14. Has worship of this deity changed in modern times?
16. How do you think this deity represents the values of their pantheon and cultural origins?
Has worship of Manawydan changed in modern times? Given that we cannot, in all honesty, say we have clear evidence of his worship in less modern times, how can that question be answered?
The only answer I can give is deeply personal: from as far back as I remember, I have been an avid reader of myths and legends, and the stories of the Mabinogi were no exception. But myths and legends carry possibly even more cultural baggage than any other kind of narrative, and I internalised it almost – almost – without noticing. Reading Classical myths was just so much more acceptable, and there was so much more to read about them. The stories of the Mabinogi were passed down to us by staunchly Christian authors and teachers in Wales; they had the dubious privilege of being “ours” – important at a time when Cymdeithas yr Iaith were actively fighting to keep Welsh-speaking communities alive, but also embarrassingly provincial and unsophisticated (and, for those teachers, alarmingly un-Christian); they were treated as strange and whimsical tales of a simpler time. Nobody quite knew what to make of them. Exciting as it was to hear stories of goddesses and heroes set in the very landscape where I lived, we were never encouraged to view them as important, and so I focused on the Classics.
When I first encountered paganism as a spiritual reality, as opposed to an idea, my rekindled interest in the Mabinogi felt bittersweet. The stories seemed as impenetrable and mysterious as ever. I felt simultaneously irritated that so many people were cheerfully appropriating the language I had been brought up to protect, and ashamed that these same people seemed to know more about my heritage of myth than I did. Since then I have come to understand that myths belong to all of us, and we can all learn a lot from each other.
And then I met the Anglesey druids, and began to really learn about the manuscripts from which the surviving bardic material has been drawn. That learning felt like one of the greatest gifts that has ever been entrusted to me. There really is something in all of this, you know; I always knew it, but never knew how to get at it. I won’t pretend I understand everything about it now, but I do understand a little more about how to approach it. And so, little by little, I began to find the courage to write openly of my devotion to a Celtic deity.
This is a very oblique answer, I know. A shorter answer might be: most people who honour Manawydan now work with him as a god of the sea, usually in a ritual framework derived from the traditions of Western ceremonial magic. Our ancestors, if they worshipped him at all, probably did something very different, but no evidence survives to tell us what that might have been.
These words from Will Parker make a fitting conclusion:
“In order to understand what confronts modern readers when they encounter the text of the Mabinogi, we should consider another metaphor for the work. Let the text be compared to a dried leaf-skeleton –delicate and exquisitely complex –but long since removed from its original organic context. By using the appropriate analytical tools, it is possible build up a picture of the living tree from which this leaf must have originally sprung. It roots would seem to be in myth and tribal history; its boughs the off-shoots of Medieval Romance. Around this tree has grown a tangled forest of latter-day fantasy –which itself has given rise to the nascent seedlings of Celtic neopaganism. But the ancient leaf-skeleton that is the Mabinogi reminds us of a time when the great tree at the heart of this forest was itself no more than a young sapling. What we have here is one of the earliest and most prototypical expressions of this distinctive mode of the Western imagination.” – http://www.mabinogi.net/fourbranches.html