R. S. Thomas – Priest and Poet
This year saw the 100th anniversary of the birth of the priest and poet R. S. Thomas. Born in Cardiff, his family moved to Holyhead when he was only five years old because his father’s work in the merchant navy. After reading Classics at Bangor University, he completed his theological training in St. Michael’s College, Llandaff and was ordained deacon then priest. He served as a curate in Denbighshire and Flintshire, then toMontgomeryshire as Rector of St. Michael’s,Manafon, near Welshpool. It was here that Thomas began to study Welsh and published his first three volumes of poetry; The Stones of the Field (1946),An Acre of Land (1952) and The Minister (1953). It was in 1955 however, that he had a real breakthrough with his fourth book Song at the Year’s Turning, although it was basically a collection of works from the first three books. Sir John Betjeman wrote the famous introduction to the book;
"the name which has the honour to introduce this fine poet to a wider public will be forgotten long before that of R. S. Thomas."
The beauty of the landscape of Wales, stories from the parish and the lives of ordinary men and womenlabouring on the farms form the backdrop for his work. Thomas was a Welsh Nationalist, who saw the Welsh people as being ‘conquered’ by the English. This view, and his faith, are embedded in all his work to a degree. There is no doubt that his later works were more spiritual in nature, as he attempted to make sense of the post-industrial world.
Thomas’ son Gwydion, remembers his father‘droning on’ during sermons on the evils of modern life, where people would ‘scramble after modern gadgets’, such as washing machines andtelevisions, and neglect their spiritual lives. Thomas’ once purchased a vacuum cleaner, only to declare that is was ‘too noisy’ before expelling it from the family home. Thomas and his wifeMildred, lived a frugal life, with a modest income, retiring in 1978 to an unheated cottage in Y Rhiw, near Aberdarron, on the Llŷn Peninsular.
His autobiography Neb (nobody in English) written in 1995, referred to himself in the third-person, and told of his alienation from the modern world. He died on the 25th September 2000 in Criccieth, and is buried in Portmadog.
On creativity and God, Thomas said;
“The nearest we approach God…is as creative beings. The Poet, by echoing the primary imagination, recreates. Through his work he forces those who read him to do the same, thus bringing them…nearer to the actual being of God as displayed in action.”
Professor Meurig Wyn Thomas wrote of R. S. Thomas describing him as the AlexanderSolzhenitsyn of Wales, because of the angst and anticipation in his works.
To finish this article, some of Thomas’ Poetry;
Praise
I praise you because
you are artist and scientist
in one. When I am somewhat
fearful of your power,
your ability to work miracles
with a set-square, I hear
you murmuring to yourself
in a notation Beethoven
dreamed of but never achieved.
You run off your scales of
rain water and sea water, play
the chords of the morning
and evening light, sculpture
with shadow, join together leaf
by leaf, when spring
comes, the stanzas of
an immense poem. You speak
all languages and none,
answering our most complex
prayers with the simplicity
of a flower, confronting
us, when we would domesticate you
to our uses, with the rioting
viruses under our lens.
R. S. Thomas
The Chapel Deacon
Who put that crease in your soul,
Davies, ready this fine morning
For the staid chapel, where the Book's frown
Sobers the sunlight? Who taught you to pray
And scheme at once, your eyes turning
Skyward, while your swift mind weighs
Your heifer's chances in the next town's
Fair on Thursday? Are your heart's coals
Kindled for God, or is the burning
Of your lean cheeks because you sit
Too near that girl's smouldering gaze?
Tell me, Davies, for the faint breeze
From heaven freshens and I roll in it,
Who taught you your deft poise?
R. S. Thomas
