Thoughts on The Forest of Dean & Gloucestershire
A few of our thoughts following our episode on the Forest of Dean...
Forest or "Vorest" dialect is one of very few regional British dialects that are almost undecipherable to the uninformed. It is a linguistic mutation that has sprung from a historically insular and strong mining community. Like many impoverished rural communities, centuries of illiteracy and isolation means that the language is intended to be spoken, not written. On the occasions where it is written its few guesswork rules often include swapping C for Z (ie. Zider) and V for F. That said, it doesn't quite work when unspoken since it lacks grammar and syntax and loses its iterative meanings... not to mention much of its charm.
Like many traditions, it now exists primarily as an artefact (mostly due to the decline in actual mining culture). It exists on the fringes between history and heritage, the fundamental difference being that one is an interesting factoid (like a rusty sign informing tourists that a village was famous 600 years ago for its weaving) and the other is still alive and kicking (even if its on the decline). The language no longer evolves, adapts or sees much primary use and is spoken mostly in the contexts of occasional phrases, poetry and celebrating heritage by the descendants of mining families. While its complete loss may eventually be inevitable, it needs to be recorded and preserved before it is lost forever. We cut out a long debate about whether it was right to cling to traditions long after they cease to meaningfully relate to people and places. For example, it doesn't make much sense to revive certain pagan traditions in the modern day because we now live in a different context. We have mixed feelings about when residents of communities like the Forest can claim to experience the same.
For American listeners - the general Gloucestershire accent often features a slight twang, from bordering the edges of agricultural region known as the West Country and being relatively near to places like Bristol, but is usually slightly harsher in its vowel sounds (possibly due to the proximity to South Wales). Despite our impressions, our affection for the accent is truly genuine since many of our family genuinely sound like it.
Though not the biggest in the UK by any means, the Forest of Dean has always played a part in historical events - from being a source of wood from Roman times to WW2, sourcing banquets for the King and being the site of rebellion. Many famous people have lived there and continue to… although there is some contention as to where the forest begins and ends as it was originally a part of a much larger ancient wilderness like much of the rest of the UK was. Some say the Forest continues to Wales and places like Tintern Abbey whilst others say the area is limited to the "100 of St. Briavels" which is a historic ruling on the Forest's borders.
It's still the home of a lot of important flora and fauna today and privatisation of woodland plays a part for better and worse in this. Conservation areas and intense wildlife management mean that birdwatchers, photographers and nature enthusiasts are drawn to the region from across the UK. Sheep freely roam about the hills and roads and wild boar are something of a pest since being unofficially introduced into the ecosystem. Me Grandad even saw a white stag there once. Then there are stranger stories that continually crop up...
The Forest of Dean is the site of a lot of strange folklore and mysterious tales. Something about wilder places attracts the imagination and many of these stories actually lend to the region's appeal and sense of history. From big cats to supernatural beasts, we discuss a lot of these in the podcast in greater detail, as well as the Herefordshire episode where we discuss semi-mythological creatures like cryptids more generally. They often stem from a dissatisfaction with the reality of nature and a failure to see the beauty and sufficient worth it has. Despite their veracity being based in whispers and overactive imaginations they can sometimes reveal interesting psychological truths in this way though, not dissimilar to an actual ancient myth. Literal belief in witchcraft and other paranormal phenomena has a strange mix of both the sinister and the endearing in how they characterise a place. As well as superstition, rural communities are not without tribalism or regional bitterness, as we discuss in the episode. Rural life is often unhelpfully romanticised or vilified but the reality, like many things of course, is a unique mixture of everything with its various ups and downs.
There's a delicate balance between affection for the interesting quirks and honesty of rural living and just taking the piss. Often media can fall too hard on the latter side when portraying regional peoples with agricultural accents. Without going on too much of a tangent, we would love to eventually discuss society's measure of "success" and how this often restricted to vocational or intellectual achievement. This can be bizarrely at odds with the landscapes and peoples that such commentators love to romanticise.
Listening to the stories and insights from modern-day Forest dwellers there is a strong sense of mixed feelings about the mine closures. Coal was the life-blood of the region - it characterised the identity of the communities by giving them a sense of living heritage and unique pride. The mines gave a sense of mutual purpose and meaning; often achieved through struggle, strife and hard graft. That said, the mining was far from safe nor environmentally friendly. The industry often led to a poor quality of life and was ultimately rendered obsolete. Now closed, this has gutted much of the character and identity of the communities. Now its hospital is closed, the last "free miners" of the Forest (people born in the region who can mine freely after working in a mine beforehand) are diminished to the few home births there. Some places have adapted well to this change since the Forest is one of the most beautiful parts of the British Isles… others have fared less well. These existential and communal challenges are something of a microcosm for the modern world. We are collectively forced to craft new identities as our old narratives and ways of connecting to our history are severed and crumbled or rendered meaningless by the march of progress and technology; sometimes this is freeing and sometimes this void is too difficult to navigate.
Like many traditions, it now exists primarily as an artefact (mostly due to the decline in actual mining culture). It exists on the fringes between history and heritage, the fundamental difference being that one is an interesting factoid (like a rusty sign informing tourists that a village was famous 600 years ago for its weaving) and the other is still alive and kicking (even if its on the decline). The language no longer evolves, adapts or sees much primary use and is spoken mostly in the contexts of occasional phrases, poetry and celebrating heritage by the descendants of mining families. While its complete loss may eventually be inevitable, it needs to be recorded and preserved before it is lost forever. We cut out a long debate about whether it was right to cling to traditions long after they cease to meaningfully relate to people and places. For example, it doesn't make much sense to revive certain pagan traditions in the modern day because we now live in a different context. We have mixed feelings about when residents of communities like the Forest can claim to experience the same.
For American listeners - the general Gloucestershire accent often features a slight twang, from bordering the edges of agricultural region known as the West Country and being relatively near to places like Bristol, but is usually slightly harsher in its vowel sounds (possibly due to the proximity to South Wales). Despite our impressions, our affection for the accent is truly genuine since many of our family genuinely sound like it.
Though not the biggest in the UK by any means, the Forest of Dean has always played a part in historical events - from being a source of wood from Roman times to WW2, sourcing banquets for the King and being the site of rebellion. Many famous people have lived there and continue to… although there is some contention as to where the forest begins and ends as it was originally a part of a much larger ancient wilderness like much of the rest of the UK was. Some say the Forest continues to Wales and places like Tintern Abbey whilst others say the area is limited to the "100 of St. Briavels" which is a historic ruling on the Forest's borders.
It's still the home of a lot of important flora and fauna today and privatisation of woodland plays a part for better and worse in this. Conservation areas and intense wildlife management mean that birdwatchers, photographers and nature enthusiasts are drawn to the region from across the UK. Sheep freely roam about the hills and roads and wild boar are something of a pest since being unofficially introduced into the ecosystem. Me Grandad even saw a white stag there once. Then there are stranger stories that continually crop up...
The Forest of Dean is the site of a lot of strange folklore and mysterious tales. Something about wilder places attracts the imagination and many of these stories actually lend to the region's appeal and sense of history. From big cats to supernatural beasts, we discuss a lot of these in the podcast in greater detail, as well as the Herefordshire episode where we discuss semi-mythological creatures like cryptids more generally. They often stem from a dissatisfaction with the reality of nature and a failure to see the beauty and sufficient worth it has. Despite their veracity being based in whispers and overactive imaginations they can sometimes reveal interesting psychological truths in this way though, not dissimilar to an actual ancient myth. Literal belief in witchcraft and other paranormal phenomena has a strange mix of both the sinister and the endearing in how they characterise a place. As well as superstition, rural communities are not without tribalism or regional bitterness, as we discuss in the episode. Rural life is often unhelpfully romanticised or vilified but the reality, like many things of course, is a unique mixture of everything with its various ups and downs.
There's a delicate balance between affection for the interesting quirks and honesty of rural living and just taking the piss. Often media can fall too hard on the latter side when portraying regional peoples with agricultural accents. Without going on too much of a tangent, we would love to eventually discuss society's measure of "success" and how this often restricted to vocational or intellectual achievement. This can be bizarrely at odds with the landscapes and peoples that such commentators love to romanticise.
Listening to the stories and insights from modern-day Forest dwellers there is a strong sense of mixed feelings about the mine closures. Coal was the life-blood of the region - it characterised the identity of the communities by giving them a sense of living heritage and unique pride. The mines gave a sense of mutual purpose and meaning; often achieved through struggle, strife and hard graft. That said, the mining was far from safe nor environmentally friendly. The industry often led to a poor quality of life and was ultimately rendered obsolete. Now closed, this has gutted much of the character and identity of the communities. Now its hospital is closed, the last "free miners" of the Forest (people born in the region who can mine freely after working in a mine beforehand) are diminished to the few home births there. Some places have adapted well to this change since the Forest is one of the most beautiful parts of the British Isles… others have fared less well. These existential and communal challenges are something of a microcosm for the modern world. We are collectively forced to craft new identities as our old narratives and ways of connecting to our history are severed and crumbled or rendered meaningless by the march of progress and technology; sometimes this is freeing and sometimes this void is too difficult to navigate.