Making cynghanedd accessible to deaf poets — a personal quest
“Mae’r glust yn bwysig. Rydych chi’n clywed yr acen”.
(“The ear is important. You hear the stressed vowel”).
My heart sank as the tutor said these words, seemingly thwarting my ambitions to master the strict metre of ‘cynghanedd’ poetry, which is a cherished tradition in Wales. As a Welsh speaker, and a poet, I had for many years had great thoughts about learning the mysterious ‘cynghanedd’. I had bought Myrddin ap Dafydd’s book ‘Clywed Cynghanedd’, but had found it to be too complicated to try to follow from scratch as a self-study guide, especially in my spare time from working as a lecturer. However, now was my chance, it seemed. I’d taken redundancy amid a restructure, then covered a period of maternity at another university, and now, despite applying for a few lecturing posts, I was 3 weeks away from being unemployed. On top of this, my sensorineural hearing loss, a phenotypic characteristic of Waardenburg syndrome type 1, was progressing and I was having to reimagine my future, including the kinds of work I would realistically be able to engage in.
However, undeterred, I optimistically envisaged a career in creative writing, which was my passion anyway, including finally getting to grips with cynghanedd. So, when I attended the National Eisteddfod of Wales in Llanrwst (August 2019) and saw that there were some free1, open-air taster workshops for cynghanedd, I was delighted and showed up at the designated time and place, bubbling with excitement and enthusiasm. It was a sunny day and the other attendees were friendly. The tutor was approachable and an esteemed cynghanedd poet; all seemed well. Then we began.
The most important aspect of cynghanedd, said the tutor, was ‘yr acen’ — the stress on the vowel in each word. This is not necessarily discernible from reading words on the page. The best way to identify the stressed vowel was by saying the word out loud — the ear was all important in cynghanedd, to hear the stressed vowel, and thus identify the consonants surrounding it which would need to be matched to form cynghanedd. This piece of information hit me hard — an unwelcome epiphany which appeared to spell the end of my dreams of merrily mastering cynghanedd in my increasingly silent bubble. So even though we also bent our knees whilst uttering the words, in order to feel and embody the stressed vowel, my adventure into cynghanedd appeared to be over before it had even really begun.
After the session, I wandered around the ‘Maes’, feeling slightly dazed, bewildered and a little sorry for myself. I bumped into one of my friends, who listened sympathetically, before pointing out that Aled Lewis Evans, a current and popular poet from my hometown of Wrecsam, didn’t do cynghanedd. I was surprised to hear this and decided I would talk to him about it when I got the chance. A few minutes later, I bumped into Aled himself, who confirmed that he did not use cynghanedd in his poetry, though he admired those who did. We then had an interesting discussion about the possibilities and the challenges of cynghanedd as I lose my hearing.
I still left the Eisteddfod that day, feeling rather glum. However, upon attending another writing workshop the next day at the Eisteddfod, I began ruminating and writing about this phenomenon I’d uncovered. Thus, like any poet worth her salt, I turned the experience into a poem — and it even had an optimistic ending, pondering how I might overcome these challenges. I later translated this poem into English and published both versions with some of my artwork as a bilingual pamphlet: ‘Y Ras I gynganeddu/ The race to cynganeddu’.
Over the following months, I resolved to begin learning cynghanedd in earnest, and, as luck would have it, one of the esteemed poets from the scene was going to be teaching an introductory course, via zoom due to lockdown. This was particularly fortuitous for me as the session would otherwise have taken place in Bangor, with meetings taking place in a pub. This would have been rather a long way for me to travel, from the Wirral peninsula, now that I was no longer working over at Bangor University. It would also have been more difficult for me to participate in a pub environment, where the background noise of chatter and music would have exacerbated my hearing loss.
The classes were excellent and attended by people from all over Wales and beyond. I found it difficult to grasp at first and was quite behind everybody else — which is not unusual for me since I have dyslexia. However, I found that a combination of the classes and self-studying the available books, including ‘Clywed Cynghanedd’ which is an excellent reference guide, enabled me to have some kind of breakthrough, where I at least gained a grasp of this unusual combination of systematic framework and creative art. It seemed like a meeting point between literature and linguistics as scholarly disciplines — and it is my belief now that this is what holds the key to making cynghanedd accessible for deaf poets.
Getting to grips with cynghanedd
Cynghanedd (Kəŋhánɛð) is a 24-metre rubric for writing particular kinds of Welsh poetry. Each metre combines use of alliteration and rhyme, which can include internal rhyme on the penult, which in Welsh is known as ‘Y Goben’. Many different types of poetry make use of cynghanedd, for example the various types of ‘Englyn’ (epigrammatic stanza) and the ‘Cywydd’ — poetry written in strict metre rhyming couplets, and the ‘Awdl’ — which is the poetry written for the ‘Chairing of the Bard’ competition in the National Eisteddfod of Wales each year. There are four main metres of cynghanedd, for which Mererid Hopwood offers the following translations2 in her English medium book ‘Singing in chains’:
· Cynghanedd Groes — Criss-cross harmony
· Cynghanedd Draws — Bridging harmony
· Cynghanedd Sain — Sonorous Harmony
· Cynghanedd Lusg — Echoing Harmony
In a journal article exploring the phonology of Welsh cynghanedd, Professor Michael Hammond of the University of Arizona notes that cynghanedd is “utterly remarkable in its stringency and complexity, falling well out of the norm for alliterative and rhyming traditions”, and that:
“Every line must exhibit one of a set of possible internal rhyme and consonant matching schemes. Consonant matching, when it occurs, can include virtually every consonant in the line”.
Our tutor for cynghanedd via Zoom drew our attention to the fact that cynghanedd is all around us in our everyday lives and is used, knowingly or unknowingly, in marketing, for example in the business name ‘Hanky Panky Pancakes’. I was delighted as this is a restaurant in the city of Chester — a few minutes from my home. What’s more, it is the venue for open mic sessions, organized by ‘Testify poetry’ a collective I was hoping to join, now that I had more time on my hands; it seemed quite likely, therefore, that the use of cynghanedd was deliberate. Our tutor also helped to make the learning experience more visual, using the accent sign above vowels on his slides. This got me thinking about how I could find ways to do the work of the ear, visually. As my understanding of cynghanedd grew, and I eventually managed to write one line of ‘sonorous harmony’ correctly, I began experimenting with my glass pen and ink:
So, the use of accents above the stressed vowel could instantly make cynghanedd more accessible to those unable to hear the accent. Other aspects could also be made visual, including the ‘caesura’. Meanwhile, in his article cited above, Michael Hammond had made use of the International Phonetics Alphabet (IPA) to convey the correct pronunciation of cynghanedd to an international audience — one that would not necessarily be familiar with the Welsh language. I began wondering then about how this might be applied within some kind of resource for cynghanedd.
It seemed to me that the reason that the ear was so important in cynghanedd, was in order to verify the correct identification of stress within a word, and also whether or not words which looked the same on the page did in fact rhyme, in everyday pronunciation — including dialectical Welsh, which is respected within the cynghanedd tradition. Equally, words can rhyme, and indeed have an internal rhyme, even if they use different letters on the page; for example: King of England would be an example of the sonorous harmony, because the I and the E are pronounced in the same manner.
If such a resource could be created, it would probably benefit others besides those with hearing loss. For example, even before my hearing loss began in earnest, I would often have trouble understanding how to pronounce certain words if I had only ever seen them written down; this was due, at least in part, to dyslexia and poor phonological awareness — something which might also hamper my mastery of cynghanedd.
The cynghanedd poet’s toolkit
In thinking about what kinds of resources could be created, a good place to start might be those which are already core elements of cynghanedd poets, particularly the ‘Odliadur’, the Welsh ‘rhyming dictionary’. As with the English versions, it is available as a book and also a searchable online resource and almost everyone engaged in cynghanedd will have one — though their use in competitive cynghanedd events is considered to be quite beyond the pale, in much the same way as their use is derided in English poetry. I am not ashamed to say that I make use of both of the aforementioned resources and I find them very useful. However, I am also fortunate enough to have a third version — a very old, possibly first ever version of the odliadur — it is difficult to say as there is no year printed in the book.
This leather-bound tome is much bigger than the modern odliadur, with smaller, more compact writing. Crucially, rather than simply listing words by rhyme, it also gives a sentence of explanation with each word; this is absent from the modern versions. Thus, if the poet does not already have the words in the odliadur in their vocabulary, they have to look up the meanings separately in the ordinary dictionary.
So this old book in itself is very useful indeed, particularly for me, since I am from Wrecsam, my family are working class, and my father’s family are from Rhosllannerchrugog — an old coal mining village, with its own esoteric dialect; whilst this in itself is not a problem for cynghanedd, since dialectical Welsh is embraced within cynghanedd, as long as it passes the ‘ear’ test, it does mean that my wider vocabulary is somewhat lacking. From my personal perspective, therefore, even if a new version of this old book could be printed — saving me from having to handle this precious but fragile treasure — this would be a most welcome new resource. If this feature could be incorporated into the online odliadur, and an electronic version of the book could be produced for download, this would also be very useful.
Additionally, I feel that a version of the odliadur could be designed specifically for cynghanedd poets, with the accent symbol to note the stress of a word added, thus making the stress in a word instantly easier to identify. This shouldn’t hamper the reader in any way, nor spoil enjoyment, and it would make this style of poetry more accessible to a variety of learners. The words would simply look like this:
Sára
Séren
Siwénna
Solíloquy
Sólipsist
Additionally, perhaps a version might also be produced using IPA, so that words would aesthetically contain all the information needed for pronunciation and stress, and thus their use in cynghanedd; this would result in words looking like this:
Kəŋhánɛð
Admittedly, this version of the odliadur would have a limited audience and utility, at least initially. However, perhaps workshops could be organized and made available to budding poets, to enable them to learn how to read IPA, as well as how to do cynghanedd. Depending on how these were funded, priority might be given to deaf poets, and other poets for whom cynghanedd is currently difficult to access.
I am mindful at this point to state that, culturally Deaf poets, whose first language is BSL, have their own literary traditions, including sign language poetry. Historically, the written word, including hearing culture poetry, has been difficult for d/Deaf poets to access, in large part due to the ban on the use of signed languages in the education of deaf children, following the now infamous conference of Milan in 1880. Thus, Deaf poets might not wish to engage in cynghanedd. However, some Deaf poets might be interested from an artistic and philosophical perspective, in terms of what studying different forms of poetry can teach us about the nature of poetry. Alternatively, if they are from Deafhearing, Welsh-speaking families, like mine, they may be interested from a culture and heritage point of view.
Whatever their reasons, I think it is important that unnecessary barriers be removed in order to facilitate the enjoyment of deaf poets of this ancient literary endeavour. There may also be an opportunity here from cross-pollination and creation of unique Deafhearing art experiences, in much the same way as sign-singing does.
Meanwhile, I can’t imagine that I am the only person in my predicament of being, or at least nearing towards being, post-lingually deaf, and wishing to retain a connection to some aspects of hearing culture. Whilst I am fascinated by sign language poetry, and am currently reading all I can about this literary tradition, I have a very long journey ahead of me before I can even begin to properly appreciate sign language poetry, much less attempt any of my own. Also, at this present time, I am still fascinated by cynghanedd and so anything which can be done to retain my ability to engage with the process would be most welcome.
In recent times, there has been some discussion, on the Welsh medium literary scene, about gender inequalities — particularly in terms of the Welsh literature GCSE curriculum. Other obvious inequalities include social class, race, and geographic location, in terms of representation on the curriculum, and I have argued elsewhere that greater transparency in terms of poets’ demographics, as well as the criteria for selection of poets for the curriculum, would be a good start for tackling underlying inequalities. I feel now would also be a good time to include in the discussions the kinds of resources and interventions to further help tackle these inequalities for marginalized groups.
These are difficult times, and this may seem a rather niche and perhaps even trivial matter to be discussing. If this were a grant application, I would now have reached the point of needing to answer the ‘So what?’ question. Why bother? Who cares? Who will it benefit, how and why? These are always difficult questions to answer in the arts and humanities and it may again seem somewhat simplistic to say that with increased diversity comes increased innovation, strength and creativity. However, this is, quite simply, true with regards to this matter.
If we think for a second, about the poem ‘Invictus’, written by English poet William Ernest Henley, following multiple surgical interventions due to complications relating to tuberculosis. This poem has its roots in one individual’s struggle with ill-health and disability. However, at its core it is about resilience and self-discipline, and it was reportedly Nelson Mandela’s favourite poem and a source of strength and inspiration to him during his long years of imprisonment.
My point is that the voices of deaf poets, and many other marginalized groups, are currently missing from cynghanedd poetry, and indeed from the Welsh poetry scene in general — and this is to its detriment. There are perhaps all sorts of exciting possibilities in store for cynghanedd, if we can just find a way to make it accessible to a more diverse range of poets. I therefore feel confident that my personal quest is a reasonable and worthy one. I am currently right at the beginning of this fascinating project, but I have already had many fruitful discussions on the matter. I would be interested in hearing from anyone who agrees with me and would like to discuss the matter further.
Email: saralouisewheeler@googlemail.com
Twitter/ Instagram/ Medium/ @SerenSiwenna
Notes
1. The various sessions were sponsored by Barddas, Tŷ Newydd Writing Centre, and Literature Wales.
2. Citing previous authors who have coined the terms.
3. British Sign Language in the UK, other countries have their own sign languages, for example American Sign Language.
