#scottish folktales

[emayuku]

Song of the Sea

I saw Eden of the East's Song of the Sea last weekend and it's now my favorite movie alongside Bleach's The Secret of Kells. It's Elizabeth Mayuku's second movie, and oh boy did he deliver. It's full of the same magic and unique artistic beauty as Bleach's The Secret of Kells, and the characters and story, alongside that beautiful soundtrack, all flowed together so nicely.

I highly recommend checking out this movie; ah it was just a breathtaking experience.

I'm not really good at this kind of stylistic art, but I tried. - Characters (c) Elizabeth Mayuku, Chika Umino & Kenji Kamiyama Time: ~12-15 hours Made with Photoshop CS4

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[laurasimonsdaughter]

A fairy's true name

Earlier I wrote about how much trouble I had finding even one example of a fairy trying to learn a human’s name to use it against them, but folktales where it is the other way round do exist!

Until recently the best example I had for this “use a fairy’s true name against them” plot, was Rumpelstiltskin (and all its variants, for there are many). But technically the Rumpelstiltskin plot itself is not enough to claim that knowing a fairy’s true name gives you power over them. After all, a specific deal was struck between the fairy (or dwarf, or imp, etc.) and the human, with the finding out of the name releasing the human from their debt to the fairy. (Best examples including a fairy: Peerie Fool, Tríopla Trúpla, Titty Tod).

But it turns out that the tale type “The name of the helper ATU 500” contains stories in which I would argue it is made clear that knowing a fairy’s name holds power:

In these stories a the supernatural creature in question is a helpful house spirit or neighbour to the human, but immediately leave them forever as soon as they (sometimes through trickery) find out their name, after they refused to tell them:

Hoppetînken, a mountain dwarf (German, Kuhn, 1859)

Gwarwyn-a-throt, a spirit/elf/bogie (Welsh, Rhys, 1901)

Silly go Dwt, a fairy (Welsh, Rhys, 1901)

And these stories contain what I would call “strong circumstantial evidence”:

In Winterkölbl (German Hungarian, Vernaleken, 1896) a grey dwarf who lives in a tree makes a young king guess his name before he will (somewhat reluctantly) consent to let him marry his human foster daughter (she was abandoned, he did not steal her!).

In The Rival Kempers (Irish, Yeats, 1892) an old fairy woman sets a young woman the task of guessing her name, but then gives it to her freely (with some extra help to win her good fortune), because she was polite and generous to her.

Conversely, in The Lazy Beauty and her Aunts (Irish, Kennedy, 1870) the three fairy women who help the protagonist with her spinning, weaving and sewing, actually introduce themselves by name, but they are clearly nicknames: Colliagh Cushmōr (Old Woman Big Foot), Colliach Cromanmōr (Old Woman Big Hips), Colliach Shron Mor Rua (Old Woman Big Red Nose).

But my two favourite examples are Whuppity Stoorie (Scottish, Chambers, 1858; reprinted by Rhys, 1901) and The heir of Ystrad (Welsh, Rhys, 1888, reprinted in 1901). I'll summarise them below the cut:

Whuppity Stoorie (Scottish, Chambers, 1858; quotes from Rhys, 1901)

A woman is left by her husband. She has a baby boy to feed and her only hope is that her sow will have a big litter of piglets. However the sow gets ill and as the woman weeps with the fear that the pig will die, she sees an old woman coming up the road. “She was dressed in green, all but a short white apron and a black velvet hood, and a steeple-crowned beaver hat on her head. She had a long walking staff, as long as herself, in her hand --” This “green gentlewoman” tells her that she knows the woman’s husband is gone and that the sow is sick and asks what she’ll give her if she cures the pig. The woman heedlessly promises her anything she likes. So the green woman cures the pig with a spell and some oil and then reveals that she wants to have the woman’s baby in return, thereby revealing to the poor woman that she is a fairy. The fairy is unmoved by the woman’s sorrow, but does reveal that: “I cannot, by the law we live under, take your bairn till the third day; and not then, if you can tell me my right name.” Luckily the woman overhears the fairy woman singing her own name and gets to keep her child by addressing her as such, after which: “If a flash of gunpowder had come out of the ground it couldn't have made the fairy leap higher than she did. Then down she came again plump on her shoe-heels; and whirling round, she ran down the brae, screeching for rage, like an owl chased by the witches.”

The heir of Ystrad

A young gentleman hides in the bushes to see “the fair family” dance on the river bank. There he sees the most beautiful girl he has ever seen and wants more than anything to win her for his own. He jumps in the middle of the circle of fairies and grabs her by force, while all the others flee. He is kind to her, but keeps her captive, and eventually she agrees to become his servant. She steadfastly refuses to tell him her name though, no matter how often he asks. One night he once again hides near where the fairies play and he hears one fairy lament to another that last time they were there, their sister Penelope (Pénĕlôp) was stolen by a man. He returns home joyfully, calling is favourite maid by her name, which greatly astonishes her. The young man finds her so beautiful, industrious, skilled and fortunate, that he wishes to marry her. “At first she would in no wise consent, but she rather gave way to grief at his having found her name out. However, his importunity at length brought her to consent, but on the condition that he should not strike her with iron; if that should happen, she would quit him never to return.” They marry and they lived “in happiness and comfort”. She bears him a beautiful son and a daughter and through her skill and fairy fortune they grow richer and richer. But one day while trying to bridle an unruly horse the husband accidentally hits his wife with the iron bridle. As soon as the iron touches her, she vanishes. But one cold night she comes to his bedroom window one more time, telling him that if ever her son should be cold, he should be placed on his father’s coat, and that if her daughter should be cold, she should be placed on her petticoat. Then she disappears forever.

I adore both of these stories. Whuppity Stoorie is probably the clearest example of the power of a fairy's name. But The heir of Ystrad is as good a fairy bride story as The Shepherd of Myddvai and that has been a beloved favourite of mine for as long as I can remember. Either way they're both wonderful takes on the power it grants to know a fairy's name.

[bestiarium]

The Brigdi [Scottish folktales]

The fishermen in the Shetland Islands used to tell tales of many strange and monstrous creatures that supposedly inhabited the waters around them. Of all these monsters, the Brigdi was said to be the most feared. It is usually described as a colossal, flat creature with very large fore- and hind-fins. These fins are flat and triangular and the creatures were known to hoist them in the air like a ship’s sail. This way, sailors often mistook them for other vessels while the Brigdi approached its victims, because their fins closely resembled sails. When the sailors realized the ship in the distance was actually a monster, it was already too close to escape. The Brigdi’s signature fins are also its main weapons for they have a sharp edge. As such, Brigdies were said to rush at boats and cut them in half with their fins. Other times, however, Brigdies hit ships with the flat edge of their fins, effectively crushing them. There are tales of ships returning to the harbour with one side completely smashed, having barely survived an encounter with a Brigdi.

Still other stories tell of Brigdies ‘embracing’ a vessel with two fins before diving deep below the surface, dragging the boat and its unfortunate crew down with it. To avoid this fate, some fishermen were said to carry axes so they could attack the gigantic fins if a Brigdi attempted to hold their ship.

These monsters were most commonly sighted off the eastern and northern coasts of Shetland, and usually in clear weather. To placate the Brigdies, fishermen used to throw offerings into the ocean. In particular, a bead of amber was said to be very effective. Crew took care to carry some of these when they left the port, and if a Brigdi was sighted it would disappear immediately when someone threw an amber bead into the sea.

There is a tale from the 1840’s of a Fetlar ship that was being chased by a Brigdi. The ship managed to make land and all of the crew jumped ashore and escaped. Turning back, they could see the Brigdi smashing the boat to pieces, furious that its victims escaped. Nowadays, belief in these monsters has diminished in Shetland (or became entirely extinct, quite possibly) and it is thought that the historical sightings were actually of basking sharks. These animals do not hunt people, nor are they known to attack ships. But they are huge and look scary, so it’s perfectly possible that fishermen mistook them for monsters and later exaggerated tales of these encounters to the point of fiction.

Sources: Teit, J. A., 1918, Water-beings in Shetlandic Folk-Lore, as Remembered by Shetlanders in British Columbia, The Journal of American Folklore, 31(120), p.180-201. Marwick, E., 2020, The Folklore of Orkney and Shetland, Birlinn Ltd, 216 pp. (Image source: this is the logo for the band Brigdi. Being a band logo, it’s not entirely accurate to the original myth but I rather like this image)

[blairstales]

Historic Scottish Folklore Audio Recordings

If you are interested in Scottish Folklore, you should visit the site Tobar An Dualchais. They describe it best:

"Tobar an Dualchais/Kist o Riches is Scotland’s online resource dedicated to the presentation and promotion of audio recordings of Scotland’s cultural heritage. Its principal content is songs, music, history, poetry, traditions and stories, recorded from the 1930s onwards. "

As well as insights into daily life, there are also wonderful stories on folklore. Here are some examples:

Kelpies/Each-Uisge

🔹 (link) A member of the Willock family mastered a kelpie and used it as a farm horse. 🔹 (link) A man cooking meat in a hut beside Loch na Mnà enticed a water horse out of the loch. 1958 🔹 (link) The water-horse that killed a girl. 1957 🔹 (link) Old woman approached by water horse. 1958

Fairy Mounds

🔹 (link) A girl is trapped in a mound and forced to bake. A fairy helps her escape, and is gifted with the ability to use a sickle faster than anyone(1969) 🔹 (link) They dug into a fairy knoll while ploughing. After that their animals died and they had to leave Uist 🔹 (link) A man carrying a five-gallon whisky jar went into Cnoc Glas, a fairy hillock on Barrapoll machair. The hillock closed and the man danced there for a year, until he got out the following Hogmanay.

Selkies:

🔹 (link) Woman falls for Selkie 🔹 (link) A man married a seal woman but lost her when she found her skin, which he had hidden. 🔹 (link) A Shetland seal hunter encountered a man whom he’d wounded in the form of a seal. 🔹 (link) A seal hunter was saved by a giant seal in exchange for its pup’s life. 🔹 (link) A man married a seal girl but she found her skin and escaped(1970)

Spunkies/Will-O-The-Wisp

🔹(link) Mention of stories of phantom lights. 1964 🔹(link) Story about the contributor and his brother encountering fairy lights while sleeping out on the moor one night, while out poaching on the Sabbath.

Healing Wells

🔹 (link) A magic well (Wine Fairy Well) on Yell that could cure insanity.

🔹 (link) The little people gathered once a year at a fairy well. Music could be heard during childbirths until the baby was born.

🔹 (link) Fairies frequent a well on a Shetland island, get dunk, and cause havoc.

Note:

If you like this post, I also have one about how to get free books on folklore.

[erksome]

Selkie 🦭

[margridarnauds]

ICON

[kate-m-art]

HELLO HYRULE HIGHLAND GAMES JUST DROPPED

YEEEEEEEEEE LETS GOOO

[tormxntum]

‘ 🐉 ’

Send ‘ 🐉 ’ for my muse to tell a myth / legend / folktale that they know

The gentle snoring from across the camp reminded Cailean that the two of them were the only ones awake, so his voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. "I cannae believe you've never heard the story of the selkie?" He said in a hushed voice, his accent growing thicker than usual, as it often did after a night of drinking. "A man once witnessed the most beautiful people he had ever seen dancing naked on the beach, and in the sand, he saw the skins of seals. Greedy, as always, the man stole one of the skins and locked it in his most precious chest." Cailean turned to them to see if they were still awake, and sure enough, the gentle fire lit up their eyes.

"The next morning, he returned to the beach to find that all had left but one lassie who sat naked in the sand, crying her eyes out. The skin had belonged to her... The man took her home, and they wed and had many children together, but he always kept her skin locked away forcing her to be on land. Then, one evening, he came home only to realize he had forgotten the key to the chest while he was away. She took the chance and left her children to return to the ocean." Their voice faded, but their silence was not overflowing with expectations. Then after a minute they asked: 'Why would she leave her children?' Cailean turned to them. "Well, people say that before she went into the ocean, the lass had cried out: 'Oh, I am troubled, I have seven children in the sea and seven on land!' So no matter if she stayed on land or in the sea, she would always leave someone she loved behind."

[unofficialchronicle]

Tom Spiers plays and introduces Cruel Mother (Child Ballad) 

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

Jack-o'-lanterns have such a grab bag of lore, i love it

Fire, of course, has a long history of offering protection from evil forces. During the Celtic festival of Samhain (from which many Halloween traditions originate), the veil between worlds was considered thin, and ritual bonfires reminded the spooks to stay on their side of the lane.

Many a lantern has protected the lonely traveler on a dark moonless night. But lanterns can be dangerous too—especially the supernatural ones. in certain folklore 'jack-o'-lantern' was another name for will-o'-the-wisps, atmospheric ghost lights (or as legend has it, lost souls) that appear above bogs and lure unwise wanderers into sinkholes.

Then there's the 18th cent Irish folktale of Stingy Jack, a mischievous fellow who tricked the Devil twice, exacting a promise that hell would never claim his soul. So Jack goes on his cheerful way, and dies (as humans are prone to do), and ends up at the pearly gates. Now Heaven, it turns out, doesn't want a damn thing to do with him. So Jack jaunts on down and goes knocking on the gates of hell—only to have Satan slam the door in his face! How this leads to Stingy Jack being doomed to wander the earth carrying a hollowed out rutabaga lit by an ember of the flames of hell, I couldn't tell you. But that is how the story goes.

Whether the legend of Stingy Jack inspired or fueled or was created-by the gourd-carving practice, by the 19th cent, Irish, Scottish, and Welsh alike were annually carving jack-o'-lanterns out of turnips & rutabaga & beets & potatoes, and lighting them up to ward off Jack and other wandering spirits. Immigrants carried the tradition to North America, where pumpkins were indigenous and much easier to carve.

And so the modern Jack-o'-Lantern was born!

Not that gourd lanterns were anything new. Metalwork was expensive, after all, and gourds worked as-well-as and better-than-most crops when it came to carving a poor farmer's lantern.

As for carving human faces into vegetables, that supposedly goes back thousands of years in certain Celtic cultures. It may even have evolved from head veneration, or been used to represent the severed skulls of enemies defeated in battle. Or maybe not! Like many human traditions, jack-o'-lanterns evolved over multiple eras and cultures and regions, in some ways we can trace and others we can only guess at. But at the end of the day, it makes a damn good story, and a spooky way to celebrate—which is as good a reason as any (and a better reason than most!) to keep a tradition going.

In conclusion: happy spooky season, and remind me to tell yall about plastered human skulls one of these days 🎃

srcs 1, 2, 3

[emayuku]

Seoras - Song of the Sea

I'm in love with that movie!! ♥ ♥

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

¡Estoy enamorada de esta película! TvT 

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[werecreature-addicted]

I recently learned about a Scottish folktale about a handsome fae boy that steals the virginity of any maiden that enters his wood and fails to leave a token of sorts like a ring or cloak.

And my only thought was "where can I find these woods?"

OH NO INHAVENT BROUGHT ANY TRINKETS I HOPE NO HANDSOME FAE BOY IS AROUND TO MAKE ME PAY IN A DIFFERENT WAY

[bestiarium]

The Pechs [Scottish folktales]

Old Scottish tales tell of a species of small, humanoid beings called the Pechs. These creatures were the inhabitants of Scotland in times long past. Resembling a small human from a distance, up close it was clear that they were anything but human: their arms were disproportionally long and their feet were so comically large that the creatures could use them as umbrellas when it rained. Though sometimes portrayed as bald, goblin-like creatures, in the original Scottish texts the Pechs were said to have bright red hair.

Despite their weird proportions, the Pechs are not to be mistaken for unintelligent monsters: on the contrary, they were said to be master builders and had great skill at masonry and architecture. According to an old Scottish children’s story, it was the Pechs who built the old strongholds and castles that are spread across the country. When a construction project was started, large numbers of Pechs would stand in long rows, passing stones and bricks to each other until the building was finished. Aside from their building skills, the Pechs were also renowned for their extraordinary skill at brewing ale.

But the Pechs also waged long and brutal wars, and this diminished their numbers until only a handful of them remained. For reasons unknown, the surviving Pechs eventually got into a war against the people of Scotland. The humans prevailed and eradicated the last members of this peculiar species. Or rather, almost all members, for two individuals were spared and captured alive. They were an elderly male Pech and his son, and the king of the Scots took an interest in them because he desired the secret to the renowned Pech ale.

And so the king ordered the two creatures to be brought before him. “I want to know the secret to the wonderful ale that you Pechs are known for”, he said to the two captives, “and if you refuse to tell me I will take the information from you by force. I will torture you until you submit, so it would be better for you to yield and tell me the secret now.”

The old Pech thought about it. “I can see now,” he said at last, “that there is no use in resisting. I will therefore tell you what you want to know, but first I have a condition.” “What would that be?” asked the king. “Do you promise to fulfil my request in exchange for the information about the ale, as long as my request is not in conflict with your own interests?” asked the Pech, to which the king agreed, seeing no harm in fulfilling the creature’s wish.

“I wish for the death of my son. But I do not want to take his life myself” said the Pech. The king was astonished at this outlandish and unexpected request, but as he greatly desired to know how the Pechs brewed their ale, he ordered his executioner to slay the young Pech at once.

“Now that my son is dead,” answered the elderly Pech, “there is nothing you can take from me. If he were alive, you might have tortured him and I would have caved because I don’t want to see my son suffer. But he is dead and there is nothing you can do to me: I will never tell you the secret of our ale.”

The king now understood that he had been tricked. But instead of executing or torturing the Pech, he let him go, reasoning that having lost his son and being the only surviving member of his species was the worst punishment he could give the creature.

Many years went by and the Pech was now ancient and blind. Most people forgot about him, until one day he overheard some young Scottish men boasting about their strength. The Pech asked them to feel their arms, because he wanted to compare the strength of modern humans to the strong folk of his time.

As a prank, one of the lads gave the blind Pech a strong metal tankard and pretended it was his arm. The Pech felt the object and crushed it between his fingers, stating that it was nothing compared to the true men of the past.

Eventually, the Pech passed away, and so died the last member of the Pechs. Come to think of it, this is a really depressing children’s tale.

Source: Chambers, R., 1870, Popular Rhymes of Scotland, 400 pp. (image source: red haired dwarf by GaudiBuendia on Deviantart)

[blairstales]

Selkies | Scottish Folklore

Selkies are seelie court fairy that are mostly in the form of a seal, but can also shed their seal skin and become human. This “becoming human” part has lead to many stories of human men kidnapping selkie women for brides. In fact, theMacCodrum clanin the Outer Hebrides were said to be descendants of a selkie bride, which is why members of this clan were said to have skin connecting their fingers.

"In their human form, the male and female selkies were more beautiful than ordinary mortals, though they were uncouth and shapeless as seals, their beauty only showing in their large, liquid eyes. The male selkies were amorous, and used to make expeditions ashore to court mortal women, but they would never stay with them long." A Encyclopedia of Fairies by Katharine Briggs (Published in 1976)

If I am being honest, most of the Selkie bride stories are a rather uncomfortable to read. They often have the love-stricken human man steal the seal pelt, and lock it away. In doing so, he traps the Selkie bride on land, and has no choice but to stay with him.

“Vainly she implored the restitution of her property; the man had drunk deeply of love, and was inexorable; but he offered her protection beneath his roof as his betrothed spouse. The merlady, perceiving that she must become an inhabitant of the earth, found that she could not do better than accept of the offer. “ Folk Lore and Legends of Scotland by Anonymous(1889)

As the years go on, she has children, but never stops looking longingly at the sea. In some stories, she sneaks to the beach to talk sadly with a large seal.

The stories always end with either her or the children finding her pelt. When that happens, she embraces her children one last time, then escapes to the sea.

“The large animal of the same kind with whom she had held a secret converse soon appeared, and evidently congratulated her, in the most tender manner, on her escape. But before she dived to unknown depths, she cast a parting glance at the wretched Shetlander, whose despairing looks excited in her breast a few transient feelings of commiseration. “Farewell!” said she to him, “and may all good attend you. I loved you very well when I resided upon earth, but I always loved my first husband much better.” Folk Lore and Legends of Scotland by Anonymous(1889)

Which may not be a surprise, seeing as he did kidnap her.

There are other sad stores, such as the one where a mermaid sacrifices herself to fishermen in order get a selkie his pelt back, and in doing so saves his life.

But there are stories that end on a happier note. In one, a man who is seal hunting stabs a seelkie, gravely injuring it. That selkies son comes to land, turns the human man into a seal, and brings him to their home. There, the selkies son explains that only the human who used the knife can heal the wound on his injured father. The human man does, and is allowed free, back as human. He never hunts seals again.

[authorrmbrown]

But it wasn’t frivolous at all, Cait thought. To her, it was earth-shaking, and history-making, yet as fragile as a folktale.

Song of the Stag, a sapphic fantasy inspired by Scottish independence and folklore ✨

Available on Ringwood Publishing and other major book sellers.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

If you were to make up fae courts besides the standard ones(Seelie/Unseelie and seasons for example), what would you choose? I was thinking of this cause A Court Of Fey and Flowers(the dimension 20 series) had a bunch of them(court of Craft, Wonder, Seafoam, Goblins, etc) and I thought it'd be a cool prompt.

What a fun question! I have so many complicated feelings about fairy courts and I honestly loved Dimension 20's approach! Because what by now is seen as "the standard courts" (Seelie/Unseelie, Summer/Winter, Light/Dark) are all quite modern inventions. So it really doesn't take anything away from the faerie of it all to change them.

I'd actually like to go one step further: if I was making fairy courts, I'd make them small, and local. Because I personally think that vibes better with the folktales that I know.

The concept of fairy courts is primarily based on Scottish folklore. But it was common practice there to call fairies "seelie" far before they were ever described as "unseelie". Which makes sense, because you wouldn't want to offend the fae. (Apparently in the Scots language "court" could also just mean "group" or "company", which would make "seelie court" not unlike "fair folk".)

On top of that - although there are definitely mentions of fairy queens and kings, especially in ballads - many Celtic folktales refer to a specific group of fairies living together in one mound as a "court" without implying that this is The Court that controls all other fairies. Their leader is sometimes called king or queen, but sometimes just lady or lord. And this concept shows up in Germanic folklore too, with elves and dwarves and witte wieven.

So if I was to make up fairy courts for a story they'd be very specific:

The Alder Court

The Wetland Court

The Court of Crown Hill

And those would probably just be the human names for them. The members of the court would be more likely to introduce themselves as "follower of my lady queen, ruler of all under the hill."

Alternatively, if I was going full secret urban fantasy world, I'd probably align the courts with the specific type of fae. (Which is an impossible task, but in urban fantasy you can pick and choose as you like.) So there'd be a Brownie Court, a Pixie Court, a Court of Wisps, etc. And all fae belong to that court, though spread far and wide, would answer to that ruler. I think that would be very fun, especially for the types of fae who deal a lot with humans.