As a companion piece to my post on Scottish writers, I thought this week I would look at Welsh writers. Had I been even vaguely organised, I would have posted this 2 days ago to coincide with Dylan Thomas’ centenary, but better late than never….Firstly, a poem by Dannie Abse, a prolific poet who died in September this year.
(Image from: http://www.poetryarchive.org/poet/dannie-abse)
It’s so hard to describe Abse’s writing without resorting to clichés about Welsh writing; adjectives like lyrical force themselves to the fore. Judge for yourself: in Poem and Message (1955), Abse uses the idea of a loved one “Out on the tormented midnight sea” finding solace in words, and the poem of love those words create. You can read the whole poem here.
“so from this shore of cold I write
tiny flashes in the Night.
Words of safety, words of love
a beacon in the dark”
one small luminous truth
of which our usual love was proof.
It reminds me of Shakespeare’s sonnet 116 whereby love “is the star to every wand’ring bark”. Abse uses simple language, and a familiar trope of love as a guiding light, to create a sense of love’s unquestionable power; it doesn’t need complex metaphors and obscure polysyllabic words to heighten it. It ends with a beautifully direct couplet:
And I call your name as loud I can
and give you all the light I am.”
(Image from: http://www.unc.edu/~rowlett/lighthouse/irlsw.htm)
Secondly, and in direct contrast to Abse’s refined feeling, Submarine by Joe Dunthorne (Penguin, 2008). Oliver Tait is 15 and lives with his parents in Swansea. His father is depressed and his mother:
“I have not established the correct word for my mother’s condition. She is lucky because her mental health problems can be mistaken for character traits: neighbourliness, charm and placidity. I’ve learnt more about human nature from watching ITV’s weekday morning chat shows than she has in her whole life. I tell her ‘You are unwilling to address the vacuum in your interpersonal experiences,’ but she does not listen.”
Oliver is entirely typical and entirely untypical of a teenager. He is convinced of his own superiority, passively observes the bullying of his classmates, is desperate to lose his virginity to the pyromaniac Jordana, and makes up stories about his neighbours:
“‘I know Mr Sheridan quite well, Oliver. He’s a painter decorator,’ he says…..
‘Andrew, he has the eyes and overalls of a killer,’ I say.”
Oliver is an outsider in his own life, and his voice is detached while seeking to belong. The teenage conundrum – wanting to be entirely different and entirely the same as everyone else. Even Oliver’s beloved Jordana lets him down:
“She’s been sensitised, turned gooey in the middle.
“I saw it happening and I didn’t do anything to stop it. From now on, she’ll be writing diaries and sometimes including little poems and she’ll buy gifts for her favourite teachers and she’ll admire scenery and she’ll watch the news and she’ll buy soup for homeless people and she’ll never burn my leg hair again.”
Submarine is hilarious and yet still achieves a sensitive evocation of the torturous time of adolescence. I could have picked almost any page at random and found a quotable line. Yes, it’s that good. Just one proviso: don’t read it on the train unless you want to be one of those annoying people trying to muffle snorts of laughter between the pages, which I totally was…
There was a film adaptation of Submarine (dir. Richard Ayoade) in 2011: