Pig Village and the mockery of Cymraeg

Stephen Rule (Doctor Cymraeg)

A few months back, Northop Hall found itself in the news. Not for a scandal, or a bypass proposal, or a council funding row… but for pigs. Or more specifically, the threat of pigs on a sign.

The local council had suggested including Pentre’ Moch (the Welsh name) on signage alongside “Northop Hall.”

You’d have thought they’d proposed a sewage plant!

Articles appeared in print, on TV, and online… some balanced, some bemused, but most lacking even the faintest curiosity about what the name meant or why it mattered.

And that’s what gets me. Because Pentre’ Moch is a beautiful name. Not crude. Not silly. Not offensive.
Just old. Local. Rich in story. Rooted in a Welsh cultural landscape that rarely gets to speak.

Anglo-centric media landscape

But this is what happens in a country where print and television media remain overwhelmingly anglo-centric. We live in a land where you can grow up knowing the names of Manchester United’s back four better than the history of your own village.

Where Welsh is treated as quaint, exotic, or, God forbid, embarrassing. And where even the most mythic, storied parts of our toponymy are flattened into punchlines.

In the vacuum created by English-dominated media, Wales is often left without the tools to explain itself to itself.

Which is one of the many reasons, I believe, why Wales voted with England in the Brexit vote.

We didn’t see ourselves as distinct – because we’re rarely given the chance.

So why pigs? Why Pentre’ Moch?

Well, for one thing, Wales is absolutely littered with pig-place-names. Mochdre. Mochnant. Mochras. Llarhaeadr-ym-mochnant.

You can barely go more than twenty miles without bumping into a herd of them on the map… or whatever the collective name for a group of pigs is!

And these aren’t random. They’re not culinary tributes or farmyard jokes. These names speak to something deeper; the symbolic power of pigs and boars in Celtic mythology.

From the monstrous Twrch Trwyth of the Mabinogi, hunted by Arthur himself, to the sacred pigs of Irish and Welsh legend that could lead you to the Otherworld, these animals were more than meat.

They were messengers. Warnings. Treasure-bearers. Transformative forces. In short: they mattered.

And they still do… or, at least, they should. Because the fact that the name Pentre’ Moch could make headlines in the first place says everything about the cultural ecosystem we live in.

An ecosystem shaped by anglo-centric media; one often too arrogant to ask, or too ignorant to care.

Imagine if one of those articles had paused long enough to wonder: Hang on, why would a village be named after pigs?

They might have uncovered a web of stories that stretched back over a thousand years.

But curiosity doesn’t sell. Mockery does.

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