred of Saxons
A time of lamenting
in the life left to us
A time now to praise him
to think of his glory
to reproach even God
who has left us without him;
For him life eternal.

What now for us left
with a full load of weeping?
The dark hand that felled him
haunts his kingdom; his hall now the grave.
A long vista of fear stretches before us.

Lord Christ deliver him
for the sake of our sorrow,
Heavy the sword blows that struck him to earth
Heir of brave princes, his flame
burned brightly: strong Lion of Gwynedd
Great was the need of the strength of his throne
All Britain was struck down with Nantcoel’s defender.

Tears running on maiden’s cheeks
Blood flowing from warriors gashes
and trodden into the mire of our land.
Widows keening with hearts broken
and sons without fathers, their homes
-charred ruins – fired and looted.
Not since Camlann has there been such weeping
Gone is our mainstay, his golden hair
stained with a death blow O Llywelyn!
My mind cannot grasp it.

Hearts chilled by a pall of fear
Our life-will withers like weeds in Winter
as the wind dashes the rains upon us
and the oaks clash
and the sea’s crash scours the land:
Do you not see?
The Sun falls and the stars are shrinking!
Can you not believe our world is ending?
O God, why does the sea not rush over the shore?
Why should this life trouble us more?
Wretched we are and clasped in fear
with no-where to turn and terror’s grip tightening
and only life’s shackles to loosen our burden.

All his followers now cast down,
his lords and his servants,
the weak and the strong, all of us suffer
Why should we value a head on our shoulders
when he is without one?

His head has fallen and with it our pride
Fear and surrender are all we have left
His head has fallen – a dragon’s head
Noble it was , fierce to our foes
His head is stuck with an iron pole
The searing pain of it runs through my soul,
This land is empty – our spirit cut down.
His head had honour in nine hundred lands
Proud king, swift hawk, fierce wolf
True Lord of Aberffraw
His only refuge
the Kingdom of Heaven.


First published in AGENDA (Vol 26, No. 3) and reprinted together with the original and the translations of Gwyn Williams and Tony Conran in Materion Dwyieithog/Bilingual Matters (1989).