[ox-en] cultural gatekeepers
- From: f g <adam diamat.org.uk>
- Date: Fri, 01 Feb 2008 12:37:43 +0000
welsh lore informs
that at the court held at caerleon
upon many days, there is no gatekeeper
but then in these many days, glewlwyd gafaelfawr
acts as porter, performs here
receives alike both guests and strangers
welcoming the lot o'them with honour,
making sure they kin the customs, manners
and forks them into hall, presence chamber
else sorts them up, then
and there
to take up their licenced lodging
glewlwyd exhibits the hospitable aspect
of a courteous host, draped in satin
an old celt actor
yellow, son of fair
in the irish -- buide mac mban
and as yellow, the porter
cold plays and riddles
sets the questions
stages as a threshold guardian
in the story of bricriu's feast
the heroes of the ulster cycle
provoked by jealousy to contention
are motioned to meet, fair yellow
for further trial and error
yellow greets and hosts them well
but can do little with these lads
so sends them on to a darker other
uath mac imomain
or in the english --
terror, son of big fear
in the overlapping tale
of the lady of the fountain
owain is similarly directed
by a yellow keeper
of a certain shining fortress
to go meet a one eyed giant
a limping bachlach
-- a herder of wild things --
who can be found, upwards
in a glade, at its mound
the bachlach, a wild thing itself
like merlin lost in madness
lives as lord of the forest,
a way shower of perspicacity
does thus sign posts owain
to the fountain, again found
ever upwards, well below
the greenest, lushest tree
the axial tree of celt tradition
enlightening waters that fructify
grouping times, dimensions, means
knowledge
and here, themes, springs
owain directed by himself and by the bachlach
to bring down a storm that devastates
that attracts both bird song
and a violent charger, garbed head to toe
in jet black armour, racing in
on a coal black steed
in the clash, owain bests
this black oppressor, who wounded
close to mortality, black flees away,
home, fortress
owain follows, through portcullis,
that drops down sharply
severing his mount beneath him
no formaldehyde,
his horse dissected, lies as meat
flies around his feet, owain ensnared,
exposed, becomes easy pickings
becomes the raven's fee
owain stuck, n m e is closing in
cue the music, cliff hanger ...
role the credits ...
second episode ...
begin again,
no way out for owain
cue one fair luned, who does befriend him
and now in space, cloaks him invisible,
undercover, ringed, they steal away
she cleans, feeds, keeps him, and
in time, works him out a cover story
for,
he's fallen for another
he's fallen for a glimpsed bewitching
a dark lady full of sorrow
so luned goes to court and woo
on his behalf, and suiting him
in yellow dress, and part disguise,
delivers him up, to her fare mistress
laced tight in shoes of golden lion
after much counsel, she
the dark women,
the grieving widow of the fountain
takes he, owain's hand in marriage
and for three years there after
now in defence, of lady's waters
owain acts as dark oppressor
here, still, awaits owain
once reeled around the fountain cycle
wrapping the tale once began
by the dreamer of caerleon
about a distant court's existence
over seas, exotic, yellow, foreign
where resides fare woman
by the dozen, and this her, here
the foulest she, hear
fairer still, than striking gwenhwyvar ...
welsh culture, the above is
half o'romantic story of
the matter of britain, see
well, i say the matter of britain
but then these tales, before being writ
sprang from the rich oral tongue
then being spoke, by a group o'folk
oppressed in the dark ages
by us saxon neighbours
who called us then 'the foreigner'
or in the saxon -- 'wealas'
well, that is those foreigners
that remained, on the main land
those to the north o'the severn
us called 'wealas', just plain vanilla
or those o'us south o'the river
housed in the cor, the horn shaped land,
its western tip, lands end, with tin to trade
and pastries clotted to fit yor pockets
these o'us, us called 'cor wealas',
in time, corn wall, you see
and then there were them, that sailed away
the expat 'bretons' of north west france
taking the matter back and forth
keeping dry upon wet sleeve fathoms
the french connection, de troyes
popeye's picard pick toes in poughkeepsie
cross fertilisation, romantic tellings
set down in pages, drawn locally
in broceliande, drawn further in
enfreshened, rainbow fountain barenton
this matter becoming norman script,
medieval, mid twelve century
both sides o'the water, as transcription
skill copy, came in via benedict's rule
with the movement of the clerics, learning
for the wealthy, and the building
of european monasteries ...
and what stories
like, what's the matter with britain
like, the one about lludd and llefelys
where two screaming fighting dragons
then ravishing and plaguing the land
are cajoled to stop at oxford
by the lure of a large silk sheet
and an even bigger vat of mead
curing a long rehearsed contention
between symbols of blood and seed
tales of fifth century black princes,
red now and read now and mixed
with the white unfolding sassenach ...
now i dunt know, if any one considers
churchill to be an anthropologist
but i find his take on the lost island
to be if nothing else, a reminder
of what we learnt of the dark ages ...
in the tribal conceptions
of the germanic nation lie,
no doubt,
many of those principles which are now admired,
and which have formed
a recognisable part of the message
which the english speaking peoples
have given the world
but the conquerors of roman britain,
far from practising these ideals,
introduced a whole scheme of society
which was fundamentally sordid and vicious
the invaders brought to britain
a principle common to all germanic tribes,
namely,
the use of money power to regulate
all the legal relations of men
if there was any equality
it was liberty for the rich
if there were rights
they were primarily the rights of property
there was no crime committed
which could not be compounded by a money payment
except failure to answer a call
to join an expedition,
there was no offence more heinous
than that of theft
an elaborate tariff prescribed in shillings
-- the "wergild" --
the exact value or worth of every man
* an athling, a prince,
was worth 1500 shillings,
a shilling being the value
of a cow in kent,
or a sheep elsewhere
* an eorl, a nobleman,
300 shillings
* a ceorl,
now degraded to the word "churl",
who was a yeoman farmer,
was worth 100 shillings,
* a laet, or agricultural serf,
40-80 shillings
* and, a slave nothing
all these laws were logically
and mathematically pushed to their extremes
if a ceorl killed an eorl
he had to pay three times as much compensation
as if the eorl were the murderer
and these laws were applied to the families of all
the life of a slaughtered man could be compounded for cash
with money all was possible;
without it only retribution and loss of liberty
however,
the atheling,
valued at 1500 shillings
suffered in certain respects
the penalty for slander
was tearing out of the tongue
if an atheling were guilty of this offence
his tongue was worth five times that of an eorl
and fifteen times as much as that of a common laet,
and he could ransom it only on these terms
thus the abuse of the humble tongue was cheap
wergild,
at least,
as alfred said long afterwards,
was better than the blood feud
the foundation of the germanic system was blood and kin
the family was the unit, the tribe was the whole
the great transition
which we witness among the emigrants
is the abandonment of blood and kin
as a theme of their society
and its replacement by local societies
and lordship
based on the ownership of land
this change arose,
like so many lessons learned by men,
from the grim needs of war
fighting for life and foothold
against men
as hard pressed as themselves
each pioneering band fell inevitably
into the hands of the bravest,
most commanding
most fortunate war leader
this was no longer a foray of a few months,
or at the outside a year
here were settlements to be founded,
new lands to be reclaimed and cultivated,
lands which moreover
offered to the deeper plough
a virgin fertility
these must be guarded,
and who could guard them except
the bold chieftains who had gained them
over the corpses of their former owners
thus the settlement in england
was to modify the imported structure
of germanic life
the armed farmer colonists
found themselves forced to accept
a stronger state authority
owing to the stresses
of continued military action
in germany they had no kings
they developed them in britain
from leaders who claimed descent
from the ancient gods
the position of the king
continually increased in importance,
as his supporters or companions
gradually formed a new class in society,
which carried with it the germ of feudalism,
and was to dominate all other conventions
but the lord was master; he must also be protector
he must stand by his people,
must back them in the courts,
feed them in time of famine,
and they in return must work his land
and follow him to war
the king was at first only
the war leader made permanent;
but, once set up,
he had his own interests,
his own needs,
and his own mortal dangers
to make himself secure
became his paramount desire --
"to be thus is nothing,
but to be safely thus ..."
but how was this to be achieved
only by the king gathering round him
a band of the most successful warriors
and interesting them directly
in the conquest and settlement
he had nothing to give them except land
there must be hierarchy
the king must be surrounded
by those who had shared his deeds
and his bounty
the spoils of war were soon consumed,
but the land remained for ever
land in the plenty,
of varying quality and condition,
but to give individual warriors a title
to any particular tract
was contrary to the whole tradition
of the germanic tribes
now under the hard pressures of war
and pioneering,
land increasingly became private property
insensibly,
at first,
but with growing speed
from the seventh century onwards,
a landed aristocracy was created
owing all it had to the king
while the resistance of the bretons
was vigorously maintained,
and the fortunes of the struggle swung
this way and that way
for nearly two hundred years,
this new institution of personal leadership
established in the divinely descended war chief
sank deeply into the fibre
of the anglo saxon invaders
but with this movement
towards a more coherent policy
or structure of society
there came also a welter
or conflicting minor powers
distances were usually prohibitive,
and writing virtually unknown
districts were separated from each other
like islands in rough seas,
and thus a host of kings and kinglets
sprang into existence behind
the fighting frontier of the intruding tribes
in marking the many root faults and vices
which they possessed
a high place be assigned
to their inability to combine
for a long time
the island presented only the spectacle
of a chaos arising from the strife
of small fiercely organised entities
although from the time of the immigration
the people south of the humber
were generally subject to a common overlord,
they were never able
to carry the evolution of kingship
forward to a national throne
they remained marauders;
but they had taken pains
to be more sure of their booty
much has been written
about the enervating character
of roman rule in britain,
and how people were rendered lax
and ineffectual by the modest comforts
which it supplied
there is no doubt that gildas,
by his writings,
imparted the impression,
perhaps in this case well founded,
of gross incompetent and fatuity
in the society and administration
which followed roman power
but justice to this vanished epoch
demands recognition of the fact
the britons fought those
who are now called the english
for nearly two hundred and fifty years
for a hundred years
they fought them under the aegis of rome,
with its world organisation;
but for a hundred and fifty years
they fought them alone
the conflict ebbed and flowed
british victories were gained,
which once for a whole generation
brought the conquest to a halt;
and in the end
the mountains which even the romans
had been unable to subdue
proved an invincible citadel
of the british race ...
before the dragons get their mead
wine is used in the story of lludd
to wash, debug a shiny bronze horn
through which lludd is led to communicate
with a sibling, llefelys the french sovereign
about three plagues, the gormesiad
one being the dragons,
two being the repeated plunder
of the public purse, and
three, the ever bugging corannyeid
that plagues the matter, horn and all
the corannyeid, an archetypal other,
a former oppressor race, now intermixed
whether saxon based, or followers o'ceaser
or for that matter, some other
faded memory of a leary tweedle dum professor
the back stories overlapped
to an unwelcome remembered learning
llefelys was known to be a wise youth,
and advices lludd to take what i suppose
is a cornish approach to these thing
that is,
first, make a large amount of liquid punch
by grinding the bugs down, in to fine powder
which then one dissolves, in to some water
second, throw a party for toute le monde
and make sure the corannyeid get there
third, serve up said mix with cocktail sticks
and this drink should sort them out
as poison, or as antidote
kinda like moses purging the exodus
flaming the golden idol to dust
and sprinkling it, see
upon the fetishers
upon the way galilee ...
in the dream of rhonabwy,
there's a game being played repeatedly
upon the chequered gwyddbwyll,
in microcosm, the silver land beneath, bouts
between owain and the sleeper of caerleon
borges plays the game again in guayaquil
this time by himself and blind
the grinding theme developed here
between historians, men of letters,
their battle, fought for what
well, the winner gets the job
to stitch some theory
upon a history lesson
rhonabwy sleeps upon a yellow hide
and dreams he meets iddawg, a character
now mature, still doing penance
for causing the battle of camlan
in this dream, caerleon is awake
and is sitting upon a island mound
near a ford in the river severn, awaiting
many rematches, badon for one
a battle that's end, brought peace
for a new generation, the advisers
there already, the troops begin to gather
caerleon takes one look at rhonabwy
and pities the land, if rhonabwy is
a representative sample of her defender
many more folk arrived, garbed, named
in many colours, caerleon's foster sibling
cai performs upon a horse, the crowd confused
the horse appears to turn inside out
the edge of the host is shocked, they move
towards the centre, the centre moves out
in reverse, just to observe the wonder
the gwyddbwyll begins
why is owain here
caerleon is caerleon is the land
is the red dragon, is the gwyddbwyll,
the game can not play
with out caerleon, but what does owain
represent in the enchanted games
sitting in the severn
an end maybe, a known ending
in the first two episodes
of owain's soap on the mound,
the characters slowly develop, owain switches
from yellow host to dark oppressor
completes one cycle around the fountain
and there remains faithful
for three years, occupies
the lady's waters
fighting off all comers
in the third episode
caerleon comes looking for him
and has followed his trail thus far
to call the water, the bird song down
but caerleon fails or faints to recognise
owain's new role as dark charger
looming in, now clad in black
bearing down, up on the mound
and owain fails similarly in recognition
comedy of errors, a day and a night
of battle begins, between dark owain
and another of caerleon's dreams, gwalchmai
known in the islands both for lack of fear
and courtesy, and fighting now
as a second second, as caerleon's proxy
the contest is balanced, stalemated
and continues this way until the fighters
in sudden unconfusion, end their comedy
as mutual rememberence dawns on them
they stop, and both try to cede victory
to their former advisory,
but neither will accept this either
a second stale mate,
finally caerleon intervenes
cede your arms to me
and this they do, weapons are put away
and in doing so, owain cedes protection
of the land, the enchanted game
in to the corrugated brow of caerleon,
friends again, all characters retire
back to the black fortress
where a feast is awaiting, forest gateaux
long prepared, caerleon being long expected
i don't know
it must have been nice to put the games down
at least for a bit, but i don't whether
that could explain what owain did next
it's as though he totally forgets
that he ever got married,
and spends a good long while
semi retired, back in the courts
at caerleon, until luned treks him there
and pulls the ring right from his finger
owain shocked from stooper, disenchanted,
once more drawn around the fountain cycle,
deeper this time, drawn way in to forest
lives with wild things, becomes wild himself,
not such a plastic bachlach now,
as the first round, no now it's like,
it's like, he's the real mccoy
but what's driving him
well your guess is as good as mine
if you know this section of the
story, you'd have to wonder
what's it all about
this second cycle, the second time
all sorts of weird back and forths
clueless, wondering, labyrinthine in parts
but my guess would be this
what's really going off
in his head, is just
he misses 'is misses
no more,
like erec and peredur
as the story is romantic
owain's has a happy ending
goodie, continuance
next generation actors
now living dreams
born out o'the sleeping
court circulars of caerleon
amongst other things
owain, in the lady of the fountain
gets one last job to do however
and i don't know why
he does this one, maybe it's just
because he can, but i reckon
it's more to do with the idea
that the flight to any where
is just as important as where your going
but in any case, this last job
just works out like a dream,
it's all set up you see
the job runs itself
or rather, the dark silver pieces
now set upon an inverted copy board
with a reflecting golden base
designed by gwenddolau,
once the patron of merlin ap mad,
but now twice lost, replaying the battle
of the larks nest,
the gamed mirrored, gold now below
the pieces once set, play themselves
we dark, she sometimes old, hagged
we silver, she gold, we ever moving,
the land is gold in microcosm
no need the golden pieces, no
no need these dreams no more
owain's last sprinkle around the fountain
he splits asunder on first meeting
the dark from yellow aspect
of yet another threshold guardian,
with, what may appear to some
to be a cold rebuffing,
a somewhat decramberried turkey sandwich
to paraphrase, this is what owain says
to this lat o'gatekeeper --
for sooth, i am not yor brother
now i don't whether
this dark oppressor took this
to be a whine, or just inspired by wine
but it wound the scene up
to a replaying game
for sooth -- says owain --
don't get confused
and think i'll depend on my hand to score
i've been round this circuit many times
and have scored a few, left legged too
the dark oppressor
doesn't believe him, or just doesn't
want to, think there is any other option
but to battle, to protect
but to protect what
some two dozen prior conquests
laid to squalor, by abuse
the wasted blackheart conquistador
hooked in downward spirals
wasting the other, wasted themselves
bad dreams, pulling at the land
like some juvenile cowboy pirate
yanking at the pig tails of indian summer
any way up
the outcome of all this
right hand, left legged dialect
resulted in this response
from the last o'the gamekeepers --
it was foretold that thou
shouldst come hither
and vanquish me,
and thou hast done so
i was a robber here,
and my house was a house of spoil;
but grant me my life,
and i will become the keeper of an hospice,
and i will maintain this house as an hospice
for weak and for strong, as long as i live,
for the good of thy soul ...
foretold by whom
there's many prophesies isn't there
the abrahamic cycles have them too
many overlapping, and have been told
by the welsh, that all that the irish are
are the welsh that learnt to swim,
but do you know, you'll be bound to hear
au contraire, in many places elsewhere ...
cai wrote upon another game
stumbled upon by boniface
the successor to peter the st
when contemplating the pantheon
the pagan house of the gods of rome
he remarked to the emperor
that the pantheon
despite the coming of christianity
had grown in influence
at this,
the emperor caused the pantheon
to be consecrated to mary
and all the saint of the world
those who stand in the first nine ranks
of the blessed
this is why 'samhain' is called 'all saints'
because the pagan house of the gods
has been consecrated to all saints
there is another reason also
namely a game which is played
by the boys of rome every year
on the same day:
it was a board game
with a figure of a hag
at one end
and the figure of a virgin
at the other
the hag set a dragon on the virgin
calling all the demons
while at the other end
the virgin let loose a lamb
so that the lamb overpowered the dragon
at that
the hag set a lion upon the virgin
but the virgin let loose the rain
and the rain was victorious
over the lion
boniface who watched this
told the boys
that this farcical game was unseemly
and asked them how
they came to know it
the boys replied --
sibyl,
the brilliant prophetess
has taught us this game
through the grace of a prophecy
in which she prophesied christ's combat
with the devil
thank god ...
-- answered the pope --
... he who was prophesied has come
and the devil is defeated ...
-- he added --
... give thanks to god
and do play this game anymore ...
... at that
this game was not played any more
upon samhain eve ...
-- f g -------------------------------------------------------
the serpent will come from the hole
on the brown day of bride
though there should be three foot of snow
on the flat surface of the ground
on the day of bride of the white hills
the noble queen will come from the knoll
i will not molest the noble queen
nor will the noble queen molest me
thig na nathair as an toll
la donn bride,
ged robh tri traighean dh'an t'sneachd
air leacd an lair
la bride nam brig ban
thig an rigen ran a tom
cha bhoin mise ris an rigen ran
's cha bhoin an rigen ran rium
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