The pearl of Celtic literature, the completed expression of the Cymric genius." [1] So Ernest Renan on The Mabinogion. Renan is probably more familiar to readers of Books & Culture as the author of a controverted Life of Jesus (1863) than as an essayist on the Celtic races, but if we have misgivings about his Christology, let them not deter us from heeding these choice words. Nor do you have to be Welsh to say so, proud as the Welsh are of their literary tradition as of the antiquity of their spoken language. [2]
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The Mabinogion is the name commonly used for a collection of eleven medieval Welsh tales which unveil for us a world of magic, mist, and myth, where there is no manifest boundary between what we might call the "natural" and "supernatural," a space where heroes and maidens, chivalry and enchantment, love and death, war and friendship flower and flourish. What Feuerbach said mischievously of another world—"Nothing ever happened normally in Old Testament Israel"—can be said meaningfully of this one. The Mabinogion constitutes a magnificent and influential literature that has proved to be a vital and major tributary in European culture, one way or another. If "medieval Wales" conveys anything to non-medieval non-Welsh folk, it is doubtless the image of King Arthur and his gallant company. Arthur appears in a few of the tales of The Mabinogion, but he is neither a dashing nor even (overtly) a dominant figure by and large. Never mind. Enter this world and you will find more wond'rous things than Arthur.
A new translation invites us to make that entry. Its author, Professor Sioned Davies of Cardiff University, explains her rationale:
The overriding aim of this translation has been to convey the performability of the surviving manuscript versions … . The Mabinogion were tales to be read aloud to a listening audience—the parchment was "interactive" and vocality was of its essence. Indeed, many passages can only be truly captured by the speaking voice. The acoustic dimension was, therefore, a major consideration in this new translation.
This explanatory note is preceded by quite a long introduction and followed by a guide to the pronunciation of Welsh words, a short bibliography, and a map. So readers who are shortly to encounter arms and warriors, as they encounter these tales, are themselves well-armed for the encounter, and the equipment Sioned Davies supplies is adequate to the need. A further resource is provided at the end of the translation: over sixty pages of notes go into significant detail explaining allusions in the text and providing indices of personal and place names. The whole is usefully and pleasingly managed; the scholarship is detailed; the reader can thus both enjoy and enjoy knowledgeably.
The key question, of course, is whether the scholarship and textual care fortify a translation of commendable quality. Here, I have two reservations. First, Sioned Davies takes for granted that it is impossible to convey the literary force of the original in translation. She is certainly not to be faulted for any failure to do the impossible. But the stated description of her aim does not alert the reader to the extent to which she (or any translator) is bound to fall short. Her remark, quoted above, that "the acoustic dimension was … a major consideration in this new translation" is followed by the assurance that "every effort has been made to transfer the rhythm, tempo and alliteration of the original to the target language." But if we survey the alliteration in the original, we shall see how non-transferable it is, and the original unity of rhythm and tempo is therefore not captured in translation. Take the very first lines of the very first story. "Pwyll, prince of Dyfed, was lord over the seven cantrefs of Dyfed. Once upon a time he was at Arberth, one of his chief courts, and it came into his head and his heart to go hunting." The "h/d," "h/t" effect in "head" and "heart" and "hunting" works as well as can be expected, and there are many lines in this translation, unexpected in the English, that are explained by comparison with the Welsh original. For example, from the story "How Culhwch Won Olwen": "Knife has gone into meat and drink into horn, and a thronging in the hall of Arthur." The choice of "thronging" is doubtless governed by the advantage of picking up "thr" in "Arthur," and it reproduces what we find in the Welsh: "amsathyr y neuad Arthur." [3] So a reasonable attempt is being made; but compare the opening lines of that first story, which I have quoted above, with the Middle Welsh text [4] (the italics give a rough guide to where the accent should fall in reading):





