I arrived at the Coach and Horses last Thursday with no intention to write anything about the evening which was to come.   But I went home with a different idea entirely for the event celebrated not just poetry but a remarkable local publishing venture: Roncadora Press. Hugh Bryden, the creative force behind Roncadora, has engaged in an extended collaboration with local poets to produce limited edition books. Each one is unique in character and, quite apart from its content, crafted with unfailing deftness in a range of print techniques, formats, and layouts. But Hugh has decided that Roncadora Press has run its course, and he wishes to focus on other projects.

To mark the conclusion of the Roncadora era, its final collaboration was with another Hugh, Hugh McMillan. The two Hughs have collaborated on many Roncadora projects. This final work, “Colin goes South”, has been described by the poet himself as a “deranged version of the Gododdin set on the train from Dumfries to Carlisle!” We were treated to readings from this epic, a fascinating and, at times, hilarious piece of work. I should like to have quoted from it. Sadly, the copy I bought somehow got left behind in the Coach and Horses. Rest assured, I shall be purchasing a second copy and sending my good wishes to whoever went home with mine.

The second half of the evening was given over to an open mic session, providing an opportunity for a range of others to present their work. We heard everything from a first poem—a kind of manifesto for the medium—through to poems expressing grief, a poem on the challenge of an empty chair, and a poem on a remarkable encounter in East Belfast, this last read by a visitor, Charlie Gracie. For me, perhaps signalling my less than complete commitment to serious work, the highlight of the evening came from a young woman (I didn’t catch her name, but someone I hope will tell me). She gave us an extended monologue culminating in a visit to the castle of Count Dracula, the whole thing performed from memory in a range of character voices and distinguished by some magnificent puns. Edinburgh Fringe, eat your heart out, I would say. It was a fine evening’s entertainment all round.

I would note one contribution from a member of the audience who did not deign to take the floor. She offered an eight-line poem, a commentary, as I understood it, on the use of mobile phones by some of those performing as a source from which to read their work. The eight lines were cleverly written, I thought. The author appeared to suggest that words read from a paper source, whether book, notebook, or folder, were in some way preferable, perhaps even superior—or did I miss some detail?—to those read from a screen.

My understanding of the message was consistent with the creative framing which Roncodora Press has offered for the work of local poets, and that is something I esteem. Yet as I set off for home, I found myself in disagreement with what I think I heard. I have listened more than once to poems read from a mobile phone and thought the work was good. Indeed, I have more than once read poetry aloud (not my own) from a mobile phone and felt that I have shared something significant with my listeners which I’d like to think was welcome. There is a vast archive of poetry on the internet which can be accessed on a mobile phone.

If I do have a message for those who read their work from a phone or a tablet, it would be: get the damn thing sorted out before you stand up. But that’s a minor point, and I can imagine that, when you’re nervous, sorting your phone out is a little like tuning a guitar—necessary, of course, but also a way of calming yourself down.

I’ll finish, though, with a further mention of the work of Hugh Bryden. I was in Sanquhar a few weeks ago in the cafe and art centre, A’ The Airts. I spotted a book of poems by Betty Tyndal, titled “Journey at Solstice”. I knew who Betty was, though I hadn’t seen her for years. I picked up the book. It was a slim volume, hand-sewn, but what most caught my eye were the beautiful illustrations throughout. They were by Hugh Bryden, working in a style I might not have associated with him. I won’t tell you the price for which it was for sale, because it was an insult to the work. Of course I bought it, took it home, and what’s more, I read it. I thought it a rather fine piece of writing.

I brought the book along to the Coach and Horses and asked Hugh to sign it, which he did, telling me that Betty, now aged 92, is still living at the address given for the publisher and printed at the front of the book.

The following day I dropped in to see her. She sat in her small conservatory, surrounded by books, overlooking a garden full of apple and pear trees laden with fruit. She recalled for me the research she had done for “Journey at Solstice”, which she thought of as a reappraisal of the contribution which the Vikings made to our culture. She was kind enough to sign the copy of her book which I had brought with me.

Remarkably, she was working on a new poem, framed within her own bespoke book—a beautifully crafted folding creation with little pockets containing various objects, and also a short poem, which she took out and read to me. The project is a work in progress, she told me.

There is no doubt that mobile phones do have their limitations.

Endnotes

Roncadora Press https://www.hughbryden.com/?page_id=14

Hugh McMillan https://www.hughmcmillanwriter.co.uk/

Coach and Horses https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=1276110417646736&set=pcb.1276110450980066