Blodeuwedd’s inability to relate to the world she now finds herself belonging to made her exceedingly relatable to me. Her angst for the world she hates, only inhabited by men devoid of good, a quality that should be irrelevant to her but is now an absence that punishes her immensely; an absence found both externally, in the selfish, uncaring society, and internally, in her own capacity to manipulate and lie, to kill for her own needs. This alienation, forced into the mind by the absurd conflict between the knowledge one has of the human potential for good but simultaneous acts of evil and one’s own impossible plight to constantly be good, causes extreme discomfort; this is the discomfort I recognised in the identical disturbance Blodeuwedd felt bracing a raging storm, barefoot in the forest, and bracing ordinary societal life. She knows men are bad, she knows she’s bad, and worst of all (where the disassociation and nausea unsettles her to the core) she knows she’s powerless against it. As the human manifestation of the natural element, unwillingly thrust into man’s society, her discovery that even she can’t fulfil the potential for good within the corrupt world disturbs her, and leads her further astray from the idyllic ‘good’: whether or not this modern angst is what Lewis intended for Blodeuwedd’s character to represent, it’s what I consistently found relevant in her unnatural struggle.
Blodeuwedd feels that this imperfect world is alien to her, but her understanding that she’s equally imperfect is what tortures her.
Ultimately, her punishment is to be thrust back into the natural world, the world she belongs to, but this time baring man’s evil, this time as the corrupt element in the ecosystem. The question that remains is whether this is her punishment for committing man’s evils, and is a lesson against repeating Blodeuwedd’s mistakes, or is it representative of everyone’s punishment: that we all eventually fall to corruption. From my perspective, Blodeuwedd hasn’t committed a great enough crime to narratively warrant such a tragic fate; thus I conclude that this is the punishment beholden to all men, perhaps deserved by no one, but unflinchingly dealt to all. And when considering the mode of punishment for the main characters, one realises Gwydion, the most amoral figure in the drama, is the only one left unpunished (arguably his punishment is his failure to break Llew’s final curse, but even so this feels minuscule in comparison to: Llew losing his wife, heir, and a year of his life; Gronw Pebr dying and losing his kingdom; Rhagnell killing herself; and most tragically, Blodeuwedd being transformed into an unloved and unlovable creature). One could interpret Gwydion’s fortunate ending being due to his amorality, his lack of motive and relationship in the play: Blodeuwedd recognises her unnatural struggle as Gwydion’s as well, but Gwydion, upon coming into contact with that absurd conflict between the impossible good and the ever-possible evil, ignored it, and acts beyond morality. Not to say that his behaviour is viewed favourably by Lewis, or that it’s appropriately narratively rewarded, but that society rewards it: Gwydion is the one who thrives best in our corrupt world; the one who completely understands the rot at the heart of society and decides against struggle but instead to match its corruption.
On the other hand, Llew represents the unknowing victim of the world’s crookedness, who gives in to the evil, but unlike Blodeuwedd and Gwydion, can’t recognise his own evil; this makes him the antagonistic force of the drama. Lewis names him Llew Llaw Gyffes, a change from the more heroic Lleu Llaw Gyffes. Llew, meaning lion, implies something completely different to Lleu, meaning light. I believe this contrast, between the name the reader knows, and the name Lewis chose, highlights the contrast between the two simultaneous views of Llew. He is both a hero, a victim of abuse and neglect who overcame hardship to become a good and powerful lord, and a villain, who enslaves Blodeuwedd and repeatedly rapes her. As Llew he is as a lion: the predator, carnivorous and terrifying. But, like a lion, his ‘evil’ is ‘natural’. Not because his actions are justifiable, they aren’t, but because he’s suffered terrible abuse from his birth, and is a result of the already existent evil of the world. Remain aware that he is not blameless, nor is he absolved of responsibility; Blodeuwedd faces abuse on, possibly, a much worse scale, and maintains the all-important struggle; she, our hero, strives for good.