Darrell J. Pursiful

Bendith y Mamau: Ugly Welsh Faeries

George Cruikshank, Herne the Hunter, 1840s

George Cruikshank, Herne the Hunter, 1840s

In Glamorganshire and Carmarthenshire, Wales, bendith y mamau (“mothers’ blessing”; roughly pronounced ben-dith uh mah-may) is a generic term for all faeries. The other Welsh term for faeries is tylwyth teg (“fair family” or “fair folk”).  Some see these two terms as synonymous.

As in many faery legends, it was thought best to refer to the bendith y mamau with a flattering euphemism. In fact, there little that is “motherly” or “blessed” about these creatures. More often than not, they are, in fact, malicious and destructive in their dealings with mortals.

According to some accounts, these creatures are a grotesque cross-breed of goblin and faery. They possess the glamour or illusion-magic of faeries but the stunted and ugly appearance of goblins. Some say they have an affinity with either brownies or the pisgies (pixies) of the West Country.

The bendith y mamau are known to kidnap mortal children and replace them with their own hideous offspring, called crimbils. Stories suggest, however, that these mortal children might be returned many years later with only the faintest memory of their time among the Fair Folk. Bendith y mamau can be envious creatures, particularly of another’s beauty. They generally treat their captives well, however.

These faeries are also associated with Welsh underworld hounds. These beasts, usually called cwn annwn (“hounds of the underworld”) are sometimes also known as cwn bendith y mamau or simply cwn mamau. The appearance of these spectral dogs is thought to be an omen of death. They are also associated with the Wild Hunt.

Despite these unseemly characteristics, these faeries are also often skilled musicians and singers. Their music is capable of producing a trance-like reverie that erases a person’s memory, leaving them with only a faint recollection of the sweet music itself.

The Changing Face(s) of Fantasy

Adam Dalton describes the continuing relevance of the fantasy genre in this insightful article over at Fantasy Faction. He writes,

Things move on. Things evolve. It’s healthy that the fantasy genre does so too – it keeps it fresh, vibrant, progressive and alive. It keeps is strongly ‘relevant’ to new readers. There are some genres that are far less progressive (in literary terms), and that are beginning to fail. A clear example is the genre of horror. Book sales have all but died off entirely (although in TV and film horror still does well). Many Waterstones stores have entirely done away with their horror sections (hiding them in their Scifi/Fantasy sections or relabeling them as Dark Fantasy sections). Unless you’re Stephen King or James Herbert (RIP), you simply aren’t going to sell many books if your book is labelled ‘horror’. Horror is literally dead. Ironically dead. Dead. Justin Cronin’s The Passage was first launched as a horror, and it hardly sold. It was relabelled scifi and relaunched. Again no sales. Then it was launched as a literary fiction and it became a best-seller.

Because scifi in terms of book sales is also in massive trouble. Brian Aldiss…puts is down to the fact that we now ‘live in a scifi world’ and that we therefore no longer need to read scifi so much. ‘Every week there’s some new device or invention that comes out and we don’t know how it works! Strange and confusing technology is all around us.’ Mr Aldiss has put his finger on it for me – current readers just don’t see scifi literature as being as ‘relevant’ to them as past readerships did.

Yet fantasy survives and thrives! Where it was the poor cousin to scifi in the 1970s, it now utterly dwarfs (interesting verb!) scifi. How does fantasy do it? What’s the secret? Well, it’s the magic of fantasy, isn’t it? Magic is at the heart of that genre. It tricks, distracts, bewitches and bespells, where other genres merely appal or confuse.  And it’s learnt to be relevant, to reflect the shifting dreams and fantasies of its readership, to reflect the current state of society. ‘The current state?’ you might frown. ‘But fantasy isn’t real. It’s precisely the opposite of that.’ Precisely. Look, you can’t get a job as a philosopher these days, so you have to become a reader or writer of fantasy. Fantasy is the fairground mirror to the real, the extension and twisted exploration of the real, the different way of seeing that enables real change.

I feel as if I owe an apology to the professors of philosophy I know for that line about not being able to get a job as a philosopher these days. But I didn’t say it, so you’re on your own.

More Page Views from Finland than the US Today?

What’s up with that? Do I need to put some haltias or tonttus in my next novel?

Tervetuloa.

And Kiitos.

Sunday Inspiration: Taking Chances

Some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all—in which case, you fail by default.
—J. K. Rowling

Ronald Hutton’s Typology of Faeries

In the video I mentioned in this post, Prof. Hutton provided a concise classification system for the faeries of northern Europe. It is but one part of a fascinating and expertly presented lecture, and I’m summarizing it here because it fits nicely (though not perfectly) with the way I developed the Fair Folk one meets in Children of Pride.  Hutton speaks of three basic categories of faeries in the British Isles:

1. Faeries proper, which Hutton describes as “the neighbors from hell.” These are the frightening and often malicious faeries one encounters in the oldest strands of faerie lore: the daoine sídhe and their cohorts. They live underground in a society that mirrors that of human beings, with courts, royalty (usually queens), banqueting, dancing, and the like.

2. Household helpers, including all manner of brownies, hobs, fenodyrees, and the like. These creatures are more mischievous than malicious, and they can sometimes be persuaded to help with the domestic and agricultural chores. But be careful, because they are easily offended and may just leave if one does something of which they don’t approve.

3. Faerie tricksters such as Robin Goodfellow. These are practical jokers, generally harmless or amusing rather than hostile. They are a rather late invention according to Hutton, largely under the influence of Shakespeare’s Puck. He is most assuredly not a pooka, which would better be understood as a dreaded “night being.” He further compares Robin Goodfellow to Native American trickster archetypes like Coyote as a trickster and buffoon, but also sometimes a powerful cosmic force. (Hutton does not use the specific terminology of “faery trickster,” but I think this is a fair description.)

He also notes a fourth category:

4. Nature spirits such as the pans and nymphs of Greek mythology. Properly speaking, Hutton says there are relatively few of these in the folklore of the British Isles. He further insists that these creatures are not, properly speaking, faeries at all since they fit into the natural realm in a way that traditional Anglo-Celtic faeries do not. Unlike faeries proper, beings of this type seem to be nearly universal in human cultures. Although Hutton insists such creatures are not faeries, he does say that the trolls or faeries of Iceland (and the related trows of the Orkney and Shetland Islands) are something of a hybrid between this category and the first. They are “land wights” who exercise guardianship over the land, but they are also said to live in underground communities and are often less than hospitable to human beings.

If you’re interested in the faery lore of the British Isles, you really owe it to yourself to listen to Prof. Hutton’s lecture.

Faery Beliefs on the Isle of Man

The Celtic Myth Podshow has posted a video of Prof. Ronald Hutton discussing Manx faery traditions.

Watch and listen to this fantastic lecture given by the wonderful Prof. Ronald Hutton about the Fairy Folklore on the Isle of Man. As always, not only is the Prof. exceedingly entertaining to listen to, but his gives us some superb information about the Fae history of the Island as well its traditional folklore. He finally regales us with a personal tale to have you in stitches! Superb stuff!

In this lecture Professor Ronald Hutton looks at how the Isle of Man is famous as an island full of fairy traditions: in some ways it may be regarded as having the greatest concentration of them in the British Isles. It therefore seems a good place in which to address the question of what traditional fairy beliefs – those shared by ordinary people until recent times – actually were.

You might be interested to know that the title of Children of Pride comes from Manx cloan ny moyrn, which can be translated something like “children of pride” or “children of ambition.”

D&D’s New Edition

I haven’t played Dungeons & Dragons since college, but it still has a special place in my heart. Here is a rundown of how the 5th edition, shortly to be released, stacks up against the 4th edition. To judge by this review, it sounds like a return to the kind of storytelling-based gameplay that first hooked me way back in 5th or 6th grade.

Sunday Inspiration: Stories

The stories we love best do live in us forever.
—J. K. Rowling

Si’lats: Middle Eastern Shapeshifters

Ahsan-ol-Kobar, Ali and the Jinn (cropped), 1568

Ahsan-ol-Kobar, Ali and the Jinn (cropped), 1568

Si’lat, si’lah, or sila (plural sa’alin) literally means “she-jinn” or “she-ghul.” They are one of many types of jinn to inhabit the Middle Eastern world. In fact, they are often considered the smartest of jinn. They are talented shapeshifters who can easily pass as ordinary humans.

Sources vary on the morality of si’lats. Some assert they are the wickedest type of ghul; others that they are merely capricious tricksters who might either help or cause trouble for mortals.

Si’lats often dwell in woodlands, where they might capture travelers and force them to dance for their amusement.

Pre-Islamic traditions describe this jinn as sudden in appearance and disappearance, with a cat-like face, canine teeth, and a forked tongue.

Optics and Elvish Eyesight

Of course, this video doesn’t take account of magical elvish eyes! Still, I’m more and more convinced that a basic grasp of science and mathematics is a valuable tool for fiction writing in any genre.

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