What do you think?
Rate this book
Griffri
Meredith mixes historical detail with imagination in this tale of betrayal, lust, murder, and revenge set in 12th-century Wales. Inventive and beautifully told, the plot centers on Griffri, a poet in the court of a Welsh prince, who tells his life story to a Cistercian monk. Part boast and part confession, Griffri's words turn into a compelling narrative which is developed through an accumulation of obsessive images, culminating in self-revelation. Both serious and entertaining, the novel examines the limits of our knowledge of the world and of ourselves. Griffri emerges a complex man full of uncertainties, a distinctly modern hero.
Paperback
First published January 1, 1995
1 person is currently reading
46 people want to read
About the author
Christopher Meredith
20 books6 followersChristopher Meredith (1955-) is a Welsh poet and novelist, writing mainly in English.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
November 15, 2024
It takes a considerable leap of the imagination to picture what your life might have been like, had you been born 800 years ago.
Poet and novelist Christopher Meredith comes from Tredegar as does his fictional counterpart Griffri ap Berddig, poet to the Prince of Gwynllwg. The novel is Griffri's own account of life in a turbulent world of change and loss. It is not a mediaeval romantic fantasy - no wizards or knights, no bold Welsh heroes and treacherous English villains. Instead, it is a novel that, although very much linked to the landscape, the events, and the people of twelfth century Wales, is in many ways timeless. The Welsh and French lords with their bodyguards, lawyers, and priests need little more than suits and sunglasses to become mafia dons. Yet all that most of them fight for is peace, security, and the hope of better times. Griffri believes he is a chronicler, though he realizes the songs he sings are just the same old flattery - "Hawk. Dragon. Wolf. Oak door of Gwynllwg" - and everyone, including the princes (whose grandfathers were kings and whose sons may be Norman vassals), knows it. "A poet affirms who we are, or who we think we are, as if that might hold everything in place, or shift it into a better place. I think I used to believe that," says Griffri. But even the story of his own life turns out to be false.
It's an odd and compelling book - vividly written and entirely self-contained. Christopher Meredith makes no link to the present and gives no quarter to anyone unfamiliar with the people and places of the mediaeval borderland. But you don't need to know the history to admire and enjoy the book. Nor do you need to be Welsh, though if you are, this chronicle of erosion and loss will echo down the centuries.
Poet and novelist Christopher Meredith comes from Tredegar as does his fictional counterpart Griffri ap Berddig, poet to the Prince of Gwynllwg. The novel is Griffri's own account of life in a turbulent world of change and loss. It is not a mediaeval romantic fantasy - no wizards or knights, no bold Welsh heroes and treacherous English villains. Instead, it is a novel that, although very much linked to the landscape, the events, and the people of twelfth century Wales, is in many ways timeless. The Welsh and French lords with their bodyguards, lawyers, and priests need little more than suits and sunglasses to become mafia dons. Yet all that most of them fight for is peace, security, and the hope of better times. Griffri believes he is a chronicler, though he realizes the songs he sings are just the same old flattery - "Hawk. Dragon. Wolf. Oak door of Gwynllwg" - and everyone, including the princes (whose grandfathers were kings and whose sons may be Norman vassals), knows it. "A poet affirms who we are, or who we think we are, as if that might hold everything in place, or shift it into a better place. I think I used to believe that," says Griffri. But even the story of his own life turns out to be false.
It's an odd and compelling book - vividly written and entirely self-contained. Christopher Meredith makes no link to the present and gives no quarter to anyone unfamiliar with the people and places of the mediaeval borderland. But you don't need to know the history to admire and enjoy the book. Nor do you need to be Welsh, though if you are, this chronicle of erosion and loss will echo down the centuries.
April 29, 2012
Total departure from the subject matter (and era) of Shifts. lots of swords and killings and things which could probably do with a dollop of Freudian interpretation.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews