#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.

[haveyoureadthisqueerbook]

[mecthology]

Scottish Folklore’s Maggy Moulach.

Known for her diligence in household chores, she even served as the family’s banshee, foretelling deaths within the clan. Maggy was also known to be a chess mentor to the clan chief, helping him outwit rival leaders. With her hair-covered hands or sometimes even in the guise of a grasshopper, she was a unique figure in Highland folklore.

Maggy’s helpful nature took a dark turn when she was taken for granted by a greedy farmer. After firing all his workers, the farmer overworked Maggy to the breaking point, ultimately leading her to abandon her brownie ways and become a boggart—a trickster spirit known for causing trouble and harm. From that point, she was no longer a helpful creature but a figure of mischief and menace, capable of spoiling food and harming animals.

Maggy’s son, Brownie Clod, joined her in her work, guarding the mill at Fincastle. One night, a young girl, desperate to get flour for her wedding cake, broke into the mill and accidentally scalded Brownie Clod, causing his death. Initially, Maggy believed it was a clumsy accident, but when she overheard the girl boasting about killing a brownie, her grief turned to rage. Maggy retaliated by transforming once again into a boggart and killing the girl, showcasing the peril of disrespecting these mystical creatures

Follow @mecthology for more mythical information and lores❗️

Source: wikipedia.org, folklorescotland.com

[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)

[thedailydescent]

i'm really tired right now and this will be incoherent but highlander bodice rippers, the movie poor things, using scottish folktales in your work when you're not scottish.

this of course goes for everyone who takes stuff from cultures that are not their own to use in their work: removing all the context of when, where, and WHY these things were written, dumbing down or erasing the historical elements completely, and you're left with something unoriginal and empty, easily consumed by the masses. because you just really wanted to write something sexy or scary, but like...surface level.

[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."

[emayuku]

Seoras - Song of the Sea

I'm in love with that movie!! ♥ ♥

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¡Estoy enamorada de esta película! TvT 

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[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

[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

[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.

[saltedsnailstudio]

Ghost Turnip

Linocut print on kitakata paper.

This guy is inspired by the “ghost turnip” plaster-cast model in the National Museum of Ireland that was created by museum artist Eileen Barnes from a turnip jack-o-lantern donated in 1943 by Roos Ní Braonáin, a school teacher with a desire to preserve the history of the style of Jack-o-lanterns that were popular in Ireland in the 19th and early 20th centuries.

In the states today, carved pumpkin jack-o-lanterns have become completely ubiquitous in late October. This tradition actually comes to us from Irish and Scottish immigrants who brought over the practice of carving faces into turnips/other locally-available root vegetables & lighting them from inside with a candle around Samhain.

The terminology “jack-o-lantern” has a particularly storied past: It’s usage in the 1600s was basically interchangeable with “will-o-the-wisps” which refers to mysterious, ghostly lights seen over peat bogs. It isn’t until the 1800s that we see the term “jack-o-lantern” used to refer to a carved vegetable. It’s believed the term is derived from an Irish folktale about a fiend named Jack who tricked the devil and must wander the earth for all eternity with just a (turnip) lantern to light his way; Stingy Jack, Jack-of-the-lantern, jack-o-lantern.