Thursday, March 01, 2007

Ode to Spike

What is a Bongaloo Daddy?
A Bongaloo sonny said I
Is a long time ago
When I sat on a knee
Saw a future within my mind’s eye

What is true love Daddy?
True love sonny said I
Is the feeling you get
When someone you’ve met
Takes your heart and you don’t know why

What is hypocrisy Daddy?
Hypocrisy sonny said I
Is talking of values
You hold in your heart
And living a terrible lie

What is our God Daddy?
Our God sonny said I
Is relief from a life
Belief in our strife
Is even beyond the word ‘why’

What is a family Daddy?
A family sonny said I
Is us all alone
Internally blown
A unit to huddle and cry

What is my problem Daddy?
Your problem sonny said I
Is one of perception
Our greatest deception
The body is greater than ‘I’

What is Morquio’s Daddy?
Morquio’s sonny said I
Is something I hate
The future I wait
And question that massive ‘why?’

What is poetry Daddy?
Poetry sonny said I
Is a way of releasing
That pressure increasing
Enabling me to not cry.

Contested places - the question of the Welsh landscape

Insider versus outsider experience seems a key element of the debate. The inference that outsiders may adopt a more aesthetic approach to Wales is also interesting. Coming from a mongrel family of Welsh, Scottish, Irish and English roots I can only offer a personal perspective to the debate that is flavoured by a lack of depth to 'rootedness'. Using a botanical analogy I am fixed to this earth, absorbing nutrients, through a fuzz of fine wiry roots and I look with a certain envy on those that profess to have a tap root, holding them tightly to their place. I am also quite capable of cutting self-analysis and know that those of us with fuzzy roots are adept at creating a pseudo tap root through local history research etc...not for de-facto personal gain, but as a tool to convince others that we are more firmly anchored than we may be. I am not sure, however, that this is purely a Welsh / English debate.

I spent most of my formative years in rural Hampshire. Many of the arguments presented in the Welsh / English debate are equally applicable to areas of England; areas that were once discrete, with local dialects and customs. The essence of the north Cornish coast and the fishing communities that lived there had nothing more in common with the woodlands of north Hampshire and their besom makers, or the market traders from Nine Elms that plied their trade over 19th century Lambeth than the fact that they shared this island. They spoke a language that was common, in the main, but that was more a result of the time-frame than design. The case would have been very different 600 years before. The truth, to me, is that we live in heavily contested lands, with a landscape that lays testament to this.

It is something of a shame that most people are now too wrapped up in their own issues to consider the wider context. I don't feel that those residents of England that I know even consider 'Englishness', let alone reflect on any imperialist past. It is also fairly ironic that, having been on both sides of the border, the concept of Englishness often has its genesis in Wales. This issue of imperialism, incidentally, is also surfacing in the debate over the IUCN protected area categories. It is a useful debate to have as I believe we will only see light if we get to the other side of it.

What is interesting is that in order to reject the 'them and us' approach, one must inherently accept that there is a 'them and us', even if this is only reflecting the historical situation. To reject the 'them and us' implies concessions and indeed the levelling of differences. I am not sure that we should attempt to level differences. What may be more interesting is that the 'them' may consist of so many discrete units, individuals, etc that they cannot possibly constitute a single 'them'. Indeed the only thread holding them together is that they are bounded by the shores of an island, the same shores that bound 'us', leading to the conclusion that the 'them and us' is a product of perception. If we are to deal with perception we may approach this from a different angle than if we were dealing with a more tangible issue.

I am not sure where this leaves the debate over landscape. I gather from Scottish colleagues that their version of this debate has been fruitful. Emerging from the other side has been a renewed pride and sense of ownership in the land. This must be a good thing. I gather that the debate is also running hard in Ireland as we speak.

My gut reaction is that the whole debate is tied up in the complex interplay of genetics and intellectual debate. I firmly believe that we have a hard wired response to our environment. I find it hard to believe that we don't have a heritable response to an environment that fulfils our need as a species. Those ancestors that chose the wrong place to live didn't produce offspring, those that did, did. I also believe that we have a hardwired propensity to disperse. Something that all species must do to survive. So, with a genetic urge to disperse and an inherited preference for suitable habitats we have the basis for an appreciation of 'landscape' that seems to come from within. To me, this supports both the notion of the sublime, the agreeable horror associated with dangerous landscapes in that we are driven to move through them in search of the other side, an urge that must have a pleasurable component for it to be so compelling, and our appreciation of the classical, Arcadian idyll. I also feel that our notion of natural beauty has grown from this genetic response.

Over thousands of generations we have sought to intellectualise this response. We have constructed frameworks that explain it, we have fitted it within religious philosophies, we have rejected it (thus giving it substance), and we have written poetry about it and painted it. It is my opinion that any notion of 'them and us' results from the ways in which we have intellectualised it, not in differences in the response. If we are going to tackle the issue of the Welsh landscape I believe the answer lies in our investigation of the intellectual response rather than the landscape itself.