Friday, May 29, 2009

THE CATTLE RAID OF COOLEY

The central tale of the Ulster Cycle is the Cattle Raid of Cooley (Táin Bó Cúailnge), which tells of the heroic single-handed defense of Ulster by the young Cú Chulainn. The men of Ireland, led by Ailill and Medb, attack Ulster in order to obtain the Brown Bull of Cúailnge (Cooley peninsula, Co. Louth). Cú Chulainn fends them off by engaging them in single combat, tragically slaying his beloved foster-brother Fer Diad in the process. The Bull is carried off and dies fighting against the White-Horned Bull (Finnbennach) of Connacht. A number of other tales, called foretales (remscéla), purport to explain the events that lead up to the Cattle Raid, although the connection between the foretales and the Cattle Raid is often tenuous. The reason for the inability of the Ulaid to defend themselves is given in the tale Ces Ulad “the debility of the Ulaid.” The otherworld woman Macha is forced to race against the king’s horses while heavily pregnant. She gives birth to twins on winning the race, and as she lies dying she curses the Ulstermen so that they will suffer the pangs of childbirth at times of greatest danger. The origin of the two bulls is explained in De Chophur in dá Muccida (“Of the generation of the two swineherds”). The swineherds of the title transform themselves into various animals to demonstrate their magical powers. When they take on the form of worms, they are swallowed by two cows that subsequently give birth to the two bulls. Another important prefatory tale is “The Exile of the Sons of Uisnech” (Longas macc nUisnig), which explains how various Ulster warriors, most notably Fergus mac Róich, went into exile in Connacht and so accompany Ailill and Medb on the Cattle Raid.

The earliest surviving version of the tale was compiled in the eleventh century from ninth-century material, and the earliest copy is preserved in Lebor na hUidre. This version has been heavily criticized for the lack of unity that results from the presence of different linguistic strata, doublets, variants, inconsistencies, and interpolations. However, the aim of the redactor was scholarly rather literary, and it has been suggested that he deliberately juxtaposed contradictory versions in an attempt to establish the historical facts. In the twelfth century, the tale was revised to produce a more consistent narrative, and this version is found in the Book of Leinster. The story was clearly known long before this, as it is referred to in three seventh-century poems: one attributed to the Morrígain, which is preserved in the Cattle Raid, Verba Scáthaige (“Scáthach’s words”), and a poem by Luccreth moccu Chérai. A later tradition attributes the “finding” of the story to the son of the seventh-century poet, Senchán Torpéist, who supposedly obtained it directly from Fergus mac Róich.

THE DEBILITY OF THE ULSTERMEN


Macha, daughter of Sainrith mac Imbaith, was the wife of Cruinniuc, an Ulster farmer. After Cruinniuc's first wife died, she appeared at his house and, without speaking, began acting as his wife. As long as they were together Cruinniuc's wealth increased. When he went to a festival organised by the king of Ulster, she warned him that she would only stay with him so long as he did not mention her to anyone, and he promised to say nothing. However, during a chariot race, he boasted that his wife could run faster than the king's horses. The king heard, and demanded she be brought to put her husband's boast to the test. Despite being heavily pregnant, she raced the horses and beat them, giving birth to twins on the finish line. Thereafter the capital of Ulster was called Emain Macha, or "Macha's twins". She cursed the men of Ulster to suffer her labour pains in the hour of their greatest need, which is why none of the Ulstermen but the semi-divine hero Cúchulainn were able to fight in the Táin Bó Cuailnge (Cattle Raid of Cooley). This Macha is particularly associated with horses—it is perhaps significant that twin colts were born on the same day as Cúchulainn, and that one of his chariot-horses was called Liath Macha or "Macha's Grey"—and she is often compared with the Welsh mythological figure Rhiannon.


LINK


LINK


PRIMAL HARMONY


There are still a few places in the world where one can sense what Earth was like before the advent of humans. In the aisles of a tropical rainforest, such as the one that flourishes by the Rio Napo in Peru, there are so many species of trees that often one has to walk some distance before finding the same one twice, and the variety of iridescent butterflies, mantises and other insects is incredible. In a cave under the coastal cliffs of Oregon, open to the breakers of the seemingly changeless ocean, the great sea lions bark clouds of steam above pools where mussels and anemones cling amid a constantly moving throng of crustaceans. At evening in springtime around a desert water hole in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, Arizona, bright flowers spice the air as bighorn sheep lower their heads and bats dive to the surface, drinking on the wing. Earth before mankind was a place of abundant biodiversity and of dynamic balance among species and elements.

An environmental history has to begin with the environment. There is a history of the environment before the human species evolved into its present form. Indeed, the appearance of Homo sapiens came only recently in the long story of the Earth’s geology and biology, a story to which many scientists apply the term “environmental history” in a broader sense.

What is the natural state of Earth? This is a question that must be answered before it is possible to understand how the human species relates to, and changes, the natural world. Some early ecologists argued that selected areas ought to be preserved from virtually all human disturbance to show how natural living systems operate when compared with areas that have suffered from various kinds of interference. While it is even more important today to preserve habitats for animal and plant species, it is also increasingly apparent that no place on Earth is really unaffected by human activity; none has escaped such widespread effects as air pollution, intensification in the acidity of precipitation, radioactive fallout, and the penetration of ultraviolet radiation due to the depletion of the ozone layer in the high atmosphere. This means that historians must look to evidence from the deep past to find out how nature operated without humankind, and use that as a baseline or control against which to judge the changes brought about since the beginning of human history.

Contemplating the immense age that Earth had reached before humans appeared may provide perspective. The planet condensed into its nearly spherical shape, seas and continents formed, the phyla of the animal and vegetable kingdoms evolved, and living species evolved ways of interacting with the physical matrix and with each other over hundreds of millions of years. The result was an ecological balance that sustained the conditions for life. Natural laws may, according to the new views of cosmological physics, change as the universe unfolds, but they do not apparently make exceptions for individuals or species. Humans, whose written history has spanned only the last few thousand years, must live within the conditions of the physical and biological universe and take careful account of the balance that is the natural state of Earth.

Ecological balance is dynamic, not static. It operates through change. It is not rest, but harmony in movement. It is not the stable condition of block resting on block in a pyramid, nor the unstable equilibrium of scales where a weight added on one side will bring one arm down and the other up, but the poise of an eagle flying, adjusting her wings to carry her body evenly through shifting currents of air. A living creature allows for changes that come from inner states and outer forces, adapting to sustain its life.

The idea that the Earth is a living organism is very ancient. Such was the intuitive understanding of the earliest people whose thought can be fathomed, the tribal hunters and farmers. They regarded Earth as a mother, and worshipped her as a goddess. Plato and other Greek philosophers maintained that the cosmos is alive, as we, who are among its constituent parts, are alive. In the twentieth century, the atmospheric chemist James Lovelock enunciated a theory that all life on Earth acts together like a great living organism to influence temperature, atmospheric composition, and other physical factors so as to maintain optimum conditions for itself. As the name for this organism, Lovelock selected “Gaia,” the Greek name for the goddess Earth. This idea, called the Gaia hypothesis, is a seminal concept, but should be used critically and carefully. In what sense is Earth alive?

When we look at Earth as an entire planet, it does seem to be alive. Time-lapse films taken from artificial satellites show the great cycles of weather systems streaming like the currents of cytoplasm in a cell. The seas also circulate. Geologists have detected a much slower recycling called plate tectonics, in which the renewal of the sea beds, welling up from under the crust and being swallowed millions of years later by subduction back to underworld places of melting heat, moves the continental masses, splitting and joining, in ever-changing patterns. These look like living processes, and although the seas are, so far as we know, a unique feature of Earth, roughly similar atmospheric patterns appear on Venus and Jupiter, while some of the moons of the outer planets show evidence of plate tectonics, and these bodies are almost certainly not alive in the same sense as Gaia.

It can be maintained with good reason that the entire planet is alive, that just as a body includes seemingly nonliving parts like bones and blood serum, so a living planet includes air, sea, and rocks. Ecological science shows us how animals and plants interact with each other and their environments, forming larger units called ecosystems. Through reproduction, the food chain, and the cycles of elements and energy, in an immensely complex set of relationships, species increase and decrease in number, but the ecosystem as a whole continues. In this sense, ecosystems are organisms, and Gaia, or the biosphere of Earth, is the largest ecosystem. This does not mean, however, that Gaia is an organism in just the same way that the human body is an organism. To explain this, one can look at the relationship between a single cell and the body. Both are alive, but the body is not just a large cell. The body is an immense community of living cells, related to one another in myriads of ways. The whole is greater than the sum of parts. Similarly, Gaia is a community that includes billions of living bodies, but the structure of that living community is much more complex than that of the body, as the structure of the body is more complex than that of the cell. The body is a somatic organism, but Gaia is an ecological organism. Thus defined, Gaia is much more than a metaphor. The physiological processes of Gaia are the interrelationships defined and studied by ecology.

It is possible to examine the natural state of Earth in realistic ecological terms. Though it was undeniably less polluted and more profuse in living things than today, Earth before humans was not a boring Eden. There were sudden and immense changes: volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes, forest fires, floods and droughts. The wounds left by these soon healed, as life, often finding the devastated areas enriched by mineral and organic deposits, reclaimed them in the stages of natural succession. Great changes were wrought by the working of the ecological processes themselves. The populations of some species built up cyclically to insupportable numbers, depleting their food supplies, and then suddenly declined. Some species became extinct while others evolved. There were those that, like beavers and termites, greatly altered their environments over large areas. But changes prepared the way for new forms of life. Life was sustainable and, above all, abundant. The air thronged with billions of birds, compared to which the present avian population is a sad remnant. The plains themselves must have seemed to move with herds of herbivores, followed by their predators. Schools of fish silvered the sea, while the great whales rejoiced in numbers unseen in more modern times. Even in the late twentieth century, one could still gain an idea of what the primal state of Earth was like by visiting the savannas of East Africa or bird colonies on isolated islands. Although these regions are still impressive, they have suffered diminution, and some degree of imagination is necessary to appreciate the abundance and diversity of life as it existed before humans evolved.

LINK


INTO THE HAUNTED FOREST



The Travelers Stop Inn stands just off the main trade route on the fringe of the Arthfell Forest. While it does not lie within any particular community, it often becomes a small settlement in its own right when large caravans stop by and attract locals from the surrounding area to view the available wares. As such an important trade site, it falls within the jurisdiction of the nearby Shire of Elberwick and is policed by that district’s sheriff to ensure the peace is maintained and taxes are collected. Despite the Travelers Stop Inn’s long tenure in the area, locals tell of an even older inn deeper in the Arthfell Forest that once served a now-abandoned trade route from the north. Nothing has been heard of that inn or its occupants for several years.

The Forest King Narven ruled over the Arthfell more than two centuries ago. Devoted to a druidic faith, this arboreal kingdom left few traces upon the land when it collapsed in a bloody coup led by the peoples of the southern moors, who sought to embrace the civilization of the surrounding lands. The only survivor of the forest king’s family fled to the depths of the primeval forest after Narven was slain on the field of battle. Generations later, the last descendant of the forest king’s line, a druid named Willowroot, sought out the ancient battlefield where his ancestor fell. He hoped to recover five unique items that once belonged to Narven—the regalia carried into battle by the last forest king, crafted by his druid advisors and supposedly imbued with the elements of nature. These legendary elemental regalia of the king were known collectively as the Panoply of Narven. The panoply consisted of the breastplate of the sacred fire, the wand of earth’s ire, the codex of the firmament, the vial of pure water, and the spirit-staff of Narven. Five years ago, Willowroot succeeded in his quest and unearthed the panoply and chose to re-consecrate it back to the elements from which the items were formed, marking their locations on the monument he raised in remembrance of his ancestor.

After placing the other four items in appropriate shrines, Willowroot carried the spirit-staff to a small inn standing at the center of the Arthfell. The inn, called Spirit of the Wood, was originally founded by a half-satyr as a way to control the encroachment of civilization into the domain of the fey in the wake of the forest kingdom’s collapse, while maintaining friendly relations with the races who sought to pass through the wood. Unfortunately, when Willowroot arrived at the inn he found a band of goblin brigands attacking it. Willowroot called forth the powers of nature to defeat the attackers, summoning a wooden protector, but even its mighty power was insufficient to the task, and the goblins slaughtered the druid and his fey allies. Their sacrifice was not entirely in vain, however, and they managed to destroy all of the goblin raiders save one. This last goblin fled from the inn, terrified of the power of nature unleashed. For years he maintained a low profile and honed his latent magical ability. Along the way, he joined up with a group of mercenaries that he slowly manipulated into trusting him. Now, he is finally ready to return to the lost inn and reclaim the loot he was forced to leave behind.

Monday, May 25, 2009

LOUGH GUR


Irish mythological site.

This small LAKE in Co. Limerick, inhabited for almost 6,000 years, is surrounded by low hills, each of them connected with a goddess or god. Site of the largest extant STONE CIRCLE in Ireland, the Grange, the lake is believed to be an entrance to the OTHERWORLD, a belief common to Celtic lands where water was seen as the dividing line between this world and that of the FAIRIES.

The many legends connected with the lake emphasize a cycle of time, usually seven years. Each time that cycle passes, distinctive events occur. The lake empties of water, and passersby see a tree growing from its bottom, covered with a GREEN cloth; beneath it, a woman named TOICE BHREAN sits KNITTING. The goddess or fairy queen Áine is similarly seen at Lough Gur each time the seven-year cycle ends, as is her enchanted son GERÓID IARLA, born to her after her affair with Maurice, earl of Desmond, who saw her swimming in the form of a SWAN and stole her cloak in order to capture her. As with other such marriages, the groom was put under a taboo by the bride, in this case to show no surprise, no matter what their son might do. Maurice forgot himself when, at a banquet, the now-grown Geróid shrank himself into a tiny being and leaped into a bottle, then out again, resuming his regular size. The moment Maurice called out in amazement, Geróid disappeared into Lough Gur, appearing on its surface as a GOOSE. Every seven years, he emerges from his fairy residence on the island named for him, Garrod Island, and takes on human form as he leaves the lake. He rides a white horse and leads the WILD HUNT across the land.

Other legends tell of a FAIRY HOUSEKEEPER who appears on the chair-shaped ancient monument called the Suidheachan or “housekeeper’s seat” near the lake. The housekeeper once fell asleep when the dwarf harper, Áine’s brother FER Í, stole her COMB (a female anatomical symbol, suggesting the theft might have been a rape), whereupon the housekeeper cursed the CATTLE of the region as well as the dwarf. Fer Í returned the comb, but to no avail, for the CURSE held and he died. The housekeeper, or another fairy woman, is believed to “steal”—drown—a human in the lake waters once every seven years. The lands around the lake are believed to be the territory of the fairy race, who frequently kidnap children from its shores.

Sources: Carbery, Mary. The Farm by Lough Gur: The Story of Mary Fogarty. London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1937; Croker, T. Crofton. Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland. London: William Tegg, 1862, pp. 167 ff; Dames, Michael. Mythic Ireland. London: Thames and Hudson, 1992, pp. 73 ff; Evans- Wentz, W. Y. The Fairy-Faith in Celtic Countries. Gerrards Cross: Colin Smythe Humanities Press, 1911, pp. 78–79, 81 ff.