Afterword
The original Mabinogion probably took centuries to form and coalesce, but I wrote this book very quickly, in a couple of months, and I really enjoyed the experience.
First I read the preceding books in this new Seren series, and I got something from all of them, though I particularly liked Niall Griffiths’ boisterous contribution so I stole some of his sulphur for my own use. I like this idea of a modern take on the fables, though it directly contravenes the tradition of the Celtic storytellers, who told it as their grandfathers did, with no extra bits, in a formal and dignified manner. One factor I found especially interesting: were the authors looking towards the Old World as they wrote their stories, or towards the New World? When I was a young man I was actively aware of the ties and the traffic between Wales and Ireland, and I was conscious of the Celtic countries’ ancient (but never moribund) dance around each other, and around England too. I refer in my story to a special relationship, but not the arranged marriage between Britain and the US, rather the brotherhood between Wales, Ireland, Cornwall and Brittany, created by blood ties and the resultant cultural connections. Of course America has long been important to Wales; at least eight presidents have had Welsh ancestry, but with the recent blooming of a global US pop culture via TV and the web it seems to me that American culture has swamped Britain and skewed the island’s cultural axis, so that Celtica has faded from general consciousness, other than some woolly and romantic tosh seen on our screens, with the Potterisation of Merlin being a typical example. How many modern Welsh people have read that Irish classic The Táin? How many had delved into The Islandman by Tomás O’Crohan and Robin Flower, or The Aran Islands by J.M. Synge? How many of them have heard of Sorley MacLean or his quintessentially Celtic poem, ‘Hallaig’?
The Mabinogion in general, and the third branch in particular, owes a great deal to Ireland, Manawydan himself coming from across the water. Originally a five-star sea god, he was made mortal by the Welsh and rendered as a clean cut nice guy, a Sean Connery figure who’d retired because he didn’t want the agro any more. In the American version George Clooney would be cast as a tired but still attractive ex-federal agent inveigled into one last assault on the Mob. He’s still cool and he’s still a fixer, but he wants to stay poolside with a tall drink and good company. This turn-the-other-cheek side to the Welsh Manawydan smacks of Christianisation, but I’m no expert.
Having written some pretty outlandish stuff in my time – I didn’t realise how strange I was until I wrote a book – I decided to play it straight with this story, mainly because I was writing to commission and didn’t want to let the side down. I would have loved to write it as noir or noir pastiche, and I think Malcolm Pryce would have had a field day, but I haven’t his talent. So here it is, my version of the third branch. I feel privileged to be part of this venture, since I’m in pretty impressive company. I have tried to reflect the huge, unpeopled landscapes of prehistory – the space, the light, the silence, the epic time spans. I have also tried to reflect the Celts’ fabled absorption with detail, as seen in their metal work and decorative artwork; the computer memory sticks in my story are the equivalent of decorated capitals in the Book of Kells. I’ve told the story from the viewpoint of the ‘baddie’ and I’ve tweaked his motives for revenge; I hope purists will forgive me. Otherwise I’ve played it pretty straight. I have to admit that during the process I felt no fellow-feeling with the original story-tellers, who would be appalled, probably, by the liberties I’ve taken.
This is a ground-breaking series and I congratulate Seren on their foresight; I’m surprised that the Welsh-language publishers didn’t do it a long time ago. The Triads would be an obvious consideration.
And so finally I come to the Anglo-Welsh tradition, which I suspect is coming to an end, or at least entering a different phase. Maybe this series is a fitting epitaph to a century of English writing by people with deep roots in the Welsh tradition. How many people will write in both languages in future? We have only a handful now, and as our written culture splits quite clearly into Welsh writing and English writing in Wales, a new future beckons.
I hope you enjoy my book.