[Originally 1 September 2019;
revised and expanded]
“Fantasy
is a natural human activity. It certainly does not destroy or even insult
reason; and it does not either blunt the appetite for, nor obscure the
perception of, scientific verity. On the contrary. The keener and
the clearer is the reason, the better fantasy will it make.” (370)
- J.
R. R. Tolkien “On Fairy Stories” in
Tales from the Perilous Realm (2008)
I have
been asked a number of times over the years why Fairies and the Fairy-otherworld
so often appear in the poems and stories that I write. Any response to
that question cannot help but stir the cauldron of deep memory, tapping into (1)
my early engagement with Neo-Pagan spirituality in the 1970’s and then (2) the
touchstones and runes of my own development as a poet-mystic and an earthen
naturalist through the 1980’s and into the 90’s. This blog arises out of
the confluence of these two streams in my spiritual and poetic development,
driven by the runic question, “Am I one the Way to Wisdom?”
I want to
explore the role of Fairies in my creative work by presenting a few of the traditional
themes of Fairy lore that have inspired me over the years, and what they have
meant for my poetics and aesthetic faith in life-itself. For this to come to fruition, I will first explore
the nature of Fantasy, for the Fairy world comes to presence though the
marvelous wordings and worldings of that ‘genre’ – that state of mind; that
praxis – making possible the fairy-touched Mind and Heart.
A note on terminology: When I refer to my own
experience and to how I learned about the Faery world in my adolescence, I will
tend to use to the “ae” spelling. When I
am referring to historical and literary Fairy lore, I will use the “ai”
spelling. I will always capitalize
“Faery” and “Fairy” in this blog out of respect for them; however they may ‘exist’_
or ‘not.’
Simply
put, fantasy is a mode of the Creative Imagination; by the use of which we
engage in making things ‘appear’ that are not ‘here’ in our ‘normal’ – that is,
normalized and normalizing – everyday worlds. To engage in fantasy is to
imagine and then experience ‘another world;’ entering into it in any number of
ways; poetic and aesthetic, intellectual, intuitive and sensual—in any
combination. A fantasy world, so imagined, is different from our ordinary
lived-in worlds, but capable of speaking to our lives in potentially
significant ways; from over the hills and (sometimes, not so) far away. Those
fantasy stories and worlds to which we tend to return, over and over again, are those that
have spoken to us; existentially and spiritually, metaphorically and by way of
analogy. When we read a fantasy story or watch a fantasy film or play, we
are presented with possible gateways into alternate realities that may act to mirror
our own here-and-now; showing us things we have not before seen.
Fantasy
thus has the potential to contribute to a widening perspective on the world, leading to a better -- i.e., wisening -- understanding of ourselves and others.
To encounter otherworldly beings; to be imaginatively in their
company—has the potential to open the doors of perception. To imaginatively travel and adventure with them may help us to delve a deeper, more
compassionate well of understanding with regard to ourselves and others. In fantasy, the horizons of our consciousness
are expanded, as we experience other worlds and their inhabitants. Returning home, the practice of fantasy may therefore help us toward an
openness – and love of – otherness in the actual world.
The ordinary rounds of our life will never
seem quite so narrow once we are practiced at fantasy; which provides us with pathways
by which to step out of the often narrow confines set for us by our
socialization and that are often enforced by those with the power to define them as ‘normal.’ While this liberation through particular flights of fantasy is
temporary, the practice of fantasy can create an Innerland; our Imagination's Realm--which persists and underlies our day-to-day consciousness even when not engaged in fantasy. Having such an Innerland can be inspiring, sustaining and empowering.
An
old friend of mine used to say that fantasy is like rising, flying or being
lifted by Inspiration up above the trees of a Great Forest and from there –
from that new vantage point – seeing broader, often far-off horizons within
which a life could be lived more fully; more humanely--differently than we have heretofore lived. The ‘Forest’ in
this simile represents our actual world and then those worlds – cultural,
social and historical – that establish the very horizons into which we are
thrown by being born. While ‘good’ in an ordinary sense; grounding us in
practical ways of living while orienting us to our culture’s rules and
parameters, these circumscribed horizons can and often can be transcended as
we grow and mature; as they are merely ‘ours’ – if we are to achieve a wider,
deeper, broader perspective for living these brief lives with which we are
gifted. [1]
For me,
the Faeryfolk have been a long-standing and important element of authentic fantasy.
My fascination with Fairies no doubt arose from my first introduction to their lore
during my teenage years. That period of time was a positive influence in
my spiritual, mystical and imaginative development. There was a definite dimension of Faery
mysticism in the way in which we celebrated the seasons of the Earth, communed
with Nature, practiced the Arts & Craefts and engaged with the ‘spirit
world.’ An entry in Doreen Valiente’s An ABC of Witchcraft:
Past and Present (1973) – a book I read and loved reading
– contained some of my earliest touchstones of Faërie. I remember underlining these two sentences in
my first copy of the book:
“The Realm of Faërie is often conceived of as being a beautiful
but uncanny place which is underground, actually in the earth.” (120)
“[T]hey had two characteristics which their Celtic neighbors
found strange and disconcerting. They
were people of the night, who would move and work in darkness, or by moonlight;
and they preferred to wear little or no clothing, or the least that the climate
would permit.” (118)
Such ideas were among the earliest intimations I had of a Faery-poetics. My aesthetic and spiritual fascination with
the night, and with darkness and the Moon was surely encouraged by such texts. As anyone who has read my blogs knows, I am one
who loves walking in the night and being out under the Moon's gaze, reveling in her light!
Later,
in my early to mid-twenties, my reading of 19th century British and
Irish literatures deepened my understanding of the Fairies, and expanded my
comprehension of the themes, customs, and narrative motifs associated with
them. Reading W. B Yeats’ The Celtic
Twilight (1905) and Lady Gregory’s Gods and Fighting Men, for
instance, drew me into the realms of Celtic myth and legend, in which was bodied-forth
many elements of Fairy folklore.
I
was deeply drawn to Celtic spirituality, mysticism and mythology in the 1990’s,
and found the stories of Fairies to be integral to Celtic myth and legend.
The Fairies always seemed to ‘be there,’ whether present in the story or not,
and I often found myself ‘Faery-haunted;’ albeit in an imaginative and poetic,
rather than ‘superstitious,’ sense—whenever engaged with Celtic Faery stories.
As
I learned more about the Fairies, it became apparent that they were (and are)
associated with the Moon, which is referred to in Fairy lore as “the Sun at
Night,” and “The Lamp of the Faeryfolk.”
The Moon is often a presiding ‘deity’ as well as a natural influence in
much Fairy lore. Under the inspiration
of the Moon, I have often experienced a ‘flight of fantasy,’ imagining things
that are beyond the usual scope of our lived-experience and that travel me into
other-worlds; other 'places' – refreshing the soul and the mind in potentially revelatory
scenes and vistas; great olde forests and majestic mountains, and many other scenes.
Fairy
fantasy allows us to step back from the ordinary world in which we live,
day-to-day, and find time for resourcement in refreshing dreams. This is
a kind of escape that has the potential to revitalize one's whole being, without
having needed to abandon our ordinary lives. An
‘escape’ into Fantasy and the Fairy otherworld is not a desertion of the actual
world. Rather it involves going on an imaginative journey,’ ‘adventure’ or ‘quest,’ from which
we eventually return to face another day [2].
We may come home from a Fairy-fantasy with hope renewed to some degree; inspired by the fantastic experiences we
have had – with a sense that we might be able to change and live a better, wiser life; one mirroring
the fantastic, even if only in minute ways, at first; working to make our day-to-day
existence a more humane place to be—for ourselves and others.
That
Fairies are often ‘hidden’ and yet ‘present’ in one’s ordinary timespace is a primary
aspect connecting them to Mystery; i.e., all that is beyond our cognitive and
existential ‘reach’ in Earth & Cosmos.
This theme intrigued me from the first time I first became aware of it! The Fairyfolk were said to live in caves, under lakes,
behind waterfalls and in the great earthen mounds scattered across the various Celtic landscapes;
these iconic places emerging in our dreaming under
the influence of a Fairy fantasy. The Fairyfolk cannot normally be plainly seen; there
is a sense of mysterious presence in their being near us—'known’ to us or ‘not.’ They might be – and are often said to be – ‘right
beside us,’ in a world just ‘beyond’ what is invisible to most of us_ most of
the time.
By
the time I was in my thirties I was beginning to write poems and stories employing
what had evolved into a ‘Fairy poetics’ over the years. I was exploring the mysteriousness of the Fairy
world via symbols, icons, metaphors and themes drawn from their lore. I pondered the nature of their existence,
studying various theories as to their reality; the primary quest concerning whether there was anything
'real' beyond our creative imaginings of the Fairies—for instance, that they might be a
memory of some historical people? Some
writers have suggested that they might be the earliest human inhabitants of
what are now Ireland, Scotland, Wales and England, and I allow that there may
be some historical basis to this idea; though it is quite scant.
I
was introduced to the Faeryfolk, however, under this idea; the euhemerist
hypothesis as it is called by historical scholars and folklorists—that the Faeries
were a mythologized memory of the prehistoric peoples of the lands later
inhabited by Celts, then the Anglo-Saxons and finally by the Norman invaders of
Britain. Suggesting this, the Old Irish myths contain a story that the Fairyfolk made an
agreement with the first incomers – i.e., the Celts in the Iron Age [3] –
to live ‘beyond the sídhe (pronounced “shay”), while the Celts settled and
occupied the above ground world; the ordinary, naturalistic world in which we
all live and have our dwelling. In the myths it is Amairgin – the Poet of
the people called the Milesians; the first ‘invaders’ of Ireland – who strikes this deal with the
indigenous inhabitants. I long pondered
whether this story could be a trace-memory of that early time; a myth that
‘remembers’ an ‘event’ of the past? Or perhaps, as I later accepted, it
is the ur-story; an archaic ‘origins myth’ – of the Fairyfolk.
As
I studied Irish mythology I became familiar with the Old Irish name for them: Sluagh-Sídhe
(pronounced “slew-ah-shay;”) which means “People of the Sídhe; (i.e., ‘mounds
and hillocks, etc., in which they were said to live). In Ireland they
were often associated – if not identified – with the Tuatha Dé Danaan
(pronounced “too-ha jay don-awn”), which means “People of the Goddess Danu;”
She being one of the “All-Mother” figures in the Irish myths; i.e., “The Great
Goddess.” These mythic peoples – those granted the underground
realm as their home by Amairgin – are said to have been of slightly smaller
stature than the people amongst whom they lived, but definitely ‘small
humanoid’ peoples; not ‘insect sized’ and able to hide under flowers in the
garden! [4] Of this ‘reduction in size’ theme that is so
prominent in the Fairy stories of the last couple centuries, Caitlín & John
Matthews lamented, in their Encyclopedia of Celtic Wisdom
(1994), that:
“The name ‘Faery’ has
acquired unfortunate connotations, evoking images of butterfly winged and
saccharine creatures slightly bigger than insects. If we are to have any
understanding of the people of the sídhe in Celtic tradition, we must
erase such connotations and understand that they have a far greater stature and
power than we can conceive. Immortal, able to pass between the worlds at
will, with resources that seem magical to humans, they appear as major
protagonists in Celtic tradition, both then and now.” (388)
The
Matthews here touch upon a number of key elements in the lore, opening us to mystery and
strange experience. First, that the Fairyfolk are “immortal” and, secondly, that
they have magical abilities. These elements
were among the many facets of the Faery-faith as I was first introduced to it.
The sum of this is that to experience the Fairyfolk is to encounter – and be
encountered by – something more than our own kind of being; which as such will inspire
both wonder and awe in our mortal souls.
The
Sluagh-Sídhe are one fictional, imaginative cypher for what is beyond
what we comprehend and understand as the mortal animals that we are. They stand for what transcends what we have
discovered – via the arts and sciences – about Earth & Cosmos and ourselves
as a manifestation of the physical processes of Nature. When Faery appear
in a story or poem I’ve read or written, it usually leads to an epiphanic experience;
those sudden moments of being lifted ‘out of ourselves’ or into a ‘higher’
understanding, if only – usually – for a twinkling of time; after which we
return to our actual worlds, somewhat wisened or at least a bit more 'awake,' spiritually and existentially.
Their presence in our creative dreaming points to the limits even of the
imagination! Fantasy paves the way to the Fairy-world. Their presence in a story may ignite us into
moments of vivid self-transcendence.
Whether
or not the Fairyfolk are a memory of actual historical peoples, the lore that
has come to surround them has heft and girth, pointing as it does to the unknown
and (probably, in the final analysis) unknowable in Earth & Cosmos.
Some of the themes that have inspired my poetic thinking and expression over
the years are grounded in the mythic ‘fact’ of their living in an ‘otherworld’
into which humans can pass and sometimes return from, by stepping on a “stray
sod” [5] or passing through a “thin place”
between our world and theirs.[6]
Dwelling in hillsides and under mounds, in tunnels [7]
and caves, as well as at stone circles, crossroads, sacred springs and wells,
the Sluagh-Sídhe are found to exist in a world parallel to our own, into
which we may sometimes ‘see’ and even have experiences, especially at the
end-of-year harvest festival of Samhain (31 October; pronounced “sow-en”), when
the veil between the worlds becomes ‘thin’ for a night. [8]
This
crossing-over and back between worlds – the Fairies coming into our world; and
we possibly stepping into theirs in waking fantasy – can
and does happen at any time of the year. When Fairies
are nearby -- stories, myths and legends indicate -- mortals may get a sense of their presence experienced as that primal ‘eerie-ness’ or ‘uncanniness’ so
often still found expressed in our gothic and ghost lore. I knew that feeling by the time I was 12, and
still experience it today in the presence of the Mysterious; whether expressed
as a Fairy encounter or as a ‘divine’ encounter—both being poetic and
imaginative ways of metaphoring strange-experiences carrying us beyond the
ordinary realm.
Other
poetic themes that have inspired me include the fact of the Fairies having
special trees and crags, groves and other places that are sacred to them, and
at which they may occasionally be encountered. Of their sacred trees,
Dairmuid Mac Manus noted, in his classic book, Irish Earth Folk (1959),
that “The Fairy folk are quite discriminating in their choice of trees, and the
site of each tree is an important matter.” (48) The lore almost
universally bears witness to their deep love trees and sylvan places. They favor Oak, Ash, and Thorn trees, the
Rowan and the Hazelnut; the latter being featured in those mysterious tales of
haunted pools where sacred salmon lived under the overhanging boughs of a magical
Hazelnut Tree. At such a pool, one could gather the sacred Hazelnuts of Wisdom!
Regarding both the Hazelnut and the Blackthorn
– another favorite of the Faery – Dairmuid Mac Manus said:
“The Hazel, one of the most important of all, goes back in
Irish mythology to an honoured place in the dim mists of the past. Then
the hazel nut was the repository of all knowledge, as was the apple in
Eden. No wonder the ancient gods and the spirits of today are reputed to
revere and care for it. Of the other trees, Fairies do well in cherishing
the Blackthorn, for it is one of the loveliest trees in the Irish countryside,
especially in early spring when its masses of bright, white flowers contrast so
strongly with its leafless black twigs; and the toughness of its branches is
proverbial.” (46-47)
Trees
have long been respected and protected in countries of Celtic ancestry in part
because they were sacred to the Fairyfolk. This tradition still survives
today. Strange encounters were often had at trees that were ‘Fairy-haunted,’
for good or ill.
Fairies were sometimes called “the Gentle Folk” or "the Gentry" as
a term of respect and dignity. They were
– and are – known to be able to be great friends to those mortals befriended by
them, though, if crossed, they could be quite nasty; playing tricks on those
who offended them—all such antics aiming, however, at calling attention to how
they had been misused or betrayed. The
resolution of this tricksiness is a recompense being ‘paid’ – symbolically or
literally – in order to re-establish a just relationship with their friends on
this side of the sidhe.
Another
key theme in the folklore of the Fairyfolk that made them at home in my
Creative Imagination is their close association with music. They are said
to be expert musicians and singers, the harp and later the fiddle being their
favorites, though they play a wide variety of instruments. Their presence
is often associated with a mystical music; the coel-sidhe –
(“kay-ole-shay;” the “music of the sidhe"). Tom Cowan said of
the role of music in Fairy-lore, in his fascinating book Fire in the Head
(1993), that:
“For the Celts, both Pagan and Christian, the encounter with faerie
is often heralded by ethereal music, usually described as “the most beautiful
music” ever heard, or “like no human music.” Indeed, sweet Fairy music is
an essential component of the Otherworld. It can lull mortals into an
enchanted sleep or a shamanic state of consciousness. … the music
is often heard on lonely roads, late at night, or in the forests, emerging from
the Hollow Hills or from deep within the earth.” (72)
It
is the coel-sidhe that I was suggesting the characters in my story
“Foundations at Ross Falls (20 March 1997) heard, [9]
while leaving a rustic waterfall at night; though in the story the characters
think the music sounds like that of monks chanting an office in Latin down at
the base of the secluded, lonesome waterfall.
Another story of an encounter with a Fairy band by mortals is in my book
Tales from the Seasons, and is called “The Elfin Tree Porch” (pp.
388-402).
One
old Fairy theme that has long haunted me is that of a mortal being carried away
into the otherworld and kept in thrall to one of the Fairyfolk – e.g., often a Faery
Queen or Princess – and then, after a time, being returned to this world,
perhaps with magical powers or creative gifts; enabled by their encounter in
Faërie to become great poets, healers or wise advisors to their communities. [10] This theme is expressive of the
transformational nature of a Fairy encounter.
Stories with this theme were said to explain the origin of the genius
and creativity of a particular musician or poet – e.g. Thomas the Rhymer – who were thereafter said
to be ‘Fairy Gifted.’ Tom Cowan (1993) tells
the story of this poet and his experience, saying:
“One day a young poet and harper named Thomas was sitting under
the Eildon tree when a beautiful woman rode up on horseback. She was the Queen of Elfland, and She
enchanted Thomas with her beauty, luring him into the Faery Realm where he
remained for seven years, enjoying her sexual favours but always longing to
return to mortal life. In time she
released him and he returned to ordinary reality, but the queen’s farewell to
him was a gift that would render him forever a stranger among mortals: the
inability to speak anything but the truth.
For the rest of his life Thomas the Rhymer lived with the burden of
truth; he could neither utter a falsehood, nor overlook deception.” (73)
Being
transported into the Fairy-realm may also have an element of testing to it; the
Fairies seeking to determine if you are worthy of such a calling as Poet,
Mystic, Magician, Druid, et cetera.
For
myself, such tales played into my evolving experience of “The Muse;” [11]
i.e., the ‘source of inspiration and creativity’ in us—and the poetics that
have been generated out of that experience. The ‘Faery Queen’ in such stories
as the one above I always see as a metaphor for this ‘source.’ She
‘abducts’ us; most usually on Moonlit nights—and then returns us to the mortal
world more inspired than we were before we were ‘abducted.’ The ‘abduction’ here is a metaphor for ascent
into fantasy and the broadening of one’s vision of Faerie characteristic of such a state of self-transcendence.
Many
of the story elements that resonate with me most in Fairy-lore allude to the
processes and experiences of entering a creative state and therein being
inspired. That you can step on a ‘stray sod’ and slip into the Fairy-world
metaphors my experience of wakening into an imaginative state of mind and then –
by way of poetic belief; which is a function of being actively engaged in fantasy – being inspired
to write and compose something with that ‘weird’ quality to it that is so
characteristic of Fairy-touched arts and craefts.
Fairies
are also said to often be encountered in strange, abandoned places—another theme
that inspired me when I was young and that keeps me open to the mysteries of our
mortal existence. Places of once-human-habitation that are now lonesome
and in various stages of decay, speak to the way of all things in a universe
wherein time is determined by entropy – the Second Law of Thermodynamics – and
are thus haunted by their past; which is embodied in the present of their
decayed state. They are haunted by the
memory of human presence and, by extension, by present ghosts, Fairies and
other spectral ‘critters;’ all such beings evanescent of the liminal dimensions
of our existence. Ruins are places
passing into non-existence; just as we all are; once-upon-a-time—yet to come. To encounter Fairies or other mythic beings
in a creative fantasy at ruins enables us to explore the presencing of mortality
in all that is around us. I have long found
ruins [12] to be among the favorite haunts of
Faeries!
A
Fantasy-guided Creative Imagination at-play with any one of these themes will oft
be taken to the limits of their known lived-in mindscapes, opening the practiced dreamer-imaginer
to fantastic visions, ideals, possibilities and transformative conceptions.
For me, the strangeness that emerges as a story waxes Fairy oft begins with someone
saying—
“I was at x and there was this interesting, strange ‘presence’ there, and …”
“I found an abandoned house off-trail from where I
usually walk, and …”
“I was looking out my window, and the mist and
streetlight made me feel so strange, that …”
All
such experiences evoke, for me, what can be called ‘Faery consciousness;’
– a ‘state’ in which I am open(ed) to Mystery; to the mysterious—that which is
‘beyond knowing,’ whether or not we will ever come to understand it. It
is, in naturalistic terms, a neurological, psychological and bio-physical
state; though it may have preternatural ‘elements’ as well—grounded in the
organic chemistry that makes us what we are as evolved physical and evolving
spiritual beings with a deep history in the planetary biosphere. It is a
psychological and emotional ‘mood.’ It is a spiritual state of communion
with otherness. Faery consciousness is
that state in which I am imaginatively prone to experiencing the ordinary world
as ‘haunted’ by a presence that I best en-word in the kinds of themes discussed
above; fantasying my way toward deep awareness of self and others,
reconciliation with the Earth & Cosmos, and the discovery of new touchstones of authenticity
in my mortal being-in-becoming. Such consciousness gives rise to a mythic
way of speaking about our Fairy experiences that is characterized by Wonder and
Awe.
When
I am reading or writing a story or poem, and the Fairies make a sudden
appearance, I feel lifted out of the ordinary rounds of the day and invited to
move toward_ then into_ something extra-ordinary! Their appearance
is a potential moment of wakening to the Wonder and Awe that it is always
possible for us as human animals to experience.
Wonder is that grounding state of openness
to the what-is; [13] often awakening us – waking us up
in the midst of the everyday – in the presence of something beautiful, curious, breath-taking; simply beyond our current comprehension. That experience of
being ‘stopped in our tracks;’ stunned by a beautiful sunset or by the
intricacies of a wildflower, a sea star, or the thoughts given rise to by
something we have just read or something a friend, lover or mentor has just
said, are among the many various impetuses to the state of Wonder. Awe
is a complementary state; more associated with experiences in which there is
some threat to our mortal existence. As Wonder is to the Beautiful, so
Awe is to the Sublime. When caught out in a thunder & lightning
storm, for instance – as I have oft been – hiking some woodland trail, one’s
consciousness can be transfigured by Awe! It is a sublime – not simply
beautiful – experience. While there is a certain beauty in the storm,
there is also real danger. It therefore awakens us to the sublime
dimension in our reality. To experience the Fairies
via our creative Fantasy and dreaming oft inspires me to- and beyond- the
thresholds of both Wonder and Awe.
I
have mentioned here only a few of the many interesting and engaging Fantasy themes
and ideas – poetic and mystical – associated with the Fairyfolk, some others being
stories of “Faery Forts,” “Faery Doctors,” “Faery Paths,” “Faery Islands” and
much, much more. Overall, the folklore of the Fairies constitutes a deep
story-world, accessed via fantasy – in which we may participate on a variety of
levels; existential, literary, spiritual and mystical. While the Faeryfolk
have been ‘believed in’ for centuries as ‘real, existing’ beings, I have come
to relate to them as ‘real imaginary’ beings. They exist, inhabiting my
imagination and coming to the fore when I am telling stories about ‘liminal;’
i.e., ‘border' – experiences.
In
almost fifty years I have found no evidence of their existence outside my
imagination, beyond the journeying in fantasy that allows me to participate in their
liminal reality. Tales of the Fairyfolk are of that fictional mode in which fantasy
is at work in our consciousness; transforming us – and as such evoke in me a
powerful sense of what lies beyond our comprehension, but which is still
weirdly illuminating of our lives in-world. The Faery World is a
Fantasy World, stories about it contributing in many cases to the hope for a
better life in this-world wherein suffering and hatred have been diminished –
if not transcended, having been eliminated – and where abundance and wellness
prevail for all who live there. As such, it is no wonder that the Faery World is so often conflated with
the idea of ‘Paradise.’ Whether the Fairyfolk ‘actually exist’ – outside the Creative
Imagination – I leave to others to debate.
Faery
Stories and Poems—
Here are a few of the more recent stories
and poems at this blog that have Faery themes:
“Patrick and the Faery” (17 March 2018) – in this poem,
Saint Patrick and the Faeryfolk are dancing and celebrating the Vernal Equinox together;
something they probably would not have done when Patrick was alive. The
idea here is that in the Otherworld we get over our provincialism and
narrow-minded conceptions of what it is to be human, holy, etc. – and can
embrace those we might have demonized, despised or mistrusted in this
life. Would that we could more often attain to this level of wisdom in this
life!
“Old Nicholas at Ross Falls” (6 December 2018) – here
Saint Nicholas appears as one of the Faeryfolk as he and his Americanized
complement ‘Santa Claus’ often did in the 19th century. The
poem is a visionary fairy fantasy at “Ross Falls” – at the opening of the Winter
Solstice Season.
“A Winter Wakening” (20 December 2018) – this blog,
which provides an intro to the story of “Nicholas and the Elves” that I have
been developing and writing about for 30 years, presents the story of Runa
Luna, the Mistress of Tara Lough, who comes to the mythic ‘top of the world’ –
“Tara Lough” being the home of Nicholas and the Elves in the tale – as the
parallel in my stories to the ‘Mrs. Claus’ character in our modern secular
‘holiday’ stories. Runa Luna is a Faery Mistress, and her advent at Tara
Lough have been significant to my ongoing story-building around Nicholas and the
Faeryfolk; being fellow collaborators in the Dream of the Winter Solstice
and the "Thirteen Nights and Dayes of Yule."
“Gone Faerying at Ross Falls” (23 June 2019) –
this poem is the third of four set at “Ross Falls” to have a Faery theme.
This is another dreamed vision-quest poem, ending with an invitation to sing
along with the Faeryfolk: “twindle-too-le-ley-hey-nune.”
“To Faery Gone (1 September 2020) – a poem about
slipping away into Faërie.
“A Faery Wood Carol” (27 November 2021) – A poem
treating the association of the Faeryfolk with the Yule—Winter Solstice—Christmas
Season.
A Brief Bibliography of Sources
Here are a few of the many sources that have informed my Faery
poetics over the years. The first list are
the best of the texts I was aware of in the 1970’s to 1980’s. The second list includes the best of the texts I’ve
read since this blog was first published in 2019.
I.
Evans‑Wentz, Walter Y. The Fairy Faith
in Celtic Countries (Atlantic Highlands, NJ: Humanities Press, 1978)
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