tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49509990497893940422024-03-16T23:25:55.465-07:00Seven Miles of Steel ThistlesFolklore and fairy talesKatherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.comBlogger502125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-14765218464598078212024-03-01T02:01:00.000-08:002024-03-01T02:01:07.557-08:00Seal songs and legends<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4pdh-mFKS0qffXA_5U1_ml5TEGkm_6dLBZYG0U6xDWTsVqll97dkwdipfzQA9IF7VXa3zg047TiP7glnysMk472QROd3fH5AD8u962y8OddT_H4_-Gnf1kn9_uCuNGo7SD7yOUTWrnc24I8IQvBF6JvIkyB86Yuw1OvseY158J_a5KJzKxuVWeGQV6rt/s1280/selkie%20K%C3%B3pakonan.jpg%20wikipedia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4pdh-mFKS0qffXA_5U1_ml5TEGkm_6dLBZYG0U6xDWTsVqll97dkwdipfzQA9IF7VXa3zg047TiP7glnysMk472QROd3fH5AD8u962y8OddT_H4_-Gnf1kn9_uCuNGo7SD7yOUTWrnc24I8IQvBF6JvIkyB86Yuw1OvseY158J_a5KJzKxuVWeGQV6rt/w640-h426/selkie%20K%C3%B3pakonan.jpg%20wikipedia.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Stories about selkies are
ambiguous, evocative, sad. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This is largely because of the way seals themselves
affect us. Bobbing curiously up around boats, they seem to feel as much
interest in us as we feel for them, and there is something human
about their round heads and large eyes. Basking on sunlit rocks they are part
of our world, yet are also natural inhabitants of an unseen, underwater
world in which we would drown. For most of our species' co-existence, only in imagination could we follow them there. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">My
mother used to sing a lovely song called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Song to
the Seals</i> (words by Sir Harold Boulton, music by Granville Bantock) about a
sea-maid who sits on a reef calling the seals in a lilting, melancholy
refrain: ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hoiran oiran oiran eero… hoiran
oiran oiran eero… hoiran oiran oiran ee la leu ran…</i>’ You can listen to it here, sung by boy treble Sebastian Carrington.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/XZPGzIr0Cc4" width="320" youtube-src-id="XZPGzIr0Cc4"></iframe></div><br /><br /><div>And the sheet music
includes a introductory note: ‘The refrain of this song was actually used
recently on a Hebridean island by a singer who thereby attracted a quantity of
seals to gather round and listen intently to the singing.’<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With so much inter-species interaction and fascination
going on, it’s no wonder there are many legends and songs about selkies: seal-people
who can cast off their thick pelts and appear in human form. The ballad of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry</i> exists
in a number of variants, but the earliest was written down in 1852 by
Lieutenant F.W.L. Thomas of the Royal Navy, and it was dictated to him by an
old lady of Snarra Voe, Shetland. The ballad tells the tragedy of a woman who
has borne a child to a unsettlingly Other selkie man, ‘a grumlie guest’ who
brings a waft of salt-sea terror as he appears. ‘I am a man upo’ the land, he
announces, </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘An’ I am a Silkie in
the sea;<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">And when I’m far and far frae lan’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 105%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 105%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">My
dwelling is in Sule Skerrie.’</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 105%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">As Lieutenant Thomas explains:</span> </p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The story is founded on the superstition of the Seals or Selkies being
able to throw off their waterproof jackets, and assume the more graceful
proportions of the genus Homo… Silky is a common name in the north country for
a seal, and appears to be a corruption of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">selch</i>,
the Norse word for that animal. Sule Skerry is a small rocky islet, lying about
twenty-five miles to the westward of Hoy Head, in Orkney, from whence it may be
seen in very clear weather…</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">And he tells of coming in
from the cod-fisheries on a foggy, windless morning, rowing ‘for nearly a mile
through the narrow channels formed by a thousand weed-covered skerries’ and
hearing the seals’ ‘lullaby’: ‘groans and sighs expressive of unutterable torment…
followed by a melancholy howl of hopeless despair’. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">A few
years ago, wandering the fractured rocky shore of Longstone Island off the
coast of Northumberland, I too became aware of this eerie sound. Keening,
moaning, huff-huff-huffing – hooting like children who make long quavering
ghost noises – a group of twenty or so seals were crying to one another as they
lay on a ridge at the edge of the tide. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The
unnamed woman in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Great Silkie</i> is
destined to lose both her half-selkie child and its selkie father: the Silkie
predicts she will marry a mortal man, ‘a proud gunner’, who will shoot them while
they play together in the bright summer sea. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The Sule
Skerry selkie is male, but the best-known selkie tales tell of a seal-woman
captured by a fisherman who sees her dancing on a moonlit beach. He steals her
discarded skin, preventing her from changing back into seal form. Such stories
generally end when the selkie bride recovers her hidden sealskin and returns to
the sea, abandoning her human husband and children. ‘I loved you well,’ she
sometimes calls, ‘but I loved better my husband and children in the sea.’
Unions between humans and faerie creatures rarely turn out well. These are
disturbing tales of constraint and capture, power and powerlessness. And they
are haunted by loss: the selkie’s longing for her own element and the heartache
of man and children left behind. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">I was
thinking about this story while I was writing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Troll Mill</i>, the second of my fantasy trilogy for children set in a
Viking-Norway-that-never-was, and I found within it a metaphor for post-natal
depression. (That’s not to pin it down; folk and fairy tales are open to many
interpretations.) But the thought gave me the heart of my book. Kersten is a
seal-woman stolen – and named – by Bjørn, a fisherman. She lives with him in
apparent content until one stormy evening she finds her sealskin cloak, races
to the shore and thrusts her new-born child into the arms of the young hero
Peer, before hurling herself into the sea. Left literally holding the baby,
Peer cannot catch her; he yells a warning to his friend Bjørn, who runs to
intercept her –</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">And Kersten stopped. She threw herself flat and the wet sealskin cloak
billowed over her, hiding her from head to foot. Underneath it, she continued
to move in heavy, lolloping jumps. She must be crawling on hands and knees,
drawing the skin closely around her. She rolled. Waves rushed up and sucked her
into the water. Trapped in those encumbering folds, she would drown. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; text-indent: 36pt;">‘Kersten!’ Peer screamed. The body in the
water<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>twisted, lithe and muscular, and
plunged forward into the next grey wave.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 36pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">I wanted there to be an
element of doubt. Is Kersten really a selkie, or is it simply a story the other
characters make about her, in an attempt to explain what she did, and why?
Years earlier, the daughter of a friend and work colleague of mine had killed
herself in the grip of post-natal depression, and a great part of the book – I
realised after I’d written it – turned out to be about motherhood and what it
does to you, and the different ways people cope or don’t cope. I didn’t plan this,
it just came out that way. There was Kersten, the mother who goes missing, lost
or dead. There was Gudrun, older, capable, hard-working, the nurturing but
sometimes short-tempered mother. There was a troll princess, drama-queen mother
of the sort of spoiled brat other mothers dread. And there was Granny
Greenteeth, my version of the dangerous English water-spirit Jenny Greenteeth
who drags children into the green depths of the stagnant water she inhabits. She
claims the motherless half-selkie baby, Ran, as her lawful prey even though the
child will drown. She is the destructively possessive mother.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Peer saw her, or thought he did: Granny Greenteeth in human form,
sitting at the bottom of the millpond with Ran in her arms. A greenish light
clung around them. Granny Greenteeth’s hair was waving upwards in a terrible
aureole and she bent over Ran, rocking her to and fro.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Granny or Jenny Greenteeth
is a fresh-water spirit, a nixie not a selkie, and her origin in English
folklore is likely to have been as a bogey to frighten children away from
dangerous ponds. Jacob Grimm in his <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Teutonic
Mythology</i> (1835) says that the Danish water spirit, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">nøkke</i>, wears a green hat and that ‘when
he grins you see his green teeth’. Grimm adds that ‘there runs through the
stories of water-sprites a vein of cruelty and bloodthirstiness which is not
easily found among daemons of mountains, woods and homes… To this day, when
people are drowned in a river, it is common to say: “The river-sprite demands
his yearly victim,” which is usually an innocent child.’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Unlike
nixies, selkies are not cruel, though they sometimes take revenge on those who
have mistreated them. They are not spirits, but creatures of flesh and blood
like ourselves, as the Shetland and Orkney islanders who told selkie stories in
the 1940s to David Thomson for BBC radio (and published later in Thomson’s book
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The People of The Sea</i>) knew full
well. One story Thomson heard in the radio age was told by Shetlander Gilbert
Charlson, and it couldn’t be plainer about the physicality of the selkie race. A
band of men land on the Ve Skerries (the ‘Holy Skerries’) to stun the seals
there and skin them alive:</span><span style="text-indent: 36pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">‘Ye’d no sooner stun your seal than you’d set to and skin him, you
understand, for if you left him there he might come back to life and go back
into the sea while you turned around. T’was hard to be sure if they were dead
or no, for it’s very hard to kill them…’</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The tale was already over
a century old, for it is also found in Samuel Hibbert’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Description of the Shetland Islands</i> (1822). Hibbert’s account is
just as graphic:</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">They … stunned several of them and while they lay stupefied, stripped
them of their skins, with the fat attached to them. They left the naked
carcasses lying on the rocks, and were about to get into their boats with their
spoils and return to Papa Stour, whence they had come.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">As they prepare to leave,
a huge swell rises; the men all leap for their boats… The Ve Skerries are the
very ones through which Lieutenant Thomas RN rowed in the 1850s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>coming back from his cod-fishing expedition,
and he described them as “almost covered by the sea at high water, and in this
stormy climate, a heavy surf breaking over them generally forms an effectual
barrier to boats.” So the men are swift to leave: but one is left behind.
Unable to bring the boats close enough for him to jump, his friends give up and
row for home, knowing he’ll be washed away. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And now the seals return to the skerry, moaning and crying
for the deaths of their kin; crying even more for those still alive, who
without their skins can never return to their home in the sea – this glosses
the truth of actual, living, skinned seals still writhing on the rocks... The the
one crying the loudest is a female selkie called<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Geira’ – or ‘Gioga’ in the older version –
for her son Hancie has lost his skin and must now be forever exiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Seeing the shivering, stranded fisherman fated to die
from exposure or drowning, Geira offers to carry him on her back all the way
home to Papa Stour, if in return he will find and restore her son’s sealskin.
The man is willing, but he is desperately afraid of the turbulent waves. So he
asks her permission to cut slots in the thick sealskin of her shoulders and flanks,
two for his hands and two for his feet, so that he can hold on firmly ‘between
the skin and the flesh’ and will ‘no slip in tae the sea’. So dear is her son
to Geira that she agrees, and carries the man away through the storm and all
the way back to Papa Stour. The story ends:</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">‘And this man went across the island in the night, when he landed. He
walked down by the Dutch Loch and on to Hamna Voe. He made sure his comrades
were sleeping. And he went there to the skeo <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">[a little stone house used for the curing of fish]</i>. And he chose
out the longest and bonniest skin out o’ a’ that lay there and took it to the
old mother selkie, Geira. It was the skin o’ her son, Hancie, and away wi’ that
she swam.’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">David Thomson: The People of the Sea</i></span> </p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">So there’s a tale of
co-operation between human and selkie, even though the man was part of a team
slaughtering and skinning the seals. The relationship between the two races is
not an equal one. The men prey upon the seals in order to live – to sell the
skins, and make shoes and garments from them. They use the seals, and also they
depend upon them: they owe them. And they’re uneasy about it, uneasy about
killing these creatures who seem so much like…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>people. One more quotation from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
People of the Sea</i>, from eighty year-old Osie Fea:</span> </p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">‘It’s no wonder they were thought to be like us,’ he said. ‘For the
seals and ourselves were aye thrown together in our way o’ getting a living,
and everything we feel, they feel, ye may be sure o’ that.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘I wouldna care to be
near them,’ said Margaret Fae.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘I have watched
them,’ said Osie, ‘as near as I am to you. I have seen a mother out by the Seal
Skerry when the sea was full o’ wreckage. There was a ship wrecked out by and
it was rough, and this wreckage was tumbling her young one about so he couldna
win ashore. I could see the anxiety gazing out o’ her eyes like a woman’s. The
very same. The very same as a woman’s.’</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">It is surely from this
sense of identification, of empathy and of guilt, that the stories were born.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitjL4ucAj8MKtZ_hnwt_y0YXHKsh77SFlTsQwLrfr4wf9yPI3g1gcMn5c9BkfyhtX67z4OswDwnfHcm7UheyFklhK8Y0MGz7DSBBi8cYP2HdvfNrvNUGg-YMuNSeivGQW39qbz-qOyMflLQCRP0HruwCupeTyKZuRjcgJialGyfWYLJmg0D8rBJMXzmPYc/s800/Selkie%20Kopakonen,%20Faroes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="531" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitjL4ucAj8MKtZ_hnwt_y0YXHKsh77SFlTsQwLrfr4wf9yPI3g1gcMn5c9BkfyhtX67z4OswDwnfHcm7UheyFklhK8Y0MGz7DSBBi8cYP2HdvfNrvNUGg-YMuNSeivGQW39qbz-qOyMflLQCRP0HruwCupeTyKZuRjcgJialGyfWYLJmg0D8rBJMXzmPYc/w424-h640/Selkie%20Kopakonen,%20Faroes.jpg" width="424" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p><u> Picture credits:</u></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p>The Seal Woman of Kopakonan, Faroes. <a href="https://old.visitfaroeislands.com/en/be-inspired/in-depth-articles/legend-of-kopakonan-(seal-woman)/">Read her story on the Faroes website at this link</a></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The Seal Woman of Kopakonan: photo by Annebjorg Andreasen</span></p><h1 style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 20px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px; margin: 0px 0px 25px;"><br /></h1><br /><p></p></div>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-66810812751426617682024-01-26T01:38:00.000-08:002024-01-26T02:16:01.588-08:00The 'Little Dark People' <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkMqUCZKWnGKvy3NwxKpRdTGygapjGW4Kn7ENLoa3asqidEdd8IK54-1hcaQgXn5nJeO2SGi64NeKVDd3MLTkLnkexh9tasN8hyphenhyphensMaynHGoFkL4xGrJ07v8gVanHhLtpShHlYBHvBPouYPhK4tZdrA2xvMp6Sk-9xKqFaVYGmOA46-z0D_m7EqNmyICOdj/s450/Pixy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="426" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkMqUCZKWnGKvy3NwxKpRdTGygapjGW4Kn7ENLoa3asqidEdd8IK54-1hcaQgXn5nJeO2SGi64NeKVDd3MLTkLnkexh9tasN8hyphenhyphensMaynHGoFkL4xGrJ07v8gVanHhLtpShHlYBHvBPouYPhK4tZdrA2xvMp6Sk-9xKqFaVYGmOA46-z0D_m7EqNmyICOdj/w379-h400/Pixy.jpg" width="379" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">
In ‘A Book of Folk-Lore’ (1913) the Devon folklorist Sabine
Baring-Gould recounts three instances in which he and members of his family
‘saw’ pixies or dwarfs. I’ll let you read them: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
In the year 1838, when I was a
small boy of four years old, we were driving to Montpellier [France] on a hot
summer’s day, over the long straight road that traverses a pebble and rubble
strewn plain on which grows nothing save a few aromatic herbs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
I was sitting on the box with my
father, when to my great surprise I saw legions of dwarfs about two feet high
running along beside the horses – some sat laughing on the pole, some were
scrambling up the harness to get on the backs of the horses. I remarked to my
father what I saw, when he abruptly stopped the carriage and put me inside
beside my mother, where, the conveyance being closed, I was out of the sun. The
effect was that little by little the host of imps diminished in number till
they disappeared altogether. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
When my wife was a girl of
fifteen, she was walking down a lane in Yorkshire between green hedges, when
she saw seated in one of the privet hedges a little green man, who looked at
her with his beady black eyes. He was about a foot or eighteen inches
high.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was so frightened that she ran
home. She cannot recall exactly in what month this took place, but knows it was
a summer’s day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
One day a son of mine, a lad of
about twelve, was sent into the garden to pick pea-pods for the cook to shell
for dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Presently he rushed into the
house as white as chalk to say that while he was engaged upon the task imposed
upon him he saw standing between the rows of peas a little man wearing a red
cap, a green jacket, and brown knee-breeches, whose face was old and wan and
who had a gray beard and eyes as black and hard as sloes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He stared so intently at the boy that the
latter took to his heels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know exactly
when this occurred, as I entered it in my diary, and I know when I saw the imps
by looking in my father’s diary, and though he did not enter the circumstance,
I recall the vision today as distinctly as when I was a child. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In spite of the vivid and detailed nature of these visions
Baring-Gould didn’t believe he or his family had seen anything ‘real’. He
continues stoutly:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
Now, in all three cases, these
apparitions were due to the effect of a hot sun on the head. But such an
explanation is not sufficient. Why did all three see small beings of a very
similar character?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With ... temporary hallucination the pictures presented to the eye are never
originally conceived, they are reproductions of representations either seen
previously or conceived from descriptions given by others. In my case and that
of my wife, we saw imps, because our nurses had told us of them… In the case of
my son, he had read Grimms’ Tales and seen the illustrations to them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNLf1jlUF2OY0Au8Js7Jv8xZmbBYs9JCF6ipqDrO-9u_LikcG3IDHjumy1P-IvAQNc26RL-O_hkuzbmHyOURpIoQVWEaFOzZWey9PbBnBOmeR7WVZSi2_a_5Iv4PKUax5zUYTxnpUPA3q/s1600/Julekort_med_nisse_og_gr%25C3%25B8t_%252818886771365%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="413" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNLf1jlUF2OY0Au8Js7Jv8xZmbBYs9JCF6ipqDrO-9u_LikcG3IDHjumy1P-IvAQNc26RL-O_hkuzbmHyOURpIoQVWEaFOzZWey9PbBnBOmeR7WVZSi2_a_5Iv4PKUax5zUYTxnpUPA3q/w640-h413/Julekort_med_nisse_og_gr%25C3%25B8t_%252818886771365%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">
Rational indeed – though still a little puzzling that
sun-stroke or heat-stroke should in each case have brought on visions of dwarfs
or pixies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> P</span>erhaps it ran in the
family. However that may be, Baring-Gould acknowledges that this explanation
only pushes the problem further into the past – ‘Where did our nurses, whence
did Grimm <i>[sic]</i> obtain their tales of kobolds, gnomes, dwarfs, pixies, brownies
etc? … To go to the root of the matter, in what did the prevailing belief in
the existence of these small people originate?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And he answers thus: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
I suspect that there did exist a
small people, not so small as these imps are represented, but comparatively
small beside the Aryans who lived in all those countries in which the tradition
of their existence lingers on. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The grim events of the 20<sup>th</sup> century have taught
us to beware of the word ‘Aryan’, liberally scattered in the introduction to
many a 19<sup>th</sup> century collection. Sir
George Dasent, introducing ‘Popular Tales from the Norse’ (his translation of
Asbjornsen and Moe’s 'Norske Folkeeventyr’) includes a section on ‘the Aryan
race’ which according to contemporary anthropological wisdom had spread across Europe
‘in days of immemorial antiquity’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
1905, citing the biologist Thomas Henry Huxley as his authority, Charles
Squire
in ‘Celtic Myths and Legends’ writes confidently of ‘certain proof of
two
distinct human stocks in the British Isles at the time of the Roman
conquest’.
He describes them: the early people who built Britain’s long barrows
were
‘Iberian’ or ‘Mediterranean’ in origin: ‘a short, swarthy, dark-haired’
aboriginal race; but ‘the second of these two races was the exact
opposite of
the first. It was the tall, fair, light-haired, blue- or gray-eyed
people
called, popularly, the “Celts”, who belonged in speech to the “Aryan”
family …
It was in a higher stage of culture than the “Iberians”.’ In the
illustration below from a history of the world published in 1897, we see
how the heroic Celts were imagined, along with an account of the 'Aryan
migration'. And they were supposed to have displaced a different race
of indigenous people, driving them almost literally underground.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYmfP8lCTNHnqVGbEtKfHYCoHj6K3YEV8GiAT4C-4Mw56q_5witinF0vPCgKf0T7Hb6NLwPmQMMKxuneyDrUWrP4GtKk6EJwqFIAAeg_Tj7Tu8OofM7CnZ70KYhKiFWknI9Gd3OrtIduL/s1600/ridpathshistoryo01ridp_0529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYmfP8lCTNHnqVGbEtKfHYCoHj6K3YEV8GiAT4C-4Mw56q_5witinF0vPCgKf0T7Hb6NLwPmQMMKxuneyDrUWrP4GtKk6EJwqFIAAeg_Tj7Tu8OofM7CnZ70KYhKiFWknI9Gd3OrtIduL/s640/ridpathshistoryo01ridp_0529.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'The Celtic Vanguard' from 'Ridpath's History of the World', 1897</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">
This notion of ‘two races, two cultures’ has been
discredited. Archaologists and geneticists now agree that Europe has been a
melting-pot of racial groups from at least the early Neolithic. European Mesolithic
hunter-gatherers were neither replaced nor suddenly shunted out; instead, over
several thousand years, they assimilated both the culture and the genes of a
gradually diffusing population of Neolithic farmers. It wasn’t until the Bronze
Age (says Professor Barry Cunliffe in ‘<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Europe-Between-Oceans-9000-BC-AD/dp/0300170866">Europe Between the Oceans, 9000 BC – AD1000</a>’) that sea-faring and trading populations on the on the coasts of Europe,
Britain and Ireland, developed the Celtic tongue as ‘an Atlantic façade <i>lingua
franca</i>’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Isn't that wonderful? </span>The
Celts didn’t ‘come from’
anywhere: they were in place already. The Celtic languages evolved
because coastal peoples travelled and traded and intermarried and talked
to one another. Britain wasn't isolated, it was always an integral part
of Europe. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So the Reverend Sabine Baring-Gould was wrong. There never was a
distinctly different race of ‘little dark people’ living on the edges of
a conquering population of tall, fair, confident ‘Aryans’. Nothing to
give
rise to a belief in a ‘hidden folk’ of pixies, dwarfs or elves. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can see why he liked the idea. It seemed to answer a lot
of questions, besides lending to folk-lore a kind of scientific gloss:
anthropological ‘truths’ preserved in tales. Many a writer has been honestly misled by
it. In Rosemary Sutcliff’s tremendous novel ‘Sword at Sunset’, the
Romano-British and nominally Christian hero Artos, fighting off the Saxon invasions in the 3<sup>rd</sup>
century AD, takes as his allies ‘the little Dark People of the Hills’, who live
half-underground in turf-covered bothies, use poisoned arrows and worship the
Earth Mother. Their clan leader, the Old Woman, calls Artos ‘Sun Lord’ and
tells him:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
‘We are small and weak, and our
numbers grow fewer with the years, but we are scattered very wide, wherever
there are hills or lonely places. We can send news and messages racing from one
end of a land to the other between moon-rise and moonset; we can creep and hide
and spy and bring back word; we are the hunters who can tell you when the game
has passed by, by a bent grass-blade or one hair clinging to a bramble-spray.
We are the viper that stings in the dark –’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw4gID8VFyEhgOwmZYNV-LVd8Z0QuYx0EI5Q03XzQaC7zjMqe11KxoxT3og1HbawIpVamAPCZZUb0quXnO0eldRjxlQQkfUX9ECr4hPGsXFIUX2iImbZoxdRPueQG7qTk7Pv9CLKuIJJYV/s1600/mark+of+the+horse+lord+001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw4gID8VFyEhgOwmZYNV-LVd8Z0QuYx0EI5Q03XzQaC7zjMqe11KxoxT3og1HbawIpVamAPCZZUb0quXnO0eldRjxlQQkfUX9ECr4hPGsXFIUX2iImbZoxdRPueQG7qTk7Pv9CLKuIJJYV/w424-h640/mark+of+the+horse+lord+001.jpg" width="424" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And in the same author's if-anything-even-more-magnificent ‘The
Mark of the Horse Lord’, the half-Roman half-British ex-gladiator
Phaedrus,
masquerading as Midir, Lord of the Dalriata (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D%C3%A1l_Riata">an actual 4th century AD Scots-Irish Gaelic kingdom</a>),
lays down his iron weapons to call upon an Old Man of the Dark People
who lives like a badger in ‘a tumble of stones and turf laced together
with brambles’ with ‘a dark
opening in its side’:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
[Phaedrus] had heard before of
places such as this, where one left something that needed mending, together with
a gift, and came back later to find the gift gone and the broken thing mended;
it was one of those things no one talked of very much, the places where the
life of the Sun People touched the life of the Old Ones, the People of the
Hills. Like the bowls of milk that the women put out sometimes at night, in
exchange for some small job to be done – like the knot of rowan hung over a
doorway for protection against the ancient Earth Magic – like the stealing of a
Sun Child from time to time.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This Old Man is ‘slight-boned … with grey hair brushed back
from his narrow brow, and eyes that seemed at first glance like jet
beads…’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sutcliff was writing in the
mid-1960s when the ‘two races’ hypothesis was still widely credited: she wrote with great imaginative empathy. I grew up with these stories and it was easy
to be swept along by the idea: these Little Dark People or Painted People, these remnants
of the past clinging to the verge of cultures which had displaced them, were
the historical origin of the fairies. I was sorry for them. Despite Sutcliff’s
sympathetic treatment, these marginalised archaic people seem nearly
powerless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their magic – feared though
it is – doesn’t really work on the more advanced Sun People. They are spies,
not warriors: they creep through the heather with poisoned arrows, killing by
stealth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> They are in fact </span>natives, with
all the baggage that implied in colonial and post-colonial Britain. They may
help the heroes, but they can’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">be</i>
the heroes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their time is past.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1eqEeY1-wcy1bg3yFjJmWAs7HXNIAPzj7Y0M4OZTPaLAFIMxsxhCnvX14V7u3VUUA1Zat_iMnStts8H2p6eSBJ1BgO2fE9vN_2g-yG4QfuVIN7wNrVutFtb9EUqRX08wdbNsh86o0YcKT/s1600/Jersey_Ses_Antiquit%25C3%25A9s_Ses_Institutions_Son_Histoire_1859_De_La_Croix_2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1eqEeY1-wcy1bg3yFjJmWAs7HXNIAPzj7Y0M4OZTPaLAFIMxsxhCnvX14V7u3VUUA1Zat_iMnStts8H2p6eSBJ1BgO2fE9vN_2g-yG4QfuVIN7wNrVutFtb9EUqRX08wdbNsh86o0YcKT/w640-h426/Jersey_Ses_Antiquit%25C3%25A9s_Ses_Institutions_Son_Histoire_1859_De_La_Croix_2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<br /> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Writing in 1913 Baring-Gould doesn’t even allow them the skills
to erect dolmens:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
They were not, I take it, the
Dolmen builders – these are supposed to have been giants because of the
gigantic character of their structures. They were a people who did not build at
all. They lived in caves, or if in the open, in huts made by bending branches
over and covering them with sods of turf. Consequently in folk-lore they are
always represented as either emerging from caverns or from under mounds. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;"><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is to lend to folklore an authority far beyond its scope. Most of the nineteenth century collectors of the fairy tales
and folk-lore which we all love so much were driven by nationalist
impulses and
racial pride. Each sought, as the Grimms did, the pure voice of their
own
‘folk’. As the century progressed what they in fact uncovered was the
inextricably interrelated nature of European folk- and fairy- lore.
Despite the
near-impossibility of claiming a particular version of any story as
‘original’,
some went on to claim an ultimate ‘Aryan’ heritage for such tales, going
so far
as to assert that the Aryan master-race originated in Scandinavia –
since,
clearly, the Nordic peoples were the tallest, blondest and bluest-eyed
of the
lot. Most of these gentlemen meant only to generate pride in what
they saw as their heritage. They did not recognise it as racism - the
term had not yet been coined - but racism it was. As folklorists, as
lovers of fairy tales, we need to be responsible for the ways we
interpret the stories we tell. </div><div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
While I was researching Mi’kmaq and Algonkin folk-lore for my children's fantasy 'Troll
Blood' (HarperCollins 2007), I came across a salutary reminder of how untrustworthy some 19<sup>th</sup>
century commentators can be when discussing origins: in a compilation called
‘The Algonquin Legends of New England’ (1884) I found the linguist and folklorist Charles Godfrey Leland with a bee in his bonnet about what he claimed <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had to be</i> a Norse influence on Mi’kmaq
stories. Having decided that the Mi’kmaq tales were in effect too ‘noble’ to
have been the product of Native American minds, he made the wildly unsupported
assertion that the Norsemen <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">must </i>have
told stories from the Eddas to the indigenous peoples of what is now
Newfoundland and New Brunswick: that the Mi’kmaq culture-hero Kluskap
(‘Glooscap’, in his account) ‘is the Norse god intensified … by far the
grandest and most Aryan-like character ever evolved from a savage mind’. I
almost dropped the book and was forced to regard it ever after as compromised
and unreliable. If there was any contact at all between Norsemen and the Native
American population in the 10<sup>th</sup> to 13<sup>th</sup> centuries (the
likely duration of occasional forays from treeless Greenland for much-needed
North American timber), the Greenlanders’ Saga suggests that it was violent and short. But
that’s not the point. The point is the mindset which says ‘this is too good to
have been created by [insert racial group]’. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMNU4nJok4EowguGTlIqdaOT_CiKQGUw6FeDRY5iOJwPgq4Mrib4FQBLTEm730r5P7YWwNgBOqr1DXbOZFYqk6wwG72dwK9bWVzlqsWkxAmMntqEJ85atPWDbNzanso_330t10y9XyBAp/s1600/Once_again_the_buzzing_fly_came_in_at_the_window_%25281901%2529_by_Arthur_Rackham.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJMNU4nJok4EowguGTlIqdaOT_CiKQGUw6FeDRY5iOJwPgq4Mrib4FQBLTEm730r5P7YWwNgBOqr1DXbOZFYqk6wwG72dwK9bWVzlqsWkxAmMntqEJ85atPWDbNzanso_330t10y9XyBAp/w464-h640/Once_again_the_buzzing_fly_came_in_at_the_window_%25281901%2529_by_Arthur_Rackham.jpg" width="464" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dwarf Eitri making the hammer Mjölnir.<br /><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Returning to the origin of pixies, elves and dwarfs – if
they’re not a folk-memory of some once co-existing shy and inferior race, what
are they?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Baring-Gould says, the
notion must have come from somewhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Well, Britain, Ireland and Northern Europe are dotted with burial mounds
and barrows. The Irish story of the love of Midir for Étain (the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tochmarc_%C3%89ta%C3%ADne">Tochmarc Etaine</a>) states plainly that
Midir is a king of the ‘elf-mounds’, the underworld, and the tale is full of
instances of death and rebirth. As I argue in an essay called ‘The
Lost Kings of Fairyland’ in <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Seven-Miles-Steel-Thistles-Reflections/dp/1911122045/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1469558430&sr=1-1&keywords=seven+miles+of+steel+thistles">my book of essays, 'Seven Miles of Steel Thistles</a>', fairies have long been associated
with the dead. In a fascinating essay ‘The Craftsman in the Mound’ (Folk-Lore
88, 1977) Lotte Motz discusses the figure of the dwarf as a smith and craftsman
dwelling in hills, mounds and mountains, who may be heard hammering away in
underground smithies. Pointing to the many instances of ‘legends of dead rulers
who reside, sometimes in a magic sleep and often with their retinue, within a
mountain’, she continues:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
A relation to the dead appears to
belong also to the dwarfs of the Icelandic documents; so the dwarf Alviss
[‘All-Knowing] is asked by Thor if he had been staying with the dead, and a
poem in a saga tells of a doughty sword which had been fashioned by ‘dead
dwarfs’. I would… assert that the mountain dwelling of the smith holds, rather
than temporary wealth, eternal treasures in its aspect as the mountain of the
dead. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As if to emphasise his deathly character, like a ghost
fleeing to its grave at cock-crow, the dwarf Alviss (the story is from the
Poetic Edda) cannot endure daylight but turns to stone at sunrise. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZha977nuFfGG6B7ZAM2jYAq3Kl0lHOgJn5vFihCgC0v9c3NbSzupauNIPTFPGrkIHiBFcsrioesQ-c8xgHIGE0TQwbCdqBIPhn4yimtqN3uXEdoa3PTIib3DK0SPJREOsBrJl6bR_3S-S/s1600/All-wise_answers_Thor.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZha977nuFfGG6B7ZAM2jYAq3Kl0lHOgJn5vFihCgC0v9c3NbSzupauNIPTFPGrkIHiBFcsrioesQ-c8xgHIGE0TQwbCdqBIPhn4yimtqN3uXEdoa3PTIib3DK0SPJREOsBrJl6bR_3S-S/s400/All-wise_answers_Thor.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘The day has
caught thee, dwarf!’ cries triumphant Thor, who like Gandalf in ‘The Hobbit’
has kept him talking…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
It's always been thought dangerous to see fairies. Like the Furies in Greek mythology, if you talked about them
at all, you used flattering circumlocutions – the Good People, the Seely Court,
the People of Peace. They came from the hollow hills, the land of death, and it was wise to be
frightened of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Maybe the
visions, the ‘legions of dwarfs’, the little green men or pixies which Baring-Gould and his
wife and child separately saw signified something more sinister than
folk-memories.</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">After all, </span>sunstroke can kill you.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Mw15GhIPHHW7Z6JP3jm0_jh1gMep09uV0KQE6wPOt1AHz12mBzTj68wgI8_Va6Ownoo1iq34C8MX7cHoGRONaE-4eafLRdvN42ML_AZP1pYAYozjWUrv3uZwuQgmjQ6HnJgtqwFfLQoHkUCRU5rOJ9zHp9rFYFAWsH3f6feuMpJIcVEyMARQMuPxjj1-/s400/John%20Batten,%20Pixies.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="265" data-original-width="400" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Mw15GhIPHHW7Z6JP3jm0_jh1gMep09uV0KQE6wPOt1AHz12mBzTj68wgI8_Va6Ownoo1iq34C8MX7cHoGRONaE-4eafLRdvN42ML_AZP1pYAYozjWUrv3uZwuQgmjQ6HnJgtqwFfLQoHkUCRU5rOJ9zHp9rFYFAWsH3f6feuMpJIcVEyMARQMuPxjj1-/w400-h265/John%20Batten,%20Pixies.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal">
<span><u>Picture credits: </u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Pixie encounter - W. Measom, 1853</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span>Nisse eating barley porridge - <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Tomtar#/media/File:Julekort_med_nisse_og_gr%C3%B8t_%2818886771365%29.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span>The dwarves Brokkr and Eitri making the hammer Mjölnir - Arthur Rackham - <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Once_again_the_buzzing_fly_came_in_at_the_window_%281901%29_by_Arthur_Rackham.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span>Alvissmal - Alviss answers Thor - <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:All-wise_answers_Thor.jpg">Wikimedia Commons </a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span></span></div>
<span><span>The Celtic Vanguard - <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ridpath%27s_history_of_the_world;_being_an_account_of_the_ethnic_origin,_primitive_estate,_early_migrations,_social_conditions_and_present_promise_of_the_principal_families_of_men_%281897%29_%2814803456303%29.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a> </span><br />
<span>Dolmen, Jersey, 1859 - <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jersey_Ses_Antiquit%C3%A9s_Ses_Institutions_Son_Histoire_1859_De_La_Croix_2.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a></span></span><div>Pixies - John D Batten - <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Page_83_illustration_in_More_English_Fairy_Tales.png">Wikimedia Commons</a></div><div><br /><p><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></p></div>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-7287877881235799042024-01-08T06:45:00.000-08:002024-01-08T06:45:01.083-08:00Perilous Voyages<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPuXOXxnwmjV5HwPIEBpDjM9g47XjEScJwl1-Zs-eu4xfNSZQmzkhmHhdT_Tuys-naOirOH9MLIxVa6nFmftrP97Wa4ShsfLooCr9sjuBsMUWtiyP1D4UkTKh1zncRaMcsdGkZ311LGwVz4ME222m9RDYvAJkM07LDxi4UW9b5n1bup4NUipGVs2SilDwX/s895/Ford_Madox_Brown_-_The_Last_of_England_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="895" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPuXOXxnwmjV5HwPIEBpDjM9g47XjEScJwl1-Zs-eu4xfNSZQmzkhmHhdT_Tuys-naOirOH9MLIxVa6nFmftrP97Wa4ShsfLooCr9sjuBsMUWtiyP1D4UkTKh1zncRaMcsdGkZ311LGwVz4ME222m9RDYvAJkM07LDxi4UW9b5n1bup4NUipGVs2SilDwX/w572-h640/Ford_Madox_Brown_-_The_Last_of_England_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" width="572" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">All voyages are voyages
of discovery; all voyages are dangerous. Even in these days when cruise liners are
thought of as little more than floating hotels, disaster sometimes strikes. Departing
on a voyage is already a little death, a farewell to loved ones who may never
be seen again, either because of the dangers of the passage or because the travellers
mean never to return. To the oppressed and poor of Europe in the nineteenth
century, America seemed a promised land, a western paradise of plenty and
equality. But they had to leave behind all that was familiar if they were to
make a better life across the sea. As a traditional Irish emigrant ballad <i>The
Green Fields of Canada </i>says:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Oh my father is old and my mother’s quite feeble<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">To leave their own country it grieves their hearts sore:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The tears in great drops down their cheeks they are rolling<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">To think they must die upon some foreign shore.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">But what matter to me where my bones may be buried<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">If in peace and contentment I can spend my life?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Oh the green fields of Canada, they daily are blooming:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">It’s there I’ll put an end to my miseries and strife.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Anyone who’s stood at the seashore and watched the sun going down over the waves may have wondered
what it would be like to seek lands beyond the sunset. Voyages have been associated
with Otherworld journeys since the days of Gilgamesh (second millennium BCE). When
his beloved friend Enkidu dies, Gilgamesh becomes afraid of death. He sets off
to the end of the world – to the mountains where the sun rises and sets – and
makes the dark journey through a tunnel called the Path of the Sun, to emerge in
a garden of jewelled trees. Here he begs the goddess Siduri for advice on how
to cross the ocean to find Uta-napishti, hero of the Flood, who was granted
immortality by the gods. Siduri tells him to find Ur-shanabi the ferryman, who
with his crew of Stone Ones can take him over the Waters of Death. The
enterprise is about as successful as most Otherworld journeys and Gilgamesh
learns the usual lesson, that death is inevitable and had better be accepted.
It’s fascinating to find the motif of the ferryman, and of the goddess in the
paradisal garden, in this four-thousand year old text. The ferryman Charon, the
Garden of the Hesperides, the island of Circe – how long has humanity been
imagining them?</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYZYN4wKc4i5-cbsHXoeK7fG_6NHxS2lKTdkttfmzSmvUCKq5HfEc0DMaL7ANTkw90FGWtzPQwPDluR4KhpspLLFS38RRtl9ex_guFMxUDwDC7MsCHc1GDyTLs21EX7_wrzrjVca9OxQ7jIsxeceYZPIy1QJLrT8ZteSMX2CbssaTtLCPtjlV1yKv3tVpx/s1643/Scandi%20Petroglyphs%20Bohuslan%20001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="987" data-original-width="1643" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYZYN4wKc4i5-cbsHXoeK7fG_6NHxS2lKTdkttfmzSmvUCKq5HfEc0DMaL7ANTkw90FGWtzPQwPDluR4KhpspLLFS38RRtl9ex_guFMxUDwDC7MsCHc1GDyTLs21EX7_wrzrjVca9OxQ7jIsxeceYZPIy1QJLrT8ZteSMX2CbssaTtLCPtjlV1yKv3tVpx/w640-h384/Scandi%20Petroglyphs%20Bohuslan%20001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p>Voyages and suns, and perhaps death, are hinted at in Scandinavian rock engravings dating to any
time between 1500 and 400 BCE, which show ships embellished with sun discs and
spirals. The figure above is taken from <i>The Chariot of the Sun and other Rites and Symbols of the Northern Bronze Age</i> by Peter Gelling and Hilda Ellis Davidson. It depicts rock art from Stora Backa, Brastad, Bohuslan, Sweden, and the authors write that the 'horizontal phallic figure' lying on his back low down in the group is 'probably to be thought of as lying on the ship immediately below him. There is a smaller figure which seems, as it were, to rise out of his body': this may be a mourner, or it may be his spirit. The entire group is a cluster of animals, men, ships and sun-wheels, large and small. </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The association of ships and suns is exemplified in the Egyptian
sun god Re with his two boats: the sun boat or Mandjet (Boat of Millions of
Years) which carries him from east to west across the sky accompanied by
various other deities and personifications, and the night boat, the Mesesket,
on which the god travels through the perilous underworld from west to east, to
rise again in the morning. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Push off, and sitting well in order smite<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Of all the western stars, until I die.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">And see the great Achilles, whom we knew…</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">So speaks the aged
Ulysses to his companions in Tennyson’s poem. Unwilling ‘to rust unburnished’
and die by his own hearth, he sets out for the lands beyond the sunset, home of
the heroic dead. Yet in the <i>Odyssey</i>, Odysseus has already sailed to the
Otherworld. Leaving the island of Circe he reaches the shores of Hades and the
groves of Persephone, fringed with black poplars, where he encounters many
spirits of the dead, including his own mother whom he vainly tries to embrace:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">…Three times <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I started towards her, and my heart was urgent to hold her,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">and three times she fluttered out of my hands like a shadow<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">or a dream, and the sorrow sharpened at the heart within me<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">.<o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The Odyssey of Homer,
tr. Richmond Lattimore, Harper & Row 1965</span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUlwOMW6yl24yVzSXovEjn8c7jspA1wXieBWmaEVbIjLM8p2EqHM1Zj8DmC2Ok_-q0ZYNesQrR124gMyBBHvRDT0YdMNSLcrZ-wiZ9xmqi9CfmMi7774jy4rn3yZ-diICuvu-HV1ntwT3URqoc-_V0P0llsXmmOMYHZcl1IY1L-HKqx9W4rTJfiKXoDFj/s4854/Charon,_attributed_to_the_Tymbos_painter,_ca_500_-_450_BC,_Ashmolean_Museum.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4854" data-original-width="2808" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUlwOMW6yl24yVzSXovEjn8c7jspA1wXieBWmaEVbIjLM8p2EqHM1Zj8DmC2Ok_-q0ZYNesQrR124gMyBBHvRDT0YdMNSLcrZ-wiZ9xmqi9CfmMi7774jy4rn3yZ-diICuvu-HV1ntwT3URqoc-_V0P0llsXmmOMYHZcl1IY1L-HKqx9W4rTJfiKXoDFj/w370-h640/Charon,_attributed_to_the_Tymbos_painter,_ca_500_-_450_BC,_Ashmolean_Museum.jpg" width="370" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">In this beautiful red-figure oil jar, we see Charon the ferryman welcoming the soul of a young man into his ferry. Charon gently extends his hand towards a fluttering soul as delicate as a mayfly. It is an </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 18.6667px;">extraordinarily tender gesture.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 18.6667px;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">On his death, the Norse
god Baldr is laid by the other gods on a pyre in his ship Ringhorn, which is set
alight and pushed out to sea. The Old English poem <i>Beowulf </i>tells how the
hero-king Scyld Shefing was laid with many treasures in ‘a boat with a ringed
neck’ and sent to sea, where – <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Men
under heaven’s <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">shifting
skies, though skilled in counsel,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">cannot
say surely who unshipped that cargo.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Beowulf, tr. Michael Alexander, Penguin
1973</span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 36pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpLast" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ship burials occur all
over the world (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ship_burial#cite_note-8">for more information visit this link</a>) </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 18.6667px;">–</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> throughout all of Europe, Asia and South East Asia. In
some cases people were buried in boats or in boat-shaped coffins, while others
in burials which reference a sea-journey, such as this beautiful burial jar –
the ‘Manunggul Jar’ – found in the Philippines’ Tabon Caves, and dated 890-710
BCE:</span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm 12pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The boatman […] is steering rather than paddling the “ship”. The
mast of the boat was not recovered. Both figures appear to be wearing bands
tied over the crowns of their heads and under their jaws; a pattern still found
in burial practices among the indigenous peoples in the Southern Philippines.
The manner in which the hands of the front figure are folded across the chest
is also a widespread practice in the islands when arranging the corpse. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm 12pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The Tabon Caves, Robert B
Fox, Manila: National Museum, 1970</span></i><i><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm 12pt; mso-add-space: auto;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHp6Qxlvpp4X6RIxNup-4dtfPCo9W_h26sktbpMsqwmFoaevswKFYArRhFD1dZbHJLbekGsYrIlw4pQ-WejK9rPKnYjpwoI6znsAZtVSD3aRDN6TTHqA1YfzPz1c2gxmf02IT3VIC_X3C8lnWKMs2lifCG-GMmY-lD3VRRuo527DRx8vrlgz7SSYwsyL1/s899/800px-Manunggul_Jar.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHp6Qxlvpp4X6RIxNup-4dtfPCo9W_h26sktbpMsqwmFoaevswKFYArRhFD1dZbHJLbekGsYrIlw4pQ-WejK9rPKnYjpwoI6znsAZtVSD3aRDN6TTHqA1YfzPz1c2gxmf02IT3VIC_X3C8lnWKMs2lifCG-GMmY-lD3VRRuo527DRx8vrlgz7SSYwsyL1/w356-h400/800px-Manunggul_Jar.jpg" width="356" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm 12pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">In
Northern Europe, high-status people were sometimes buried in their ships, like the king or warrior laid to rest in the <a href="https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/visit/suffolk/sutton-hoo/royal-burial-ground-at-sutton-hoo">East Anglian Sutton Hoo ship burial</a>,
circa 700 CE, and the two women in the famous Norwegian <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oseberg_Ship">‘Oseberg ship’,</a> thought
to have been buried in or after 834 CE. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The marvellous Welsh poem
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Prieddeu Annwfn</i> or ‘The Spoils of
Annwfn’ (dated by linguistic evidence to around 900 CE) tells of a raid by
Arthur in his ship Prydwen on the Welsh underworld, Annwfn. Most of the eight
stanzas end with a variation on the recurrent line: ‘Except seven, none
returned’. By ordinary standards the expedition sounds disastrous, but this is
no ordinary poem. Fateful, gloomy, mysterious, we gain a vision of a venture by
sea to an Otherworld <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>mound or island
where a pearl-rimmed cauldron full of the magical life-giving mead of poetry is
guarded in a four-peaked glass fortress with a strong door.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The hero Bran (keeper
of another magical cauldron which restores the dead to life) is the subject of
one of the traditional Old Irish voyage tales known as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">immrama,</i> in which a hero or saint sets out for an Otherworld,
stopping at numerous fantastic or miraculous islands along the way. These islands
have a more sunlit appeal than that of Annwfn: Bran is invited by a mysterious
woman to seek for the beautiful <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Emain
Ablach</i> or ‘Isle of Women’ where there is peace and plenty and no one is
ever sick or dies. He puts to sea with twenty-seven companions and three curraghs
– nine men in each boat. Eventually reaching the island, Bran’s boat is drawn
into port by a ball of magical thread which the queen tosses to him. Each man
is paired with a beautiful woman, Bran sharing the bed of the queen, and there they remain, unaware how much time is passing in the real world,
until Nechtan son of Collbran becomes homesick and Bran resolves to return home.
The queen warns against it, and especially against setting foot on land. When they reach Ireland, so many years have passed that Bran’s name is an ancient legend, and when Nechtan leaps out of the curragh he crumbles
to dust. Seeing this, Bran and his companions sail away (presumably back to the
Island of Women) and never return.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The hero Maelduin's is a longer voyage and a
happier homecoming: he's advised by a hermit that he will return home only once he has forgiven his father’s murderer. This he finally does, and makes safe
landfall. But on the long voyage he and his companions see such wonders as the
Isle of Ants ‘every one of them the size of a foal’; an island
where demon riders run a giant horse race; an island of a miraculous apple tree
whose fruit satisfy the whole crew for ‘forty nights’; an island of fiery pigs, an island of a little cat; an
island where giant smiths strike away on anvils and hurl a huge lump of red-hot
iron after the boat (surely a volcanic eruption?) so that ‘the whole of the sea
boiled up’. Here’s a lovely passage:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The Silver-Meshed Net<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">They went on then till they found a great silver pillar;
four sides it had, and the width of each of the sides was two strokes of an
oar; and there was not one sod of earth about it, but only the endless ocean;
and they could not see what way it was below, and they could not see what way
the top of it was because of its height. There was a silver net from the top of
it that spread out a long way on every side, and the curragh went under sail
through a mesh of that net.</span><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Diuran, one of
Maeldune’s companions, strikes the net with his spear to obtain a piece:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Do not destroy the net,” said Maeldune, “for we are
looking at the work of great men.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It
is for the praise of God’s name I am doing it,” said Diuran, “The way my story
will be better believed; and it is to the altar of Ardmacha I will give this
mesh of the net if I get back to Ireland.” Two ounces and a half now was the
weight when it was measured after in Ardmacha. They heard then a voice from the
top of the pillar very loud and clear, but they did not know in what strange
language it was speaking or what word it said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The Voyage of Maeldune,
‘A Book of Saint and Wonders’, tr. Lady Gregory, Dun Emer Press 1906</span></i><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I love the way these
stories delight in the marvellous inventions of God (or the poet) and the wondrous
things men find when they set out to cross the illimitable sea.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Stationed on the
western edge of Northern Europe, the Irish were well positioned to wonder what
might be beyond the watery horizon. Following a dream of ‘a beautiful island
with angels serving upon it,’ the 6<sup>th</sup> century Saint Brendan set off
into the Atlantic in search of Paradise. In a hide boat, a curragh, with twelve
companions he spent years wandering the ocean from one marvellous island to
another, including a landing upon the back of an amiable giant fish which
allowed him to celebrate Easter there. All nature is included in Brendan’s Christianity:
when he says Mass, even the fishes attend </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 18.6667px;">‘</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">and came around the
ship in a heap, so that they could hardly see the water for fishes. But when
the mass was ended each one of them turned himself and swam away, and they saw
them no more.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 18.6667px;">’</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">After years of sailing,
and coming near the borders of a hell of ice and fire which sounds suspiciously
like Iceland, Brendan and his companions reached the Land of Promise, the
blessed shore.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">…clear and lightsome, and the trees full of fruit on every
bough… and the air neither hot nor cold but always one way, and the delight
they found there could never be told. Then they came to a river that they could
not cross but they could see beyond it the country that had no bounds to its
beauty.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The Voyage of Brendan,
‘A Book of Saint and Wonders’, tr. Lady Gregory, Dun Emer Press, 1906</span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The <i>immrama</i> combine
delight and discovery as well as spiritual journeys. And in fact it was the practice
of many early monks to set up their cells on remote islands such as the Arans. Saint Cuthbert on Inner Farne would pray all night, standing in the
sea. Was it only for the solitude, or was the sea crossing itself a holy act
which could bring the traveller to the shore of another world? Even before Christianity,
were islands – liminally placed between earth and sea, like Lindisfarne, Iona,
St Michael’s Mount – already considered holy? And it's worth considering that the rite of baptism is a
passing through water to symbolic new life.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The age-old tradition
of crossing water to the otherworld recurs in Thomas Malory's <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Le Morte D’Arthur</i> when Arthur is taken away in a barge to the Isle
of Avalon ‘to heal him of his grievous wound’. And he is not the only character to make such a
post-mortem or near-post-mortem voyage: the Fair Maid of Astolat, dead Elaine, drifts
down the Thames to Westminster in her black barge. </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_WZQce6mVm7l1L8VU3-Y4Q3IXDaLvsFbWlsRatUn0uxmkMlYmEtTmrf_o68-rnPH4d8wiG_UAjNMiJkDIqisZEXUrgQFpyNdtiTKRhL6QYYX6igBGosfsEK7X3fEvZirwfaWnEnOiRT1VdmNkCuSUb4WyFqasa1n-slGKTW0kEETJVMMkrKTo94xIaUMi/s1280/Sophie_Anderson_-_Elaine_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="845" data-original-width="1280" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_WZQce6mVm7l1L8VU3-Y4Q3IXDaLvsFbWlsRatUn0uxmkMlYmEtTmrf_o68-rnPH4d8wiG_UAjNMiJkDIqisZEXUrgQFpyNdtiTKRhL6QYYX6igBGosfsEK7X3fEvZirwfaWnEnOiRT1VdmNkCuSUb4WyFqasa1n-slGKTW0kEETJVMMkrKTo94xIaUMi/w640-h422/Sophie_Anderson_-_Elaine_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">During the quest for the
Holy Grail, Sir Percival’s sister dies, having given a dish of her blood in order to heal
a lady. Perceval lays his sister’s body... </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">in a barge, and covered it with black silk; and so the wind
arose, and drove the barge from land, and all the knights beheld it till it was
out of their sight.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Soon after (in Book
XVII Chapter 13), Lancelot is woken from sleep by a visionary voice which
commands:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Lancelot, arise up and take thine armour, and enter into
the first ship that thou shalt find’. And when he heard these words he start up
and saw a great clearness about him. And then he lift up his hand and blessed
him, and took his arms and made him ready; and so by adventure he came by a
strand and found a ship the which was without sail or oar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">And as soon as he was within that ship
there felt he the most sweetness that he ever felt, and he was fulfilled with
all thing that he thought on or desired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then he said, ‘Fair sweet Father, Jesu Christ, I wot not in what joy I
am, for this joy passeth all earthly joys that ever I was in.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">And so in this joy he laid him down… and
slept till day. And when he awoke he found there a fair bed, and therein lying
a gentlewoman dead, the which was Sir Perceval’s sister.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">This unsteerable ship
of the dead conveys Lancelot to a castle where he will encounter that ultimate
symbol of unknowable holiness, the Grail. Putting to sea in a boat without sail
or oars – or for that matter in an overloaded inflatable run by traffickers in
the middle of one of the world’s busiest shipping lanes – is to cast yourself upon
the guidance of God. Such faith must be in the hearts of many of the brave, desperate
people we call migrants.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpnWhKXJHOCA90Gh0WpNN3t3N30KvCXxRqoR4xa5zWLUm6ZBUUiPzkANzUiZi1Yw8AdWInC3g-mxWEQrdTru0DFXjjEDUT_QY3BHHAHM4S4gTMOURBm4yKqwO3P0J1jqvpcWIS-4Pa04kGGLk2tXjD-Bw8esNnyshOjecwMqK8csKKNkc3MLI8mtS7wJk/s512/N830234_The-Wife-of-Ushers-Well.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="392" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpnWhKXJHOCA90Gh0WpNN3t3N30KvCXxRqoR4xa5zWLUm6ZBUUiPzkANzUiZi1Yw8AdWInC3g-mxWEQrdTru0DFXjjEDUT_QY3BHHAHM4S4gTMOURBm4yKqwO3P0J1jqvpcWIS-4Pa04kGGLk2tXjD-Bw8esNnyshOjecwMqK8csKKNkc3MLI8mtS7wJk/w490-h640/N830234_The-Wife-of-Ushers-Well.jpg" width="490" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In ballads too, as in
life, to sail the sea is to face danger and possible death. The eponymous Wife
of Usher’s Well sends her three sons ‘to sail upon the sea’. Barely three weeks
later the news comes that they’ve drowned and the grieving mother tries to
bring them back by cursing the elements that caused their death:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I wish the winds may never cease<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Nor fashes <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">[disturbances]</i>
in the flood<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Till my three sons come hame to me<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In earthly flesh and blood.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The Wife of Usher’s
Well, Oxford Book of Ballads, 1969</span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">So they do come home,
at Martinmas, the liminal time between autumn and winter ‘when nights are long
and mirk’. But their hats are made of the birch bark that grows on the trees of
Paradise, and they can stay only one night.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I’ll set sail of
silver and I’ll steer towards the sun’, a girl threatens in the folk song <i>As
Sylvie Was Walking</i>, for then ‘my false love will weep for me after I’m gone.’ As
for the foolish lady who betrays her lover and runs away to sea with a
plausible suitor who has promised to show her ‘where the white lilies grow/On the
banks of Italie’ – he turns out to be <i>The Daemon Lover </i>of the title, who</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> halfway over conjures up a storm to sink the ship, crying, ‘I’ll show you where the white lilies
grow/At the bottom of the sea!’</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Over countless millennia
voyage tales have explored the marvels of life and the mystery of death. We humans
have always embarked upon hopeful voyages, seeking a new world, a better life, a
better self. But the tales acknowledge that we cannot always be in control. After
the fall of Troy, Odysseus wanted to go home, but instead he spent ten long
years wandering the Mediterranean, exposed to storms, shipwrecks and the whims
of the gods. Still, he made it in the end despite the odds. Death is a journey
we’re all going to take, but maybe not yet, not this time, although the
ferryman is always waiting. One day we <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">will
</i>leave our friends behind, set sail of silver, steer for the sun and cross
the ocean to the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">One day… one day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoRK9VisPrGejHciy-9EmKZNBPAjbVNpgge6JLMAV72In3VSv4g7nq5T11utQbMOtcLPKAa-KwWltqw7fTu3p4TeAumvQEjysz-6YRAr_lq_s8Zj0-xwMbt-cichJXjchhmH6RrGQ2ZQwXodgZahSWhqF_o5dkNqDLYci3RN1LrM9HRcFFFj4q1O5b1jB/s987/petroglyph%20ship%20001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="212" data-original-width="987" height="69" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoRK9VisPrGejHciy-9EmKZNBPAjbVNpgge6JLMAV72In3VSv4g7nq5T11utQbMOtcLPKAa-KwWltqw7fTu3p4TeAumvQEjysz-6YRAr_lq_s8Zj0-xwMbt-cichJXjchhmH6RrGQ2ZQwXodgZahSWhqF_o5dkNqDLYci3RN1LrM9HRcFFFj4q1O5b1jB/s320/petroglyph%20ship%20001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><p></p><div><u><br /></u></div><div><u><span style="font-size: x-small;">Picture credits</span></u></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">'The Last of England' - by Ford Madox Ford 1852 <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Last_of_England_%28painting%29">Wikipedia</a></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Figure from 'The Chariot of the Sun' - by Peter Gelling & Hilde Ellis Davidson, Aldine, 1972</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Red-figure oil jar attributed to the 'Tymbos painter', 500-450 BCE Ashmoleon Musuem Oxford Photo by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charon#/media/File:Attic_Red_Figure_(White_Ground)_Lekythos_with_Charon,_attributed_to_the_Tymbos_painter,_ca_500_-_450_BC,_Ashmolean_Museum,_Oxford,_UK_(22681344331).jpg">Carole Raddato Wikimedia</a></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Manunggal Jar - Photo by <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=33685846">Philip Maise - Wikipedia</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Fair Maid of Astolat - by Sophie Anderson, 1870 Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool <a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/33/Sophie_Anderson_Elaineor_%28The_Lily_Maid_of_Astolat%29_1870.jpg">Wikimedia </a></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Wife of Usher's Well - by H.M. Brock 1934</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Petroglyph - 'The Chariot of the Sun' - by Peter Gelling & Hilde Ellis Davidson, Aldine, 1972</span></div><div><br /></div>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-41234726131796578412023-12-01T00:54:00.000-08:002023-12-01T01:07:09.949-08:00The Poem of Finn mac Cumhaill<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4DnhhKJ5YNKIM_2pZqXsoH_3pZgKZKFPd0bgNLgA2AVolm2QDJvutz0Fl9EaXueSfj4JoCVeWWdCLe6iKI1-GX4WaBFd_7UJkDpXg9tHbM4z71vQ843A9ma0fiateHHfBI6DjcEn0_ooLmC4aYevr10t7H1cunjgSh2OlOOdgdlPp0hCbvVqX9BBrbMst/s640/Book%20Of%20Kells%20Horseman.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="617" data-original-width="640" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4DnhhKJ5YNKIM_2pZqXsoH_3pZgKZKFPd0bgNLgA2AVolm2QDJvutz0Fl9EaXueSfj4JoCVeWWdCLe6iKI1-GX4WaBFd_7UJkDpXg9tHbM4z71vQ843A9ma0fiateHHfBI6DjcEn0_ooLmC4aYevr10t7H1cunjgSh2OlOOdgdlPp0hCbvVqX9BBrbMst/w400-h386/Book%20Of%20Kells%20Horseman.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #274e13;">This wonderful poem attributed to Finn was
translated by Lady Augusta Gregory in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gods and Fighting Men</i> (John Murray, 1904), and is part of the medieval tradition of poetry in praise of spring and summer (in comparison to the harshness of winter). As to the age of the poem, the Fenian Cycle which
relates the deeds of Finn mac Cumhaill dates in written form to the 8<sup>th</sup>
century. The poem follows a brief account of how Finn received his poetic powers (by accident). <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #274e13;">The prophetic, wisdom-giving water of the well of the moon, guarded by three women of the
supernatural Tuatha de Danaan, reminds me of the well or spring of the dwarf Mimir
in Norse mythology, from which Odin drank to obtain wisdom and understanding, giving one of his eyes for the privilege; also to the spring of Urđr (fate), guarded
by the Norns, three maidens whose daily task was to water Yggdrasil the
World-Tree with its pure waters. The accidental splash that gets into young
Finn’s mouth comes in addition to a previous adventure when, roasting the
Salmon of Knowledge for the poet Finegas, he burns his thumb while ‘putting
down a blister that rose on the skin’, and sucks the burn to cool it: ‘from
that time Finn had the knowledge that came from the nuts of the nine hazels of
wisdom that grow beside the well that is below the sea.’ A similar story is
told in the <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><i>Mabinogion </i>about</span> the Welsh
bard Taliesin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Whoever
wrote the poem clearly knew and loved landscape and nature.
We’re there with him (or her), hearing the rustling of the rushes and the song of the
cuckoo, the murmur of </span></span><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 18.6667px;">‘</span><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 36pt;">the sad restless sea</span><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 18.6667px;">’</span><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 36pt;">: a paean of joy to ‘May without fault, of beautiful colours.’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4n52T00vz35ajGTNe-t0PESzY-9I6mAtDzCtdiupdZutwFBnNayoKxuPR2HY6CpNVZr9XPOJYnyyxBuqpgsBfopVJMKiF-4zgL93L6zjUCf1J3ANEFjN6ZjNINpsk9rzbQYL7-LoCtEXmj2pAYG4KtOGfrMPfpuTwymOUG61aWYdIVS91wXLWQUNIqGBG/s500/header5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="140" data-original-width="500" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4n52T00vz35ajGTNe-t0PESzY-9I6mAtDzCtdiupdZutwFBnNayoKxuPR2HY6CpNVZr9XPOJYnyyxBuqpgsBfopVJMKiF-4zgL93L6zjUCf1J3ANEFjN6ZjNINpsk9rzbQYL7-LoCtEXmj2pAYG4KtOGfrMPfpuTwymOUG61aWYdIVS91wXLWQUNIqGBG/s320/header5.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">There was a well of the
moon belonging to Beag, son of Buan, of the Tuatha de Danaan, and whoever would
drink out of it would get wisdom, and after a second drink he would get the
gift of foretelling. And the three daughters of Beag, son of Buan, had charge
of the well, and they would not part with a vessel of it for anything less than
red gold. And one day Finn chanced to be hunting in the rushes near the well,
and the three women ran to hinder him from coming to it, and one of them, that
had a vessel of the water in her hand, threw it at him to stop him, and a share
of the water went into his mouth. And from that out he had all the knowledge
that the water of that well could give. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And he learned the three ways of poetry; and this is the
poem he made to show he had got his learning well:– <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“It is the month of May
is the pleasant time; its face is beautiful; the blackbird sings his full song,
the living wood is his holding, the cuckoos are singing and ever singing; there
is a welcome before the brightness of the summer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Summer is lessening the rivers, the swift horses are
looking for the pool; the heath spreads out its long hair, the weak white
bog-down grows. A wildness comes on the heart of the deer; the sad restless sea
is asleep.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Bees with their little strength carry a load reaped from
the flowers; the cattle go up muddy to the mountains; the ant has a good full
feast.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“The harp of the woods is playing music; there is colour on
the hills and a haze on the full lakes, and entire peace upon every sail.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“The corncrake is speaking, a loud-voiced poet; the high
lonely waterfall is singing a welcome to the warm pool, the talking of the
rushes has begun.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“The light swallows are darting; the loudness of music is
around the hill; the fat soft mast is budding; there is grass on the trembling
bogs.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“The bog is as dark as the feathers of the raven; the
cuckoo makes a loud welcome; the speckled salmon is leaping; as strong is the
leaping of the swift fighting man.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “The man is gaining; the girl is in her comely growing
power; every wood is without fault from the top to the ground, and every wide
good plain.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “A flock of birds pitches in the meadow; there are sounds
in the green fields, there is in them a clear rushing stream.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “There is a hot desire on you for the racing of horses;
twisted holly makes a leash for the hound; a bright spear has been shot into
the earth, and flag-flower is golden under it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “A weak little lasting bird is singing at the top of his
voice; the lark is singing clear tidings; May without fault, of beautiful
colours.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“I have another story
for you; the ox is lowing, the winter is creeping in, the summer is gone. High
and cold the wind, low the sun, cries are about it; the sea is quarrelling. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> “The ferns are reddened and their shape is hidden; the cry of
the wild goose is heard; the cold has caught the wings of the birds; it is the
time of ice-frost, hard, unhappy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; line-height: 150%;"><u>Picture credit:</u></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; line-height: 150%;">Horseman: detail from the Book of Kells, circa 800 AD: Trinity College Library MS A. I 58. <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Book_Of_Kells_Horseman.png">(Wikimedia Commons)</a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><br /><p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-71820762850109609162023-11-18T09:28:00.000-08:002023-11-18T09:28:56.257-08:00'The Tale of the Three Weird Sisters: Lost Fairy Tales' for the Folklore Podcast<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Z5d8rATmRUTxIzi4erB6mCk75YVPbQiuP-hYkI4wkOqoU_MFamcwoP-nOBgbwO7MD3gK5pcU07XxA90102HIyssj0oW-8KVZv6cUOmB_u6llg7xj-zE1bqCBhYWZbnCESNioTG5f4Pc3sjVJPV2n47pF2gJwToe-MLiOl5CQkCHdjAfpg9tjiIMFXzxv/s584/Folklore%20Podcast.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="439" data-original-width="584" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Z5d8rATmRUTxIzi4erB6mCk75YVPbQiuP-hYkI4wkOqoU_MFamcwoP-nOBgbwO7MD3gK5pcU07XxA90102HIyssj0oW-8KVZv6cUOmB_u6llg7xj-zE1bqCBhYWZbnCESNioTG5f4Pc3sjVJPV2n47pF2gJwToe-MLiOl5CQkCHdjAfpg9tjiIMFXzxv/w640-h482/Folklore%20Podcast.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-poiln3 r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.03); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1419; display: inline; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-overflow: unset; white-space-collapse: preserve;">This is just to give notice that a week today, on Saturday 25th November at 8pm GMT, I'll be giving an online lecture for the wonderful Folklore Podcast</span><span style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.03); color: #0f1419; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> about my search for 'Lost Fairy Tales of 16th & 17th Century England and Scotland'. I'll be talking about fairy tales of which we know nothing but the names, others which have survived by the skin of their teeth, and some which can be inferred from references in poems and plays. It's been a lot of fun to research! </span></p><p><span style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.03); color: #0f1419; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Here's the link to all the lectures: if you'd like to find mine, just scroll down.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0f1419; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Segoe UI, Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="http://www.thefolklorepodcast.com/lectures.html">http://www.thefolklorepodcast.com/lectures.html</a></span></span></p><p><br /></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-76410950715400736482023-11-16T04:01:00.000-08:002023-11-16T04:01:15.930-08:00Spells of Sleep, Enchanted Apple Boughs<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9cNd7hmhEtfvfqMZw2klUVHoO52lVHv4a7oVEfivfBqvzbouPwUqY-96FJ3Hh2oBUx6Dkyo4nQgizGZ6YU7MHb-H2S6c38hVAe6Se-I_t-2Ib3eLXAYRj_n4JP-Y2aKhMjNYTEUkjBlr5PZKktPmQtU6yR8JdPkwpkxGh5_rQEHo52rrnBNWXN-EHdybh/s510/Voyage%20of%20Bran.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="510" data-original-width="510" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9cNd7hmhEtfvfqMZw2klUVHoO52lVHv4a7oVEfivfBqvzbouPwUqY-96FJ3Hh2oBUx6Dkyo4nQgizGZ6YU7MHb-H2S6c38hVAe6Se-I_t-2Ib3eLXAYRj_n4JP-Y2aKhMjNYTEUkjBlr5PZKktPmQtU6yR8JdPkwpkxGh5_rQEHo52rrnBNWXN-EHdybh/w400-h400/Voyage%20of%20Bran.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Following my
series of posts on 'Enchanted Sleep and Sleepers' (see links:<a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2023/08/enchanted-sleep-and-sleepers-1.html"> <b>#1</b></a><b>, <a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2023/09/enchanted-sleep-and-sleepers-2.html">#2</a> and <a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2023/09/enchanted-sleep-and-sleepers-3.html">#3</a></b>), here is a sort of appendix: three tales
from Irish mythology. The Fenian Cycle tells how Finn son of Cumhail once tried
to wed a woman of the Sidhe. He was hunting on the mountain Bearnas Mor
with his companions of the Fianna, when a great wild pig turned on their hounds and killed most of
them. Then Finn’s hound Bran got a grip on it. It began to scream, and at the
noise a tall man came out of the hill. He asked Finn to let the pig go. Finn agreed, and the man led them into the hill of the Sidhe and struck
the pig with his Druid rod. At once, it changed into a beautiful young
woman whom he called Scathach, the Shadowy One. <a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2023/06/the-woman-warrior-who-taught-cuchulain.html">Whether this is the same Scathach who in the Ulster Cycle teaches warrior-craft to Cuchulain on the Isle of Skye, I do not know. Maybe!</a> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">T</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">he extracts that follow are from Lady Augusta Gregory’s translations in </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Gods and Fighting Men, </i><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">1904.)</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">And the tall man made a great feast for the Fianna, and then
Finn asked the young girl in marriage, and the tall man, her father, said he
would give her to him that very night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But when
night came on, Scathach asked for a harp to be brought to her. One string it
had of iron, and one of bronze, and one of silver. And when the iron string
would be played, it would set all the hosts of the world crying and ever
crying; and when the bright bronze string would be played, it would set them
all laughing from the one day to the same hour on the morrow; and when the
silver string would be played, all the men of the whole world would fall into a
long sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And it is
the sleepy silver string the Shadowy One played upon, till Finn and Bran and
all his people were in their heavy sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And when
they awoke at the rising of the sun on the morrow, it is outside on the
mountain of Bearnas they were, where they first saw the wild pig.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">In another legend, Bran
son of Febal also falls asleep to Otherworldly music:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">One day, in the neighbourhood of his stronghold, Bran went
about alone, when he heard music behind him. As often as he looked back, ‘twas
still behind him the music was. At last he fell asleep at the music, such was
its sweetness. When he awoke from his sleep, he saw close by him a branch of
silver with white blossoms, nor was it easy to distinguish the bloom from that
branch.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Bran takes the branch
into his royal hall, where a strange woman appears and sings:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">A branch of the apple-tree from Emain<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I bring, like those one knows:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Twigs of white silver are on it,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Crystal brows with blossoms.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">After many verses praising
the beauty of her home, Emain, the Land of Women, she takes the branch from
Bran and vanishes, commanding him to follow her across the sea. Bran sets out with three coracles of nine men each. On the voyage they meet the sea-god
Manannan mac Lir driving his chariot over the waves; the god explains that what to Bran and his men seems to be the wild ocean, for him is a fresh plain full of
flowers. Arriving at the Land of Women, Bran and his men each take a lover and stay
for what feels to be only a year, until his comrade Nechtán mac Colbrain begins to
long for Ireland. The woman of the silver branch allows Bran to leave with his companions, but warns
them not to set foot on Ireland’s shore. On nearing land, Bran calls out
his name to the folk on shore – to discover that centuries have passed and he
is now a figure of legend. Nechtán leaps from the boat and crumbles into ashes, and
after recounting his story from the boat, Bran sails away, never to be seen
again.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">A visitation similar to
this Otherworld woman with her sleep-bringing silver branch comes to Cormac,
grandson of Conn, King of Teamhair:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">And this is the way it happened. He was by himself in
Teamhair one time, and he saw an armed man coming towards him, quiet, with high
looks, and having grey hair; a shirt ribbed with gold thread next his skin,
broad shoes of white bronze between his feet and the ground, a shining branch
having nine apples of red gold on his shoulder. And it is delightful the sound
of that branch was, and no one on earth would keep in mind any want or trouble
or tiredness when that branch was shaken for him, and whatever trouble there
might be on him, he would forget it.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">A complicated story follows. The stranger – who in fact is Manannan mac Lir – gives the branch to Cormac on the condition that he shall receive three gifts in return, whenever he shall ask for them. Perhaps foolishly Cormac agrees to this <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><i>carte blanche </i>and </span>accepts the branch.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">He went back then into the royal house, and there was
wonder on all the people when they saw the branch. And he shook it at them, and
it put them all to sleep from that day to the same time on the morrow.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Wondrous though it is,
this sounds most inconvenient... Then things get
trickier. The stranger asks first for Cormac’s daughter, then his son, and spirits
them both away. Everyone grieves, but when Cormac shakes the branch they forget all their sorrow. For the third gift, the stranger Cormac for his wife. This is
granted, but then Cormac sets out to find and rescue his family. He enters a land where
Riders of the Sidhe are thatching a hall with the white wings of birds. After more wonders, he comes to a great king’s house and is welcomed as a guest by a
tall man and lovely woman. The man is Manannan himself, who after showing him many
marvels, sings him to sleep. When Cormac wakes his wife and children are standing before him: and because Cormac kept his word, Manannan swears friendship with him
and gives him a magical gold cup which can judge between truth and lies. Next day, Cormac wakes in his own house, his family restored.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">There is no real lapse of
time in Cormac’s tale or in Finn’s. An enchanted sleep of a night or twenty-four hours can hardly compare with the lost centuries experienced by
characters like King Herla, Rip van Winkle or the Sleeping Beauty. Nevertheless,
all three of these tales involve a visit to the Otherworld: the under-hill
dwelling of the Sidhe in the adventure of Finn, reminiscent of the caves visited by many characters in my first two posts; and the Land of Women and
the Land of Promise - alternative names for the same Otherworld island, the home of Manannan mac Lir. In each tale the heroes cross a boundary between this world and another: they go under the earth or pass over water. In all three tales, a musical instrument
figures: the three-stringed harp played by Scathach, the branch of silver apple-blossom which enchants Bran and the branch of golden apples which Cormac desires. These produce enchanting music which sends the hearers into a
deep sleep. And the fact that the magical branches are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">apple</i>-branches is suggestive.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Miranda Aldhouse-Green,
commenting on the story of Bran in her 2015 book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Celtic Myths</i>, says of the Land of Women:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">This Otherworld was the Land of Forever Young (Tir na n’Og)
but the enchantment ceased to work if humans returned to their own world of
time. The name Avalon, the legendary island burial-place of King Arthur, means
‘Apple-Tree Island’. According to medieval French Arthurian romances, such as
the story of the Holy Grail, Avalon was situated at Glastonbury, an ‘island’ in
the middle of the marshy, low-lying and apple-rich Somerset Levels.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Another name for
Manannan’s Otherworld island is ‘Emain Ablach’ or ‘Emain of the Apples’, and
according to James Mackillup’s wonderful <i>Dictionary
of Celtic Mythology</i> (1998), ‘Emain Ablach appears to be one of several
Celtic contributions to the Arthurian concept of Avalon’. The apple, he says,
was ‘celebrated in numerous functions in Celtic mythology, legend and folklore;
it is an emblem of fruitfulness and sometimes a means to immortality.’ I
suspect that this immortality is equivalent to death: those given it possess it
only for so long as they remain in the Otherworld. To make the return journey,
to set foot on mortal soil – is to re-enter time and crumble into dust. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">There is doubtless much more to be said about the enchantments that cause sleep in folklore and fairy tales (think of the Hand of Glory!), but I will revisit the theme another time. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></p><u>Picture credits:</u><div><br /></div><div>The Voyage of Bran: Bran meets Manannan mac Lir. Tapestry by <a href="http://terrytheweaver.ie/">Terry the Weaver, 1996</a><br /><p></p><div><br /></div></div>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-28016262676765794592023-10-31T02:48:00.006-07:002023-10-31T02:57:26.465-07:00THE SEAL-MAN by John Masefield<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2D0F5sSRePKm67sdRHyJNo1Ez2h5Zi2d2yKMJsnXOPs9SvoH8dk3uicBBFkjitSnW4fdIPcMWO2EEWvdZchNKTv_pddvnDHmf_0hHyMyPFEYcKQfgCH1vphnndYF7Kml4ColagfgYOxuOKoLw3W5g4spdcqVcZ52fEkUZ8JLiTPisRguOqdvwccshB2m9/s736/Great%20Silkie%20of%20Sule%20Skerry.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="552" data-original-width="736" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2D0F5sSRePKm67sdRHyJNo1Ez2h5Zi2d2yKMJsnXOPs9SvoH8dk3uicBBFkjitSnW4fdIPcMWO2EEWvdZchNKTv_pddvnDHmf_0hHyMyPFEYcKQfgCH1vphnndYF7Kml4ColagfgYOxuOKoLw3W5g4spdcqVcZ52fEkUZ8JLiTPisRguOqdvwccshB2m9/w640-h480/Great%20Silkie%20of%20Sule%20Skerry.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">This tale comes from John Masefield’s collection of sea stories</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 16pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">‘</span><i style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">A
Mainsail Haul</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 16pt;">’, first published in 1905 when the author was only 26. It's beautiful, although like most tales about selkies it is quite dark and sad. ['Loanings' means 'lanes'.]</span></span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">‘The seals is pretty
when they do be playing,’ said the old woman. ‘Ah, I seen them frisking their
tails till you’d think it was rocks with the sea beating on them, the time the
storm’s on. I seen the merrows of the sea sitting yonder on the dark stone, and
they had crowns on them, and they were laughing. The merrows are not good; it’s
not good to see too many of them. They are beautiful like young men in their
shirts playing hurley. They’re as beautiful as anything you would be seeing in
Amerikey or Australeyey, or any place. The seals is beautiful too, going
through the water in the young of the day; but they’re not so beautiful as
them. The seals are no good either. It’s a great curse keeps them the way they
are, not able to live either in the sea or on the land.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘One time there was a man of the O’Donnells came here, and
he was a bad man. A saint in Heaven would have been bothered to find good in
him. He died of the fever that came before the Famine. I was a girl then; and
if you’d seen the people in them times; there wasn’t enough to bury them. The
pigs used to eat them in the loanings. And their mouths would be all green
where they’d eaten grass from want of food. If you’d seen the houses there was
then, indeed, you’d think the place bewitched. But the cabins is all fell in,
like wonder, and there’s no dancing or fiddling, or anything at all, and all of
my friends is gone to Amerikey or Australeyey; I’ve no one at all to bury me...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘This O’Donnell I was telling you. My father was at his
wake. And they’d the candles lit, and they were drinking putcheen. My father
was nearest the door, and a fear took him, and he got up with his glass in his
hand, and he cried out, ‘There’s something here is not good.’ And another of
them said, ‘There’s something wants to get out.’ And another said, ‘It’s
himself wants to go out into the dark night.’ So my father flung the door open;
and, outside, the moon shone down to the sea. And the corpse of the O’Donnell
was all blue, and it got up with the sheet knotted on it, and walked out
without leaving a track. So they followed it, saying their prayers to Almighty
God, and it walked down to the sea. And when it came to the edge of the sea,
the sea was like a flame before it. And it bowed there, three times; and each
time it rose up it screamed. And all the seals, and all the merrows, and all
them that’s under the tides, they came up to welcome it. They called out to the
corpse and laughed, and the corpse laughed back, and fell on to the sand. My
father and the other men saw the wraith pass from it, into the water, as it
fell. It was like a little boy, laughing, with great long arms on
him. It was all black, and its hands moved like he was tickling something.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘And after that the priest had him buried, like they buried
the Old Ones; but the wraith passed into a bull seal. You would be feared to
see the like of the bull seal. There was a man of the O’Kanes fired a blessed
shilling at him, and the seal roared up at him and tore his arms across. There
was marks like black stars on him after till he died. And the bull seal walked
like a man at the change of the moon, like a big, tall, handsome man stepping
the roads. You’d be feared, sir, if you saw the like. He set his eyes on young
Norah O’Hara. Lovely she was. Wasn’t it a great curse he should take her when
there was old hags the like of Mary that has no more beauty than a done-out old
gather-up of a duck that a hungry dog would blush to be biting? Still, he took
Norah. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘She had a little son, and the little son was a sea-man;
the priest wouldn’t sign him with the cross. When Norah died he used always to
be going to the sea, he would always be swimming. He’d little soft brown hair,
like a seal’s, the prettiest you would be seeing. He used to talk to the
seals. My father was coming home one night from Carnmore, and he saw the little
seal-man in the sea; and seals were playing with him, singing songs. But my
father was feared to hear; he ran away. They stoned the seal-man, whiles, after
that; but whiles they didn’t stone it. They had a kindness for it, although it
had no holy water on it. It was a very young thing to be walking the world, and
it was a beautiful wee thing, with its eyes so pretty; so it grew up to be a
man.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Them that live in the water, they have ways of calling
people. Them who pass this seal-man, they felt the call in their hearts. Indeed,
if you passed the seal-man, stepping the roads, you would get a queer twist
from the way he looked at you. And he set his love on a young girl of the
O’Keefe’s, a little young girl with no more in her than the flower on its
stalk. You would see them in the loanings, coming home, or in the bright of the
day going. There was a strong love was on them two young things; it was like the
love of the Old Ones that took nine deaths to kill. They would be telling Kate
it was not right she should set her love on one who wasn’t like ourselves; but
there’s few indeed the young will listen. They are all for pleasure, all for
pleasure, before they are withered old hags, the like of my sister, Mary. And
at last they shut her up at home, to keep her from seeing him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘And he came by her cabin to the west of the road, calling.
There was a strong love came up in her at that, and she put down her sewing on
the table, and “Mother,” she says, “there’s no lock, and no key, and no bolt,
and no door. There’s no iron, nor no stone, nor anything at all will keep me
this night from the man I love.” And she went out into the moonlight to him,
there by the bush where the flowers is pretty, beyond the river. And he says to
her, “You are all of the beauty of the world, will you come where I go, over
the waves of the sea?” And she says to him: “My treasure and my strength,” she
says, “I would follow you on the frozen hills, my feet bleeding.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Then they went down into the sea together, and the moon
made a track upon the sea, and they walked down it; it was like a flame before
them. There was no fear at all on her; only a great love like the love of the
Old Ones, that was stronger than the touch of the fool. She had a little white
throat, and little cheeks like flowers, and she went down into the sea with her
man, who wasn’t a man at all. She was drowned, of course. It’s like he never
thought that she wouldn’t bear the sea like himself. She was drowned, drowned. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘When it come light they saw the seal-man sitting yonder on
the rock, and she lying by him, dead, with her face as white as a flower. He
was crying and beating her hands to bring life to her. It would have drawn pity
from a priest to hear him, though he wasn’t Christian. And at last, when he saw
that she was drowned, he took her in his arms and slipped into the sea like a
seal. And he swam, carrying her, with his head up, laughing and laughing, and
no one ever saw him again at all.’ <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;"><u>Picture credit:</u></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;">The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry; artist unknown: source: <a href="https://terreceltiche.altervista.org/the-grey-silkie-of-sule-skerry/">https://terreceltiche.altervista.org/the-grey-silkie-of-sule-skerry/</a> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;">(If anyone can tell me the name of the artist, I will be delighted to credit them.)</span></p><br /><p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-24749994924414938472023-10-05T03:37:00.006-07:002023-10-14T11:51:23.016-07:00'Nagas and Garudas, Dreams and Stars', a guest post by Shveta Thakrar<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4GC5eqA9Vv4kesD_35DrKc4tmF4O6fS8a8yOkCOlY3-0wHDbux5g-ivD06-BMzbtU5GGe_aKVTakgAP0e4cMIVk1AMb9yA9tLnJhBkjobOUIQUWCOhg3HwEo7_mFRiSbKu7wK8Qn8hPLDYWqLzR-6sY-dPreapYtRVazvtZlwmtymc-uliiVPASzN65Q/s1720/Dream%20Runners%20001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1720" data-original-width="1148" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4GC5eqA9Vv4kesD_35DrKc4tmF4O6fS8a8yOkCOlY3-0wHDbux5g-ivD06-BMzbtU5GGe_aKVTakgAP0e4cMIVk1AMb9yA9tLnJhBkjobOUIQUWCOhg3HwEo7_mFRiSbKu7wK8Qn8hPLDYWqLzR-6sY-dPreapYtRVazvtZlwmtymc-uliiVPASzN65Q/w428-h640/Dream%20Runners%20001.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0cm;
mso-para-margin-right:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0cm;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I’m delighted to welcome for
the second time to my blog the author Shveta Thakrar, whose second YA novel <i>The
Dream Runners</i> was published by HarperCollins last year. I thoroughly enjoyed <a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/search?q=shveta+thakrar">her
debut novel <i>Star Daughter</i> </a>and this one's even better. Shveta
weaves into her YA fantasies all kinds of mystical beings from Hindu legends and sacred texts, and Holly Black describes her writing as ‘beautiful as starlight’. In this post, Shveta retells the story of the enmity between the nagas and garudas, describes
the creative thinking behind her novel, and challenges us to
consider ways to turn old enmities into friendships. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><p><span> <br /></span></p><p><span> </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">#</span><span> </span></p><p></p><p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">We all know about
faerie courts. Night Courts and Bright Courts, Seelie and Unseelie. But what of
nagas and garudas?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><a href="https://www.harpercollins.com/products/the-dream-runners-shveta-thakrar?variant=40725786525730"><i>The
Dream Runners</i></a>, the second in my Night Market triptych of YA fantasy
novels based on various aspects of Hindu mythology, started out as an answer to
that question. I’d finished all work on <a href="https://www.harpercollins.com/products/star-daughter-shveta-thakrar?variant=32987824324642"><i>Star
Daughter</i></a>, and my editor reached out to ask me what was next. I took
some time to ponder that. I knew I loved changelings and faerie courts, but I
wasn’t ready to stop writing about Hindu mythology and folklore when I’d really
only just begun. <br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhaPZOvacKy4tLcCxSwUup_vnhGUPXHKwdhphCD5JkyD-XjbBGxT7g22UwtTFIEYFfwQCXEzX7CJz3rBZxaSXuZltf4eWGbsllPunTDLteU8sH0oEmU9z4gsLB_os4Zj0OHgjn3KVcc4pbpjJ3Up-h26hFy-BbDCjFu6iilOKyDiO20DUv9AHzxdYJ7-G/s1067/Garuda%20devouring%20Naga.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhaPZOvacKy4tLcCxSwUup_vnhGUPXHKwdhphCD5JkyD-XjbBGxT7g22UwtTFIEYFfwQCXEzX7CJz3rBZxaSXuZltf4eWGbsllPunTDLteU8sH0oEmU9z4gsLB_os4Zj0OHgjn3KVcc4pbpjJ3Up-h26hFy-BbDCjFu6iilOKyDiO20DUv9AHzxdYJ7-G/w480-h640/Garuda%20devouring%20Naga.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garuda devouring a naga<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then it struck me: I already knew of a similar scenario,
that of the ancient mythical war between the nagas—serpent shape-shifters—and
their cousins and mortal enemies, the garudas—eagle shape-shifters. With such
sharp lines of division, these two groups might as well be two opposing courts.
In fact, since I am a storyteller, allow me now to tell you their tale.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">#</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">(There are, of course,
different variations and even different narratives, but this is the version I
learned as a child. And if you enjoy it, I highly recommend seeking out a
series of comic books called <a href="https://www.amarchitrakatha.com/"><i>Amar
Chitra Katha</i></a>, which recount many Indian myths and legends.)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Long, long ago, in the time of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mahabharata">the <i>Mahabharata</i></a>,
there were two sisters, the elder called <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vinata">Vinata</a> and the younger <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kadru">Kadru</a>, daughters of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daksha">Lord Daksha</a>. Wed to the same
rishi—sage—<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kashyapa">Kashyapa</a>, both
sisters bore children by him after requesting that boon: Vinata gave birth to
two eggs, which contained <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aruna_(Hinduism)">Arun</a>, who later
became <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surya">Lord Surya’s</a>
charioteer, and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garuda">Garuda</a>,
while Kadru gave birth to a thousand eggs, from which emerged the first <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/N%C4%81ga">nagas</a>.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One day, Kadru, known for her wily nature, challenged
Vinata to name the color of the tail of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uchchaihshravas">Uchchaihshravas</a>, the
divine horse born from <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samudra_Manthana">Samudra
Manthan</a>, the churning of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kshira_Sagara">Cosmic Ocean of Milk</a>.
However, the wager came with a cost: should Vinata answer incorrectly, she and
her son would then become enslaved to Kadru and her brood. If she answered
correctly, the reverse would be true. The question seemed simple enough, and as
the seven-headed horse was radiantly white from head to toe, Vinata guessed that
his equine tail was white.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioAwDE1viIxodkO7Bf3PXgrVMUyQqKutVfgXNAqMF32RLV6XFbaWkyKQlshztyiwSvC0stH6DhIWqYi6mzIi1bZvJwEpNLc59VAWWcLt5FeFZCSDLrQGgVxmPh5iu5o3qJMJpSCer1UoSz8EIud0xt1mNbRx4RixVdAaBTK0o79mxwWqvr0uZuFe2J1Lnt/s500/Uchchaihshravas.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioAwDE1viIxodkO7Bf3PXgrVMUyQqKutVfgXNAqMF32RLV6XFbaWkyKQlshztyiwSvC0stH6DhIWqYi6mzIi1bZvJwEpNLc59VAWWcLt5FeFZCSDLrQGgVxmPh5iu5o3qJMJpSCer1UoSz8EIud0xt1mNbRx4RixVdAaBTK0o79mxwWqvr0uZuFe2J1Lnt/w400-h400/Uchchaihshravas.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"> </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But Kadru had been scheming. She sent her children, the
nagas, to cover Uchchaihshravas’s tail, then brought her sister to see him.
“Black,” she pronounced, and her unfortunate sister had no choice but to agree.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The humiliation of being proven wrong would have been unpleasant
but bearable, had that been the only consequence. Of course, it was not, and so
Vinata and Garuda began their indenture, waiting upon her sister and her nieces
and nephews. Watching his mother endure their abuse was an indignity Garuda
could not accept, and from that day forward, he nursed a grudge against his
cousins, stoking the fires of his hatred. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At last, having grown mighty, with a wingspan that could
block the sun, he demanded of Kadru that she free Vinata. Kadru, naturally, would
do no such thing without a price: the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amrita">amrit</a> from the heavenly realm
of Svargalok. Garuda then fought all the gods in the realm, even Lord Indra,
and came away with the nectar. Kadru freed her sister and instructed Garuda to distribute
the amrit amidst her children.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSlCRuIDxEjvBnM7nJLDZsDA7L5h1WeOhvoShye_n3JE9czOJKeQIOHzFboZ3eflN4Q1041THbN8F59tmNpMCT-EcDJblYJjiggRTINmL4Go1vxKhv-kgKPcaNu89t6xL_HXlxZm5tX3VLSj5OCrJSdVFPt6cdVqx2vcMdo_gIGlyT2cVgbrDHziC4-54/s1067/800px-Garuda_returning_with_the_vase_of_Amrita.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSlCRuIDxEjvBnM7nJLDZsDA7L5h1WeOhvoShye_n3JE9czOJKeQIOHzFboZ3eflN4Q1041THbN8F59tmNpMCT-EcDJblYJjiggRTINmL4Go1vxKhv-kgKPcaNu89t6xL_HXlxZm5tX3VLSj5OCrJSdVFPt6cdVqx2vcMdo_gIGlyT2cVgbrDHziC4-54/w480-h640/800px-Garuda_returning_with_the_vase_of_Amrita.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garuda returns with the vase of Amrita<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">However,
Lord Indra had beseeched him not to grant it to the nagas, so instead, Garuda
commanded them to wash and purify themselves before they could imbibe. While
they did so, Indra’s son, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jayanta">Jayanta</a>,
stole the vessel back. When the nagas returned, Garuda consumed them all.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">(Yet
in the contradictory way of mythology, there are still more nagas and later a
race of garudas, who continue this enmity forever more.)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And that, gentle reader, is why eagles eat snakes.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">#</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">I’ve always been
fascinated by this story—and the antics people get up to when they have no true
purpose driving them—so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I had initially
used it in my first attempt at a novel, now trunked. But when my editor came
calling, it occurred to me that I could cannibalize elements from that trunked
novel and incorporate them into what became <i>The Dream Runners</i>. By then, I
had become a skilled enough writer to do the myth justice.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">That
original attempt featured a human main character named Sameer, who became
relegated to a tertiary character in <i>The Dream Runners</i>, while his
girlfriend, the delightful and audacious nagini Princess Asha, now took on a
greater role as a secondary character. I also—of course—resurrected the magical
bar with its enchanted libations such as silver wine (distilled moonlight) and set
it in the Night Market from <i>Star Daughter</i>, thus connecting the two books.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Meanwhile, two new characters, Tanvi, a dream runner who
starts waking up, and Venkat, the dreamsmith she previously sold her harvested
dreams to in return for a beloved bracelet, ran away with the story of boons
and dreams and arranged marriages between naga clans, all set against the
backdrop of the mythological war between the garudas and the nagas.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And so, <i>The Dream Runners</i> became my loving
fanfiction of the original myth.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">#</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">Myths exist for many
reasons, one of which is to reflect our lives back to us. I cannot help but see
the connections between things, and I think a lot about interpersonal
communication, empathy, and what plays out on the world stage when we forget that
we’re connected and view others as our rivals, if not as our enemies. When we
forget that, as the Sanskrit saying goes, we are all one world family:<span style="background: white; color: #111111;"> </span></span><b><span face=""Nirmala UI","sans-serif"" lang="HI" style="background: white; color: #111111; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%; mso-ascii-font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-hansi-font-family: Garamond;">वसुधैव</span></b><b><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"> </span></b><b><span face=""Nirmala UI","sans-serif"" lang="HI" style="background: white; color: #111111; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%; mso-ascii-font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-hansi-font-family: Garamond;">कुटुम्बकम</span></b><b><span lang="HI" style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-language: HI;"> </span></b><b><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-language: HI;">(</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><i>vasudhaiva kutumbakam),</i> we harm both others and
ourselves.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">As in the myth, that fundamental truth gets
dismissed again and again in a dog-eat-dog global society focused on greed for
the few at the cost of the rest. Though I didn’t intend it, there’s definitely
an anticapitalist slant to <i>The Dream Runners</i>. I might not have realized that’s
what I was writing in Tanvi and her harvesting, but I stand by it.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">So,
returning to the matter at hand: What do you do once a war has calcified into
what appears to be inevitability, and seemingly unmovable, unbreachable lines
have been drawn? When you hurt me, so now I must hurt you, and because I hurt
you, you will now hurt me?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How do we break old cycles of violence and hatred?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">I
won’t spoil how my characters choose to solve that problem, but I personally
believe that we <i>need </i>to find answers to these questions. Our world
depends on it. I wrote <i>The Dream Runners </i>to be a magical escape for my
readers, to celebrate Hindu mythology and shine a spotlight on the beings
lesser known in the West, but also to get us to consider if there might be <a href="https://www.broadleafbooks.com/store/product/9781506485058/Purposeful-Empathy">alternatives
to the way it’s always been</a>. If we can write a new ending to an old story.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">I
invite you to start writing yours.</span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCclabLgYSishOWnjVgoFifT5c0-txJjVMnDRmYjsufmX91plKomo_Hv1q2AOxO7jDfi3EiTvD5mleTCyMYmcOnTS7B6pCkCsCS1-pC9KpQ7ziXZ71YAOPxRFyYyBvcOzdTSYBXdl87ltC0uZg7zBFGGmgmRe7RKk5LKQTy3_DdvQoLVtTyUTo2LFdL6m0/s232/Shanti%20sanskrit.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="232" data-original-width="217" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCclabLgYSishOWnjVgoFifT5c0-txJjVMnDRmYjsufmX91plKomo_Hv1q2AOxO7jDfi3EiTvD5mleTCyMYmcOnTS7B6pCkCsCS1-pC9KpQ7ziXZ71YAOPxRFyYyBvcOzdTSYBXdl87ltC0uZg7zBFGGmgmRe7RKk5LKQTy3_DdvQoLVtTyUTo2LFdL6m0/w187-h200/Shanti%20sanskrit.png" width="187" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><u>Picture credits</u><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Dream Runners by Shveta Thakrar, HarperTeen. Cover art by Charlie Bowater</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">Garuda devouring a naga: Painting at the Temple of the Emerald Buddha, Bangkok, Wikipedia</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">Uchchaihshavras: origin unknown: <a href="https://www.quora.com/What-is-known-about-Uchchaihshravas">https://www.quora.com/What-is-known-about-Uchchaihshravas</a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">Garuda returns with the vase of Amrita: <a href="https://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O68216/painting-garuda-returning-with-the-vase/garuda-returning-with-the-vase-painting-unknown/">V&A collections </a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br /></p><p><br /></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-9282807362954637562023-09-21T09:25:00.013-07:002023-09-23T02:01:01.776-07:00Enchanted Sleep and Sleepers #3<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCTj67IOff5PdD2wRrcbBSyHYlYzyS-Df7SWpsqgEi7j7Viy4E7WX1psXdynva9Dp3NSfaOCDh7WVtIjo2FZNC9a-HrfyulBfdrtd6t3MJvqiCNAidj0-_YxbObTrlxs4t3W9czN_6QUi2aGeTmRKhOZwIQQqYpRjH9baKXZuqfou4YnszcSbGVxDp648/s637/Sleeping%20King%20Arthur%20001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="437" data-original-width="637" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCTj67IOff5PdD2wRrcbBSyHYlYzyS-Df7SWpsqgEi7j7Viy4E7WX1psXdynva9Dp3NSfaOCDh7WVtIjo2FZNC9a-HrfyulBfdrtd6t3MJvqiCNAidj0-_YxbObTrlxs4t3W9czN_6QUi2aGeTmRKhOZwIQQqYpRjH9baKXZuqfou4YnszcSbGVxDp648/w640-h440/Sleeping%20King%20Arthur%20001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Probably the best-known
enchanted sleeper after the Sleeping Beauty is Rip van Winkle. A lazybones
living in the Catskill Mountains, he prefers hunting to hard work. Out with his
dog one evening, he helps a strange little fellow to carry a keg up the
mountain. They arrive at ‘a hollow, like a small amphitheatre, surrounded by
perpendicular precipices, over the brinks of which impending trees shot their
branches, so that you only caught glimpses of the azure sky and the bright
evening cloud.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Within this cave-like
structure a number of ‘odd-looking personages’ dressed in old-fashioned clothes
are playing at ninepins in complete silence except for the noise of the rolling
balls which raise thunderous echoes. Stopping their play, they stare at Rip
‘with such fixed, statue-like gaze, and such strange, uncouth, lack-lustre
countenances, that his heart turned within him and his knees knocked together.’
Rip nervously serves the little men drinks from the keg, after which they
return to their game; he tries the beverage himself, and falls asleep for
twenty years. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnbKXGZFx88Vz1t3fwcPY9U66ghRZQTbKGEXoewWO_WKQwXeq9CJcI1VFrqEsYvItlS3qwx_4SGsqQwH8L4AL-pDUJ9z0x9LHhENJ-YhEKhI31JSW5spPYkOWEW93Hz-mHtY1x2T0rDMI_vl7hnUoM8-o3ZXsmDA55Sk1bd0c4NUHtZ8YCjsD6f_-HE4p/s1024/Rip%20Van%20Winkle.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="733" data-original-width="1024" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnbKXGZFx88Vz1t3fwcPY9U66ghRZQTbKGEXoewWO_WKQwXeq9CJcI1VFrqEsYvItlS3qwx_4SGsqQwH8L4AL-pDUJ9z0x9LHhENJ-YhEKhI31JSW5spPYkOWEW93Hz-mHtY1x2T0rDMI_vl7hnUoM8-o3ZXsmDA55Sk1bd0c4NUHtZ8YCjsD6f_-HE4p/w640-h458/Rip%20Van%20Winkle.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Rip is the invention of
Washington Irving who published the tale in 1819, but he based it heavily on a
German folktale ‘Peter Klaus’. Peter is a goatherd from Sittendorf who pastures
his herd on the Kyffhäuser, a prominent hill south-east of the Harz mountains.
Following a stray goat into a cave, Peter finds it eating oats mysteriously
showering from the roof. He hears horses neigh and stamp overhead, and a young
man beckons him up steps into a ‘deep dell, inclosed by steep craggy
precipices’ where ‘on a well-levelled, cool grass plot’, twelve knights
silently play skittles and sign for him to set up the fallen ones. Peter obeys:
then growing bolder, drinks wine from a nearby pitcher and falls asleep only to
wake stiff and old, with a beard a foot long. Descending the mountain to Sittendorf,
he finds his house a ruin and recognises no one until a young woman tells him
that Peter Klaus was her father – ‘It is now twenty years and more since we
searched for him a whole day and night on the Kyffhäuser. ... I was then seven
years old.’ <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Go90SQOIMOhLnlXdaJa-ZNnXbgPoI7cT3aZioiJjA4_69O9qrJ3N3Lz7bDkw0enBmmUVyZ0YHuvxzDiqdTYpuDur7pbYPD8Ykx3OusXqIbOwnzaFxCLAfdj3GyvnsdFNWRCvSd52pzpAo7YBvoy6H-cKYZ-NZlYtE6F8sAW6you8-Wvl8zzCE83Uftj2/s1577/kingmountain1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1577" data-original-width="1288" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Go90SQOIMOhLnlXdaJa-ZNnXbgPoI7cT3aZioiJjA4_69O9qrJ3N3Lz7bDkw0enBmmUVyZ0YHuvxzDiqdTYpuDur7pbYPD8Ykx3OusXqIbOwnzaFxCLAfdj3GyvnsdFNWRCvSd52pzpAo7YBvoy6H-cKYZ-NZlYtE6F8sAW6you8-Wvl8zzCE83Uftj2/w522-h640/kingmountain1.png" width="522" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Relevant to this tale is the
legend that the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa (1122-1190) sleeps in a
cave under the Kyffhäuser with six of his knights. He sits at the head of a
stone table and has been there so long that his great red beard has grown right
through the stone. This legend haunts the story of poor Peter Klaus and
explains his fate. Anyone local to the Kyffhäuser would know at once that the
cave, knights and horses belonged to Barbarossa. It’s generally a risky
business to enter the cave of a sleeping king and his army, especially if one
of the sleepers stirs and asks ‘Is it time?’ (The best plan is to answer, ‘No,
sleep on!’ and flee.) <a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2017/06/willie-miller-and-sleeper-in-cave.html">Hugh Miller, in his 1891 book </a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2017/06/willie-miller-and-sleeper-in-cave.html">Scenes and Legends of the North of Scotland,</a> </i>relates how a man
entered the Dropping Cave of Cromarty and fuelled by alcohol, blew a blast on a
bugle he found lying beside a vast sarcophagus, disturbing an unknown warrior:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The
cover heaved upwards, disclosing a corner of the chasm beneath; and a hand
covered with blood and of such fearful magnitude as to resemble only the
conceptions of Egyptian sculpture, was slowly stretched from the darkness
towards the handle of the mace. Willie’s resolution gave way, and flinging down
the horn he rushed toward the passage. A yell of blended grief and anger burst
from the tomb, as the immense cover again settled over it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">So far as I know, Washington
Irving had no similar legend of the Catskills to apply to Rip van Winkle, but
his odd little men are sufficiently fey to be disturbing. The fairies
traditionally dressed in old-fashioned clothes, and in Arthur Rackham’s
illustrations to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rip van Winkle</i> the
little men look very like goblins. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Characters like Rip fall
asleep in consequence of having accidentally strayed into what might be termed
a supernatural danger zone. In fact, the ‘supernatural lapse of time’ – the
phrase coined by Edwin Sydney Hartland in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Science of Fairytales</i> (1890) – experienced by Rip and the sleeping Peter
Klaus is very similar to that of those who visit fairyland for what seems a few
days or hours, but find on their return that years or centuries have passed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The 12<sup>th</sup> century
courtier Walter Map tells of King Herla of the Britons, who goes to the wedding
of a pygmy fairy king (half goat, half man) in underground halls of great
splendour. After the wedding, the pygmy king loads Herla and his retinue with
gifts including a small hound for Herla to carry on his saddle, warning that
neither he nor any of his men should dismount before the dog leaps down.
Emerging into the open, Herla asks an old shepherd for news of his queen, but
the shepherd can hardly understand him. ‘You are a Briton and I a Saxon... long
ago, there was a queen of that name ... who was the wife of King Herla; and he,
the story says, disappeared in company with a pygmy at this very cliff and was
never seen on earth again.’ Forgetting the fairy king’s warning, some of
Herla’s men jump from their horses and crumble instantly to dust: and Herla
still rides the hills with the rest of his company, for the little dog has not
yet leapt down. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPj2BcWFrUZdMDh18l5RahKjZ5EUUZWz8d-fQA2WzJi92oVWjgS4UjVEmUT8aVeASP0OPWvrFMfU3m5BHh4PR09gZNi6ebAuuk5fVivSMcLdcgQ25CjJrdxT5fuvP77emux037siI24jNEM-t1SER1aoEpBvI8Sk8-hZKMFNT_-vDm31TACZ_mc2ykGoOo/s1320/Oisin%20and%20Niamh%20by%20Richard%20Hook.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1320" data-original-width="822" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPj2BcWFrUZdMDh18l5RahKjZ5EUUZWz8d-fQA2WzJi92oVWjgS4UjVEmUT8aVeASP0OPWvrFMfU3m5BHh4PR09gZNi6ebAuuk5fVivSMcLdcgQ25CjJrdxT5fuvP77emux037siI24jNEM-t1SER1aoEpBvI8Sk8-hZKMFNT_-vDm31TACZ_mc2ykGoOo/w398-h640/Oisin%20and%20Niamh%20by%20Richard%20Hook.webp" width="398" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The same prohibition was
placed on Oisin, son of the Irish hero Finn, who married Niamh of the Golden
Hair, daughter of the King of the Country of the Young and went away with her
to that country, riding over the sea. After spending three years there he longed
to see his father Finn again. Niamh gave him permission, and her horse, and warned
him on no account to dismount or put foot to the ground. Of course he forgot.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Some say it was hundreds of years he was in that country,
and some say it was thousands of years he was in it; but whatever time it was,
it seemed short to him. And whatever happened to him through the time he was
away, it is a withered old man he was found after coming back to Ireland, and
his white horse going away from him, and he lying on the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gods and Fighting Men, Book XI, Ch 1, tr. Lady Augusta Gregory</i><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Oisin leaves the land of
everlasting youth and returns to mortal soil, where the weight of centuries falls
and crushes him. In a dialogue with St Patrick he describes himself as ‘an old
man, weak and spent, without sight, without shape, without comeliness, without
strength or understanding, without respect.’ Patrick tries to convert him, but
Oisin has the last word:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCUnGBRMfJqKoXsJZlNK5XFAf8OmAX7LxtUEMKui3rKMJeZ8lEV1Reo1kHsJq6nfhIVtMzqXS7Y03bHushMCpQiRkyqnW2LED2A8K1gfrHujy3UIq4a5ECZfks8PxKT1GOYw1MfOI4kZYh6pxNmMBPKEcXSSFRoNxA0cND7qUhUzOeKw5FVMNLEVaOTV9/s991/Oisin%20meets%20St.%20Patrick%20PL%20Lynch.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="991" data-original-width="706" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCUnGBRMfJqKoXsJZlNK5XFAf8OmAX7LxtUEMKui3rKMJeZ8lEV1Reo1kHsJq6nfhIVtMzqXS7Y03bHushMCpQiRkyqnW2LED2A8K1gfrHujy3UIq4a5ECZfks8PxKT1GOYw1MfOI4kZYh6pxNmMBPKEcXSSFRoNxA0cND7qUhUzOeKw5FVMNLEVaOTV9/w456-h640/Oisin%20meets%20St.%20Patrick%20PL%20Lynch.jpg" width="456" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Oisin and Patrick' by PL Lynch</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘It is a good claim I have on your God, to be among his
clerks the way I am; without food, without clothing, without music, without
giving rewards to peers. Without the cry of the hounds, without guarding
coasts, without courting generous women; for all that I have suffered by the
want of food, I forgive the King of Heaven in my will.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘My story is sorrowful. The sound of your
voice is not pleasant to me. I will cry my fill, but not for God, but because
Finn and the Fianna are not living.’</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: medium; line-height: 150%;">Gods
and Fighting Men, Book XI, Ch V, tr. Lady Augusta Gregory</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Or are they? In most accounts
Oisin dies; his grave, like Arthur’s, is located in various places –
Antrim,</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Armagh, even Scotland – but for
Finn and the Fianna ‘there are some say he never died, but is alive in some
place yet.’</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">And one time a smith made his way into a cave he saw, that
had a door in it, and he made a key that opened it. And when he went in he saw
a very wide place, and very big men lying on the floor. And one that was bigger
than the rest was lying in the middle, and the Dord Fiann <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">[Finn’s war-horn]</i> beside him, and knew it was Finn and the Fianna
were in it.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And the
smith took hold of the Dord Fian, and ... blew a very strong blast on it ...
And at the sound, the big men lying on the ground shook from head to foot. He
gave another blast then, and they all turned on their elbows. And great dread
came on his when he saw that, and he threw down the Dord Fian and ran from the
cave and locked the door after him, and threw the key into the lake. And he
heard them crying after him, ‘You left us worse than you found us.’ And the
cave was not found again since that time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But some
say the day will come when the Dord Fian will be sounded three times, and that
at the sound of it the Fianna will rise up as strong and well as ever they
were...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gods
and Fighting Men, Book X, Chapter III, tr. Lady Gregory</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">(If you want to hear what the
Dord Fian might have sounded like, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOxzlJSyznc"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">click
this link</i>.) <o:p></o:p></a></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Versions of this tale-type
known as ‘the king asleep in the mountain’ are found worldwide, and I can’t
resist sharing my recent discovery – recent to me, though known to many – of
perhaps the earliest European ‘sleeping king’ narrative. It’s recorded by the 1<sup>st</sup>/2<sup>nd</sup>
century CE Greek historian and philosopher Plutarch, who attributes it to
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demetrius_of_Magnesia">Demetrius the Grammarian</a> ‘travelling home from Britain to Tarsus’. In one
dialogue<a href="https://sacred-texts.com/cla/plu/pte/pte05.htm#fr_68"> ‘On the Silence of the Oracles’</a>, Demetrius tells how on one of the
many islands lying around Britain, Cronus (Saturn) lies sleeping, guarded by
the hundred-handed monster Briareus: ‘and round about him are many demigods as
attendants and servants.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another
dialogue <a href="https://sacred-texts.com/cla/plu/pte/pte08.htm">‘On the Face Which Appears in the Orb of the Moon</a>’ elaborates this
account: <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">A run of five days off from Britain as you sail westward,
three other islands equally distant from it and from one another lie out from
it in the general direction of the summer sunset. In one of these, according to
the tale told by the natives, Cronus is confined by Zeus, and the antique
Briareus, holding watch and ward over those islands and the sea that they call
the Cronian main,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>has been settled close
beside him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">[...] <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">For
Cronus himself sleeps confined in a deep cave of rock that shines like gold –
the sleep that Zeus has contrived like a bond for him – and birds flying in
over the summit of the rock bring ambrosia to him, and all the island is
suffused with fragrance scattered from the rock as from a fountain; and those
spirits mentioned before tend and serve Cronus, having been his comrades what
time he served as king over gods and men.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I wonder if Demetrius reached
the island on which ‘Cronus’ sleeps by circumnavigating Britain anti-clockwise,
and sailed down the west coast from the north? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">[T]hose
who survive the voyage first put in at the outlying islands [...], and see the
sun pass out of sight for less than an hour over a period of thirty days, – and
this is night, though it has a darkness that is slight and twilight glimmering
from the west [...] and then winds carry them to their appointed goal.*<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">This description of the long
northern summer days and short nights convinces me that Demetrius really did sail in northern waters and picked up information and stories ‘according to
the tale told by the natives.’ It’s tantalising! What Celtic god or hero seemed
to Demetrius’ Greco-Roman mind, the equivalent of Cronus/Saturn, father of
Zeus? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Whoever that might be</span><span style="font-size: large;"> (</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">incidentally, a friend has reminded me of CS Lewis's giant Father Time, who sleeps in a cave under Narnia until Time ends </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">– </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Cronus is a personification of time, and you can bet Lewis knew his Plutarch)</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> the
roll-call of sleeping heroes includes figures named and unnamed, legendary and
historical: Finn, Barbarossa, Charlemagne, Ogier the Dane, and of course there’s
Arthur.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Some men say in many parts of England that King Arthur is
not dead, but had by the will of Our Lord Jesu into another place; and men say
that he shall come again, and he shall win the holy cross. I will not say that
it shall be so, but rather I will say, here in this world he changed his life.
But many men say there is written upon his tomb this verse: HIC IACET ARTHURUS,
REX QUONDAM REXQUE FUTURUS. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Le Morte D’Arthur, Book XXI, chapter 7</i></span></span><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95WtNOYhx576yRqKvCr2ojKdL6Ss0wyK6EF_fpFJ5zyeJn5pzVw1dL7evnsR9UTuX_jyKSIIy6Jvv8bhotMte3O8TSr4xN2LoqpK7bvHOnYEdlDGdrcTzAjrSlyAr-3UYt2GkC6Dj5p79zcsMxjv-g6WuTwy_h3Ci5GkAQrHiCJrPiLmp90qepbIlugp5/s790/Death_of_King_Arthur_by_John_Garrick.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="575" data-original-width="790" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95WtNOYhx576yRqKvCr2ojKdL6Ss0wyK6EF_fpFJ5zyeJn5pzVw1dL7evnsR9UTuX_jyKSIIy6Jvv8bhotMte3O8TSr4xN2LoqpK7bvHOnYEdlDGdrcTzAjrSlyAr-3UYt2GkC6Dj5p79zcsMxjv-g6WuTwy_h3Ci5GkAQrHiCJrPiLmp90qepbIlugp5/w400-h291/Death_of_King_Arthur_by_John_Garrick.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Malory’s Arthur is taken away
in a barge to ‘the isle of Avilion, to heal me of my grievous wound’, but
England, Wales and the Borders are full of tales of the king and his knights
sleeping hidden under a hill. Jennifer Westwood and Jacqueline Simpson
summarize the stories in their comprehensive guide to England’s legends, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Lore of the Land</i>.<span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">In several places, including Sewingshields, Northumberland,
and Richmond Castle, Yorkshire, it is said that a man finds a secret doorway in
a hillside, leading to a cavern where Arthur and his knights sleep, surrounded
by weapons and treasures, which may include some significant objects, such as a
sword, a horn, or a bell. [...] The sleepers begin to stir, and the intruder
panics and flees. He... can never find the hidden entrance again; meanwhile,
Arthur and his knights return to their enchanted sleep, for the time for their
return has not yet come. Other stories, collected in the late 19<sup>th</sup>
century, say Arthur and his court dwell inside the hill-fort of Cadbury Castle,
Somerset; on the nights of full moon they emerge on horses shod with silver. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">The Lore of the Land, p310</span></i></span><span style="color: red; font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">It’s easy to see how the ‘king
under the hill’ tales bleed into fairyland. The Cadbury legend makes Arthur and
his silver-shod steeds sound very like the Seelie Court or Faerie Rade. Other
than their regular full-moon wandering, the rest of the time do they sleep? The
Irish Earl Gerald of Mullaghmast, a master of the black arts, sleeps with his
warriors<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in a cave under the Rath of
Mullaghmast. Once every seven years he wakes and ‘rides around the Curragh of Kildare
on a horse whose silver shoes were half an inch thick’ when he fell asleep.
When they are worn ‘as thin as a cat’s ear, a miller’s son with six fingers on
each hand will blow his trumpet’ and the Earl and his men will wake and ride
out against the English. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Perhaps Tolkien remembered these
stories when he sent Aragorn into the Dwimmerberg, the Haunted Mountain, to
summon the King of the Dead and the shadow army which slept there. Once they
have fought on his side against the hordes of Mordor, Aragorn holds the dead king's ancient oath fulfilled, and the shadow army dissolves like mist.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIj8vlB68pBYg5S5z9yB-Uz4EsdAqHwcJd_V7TkvTxD0eJ9wvpGgEYqX5SlYM7OMrCxjCUiD9cCKb6tcTk38fpfgkot7oY7WgW0OokU50bQB-7LxEkxy7xAU8hQbWwA3WBs4H_0y6TG20Yb95cFaKsT1ya5zNp8csqeri5X5Fax_74AVtLlvdSB-QQWGi8/s640/Stone-of-Erech-Inger-Edelfeldt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="463" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIj8vlB68pBYg5S5z9yB-Uz4EsdAqHwcJd_V7TkvTxD0eJ9wvpGgEYqX5SlYM7OMrCxjCUiD9cCKb6tcTk38fpfgkot7oY7WgW0OokU50bQB-7LxEkxy7xAU8hQbWwA3WBs4H_0y6TG20Yb95cFaKsT1ya5zNp8csqeri5X5Fax_74AVtLlvdSB-QQWGi8/w464-h640/Stone-of-Erech-Inger-Edelfeldt.jpg" width="464" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Kings or heroes, all male,
lying asleep in caves or underground: <a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2023/08/enchanted-sleep-and-sleepers-1.html">like the tales I explored in my first post</a> and unlike those of the second, these narratives focus on the lapse of
time and its effect, but there is a difference. King Mucukunda, the Seven
Sleepers, Honi the Circle-Drawer and their ilk were all put to sleep by some
divinity </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">–</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> and for a purpose. And their experiences were ultimately positive:
they received divine lessons or blessings and departed this life in peace. That
is not the case in these tales. Nothing St Patrick says can comfort Oisin,
whose lament expresses not only the personal, emotional cost of the lost years,
but fierce grief for a vanished way of life and the age of heroes.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">What causes this difference? While
deities can be expected to look after you, it is dangerous to trespass into the
Otherworld of the Sidhe, where humanity does not belong, and even more
dangerous if you taste food or drink there. The fair folk don’t age like us.
Even Aragorn in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Lord of the Rings</i>
will grow old long before his elven bride, Arwen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2023/09/enchanted-sleep-and-sleepers-2.html">The women in my second post</a> do
not sleep in caves. They sleep in the open air on hilltops, or in the more
civilised environment of hall or castle. And they do not age. During her
century of sleep the Sleeping Beauty does not age at all, neither does the
valkyrie Sigrdrifa in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Poetic Edda,</i>
or Brynhild in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Volsunga Saga</i>: they
wake from their enchantments as active, young and beautiful as when they fell
asleep. But whether by gradual natural process or sudden dynamic change, Peter
Klaus, Rip van Winkle and Oisin do age. They sleep for decades and wake already
old, or discover they’ve skipped a huge span of years and instantly wither –
some into dust. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAz0jRFzj51wfmXEZPR3cVTKCM2tn8MzFKRfsEFnDKe1_Yc2UUUs7eEk2ZWkxQ4MrIBAbjuQWBhUWjCDR0NUcuWIATGsXtlHAlU8g4dHtsH7NRFoytN01OCNnlC3LMXRaMwQViqYKAoc9XmllNo5Kg0U5H2J-HTB_wI_CeeifyLvBRqWKji9sg7inQMc39/s1024/Rip%20van%20winkle%20old.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="855" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAz0jRFzj51wfmXEZPR3cVTKCM2tn8MzFKRfsEFnDKe1_Yc2UUUs7eEk2ZWkxQ4MrIBAbjuQWBhUWjCDR0NUcuWIATGsXtlHAlU8g4dHtsH7NRFoytN01OCNnlC3LMXRaMwQViqYKAoc9XmllNo5Kg0U5H2J-HTB_wI_CeeifyLvBRqWKji9sg7inQMc39/w534-h640/Rip%20van%20winkle%20old.jpg" width="534" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">A tale in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Celtic Magazine</i> of November 1887 tells how a young bridegroom
leaving the church after his wedding was stopped by ‘a tall dark man’ who asked
him to come around the back of the building with him for a quick word, and asked
him to stand still till a small piece of candle he held in his hand should burn
out. The bridegroom complied; it burned for two minutes, then he ran after his
friends. They were out of sight, so he asked a man cutting turf if he had seen
the wedding party go by. The turf-cutter shook his head: ‘Not for a long time
past. What did you suppose the date of the wedding to be?’ The bridegroom gave
a date two hundred years in the past. And the turf-cutter told him, ‘My
grandfather had a tale his grandfather told him, of a bridegroom who
disappeared on the day of his wedding.’ ‘I am that bridegroom!’ the young man
cried, and fell as he spoke into a small heap of earth. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Maybe that’s the best way to
go? For those who survive for a while, the sense of loss is devastating. In Rip
and Peter Klaus’s case, meeting a grown daughter and grandchild offers partial
consolation, but there is no recovering lost youth. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">As for the ones who grieve for
the lost years but do not die, one thing is clear: they are divorced from the
flow of time. They cannot grow or change. Some spend the endless years like
King Herla who ‘holds on his mad course with his band in eternal wanderings, without
step or stay’. This is not like sleep, which indeed doesn’t feature in Herla’s
tale, but it speaks of an inability to rejoin or ever to take part again in
natural life. Unable even to dismount from their steeds, Herla and his troop
are forever homeless, ‘blown in restless violence round about the pendant
world’, to quote Shakespeare. And the kings and their knights lie in their
caves in suspended animation, neither dead nor truly alive, waiting for the day
when they will be needed, will be relevant again. Alas, it is a day that may never
come, for </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">– </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Aragorn excepted </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">–</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> in no story has any intruder ever desired to wake
them.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuatG7SmdCYVHW2V-oEtUHR7eTA4lPqfiBhx0J5LKj6NhWzxM_q_HfECZwD2BjyLbDIVW9xNAoyxIusckv9yPwVAncONdMaW0yYcSv3hjwKcD3Z-KX4W_0MhZJdpEwK53Oj2ZZCo8bylUgmzQsr_NpoywWxzci_ck0XCJDnEILbtAYfH3n7GFHTgMfneMN/s140/header%20footer7.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="115" data-original-width="140" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuatG7SmdCYVHW2V-oEtUHR7eTA4lPqfiBhx0J5LKj6NhWzxM_q_HfECZwD2BjyLbDIVW9xNAoyxIusckv9yPwVAncONdMaW0yYcSv3hjwKcD3Z-KX4W_0MhZJdpEwK53Oj2ZZCo8bylUgmzQsr_NpoywWxzci_ck0XCJDnEILbtAYfH3n7GFHTgMfneMN/s1600/header%20footer7.jpg" width="140" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">* Charles William King, whose
1908 translation this is, tells us that Demetrius was sent to the islands of
Britain by Trajan (who was emperor from 98 – 117 CE) and suggests that one of the
islands may be Anglesey – ‘the focus of Druidism’ – since only ‘holy men’ are
said to inhabit it. Could there still have been druids on Anglesey at the end
of the 1st century CE? I suppose it’s possible, even after the 60-61 CE
invasion by Suetonius Paulinus (busily burning the sacred groves just before
news of the Boudiccan rebellion reached him), and that of Agricola in 77 CE.
Druidism might well have hung on for quite a while, as the account goes on to
explain that the cave of Cronus is a centre for oracles and prophecies described as ‘the dreams of Cronus’.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;"><u>Picture credits</u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Sleeping King Arthur: illustration by Eric Fraser for 'English Legends' by Henry Bett</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">'They stared at him': illustration to Rip van Winkle by Arthur Rackham</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Barbarossa in the Kyffhauser: artist unknown</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Oisin and Niamh by Richard Hook: see <a href="https://littleisobel.com/home/2011/10/12/richard-hook-great-folk-tales-of-old-ireland/">https://littleisobel.com/home/2011/10/12/richard-hook-great-folk-tales-of-old-ireland/</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Oisin meets Patrick: <a href="Irish legends that I did with Marie Heaney, The Names Upon The Harp.">illustration by P L Lynch for 'The Names Upon the Harp' with Marie Heaney</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">The Death of King Arthur: painting by John Garrick, 1862</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">To the Stone of Erech: by <a href="https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Inger_Edelfeldt">Inger Edelfeldt</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">Rip van Winkle: by Arthur Rackham </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></p><p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-84025913470946907502023-09-07T05:08:00.012-07:002023-09-10T07:43:32.054-07:00Enchanted Sleep and Sleepers #2<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnl2caRUAqhBXDxDWAh9qjFKY_CWahSEowmuxduJ_l_vf4td4bcyimd7wj-oNAnCqjdHqb9L-SHeMxFzRAUAd4sRfSGDGp9i0g5OaskX69BNHBmI-OaVjdA1s0XlD8MpmdYeB0NC2BV0cRKJicB6MiSXNz0-VyjYj_pLxvcOUWmpTJxy2GjBur_rj0JTPk/s1200/Sleeping%20Beauty%20Edward%20Burne%20Jones.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="865" data-original-width="1200" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnl2caRUAqhBXDxDWAh9qjFKY_CWahSEowmuxduJ_l_vf4td4bcyimd7wj-oNAnCqjdHqb9L-SHeMxFzRAUAd4sRfSGDGp9i0g5OaskX69BNHBmI-OaVjdA1s0XlD8MpmdYeB0NC2BV0cRKJicB6MiSXNz0-VyjYj_pLxvcOUWmpTJxy2GjBur_rj0JTPk/w640-h462/Sleeping%20Beauty%20Edward%20Burne%20Jones.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">My last post concerned a
number of enchanted sleepers, all male, whose lengthy slumbers – however
inconvenient – were almost entirely benign, awarded by the gods or God in order
to save, enlighten or confer spiritual blessings upon them; and sometimes all
three, for even when the sleeper awakes only to die shortly afterwards, he does
so in a state of holiness or grace. This time I’m looking at enchanted sleep
narratives involving women, in which the motivation of the instigator is consistently malign and the dénoument is often far from satisfactory.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU69cerb1YpyDDMxQlGOgtjxevH0SJXrMxP4abpF1ZohqLebCHtu3ZKmxOYnYIiChp4PItSGZGbbRPoGuwLktSgCSwLOev2aB5ugAclqEKTJl-8DS8O3UiWjAfBXMQvP6EhN3NLjyUEsy7IOx96X3mwwlzHsUcy0U4HE1SPN7DJAqXKOL0s8FLyARtfDhU/s432/Sigurd%20Killing%20Fafnir.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="351" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU69cerb1YpyDDMxQlGOgtjxevH0SJXrMxP4abpF1ZohqLebCHtu3ZKmxOYnYIiChp4PItSGZGbbRPoGuwLktSgCSwLOev2aB5ugAclqEKTJl-8DS8O3UiWjAfBXMQvP6EhN3NLjyUEsy7IOx96X3mwwlzHsUcy0U4HE1SPN7DJAqXKOL0s8FLyARtfDhU/w325-h400/Sigurd%20Killing%20Fafnir.jpg" width="325" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sigurd kills Fafnir...<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">The poems known as the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Poetic Edda</i> are preserved in manuscripts
dating back to the 13<sup>th</sup> century CE but derive from much older oral
tradition. One of them, the ‘Lay of Fafnir’, tells how the hero Sigurd slays
the dragon Fafnir, cuts out and cooks the heart for the dragon’s treacherous human
brother Regin, and tests it with his finger to see if it’s done. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUln9kezCvngVBDOhohTxvNswWJHW-Td5DaMiYOJeMPB4moE39S6puUv9m9F2gRZ4A3Rajew_aneDcwT6gEcTIPHjsYmr6qFJKTkCrefsdcnW3vsKuL9r45mD4CG-Lj3feotjgkzxjwjcNqhXZcd5bon_mfdrJdKQfe5XXrhTZWUfJlzhLzXDDgrQZjY8/s432/Sigurd%20roasts%20Fafnir's%20heart%20The%20Sigurd%20Portal.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="360" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUln9kezCvngVBDOhohTxvNswWJHW-Td5DaMiYOJeMPB4moE39S6puUv9m9F2gRZ4A3Rajew_aneDcwT6gEcTIPHjsYmr6qFJKTkCrefsdcnW3vsKuL9r45mD4CG-Lj3feotjgkzxjwjcNqhXZcd5bon_mfdrJdKQfe5XXrhTZWUfJlzhLzXDDgrQZjY8/w334-h400/Sigurd%20roasts%20Fafnir's%20heart%20The%20Sigurd%20Portal.jpg" width="334" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and licks the blood from his thumb<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">After licking
the blood he understands the speech of birds – nuthatches – which warn him to
kill Regin, and direct him to the sleeping valkyrie Sigrdrifa. In the wonderful
translation by Carolyne Larrington: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There is a hall on high Hindarfell<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>outside it is all surrounded with flame;<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>wise men have made it <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>[...]<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I know on the mountain the battle-wise one sleeps<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>and the terror of the linden [fire] plays above her;<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Odin stabbed her with a thorn<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>[...]<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Young man, you shall see the girl under the helmet,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>who rode away from battle on Vingskornir.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sigdrifa’s sleep may not be broken,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>by a princely youth, except by the norns’ decree.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Poetic Edda, tr. Carolyne Larrington, OUP</i></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4JHZGw0_gygr1v-V5CYx6RaMAOPQqyLJoZd1bM7SaNPHklE5F9ib_tFYFQKtgBhfIbEBFufD_XgplUU9g4ky0jvUAoj5OsIrB31E3GMWA0rW7-h-g8z0JytWDr313t6hYg7gVs5aCQtZLmWWDTgSj5iMoTrf57NBtMk6Ei0MlHEbPcKHBgBFwsuXgLfhD/s579/Margaret_Fernie_Eaton,_Brunhilde_Asleep,_pyrography,_1902.tif.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="306" data-original-width="579" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4JHZGw0_gygr1v-V5CYx6RaMAOPQqyLJoZd1bM7SaNPHklE5F9ib_tFYFQKtgBhfIbEBFufD_XgplUU9g4ky0jvUAoj5OsIrB31E3GMWA0rW7-h-g8z0JytWDr313t6hYg7gVs5aCQtZLmWWDTgSj5iMoTrf57NBtMk6Ei0MlHEbPcKHBgBFwsuXgLfhD/w640-h338/Margaret_Fernie_Eaton,_Brunhilde_Asleep,_pyrography,_1902.tif.png" width="640" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Sigurd kills Regin,
loads his horse Grani with Fafnir’s treasure and rides off. The story continues
in ‘The Lay of Sigrdrifa:’ Sigurd climbs ‘high Hindarfell’ and finds the
valkyrie lying asleep surrounded by flames and a rampart of shields. Crossing
this barrier, Sigurd lifts off her helmet and with his sword Gram cuts away the
mail corselet which is biting into her flesh. Waking, she explains that in
revenge for the killing of a king to whom he had promised victory, Odin
‘pricked her with a sleep-thorn’ and told her that she would never again be
victorious in battle, but should marry instead. At Sigurd’s request, Sigrdrifa
confers wisdom on him by teaching him many runes. The manuscript then breaks
off, but the exact same story is told in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Volsunga
Saga</i> about the valkyrie Brynhild, who explains on waking:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">In the battle I struck down Hjalmgunnar, and in retaliation
Odin pricked me with the sleep thorn, said I should never again win a victory,
and that I was to marry. And in return I made a solemn vow to marry no one who
knew the meaning of fear. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Saga of the Volsungs, tr. Jesse L.
Byock, Penguin Classics</i></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">She and Sigurd exchange
vows. ‘Sigrdrifa’ appears in no other context, and Carolyne Larrington suggests
the two valkyries are identical. The tale goes on to utter catastrophe. Unwittingly
drinking a potion that makes him forget Brynhild, Sigurd marries Gudrun and
tricks Brynhild into marrying Gudrun’s brother Gunnar – impersonating him in
the test Brynhild sets her suitors, and leaping his horse through the ring of
flames surrounding her hall. When she finds out, a bloodbath ensues and
doubtless Odin is satisfied.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqpjnss_Pek1S4EUMbFNnBuX_Ekkh8o9ffICX0ePh5Kco9tMfZBVOSznRfxgl84Rtxx95PiLyIP22mDs4gX6AdMY32Ko84eVxr55YPKzcuXUzzHAFFf_f6tI243KFni3sCqv70LMUTjiGqpAWoMPRuMRUCkTD1DFCUxNvby6kMw9ELEI32xwhkpTKMel6/s1280/Sigurd_and_Gunnar_at_the_Fire_by_J._C._Dollman.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="872" data-original-width="1280" height="435" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqpjnss_Pek1S4EUMbFNnBuX_Ekkh8o9ffICX0ePh5Kco9tMfZBVOSznRfxgl84Rtxx95PiLyIP22mDs4gX6AdMY32Ko84eVxr55YPKzcuXUzzHAFFf_f6tI243KFni3sCqv70LMUTjiGqpAWoMPRuMRUCkTD1DFCUxNvby6kMw9ELEI32xwhkpTKMel6/w640-h435/Sigurd_and_Gunnar_at_the_Fire_by_J._C._Dollman.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sigurd and Gunnar at the ring of flames<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"><br /> </span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">But what is a
‘sleep-thorn’? Though ‘stabbed’ and ‘pricked’ by it, Sigrdrifa also refers to
‘sleep-runes’.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Long I slept, long was I sleeping,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>long are the woes of men;<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Odin brought it about that I could not break<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>the sleep-runes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>The Poetic Edda, tr.
Carolyne Larrington, OUP<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">I don’t know whether
it’s coincidental that ‘thorn’ is the name of the rune Þ (pronounced as a soft
‘th’), or that Odin, in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hávamal</i>,
seizes the runes or runelore after hanging nine nights on a mystical tree.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I know that I hung on a windswept tree<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">nine long nights,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">myself to myself,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">on that tree of which no man knows<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">from where its roots run.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">With no bread did they refresh me, nor a drink from a horn,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">downward I peered;<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I took up the runes, screaming I took them,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Then I fell back from there. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Poetic Edda, tr. Carolyne Larrington, OUP</i></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Whatever the runic
implications, a ‘sleep-thorn’ clearly also had physical form and appears in two
of the legendary sagas dated at least to the 15<sup>th</sup> century. In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hrólfs Saga Kraka</i>, Danish king Helgi
arrogantly imposes himself upon the warrior-queen Olof, announcing his
intention to marry her at once. ‘That evening there was hard drinking’, and
when the king collapses into bed with her, ‘The queen took advantage of this
and pierced him with a sleep-thorn; and the minute they [his retinue] were all
gone, up she got, shaved off all his hair, and daubed him with tar.’ I’m
cheering the queen on through this, and feel she was completely justified, but
sad to say the saga takes a different view: later on Helgi gets his revenge,
and the queen retaliates... In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gongu-Hrolf’s
Saga</i>, treacherous Vilhjálm pierces the sleeping Hrólf with a sleep-thorn,
cuts off his legs and kidnaps his bride-to-be. But the sleep-thorn falls out
when Hrólf’s faithful horse Dulcifal rolls him over, the dwarf Mondul heals
Hrólf’s legs, and the hero pursues his enemy, who confesses and is hanged.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Whatever a sleep-thorn
meant to medieval Icelanders, the Sigrdrifa/Brynhild story is remarkably close
to that of the best-known sleeper of all time, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Sleeping Beauty</i>: after having incurred the anger of a powerful
supernatural figure, a young woman is pricked by something sharp and falls into
a lengthy enchanted sleep, protected or imprisoned by a barrier no one can
cross except the hero appointed finally to wake her. </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Jacob Grimm in his </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><i>Teutonic Mythology</i></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> notes</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> that the German version of the tale, </span></span><i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Dorn-röschen</span></span></i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">, means literally </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">‘</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Thorn Rose</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">, and adds: </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">‘</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">The <i>thorn-rose</i> has a meaning here, for we still call a moss-like excrescence on the wild rosebush <i>schlaf-apfel </i>[sleep-apple]; so that the very name of our sleeping beauty contains a reference to the myth. [...] When placed under the sleeper's pillow, he cannot wake till it be removed.</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">’ Maybe this throws some light on the mystery?</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">The Sleeping Beauty pricks
her finger on a spindle, and when I was a child I assumed spindles must be
sharp. They aren’t, but the princess’s century-long sleep is guarded by an
impenetrable hedge of brambles or briars – which of course possess thorns. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsMkS6s_0xbX4egbyaV5x1drySUnJXr576h7f56Sbs-EFEjCA8vGBPiemajDfMs6jeUgoKrjiN4vEoKWbRugRpAyurSego5PEyTtedM1t3RYLCyXLGof3cArRd1fy_bYs-3yguGISPKL0dYUbZaOmLOtCrl2A1EHf1OvX0akW-t2xIKQ6IilXyzNV7aHA/s1731/Briar%20Rose%20hedge%20of%20thorns%20001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1731" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsMkS6s_0xbX4egbyaV5x1drySUnJXr576h7f56Sbs-EFEjCA8vGBPiemajDfMs6jeUgoKrjiN4vEoKWbRugRpAyurSego5PEyTtedM1t3RYLCyXLGof3cArRd1fy_bYs-3yguGISPKL0dYUbZaOmLOtCrl2A1EHf1OvX0akW-t2xIKQ6IilXyzNV7aHA/w640-h472/Briar%20Rose%20hedge%20of%20thorns%20001.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">In
earlier versions a splinter of flax causes the enchanted sleep. In the 14<sup>th</sup>
century French prose romance <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Perceforest</i>
(set in a pagan, pre-Arthurian world) a feast is given for the goddesses Venus,
Lucina and Thetis to celebrate the birth of the lady Zellandine. Offended
because she has not been presented with a knife to cut her food, Thetis ordains
that ‘from the first thread of linen that Zellandine spins from her distaff’, a
piece of flax will pierce the girl’s finger and she will fall into a long sleep.
How is flax sharp? Well, making linen thread involved soaking and drying the
flax stalks; the dried strands were then pulled through a toothed comb which
snapped the stiff outer sheaths into small shards which might easily become
embedded under a fingernail. This happens to Zellandine, and also to Talia, the
sleeping heroine of Giambattista Basile’s <a href="https://sites.pitt.edu/~dash/type0410.html#basile">‘The Sun, the Moon and Talia’</a>
published in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pentamerone </i>(1636).
Yet another instance of a flax-caused sleep comes in ‘The Ninth Captain’s Tale’
which has been attributed to the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">One
Thousand and One Nights </i>but does not belong there. Heidi Anne Heiner of the
wonderful website <a href="http://surlalunefairytales.blogspot.com/2010/07/sleeping-beauty-ninth-captains-tale-and.html">Sur La Lune</a> researched it, and found it was a Egyptian
folktale collected by the translator J.C. Marcius from an Egyptian cook
‘sometime prior’ to 1883. It tells of a girl whose mother begged Allah for a
child, even if she were to be so delicate that the scent of flax would choke
her. The girl is born ‘fair as the rising moon’, eventually learns to spin (to
show off her lovely fingers): a piece of flax gets stuck under her fingernail
and she falls swooning to the ground. (Midori Snyder’s excellent take on the
story can be read <a href="https://www.terriwindling.com/blog/2013/09/sleeping-beauty.html">here</a>.)</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">There is no way to
demonstrate lines of descent, but the Sigurd/Brynhild story was much recycled
in northern Europe, with additions and deletions according to taste. An example
is a Faroese ballad, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Brynhild’s Ballad</i>,
collected in 1851 but tentatively dated to the 14<sup>th</sup> century <a href="http://www.odins-gift.com/pclass/brynhildsballad.htm">(read it at this link)</a>, and it cleaves closely to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Volsunga Saga</i>. Informed by ‘wild birds’ that ‘fair is Brynhild Buđledaughter,/She
yearns for your encounter,’ Sigurd rides to find her:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">No one but brave Sigurd<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">entered Hildar-hill,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">he jumped through smoke and fiery-fire,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">he and his horse Grani. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>[...]<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There he saw that pretty maid<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>sleeping in her mail,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>raised his good and sharpened sword,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">and
cut the mail wide open.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Brynhild welcomes
Sigurd, but suggests he should first ask her father’s permission to sleep with
her. Sigurd replies that he doesn’t want to meet her father, and why should he
in any case, since, ‘You are not exactly known/to take your father’s advice.’
The ballad ends with Sigurd and the ‘mighty maid’ making love and conceiving
their daughter Ásla. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0qC4A1fm3PLaIUo-Dw2CqbV4nhv2ZjAfi0omv_EUB8FPUQrBCk6j_BEg5NVhSa7Sw_UbBy91H24ZMChmOiioaGrDr_JPJBujGmAupUQaQoO_qywNGsTzwZh2eLHYdBL29xn1X6uygLx-1vpTIJ6bI6d-PB6eDrQPq_8q-DE47UJwAwksyswcasprL5IvX/s470/princess-on-the-glass-mountain.jpg%20theodor-kittelsen.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="346" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0qC4A1fm3PLaIUo-Dw2CqbV4nhv2ZjAfi0omv_EUB8FPUQrBCk6j_BEg5NVhSa7Sw_UbBy91H24ZMChmOiioaGrDr_JPJBujGmAupUQaQoO_qywNGsTzwZh2eLHYdBL29xn1X6uygLx-1vpTIJ6bI6d-PB6eDrQPq_8q-DE47UJwAwksyswcasprL5IvX/w472-h640/princess-on-the-glass-mountain.jpg%20theodor-kittelsen.jpg" width="472" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">A later version is a 16<sup>th</sup> century Danish ballad
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sivard og Brynild </i>in which Sivard
rescues Brynild from a glass mountain (reminiscent of the fairytale ‘<a href="https://fairytalez.com/princess-glass-hill/">The Princess on the Glass Mountain’ </a>widespread across Norway, Sweden, Poland and
northern Germany). The ballad was translated by George Borrow and it was printed
in 1913 for private circulation as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Tale of Brynild, and King Valdemar and His Sister: Two Ballads</i> <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/28835/pg28835-images.html">(read it here)</a><span style="color: red;">.</span> It begins:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sivard he a colt has got,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The swiftest ’neath the sun;<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Proud Brynild from the Hill of Glass<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In open day he won.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Unto her did of knights and swains<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The very flower ride;<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Not one of them the maid to win<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Could climb the mountain’s side.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">From the fairytale
opening things go downhill fast: Sivard succeeds, but instead of marrying Brynild,
‘To bold Sir Nielus her he gave/To show him his regard’. Discovering that Sivard
has given a gold betrothal ring to the maiden Signelil, the angry Brynild demands
that Sir Nielus bring her Sivard’s head: naturally it all ends in another blood
bath.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">The lapse of time is implicit
in these tales but not made much of. Sigrdrifa says, ‘Long I slept, long was I
sleeping’ but we’re not told for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how</i>
long. The ‘valkyrie’ narratives focus on the tangled relationships, treachery and
bloody tragedies that develop after the enchanted sleep has ended. There is not
that sense of confusion, loneliness, loss, and the discovery of a changed world
experienced by many of the sleepers in my first post. Neither do any of the various
Sleeping Beauties experience such emotions. In both <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Perceforest</i> and the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pentamerone,
</i>the unconscious princess is raped by the prince and nine months later gives
birth, still sleeping – Zellandine to a baby boy, Talia to twins. Sucking at their
mother’s finger or breast, the babies suck out the splinter of flax, thus
waking her.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9X5NSixYcYaa_XQ-2skg0WzaBFnvCcXis8cacvhRUrRWDNUbn0tnGkmqVslEqUPWJV1JM1CRs5Ow80a4J-xmSWljf1yfktQjYv4MJT-oTNl0I3yoMZmnszP-DtvuPlxlyPBGoxwyawnSIDqZJrG_2k5i0MsWUugwhelKV-afgdBRY3zrRzEQGRKyVGSBD/s1200/Sleeping%20Beauty%20Daniel%20Maclise.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="687" data-original-width="1200" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9X5NSixYcYaa_XQ-2skg0WzaBFnvCcXis8cacvhRUrRWDNUbn0tnGkmqVslEqUPWJV1JM1CRs5Ow80a4J-xmSWljf1yfktQjYv4MJT-oTNl0I3yoMZmnszP-DtvuPlxlyPBGoxwyawnSIDqZJrG_2k5i0MsWUugwhelKV-afgdBRY3zrRzEQGRKyVGSBD/w640-h366/Sleeping%20Beauty%20Daniel%20Maclise.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">These busy, crowded
stories pay little or no attention to the lapse of time. Perrault’s ‘La Belle
au Bois Dormant’ (1697) sanitised and gentrified the tale to suit his
sophisticated <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">saloniste</i> audience: his
prince kneels ‘with trembling admiration’ at the bedside of the princess and
dares not even kiss her. And the princess feels no shock at missing a century:
her entire household shares her sleep, from her ladies-in-waiting down to the
kitchen boy, dogs, horses and even the flies on the wall: her society wakes
with her. She doesn’t even miss her parents (not included in the slumber spell and
now long dead), and Perrault’s single gesture towards the length of time she’s slept
is an arch reference to the out-moded fashion of her dress. In the 1729 English
translation by Robert Samber:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">She was intirely dress’d, and very magnificently, but they
took care not to tell her, that she was drest like my great-grandmother, and
had a point band peeping over a high collar; she looked not a bit the less
beautiful and charming for all that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Classic Fairy Tales</i>, Iona & Peter Opie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Perrault adapts Basile’s
continuation of the story as follows: princess and prince marry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have two children named Morning and Day.
The prince becomes king and goes away to war; his mother, an ogress, orders the
two children and their mother to be killed, and cooked for her to eat. The
‘clerk of the kitchen’ hides the victims, substituting a lamb, a kid and a hind:
the ogress discovers the trick and orders the three to be flung into a tub full
of poisonous snakes. At this moment the king returns, and the ogress jumps into
the tub herself, saving him the trouble of executing her. When I was a child I
rather enjoyed this gruesome ending; nowadays I’m amused by the complacent
civility of the tale’s last sentence – ‘[The King] could not but be sorry, for
she was his mother, but he soon comforted himself with his beautiful wife, and
his pretty children.’ God forbid that any character of Perrault’s should suffer violent emotion.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">From Sigrdrifa in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Poetic Edda</i> to Perrault’s Sleeping
Beauty in the Wood, these tales are far less interested in the enchanted sleep
itself, or how that lost time might affect the sleeper, than they are in the
various dramatic events that take place once she wakes into a world which to
all intents and purposes is no different from the one she fell asleep in. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">With one exception:
‘Dorn-röschen’ the Grimms’ version of the Sleeping
Beauty in the Wood. It's usually translated into English as</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> ‘Little Briar Rose’: </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Iona and Peter Opie have unflatteringly compared this very short
tale with that of Perrault's lengthy one, stating that it ‘possesses little of the quality
of the French tale’. Well, I beg to differ. Perrault’s good Fairy engages in a
relentless bustle of activity: she touches her wand individually to every
inhabitant of the castle to send them to sleep, she conjures up the hedge of
briars ‘in a quarter of an hour’ – and the reader has barely time to draw
breath before the hundred years are done: in the very next paragraph ‘At the
expiration of a hundred years, the son of a King’ arrives, spots the towers
from a distance and comes to investigate. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">In contrast, this is how the Grimms’
tale introduces the century of sleep:</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">But round about the castle there began to grow a hedge of
thorns, which every year became higher, and at last grew up close around the
castle and all over it, so that there was nothing of it to be seen, not even
the flag upon the roof. But the story of the beautiful sleeping ‘Briar-rose’,
for so the princess was named, went about the country, so that from time to
time Kings’ sons came and tried to get through the thorny hedge into the castle.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But they
found it impossible, for the thorns held fast together, as if they had hands,
and the youths were caught in them, could not get loose again, and died a
miserable death. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After
long, long years a King’s son came again into that country, and heard an old
man talking about the thorn-hedge, and that a castle was said to stand behind
it in which a wonderfully beautiful princess, names Briar-rose, had been asleep
for a hundred years, and that the king and queen and the whole court were
asleep likewise.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmAlxxD-aN0eWoz3HLkhdiP-l1txeVaf0GYs9X4KfnNz1IkOPBtgP7YBEArphSKbRo-lyzG0fHYTbHz1xdFHpFbWNLy4gZclxmP1O_4z_DjCjB-0kGBdgCA_nBnsGDPK0ZjXkmUtFwv4uGPd0RzQLa4qnzXXFSDSjv_TnMOL_oPeXSg_t_bn8wFNTZMAc3/s1703/Briar%20Rose%20Thorn%20Rose%20Errol%20le%20Caine%20001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1703" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmAlxxD-aN0eWoz3HLkhdiP-l1txeVaf0GYs9X4KfnNz1IkOPBtgP7YBEArphSKbRo-lyzG0fHYTbHz1xdFHpFbWNLy4gZclxmP1O_4z_DjCjB-0kGBdgCA_nBnsGDPK0ZjXkmUtFwv4uGPd0RzQLa4qnzXXFSDSjv_TnMOL_oPeXSg_t_bn8wFNTZMAc3/w640-h480/Briar%20Rose%20Thorn%20Rose%20Errol%20le%20Caine%20001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">There is room to
breathe. I love the slow, natural pace by which the hedge of thorns grows up
and around the castle until it’s completely hidden; I love the way the story,
now almost a legend, spreads around the countryside so that ‘from time to time’
young princes come to try their luck, only to perish and be in turn forgotten;
how at last ‘after long, long years’ the century of sleep is over and the time comes
for the spell to be broken. To compare ‘Little Briar Rose’ with ‘La Belle au
Bois Dormant’ is pointless: all the two stories have in common is the bare
bones of the plot. The Grimms’ tale is not witty or fashionable, it does not
strive either to amuse or to horrify, it’s not interested in characterisation. Rather,
it places the hundred years’ sleep at the heart and centre of the tale and in
its deceptive simplicity it is a meditation upon time.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">In my next post I’ll be
looking at folktales of kings sleeping under hills, sleeping armies, and, because
the experience of lost time is so similar to that of enchanted sleepers, at
some of the many tales in which a seemingly short visit to fairyland or the
otherworld turns out to have lasted years or centuries. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;"><u>Picture credits:</u></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;">The Sleeping Beauty by Edward Burne Jones - Manchester Art Gallery<u><br /></u></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;">Brunnhilde Asleep by Margaret Fernie Eaton, 1902</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;">Sigurd Kills Fafnir and Sigurd Roasts Fafnir's Heart - <a href="https://sites.pitt.edu/~dash/sigurddoor.html">from the Sigurd Portal</a> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;">Sigurd and Gunnar at the ring of flames by J.C. Dolman, 1909 </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;">The Hedge of Thorns by Errol le Cain, 'Thorn Rose' 1975<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;">The Princess on the Glass Mountain by Theodor Kittelsen, 1857 - 1914</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;">The Sleeping Beauty by Daniel Maclise - Hartlepool Museums & Heritage Service</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;">The Prince and the Old Man by Errol le Cain, 'Thorn Rose', 1975 <br /></span></p><p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-34775334103454535302023-08-24T04:28:00.005-07:002023-08-24T12:09:20.221-07:00Enchanted Sleep and Sleepers #1<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZ8HyrzG9ciEBs3s0GUwag1FbJ4DR-VBKo4FGsggPUtSl014SEO4GBwcw0_KjcBzCeEIQi8Rp09Av5IwW3Rb_f0DWNEOWbezQSY74oTomzLvWwOhp6prQQ3Y78emKIn3mnMI0sXb5MvfARVJN3-c75ml19wCeQAxWi445Lv-YJ_FhzlZnF3YBPme06CL7/s1076/Seven_sleepers_(Menologion_of_Basil_II).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="746" data-original-width="1076" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZ8HyrzG9ciEBs3s0GUwag1FbJ4DR-VBKo4FGsggPUtSl014SEO4GBwcw0_KjcBzCeEIQi8Rp09Av5IwW3Rb_f0DWNEOWbezQSY74oTomzLvWwOhp6prQQ3Y78emKIn3mnMI0sXb5MvfARVJN3-c75ml19wCeQAxWi445Lv-YJ_FhzlZnF3YBPme06CL7/w640-h444/Seven_sleepers_(Menologion_of_Basil_II).jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
<o:TargetScreenSize>1024x768</o:TargetScreenSize>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">This is the first of a series of posts on enchanted sleep and sleepers in mythology,
legends, the eddas, sagas, fairy tales and folklore. And to begin as as close to
the beginning as I can, the earliest tale of an enchanted sleep I know is that of
the 7<sup>th</sup> or 6<sup>th</sup> century BCE philosopher Epimenides, recorded
by Diogenes Laertius in his 3<sup>rd</sup> century CE <i>Lives of Eminent Philosophers</i>. Epimenides is far enough in the
past for <i>any</i> story about him to be of
dubious historicity, but we're told he was a Cretan of Knossos. As a young man: <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">He was sent by his father into the fields to look for a
sheep, turned off the road at mid-day and lay down in a certain cave and fell
asleep, and slept there fifty-seven years; and after that, when he awoke, he
went on looking for the sheep, thinking that he had taken a short nap; but as
he could not find it, he went on to the field and there he found everything
changed, and the estate in another person’s possession, and so he came back
again to the city in great perplexity, and as he was going into his own house
he met some people who asked him who he was, until at last he found his younger
brother, who had now become an old man, and from him he learned all the truth. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span>And when he
was recognised he was considered by the Greeks as a person especially beloved
by the gods... <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">‘Beloved by the gods’ would
be down to the belief that Zeus was born in a cave on Crete, where his mother
Rhea hid from his father Cronos who had the bad habit of devouring his offspring. Epimenides’
sleep was therefore presumed sacred or god-sent. He became a seer and
philosopher, and the Athenians called him to help them when the city was
afflicted by a plague in the year of the 16<sup>th</sup> Olympiad (596 BCE). Diogenes
attributes various works to him, only one fragment of which has survived. <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">In the <i>Bhagavata Purana</i> (dated as written text
from the 8<sup>th</sup> to 10<sup>th</sup> centuries CE but based on far
older oral traditions) King Mucukunda aids the <i>devas</i>, benevolent heavenly spirits, in their war against the
malevolent <i>asuras</i>. When at last the
devas win, Indra their lord reveals to the king that an entire age of the world
has passed, along with everyone he has known, but offers in recompense any gift
within his power to give. The king, grief-stricken and weary, asks for unbroken
sleep and for anyone who disturbs his slumber to turn to ashes. This Indra
grants, and the king falls asleep in a cave. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji9OWjzZV6bAJk0IgUPheCO_rEGUeYgJNyZRShHyuiDcvcN11bpavs9XZdwfNlqcftevjoeW0Q9t-6GDIAQd7-XyEWr7vkpoXTtBKPPb8vfSOPde8uBKpKRWuT_EKIfEC8q8O9KUgFoUHr4pZl5_Q-L9oxv7rKWmvYR2xTXM1TAXchXJqyhvIah5Ipha-5/s1000/Mucukunda%20wakes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="759" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji9OWjzZV6bAJk0IgUPheCO_rEGUeYgJNyZRShHyuiDcvcN11bpavs9XZdwfNlqcftevjoeW0Q9t-6GDIAQd7-XyEWr7vkpoXTtBKPPb8vfSOPde8uBKpKRWuT_EKIfEC8q8O9KUgFoUHr4pZl5_Q-L9oxv7rKWmvYR2xTXM1TAXchXJqyhvIah5Ipha-5/w486-h640/Mucukunda%20wakes.jpg" width="486" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Thousands of years later the god
Krisha lures his enemy Kalayavana into the dark cave where, mistaking the
sleeping Mucukunda for Krishna, Kalayavana kicks and wakes him. The king’s
opening eyes burn him to ashes. Krishna next instructs Mucukunda on how to
cleanse himself of sin, concluding, ‘O King, in your very next life you will
become an excellent <i>brahmana</i>, the
greatest well-wisher of all creatures, and certainly come to Me alone.’ On
leaving the cave, Mucukunda notices that ‘the size of all the human beings,
animal, trees and plants’ are far smaller now than before his long sleep. <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">A story from the Babylonian
Talmud (c. 200 - 400 CE) concerns the sage Honi HaMe’agel (Honi the
Circle-maker), a historical character of the 1<sup>st</sup> century CE. The
nickname was given him when during a drought, he drew a circle in the dust
and told God that he would not step out of it until it rained. God obliged with
a drizzle. Honi complained this was not enough; God sent a downpour. Honi then begged
for a ‘moderate rain’, and God kindly reduced the flow. ‘Troubled throughout his life
concerning the meaning of the verse, “When the Lord brought back those that
returned to Zion, we were like dreamers,”(Psalm 126)’, Honi wondered how it was
possible for seventy years (the period of the Babylonian exile) to be like a dream:
‘How could anyone sleep for seventy years?’ <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">One day Honi was journeying on the road and he saw a man
planting a carob tree. He asked, ‘How long does it take to bear fruit?’ The man
replied, ‘Seventy years.’ Honi then asked him, ‘Are you certain you will live
another seventy years?’ The man replied, ‘I already found carob trees in the
world; as my forefathers planted those for me, so I too plant these for my
children.’</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span>Honi then
sat down to eat, and sleep overcame him. As he slept, a rocky formation
enclosed upon him which hid him from sight and he slept for seventy years. When
he awoke he saw a man gathering the fruit of the carob tree, and asked him,
‘Are you the man who planted the tree?’ The man replied, ‘I am his grandson.’ </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">When Honi returned, no
one recognised him, or believed him when he tried to identify himself;
distraught, he prayed for mercy and died. But the Jerusalem Talmud tells the story
differently: ‘Near the time of the destruction of the [First] Temple,’ Honi set
out to oversee his workers on a mountain, and went into a cave to shelter from
rain. There he fell asleep and remained for seventy years ‘until the Temple was
destroyed and it was rebuilt a second time.’ At the end of this time he woke
and ‘saw a world completely changed.’ Vineyards had been replaced by olives,
olives by fields of grain. On learning what had happened during his sleep he
went to the Temple and recited the verse: ‘When the Lord restored the fortune
of Zion, we were like those who dream.’ </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibvTbQBlmnKI40kwQPzMEe26_oMxMdZmLm2ahBmd1b3HgaoQ1Vs73jg1kMNJofkyeIh5Uq1UZ8ZlkGfS2c15psCvFeqCJXRX64kGnhHlCwKgxw79zotqUxi1_GePztnycYSxgUJ_bThZygemHGasJc4OqsE9wNoNmvAXvcueQMqcd9falMf5KxpOq_6Xuz/s352/Bird%20medieval%20British%20Library%2013th%20century.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="352" data-original-width="333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibvTbQBlmnKI40kwQPzMEe26_oMxMdZmLm2ahBmd1b3HgaoQ1Vs73jg1kMNJofkyeIh5Uq1UZ8ZlkGfS2c15psCvFeqCJXRX64kGnhHlCwKgxw79zotqUxi1_GePztnycYSxgUJ_bThZygemHGasJc4OqsE9wNoNmvAXvcueQMqcd9falMf5KxpOq_6Xuz/w379-h400/Bird%20medieval%20British%20Library%2013th%20century.png" width="379" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">A 12<sup>th</sup> or 13<sup>th</sup>
century CE manuscript owned by Kiel University (S.H. 8A 8vo) contains a similar
and charming story. An unnamed monk was meditating on the psalm, ‘The mercies
of the Lord I will sing forever’ (Psalm 89) when a beautiful little bird led
him out of the cloister into a wood, where it flew into a tree and began
singing so wonderfully that the monk was entranced. When it had finished its
song and flown away he made his way back to the monastery, but the buildings
were utterly changed, no one knew him, and he was accused of being an imposter.
On checking the records however, the current abbot realised that that the monk
had lived there two hundred years before. <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Then the monk became aware that he was seized by God ...
and that the sweet birdsong had delighted him throughout so many years that he
completely forgot food, drink or sleep. From then on the monk was received with
great veneration and retired within the same sacred monastery. <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Though this monk doesn’t
actually fall asleep, he certainly experiences the lapse of time in a very dream-like
trance. The story of the <i>Seven Sleepers of
Ephesus</i> dates from at least the 6<sup>th</sup> century CE and is extant in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Sleepers">numerous Islamic and Christian versions</a>. The basic Christian story tells how, escaping persecution for their faith during
the reign of the Emperor Decius, seven Christian youths take refuge in a
mountain cave where they pray and fall asleep. The Emperor has the cave sealed
up with them inside. More than two centuries later the cave is opened by a
landowner who wishes to stall cattle there, and the sleepers wake, imagining
only a day has passed. Finding that Ephesus is now a Christian city, they tell
their story to the bishop, and die praising God. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">I can’t resist adding
that in her children’s novel <i>The Silver
Curlew </i>(an adaptation of the Norfolk folktale <i>Tom Tit Tot</i>) Eleanor Farjeon uses the Seven Sleepers in a spell
cast by the Man in the Moon, Charlee, to rescue the heroine Poll from the
wicked Spindle-Imp and his coven of Queer Things. <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">And now strange words seemed to swim through the pipe with
the tune, but whether Charlee was breathing them as he blew, or whether the
moon-misty notes had a tongue of their own, Poll could not have said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span>‘<i>Malchus...</i> ’ breathed the pipe. ‘<i>Martinian ... Serapion...’</i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span></span></i><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">The Queer Things swayed like shadows, and
Rackny yawned.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span><i>The Spell of the Seven Sleepers </i>(breathed
the pipe)</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span><i>I put upon your peepers, </i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span>The sevenfold spell of the Sleepers</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span>In Ephesus long gone.</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span>Malchus ... Maximinian...</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span>Dionysius ... John... </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span>Constantine ... Martinian ... </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span>And Serapion...</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">What did the strange spell mean? But what did it matter?
The Queer Things were nodding now, their heads flopping from side to side,
their heavy eyelids lolling up and down. [...] ‘Two hundred nine-and-twenty
years shall you lie there,’ murmured Charlee to the sleepers. <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Leaving Eleanor Farjeon aside, almost all these
accounts have four things in common: an implied intervention by a god or other religious
supernatural power; a cave; a world that has visibly changed since their sleep
began; and an all-male cast who reap spiritual benefit from their experiences. There
seemed nothing special about Epimenides before his oddly specific 57 year sleep
in – it seems to have been assumed – Zeus’s cave: but afterwards he is
god-touched and becomes a philosopher important enough to be called upon by the
Athenians in their hour of need. King Mucukunda assists Indra and his devas
against the evil asuras, sleeps thousands of years in a cave and wakes to meet
Krishna and become a Brahman. After pondering the meaning of a psalm, the
Jewish sage Honi sleeps for seventy years in either a ‘rocky formation’ which
grows up around him or else in a mountain cave. Though not specified it’s
implicit that God has sent this experience. Minus the cave, the same is true
for the monk who spends two centuries listening to the bird. ‘Seized by God’,
he does not immediately die but is treated with ‘great veneration’ by the
abbey. The Seven Sleepers of Ephesus slumber in their cave for two or three
centuries: on waking to find themselves in a Christian world, there is no more
for them to do but ‘praise God and die’. </span><span style="color: red; font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Caves are dark, quiet
and secret places into which people might well disappear, and as such they recur
frequently in enchanted sleep narratives. There are more to come. In my next
post I’ll be looking at some of the more malevolent occurrences of sleep-spells, such as
that cast on the valkyrie who pre-figures the Sleeping Beauty. <span> </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><u>Picture credits</u></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Seven Sleepers: Menologion of Basil II <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Sleepers#/media/File:Seven_sleepers_(Menologion_of_Basil_II).jpg">Wikipedia</a></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">King Mucukunda burns Kalayavana: <a href="https://www.sanskritimagazine.com/when-lord-krishna-killed-kalayavana/">Artist unknown</a> <br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Bird (bluetit?): 13th C Medieval ms. <a href="https://www.bl.uk/catalogues/illuminatedmanuscripts/ILLUMIN.ASP?Size=mid&IllID=39459">British Library</a> <br /></span></span></p>
Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-63001989351068431402023-08-03T04:18:00.001-07:002023-08-03T12:01:16.349-07:00'The Homestead Westward in the Blue Mountains' by Jonas Lie<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdGxiIuqlwF5RsS6tDT085AweLuLi13gbSmd17D-PZmHJC7J-qXzfkDOnssWYz3OYquY3PmDwwOpPgBq4d_yzXYxhB_vuuZuSgyMWZ5owmzgmzpU4nlN422C0n4d4P_EwLCZ-xkTYp7z5NXbx85faHLXqCUggnO_8hHXKU17EncNqEWEgNm6W7Ff9Ta2R/s1406/Homestead%20in%20the%20Blue%20Mountains%20001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1406" data-original-width="987" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdGxiIuqlwF5RsS6tDT085AweLuLi13gbSmd17D-PZmHJC7J-qXzfkDOnssWYz3OYquY3PmDwwOpPgBq4d_yzXYxhB_vuuZuSgyMWZ5owmzgmzpU4nlN422C0n4d4P_EwLCZ-xkTYp7z5NXbx85faHLXqCUggnO_8hHXKU17EncNqEWEgNm6W7Ff9Ta2R/w450-h640/Homestead%20in%20the%20Blue%20Mountains%20001.jpg" width="450" /></a></div><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0cm;
mso-para-margin-right:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0cm;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0cm;
mso-para-margin-right:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0cm;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Jonas Lie</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> was </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">a contemporary of Ibsen, born 1833 at Hvokksund,
not far from Oslo, but spent much of his childhood at Tromsø, inside the Arctic
Circle. He was sent to naval college, but poor eyesight made him unsuited
for a life at sea, so he became a lawyer and began to write and publish poems
and novels which reflected Norwegian life, folklore and nationalism. </span>A
collection of his short stories based on Norwegian and Finnish legends, <span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">'Weird Tales from Northern Seas',</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> was published in English in 1893</span>. This is
one of them. Other tales from the same collection can be found <a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2011/07/fairytale-reflections-25-weird-tales.html">here</a>, and <a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2022/12/jack-of-sjoholm-and-gan-finn-by-jonas.html">here</a>. <span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></span></p>
<br /><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">There was once a
farmer’s son who was off to Moen for the annual manoeuvres. He was to be the
drummer, and his way lay right across the mountains. There he could practise
his drumming at his ease, and beat his tattoos again and again without making
folks laugh – or having a parcel of small boys dangling after him like so many
midges.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Every time he passed a mountain homestead he beat his
rat-tat-a-tat to bring the girls out, and they stood and hung about and gaped
after him at all the farmhouses.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was in the middle of the hottest summer weather. He
had been practising his drumming from early in the morning, till he had grown
quite sick and tired of it. And now he was toilng up a steep cliff, and had
slung his drum over his shoulder and stuck his drumsticks in his bandlolier. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The sun baked and broiled upon the hills; but in the
clefts there was a coolness such as you get by a rushing waterfall. The hills
were covered in bilberries all the way up, and he bent down so often to pick
whole handfuls that it took him a long time to get to the top. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then he came to a hilly slope where the ferns stood high
and there were lots of birch bushes. It was so nice and shady there, he
thought, and he couldn’t for the life of him resist taking a rest. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He took off his drum, put his jacket behind his head and
his cap over his face, and went off to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But as he lay dozing there, he dreamt that someone was
tickling him under the nose with a grassblade. He quickly sat up, and was sure
he heard someone laughing and giggling. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The sun by now had begun to cast oblique shadows, and far
down below, towards the valleys, lay the warm steaming vapours, creeping
upwards in long drawn-out gossamer bands and ribbons of mist. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As he reached behind him for his jacket, he saw a snake,
which lay and looked at him with such sharp quick eyes. But when he threw a
stone at it, it caught its tail in its mouth and rolled away like a wheel. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Again there was a laughing and sniggering among the bushes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And now he heard it coming from some birch trees which
stood in such wonderful sunlight, for they were filled with the rain and fine
drizzle of a waterfall. The waterdrops glittered and sparkled so that he could
hardly see the trees properly. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But something was moving about in them, and he could
swear it looked like a slim pretty girl, laughing and making fun of him, and
peeping at him from under her hand because of the sun, and her sleeves were
tucked up. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And a moment later he glimpsed a dark blue blouse moving
behind the twigs. He was after it in an instant. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He ran and ran till he was almost ready to give up, but
then glimpsed a dress and a bare shoulder between a gap in the leaves. Off he
pelted again as hard as he could, and just as he began to wonder if it was all
imagination, he saw her cornered against the green bushes. Her hair had torn
loose from her plaits from the speed with which she had flown through the
branches, and she looked back at him, pretending to be terribly frightened. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She was holding his drumsticks! She should pay for that,
he thought, and off they ran again, she in front and he behind. But she kept
turning around, laughing and jeering at him, and tossing and twisting her head
so that it looked as if her long wavy hair were writhing and wriggling and
twisting like a serpent’s tail. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At the top of the hill she stopped by a fence and waved
the drumsticks at him, laughing. Now he was determined to catch her, but before
he could grab her she was through the fence, and he tumbled after her into the
enclosure of a homestead. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Randi, and Brandi, and Gyri, and Gunna!’ the girl cried
up to the house. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And four girls came rushing down over the greensward. The
last of them had a fine rosy face and heavy golden-red hair, and greeted him
graciously with downcast eyes, as if she was quite distressed that they should
play such naughty pranks with a strange young man. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She stood there quite shy and uncertain, poor thing! just
like a child who doesn’t know whether to say something or not. She sidled
nearer till she was so close her hair almost touched him, and then she opened
her blue eyes wide and looked straight at him. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">But
she had a frightfully sharp look in those eyes of hers. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“Better
come with me and you shall have dancing – or are you too tired, lad?” cried a
girl with blue-black hair and a wild dark fire in her eyes. She skipped up and
down and slapped her rump; she had white teeth and hot breath, and would have
dragged him off with her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“Tie
yourself up behind first, black Gyri!” giggled the others, and immediately she
let the lad go and wobbled away backwards, twisting her hands behind her back.
He couldn’t help staring: she writhed uncomfortably as if she were hiding
something behind her and was suddenly so quiet. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">But
the fine bright girl whom he had chased, the prettiest of them all with the
slender waist, began to laugh and tease him again. “Run as you like, you’ll
never catch me,” she jibed and jeered, “nor your drumsticks either.” But then
her mood shifted right round and she flung herself on the ground, sobbing.
She’d followed him all day, she cried, and never had heard any fellow who could
beat a rat-tat-a-tat so well, nor ever seen a lad so handsome as he slept. “I
kissed you then,” said she, and smiled up at him sadly. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“Beware
of the snake’s tongue, lest it bite you! It caresses before it stings,”
whispered the shy girl with the golden-red hair, stealing softly up. And all at
once the boy remembered the snake on the hillside, as slender and supple as the
girl who lay there weeping and mocking at the same time, with the same sharp,
cunning eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">Now a
bent, clumsy little figure stuck her head in between them, and smiled bashfully
at him as if she knew and could tell him so much. Her eyes held a deep, inward
sparkle and over her face passed a sort of pale golden gleam, like the last
sunbeam fading over the hilltop. “At my place,” said she, “you shall hear music
such as no-one else has ever heard. You will hear all that sings and laughs and
cries in the roots of trees, and in the mountains and in everything that grows,
so that you will never care about anything else in the world.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">Then
the boy heard a scornful laugh, and up on a rock he saw a tall, strong girl
with a gold band in her hair. With powerful arms she lifted a huge wooden horn,
threw back her head and blew a blast as strong as the rock on which she stood:
it sounded far and wide through the summer evening, and echoes rang to and fro
across the hills. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">But
the pretty girl on the ground stuck her fingers in her ears and mimicked the
sound and laughed and jeered. Then she peered up at him through her ash-blond
hair and murmured, “If you want me, you’ll have to pull me up.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“She
has a strong grip for a girl,” thought he, as he did so – “But first you’ll
have to catch me!” cried she, and raced for the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">Suddenly
she stopped, crossed her arms and looked straight into his eyes. “Do you like
me?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">He had
hold of her now, and couldn’t say no to that. “You’ll have to decide on this,
father,” she shouted in the direction of the house. “The boy wants to marry
me!” And she dragged him hastily towards the hut door. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">There
sat a little, grey-clad old fellow with a cap on his head like a milk-can,
staring at the livestock on the mountainside. He had a large silver jug in
front of him. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“It’s
the homestead westward of the Blue Mountains that he’s after, I know,” said the
old man, nodding his head with a sly look in his eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“Is
it, now?” thought the boy, understanding at last. Aloud he said, “It’s a great
offer, I know, but surely too soon to decide. Down our way, the usual thing is
to send go-betweens first of all, to see matters properly arranged.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“You <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">did </i>send two ahead of you, and here they
are!” the girl said promptly, and she brandished his two drumsticks. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“And
with us, it’s customary to look over the property first, however smart the girl
may be,” he added. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">Then
she shrank into herself and there was a nasty green glitter in her eyes – <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“Haven’t
you run after me the livelong day, and courted me right down there in the
enclosure, where my father could hear and see it all?” cried she.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“Most
pretty lasses hold back a bit,” said the boy, seeing that it wasn’t all love in
this wooing. Then she bent backwards in a complete circle and shot forward her
head and neck, and her eyes glittered. But the old fellow lifted his stick from
his knees, and she stood upright again, merry and sportive as ever, with her
hands in her silver girdle, and looked in his eyes and laughed, and asked if he
was one of those fellows who were afraid of girls? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“If
you want me, you might be run right off those legs of yours,” she joked, and
skipped and curtseyed, making fun of him again. But behind her he saw her
shadow whisking and frisking in circles on the grass like a long, coiling
ribbon. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">They
seemed in a great hurry to get him under their yoke, he thought, but a soldier
on his way to the manoeuvres is not to be married off-hand. “I came here for my
drumsticks, not looking for a wife, and I’ll thank you to hand them back.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“Not
so fast. Look about you first, young man,” said the old fellow, and as he
pointed with his stick the drummer boy saw mountain pastures full of dun cows
grazing, with cow-bells clonking and the prettiest of milkmaids carrying bright
copper buckets. There was wealth here for sure. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“Maybe
this dowry of mine in the Blue Mountains doesn’t seem much to you,” said the
girl, sitting down beside him. “But we’ve four such <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">saeter</i> as this, and what I inherit from my mother is twelve times
as large.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">But
the drummer had seen what he had seen. They were rather too anxious to settle
the property upon him, he thought. So he declared that in such a serious
matter, he needed a little time for consideration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">The
lass began to cry, and take on, and accused him of trying to fool a poor innocent
young thing and pursue her, and drive her out of her wits. She had trusted him,
she said, and fell a-howling and rocking with her hair all over her eyes, till
at last the drummer began to feel quite sorry for her and almost angry with
himself. But when she looked at him with those sharp, glinting eyes, it was as
if he saw again the snake under the birch trees down on the hillside when it
curled into a hoop and rolled away. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">Then
she reared up hissing, and a long tail whisked about behind her from underneath
her skirts. “You won’t get away from me like that!” she shrieked. “I’ll have
you dragged in shame from parish to parish!” And she called her father.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">The
drummer felt a grip on his jacket. He was lifted right off his legs and chucked
into an empty cow-house, and the door was shut behind him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">There
he stood and had nothing to look at but an old billy-goat through a crack in
the door, who had odd yellow eyes and looked very much like the old fellow, and
a sunbeam through a little hole, which crept higher and higher up the blank
stable wall till late in the evening, when it went out altogether.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">But
towards night a voice outside said softly, “Boy! boy!” and in the moonlight he
saw a little shadow cross the hole. “Hush! the old man is sleeping outside on the
other side of the wall,” it said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">He
recognised the voice: it was the golden-red one who had seemed so shy. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“All
you need to do is say you know Snake-eyes has had a lover before, or they
wouldn’t be in such a hurry to get her off their hands with a dowry. The
homestead westward in the Blue Mountains is mine, so tell the old man that it
was me, Brandi, you were after all the time. Hush, here he comes,” she
whispered, and whisked away.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">But a
shadow again fell across the little knot-hole in the moonlight, and the
duck-necked one peeped in at him. “Boy, are you awake? Snake-eyes will make a
fool of you. She’s spiteful, and she stings. But the homestead westward in the
Blue Mountains is mine, and when I play there the gates under the high mountains
fly open and show the way to the nameless powers of nature. Just say it was I,
Randi, you were running after, because you love her songs. Hush, the old man is
stirring by the wall!” – and she was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">A
little afterwards nearly every bit of the hole was darkened, and he recognised
the dark one by her voice. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“Boy,
boy!” she hissed. “I had to tie my skirts up behind today, so we couldn’t go
dancing the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halling-fling</i>. But the
homestead in the Blue Mountains is lawfully mine, so tell the old man it was
madcap Gyri you were running after today, because you love dancing jigs and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hallings</i>.” Then she clapped her hands
and was frightened she might have awakened the old man. And she was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">But
the lad sat inside there and watched the thin summer moon rise, and thought that
never in his life had he been in such trouble. And from time to time he heard
scraping and snorting against the wall outside, and knew it was the old fellow
who lay there and kept watch over him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“Are
you there, boy?” said another voice at the peephole. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">It was
the sturdy girl who had planted herself so firmly on the rock. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“For
three hundred years I have been blowing the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">langelur</i>
here in the summer evenings. Everything you see here is illusion and fairy
glamour: many a man has been fooled by it, but I won’t see the other girls
married before me. Rather than let one of them have you, I’ll set you free. Now
listen! When the sun is hot and high the old man will get frightened and crawl
into the shadows. Then’s your chance. Shove the door open hard and run, jump
over the fence, and you’ll be rid of us.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">As
soon as the sun began to burn, the drummer followed her advice. He cleared the
fence in one good bound and fled, and in no time he was down in the valley
again. He could hear the horn calling distantly in the mountains. But he slung
his drum over his shoulder and set off to the manoeuvres at Moen. And never
again did he beat his drum to call out the lasses from the farmsteads, for fear
he should find himself westwards in the Blue Mountains before his time. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEPLcRmcyFEc24bgLJrEs6RLJy-lKH3KNIkcImcy-geKjaUwiCL-NISN9my9HrWgkEvA_vquY-dkE3ESwt528FyhRSZaVr4eNnfzUnhClyUdrC3lN2hUvVAQ6F8Unq9BtFbZKtygq0NaZUZxPJC3lqnmlFedSAScIvh85u0x1Fy25iICckFGbN6FDqjHZ9/s200/header%20footer%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="115" data-original-width="200" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEPLcRmcyFEc24bgLJrEs6RLJy-lKH3KNIkcImcy-geKjaUwiCL-NISN9my9HrWgkEvA_vquY-dkE3ESwt528FyhRSZaVr4eNnfzUnhClyUdrC3lN2hUvVAQ6F8Unq9BtFbZKtygq0NaZUZxPJC3lqnmlFedSAScIvh85u0x1Fy25iICckFGbN6FDqjHZ9/s1600/header%20footer%202.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><br /></p><p></p><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>Picture credit:</u></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Illustration by Laurence Housman</span></div><div><br /></div>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-86929660222086140042023-07-27T03:35:00.002-07:002023-07-27T03:40:12.881-07:00The Pilot’s Ghost Story<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTFYnJHntjOpb9URVVKJyMYbCCbM-ntbLO1AC82VjsRgXbbp_ty99zQn4fOpZyfMWYo8RpLmKIQBaW8b7VSB9qdjyIJLuFZNXDtZ1dTHxL213fD1z9Nl5cWp8rdV_zX8w6-2fDF4IMGi6AccfUx2N5O6kc74rbK7Ci3hnoomfzEJhFpRqdUCG8TW8hWF4/s1600/st-ives-harbour-fish-market.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="974" data-original-width="1600" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTFYnJHntjOpb9URVVKJyMYbCCbM-ntbLO1AC82VjsRgXbbp_ty99zQn4fOpZyfMWYo8RpLmKIQBaW8b7VSB9qdjyIJLuFZNXDtZ1dTHxL213fD1z9Nl5cWp8rdV_zX8w6-2fDF4IMGi6AccfUx2N5O6kc74rbK7Ci3hnoomfzEJhFpRqdUCG8TW8hWF4/w640-h390/st-ives-harbour-fish-market.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Ives Harbour Fish Market: courtesy of https://www.cornwalls.co.uk<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: x-large;"> <br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Another tale from Robert
Hunt’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘Popular Romances of the West of
England, or The Drolls, Superstitions and Traditions of Old Cornwall’</i> (third
edition, 1896) was told orally to Charles Taylor Stephens, a poet and ‘sometime rural
postman from St Ives to Zennor’. Hunt employed Stephens to collect stories from
remote villages on the assumption that people would more readily tell tales to
the friendly postman than to a stranger. <br /></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FNYz2S8jx9hkd8xUF0lBnX1B7DSEmtpxu4si4ScneX7UxFdzAuOPqVZUC3b-1a5S28iA2gdbgnf06Od019IitCjezAeSmOXtcMC0-QV0GdnoJfTg8Q8_VpWMMahNeoLUJWm1pkIR3PfE5MRk-1xXzn8uAqRuJOiPN-wxp1OhUodNn1faOPv3yfKrCCH1/s716/C%20Taylor%20Stephens.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="716" data-original-width="444" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FNYz2S8jx9hkd8xUF0lBnX1B7DSEmtpxu4si4ScneX7UxFdzAuOPqVZUC3b-1a5S28iA2gdbgnf06Od019IitCjezAeSmOXtcMC0-QV0GdnoJfTg8Q8_VpWMMahNeoLUJWm1pkIR3PfE5MRk-1xXzn8uAqRuJOiPN-wxp1OhUodNn1faOPv3yfKrCCH1/w248-h400/C%20Taylor%20Stephens.png" width="248" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">C. Taylor Stephens' book of poems<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">This particular story was told to
Stephens by a pilot whose job it was to meet ships and guide them into port. In
this tale he guides the sloop <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sally</i>
from St Ives to Hayle, approximately five miles up the coast.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Robert Hunt often altered stories
‘from the vernacular – in which they were for the most part related – into
modern language’, but says of this one, ‘I prefer giving this story in the
words in which it was communicated. For its singular character, it is a ghost
story well worth preserving.’ </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Here it is, in what is (mostly) the pilot's own words.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvA5S8ND2i7Z3r8_b_QWKdBxUgAWyKLjpG97lIUlxAg3z-LiLYuk1dnNljIlUVnwuD5iLeiicwGqCJfdDLf0nGBILTgGRRLI4aMG8COZK9AJKojY05ElA641JVc2bglW2A8nxePmuPu3O0onaVQHYYMY-to7TRq-M_rIJIV05c9f91idqYoKxZP8PnYqt/s488/i001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="125" data-original-width="488" height="82" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvA5S8ND2i7Z3r8_b_QWKdBxUgAWyKLjpG97lIUlxAg3z-LiLYuk1dnNljIlUVnwuD5iLeiicwGqCJfdDLf0nGBILTgGRRLI4aMG8COZK9AJKojY05ElA641JVc2bglW2A8nxePmuPu3O0onaVQHYYMY-to7TRq-M_rIJIV05c9f91idqYoKxZP8PnYqt/s320/i001.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /><o:p><br /></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Just seventeen years since*, I
went down on the wharf from my house one night [between] about twelve and one
in the morning, to see whether there was any ‘hobble,’* and found a sloop, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sally</i> of St Ives (the Sally was wrecked
at St Ives one Saturday afternoon in the spring of 1862) in the bay, bound for
Hayle. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">When I got by the White Hart
public-house, I saw a man leaning against a post on the wharf – I spoke to him,
wished him good morning, and asked him what o’ clock it was, but to no purpose.
I was not to be easily frightened, for I didn’t believe in ghosts, and finding
I got no answer to my repeated inquiries, I approached close to him and said,
‘Thee’rt a queer sort of fellow, not to speak; I’d speak to the devil, if he were
to speak to me. Who art a at all? thee’st needn’t think to frighten me: that
thee wasn’t do, if thou wert twice so ugly; who art a at all?’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">He turned his great ugly face
on me, glared abroad his great eyes, opened his mouth, and it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i> a mouth sure ’nuff. Then I saw
pieces of sea-weed and bits of sticks in his whiskers; the flesh of his face and
hands were parboiled, just like a woman’s hands after a good day’s washing.
Well, I did not like his looks a bit, and sheered off; but he followed close by
my side, and I could hear the water squashing in his shoes every step he took.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Well, I stopped a bit, and
thought I would be civil to him, and spoke to him again, but no answer. I then
thought I would go to seek for another of our crew, and knock him up to get the
vessel, and had got about fifty or sixty yards, when I turned to see if he was
following me, but saw him where I left him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Fearing he would come after
me, I ran for my life the few steps that I had to go. But when I got to the
door, to my horror there stood the man in the door, grinning horribly. I shook
like an aspen leaf; my hat lifted from my head; the sweat boiled out of me.
What to do I didn’t know, and in the house there was such a row, as if
everybody was breaking up everything. After a bit I went in, for the door was
on the latch [ie: not locked] – and called the captain of the boat, and got
light, but everything was all right, not had he heard any noise. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">We went out aboard of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sally</i> and I put her into Hayle but I
felt ill enough to be in bed. I left the vessel to come home as soon as I
could, but it took me four hours to walk two miles, and I had to lie down in
the road, and was taken home to St Ives in a cart; as far as the Terrace* from
there I was carried home by my brothers and put to bed. Three days afterwards
all my hair fell out as if I had had my head shaved. The roots, and about half
an inch from the roots, being quite white. I was ill six months, and doctor’s
bill was £4, 17s. 6d. for attendance and medicine. So you see I have reason to
believe in the existence of spirits as well as Mr Wesley* had. My hair grew
again, and twelve months after I had as good a head of dark-brown hair as ever.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><u><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Notes:<o:p></o:p></span></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">* ‘Just seventeen years
since’:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stephens, to whom it was told,
died in 1865, so the events of the story must have occurred by 1848 or earlier.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">* ‘hobble’ – dialect
word a Cornish glossary says is </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘</span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">the share each person received when the vessel was brought in - or perhaps when the catch was sold.</span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> The sense here seems to be ‘a share of any work to do’? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 343.1pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">* ‘The
Terrace’ is a street in St Ives with views over the bay. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">* The preacher John Wesley believed
in the existence of ghosts and other spirits.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTwyJeJBrcBEEBGfT6ytJSMazhLhdlQgArZU6zK2oGernO3be0gv6rr3IQtm8rpWhOQTIuDE-fjZRUcq0qHGBuLNybY-pRqLoJkWZrRZp4Lyctddb60G1eIZXbsiI537G7W9UJpolf3RKtxQsVrDJsuKTrZpHPSNUBXlgqs03SJKdaxJujCWBGOSmeywN/s200/heaser%20footer4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="115" data-original-width="200" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTwyJeJBrcBEEBGfT6ytJSMazhLhdlQgArZU6zK2oGernO3be0gv6rr3IQtm8rpWhOQTIuDE-fjZRUcq0qHGBuLNybY-pRqLoJkWZrRZp4Lyctddb60G1eIZXbsiI537G7W9UJpolf3RKtxQsVrDJsuKTrZpHPSNUBXlgqs03SJKdaxJujCWBGOSmeywN/s1600/heaser%20footer4.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-29520530885588793962023-07-18T04:29:00.004-07:002023-07-18T04:29:44.158-07:00Jorinda and Joringel: Owls and Flowers<p> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXnCnC2XbFZ9hti9JY1EfhJRhIzhm0ZGkhLTfW-J7-HJuPFN15NkY9MLR0SvaYz22ICp_z8dly-4NMKLhBRXdp51WXCh8WZ3Gwii9MV3mWZb1xwZOIpN0UlMGT0foKDOetQrtV4AQBRLiuF2PEA1RdGDizpx3ODcQlYGnvxgcfVhaP7C8pggtc__Fu0fuw/s793/Jorinda%20and%20Joringel%20or%20Hansel_and_Grethal-Rackham-043.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="793" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXnCnC2XbFZ9hti9JY1EfhJRhIzhm0ZGkhLTfW-J7-HJuPFN15NkY9MLR0SvaYz22ICp_z8dly-4NMKLhBRXdp51WXCh8WZ3Gwii9MV3mWZb1xwZOIpN0UlMGT0foKDOetQrtV4AQBRLiuF2PEA1RdGDizpx3ODcQlYGnvxgcfVhaP7C8pggtc__Fu0fuw/w640-h484/Jorinda%20and%20Joringel%20or%20Hansel_and_Grethal-Rackham-043.jpg" width="640" /></a></b></p><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">There’s a story in <i>The</i> <i>Mabinogion</i>
about a girl who is changed into an owl. The magicians Gwydion and Math ap
Mathonwy create her out of flowers for Lleu Llaw Gyffes whose mother has cursed
him never to have a human wife. They take ‘the flowers of the oak, and the
flowers of the broom, and the flowers of the meadowsweet, and from those they
conjured the fairest and most beautiful maiden that anyone had ever seen. And
they baptised her in the way that they did at that time, and named her
Blodeuedd.’<span> </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Deed done, curse
circumvented: Blodeuedd is presented to Lleu. Nobody has asked her what <i>she</i> wants, however, and one day when
Lleu is away she meets the handsome young man Gronw Pebr. The two fall in love and
plot to murder Lleu so that they can be together. At the moment of his death
however, Lleu is transformed into an eagle. Math restores him to his human
shape, and Gwydion pursues Blodeuedd and transforms her into an owl: </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">‘[Y]ou
will never dare show your face in daylight for fear of all the birds. And all
the birds will be hostile towards you. … You shall not lose your name, however,
but shall always be called Blodeuwedd.’ <i>Blodeuwedd
</i>is ‘owl’ in today’s language. And for that reason the birds hate the owl:
and the owl is still called <i>Blodeuwedd</i>.<a href="#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 115%;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Commenting on the tale,
Sioned Davies explains that the name ‘changes from Blodeuedd (‘flowers’) to Blodeuwedd
(‘flower-face’) to reflect the image of the bird.’<a href="#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 115%;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a>
The white face of the barn owl does in fact look like two huge white daisies crushed
together.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Blodeuedd is a girl
made from flowers and turned into an owl. In the Grimms’ fairy tale<i> Jorinda and Joringel</i><a href="#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 115%;">[3]</span></span></span></span></a>
a girl is turned into a bird by an owl-woman – and released by the touch of a
flower. Here’s what happens: In the middle of a dark forest an ancient castle is
inhabited by an old woman who turns into a cat or a night-owl by day, assuming
her own form only when evening comes. She lures wild birds and beasts to her,
and kills and eats them. Further: </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">If anyone came within one hundred paces of the
castle he was obliged to stand still and could not stir from the spot until she
bade him be free. But whenever an innocent maiden came within this circle, she
changed her into a bird and shut her up in a wickerwork cage, and carried the
cage into a room in the castle. She had about seven thousand cages of rare
birds in the castle.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">A betrothed
young couple, Jorinda and Joringel, walk into the forest in order to be alone
together. Though Joringel warns his sweetheart that they must take care not to stray
close to the castle, everything should be wonderful in this glowing sunset wood
– ‘<span>It was a beautiful evening. The sun
shone brightly between the trunks of the trees into the dark green of the
forest, and the turtledoves sang mournfully upon the beech trees.’ </span>But for
some reason the young lovers feel sorrowful – ‘as sad as though they were about
to die.’<span> </span>In this strange mood, <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">[T]hey looked around them,
and were quite at a loss, for they did not know which way they should go home.
The sun was still half above the mountain and half under.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Joringel
looked through the bushes, and saw the old walls of the castle close at hand. He
was horror-stricken and filled with deadly fear. Jorinda was singing:</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">“My
little bird with the necklace red</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br />
<span>Sings
sorrow, sorrow, sorrow.</span><br />
<span>He sings
that the little dove must soon be dead.</span><br />
<span>Sings
sorrow, sor– <span> </span>jug, jug, jug.”</span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">The sun has set, Jorinda has been changed into a nightingale, and ‘a screech
owl with glowing eyes flew three times round about her, and three times cried
‘to-whoo, to-whoo, to-whoo!’’ Unable to speak or move, Joringel sees the owl
fly into a thicket and emerge as a crooked old woman ‘with large red eyes’ who
catches the nightingale and takes it away.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Later that evening the
enchantress returns later and releases Joringel with the cryptic words, ‘Greet
you, Zachiel. If the moon shines on the cage, Zachiel, let him loose at once.’ (Zachiel
is probably the angel Zakiel mentioned along with Michael, Gabriel and other angels in
a spell for ‘binding the tongue’ in the Syriac <i>‘Book of Protection’</i>, a
compendium of charms and incantations dating in manuscript form from the early
1800s though probably much older.) The old woman refuses to release Jorinda and
tells Joringel he will never see his sweetheart again. Joringel goes sadly away,
but while working as a shepherd in a nearby village he dreams of a blood-red
flower containing a dew-drop as big as a pearl, with which he can open the
doors of the castle and the cage. After a nine-day search he finds the flower, returns
to the castle and sets Jorinda and all the other maidens free. <span> </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">The Grimm brothers took
this tale almost verbatim from the deeply Romantic semi-fictional autobiography
of Johann Heinrich Jung, <i>'The Life of
Heinrich Stilling',</i> published in 1777. <span> </span>Writing throughout in the third person, Jung
tells how one day, out in the forest gathering firewood, the eleven-year-old
Heinrich asks his Aunt Marie for a story. ‘“Tell me, aunt, once more,” said
Heinrich, “the tale of Joringel and Jorinde.”’ His aunt is happy to oblige and
when she has finished, Heinrich sits ‘as if petrified – his eyes fixed and his
mouth half-open. “Aunt!” said he, at length, “it is enough to make one afraid
in the night!” “Yes,” said she, “I do not tell these tales at night, otherwise
I should be afraid myself.”’<a href="#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 115%;">[4]</span></span></span></span></a><span> </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">It’s lovely to have
this account of the story actually being told, and to see its effect on child
and storyteller. It is placed in this context however, because of what happens
next. Having ventured deeper into the woods, Heinrich’s grandfather comes back
to tell how he saw a bright light between the trees, “just as when the sun
rises in the morning.” Led by the light, he has seen a vision of the brilliant
castles and gardens of heaven, and meets his daughter Dora, Heinrich’s dead mother,
who tells him he will soon join her in “our eternal habitation.” Thus, the dark
forest, failing sunset, ancient castle and evil enchantress of the fairy tale
are deliberately contrasted with the brilliant sunrise, shining castles and
angelic beings of heaven.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">This then is a literary
version of a traditional tale, and since the rest of the autobiography is full
of poetical and mystical references to doves, nightingales, morning and evening
sun, rings, dewdrops and death, I would guess that the moody music of the
opening few paragraphs – the sorrowful lovers, setting sun and mourning doves –
is Johann Heinrich Jung’s own. Does this make the story less authentic? I don’t
see it that way. Tellers of traditional tales have always enriched, altered and
embellished them as they see fit, and a story written down will always be
different from the same tale told aloud.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">What does the story
mean? Why are the lovers so sad? Is it because they know they’ll grow old and
die, because evening is here and the day nearly over, because their young love
may not last and the sun is already half beneath the mountain?<span> </span>Are they afraid of mortality, the grave – symbolised
by the grim stone walls of the castle whose shadow immobilises them, and the
old owl-woman whose voice is a lament? </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Or is the owl-woman
associated with Athena of classical mythology, goddess of wisdom, whose emblem
was the owl? Discussing the tale with me, the author Susan Price thought this
might be so, writing:</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">My
impression is a little different. For one, the old woman is associated with the
owl, which associates her with Athena. She's also a huntress, who seems to
prize and cage (or guard) unmarried girls, which associates her with Artemis.
Both these goddesses had their darker, Death sides.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span> </span>The youngsters are lost in a wood - <i>wode<a href="#_ftn5" name="_ftnref5" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 115%;">[5]</span></b></span></span></span></a></i>
within this wood. The forest has long been associated with the dangers and
traps of life, some of them sexual – but mostly, I think, to do with 'losing
one's way' or losing one's self. There's also a tradition of the girl about to
be married mourning her single life: her happy life at home with her parents.
She's about to launch into adult life, with all its responsibility and cares.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">The owl-woman snatches her away
from all this and fastens her securely in a cage – but doesn't otherwise
mistreat her. The old woman also frees the young man without harming him and
tells him that if he does the right thing, he can free the girl. <br />
I think the old woman is a kind of marriage counsellor!<a href="#_ftn6" name="_ftnref6" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 115%;">[6]</span></span></span></span></a></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">This is a thought-provoking comment and a good example of the ways in
which fairy tales can be differently interpreted.<span> </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Flowers and owls… owls and flowers… a blood-red flower with a
pearl-sized drop of dew at its heart</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">.<a href="#_ftn7" name="_ftnref7" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 115%;">[7]</span></span></span></span></a>
To modern eyes the sexual imagery is clear: betrothed young maidens cannot
remain maidens for ever. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">But what is the owl doing in this tale? What does
it symbolise? Wisdom, or death? The ‘wise owl’ entered northern European
folklore rather late, via classical education. To ordinary folk it was
primarily known as a bird of death. In <i>The
Mabinogion</i> the owl is a hated outcast, a bird of ill omen rather than of
wisdom, and this is supported by Chaucer’s ‘The oule ek, that of deth the bode
bringeth’ [‘the owl too, that brings tidings of death’], Shakespeare’s ‘Whilst
the scritch-owle, scritching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe, In
remembrance of a shrowd’, and Gilbert White’s ‘From this screaming probably
arose the common people’s imaginary species of screech-owl, which they
superstitiously think attends the windows of dying persons’. Even John Ruskin
felt uneasy about owls: ‘Whatever wise people may say of them, I at least have
found the owl’s cry always prophetic of mischief to me.’<a href="#_ftn8" name="_ftnref8" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 115%;">[8]</span></span></span></span></a>
Moreover, in a variant of the tale noted by the brothers Grimm, it is a crow
the old woman turns herself into – another bird associated with death.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">In Alan Garner’s 1967
novel <i>The Owl Service</i>, which is based
on the story of Blodeuedd, the destructive force of the ancient legend is
stored in a set of patterned dinner plates hidden in the attic of an old Welsh
house. The stylised pattern can be perceived two different ways, as owls or as
flowers, and the plates act as a kind of battery or repository of power, with
owls as the negative and flowers as the positive poles. In terms of Garner’s
book, this alternating current means not only that the emotional pattern of the
legend keeps repeating down the centuries, but that his teenage characters
switch between positive and negative constructions of the self. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">In <i>Jorinda and Joringel</i>, the constrictive power of age is represented
by an owl, the liberating power of youth by a flower. Years ago in my early
twenties I was walking through London with a friend. We were laughing and chattering,
and a middle-aged woman passing by leaned over and said to us in a low voice but
with extraordinary venom, ‘One day you’ll be like me.’ As a <i>memento mori</i> it was quite something and we
both shivered, but we agreed later that we never would be like her. We would
never, ever be that bitter. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">That brush with mortality has
stayed with me, however, and I have to recognise at least the existence of those
dark emotions – envy of youth, anger at old age, fear of death: ‘When [the old
woman] saw Joringel coming she was angry, very angry, and scolded, and spat
poison and gall at him, but she could not come within two paces of him.’ In the
end the old woman is powerless against the vigour and sexual potency of youth. Fairy
tales are emotional amplifiers. We look into them as if into old, dimly-silvered
mirrors, and see ourselves and the world around us oddly changed. Analysing a
fairy tale can be a deeply interesting intellectual exercise, but that is not
what the tale itself is for. It exists like music, to </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">work
directly on our feelings. <i>Jorinda and
Joringel</i> is short and there’s hardly any plot, but it is intense. It takes
the dark emotions and transmutes them, leaving us to remember the beauty of the
forest, the sadness of the lovers and the strange little song Jorinda sings. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Like age looking
wistfully back on a time of flowers. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">This
essay with many others is published in my book ‘Seven Miles of Steel Thistles: Reflections on Fairy
Tales’, available in print or as an e-book from Amazon. (<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Seven-Miles-Steel-Thistles-Reflections/dp/B09Q967FR5/ref=sr_1_1?crid=24ZWEBWJYRT1B&keywords=langrish+seven+miles+of+steel+thistles&qid=1689327323&s=books&sprefix=langrish+seven+miles+of+steel+thistles%2Cstripbooks%2C61&sr=1-1">Click this link</a>.) </span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Footnotes</span></u></p>
<div style="mso-element: footnote-list;">
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<div id="ftn1" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Blodeuwedd</i> does not appear to be a
word for ‘owl’ in modern Welsh, however.</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn2" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Mabinogion</i>, tr. Sioned Davies,
244</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn3" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[3]</span></span></span></span></a>
‘Jorinda and Joringel’, KHM 69, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Grimm’s
Fairy Tales</i></p>
</div>
<div id="ftn4" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn4;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[4]</span></span></span></span></a>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Autobiography of Heinrich Stilling</i>,
tr. S Jackson, 22</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn5" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref5" name="_ftn5" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn5;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[5]</span></span></span></span></a>
‘Wode within this wood’: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Midsummer
Night’s Dream</i>, Act 2 Sc 1. Wode: adj: ‘mad’, OE. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wōd</i></p>
</div>
<div id="ftn6" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref6" name="_ftn6" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn6;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[6]</span></span></span></span></a>
Susan Price, personal communication. </p>
</div>
<div id="ftn7" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref7" name="_ftn7" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn7;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[7]</span></span></span></span></a>
In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Autobiography of Heinrich Stilling
</i>the flower holds not a dew-drop but a real pearl. </p>
</div>
<div id="ftn8" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref8" name="_ftn8" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn8;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[8]</span></span></span></span></a>
Opie, Iona and Tatem, Moira, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Dictionary
of Superstitions</i>, 295</p>
</div>
</div>
<p> </p><p><u>Picture credit:</u> </p><p>'She turned herself into a cat or a screech-owl': Jorinda and Joringel, by Arthur Rackham/<br /></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-47888238390597731052023-07-13T04:08:00.001-07:002023-07-13T04:08:14.329-07:00The Unhappy Love Affair Of Giant Bolster <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9YoJ7hb2ybJVb51wsJsceFRqfcM7EqEhB77t7HsvjNZwAmdjE4mPzWl7lq6VUba18udTRf7zPVmyONUoaRHgvg0XNSGVLC_gPPnd4E5paZCMNb9hZEkJfTL_USafZntgdpua6yqWsMzemXZFLD5zKkfQ0RoQLRnXFq-P4nSNb0fAnHGYr6uHCZCrZsVI7/s4008/Giant%20Bolster.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4008" data-original-width="2682" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9YoJ7hb2ybJVb51wsJsceFRqfcM7EqEhB77t7HsvjNZwAmdjE4mPzWl7lq6VUba18udTRf7zPVmyONUoaRHgvg0XNSGVLC_gPPnd4E5paZCMNb9hZEkJfTL_USafZntgdpua6yqWsMzemXZFLD5zKkfQ0RoQLRnXFq-P4nSNb0fAnHGYr6uHCZCrZsVI7/w428-h640/Giant%20Bolster.JPG" width="428" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">This is a tale told in <a href="https://cornwallartists.org/cornwall-artists/robert-hunt">Robert Hunt</a>’s ‘<i>Popular Romances of the West of
England, or The Drolls, Superstitions and Traditions of Old Cornwall’</i>. First
published in 1865 it went into three editions and was illustrated by George
Cruikshank, of whom more below. The third edition begins with a selection of
tales about some of the many Cornish giants. This particular one was called Bolster.
Like most giants he was a disreputable character, but unlike most giants he
fell madly in love with the local St Agnes. He was in fact a sort of giant stalker,
but I’m not sure which of the pair I disapprove of most – him, or her.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaD4VomCi2O44BBoUXuDLqRti2AQ3R3B7DzbDjRaArDMnEigaOx9CbVZ_iCpSoeoiUoKnwbiSVGX-fVd8gsmCzR0GS-pywtqX2cAVGGl5mBRVRwGbv9f19J7jH8z_vIy5aIIrhRbY18NfrMYOpoGee1b_We7Op3n6dmwI-fLzrUH89BHG3r2yDRHNw2rlC/s529/i035.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="120" data-original-width="529" height="73" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaD4VomCi2O44BBoUXuDLqRti2AQ3R3B7DzbDjRaArDMnEigaOx9CbVZ_iCpSoeoiUoKnwbiSVGX-fVd8gsmCzR0GS-pywtqX2cAVGGl5mBRVRwGbv9f19J7jH8z_vIy5aIIrhRbY18NfrMYOpoGee1b_We7Op3n6dmwI-fLzrUH89BHG3r2yDRHNw2rlC/s320/i035.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Bolster must have been a giant
of enormous size, since it is stated that he could stand with one foot on St
Agnes’ Beacon and the other on Carn Brea; these hills being distant, as the
bird flies, six miles. In proof of this, there still exists in the valley
running upwards from Chapel Porth, a stone in which may be seen the impression
of the giant’s fingers. On one occasion, while enjoying his usual stride from
the Beacon to Carn Brea, Bolster felt thirsty and stooped to drink out of the
well at Chapel Porth, resting while he did so on the above-mentioned stone.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">We hear but little of the
wives of our giants, but Bolster had a wife, who was made to labour hard by her
tyrannical husband. On the top of St Agnes’ Beacon there yet exist the
evidences of the useless labours to which this unfortunate giantess was doomed,
in grouped masses of small stones gathered from an estate at the bottom of this
hill [which] whenever Bolster was angry with his wife, he compelled her to
[...] carry in her apron to the top... <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">Be this as it may, the giant
Bolster fell deeply in love with St Agnes, who is reputed to have been
singularly beautiful and a pattern of virtue. The giant allowed the lady no
repose. He followed her incessantly, proclaiming his love and filling the air
with the tempests of his sighs and groans. St Agnes lectured Bolster in vain on
the impropriety of his conduct, he being already a married man. This availed
not [and] the persecuted lady, finding there was no release for her while this
monster existed, resolved to be rid of him at any cost, and eventually
succeeded by the following stratagem.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">Agnes appeared at last to be
persuaded of the intensity of the giant’s love, but she told him she required
one small proof more. There exists at Chapel Porth a hole in the cliff at the
end of the valley. If Bolster would fill this hole with his blood, the lady
would no longer look coldly on him. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">The huge bestrider-of-hills thought
it was an easy thing which was asked of him: he could fill many such holes and
be none the weaker for loss of blood. Stretching his great arm across the hole,
he plunged a knife into a vein, and a torrent of gore rushed forth. Roaring and
seething, the blood fell to the bottom, and the giant expected to see the hole
filled in a matter of moments. Yet it required much more blood than Bolster had
supposed: still, in a short time it <i>must</i>
be filled, so he bled on. Hour after hour the blood flowed from the vein, and
the hole was not filled. Eventually the giant fainted from exhaustion. The
strength of life within his mighty frame enabled him to rally, but he had no
power to lift himself from the ground and was unable to staunch the wound he
had made. So it was, that after many throes, the giant Bolster died!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">In proposing this task, the
cunning saint was well aware that the hole opened at the bottom into the sea,
and as rapidly as the blood flowed into the hole it was washed away. Thus, the
lady got rid of her lover, Mrs Bolster was released, and the district freed
from its tyrant. The hole at Chapel Porth still retains the evidence of this
tradition, in the red stain which marks the track down which flowed the giant’s
blood. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiagMwgqMbyoM6H785QKWwX7A3e9dOb050Kt4oTYOkNq2MpAIidVCip0jPaNEUfoxLdPm2-VWGNDjI7-qaE22bQMwLFYClIQHsfe3MOuZjn6Cv4MTeOL3JPq1wfanORWSIkkSzGFfnW-P7_WU8h3qB02YKVidqgU2gHJ8cOx6EkZNovFtseKhiYXnjRS-CW/s534/i044.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="120" data-original-width="534" height="72" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiagMwgqMbyoM6H785QKWwX7A3e9dOb050Kt4oTYOkNq2MpAIidVCip0jPaNEUfoxLdPm2-VWGNDjI7-qaE22bQMwLFYClIQHsfe3MOuZjn6Cv4MTeOL3JPq1wfanORWSIkkSzGFfnW-P7_WU8h3qB02YKVidqgU2gHJ8cOx6EkZNovFtseKhiYXnjRS-CW/s320/i044.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">A footnote to this story takes
us to an amusing letter written by the artist George Cruikshank to the book’s
publisher Mr Hotten. Cross swords with an artist at your peril:</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> 263
Hampstead Rd, N.W., <i>April 18<sup>th</sup>,
1865<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">Dear Mr. Hotten, – I
have received your note, in which you express a doubt as to whether some
portion of the public will understand my representation of the giant “Bolster”.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> To all such persons, I would beg them to reflect, that if
a giant could stride six miles across a country, he must be twelve miles in
height, according to the proportions of the human figure. In order to get a
sight of the <i>head </i>of such a giant,
the spectator must be distant a mile or two from the figure. This would, by
adding half the <i>“stride”</i> and above
eleven miles perpendicular, place the spectator about fifteen miles distant
from the giant’s head, which head, in proportion to other parts of the body,
would be about three-quarters of a mile measuring from the chin to the crown of
the head. Now, let anyone calculate, according to the laws of perspective, what
size such a head would be at such a distance. To give a little insight into the
matter of perspective, let anyone imagine they are looking down a street,
fifteen miles long, of large houses, and then calculate what <i>size</i> the <i>last</i> house would be at the farther end of the street; and it must
therefore be recollected that every part of such a huge body must lessen in the
same way – body and limbs – smaller by degrees, if not beautifully less.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> I selected this subject from my friend Robert Hunt’s work
as one of the numerous proofs, which are shown in both the volumes, of the
horrible dark ignorance of the Early Ages – a large amount of which ignorance
and darkness, I am sorry to find, still remains. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> I hope that these few lines will explain satisfactorily
why Giant “Bolster” has been thus displayed by, – Yours truly, George
Cruikshank.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; line-height: 150%;">PS.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; line-height: 150%;"> – The
first time that I put a <i>very large</i>
figure in perspective was about forty years back, in illustrating that part of
“<i>Paradise Lost”</i> where Milton
describes Satan as<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> “Prone on the flood, extended long and large,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> Lay
floating many a rood.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">This I never published,
but possibly I may do so one of these days.</span><o:p style="font-size: 12pt;"></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuYMcavEWSN80gtVm-bBuUfABfey5s2VUxioWd_AnTPzTw-nQts6r4q_Ox2-b4G1W_xrce_OpzbsVqDdjh5OrByyekFMUlK36OxkJJ9TdKOcnMm4v3JUMA0Y4M1BBSJea6_JQx1jYagj_GS_lqJRQoQ0K1uV2SSk5xi-IpdgaEtjt5Uwxon5GSpp7g_AW/s140/header%20footer7.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="115" data-original-width="140" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuYMcavEWSN80gtVm-bBuUfABfey5s2VUxioWd_AnTPzTw-nQts6r4q_Ox2-b4G1W_xrce_OpzbsVqDdjh5OrByyekFMUlK36OxkJJ9TdKOcnMm4v3JUMA0Y4M1BBSJea6_JQx1jYagj_GS_lqJRQoQ0K1uV2SSk5xi-IpdgaEtjt5Uwxon5GSpp7g_AW/s1600/header%20footer7.jpg" width="140" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></p><p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-1752249774623652692023-06-22T08:33:00.002-07:002023-06-22T08:40:15.008-07:00Descriptive Formulae in Scottish and Irish Wonder Tales <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE6QNRJU6sInJvqYxL8UD7hjBEh9JkG2PkuzHQFGjTu6qPPS7n2jFObPAwwAtSpXtUuv8RrEr0L3YxFbIjWRFBCJGeII8f_AU5cnwx2jYVSjZKe29Abc7So_6EgR4l3C05QWCiTktRqZCAZtdBXyjS-f9az6r3PFnDaUaS_kcz-FFdBSNVXwTS1PoIeA/s1140/Riders%20of%20the%20Sidhe,%20John%20Duncan%201866-1945,%20Dundee%20Art%20Gallery.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="684" data-original-width="1140" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE6QNRJU6sInJvqYxL8UD7hjBEh9JkG2PkuzHQFGjTu6qPPS7n2jFObPAwwAtSpXtUuv8RrEr0L3YxFbIjWRFBCJGeII8f_AU5cnwx2jYVSjZKe29Abc7So_6EgR4l3C05QWCiTktRqZCAZtdBXyjS-f9az6r3PFnDaUaS_kcz-FFdBSNVXwTS1PoIeA/w640-h384/Riders%20of%20the%20Sidhe,%20John%20Duncan%201866-1945,%20Dundee%20Art%20Gallery.webp" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I've been reading a lot of Irish
and Scots fairy tales or wonder tales lately and have been struck, as often before, by the sheer beauty
of expression in many of them. I cannot read the original Gaelic of course, but various Victorian translators seem to have done a marvellous job of indicating the poetry. For example, here are
some extracts from ‘The Young King of Easaidh Ruadh’ in J.F. Campbell’s orally
collected<i> ‘Popular Tales of the West Highlands’</i>. It was narrated in Gaelic circa
1820 on Islay by ‘an old man of the name of Angus McQueen to James Wilson, a blind
fiddler on Islay' – who recited it to Hector MacLean, the schoolmaster on Islay, who wrote it down in Gaelic and sent it to Campbell in 1859. The tale tells how the young king decides to play
a game (gambling) against the local Gruagach (‘the hairy one’), the stake
being ‘the cropped rough-skinned maid that is behind the door’. He wins, and
marries the maid, the Gruagach’s own daughter who in fact is very beautiful.
Next day he visits the Gruagach again and his wife advises him to play for ‘the
dun shaggy filly with the stick saddle’. Again he wins, and the dun filly is his.
Of course the third time he plays, the Gruagach wins and sets out the penalty. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘The
stake of my play is,’ said he, ‘that I lay it as crosses and as spells on thee,
and as the defect of the year, that the cropped rough-skinned creature, more
uncouth and unworthy than thyself, should take thy head, and thy neck, and thy
life’s look off, if thou dost not get for me the Glaive of Light of the king of
the oak windows.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is unfortunate. His own
wife must kill him if he cannot bring back the Glaive (sword) of Light! No
wonder, then –<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The
king went home, heavily, poorly, gloomily. The young queen came meeting him and
she said, ‘Mohrooai! my pity! there is nothing with thee tonight.’ Her face and
her splendour gave some pleasure to the king when he looked on her brow, but
when he sat on a chair to draw her towards him, his heart was so heavy that the
chair broke under him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I love ‘heavily, poorly,
gloomily’ – and the chair breaking under him because of the heaviness of his
heart. Only in a fairy tale could you get away with that. But the queen tells
him to take heart. After all, he has ‘the best wife in Erin and the second-best
horse in Erin’ and if he follows her advice and the filly’s advice, all will
turn out well! <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">She set in order the dun shaggy filly, on which was the
stick saddle, and though he saw it as wood, it was full of sparklings of gold
and silver. He got on it; the queen kissed him and she wished him the victory
of the battlefields. ‘Take thou the advice of thine own she-comrade the filly,
and she will tell thee what thou shouldst do.’ He set out on his journey, and
it was not dreary to be on the dun steed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She would catch the swift March wind
that would be before her, and the swift March wind would not catch her. They
came at the mouth of dusk and lateness, to the court and castle of the king of
the oak windows. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘The mouth of dusk’... all
that last paragraph is pure poetry, yet made up of formulae that with
variations turn up again and again in these fairy tales. (You’ll find ‘the wind
of March’ in an Irish tale, below.) These repeated formulae or set pieces are an
important part of oral storytelling, going back at least as far as Homer. ‘Dawn
with her rosy fingers’, ‘thoughtful Telemachos’, ‘gray-eyed Athena’ – as
Richmond Lattimore comments in the introduction to his verse translation of the
Odyssey: <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">In
both epics, women are deep-girdled, iron is gray, ships are hollow, words are
winged and go through the barrier of the teeth, the sea is wine-coloured, barren
and salt, bronze is sharp and pitiless. [...] The poet repeats brief formulae
and even sizeable sequences. Adaptation may be necessary. Amphimonos goes down,
Odyssey xxii: ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">He fell, thunderously, and
took the earth full on his forehead</i>.’ We cannot quite have the standard
Iliad line: ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">He fell, thunderously, and
his armour clattered upon him’</i>: Amphimonos has no armour. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Memorable for their cadences
and evocative power, such ready-made phrases take the strain of description, painting
familiar but vivid pictures for those listening. (And to to return for a moment to ‘The Young King
of Easaidh Ruadh’: the swift filly tells the young king how to steal the sword
of light. She helps him escape and advises him how to slash off the head of
the king of the oak windows – catching the head neatly in her mouth as they
gallop side by side. On the young king’s return his wife tells him that since the
king of the oak windows was the Gruagach’s brother, he had better kill him too,
or be killed himself. This he successfully does, but that’s not the end of the
story; next thing his wife is stolen by a giant and the king sets out to find
her with the help of ‘the slim dog of the greenwood’...)<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In another very long tale, ‘The Battle of the Birds’,
told by ‘John Mackenzie, fisherman, near Inverarie’ the king’s son of
Tethertown arrives late to view the annual battle of the birds. The raven has
won, but is being attacked by a snake which the king’s son swiftly dispatches
with a blow of his sword. To reward him, the raven takes him up on his back and
flies ‘over seven Bens and seven Glens and seven Mountain Moors’ to the house
of the raven’s sister where he receives ‘meat of each meat, drink of each
drink, warm water to his feet and a soft bed for his limbs’. A similar journey
is repeated on the next day; on the third, the king’s son is given the gift of
a bundle to carry to the place he would wish to dwell. (Inside the bundle is a
castle: much more follows.) However, the ‘seven bens and seven glens and seven
mountain moors’ over which the raven flies is a stock phrase echoed by the
Irish tale ‘The King Who Had Twelve Sons’ (in ‘<i>West Irish Folk-Tales and Romances’</i>
collected and translated by William Larminie, 1893). In this tale a boy rides a
pony over ‘seven miles on hill on fire and seven miles of steel thistles and
seven miles of sea’, while a shorter variant of those steel thistles appears in
‘The Wal at the Warld’s End’, a story from Fife printed in Robert Chambers’
<i>‘Popular Rhymes of Scotland’</i>. A lassie’s stepmother sends her to fill a bottle
of water from the well at the world’s end: she gets there on the back of a pony
who gallops over a ‘muir of hecklepins’ – that is, a moor of sharp steel
pins of the type used for combing flax or wool. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another <i>‘West Irish Folk-Tale’</i> is ‘The Story
of Bioultach’, narrated to Larminie in the 1880s by Terence Davies of Renvyle,
Co. Galway. It contains what Larminie terms ‘a sea run’: the description of a
voyage. Bioultach (the name means Yellow-Hair) is searching for his lost
brother Maunus. After slaying a giant who has spirited away the three suitors of
a king’s daughter </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">– Maunus</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> being the last </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">–</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> Bioultach sets out for the mysterious
‘bake-house in the east’ where Maunus is imprisoned. Since Bioultach has saved
the king’s daughter, the king fits him out with a ship and two champions, and
eight hundred men.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">When
Bioultach went on board the ship they raised their great sails, speckled,
spotted, red-white, to the top of the mast, and he left not a rope unsevered,
nor a helm without [<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">here, Larminie says,
‘there were several words in the Gaelic I am unable to translate’</i>] in the
place where there were seals, whales, creeping things, little beasts of the sea
with red mouth, rising on the sole and palm of the oar, making fairy music and
melody for themselves, till the sea arose in strong waves, hushed with wondrous
voices, with greatness and beauty was the ship sailing, till to haven she came
and harbour on the coast of the Land of Brightness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Similarly worded ‘sea-runs’
occur in other tales from the same collection. In ‘King Mananaun’, narrated by
Patrick McGrale of Achill Island, a king’s daughter called Pampogue is fought
over by two princes, Londu and Kaytuch. The one she loves, Kaytuch, is killed
by Londu, but she refuses to marry the victorious prince. Instead she takes
Kaytuch and ‘put him in a box, and the herbs of the hill about him’, and – <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">She
went then and fitted out a ship great and gallant, till she raised the great
sails, speckled, spotted, as long, as high as the top of the mast; and she left
not a rope without breaking, an oar without tearing, with the crawling,
creeping creatures, the little beasts, the great beasts of the deep sea coming
up on the handle and blade of the oar, till she let two-thirds (of the sail)
go, and one third held in, till the eels were whistling, the froth down and the
sand above; till she overtook the red wind of March that was before her, and
the red wind of March that was after did not overtake her; and she was sailing
nine months before she came to land. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">As she approached this island
she witnesses two men carrying a dead man: he is alive in the morning but dead
again by evening, ‘and so it was like that for three days’. Then one of the men
rows out in a currach to ask rudely if she wants a husband. (‘She told him to
be off, or she would sink him’.) The second approaches in the same rude manner,
but the third is courteous and explains that they are three sons of a king,
‘and when he died there came Fawgawns and Blue-men on us,’ so they are now
stranded on this island and their enemies attack them each day and kill one of
them, whom they then bring back to life with ‘healing water’. Pampogue replies,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘With me is a champion, the best that ever struck blow with
sword; and I promise you his help for a day if you bring him to life.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The man
went in and brought the healing water and rubbed the wound; and Kaytuch arose
alive again; and he rubbed his eyes with his hands and said, ‘Great was the
sleep that was on me’; and she laughed and told him everything from the time
the young king cut his head off. ‘I took you on board ship, and we were sailing
for nine months before we came here; and I promised your help for a day to this
man if he would bring you to life; but you will not go far for a month until
you grow strong.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So he and
she spent the night together – a third in talking, a third in storytelling, and
a third in soft rest and deep slumber, till the whiteness of the day came upon
the morrow.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘Till the whiteness of
the day came upon the morrow.’ And I love the matter-of-fact way Kaytuch comes
back to life as after a long sleep, and Pampogue’s laugh as she welcomes him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The third of the stories is ‘The Champion of the Red
Belt’, told by Patrick Minahan of Malinmore, Glencolumkille, Co. Donegal; it is
the tale of two young children who are put out to the sea in a barrel, along
with two swords. One boy wears a black belt, the other a red belt; they are
washed up on the shores of Greece and adopted by the king, who assumes
(correctly) they are of royal blood. The boys believe they are the sons of this
king but, eventually learning that they are not, they set out to discover their
true parentage. Promising to come back and marry the girl he has supposed to be
his sister, the Champion of the Red Belt and his brother come to the shores of
the sea.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;">He threw his hat out. He made a ship of the hat, a mast of
his stick, a flag of his shirt. He hoisted the sails speckled, spotted, to the
top of the straight mast. He turned the prow to sea, the stern to shore, and he
left not a rope without breaking, nor a cable without rending, till he was
listening to the blowing of the seals and the roaring of the great beasts, to
the screams of the seagulls; till the little red-mouthed fishes were rising on
the sole and palm of the oars; till they steered the vessel in under court and
castle of the King of the Underwaveland.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘Not a rope without
breaking, nor a cable without rending’: all three of these ‘sea-run’ passages
employ a language of extravagant violence and damage to convey the topsy-turvy urgency
of these journeys – ‘the froth down and the sand above’, and all three
celebrate the diversity and plenty of the sea, filled with the life and
activities of seals, whales, gulls, ‘great beasts’, and the little
‘red-mouthed’ fishes that rise and jump among the oar-strokes. Although these ships
are supposedly large, even magical ones, with tall sails and masts, it is a
fisherman’s currach close to the surface of the sea that is really being evoked
each time, and the fisherman’s everyday familiarity with the sea’s creatures...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">‘The sole and palm of the oars’. </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; text-indent: 36pt;">What better phrase could there be for the way the oar-blades dip and twist as
you row?</span></span></p><br /><p></p><div><u>Picture credit: </u></div><div><br /></div><div>Riders of the Sidhe - by John Duncan, 1866 - 1945</div>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-3747836597605791442023-06-14T06:27:00.000-07:002023-06-14T06:27:00.540-07:00A Folktale from Formosa<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNdd1Xo11fOXq5BYBqYoxBQyf52C-x-0Rh_RuBHiXSndl2Db0qAAs6cCRDfHgtVuTdnvDstXu0nUA-_INQOkGjtmNg9DANXkSyIMu_wemnRc284eJRB4q4lnrasLZ1tZxIIgp9UsqiD3vNriLsZFp7ODEtw5oAuqr_wgqY6cxrpC_FTPFSSc0hzqYdw/s896/Goblins%20by%20Brian%20Froud.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="504" data-original-width="896" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNdd1Xo11fOXq5BYBqYoxBQyf52C-x-0Rh_RuBHiXSndl2Db0qAAs6cCRDfHgtVuTdnvDstXu0nUA-_INQOkGjtmNg9DANXkSyIMu_wemnRc284eJRB4q4lnrasLZ1tZxIIgp9UsqiD3vNriLsZFp7ODEtw5oAuqr_wgqY6cxrpC_FTPFSSc0hzqYdw/w640-h360/Goblins%20by%20Brian%20Froud.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;">A story from Formosa (now Taiwan) recorded in the Folk Lore Journal 1887 (Vol 5 p 139) tells how
seven brothers, banished from their home, encountered some unsettling ‘little
people’ on their journey through the forest. </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The exiles went forth
into the depth of the forest, and in their wanderings after a new land they
crossed a small clearing, in which a little girl, about a span* in height, was
seated peeling [sweet] potatoes. ‘Little sister,’ they queried, ‘how come you here?
where is your home?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘I am not of homes
nor parents,’ she replied. Her surprised questioners then asked if she could
direct them to a pathway;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>she answered
after the following enigmatic manner: ‘If you find your swords girded on the
right you are the proper road; if you find them on the left you are going
astray.’ <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The puzzled brothers shook their heads and again entered
the thick forest. After them came the voice of the little girl singing,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘You think that I am fatherless, motherless, small,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Devoid of that wisdom which parents install;<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yet was I when fathers and mothers were not,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And will be when mankind itself is forgot.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">They
had not gone far when they saw a little man cutting canes, and farther on to
the right a curious-looking house, in front of which sat two diminutive women
combing their hair. Things looked so queer that the travellers hesitated about
approaching nearer, but eager to find a way out of the forest they determined
in their extremity to question the strange people. The two women, when
interrogated, turned sharply round, showing eyes of a flashing red; then
looking upward, their eyes became dull and white, and they immediately ran into
the house, the doors and windows of which at once vanished, the whole taking on
the form and appearance of a large, isolated boulder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">* ‘span’: the distance
between the thumb and little finger of a outspread hand.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>Picture credit:</u></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">'Goblins' by Brian Froud: <a href="https://www.ferniebrae.com/brian-froud">https://www.ferniebrae.com/brian-froud</a></span></span></p><p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-65050581174473841642023-06-06T02:53:00.002-07:002023-06-07T01:01:40.657-07:00The Woman Warrior Who Taught Cuchulain <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSB7TCL1EXvE8aBfkWpHXJkN_CEGzjzDbxgU4tUAuB6eHzLJqxrMmFRdHe5yL1naWa1FZXAqioxzOBL4yKJhdLQt-7ifmHPkAhADu8DeXvUsOfzCMoiAX4-2CftfjXVOzWvANAr5ebs72kW7i8qbRBn14jwboma4j6cnacO78EmaIjQH3JxZMTv8na3w/s2800/Black_Cuillin_Mountains_Panorama_from_Blaven.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="723" data-original-width="2800" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSB7TCL1EXvE8aBfkWpHXJkN_CEGzjzDbxgU4tUAuB6eHzLJqxrMmFRdHe5yL1naWa1FZXAqioxzOBL4yKJhdLQt-7ifmHPkAhADu8DeXvUsOfzCMoiAX4-2CftfjXVOzWvANAr5ebs72kW7i8qbRBn14jwboma4j6cnacO78EmaIjQH3JxZMTv8na3w/w640-h166/Black_Cuillin_Mountains_Panorama_from_Blaven.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">Folklore tells that the
mountain ranges of Skye named the Red and Black Cuillins were named
after the Irish hero Cuchulain, who came there to learn battle skills from the
woman warrior Scáthach, pronounced Ska’hach, with ‘ch’ as in ‘loch’. According
to James MacKillop’s <i>Dictionary of Celtic
Mythology</i> the name means ‘shadow, shade’ (or possibly ‘shelter, protection’:
but as her daughter Uathach’s name means ‘spectre’, I tend towards ‘shadow’.)
The story is told in the <i>Tochmarc Emire</i>
(‘The Wooing of Emer’), and the island of Skye was said to have been named
after her, or after her fortress Dún Scáthaige or Scáith.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Here
are two folktales from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Skye: The Island
and its Legends</i> by Otta F Swire (OUP 1952). A native of Skye, she wrote
that these were ‘some of the old Skye stories which I heard from my mother and
many of which she, in turn, heard from a great-aunt who was born over 150 years
ago, on 18 April 1799...’ The first tale tells how the Cuillins or ‘Cuchullins’
were formed, while the second is a gently humorous version of the meeting
between Scáthach – written ‘Skiach’ to approximate the pronunciation – and
Cuchulain. At the end, Swire misnames Cuchulain’s terrible spear, the Gae Bolg,
by calling it ‘the Fir Bolg’: the Fir Bolg however are the mythical invaders of
Ireland who came before the Tuatha De Danaan. I have corrected the mistake.</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lRerZ-5B5lzbjYywH2yfWnTkVhtW7f4qclMQ_9Fxe9Ex4BSUnkogjG2CgWLMNa8M5uoWA4KphrJtiXwFAAhgRO3v9y7mL8LCKQQj_u13kGDoH7YvqXuEAi4mZZcB1Qqd-rMzdlcCJhNW8D9NnEwB3cIo-o4bWmgbQp2_K7fZlLZhrmfYoQkcm16zEA/s500/Page%20header%204.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="140" data-original-width="500" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lRerZ-5B5lzbjYywH2yfWnTkVhtW7f4qclMQ_9Fxe9Ex4BSUnkogjG2CgWLMNa8M5uoWA4KphrJtiXwFAAhgRO3v9y7mL8LCKQQj_u13kGDoH7YvqXuEAi4mZZcB1Qqd-rMzdlcCJhNW8D9NnEwB3cIo-o4bWmgbQp2_K7fZlLZhrmfYoQkcm16zEA/s320/Page%20header%204.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: large;">When all the world was
new, there was a great heather-clad plain between Loch Bracadale on the west,
and the Red Hills on the east. It was a dark and lonely place, and the
Cailleach Bheur (a personification of Winter in Scottish Gaelic) whose home was
on Ben Wyvis, often lived there when she came west to boil up her linen in her
washing pot, dangerous Corryvreckan. She was a very powerful and fearsome
person who had made Scotland by dropping into the sea a creel of peat and rock
which she had brought with her from the north. When her clothes had boiled
well, she would spread them to bleach on Storr, and while she was in Skye no
good weather was to be got at all. Now Spring hated her because she held the
maiden he loved prisoner (until the girl could wash a brown fleece white) and
he fought with her, but she was strong, stronger than anyone else within the
four brown boundaries of the earth, and he could do nothing. He appealed to the
Sun to help him, and the Sun flung his spear at Cailleach Bheur as she walked
on the moor: it was fiery and hot it scorched the very earth, and where it
struck, a blister, six miles long and six miles wide, grew and grew until it
burst and flung forth the Cuchullins as a glowing, molten mass. For many, many
months they glowed and smoked, and the Cailleach Bheur fled away and hid
beneath the roots of a holly and dared not return. Even now, her snow is
useless against the fire hills.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">*<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">For a long time no
living thing inhabited the Cuchullins, and then came Skiach – goddess or mortal
no one knows which, but undoubtedly a great warrior. She started a school for
heroes in the mountains, to teach them the art of war. Some say she took her name
from a Gaelic name for Skye, others that Skye took its name from her. However
that may be, the fame of her name and of her school spread abroad and reached
the ears of Cuchullin, the Hero of Ulster, whose friends acclaimed him the
greatest warrior in the world. Undefeated he, single handed, had held up an
army; so great was his battle-fury that after a fight three large baths of
ice-cold water were always prepared for him: when he jumped into the first it
went off in steam; when he jumped into the second it boiled over, when he
jumped into the third it became a pleasantly hot bath. On hearing that in Skye
there lived a woman, unconquered in battle, who offered to teach the heroes of
the world how to fight, Cuchullin took two strides from the northern tip of
Ireland and landed on Talisker Head; a third stride brought him to Skiach’s
school in the hills. Here he had expected to be received with awe and honour,
and was much peeved to find himself treated as only a ‘new boy’, and being
firmly snubbed all round as a boastful new boy at that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He challenged all the other students to single combat and
defeated them. At this Skiach deigned to take notice and gave him permission to
fight with her daughter... So Cuchullin and Skiach’s daughter fought ‘for a day
and a night and another day’ and then, at last, he vanquished her. Great was
the wrath of Skiach. She for the first time descended from the high tops to
fight. She and Cuchullin fought. They fought for a day and a night and another
day, they fought on the mountains and on the moors and in the sea, but neither
could come by any advantage. Then Skiach bade all the princes and heroes watch,
for never again would they see such a fight. And they fought for a day and a
night and another day, but neither gained any advantage.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then Skiach’s daughter was troubled and sent some of her
maidens to bring her deer’s milk, and she made a cheese from it such as her
mother loved, and bade them come and eat. But they would not. So she sent
heroes to bring her a deer and she roasted it and called to them to come and
eat, and it smelt <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">very</i> good, but they
would not. The she sent the heroes once again to gather her ‘wise’ hazel nuts
from the trees which grow in the little burns on the side of Broc-Bheinn, and
she roasted another deer and stuffed it with roasted hazel nuts and bade them
come and eat. And Skiach thought, ‘The hazels of knowledge will teach me how to
overcome Cuchullin.’ And Cuchullin thought, ‘The hazels of knowledge will teach
me how to overcome Skiach.’ So they both came and sat down and ate. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When they tasted the wise hazels they knew that neither
could ever overcome the other, so they made peace together and swore that if
either called for aid the other would come, ‘though the sky fall and crush us.’
And Cuchullin returned to Ireland, but not, some say, before Skiach had given
him the Gáe Bolg.</span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwEFDmmOlC273ctxLTlxec8yaP7keuwKG02PAFBq_NXeV52V7W8Fm9hUFVwvGo-qxYGtPBFpRltMes9o55hjz1Au4x4oeOzLQVjqC5uNku_oj6hvLx8dkypwlL9k9sQa7GccJLTgJb43RAOaGV3JjQBBccKqeH0GRH5YmTfgn_zpWlzLcAxG1Rfj0s-Q/s200/heaser%20footer4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="115" data-original-width="200" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwEFDmmOlC273ctxLTlxec8yaP7keuwKG02PAFBq_NXeV52V7W8Fm9hUFVwvGo-qxYGtPBFpRltMes9o55hjz1Au4x4oeOzLQVjqC5uNku_oj6hvLx8dkypwlL9k9sQa7GccJLTgJb43RAOaGV3JjQBBccKqeH0GRH5YmTfgn_zpWlzLcAxG1Rfj0s-Q/s1600/heaser%20footer4.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;"><u>Notes: </u><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">This version of the
story is considerably less violent and a lot less sexy than those found in the <i>Tochmarc Emire,</i> as you can find out for
yourself <a href="https://sejh.pagesperso-orange.fr/keltia/version-en/cu-training.html"><b>here</b></a>. James MacKillop’s <i>Dictionary
of Celtic Mythology</i> describes the Gáe Bolg as the ‘Terrible weapon of the
Ulster Cycle, which entered the victim at one point but made thirty wounds
within. Deeply notched and characterized by lightning speed, Gáe Bolg was made
from the bones of a sea-monster killed in a duel with another monster of
greater size. Although usuallu the possession of Cuchulain, received from his
female tutor Scáthach, Gáe Bolg also appears in the hands of other heroes. How
it was used is still a matter of conjecture. When Cuchulain uses it to kill
Ferdiad, he casts it ‘from the fork of his foot’, ie: between his toes.’ </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><u>Picture credits:</u></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: medium; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #274e13;">The Black Cuillins, looking from Blaven to the west, Skye - by</span><span style="color: #274e13;"> Nick Bramhall</span></span><span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: #f8f9fa; color: #202122; font-size: 13.3px;"> </span><a class="external free" href="https://www.flickr.com/people/black_friction/" rel="nofollow" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-color: #f8f9fa; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: right center; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: 0.857em; background: url("/w/skins/Vector/resources/common/images/link-external-small-ltr-progressive.svg?30a3a") right center / 0.857em no-repeat rgb(248, 249, 250); color: #bb6633; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13.3px; outline-color: rgb(51, 102, 204); overflow-wrap: break-word; padding-right: 1em; word-break: break-all;">https://www.flickr.com/people/black_friction/</a></p><p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-53365899166208666102023-05-23T07:12:00.003-07:002023-05-23T09:19:33.348-07:00Children's Rhymes <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVG6Ah9jHarWlOknfOqkzi9mPilkslYm0LTM6YbKcRwhqlPCkk-U_e3TkAhAYhZIiVXm0cATeRIoJmnvDChO5ZLb9rtjujEC0o3mdymhvlS-xTqmjSsxYCE9f3vsg2ZUhUqEOB6Dz4i6480fl8msc2qhGXogd9hGqAZmvMsi6Ag2wQnSWlbznP7PdMA/s640/Children%20skipping.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="456" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVG6Ah9jHarWlOknfOqkzi9mPilkslYm0LTM6YbKcRwhqlPCkk-U_e3TkAhAYhZIiVXm0cATeRIoJmnvDChO5ZLb9rtjujEC0o3mdymhvlS-xTqmjSsxYCE9f3vsg2ZUhUqEOB6Dz4i6480fl8msc2qhGXogd9hGqAZmvMsi6Ag2wQnSWlbznP7PdMA/w456-h640/Children%20skipping.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="background-color: white;">Some
time ago I was sitting in a pub garden watching a little boy of about three
trying to play Aunt Sally - a game rather like skittles which is popular in our
bit of Oxfordshire. He was having difficulty, but eventually succeeded in
hurling the heavy wooden baton (which is used instead of a ball) down the alley
at the Sally, which is a single white skittle, and knocked her down. In great
delight he went running back to his family chanting, ‘Easy peazy lemon squeezy,
easy peazy lemon squeezy!’ </span><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="background-color: white;">I
was smiling and thinking to myself how much young children love rhyme and
rhythm and word-play. Many of them, in junior school, are natural poets; you’d
think it would be dead easy to make readers out of them. What happens to the
simple joys of having fun with words?</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="background: white;">Here’s a skipping or clapping rhyme my children
used to chant at school. I'll show the stresses in the first few lines, but it
would be a bit much to do the whole thing. Come down heavily on the italicized
words and you'll get it:<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">My</span></i><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;"> mother, <i>your </i>mother,<i> lives</i> across
the <i>street</i>.</span><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><br />
<i><span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Eight</span></i><span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">een, <i>nine</i>teen, <i>Mul</i>berry <i>Street</i> –</span><br />
<i><span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Ev</span></i><span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">ery <i>night</i> they <i>have</i> a <i>fight </i>and <i>this</i> is <i>what </i>it <i>soun</i>ded <i>like</i>:</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Girls are sexy, made
out of Pepsi</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Boys are rotten, made
out of cotton</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Girls go to college to
get more knowledge</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Boys go to Jupiter to
get more stupider</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Criss, cross, apple
sauce,</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">WE HATE BOYS!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Chanted
rapidly aloud, you can feel how infectious it is. Another one, also a clapping
game, runs:<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;">I went to the Chinese
chip-shop</span><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">To buy a loaf of
bread, bread, bread,</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">They wrapped it up in
a five pound note</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">And this is what they
said, said, said:</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">My… name… is…</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Elvis Presley</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Girls are sexy</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Sitting on the back
seat</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Drinking Pepsi</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Had a baby</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Named it Daisy</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Had a twin</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Put it in the bin</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Wrapped it in -</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Do me a favour and –</span><br />
<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">PUSH OFF!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
suppose every junior school in the country is home to a similar rhyme: chanted
rapidly and punctuated with a flying, staccato pattern of handclaps, it’s
extremely satisfying. I've heard teachers in schools get children to clap out
the rhythms of poems 'so that they can hear it' , but never anything as
complicated as these handclapping games children make up for themselves. No
adults are involved. What unsung, anonymous geniuses between 8 and 12 invented
these rhymes and sent them spinning around the world? Nobody analyses them, construes
them, sets them as text, or makes children learn them. Some of them go back
centuries, constantly evolving and updating. They’re for fun. Nothing but fun. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="background: white; color: black; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMie749Cq97vmyJeh4uTatIeVajeCF9UDFc1pjLjdNviuYkB_orPtaRfoc8qTb6k0OLt1DpGFaI8_GMHF1xi1Cqy-6GiR3KTKP--XHzcqgy_dd9zwqGo3tNzcy-7eNOWeYXK4PadaJK9AMA3mUOAFoZFdXT4ulkzNFKzL9z3qun4B8NNvWJgmv25hBRA/s800/Jeu_de_main%20wikimedia%20Le%20Nomade%20du%2021eme%20Siecle.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMie749Cq97vmyJeh4uTatIeVajeCF9UDFc1pjLjdNviuYkB_orPtaRfoc8qTb6k0OLt1DpGFaI8_GMHF1xi1Cqy-6GiR3KTKP--XHzcqgy_dd9zwqGo3tNzcy-7eNOWeYXK4PadaJK9AMA3mUOAFoZFdXT4ulkzNFKzL9z3qun4B8NNvWJgmv25hBRA/w400-h266/Jeu_de_main%20wikimedia%20Le%20Nomade%20du%2021eme%20Siecle.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">From such ordinary backgrounds sprang the
great poet without whom we would have no ballads, no fairy tales, no myths,
no legends, no Bible – all of which were made up and told aloud by Anon long before they were written down and published in big thick
books. It's unimaginable. We’d have no proverbs, no skipping rhymes,
no riddles, no jokes. People are naturals at using colourful speech: you
really and truly do not have to learn to read or write in order to express
yourself. And this reminds me of a section about ‘Children’s Folklore and Game
Rhymes’ in a lovely book called ‘Folklore on The American Land’ by Duncan
Emrich (Little, Brown & Company, 1972). Here are some examples. A
counting-out rhyme –</span></span><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: large;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Intery,
Mintery, Cutery, Corn<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Apple
seed and apple thorn,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wire,
briar, limber-lock<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Three
geese in a flock,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One
flew east and one flew west,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
one flew over the cuckoo’s nest,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>O
– U – T spells out!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"">So that’s where the Jack Nicholson film
took its name from!</span><span face="Arial, "sans-serif""> I'd never realised. </span><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"">How about this exuberant skipping rhyme from a school in Washington?</span><span face="Arial, "sans-serif""> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Salome was a dancer<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She danced before the king<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And every time she danced<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She wiggled everything.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">‘Stop,’ said the king,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">‘You can’t do that in here.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">‘Baloney,’ said Salome,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And kicked the chandelier.</span></span><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: large;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And another:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Grandma Moses sick in bed<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Called the doctor and the doctor said<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">‘Grandma Moses, you ain’t sick,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">All you need is a licorice stick.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I gotta pain in my side, Oh Ah!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I gotta pain in my stomach, Oh Ah!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I gotta pain in my head,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Coz the baby said,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Roll-a-roll-a-peep! Roll-a-roll-a-peep!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Bump-te-wa-wa, bump-te-wa-wa,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Roll-a-roll-a-peep!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Downtown baby on a roller coaster<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sweet, sweet baby on a roller coaster<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Shimmy shimmy coco pop<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Shimmy shimmy POP!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Shimmy shimmy coco pop<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Shimmy shimmy POP!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A clapping rhyme I remember from my own schooldays went:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Have you ever ever ever in your long-legged life<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seen a long-legged sailor with a long-legged wife? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 72.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 72pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No, I’ve never never never in my long-legged life<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 72.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 72pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seen a long-legged sailor with a long-legged wife.</span></span><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: large;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The second verse figured a <i>knock-kneed
</i>sailor and a<i> knock-kneed</i> wife, and the third a <i>bow-legged </i>sailor with a
b<i>ow-legged </i>wife, and, as Iona and Peter Opie recorded a child explaining (in
‘The Singing Game’, OUP 1985): ‘Every time you start a new bit you put your
hands on your knees and then clap your hands together – that’s for “Have you”
and “No I’ve”, because they are slow. Then you go quicker and clap against the
other person’s right hand and your own hands again and the other person’s left
hand and your own hands again, and when you say “long-legged life” you separate
your arms out sideways. And when you come to “knock-kneed” and “bow-legged” you
imitate those as well.’ Playing this game was a lot of fun.</span></span><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: large;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Here’s a last one, comically relevant perhaps, given the recent news that the prolific Boris is to become a father again for the 8th (or 9th?) time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Johnsons had a baby,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They called him Tiny Tim,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They put him in a bathtub<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To see if he could swim.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He drank up all the water,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He ate up all the soap,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He tried to eat the bathtub <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But it wouldn’t go down his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mummy Mummy I feel ill,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Call the doctor down the hill.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In came the doctor, in came the nurse,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In came the lady with the alligator purse,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Measles said the doctor,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mumps said the nurse, <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Toothache said the lady with the alligator purse.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Out went the doctor, out went the nurse,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Out went the lady with the alligator purse. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, "sans-serif"" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtFLNL5WRypqhkfzmulagnxyphzwnKsp81lUpDiIckDE7SvM2PYYF7Q62WbTM_Qd-lmv8nfiRQjnmF557dPIY6AQodpk5_GlfgX5NDGp9LZG7odt8Ie4LDL5JQb9fuuef6RqPHpt-zHQ7Nqza_kZmo0WAbUAv3F-3a-vVRE_pGO9xDwVyE14_KDjU3Dw/s1433/Alligator%20purse%20001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="469" data-original-width="1433" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtFLNL5WRypqhkfzmulagnxyphzwnKsp81lUpDiIckDE7SvM2PYYF7Q62WbTM_Qd-lmv8nfiRQjnmF557dPIY6AQodpk5_GlfgX5NDGp9LZG7odt8Ie4LDL5JQb9fuuef6RqPHpt-zHQ7Nqza_kZmo0WAbUAv3F-3a-vVRE_pGO9xDwVyE14_KDjU3Dw/w640-h210/Alligator%20purse%20001.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: black; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: black; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> Picture credits:</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: black; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p>Child Skipping: </o:p></span><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14.85px;"><a href="https://www.birminghammail.co.uk/news/nostalgia/look-fun-games-streets-birmingham-11184178">https://www.birminghammail.co.uk/news/nostalgia/look-fun-games-streets-birmingham-11184178</a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Children playing a clapping game: <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=User:Le_Nomade_du_21%C3%A8me_Si%C3%A8cle&action=edit&redlink=1"><span style="background-color: transparent;">Le Nomade du 21</span><span style="background-color: transparent;">é</span><span style="background-color: transparent;">me
Si</span><span style="background-color: transparent;">é</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=User:Le_Nomade_du_21%C3%A8me_Si%C3%A8cle&action=edit&redlink=1">cle</a>,</span>Wikimedia Commons</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'In came the lady with the alligator purse': from Janet and Allen Ahlberg's 'The Jolly Christmas Postman' (Heinemann, 1991)</p><br /><p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-2431184555731305852023-05-12T04:00:00.000-07:002023-05-12T04:00:04.098-07:00"The Enchanted People": a poem by Lord Dunsany<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzybg9Tke-75mb9plbGC-JmQ8B0mN9j--G9AMbQiyVEo_n2Da8gdXjSW_J1b3EeENOpWJC57gaR1REZaTUzDmsaQGROf3rf8-KuqiunQk-ZxVwpdzWeL1PkVR6NkIfzEP2PE6qm3ZCF9h0S92cQr1pRKHfsAMNkdjSEODDV6KW65Gk6hCnmhYdnqHuHQ/s1600/BernardSleigh_HornsOfElflandFaintlyBlowing_1900_100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="964" data-original-width="1600" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzybg9Tke-75mb9plbGC-JmQ8B0mN9j--G9AMbQiyVEo_n2Da8gdXjSW_J1b3EeENOpWJC57gaR1REZaTUzDmsaQGROf3rf8-KuqiunQk-ZxVwpdzWeL1PkVR6NkIfzEP2PE6qm3ZCF9h0S92cQr1pRKHfsAMNkdjSEODDV6KW65Gk6hCnmhYdnqHuHQ/w640-h386/BernardSleigh_HornsOfElflandFaintlyBlowing_1900_100.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 36pt;"> </span><p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">It came, it came again
to the scented garden,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The
call that they would not heed,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">A clear wild note far
up on the hills above them,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Blown
on an elfin reed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">From the heath in the
hidden dells of a moorland people<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It came so crystal clear<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">That they could not
help a moment’s pause on their pathways,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They could not choose but hear.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The very blackbird,
perched on the wall by cherries,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ripe at the end of June,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Made never a stir
through all of his glossy body,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Learning that unknown tune.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">They needs must hear as
they walked in their valley garden,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Surely they needs must heed<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">That it came from a
folk as magical and enchanted<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">As ever blew upon reed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Surely they must arise
in the heavy valley,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sleepy with years of night,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">And go to the old
immortal things out of fable,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That danced young on the height.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">But the moss was black
and old on the paths about them,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And the weeds were old and deep,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">And they could not
remember who were high on the uplands;<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And they needed sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">And they thought that a
day might come when someone would call them<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With a song more loud and plain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">And the call rang past
like birds going over a desert,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And it never came again. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Dunsany wrote of this poem: ‘One night in June, after I had gone to bed, there came to me
the scene of a poem more vividly than one had ever come before. It is hard to
say what it is about; indeed I do not entirely know. I only know that I saw the
scene very vividly, and [...] the feeling that I ought to get up and write it
there and then was as strong as the vision itself. So for the first time in my
life I got out of bed and and went downstairs to write a poem, and it came
without any difficulty, and I feel sure that I should never have been able to
write it had I left it till morning. ... Most of my poems are simple and very
clear, but sometimes a vision may come as if from a far country.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILTsbFWbNQJ8jc3vs79Iw4RjWCpZApb2Y85RScaM0-Ah0VfkwOeITa7h74HeVyV4WAXUoJXnDTzSXmacSYQh42jHTC0_9-B_q2eKBtu_NfGHAJnmehXMzv3TEqENJjkWxxCcd8wmMDoskf8Wp_QHYukC88Wis-Tcfvr4h3E0Uy9Gn6WhzCeBzyz26DQ/s517/Bernard%20Sleigh%20Faun%20at%20the%20Gates%20of%20Horn%201922_%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="517" data-original-width="410" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILTsbFWbNQJ8jc3vs79Iw4RjWCpZApb2Y85RScaM0-Ah0VfkwOeITa7h74HeVyV4WAXUoJXnDTzSXmacSYQh42jHTC0_9-B_q2eKBtu_NfGHAJnmehXMzv3TEqENJjkWxxCcd8wmMDoskf8Wp_QHYukC88Wis-Tcfvr4h3E0Uy9Gn6WhzCeBzyz26DQ/w509-h640/Bernard%20Sleigh%20Faun%20at%20the%20Gates%20of%20Horn%201922_%20(2).jpg" width="509" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><u>Picture credits:</u></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p>The Horns of Elfland Faintly Blowing - by Bernard Sleigh </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p>Faun at the Gates of Horn - by Bernard Sleigh</o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-44846867259874428072023-04-17T04:29:00.007-07:002023-05-25T13:42:02.573-07:00Naming and Identity in Myths, Legends, Fairy Tales & Fantasy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSWUG8DPPYShSjsU8dIsNanX-TaO5BlyoMjNjBUouCS2T0kW20AMRkW7en-yDGjAZNdBRIagdBcHG7LNLUhWnrjOAeosgla6PxQXVVV2M4EtuiJd6PhSenA2kUh15-pyVrszctjaq6h54elW1WFcOEp6QzBuT5B35JOMysNtslGbBpdaxwqJRcbZJTsw/s660/Hieronymus_Bosch_-_The_Garden_of_Earthly_Delights_-_The_Earthly_Paradise_(Garden_of_Eden)%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="660" data-original-width="319" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSWUG8DPPYShSjsU8dIsNanX-TaO5BlyoMjNjBUouCS2T0kW20AMRkW7en-yDGjAZNdBRIagdBcHG7LNLUhWnrjOAeosgla6PxQXVVV2M4EtuiJd6PhSenA2kUh15-pyVrszctjaq6h54elW1WFcOEp6QzBuT5B35JOMysNtslGbBpdaxwqJRcbZJTsw/w310-h640/Hieronymus_Bosch_-_The_Garden_of_Earthly_Delights_-_The_Earthly_Paradise_(Garden_of_Eden)%20(2).jpg" width="310" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">To begin near the beginning: the
name Adam was originally not a proper name at all. In his book <i>The Five Books of Moses: A Translation with
Commentary</i>, the Hebrew scholar Robert Alter remarks of Adam’s first
appearance in Genesis 1.26:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The term <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">’adam</i>,
afterwards consistently used with a definite article, which is used both here
and in the second account of the origins of humankind, is a generic term for
human beings, not a proper noun. It also does not automatically suggest maleness
[...]. And so the traditional rendering “man” is misleading, and an exclusively
male <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">’adam</i> would make nonsense of the
last clause of verse 27: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">And
God created the human <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">[the ’adam]</i> in
his image,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">in the
image of God He created him,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">male
and female he created them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In case you’re thinking, ‘Wait
a minute, there’s a ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">him</i>’ right there
in the second line,’ Alter adds:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In the
middle clause of this verse, “him”, as in the Hebrew, is grammatically but not
anatomically masculine. Feminist critics have raised the question as to whether
here and in the second account of human origins, in chapter 2, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">’adam </i>is to be imagined as sexually
undifferentiated until the fashioning of woman, though that proposal leads to
certain dizzying paradoxes in following the story.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I love this and feel it could
well be true: it’s a reminder that translating a word from one language to
another is often far from straightforward. In the second chapter of Genesis,
God fashions the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">’adam</i> from the ’<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">adamah </i>(‘the human from the soil’: an
etymological pun) like a potter moulding a figure out of clay. ‘A person’ in French
is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">une personne, </i>grammatically
feminine even if the person in question is male. French <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">la table</i> is feminine while German <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">der tisch</i> is masculine, but no one thinks tables are male or
female. Grammatical gender need not and often does not correspond to biological
gender. In any case, a clay figure <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">has</i>
no biological gender. Whatever it <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">looks</span>
like, it is asexual. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Name-giving is an act of power, 'deep magic from the dawn of time'. Even to speak is to exercise that power. Few
of us choose our own names; they are given by our parents when we’re so young we
can have no say in the matter, and as Adam and Eve ‘ruled’ over the animals, parents hold authority over their children. No matter how benevolent the
relationship, this is probably why when children go to school, they often abbreviate
their names or adopt nick-names. It’s a small act of self-assertion, part of the
journey towards detaching themselves from parental rule. To change your name is
in some way to change yourself. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWeOlPR-Utg1ldGh8Fu4BgoR5K-tpdil5KrLLLYQL7l6ndK4vn4RHUUYuibzNj0jmfwaY4yts_B-9LUb1Uxw-yCFV7ATqgVhrDS10jkLL2hYFTwADeZA39EPx4HqAfTmoT7uwLknsQwT7iS4f6FU1TX01WGW8JCJwKSp-0XNi7WIyyDAq5hQlfRgXNgw/s1428/wizard%20of%20earthsea%20001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1428" data-original-width="872" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWeOlPR-Utg1ldGh8Fu4BgoR5K-tpdil5KrLLLYQL7l6ndK4vn4RHUUYuibzNj0jmfwaY4yts_B-9LUb1Uxw-yCFV7ATqgVhrDS10jkLL2hYFTwADeZA39EPx4HqAfTmoT7uwLknsQwT7iS4f6FU1TX01WGW8JCJwKSp-0XNi7WIyyDAq5hQlfRgXNgw/w390-h640/wizard%20of%20earthsea%20001.jpg" width="390" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">This brings me to the Old
Speech in Ursula Le Guin’s Earthsea series. In the first book, ‘A Wizard of
Earthsea’ (above, see my much-read copy of 1971) the hero Ged, whose use-name is Sparrowhawk (a true name is kept secret) arrives at the Wizards’ School on
the island of Roke to be sent with seven other apprentices to the Master Namer,
Kurremkarmerruk, in the Isolate Tower. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">No
farm or dwelling lay within miles of the Tower. Grim it stood above the
northern cliffs, grey were the clouds over the seas of winter, endless the
lists and ranks and rounds of names that the namer’s eight pupils must learn.
Amongst them in the Tower’s high room Kurremkarmerruk sat on a high seat,
writing down lists of names that must be learned before the ink faded at
midnight leaving the parchment blank again. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Hard as this is, Ged does not
complain. ‘He saw that in this dusty and fathomless matter of learning the true
name of each place, thing and being, the power he wanted lay like a jewel at
the bottom of a dry well. For magic consists in this, the true naming of a
thing.’ He learns that the Old Speech is the speech of the Making, ‘the
language Segoy spoke who made the islands of the world’ and still spoken by dragons.
We never learn much about Segoy, but in this origin myth it’s Segoy’s naming that
brings Earthsea into existence – just as in the Book of Genesis, God brings the
world into existence. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">God
said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light. [...] And God called the light
Day, and the darkness He called Night. And it was evening and it was morning,
first day. And God said, ‘Let there be a vault in the midst of the waters, and
let it divide water from water.’ And God called the vault Heavens, and it was
evening and morning, second day. And God said, ‘Let the waters under the
heavens be gathered in one place so that the dry land will appear.’ And so it
was. And God called the dry land Earth and the gathering of the waters He
called Seas...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In Genesis 2, in contrast to
the order of creation in Genesis 1, God creates animals <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">after</i> having created the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">’adam</i>,
bringing each one of them to the human ‘to see what he would call it, and
whatever the human called a living creature, that was its name.’ It’s as though,
having created human beings ‘in his own image’, God delegates the naming of
things to them. There’s a strong hint that the naming of things – language – is
an integral part of human ‘rule’ over animals. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Names, or nouns, are single-word descriptions,
the beginning of categorisation and a typically human and cerebral form of
knowledge. When in prehistory did spoken languages begin? Probably we’ll never
know, but the Language of the Making , the Words of Creation – is a powerful
myth. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In learning the true names of
things, Ged gains power over them, a power that should be used sparingly and never
selfishly. He finds this out the hard way when prompted by pride and anger, he
summons by her name the spirit of beautiful Elfarran, a thousand years dead.
And she appears.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The
shapeless mass of darkness he had lifted split apart. It sundered, and a pale
spindle of light gleamed between his opened arms, a faint oval reaching from
the ground up to the height of his raised hands. In the oval of light for a
moment there moved a form, a human shape: a tall woman looking back over her
shoulder. Her face was beautiful, and sorrowful, and full of fear.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She is glimpsed only for a
moment. Then the gap Ged has opened widens and rips ‘and through the bright
misshapen breach clambered something like a clot of black shadow, quick and
hideous, and it leaped straight out at Ged’s face’, tearing and clawing him. It
costs the life of the Archmage Nemmerle to close the gap, and for the rest of
the book Ged is pursued by the shadow-beast he has let loose – until at last he
has the self-knowledge to claim this darkness as<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> himself</i> and calls it by his own name. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTuZgC_SULxHI7YJbIFVjbiHasXyOS8v0oqMN0BZ_3VpZS-du5NCORCTumLvfUil5fqlqN2QXPev0k_vrYmqKSDwnRZ542iVVZsmzVIM1aUoAV4qvYJO1Br_o4nOjo0c0gIro7jV96b1rYm76ixA9HR-IcjWLG1SK8-rUH_6GtQ8XzSwfz6En3Oi73Tg/s800/John_Dee_Ashmolean.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTuZgC_SULxHI7YJbIFVjbiHasXyOS8v0oqMN0BZ_3VpZS-du5NCORCTumLvfUil5fqlqN2QXPev0k_vrYmqKSDwnRZ542iVVZsmzVIM1aUoAV4qvYJO1Br_o4nOjo0c0gIro7jV96b1rYm76ixA9HR-IcjWLG1SK8-rUH_6GtQ8XzSwfz6En3Oi73Tg/s320/John_Dee_Ashmolean.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Many a medieval alchemist or renaissance
doctor attempted to conjure up spirits using what they conceived to be the
power of holy or unholy names. Katharine Briggs in ‘The Anatomy of Puck’ appends
a spell from Bodleian MS. Ashmole (1406) ‘To Call a Fairy’, parts of which run:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I.E.A
call the. Elaby: Gathan: in the name of the. father. of. the. son. and of the
holy ghost. And. I Adjure. the. Elaby. Gathan: Conjure. and. Straightly.
charge. and Command. thee. by. Tetragrammaton: Emanuell. Messias. Sether.
Panton. Cratons. Alpha et Omega. [...] And. I. Conjure thee. Elaby. by. these.
holy. Names. of God. Saday. Eloy. Iskyros, Adonay. Sabaoth. that thou appear
presently. meekely. and myldly. in this glasse. without. doeinge. hurt. or.
daunger. unto. me. or any other. livinge. creature... <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Knowledge of the fairy’s name was
only half the battle: the magician clearly felt the need of divine protection
when it did appear. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7gYpQFHPMNxpCmh8qLY4flKlZFXfIUmmqOI1LA6Fi5i1P1z-QToGAzgki1Pp3xHulEqQLNzqtUS5dSNpdb3y0tE19lNTVONzEP_J1Wta1BuZHovBXCiGOLZ-ms8nMn11EHi52G090bLJXfK1SV2AJWmzfG38XJ7tntYsSbuBKIYqkcosaaIybPvgIA/s1094/Reginald_Scott,_The_Discoverie_of_Witchcraft_(1584).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1094" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7gYpQFHPMNxpCmh8qLY4flKlZFXfIUmmqOI1LA6Fi5i1P1z-QToGAzgki1Pp3xHulEqQLNzqtUS5dSNpdb3y0tE19lNTVONzEP_J1Wta1BuZHovBXCiGOLZ-ms8nMn11EHi52G090bLJXfK1SV2AJWmzfG38XJ7tntYsSbuBKIYqkcosaaIybPvgIA/w468-h640/Reginald_Scott,_The_Discoverie_of_Witchcraft_(1584).jpg" width="468" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">An even more egregious example is given by Reginald Scot in
his scathing take-down of charlatans and superstition, ‘The Discoverie of
Witchcraft’ (1584). Of many examples, he includes a ‘prayer’ (!) for
binding and commanding angels ‘throwne downe from heaven’, which runs in part:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I
require thee, O Lord Jesus Christ, that thou give thy virtue and power over all
thine angels which were throwne downe from heaven to deceive mankind, to draw
them to me, to command them to do all they can, and that [...] they obeie me
and my saiengs, and fear me. [...] and I require thee, Adonay, Amay, Horta,
Vegedora, Mitai, Hel, Suranat, Ysion, Ysesy, and by all thy holie names [...]
that thou enable me to congregate all thy spirits throwne down from heaven,
that they may give me a true answer of all my demands, and that they satisfy
all my requests, without the hurt of my bodie or soule, or anything that is
mine...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The word ‘require’ in the late
1580s hadn’t the force it has today; it meant something more like ‘request’ or
‘desire’ – but this magician is clearly attempting to bend Christ to his will
by the use of the various ‘holy’ names he attributes to him, and through Christ
to gain magical power over (and immunity from) devils. Talk about nerve! Some
of the names look very made-up. ‘Vegedora’ sounds like a brand of soft
margarine, but whatever is the Norse goddess of the underworld, Hel, doing in that
list? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Besides summoning, it
was of course possible to banish or exorcise an evil spirit, if you knew its
name. In the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 5, Jesus casts out an ‘unclean spirit’
from a madman who was living ‘among the tombs’ and whom no one could restrain
even with chains, for he broke them all.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">When
he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and bowed down before him, and he shouted
at the top of his voice, ‘What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most
High God? I adjure you, by God, do not torment me.’ (For Jesus had already said
to him, ‘Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!’) Then Jesus asked him, ‘What
is your name?’ He replied, ‘My name is Legion, for we are many.’ [...] Now
there on the hillside a great herd of swine was feeding, and the unclean
spirits begged [Jesus], ‘Send us into the swine.’ So he gave them permission.
And the unclean spirits came out and entered the swine, and the herd ... rushed
down the steep bank into the sea and were drowned. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In his book on the New
Testament, ‘Scripting Jesus’ (2010) L. Michael White points out that ‘the demon
actually tries to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">exorcize</i> Jesus by
saying, “I adjure you by God, do not torment me.” The word usually translated
“adjure” here is the Greek <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">orkizein</i>
(“conjure”), just as was used in demon spells.’ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, ironically, this demon tries calling on
the name of God to negate Jesus’ power. It is unable to resist when Jesus
demands its own name.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Given the belief that you
could conjure up demons or fairies by name, it’s unsurprising that magical
characters in fairy tales and folklore often keep their names secret. If they were
known, others would wield power over them. In ‘<a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2023/03/the-water-horse-of-varkasaig.html"><b>The Water-Horse of Varkasaig</b>’</a>, a folktale from Skye, the dangerous water-horse is foiled of his prey (a young
maiden) when the girl’s mother threatens to ‘cry his name to the four brown
boundaries of the earth’ and to prove she can do it, whispers it in his ear. On
hearing it, with a terrible shriek the water-horse plunges into the river and
vanishes. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qFF5p2ElLGb5-92YS4CfEFy6v9jCwO02tJ2xlEKITA2zOMgCn9A5BsUQsPFWhFpjSJ-M3u_KjcOIbJHR9V0cAmhRRUW6zEM_pAvqApki3udFlnPlvRak2b8Zkx2yRr9l3g_gQ-QoJANr5erm_E5a-EbOUSLxUZ41RpufR1Xwlbg3-KjhwiYnoHUJVw/s468/Rumpelstiltskin-Crane1886.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="209" data-original-width="468" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qFF5p2ElLGb5-92YS4CfEFy6v9jCwO02tJ2xlEKITA2zOMgCn9A5BsUQsPFWhFpjSJ-M3u_KjcOIbJHR9V0cAmhRRUW6zEM_pAvqApki3udFlnPlvRak2b8Zkx2yRr9l3g_gQ-QoJANr5erm_E5a-EbOUSLxUZ41RpufR1Xwlbg3-KjhwiYnoHUJVw/w400-h179/Rumpelstiltskin-Crane1886.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Rumpelstiltskin famously tears
himself in two with rage when the young woman whose straw he has spun into gold
guesses his name. Variants of the story are found across Europe, and many’s the
hero or heroine who manages to wriggle out of similarly unwise bargains. In his 'Teutonic Mythology' Jacob
Grimm tells how King Olaf of Norway (later Saint Olaf) hired a large troll or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">jøtun</i> to build him a fine church on the
agreement that once it was finished, his payment should be the sun and
moon, or else Olaf himself. Olaf set conditions which he thought the troll could
not possibly meet: the church should be so large that seven priests could
preach in it at once without disturbing one another, and the pillars and
carvings were all to be made from the hardest flint. But soon the church was
almost finished, with only the roof and spire left to complete. Understandably worried,
Olaf ‘wandered over hill and dale, when suddenly inside a mountain he heard a child
cry and a troll-woman lulling it: “Hush, hush! Thy father, Wind-and-Weather,
will come home in the morning, and bring you the sun and moon, or else Saint
Olaf himself!”’ Hurrying home in delight, for ‘the power of evil beings ceases
when their name is known’, Olaf found the troll just placing the spire on the
roof. ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vind och veder</i>!’ he cried, ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">du har dat spiran sneder</i>’ – ‘Wind and
Weather! You’ve set the spire on crooked!’ – upon which the troll fell off the
roof and burst into a thousand pieces. All variants include this accidental
overhearing of the supernatural helper’s name. In a Danish version, St Olaf’s
role is taken by one Esbern Snare (historically, a 12th century Danish chieftain and crusader), who hears a troll woman within a hill
singing:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Lie
still, baby mine!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Tomorrow comes Fin, father thine,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">And
giveth thee Esbern Snare’s eyes and heart to play with.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">It’s possible to feel rather
sorry for the trolls or imps who lose their labour (or lives!) in this way. My
friend the writer Inbali Iserles has remarked of <a href="https://steelthistles.blogspot.com/2011/01/fairytale-reflections-18-inbali-iserles.html">‘<b>Rumpelstiltkin’</b></a> that it is ‘a
story where the greedy succeed, the victim is unsympathetic, and the villain
curiously wretched.’ But it’s hard to feel sorry for the gleeful little imp Tom
Tit Tot, eponymous villain of the splendid Norfolk dialect version. After the Queen
has failed for the second time to guess its name (‘Is that Methuselem’ – ‘Noo,
t’aint that neither’), the imp <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">looks
at her with that’s eyes like a cool o’ fire, an’ that says, “Woman, there’s
only to-morrer night, an’ then yar’ll be mine!” n’ away te flew. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">However the King her husband has
overheard the imp’s name. Remarking casually to his wife that ‘I reckon I
shorn’t ha’ to kill you’ (seeing that she’s successfully spun the skeins each
night so far), he sits down to supper with her and tells how out hunting he
came across a curious little black thing singing, ‘Nimmy nimmy not/My name’s
Tom Tit Tot’. Next day the Queen is well prepared: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">[T]hat there little thing looked soo maliceful when he come
for the flax. An’ when night came she heerd that a knockin’ agin the winder
panes. She oped the winder, an’ that come right in on the ledge. That were
grinnin’ from are to are, an’ Oo! tha’s tail were twirling round so fast. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘What’s my
name?’ that says, as that gonned her the skeins.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Is that
Solomon?’ she says, pretending to be afeared.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Noo,
t’ain’t,’ that says, and that come fudder inter the room.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Well is
that Zebedee?’ says she agin.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Noo,
t’ain’t,’ says the impet. An’ then that laughed an’ that twirled that’s tail
till yew cou’n’t hardly see it. ‘Take time, woman,’ that says’ ‘next guess, an
you’re mine.’ An’ that stretched out that’s black hands at her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Well, she
backed a step or two, an’ she looked at it, an’ then she laughed out, an’ says
she, a pointin’ of her finger at it –<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Nimmy nimmy
not, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Yar name’s Tom Tit Tot.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Well
when that hard her, that shruck awful an’ awa’ that flew into the dark, an’ she
niver saw it noo more.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirVGXCLCvj2Q22YG70SHdUaDIO0zs2dk2kuPl6fP1xJfutJxhMjq_ygGCxIl1OSTLERiDXGspquebteIPnQ0A3Z9uZf9IDXPi8wBvEQ-Lyb13_MWtEHgu6FeMF_4YOXfkpqp5OY5EDWmEXm7CVndBfK_lPAgkrFTlrPu9hmIlLGOWBB3tVxXnTdaDgQ/s727/Tom%20Tit%20Tot%20John%20D%20Batten.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="727" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirVGXCLCvj2Q22YG70SHdUaDIO0zs2dk2kuPl6fP1xJfutJxhMjq_ygGCxIl1OSTLERiDXGspquebteIPnQ0A3Z9uZf9IDXPi8wBvEQ-Lyb13_MWtEHgu6FeMF_4YOXfkpqp5OY5EDWmEXm7CVndBfK_lPAgkrFTlrPu9hmIlLGOWBB3tVxXnTdaDgQ/w400-h344/Tom%20Tit%20Tot%20John%20D%20Batten.png" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><div><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>Characters in fairy tales are
often referred to either by generic descriptions </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">– </span>‘the king’s
daughter’, ‘the boy’, ‘the maiden’, and so on – or by the common names of whatever
country the tale is set in, such as Hans, Klaus, Ivan, Kate, Jack. But many fairy
tale names are purely descriptive. Little Red-Cap or ‘Red Riding Hood’ is so called
after her red head-wear. The faithful servant in ‘The Frog King’ is named Iron
Henry because ‘he had been so unhappy when his master was changed into a frog,
that he had caused three iron bars to be laid round his heart, lest it should
burst with grief’. The names Snow-White and Rose Red describe the innocence and
beauty of the characters, and ‘The Mastermaid’ is an apt description of the lively,
clever, magic-working young woman of that Norwegian story.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Sometimes these names are </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">insulting.
Cinder-lad, Aschenputtel, Tatterhood, Dummling are given their names by families
which despise them: but since fairy tales always favour the underdog, we know
they’re going to succeed. The princess known as ‘</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Allerleihrauh’ (All Kinds of Fur) escapes from
her incestuous father dressed in a cloak of, yes, all kinds of fur. ‘Coat o’
Rushes’ disguises herself in a woven reed coat after her King Lear-like father
throws her out, and the princess in the Norwegian fairy tale ‘Katy Woodencloak’
wears a clattering cloak of wooden laths. All three serve as kitchenmaids in
these guises, and all three restore their fortunes. The names derived from
their actions come to define them: ‘real’ names, if they had any, would be
superfluous. It’s all very existential. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiBfnbf2mS6RjO4G6moO5E0OFvj3LZdPFYjMzYugqSSU3P4TRYeC5UOFSCwjgEGGxMBasOdkimLDKgo3RuR30doFso59f--A5cemsr1Fb1MTe8spN4-ir6MAwBQ22-ybLvcYI2RKsO1bGpqdC4EBHJ6Kph-9SMMC67TmsxRlKfE6Zlu52moS6SR23Rcg/s396/Cuchulain%20and%20the%20hound.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="396" data-original-width="278" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiBfnbf2mS6RjO4G6moO5E0OFvj3LZdPFYjMzYugqSSU3P4TRYeC5UOFSCwjgEGGxMBasOdkimLDKgo3RuR30doFso59f--A5cemsr1Fb1MTe8spN4-ir6MAwBQ22-ybLvcYI2RKsO1bGpqdC4EBHJ6Kph-9SMMC67TmsxRlKfE6Zlu52moS6SR23Rcg/w281-h400/Cuchulain%20and%20the%20hound.jpg" width="281" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">As I’ve said above, to change
your name is to change yourself. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A seven
year-old boy called Setanta son of Sualtim (his true father is Lugh of the Long
Hand, Irish god of light and war) kills<span style="color: red;"> </span>Culain
the Smith’s savage guard-dog. When Culain complains, the boy offers to train up
another hound for him, until which time: ‘I myself will be your watch-dog, to
guard your goods and your cattle and your house.’ Hearing this, Cathbad the
Druid renames the boy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I could have given no better award myself,’ said Cathbad
the Druid. ‘And from this out,’ he said, ‘your name will be Cuchulain, the
Hound of Culain.’ ‘I am better pleased with my own name of Setanta, son of
Sualim,’ said the boy. ‘Do not say that,’ said Cathbad, ‘for all the men in the
whole world will some day have the name of Cuchulain in their mouths.’ ‘If that
is so, I am content to keep it,’ said the boy. And this is how he came by the
name Cuchulain.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cuchulain of Muirthemne tr. Lady Gregory,
John Murray, 1907, 11<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Cuchulain’s offer of
substitution – ‘I will be your watch dog’ – and his new name ‘Hound of Culain’ suggests
that from now on dogs are Cuchulain’s kindred or totem. He is laid under two <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">geasa</i>: never to refuse a meal offered to
him by a woman and never to eat the flesh of a dog. At the end of his life,
riding out to fight against Maeve’s great army, both <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">geasa</i> are used against him by three witches.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">After a while he saw three hags, and they blind of the left
eye, before him in the road, and they having a venomous hound they were cooking
with charms on rods of the rowan tree. And he was going by them, for he knew it
was not for his good they were there. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But one of
the hags called to him, ‘Stop a while with us, Cuchulain.’ ‘I will not stop
with you,” said Cuchulain. ‘That is because we have nothing better than a dog
to give you,’ said the hag. ‘If we had a grand, big cooking hearth, you would
stop and visit us, but because it is only a little that we have, you will not
stop.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>…Then he went over to her, and she
gave him the shoulder-blade of the hound out of her left hand, and he ate it
out of his left hand. And he put it down on his left thigh, and the hand that
took it was struck down, and the thigh he put it on was struck through and
through, so that the strength that was in them before left them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Like the actions of those
fairy tale princesses </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Allerleihrauh</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">, Katy Woodencloak and
Coat o’ Rushes, C</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">uchulain’s boyhood decision to ‘become’ Culain
the Smith’s hound triggers his renaming, and changes the course of his life.
Cathbad the Druid says, ‘All the men in the whole world will some day have the
name of Cuchulain in their mouths.’ Cuchulain’s future identity as a hero is
somehow bound up with his acceptance of this new name. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In Ursula le Guin’s collection
‘Tales From Earthsea’ there’s a wonderful story called ‘Dragonfly’, about a
young woman who travels to the Isle of Roke hoping to enter the School for
Wizards. Her use-name is Dragonfly, but the Doorkeeper asks for her true name –
as he asks everyone who wishes for admittance – and her true name is one she’s
accepted but has never felt really comfortable with.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Do you know whose name you must tell me before I let you
in?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘My own,
sir. It is Irian.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Is it?’ he
said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That gave
her pause. She stood silent. ‘It’s the name the witch Rose of my village on Way
gave me, in the spring under Iria Hill,’ she said at last, standing up and
speaking truth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
Doorkeeper looked at her for what seemed a long time. ‘Then it is your name,’
he said. ‘But maybe not all your name. I think you have another.’ <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘I don’t know it, sir.’ After another
long time she said, ‘Maybe I can learn it here, sir.’ <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Irian does not find her other
true name here on Roke; but she does discover her true nature and her power:
and when Thorion the Master Summoner (who is literally a dead man walking)
attempts to bind her, he fails.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Slowly he raised his arms and the white staff in invocation
of a spell, speaking in the tongue that all the wizards and mages of Roke had
learned, the language of their art, the Language of the Making: ‘Irian, by your
name I summon you and bind you to obey me!’ <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She hesitated, seeming for a moment to
yield, to come to him, and then cried out, ‘I am not only Irian!’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The Summoner lunges at her,
running up on to Roke Knoll where all things become their true selves. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">They
were both on the hill now. She towered above him impossibly, fire breaking
forth between them, a flare of red flame in the dusk air, a gleam of red-gold
scales, of vast wings – then that was gone, and there was nothing there but the
woman standing on the hill path and the tall man bowing down before her, bowing
slowly down to the earth, and lying on it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Thorion’s return to death
restores the Equilibrium, although from now on there will be a new balance.
Irian departs ‘beyond the west’ to find the dragons, ‘Those who will give me my
name. In fire, not water. My people.’ In dragon form she springs into the air
and flies, and as ‘a curl of fire, a wisp of smoke’ drifts down through the
darkening air, the men stand silent, watching. ‘What now?’ asks her friend the
Master Patterner. And the Doorkeeper of the Wizards’ School on Roke answers
simply, ‘I think we should go to our house, and open its doors.’ </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">It is the last
line of the story. And the story is all about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">difference</i>. Who is Irian? Is she indeed a woman? Can you be two
things at once? What is her truth? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In the world of Earthsea as
Ursula le Guin developed it over decades, humanity and dragons were once one
kind, one kindred: the dragons were there at the beginning: the Eldest, born
knowing the True Speech. Then came the Division, the separation of dragons and
humans: but some still are of both kinds. Irian is not only such a one, she is
also female, a woman, considered by most of the Mages of Roke as less than a
man. ‘I am not only Irian!’ she cries, refusing to be limited to a single
identity. So yes, the story is about difference and prejudice, about names and
the changing of names and the discovering of new identities. And it asks us not
to prejudge, but to accept and open our doors to those who come to us with
their differences. I think it is good advice. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKsotfdJksfrFcmZI4-1MtFpMavpdGbiN0Y6JjUjyyrTTPsojZj6Zy4BUauc6Ph_2NztiUPqSTfMk44QXuTprFJP6twcqPXm50vJ_33nk8Y0VL26fk_HHpdM6eGXf64kGXOQs3uoDTh-KiBkmd90EP9paiVhGEoq88ZGYsFNB6fVBGmLk09ti6YHUnOg/s200/heaser%20footer4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="115" data-original-width="200" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKsotfdJksfrFcmZI4-1MtFpMavpdGbiN0Y6JjUjyyrTTPsojZj6Zy4BUauc6Ph_2NztiUPqSTfMk44QXuTprFJP6twcqPXm50vJ_33nk8Y0VL26fk_HHpdM6eGXf64kGXOQs3uoDTh-KiBkmd90EP9paiVhGEoq88ZGYsFNB6fVBGmLk09ti6YHUnOg/s1600/heaser%20footer4.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif"; line-height: 107%;"><u>Picture credits:</u><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Adam and Eve in the garden with God:
Hieronymous Bosch, The Garden of Earthly Delights, c. 1490-1510</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">A Wizard of Earthsea, Penguin 1971, cover art &
design Brian Hampton</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Dr John Dee (1507-1608). Artist unknown, Ashmolean, Oxford, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Dee#/media/File:John_Dee_Ashmolean.jpg">image from wikipedia</a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">The Discoverie of Witchcraft, title page,
British Library,</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Discoverie_of_Witchcraft" style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> image from wikipedia</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Rumpelstiltskin: Walter Crane, 1886</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Tom Tit Tot: English Fairy Tales by Joseph
Jacobs, ill. John D Batten</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"><span style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";">Setanta Kills the Hound: ill. Stephen Reid,</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C%C3%BA_Chulainn" style="font-family: Garamond, "serif";"> imagefrom wikipedia</a></p><br /></div>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-7435870037194687952023-04-05T03:31:00.003-07:002023-04-05T03:40:52.114-07:00In Praise of Wise Fools and Jesters<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWSx6Y7KGgIcHsladkgWMps2gtCQrOf8cwIDowKCDG4uFzxX1n2P09s-6HZ-En7SSKbgjczgGlv8blPpUR1llJqfZIROpQ9pJgbkUxCP4sFaSm_3P2SI7aB0fAplGCHSKpeaY4LXFfSIPeoVAQiqY0PJqtzdr65CpHu0xLPR3HDbJNPJrqRpK54Ze2gg/s599/Court_jester_stockholm.jpg%20anon%2015th%20C.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="431" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWSx6Y7KGgIcHsladkgWMps2gtCQrOf8cwIDowKCDG4uFzxX1n2P09s-6HZ-En7SSKbgjczgGlv8blPpUR1llJqfZIROpQ9pJgbkUxCP4sFaSm_3P2SI7aB0fAplGCHSKpeaY4LXFfSIPeoVAQiqY0PJqtzdr65CpHu0xLPR3HDbJNPJrqRpK54Ze2gg/w460-h640/Court_jester_stockholm.jpg%20anon%2015th%20C.jpg" width="460" /></a></div><br /> <br /><p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There are fools. There
are foolish fools and wise fools, and this essay will concern itself
(mainly) with the wise ones.<span> </span>Foolish
fools, in the oral tradition and in literature, are simpletons who make
bad decisions. Granted three wishes, they squander their chances, wish for
something as modest as a black pudding, wish it on to their partner’s nose
during a marital squabble, and use up the third wish to remove it again (‘The
Three Wishes’, ‘<i>More English Fairytales’</i>,
Joseph Jacobs, 1894). Stories about them are intended as laughter-provoking
demonstrations of how <i>not</i> to behave;
yet sometimes they throw light upon the unsuspected absurdities of worldly
wisdom. Wise fools on the other hand are often conscious critics and iconoclasts
who, from a theoretically lowly but in fact often privileged social position,
turn their wit upon their masters. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Perhaps
ever since there have been rulers, there have been professional fools, jesters
and comedians who have been given (or who have taken) license to expose and
hold up to ridicule the kings, priests, presidents and public figures, the
laws, mores, prejudices, injustices and – yes – follies of the societies in
which they live.<span> </span>They are a world-wide
phenomenon.<span> </span>In her book <i>‘Fools Are Everywhere: The Court Jester
Around the World’</i> (2001) Beatrice K. Otto
chronicles court jesters not only from Europe but also Russia, India, and
Imperial China. All employed the same type of impudence, requiring quick wits
and strong nerves. She quotes Marais, jester to Louis XIII, remarking to his
king:<span> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">‘Il y a deux choses dans votre metier dont je ne me pourrais
accommoder … De manger tout seul et de chier en compagnie.’<span> </span>[‘There are two things about your job I
couldn’t cope with – eating alone and shitting in company.’]<span> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It isn’t just a jibe: Marais
strikes home to a truth about the surreal world of the court. Cocooned in
stultifying ceremony, kings clearly found relief in the direct, disrespectful speech
of their jesters, the only members of court permitted to speak to them man to
man. Like the child in ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’, Marais sees through the
apparent splendour of Louis’s life, and acknowledges it as both lonely and
bizarre. When Henry VIII of England
was given the title ‘Defender of the Faith,’ one of his jesters is reported to
have shaken his head and said to Henry (using the familiar tense), ‘Let thou
and I defend one another, and let faith alone to defend itself.’ In both cases
the role of jester or fool echoes that of the slave who would stand in the
triumphal car directly behind a victorious Roman general and whisper in his ear
from time to time, ‘Remember, thou art mortal.’ The work of these jesters was
as much to keep the monarch grounded, even sane – as to keep him amused.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsKMnYpELZsuZIGHaWArc5Je-PDrJZOTaJEv3lH6xdiu2IcV9EIu3Zd_qL-8nRKGm-1U6fRJDWTlI8tA6T7kZPAGre2-A9KxA3CNtzNkRTPwR30QQeCsHKxswvjmEBffw-qBAayDODOh2IFD0pbEuZH67QWCaCC1ocmPF_dBvVIzQ7lyKmMX-d5MiItw/s500/Miniature%20of%20David%20and%20the%20Fool,%20from%20the%20Psalter%20of%20Henry%20VIII,%20England%20(London),%20c.%201540-1541,%20Royal%20MS%202%20A%20XVI,%20f.%2063v%20BL.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="461" data-original-width="500" height="590" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsKMnYpELZsuZIGHaWArc5Je-PDrJZOTaJEv3lH6xdiu2IcV9EIu3Zd_qL-8nRKGm-1U6fRJDWTlI8tA6T7kZPAGre2-A9KxA3CNtzNkRTPwR30QQeCsHKxswvjmEBffw-qBAayDODOh2IFD0pbEuZH67QWCaCC1ocmPF_dBvVIzQ7lyKmMX-d5MiItw/w640-h590/Miniature%20of%20David%20and%20the%20Fool,%20from%20the%20Psalter%20of%20Henry%20VIII,%20England%20(London),%20c.%201540-1541,%20Royal%20MS%202%20A%20XVI,%20f.%2063v%20BL.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And a wise ruler would listen to what his fool told him. <i>‘King Lear’</i> is a play which examines
folly and madness as closely as it does pride and ingratitude. Lear’s terrible
folly is to relinquish power and divide his kingdom between his two elder
daughters. It’s Lear’s fool who stays with him when everyone else has left him.
And the fool gives good advice, as fools will.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fool: Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lear: No.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fool: Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lear: Why?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fool: Why, to put his head in, not to give it away to his
daughter and leave his horns without a case. … If thou wert my fool, nuncle,
I’d have thee beaten for being old before thy time.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lear: How’s that?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fool: Thou shouldst not have been old before thou wert wise.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>King
Lear, I, vi</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim4qbRHKHic2d0gr2-0A3rpQa20yXjuDVckIb9jBjcoqlS4rVdCO5no-DAMqoQWVFf_bqIU9Crz_Z1IQ9kQEVHNgwPCNJwvIdNOVtShaHLfDMlvzlQWCr1z7EYICQr8O5hn0SE3h3Zc3BRjR0cb3odpwxYQUK3XJovBuvIaMpxnA3q-GNk2PldzetqFA/s764/-William_Dyce_-_King_Lear_and_the_Fool_in_the_Storm.%20c1851.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="764" height="502" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim4qbRHKHic2d0gr2-0A3rpQa20yXjuDVckIb9jBjcoqlS4rVdCO5no-DAMqoQWVFf_bqIU9Crz_Z1IQ9kQEVHNgwPCNJwvIdNOVtShaHLfDMlvzlQWCr1z7EYICQr8O5hn0SE3h3Zc3BRjR0cb3odpwxYQUK3XJovBuvIaMpxnA3q-GNk2PldzetqFA/w640-h502/-William_Dyce_-_King_Lear_and_the_Fool_in_the_Storm.%20c1851.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s the Fool’s privilege
to speak the truth with safety. Erasmus, in his 1509 essay <i>The Praise of Folly</i>, places in the mouth of the goddess Folly various
criticisms of society and the church which if he hadn’t been able to pass off
as a brilliant <i>jeu d’esprit </i>(it made
Pope Leo X laugh), might well have got him into trouble. Here he comments on
the folly of even asking (let alone answering) some of the burning questions of
the day.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The primitive disciples were very frequent in administering
the holy sacrament, breaking bread from house to house; yet should they be
asked … the nature of transubstantiation? the possibility of one body being in
several different places at the same time? the difference betwixt the several
aspects of Christ in heaven on the cross, and in the consecrated bread? what
time is required for the transubstantiating of the bread into flesh? how it can
be done by a short sentence pronounced by the priest?<span> </span>Were they asked, I say, these and several
other confused enquiries, I do not believe they could answer so readily as our
mincing school-men now-a-days take pride in doing.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>The
Praise of Folly</i>, Peter Eckler Publishing, NY 1922, p 214.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">These were dangerous
speculations, yet Erasmus could point out with perfect truth that it was not
he, but Folly, who was speaking. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s
not quite safe to laugh at a jester, or a live comedian. We know it’s best not
to sit in the front row; he or she has a mastery of words and is likely to get
the better of us if we cross verbal swords with them. But the jester, dependent
on his nimble wits, is only one type of wise fool. There’s another type of
folly, the folly of the simpleton. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span>Simpletons pose no real danger to the bystander. (If
you’re thinking we’re all too civilised now to laugh at ‘the village idiot’,
stop for a moment to consider what that laughter consisted of.<span> </span>Didn’t it – doesn’t it – consist of finding
ignorance funny? Social ignorance, lack of <i>nous
</i>– ignorance of ‘the way things are done’? Is such laughter dead?) </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span>Unlike real life, in stories simple fools come up
smelling of roses. <i>Jack and the Beanstalk</i>
is the best known example. There are different versions of this old tale, but
in each of them Jack is such a simpleton, such a fool, that he sells his
mother’s cow for a handful of beans which (after his angry mother hurls them
into the garden) grow up to touch the clouds.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As he was going along, he met a butcher, who enquired why he was
driving the cow from home? Jack replied, it was his intention to sell it. The
butcher held some curious beans in his hat; they were of various colours, and
attracted Jack’s notice: this did not pass unnoticed by the butcher, who,
knowing Jack’s easy temper, thought now was the time to take advantage of it,
and … asked what was the price of the cow, offering at the same time all the
beans in his hat for her. The silly boy could not [sufficiently] express his
pleasure at what he supposed so great an offer: the bargain was struck
instantly and the cow exchanged for a few paltry beans.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOD8z-ABbfX5QRb_HoWC0ooEeJ8hlCWcrLYtszKC3AYE7ObZEtblQ1KUCgoZJA333z6Km7r_B3NSnCBfygHtaSWARS9KGQ6r4tdITK3gdXDK8NfLjFPJkwGxUn68yba0QUxpGdkER50mDXA8H4ph4i1I6pAOHoJxn12HuT11rNC0O0KvZPk1de-ZZWxw/s700/Jack_and_the_Beanstalk_TP_and_Frontispiece.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="700" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOD8z-ABbfX5QRb_HoWC0ooEeJ8hlCWcrLYtszKC3AYE7ObZEtblQ1KUCgoZJA333z6Km7r_B3NSnCBfygHtaSWARS9KGQ6r4tdITK3gdXDK8NfLjFPJkwGxUn68yba0QUxpGdkER50mDXA8H4ph4i1I6pAOHoJxn12HuT11rNC0O0KvZPk1de-ZZWxw/w640-h458/Jack_and_the_Beanstalk_TP_and_Frontispiece.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is the first printed
version of the tale, published as ‘<i>The
History of Jack and the Beanstalk</i>’ by Benjamin Tabart in 1807. According to
Iona and Peter Opie in ‘<i>The Classic
Fairytales</i>’ it is ‘the source of all substantial retellings of the story’. It’s
a very literary version which includes a long, dull piece of back-story
intended to show Jack is morally justified in stealing from the Giant, who has previously
murdered Jack’s father. Tabart also explains away Jack’s stupidity in accepting
the beans: it was due to the magical influence of a fairy who wished to benefit
him. Another literary retelling published over eighty years later by Joseph
Jacobs in ‘<i>English Fairy Tales’</i>
similarly attempts to dilute Jack’s folly: on meeting a ‘queer little old man’
who offers him five beans for his cow, Milky-White, Jack replies with sarcasm: “Go
along,” said Jack; “wouldn’t you like it?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span>The old man has to <i>explain
</i>to him that the beans are magic and will ‘grow right up to the sky’ before
Jack will accept the bargain. It’s as though Tabart and Jacobs both found the
traditional Jack too<i> </i>foolish to be an
attractive hero. But his folly is more than half the point, and these literary
additions haven’t survived very well, they haven’t stuck to the story. Most of
us remember Jack as a simpleton who is cheated out of a valuable cow for a
handful of apparently worthless beans. It’s as though the beans gain their
magical properties <i>in response </i>to the
folly of the hero. Ultimately, Jack wins out and the con-man loses. And the
moral lesson is that sharp practice doesn’t always pay, and that good fortune
watches over the innocent and trustful.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span>This is a lesson repeated over and over in
fairytales.<span> </span>It’s nearly always the third
son, the younger, slightly stupid one, whose innocence gives him the edge over
his worldly elder brothers.<span> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There was a man who had three sons, the youngest of whom was
called Dummling [Simpleton], and was despised, mocked and sneered at on every
occasion. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span>It happened
that the eldest wanted to go into the forest to hew wood, and before he went
his mother gave him a beautiful sweet cake and a bottle of wine in order that
he might not suffer from hunger or thirst.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span>When he
entered the forest he met a little grey-haired old man who bade him good-day
and said, ‘Do give me a piece of cake out of your pocket, and let me have a
draught of your wine; I am so hungry and thirsty.’ But the clever son answered,
‘If I give you my cake and wine, I shall have none for myself: be off with
you.’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Is the clever son really
so clever? We know how these things go: not so very clever after all, for – </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When he began to hew down a tree, it was not long before he
made a false stroke, and the axe cut him in the arm, so he had to go home and
have it bound up. And this was the little grey man’s doing.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Soon it’s the second
son’s turn. Characterised as ‘sensible’, he fares no better; and now it is
Dummling’s chance. His mother gives him poor fare: ‘a cake made with water and
baked in the cinders, and a bottle of sour beer’. But, when the little grey man
appears, Dummling readily agrees to share his food:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">and when he pulled out his cinder-cake, it was a fine sweet
cake, and the sour beer had become good wine. So they ate and drank, and after
that the little man said, ‘Since you have a good heart and are willing to
divide what you have, I will give you good luck. There stands an old tree, cut
it down, and you will find something at the roots.’ Then the little old man
took leave of him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span>Dummling
went and cut down the tree, and when it fell there was a goose sitting in the
roots with feathers of pure gold.<span> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You will have guessed the
name of this story: it is the Grimms’ fairy tale ‘<i>The Golden Goose’</i> (KHM 64) – not the goose that lays the golden
eggs, but the one which causes anyone who tries to steal its golden feathers to
stick to it (and to each other) like glue. Dummling soon has a whole train of greedy
people running after him willy-nilly. Those who covet wealth, the story says,
are forced to chase after it, become stuck to it in an undignified straggle. Good-hearted
Dummling, who shares what he has, is worthy to own the golden goose and marry
the King’s daughter. </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhukOHSVR9yIY9Dd5R5EDS2iz9gp2SbpZi2dxXzsLnpJWG388iqIROdtlZBxaQL7sNOIJ2eEJCuUwYrGMFKeUOhxF9mk3ObQy6lDg_t4ZRKLd9qH1HBcE7TQXGaZ74uhjlbbSxsp_tX4tA2MCKtuQltsBez3NyA8GA3IKg6gT1QeGWQ2gB_TJcfbLcJAg/s640/WalterCrane,_HouseholdStories_the%20golden%20goose%201886.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="640" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhukOHSVR9yIY9Dd5R5EDS2iz9gp2SbpZi2dxXzsLnpJWG388iqIROdtlZBxaQL7sNOIJ2eEJCuUwYrGMFKeUOhxF9mk3ObQy6lDg_t4ZRKLd9qH1HBcE7TQXGaZ74uhjlbbSxsp_tX4tA2MCKtuQltsBez3NyA8GA3IKg6gT1QeGWQ2gB_TJcfbLcJAg/w640-h218/WalterCrane,_HouseholdStories_the%20golden%20goose%201886.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> <span> </span>Not all fools in folktales are wise. Stories like the
Grimms’ tale ‘<i>Frederick and Catherine’</i>
(KHM 59), set out simply to amuse the listeners with catalogues of extreme
folly. In this way, even foolish fools may provide object lessons. In <i>‘Frederick and Catherine’</i> simple,
literal Catherine ricochets from one domestic disaster to another.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At midday
home came Frederick:
‘Now wife, what have you ready for me?’ ‘Ah, Freddy,’ she answered, ‘I was
frying a sausage for you, but whilst I was drawing the beer to drink with it,
the dog took it away out of the pan, and whilst I was running after the dog,
all the beer ran out, and whilst I was drying up the beer with the flour, I
knocked over the can as well, but be easy, the cellar is quite dry again.’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In spite of the disasters
she causes, Catherine is always good tempered.<span>
</span>Nothing upsets her, and this is true too of stories such as the Grimms’
tale ‘<i>Hans In Luck’</i> (KHM 89), in
which a young man trades away his years’ wages as he journeys home, delighted
with each bad bargain he makes even when he’s left with nothing but a stone.
The happiness of such characters poses a sly challenge to our own material
values. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span>Some tales involve entire villages full of fools: people
have always enjoyed poking fun at their neighbours, as the old saying
‘Yorkshire born and Yorkshire bred, Strong in the arm and thick in the head’
bears out. (Insert any place-name you like that scans.) Typical of such stories
is this one:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The men of Austwick in Yorkshire
had only one knife between them, so they had a habit of keeping it always under
one tree when it was not in use.<span> </span>If it
was not there when it was wanted, the man needing it called out, ‘Whittle to
the tree!’<span> </span>The plan worked well until
one day a party of labourers took it to a neighbouring moor to cut their bread
and cheese.<span> </span>At the day’s end they
decided to leave the knife there for the next day, and to mark the place where
it lay they stuck it into the ground in the shadow of a great black cloud.<span> </span>But the next day the cloud was gone, and so
was the whittle, and they never saw it again.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">‘Whittle to the Tree’, ‘<i>A
Dictionary of British Folk-tales’</i>, Katherine Briggs, Routledge & Kegan
Paul 1970, Part A, Vol. Two</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At least one tale slyly
suggests there may sometimes be method in this kind of madness. It recounts how
the villagers of Gotham prevented King John
from travelling over their meadows, because they believed any ground over which
a king passed would thereafter become a public road (the king’s highway). The
angry king sends messengers to punish this incivility, but: </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The villagers … thought of an expedient to turn away his
Majesty’s displeasure. … When the messengers arrived at Gotham, they found some
of the inhabitants endeavouring to drown an eel in a pool of water; some were
employed in dragging carts upon a large barn, to shade the wood from the sun;
others were tumbling their cheeses down a hill; … and some were employed in
hedging in a cuckoo… in short, they were all employed in some foolish way or
other, which convinced the king’s servants that it was a village of fools,
whence arose the old adage, ‘the wise men’ or ‘the fools of Gotham’!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">‘The Wise Men of Gotham’, <i>A
Dictionary of British Folk-tales</i>, Katherine Briggs, Routledge & Kegan
Paul 1970, Part A, Vol. Two</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcgBSiqPaJYGli34AOpvdHBtx6JfT2y3_YXXSlmdslNbz-ETOE6vcnrnRt4vfnE10-2O_BS9WhxYC2PWdM_tm8PfPanhwwrLZXYhkNJ2AxnCHG2RvZrKuN1R-rbIzwQaKOMRHsqhTgbaaND9hROyIYl4r9Kaw3jmY7TiLp1DYbld_UAeh4k7kBxxT3Q/s472/merry-tales-gotham-fools.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="289" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcgBSiqPaJYGli34AOpvdHBtx6JfT2y3_YXXSlmdslNbz-ETOE6vcnrnRt4vfnE10-2O_BS9WhxYC2PWdM_tm8PfPanhwwrLZXYhkNJ2AxnCHG2RvZrKuN1R-rbIzwQaKOMRHsqhTgbaaND9hROyIYl4r9Kaw3jmY7TiLp1DYbld_UAeh4k7kBxxT3Q/w392-h640/merry-tales-gotham-fools.jpg" width="392" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Folly may be wisdom,
cloaked. This story, as so often with stories about fools, asks us to dig
deeper, not to accept things at face value. In the following exchange,
Shakepeare’s fool Feste demonstrates the folly of his mistress the Lady Olivia:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Feste:<span> </span><span> </span>Good madonna, why mournest thou?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Olivia:<span> </span>Good fool, for
my brother’s death.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Feste: <span> </span>I think his
soul is in hell, madonna.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Olivia: I know his soul is in heaven, fool.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Feste:<span> </span>The more fool,
madonna, to mourn for your brother’s soul, being in heaven. Take away the fool,
gentlemen.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Twelfth
Night, I,v</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By this neat Socratic
sleight-of-hand Feste demonstrates the limitations of both philosophy and
religion, applied to the human condition. For we know very well how quickly such
structures can crumble under the shockwave of grief. As a believing Christian,
Olivia ought not to mourn her brother who is now in heaven. If she followed the
logic of the <i>elenchos, </i>she should
rejoice. But grief doesn’t work like that and Feste knows it. On the other
hand, almost a year after her brother’s death perhaps it <i>is </i>time Olivia was teased out of what threatens literally to become
a habit of over-the-top mourning:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The element itself till seven years heat</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Shall not behold her face at ample view,</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But like a cloistress she will veiled walk</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And water once a day her chamber round</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">With eye-offending brine.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Twelfth
Night, I.i</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What Feste begins with
his fool’s wisdom, his logical-illogical wisecracking, is a process that will
eventually release Olivia from her shroud of grief. She will fall in love, and
life will go on.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span>‘We are fools for Christ’s sake,’ says St Paul (1
Corinthians 4:10), and again: ‘For the message of the cross is foolishness to
those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.’
(1 Corinthians 1:18).<span> </span>Perhaps this
echoes Christ’s message ‘Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid
them not: for of such is the kingdom
of God.<span> </span>Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not
enter heaven.’ (Mark 10:14,15).
As jesters resemble children in their undeceived clear-sightedness, so
simpletons resemble children in their simplicity and innocence.<span> </span>Many of the stories in <i>‘The Little Flowers of Saint Francis of Assissi’</i>, a compilation of
oral tales about the Franciscans, feature one Brother Juniper, a complete clown
who might have walked straight out of a story like the ‘<i>Wise Men of Gotham’</i> or ‘<i>Frederick
and Catherine’.</i> Like Catherine he is utterly literal in his responses to
requests and commands ... to an extent that is truly unsettling.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Once when he was visiting a sick brother at St Mary of the
Angels he said to him all on fire with the charity of God, ‘Can I do thee any
service?’ And the sick man answered, ‘Thou wouldst give me great consolation if
thou couldst get me a pig’s foot to eat.’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Brother Juniper hurries
into the forest with a knife, finds a herd of swine, cuts off a foot from one
of them and runs back to prepare and cook it for the sick man. The angry swineherd
follows and complains of his action to St Francis, who berates Brother Juniper:
‘Wherefore hast thou given this great scandal?’ </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At these words Brother Juniper was much amazed, wondering
that anyone should have been angered at so charitable an action, for all
temporal things appeared to him of no value, save in so far as they could be
charitably applied to the service of our neighbour. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>The Little Flowers of Saint Francis of
Assissi</i>, tr. Lady Georgina Fullerton, 1864</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We miss the point if our
only response is to wince on behalf of the pig. The Franciscan view of animals
was a religious not a sentimental one, and animal rights lay a long, long way
in the future. Whoever wrote this fable down fully expects the contemporary
reader to regard Brother Juniper’s action as great folly (you don’t mutilate
live pigs) and to understand St Francis’s anger. And <i>yet </i>we are asked to see his folly as saintly, to put aside our
usual habits and enter a mindset which quite simply views all things, <i>everything – </i>as belonging already to
God. ‘He would be a good Friar,’ said St Francis, ‘who had overcome the world
as perfectly as Brother Juniper’. Brother Juniper’s single-minded concentration
on God is at once ridiculous, frightening – and holy. Fools and saints <i>are</i> a bit frightening. They don’t
operate by the normal rules. When we look at their actions we are sometimes
startled into questioning our own. And that has been the purpose of fools down the
ages – holding up the glass of folly to reflect back the image of what we
thought was wisdom. Are you a fool? Am I?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lear: Dost thou call me a fool, boy?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fool: All thy other titles thou hast given away. That, thou
wast born with. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>King
Lear, I, iv</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJcMx4ZJGMdv77aMGoTemJ4hVC6f2jfs0DqJbmmbgOCerq4WZAUkWkSfF7RFviV89XqlkUWSgei4eJrbM9rR1fWRrJ1CpwcDWXyqlAN-yowXCJpmMBYRD9J4nA3CKqttBymhvZGL3v6J_E2m_N6WOtEe7dHyLDeY721xqwlVLuLVeOvXu1G0RU6VIo5A/s1251/Jean_Fouquet-_Portrait_of_the_Ferrara_Court_Jester_Gonella%201445.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1251" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJcMx4ZJGMdv77aMGoTemJ4hVC6f2jfs0DqJbmmbgOCerq4WZAUkWkSfF7RFviV89XqlkUWSgei4eJrbM9rR1fWRrJ1CpwcDWXyqlAN-yowXCJpmMBYRD9J4nA3CKqttBymhvZGL3v6J_E2m_N6WOtEe7dHyLDeY721xqwlVLuLVeOvXu1G0RU6VIo5A/w410-h640/Jean_Fouquet-_Portrait_of_the_Ferrara_Court_Jester_Gonella%201445.JPG" width="410" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">[This essay, and others on fairy tales and folklore, can be found in my book: 'Seven Miles of Steel Thistles' <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0953SFZ4X/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p1_i5">available on Amazon at this link</a>.] <br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><u>Picture credits</u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Laughing jester, c 1500, possibly Jacob Cornelisz. van Oostanen <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jester#/media/File:Laughing_Fool.jpg">wikipedia</a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Miniature of David and his fool, from the psalter of Henry VIII (likenesses of Henry himself and, probably, Will Summers). <a href="https://blogs.bl.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2016/03/fools-paradise.html">British Library</a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;">King Lear and his Fool in the Storm, William Dyce, c 1851 <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:William_Dyce_-_King_Lear_and_the_Fool_in_the_Storm.jpg">wikipedia </a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jack and the Beanstalk, 1807 frontispiece <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jack_and_the_Beanstalk_TP_and_Frontispiece.jpg">wikimedia commons </a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Golden Goose, Walter Crane, 1886 <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:WalterCrane,_HouseholdStories_-_294.jpg">wikimedia commons</a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Mad-Men of Gotham: 16th C. chapbook</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Portrait of the Ferrara court jester Gonella, Jean Fouqet 1445 <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jester#/media/File:Jean_Fouquet-_Portrait_of_the_Ferrara_Court_Jester_Gonella.JPG">wikipedia</a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><br /></p>
<p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-65234503056615979432023-03-27T03:04:00.000-07:002023-03-27T03:04:01.123-07:00Fenrir's Fetter and the Power of Stories<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVdulii_-MbWlLj-ubOsXc_MjulECG00AzJ2RHXsFId6a74fQKYqxl8fpj3f34zVBzhJYIQ9lgzlmFXV5L9YexKzezn7BqXl5hhjWqJjB2WRXbis1Mm3xS9c9SB6ggJxtVZcCGStbXlZ05FDYMIghqk_N15buHanNU6CSzSac0kNH-oL4do5676BKcYQ/s1600/1%20binding-Fenrir.webp" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1107" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVdulii_-MbWlLj-ubOsXc_MjulECG00AzJ2RHXsFId6a74fQKYqxl8fpj3f34zVBzhJYIQ9lgzlmFXV5L9YexKzezn7BqXl5hhjWqJjB2WRXbis1Mm3xS9c9SB6ggJxtVZcCGStbXlZ05FDYMIghqk_N15buHanNU6CSzSac0kNH-oL4do5676BKcYQ/w442-h640/1%20binding-Fenrir.webp" width="442" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:RelyOnVML/>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" Name="footnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" Name="footnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0cm;
mso-para-margin-right:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0cm;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">‘The Binding of Fenris’, ill. Dorothy Hardy</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
<o:TargetScreenSize>1024x768</o:TargetScreenSize>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">This
is the full text of the Katharine Briggs Memorial Lecture as I gave it to the Folklore
Society on 8th November 2022. If you would prefer to watch, there’s a link at the bottom to the Youtube recording
of the event made by the Folklore Society. To everyone of whom, my thanks.<br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></b></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
<o:TargetScreenSize>1024x768</o:TargetScreenSize>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" Name="footnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" Name="footnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I am honoured to
be speaking to you today, and not a little daunted when I think of the many eminent
scholars who’ve given the Katharine Briggs Lecture before me. I am not an academic.
However, I have loved folk- and fairy tales since I was a child and I’ve been
writing and telling stories for most of my life, so when I received the
Folklore Society’s invitation I knew I wanted to talk about the power stories
have, for both good and ill, and about the different kinds of belief with which
we approach them. So this evening I shall be talking about the gruesome tales
children tell each other at sleepovers, about legends and fairy tales, and
about those stories handed down in families, communities and nations which
confer a sense of common identity and pride – sometimes at the cost of
excluding others. </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The
Prose Edda tells of the wolf Fenrir, one of Loki’s three monstrous children by
a giantess. Knowing that Fenrir was fated to harm them, the gods bound him with
an iron fetter, pretending it was a game to try his strength. Fenrir snapped it
easily, and he broke the next one they made, too, though it was twice as thick.
Then the gods sent down to the home of the dark elves, where the dwarfs forged
a fetter from mysterious, invisible, impalpable things: the footfall of a cat,
a woman’s beard, the roots of a mountain, the breath of a fish, the spittle of
a bird. It looked harmless – as smooth and soft as a silken ribbon, but Fenrir
suspected a trick. He would not allow himself to be bound with it until Tyr
agreed to place his right hand between the wolf’s jaws as a pledge of good
faith. Tyr lost his hand, but for all his struggles Fenrir could not break the
silken fetter. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Once
upon a time, all stories existed only in the imaginations of those who told and
heard them. Now stories are written down and printed in books, but a book is
not a story. It’s just a container. If there are any stories in the Minoan
script Linear A, they do not exist for us and never will, unless someone
manages to decode and release them. Stories are words made of air, syllables on
the lips, communications between minds: as invisible and impalpable as the
things the dwarfs wrought into Fenrir’s fetter – and as strong. </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">In
his essay ‘On Fairy-Stories’ JRR Tolkien says, ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Spell</i> means both a story told, and a formula of power over living
men.’<a href="#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a>
It is we who give stories this power, we enspell ourselves: when we read or
hear a story it becomes in some sense ‘real’ for us: we believe it. ‘In some
sense’: belief is a sliding scale. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Coleridge
in his <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Biographia Literaria</i> defends
the ‘supernatural, or at least romantic’ character of his poetry by explaining
his intention to ‘transfer from our inward nature a human interest and a
semblance of truth sufficient to procure for these shadows of the imagination that
willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic
faith.’ As Coleridge tells it then, ‘suspension of disbelief’ is the conscious
action he calls ‘poetic faith’: a surrender to story on the understanding that
although it is fiction, within its parameters it can tell important truths. And
this surrender is or should be temporary: that’s what he means by ‘suspension
of disbelief <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">for the moment</i>.’ Tolkien
says something not dissimilar: he claims that the story-maker creates a
Secondary World ‘which your mind can enter. You therefore believe it, while you
are, as it were, inside.’<a href="#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Yet
why should Coleridge feel the need to articulate a formula for enjoying stories,
an activity which most people find easy as breathing? I suggest, because he was
a child of the Enlightenment who assumes in his educated audience a rational
scepticism towards the supernatural which he, and they, must work to overcome. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwZPkCOw3RY4TGNBaUHyr5hV46xaBGxz6P6ltdB9iL8HdxmVXPjC_S6qhQtNV-U7B0v9XDelRXRhtaRVdOY3NVVXUSdCtQ40c8_rTg6yQ89z0r6NpmdpsvAen15qI2WXi7Ckj9FuYkayFmPAyLzvN1aQIfNzvK0DKROyvmRyeT7SGlrTRJwC8JKoYgw/s1093/2%20Childe_Rowland.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1093" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwZPkCOw3RY4TGNBaUHyr5hV46xaBGxz6P6ltdB9iL8HdxmVXPjC_S6qhQtNV-U7B0v9XDelRXRhtaRVdOY3NVVXUSdCtQ40c8_rTg6yQ89z0r6NpmdpsvAen15qI2WXi7Ckj9FuYkayFmPAyLzvN1aQIfNzvK0DKROyvmRyeT7SGlrTRJwC8JKoYgw/w469-h640/2%20Childe_Rowland.jpg" width="469" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:RelyOnVML/>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" Name="footnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" Name="footnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0cm;
mso-para-margin-right:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0cm;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Childe Rowland: ill. John Batten</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b></div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="color: red; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Coleridge’s
contemporary, the antiquary Robert Jamieson, recounted how as a child, he was
told the story-ballad of Childe Rowland by ‘a country tailor’ whom he
patronisingly describes as ‘an ignorant and dull, good sort of man, who seemed
never to have questioned the truth of what he related.’<a href="#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[3]</span></span></span></span></a>
His assumption of the man’s credulity <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">may</i>
have been correct but seems unlikely given the fantastic nature of the tale,
and I wonder whether Jamieson could differentiate, aged seven, between a tale
told with conviction and one told as truth? But given the inference that belief
in fantastic stories was for the lower classes, Coleridge’s ‘suspension of
disbelief’ allowed sophisticated readers to engage with a poem like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Rime of the Ancient Mariner</i> without
feeling foolish. Cue: the Romantic period. <u><span style="color: red;"></span></u></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">We
may disbelieve in a story if it’s badly told (when it’s the storyteller’s
fault) or if we are out of sympathy with the subject (when it is our fault),
but to fully experience a story we must come to it as little children are said
to come to the Kingdom of Heaven – with openness and trust. With belief in
fact, belief that comes with risks unless at the end of the story the reader or
listener can disengage from it. This is important. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Both
Coleridge and Tolkien seem to suppose that when the story ends you are out of
it – back in the real world, snap! – that disengagment from belief is
automatic. But I am not so sure. Aged nine or ten, my daughters would sometimes
go to sleepovers – particularly at Halloween – where the children would swap
stories, scary ones, including some really gruesome urban legends. There was
one of a murderous doll which climbs the stairs, calling to the cowering child
above, ‘So-and-So, I’m on the first step! So-and-So, I’m on the second step!’ (A
version of this was published in 1897 with an anxious note by the collector<a href="#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn4;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[4]</span></span></span></span></a>:
‘It is hoped that this tale will not be reprinted in any book intended for
children.’) There was the babysitter who answers the phone to a strange voice
chanting, ‘Go check on the children! Go check on the children!’ and when she
does there’s blood on the children’s pillows and a murderer hiding in their
parents’ bed. And there was one with a serial-killer-clown whose grotesque,
painted face peeps through the window at night. Maybe these tales were
enjoyable in the context of a cosy bedroom full of other kids, with treats and
drinks and fairy-lights – but for the next few nights at home there would be
the patter of feet on the stairs and a distressed little voice crying, ‘I can’t
get to sleep! I can’t help thinking about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that
story</i>...’ </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It
is no earthly use saying to a terrified child, ‘Don’t be silly, it was only a
story.’ That is no comfort at all. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Only</i>
a story? Children know what adults often fail to realise: a story is one of the
strongest things there is. Indeed it’s not only children who sometimes find
belief lingering uncomfortably beyond the end of a tale. Who hasn’t felt that
prickle between the shoulderblades on finishing a ghost story rather too late
at night? </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The
only thing powerful enough to counteract a story – is another story. I would sit
down with my children and retell these tales, inventing banal explanations for
the scary bits, to neutralise them. The doll on the stairs didn’t mean any
harm. It was proud of having learned to climb them, and only wanted the little
girl in the bedroom to know how high it could get! The caller who says ‘Go
check on the children’ is their dad calling from the restaurant because he
knows his kids are liable to misbehave. So the kids are listening from the top
of the stairs, and when the babysitter comes up, they’ve squirted ketchup on
the pillows to scare her and piled into their parents’ bed to hide. And the
clown who peers through the windows? He’s not a murderer! He’s scared and lost
and lonely. He fell out of the moving caravan and knocked himself out, and he’s
just trying to catch up with his friends in the circus. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I
promise you, this works when nothing else does. Once I had retold any of these
stories it lost its power: the children were never frightened by it again. But
you have to do it with complete confidence, with certainty. Tolkien is right:
the storyteller casts a spell and stories are powerful magic. In remaking the
scary stories I remade that world into a safe, ordinary one. I used magic to
fight magic. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">We
believe stories differently according to how closely or not they seem to adhere
to real life. Urban myths about murderers and clowns frighten children because
clowns and murderers really exist, so the horrible things in the story might
happen to them. They are not often frightened by giants or dragons. About
ghosts, though, the jury is out. Plenty of adults believe in them, at least
part of the time, and if a trusted friend tells us they have seen a ghost, what
do we do? What we often do is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">withhold </i>disbelief
– which is not the same thing as Coleridge’s ‘suspension’. We suspend disbelief
in stories we know to be fiction. Withholding disbelief is what we do when
we’re <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not sure</i>, when we don’t know
what to think. The boundary between reality and unreality is porous, or people
wouldn’t send Christmas cards to characters in soap operas (though perhaps from
a desire to share in that world, rather than from naïvety). We live, far more
than we realise, in our imaginations.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxIJOFPCBXUSKx58Wbjfr5GeO3CDe_pRnBZf_xbHnzulcUHTJyVyvpTrq6eEeTcML4ohDf39hAhy1Wmq-cnNjZ2r4W2SlGPWyy-vvi0B_5ODYcnrmPubW77lpOCuk-YH3ri-ea1iR4c5cuGA70iomhvNlpEqrmWAShLBTRcMuQcTIuY2_8ly6vRVCn8w/s825/3%20Fairy%20Mythology.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="732" data-original-width="825" height="568" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxIJOFPCBXUSKx58Wbjfr5GeO3CDe_pRnBZf_xbHnzulcUHTJyVyvpTrq6eEeTcML4ohDf39hAhy1Wmq-cnNjZ2r4W2SlGPWyy-vvi0B_5ODYcnrmPubW77lpOCuk-YH3ri-ea1iR4c5cuGA70iomhvNlpEqrmWAShLBTRcMuQcTIuY2_8ly6vRVCn8w/w640-h568/3%20Fairy%20Mythology.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frontispiece: The Fairy Mythology: ill. George Cruickshank <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b></div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="color: red; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A
tale recorded in Thomas Keightley’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Fairy Mythology</i> of 1828 illustrates our reluctance to disbelieve a tale
told by somebody we know, and I suspect it’s also an early example of my own
strategy for soothing frightened children. Keightley calls it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Addlers and Menters</i><a href="#_ftn5" name="_ftnref5" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn5;" title=""><sup><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><sup><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[5]</span></sup></span></sup></a>. The tale is narrated by two
different voices. <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">An
old lady in Yorkshire related as follows:– My eldest daughter Betsey was about
four years old; I remember it was on a fine summer’s afternoon, or rather
evening, I was seated in this chair which I now occupy. The child had been in
the garden, she came into that entry or passage from the kitchen (on the right
side of the entry was the old parlour-door, on the left the door of the common
sitting-room; the mother of the child was in a line with both doors); the
child, instead of turning towards the sitting room made a pause at the
parlour-door, which was open. She stood several minutes quite still; at last I
saw her draw her hand quickly towards her body; she set up a loud shriek and
ran, or rather flew, to me crying out “Oh! Mammy, green man will hab me! green
man will hab me!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It
was a long time before I could pacify her; I then asked her why she was so
frightened. “O Mammy,” said she, “all t’parlour is full of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">addlers</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">menters</i>.”
Elves and fairies I suppose she meant. She said they were dancing, and a little
man in a green coat with a gold-laced cocked hat on his head, offered to take
her hand as if he would have her as his partner in the dance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The
mother, upon hearing this, went and looked into the old parlour, but the fairy
vision had melted into thin air. </span><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
<o:TargetScreenSize>1024x768</o:TargetScreenSize>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Such,”
adds the narrator, “is the account I heard of this vision of fairies. The
person is still alive who witnessed or supposed she saw it, and though a
well-informed person, still positively asserts the relation to be strictly true.”
*</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> [Here
Thomas Keightley adds an asterisk which leads to a cautious,<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>sceptical footnote]:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>*And
true no doubt it is: ie: the impression made on her imagination was as strong
as if the objects had been actually before her.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></u></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Clearly
Keightley didn’t believe the child really saw a fairy. But it wasn’t his story.
He found it in a letter printed in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Literary Gazette and Journal of Belles Lettres, Arts, Sciences </i>of 16<sup>th</sup>
April1825. The anonymous correspondent had been reading Thomas Crofton Croker’s
recently published <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fairy Legends and
Traditions of the South of Ireland</i>, and wrote: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mr
Croker... says that fairies have not been seen for many years in the North of
England. I can inform him, if not in the memory of man, they have been seen in
the memory of woman, in a village in the East Riding of Yorkshire. A
respectable female, who is nearly [ie: closely] related to the writer of this,
and who is now alive, beheld, when she was a little girl, a troop of fairies
“deftly footing a roundel daunce” in her mother’s large old wainscoted parlour…
I have frequently heard it related by her venerable mother, and subsequently by
herself.<a href="#_ftn6" name="_ftnref6" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn6;" title=""><sup><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><sup><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[6]</span></sup></span></sup></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">This
was a family story, told first-hand. The little girl’s pause by the parlour
door, the sharply observed gesture of ‘drawing her hand quickly towards her
body’ and her terrified shriek, suggest a genuine experience, if only a
frightening waking dream. We can be pretty sure that whatever little Betsey
thought she saw, the words given to her are exactly what she said. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘Addlers and menters’</i>? Even her mother
wasn’t sure what it meant. ‘Oh mammy, green man will hab me, green man will hab
me!’ That sounds true too. But the civilized little man in green coat and
gold-laced hat who invites the child to dance is hardly convincing as the source
of such childish terror. </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEfowjx7hP2bJJkyFcZQVy1gVBMehOwABI7W4STtvT2x6EbJb_Xh9nhnRjM5X-DRn3h5OqMrmYRB6w4LgxaUQQ648uDg8RrEW2nobAaa3VBFbXzcb1ECGqrCtKAuxM7gWn5j0iy0kVASQCNLRv7ONKCLR-WEbcr4UqkZQ7_zeYXMbsUSXALjB_ywj5sg/s599/4%20Joseph_Wright_of_Derby_-_Portrait_of_a_Gentleman_-1755-65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="497" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEfowjx7hP2bJJkyFcZQVy1gVBMehOwABI7W4STtvT2x6EbJb_Xh9nhnRjM5X-DRn3h5OqMrmYRB6w4LgxaUQQ648uDg8RrEW2nobAaa3VBFbXzcb1ECGqrCtKAuxM7gWn5j0iy0kVASQCNLRv7ONKCLR-WEbcr4UqkZQ7_zeYXMbsUSXALjB_ywj5sg/w333-h400/4%20Joseph_Wright_of_Derby_-_Portrait_of_a_Gentleman_-1755-65.jpg" width="333" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portrait of a Gentleman’, Joseph Wright c 1760</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Gold laced cocked hats were high fashion
in the first quarter of the eighteenth century, came briefly back in the 1770s,
and vanished at the start of the French revolution in 1789. We do not know
Betsey’s age in 1825, the date of the letter; she may have been middle-aged or
more, but as a four year-old in an East Riding village would she even have seen
such a hat – still less been able to describe it? You can hear the uncertainty
in the letter-writer’s voice: he knows this lady, she’s positive about what she
saw, and her mother witnessed her reaction to the event. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Something</i> happened. He can’t quite <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">believe</i> it – but he withholds his disbelief. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Whatever it was that scared Betsey, I
can’t help thinking her mother invented the courtly little man to make it less
terrifying, as I did for my children. ‘A green man, darling? Oh, a lovely
little fairy man in a gold-laced hat! He didn’t mean to frighten you. He only
wanted to ask you to dance!’ And such is the power of motherly suggestion, the
child soon agrees that’s what she saw. This ‘explanation’ transforms a moment
of fright into a more comfortable yet fascinating <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">story</i>, and ‘the time Betsey saw fairies dancing’ becomes a bit of
family history that evokes pride and even wonder. </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; text-indent: 36pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHrITkVo5xGPBVuf7X1OgYBLCpDnza9aiDmb2W6eZqqP1HpwINKDZhZeQBL4HtUDmLPlaHUiu-1d4VKQrkpIGuTjgyceFo7T6lZmQWMntB8pNbpEf31DznqeP3U-T3QNBbxvEQ87O99I41vnUV0G1JAa9sdxs9j8kVcQROoSamdJkR5JV3O0bNykZaw/s1195/5%20Helena%20Beatrice%20Davies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1195" data-original-width="805" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHrITkVo5xGPBVuf7X1OgYBLCpDnza9aiDmb2W6eZqqP1HpwINKDZhZeQBL4HtUDmLPlaHUiu-1d4VKQrkpIGuTjgyceFo7T6lZmQWMntB8pNbpEf31DznqeP3U-T3QNBbxvEQ87O99I41vnUV0G1JAa9sdxs9j8kVcQROoSamdJkR5JV3O0bNykZaw/w432-h640/5%20Helena%20Beatrice%20Davies.jpg" width="432" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family photo: author's possession<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">This is my grandmother, Helena Beatrice
Langrish, born into a British army family in India, in 1886. She was a great
raconteur, and many of her stories involved men whose attentions she had to evade
or fight off; these invariably emphasised her attractiveness and courage. She
told one about four soldiers who surrounded her as she walked home from playing
tennis: ‘They never said a word – they just looked at me. All I had with me was
my tennis racket, Katherine!’ When an appeal to their honour failed – ‘You’re
British soldiers! You wouldn’t hurt a woman!’ – she turned to threats: ‘I shall
tell the colonel of you!’ – ‘They fled, Katherine! They fled!’ Left at that,
this would be little more than an anecdote, but the tale continues to a
punchline. The colonel, to whom she had indeed complained, paraded the
battalion and lectured them on proper behaviour to women, after which he
privately told her: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“You’re a very lucky woman, Mrs Langrish. Those men who
accosted you”.... drumroll ... “were all gaolbirds!” And she would repeat, face
vivid with the drama of it all, “All gaolbirds, Katherine!” <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> Like
the ‘explanatory’ ending of Betsey’s tale, this coda in which my grandmother
discovers the narrowness of her escape transforms a genuine yet brief scare
into a memorable story. And do I believe it? There’s nothing obvious to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">dis</i>believe, so yes, mostly... but like
Betsey’s, stories grow in the telling. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Belief is not an ‘on or off’ binary
affair, but a whole spectrum. Stith Thompson has placed ‘the wonder story like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Dragon Slayer</i> or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Faithful John</i> at one extreme of folk
tradition and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">actual beliefs</i> in
various supernatural manifestations at the other’. And he adds: ‘sharp lines
are hard to draw [...] All depends upon the attitude of hearer and teller.’<a href="#_ftn7" name="_ftnref7" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn7;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[7]</span></span></span></span></a> <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-hyphenate: none; text-autospace: ideograph-other; vertical-align: baseline;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Like
family stories and ‘true’ ghost stories, local legends are located in the real
world – with temporal and spatial reference points. They attract <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">varying</i> degrees of belief. The Cow and
Calf Rocks on Ilkley Moor are said to have been dropped there by a giant called
Rumbald, but I doubt anyone ever believed it, any more than they’d believe the
moon is made of green cheese. People aren’t fools. The many comic folktales in
which the devil comes off worst, as when St Dunstan pinches his nose with red-hot
tongs, were surely always entertainment: but a scare-story of demonic
apparitions in your own neighbourhood might be taken differently. </span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBFICcjZvIb2qli79d0noOZlqtKKvzLQpvfzdfiB3TZJOJjbfQ-xuIbi_JIUz_1KYi-H5pQ3PFtwY3_fCsdQn59DnYZCwZV0wdyAfErYo_LDQfqE8teL6mzBQYNFucsHoDrvNZiEV5XakfhvLj9X9HVVCfefBf6zqAAJpSLtHRh9O8xn6qdvHN7Gtxg/s1115/7%20Wild%20Hunt.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1115" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBFICcjZvIb2qli79d0noOZlqtKKvzLQpvfzdfiB3TZJOJjbfQ-xuIbi_JIUz_1KYi-H5pQ3PFtwY3_fCsdQn59DnYZCwZV0wdyAfErYo_LDQfqE8teL6mzBQYNFucsHoDrvNZiEV5XakfhvLj9X9HVVCfefBf6zqAAJpSLtHRh9O8xn6qdvHN7Gtxg/w640-h432/7%20Wild%20Hunt.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:RelyOnVML/>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" Name="footnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" Name="footnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0cm;
mso-para-margin-right:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0cm;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Detail: ‘Die Wilde Jagd' (anon) in 'Der Orchideengarten' 1920<br /></span><pre style="margin-left: 52.85pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -45.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></pre></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The Peterborough
manuscript of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle tells of the appearance on February 6<sup>th</sup>
1127 of what we generally call the Wild Hunt: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Many people saw and heard many hunters hunting. The
hunters were black and big and loathsome, and their hounds all black and
wide-eyed and loathsome, and they rode on black horses and black goats. This
was seen in the very deer-park in the town of Peterborough, and in all the
woods ... between this town and Stamford, and the monks heard the horns blow
that they were blowing at night.<a href="#_ftn8" name="_ftnref8" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn8;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[8]</span></span></span></span></a>
</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> The existence of
a terrifying devil was church orthodoxy, and people may well have believed this.
All the same, the appearance of the hellish hunters coincided with the arrival
of a new, unpopular abbot who’d been foisted upon the monastery by Henry I. Supernatural
or not, the event was used as propaganda to discredit the abbot. It’s always a
good idea to ask who is telling the story, and why. <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">There
are strange tales without an obvious purpose. That of the Green Children, said
to have occurred in the reign of King Stephen, was recorded independently by
William of Newburgh and Ralph of Coggeshall and still arouses curiosity. Two
green children were found near Woolpit in Suffolk. They spoke an unknown
language, ate nothing but beans, and later claimed to have come from an
underground land suffused with a pale, unearthly light. Katharine Briggs
remarked that the tale had ‘a curiously convincing and detailed air’<a href="#_ftn9" name="_ftnref9" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn9;" title=""><sup><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><sup><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[9]</span></sup></span></sup></a>, and
modern commentators have found explanations ranging from ‘folk tale motif’, to
‘green skin caused by chlorosis or arsenical poisoning’ to ‘extraterrestrials’.
The story is intriguing; people <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want</i>
to believe it – and exert themselves to find ways of doing so. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Devils
are hard to believe in these days, but there are still people who claim to have
seen fairies<a href="#_ftn10" name="_ftnref10" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn10;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[10]</span></span></span></span></a>,
while ghosts are evergreen. An article from July 2019 on the website ‘Kent
Live’ reports a haunting on the </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">A229 Blue Bell Hill road ‘with
many motorists claiming to have seen a young bride waiting by the roadside. It
is believed this ghost is that of 22-year-old bride Suzanne Browne, who was
killed with two friends in a road traffic accident on the eve of her wedding on
November 19, 1965.’ The details sound convincing. But in </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">October
2020 the website ‘Wales Online’ ran a feature about </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">the same
stretch of road which repeats the </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">story, but it’s now
‘Judith Langham, a young bride-to-be killed in a car collision on the day of
her wedding’ who haunts the road. Those apparently specific details aren’t as
anchored in fact as they seem. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXjceZDr6ecXHLRNssTWDH1Av7KNVMeKWVZJPUQ5_QD5wwbfTnjjv5hvuGqzgihNS3jauUdHCPdeO4gmcqLeLObxuQgwEkhaAbMQiIGER6Ncnd78QrrsqYU5Gz7phP1SCeF-5unWsrZkdBdkEXNv2W7QeEdQd9OhMWWy4H1Wxghqoi7pemUdT3xpJ_g/s1020/9%20Lord%20Raglan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="786" data-original-width="1020" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXjceZDr6ecXHLRNssTWDH1Av7KNVMeKWVZJPUQ5_QD5wwbfTnjjv5hvuGqzgihNS3jauUdHCPdeO4gmcqLeLObxuQgwEkhaAbMQiIGER6Ncnd78QrrsqYU5Gz7phP1SCeF-5unWsrZkdBdkEXNv2W7QeEdQd9OhMWWy4H1Wxghqoi7pemUdT3xpJ_g/s320/9%20Lord%20Raglan.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lord Raglan (wikipedia)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">This
rather grim-looking gentleman is Fitzroy Richard Somerset, 4th Lord Raglan, president
of the Folklore Society from 1945-47. In his 1930s book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Hero: A Study in Tradition, Myth and Drama</i>, he provides a
delightful account of the stages by which a legend may grow from little acorn
to great oak. <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Stage
1:</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">
This house dates from Elizabethan times, and since it lies close to the road
which the Virgin Queen must have taken when travelling from X to Y, it may well
have been visited by her.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Stage
2:</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">
This house is said to have been visited by Queen Elizabeth on her way from X to
Y.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Stage
3:</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">
The state bedroom is over the entrance. It is this room which Queen Elizabeth
probably occupied when she broke her journey here on her way from X to Y.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Stage
4:</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">
According to local tradition, the truth of which there is no reason to doubt,
the bed in the room over the entrance is that in which Queen Elizabeth slept
when she stayed here on her way from X to Y. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="#_ftn11" name="_ftnref11" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn11;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[11]</span></span></span></span></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">This is shrewd
and funny. But such a story is going to be hard to kill in any individual case,
because the Queen undoubtedly did spend the night in a great many different
English country houses, and absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. The
owner of the house, who takes pride in the story, is not going to listen to
Lord Raglan casting cold water. Again it’s about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wanting</i> to believe. Pride trumps history. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Raglan
was a hard-liner about folk tales. He didn’t think they preserved any
historical information at all, which isn’t surprising when you read his
definition of history: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The recital in
chronological sequence of events which are known to have occurred.</i> Insisting
that history depends entirely on written chronology, he claimed that since what
he termed ‘the savage’ cannot write, ‘the savage can have no interest in
history.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">When we read of the Irish blacksmith who said that
his smithy was much older than the local dolmen … we are apt to suppose the
speaker exceptionally stupid or ignorant, but [his] attitude towards the past is
similar to that of the Australian black <i>[sic]</i> who began a story with: ‘Long
long ago, when my mother was a baby, the sun shone all day and all night’, <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and is the inevitable result of illiteracy.</span>
<a href="#_ftn12" name="_ftnref12" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn12;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[12]</span></span></span></span></a> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Raglan’s contemptuous
tone does him no credit; and he makes a category error: the Indigenous
Australian storyteller is using an opening formula found all over the world,
that places a traditional narrative far away and long ago: ‘Once upon a time’
and the tale, published in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Folklore</i>
in September 1934, is an origin myth, a just-so story to explain solar
eclipses. It tells of a golden age when everyone was happy and ‘the sun shone
all day and all night’- as it would, in the golden age! Alas, some people became
lazy and quarrelsome, upon which the sun and moon descended and split the earth
in two, leaving the happy people on one side and the discontented ones – us! –
on the other. When the happy people want to see what we are doing, they tip the
sun on its side and crowd to look down on us, covering the sun and making it
dark. I see no essential difference between this, and Hesiod’s account of the
golden, silver and bronze ages of mankind, but I doubt Raglan would have sneered
at Hesiod. <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Compare
that opening sentence with one from a Romanian fairy tale: ‘Once upon a time,
far far away, as far as the spot where the Devil weaned his children...’<a href="#_ftn13" name="_ftnref13" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn13;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[13]</span></span></span></span></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Or
one heard around 1860 by Henry Mayhew from a seventeen year-old lad in a London
workhouse: ‘Once upon a time, and very good time it was, though it was neither
in your time, nor my time, nor nobody else’s time...’<a href="#_ftn14" name="_ftnref14" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn14;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[14]</span></span></span></span></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Or even this: <span style="color: red;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">‘A long time ago</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">, in a galaxy far, far away…’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Such openings
are not naïve. The storyteller knows very well there never <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i> a time when the sun shone all day and night. The concept is
deliberately surreal. Origin myths are not to be taken literally: they are
fables to provoke thought and wonder. As for fairy tales, they openly flaunt
their unbelievability. S</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">helves full of books have been written to prove or
disprove the historicity of King Arthur or Robin Hood, but n</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">o
one has ever asked if the story of Cinderella really happened, or pointed out
the ruins of the Sleeping Beauty’s castle. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Like
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Rime of the Ancient Mariner</i>,
fairy tales are full of ‘persons and characters supernatural, or at least
romantic’ and we approach them with, let’s use<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>Coleridge’s beautiful term, ‘poetic faith’. The wondrous events of
fairy tales will not fool anyone, but this doesn’t mean they are trivial. The
Ancient Mariner sins, suffers, repents, is forgiven – yet is left with the
obsessive need to tell his tale over and over. Post-traumatic stress is nothing
new. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Neither
do fairy tales shrink from the dark side of life. Abuse, fraticide and
child-murder are not uncommon; fairy tale families are frequently disfunctional.
Mothers die, stepmothers are cruel, fathers are weak, selfish, even incestous,
family friction often forces the protagonist out into the world. These things
are not fantastic, but fairy tales mediate them to us within the bounds of an
explicitly fantastic genre. The most unrealistic thing about the fairy tale is
not the magic. It is the happy ending. </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy5VgFoK6aWKGYR8vB-_6pMIIkyUSlVV5IRoCHtiChcubBsdNJD030qv0CN1ZvGzUqe89KX4x3YkdoZN0J-4vWPzHqYwhrkpvOiOX8CjBRke1HqTn1YA45XxdY6G5OKai92SId_YepKkdQJfxFgP9B7IsKkZ6oJzan37VombMFdmWwfDsZrfdtkun_rw/s800/11%20Dorothea_Viehmann%20portrait%20by%20Ludwig%20Grimm%20wiki.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="787" data-original-width="800" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy5VgFoK6aWKGYR8vB-_6pMIIkyUSlVV5IRoCHtiChcubBsdNJD030qv0CN1ZvGzUqe89KX4x3YkdoZN0J-4vWPzHqYwhrkpvOiOX8CjBRke1HqTn1YA45XxdY6G5OKai92SId_YepKkdQJfxFgP9B7IsKkZ6oJzan37VombMFdmWwfDsZrfdtkun_rw/w400-h394/11%20Dorothea_Viehmann%20portrait%20by%20Ludwig%20Grimm%20wiki.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dorothea Viehman: portrait by Ludwig Grimm (wikipedia)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The
people who made and told the tales were poor, often illiterate, and lived hard
lives. I’ve already mentioned Robert Jamieson’s story-telling tailor. Here is
Dorothea Viehmann, a tailor’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wife </i>who
contributed many stories to the Grimms’ first collection. William Larminie, who
collected stories in Ireland in the 1880s, describes his contributors with considerable
respect (in welcome contrast to Lord Raglan). Of Pat Minahan of Glencolumkill,
for example, he says:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">[F]rom him I obtained more stories than from any
other man. He said he was eighty years of age; but he was in full possession of
all his faculties. His style, with its short, abrupt sentences, is always
remarkable and at its best I think excellent.<a href="#_ftn15" name="_ftnref15" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn15;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[15]</span></span></span></span></a><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Another was Pat
McGrale, Jack-of-all-trades, boatman and fisherman, who ‘can read Irish but had
very little literature on which to practise his accomplishment. He knows some
long poems by heart.’ J F Campbell describes a seventy-nine year old man from
South Uist: ‘He seemed to know versions of nearly everything I had got, and
told me plainly that my versions were good for nothing. “Huch! Thou hast not
got them right at all.”’ <a href="#_ftn16" name="_ftnref16" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn16;" title=""><sup><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><sup><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[16]</span></sup></span></sup></a> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">These
were the folk who were telling, making and remaking the fairy tales we know.
They sound a sharp, intelligent bunch, sophisticated storytellers who could and
did link tales together into long chains that might run on for a whole night or
series of nights. The Highland gamekeeper Hector Urquhart told J F Campbell:
‘It was a common saying, “The first tale by the goodman, and tales till
daylight by the guest.”’<a href="#_ftn17" name="_ftnref17" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn17;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[17]</span></span></span></span></a>
Here was live entertainment, exciting and colourful, and it bound communities together
until, as Urquhart went on to say, ‘The minister came to the village in 1830,
and the schoolmaster soon followed, who put a stop in our village to such
gathering; and in their place we were supplied with heavier tasks than
listening to the old shoemaker’s fairy tales.’ This suppression occurred because
for two centuries the Presbyterian church had associated the fairies with the
devil and witchcraft. In the clash of beliefs, as usual, the authorities won. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmLxEOhVI_k7qYBjAyi7DvYX85RGdr4kxj8iX1P4O0bxgbfpTB4lf2sn9wZFm4gHhccwzlYBwYD-_GKhyTNMcpQynC5-huI8XRTl_VAT-PZwtMQDitMr47Ik3lSIto8vPysvMwKK7lfgGtGqW4NgaTgclishcFaFSJI7Oosf1jDAUGXXegd1wtgB3mQ/s1000/12%20Hansel%20and%20Gretel%20by%20Anton%20Pieck.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="837" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmLxEOhVI_k7qYBjAyi7DvYX85RGdr4kxj8iX1P4O0bxgbfpTB4lf2sn9wZFm4gHhccwzlYBwYD-_GKhyTNMcpQynC5-huI8XRTl_VAT-PZwtMQDitMr47Ik3lSIto8vPysvMwKK7lfgGtGqW4NgaTgclishcFaFSJI7Oosf1jDAUGXXegd1wtgB3mQ/w536-h640/12%20Hansel%20and%20Gretel%20by%20Anton%20Pieck.webp" width="536" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hansel and Gretel: Anton Pieck<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Told
and disseminated by the common people, fairy tales favour the underdog. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hansel and Gretel</i> is all about food and
hunger: parents who choose between starving to death or abandoning their
children. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Wolf and the Seven Little
Kids</i> features a single mum who must go out to work, leaving her children in
danger – and yes, she’s a goat. Of the 145 Grimms tales that are actually about
human beings (rather than animals or objects) – a whopping 84% follow the
fortunes of poor people: peasants, millers, tailors, servants, shoemakers,
tradesmen and furloughed soldiers. They nearly always <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">end </i>rich or married to royalty, or both: but that’s not how they
start. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Fairy
tales are aspirational and disruptive. The peasant lad marries the princess,
the wicked king is thrown down. Young women possess the wit or magical skills
to trick their giant or troll father-figures and save their lovers. The girl
who sits in the ashes gets to wear the dress as golden as the sun. Fairy tales
offer a world ruled by justice – not mercy. They are experiments in karma, if
you like. Here if anywhere, the innocent and good will triumph, kindness and
generosity will be rewarded, and the wicked will be punished: they will dance
themselves to death in red-hot shoes, or be rolled downhill in barrels full of
spikes. In Charles Perrault’s civilised <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cendrillon</i>
the sisters are forgiven and marry lords, but in the Grimms’ version, which as
a child I much preferred, they cut off their own heels and toes, and doves peck
their eyes out. We may wince, but fairy tales are brisk about such things, and
never graphic. </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The
context of GK Chesterton’s remark: ‘Children are innocent and love justice, but
adults, being sinful, naturally prefer mercy’ was that he had been to see
Maeterlinck’s play <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Blue Bird</i> with
some children who were upset that the hero and heroine never find out that ‘the
Dog was faithful and the Cat faithless’. The children were right. Justice comes
before mercy, and the real world is and perhaps ever shall be short on both.
Fairy tales offer the assurance that justice <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i> important and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">does</i>
exist... on some Platonic plane, somewhere. <br /></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNn9uyxwd7x_GzmxyzZkgGKXQm07RWMs4rtwVdwl1JCUgpT4se79zX6F-dbabiD2siGbAPdBT4DugpMk7rHRhjoNcza5PblJfe5ro8yKMD2Fy8lwPLdE5MqsqDPTroGIRHw11rkKbo5p9GWTM1dGIBpCnD0h7srPIwbj2IzrCUqsQUAwPv2NZAOnRkHw/s700/14%20026174c23962411c9f8bf1df91c4e3cc--folklore-kool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="507" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNn9uyxwd7x_GzmxyzZkgGKXQm07RWMs4rtwVdwl1JCUgpT4se79zX6F-dbabiD2siGbAPdBT4DugpMk7rHRhjoNcza5PblJfe5ro8yKMD2Fy8lwPLdE5MqsqDPTroGIRHw11rkKbo5p9GWTM1dGIBpCnD0h7srPIwbj2IzrCUqsQUAwPv2NZAOnRkHw/w464-h640/14%20026174c23962411c9f8bf1df91c4e3cc--folklore-kool.jpg" width="464" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Changeling: Andrew Paciorek http://www.batcow.co.uk/strangelands/solitary.htm<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Fairy
tales, wonder tales, have undoubtedly contributed to the sum of human happiness.
I doubt if they have ever done any harm. Only the stories that masquerade as
truth can do that. Folktales of changelings and fairy abductions are found all
over Britain and often include violent methods of bringing the ‘true’ child or
wife back, such as burning, drowning or exposure. In 1827 the Dublin Evening
Mail reported a trial at Tralee Assizes<a href="#_ftn18" name="_ftnref18" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn18;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[18]</span></span></span></span></a>: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tralee Assizes, July 1826. – Child Murder – Ann
Roche, an old woman of very advanced age, was indicted for the murder of
Michael Leahy, a very young child, by drowning him in the Flesk. [...] The
child, though four years old, could neither stand, walk or speak – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">it was thought to be fairy-struck</i> – and
the grandmother ordered the prisoner and one of the witnesses [...], to bathe
the child every morning in that pool of the river Flesk [...] and on the last
morning the prisoner kept the child longer under the water than usual [...]. Upon
cross-examination, the witness said it was not done with intent to kill the
child, but to cure it – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">to put the fairy
out of it</i>.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The magistrate
directed the jury to find Ann Roche not guilty of murder, on account of her
delusional beliefs. In 1885 a young Irish woman called Bridget Cleary was
beaten and burned to death by her father and husband, who believed the real
Bridget had been taken by the local fairies. And (though she gives no
reference) Katherine Briggs, in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Dictionary
of Fairies,</i> mentions a child burned to death at the beginning of the 20th
century ‘by officious neighbours who put it on a red-hot shovel in the
expectation that it would fly up the chimney’.<a href="#_ftn19" name="_ftnref19" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn19;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[19]</span></span></span></span></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It’s
not hard for people to believe narratives that fit ‘what everybody knows’. If
we return to Lord Raglan’s definition of history, ‘the recital in chronological
sequence of events which are known to have occurred’ – he thought, and a lot of
people still think, history is all facts and dates and dated events, and being
able to prove conclusively that certain things happened and where they
happened, and when. But another view is that history is what goes on inside our
heads – the things we remember, the stories we’ve been taught, shaped and
driven by emotions like pride, patriotism, nationalism. Not just history, but
our lived reality is made of stories, which may be neither accurate nor
complete. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">And
deliberate efforts have been made by those in power to suppress tales of which
they disapprove, as the minister and schoolmaster suppressed the Highland tales,
and as I discovered while researching my 2007 children’s novel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Troll Blood, </i>set in an imaginary,
magical Viking Age. The story took my characters across the Atlantic to
Vinland: North America; the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Greenlanders
Saga</i> tells how Thorvald Eiriksson and his men met, fought, and murdered
indigenous people there: people my characters would also have to encounter. Since
the </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">book was a fantasy, I
wanted to include on the North American scene creatures in some way parallel to
the trolls, nisses and nixies my Norse characters knew. A belief in trolls
characterises and differentiates a group of people from another group – one which
believes in nymphs, for example. Without reference to the folklore and beliefs of
the people I’d be writing about, I would be missing an important dimension.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Clearly
no one in the 10<sup>th</sup> century was collecting First Nations folklore, so
instead I explored the later-recorded folklore of a range of North-East Woods
peoples, especially the Mi’kmaq of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, whose
ancestors at least <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">could</i> have
encountered Norse voyagers. I spent months in the Bodleian doing this: one
particular story was collected in the mid 1920s by the anthropologist Elsie
Clews Parsons from a Mi’kmaw woman called Isabelle Googoo Morris, about some
creatures called the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hamaja’lu</i>:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> These are very small beings, no larger than two
finger joints. There are thousands of them who live along the shore. [...] Once
when some men landed on the shore for a short time, before they took to their
boat again they saw a model of themselves and their boat made in stones by the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hamaja’lu</i>. They work very fast.<a href="#_ftn20" name="_ftnref20" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn20;" title=""><sup><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><sup><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[20]</span></sup></span></sup></a> </span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2YdA1JBiSJA1txJMY8zvLtM6erXT4tLqN0IZWAzzCDOHIF89p99jXGh_B7EDBNybvvRzVBCMrywZGcs_WZOjP9cv5xwlftE25xm1EXpqLj6kmERO6FAnpU2Ua3iYeNp28hYaJrncjuYXECnMHKycLDMcOvewkgWBqth3Iqx36APxk4LHFMRNW5y1MTg/s2592/15%20hamajalu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="1944" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2YdA1JBiSJA1txJMY8zvLtM6erXT4tLqN0IZWAzzCDOHIF89p99jXGh_B7EDBNybvvRzVBCMrywZGcs_WZOjP9cv5xwlftE25xm1EXpqLj6kmERO6FAnpU2Ua3iYeNp28hYaJrncjuYXECnMHKycLDMcOvewkgWBqth3Iqx36APxk4LHFMRNW5y1MTg/w480-h640/15%20hamajalu.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pebble figure on Lindisfarne: author's photo<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">This seemed delightful,
and the hamaja’lu went into my book. When it was finished I sent it to be
checked by Dr. Ruth Holmes Whitehead, an expert in Mi’kmaw studies, who set me
right on several points. But I was rather dismayed when she asked me to correct
‘the hamaja’lu’ to<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wiklatmuj’ik</i>’, a far more difficult word
to read and pronounce. I asked why, and she wrote back, ‘There is no ‘h’ in
modern Mi’kmaq, and this word is obsolete. The word used today is the one I
have given you.’ This surprised me: how could a word used freely in the 1920s –
there were several stories about the hamaja’lu – have died out? Back came the
reply: ‘You would not find it so surprising if you were aware that, during the
course of the 20<sup>th</sup> century, generations of Mi’kmaq children were
taken from their parents, put into homes, taught European ways, and punished –
beaten, shut in cupboards, thrown down stairs – for speaking their own
language.’ I took her advice. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Though
stories about the hamaja’lu were written down in the 1920s, they’re not told
any more. The wiklatmuj’ik are not the same; much bigger, for one thing. Such
tales are more than curiosities. The now-forgotten hamaja’lu may never have had
objective reality, but they were once part of a belief system, part of Mi’kmaq
identity. And that was what the Canadian Government of the time was trying to
eradicate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red;"></span></u></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Despite
such losses, the Mi’kmaw language survived, and so has the culture and people,
but in the introduction to the Indigenous Australian origin myth I mentioned
earlier, I found this unemotional but terrible statement:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The myths and folktales presented in this paper were
collected from the Wheelman [Wiilman] and neighbouring tribes of South-Western
Australia which lived in the region inland from Bremer Bay. These tribes are
now<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>extinct so that the material
included herewith probably represents all the tales which will ever be known
from this part of Australia.<a href="#_ftn21" name="_ftnref21" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn21;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[21]</span></span></span></span></a>
</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The myths and
tales were collected in the 1880s. The paper was published in 1934. Just fifty
years. I checked and in fact the Wiilman people still exist, but their language
is extinct: it will have been lost through the same tactic of taking children away
from their parents. The sorry pattern of Western culture imposing itself on the
cultures of indigenous peoples been repeated many times.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">So
what about our own national identity, what stories do we tell about ourselves? Probably
the most resonant in popular memory are still those of the Battle of Britain,
and the little ships at Dunkirk. They may well inspire us, but they are our grand-parents’
stories, not ours. We should be careful of bathing in unearned, reflected glory
and clinging too closely to the past.</span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLtbit2zURKo7Sj3lEGoxLuCLLHtsPOEfRaQKIc8PviReKfOMWOSo52DNfjqt6-LV9C1TCje556a4LLAGJi9Sy-PKfu0KErZjr7Dn8ke5VCRE01Pl4lJDS8j6Nmriof_pVvIuKy6FrBpvpPZAheCgImTdF8z8U3xRFN0YIs-7NhWFg5_-MaEBpw_i-8Q/s1600/16%20Our%20Island%20Story.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1129" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLtbit2zURKo7Sj3lEGoxLuCLLHtsPOEfRaQKIc8PviReKfOMWOSo52DNfjqt6-LV9C1TCje556a4LLAGJi9Sy-PKfu0KErZjr7Dn8ke5VCRE01Pl4lJDS8j6Nmriof_pVvIuKy6FrBpvpPZAheCgImTdF8z8U3xRFN0YIs-7NhWFg5_-MaEBpw_i-8Q/w453-h640/16%20Our%20Island%20Story.jpg" width="453" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Here
is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">OUR ISLAND STORY, a History of England
for Boys and Girls</i> by Henrietta Elizabeth Marshall, published in 1904. It
is still in print. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red;"></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The
opening chapter tells how Neptune and Amphitrite had a son called Albion and
gave him an island: ‘a beautiful gem in the blue water’. Albion ruled this
island until he was killed in a fight with Hercules, and then Brutus arrived
from Troy to fight and kill the giants who lived here, and when Neptune retired
as a god, because he had loved Albion so much he gave his sceptre to the
islands now called Britannia: ‘For we know – Britannia rules the waves.’<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Now
that’s pure fairy tale, even if most of it’s based on Geoffrey of Monmouth’s 12<sup>th</sup>
century <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">History of the Kings of Britain</i>
which itself, as you’ll well know, is almost entirely fiction. The author ends
the chapter with perhaps the blandest account of colonialism I’ve ever read: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">In this book you will find the story of the people
of Britain. The story tells how they grew to be a great people, till the little
green island set in the lonely sea was no longer large enough to contain them
all. Then they sailed away over the blue waves to far-distant countries. Now
the people of the little island possess lands all over the world.<a href="#_ftn22" name="_ftnref22" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn22;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[22]</span></span></span></span></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">No mention,
you’ll notice, of the peoples our ancestors dispossessed. </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> David
Cameron has gone on the record three times, describing how <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Our Island Story’</i>s<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>version
of British history shaped his mind. He referenced it in a speech delivered in
2014 just before the Scottish Referendum, to deliver a message of national
unity: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I have an old copy of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Our Island Story</i>, my favourite book as a child, and I want to give
it to my three children, and I want to be able to teach my youngest, when she’s
old enough to understand, that she is part of this great, world-beating story.
And I passionately hope that my children will be able to teach their children the
same.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Our
Island Story</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> is almost entirely folktales. There’s
Merlin, there’s King Arthur – ‘only fifteen when he was made king, but the
bravest, wisest and best king that had ever ruled in Britain.’ There’s Robin
Hood and his Merry Men...</span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhhm5qaPo7F-HwUWuxWNCtibsqDccjdU_LPY2_0w4pXGdfIeacNzhNl0nyciGa-VB-mu-Etvqp1G6zkGeFxzaFnVOaEu63X1ho01okxbG4xsdGVIkv1ScudH8BNZQ1DyYDRtX2wDqQOIs5ei8AxLKiSLtrdtt9LxTZKAw0FVgodqWRk91YPdqBzX533w/s1198/17%20Raleigh%20and%20QE1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="906" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhhm5qaPo7F-HwUWuxWNCtibsqDccjdU_LPY2_0w4pXGdfIeacNzhNl0nyciGa-VB-mu-Etvqp1G6zkGeFxzaFnVOaEu63X1ho01okxbG4xsdGVIkv1ScudH8BNZQ1DyYDRtX2wDqQOIs5ei8AxLKiSLtrdtt9LxTZKAw0FVgodqWRk91YPdqBzX533w/w303-h400/17%20Raleigh%20and%20QE1.gif" width="303" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elizabeth and Raleigh: Herbert Moore 1908<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">... and Sir
Walter Raleigh throwing down his cloak for Queen Elizabeth – for which there is
no contemporary evidence. Marshall even presents Raleigh as a benefactor of the
Irish: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Two of the things Raleigh brought home [from the
Americas] were tobacco and potatoes. [Queen] Elizabeth had given him estates in
Ireland, and there he planted the potatoes and showed the people how to grow
them. Even to this day the poor people in Ireland grow potatoes and live on
them very largely.<a href="#_ftn23" name="_ftnref23" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn23;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[23]</span></span></span></span></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Raleigh received
his Irish lands as a reward for helping to put down the Desmond Rebellions,
when he took part in at least one massacre, so this account of him as a sort of
kindly agriculturalist is alternative fact – if you remember that phrase coined
by Kellyanne Conway – of a high order.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Our Island Story</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">
is not honest. It is propaganda designed to invest a child with a particular
identity: the son or daughter of a heroic, benign and glorious British race.
Blurbs on Amazon hail it as a ‘compelling narration’ that lauds ‘the valiant
spirit of Richard Lionheart who led the Third Crusade’. The book of course
includes no account of that king’s decision to massacre almost 3000 Muslim
prisoners – men, women and children – at the Siege of Acre. No wonder then,
that one five-star review reads: ‘Parents, grandparents and teachers, this
timeless classic will help the children in your life learn their country’s
history and be proud and grateful for it!’ </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>These stories, these folktales, are
woven into the British historical narrative. They still influence real people,
real politicians, real events. We live more than ever before in a world of
conspiracy theories, fake news, competing versions of events – all stories, and
it’s more important than ever to be able to distinguish between them. No
history book can tell everything, but balance is required. It may not be
pleasant to learn from David Olusoga<a href="#_ftn24" name="_ftnref24" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn24;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[24]</span></span></span></span></a>
that even after the abolition of the Atlantic slave trade in 1807, much of
Britain’s wealth continued to depend on the sugar plantations of the West
Indies where slavery did not end until 1838 after a series of bloody uprisings
– but it’s important. When we don’t hear these stories, and the statue of a
slave-owner gets toppled into a harbour in Bristol, then people object and up
goes the cry of ‘rewriting history’. But every nation has its dark side, and
nations, like people, should admit their faults. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Stories are wonderful. They
entertain, instruct, frighten, comfort, amaze: they offer hope, wonder, solace.
They bind us together in families, communities, nations. They have the power to
command belief. We just need to be careful what sort. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CzP8n8qsNhsxvdHWFOtuq6ZspW0XHDujYIiVrclHot46E0-1Oqo1klYolHyVwa2QdqLg9kZTuqNniJBIWpVghFMS7GsyMtaw7E_b4Kvt3V_gHcE3Y1NRAZ1HZPpZje4l6g-7BI6nl06n7cyGMnbW8jkrHOc_YS9KcdjFTUKfdLE96SMhKP-A0vw4EA/s2249/18%20Sintram%20and%20his%20companions%20001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1606" data-original-width="2249" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CzP8n8qsNhsxvdHWFOtuq6ZspW0XHDujYIiVrclHot46E0-1Oqo1klYolHyVwa2QdqLg9kZTuqNniJBIWpVghFMS7GsyMtaw7E_b4Kvt3V_gHcE3Y1NRAZ1HZPpZje4l6g-7BI6nl06n7cyGMnbW8jkrHOc_YS9KcdjFTUKfdLE96SMhKP-A0vw4EA/w640-h458/18%20Sintram%20and%20his%20companions%20001.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Author's copy: frontispiece and title page<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Friedrich
de la Motte Fouqué’s 1814 romance <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sintram
and His Companions</i> is a remarkable fairy tale set in a medieval
Norway-that-never-was. It’s an eerie, powerful fable about temptation and the
struggle for righteousness: Sintram’s terrible companions are a spectral Death
and a dwarfish Sin. The preface to my1883 edition includes a wonderful
quotation from ‘Mr Linklater, curate of St Peter’s, London Docks’, who read the
tale aloud to ‘the rough lads’ of his Bible class: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It was my compact with them that if they were good
and attentive at lessons I would afterwards tell them a story, or show them
pictures. ... But I was most astonished at what I considered a daring
experiment, the reading to them <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sintram</i>.
It made the most wonderful impression on them. They wrought it into their own
lives. They called the different localities of the parish by the names in the
book. They literally hungered for the next week’s portion. I believe that
nothing I have ever read or said to them has affected them so lastingly as
this.<a href="#_ftn25" name="_ftnref25" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn25;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[25]</span></span></span></span></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I find that
incredibly moving. In creating and believing in stories, we create and believe
in ourselves. Among the many definitions of what it means to be human, the
capacity to make up stories may endure as a distinguishing feature – although
who knows what the whales are singing? Let me quote from an essay I wrote
several years ago, for I don’t think I can put it any better:</span><span style="color: red; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">We pass through the world surrounded by mysteries –
things which <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">are not</i>, which have no
physical existence. There is the past, which we remember but can no longer
touch: a magician’s backward-facing glass in which the dead are still alive and
the old are still young and can be seen going about their affairs, ignorant of
our gaze, in tiny bright pictures with the sound turned down low. Then there is
the distance – that blue trembling elsewhere on the rim of the horizon beyond
which, perhaps, everything is different, new and wonderful. And there’s the
invisible future into which we constantly travel with our baggage of hopes and
promises, longings and fears. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The before-and-after of life is a
great darkness, and we build a bonfire to light and warm and comfort ourselves
– the bonfire of culture: myths, stories, songs, music, poetry, religion, art
and science. All these things spring from the human struggle to apprehend the
world and our place in it: and the untouchable existence of such things as the
past, the future, the horizon, has given us confidence to imagine and discover
and invent and delight in other things which can neither be seen nor approached
nor touched. Right and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>wrong. Gods,
ghosts and mathematics. And of course...</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72P73RBjT1zL4KO9KKDELEsc23fUoaedTspVu-78Mr9xdLs8U8-o-lGM4PotIkOsK5OmkkxCOHynwUq_xvOHY2QkvJQqxZ85lXw6JWAMjWncT_RcvSU59a5ex5cGP-hSJSJ2m5MFlz4_or9TL6-2WLPO5ciJlZIQV2oYLaxjS54JOoqU8tGzC4L6RrA/s855/19%20Tyr_and_Fenrir-John_Bauer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="855" data-original-width="733" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72P73RBjT1zL4KO9KKDELEsc23fUoaedTspVu-78Mr9xdLs8U8-o-lGM4PotIkOsK5OmkkxCOHynwUq_xvOHY2QkvJQqxZ85lXw6JWAMjWncT_RcvSU59a5ex5cGP-hSJSJ2m5MFlz4_or9TL6-2WLPO5ciJlZIQV2oYLaxjS54JOoqU8tGzC4L6RrA/w343-h400/19%20Tyr_and_Fenrir-John_Bauer.jpg" width="343" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tyr and Fenrir: John Bauer<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I began this
evening with the wolf Fenrir, for whom the dwarfs wrought that cord of other,
equally impossible things. He was suspicious of it from the start, saying:
‘This ribbon looks to me as if I would gain no renown from breaking it – it is
so slight a cord; but if it has been made by guile and cunning, slender though
it is, it is not going to come on my legs.’<a href="#_ftn27" name="_ftnref27" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn27;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[27]</span></span></span></span></a>
But he was persuaded, and once entangled he was unable to get free. All the
same, he will eventually break loose on the day of Ragnarok. Perhaps it was his
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">belief</i> in the cord that imprisoned
him. Perhaps it was the guile, the cunning, the spell of story that bound him,
after all.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj47-LiCtrtveQ3aLCJdTYDi10yC9dROfBarmQCBiBkE7R1otsxERJ9A8ZwjPEdIzDWmg956z0AyGTYDF-Pd_1KNWo8rfP9rAGRXJ3Cgkf5xV7UhmWUD0qTMSgYyC06kkgYbrbNB38ZfoF8gvYA6N099AKS_f6_uKt76nHvKWSa1RwMa-wAqMNEwF75cw/s140/header%20footer7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="115" data-original-width="140" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj47-LiCtrtveQ3aLCJdTYDi10yC9dROfBarmQCBiBkE7R1otsxERJ9A8ZwjPEdIzDWmg956z0AyGTYDF-Pd_1KNWo8rfP9rAGRXJ3Cgkf5xV7UhmWUD0qTMSgYyC06kkgYbrbNB38ZfoF8gvYA6N099AKS_f6_uKt76nHvKWSa1RwMa-wAqMNEwF75cw/s1600/header%20footer7.jpg" width="140" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"> </p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;">The link to the Youtube recording of the event made by the Folklore Society:<br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ID3KbgJiimw" width="320" youtube-src-id="ID3KbgJiimw"></iframe></div><br /><p></p>
<div style="mso-element: footnote-list;"></div><div style="mso-element: footnote-list;"><br clear="all" />
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<div id="ftn1" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a>
Tolkien, JRR, ‘On Fairy-Stories’, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays</i>, George Allen & Unwin, 1983,
128</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn2" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a>
Tolkien, ‘On Fairy Stories’, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Monsters
and the Critics and Other Essays</i>, George Allen and Unwin, 1983, p132</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn3" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[3]</span></span></span></span></a>
Jamieson, Robert, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Illustrations of
Northern Antiquities</i>, 1814, pp 397 <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">et
seq</i></p>
</div>
<div id="ftn4" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn4;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[4]</span></span></span></span></a>
Addy, S.O.,‘The Old Man At the White House’: Four Yorkshire Folktales, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Folklore</i> Vol 8, no 4, December 1897</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn5" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref5" name="_ftn5" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn5;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[5]</span></span></span></span></a>
Keightley, Thomas, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Fairy Mythology</i>,
308 et seq</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn6" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref6" name="_ftn6" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn6;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[6]</span></span></span></span></a>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">op cit</i></p>
</div>
<div id="ftn7" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref7" name="_ftn7" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn7;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[7]</span></span></span></span></a>
Thompson, Stith, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Folktale</i>, Dryden
Press 1951, p263</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn8" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref8" name="_ftn8" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn8;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[8]</span></span></span></span></a>
Douglas & Greenaway, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">English
Historical Documents</i>, Vol II Eyre Methuen 1981, 204</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn9" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref9" name="_ftn9" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn9;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[9]</span></span></span></span></a>
Briggs, KM, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Fairies in Tradition and
Literature</i>, Routledge & Kegan Paul 1967, 7</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn10" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref10" name="_ftn10" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn10;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[10]</span></span></span></span></a>
Documented by Simon Young and Ceri Houlbrook, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Magical Folk</i>, Gibson Square 2018</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn11" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref11" name="_ftn11" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn11;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[11]</span></span></span></span></a>
Raglan, Lord, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Hero: A Study in
Tradition, Myth and Drama</i>, Thinker’s Library 1948, 30 et seq</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn12" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref12" name="_ftn12" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn12;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[12]</span></span></span></span></a>
Raglan,Lord: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Hero</i>, Thinker’s
Library 1948 p3</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn13" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref13" name="_ftn13" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn13;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[13]</span></span></span></span></a>
‘The Princess Who Would Be A Prince’: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Foundling Prince and Other Tales</i>, Petre Ispirescu, tr. Julia Collier Harris
& Rea Ipcar, Houghton Mifflin Co. NY 1917,241</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn14" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref14" name="_ftn14" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn14;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[14]</span></span></span></span></a>
Mayhew, James, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">London Labour and the
London Poor</i>, <span style="font-size: 9pt;">Griffin, Bohn & Co, 1861</span>,
391</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn15" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref15" name="_ftn15" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn15;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[15]</span></span></span></span></a>
Larminie, William, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">West Irish Folk Tales</i>,
The Camden Library 1893, pxxv</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn16" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref16" name="_ftn16" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn16;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[16]</span></span></span></span></a>
Campbell JF, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Popular Tales of the West
Highlands</i>, Alexander Gardner 1890, Vol 1, xxii </p>
</div>
<div id="ftn17" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref17" name="_ftn17" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn17;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[17]</span></span></span></span></a>
op cit vi</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn18" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref18" name="_ftn18" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn18;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[18]</span></span></span></span></a>
Dublin Evening Mail, 17 April 1827, quoted by Thomas Crofton Croker, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Fairy
Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">, 2<sup>nd</sup> edition, preface.</span></p>
</div>
<div id="ftn19" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref19" name="_ftn19" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn19;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[19]</span></span></span></span></a>
Briggs, Katharine, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Dictionary of
Fairies</i>, Penguin 1977, 71</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn20" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><a href="#_ftnref20" name="_ftn20" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn20;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[20]</span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">
Parsons, Elsie Clews, ‘Micmac Folklore’, Journal of American Folklore, v.38,
1925, 94</span></p>
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"> </p>
</div>
<div id="ftn21" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref21" name="_ftn21" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn21;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[21]</span></span></span></span></a>
Hassall, Ethel,’Myths and Folktales of the Wheelman Tribe of South-Western
Australia’, selected & revised by D.S. Davidson, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Folklore</i> Vol 45, No 3, Sept 1934</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn22" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref22" name="_ftn22" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn22;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[22]</span></span></span></span></a>
Marshall, HE, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Our Island Story</i>, TC
& EC Jack, 1905, p4</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn23" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref23" name="_ftn23" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn23;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[23]</span></span></span></span></a>
op.cit, 344</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn24" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref24" name="_ftn24" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn24;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[24]</span></span></span></span></a>
Olusoga, David, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Black and British: A
Forgotten History</i>, Pan Macmillan 2016, Chapter Six</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn25" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref25" name="_ftn25" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn25;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[25]</span></span></span></span></a>
De La Motte Fouque, Friedrich, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sintram
and His Companions</i>, Seeley Jackson & Halliday 1883, vii</p>
</div>
<div id="ftn26" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref26" name="_ftn26" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn26;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[26]</span></span></span></span></a>
Langrish, Katherine, ‘Desiring Dragons’, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Seven
Miles of Steel Thistles</i>, Greystones Press 2016, 114<span style="color: red;"></span></p>
</div>
<div id="ftn27" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref27" name="_ftn27" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn27;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">[27]</span></span></span></span></a>
Sturluson, Snorri, The Prose Edda, tr. Jean I Young, U. of California Press
1973, p38 </p>
</div>
</div>
<p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></b></p>
<p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-38916890707622162792023-03-02T02:20:00.005-08:002023-03-02T02:45:43.564-08:00The Water-Horse of Varkasaig<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBAqFhyALYTuNuhYAcJqhxlGaq-RgLEYy1ROd6yZcHsK7P-bNA0F4RKSvsvJfiH9uTGtg5DbKXHVyO0YSbkSAbViDTQXwZWB_9CeoJPuJwFiwEKkRJ2iEXw8bbXvRICVYDY4wwmlyMTpEyoN4u_xJwcASVuokA6v0g3gxN3SfM-errZq8lLGgvd-8cFA/s821/Water-Horse%20by%20Andrew%20Paciorek.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="821" data-original-width="588" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBAqFhyALYTuNuhYAcJqhxlGaq-RgLEYy1ROd6yZcHsK7P-bNA0F4RKSvsvJfiH9uTGtg5DbKXHVyO0YSbkSAbViDTQXwZWB_9CeoJPuJwFiwEKkRJ2iEXw8bbXvRICVYDY4wwmlyMTpEyoN4u_xJwcASVuokA6v0g3gxN3SfM-errZq8lLGgvd-8cFA/w458-h640/Water-Horse%20by%20Andrew%20Paciorek.jpg" width="458" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Water-Horse' by Andrew Paciorek<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">This tale about a water-horse is taken from <i>‘Skye: The
Island and its Legends’</i> by Otta F. Swire (Oxford University Press, 1952). Varkasaig
is on Loch Bharcasaig (same name, different spelling) on the north-west
coast of Skye. ‘Crowdie’ is gruel, a ‘shieling’ is a rough hut or shelter built
on a piece of pasture and a ‘cailin’ is a girl (like the Irish ‘colleen’). I love the wonderful, evocative phrase with which the mother threatens the kelpie. </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Orbost and Varkasaig
are both said to be Scandinavian place-names, Orbost being ‘the homestead of
the seals’, of which a great number once haunted the bay, and Varkasaig being
‘the place of the great jumping beast’, though this, I fear, is too good to be
true. This refers to an ‘Each Uisge’ or water-horse which lives in the stream. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At one time there was a shieling not far from the burn and
here an old woman and her daughter came one summer to herd the cows. One night
there was a great storm of thunder, lightning, and rain. When the storm was at
its height there came a knocking at the door of the shieling: the girl hastened
to open it and found on the threshold a very handsome young man, well dressed
but dripping wet, who begged for shelter. Rather thrilled, the girl invited him
in and offered him a place by the fire and some oatcake and crowdie. He
accepted both, then settled himself near the maiden with his head on her lap,
where she sang him to sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When he slept the old woman handed her a comb and,very
gently, she began to comb his hair. As the wise woman expected, it was full of
sand and small shells. Then they knew him for what he was – a water-horse. The
frightened girl gently moved his head on to a bundle of unspun wool her mother
brought her, and slipped out of the house to cross the burn, knowing that no
supernatural creature can pursue across running water. But the hut was some way
from the burn side and in a few moments the young man awoke: when he realised
what had happened he at once resumed his horse’s shape and, roaring with fury,
pursued the maiden in great leaps and jumps. Her mother was beforehand with
him, however, and threw a naked knife in his path. As he paused she came up with
him and said: ‘If you pursue the cailin I will cry your name to the four brown
boundaries of the earth’, and she whispered his name. What it was or how she
knew it has never been told, but the effect was instantaneous; with a terrible
shriek the water-horse rushed to the burn side, plunged into the deep pool by
the bridge, and vanished. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It is said that, ignorant that the old woman has long since
died, he has never again dared to venture far from his burn lest she name him,
but those who go quietly on a fine summer evening may perchance see him
frolicking all alone on the sand at the river mouth; and colts born in the
valley exceed all others in strength and swiftness. But other say that the
‘Each Uisge’ made a pact with the wise woman, that every tenth year the burn
should bring him a living sacrifice so long as he remained beneath its waters. <o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlz7W3h24_8Hvw6bnmi3V6RMtsAi42Iq3Hvt0qg36gbqjLakxgJ0x1nVlGTzMMsa2LV75huaFRbcxhr_eCsiTuzznJkUK3MrN5R-qUNDxBB3xPNatgedJL0mE4nyezVzhNzSV-l5Tp9L-9ezE25NxxGbMLjWcDbXXhkcMCRzpyI9FpOrZrTF1DDqGnuQ/s200/header%20footer%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="115" data-original-width="200" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlz7W3h24_8Hvw6bnmi3V6RMtsAi42Iq3Hvt0qg36gbqjLakxgJ0x1nVlGTzMMsa2LV75huaFRbcxhr_eCsiTuzznJkUK3MrN5R-qUNDxBB3xPNatgedJL0mE4nyezVzhNzSV-l5Tp9L-9ezE25NxxGbMLjWcDbXXhkcMCRzpyI9FpOrZrTF1DDqGnuQ/s1600/header%20footer%202.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Picture credit: </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">'Water-Horse' by kind permission of Andrew Paciorek: <a href="http://www.batcow.co.uk/strangelands/water.htm">http://www.batcow.co.uk/strangelands/water.htm</a></span></div>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4950999049789394042.post-63336219306860981722023-02-16T03:49:00.000-08:002023-02-16T03:49:47.964-08:00Half-Hours in Hades, and The Screwtape Letters<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigurfo-zN24OOYOoy8lwbqna-G-5hXnq0f1CpEKd3_gFBUMDGcsHRb2eWaqKokAYx5h0vvNDSwt9Pw2XdZuUw61wrtlLL3rK6dspOnuaAybSfPcJbpnie9BMgW3GP1NeZc4fnmyngDdKZHhjpwzAN1VUXej2tw-raIRCdisk9PyfvyvB2ni_xpK7Kpzw/s3302/IMG_3112.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3302" data-original-width="2961" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigurfo-zN24OOYOoy8lwbqna-G-5hXnq0f1CpEKd3_gFBUMDGcsHRb2eWaqKokAYx5h0vvNDSwt9Pw2XdZuUw61wrtlLL3rK6dspOnuaAybSfPcJbpnie9BMgW3GP1NeZc4fnmyngDdKZHhjpwzAN1VUXej2tw-raIRCdisk9PyfvyvB2ni_xpK7Kpzw/w574-h640/IMG_3112.JPG" width="574" /></a></div><br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
<o:TargetScreenSize>1024x768</o:TargetScreenSize>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-GB</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I have made a discovery,
or at least a possible discovery. Maybe others have made it before, but
it is new to me: in 1891 at the age of seventeen G.K. Chesterton, then a pupil
at St Paul’s School London, wrote and illustrated a witty natural history (or supernatural
history?) of devils, which he called ‘Half-Hours In Hades: An Elementary
Handbook of Demonology’. It opens with a preface by the supposed author, a ‘Professor
of Supernatural Science’: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In the autumn of 1890, I was leaving the Casino at Monte
Carlo in company wth an eminent Divine, whose name, for obvious reasons, I
suppress. We were engaged in an interesting discussion on the subject of
Demons, he contending that they were an unnecessary, not to say prejudicial,
element in our civilisation, an opinion which, needless to say, I strongly
opposed. Having at length been so fortunate as to convince him of his error, I
proceeded to furnish him with various instances in which Demons have proved beneficial
to mankind, and at length he exclaimed, ‘My dear fellow, why do you not write a
book about – ’ Here he coughed. The idea took so strong a hold upon me that
from that time I have taken careful note of the the habits and appearance of
such specimens as come in my way, and my studies have resulted in the
production of this little work, which will, I trust, prove not uninteresting to
the youthful seeker after knowledge.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">With its casually
ludicrous opening in which a professor and a clergyman exit the Casino at Monte
Carlo deep in a discussion about demons, and its spoof faux-academic style, this
is a polished piece of writing from a boy of seventeen. Daring, too, especially when the
so-called Professor goes on to dedicate his work to – well, to Lucifer: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">In my capacity as Professor of Supernatural Science at
Oxford University, it has often been my duty to call upon an individual who
probably knows more about all branches of the subject with which I am about to
deal than any man on earth, although no one has yet persuaded him to give his
knowledge to the world, and with his permission I have dedicated these pictures
to him, as some slight recognition of the wisdom and experience which he has
brought to my assistance in the compiling of this modest treatise. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfN_Hl2RHK23_bPwQoLeGrcdZMPuKbBfx3AbLyTFboABETlDWDg2ojaa-dfUpChAQv_cpYEqqVlI_bhxsuH3tefsesLUzdNc76uYJyqCRGV2v07aSEXtnUvIXEUQ-vd267n3jBq-8nWmDGe1aeUUwWIgu0QEjNcjEpB3hcGJwuujhHw-kFjzJooumcg/s3423/IMG_3102.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1816" data-original-width="3423" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfN_Hl2RHK23_bPwQoLeGrcdZMPuKbBfx3AbLyTFboABETlDWDg2ojaa-dfUpChAQv_cpYEqqVlI_bhxsuH3tefsesLUzdNc76uYJyqCRGV2v07aSEXtnUvIXEUQ-vd267n3jBq-8nWmDGe1aeUUwWIgu0QEjNcjEpB3hcGJwuujhHw-kFjzJooumcg/w400-h213/IMG_3102.JPG" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The word ‘cimmerian’ being
unknown to me (see above), I looked it up in the Shorter Oxford Dictionary, which provides
the meaning: ‘Of or belonging to the Cimmerii, a people fabled by the ancients
to live in perpetual darkness. Hence, an epithet of dense darkness.’ Where young Chesterton came across it I don’t know but lo! the rewards of a classical education. He went on to write three
‘chapters’ of this short but lively treatise. The first and longest concerns
‘The Five Primary Types’ of demons and their habits: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">For those who love the study of Demonology (and I pity the
man or woman who does not) it possesses an interest which will remain after
health, youth and even life have departed.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I love the sinister, dead-pan
humour of this assertion, delivered as though demonology were a hobby as ordinary
as stamp-collecting. Chesterton, or his professor, now introduces us to ‘The
Common (or “Garden”) Serpent ...<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>so-called
because its first appearance in the world took place in a Garden. Since that
time its proportions have dwindled considerably, but its influence and power
have largely increased; it is found in almost everything.’ </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTARrsrheF7_ARgt4Okq8AAQpneVndWLN-unysym5KXa11CjJiw5_0YV6qVWao706rG_XIhkCAv8w7sZx6B562IjjpPk9F3XMe2ArftipN3jOjwY3dTktB5-ByrAJn9laFQhBITxW9mPkyjuFhG2OyKOki9TM05W3iGiYc9tLdIpsgwikdTLrmEx4EAQ/s4032/IMG_3103.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTARrsrheF7_ARgt4Okq8AAQpneVndWLN-unysym5KXa11CjJiw5_0YV6qVWao706rG_XIhkCAv8w7sZx6B562IjjpPk9F3XMe2ArftipN3jOjwY3dTktB5-ByrAJn9laFQhBITxW9mPkyjuFhG2OyKOki9TM05W3iGiYc9tLdIpsgwikdTLrmEx4EAQ/w640-h480/IMG_3103.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Beside it comes the Mediaeval
Demon, ‘whose horns, tail and claws form a remarkable contrast to the
serpentine formation of the first type.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">It is ... the subject rather of playfulness and household
merriment rather than abhorrance, while the far cleverer and more graceful
serpent is the object of a cruel and unreasoning persecution. But useful as the
mediaeval species is found at the present day as a general source of amusement,
it has of late somewhat failed to stir public interest, which is turned towards
newer and more elegant varieties. Mr. J. Milton, in his interesting and
valuable work on this subject, has discussed at some length the leading
characteristics of a fine species of which he was primarily the discoverer...
This magnificent animal measures at least four roods, and when floating full
length on the warm gulf, of which it is an inhabitant, has been compared by its
discoverer to a whale.* </span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mgXE5KHsOVkd6U2mIFyd0dkHe-7oWDCJdl1_yGW7_jSywLzyk4SrZjiYOTdnYL-CxlEiV6ri8TOAU6VmzouYjMo-nsJIJY8AZGaLsZ8-VOCikwfpOwEHSqmgALoxae30LEXJtU-BoWbHlTGeBn6g7sft-QhvdZLxx0_grMecSVuG_iYeVbgZ1lMlcw/s4032/IMG_3104.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mgXE5KHsOVkd6U2mIFyd0dkHe-7oWDCJdl1_yGW7_jSywLzyk4SrZjiYOTdnYL-CxlEiV6ri8TOAU6VmzouYjMo-nsJIJY8AZGaLsZ8-VOCikwfpOwEHSqmgALoxae30LEXJtU-BoWbHlTGeBn6g7sft-QhvdZLxx0_grMecSVuG_iYeVbgZ1lMlcw/w300-h400/IMG_3104.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">You get the picture. Accounts
of the ‘Red Devil’ (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Diabolus Mephistopheles</i>), and the ‘Blue Devil’ (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Caerulius Lugubrius</i>) follow, while Chapter 2,
‘The Evolution of Demons’ is comprised mainly of cartoons (Chesterton’s
inventive powers perhaps temporarily exhausted). Here they are: </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrl--zw2YmNdrxvhBUStLrL25Id3wk9GHO_Hdf9Bb5nTxmkDUSNCzujkuLV9VGEKgU187QrGTdpP6sW7fP48ShytqNdmgOvtHrRHwTqAppAl6iQT2ZheTCgnRbn7IWbxeaOcrOFe1y70OlUrpu9Fns69QLWKPfwowTR2rQeoQ8wqwjtIMosPNSUnvIg/s4031/IMG_3107.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2636" data-original-width="4031" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrl--zw2YmNdrxvhBUStLrL25Id3wk9GHO_Hdf9Bb5nTxmkDUSNCzujkuLV9VGEKgU187QrGTdpP6sW7fP48ShytqNdmgOvtHrRHwTqAppAl6iQT2ZheTCgnRbn7IWbxeaOcrOFe1y70OlUrpu9Fns69QLWKPfwowTR2rQeoQ8wqwjtIMosPNSUnvIg/w640-h418/IMG_3107.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpHVJN30Kuh86CWAmoEkyfee5Y8lpFRVj0ZqcxL_HkTMTItlUQOVTu88p-1W8BuvX9FkkE1ivKofqTGh8wawQOdjcOCeLH5YrVqD5Q2Ib7aBY-twbvWN39GVB3MIs3Fn6ldWFX2VWzpc7EV3jm83xfxC8LvsIlD2WG0Nx5rN2INyulfhgD2ZL_Zy0wBw/s3444/IMG_3108.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2793" data-original-width="3444" height="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpHVJN30Kuh86CWAmoEkyfee5Y8lpFRVj0ZqcxL_HkTMTItlUQOVTu88p-1W8BuvX9FkkE1ivKofqTGh8wawQOdjcOCeLH5YrVqD5Q2Ib7aBY-twbvWN39GVB3MIs3Fn6ldWFX2VWzpc7EV3jm83xfxC8LvsIlD2WG0Nx5rN2INyulfhgD2ZL_Zy0wBw/w640-h520/IMG_3108.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtg3vg6kByLwZTiUKPJEOic-PtHY-t_BXTa88LTrWC5aPVqFUI5Sc-zZ8HKF6Gjx0wzkCTIcmtcZIfMg1PMqG_9JoW72lCBLT3C6g-UOV6QkZrGTVEyt0r_LF7l97PFmZo4Jw5G8S9aldBBL1-buq4GtyhNaIvRUH9qvAzfvV8yQTub8z7R5HwLCC9YA/s3522/IMG_3109.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3522" data-original-width="2936" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtg3vg6kByLwZTiUKPJEOic-PtHY-t_BXTa88LTrWC5aPVqFUI5Sc-zZ8HKF6Gjx0wzkCTIcmtcZIfMg1PMqG_9JoW72lCBLT3C6g-UOV6QkZrGTVEyt0r_LF7l97PFmZo4Jw5G8S9aldBBL1-buq4GtyhNaIvRUH9qvAzfvV8yQTub8z7R5HwLCC9YA/w534-h640/IMG_3109.JPG" width="534" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Chapter 3, ‘What We
Should All Look For’, is a dialogue between mother and child which begins,
‘But, mamma, can we all see devils?’ – ‘Certainly, Charlotte, if we take the
trouble’ – and ends with a lesson in which 'Mamma' demonstrates how to
raise a demon from a cauldron. <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Do you see those two round green orbs of light, Jane? ... Do not scream, Charlotte, for that would be very naughty,
and would perhaps frighten the little creatures, as they are very timid. By this time, children, you
may perceive the outline of an attenuated figure, resembling in some respects
that of a skeleton, though the ears, which you can now see moving, show that
this is not the case. Lift little Harry up, James, since he is too small to see
over the edge of the cauldron.’ </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE1ecmwC8fUC6qWJMh1zytH97xbJT8-sHaJ0xfNuoDxjtPg3Tj77GrZbDrMKbcGZ0_qCo7Mx35bpcxlj5T3fWlXbfZKempdJiQgJSVldy0-AITmpJzkLBPpNR-HceyaVkmqdBOgmoD-8us5pCGej_g6Vp4z_CyPDmzwPHGu0CXANzupekiUcJ0JizRWw/s4031/IMG_3111.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2403" data-original-width="4031" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE1ecmwC8fUC6qWJMh1zytH97xbJT8-sHaJ0xfNuoDxjtPg3Tj77GrZbDrMKbcGZ0_qCo7Mx35bpcxlj5T3fWlXbfZKempdJiQgJSVldy0-AITmpJzkLBPpNR-HceyaVkmqdBOgmoD-8us5pCGej_g6Vp4z_CyPDmzwPHGu0CXANzupekiUcJ0JizRWw/w640-h382/IMG_3111.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I
don’t know for sure but would guess that Chesterton probably wrote ‘Half-Hours
in Hades’ to amuse his fellow schoolboys, but years later he considered it
strong enough to deserve inclusion in his collection of stories and essays ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Coloured Lands’</i> (Sheed & Ward,
1938), and I think he was right. It is daring, funny and satirical, as when
‘mamma’ tells her child that the vicar, Dr. Brown, is the proud owner of a
varied collection of demons.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; tab-stops: 358.95pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">‘But, mamma’ [the child asks] ‘does Dr
Brown love his little pets?’ </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">– ‘I have reason to
believe that he is fondly attached to them. They are never out of his sight and
he has often said that he has gleaned many useful lessons from their habits. In
fact he says that he would not be the man he is but for them, and one glance at
Dr. Brown will make it clear this is no exaggeration.’ </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">You may agree with me by now that <i>Half-Hours in Hades</i> in some ways resembles C.S. Lewis’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Screwtape Letters </i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">w</span>hich, though written 50 years later, employs much the same kind of satire
and dead-pan humour. In Letter XV, for example, Screwtape describes two churches he considers suitable for the damnation of his nephew Wormwood’s
‘patient’: </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span>
</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I think I warned you before that if your patient can’t be kept out of the Church,
he ought at least to be violently attached to some party within it. I don’t
mean on really doctrinal issues; about those, the more luke-warm he is the
better. … The real fun is working up hatred between those who say ‘mass’ and
those who say ‘holy communion’ when neither party could possibly state the
difference between, say, Hooker’s doctrine and Thomas Aquinas’, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in any form that would hold water for five
minutes.</span></p>
<p></p><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">And in Lewis's introduction to the letters </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">– </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I have no intention of explaining how the
correspondence which I now offer to the public fell into my hands’ </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">–</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> his
pretence of their extraneous diabolic origin echoes the claim of Chesterton’s
‘professor’ to have gathered <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">his</i>
knowledge from the Authority on that subject. </span>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">But
did Lewis ever actually read <i>Half-Hours in Hades?</i> According to a letter written Sunday
July 21, 1940 to his brother Warnie, the idea of a correspondence between devils
occurred to him in church: <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 36pt; mso-add-space: auto; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Before the service was over – one could
wish these things came more seasonably – I was struck by an idea for a book which
I think might be both useful and entertaining. It would be called ‘As one Devil
to Another’ ... the idea would be to give all the psychology of temptation from
the other point of view...</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">His biographers
Roger Lancelyn Greene and Walter Hooper record that when Hooper once asked ‘if
there were any book which had given him the idea for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Screwtape Letters</i>,’ Lewis showed him <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">one I have never heard of, </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman</i> by Stephen McKenna (1922) in
which (as Lewis explained) the same moral inversion occurs, along with ‘the humour
which comes of speaking through a totally humourless person.’ He did not
mention Chesterton as any kind of inspiration. All the same, Lewis read many of Chesterton’s works, including his essays, and Christian apologetics such
as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Orthodoxy</i> (1908) and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Everlasting Man </i>(1925), praising the latter as ‘the best popular defence of the full Christian position I know.’
</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Though Chesterton was more than twenty years Lewis’s senior, the two men had plenty in
common. Both wrote popular novels and poetry as well as essays and theology, and both
filtered Christianity through the mesh of fiction. Chesterton’s
‘Father Brown’ detective tales are concerned with sin and repentence, justice, mercy and the
love of God. Lewis’s Narnia stories introduce the same concerns to a younger audience. Both men
were fluent, charismatic writers blessed with the ability to communicate, a sense of humour and the common touch. Chesterton delivered a series of radio lectures
for the BBC in the 1930s; Lewis did the same during the war years. As a writer and a public figure, </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Chesterton was i</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">mpossible to miss; and it is not unlikely that Lewis might have obtained a copy of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Coloured Lands</i> when it came out in
1938, and enjoyed <i>Half-Hours in Hades,</i> Chesterton’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">jeu d’esprit. </i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">If he had though, wouldn’t he have said? First, he might simply have forgotten: he was a busy man with a lot going on. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Screwtape Letters</i> were originally published one per week from May to
November 1941 in a High Church periodical, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Guardian</i> (not the newspaper, then known as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Manchester Guardian</i>); Lewis donated the £2 fee for each
installment to a fund for the widows of clergymen. He had begun his wartime
broadcasts on ‘Mere Christianity’ and was writing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Voyage to Venus (Perelandra)</i>, plus the lectures on Milton which
subsequently became <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Preface to Paradise
Lost</i>. Child evacuees had arrived at his Oxford home, The Kilns, and he was
still actively tutoring students. Second, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Screwtape Letters </i>has psychological depth
beyond the reach of the teenage Chesterton, and a structure and purpose
that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Half-Hours in Hades </i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">l</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">acks.</span> Writers borrow all the time; they cannot credit all their sources, and G.K.
Chesterton’s reputation did not depend on a piece of clever but ultimately inconsequential juvenilia. Did it once sow a seed in Lewis's imagination? We may never know, but the possibility is fascinating.</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> <br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">* Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate,<br />With head uplift above the wave, and eyes<br />That sparkling blazed; his other parts besides<br />Prone on the flood, extended long and large,<br />Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge<br />As whom the fables name of monstrous size,<br />Titanian or Earth-born, that warred on Jove,<br />Briareos or Typhon, whom the den<br />By ancient Tarsus held, or that sea-beast<br />Leviathan, which God of all his works<br />Created hugest that swim th’ ocean-stream.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><i>Paradise Lost, Book 1</i><br /><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond", "serif"; line-height: 150%;">Picture credits:</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 358.95pt;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: small;">All artwork by G.K. Chesterton. </span><br /></span></p>
<p></p>Katherine Langrishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12529700103932422873noreply@blogger.com0