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And so we went to bed


By Gillian Morgan, 2014-05-13

Relatives on both sides had given us sheets and blankets and as our nine o'clock bedtime was still a few hours away we decided to make the bed.

Our bedroom overlooked the main road. (The landlady's mother, who by now I had christened 'Ladyfach' because she was so small, had her bedroom a short flight of stairs away from ours.  We'd seen her briefly when we'd arrived, but she had since disappeared.  I later realised she spent most of her time sleeping by the stove in her kitchen). 

Apart from the bed there was a double wardrobe and dressing table in our room, but there was no other way of storing our belongings. Deciding that the quilt and one of the blankets would be enough to keep us warm, we  covered the mattress with the other two blankets before putting the bottom sheet on.

Carefully, Peter checked that the blankets were placed squarely on the mattress, with the overlap on both sides being equal. We did the same with the bottom sheet, then tucked them in carefully. (Peter had done two years National Service, where things like that mattered, but he was naturally tidy, anyway). 

We finished by putting the top sheet and the rest of the bedding on, Peter checking again that everything was centred properly. Then I remembered a bag I had left downstairs with a hairbrush and slippers and asked him to fetch it, while I finished the tucking. 

I had seen little of the town on the only previous visit I had made, when my mother and I  had come to view the apartment, so we went for a walk.

The old part of the town was approached by a very narrow street. Lime washed cottages, which had been the homes of fishermen during the nineteenth century, overlooked the quay and there was a steep bank nearby, covered with wild purple rhododendron.  I could have lingered, but the breeze was cool, so we headed back up the hill.

Once  home, I put the kettle on for a cup of tea. Peter drew the living room curtains and found they were too narrow to meet in the middle but, fortunately, a large safety pin on the window sill  solved the problem. 

'I hope the bedroom curtains are alright',  said Peter, opening the biscuits. (Did I mention he's a pessimist?)

'We 'll put a sheet over the curtain rail if we need to', was my response.

Nine o'clock came, our appointed bedtime. We tiptoed upstairs very quietly and closed the bedroom door behind us. I was beginning to feel a bit like a fugitive.

Peter drew the curtains, checking there were no gaps, because any chinks of light would  mean he'd be unable to sleep. (I was learning new things about him all the time). He checked  his watch and wound the clock. At last we were in bed and as soon as we got in,  Peter pushed his foot down to the bottom of the mattress and ran it back and fore.

'What are you doing that for?' I asked.

'Just checking everything is tucked in properly otherwise I'll have to get up in the night to put it right'.

What makes a lasting partnership? I've absolutely no idea.

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Kitchen lore


By Gillian Morgan, 2014-05-12

On one side of our new home was a baker's and on the other a grocer's. After arriving at the apartment there was still enough time to go out and buy a few basics to last us the weekend.

We had jam buns and cheese for tea and I was still wearing my going-away outfit, a navy jersey two piece with very high stiletto heels. I had taken the little white hat off before shopping and now, after eating, I was relieved to pull my shoes off.

I didn't think I was hungry until I sat down to eat and we didn't rush the meal, going over the events of the day. (I have noticed that the longer I sit at a table, the more I eat).

After a while we made our way to the kitchen to wash the dishes.  (Peter had already decided that the earliest time we could go to bed that wouldn't look too hasty was nine o'clock.  This was because the landlady's mother, who was in her eighties and lived in the other half of the house, would notice and tell her daughter if we went too soon).  So, it was  chores for us until nine o'clock. 

The area designated as the kitchen qualified as a kitchen because it had a 1930's gas cooker, a cream painted  larder lined with faded blue paper and a sink and draining board. All the modern housewife could possibly need! It was teeny-tiny and to close the door we both had to squeeze up to the sink, so we didn't bother.

The division of labour was decided when I said I'd wash and Peter could wipe.  The task did not take long and as I tipped the pan of soapy water down the drain I heard Peter say, 'Can I tell you something?'

I was still in happy-bride mode and turned to look at him excitedly, wondering what wonderful thing he was going to tell me.

'Wipe the draining board when you've finished.'    

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A lovely, lovely town.


By Gillian Morgan, 2014-05-12

St Michael's, Cas Llwchwr, is an old church overlooking the River Loughor and standing close to the castle. Small white washed cottages surrounded it and not far away was the Trocadero Café, where a friend and I sometimes went for coffee in the evenings and to play the juke box. 

Today, the door of the church was left open for those standing in the porch to listen to the service.  I was pleased that the hymn Oh Perfect Love, which can be tricky if the congregation is not familiar with it, was sung with gusto.

After the wedding photographs outside the church, we went to the Stepney Hotel, Llanelli, for the reception. The tables were decorated with roses supplied by friends who were champion growers and, although it was late in the season, the pinks, peaches and creams of the flowers glowed against the white tablecloths and china. 

When the main meal was over, it was time to cut the cake.  A waiter arrived with an elaborate silver knife, almost as large as a ceremonial sword - (I do not elaborate).  The photographer positioned himself to take some (more) photographs. I gripped the knife, after managing to heft it into position, and Peter put his hand over mine. When the photographer had finished, I  looked for a place to put the knife down but Peter insisted on sticking the tip of the blade into the cake, asking how many slices we needed to cut, not realising it would be done for us. 

There was little time to fuss with the cake, though. We were married at ten o'clock in the morning and our train was leaving at 1.30, so we changed quickly and left for our new home, a rented apartment.  

Half an hour into the journey there was a six minute scheduled stop in Carmarthen and Peter dashed out and bought me a copy of Good Housekeeping magazine.  I would have preferred She magazine, because of the fashion and beauty in it, but I had always liked cookery and might even have become a cookery teacher if a Chemistry qualification had not been necessary.

It was about three o'clock when we arrived at our destination and the end of the line. We made our way up the hill, the gorse and the Irish Sea gleaming in the sunlight and arrived at  the lovely, lovely town that was to be our home for the next eleven years and the place where I was to experience terrible loneliness.    

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One Fine Day


By Gillian Morgan, 2014-05-12

I'm fond of diaries. I've read quite a few;  published diaries, not private ones, I mean.  Apart from Pepys who, like all like all good diarists is wonderfully indiscreet, I have raced through The Red Leather Diary (don't let the fact that it is written by a teenager in the 1920's deter you), Our Hidden Lives (wartime accounts by ordinary people) and many others.

I am not a daily diarist though I have four diaries for this year, one with appointments, one with book titles and the name of blog posts and the other two with random jottings.    Peter is a very reliable diarist and he has a set of diaries going back thirty years, recording the date when the Road Tax is due and how much he paid the plumber and that sort of thing. If one of our daughters wants to know when she last went somewhere or other, even if it was years ago, he can look it up. He deals only in facts, not revealing any thoughts he may have.

Now I mention this difference between us only to demonstrate how unalike we are. Yet we have been married fifty five years.

Picture this: October 3rd 1959. According to the calendar it is autumn yet the early morning grass is dewdrop green and the sky a scrubbed blue hue. A day, bright and warm as high summer, will follow.

I  wear a white satin gown fastened with twenty covered buttons down the back; the buttons and loops have taken the  seam-stress hours to make but the dress fits beautifully. Three scented gardenias form the headdress, held in place  by a short veil. A prayer book, decorated with swirling ribbons and a single gardenia serves instead of a bouquet. Together with a blue leg garter, white very high heels and mother-pearl ear-rings, I am ready for Church.

 Outside, two neighbours throw rice over me and I thank them, feeling slightly embarrassed, as it is an unexpected gesture.  As I step into the limousine I think of Peter, waiting for me in his morning suit.

On the short drive to church I notice groups of women hurrying along, and wonder where they are going. The car almost stops when it reaches the narrow lane leading to the  church because it is crammed with well-wishers, who have come to watch our wedding.

The rector, fully robed, hurries to meet me, saying  the church is full, packed with all my friends. At that moment, I realise the interest shown in me is because I am sixteen and about to get married.   

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Only words


By Gillian Morgan, 2014-05-11

When we first married, Peter had no  time for novels. His favourite books were on the subject of  Bomber Command and the part it played in World War 11.  Other 'specialist subjects' included the internal combustion engine, diesel engines and the circulation of the blood. Like Mr Gradgrind in Hard Times, facts were the thing,  not made-up stories.

(Professional quizzers, apparently, memorise  the titles and the authors of books, but have little idea of the subject matter. Emma Bovary is reduced to being no more than a bored wife, rather than Flaubert's masterpiece and the novel Moby Dick can be explained as a man  obsessed with killing a whale.)  

The art of the writer is to entertain and there is no reason to feel guilty about reading for pleasure.  When Peter discovered P. G. Woodhouse, One Moonlit Night and Scott Fitzgerald the literary landscape changed for him. 

Although I'm always reading something, my range is fairly narrow. Two books I have failed to read are  Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov and Tolkien's The  Hobbit, but  thousands of others have enjoyed them (and there are thousands of other books I would find unreadable).

During the first year of my marriage  I spent  many hours in the local library.  We lived in a very small, remote town in West Wales. Imagine a place that has a train service,  surprisingly, but no passenger trains on a Sunday. If you need safety pins the only place to buy them is in  the chemist's shop.  People come to this town to retire, open sweet shops, go for walks. Ambitious young people have all long fled.

We started our married life in this town. I had hoped, before arriving, to find a job here. Little did I know that there were virtually no jobs to be had.  It took me a year to find employment.  Consequently, I sat down and read and read. 

If you have a story to tell you should write, but don't write just because you want to tell a story. Not my words.  I shall blog tomorrow and I'm not sure if it's because I want to write or if it's because I have a tale. 

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Think Big or Go Home


By Gillian Morgan, 2014-05-10

I've been busy these last few months with various projects but I have missed blogging and shall make time, from now on, to jot down the whirligig of thoughts that enter my brain. 

 A college prospectus says the ability to keep to a topic is the sign of an educated mind.  I understand the point but for me, one idea sparks a myriad others, creating numerous possibilities and a state of complete indecision.

As a writer, I do a lot of churning;  I'm not sure if I could be hanged for my thoughts, but I would prefer to keep them private. Many employees who take part in those hideous staff-training days which involve  'bombing ideas', would, too.

This is where employees  'share' their ideas (sorry, their jargon, not mine), thus enabling the group leader to trash most of them, (I don't mean the staff, thankfully).  In the gritty remains at the bottom of the pot, they will pan for gold (fools gold).

This exercise has gone on for years but was declared completely pointless by a psychologist last week. Can't say I'm surprised, but here's an interesting point:

President Obama has a female employee whose task it is to think about possibilities and difficulties that might arise in any given situation.  Before you act, think of what might go wrong. Good thinking.

Ideas do not exist in a vacuum, though. They usually come from somewhere, like films, people we know, or books.

 President Hollande does not read books, according to Thomas Picketty, author  of Capital in the Twenty-First Century. I expect the President is too busy with matters of State but, like Paul Valery, the French poet who admitted to not having read Proust, he might save time by leafing through a critique. 

I have spent (squandered?) a lifetime squirrelling my way through books and will reveal more in my next blog. Happy reading!

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Carreg Lafar new album


By Carreg Lafar, 2014-05-08

Be part of the new Carreg Lafar album by helping us to record a CD in Autumn 2014, with a release in 2015 to mark our 20th anniversary!

We've just launched a Kickstarter project to help us raise funds for recording a new album this year. Any contributions will be a huge help to get us into the studio, record, mix, mastering, design work, new photographs and distribution. Please help to realise our dream, you can make a range of donations and everyone will receive a reward for your support and generosity of spirit.

Diolch o galon am eich holl gefnogaeth - a heartfelt thanks for all your support x
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1701939068/carreg-lafars-new-album


 

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Back to Welsh Literature page >


Star Supply Stores Garnant

AmeriCymru spoke to Steve Adams. Steve is a journalist currently researching the unsolved 1921 murder of shopkeeper Thomas Thomas at Star Stores in the Carmarthenshire village of Garnant.

Follow his progress on his blog:-

Murder At The Star

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AmeriCymru: Hi Steve and diolch for agreeing to this interview. When did you first become interested in the murder of Thomas Thomas?

Steve: As chief reporter of the South Wales Guardian, the Ammanford-based weekly newspaper, I’m always on the look-out for stories with an Amman Valley link, particularly those which allow me to explore two of my other great interests – Welsh history and historic crime. So, when in the spring of 2013 I came across the essay A Long Time between Murders by the globally-renowned international affairs expert Owen Harries, my heart skipped a beat.

Mr Harries was born in the Amman valley in the early 1930s and his 2001 essay compared life in Washington DC – where he was then living and where a dozen murders in a weekend was not uncommon – to his childhood in rural Wales. In his home village of Garnant the unsolved 1921 murder of a shopkeeper remained the only major crime for more than 70 years until the owner of a local restaurant discovered his wife had taken a fancy to more than just the new chef’s fruity desserts. However, it was the murder of the half-deaf bible-quoting shopkeeper that kept returning to my mind, not least because although the case remained officially unsolved, the valley rumour mill had long since been pointing the finger.

The more I looked into the killing of Thomas Thomas at the Star Stores, the more engrossed I became. The more details I uncovered, the more the story read like an Agatha Christie novel – and by a strange quirk of fate, the murder at the Star was actually committed just 23 days after the UK release of Christie’s first book. The killing of Thomas Thomas had all the ingredients of a great Whodunnit?

A shopkeeper killed in a locked shop; three separate wounds all of which was enough to prove fatal; a lump of cheese used as a gag; Scotland Yard detectives; the takings stolen; and a host of characters and suspects lifted straight from the pages of a Dickens novel. And while the tale of the murder was in itself a great albeit unknown story, I could also see there was something far larger bubbling away in the background. It seemed to me that the murder at the Star also told the story of south Wales and its transformation from rural society to industrial boom, and then the inevitable, painful decline.

AmeriCymru: Care to describe the Amman valley for the benefit of our readers? What kind of community was it at the time the crime was committed?

Steve: One of the most intriguing aspects of the murder at Star Stores was how – to my mind at least - it symbolised the changing nature of south Wales from the middle of the 19th century to the years immediately after the Great War. In less than a single lifetime, the valley, which at the time Victoria came to the throne was known as Cwmaman and was nothing more than a scattering of farmsteads, exploded into life.

Commerce Place

Commerce Place Garnant



The discovery of coal saw the birth of a hamlet which in turn grew so quickly that it soon swelled and split into two separate villages, Garnant and Glanaman. Between them they boasted two train stations, numerous mines, factories, tin-plate works, and scores of shops, including national chains such as the Star. Glanaman had a dedicated sheet-music shop, while Garnant offered at least three hat shops. There were stationery shops, banks, hairdressers, pubs, greengrocers, cabinet makers and confectioners – all desperate to relieve the miners of their weekly wage.

In little more than 50 years, the area went from a population which barely reached three figures to being home to around 20,000 people. Such was the relentless growth of the villages that demand for lodgings far outstripped supply and Thomas Thomas rented not a room, nor even a bed, but a share of a bed. The war years were undoubtedly a boom time for mining communities as the thirst for coal to fuel the war effort became unquenchable and people came from far and wide to share the wealth.

The demand for workers grew and grew, but by the early 1920s things had begun to change. As the demand for coal begin to fall so the wealth that fed the boom of Garnant and Glanaman faltered and its disappearance marked the arrival of something new – crime. In the case of Thomas Thomas, it culminated in the worst of crimes – murder.

AmeriCymru: The murder went unsolved at the time but the locals had a theory concerning the identity of the culprit. Care to tell us more?

Steve: Within days of the crime being committed a number of names began circulating around the village – and further along the valley – as likely suspects, each with the means, the motive and the opportunity to kill.

Some thought the killer was Thomas Thomas’ landlord, asking why he had not raised the alarm when his lodger failed to return home that night; some believed it was the property developer who had built the store on land leased from Baron Dynevor, the local landowner – a costly 20-year legal dispute culminated in a High Court appearance and all but bankrupted the Garnant man who was left desperately short of cash and with bills to pay; others believed it was the local ne’er-do-well, a man who served time behind bars in his youth and who had lost his hand just six months prior to the murder in a suspicious explosion for which he offered police only the most bizarre of explanations.

There were also rumours of illicit love affairs, jealousy and vengeance. Local suspicion reached fever-pitch until the day of Thomas Thomas’ funeral when the dead man’s brother was approached by a mysterious stranger who put a name to the killer.

The informant has never been identified, but the name he gave remains in the village consciousness to this day as the man who killed Thomas Thomas. In fact, I was contacted by a lady in her 80s less than a month ago and told in no uncertain terms that the man named at the funeral was indeed the killer. The rumour and gossip has become more entrenched with each passing decade.

AmeriCymru: I know from our previous discussions that you have your own theory, indeed perhaps more than a theory about the perpetrators identity. Can you tell us more without giving too much away?

Star Stores safe Steve: I have been fortunate enough to get my hands on all the remaining paperwork compiled in relation to the case in the weeks following the murder. After examining the Scotland Yard files, the witness statements, photographs of the crime scene and pictures taken as part of the post-mortem, I absolutely sure of is I know who really killed Thomas Thomas on that February night in 1921 – and it was certainly not the man the lady who telephoned me at the beginning of March believed it was.

In many respects, the investigation into the murder at the Star became less a question of who the evidence pointed to and more who it eliminated as a suspect. Sherlock Holmes’ famous adage that “when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth” became the basis for the entire investigation. In Holmes’ cases, the logic worked perfectly well because the great fictional detective never missed or misunderstood a clue. Sadly, real life is never so clear cut.

Vital evidence was misinterpreted during the days of the investigation at the Star, clouding the entire inquiry and causing the police to eliminate the real killer. Having been able to reassess the evidence and show what I have collected to modern-day experts in their field, I am confident I can prove that not only were the police wrong to remove one of the suspects from their inquiry when they did, but rather than eliminate him, the evidence proves he was only man in Garnant capable of committing the murder in the manner that he did.

AmeriCymru: You are publishing a book about the case soon. When will it be available for purchase online?

Steve: I am in the process of writing a book on the case and I am currently in discussions with a publisher to secure a book deal. I’d rather not go into the specifics just yet, but I’m optimistic we will be able to thrash out a deal in the coming weeks.

The book will of course be available from all the usual online outlets and as an e-book, although I am still some way away from completing the finished product. In the meantime I am continuing to write a blog on the case, which can be found on Americymru.net and at www.murderatthestar.wordpress.com where readers are able to follow the progress of the book in rough draft form. In fact, it is due to the numbers of people who have been reading the blog and contacting me through social media that I contacted the publishing company when I did.

What began as something of a pet project and a labour of love quickly gathered a substantial following and I have been overwhelmed by the interest – from Amman valley residents, those who were born in the area but have since moved away and readers simply interested in a cracking yarn.

AmeriCymru: Any final message for the readers and members of AmeriCymru?

Steve: I would just like to thank everyone on Americymru who has read the blog – either on the Americymru site or via the Murder at the Star blog. I never really imagined the murder at the Star would be of any interest to anyone apart from me – how wrong I was. It is only due to the support and encouragement of the readers that I continued digging away until I reached the point when I became confident enough to say I have solved the murder at the Star.




AmeriCymru spoke to Welsh legend Max Boyce - " I have another big concert tour starting in October until December following a very successful TV programme celebrating my 70th Birthday which was actually had the highest viewing ratings that year! I am also in the process of writing my autobiography for publication when I finally finish it! "

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AmeriCymru:  Hi Max and many thanks for agreeing to be interviewed by AmeriCymru. I read in a previous interview that you have "always loved folk music and poetry". Are there any particular musicians or poets who influenced or inspired you?

Max: I would probably say Bob Dylan, Woody Guthrie & Ewan MacColl.

AmeriCymru:   You worked as a coal miner in the 1960's. How and to what extent did this influence your music?

Max: I did indeed and this influenced my music massively.  To write accurately about your subject matter you have to experience it personally. For me, it was that special camaraderie and sharing the same dangers that really enabled me to write my songs with first-hand experience and which ultimately has given my songs their poignancy. All great works, whether they be paintings or songs are at their best when created from personal experience.

AmeriCymru:  What can you tell us about the night your Live in Treorchy album ( 1974 ) was recorded?

Max: Well it was put together very hastily so not foreseen at all! Initially I was selling my tickets for 50p just to get an audience for my show as I needed them for my chorus songs!  I was in fact giving them away and think people only came to see me out of sympathy!  It was the audience’s spontaneous reactions that made this album the success that it was. I made a conscious decision to choose a place where I had never been before so I got a fresh reaction and it went fantastically well!



Max Boyce Live At Treorchy



AmeriCymru:  How did it feel to go straight to number 1. in the charts with your second album 'We All Had Doctors Papers'?

Max: Unbelievable! I still find it strange when I think back. Wherever I was in the country I would always buy a copy of The Melody Maker and The New Music Express just to see if I was still up there!  I remember seeing my name on the list ABOVE Rod Stewart and The Beatles! Totally amazing.

AmeriCymru:  Did you ever think that your song 'Hymns And Arias' would become anthemic? How did that song come to be written?

Max: No I didn’t. No-one could foresee that. It became a song of the people which just cannot be manufactured.  Funnily enough the Irish and Scottish anthemic folk songs ‘Fields of Anthenry’ and ‘Flower of Scotland’ were actually written at a very similar time to when I wrote ‘Hymns and Arias’. I had just been to Twickenham and was writing topical songs. So I basically wrote about my memories  of the whole trip and probably did it in about 2 hours!  I wish I could change a line or two today but obviously cannot!

AmeriCymru:  You have performed all over the world. What was your most memorable performance and why?

Max: Probably Wembley before the Wales vs England game. It was a home game and should have been in Cardiff but they were building the stadium for the World Cup. Such an iconic venue with 80,000 people singing along..wonderful.

AmeriCymru:  You toured Australia in 2003 during the rugby World Cup. Any memories you would like to share?

Max: Performing at Sydney Opera House was tremendous and I had Katherine Jenkins as my guest. She performed one song and then was very quickly signed up after that!


Hymns and Arias



AmeriCymru:  You have visited and performed in the States in the past. How did you enjoy your time in the US?

Max: I absolutely loved it and I loved the different culture.  Also what a privilege afforded to very few, if any, to play for 2.5 months with The Dallas Cowboys. To be picked by Coach Landry to play offence in the first game in the Texas Stadium against the Green Bay Packers is something I will never ever forget.  Following on from the success of that, I was then also asked to ride bulls in the rodeo and again, was very touched by the similar camaraderie that they had, as we did in coal mining, in sharing the same dangers.  Bull riding is America’s truest sport I think and an experience that I will treasure always.

AmeriCymru:  What's next for Max Boyce? Tours? Recordings?

Max: I have another big concert tour starting in October until December following a very successful TV programme celebrating my 70th Birthday which was actually had the highest viewing ratings that year! I am also in the process of writing my autobiography for publication when I finally finish it!

AmeriCymru:  Any final message for the readers and members of AmeriCymru? 

Max: Please carry on with the missionary work and come back and see us soon – we miss you!

 

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Happy Easter - A reflection from Swansea


By Lindsay Halton, 2014-04-20

The dreams of yesterday are the eyes of tomorrow.

Taking a simplistic view I will say that the city of tomorrow is shaped by the children of today, and today’s children are shaped by the adults. So all of us are the architects of our future.

Dylan Thomas saw the Ugly and the lovely in Swansea town long before it was bombed in WW2.  Through little boy’s eyes , he looked out through bedroom windows and saw the ugly on one side and the lovely on the other.

We continue to share the ugly and the lovely view – in fact we are all just that – both ugly and lovely – We are complex.

When I ask people to look out their windows, and what do they see? I am asking for a perspective on life. Two people might see different things, and what they say, reveals as much about them as about what is out there.

Swansea City centre was shaped by the Second World War – it was bombed during the Blitz, by the Luftwaffe under the command of Adolf Hitler.

Hitler as a child was obsessed with ‘Parsifal’ – the blameless fool, the champion of the Holy Grail, and the healer of the wounded King. And as the leader of the Third Reich the image of Parsifal and the image of the Fuhrer became enmeshed.

The children of today walk down Swansea Kingsway, rebuilt after the war – Were it not for Hitler their feet would be treading on different ground and their eyes would perceive different sites.

The psychologist Karl Jung wrote about many complexes; he believed it perfectly normal to have ‘complexes’, because everyone has emotional experiences that affect the psyche. These experiences can bring comfort, and they also bring pain: Hitler’s father was brutal to him, and like Parsifal, he lost his father at an early age, Jung reacted to his father’s views, and Dylan Thomas longed for his father’s approval.

The experiences of these men as children shaped their later work; they shaped the world as we know it.

It is our views that shape the world; the planners and the politicians make decisions about our cities, but what were they thinking long before they rose to those positions? And what will our children think when they take their place?

So when you look out of your window, what do you see? Is it ugly or is it lovely? The way you see the world is the way it is – change your view, then your experience will change too.

Apparently the Opera ‘Parsifal’ by Wagner was conceived on a Good-Friday.

On Easter Sunday children all over Wales will be searching for Easter Eggs. The eggs are a symbol or a promise of ‘new birth’, the festival became a Christian one; celebrating the resurrection of Christ, but its origin was pagan; coming from Germany and the Goddess ‘Eostra’, the goddess of renewal and fertility, her symbol was the Hare.

So why not take a look out of a window over the holiday, and  consider your view?

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