[Mark McDonnell]

Richard and Matt,

Thanks both for coming back with more detailed crits, questions and suggestions. Lots of good food for thought, some of which has led to a few more changes (and a few changes entirely of my own whims). Of course, there’s something in the folk ballad that particularly lends itself to malleability. I already feel like this isn’t mine anymore and would happily send it on its way for people to change as they see fit.

Richard – I'm glad it's working better now, and thanks for the detailed crit. I’ll address the points where I have either made some change based on your idea or where I feel the need to defend my choice!

I’ve added an extra stanza to reinforce the depth of the shepherd’s feelings for Nell. I don’t know if this makes him less of a “blank slate”. I suppose he is. He’s just a lovelorn figure to set the legend in motion.

It drifts down from a line of trees
Stark black against the sky

(if the trees are black and the night is moonless how does this 'against' work? Also, are there actually any trees on Winter Hill now?)

Even on a moonless night there would be the light pollution from towns creating a not-entirely-black backdrop for trees to be silhouetted against. And yes, there are some trees on Winter Hill, on the lower slopes.

Trees/breeze as a predictable rhyme: Well, I think you would be hard pressed to find a folk ballad without such rhymes. It’s part of the package.

I think “strange” is justified because the tale begins and ends with a ghostly dog!

I think you’re right about “childhood days”. Changed.

so soon after 'pledging' her heart to another? It makes her look shallow.

The time period between the shepherd’s relationship with Nell and the rich man’s son isn’t specified but I think it’s implied that it was a fair bit earlier.

In this stanza

Then in a hayloft, wet with sweat
He showed her his true face
And before the sun began to set
He'd took her in disgrace.

You say you’re “confused by the order of things ('wet with sweat' suggests exertion but 'took her' comes later.)” In my sense of it, although the phrase might come three lines later everything in the stanza in kind of happening all at once: he’s wet with sweat, he’s showing his true face and he’s “taking” her.

As for the ending, I disagree. After all this human drama, we realise at the end that the sheepdog which has been on the periphery of things has his own, entirely separate concerns. I find it quite touching that the sheep are mentioned for the first time here. Having said that, in the extra stanza I realise I have the shepherd asleep outside the fold, so perhaps I unconsciously took your point to heart.

Thanks again for giving this so much thought.

Hi Matt – Ha. It hadn’t occurred to me to think that night and evening were different times. I’ve changed that line.

I’m OK with the “drifts down” line. The trochee gives a slow, drifting feel for me. I don’t think I want a “bounce” there.

I think I’m also sticking with “fell ‘cross her face”. “Veiled” or “hid” give the sense that her face is permanently obscured, which is what I wanted to avoid when I changed it from “covered” initially.

Yes, I changed the “For once they laughed upon the cart” line. Thanks.

As for “He'd took her in disgrace”, I quite like the strangeness of the construction there. And the suggestion that the disgrace is also his. By raping her he has disgraced himself (whether he would acknowledge that or not). I like your play on the sunset, but I think I want to keep the harshness of “took”.

Thanks for spotting the repeat of “inside”, which I hadn’t noticed. I’ve make a change there.

With the time scale, I had 5 months in the first version but changed it on Julie’s suggestion that perhaps rather than dying in childbirth it could have been a botched abortion. I’ve changed it back to 5 months. So she starts to “show” at about 4 months, hides indoors, he guesses why and hangs around for the next 5 months.

Phew. Thanks for the good luck, Matt, and for the detailed crit as always. I’ll let you know what happens.

Hi Michael! Lancashire is in northern England, yes. Stan Laurel was born there! And it’s Lancastrians, please! (not Lancasherians)

Haha. It may be a little long (and it’s grown slightly since your comment). It’s a very, very small local festival. Evie (my niece) will probably know most of the people there and I’m sure they’ll be forgiving. I’m very pleased you like it and thought it charming. Cheers.

Thanks for coming back, Yves, that’s good to know.

Thanks very much, Roger!!

Cheers, Jan! I’d love to think this would be performed in years to come in Brinscall. I have no thoughts of trying to publish it, it’s theirs now if they want it, to change as they see fit. I think it will go down well. I’m surprised there isn’t a poem about that local legend already but I couldn’t find one!


Hi David!

Haha. Benny Hill. Jesus…that brings back slightly depressing memories.

You are, of course, right that the more authentic way would be lines 2 and 4 only doing the rhyming. I think I just started and ran with it before I’d given much thought to authenticity. Maybe one day, I’ll have a go at that version.

And yes, it is that Winter Hill, home of the massive transmission tower. Just outside my old home town of Chorley. The plane was coming from the Isle of Man, wasn’t it?

Thanks Alex, I’m glad you like it. I think I’m OK with the length. I’m happy that it rambles a little. I think I’ll keep “She’d”; there’s something folky about it.

The repetition of “promised perfumes sent from France” was deliberate to highlight the contrast between the way those two stanzas end, from hope to abuse and abandonment.

Thanks again, all.

I’ve made a few more changes, highlighted under the revision, including a new stanza.

[Richard G]

Hi Mark,
S14 is a good addition, but the poem feels a little too long now.

You might (re)consider cutting the first three verses, they set this up as a ghost story (and it's more a simple tragedy with a ghostly coda) and you'd lose the pantomime 'boys and girls' (how comfortable is a fifteen year old going to be saying that line?) Besides it's rather at odds with a tale of rape, death and suicide.

I'd have liked the refrain to do more work.

The 'eclipse' line is a bit of a metrical mouthful.

Any alternative to the repetition of 'hear' in the final two verses? And I think the 'Brin's call' line needs some work.


Just a thought for a shorter version.


Brinscall


It's long ago, and long ago
And longer than I can tell,
A shepherd lad once lost his heart
To a pretty milkmaid, Nell.

*

She'd pale white arms and ruby lips,
Her hair was a cloud of smoke
That fell 'cross her face like the moon's eclipse.
Her death a young heart broke.

For once they'd laughed upon the cart
With hay piled to the brim
And he had pledged his faithful heart
And she pledged hers to him.


*

But now those shining days were done
No more o' that springtime revel,
For Nell had met a rich man's son
Who was worse than the very devil.

He'd promised perfumes sent from France
And the finest satin dress.
In him, Nell spied her fleeting chance
At life and happiness.


*

Then, in a hayloft, wet with sweat
He'd shown her his true face
And before the sun began to set
He'd took her in disgrace.

He left without a backward glance
On horseback from the town.
No perfumes did he send to her
And not one satin gown,

*

In time a child within her grew
And she hid herself inside.
Then weeeping like the morning dew
Her mam said, "Nell has died."

And it's long ago, and long ago
And longer than I can tell,
The shepherd muttered in the snow
"I'm off to be with Nell".

*

And he walked the path to Winter Hill
And found himself a tree
And hanged himself in the bitter chill
Of pain and misery.

They say on wintry moonless nights
When no one is around,
Far from the twinkling village lights
You'll hear a mournful sound.

It's Brin the sheepdog that you hear.
For the sheep are roaming free.
He's calling for his master dear
It's Brin's call by that tree.




(I know, the morning dew line is pretty bad, but you get the idea.)

RG.

[Mark McDonnell]

Hi Richard,

Yes, I will think about the repetition of "hear" in the penultimate and final stanza. Good spot. They are close together and the repetition isn't serving much purpose. I might change "You'll hear that mournful sound" to "There comes a mournful sound". And I might come up with something better than "by that tree" in the Brin's call line.

I feel happy with the other places you mention, I think, as well as the length. It takes less than 4 minutes to read aloud slowly! And I definitely want to end with the sheep. My niece will be fine saying "girls and boys" to a happy bunch of cider quaffing folkies. She's a trooper.

I may keep tinkering with it for fun.

Thanks again for staying with this.

Mark

[Matt Q]

Hi Mark,

So now on moonless, winter nights
When no one is around,
Far from the twinkling village lights
There comes a mournful sound.

I'm not sure how well this works. It now seems to say that the mournful sound only comes when there's no one around to hear it -- rather like the proverbial tree falling unheard in the forest.

One way around the repetition of "hear" might be to use "near" in the first line of the last stanza.

And yes, "by that tree" isn't great. The last line is good, though, so it seems worth trying to keep "roaming free", but finding a useful rhyme-word seems challenging.

I guess, maybe:

[...]
You'll hear that mournful sound

It's Brin the sheepdog drawing near.
It's his shadow that you see. [He's the shadow that you see]
He's calling for his master dear
For the sheep are roaming free.

or

It's Brin the sheepdog drawing near
And howling mournfully.
He's calling for his master dear
For the sheep are roaming free.

Though the rhyme on "mournfully" isn't as strong, and you'd need to find a substitute for "mournful" in the previous S -- "doleful" maybe, or "haunting"?

Not saying either is great, but they might give you some ideas.

-Matt

[Joe Crocker]

The last line still bothers me, particularly “roaming free” which offers us an image of happy sheep wandering contentedly through the countryside. (chatting on their mobile phones maybe). Whereas from the sheepdog’s perspective this is a disaster, which he needs his master to help sort out. I think it would help if the final line was more clearly from Brin’s point of view. You might try

For the sheep are lost and free. (?)

[Mark McDonnell]

Hi Matt,

So now on moonless, winter nights
When no one is around,
Far from the twinkling village lights
There comes a mournful sound.

I'm not sure how well this works. It now seems to say that the mournful sound only comes when there's no one around to hear it -- rather like the proverbial tree falling unheard in the forest.

Well spotted. I’ve changed line 2 to “With no one else around”, as it is in the opening stanza.

I can’t really use these ideas…

It's Brin the sheepdog drawing near.
It's his shadow that you see. [He's the shadow that you see]
He's calling for his master dear
For the sheep are roaming free.

or

It's Brin the sheepdog drawing near
And howling mournfully.
He's calling for his master dear
For the sheep are roaming free.

…(even if I were looking for an alternative to “hear”) because I do need the phrase “Brin’s call” in the last stanza. It’s the Big Reveal at the end of the poem because the name of the village is Brinscall and the tale is an origin story of the name.

I think I’m going to stick with “It’s Brin’s call by that tree”. Although the line seems a bit nondescript on its own, in context (and with a bit of dramatic emphasis) I’m hoping it clearly refers the listener back to the tree mentioned 2 stanzas previously – the hanging tree.

To strengthen this effect, I’ve changed the line about the tree from “found himself a tree” to “found a crooked tree”
for a more memorable visual image.

Hope that all makes sense!

Hi Joe,

Agghh, sorry, I’m staying stubborn on the last line. At least, I haven’t heard or thought of anything I like better yet. To me, “the sheep are roaming free”, is from the dog’s point of view and it feels like something that would strike him as a problem that needs sorting. And I really like the line as an ending. Hard to say why haha.

Richard,

To come back to your previous post and your feeling that “girls and boys” sounds a bit pantomime, I’ve considered and think you may have a point. I’ve gone with “neighbours all”, which also allows me to rhyme with “call” and start dropping clues about the village name origin story idea.
I’ve also made a little more of the “long ago” refrain by repeating it as a new stanza 12 and italicising. I’d thought it would be nice to hear it again, too. It was just a case of deciding which point in the narrative to put it. The poem is a nice, round 20 stanzas now, which feels a good place to stop.

Thanks again for continuing to push me on this, everyone. My niece still only has the original version. She said “wow, that’s so cool!” Pain-free workshopping!

I'm close to happy with the poem now. I think.

[Matt Q]

Originally Posted by Mark McDonnell

I think I’m going to stick with “It’s Brin’s call by that tree”. Although the line seems a bit nondescript on its own, in context (and with a bit of dramatic emphasis) I’m hoping it clearly refers the listener back to the tree mentioned 2 stanzas previously – the hanging tree.

You're right, it does work -- and well -- with the hanging tree. I was looking at the stanza in isolation, and couldn't see the woods for the ...

Still, for me, there's maybe something a little odd about a call being located in one place, and this was also bugging me a bit about that line. After all, sound travels: the call is heard where the hearer is and it emanates from somewhere else. We might say it was coming from by the tree, or that we were by the tree when we heard it, but we're unlikely (I think) to say, "the call was by that tree".

I do agree with Joe that "the sheep are roaming free" has something of an uplifting feel to which it maybe a bit at odds with the mood.

Not sure if there's an easy fix though, assuming you agree the wording is a bit off. "It's Brin's call from that tree" maybe? Though then it might sound like it's the tree that's calling ...

Matt

[Yves S L]

Matt,

But surely folk know that trees do not call and the poem does not have a surrealistic context? That is to say, folk don't read sentences in isolation, and generate all possible interpretations and consider them all equally valid.

[Matt Q]

Yves,

It may not be surreal, but it is a ghost story. The dog's call could emanate from the tree its owner hung himself from.

Matt

[Richard G]

Hi Mark.

I’ve gone with “neighbours all”, which also allows me to rhyme with “call” and start dropping clues about the village name origin story idea.
I like 'neighbours all' but still think it would improve the piece if you cut verses 1 - 3, for me they give too much away. And you might revisit the title, if only for this performance; something innocuous like "Sheepdog Ballad/Local Ballad" could serve better.

You mention 'winter' in three of the last five verses.

You might consider swapping the order of verses 15 and 16, so

Then, one winter's morning, clear,
Nell's mother came outside.
"An awful thing," she said, "my dear
sweet Nell and babe have died".

At night he saw her long, black hair
While sleeping in the fold
And dreamed his Nell would still be there
When both of them grew old.

I think you need to address L3 in this verse

She'd pale white arms and ruby lips,
Her hair was a cloud of smoke
That fell 'cross her face like the moon's eclipse.
The lad's heart nearly broke.

if only for your reader's sake. How about
That hid her face like an eclipse
?

Similarly, L1 here is really awkward (what with its extra beat.)

Though he'd promised perfumes sent from France
And the finest satin gown,
He left without a backward glance
On horseback to the town.

And the verse might work better if you started with
He left without a backward glance / without a backward glance he left
On horseback to the town. / to revel in his sin
and then gave two lines to Nell's reaction.

As for the ending, just a nudge

So now on moonless, winter nights
With no one else around,
Far from the twinkling village lights
There comes a mournful sound

As if a thing might defy death
When darkest is the year,
A hound is howling on the heath
It's Brin's call that you hear.

It's long ago, and long ago
And longer than I can tell,
A shepherd lad once lost his heart
To a pretty milkmaid, Nell.

RG