Something New

 

I mentioned that north Pembrokeshire was one of the areas of Wales that still had folk songs in the early and mid-twentieth century. Why only North? South Pembrokeshire is an odd place, the one area besides the Gower peninsula that was settled by the English in the Middle Ages: settled so thoroughly that it was known as Little England Beyond Wales. The dividing line between Little England and North Pembrokeshire, called the Landsker, ran northwest to southeast from south of Solva (northwest) to Narberth, more or less, and was pretty stable until the twentieth century, when Welsh parishes on the border starting turning to English. Today there’s no thoroughly Welsh-speaking parish but the Gwaun valley.

The Welsh dialect was very very different from Standard Welsh and even from the adjoining Welsh areas: so much so that it was joked about. It was a real backwater in a lot of ways and was maybe the closest thing to rural Western Ireland in Wales. Some of the more “magical” parts of the Mabinogion are set there (in Dyfed), and there were perhaps more folk tales about the Otherworld recorded there than anywhere else in Wales.

Below is a video of a Welsh TV interview with Dic Harris (of Puncheston?). He tells about odd things he’s seen: second sight and people from ancient times (?) and fairies, He’s saying that his mother strongly believed in fairies when the interview peters out. (The interviewer is from the north. See if you spot the guttural vowels.)



I’m not suggesting there’s any link, but the area was settled from Munster (Na Déisi) in Ireland in the fifth century and ogam stones are more common there than anywhere else in Wales. It’s thought that the area was bilingual Irish/Welsh for centuries, and the ruling Irish dynasty lasted until the tenth century. St David’s, the important episcopal seat later, was an Irish monastery to begin.

No one has claimed there’s Irish language influence on the dialect, but Dyfed/Pembrokeshire (plus a small Cardigan/Carmarthenshire fringe) was a distinct area for many centuries, within which specific linguistic processes proceeded or didn’t differently than in surrounding areas.

(Although someone did point out that the dialect follows the Irish pattern as against the Welsh pattern in saying “There’s no X…”: “Níl aon X/Does un X as opposed to “Does dim X”.

Waldo Williams was one of the great Welsh poets of the Twentieth Century: the greatest in my opinion. He was a pacifist/anti-military and suffered a lot for his beliefs. What’s this got to do with anything? Well, he and Father Pádraig Ớ Fiannachta from just west of Dingle, (a great scholar and the man who did more than everybody else combined to try to bring Irish literature and scholarship to the attention of Gaeltacht people) were good friends. (Unfortunately, most Gaeltacht people were more interested in what Gay Byrnes had to say than Irish.)



Below are two Waldo Williams poems, the first recited, the second translated by me into English.




             Oherwyd Ein Dyfod
 
            Because we have come to the quiet room,
            in the timeless cavern that (always) was,
            and have gone out to the slender roots                                  
            and to the apples that are like jewels;
            have gone out through the dark roots,
            out to the light of the hearth,
            as I followed after that warm heart,
            which is star of my night, secret of my day.
 
            And a kiss that returns to every star
            in the depths of the archipelago;        
            two breasts that renew the earth,
            two arms that shelter the land;
            because we have come to the strong house
            whose stillness is the foundation of our love’s joy,
            and because the world arrives in the depths of blessings
            around the sound of the feet of my beautiful girl.
                                                                                                -Waldo Williams (1904-71)

 

The first Welsh folk rock singer was Meic Stephens from the area (Solva) and was wildly popular in the Seventies, Lowri Evans is a contemporary singer from there and is also good.


(The song contrasts the Little People (native Welsh) to English second-home buyers who drive around in Land Rovers etc. and figure they can buy everything and anything, but..."We don't need your money or your company, not today, thank you.".

So it’s an interesting area, but I wanted to give a few penillion from other areas that I claim are so good and here they are, a handful out of hundreds:

                       
           
 
Penillion
 
1          Oh, were that we were as once we were,
            with neither love or hate between us,
            and were that we had never been born
            if now we will have to say farewell.
 
2          I have a sprig of rosemary
            on the top of Penmaenmawr it’s growing.
            When my love does pass it by
            then that sprig of rosemary will bloom.
 
3          It’s easier to lift up the sea in a spoon
            and put it all inside of an eggshell
            than it would be ever to turn my thoughts,
            my dear little love, away from you.
 
            It’s easier to grind the rock to powder
            and put it all inside of a little box
            than it would be to ever turn my thoughts,
            my dearest love, away from you.
 
4          Why do you need to be so upset
            just because someone else likes me?
            Though the wind will shake the branches,
            you’d need a pick to get the roots up.
 
5          It’s difficult to braid the river’s water
            into a basket of green birch twigs.
            It’s two times more difficult than that
            to come between two who love truly.
 
6          The great sea is full of sand and rock;
            the egg is full of white and yellow;
            the wood is full of leaves and flowers;
            I am full of the love of a woman.
 
7          By the side of the sea there is a level rock
            and it's there that I used to speak with my dear love.
            and all around this the lily flowers grow,
            and here and there a sprig of rosemary.
 
8          My heart is as heavy as a ball of lead
            through love of a young man: I will not name him.
            Since I said farewell to that dearest boy,
            all food and drink tastes like wormwood to me.
 
 
9          There is the grove of glorious birch;
            there is the star of the three islands;
            there is the boy with the gentle glance;
            there is the breaking of many a heart.

 

A description of penillion singing from Edward Jones' "Musical and Poetical Relicks of the Welsh Bards", based on the description in Thomas Pennant's ""Journey to Snowdon", 1781.

 "Numbers of persons of both sexes assemble and sit around the Harp, singing alternately Pennillion, or stanzas, of ancient or modern composition...The young people usually begin the night with dancing; and, when they are tired, assume this species of relaxation. They alternately sing, dance, and drink...Often, like the modern Improvisatori of Italy, they sing extempore verses...Many have their memories stored with several hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Pennillion, some of which they have always ready for answers to every subject that can be proposed; or, if their recollection should ever fail them, they have invention to compose something pertinent and proper for the occasion. The subjects afford a great deal of mirth: some of these are jocular, others satirical, but most of them amorous...They continue singing without intermission, never repeating the same stanza, (for, that would forfeit the honour of being held first of the song,) and, like nightingales, support the contest through the night."

 Like I said, they’re still sung today in a concert format, but as memorized stanzas sung to plodding harp accompaniment.

Interestingly enough, something similar (no harps) still existed in the original form in the most remote and traditional part of Brittany (Bro Plinn, ie. Lanrivain, St. Nicodeme, Canihuel, Kerpert, Magoar etc) in the nineteen-seventies.  There they were called Kan a Boz (Song with Words). An example is given in the Dastum record and book on Bro Plinn. I never heard about anything like it anywhere else in Brittany, but Bro Plinn was then remote and very traditional. 

Now nowhere is remote and traditional anywhere.


This above is not what you'd call traditional, but the stanzas are "penillion" and it's all I can find. Yann-Fanch Kemener, the singer, was from Bro Plinn, and the music is great and so are the dances. Below are some tunes for the dance of the area from one of the original dance bands, "Mountain Devils".





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