Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Byron in Venice. A reading.


A reading of Byron in Venice. The link should take you to the audio.


 Byron in Venice

(The poet in exile)


The debris of a city in decline

slops at the crumbling steps,

as the sun sets over palaces 

even dusk can’t dignify.


The clock strikes, he puts down the page

and calls for servants. Suddenly

cannot remember if he is to meet

the opera singer or the serving maid.


No matter how elaborate the choreography,

his hands run free, his mind completes the rhyme.

Afterwards, duty done, excuses made, 

he’ll coax these stanzas to their climax 


and scrawl defiance on the blank of time’s indifference,

graffiti on the walls of history. 

He has explored the tangled pathways of his heart

and written travelogues for those who stayed at home.


If that leads here, to age and desolation;

the fading light, broken on the Grand Canal,

where life is repetition, and even lust grows stale;

the boys and women he has loved


the friends he misses as he dines alone,

faded signatures on bundled letters,

locks of hair, old arguments the night returns;

if it leads here; beyond the poem, what remains?


An aging face, once beautiful,  

staring through its own reflection,

soliciting an audience

to dignify the commonplace as art?

Poem is taken from 'From Rough Spun to Close Weave'.  Signed Copies available from the shop at Www.Liamguilar.com 

Thursday, January 6, 2022

Dafydd ap Gwilym's 'Love's affliction'. (Cystudd Cariad)

Continuing the Poetry Voice Podcast's aim to build an audio anthology of poems. This one by Dafydd ap Gwilym, one of the great poets of the Middle ages. And this is my candidate for a brilliant bit of creative translation.


Tuesday, January 4, 2022

The Poetry Voice Podcast returns!

 I didn't mean to take a year out. But I waited until the man next door had finished building his house and then the people on the other side decided to renovate. And while dogs, parrots, magpies, Australian weather and traffic are almost bearable as background, power tools and the Australian Tradesman's peculiar habit of cranking the volume on his radio and then putting noise protecting ear muffs on made the whole thing impossible,

First reading is from R.S.Thomas.


you can listen on Apple or Spotify, or directly from the website. 

If you're looking for a particular poem the index can be found here:


Clicking on either link will open the page in another window.

Friday, December 31, 2021

Publication: Chapter five of the story of Vortigern

The story of Vortigern continues. Chapter five is now up on the Brazen Head, and can be read at the link below.

While Vortigern's story might have an historical basis, this chapter is the first major slide from history as we might understand it to a narrative that feels more like a folk tale.


The story of Vortigern is the second of three stories taken from Laȝamon's late 12th Century 'Brut'. The first story was published as A Presentment of Englishry, by Shearsman books.

Friday, December 17, 2021

Who was King Arthur's father #2

The conventional answer is Uther Pendragon. But who was he and where did his story come from?

Early Welsh poetry and prose is a subject area where Angles should fear to tread. It is the province of specialists; I’m not one. 


But if we’re looking for the origin of Uther Pendragon then we have to go there. 

There are four broad possibilities. 



1)    Uther Pendragon was always Arthur’s father. This is so unlikely I’m just putting it here to be thorough.

2)    Geoffrey invented him. (This is also highly unlikely.)

3)    Uther is the result of a mis-translation. Either deliberate or otherwise.

4)    An Uther Pendragon existed in the Welsh Arthurian stories but may not have been Arthur’s Father. Geoffrey made the link, possibly due to option three.



The first option is so unlikely I won’t spend any time on it. The second could not be proven one way or the other.  


3) The Idea that Uther might be the result of a mistranslation or creative misunderstanding was floated by Perry. 


    ‘As to Uther Pendragon, whom Geoffrey credits with the begetting of Arthur, opinion is             divided as to whether there was a tradition about him or whether his name grew out of a             misunderstanding of the Welsh uthr, ‘terrible’. ‘


As an adjective, Uthr (Uthir) means: Fearful, dreadful, awful, terrible. tremendous, mighty, overbearing, cruel, wonderful, wondrous, astonishing, excellent. (GPC)


Generally in Welsh the adjective follows the noun it qualifies (not always, generally) so the meaning of something like Arthur mab uthr could be Arthur the terrible/wondrous child if uthr was read as an adjective or Arthur child/son of Uthr if uthr was read or mistaken for a proper noun.


In the world of the poems, such a misunderstanding would be easy. You can see this is something like the poem Mi a Wun


Mi a wum lle llas llachev
mab Arthur, uthir ig kertev

Ban yryeint brein arc rev


Nerys Ann Jones translates this as:


I have been where Llachau was slain

Son of Arthur, terrible in song

Where ravens rushed to gore [or Croaked on Gore]


As she says, it is difficult to know whether the conventional praise uthir ig kertev applies to father son or both. But she thinks it is unlikely uthir here refers to Arthur’s father. She writes; ‘Oliver Padel (personal correspondence) wonders whether Geoffrey of Monmouth might possibly have invented Arthur’s patronym from some phrase such as this.’ 


However, while I like this option, and keeping in mind the nightmare of dating these early references, an Uthur appears fully fledged as Uthir Pendragon in the poem Pa Gur and in Triad 28. 

He’s not named as Arthur’s father in either. 

In Pa Gur, one of the characters with Arthur is identified as:


Mabon, son of Modron,

The servant of Uthir Pendragon.


He also appears in triad 28.


Triad 28

Three great enchantments of the Island of Britain: 

The enchantment of Math son of Mathonwy (which he taught to Gwydion Son of Don) and the enchantment of Uthyr Pendragon (which he taught to Menw son of Teirgwaedd) and the enchantment of Gwythelyn the Dwarf which he taught to Coll son of Collfrewy his nephew.)


So against the idea that Geoffrey misunderstood or just seized on an idea, can be set Rachel’s Bromwich’s observation: ‘These references [to an early Uthur/Uthr/Uthyr/Uthir], taken together show that Uthyr was known in the pre-Geoffrey Arthurian tradition but they do not prove that, prior to HRB, he was known as Arthur’s father.’  p513


Bromwich also pointed out that in the story Culuwch and Olwen, Menw m. Teirgwaedd is distinguished as a shapeshifter and speculates that Uther’s ‘enchantment’ may have been shapeshifting. 


This in turn opens yet another possibility that the shape shifting conception story may have existed before Geoffrey, and the role of Merlin in Arthur’s conception is Geoffrey’s addition. 


However, if Geoffrey took an Uthur Pendragon and made him Arthur’s father, he seems to have misunderstood ‘Pendragon’. As we shall see he takes it literarily as ‘Head of the Dragon’ or ‘Dragon’s Head’…Bromwich was convinced that it would more likely have been ‘foremost leader’ or ‘chief of the warriors’. Dragon/draig appear in the early poetry as an accepted euphemism for ‘warriors’. 


So, with mind’s spinning joyfully, we can move onto firmer ground and the story of Uther as it appears in Geoffrey of Monmouth. 

(See previous post on this topic re references)

Saturday, December 4, 2021

Treacle Walker by Alan Garner

 Treacle Walker by Alan Garner.


I have been rereading this little book with great pleasure for some weeks. My admiration for Alan Garner’s writing, see here http://www.liamguilar.com/alan-garner,  is undiminished, and remains just this side of idolatry. 


But I’ve also been reading reactions to Treacle Walker. There’s a lot of discussion about meaning, and readers are off down the rabbit hole to learn about Bog Bodies and Knockout comics, folk beliefs about cuckoos and bone whistles, as they exist outside the story.


What does it mean? The question we learn in school. You read the book, or the poem, or the play, and someone asks you ‘what does it mean?’ and you have to provide a neat answer. 


It’s a linear, logical process, and it produces a reductive answer. Once you’ve answered the question you’ve made the story redundant. 


It’s one way of approaching a book, useful in a classroom where teachers have to assess language skills.


Two thoughts. 


If the story can only be understood after extensive research into a wide body of (possibly infinite) external information, then isn’t that proof the story fails as communication? By all means go and learn about Rag and Bone men, or comics and their essential role in teaching generations how to read. That won’t ‘explain’ the story.


Secondly: a more important question in terms of storytelling, rather than ‘what does this mean?’: ‘What does the story do to you, the reader?’


Between the first word and the last, there’s a space for thinking through and in language in a way that is unique to stories. Treacle Walker is not a memoir or an essay. It doesn't have to deliver a simple message that can be wrapped up in a clever summary. 

It doesn’t matter if you read every Knockout comic or know everything there is to know about Bog Bodies. It doesn’t matter if you’re not old enough to remember rag and bone men. 


What matters is what those images and phrases and individual words are doing for you, as reader, between the beginning and end of the story as you read it. Then in its afterlife in your head after you’ve finished reading. There is no exam; no right answer, and you don’t have impose your response on anyone else, or have theirs imposed on you.


The story means itself. Let it come to you. Have the humility to trust the story teller. It may not work for you. That’s fine. That says something about you, not the story.


But If you can reduce its meaning to a couple of neat sentences, it isn’t much of a story.

Saturday, November 27, 2021

The Green Knight. (Film). A review of sorts


As someone who has opinionated about the depressing quality of filmed versions of Medieval stories, the hype surrounding The Green Knight was certainly exciting: art house meets medieval poetry. 
Reviews were very positive, I think I read two five star reviews in the Guardian alone. 
A medieval heart of darkness, a journey into the wilderness to confront the limitations of an ideology. They didn't say that, that's one way of thinking about the poem. Imagine what a young Herzog could have done with it.
So I watched the film twice as soon as it appeared on whichever streaming service it appeared on.

I liked King Arthur's accent.