Ieuan franklin
Fieldwork, Poetry & Ethnography
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4.1 Fieldwork, Poetry & EthnographyThe three islands of Aran of the Western seaboard of Ireland which this radio feature portrays have long held a romantic fascination for those people interested in the continued existence of (an) ‘uncorrupted’ peasant culture, centred on the struggle to eke a living amongst beautiful but barren surroundings. The mythology of Aran was strengthened by the writings of Yeats and Synges, and hugely expanded in 1934 by the release of Man of Aran, Robert Flaherty’s seminal (film) documentary on the life of the island people (Rodgers went on to make a radio portrait – see Chapter 2 - of Flaherty, broadcast on the BBC Third Programme on September 2nd, 1952). Rodgers’ radio feature can be seen as a continuation of the tendency to foster the romantic image of Aran, a tendency which was founded in nineteenth century antiquarianism, and which is still clearly evident in the present marketing of Aran as a rural idyll by the seasonal tourist industry (see Ni Chonghaile in progress). Bare Stones of Aran is remarkable for its seamless blend of narration, quotation, actuality, ambience and folk-song, predating the aesthetic of the Radio Ballads, the seminal series of BBC radio programmes (1958-1964), which we will discuss later in the chapter. For example, a section that portrays the difficulties in ‘living off the land’ on rough and arid land features an indigenous folk song whose refrain states; “you can never plough the rocks of Aran” (Rodgers 1950). The programme also features pithy local colloquialisms, such as “There isn’t enough water in the place to drown a man, enough wood to hang him, or enough soil to bury him”; “They do say that land is so scarce around here that when an Aran man dies he is buried standing up….” (Rodgers 1950). Some of the most intriguing moments in the programme are actuality extracts in which islanders relay stories, any one of which could have formed the basis of an entire radio programme. For example, a man tells the story of another man who had killed his father by accident, and was aided by another islander who took him in and exchanged clothes with him when the ‘Peelers’ (police) arrived. Another man, Pat Mullen, who had been Flaherty’s ‘contact’ for Man of Aran, speaks of how islanders had once obtained oil for lighting lamps from the livers of sharks harpooned out at sea. This radio feature can be contrasted with the Radio Ballads through its use of narration, which simulates the first person, present-tense perspective of travel writing and ethnography. The narration often reports directly on events ‘in real time’ which are heard through actuality recordings, such as when Rodgers describes arriving at the island and we hear the sea lapping against a coracle (“the only boats that can live on these unfriendly coasts”) and the creaking of the oars, peaceful noises as contrasted with the sounds of men struggling to transfer cattle into boats by hand, using lengths of rope and brute force: ‘Dia dhuit’ – God to you - we greet our host as we land…on the sunlit strand we watch the women and girls gathered apart in groups. How shy they are, and how they seem to melt like shadows at a stranger’s approach. They look like graceful Victorians, with their lovely crimson blouses and long petticoats and gay woven shawls. The men in grey and indigo vests are urging the despairing beasts into the sea (Rodgers 1950). Through the programme’s assimilation of poetic ‘reportage’, ambience and actuality we gain the sense of Rodgers’ responses to sensory experiences - and his deepening understanding of the islanders. It is as if we are hearing Rodgers’ read from his field notes, as the listener gains a ‘window’ onto the twin creative processes of composing poetry and ethnography: They have ceremonies because no people can live so closely and face such baseness and hardship without exulting in the dignity of man. Here the sea is a halter around the neck of men’s lives, lifting them into suddenly high moments of despair or emergency, and the land is a stone about their feet. How else could they keep level and live calmly then, but through custom and ceremony? (Rodgers, ibid). A contemporary ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) radio feature called The Oyster Farmers (broadcast 15th December 2007) utilizes a similar yet more impressionistic technique, blending oral history and poetry with evocative sound recordings, including the lapping of water on the underside of shallow skiffs, and the piercing metal-on-shell clink of a man grading oysters according to variations in sound. The poetry provides vivid imagery (visual and acoustic) which help the listener to understand the work processes: On the right tide they ride out into the light, in their pumps, battered slabs of aluminium with 100 horse Yamahas on the stern…/…If there’s an extra good tide out in the night at the moon, I’d go and work in the night…/…Back at the bunker, the hessian sacks are packed, ready, and the shells grow into sliding white foothills (Davies 2007). The use of the first-person perspective in Bare Stones of Aran allows Rodgers to relay his attempts to get an insider’s view of island life, for example when he and his BBC colleague stop to listen at a cottage they are walking past. We hear the sound of people praying in Gaelic, whilst Rodgers describes the scene – “the fire has been raked and the inhabitants are at prayer…I think to myself: ‘though other people have the goods, these people have the Gods’” (Rodgers 1950). The next evening Rodgers and colleague gather with some islanders in a rambling house, and we hear the tale’s introductory formula: There was a King, long ago. And a long time ago it was – if I were there, then I wouldn’t be there now. I would have a new story, or an old story, or maybe I wouldn’t have any story (ibid). Rodgers also spent time collecting traditional music in Aran, and in his activities as a collector can be discerned a high regard for the orality of the music, which he prized as an indicator of its authenticity (Ni Chonghaile 2009; Ni Chonghaile in progress). Rodgers was concerned with the deleterious effect of modern mass communications on the traditions and customs of a tight-knit oral culture (a topic we discussed in Chapter 3.0). The dilemma he may have felt was one also experienced by others who have recorded, preserved and promoted traditional music, such as Tony Engle, longtime Managing Director of Topic Records: The singers I really loved, when they were performing in their heyday, records had hardly been invented. The music existed to serve the community. In a way, recording almost undermines certain aspects of the music. It’s a strange contradiction that exists within it (Engle, quoted in Petridis 2009). However, in the programme Rodgers acknowledges that storytelling is still practised as an art and a social event, and that this in not incompatible with the use of ‘new media’ - radio is listened to in groups, and new gramophone records sent in from Boston provide the occasion for dancing. However, Rodgers also documented the fact that the islanders find the flow of radio broadcasting too unpredictable – perhaps it lacked the thematic continuity and structural ingenuity of storytelling: These storytellers are the vanishing remnant, the living libraries, of a Europe which had no books once, no written word, no cinema. A Europe whose only night’s entertainment was a winter night’s tale told by a passing traveller… The printed page has taken away men’s memories and the radio their voices. They argue over whether the gramophone or radio is the greatest invention. They decide that it is the gramophone, because it can give you the voice of a dead man, whereas the radio can only give you the voice of a living man. The wireless box makes them uneasy because it is unpredictable. They prefer to hear a particular tune…. (Rodgers 1950) Download 1.05 Mb. Share with your friends:
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