Book review: The Water Remedy by Clare Gogerty

Jon Gower

As its title suggests this book has much to do with the healing and restorative properties of water, from the sanctity of holy wells through the enchantment of rivers and lakes to the simple blessings of rainfall.

Indeed, reading it, you’ll find that there are in fact three types of rain – relief, convectional and frontal – and that five rivers flow through hell, all named after goddesses: Styx, Acheron, Cocytus, Phlegethon and Lethe. A quick dip in the last of these could wipe out all memory the dead had of the lives they had once led, like being lost in a terminal fog of forgetfulness.

One of my favourite discoveries among its pages is the fact that petrichor, the uplifting smell of the earth after rain, is caused by ‘the creation of a molecule called geosmin by bacteria in the soil when rain hits the ground. Inhaling geosmin is good for us and boosts serotonin.’

And there are lots more arresting facts such as a list of names for the full moon, month by month, from January’s Wolf Moon to December’s Cold Moon. Or the tale of the green lady of Llyn Fawr in Blaenrhondda, who appears every seven years, making necklaces from rowan berries that turn miraculously into gold.

Lapidary

‘The Water Remedy’ is a lapidary book, not one that is at all easy to pigeonhole, with all manner of bright pebbles set in place. It’s a mixture of memoir, aid to well-being and guide book – signposting some of the best places to go wild swimming, suggesting six of the best outdoor lidos and directing us to half a dozen of the best spa towns, including Llandrindod Wells.

‘The Water Remedy’ ranges widely, including a brisk travelogue that takes the reader ‘Around The World in Eight Baths’ which include bathing festivals in Bali and Cambodia, the very popular geothermal baths of Iceland, the mineral-rich, volcanic hot springs of Japan, Russia’s wood-fired bath-houses as well as the classic saunas of Finland and the hammams of Turkey.

There is plenty of Welsh interest here, not least when it comes to customs associated with wells. Visitors to Ffynnon Gybi in Llangybi in Gwynedd might throw a rag into the water to assess whether a lover was being faithful. If it drifted south, fidelity was assured but if it floated north then there was reason for jealous concern.

Not far away, at Ffynnon Fair in Llanbedrog there was a belief that the well could help you do some detective work. The victim of a theft could identify the offender by kneeling at the edge of the well, ‘avowing his faith’ in the place’s special properties before throwing bread into the waters while at the same time naming the suspect. If the victim’s suspicions were correct the bread would sink: if not it was time to repeat the gesture, this time using another name.

Not all wells were blessedly holy. Gogerty takes us to cursing wells, where a mean-spirited vistor could write a name on a stone and then, for a fee, have it cast into the well. If the stone stayed in place the curse would be cast, with pain, illness or even death being inflicted on the unsuspecting victim. One such cursing well could be found at St Elian’s Church in Llanelian-yn-Rhos in Clwyd, where such malign practises persisted into the nineteenth
century until it was stopped by the vicar.

Waterfalls

All kinds of water sources and expressions are found within the pages of ‘The Water Remedy,’ from settling dew through rushing waterfalls to oceans and areas of still and standing water. And, of course rivers course and meander and run through it. Asking a question akin to Robert Macfarlane’s soon-to-be bestselling ‘Is a River Alive?’

Gogerty answers the question by citing Clarence Alexander, former Grand Chief of First Nations people, Gwich’in in Alaska: ‘Water is a living thing. You have to treat it as such. We don’t cuss out the river. We treat it like it’s got a soul of its own. This might be our superstition, but our superstitions are pretty much like real.’

If rivers are alive, then they can therefore die, as Gogerty mournfully suggests when writing about the Wye, which runs, pollutedly, near her home. This living thing has certainly not been treated with care: ‘Manure from chicken farms, discharged into its waters, has largely been responsible for loss of insects, fish and aquatic flowers, as well as the river turning green from algal bloom during hotter weather.’

Such deadenings and degradations, Gogerty suggests, are tragic and painful, while ‘keeping our rivers healthy and brimming with life is not just essential for the sake of creatures that inhabit them and the landscape that surrounds them, but for the sake of our wellbeing, our health and our souls.’

The Water Remedy: Folklore, ritual and wisdom by Clare Gogerty is published by Calon. It is available from all good bookshops.