A while back I reviewed a fairly newish book (published last year) titled Understanding Celtic Religion: Revisiting the Pagan Past, which I highly recommend. In the review I mentioned a particular article by Jacqueline Borsje titled "Celtic Spells and Counterspells," which is well worth a read.
I've just discovered that you can actually read the whole chapter online, so for those who're interested, have at it!
If that direct link doesn't work, try here. Just click on the pdf icon next to "Download" near the bottom of the page.
The article is mainly focused on Irish evidence, but it does bring in some comparative commentary, too, and the focus is on examining various examples of charms to try and untangle possible strands of pagan belief and practice. We begin (sort of, ish) with a discussion of the sugere mammellas or "nipple-sucking" episode that Patrick described in his Confessio, a rite of apparently pagan origin which he therefore refused to take part in. Evidence of possible pagan rites as described by Columba then follow, which leads into a discussion of the lorica ("breastplate") type prayers of protection.
Also included in the article is a discussion of a "spell" or charm attributed to St Brigit, which was meant to help a husband keep his wife (who didn't love him), the instructions for which include sprinkling of water over the marriage bed (which to me is suggestive of a saining ceremony of sorts). There's also a spell for impotence (with a translation given), which is rather ambiguous in nature – is it for causing or curing the problem? This in itself is pretty fascinating stuff, but it then leads into a discussion on the use of "words of power" – the use of seemingly gibberish or extremely obscure words or phrases to give an air of mysticalness etc. All in all you'll find a lot of food for thought here, both in terms of the kind of forms these charms could take, as well as what it can tell us about pre-Christian belief.
Showing posts with label articles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label articles. Show all posts
Sunday, 4 September 2016
Friday, 22 April 2016
New video! New(ish) article! Daily Rites in Gaelic Polytheism
So as we announced over on the Gaol Naofa site last week (yes I'm way behind on things...), we've got a new video out:
And also a new (or at least improved) Daily Rites article to accompany it, which now has a number of prayers offered in both Gaelic and English translation. To be honest, there was no particular rhyme or reason in choosing to do this particular subject right now, aside from the fact that it seemed like a good idea to continue the more practical theme like our last video on Offerings in Gaelic Polytheism had.
I'm really not sure when the original Daily Rites article was written (I'm pretty sure it was before my time as a member of the GN council), but for the sake of those who prefer the original prayers given there, we've archived that version of the article on the site, and it's cross-referenced to the new version, too. Kathryn took charge of the article's overhaul of the piece, and I think the contrast between the prayers given in the original version, and the ones that Kathryn chose to adapt from the Carmina Gadelica in the new version, gives a good contrast and illustration of how different people have different styles.
When I was first starting to explore CR and then Gaelic Polytheism specifically, the idea of daily prayers seemed kind of restrictive and off-putting. Coming from a completely secular background it was a concept that was alien to me, and it seemed kind of dull... Wouldn't it get boring and become rote? But I kept coming back to the idea for reasons I've never really fully understood, aside from the undeniable urge that I should, and eventually I started looking at the kinds of prayers that were out there, that maybe I could adapt or work with in coming up with some of my own. After a bit of fiddling around I found a routine that felt like it was a good fit, and since I started I've not stopped, really. It was a gradual process as I figured things out, but now I say the same prayers every day (or night...) – at the very least I will pray each night, just as I've got into bed and I'm lying down, since that's most comfortable for me – and it's become an integral part of my bedtime routine now. Even when I'm absolutely exhausted I find it hard to get to sleep until I've said them now.
I think it's important that the prayers we say as part of our practice have meaning to us, and they flow from the heart. My preference is for the more traditional, like the ones we've given in the new article, and the ones I have over on Tairis, but I also tend to add in prayers of my own making, too – off the cuff prayers that aren't poetic, perhaps, but they're no less heartfelt or meaningful. But the traditional types of prayers – the same words I say over and over again from year to year – form the barebones of my daily routine.
I'm sure the idea of a daily routine of prayer doesn't appeal to some people and I don't think it's the only way things should or can be done. For one, there are simple traditions and customs that can become a part of your day, too... It doesn't make anyone lesser, or greater, just because of what they do or don't do, though. Religion isn't a competition or a pissing contest, you know? Or it shouldn't be. I'm sure a lot of people do maintain a daily routine of some sort, even if it doesn't follow a particular outline or isn't even a conscious thing. Maybe somedays or most days the sum total is little more than a mental "hey."
What matters is that it works for the individual, and that – at its core – it helps maintain that connection with An Trì Naomh. It's about being mindful of who you are, who you honour. I've seen some people say they try to keep up a daily routine of some sort but somedays, for whatever reason, it just doesn't happen and then there's a sense of guilt or failure, and it becomes hard to get back into the routine because the sense of whatever starts to snowball... But we're only human, after all. We all have our limits and if it happens, it's OK. If it keeps happening, maybe it's better to scale things back a bit and go easier; don't bite off more than you can chew. At the end of the day... Just do you.
And also a new (or at least improved) Daily Rites article to accompany it, which now has a number of prayers offered in both Gaelic and English translation. To be honest, there was no particular rhyme or reason in choosing to do this particular subject right now, aside from the fact that it seemed like a good idea to continue the more practical theme like our last video on Offerings in Gaelic Polytheism had.
I'm really not sure when the original Daily Rites article was written (I'm pretty sure it was before my time as a member of the GN council), but for the sake of those who prefer the original prayers given there, we've archived that version of the article on the site, and it's cross-referenced to the new version, too. Kathryn took charge of the article's overhaul of the piece, and I think the contrast between the prayers given in the original version, and the ones that Kathryn chose to adapt from the Carmina Gadelica in the new version, gives a good contrast and illustration of how different people have different styles.
When I was first starting to explore CR and then Gaelic Polytheism specifically, the idea of daily prayers seemed kind of restrictive and off-putting. Coming from a completely secular background it was a concept that was alien to me, and it seemed kind of dull... Wouldn't it get boring and become rote? But I kept coming back to the idea for reasons I've never really fully understood, aside from the undeniable urge that I should, and eventually I started looking at the kinds of prayers that were out there, that maybe I could adapt or work with in coming up with some of my own. After a bit of fiddling around I found a routine that felt like it was a good fit, and since I started I've not stopped, really. It was a gradual process as I figured things out, but now I say the same prayers every day (or night...) – at the very least I will pray each night, just as I've got into bed and I'm lying down, since that's most comfortable for me – and it's become an integral part of my bedtime routine now. Even when I'm absolutely exhausted I find it hard to get to sleep until I've said them now.
I think it's important that the prayers we say as part of our practice have meaning to us, and they flow from the heart. My preference is for the more traditional, like the ones we've given in the new article, and the ones I have over on Tairis, but I also tend to add in prayers of my own making, too – off the cuff prayers that aren't poetic, perhaps, but they're no less heartfelt or meaningful. But the traditional types of prayers – the same words I say over and over again from year to year – form the barebones of my daily routine.
I'm sure the idea of a daily routine of prayer doesn't appeal to some people and I don't think it's the only way things should or can be done. For one, there are simple traditions and customs that can become a part of your day, too... It doesn't make anyone lesser, or greater, just because of what they do or don't do, though. Religion isn't a competition or a pissing contest, you know? Or it shouldn't be. I'm sure a lot of people do maintain a daily routine of some sort, even if it doesn't follow a particular outline or isn't even a conscious thing. Maybe somedays or most days the sum total is little more than a mental "hey."
What matters is that it works for the individual, and that – at its core – it helps maintain that connection with An Trì Naomh. It's about being mindful of who you are, who you honour. I've seen some people say they try to keep up a daily routine of some sort but somedays, for whatever reason, it just doesn't happen and then there's a sense of guilt or failure, and it becomes hard to get back into the routine because the sense of whatever starts to snowball... But we're only human, after all. We all have our limits and if it happens, it's OK. If it keeps happening, maybe it's better to scale things back a bit and go easier; don't bite off more than you can chew. At the end of the day... Just do you.
Wednesday, 2 September 2015
Review: Studies in Irish Mythology
Before I get into the review of Grigory Bondarenko's book (AKA my new favourite book, ever), I'll just make a note of the new page I've created where all the book reviews I've done here on the blog are listed and linked to, arranged by subject matter.
Studies in Irish Mythology
Grigory Bondarenko
As I noted when I blogged about my trip to the library, where I picked this book up along with a bunch of others, this one is a compilation of sixteen articles and essays written by Bondarenko over the course of around ten years. You can find some of the articles compiled in this volume freely available online, so if you want a taster of what you'll be getting, here they are:
But don't let the availability of these articles put you off from investing in getting the book for your probably overcrowded shelves; it's well worth it, and I'll definitely be adding it to mine on a permanent basis. You'll have to buy directly from the publisher, from the looks of it, but it's reasonably priced compared to a lot of academic books these days.
Although focusing on Irish mythology, most of the chapters take a rather comparative approach, making comparisons with Slavic or Russian myth in some places, or drawing on Indo-European, Gaulish or Welsh evidence to help support an argument in others. It's something that's easy to over-do (see, for example, the Rees brothers' Celtic Heritage) but I think here, for the most part, the comparative approach genuinely complements what Bondarenko is trying to do, rather than detracts from it. Many of the chapters deal with various aspects of cosmology and attempt to dig out evidence of pre-Christian ritual or belief, so a comparative approach can be helpful in figuring out what we should be looking for, for one.
It's this cosmological and pre-Christian stuff that I'm most interested in (in case you hadn't guessed), and I found a number of the chapters to be extremely illuminating. There's an article on 'The migration of the soul in Early Irish tales,' (link above) which is especially good, and I think it will definitely be of interest to anyone looking for a rundown of the evidence and the different ways that the evidence has been approached and interpreted. There's also a bit of a tangent about the word carddes, which can be interpreted as being 'a friendly agreement,' and which is found in relation to the agreement of peace between the Milesians and the Tuatha Dé Danann mentioned in De Gabail in t-Sida. That's also touched on in an earlier chapter, which is also worth a read.
The final chapter, 'Fintan mac Bóchra: Irish synthetic history revisited,' makes a good companion piece to the article on the migration of souls, since it deals with Fintan and Tuán mac Cairell, both of whom are said to have transformed into different kinds of animals as a way of surviving many thousands of years, and who are often cited as examples for supporting evidence of the belief in metempsychosis (the transmigration of the soul, which can include and encompass reincarnation). Fintan is said to have been the only person to have survived the Flood, who then lived for thousands of years until he related the history of Ireland to an audience (and then died), and Bondarenko gives an overview of the possible meanings of his name and the various interpretations academics have made over the years in terms of who, or what, Fintan is – a god, an example of a "primordial man," and so on. All of this is especially interesting if you have a thing for cosmogony/creation myths, and if that's not enough there's also some meaty stuff on the concept of silence or "dumbness" in relation to revelation and obtaining hidden knowledge, and possible hints of its use in ritual.
Some of the earlier chapters deal with various aspects of the tale Airne Fíngein ('Fíngen's Vigil'), which relates the events surrounding the birth of Conn Cétchatach, one of Ireland's most reknowned legendary kings. Here again we have some good stuff to mull over – aspects of "ideal kingship" in Ireland, the possible meaning of Conn's name and his epithet "Cétchathach," usually interpreted as "Conn of the Hundred Battles," but, as Bondarenko notes, the epithet could mean "a hundred treaties," or perhaps even "first-warlike." Conn, meanwhile, can have connotations of "protuberance, boss, chief, head," or "sense, reason." At Conn's birth, Airne Fíngein mentions the spontaneous appearance of the five royal roads of Ireland, and the meaning and symbolism of these are explored in a chapter of their own, which also appears in the Celtic Cosmology book I reviewed not too long ago.
As the article on 'The Case of Five Directions' notes, fives are a common grouping in Irish myth – five royal roads, five directions, five sacred trees (bile), and so on. A couple of chapters look at various aspects relating to the sacred trees of Ireland, including one on 'The alliterative poem Eó Rossa from the Dindshenchas.' This is a poem that describes the tree (possibly a yew), and it includes some intriguing lines, including one that calls the tree "dor nime/door of heaven," which has been interpreted in some CR circles as being evidence that the bile spans the three realms. Bondarenko gives a detailed and fascinating analysis of many of the lines from the poem, including this one (noting the possible Biblical references it makes), and it makes for a thought-provoking read.
One of the later chapters, 'Goidelic Hydronyms in Ptolemy's Geography: Myth Behind the Name,' is an article that puts the comaparative approach that Bondarenko favours to particular good use. This one was of especial interest for the discussion of Boann and her relation to a river name Ptolemy notes that's likely to correspond with the Boyne river, and Bondarenko brings in the comparative evidence to explore the meaning of the name, mentioning Indo-European theories, Gaulish evidence of similar names, as well as the Dindshenchas stories relating to Boann (and similar tales, like that of Shannon/Sinann), in discussing the possibilities. Although Bondarenko makes his own views clear, he makes an effort to cover different angles and other approaches, so it's easy to make your own mind up or hunt up those other academics while you chew on it.
I'll finish off with mentioning one final article that stood out for me – another one on a Dindshenchas poem, but this time it's a translation of a rosc poem that hasn't been translated before. Both Edward Gwynn and Whitley Stokes, who translated the bulk of the Dindshenchas between them, left this one out, apparently because of the difficult and obscure nature of the language, and they didn't even mention it (except for a brief reference to it by Stokes in his own privately printed compilation of his translations). This fact in itself is interesting to me, and Bondarenko goes on to offer a translation and analysis of the poem, which centres around five heroes who must defend themselves from "phantoms, ancient armies" from the Otherworld, who come out to attack them during the Feast of Tara at Samhain. Again, it links in with a number of details described in Airne Fíngein, starting with mention of the five royal roads that appeared at the birth of Conn.
There's so much more here besides the few tidbits I've covered so far, and it really does make for a good read. I can't say I don't have my disagreements, or questions, here or there, and I can't say every single chapter was of as much interest to me as the ones I've mentioned above, but there's nothing here that makes me want to throw the book at the nearest wall and then stomp on it (I do quibble and grumble over the questionable use of "shaman/shamanism" in the first few chapters, though). Even where I wasn't so interested in the subject being discussed, I can say that at least I learned something new.
This isn't a book that I'd recommend for a total noob; it's certainly a hefty and dense read that isn't aimed at a general, populist audience, and I think it would really benefit from being approached with an already decent foundation of knowledge with regards to Irish mythology and the study of it. As academic works go, the language used is fairly accessible – I don't think you'll be overwhelmed by jargon – but it's the nature of the beast that these things can be rather dry, especially if it's not your usual kind of bedtime reading.
If you feel like you've read all the 101 books you can stomach and you're looking for something with more depth to it, then I'd say definitely add this to your wish list. If you're interested in all things Irish cosmology then I'd suggest you have done with it and just order a copy now... And if you take my advice then I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
Studies in Irish Mythology
Grigory Bondarenko
As I noted when I blogged about my trip to the library, where I picked this book up along with a bunch of others, this one is a compilation of sixteen articles and essays written by Bondarenko over the course of around ten years. You can find some of the articles compiled in this volume freely available online, so if you want a taster of what you'll be getting, here they are:
- Cú Roí and Syvatogor: A Study in Cthonic
- Autochthons and Otherworlds in Celtic and Slavic
- The Dindshenchas of Irarus: the king, the druid and the probable tree
- The King in Exile in Airne Fíngein: Power and Pursuit in Early Irish Literature
- Conn Cétchathach and the Image of Ideal Kingship in Early Medieval Ireland
- Oral Past and Written Present in 'The Finding of the Táin'
- The Migration of the Soul in Early Irish Tales (different title in pdf)
But don't let the availability of these articles put you off from investing in getting the book for your probably overcrowded shelves; it's well worth it, and I'll definitely be adding it to mine on a permanent basis. You'll have to buy directly from the publisher, from the looks of it, but it's reasonably priced compared to a lot of academic books these days.
Although focusing on Irish mythology, most of the chapters take a rather comparative approach, making comparisons with Slavic or Russian myth in some places, or drawing on Indo-European, Gaulish or Welsh evidence to help support an argument in others. It's something that's easy to over-do (see, for example, the Rees brothers' Celtic Heritage) but I think here, for the most part, the comparative approach genuinely complements what Bondarenko is trying to do, rather than detracts from it. Many of the chapters deal with various aspects of cosmology and attempt to dig out evidence of pre-Christian ritual or belief, so a comparative approach can be helpful in figuring out what we should be looking for, for one.
It's this cosmological and pre-Christian stuff that I'm most interested in (in case you hadn't guessed), and I found a number of the chapters to be extremely illuminating. There's an article on 'The migration of the soul in Early Irish tales,' (link above) which is especially good, and I think it will definitely be of interest to anyone looking for a rundown of the evidence and the different ways that the evidence has been approached and interpreted. There's also a bit of a tangent about the word carddes, which can be interpreted as being 'a friendly agreement,' and which is found in relation to the agreement of peace between the Milesians and the Tuatha Dé Danann mentioned in De Gabail in t-Sida. That's also touched on in an earlier chapter, which is also worth a read.
The final chapter, 'Fintan mac Bóchra: Irish synthetic history revisited,' makes a good companion piece to the article on the migration of souls, since it deals with Fintan and Tuán mac Cairell, both of whom are said to have transformed into different kinds of animals as a way of surviving many thousands of years, and who are often cited as examples for supporting evidence of the belief in metempsychosis (the transmigration of the soul, which can include and encompass reincarnation). Fintan is said to have been the only person to have survived the Flood, who then lived for thousands of years until he related the history of Ireland to an audience (and then died), and Bondarenko gives an overview of the possible meanings of his name and the various interpretations academics have made over the years in terms of who, or what, Fintan is – a god, an example of a "primordial man," and so on. All of this is especially interesting if you have a thing for cosmogony/creation myths, and if that's not enough there's also some meaty stuff on the concept of silence or "dumbness" in relation to revelation and obtaining hidden knowledge, and possible hints of its use in ritual.
Some of the earlier chapters deal with various aspects of the tale Airne Fíngein ('Fíngen's Vigil'), which relates the events surrounding the birth of Conn Cétchatach, one of Ireland's most reknowned legendary kings. Here again we have some good stuff to mull over – aspects of "ideal kingship" in Ireland, the possible meaning of Conn's name and his epithet "Cétchathach," usually interpreted as "Conn of the Hundred Battles," but, as Bondarenko notes, the epithet could mean "a hundred treaties," or perhaps even "first-warlike." Conn, meanwhile, can have connotations of "protuberance, boss, chief, head," or "sense, reason." At Conn's birth, Airne Fíngein mentions the spontaneous appearance of the five royal roads of Ireland, and the meaning and symbolism of these are explored in a chapter of their own, which also appears in the Celtic Cosmology book I reviewed not too long ago.
As the article on 'The Case of Five Directions' notes, fives are a common grouping in Irish myth – five royal roads, five directions, five sacred trees (bile), and so on. A couple of chapters look at various aspects relating to the sacred trees of Ireland, including one on 'The alliterative poem Eó Rossa from the Dindshenchas.' This is a poem that describes the tree (possibly a yew), and it includes some intriguing lines, including one that calls the tree "dor nime/door of heaven," which has been interpreted in some CR circles as being evidence that the bile spans the three realms. Bondarenko gives a detailed and fascinating analysis of many of the lines from the poem, including this one (noting the possible Biblical references it makes), and it makes for a thought-provoking read.
One of the later chapters, 'Goidelic Hydronyms in Ptolemy's Geography: Myth Behind the Name,' is an article that puts the comaparative approach that Bondarenko favours to particular good use. This one was of especial interest for the discussion of Boann and her relation to a river name Ptolemy notes that's likely to correspond with the Boyne river, and Bondarenko brings in the comparative evidence to explore the meaning of the name, mentioning Indo-European theories, Gaulish evidence of similar names, as well as the Dindshenchas stories relating to Boann (and similar tales, like that of Shannon/Sinann), in discussing the possibilities. Although Bondarenko makes his own views clear, he makes an effort to cover different angles and other approaches, so it's easy to make your own mind up or hunt up those other academics while you chew on it.
I'll finish off with mentioning one final article that stood out for me – another one on a Dindshenchas poem, but this time it's a translation of a rosc poem that hasn't been translated before. Both Edward Gwynn and Whitley Stokes, who translated the bulk of the Dindshenchas between them, left this one out, apparently because of the difficult and obscure nature of the language, and they didn't even mention it (except for a brief reference to it by Stokes in his own privately printed compilation of his translations). This fact in itself is interesting to me, and Bondarenko goes on to offer a translation and analysis of the poem, which centres around five heroes who must defend themselves from "phantoms, ancient armies" from the Otherworld, who come out to attack them during the Feast of Tara at Samhain. Again, it links in with a number of details described in Airne Fíngein, starting with mention of the five royal roads that appeared at the birth of Conn.
There's so much more here besides the few tidbits I've covered so far, and it really does make for a good read. I can't say I don't have my disagreements, or questions, here or there, and I can't say every single chapter was of as much interest to me as the ones I've mentioned above, but there's nothing here that makes me want to throw the book at the nearest wall and then stomp on it (I do quibble and grumble over the questionable use of "shaman/shamanism" in the first few chapters, though). Even where I wasn't so interested in the subject being discussed, I can say that at least I learned something new.
This isn't a book that I'd recommend for a total noob; it's certainly a hefty and dense read that isn't aimed at a general, populist audience, and I think it would really benefit from being approached with an already decent foundation of knowledge with regards to Irish mythology and the study of it. As academic works go, the language used is fairly accessible – I don't think you'll be overwhelmed by jargon – but it's the nature of the beast that these things can be rather dry, especially if it's not your usual kind of bedtime reading.
If you feel like you've read all the 101 books you can stomach and you're looking for something with more depth to it, then I'd say definitely add this to your wish list. If you're interested in all things Irish cosmology then I'd suggest you have done with it and just order a copy now... And if you take my advice then I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
Sunday, 19 April 2015
Links and things for Bealltainn...
Now that Bealltainn is officially less than two weeks away, I thought I'd do a round up of some bits and pieces that you might find useful if you're looking for some inspiration, or an idea of what the hell it is!
First off, last year I did a video for Gaol Naofa's Youtube channel that gives a good introduction:
And if you want to do some reading for a more in-depth view then you might find the two-parter I did on Tairis a while ago useful:
There's also a piece on Celebrating Bealltainn, and a short article on Rowan and Red Threads with a ritual for hanging the charms as well.
Over on Gaol Naofa, there are some songs and ideas for Bealltainn crafts. The songs include:
The latter link is a churning song (with links to a few others), since churning butter at Bealltainn is an important activity. Bannocks and caudle also form an important part of the celebrations (in Scotland), and you can find more information, along with some good reads about Irish customs, at the following links:
There's also a wealth of poetry relating to the coming of summer that can provide inspiration and make a nice addition to celebrations and devotions:
First off, last year I did a video for Gaol Naofa's Youtube channel that gives a good introduction:
And if you want to do some reading for a more in-depth view then you might find the two-parter I did on Tairis a while ago useful:
There's also a piece on Celebrating Bealltainn, and a short article on Rowan and Red Threads with a ritual for hanging the charms as well.
Over on Gaol Naofa, there are some songs and ideas for Bealltainn crafts. The songs include:
The latter link is a churning song (with links to a few others), since churning butter at Bealltainn is an important activity. Bannocks and caudle also form an important part of the celebrations (in Scotland), and you can find more information, along with some good reads about Irish customs, at the following links:
- Beltane Bannocks at the Carmichael Watson Project
- Festival Bannocks and Caudle
- Caudle Recipe
- Traditional May Day Customs
There's also a wealth of poetry relating to the coming of summer that can provide inspiration and make a nice addition to celebrations and devotions:
- Laa Boaldyn
- Summer Has Come
- Song of Summer
- In Praise of May
- Seasonal Quatrain: Bealtaine
- The Old Woman of Lia Nothain
Sunday, 2 February 2014
New Article – Children and Family in Gaelic Polytheism
So I've posted this in a few places and might as well post it here, too:
Gaol Naofa is proud to present our latest article for the website, this time focusing on Children and Family in Gaelic Polytheism.
Although the main purpose of the article is to give parents ideas on how to include children in a family-based Gaelic Polytheist practice, we hope it will also prove useful for individuals – whether youth or adults – who are new to GP, as well as to other sorts of multigenerational spiritual communities.
The basics of belief and practice are broken down into their various elements, and practical ideas and examples of simple prayers are given that a child or beginner should be able to get to grips with easily enough.
Read more...
Saturday, 20 July 2013
Notes: Fosterage: Child-Rearing in Medieval Ireland
It's hot and I'm sunburnt. How about some notes?
Fosterage: Child-Rearing in Medieval Ireland
Bronagh Ní Chonaill
History Ireland Vol. 5 (1997)
This is a good article to read over if you're looking for a decent overview of how fosterage typically worked in early medieval Ireland and (arguably) before then as well, as it gives a good run down of how it worked under a variety of different circumstances – i.e. depending on your social status. There are also some incidental tidbits about how children were brought up during this time, the kinds of games they played, and so on, which offer some interesting points to ponder too.
Fosterage generally started at around the age of seven, though evidence of wet-nursing being commonplace suggests that it could start much earlier. Legally, seven was the age at which a child was determined to be capable of "learning and reason," and the foster-family would be in charge of the child's education and training for their future livelihood. Higher status children would learn things befitting someone of their rank, with girls learning fine embroidery skills and needlework, while boys learned about which way pointy end of a sword should go, and games of intellect like those "resembling draughts and chess." Horse riding could be taught if the child's family provided a horse but it wasn't necessary otherwise. Lower status boys would learn various aspects of manual labour and farming skills necessary to run their own households, while girls would learn cooking, grinding corn with a quern, weaving and herding.
The status of the child determined the kind of foods they were entitled to eat, and the colours of clothing they should wear. All children ate porridge, for example, but the flavours they were entitled to have added to it depended on their rank. Royal children could have honey with a porridge made of milk with wheat added; high ranking non-royals could have butter with a milk porridge, and everyone else could have salted porridge made with water. Meanwhile, only royal children could wear blue or purple, while aristocratic children could wear red, green and brown, and silver or gold brooches as befitted their status. Free-born children could wear black, yellow, white and "blay-coloured" clothes.
The foster-family was paid for their troubles, and the amount due to them depended again on the status of the child. Payment was usually in the form of cattle and clothing, and higher status children came with a higher fosterage fee than those of a lower status, reflecting the fact that they had greater entitlements. Because girls tended to come with a larger retinue in tow than boys did (probably because they needed more protection – protecting their reputation more than anything), the price for girls was always higher than that of a boy of the same status.
Pet dogs or cats are mentioned in legal texts, and games mentioned include hurley, wrestling, field games, piggy back games, and balls and hoops. One of the more interesting references, from a reminiscing poet, is to children imitating inauguration rites:
Some children were fostered out to several different families, especially children of higher status who were considered to be "desirable" in some way. Since fosterage was a good way of maintaining or creating social and political ties between families or even countries, children who were from politically important or influential families might be fostered out to several different families over the years for the benefit of the child's family as well as the foster-families. The foster-relationship would last as long as both sides had agreed, unless there were certain circumstances that meant it was necessary to cut the arrangement short – if the child was diseased or uncontrollable, say. Girls usually left fosterage at an earlier age than boys – at around fourteen. At that point they might return to their families, or more likely they were married off. Boys could remain in fosterage up until seventeen years of age, and at that point were legally responsible for their own crimes.
In addition to receiving a foster-fee, fosterage had lasting advantages to the foster-families. It created lasting ties between the two families, and in their later years the foster-parents were entitled to claim aid or maintenance from their foster-children, providing a kind of pension plan. It was these kind of advantages that saw the institution last for so long in Ireland – into the seventeenth century, certainly. On top of all that, in an often violent society, fosterage and the ties that bound certain families together helped to foster at least some sense of social and political stability. It might not have guaranteed it, but it certainly encouraged it.
Fosterage: Child-Rearing in Medieval Ireland
Bronagh Ní Chonaill
History Ireland Vol. 5 (1997)
This is a good article to read over if you're looking for a decent overview of how fosterage typically worked in early medieval Ireland and (arguably) before then as well, as it gives a good run down of how it worked under a variety of different circumstances – i.e. depending on your social status. There are also some incidental tidbits about how children were brought up during this time, the kinds of games they played, and so on, which offer some interesting points to ponder too.
Fosterage generally started at around the age of seven, though evidence of wet-nursing being commonplace suggests that it could start much earlier. Legally, seven was the age at which a child was determined to be capable of "learning and reason," and the foster-family would be in charge of the child's education and training for their future livelihood. Higher status children would learn things befitting someone of their rank, with girls learning fine embroidery skills and needlework, while boys learned about which way pointy end of a sword should go, and games of intellect like those "resembling draughts and chess." Horse riding could be taught if the child's family provided a horse but it wasn't necessary otherwise. Lower status boys would learn various aspects of manual labour and farming skills necessary to run their own households, while girls would learn cooking, grinding corn with a quern, weaving and herding.
The status of the child determined the kind of foods they were entitled to eat, and the colours of clothing they should wear. All children ate porridge, for example, but the flavours they were entitled to have added to it depended on their rank. Royal children could have honey with a porridge made of milk with wheat added; high ranking non-royals could have butter with a milk porridge, and everyone else could have salted porridge made with water. Meanwhile, only royal children could wear blue or purple, while aristocratic children could wear red, green and brown, and silver or gold brooches as befitted their status. Free-born children could wear black, yellow, white and "blay-coloured" clothes.
The foster-family was paid for their troubles, and the amount due to them depended again on the status of the child. Payment was usually in the form of cattle and clothing, and higher status children came with a higher fosterage fee than those of a lower status, reflecting the fact that they had greater entitlements. Because girls tended to come with a larger retinue in tow than boys did (probably because they needed more protection – protecting their reputation more than anything), the price for girls was always higher than that of a boy of the same status.
Pet dogs or cats are mentioned in legal texts, and games mentioned include hurley, wrestling, field games, piggy back games, and balls and hoops. One of the more interesting references, from a reminiscing poet, is to children imitating inauguration rites:
"...They would play at an imitation of an inauguration or homage ceremony, where a child was placed on a height with those remaining marching around him three times."The laws deal with who has rights and responsibilities when a child in fosterage either commits or is subject to a crime. The foster-father was usually responsible for a foster-child's crimes, unless he went to the child's natural father and proclaimed the child's criminal tendencies. If the foster-father was deemed to not be at fault for the child's behaviour, then the natural father would take on the responsibilities for the crimes and any necessary reparations (which were usually financial). If the father refused to pay for the crimes then the foster-family could simply return the child to the natural family and so protect themselves from further hassles. Otherwise, the foster-father could be held responsible for the child's future crimes, even for serious crimes like homicide. The foster-father could discipline the foster-child, but in no circumstances could they leave a blemish so there were tough limits to what they could do and the extremes they could go to. However, if a child was injured and received compensation for it, the foster-father was entitled to one-third of it unless the injury was caused by the foster-family's own negligence; then they had to compensate the child's natural family.(p30)
Some children were fostered out to several different families, especially children of higher status who were considered to be "desirable" in some way. Since fosterage was a good way of maintaining or creating social and political ties between families or even countries, children who were from politically important or influential families might be fostered out to several different families over the years for the benefit of the child's family as well as the foster-families. The foster-relationship would last as long as both sides had agreed, unless there were certain circumstances that meant it was necessary to cut the arrangement short – if the child was diseased or uncontrollable, say. Girls usually left fosterage at an earlier age than boys – at around fourteen. At that point they might return to their families, or more likely they were married off. Boys could remain in fosterage up until seventeen years of age, and at that point were legally responsible for their own crimes.
In addition to receiving a foster-fee, fosterage had lasting advantages to the foster-families. It created lasting ties between the two families, and in their later years the foster-parents were entitled to claim aid or maintenance from their foster-children, providing a kind of pension plan. It was these kind of advantages that saw the institution last for so long in Ireland – into the seventeenth century, certainly. On top of all that, in an often violent society, fosterage and the ties that bound certain families together helped to foster at least some sense of social and political stability. It might not have guaranteed it, but it certainly encouraged it.
Friday, 10 May 2013
Notes: The Story of the Finding of Cashel
Myles Dillon
Ériu 16 (1952)
This probably isn't a particularly well-known tale, but there's one thing of interest in here in particular that I thought was worth noting. The tale is pretty short and Dillon provides the original Irish and a translation of it with a goodly amount of preamble and notations. It's one of the notes that's of special interest (to me) in particular, but the tale also has a few other bits and pieces that are worth mentioning too.
The tale is set in the fourth century A.D. and centres on the founding of Cashel, the political centre of the Munster kings, by Conall Corc. Dillon notes that while it's difficult to tell how much of the legend might be based on kernels of historical fact, the tale itself seems to bear genuinely archaic hallmarks – though somewhat corrupted.
The tale begins in autumn, with two swineherds taking their pigs out to snuffle up the abundance of acorns that are available. They fall into a deep sleep for three days and three nights, during which they see a man, Corc, being blessed by an angel. They are shown a vision of all the future kings of Munster and are told how long each king will reign, and the kinds of peace and prosperity that each reign will usher in. Upon waking, one of the swineherds, Duirdriu, goes to his king and tells him of the vision he received, and asks for the place where he received the vision to be given to him; it's implied that the vision means Duirdriu has the right to it, and so the king agrees. Conall Corc buys the land off Duirdriu, and so Cashel is founded and thus begins a great dynasty of kings.
After a list of kings is given, the tale switches to the other swineherd, Cuirirán, who goes into a trance and gives the blessing of the kings of Cashel that he heard in a dream. Dillon doesn't give a translation, noting that the rhetoric is obscure, but the king replies: 'May it be a truth that is confirmed! May it be a power that is enforced!'
The tale then changes scene, with the two swineherds having another vision again after hearing "the sweetest music in the wold on the ridge beside them." They are shown the coming of Patrick, and an angel tells them that, 'He who shall first kindle fire here, entrust the kingship of Munster to him.' Lighting a fire is a traditional Irish way of claiming land as your own so that makes sense; here the idea is broadened to a political claim over the land as well.
Diurdriu goes to Conall and tells him of his vision, and that he had seen that Conall would be the first to kindle the fire. A druid is summoned by Conall, who makes a "druidic divination" for three days and three nights, to confirm that everything was as Diurdriu had said, and that fortune would be his. The druid tells Conall that Diurdriu is correct, and so Conall lays his claim. The tale finishes with the tributes due to the Cashel kings, and mentions the coming of Patrick, who baptised the men of Munster.
The bit of interest is the blessing that the two swineherds are party to near the beginning of the tale, which includes imagery of the three realms: "Blessing of heaven, cloud-blessing..." It's lengthy and is clearly Christian as its presented in the text, but as Dillon notes a similar version can be found in the Book of Rights, where it's attributed to St Patrick himself, as well as another, later version, found in Betha Pátraic. Dillon also notes that:
"Apart from the pious invocation at the end, it is, however, rather pagan than Christian in expression, and bears the mark of antiquity. The heptasyllabic metre common in the earliest law-tracts is here apparent, and a slight revision restores it in the whole of the second clause:
Bendacht nime nél-bendacht
Bendacht toraid tír-bendacht
Bendacht mara iasc-bendacht
Bendacht gréine grád-bendacht
Bendacht ésca ord-bendacht
Bendacht latha lón-bendacht
Bendacht daithin drúcht-bendacht
Bendacht gaíse gal-bendacht
Bendacht aurith ar-bendacht
Arub ceantaib ciallatar."
I'd say FEAR MY AWESOME DICTIONARY SKILLS, but after checking through to attempt a translation I got as far as this:
Blessing of heaven, cloud-blessing
Blessing of earth, fruit-blessing
Blessing of sea, fish-blessing
Blessing of sun, rank-blessing
Blessing of moon, honour-blessing
Blessing of ale, food-blessing
Blessing of light, dew-blessing
Blessing of wisdom, valour-blessing
Blessing of ...., plough-blessing
...........
I think "ardour" could work in place of valour, too. But with the final two lines we run into difficulties and I turned to Google in hopes of help and found this. Which would've saved a bit of time. But at least far greater brains than I are stumped too. The last line, however, could possibly mean "(it is) on their heads that they are meant." But who knows. Neither Dillon nor eDIL are helpful.
Either way, the fact that several versions of the blessing exist, and the metre is typical of the earliest law tracts, as Dillon notes, does suggest that it's been adopted into a Christian context and tweaked as it seemed appropriate for the occasion, rather than being a product of it. I think it's also striking that almost the exact same kind of imagery can be found in more than a few prayers in the Carmina Gadelica.
Sunday, 24 February 2013
Notes: Continuity and Adaptation in Legends of Cailleach Bhéarra
Seeing as JSTOR is giving the public access to a wider portion of its catalogue now, I figured doing these occasional notes is a bit more useful to readers. I'm listing the articles covered so far on a page here, and I've added in a link to any of the articles that might be available on JSTOR if any of them happen to pique your interest. Unfortunately only two of them that I've done so far are accessible through JSTOR, but this next summary is one of the first ones I stuck on my shelf after browsing around and trying to think what to pick first. This is one I've been after for ages and I can foresee myself picking my way through pretty much the rest of this journal given half a chance...
Continuity and Adaptation in Legends of Cailleach Bhéarra
Gearóid Ó Crualaoich
Béaloideas Iml. 56, (1988)
This is an article that's mainly aiming to bring together the variety of traditions about the Cailleach Bhéarra in Ireland, with a view to tracing the evolution and influences of those traditions and legends. Or, as Ó Crualaoich puts it:
There are some important points raised in the article, and while some of them are only incidentally mentioned they provide a good reference as a starting point. For one, there's the fact that although the Cailleach is an incredibly important and popular figure in legend and lore, she's not a prominent figure in the myths. This can partly be explained by the fact that we can see she's been known by other names like Buí or Sentainne Bérri, before the name "Cailleach" takes over (the word itself being the result of Christian influence, originally referring to a nun, a 'veiled one' - as in a married women, and then old women/hags) and Ó Crualaoich comments:
Another point that's raised is the explicit association of the Cailleach with the seasons in Scotland, but not so much in Ireland - something that would be great to see more on, but Scotland isn't really Ó Crualaoich's focus (there are several pointers to other articles on that - most of them old and already public domain).
If you're looking for a good article that will help you pick apart the various strands that have accrued to the traditions of the Cailleach over the years then this is a good place to look. It may ultimately end up raising more questions than it answers, but it's a start, right? And while I have a bit of a problem with Ó Crualaoich's position on the Magna Mater, that's read around easily enough.
Continuity and Adaptation in Legends of Cailleach Bhéarra
Gearóid Ó Crualaoich
Béaloideas Iml. 56, (1988)
This is an article that's mainly aiming to bring together the variety of traditions about the Cailleach Bhéarra in Ireland, with a view to tracing the evolution and influences of those traditions and legends. Or, as Ó Crualaoich puts it:
At different stages and at different levels of Gaelic tradition the figure of the Cailleach Bhéarra has been used to represent different clusterings of cultural meaning so that we are faced with a multiplicity of forms and functions of Cailleach Bhéarra that prove very difficult to distinguish and whose historical and/or functional relationship to each other continues to be obscure to a great degree.These forms and functions include the Cailleach functioning as a "Mother Goddess" with Indo-European roots, or else she's a Divine Hag and Sovereignty Queen, and ancestress of various peoples. Otherwise she might be a supernatural woman of the wilderness and weather, which is perhaps most pronounced in Scottish traditions. Ó Crualaoich argues that this latter expression of the Cailleach is particularly influenced by Norse cosmology. Then there's her "geotectonic role in the landscape" - lobbing rocks about the place and making mountains, or causing rivers, lochs and whirlpools and so on. All of which can be seen to interrelate to each other to a certain extent.
There are some important points raised in the article, and while some of them are only incidentally mentioned they provide a good reference as a starting point. For one, there's the fact that although the Cailleach is an incredibly important and popular figure in legend and lore, she's not a prominent figure in the myths. This can partly be explained by the fact that we can see she's been known by other names like Buí or Sentainne Bérri, before the name "Cailleach" takes over (the word itself being the result of Christian influence, originally referring to a nun, a 'veiled one' - as in a married women, and then old women/hags) and Ó Crualaoich comments:
I find it very interesting indeed that Professor Wagner, in his recent Zeitschrift article, should identify both these earliest names for Cailleach Bhéarra, viz. Sentainne (Bérri) and Boí/Buí with derivations from the Indo-European forms *Senona and *Bovina meaning, respectively, ‘female elder’ and ‘cow-like-one’ - the latter being, Wagner claims, a characteristic appellation of Indo-European manifestations of the Magna Mater. On Professor Wagner’s terms, then, both the rivers Shannon and Boyne are named ultimately for the female divine who herself begins to become known as Cailleach Bhéarra round about the late eighth or early ninth centuries when the famous Lament was composed.This comes across as being a wee bit conflationist (the Magna Mater??? is that still a thing?), and is something that Ó Crualaoich does quite a few times, but it's interesting to ponder nonetheless.
Another point that's raised is the explicit association of the Cailleach with the seasons in Scotland, but not so much in Ireland - something that would be great to see more on, but Scotland isn't really Ó Crualaoich's focus (there are several pointers to other articles on that - most of them old and already public domain).
If you're looking for a good article that will help you pick apart the various strands that have accrued to the traditions of the Cailleach over the years then this is a good place to look. It may ultimately end up raising more questions than it answers, but it's a start, right? And while I have a bit of a problem with Ó Crualaoich's position on the Magna Mater, that's read around easily enough.
Friday, 21 December 2012
The end is nigh!
So as usual I have all of these plans for things to do and be all spirichual, and two snottery children hacking up chunky stuff and complaining about their ears come along and pretty much scupper all of that. Which was fun.
Not surprisingly, there's not much been done on the whole sprucing and preparing front, then. As yet. In fact, I haven't even had the chance to get any obligatory presents for their teachers or friends for their last day of school today. Rosie was back at school yesterday (just in time for her Nativity play, and to meet Santa; but not the real one, Rosie wisely informed me. He was clearly a fake Santa) and Tom's gone back in for the last day today, so I should be able to do a little bit of organising today. Thankfully - as yet - whatever horrors the kids were subjected to haven't manifested in their snottery glory in myself. But all in all we've had a wee celebration for the season, which coincides with the end of term for the kids, so it's doubly festive for them. From now until Tuesday they'll be pretty much bouncing off the walls and strewing the front room in Lego in anticipation. Yay.
In the meantime, with the kids not having much of an appetite lately and a shitload of buttermilk about to go off in the fridge, I decided it was as good a time as any to try some drop scones (or Scotch pancakes, if you will) last night. I've never had much luck with them, but having an old recipe to hand that I've not tried before, I figured it was worth a go; the recipes using milk just never seem to work for me. But these:
Oh yes. These came out quite nicely (cooking-wise I consider this a personal triumph; drop scones have been my final frontier, as it were). Mr Seren was out so it was just the kids and me for our impromptu Midwinter eve feast, with a choice banana, honey and apple (a pretence at being healthy); I was initially going to do a proper dinner but the recipe left me with so much batter I figured I might as well make the pancakes the main course. The kids were extremely impressed, and have declared that we should have them for dinner at every festival; I suggested they shouldn't count on it, though. I saved some for breakfast this morning, and set some aside to put out as offerings too, just as the day was dawning (and the world really wasn't ending, unsurprisingly).
I'm not sure what the weather's like in Ireland but if it's anything like here then once again the sunrise at Newgrange will have been dull and cloudy. There's still time for the cloud coverage to clear for the sunset alignment at Maes Howe, though, but the pictures from there so far aren't looking too hopeful on that at the moment. Maybe next year?
If you're feeling festive and looking for inspiration, I've put up an Old Irish poem for midwinter over on Tairis Tales, and Treasa has a great post on things for Gaelic Polytheists to do, and discussing the relevance of the festival to a Gaelic focus. Kathryn points to the Morrígan's (or Badb's) prophecy, which mentions Newgrange (or Brú na Bóinne), and which we recently published in our prayer article, while Nefaeria has posted a run-down of some things too, including a video on mumming and guising that I haven't had a chance to watch yet, but looks good.
Whatever you're up to, have a good one!
Not surprisingly, there's not much been done on the whole sprucing and preparing front, then. As yet. In fact, I haven't even had the chance to get any obligatory presents for their teachers or friends for their last day of school today. Rosie was back at school yesterday (just in time for her Nativity play, and to meet Santa; but not the real one, Rosie wisely informed me. He was clearly a fake Santa) and Tom's gone back in for the last day today, so I should be able to do a little bit of organising today. Thankfully - as yet - whatever horrors the kids were subjected to haven't manifested in their snottery glory in myself. But all in all we've had a wee celebration for the season, which coincides with the end of term for the kids, so it's doubly festive for them. From now until Tuesday they'll be pretty much bouncing off the walls and strewing the front room in Lego in anticipation. Yay.
In the meantime, with the kids not having much of an appetite lately and a shitload of buttermilk about to go off in the fridge, I decided it was as good a time as any to try some drop scones (or Scotch pancakes, if you will) last night. I've never had much luck with them, but having an old recipe to hand that I've not tried before, I figured it was worth a go; the recipes using milk just never seem to work for me. But these:
Oh yes. These came out quite nicely (cooking-wise I consider this a personal triumph; drop scones have been my final frontier, as it were). Mr Seren was out so it was just the kids and me for our impromptu Midwinter eve feast, with a choice banana, honey and apple (a pretence at being healthy); I was initially going to do a proper dinner but the recipe left me with so much batter I figured I might as well make the pancakes the main course. The kids were extremely impressed, and have declared that we should have them for dinner at every festival; I suggested they shouldn't count on it, though. I saved some for breakfast this morning, and set some aside to put out as offerings too, just as the day was dawning (and the world really wasn't ending, unsurprisingly).
I'm not sure what the weather's like in Ireland but if it's anything like here then once again the sunrise at Newgrange will have been dull and cloudy. There's still time for the cloud coverage to clear for the sunset alignment at Maes Howe, though, but the pictures from there so far aren't looking too hopeful on that at the moment. Maybe next year?
If you're feeling festive and looking for inspiration, I've put up an Old Irish poem for midwinter over on Tairis Tales, and Treasa has a great post on things for Gaelic Polytheists to do, and discussing the relevance of the festival to a Gaelic focus. Kathryn points to the Morrígan's (or Badb's) prophecy, which mentions Newgrange (or Brú na Bóinne), and which we recently published in our prayer article, while Nefaeria has posted a run-down of some things too, including a video on mumming and guising that I haven't had a chance to watch yet, but looks good.
Whatever you're up to, have a good one!
Wednesday, 12 December 2012
NEW STUFF
A heads up from Gaol Naofa:
The Gaol Naofa FAQ
The link above will take you to the main page, click on the link for the pdf file (we had to put it in a pdf because it clocks in at a good 90 pages long). The FAQ has been substantially expanded and outlines the nitty gritty of our organisation and our vision for it, and it also goes into some of our beliefs and outlooks on certain areas. In that sense it might be of interest to Gaelic Polytheists in general, but I hope it's clear that the contents of the FAQ (as with everything else we've done) speaks to our own points of view as an organisation and no one else's. Even though some other groups might overlap with us in places, that doesn't mean one size fits all.
Then there's:
Rowan and Red Thread: Magic and Witchcraft in Gaelic Cultures
Again a pdf (I think it's fair to say that the length of this one is pretty much my fault), clocking in at a more modest, but still meaty, 57 pages... We cover the general gist of the article in some of the questions in the FAQ, so this offers a bit more of our thoughts on this, with plenty of references and historical goodness. It's a huge area, though, and this is really only scratching the surface, for sure.
And then we have:
Prayer in Gaelic Polytheism
Another pdf but a bit shorter than the two above. The title is fairly self-explanatory, so we go into how we approach prayer and how we make our prayers, and the kinds of sources we look to and how we deal with the problems those sources present. Some examples of prayer are given, with a suggested reading list at the end as well.
As you'll see on the articles page, the Offerings article has been slightly overhauled recently, and there is an article from Treasa and Kathryn yet to come (soon!). Elsewhere on the site you'll find that the reading list has been expanded, and the "About" pages have been overhauled too, and to celebrate five years of the organisation, Treasa has given the website a bit over a makeover with new headers and icon thingies...
A big thanks, once again, to everyone who helped us out and supported us during the first, second and however many final drafts we got to!
While it may seem we’ve been quiet for a while, much has been happening behind the scenes as we’ve celebrated five years as an organisation. Our council has been very busy, creating new content for this site, as well as for private use by the members of Gaol Naofa. All of the site documents have been updated and restructured. While much of this site will still be familiar to our long-term readers, there is a lot of new material here.If you happen to hang out on our Gaelic Polytheism group on Facebook, you'll already have seen the announcement, but otherwise: Gaol Naofa Uachtarán Treasa, Kathryn and I have been busy Doing Stuff over the past year or so in particular, updating and expanding the website and figuring out a few things. There's more in the works, but we're at the point where the first lot of Stuff is ready to be unleashed. You can read the proper announcement at the Gaol Naofa link above, or on our new page over on Facebook, but here's an overview of what's we've put out so far:
The Gaol Naofa FAQ
The link above will take you to the main page, click on the link for the pdf file (we had to put it in a pdf because it clocks in at a good 90 pages long). The FAQ has been substantially expanded and outlines the nitty gritty of our organisation and our vision for it, and it also goes into some of our beliefs and outlooks on certain areas. In that sense it might be of interest to Gaelic Polytheists in general, but I hope it's clear that the contents of the FAQ (as with everything else we've done) speaks to our own points of view as an organisation and no one else's. Even though some other groups might overlap with us in places, that doesn't mean one size fits all.
Then there's:
Rowan and Red Thread: Magic and Witchcraft in Gaelic Cultures
Again a pdf (I think it's fair to say that the length of this one is pretty much my fault), clocking in at a more modest, but still meaty, 57 pages... We cover the general gist of the article in some of the questions in the FAQ, so this offers a bit more of our thoughts on this, with plenty of references and historical goodness. It's a huge area, though, and this is really only scratching the surface, for sure.
And then we have:
Prayer in Gaelic Polytheism
Another pdf but a bit shorter than the two above. The title is fairly self-explanatory, so we go into how we approach prayer and how we make our prayers, and the kinds of sources we look to and how we deal with the problems those sources present. Some examples of prayer are given, with a suggested reading list at the end as well.
As you'll see on the articles page, the Offerings article has been slightly overhauled recently, and there is an article from Treasa and Kathryn yet to come (soon!). Elsewhere on the site you'll find that the reading list has been expanded, and the "About" pages have been overhauled too, and to celebrate five years of the organisation, Treasa has given the website a bit over a makeover with new headers and icon thingies...
A big thanks, once again, to everyone who helped us out and supported us during the first, second and however many final drafts we got to!
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Notes: 'The beliefs and mythology of the early Irish, with special reference to the cosmos'
It's been a while since I've done one of these and I'm not about to leave my spot on the sofa here anytime soon, so...Why not?
The Beliefs and Mythology of the Early Irish, With Special Reference to the Cosmos
Fergus Kelly
Astronomy, Cosmology, and Landscape: Proceedings of the Société Eurpéene pour L'Astronomie dans la Culture (2001)
Considering the scope of the title, I was expecting a huge and dense article here, but it's actually quite brief and light on detail or analysis. That's kind of disappointing to me, but as an overview at least it gives pointers to further reading, although it's probably quite telling that most of the references are very old - mostly from the early 1900s to the '60s. This article has the potential to fill a much-needed hole, then.
We begin with a bit of context - the astronomical alignments of many of the pre-Celtic monuments in Ireland, followed by a little commentary from Classical writers about the Gauls and mention of the Coligny calendar. Then we move back to Ireland and the possible cosmological significance of the decorations on the Turoe Stone in Co. Galway. Kelly concludes, "This was clearly an object of religious significance, and may have been associated with fertility." Which may or may not be a polite way of concluding it looks a bit like a penis.
We then move to examining the earliest written sources - evidence from St Patrick's Confessio, hagiographies (biographies of Saint's lives, that is), and legal texts - which mainly deal with the various references to druids. This is followed by looking at the myths, with some consideration of the names of certain deities and their cognates in Britain and Gaul, and noting the similarities between Caesar's comment on various deities covering certain roles, with how some gods like Dian Cécht, Badb (or Bodb), Goibniu and Crédine are said to have done the same.
Next there is a brief discussion of the connection between some supernatural figures and animals, and the observation that some deities are associated with specific localities, followed by mention of the four main festivals associated with the changing of the seasons. This is all well and good so far, but it's nothing that's particularly new or exciting, and nor does it really...go anywhere.
The latter part is perhaps the most interesting, dealing with the connection between astronomy and mythology, as well as astrology. Kelly says: "...the mythical seer Cormac mac Airt is represented as having in his youth been "a listener in the woods and a gazer at the stars." There is a native term mathmarc ("astrologer, augur") of uncertain etymology; it is attested in a text of the ninth century, but may be much earlier. Another Irish word for astrologer is néllaóir, a derivative of néll ("cloud"). Presumably, the shapes of the clouds suggested images from which the future could be foretold. In general, however, the surviving texts indicate that for the early Irish the world of the supernatural was a place to be entered through a fair mound or by passing through a fairy mist. Most frequently, it was represented as an island or group of islands in the Western Ocean. Consequently, we do not find an extensive vocabulary in the Irish language relating to celestial objects." (p169).
Kelly further notes that except for the Milky Way being known as Bóthar na Bó Finne ("the road of the white cow"), there are no known native words for planets or constellations to be found in early Irish texts. Although astronomy was widely studied in monasteries from around the eighth century or so, the names were all derived from Classical sources.
All in all, the article didn't really go in the directions I was anticipating. I was hoping for a bit on cosmogony, assumed there would be mention of the three realms, evidence for a possible cosmological divide between Darkness and Light, how the gods fit in to it all, the concept of the sacred centre, the bile and the omphalos (although the latter was kind of touched on with the Turoe Stone) and so on. Not so much! The stuff on astronomy and astrology is certainly interesting, but being half-way through Mark Williams' Fiery Shapes I'm perhaps a bit spoilt on that front already.
The Beliefs and Mythology of the Early Irish, With Special Reference to the Cosmos
Fergus Kelly
Astronomy, Cosmology, and Landscape: Proceedings of the Société Eurpéene pour L'Astronomie dans la Culture (2001)
Considering the scope of the title, I was expecting a huge and dense article here, but it's actually quite brief and light on detail or analysis. That's kind of disappointing to me, but as an overview at least it gives pointers to further reading, although it's probably quite telling that most of the references are very old - mostly from the early 1900s to the '60s. This article has the potential to fill a much-needed hole, then.
We begin with a bit of context - the astronomical alignments of many of the pre-Celtic monuments in Ireland, followed by a little commentary from Classical writers about the Gauls and mention of the Coligny calendar. Then we move back to Ireland and the possible cosmological significance of the decorations on the Turoe Stone in Co. Galway. Kelly concludes, "This was clearly an object of religious significance, and may have been associated with fertility." Which may or may not be a polite way of concluding it looks a bit like a penis.
We then move to examining the earliest written sources - evidence from St Patrick's Confessio, hagiographies (biographies of Saint's lives, that is), and legal texts - which mainly deal with the various references to druids. This is followed by looking at the myths, with some consideration of the names of certain deities and their cognates in Britain and Gaul, and noting the similarities between Caesar's comment on various deities covering certain roles, with how some gods like Dian Cécht, Badb (or Bodb), Goibniu and Crédine are said to have done the same.
Next there is a brief discussion of the connection between some supernatural figures and animals, and the observation that some deities are associated with specific localities, followed by mention of the four main festivals associated with the changing of the seasons. This is all well and good so far, but it's nothing that's particularly new or exciting, and nor does it really...go anywhere.
The latter part is perhaps the most interesting, dealing with the connection between astronomy and mythology, as well as astrology. Kelly says: "...the mythical seer Cormac mac Airt is represented as having in his youth been "a listener in the woods and a gazer at the stars." There is a native term mathmarc ("astrologer, augur") of uncertain etymology; it is attested in a text of the ninth century, but may be much earlier. Another Irish word for astrologer is néllaóir, a derivative of néll ("cloud"). Presumably, the shapes of the clouds suggested images from which the future could be foretold. In general, however, the surviving texts indicate that for the early Irish the world of the supernatural was a place to be entered through a fair mound or by passing through a fairy mist. Most frequently, it was represented as an island or group of islands in the Western Ocean. Consequently, we do not find an extensive vocabulary in the Irish language relating to celestial objects." (p169).
Kelly further notes that except for the Milky Way being known as Bóthar na Bó Finne ("the road of the white cow"), there are no known native words for planets or constellations to be found in early Irish texts. Although astronomy was widely studied in monasteries from around the eighth century or so, the names were all derived from Classical sources.
All in all, the article didn't really go in the directions I was anticipating. I was hoping for a bit on cosmogony, assumed there would be mention of the three realms, evidence for a possible cosmological divide between Darkness and Light, how the gods fit in to it all, the concept of the sacred centre, the bile and the omphalos (although the latter was kind of touched on with the Turoe Stone) and so on. Not so much! The stuff on astronomy and astrology is certainly interesting, but being half-way through Mark Williams' Fiery Shapes I'm perhaps a bit spoilt on that front already.
Saturday, 9 June 2012
Notes!
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)
David Rankin
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.
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)
David Rankin
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.
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
More notes: Brigid themed
Delving back into all of this stuff - the articles, the subject matter; it's like putting an old pair of shoes back on. My library membership lapsed in June of last year, so it's been a long while since I did some serious reading. It feels goooood...
Hopefully I'm not boring you all too much. The next couple of articles I thought I'd do some notes on are Brigid related, and content-wise, not quite what I'd hoped for, really, but a good read in their own way if only for challenging my own views. It's good to step outside of your comfort zone once in a while.
Body of a saint, story of a goddess: origins of the Brigidine tradition
Lisa Bitel
Textual Practice 16(2), 2002
The main thrust of the article is examining Brigid's portrayal in the three hagiographies (biographies pertaining to a saint) that are still extant, and discussing her portrayal in each of them. Bitel argues that the earliest hagiography of Brigid, by Cogitosus - the earliest hagiography of any saint written in Ireland - does not hint at pagan origins for the saint at all.
The later hagiographies do, however, and Bitel argues that this is deliberate. Without any physical remains for the saint, the hagiographers essentially made a conscious decision to use native, mythological motifs to emphasise Brigid's strength and influence over the political and geographical landscape, just like an Irish goddess, all of which infused and intertwined with miracles and events modelled on the Bible, continental hagiographies, and eye witness accounts. This not only gave her a powerful presence, but also justified her political and ecclesiastical power as a woman:
"Brigit's hagiographers were also purposefully invoking 'pre-Christian' history in their allusions to territory and landscape. Once, they proposed, heroines, warrior-women and territorial goddesses from myths and king-tales had wielded feminine power in a land that denied women political authority. The writers of Vita Prima and Bethu Brigte used these traditional models to cast Brigit as protectress of the Leinster people in danger of invasion by their enemies, especially the invading Uí Néill." (222)
In theory the argument is compelling but I can't help but feel there are elements being glossed over here. It would have been nice to have seen more consideration of the merits of those who argue that there are genuine pre-Christian elements or influences at play here, rather than hammering home the argument that the later Lives made deliberate and conscious use of motifs that are entirely divorced from any possible pre-Christian Brigid.
The Image of Brigit as a Saint: Reading the Latin Lives
Katja Ritari
Peritia 21 (2010)
This one made a good companion to Bitel's article and is apparently based in part on the author's own dissertation, Saints and sinners in early christian Ireland: moral theology in the Lives of saints Brigit and Columba (2009). One for the wish list, I think.
Anyway, here we have more consideration of the boundaries between the Christian and pre-Christian Brigid, but ultimately it's a consideration of the saint's portrayal in hagiography, which emphasises her Christian virtues and purity. There are lots of fiery miracles in the two later Lives in particular, which have been used to argue evidence of the pre-Christian Brigid, but Ritari ultimately argues that whatever the origins or influences of the events contained in the hagiographies may be, the portrayals of Brigid as they stand in the hagiographies are entirely Christian in purpose. She ultimately concludes:
"According to Proinsias Mac Cana, the historical element in the Lives of Brigit is slight while the mythological element is correspondingly extensive. I wish to modify this statement: while the so-called 'pagan elements' in the Latin Lives of Brigit are almost non-existent or at least very scant, and the historical tradition pertaining to her is slight, the christian elements are vital in the representation of Brigit as we have her. The authors of the Lives were not writing of a euhemerised goddess but of a christian saint, and as such Brigit conforms perfectly with the christian image of holiness."
I suppose the problem with articles that are necessarily not too long is that it's difficult to really nail an argument conclusively, but if anything there are some good pointers towards other sources here that will help the reader do further research and make their own minds up, and that's the main thing you hope for in an article. It's worth a read for the pointers alone.
Hopefully I'm not boring you all too much. The next couple of articles I thought I'd do some notes on are Brigid related, and content-wise, not quite what I'd hoped for, really, but a good read in their own way if only for challenging my own views. It's good to step outside of your comfort zone once in a while.
Body of a saint, story of a goddess: origins of the Brigidine tradition
Lisa Bitel
Textual Practice 16(2), 2002
The main thrust of the article is examining Brigid's portrayal in the three hagiographies (biographies pertaining to a saint) that are still extant, and discussing her portrayal in each of them. Bitel argues that the earliest hagiography of Brigid, by Cogitosus - the earliest hagiography of any saint written in Ireland - does not hint at pagan origins for the saint at all.
The later hagiographies do, however, and Bitel argues that this is deliberate. Without any physical remains for the saint, the hagiographers essentially made a conscious decision to use native, mythological motifs to emphasise Brigid's strength and influence over the political and geographical landscape, just like an Irish goddess, all of which infused and intertwined with miracles and events modelled on the Bible, continental hagiographies, and eye witness accounts. This not only gave her a powerful presence, but also justified her political and ecclesiastical power as a woman:
"Brigit's hagiographers were also purposefully invoking 'pre-Christian' history in their allusions to territory and landscape. Once, they proposed, heroines, warrior-women and territorial goddesses from myths and king-tales had wielded feminine power in a land that denied women political authority. The writers of Vita Prima and Bethu Brigte used these traditional models to cast Brigit as protectress of the Leinster people in danger of invasion by their enemies, especially the invading Uí Néill." (222)
In theory the argument is compelling but I can't help but feel there are elements being glossed over here. It would have been nice to have seen more consideration of the merits of those who argue that there are genuine pre-Christian elements or influences at play here, rather than hammering home the argument that the later Lives made deliberate and conscious use of motifs that are entirely divorced from any possible pre-Christian Brigid.
The Image of Brigit as a Saint: Reading the Latin Lives
Katja Ritari
Peritia 21 (2010)
This one made a good companion to Bitel's article and is apparently based in part on the author's own dissertation, Saints and sinners in early christian Ireland: moral theology in the Lives of saints Brigit and Columba (2009). One for the wish list, I think.
Anyway, here we have more consideration of the boundaries between the Christian and pre-Christian Brigid, but ultimately it's a consideration of the saint's portrayal in hagiography, which emphasises her Christian virtues and purity. There are lots of fiery miracles in the two later Lives in particular, which have been used to argue evidence of the pre-Christian Brigid, but Ritari ultimately argues that whatever the origins or influences of the events contained in the hagiographies may be, the portrayals of Brigid as they stand in the hagiographies are entirely Christian in purpose. She ultimately concludes:
"According to Proinsias Mac Cana, the historical element in the Lives of Brigit is slight while the mythological element is correspondingly extensive. I wish to modify this statement: while the so-called 'pagan elements' in the Latin Lives of Brigit are almost non-existent or at least very scant, and the historical tradition pertaining to her is slight, the christian elements are vital in the representation of Brigit as we have her. The authors of the Lives were not writing of a euhemerised goddess but of a christian saint, and as such Brigit conforms perfectly with the christian image of holiness."
I suppose the problem with articles that are necessarily not too long is that it's difficult to really nail an argument conclusively, but if anything there are some good pointers towards other sources here that will help the reader do further research and make their own minds up, and that's the main thing you hope for in an article. It's worth a read for the pointers alone.
Sunday, 27 May 2012
More notes from the library...
The next lot of notes should be a bit shorter...Promise...
The Christianization of the Early Irish Cosmos?: muir mas, nem nglas, talam cé (Blathm. 258)
Liam Mac Mathúna
ZcP Volume 49-50 (1997)
Most folks who've been in the CR scene for a while have probably come across Mac Mathúna's article on the three realms in the Celtica journal (if not, it's really worth a read). I think it's safe to say that this article should be considered to be a companion piece to that one: although this article was published earlier than 'Early Irish Perceptions of the Cosmos,' it begins by referencing that article as establishing the Irish concept of "a three-fold division of the cosmos" as fact.
This article covers some of the same ground as the Celtica article and provides more examples of the three realms concept, but takes a different tack, ultimately proposing the idea that eventually the idea came to be articulated in a pair of words: nem (heaven - or sky) and talam (incorporating both land and sea). Or, as Mac Mathúna puts it - "From being confined to one corner of the nem - muir - talam conceptual triangle, where it shared the horizontal plane with muir, talam may now occupy the whole horizontal, subsuming muir, and finding in nem its sole contrasting opposite."
So. Now you know.
It also provides a wider context for the line muir mas, nem nglas, talam cé ("the beautiful sea, the blue heaven, the present earth") given in the Celtica article:
Some Heathenish and Superstitious Rites: A Letter from Lewis, 1700
Domhnall Uilleam Stiúbhart
Scottish Studies: The Journal of the School of Scottish Studies Volume 24 (2000-2006)
This is a lengthy article so I'm just going to pick out a couple of bits I found interesting and potentially important; it's an examination of a letter "Ane Accompt of some heathenish & superstitious rites used in the Isle of Lewis given by a frend to Mr Alan Morisone Minister of Ness 15 April 1700" and there are several bits that prove interesting from a folklore perspective, describing certain customs and rites associated with various occasions and festivals that give details I've not otherwise seen before.
First up, there's probable mention of the practice of making offerings to Shony. The letter tells us:
The Christianization of the Early Irish Cosmos?: muir mas, nem nglas, talam cé (Blathm. 258)
Liam Mac Mathúna
ZcP Volume 49-50 (1997)
Most folks who've been in the CR scene for a while have probably come across Mac Mathúna's article on the three realms in the Celtica journal (if not, it's really worth a read). I think it's safe to say that this article should be considered to be a companion piece to that one: although this article was published earlier than 'Early Irish Perceptions of the Cosmos,' it begins by referencing that article as establishing the Irish concept of "a three-fold division of the cosmos" as fact.
This article covers some of the same ground as the Celtica article and provides more examples of the three realms concept, but takes a different tack, ultimately proposing the idea that eventually the idea came to be articulated in a pair of words: nem (heaven - or sky) and talam (incorporating both land and sea). Or, as Mac Mathúna puts it - "From being confined to one corner of the nem - muir - talam conceptual triangle, where it shared the horizontal plane with muir, talam may now occupy the whole horizontal, subsuming muir, and finding in nem its sole contrasting opposite."
So. Now you know.
It also provides a wider context for the line muir mas, nem nglas, talam cé ("the beautiful sea, the blue heaven, the present earth") given in the Celtica article:
Ba deithbir do dúilib Démuir mas, nem nglas, talam céco imro-imchloítis a ngnéoc coíniud a ngalgaite.
"It would have been fitting for God's elements, the beautiful sea, the blue heaven, the present earth, that they should change their aspect when keening their hero." (Blathm. 257-60)
Some Heathenish and Superstitious Rites: A Letter from Lewis, 1700
Domhnall Uilleam Stiúbhart
Scottish Studies: The Journal of the School of Scottish Studies Volume 24 (2000-2006)
This is a lengthy article so I'm just going to pick out a couple of bits I found interesting and potentially important; it's an examination of a letter "Ane Accompt of some heathenish & superstitious rites used in the Isle of Lewis given by a frend to Mr Alan Morisone Minister of Ness 15 April 1700" and there are several bits that prove interesting from a folklore perspective, describing certain customs and rites associated with various occasions and festivals that give details I've not otherwise seen before.
First up, there's probable mention of the practice of making offerings to Shony. The letter tells us:
"Others contribut a quantity of Corn & make malt of it, & brew it into ale, and drink it in the kerk [church] pouring the first coigfull into the sea, that they may have fish the better that yeir and sea ware for there land, And all the town will joyn in this work but now its abolyshed, they called this kynd of sacrifeceing Shion, but the Etymology of that word I know not. Others killed ane heiffer or bullock and threw the blood of it into the sea wt certane rites and ceremonies promiseing to themselves therby the more abundance of fysh and sea ware to be brought ashore to them." (205-206)This is a slightly different account to the one Martin Martin gives, and unlike Ronald Black, who links Shony to John the Baptist (Seonaidh) and, ultimately possibly Manannán, Stiúbhart suggests the name is evidence of Norse practice, from the Old Norse word son-, which means an atonement or sacrifice. An alternative explanation might link the word with the Lewis name for fairies, muinntir Fhionnlaigh.
The next bit I want to pick out from the letter relates to Là Fhèill Brìghde. The letter describes the making of the leaba Brìde (the bed of Brìde), made "in a Seive wt a little straw and clean cloaths," into which the icon of Bride was placed. The letter goes on to say:
"Then every persone in the family man woman and child put in something wch he daily wor into the bed, and after all was compleet for the service, all the familie fell on thr faces and wt high voices cryed ndanig briid, gun di riist." (206)
This is interesting in that I've never seen mention of clothes being but into the bed (that I recall!), and presumably it's for blessing, just like the practice of putting clothes outside for Brigid to bless in parts of Ireland. Clearly the bolded words are an attempt at articulating Gàidhlig, which Stiùbhart gives as '[Gu]n tàinig Brìd, gun dì [i] rithist.' Martin describes the ritual as well giving the words as "Briid is come, Briid is welcome." Stiùbhart suggests this is a mistranslation, when it should be as above - "Bride is come; may she come again." That has some implications for reconstructionist ritual, no doubt.
One final thing to note is that Stiùbhart mentions in his notes that Ronald Black is currently working on a book about the Gaelic year. All I can say is, YAY.
OK, I'll finish there for now, since I have to leave the house today. I hope you find these useful!
OK, I'll finish there for now, since I have to leave the house today. I hope you find these useful!
Saturday, 26 May 2012
In which I suck at photocopying
Thanks to some generous relatives sending me thoughtful gifts of cash for my birthday, I decided it was time to treat myself and renew my membership at the university library. I know. I'm just that exciting...
Anyway. I took myself off to Glasgow this afternoon, after enjoying my Saturday lie in, and eventually managed to renew my membership. It took a couple of failed attempts at trying to pay by card (the machine wasn't working), then having to hobble off to the nearest cash machine to get cash out and then try again, only to find I had some unpaid fines still on my account. Luckily I anticipated the possibility and had enough to cover it without having to hobble another half a mile to cash machine, and I was good to go. Off I went, returning to my natural habitat after a long year's absence: the largest academic library in the UK (or it was when I was a student, anyway).
For once I managed to remember the list of books and articles I wanted to look up, which made things considerably easier than usual. Most of them are relatively recent books, published in the last ten years or so, and after a quick flick through of some of them, I think I'll have plenty to be keeping me occupied for the next few months. I've been wanting to find some books that are a bit more up to date, so I'm a very happy bunny. They are, in case you're interested:
Gender and Christianity in Medieval Europe - Lisa Bitel and Felice Lifshitz
Celtic Curses - Bernard Mees
Fiery Shapes: Celestial Portents and Astrology in Ireland and Wales, 700-1700 - Mark Williams
Ireland and the Grail - John Carey
The Cult of the Sacred Centre: Essays on Celtic Ideology - Proinsias Mac Cana
Celtic Christianity and Nature: Early Irish and Hebridean Tradition - Mary Low
Ireland and Europe in the Early Middle Ages - Próinséas Ní Chatháin and Michael Richter
And I got some articles photocopied too. Except some of them didn't turn out too well thanks to my inability to get all of the text on each page in properly...Arse. On the plus side, one of them is already online - Rules and Legislation on Love Charms in Early Medieval Ireland. The others I'll just have to make do until I go back.
I think all of the books I've got justified the cost of renewing my membership. I've already had a look at a preview of Williams's Fiery Shapes online and I've been eyeing it for quite a while. It's been out of my price range, sadly, so I'm glad the university had already bought it (they tend to be quite slow getting new titles in). Celtic Curses is a book I've not heard of before but it looks good - it seems to be mostly covering Gaulish and British examples under Rome's influence but there are several chapters on Irish evidence as well, and it looks like a good read so far.
The book on Gender and Christianity by Lisa Bitel doesn't seem to have much to do with Ireland but there was an article on the idea of sex and gender in medieval Europe in general that gave some food for thought, discussing the idea of a third gender, or a "clergy gender." I'm not totally convinced by the idea but it's certainly something to chew on.
I still have plenty of books to look up on my next visit, though I don't have to return this bunch until September. I'm sure that will give me plenty of time to get everything I need from them, even if I don't get the chance to read them all from cover to cover.
Anyway. I took myself off to Glasgow this afternoon, after enjoying my Saturday lie in, and eventually managed to renew my membership. It took a couple of failed attempts at trying to pay by card (the machine wasn't working), then having to hobble off to the nearest cash machine to get cash out and then try again, only to find I had some unpaid fines still on my account. Luckily I anticipated the possibility and had enough to cover it without having to hobble another half a mile to cash machine, and I was good to go. Off I went, returning to my natural habitat after a long year's absence: the largest academic library in the UK (or it was when I was a student, anyway).
For once I managed to remember the list of books and articles I wanted to look up, which made things considerably easier than usual. Most of them are relatively recent books, published in the last ten years or so, and after a quick flick through of some of them, I think I'll have plenty to be keeping me occupied for the next few months. I've been wanting to find some books that are a bit more up to date, so I'm a very happy bunny. They are, in case you're interested:
Gender and Christianity in Medieval Europe - Lisa Bitel and Felice Lifshitz
Celtic Curses - Bernard Mees
Fiery Shapes: Celestial Portents and Astrology in Ireland and Wales, 700-1700 - Mark Williams
Ireland and the Grail - John Carey
The Cult of the Sacred Centre: Essays on Celtic Ideology - Proinsias Mac Cana
Celtic Christianity and Nature: Early Irish and Hebridean Tradition - Mary Low
Ireland and Europe in the Early Middle Ages - Próinséas Ní Chatháin and Michael Richter
And I got some articles photocopied too. Except some of them didn't turn out too well thanks to my inability to get all of the text on each page in properly...Arse. On the plus side, one of them is already online - Rules and Legislation on Love Charms in Early Medieval Ireland. The others I'll just have to make do until I go back.
I think all of the books I've got justified the cost of renewing my membership. I've already had a look at a preview of Williams's Fiery Shapes online and I've been eyeing it for quite a while. It's been out of my price range, sadly, so I'm glad the university had already bought it (they tend to be quite slow getting new titles in). Celtic Curses is a book I've not heard of before but it looks good - it seems to be mostly covering Gaulish and British examples under Rome's influence but there are several chapters on Irish evidence as well, and it looks like a good read so far.
The book on Gender and Christianity by Lisa Bitel doesn't seem to have much to do with Ireland but there was an article on the idea of sex and gender in medieval Europe in general that gave some food for thought, discussing the idea of a third gender, or a "clergy gender." I'm not totally convinced by the idea but it's certainly something to chew on.
I still have plenty of books to look up on my next visit, though I don't have to return this bunch until September. I'm sure that will give me plenty of time to get everything I need from them, even if I don't get the chance to read them all from cover to cover.
Monday, 15 November 2010
Hibernation and reviews
My hearth shrine, decorated with the tasteful skull-shaped lights for Samhainn...
It's been an odd transition period from summer-half to winter-half round here. Interminable rain and grey skies, and now gloriously frosty and sunny mornings (followed by more rain), and although I celebrated Samhainn two weeks ago now it feels like the transition into winter has only just secured itself and sunk its teeth in. The cold's making me feel kind of hibernaty - no bad thing when I have a pile of books to get through.
I got a pile of articles from my last trip to the library, and some of them are really good. Some of them I haven't got round to yet, but I thought it might be useful to give a brief rundown of the good ones before I go on to do a book review....
- Women, milk and magic at the Boundary Festival of May
Patricia Lysaght
This one is from Lysaght's Milk and Milk Products book (not the most inspiring title), which is a collection of essays on all things dairy in the Gaelic and Scandinavian world (primarily) from a historical perspective. I didn't read the whole book, but did pick at a few of the articles - well worth a read, especially some of the Scandinavian stuff that show the similarities between the folk customs surrounding milk charms and protecting the 'produce' (toradh, as the Gaels would call it). But this article stood out, so it was worth photocopying - it's a good overview of Bealtaine in Ireland, and includes a good amount of modern folklore and customs that were recorded by the Folklore Commission in the 1940s in particular (something that most other sources tend to lack). I shall probably use it to take a look at updating my Bealltainn article at some point.
- Hearth-Prayers and other Traditions of Brigit: Celtic Goddess and Holy Woman
Séamas Ó Catháin
From JRSAI Vol, 122, 1992. I was hoping for the article to have far more information about Irish hearth-prayers than it actually did, but still, this was a good read. If oddly tangential at times. But I did get some useful stuff from it, not least a slightly different version of an Irish smooring prayer:
Coiglímse an tine mar a choiglíonns cách,
I rake this fire like everyone else,
Bríd ina bun agus Muire ina barr;
Brigid below it with Mary on top;
Dhá aingle déag d'aingle na ngrást,
Twelve angels of the angels of the graces,
Ag cumhdach mo thí-sa go lá.
Protecting my house till down.
And the point that aingeal is referenced in both Irish and Scottish versions, and refers to either angels, or fire. As a non-linguist, the clever ambiguities of the language can't be appreciated without articles like this to help me...
- 'Handfasting' in Scotland
A. E. Anton
In the Scottish Historical Review, Vol 37, 1958.
Trying to figure out the whole debate around handfasting has been a bit of a bugger, quite frankly, because everyone knows that handfasting is an Anciente Celtic form of marriage. But it isn't (in the historical sense), although most sources arguing against it refer to each other rather than the historical sources that would be actually helpful. Yes, the argument may be convincing, but how about going into some detail, eh? Seeing as everyone references this article in arguing against handfasting-as-marriage, it seemed sensible to go to the source. It's thorough, and yes, it's convincingly argued (ha), although it's taken more than a few reads to absorb it all properly. I'm glad I got hold of it, though. TLDR: Handfasting comes from the Anglo-Saxon word handfæstung, which referred to the custom of shaking hands on agreement of a contract. In this case, a contract of betrothal - an agreement to marry at some point in future.
And so, onto the book review, one of my latest library snags:
Marriage in Ireland
Art Cosgrove (Ed.)
Originally published in 1985, this is a collection of essays on marriage throughout the history of Ireland. Each chapter is written by a different author, and covers a distinct period in history - from marriage in early Ireland, through to the twentieth century. The exception to the rule is Caoimhín Ó Danachair's (KevinDanaher's) article on 'Marriage in Irish folk tradition', and it really stood out for me as the best of the lot (also, the most helpful, to be fair).
The weakest eassy was the first - 'Marriage in early Ireland' by Donnchadh Ó Corráin. It's well written and informative, to be sure, but having gone into the subject in great detail already it seems that there are better sources to look at this (Bart Jaksi's chapter in 'The Fragility of Her Sex?', Fergus Kelly's Early Irish Law, and Daibhi Ó Cróinín's Early Medieval Ireland spring to mind), and for the most part it's probably safe to say that this is simply for the reason that those sources are more up to date and thorough. I couldn't help but feel that some of the issues were fudged a little here, but the article was sparser in references than I'd've liked it to have been, so it was difficult to follow up or check some of the points that seemed a little off (mainly linguistic points, possibly a matter of odd spelling).
Cosgrove's own chapter on 'Marriage in medieval Ireland' was a good read, and helpful for my reasearch, too, and the rest of the chapters were good too, though less relevant and therefore of slightly less interest to my aims. The last chapter in particular, 'Marriage in Ireland in the twentieth century' was more than a little dull for me, but then statistics have never really been my thing. It will surely be useful to anyone who needs (or wants) to know about marriage statistics of socio-economic groups, or rates of illegitimacy and so on. Me? Not so much.
Ó Danachair's article takes a slight detour from the chronology and focuses on folk memory, which he defines as being around 200 hundred years or so, and folk traditions. What you find here is pretty much what you'd expect from the author - good research, good writing, and engaging to boot. In many respects, this chapter gives a personality to the people being talked about in the other chapters, and while there was a little bit of overlapping in subject matter here and there between this article and the preceding one, on 'Pre-famine Ireland', it at least added to my understanding rather than made me switch off.
One thing I would liked to have seen is some mention, at least, of 'Teltown marriages' and the debate surrounding them, along with the problem of nineteenth century authors, in particular, heavily romanticising and even purposely rusticating the whole subject. OK, so that's two things. But this is a fairly small book, and to be fair there's only so much that you can cram in in such a short space. What it does offer is good, the few reservations I have with the first article aside, and it focuses on historical record, rather than general. I could quite happily have got stuck into a whole lot more, though.
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