The sixth century Welsh bard Taliesin took on mythical stature. Over the centuries that followed his career in the courts of kings and lords, his name was borrowed by a long line of anonymous poets seeking to call upon his spirit, to evoke the chief bard’s essence from ages past.
A poet from history evolved into something beyond his real form, into a prophet, a seer, an advisor, a shapeshifter, a shaman who transcends time and space. I don’t mean this hyperbolically. The poems in the collection known as the Book of Taliesin show the man of myth in all these forms. He becomes a cosmic entity reaching through the centuries and materializing as everything from a human being lamenting a fallen hero to a viper in the river, from a weapon of battle to a particle of beer in a king’s mouth. He is an enigmatic bard of war poetry, praise poetry, visionary works of lore and prophecy and history and adoration of nature and knowledge.
Gwyneth Lewis and Rowan Williams authored this translation of the Book of Taliesin. It’s the first new translation in over a hundred years of a book compiled in the 14th century, but made up of works that span the 700 previous years of Welsh poetry under a single name. They write a captivating introduction and notes. The introduction is almost 80 pages, and is one of the best and most informative intros I’ve read to any piece of ancient literature. This intro almost warrants its own review.
Lewis and Williams present an excellent analysis of Taliesin as he appears over the course of the poems. As historical figure in the courts of warlords writing war poetry and praise poetry. Then as a persona that mutates over the generations into a riddling, charismatic, figure, taking on the role of an allusive Sage or Druid blessed with the gift of awen and conveying his elite knowledge of the craft of poetry to his successors.
Then as a seer foretelling ruin, or predicting victories and liberation or downfalls and doom, writing obscure verses of history and the future and passages of esoteric knowledge. And finally, Taliesin as legendary figure, as a shape-shifter, as both a teller and subject of folklore, as a voice for others to speak through, and as an archetype of bardic might and an uninterrupted line of Welsh literary traditions. He is a cauldron of imagination and creative power overflowing. The gamut of the poetry in this book sees him in all these forms.
The complicated history of these poems are unwound just a little, but the mystery behind them does not lend itself to easy solutions. There is much still unknown about the poems or some of the non-Taliesin authors. Informed speculation offers rather interesting insights and theories, nonetheless.
The translators have organized the poems loosely by categories. The first group is the heroic poems. These are poems thought to have possibly been written by the historical Taliesin in the sixth century, either in praise of his powerful benefactors, or relating a conquest, detailing a war or series of battles, calling the people to rise up together, or singing elegies for fallen heroes. These works portray real people and real events, sometimes revealing bits and pieces of early medieval Welsh culture and customs, or complex webs of genealogies, and frequently battles and death and conflict.
Taliesin gives grand praise to the lords whose courts he resided in, like the military exploits and high character of Urien, king of Reghed, or Cynan Garwyn, king of Powys, who fought the much hated Anglo-Saxons, or lamentation for Owain, the son of Urien. Some poems make recurring references to a Prince Elffin, whose court Taliesin may or may not have been a part of.
The legendary poems explore the mysteries of the universe and of the world. They reach deep into the past and into myths, folklore, the memory of the people of Wales, and sometimes further back, to heroes from classical antiquity. Hercules and Alexander are the focus of a few poems, and Taliesin himself, or the art of poetry, or Arthurian characters like Ulther Pendragon, or Cu Roi, a legendary figure from Irish heroic sagas, or the mystifying powers of the heavens and of creation are the focus of others.
One of the greatest poems in the book, “The Battle of the Trees”, sees Taliesin as a warrior poet, and as an eternal omnipresent all-knowing being who creates all of reality. And as its title suggests, it features a battle between trees and shrubs, as well as a bounty of other elements which might or might not be metaphors for other things. It has references to myth and magic and transformation and impossible knowledge, and like a few other poems, hints at the esoterica of medieval cosmology. No one has figured out precisely what the poem means, but it doesn’t matter. It might be better that way. Like many of these poems, it is shrouded in a sense of mystery and irrecoverable truth. It’s incredible, a whimsical, mysterious, puzzling, beautiful, surreal hellscape of imagination at the height of its powers.
A theme of transmigration is the focus of a few of the major poems here, as Taliesin takes the form of various people and beasts and inanimate objects, like water or dust, being born into multiple forms and transported through all parts of the world and through battles and bodies and the heavens, seeing all things and knowing all there is to know.
This theme reminds me of the transmigration seen in Irish mythology, in the story “The Wooing of Etain”, in which Etain is turned into water, then a fly, and is then blown around and thrown around for eons and undergoing a multitude of troubles until landing in a cup and being drunk down and reborn a thousand years later. I recall similar sequences of transformation and movement in a few other old Irish myths.
Some of these poems were apparently performed in contests, and the existing manuscript from which they are translated have remarks written about how many points they were worth in such contests. It is thought that apprentice bards were evaluated by how well they memorized and performed certain poems, but we know nothing of how the scores were computed.
A few of these “scored” poems are boastful and dramatic, taking a tone that the translators compare to a rap battle. For example, Taliesin will mock lesser poets, criticize their poor style or amateur grasp of the form, and then artfully and eloquently build himself up as the most awesome, the most important and towering bard in the land, celebrating his endless knowledge and wisdom and poetic skill through verse. These are deserving of the category “legendary” in a way quite distinct from the rest.
The prophetic poems have repeated themes of unification of the British, and predict the appearance of a hero to raise Wales and the other British people above the Saxons, the Vikings, and any other oppressive forces. These brilliant works call to mind raging battles, apocalyptic punishments and divine acts.
Another of the greatest poems in the book is in this section, called “The Great Prophesy of Britain”, which introduces a lot of ideas that would appear in the later prophetic poems, borrowed and repurposed through the ages to accommodate whatever contemporary medieval concerns were relevant to the Welsh.
It is a small but forceful epic that predicts the return of early saviors of Britain, Cynan and Cadwaladr. These two men appear in many of the prophetic poems, as chosen ones who will return to liberate the people against Saxon rule. Cadwaladr was son of Cadwallon of Gwynedd, a warlord who conquered Northumbria. A couple poems detail his courage and heroism, presenting him as a conqueror that will crush the enemies of the Welsh. Cynan is a bit more mysterious, possibly a fusing of two historical figures, one being Cynan, the king of Powys whom had Taliesin in his court, and one being Conan Meriadoc, credited with establishing an independent line of British kings in Brittany in the fifth century.
The prophetic poems are also semi-legendary, and many make references to the Welsh myths of the Mabinogion, alluding to its characters and its stories, and events that the poets were intimately familiar with.
The final poems cover religious and devotional topics as well as secular. They peer into the world of miracles and spirituality, the visions of apocalypses and hell, prayers for kings and warriors, as well as offering more prophecies and treatments on forgotten knowledge, libraries, fortresses, heroes, and hopes for an indomitable Wales that casts off its afflictions and basks in the glory of its great rulers of past ages.
This is a peerless book, a work of towering imagination and mesmerizing poetic vision. It is a book of mystical, mythical, magical medieval Welsh magnificence.