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Y Pla
Nofel gyfoes yw Y Pla er mai yn Eifionydd ac Ewrop y bedwaredd ganrif ar ddeg yw'r cefndir. Wrth deithio gyda Ibn al Khatib ar ei siwrnai ar draws cyfandir yr Inffidel i ddial ar frenin Ffrainc, a chyd-lafurio gyda thaeogion y cwmwd Cymreig sy'n ceisio cadw'r blaidd o'r drws, fe ddeuwn yn ymwybodol o'r cysgod bwystfilaidd sy'n cau amdanom, yn eiddgar i'n dryllio ar greigiau hanes.
- GenresHistorical Fiction
365 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1987
2 people are currently reading
21 people want to read
About the author
Wiliam Owen Roberts
11 books6 followersWiliam Owen Roberts (1960-) was brought up in Garndolbenmaen, north Wales and now lives in Cardiff. His first novel, Bingo! (1985) was described as the first post-modern Welsh novel, and marked the beginning of a period of new maturity in the history of the genre in the Welsh language. Y Pla (Pestilence, 1987), his second novel, won him an Arts Council of Wales award in 1988, and has been translated into English, Dutch, French, German, Hungarian and Slovak. His work includes plays and several television and radio series. Paradwys, a more recent novel (Paradise, 2001), is a monumental work which moves between Wales, London, Paris and Haiti in the late eighteenth century.
His most recent novel, Petrograd (2009), is set during the Russian Revolution, which went on the win the Wales Book of the Year award
His most recent novel, Petrograd (2009), is set during the Russian Revolution, which went on the win the Wales Book of the Year award
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Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
August 11, 2014
I should start by saying that I read this book in the original Welsh and have only leafed through the English translation. Normally I wouldn't review a translation based on a reading of the original, but I feel (given the number of people likely to encounter this book in English first, and given the absence of other reviews) that in this case it's helpful.
The point is that this is not only one of the most interesting books to come out of Wales in the twentieth century, but perhaps one of the most interesting books to come out of Britain in the last half-century at least. In many ways it's also quite enjoyable to read: The novel is packed with interesting characters, dramatic action, and intense imagery, all of which the author uses to express genuine anger about the way we structure society. The vividness of the imagery is such that you can almost smell the era, but there is no mistaking the fact that this novel is about the modern world more than it is about the medieval period. (I should add in this context that it feels very well researched and plays cleverly and entertainingly with the historical period it's set in.)
But there are many ways in which "enjoyable" is a deeply misleading word to use. First, one can't help but feel that the author is rather revolted by his species, and this gets rather wearing. One can't, of course, expect a book about plague not to hold a mirror up to the more disgusting aspects of the human condition, but it would be nice if the reader were able to really engage with and root for some of the characters. I didn't find this to be the case, and the book felt unsatisfying as a result. This sense of dissatisfaction wasn't helped by the many storylines in the novel that don't really get resolved (indeed, what might appear to be one of the strongest threads turns out in the end to hang surprisingly loose), or by the inconsistencies in narrative voice. I think this was in many ways intended. The story, that is, is supposed to be fractured and disconcerting, and I can't deny that this makes it interesting; I just found I became somewhat less engaged with the story and its characters as I went on — and that might not have been intended.
And then we have the conclusion. I won't describe it here, except to say that I think I can see what the author was going for, but that it didn't really work. It's heavy-handed and too out-of-the-blue; I felt a little cheated.
And yet. And yet. Any yet I think this was a good novel, and I say again that it is one of the most interesting books I've read for a very long time, and not just in comparison with other Welsh literature. Indeed, Wiliam Owen Roberts is one of the most interesting authors around in Britain at the moment, and he deserves a better audience. His later novel, Paradwys, has much in common with Y Pla, but fewer of the deficiencies. I have yet to read any of his others, but I will.
As for the translation: I leafed through it and was pleased to see corrections of a few minor errors that were present in the original. But I wasn't so pleased to find that the translation didn't quite seem to capture the language of the original, which was something I'd enjoyed. Throughout the original novel, whatever language they're supposed to be speaking, the characters' dialogue is represented not only in Welsh, but in colloquial North-Wales dialect. I thought this very effectively emphasised the common humanity of the very broad range of characters, and I didn't think it came through as well in translation. But I still think it's worth reading.
The point is that this is not only one of the most interesting books to come out of Wales in the twentieth century, but perhaps one of the most interesting books to come out of Britain in the last half-century at least. In many ways it's also quite enjoyable to read: The novel is packed with interesting characters, dramatic action, and intense imagery, all of which the author uses to express genuine anger about the way we structure society. The vividness of the imagery is such that you can almost smell the era, but there is no mistaking the fact that this novel is about the modern world more than it is about the medieval period. (I should add in this context that it feels very well researched and plays cleverly and entertainingly with the historical period it's set in.)
But there are many ways in which "enjoyable" is a deeply misleading word to use. First, one can't help but feel that the author is rather revolted by his species, and this gets rather wearing. One can't, of course, expect a book about plague not to hold a mirror up to the more disgusting aspects of the human condition, but it would be nice if the reader were able to really engage with and root for some of the characters. I didn't find this to be the case, and the book felt unsatisfying as a result. This sense of dissatisfaction wasn't helped by the many storylines in the novel that don't really get resolved (indeed, what might appear to be one of the strongest threads turns out in the end to hang surprisingly loose), or by the inconsistencies in narrative voice. I think this was in many ways intended. The story, that is, is supposed to be fractured and disconcerting, and I can't deny that this makes it interesting; I just found I became somewhat less engaged with the story and its characters as I went on — and that might not have been intended.
And then we have the conclusion. I won't describe it here, except to say that I think I can see what the author was going for, but that it didn't really work. It's heavy-handed and too out-of-the-blue; I felt a little cheated.
And yet. And yet. Any yet I think this was a good novel, and I say again that it is one of the most interesting books I've read for a very long time, and not just in comparison with other Welsh literature. Indeed, Wiliam Owen Roberts is one of the most interesting authors around in Britain at the moment, and he deserves a better audience. His later novel, Paradwys, has much in common with Y Pla, but fewer of the deficiencies. I have yet to read any of his others, but I will.
As for the translation: I leafed through it and was pleased to see corrections of a few minor errors that were present in the original. But I wasn't so pleased to find that the translation didn't quite seem to capture the language of the original, which was something I'd enjoyed. Throughout the original novel, whatever language they're supposed to be speaking, the characters' dialogue is represented not only in Welsh, but in colloquial North-Wales dialect. I thought this very effectively emphasised the common humanity of the very broad range of characters, and I didn't think it came through as well in translation. But I still think it's worth reading.
March 18, 2020
Mae'r llyfr hwn nid yn unig ymhlith y llyfrau mwyaf diddorol i ddod allan o Gymru yn yr ugeinfed ganrif, ond mae yn bosib ymhlith y llyfrau mwyaf diddorol i ddod allan o Brydain i gyd yn yr hanner-ganrif ddiwethaf o leia. Ar sawl cyfrif cefais i hefyd blesur wrth ei ddarllen: Mae'r nofel yn llawn o gymeriadau diddorol, digwyddiadau dramatig, a delweddiad cryf, ac fe ddefnyddir hyn i gyd gan yr awdur i fynegi dicter gwirioneddol tuag at yr ffordd yr ydym yn trefnio cymdeithas. Mae bywiogrwydd y delweddiad gystal, fel y gellir bron â chlywed oglau'r cyfnod, ond ni ddyled gwneud y camgymeriad o fethu'r ffaith mai nofel am y byd modern yn fwy nag am y cyfnod canoloesol ydy hon. (Dylwn ychwanegu yn y cyd-destun hwn bod yr ymchwil manwl a aeth i mewn i'r nofel yn amlwg, ac fe chwaraeir yn glyfar ac yn ddiddan efo'r cyfnod hanesyddol.)
Ond ar lawer cyfrif mae'r gair "plesur" yn air hynod o gamarweiniol. Yn gyntaf, ni ellir llai na theimlo bod y rhywogaeth ddynol yn codi cyfog ar yr awdur, ac mae hyn yn mynd braidd yn ddiflas. Ni ellir, wrth gwrs, disgwyl na fydd llyfr am y pla yn dal drych i fyny at weddau mwyaf afiach y cyflwr dynol, ond hoffwn petai'n bosib i'r darllenwr gyd-deimlo o ddifrif â rhai o'r cymeriadau a'u cefnogi. Ni theimlais fod hyn yn hawdd iawn o gwbl, ac fe deimlodd y llyfr yn eithaf anfoddhaol o'r herwydd. Ni helpwyd y teimlad hwn o anfoddhad gan y nifer fawr o rediadau stori nas cwblhawyd yn iawn (yn wir, mae'r edau a ymddengys i ddechrau ei bod ymhlith y cryfaf yn troi allan yn y diwedd i hongian yn anniswgwyl o rydd), neu gan yr anghysondebau yn llais y naratif. Mae'n debyg yr oedd hyn i raddau helaeth yn fwriadol. Hynny ydy, mae'r stori i fod yn doredig ac yn anesmwythol, ac ni allaf wadu bod hyn yn ei gwneud yn ddiddorol; ond teimlais fy hyn yn colli fy ymrwymiad i'r stori a'r cymeriadau wrth fynd ymlaen — ac mae'n bosib nad oedd hyn yn fwriadol ar ran yr awdur.
Ac yna yr ydym yn dod at y diweddglo. Nid wyf am ei ddisgrifio yma, heblaw am ddweud fy mod yn meddwl y gallaf ddeall beth oedd yr awdur yn ceisio ei gyflawni, ond yn fy marn i fe fethodd. Mae'r terfyniad yn drwsgl ac yn dod yn rhy annisgwyl; teimlas fymryn fy mod wedi 'nhwyllo.
Ac eto. Ac eto. Ac eto tybiwn mai nofel dda oedd hon, ac fe ddywedaf eto fod hwn ymhlith y llyfrau mwyaf diddorol yr wyf wedi eu darllen am amser hir iawn, ac nid yn unig o'i gymharu â llenyddiaeth Gymraeg arall. Yn wir, mae Wiliam Owen Roberts ymhlith yr awduron mwyaf diddorol ym Mhrydain ar y funud, ac fe haedda gynulleidfa well. Mae gan ei nofel ddiweddarach, Paradwys, lawer yn gyffredin â'r Pla, ond llai o'r gwendidau. Yr wyf heb ddarllen ei lyfrau eraill, ond fe wnaf.
Dylai pob un a all ddarllen yn y Gymraeg roi cynnig ar ddarllen Y Pla.
Ond ar lawer cyfrif mae'r gair "plesur" yn air hynod o gamarweiniol. Yn gyntaf, ni ellir llai na theimlo bod y rhywogaeth ddynol yn codi cyfog ar yr awdur, ac mae hyn yn mynd braidd yn ddiflas. Ni ellir, wrth gwrs, disgwyl na fydd llyfr am y pla yn dal drych i fyny at weddau mwyaf afiach y cyflwr dynol, ond hoffwn petai'n bosib i'r darllenwr gyd-deimlo o ddifrif â rhai o'r cymeriadau a'u cefnogi. Ni theimlais fod hyn yn hawdd iawn o gwbl, ac fe deimlodd y llyfr yn eithaf anfoddhaol o'r herwydd. Ni helpwyd y teimlad hwn o anfoddhad gan y nifer fawr o rediadau stori nas cwblhawyd yn iawn (yn wir, mae'r edau a ymddengys i ddechrau ei bod ymhlith y cryfaf yn troi allan yn y diwedd i hongian yn anniswgwyl o rydd), neu gan yr anghysondebau yn llais y naratif. Mae'n debyg yr oedd hyn i raddau helaeth yn fwriadol. Hynny ydy, mae'r stori i fod yn doredig ac yn anesmwythol, ac ni allaf wadu bod hyn yn ei gwneud yn ddiddorol; ond teimlais fy hyn yn colli fy ymrwymiad i'r stori a'r cymeriadau wrth fynd ymlaen — ac mae'n bosib nad oedd hyn yn fwriadol ar ran yr awdur.
Ac yna yr ydym yn dod at y diweddglo. Nid wyf am ei ddisgrifio yma, heblaw am ddweud fy mod yn meddwl y gallaf ddeall beth oedd yr awdur yn ceisio ei gyflawni, ond yn fy marn i fe fethodd. Mae'r terfyniad yn drwsgl ac yn dod yn rhy annisgwyl; teimlas fymryn fy mod wedi 'nhwyllo.
Ac eto. Ac eto. Ac eto tybiwn mai nofel dda oedd hon, ac fe ddywedaf eto fod hwn ymhlith y llyfrau mwyaf diddorol yr wyf wedi eu darllen am amser hir iawn, ac nid yn unig o'i gymharu â llenyddiaeth Gymraeg arall. Yn wir, mae Wiliam Owen Roberts ymhlith yr awduron mwyaf diddorol ym Mhrydain ar y funud, ac fe haedda gynulleidfa well. Mae gan ei nofel ddiweddarach, Paradwys, lawer yn gyffredin â'r Pla, ond llai o'r gwendidau. Yr wyf heb ddarllen ei lyfrau eraill, ond fe wnaf.
Dylai pob un a all ddarllen yn y Gymraeg roi cynnig ar ddarllen Y Pla.
September 12, 2025
Rating: 13/20
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews