|
|
|
|
In Search of the Real Myrddin, Mad Prophet and Poet
Tracking down the "real" Merlin through ancient literature
IN SEARCH OF THE REAL MYRDDIN, MAD POET AND PROPHET
In searching for the "real" Myrddin, one reference that is widely mentioned is The Black Book of Carmarthen. This is one of the Four Ancient Books of Wales, as named by William Forbes Skene. It gets its name from the binding, which is black, and the connection with the priory of St. John the Evangelistic and Teulyddog, Carmarthen. The little book is basically a poetry manuscript which also includes a small set of triads about the horses of some mythical Welsh heroes. The Black Book of Carmarthen is assumed to have been written by one scribe, around the yeare 1250. It is one of the earliest surviving manuscripts in the Welsh language. As you will notice if you look at the manuscript, which you can view by the link above, the writing and the appearance of the pages varies, which is a good indication that it was not written all at one time but at several different stages. The manuscript was found by Sir John Price of Brecon (1502-1555)who was appointed as royal chief registrar of ecclesiastical matters. While sorting through material found at monasteries dissolved by Henry VIII, he found the Black Book in the possession of the treasurer of St. David's Cathedral, who told him it came from the Carmarthan priory. The Book is now in the Special Collections section of the National Library of Wales in Aberystwyth. The poetry contained in the Black Book consists of some religious verses, some praise poems and elegies, and poetry about Dark Age heroes. (Click here for the text.) The latter section is what interests us on our quest for the real Myrddin. There are four poems in that section, any or all of which may be connected to Myrddin although only one actually mentions his name. These are: Yr Afallenau (Appletrees); Ymddiddan Myrddin a Thaliesin (Conversation between Myrddin and Taliesin); Yr Oianau (The Greetings of Myrddin and his Sister Gwenddydd); and Y Bedwenni (The Birch Trees). The mention of Myrddin in the Black Book of Carmarthen was written after both the ninth century Irish myth of Suibhne and the Scots Lailoken from the same period, which tell of a poet/prophet going mad after a battle in which he witnesses the death of his lord. The Black Book echoes this tale with uncanny parallels. It has been suggested by more than a few medieval history experts that the Welsh Myrddin surfaced and circulated around the same time that the other two stories, along with other northern saga material, were imported into the Carmarthen area. Coincidentally (or probably not) Carmarthen in Welsh is Caer-fyrddin which has vaguely been connected with the so-called Merlin's Castle or Caer-myrddin. Is it possible that the character's name was originally made to fit into some flimsy connection with Carmarthen, possibly by none other than Geoffrey of Monmouth himself? Was Myrddin really a pasted-together legendary figure created mainly by Geoffrey of Monmouth from the older tales of Ireland's Suibhne Geilt and the Scottish Lailoken? It is difficult to prove that the few shreds of poetry attributed to Myrddin are actually the work of any particular bard. Piecing together a chronology, it seems unlikely that Myrddin Wyllt truly existed in any other form except myth. Most scholars divide Myrddin into two phases: the pre-Galfridian, where he is the wild man/prophet supposedly of the late 6th century; and Geoffrey of Monmouth's Myrddin/Merlin who is connected with the Arthurian legends, which has nothing to do with the elusive poet-bard we are seeking. Apparently Geoffrey of Monmouth was the first to distinguish between two different Myrddins - Merlin Ambrosius/Myrddin Emrys and the "madman" Myrddin Wyllt/Merlin Celidonius - which casts even more suspicion upon old Geoff. Nikolai Tolstoy's The Quest for Merlin (1985) is one of the best known contemporary sources that presents Myrddin as a real 6th century bard. Tolstoy's image of Myrddin is derived from the medieval traditions that place Myrddin on almost the same level as Taliesin and Aneirin. But what was the source of these "medieval traditions" which appeal to the human imagination on such a deep and abiding level that the myth of Myrddin/Merlin lives even today? It seems Geoffrey of Monmouth is the key to this muddled conundrum. Although the myth of the mad prophet-poet certainly circulated before Geoffrey sat down to write anything, his Historia Regum Britanniae (History of the Kings of Britain, from around 1138, which I will abbreviate as HRB) is the seed that spawned not only the Myrddin and King Arthur traditions but centuries of English romantic literature that followed on those early themes. From Shakespeare to Wordsworth, generations of poets and writers drew on Geoffrey's work for inspiration. The pre-Galfridian "Historum Brittonum" (dated around 829) is probably where Geoffrey got the first idea for his Myrddin. The first mention of Myrddin is often cited as the "Merlinus" that appears in Geoffrey's HRB in connection with the 5th century King Vortigern. According to Geoffrey, King Vortigern is advised to sprinkle the blood of a fatherless youth over the foundation stones of his castle for protection. He tracks down a Dyfed princess who, while living in a convent at Carmarthen (Caer Myrddin), was made pregnant by a demon incubus and gave birth to such a fatherless youth. It is Myrddin/Merlin. This same tale can be found in the earlier "Historum Brittonum" which Geoffrey obviously used to piece together his HRB. But the fatherless youth in that version was named Ambrosius, not Merlin, and he was found in Glamorgan (Glywysing), not Carmarthen. Apparently Geoffrey put his own spin on the story. The character of Myrddin/Merlin at the time he wrote HRB was new to Geoffrey and he freely embellished, giving him prophetic declamations, involving him with the birth of Arthur, and enabling him to magically assemble Stonehenge's megaliths, among other legendary feats that have been connected with Merlin ever since that time. Obviously in 1138 Geoffrey had not yet learned the legends of Lailoken or Suibhne Geilt. After he finished HRB, Geoffrey then went on to write "Vita Merlini" (Life of Merlin) in which he presented the mad Myrddin, based almost entirely on the older tales of a bard made mad by battle, living in a forest, and conversing with Taliesin. He had obviously become familiar with the Scots and Irish "madman" stories by then and worked them into this second version of Merlin/Myrddin. To add to the confusion, Geoffrey attempted to blend his two different versions of Merlin into one by saying that the wizard lived from Vortigern's time into the late 6th century - quite a stretch, even for gullible medieval imaginations. In our search for the real and original Merlin/Myrddin, obviously the Welsh Historum Brittonum offers an older and more authentic version of the tradition, possibly going all the way back to the 5th century with King Vortigern. In putting together his HRB, Geoffrey used every historical manuscript he could get his hands on, which included Historum Brittonum along with the writings of Gildas, Bede and some others now lost and forever unknown. The Historum Brittonum, which is attributed to "Nennius" (probably an anonymous scribe writing under different names) is a good example to help understand these medieval chroniclers and their styles of writing. Manuscripts like Geoffrey's HRB and the Welsh Historum Brittonum cannot be seen in the same light as the history books we read today, although they are often shuttled into that category. They are more appropriately viewed as pseudo-histories because they were a collection of facts liberally strewn with older legends and the authors' own flights of fancy which make it almost impossible to separate everything out. Much of these writings is not history as we might expect it to be presented, but rather it is storytelling mixed with a great deal of sermonizing. Those critics who discredit Geoffrey's work and other manuscripts of that era as not being "historically accurate" are disregarding the very historical context in which they were written. They should not be read as history books in the modern sense of meaning, but rather as the beginnings of Engish storytelling in literature, derived from the oral traditions that preceded them. But I have strayed from the main point, which was the search for Myrddin in his guise of mad poet and prophet. The evidence that has come down to us from ancient times casts strong doubts that this Myrddin ever really existed. Perhaps there was once a bard who went mad and took refuge in a forest. Just because none of his words have survived in manuscript form does not mean that there is nothing to this myth. Some authors and Celtic mythology experts insist that the Lailoken and Suibhne Geilt legends - from which Myrddin was made - contain elements of ancient druidic tree-mysteries, or even symbolic initiation rites based on the Ogham or Dark Tongue which was passed down through bardic traditions from the time when druids and bards were more closely affiliated. The theme of madness, poets and prophecy is one of the backbones of Celtic literature, from ancient times into the present, certainly worthwhile exploring in as much depth as possible |
Courtyard
~ Table of Contents ~
Ynys Môn ( Isle of Anglesey)
Cill Dara Caer Gai Winter Solstice - Rebirth of the Sun Temair Luachra Brú na Bóinne LUGHNASADH: FEAST OF FIRST FRUITS Maes Howe Reflections on Cnoc Áine Samhain: The Last Feast of Summer Clonycavan Man Lough Derg Changelings The Origins of Celtic Christianity and St. Patrick in Ireland |
