Cover art and all art by Leonora Carrington
Recently, I was documenting a strange experience told to me by a local man who couldn’t quite explain something which had happened to him when he was walking home one evening. One of the problems for him was that he couldn’t identify what he had seen. We went through some of the fairy-types which have been documented around this area but none of them seemed to match his sighting. In the end he was resigned to giving a description that would be more recognisable within the folkloric context but I told him to hold off on doing that for now.
I’ll save the full details for a future post but the fact that this incident could have been inaccurately reported in order to comply with stereotypes really made me think. How often does this happen, and are we instinctively using simple and known descriptions just to make cataloguing easier? One of the frustrating factors, for me, at least, when writing about these subjects, is how influential writers can be when it comes to maintaining tropes which no longer apply to Irish fairy-lore and related, similar topics.
Another issue here is that many of these writers don’t actually want Irish culture to have changed: there is a disadvantage for them if they acknowledge that we have a living tradition which reflects contemporary Ireland and a relationship-connection with ongoing experiences. Also, the concept that consciousness itself might not be bound by the trappings of outdated religious systems means that they are disconnected from what is happening in the here and now. In fact, anomalous experiences similar to the one described at the start of this post are often pushed aside by some writers who can’t find matching accounts in the old folklore records.
At the risk of sliding into gate-keeping here, let me clarify that what I’m referring to is when we are not recognising the bias of previous writers, and continuing to carry it on as if it is untouchable canon. Take Wentz, for example, and his work The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries. Although a valuable resource, it should be noted that Wentz himself was a theosophist and a well-to-do non-Irish person whose own views certainly colour the reporting and accounts in his book.
Other frustrating examples are works where a non-Irish writer visits Ireland for a couple of weeks and, in their own words, receive ‘transmissions’ of the history of Irish fairies from the fairies themselves. Who knows? Maybe they do, but, again, the writing in these cases is often influenced by outdated and patronising tropes which many of us here are trying our best to forget!
When we consider what appears to be particular types of beings residing in specific, geographic locations we need to be careful about what we are consolidating.
Making sure that native traditions and knowledge are referenced is good, but we need to also take into account how a culture has changed, grown, and evolved. Language itself provides the scaffolding upon which we can approach the numinous but it, too, can often be limited in how far it takes us. This is also true when we then reflect upon how our older descriptions may have come from a smaller pool of references which would have been recognisable and understood.
Demonology and the view of fairies from an Irish context was particularly influenced by Christianity after the 5th century. When monks brought their view of angels to Ireland, one of the most prominent sources they referenced was the philosopher, John Scotus Eriugena, who classified the division of supernatural and angelic beings which emanated from the primordial source. Eriugena drew the inspiration for his angelic hierarchy from Plato, and earlier traditions which saw angelic supernatural beings as complicated messenger figures who carried instructions from the spirit world.
When we look at many contemporary Irish fairy encounters we can find certain archetypes which recur on a regular basis even if they are sometimes seen through different lenses. The white lady, for example, is one which is most likely to be associated with Marion apparitions today as opposed to the older forest and cave spirits. And even with this in mind, are we still reflexively trying to fit sightings into categories and recognisable avatars so as to find ontological purchase?
Is there damage being done when those who are not living as part of a culture, and are not part of a physical relationship with a land, continually reinforce a view which has become much more nuanced and complex? Or, is it the case that these templates are, and always will be, the source from which these forms emerge? When we are confronted with something which does not resemble or fit within an older paradigm do we discard it as not being authentic, or is it our previous certainty which should be left behind?