Book review: Where the Folk; a Welsh Folklore Road Trip 

Julie Brominicks

‘Did you know that Wales has its own Loch Ness monster? Well sort of. Ours isn’t some innocent plesiosaur that got stuck in a lake; ours is a big crocodilian-beaver-like-thing with a soft spot for mass destruction, pretty young women and scrapping with heroic knights, including King Arthur himself. Oh, and he shoots poison darts and can turn invisible.’

So writes Russ Williams, in whose entertaining company I have now travelled the length of Wales to discover its tales. At its simplest ‘Where the Folk’ is a collection of Welsh folklore and legends. It is of course more than this (after all publisher Calon is an imprint of the non-fiction University of Wales Press) and Russ’s quest is also to seek out the tales’ locations and origins, teasing fact from fiction where possible.

The selection is eclectic on account of how this book came about, which is something of a story in itself. Confined to Cardiff (Caerdydd) during lockdown, Russ began a blog. ‘Where the Folk’ at first investigated legends close to home, such as Ifor Bach (who gave the equally legendary nightclub its name) and the ghosts and banshees of Caerffili. The blog grew in popularity and our hero Russ scored a publishing deal.

As Covid restrictions eased, he travelled west seeking locations associated with characters like pirate-fighting Sant Gofan in the company of his fair maiden Sophie, and north to his birthplace of Caernarfon where he explored stories like that of Rhys and Meinir of Nant Gwrtheyrn, with family and friends.

Curiosities

Some thirty-ish tales are showcased, the famous ones – like that of Devil’s Bridge (Pontarfynach) – rubbing cheek by jowl with lesser known curiosities such as Vampire Furniture. Who knew? Not I. Unlike Russ, who as a child was sustained by ‘storiau Nain’ (‘Nan’s stories’) in Cymraeg-speaking Caernarfon, I grew up with Peter Rabbit in Shropshire.

Nevertheless I was acquainted with more of these tales than I’d expected. Some I’d written about myself, others I’d absorbed over years spent west of the dyke. Russ’s range is broad, taking in customs, historical events and figures, and of course there is the Mabinogi.

I’ve never got my head around the Mabinogi whose fantastical fables I’ve found too convoluted for my poor brain to follow. Cue Russ. His jocular story-telling style suits complexity, whittling down rambling sagas to concise summaries in the style of someone in a pub recounting laddish exploits. This for example, is how he describes a crucial event in the tale of Gwern and Bendigeidfran, when Efnysien has just discovered the plot to kill his brother.

‘He asks if he can hold baby Gwern for a bit, only to cast him into the fire in front of everyone there and it all kicks off again.’

Pithy

Pithy. Perfect therefore, for the likes of me. His contemporary parlance makes ancient tales easy to understand. So too does his habit of interrupting himself with thoughts, slurps of tea, sausage rolls, comments from companions, or efforts to snap a photo; all of which also serve to drive the narrative along at a racy pace.

If it seems a tad too fast at times; some subjects getting more attention than others, overall the easily digestible blog-to-book format is a great success.

Loch Ness

Let’s return to the ‘Welsh Loch Ness monster.’ This of course is the afanc (modern Cymraeg for beaver), the mythical beast that allegedly haunted llynnoedd across the nation, and this tale is a personal favourite because I share with Russ an impulse to be on location. Whereas Russ sought the afanc in Brynberian and Sir Conwy, some years ago when writing about it for a magazine I chose Llyn Barfog.

I slept on the bank under a fat red moon and had a vivid dream about the llyn being swollen and turbulent, not from the thrashings of a monster but from a super-shoal of shining silver fish. I woke wondering if I’d had a revelation. Dreams feature frequently in ‘Where the Folk’ and although modern science suggests they’re how we process information, it’s not difficult to see how myth and truth mingled.

No doubt if I’d written this book it would drip with atmospheric landscapes, something Russ eschews for a style more convivial but in no way more simple. His accessible prose belies two things; some serious graft and the sensitivity you’d expect from the man behind ‘Brawd Awtistico’ (his other blog inspired by his autistic brother). Russ elicits musings on topics that too often become fraught (Welsh place names, restricted access, patriotism and more) when handled by less diplomatic souls.

Pesky beavers

As for graft, his research takes us way beyond wiki with an impressive bibliography. I’m no folklore expert but only once did I say ‘hmm’ (feeling there was more to reveal about Tŷ Hyll) and had only one wish; that Russ had expanded on his speculation that the afanc legend may have evolved from pesky beavers flooding valleys with their dam-building. Locally perhaps, though on the whole, I believe beaver activity reduces flooding. But I’m not one to criticise, having once accidentally introduced ‘lesser-spotted’ (rather than ‘little’) grebes to the internet, where a small flurry of sightings remain to this day.

Insightful

A welcome addition to his research are human resources such as David Moore (archivist and historian at the National Library of Wales) and folklorist Peter Stevenson whose contributions I found particularly insightful as they pertain to the history of storytelling itself. ‘Where the Folk’ reveals how stories might have evolved and the pitfalls of over-analysis. They are stories after all, kept alive for new audiences with constant refreshing.

It is this continuous endeavour I find touching. From Victorian-era entrepreneurs eager to entice tourists, the Welsh Language Board teaming up with Tesco to promote Santes Dwynwen, Pat and Ellie working hard to maintain the custom of the Mari Lwyd (despite the weight of the skull), or a host of creative primary school teachers, Russ Williams reveals a rich storytelling tradition in which ‘Where the Folk’ absolutely merits its place.

Where the Folk; a Welsh Folklore Road Trip by Russ Willliams is published by Calon. It is available from all good bookshops.