“In the Soil and the Dirt and the Peat, We Find Life and Heaven and Hell” | Poems of R.S. Thomas

The chapel at Soar-y-Mynydd (photo from www.daibach-welldigger.blogspot.com"

The chapel at Soar-y-Mynydd (photo from http://www.daibach-welldigger.blogspot.com)

The Bible’s Hebrew poets stood in manure up to their necks, yet lifted their voices to praise God.

That rank image – slipped into a theological school seminar more than fifty years ago – popped into my mind when I reread what R. S. Thomas says about the chapel called Soar-y-Mynydd: “Here, in the soil and the dirt and the peat do we find life and heaven and hell.”  

Thomas had a vision at Soar-y-Mynydd, just as he had one at Maes-yr-Onnen, where he saw that God is a young God – see my blog for May 12th.

At Soar-y-Mynydd, Thomas saw “the soul of a special type of man, the Cymro or Welshman. For the very source of Welsh life as it is today is here in the middle of these remote moorlands. And it is in places of this sort that the soul of the true Welshman is formed.”

When Thomas first met this true Welshman, he had misgivings about his body as well as his soul. He was smelly: His clothes were “sour with years of sweat / And animal contact.” His manners were gross: When Thomas called of an evening, he sat “fixed in his chair, / Motionless, except when he leans to gob [spit] in the fire.” And as for his soul, it was “mortgaged to the grasping soil.”

In short, the true Welshman got up the nose of Thomas, this “little bourgeois,” as he calls himself, “well-bred, with the mark of the church and library upon me.” Eventually, however, Thomas came to see these “tough, materialistic, hard-working people” in a new light.

They embodied true Welshness, exemplifying a rooted physical life and an earthed spiritual life.

First, they had something that city Welsh, Anglicized Welsh, lacked – endurance. Take eighty-five-year-old Job Davies, who asks:

Miserable? Kick my arse!
It needs more than the rain’s hearse,
Wind-drawn, to pull me off
The great perch of my laugh.

“When the Welsh as a nation,” Thomas writes, “were bound to this kind of life, then their souls were strong and deep,” because they were rooted “in the soil and the dirt and the peat.” And “once a week” they “would travel from their hidden inaccessible homes, to worship and pray together” in such chapels as Soar-y-Mynydd.

The name means “Zoar on the Mountain.” Zoar was the little place of refuge to which Lot and his family fled when the big places, the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, were destroyed (Genesis 19:22-23).

By extension, Soar-y-Mynydd symbolizes for Thomas the little places remote from the mechanization of big-city life, where, in the words of Gerard Manley Hopkins, “There lives the dearest freshness deep down things.”

Second, in unindustrialized and untouristed Wales, everyday things, mountains and moors, can glow with the presence of God.

Today, Soar-y-Mynydd and other out-of-the-way Welsh chapels settle “a little deeper into the grass.”

But here once on an evening like this,
in the darkness that was about
his hearers, a preacher caught fire
and burned steadily before them
with a strange light, so that they saw
the splendour of the barren mountains
about them . . . .

Novelist Vladimir Nabokov saw another metaphor for what Thomas is picturing, for what my Hebrew professor was expressing: Nabokov remembers that he first understood irony when he saw butterflies on a piece of dung.

Nabokov also says that he came closest to ecstasy not when he finished a novel but when observing rare butterflies.

I think Thomas would have approved, if not used, my Hebrew professor’s image of poets magnifying God while immersed in manure and Nabokov’s sighting of butterflies alighting on dung. But Thomas himself came closest to ecstasy when walking on a moor, which was “like a church to” him:

I entered it on soft foot,
Breath held like a cap in the hand.
It was quiet.
What God was there made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In movement of wind over grass.

There is something romantic, of course, about Thomas’s vision of rooted Welshness and earthed spirituality. It is nostalgic, an attempt to Williamsburg-ize the Wales of old. It is political, part of Thomas’s protest again everything that the English had done to transform Wales into England. It is cultural, Thomas’s way of fighting the Machine, which is his synecdoche for the industrialized, technologized, and internetized world that is turning “All to noise.”

It also helps us understand why he loved the paintings of the Impressionists.

Prose and poetry by R. S. Thomas quoted in this blog:

“Here, in the soil and the dirt and the peat” – “Two Chapels,” R. S. Thomas: Selected Prose, 40.

“the soul of a special type of man” – “Two Chapels,” R. S. Thomas: Selected Prose, 38.

“sour with years of sweat” – “A Peasant,” The Stones of the Field, 14.

“fixed in his chair” – “A Peasant,” The Stones of the Field, 14.

“mortgaged to the grasping soil” – “The Minister,” Collected Poems 1945-1990, 42.

“little bourgeois” – “Former Paths,” R. S. Thomas: Autobiographies, 11.

“tough, materialistic, hard-working people” – “Former Paths,” R. S. Thomas: Autobiographies, 11.

“Miserable? Kick my arse!” – “Lore,” Tares, 35.

“When the Welsh as a nation” – “Two Chapels,” R. S. Thomas: Selected Prose, 40.

“once a week” – “Two Chapels,” R. S. Thomas: Selected Prose, 38.

“a little deeper into the grass” – “The Chapel,” Laboratories of the Spirit, 19.

“like a church” – “The Moor,” Pietà, 24.

“All to noise” – “The Face,” Pietà, 41.

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5 thoughts on ““In the Soil and the Dirt and the Peat, We Find Life and Heaven and Hell” | Poems of R.S. Thomas

    • The best overall selection (although it’s weak on RST’s earlier poetry) is: “R. S. Thomas: Selected Poems” (Penguin: Modern Classics, 2003). The least expensive is a slim volume edited by Anthony Thwaite in Dent’s Everyman Series, simply titled “R. S. Thomas.” The most complete selections are R. S. Thomas “Collected Poems 1945-1990” and R. S. Thomas, “Collected Later Poems 1988-2000.” All are available from amazon.co.uk at acceptable prices, but I don’t know the currency exchange rates and postage (when I order from amazon.co.uk, I get socked by those costs).

  1. I appreciate the “earthiness” – especially as I travel with elders from the Kiowa, Chicasaw, and Muskogee Nations in Oklahoma this week. Sacred Goundedness is something to consider when we speak of spiritual matters – Disembodied theology can make for interesting conversation but there comes a time when we all have to eventually take care of the bodily functions that are a part of this life. I truly believe that awareness of our body is integral to experiencing the Holy.

    • I’ve been thinking about you, wondering if you were in Oklahoma last week. RST found the peoples he called “Red Indians” fascinating: in fact, unless my memory is a sloppy servant, the only thing he wrote specifically about America is a review of “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.” I’d like to think that he would have found such areas as the Bad Lands and New Mexico appealing, even though he told me he had no desire to visit the States. He did like hot, barren Spain, so I think he would have found poetry in Native American areas.

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