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When it first appeared in 1975 as Dylan Thomas: Poet of his People, this book was panned by critics in Wales for its factual errors and unsound judgements, particularly with regard to the Welsh background. This new edition, under a different title, has had the advantage of all the books that have appeared since 1975, particularly the biographies by Paul Ferris and the writings of such critics as Walford Davies and many others, some of whom are acknowledged here and some not.
The ‘bard’ of the title is a pointer to Sinclair’s misty-eyed approach to things Welsh and to the romantic English view of the function of the poet in Welsh society in the medieval period. It is, in my view, so gushing that obscures rather than illuminates the life and work of a man who knew no Welsh, not even enough to understand an englyn on a tombstone or a hymn in chapel.
Sinclair is at his best when describing Thomas in Fitzrovia, brawling and cadging his way around the pubs and drinking with some colourful characters, though even there the narrative is pretty sketchy. It is as if he is determined to press him into the role of the boozy poet, ‘the windy boy and a bit’ whom many found tiresome at the time and whose slide into debt and alcoholism has long since lost its charm to entertain.
In tracing his visits to America and the last, fatal one in 1953, this book relies too heavily on Malcolm Brinnin and Constantine Fitzgibbon, down to the last whisky and the oxygen tent, and on the hysterical rantings of Caitlin, the poet’s widow, ever since. It is surely time to draw a veil over such details and let them rest in the decent obscurity they deserve.
The only new material here is an appendix on ‘The Making of Under Milk Wood’, that is to say the film which Sinclair made in 1971, with Richard Burton as the First Voice, Elizabeth Taylor as Rosie Probert, Peter O’Toole as Captain Cat and Siân Phillips as Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard. Here again we have to put up with writing like this: ‘The timeless powers of the Gwaun Valley, where the pagan stones still stand at the doorways and the mistletoe hangs from the wind-bent oaks, the powers of light and night, wind and water, stone and hill, crow and cromlech, Celtic cross and bleeding yew, which are still the old gods in that Pembrokeshire where the ancient Celts quarried stones to drag all the way to Stonehenge.’ Oh, and it’s good to know that David Jason took the part of Nogood Boyo in his first film role. How much more do we need to know?
Meic Stephens
It is possible to use this review for promotional purposes, but the following acknowledgement should be included: A review from www.gwales.com, with the permission of the Welsh Books Council.
Gellir defnyddio’r adolygiad hwn at bwrpas hybu, ond gofynnir i chi gynnwys y gydnabyddiaeth ganlynol: Adolygiad oddi ar www.gwales.com, trwy ganiatâd Cyngor Llyfrau Cymru.
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