Banjo

Disgrifiad Cymraeg / Welsh Description

Casgliad o gerddi Samantha Wynne-Rhydderch, gyda phrif adran y gyfrol yn cynnwys cerddi yn dathlu canmlwyddiant taith Capten Scott a'i gyd-anturiaethwyr i Begwn y De yn 1912.

Disgrifiad Saesneg / English Description

While Banjo opens with a clutch of fine lyrics, elegies and set-pieces, at the heart of Samantha Wynne-Rhydderch's book is a remarkable tale of darkness and light, music and silence. Celebrating the centenary of Captain Scott's arrival at the South Pole in 1912, Banjo gives us new psychological insight into the lives of the early Antarctic pioneers.

Dosbarthu

Byddwn yn dosbarthu eitemau sydd mewn stoc o fewn 3 diwrnod gwaith, fel arfer drwy Royal Mail Tracked 48. Ar gyfer archebion o flaen llaw, byddwn yn dosbarthu’r eitem o fewn 3 diwrnod gwaith ar ôl ei derbyn gan ein cyflenwr.

Dispatch

In-stock items will be dispatched within 3 business days, usually by Royal Mail Tracked 48. For pre-orders, we’ll dispatch within 3 business days of receiving the item from our supplier.

Adolygiad y Cyhoeddwr / Publisher Review

I am an absolute sucker for an historical tragedy, so prior to even opening the pages of Samantha Wynne-Rhydderch’s Banjo , I anticipated a good read. Wynne-Rhydderch devotes half of her book to giving voice to the doomed company of the final Scott expedition to the South Pole in 1912 and the results are simply captivating. The first poem in the sequence ‘The Piano’ recounts the difficulties of manoeuvring a piano into place on the Terra Nova , and the poet easily conjures the levity on board. The frivolity of using the cook’s meat saw to cut a hole big enough to accommodate the instrument is perhaps an indicator of the lack of preparedness that ultimately took the men to their fate. All of the poems are shadowed by the reader’s knowledge in this way, but the gentle, ominous nuances eventually give way to the full horror of bleak helplessness in the desolation of the permanent polar night. ‘Curtain Call’ is quietly despairing and resigned to the power of the elements: 'Yesterday I threw a cup Of boiling tea into the air To see it freeze before it hit The ice. If I breathe near a sheet of my diary the pencil slips across its polished page as if I’m writing in a book of glass. Our clothes crackle Like suits of armour.' The descent is rapid as the men realise their exposure to the extreme environment is probably fatal. The alien landscape turns their sleeping bags to stone and clothing glitters, laced with the means of the company’s annihilation. Wynne-Rhydderch’s research is phenomenal (in ‘Printing Press’ she lists the specific foods eaten by the crew for instance) and the poems are therefore immersive and beautifully realised. The internalised viewpoints of the men aboard Terra Nova are utterly convincing and their loneliness complete. Indeed, the most ‘alive’ objects in their universe are the chairs that jump and dance to the sea’s beat. The piano and banjo become the female characters softening the unrelenting gloom and rigidity of Antarctica. The first half of the book, a short collection of assorted poems, is just as successful. I particularly enjoyed ‘Tomahawk’, a fascinating and moving elegy to the poet’s grandmother, ostensibly a Native American Indian. I’m currently obsessed with all things Native-American-Indian so I was drawn to this piece immediately. Equally, Wynne-Rhydderch’s sophisticated marriage of the body of a person and the body of a city in the opening poem is clever and interesting. I also found that twenty-four hours after first reading the book, my mind was still dwelling on the unexpectedly affectionate portrayal of a corroded tin roof in ‘For the Love of Rust’, and the subtle graffiti (‘Anna Loves Dave’) on the pebbledash underneath the windowsill of the narrator’s childhood home. Overwhelmingly, I feel this book has become a new favourite of mine. The stylised cover (of Terra Nova traversing frozen seas) is quite gorgeous too. Now, I’m off to find my hot water bottle…