Readers Letter . . . .
September 6th, 2011
Dragons and Knotweed
A personal view from “Miserable Old Git”
On a fine summer’s day the castle grounds in Newcastle Emlyn are stunningly beautiful, with the sound of water rushing over the weir, the magnificent old trees, the wildlife on the river and the views out across the water meadows. True enough, the ruins of the castle are not much to write home about, but the magic of the place lies in its setting and in its wildlife.
During the last year a number of projects intended presumably to beautify the place have received very substantial grants from various public bodies. These include the new gates, the dragon’s egg sculpture, a mosaic, and now a series of “information” boards dotted around the castle grounds.
Others have commented on the huge sculpture which is meant to represent a dragon hatching from an egg. Quite a few people think it looks like a giant willy. It dominates the open space behind the castle ruins and can be seen from various vantage points below. Whether you like it or not is a question of personal taste, and the same applies to the gates and now the “information boards”.
The theme linking all of these installations is dragons.
Now, there is a genuinely old legend about a monstrous reptile which terrorised the area. In Welsh it is known as a gwiber, a word which normally means a viper or adder, but which as a mythical beast is usually translated as a wyvern. The monster was eventually slain, and its venom was said to have made the Teifi run black. The townspeople were heartily glad to see the back of it.
Whether there is any real historical event behind this legend, nobody knows. Perhaps there was once something or someone exceptionally dangerous which terrorised the town. A band of robbers, a disease, a plague of adders, perhaps.
Sadly, the information boards don’t tell us anything about this genuine local legend, but deal instead with a modern New Age tale with pseudo-religious overtones. Something to do with an egg, a coracle, wars, invasions, slaughter, townspeople weeping over the death of their beloved dragon and some mumbo jumbo about “Merlin’s prophecy”. This version bears almost no resemblance to the original, and is more than a little reminiscent of one of those 1970s concept albums dreamt up over whacky baccy on the top of Glastonbury Tor.
Like everything else, it’s a question of taste. Some people like Dan Brown; others prefer Tolstoy. But the difference here is that this private vision is being imposed on the town with publicly funded grants and no consultation with local people. And the fake legend of the Golden Dragon is displacing a genuine local tradition.
One of the new information boards was written by a local historian, and explains some of the history of the site, including the old mill leat. That at least is factual and real, and it is a pity that the rest of the boards are devoted to the mumbo jumbo of the fake legend.
There is so much to see along the river banks, and the boards could have told visitors and local people alike about what they are looking at. About the otters, the lampreys, the sewin, eels and other life in the river. They could have told us about the plants and trees and helped children and adults identify some of them. They could have told us about the river’s status as a SSSI and European Special Area of Conservation, because this is a very special place. They could have told us more about local history and how the landscape has changed. They could even have told us about the legend of the Gwiber.
It is often the case that public art projects are controversial, and it is good that they stimulate debate and make people think. The Big Art project in Cardigan is a case in point. It is also true that these projects should be sensitive to their surroundings and the history and culture of the local community, and I think that the dragon sculpture and the boards fail on both counts. A pity, because I’m sure that a lot of enthusiasm and work went into them.
So although the “Miserable Old Git” uses slightly colourful language, I think he (can a woman be an old git?) may have a point.