Omens

I was unable to attend the funeral this week of my writer friend Liz Whittaker, who has died of cancer. I am posting this blog in her memory.

I worked with Liz on the local paper, the Tivy-Side, and on the PENfro Book Festival committee, where she was a founding member. And in recent years we shared many happy hours talking about writing and our own creative pursuits. 

Below is my tribute to Liz, which was included with many others in the local press. And my poem 'Omens', one of several of mine to be inspired by this lovely (and very funny) woman. 'Omens' was written when she was first diagnosed with cancer in 2014 and appears in my collection, The Spaces in Between.

LIZ WHITTAKER

“A passionate advocate of the arts in Wales and further afield, Liz Whittaker was an inspiration to many.  She was a creative and witty person and a talented writer. Through her work with the Cardigan Writers group and with many individuals who sought her advice, she encouraged many people to write and explore their own creativity.

“Her valuable contribution as a founding member of the organising committee of the PENfro Book Festival also helped to promote the work of many of the talented writers we have in this area.

“On a personal level she was a most valued colleague and a true friend. She will be greatly missed by many in the Cardigan area and much farther afield.”

Omens

(for Liz)

Rubies on threads shine energy into the world.

A shower of tiny white dots, magnified a hundred times,

a constellation in a galaxy a million miles away,

or fireworks, rockets bursting against dark clouds.

But they are not out there, those ornaments,

not light years distant or high in the sky,

they are in you, my friend, deep inside, and silent.

Seen only on x-ray, or scanner screen, magnified a hundred times.

They are still wonders, so beautiful but deadly.

They will grow and grow, reproduce in a frenzy, become ugly.

They will murder you and take you away from us,

to your fantastic, explosive new universe –

like a shooting star magnified a million times.

And here's the link to my review of my favourite of Liz's books, 'The Bardic Monk':
http://jackie-news.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/how-would-we-know-ourselves-without-our.html

 

How would we know ourselves without our stories and songs?

At Glastonbury Abbey

A new story about Arthur, first King of all Britain, brings news from Wales about the whereabouts of the great King's grave.
 

‘The Bardic Monk – and the Grave of King Arthur’ is the latest novel from Cardigan-based writer Liz Whittaker.

It takes the reader on a journey through medieval Wales – and to Glastonbury – in search of the final resting place of Arthur.

This is a tale both of the stories and of the storytellers and recorders of 900 years ago, yet it has strong contemporary appeal.
 

The novel is about journeys – physical, personal and spiritual – and it is has magic and miracles to engage us on the way.

The tale begins with Walter Map, envoy to Henry II of England, who waits impatiently and uncomfortably for the arrival of his King at St Davids.

Map appeared as narrator in Liz’s earlier novel, ‘A Court in Splendour’, in which the comings and goings around Cardigan Castle were brought alive in the story of the first Eisteddfod. It is a pleasure to have him back again in this new work, and happily, he is just as gloriously pompous as he was before.

Henry II is travelling to west Wales to meet with a monk of no name, a small man both in stature and rank, who he hopes can help him to discover the final resting place of his hero ancestor, King Arthur.

The tale grows and develops new layers with the addition of the voice of the young Bardic Monk, who relates the story of Caradog, whose blessings brought miracles to many; and who passed to the little man the secret of the resting place of Arthur and Guinevere.

There is a sense of the fairy tale, but real folk and their chronicles are strongly interwoven into this yarn. The narrative of the importance of the small man in great affairs is given added spice by the conflict we witness between the little monk and Walter Map every time they meet.  Tension is created by the contrast between the self-important Map and the pious little monk and Map’s attempts at humility bring a wonderful irony. This is the art of storytelling at its best

As the herbalist who tends the Lord Rhys and the little monk tells us, we must cherish the Bardic Monks, for: ‘They are the beating heart of our land. How would we know ourselves without our stories and our songs?’ How would we, indeed.

* ‘The Bardic Monk and the Grave of King Arthur’, by Liz Whittaker, published by Llanerch Press Ltd. On sale now at bookshops, £10. also available from:
http://www.llanerchpress.com