Gwlad beirdd a chantorion
The Welsh are proud of their heritage and their stories (well, a lot of them are anyway) and quite rightly so. Even as someone English, and speaking not a word of Welsh (apart from ‘ach-y-fi’which I had to learn once for a school play), I think it is very special and important that the stories in The Mab are included in the Welsh language as well as in English. However I still hope that I will be forgiven (although I may well not) for saying that these tales belong to all of us. I am not claiming that they are English, rather that they are universal. They belong to humanity. And it is wonderful that all children now have a chance to get to know them in such vibrant and accessible new versions.. This is not to take anything away from the Welsh, but rather to acknowledge the debt we all owe to them.
Deep roots and strong
These stories from the ancient Mabinogi are of supreme importance to children’s literature in that they have influenced and inspired some of the very greatest writers of children’s fantasy. To name but a few: Alan Garner, Susan Cooper, Lloyd Alexander, Madeleine L’Engle, Jenny Nimmo. The myth-based imagining of these authors may currently be somewhat out of fashion, but they remain some of the finest ever writers for this audience. I think the reading experience of any child would be far poorer if they never encountered these writers and it behoves all educators to encourage young readers to try them. Knowing the Mabinogi stories themselves is not essential to enjoyment of any of these seminal writers, but it does add many further layers of appreciation and resonance if children do.
However, this is not the most important reason to keep the stories alive. These ancient tales are a direct conduit to our past; not so much the past of a race as to our shared past as human beings. They are doorways into our individual and collective imagination, and through this into our possible future. And the quality of our future is very much dependent upon imagination, on what, together, we can imagine it to be. Michael Sheen’s poetic and deeply insightful foreword quite beautifully captures the potency of these tales and the whole power of imagination, fantasy and, indeed, of story itself. He most eloquently provides us with a doorway into their many doorways.
A fresh breeze through ancient branches
It would be misleading to imply that the tales of the Mabinogi, even in relatively recent versions, are always easy for children to access. What The Mab does is to cleanse them of any feeling of antiquated stuffiness, whilst retaining much of their essence and potency. These are now stories which children (or anyone else for that matter) can read with ease and enjoyment, sharing what must surely have been the the thrill and the awe of those who heard them so many ages ago.
Max Low’s stunning illustrations set the tone for the whole book. Fearlessly they strip away the varnish of imposed Romanticism and let the vibrant colours of these tales radiate afresh in images that are arrestingly modern yet somehow still capture the archetypal essence of stories that transcend time. (His pictures have some creasingly funny touches too.)
The contributing authors (and a very distinguished crowd they are) each bring something special to their task of retelling (or reimagining) one of the tales for a contemporary children’s audience. Matt Brown kicks off, adding delicious humour, as well as some touches of contemporary sensibility, to the story of monstrous baby-snatching from the First Branch of the original. Sophie Anderson (given what I think is a particularly challenging task) brings a clarity to the convolutions of the Second Branch. Perhaps most importantly, she ensures that Branwen’s loving, pacifist nature shines through the often bellicose and cruel doings of the men who surround her. Following this, Nicola Davies brings the meandering Third Branch alive with some striking imagery and a very welcome strong female voice. Then Eloise Williams produces a magically lyrical retelling of the story of Blodeuwedd from the Fourth Branch, one of the most immediately poignant of the tales, yet manages to lace it with a little wicked humour too.
Knights in white satin (Eh?)
The stories then segue into tales of King Arthur’s knights (but probably not as you know them). And if what follows is not quite Mony Python, then there are times when it is not far off.
Taking this reader, at least, into unfamiliar territory, Darren Chetty majestically charts the exploits of the seemingly self-made hero Predur (a sort of Arthurian Marcus Rashford) whilst Alex Wharton’s waves of delicious word painting conjure beautifully the dream of love that almost, but not quite, conquers the call of responsibility for an Emperor of Rome.
And then, the strangest of these tales. The most haunting. Disturbing. Odd, when odd is a good thing. Zilleh Bethel is a wonderous writer. This is a wondrous telling. Lludd of Londinium. A year passes. A year passes. A year passes. And then. Wondrous. She elicits Max Low’s oddest image too. When odd is a good thing, of course.
Rhian Ivory gives the puzzling story of the Lady of the Well and her Black Knight a contemporary feel by employing delightfully anachronistic phraseology and displaying amusingly modern attitudes to its high romantic scenarios. The brilliant P.G.Bell brings his usual storytelling flair, and no little dry humour, to the satisfyingly rounded tale of Geraint and Enid. Hanson Issa revives the story of ‘The Amazing Eight’.Amazing indeed, this archetypal hero quest, contains the seeds of so many other great fictional ideas, from the powers of Marvel Comic superheros, to the secret opening of the Gates of Moria - and so many important human truths too. It is a veritable kaleidoscope of imaginative invention. Claire Fayers finishes it all off wonderfully, and very appropriately, with a clever story about a story about a story. Just magic.
Mixed metaphor
The Mabinogion is one of our oldest of tinder boxes for striking the flame of imagination and kindling the fires of children’s literature. Now, in its new guise as The Mab, it flashes again with the brightest shower of sparks, all set to ignite anew. It needs to be on the shelves of every school and library, as well as in many homes, read and reread for years to come, not only in Wales but on every shore the sea of story washes.
Enjoy these new old tales. Live with them. Do not so much try to understand them as to let them creep into your dreams. And they may well begin to open that door into worlds above, below, within, beyond.
Footnote: Other books by The Mab writers that I would warmly recommend (although you may very well have already discovered them for yourself):
Sophie Anderson: any, but especially The House With Chicken Legs and The Girl Who Speaks Bear.
Nicola Davies: The New Girl and The Promise (picture books), The Song That Sings Us
Eloise Williams: any, but especially Gaslight, Seaglass and The Tide Singer
Alex Wharton: Daydreams and Jellybeans (poems)
Zilleh Bethell: any, but especially A Whisper of Horses and The Shark Caller
Rhian Ivory: The Boy Who Drew the Future
P.G.Bell: The Train to Impossible Places (and its sequels)
Claire Fayers: any, but especially Storm Hound
(I previously reviewed many of these titles, if you wish to seek out my more detailed responses on the blog archive.)
