All posts by scarlett

Mythology

Celtic Women: Victims and Victimizers

Celtic Women: Victims and Victimizers

Women of both Irish and Welsh Celtic mythology are integral parts of the stories they inhabit, however unflattering their portrayals may be. Even in stories where they are unnamed, imprisoned, or have little to no actual dialogue, the entire plot can hinge on a single action by the woman in question. However, how these separate mythologies portray these women could not be more different or polarized.
The first woman who stands out is Medb, the goddess/queen of Connacht from The Tain. She is arguably the catalyst for the events of the entire story. Her vain and competitive nature causes her to strike a bet with her husband, Ailill, to see who has the most wealth. When she comes up slightly short in the comparison, she launches a war to steal the prize bull of Dáire mac Fiachna (The Tain 58). It is this ruthless, blind ambitiousness that compels her character throughout the tale, and drives the fates of every man, woman, and child caught up in her wake. While Medb is clearly a very “strong female character” (a term I personally hate. You would never refer to Cu Chulainn as a “strong male character”), her degree of selfishness and willingness to throw her own people into a “warp spasm” meat grinder over and over again for a minor gain in wealth casts her in the role of the villain in this story. While Cu Chulainn is a trickster hero, Fergus is the Voice of Reason, and Ailill is the obedient husband, Medb’s heartlessness casts her as the sole legitimate antagonist in the book. What makes Medb intriguing is that her character is not portrayed as being being much different from a male. Unlike most modern female villains, she is not shown as a femme fatale of unsurpassing beauty. While she is not afraid to use her sexuality to get what she wants, she makes it clear that this is literally at her pleasure. You are left with the impression that she puts sex on the table more because she would like to bed the man in question than she thinks it will sincerely help manipulate him. Her sexuality is so completely within her control that she even outright states that one of the reasons she married Ailill was his lack of jealousy, for “if I married a jealous man that would be wrong too: I have never had one man without another waiting in his shadow.” (The Tain 53). Unlike so many other stories we have read, Medb has no fear of retribution for extramarital dalliances. She is also clearly in charge on the battlefield, if not particularly honorable, and her armies follow her in spite of some extremely questionable decisions. Clearly, there is some precedent set to instill that degree of loyalty. It is only at the end that they question her ability to lead (The Tain 251). She is determined, she is strong, she is flawed, and she is one of most real female characters we have read in both the Celtic and the Norse mythologies. The unsavory nature of her personality only serves to put her on equal footing with the men of the story, who are not much more honorable in most cases. She is painted as neither virtuous womanhood nor a spiteful bitch goddess. She is a person first, a woman second.
Contrast this with a character like Branwen from the Second Branch of The Mabinogion. Branwen is a paper doll character. She has no dimension or desire, no personal ambitions or personal quirks. She exists simply as a reason for war. She is a pawn in the games of men. When Matholwch shows up out of the blue to seek her hand in marriage, the entire proceeding is treated as if he and Llyr were trading livestock. Matholwch has not even seen Branwen at this point. When she is finally introduced, we are only told of her beauty, nothing more. She does not even speak until close to the end of the story, and then it is only in response to questions posed her about the invading Welsh armies. The very first words we hear her speak are “Though, I am no “lady” (The Mabinogion 29). Her abnegation of her status (intended ironically or otherwise) is glaring in light of her helpless enslavement and persecution as Matholwch’s chattel. We know her by the things that are done to her, not the things that she does. Her character drives the plot, not because she is at the helm or because of any manipulation on her part, but because she plays the same role as the coveted bull in The Tain. The horses that were mutilated by Efnysien play a role that is almost equal in importance to the plot (The Mabinogion 23), and receive almost as much description as Branwen .
We can see that the juxtaposition between these two women is striking. The fact that both manage to influence their stories to the degree they do despite their clear differences is interesting in light of the fact that they both come from cultures of Celtic origins and the stories were both written down around the 11th-12th century. The Irish Medb is an empowered, if not always likeable, queen who’s ambition propels the story forward. Branwen is a puppet, and a victim to her circumstances who’s presences propels the story forward. These disparate women serve as good examples of how women are portrayed in their respective mythologies as well as how their mythologies treat their women.

Mythology

Enchanted Poetic Vengeance in The Mabinogion

Enchanted Poetic Vengeance in The Mabinogion

Vengeance in The Mabinogion has a tendency to involve some form of enchantment. Contrasting this with The Tain, where time and time again vengeance involves a stone to the skull or spear up your backside during actual combat, The Mabinogion has numerous tales of revenge or villainous intent revolving around magic. It is, perhaps, the most effective use for enchantment in The Mabinogion, because it provides insight into how the ancient Welsh viewed the function of vengeance, not just as bloody retribution, but also as a “teaching moment” for morals or empathy.
In the Third Branch of The Mabinogion, Pryderi is the King of Dyfed and the son of Rhiannon. When Dyfed is magically emptied of all living people and livestock except Pryderi and his immediate family (The Mabinogion 37), he and his mother’s new husband, Manawydan, head for England to try and support themselves. After much back and forth, they return to Dyfed, where Pryderi ends up following a white boar to a caer. Once inside the caer, he touches a golden bowl that has chains that extend into the sky and becomes stuck fast, frozen (The Mabinogion 40). When Manawydan returns to the castle alone, Rhiannon chides him for not coming back with Pryderi. She goes in search of her son, and joins him in his predicament inside the caer. The caer than vanishes, along with Rhiannon and Pryderi, leaving Manawydan and Pryderi’s wife Cigfa to fend for themselves. They return to England for a time, then come back to Dyfed with some wheat to plant and try and prosper in their hollow kingdom. After planting the wheat in three different fields,  Manawydan notices that each time he is about to harvest the wheat it is all destroyed. He stands vigil at the third field and notices mice trashing his wheat. He captures one, and in a well-played moment of subterfuge threatens to hang it for its crimes. He is petitioned three times by a scholar, a priest, and a bishop, to free the mouse, however he refuses. Finally, he tells the bishop he will free the mouse on the condition that Pryderi and Rhiannon are returned and Dyfed is freed from its enchantment. He also tacks on that no retribution is to be taken against Dyfed for his actions (The Mabinogion 45). Of course, the bishop is revealed to be an enchanter seeking vengeance for Gwawl, who was put in a bag and beaten by Rhiannon’s husband Pwyll years before. The magnitude of this vengeance, decades after the fact and not even against the people directly responsible for the beating, seems over the top and extreme in its complexity, however it is important to note that no one died. For all the years of torment suffered by Pryderi and his family, there was no bloodshed. This tale is long, and it involves many dead ends and what seem to be pointless details, however this structure strengthens the impression of the state of limbo that the characters are constantly faced with in their empty kingdom. The point of this enchanted vengeance is not pain, death, or torture. Instead, they are unable to move forward, unable to thrive, only able to exist. By using enchantment, their punishment is a prolonged purgatory state from which there is no escape. Any attempt to escape (such as the various trips to England) are met with forces that drive them back to the gray, dead land of Dyfed.
In the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogion, enchantment abounds. We first encounter enchanted vengeance when Math punishes his sons for raping his foot-holder and virgin, Goewin. His method of punishing them is to turn them into different pairs of animals, one male and one female, every year (The Mabinogion 53). The first year, they are a stag and a doe, and Gilfaethwy gives birth to a fawn. The next year, they are a sow and a boar, and Gwydion gives birth to a piglet. The last year, they are wolves, and Gilfaethwy whelps a pup. The symbolic implied rape between the brothers is part of the poetic justice behind this enchantment. They have been reduced animals, which is what their behavior had already reduced them to. Each brother takes his turn as the victim, with Gilfaethwy taking double-duty, which is only fair as he was the one who raped Goewin, Gwydion was the enabler.
In the same tale, we see that Gwydion takes vengeance on Blodeuwedd for her attempt on Lleu’s life by transforming her into an owl, so that all the other birds will shun her and she will be relegated to the night for all of eternity (The Mabinogion 63). At first, this seems arbitrary, as the punishment does not tie into the crime. But on further analysis, we are reminded that Blodeuwedd is a woman who was formed out of oak, meadowsweet, and broom flowers to be the bride of Lleu (The Mabinogion 58). To exile her into darkness is a cruel fate for a creature of her nature, she has gone from the ultimate fertility figure to a predatory hunter, a woman designed to provide companionship is then shunned and reviled.
The Mabinogion has many examples of enchantment. We have women made of flowers, mysterious foal-stealing claws, magic cauldrons, and tyngeds. However vengeance is where these enchantments shine in the elegance of their construction and the chilling thoroughness of their execution.

Mythology

The Good Son- The Tain and the Mabinogion

The Good Son

There are surprisingly few similarities between the Celtic Irish mythology of The Tain and the Celtic Welsh mythology of The Mabinogion. The characterizations are vastly different, the settings are different, the social etiquette is different, even the combat styles are different. One place we see some degree of consistency is in the symbols that surround the two main heroes, Cu Chulainn and Pryderi. Many of the symbols we see in The Tain regarding Cu Chulainn are used in The Mabinogion to describe Pryderi, in spite of being very different stories written in very different styles about very different heroes.
One of the most visible examples of this symbolism is in the origins of the heroes Cu Chulainn and Pryderi. Both of their birth stories have the conspicuous presence of horses on the night of their birth. Cu Chulainn’s birth story is complicated, as he is in a way thrice conceived (and I just had an occasion to use the word “thrice” for the first time ever). The first time, Deichtine and Conchobar take shelter at house where the host’s wife goes into labor and gives birth to a boy. At the same time, a mare gives birth to two foals (The Tain 22). The next morning, the house is gone, but the boy and the foals remain. The boy survives for a few years, raised by Deichtine, but dies in early childhood. Later, she is visited by the god Lugh, who tells her he was the host the evening the child was born, and he makes her pregnant through mystical means. This baby dies before birth and is “reabsorbed” by Deichtine, and she finds herself a virgin once more (which is quite convenient). She eventually conceives Cu Chulainn by her husband, and although these seem to be separate events, they are told in a way that implies they are all somehow required in the conception of Cu Chulainn. It is as if his essence had to be filtered and distilled in this process somehow, so he could become the hero he was meant to be.
On the night of Pryderi’s birth, he vanishes from Rhiannon’s care and appears at a manor where a lord is standing watch against a great beast that is killing a newborn foal every year on that night (The Mabinogion 17). When a giant claw comes in through the window and snatches the foal, the lord hacks of the beast’s hand and gives chase. It is then that he finds the infant Pryderi and decides to raise him as his own. In this way, Pryderi is symbolically the result of multiple births, the first to his mother, Rhiannon, and the second when the lord finds and rescues him. It can be argued that his return to his real parents could be construed as a third rebirth, although that argument is a bit of stretch.
The presence of the foals, born the same night as the hero, is significant. That the horse was a symbol of fertility is not in doubt, look no further than Macha giving birth while racing against horses in The Tain to confirm that this is more than coincidence, it is a reoccurring theme (The Tain 7). In a culture that relies on the horse in battle, the horse would have held a great deal of significance as a symbol of authority and military strength. The horses being born into the world at the same time as the heroes is the equivalent of being born with a sword in your hand. It signifies his future power.
Another similarity is that neither hero goes by his name given at birth. Cu Chulainn is born Sétanta and gains the name Cu Chulainn after he kills Culann’s hound in self-defense and agrees to become its replacement, becoming “the Hound of Culann” (The Tain 84). This is his rite of passage and the point where he becomes a sworn warrior. Similarly, Pryderi starts life named Gwri by his foster parents. When his foster parents realize he is the son of Rhiannon and Pwyll and return him to the castle, his real parents rename him Pryderi, the name he will wear as ruler of the land he will now inherit (The Mabinogion 20).
Our heroes also share the common trait of accelerated growth in early childhood. This serves to set them apart from the rest of the mortal world. These heroes are, after all, more or less demigods. Cu Chulainn is the son of Lugh, and is therefore half god. Pryderi is the son of Rhiannon, and is therefore half god as well. Their accelerated growth signifies this aspect of the divine within them, as if their mortal bodies can not contain the power within them. We see similar tales of mythological figures maturing at unnatural rates in the story of Väinämöinen in the Kalevala, who is born to Ilmatar a fully formed 700 year old man, or Athena springing from Zeus’ head fully formed.
These similarities in early childhood point to both Pryderi and Cu Chulainn possibly being a common archetypal Celtic hero. Both heroes are born under auspicious circumstances and in the presence of horses, both heroes have a specific identity that they assume once they ascend from boyhood to manhood. These similarities seem to be the ingredients that are used to signify that they are heroes of supernatural origin and destined for great things.

Mythology

Mythology from a Very Rambling Pagan Perspective

Mythology from a Very Rambling Pagan Perspective

So, you want to talk about the nature of mythology. Unfortunately, in my case, that means talking about Paganism, since mythology is the source of my personal belief system. And I apologize for the rambling tone, but its hard to put into a straight up narrative. My personal take is somewhat along the lines of Jung, that mythology is basically the dream of humanity. Much like our dreams serve to work through the complexities and conflicts in our subconscious, myth serves to do the same for the collective unconsciousness. In the Pagan community, there is a lot of debate about the nature of the gods. Beliefs run from almost a secular humanist attitude, to what we refer to as “sock puppeting”, where people believe their personal relationship with a god to be so personal, they almost treat them like they are an imaginary friend. Seriously, I have heard people talk about hanging out and watching tv with Loki. It’s… sad, to say the least. I think this puts me and others like me in an unusual category, since for most people this class would be little more than an academic exercise, and they could freely speculate on the purpose mythology serves on a literary, historical, or psychological level. For those of us who actually believe and celebrate these stories, the question is about the issue my personal faith. Talk about a can of worms! While I am no stranger to the “woo woo” of the universe (show me a Pagan who hasn’t had a mystical experience of some kind and I will show you a Catholic), I can’t say that I (or most Pagans I associate with personally) take these stories as literal events, nor do I think most of us believe there is a group of immortal people living in the sky looking down at humanity with a judgmental eye. However, we still believe these things to be quite real, even though we understand this to be contradictory. The best I can describe it is that is is sort of like when you have a very vivid dream that you can’t get out of your head. It seems real, and even if you know that it isn’t, it haunts your reality, changes the way you look at things. There are levels to reality, mythology serves to wipe some of the dust off the windows between worlds. We tend to think of mythology as being only the stories of ancient religions and tribal beliefs. We forget that Christianity is mythology as well. Mythology does not mean some dusty old story with little relevance to modern life. Mythology is alive and adaptable. Pagans tend to be people who have found solace in a different world view than the Abrahamic religions and Eastern philosophies offered on the census sheet. Mythology provides a mirror to our world and ourselves, a way of looking outward as well as inward. It informs our life decisions, or modes of behavior. We model ourselves after figures in myth. Christians ask themselves “what would Jesus do?”. Likewise, Pagans tend to take the values set forth in their mythology to imitate. In modern Heathenry (you asked if Heathenry was a Pagan movement. It is a blanket term for the followers of the Norse and Germanic Pagan movement, which is actually quite varied and comes in many flavors), you tend to see people who value bravery, adventure, hospitality, kinship, and self-reliance. In followers of the Hellenic traditions, there tends to be an emphasis on intellectualism, mysticism, or artistry. The followers of the Celtic traditions tend to be a little more female-centric and nature oriented, and so on. Mythology is a blueprint to these ways of living. It provides characters who are archetypes for the people we would like to be (or avoid being in some cases). Whether you are the Hero, the Earth Mother, the Trickster, the Sheildmaiden, or the Shaman, mythology has it. Contrary to how many people view Pagans, this isn’t an elaborate game of make-believe or some Ren Faire fantasy. Maybe I feel this way because I tend to see people as their archetypes (of which we each have many), and I tend to see the world in mythic terms. Everything in life has significance, we are all stars of our own epics, we all possess the ability to become something more transcendent than the person who pays the bills, needs to get the car fixed, and gets heartburn every time they eat raw onion. Paganism is about recognizing these qualities within yourself and others and living your life in celebration of that. We are all Odin, Freyja, Medb, Cu Chulainn, and Peredur, and our world is filled with magic. That is the purpose mythology serves for me.

Mythology

Welsh Women are Punching Bags in This Book

Welsh Women are Punching Bags in This Book

What. The. Hell.

Soooo… Unlike many of those of the Pagan persuasion, I have no illusions of this great Northern European Matriarchal Paradise that once existed, where women governed and were revered as sacred vessels of the perpetual cycles of universal life blah blah blah. That never happened, and whenever I hear people spout this crap I want to smack the ever-loving Marion Zimmer-Bradley out of their heads with a history book. Were there possibly times in history where women had more power and status than others? Sure. But most of history looks a lot like The Mabinogion. I have to say, when I read the Eddas or even The Tain, it sounded like a fairly decent time in history to be a woman. Reading The Mabinogion is making me want to go all Valerie Solanas on some menfolk. From the very beginning, Peredur’s mother advises him “if you see a woman you want, take her, you’ll be a better man because of it.” Great advice, mom. Then we see Gwenhwyfar’s humiliation at the hands of the unknown knight. He douses her face and breasts with wine, cuffs her upside the head, and steals her chalice. None of this has anything to do with her or anything she herself has done, it’s all done to incite combat with Arthur’s knights. She is just one of the king’s possessions. Then we get into some serious dwarf abuse. What is it with these stories hating on dwarves? They get kicked into fire and beaten to death (is she dead? I’m not sure from the narrative). Again, she seems to just be a victim of Cai’s rather malicious nature. Then there is the countess whose brothers decide to give her against her will to Peredur to try and save their kingdom. In all these cases, these women have no character, they are not described beyond their physical appearance, and they seem completely incapable of defending themselves or standing up to their oppressors. Maybe I am just particularly sensitive to the subject because I have been working on gender roles for my research paper, but honestly, the atrocities committed against these woman makes me hate the male characters to the point where I no longer care what their mythical significance is. I have to admit, I just couldn’t finish Peredur’s story. Because I hate him. And stuff. But I did watch Excalibur this afternoon, so that counts as something, right? (Trivial side note: part of the reason I married my husband is because he can recite the Charm of Making from Excalibur. Such are the feats of strength nerds use in courting.) I did enjoy the very surreal quality of The Lady of the Well, but the story itself felt a bit rambling and confused. I know I keep criticizing these stories for their lack of character development or coherent plots, like I am supposed to be critiquing modern literature. I am actually rather disappointed with myself in my inability to wrap my mind around the Celtic and Welsh myths in a meaningful way. I have spent years studying the Norse and Germanic stories and history, but I have always dodged the Celtic stuff because I just didn’t feel the same internal pull towards them. I had hoped that this was just my own short-sightedness and that I would take to them once I delved in. I think one of the most important aspects of mythology is that people have to be able to feel it in order to truly understand it. This isn’t the academic subject it seems like on the surface, it isn’t just the study of history or literature, the meanings of these stories are important, and in the absence of being able to understand the meaning to the people who wrote them, we have to find what these stories mean to us.

If you teach this course again (and I really really hope you do, this has been fantastic and you have done an amazing job with some really difficult subject matter. I know I have groused a lot about the Celtic stuff, but the fact that you actually got me to finally read and contemplate these books speaks loudly) I think having a “cast sheet” of characters to watch for in a story before starting a story or book or encouraging students to keep their own would be great. I know it sounds simplistic, but in retrospect, this would have been a big help keeping things straight, especially during The Tain. I think I would have enjoyed the stories a bit more if I had thought of this earlier. Monkey learn!

Mythology

WTF Mabinogion, Why You So Weird?

WTF Mabinogion, Why You So Weird?

What the hell did I just read? No, seriously, what the hell was that all about? Pryderi gives his mother, Rhiannon to Manawydan… because loyalty?? Not sure. But Rhiannon seems ok with this. So tra la la, all is well until BOOM! A curse descends on the land, and all the crops and critters are lost. Rhiannon, Manawydan, Pryderi, and Pryderi’s wife Cigfa seem to be the only people living in this desolate land. So Manawydan and Pryderi decide to hunt and fish for a while. Somehow, this life becomes tiresome, and they decide to move to London and open a saddle shop. Sure, why not, two crazy kids in the big city with a dream to make the best damn saddles around. Of course, when the other saddle makers find out how awesome Manawydan and Pryderi’s Saddle Emporium is they take the logical course of action and decide to create a better product at a reasonable price to encourage a healthy and competitive market. No wait, they decide to try and KILL them. A reasonable response, don’t you think? Pryderi wants to kill them in retaliation, Manawydan says, no, let’s go into business making shields. So they do, and Manawydan and Pryderi’s Saddle Shield Emporium is a big hit. Then the other shield makers get their knickers in a twist and decide to get stabby. Pryderi wants to kill them, Manawydan says, no, let’s going to business making shoes. Thus, Manawydan and Pryderi’s Saddle Shield Shoe Emporium is born. Oddly enough, in spite of Manawydan prediction that shoemakers are yella’ bellied, they get homicidal at their success as well. Why these guys didn’t just open up Manawydan and Pryderi’s Saddle Shield Shoe Pointy Things & Seige Weapon Emporium in the first place is beyond me. Somehow, the shoemakers are the final straw, and Manawydan and Pryderi head home. One day, they are out hunting when a white boar appears and leads them to fort or caer. The dogs chase the boar into the fort, and Pryderi decides to go in after his dogs. Inside he finds a golden bowl that freezes him in place as soon as he touches it. Manawydan, like the mensch he is, waits until sundown and then just leaves without Pryderi. When Rhiannon asks where her son is, Manawydan shrugs and says, “Dunno. Somewhere.” Rhiannon is annoyed at his slacker attitude, and goes in search of Pryderi herself, only to fall victim to the same fate when she finds him. Perhaps if they had had some OSHA training at the castle, she would have known to knock him away with a stick, rather than grab it herself. Cigfa sees that only she and Manawydan are left, and she is distraught. Manawydan basically promises not to rape her (I think) and then says, “Hey, you know what we should do?” to which, Cigfa should have replied, “Go in search of our missing mates in the exact place we know they are?”. “Naaaah,” says Manawydan, “Let’s go to London and become shoemakers!” (I somehow missed the fact that the caer had vanished when I first read this… but still). “ Wait,” says Cigfa, “didn’t you and my husband try that and it ended up with hoards of wrathful cobblers chasing you with torches and pitchforks?” “Shhhhh, let’s not speak of such trivial things.”, said Manawydan the sub-genius. Off they went, and Manawydan and Pryderi’s Cigfa’s Saddle Shield Shoe Pointy Things & Seige Weapon Shoes Again Emporium is open for business. Of course, after a year of this the shoemakers once again go on a rampage. And Manawydan and Cigfa head back to their empty kingdom. This time, he plants some wheat. Just as he is about to harvest it, some magical mice destroy his crops. So he captures one in a glove and plans on executing it for it’s crimes. After a dude begs him repeatedly and in different disguises not to kill it, he finally asks they guy why he wants this mouse so badly. Guy admits it’s his wife, and that he had cursed the land in retaliation for Gwawl being subjected to Badger-in-a-Bag two stories ago. Manawydan negotiates the freeing of Pryderi and Rhiannon, as well as the restoration of his land. Then dude tells them that Pryderi and Rhiannon were held in place by door knockers and ass collars. Then I just “noped” outta there, cuz this shit be cray cray.

(I wrote this before reading the 4th branch because I was running out of time. Now I wish I had written about the 4th branch instead of this nutso thing)

Mythology

Badger-in-a-Bag!

Badger-in-a-Bag!

Wow. How awesome is the phrase “Badger-in-a-Bag”? LOVE IT. So this is my first time reading the Mabinogion, however I have read about some of the stories and characters before. So far, the writing style is…. well, let’s just say I can see the influence on English writing. It’s a bit stiff compared to The Tain, and it definitely lacks a lot of the comedy and wit (although, Rhiannon telling Pwyll that he could have spared his horse a lot of grief if he had just asked her to stop rather than chase her was a total “OOOH! SNAP!” moment). And I swear, if Pwyll said, “Between me and God” one more time… What? Is he Rainman? He starts every sentence with it!

Another contrast is the women. Oh, the women. We are only about 35 pages in and already I am leery of the way women are going to be treated in these stories. Point number one: Pwyll desires Rhiannon based solely on the fact that she is a hot chick on a fast horse. She’s the Welsh Malibu Barbie (Barbi ap Mallybw?). She manages to negotiate the marriage on her terms, but then at their “engagement party”, Pwyll ends up giving her to another guy, who clearly sees nothing wrong with this arrangement. Seriously, who wants to be married to someone who doesn’t want you? Marriage is hard enough when you both want to be there. Of course, in the end, she gets his dumb ass “badgered”, so again she wins, but what a lousy way to treat a gal. Next, she has a baby, and somehow the six handmaidens lose it. Talk about sucking at your job. Instead of butching up and dealing with the situation, or, I don’t know, LOOKING FOR THE BABY, they decide to frame Rhiannon for eating her kid. Nice. Way to throw a sister under the bus. They persist in their lies until Rhiannon is sentenced to do public penance and tell everyone her story. To make me even more rage-filled, when their lies are exposed and it is shown that Rhiannon clearly did not eat her baby (several YEARS later), not only is she not particularly bitter, NOBODY SEEMS INTERESTED IN PUNISHING THE GAGGLE OF BITCHES THAT ACCUSED HER. Why? Ooooh if I were Rhiannon I would be in a state of mind to retaliate with god-like fury. THIS calls for a warp spasm. You know, I probably would be so hateful towards these women, except 1. Backstabbing women is a hot button issue for me. And 2. They killed puppies to achieve their goal. PUPPIES. Puppy killers get no mercy from me. So far, Rhiannon seems like she’s being bullied left and right, and while in each instance she more or less comes out on top in the end, it still fills me with what my husband calls my “bear rage”.

Interestingly, Rhiannon, like Medb, is associated with the goddess of the throne, that by ritually marrying her a king married his kingdom (Proinsias Mac Cana’s Celtic Mythology- a cool book if you can find a copy). So far, the two seem vastly different as characters. Rhiannon seems to fit that description more, as she seems easier to manipulate in this story and lacks her own motives. She seems less like an actual queen and more like the embodiment of a concept. Medb was nothing BUT motive and seems more like a leader, albeit a lousy one.

Don’t get me started on Branwen. Abused, enslaved, held captive, and then they throw her baby on the fire? Again, we have no idea what her motives or desires are in life. She’s just there to be the Golden Vagina that men want… because vagina. She has zero agency or character. Something tells me The Mabinogion is going to be like a Lars von Trier movie: filled with woman being victimized, abused, and traded like cattle. (Seriously, have you seen his movies? I mean, I actually loved Dogville, but it’s hard to take everything the leads up to the ending. Breaking the Waves was like some kind of really negative personal fetish fantasy, and Dancer in the Dark was like making a musical out of torture porn. Melancholia basically makes a woman’s inability to control her emotions the cause of the apocalypse. I won’t even watch Antichrist, seeing as the woman in the story is supposed to be the titular character, not to mention she mutilates her genitals with scissors. Eeech! I am convinced the man just hates women.)

Mythology

Rough Week

Rough Week

This weekend it was very difficult to write. I’ve had several rather serious personal dramas fall in my lap, and even though I’ve done the reading I am finding it hard to concentrate on writing my journal. I have also been spending a large amount of time researching my research paper, and my brain is having a hard time shifting gears. I have also noticed that I am having a hard time writing about The Tain in general, even though I didn’t have a problem discussing it in class. I finally figured out that this is because there is something about the style of the tale that lends itself more to dynamic discussion rather than dry prose. I mentioned in class that I felt the Norse wrote great poetry, but the Celts told great stories. Maybe it’s because I am used to dissecting the symbolism and cultural relevance of the Norse stories, but I haven’t really gotten the feel for the Celtic stories. I find the complete futility of the entire raid baffling. All these people die to serve the egomaniacal needs of one pair of jackasses, and in the end both the bulls die anyway (cue 70s sitcom ironic trumpet “loser” sound effect). What in the heck was that all about? I keep looking for some deeper, esoteric wisdom to be gleaned from all this, but I can’t even come up with something akin to a simple moral parable. Were these stories for the sake of entertainment? Historical documentation? I think that their lack of “mythic” feel is what has made them hard for me to put into context. I can discuss what happened in the stories, but not what it means. The best I have been able to reason is that these stories aren’t any kind of moral or spiritual guide, and they aren’t strictly historical documentation, rather they feel like a map of ancient Ireland. The constant listing of names and places, who did what where, etc seems like a way of mapping out the history of the land, rather than the people. As someone who was a habitual gypsy in her youth, I often joke about how the worst thing about moving to a new town is the way people give directions based on what USED to be there. When I first moved back to Seattle from Los Angeles, I had a job in the Greenlake area. Any time I asked how to get somewhere, I was invariably told a list of directions based on where the “Honey Bear Bakery used to be”. Just this weekend, my husband and I drove to the Mukilteo area where I grew up to visit my family. We had to meet my mother at a restaurant in Everett for lunch. I knew the restaurant was where “The Ranch” used to be, and I remembered where “The Ranch” used to be because that’s where my mother met stepfather #2. I knew it was past the apartment complex where my friend Shanel and I got drunk in high school and she had a huge fight with her boyfriend, so I ended up walking 5 miles home at 3am in lousy shoes. I also knew that if we reached the mall that I worked at when I was 18 we had gone too far. By describing the landscape in a way that is relatable and personally engaging gives it meaning. Since ancient Ireland didn’t have signs, stores, and Google Maps, being able to point to the 3 hills Fergus sliced the tops off of was useful. Being able to envision Cu Chulainn’s deeds and movements across the countryside gives you a visualization of what the lay of the land is. As was pointed out in that article you sent, being able to clearly delineate property boundaries would have been crucial to a culture that practices pastoral transhumance. The seasonal migration of cattle with out barbed wire fences, maps, or signposts would risk confrontation between herdsmen, or worse you could end up not finding your pasture land if you didn’t have a way of navigating efficiently. And as anyone here can attest to, navigating in a gloomy, overcast environment without starts or sun to guide you can be tricky. By generating a history of the land with outrageous stories and great feats that carve the landscape, you create memorable landmarks to navigate and mark borders. I think this is a valuable illustration of the different functions of myth in a culture. The Norse used their myths to guide behavior and turn an eye inward. They wanted to make sense of their place in the world. The Celts wanted to describe their world to avoid conflict and strife and ensure survival.

Mythology

WARP SPASM!

WARP SPASM!

I think I have figured out my problem with writing the journal entries, especially for the Celtic portion of the class. I am so accustom to writing in this very formal, dry tone for my clergy classes, and I am really wanting to just let loose and blather on here. So, I’ma gonna blather, mmm kay?

I am still feeling a love/hate thing with The Tain. When it is good, it is brilliant. This is one of the most amazingly quotable books ever written. Seriously, these are better comebacks than you will find at a Dean Martin roast. There is this deadpan humor that absolutely floors me. The things people say when they are dying are bizarre, I can’t even tell if they are supposed to be humorous or not. When he kills Ferdia, Ferdia actually says, “That is enough now. I’ll die of that”. I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or not. On the one hand, the scene is very serious and poignant, as Cuchulainn is killing his foster brother by Scathach. On the other hand, what a weird and wonderful thing to to say. The death of Etarcomol is gruesome, but so extreme and outrageous it’s hard to see it as less than extremely gory slapstick. It’s like a Monty Python skit. The sheer volume of effortlessly brutal slayings in this book is absurd, even by mythological standards. I find the non-stop onslaught of hyperbolic narrative of Cuchulainn’s deeds extraordinary. In almost every hero myth I have ever encountered we are reminded how exceptional and superhuman the hero is, but Cuchulainn edges into the realm of the Tall Tale. He doesn’t just kill men, he obliterates them. In the words of my husband, “I’ma gonna kill ya, swim across the River Styx, and kill ya again! All without mah water wings!” (My husband does the best redneck battle taunts you have ever heard. Of course, he also once chased a friend’s abusive boyfriend through the soft North Carolina night while brandishing a trident, so yeah, he is no stranger to the warp spasm. I have no idea where he got a trident, however, if nothing else it. worked as a psychological deterrent and the guy stopped hurting his girlfriend). He is the ultimate in swagger, capable of “feats” and stunts that aren’t even superhuman, they defy all laws of natural reason.

I wanted to add that I was a bit befuddled at his encounter with The Morrigan. I am wondering if there will be more on that later, but it was a bit of a head scratcher for me. What does she want? Why? The only way we know it is specifically her is the fact that the title of the chapter mentions her. I know from outside reading that she is associated with cattle as well as war, but I guess I am stuck in the Norse paradigm of fate being something already determined, so her attempts to change the course of battle are hard for me to understand. I do find the overlap between her and the valkyries fascinating. She is a chooser of the slain in her own right, and associated with crows and ravens. I also find it telling that the Celts, who were a pastoral culture prone to cattle raids, would combine their Cattle Goddess (usually the Cow Goddess is a nurturing, life affirming figure) with their War Goddess. She’s like a mythical Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, two great tastes that taste great together. I must learn more about this…

I feel like I really need a stronger background in this subject matter to fully appreciate it. I should have spent this past week studying this, but I was wrapped up in working on my research paper, practicing the ukulele, catching up on housework, and getting ready for Yule. Now I just feel like a chump, since we are almost done with the book and I don’t have nearly the depth of understanding I would like to have. Of course, it’s taken years to have the modest level of understanding I have of Norse mythology, so I am probably expecting way too much of myself. It’s more than just knowing the stories, it’s knowing what the stories are about, what they most likely meant to the people who told them. I just don’t have the broad spectrum of knowledge behind it to feel confident in how I am interpreting the story.

Mythology

Meh

Meh

So, I am trying to wade through this book. I have to be honest, so far this story is less than scintillating for me. There is a great deal of detail to the stories, and sometimes that makes for magnificant yarn spinning, other times it’s like painting a small room hot pink. The tale gets weighed down with the utter hyperbole and over-abundance of names and places. I think this story stars every single living human in Ireland at the time it was written. I am desperately trying to see it as more than just a really flowerey story about cattle rustling, but I have fallen asleep twice now while reading it. The thing that makes this really lame is that not all of it is bad, the parts that are good are BRILLIANT. I am trying to flesh out my knowledge of the mythoilogy outside of the Tain, but it’s a lot to read in a short amount of time.

As far as why the story is the way it is, I think I am starting to get it. I think I have found one image to completely sum up ancient Celtic culture.

Yep. That pretty much says it all.

The Táin Bó Cúailnge is about a cattle raid. Medb decides she wants Dáire’s splendiferous bull so her wealth will be equal to her husband Ailill. Of course she does, this is a perfectly reasonable justification for war. These folks declare war at the drop of a hat. I think it’s kind of interesting that they seem to hide behind the geis and other restrictions to limit the number of casualties they have and avoid battle altogether.

The Pangs of the Ulstermen is a perfect example of this. Time to march off to battle? UGH! LABOR PAINS! No war for you today my friend (or the next 5 days and 4 nights).This isn’t cowardice (I dare you to day that to their faces), it’s casualty abatement. And seriously, how many times are they going to use this gimmick? I envision their enemies rolling their eyes and checking their watches. Another way of avoiding battle? “Oops! We can’t just go charging in, the guy we want to fight has left this hobbling device here with a message! We wouldn’t want to make him mad, now, would we?”. Why waste the lives of dozens of warriors when you can just send Cú Chulainn in to do single combat with one guy? Contrary to popular belief, life was not any cheaper then than it is today, just more fleeting if you weren’t careful. A king needed his soldiers. If you can resolve a conflict with a minimum of death and without losing face, that was a win-win situation for everyone involved.

I know I am supposed to write more, but I spent all day trying to catch up and my brain is completely fried. To the point where I am adding pictures of Bugs Bunny to my mythology homework assignments. I think I am going to do better with the class discussion with this one.

(I actually started writing this before I read your email with the pages about rituals of conflict reduction. I don’t know if these subjects are related, but it would be funny if they were!)

I will leave you with a lousy haiku:

Rolling hills of green

Cú Chulainn is a bad ass

What’s with the place names?