Seeing as I got a few encouraging comments on the notes I did the other week I thought I could make it into an occasional "I'm-bored-and-I-have-nothing-better-to-do" feature. The kids are away for the weekend and I find myself in just such a position (though I'm not bored; I'm procrastinating), so how about we do this? I'm sure I'll come up with a pithy and imaginative title for such posts at some point...
I've created a new page at the top to make a list of all the articles I've written up so far, imaginatively titled "Notes." I'll also tag everything under that label. At the moment the list is in the order I've done them, but at some point as the it starts to get a little unwieldy I might organise them by subject instead. If you know of any articles that you think might be worth looking up, feel free to give me a prod, I'd really appreciate it!
Anyway, onto today's article.
Bendacht dee agus andee fort, a ingen (Táin Bó Cúalgne 2111, O' Rahilly)
Zeitschrift für Celtische Philologie Volume 51 (1999)
This is an article that proved useful when I was doing writing up some thoughts on the dé ocus an-dé or 'gods and un-gods' a while ago. The Irish in the title of the article translates as "A blessing of the gods and ungods on you, o woman!" and it comes from an episode in the Táin between Cú Chulainn and the Morrígan, where Cú Chulainn unwittingly heals the Morrígan with these very words.
Rankin argues that the formula and the context it's given in is significant, suggesting that it may be from an actual healing rite that may be of pre-Christian origin (although it doesn't come to us unchanged - 'Bendacht' is an Irish word that's been borrowed into the language from Latin, so it's clearly a Christian word). As far as that goes the idea is interesting - there are some actions and symbolism that are pointed out, like the cow have three teats, milk being involved, the formulaic blessings and responses given between the wounded and the healer...Rankin concludes: "We may have an archaic ritual in which one party contributes formulae and the other performative (and possibly verbal) responses. Also relevant is the profound ritual power of milk in ancient Irish culture. Milk as it flows may restore eloquence, and a trench filled with milk was said to have restored slain warriors." (118) It's not something that can be proved conclusively one way or another, but as these things go it certainly offers something to chew on. Maybe it's not a description of an archaic ritual as such but the symbolism and actions do seem to draw on plenty of cosmological ideas.
The main meat of the article discusses the meaning of the phrase itself, and in particular explores who the an-dee (an-dé, or in modern Irish, an-déithe) might actually be. Rankin points to other sources that mention the dé ocus an-dé, like Lebor Gabála Érenn, and casts a wider net and looks at possible avenues of comparative evidence too - the deva and adeva of the Rig Veda, and so on (I've tried to cover the main points in my discussion over on the 'Gods and Spirits' article so there's no point going into it here again).
Rankin also makes a note of the fairly neutral wording of the statement - no specific gods or ungods are mentioned - and he argues that this itself is deliberate. On the one hand, the statement is far more all encompassing and so allows an appeal to as many different kinds of supernatural beings as possible. On the other hand, it might reduce the risk of causing any offence to those who would otherwise get left out with more specific phrasing. Then again, there are formulas like tongu do dia tonges mo thúaith ("I swear by the gods my people swear by") that seem to deliberately avoid naming any names for other reasons. Words and names have power, and so perhaps the names of one's gods (or certain kinds of gods) were kept secret - to a certain extent at least. In theory, if your enemies know the names of your gods, they might appeal to them and get them on their side instead of yours. That idea in itself is fodder for a whole other article; after all, plenty of Irish deities seem to be referred to by epithets than actual names - the Dagda, the Morrígan, the Badb...
There's not a lot that can be said for certain here, but there's definitely a lot of food for thought as far as considering how it all might apply in a Gaelic Polytheist context. It's definitely an article worth reading.