A review of a visit to Puzzle Wood in the Forest of Dean
Source: The Puzzle of the Wood
A review of a visit to Puzzle Wood in the Forest of Dean
Source: The Puzzle of the Wood
What am I? Nosing here, turning leaves over
Following a faint stain on the air to the river’s edge
I enter water. Who am I to split
The glassy grain of water looking upward I see the bed
Of the river above me upside down very clear
What am I doing here in mid-air?
Ted Hughes, Wodwo
There is something about walking in a wood which stirs something within us. The dappled sun filtering through the canopy, the twisty roots and gnarled boughs, the dripping moss, ferns and fungi, the green silence. It gets the imagination going. We start to see things, or daydream – as though the wood draws out our dreams and give them form.
This was the late, great novelist Robert Holdstock’s flash of genius – one that came to him in a writing workshop in Milford-on-Sea in 1979, which resulted in an award-winning short story (1981), which led to a multiple prize-winning novel, Mythago Wood (1984), and spawned a series seven connected of novels over the ensuing 25 years. If Holdstock never visited Puzzle Wood in the Forest of Dean (he tragically died of an e-coli infection aged 61, in 2009) then it feels like it visited him – as though it had sprung from his fecund mind.
The 14 acre stretch of ancient woodland deep in the heart of the Forest of Dean is riddled with pathways which snake their ways amid the rocky outcrops, tangle of trees, creepers, ferns and roots. The result of a collapsed cave system which was mined by the Romans for iron – the mineral yew trees love, as is evidenced by the many mature specimens there, rising from the rock they both cling to and shatter with their tensile roots and long bow limbs. For centuries this curious sylvan labyrinth has drawn visitors to wander and wonder at its origins and denizens. It is easy to imagine it being frequented by all manner of elves, gnomes, goblins, dryads and dwarves. Some believe Tolkien visited it and found inspiration (in fact he visited the nearby Lydney Park, which boasts similar workings – known as ‘Scowles’ – cheek-by-jowl to the ancient temple to Nodens – being surveyed at the time by the archaeologist Mortimer Wheeler. There, hearing of the ‘Lord of the Mines’, as Nodens was called, and seeing the legend-soaked ruins gave him some serious material to conjure with). Yet the magical associations with Puzzle Wood have lingered, enhanced in an interesting way by the many recent TV and film productions shot there: Merlin; Atlantis; Wizards vs Aliens, Dr Who, Jack the Giant Slayer and the latest instalment in the Star Wars franchise: The Force Awakens. Walking amongst the weird tree-scape of Puzzlewood the ‘mythagos’ (to use Holdstock’s term for archetypal forms generated by a human imagination interacting with the wood’s ‘consciousness’) conjured are drawn from the very same pool of myth as his cast (Merlin; King Arthur; Morgana le Fay; time-travelling wizards; Jack the folk hero; dark lords with fiery blades and Force-full maidens) but it is one fed to us from movies and TV series, rather than the oral tradition or literary folk tale. A similar process is occurring as perhaps might have transpired in the Middle Ages, when villagers ventured into the wood, all too aware of the perils to be found there to their souls: demons and witches, wodwoses and wyverns, the Good Folk and Old Scrat himself, evoked by thunderous sermons and stained glass windows – the cinema of its day. The green men and gargoyles that linger in the corners of church architecture were always there to pounce upon the wayward soul.
Today, a walk in the woods is a lot safer – certainly at the family-friendly Puzzlewood (which offers cute animals, treasure trails, café, picnic areas, and other attractions). But even in such a ‘managed experience’ there is magic to be found. All you have to do is pause and spend a while soaking in the ambience and let your imagination soar. Such a place brings out our natural storyteller, and we start to populate it with our own fanciful musings (for example, a troll beneath a billygoat bridge, as I heard one adult whimsy). A milder form of Holdstock’s mythago-generation occurs. The wood mirrors what we bring into it, but also transforms it – it takes the carbon of our mundane lives and turns it into the oxygen of ideas.
One of the wood’s charming characteristics is the way it has different levels – one moment you are looking down on a Pan’s labyrinth, next thing you know, you’re squeezing through a mossy cleft into a hidden dell. The collapse of the cavern system and the Roman quarry have, in effect, brought the ‘unconscious’ of the landscape into the light. What was hidden in the dark has now been revealed. I think this why it feels so numinous – it feels like a slippage of the waking world into the realm of dream. Suddenly, we’re in the stuff that tales are made of. To explore it is to create your own narrative thread – albeit one that inevitably gets tangled as we get lost, cross the paths of others, double-back, and basically get into a bit of a muddle. Getting lost in a wood, even in a semi-conscious way, makes us all, for a moment, Hansel and Gretel. Yet, the visitor centre is not far away, and the madding world is noisily nearby. It is impossible to forget yourself or your century entirely, but for a little while we almost can. The puzzle is not that it is there, but that we bother to come back at all. For a spell, we can pretend to be babes in the wood, until the cold drives us to the cafe!
Puzzle Wood reminded me of another woodland nearby (Rocks East Woodland, on the borders of Gloucestershire, Wiltshire, and Somerset). Rocks East has it’s own ‘valley of the rocks’ (also probably a Roman quarry), grotto, sculpture trail, turf maze, and peculiar magic. It is a place I have a special connection with – a decade’s worth of stories: http://www.rockseast.org.uk/
Source: The Heart of Poetry
Poetry by Heart is a national recitation competition for 14-18 year olds, held across Britain in early Spring each year. It was started by Sir Andrew Motion, former poet laureate and now involves 100s of schools and students around the country. School heats produce winners and runners up who go onto to compete for the county finals. Then the winners of the county round go onto the regional and national finals held in the hallowed halls of Homerton College, Cambridge, in March. The event is recorded and broadcast by BBC Radio 4, and the footage of previous years is available to view on the Poetry by Heart website. The contestants have to commit two poems to memory to perform on the day: one from pre-1914 and one post, or from the First World War. The fecund competition anthology has a wide selection from Beowulf to 21st Century poets, reflecting the diversity of voices within the British Isles and beyond. To hear these young voices reciting such material is inspiring.
On Wednesday 10th February I co-ordinated and MCed the Gloucestershire Finals at Hawkwood College. The result of a lot of organizing, the day itself ran smoothly, thanks to a team of professionals which I selected: the 3 judges (Jay Ramsay; Gabriel Bradford Millar; and Dominic James, the current Bard of Hawkwood); the accuracy judge and prompt, Anthony Nanson; sound tech support from Chantelle Smith; photography from Fred Chance; and guest poetry from Adam Horovitz; and not forgetting the warm-hearted support of Katie Lloyd-Nunn and her team at Hawkwood. It was a prime example of creative collaboration.
I love providing platforms for people to shine in – and that’s precisely what this afternoon was. We were all there to support the young bards and provide the most conducive space possible for them to perform in. Adam Horovitz gave them some top tips to help them use the mike and the space to the best of their ability. To step up to the mike and perform from memory two poems in front of a crowd of people takes a lot of guts – something I couldn’t have done as a young schoolkid (without serious coaching). But it is enormously empowering – it builds confidence and self-esteem, and such public speaking skills will serve you in good stead for the rest of your life, as will a poem or two up your sleeve: life wisdom at the drop of a hat. I can vouch for this having won the Bard of Bath competition back in 1998 with a feat of memory and creativity (my epic poem, Spring Fall: the story of Sulis and Bladud of Bath). That was for me, a defining moment, and one that launched my creative career. Perhaps for some of the young contestants of Poetry by Heart, their participation will be the start of a life-time association with the spoken word – it will certainly be a significant experience that will stay with them. Poetry becomes not just something to study, and then forget, after school, but a life-long companion.
Learning a poem by heart embodies its rhythms and wisdom – internalizing it in a way that no intellectualizing could by itself. It becomes a visceral experience that can set your heart pacing. In the same way that performing an exciting myth, legend or folk tale can be a thrilling experience, so too with poetry. You are living the words. The electric current of the initial inspiration is restored to the text and you get a frisson of what inspired the writer in the first place. The poem is resuscitated with meaning, coming alive off the page. It is a phoenix-like act as a poem decades, or even centuries old, becomes a living, breathing thing again – having resonance and vitality to modern ears and minds. The young poet learns the power of the conscious utterance – the magical power of language. They learn to listen, to speak wise and beautiful words, and they learn the power of memory. To make the effort to learn a poem, reciting it again and again until it becomes fixed within the long-term cortex (downloaded to our internal hard-drive, as it were) is to be given the keys to the palace of memory. That vast temple reveals itself and a lifetime of discovery awaits. Away from the ubiquitous devices that dominate modern life we rediscover the breath-taking potential of the human mind.
And surely this is something that all teachers and schools should be supporting – with the funding from government to make it viable. The training of memory is a significant by-product, but more than this it is to return heart and soul to education.
Poetry is good for the soul’s growth. It ennobles us and deepens our humanity.
Initiatives such as Poetry by Heart enable all to tap into and experience the living Bardic Tradition. To discover more about the Bardic Tradition, check out:
Tea with the Bard: http://www.hawkwoodcollege.co.uk/courses-and-events/arts/tea-with-the-bard
Day of the Bard: http://www.hawkwoodcollege.co.uk/courses-and-events/arts/day-of-the-bard
Bard of Hawkwood Contest: http://www.hawkwoodcollege.co.uk/courses-and-events/arts/bard-of-hawkwood-competition
The Bardic Handbook by Kevan Manwaring (Gothic Image, 2006): http://www.kevanmanwaring.co.uk/the-bardic-handbook.html
Copyright Kevan Manwaring 14 February 2016