Tag Archives: Folk Tale

A face from the past… and a book extract…

Posted on October 21, 2020 by

One of the everyday wonders of my childhood was a visit to my grandparents’ home. The house itself was full of Art Deco details. The walls and shelves were adorned with curious things, brought back from far-flung places… wooden boxes … Continue reading →

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Clews…

Posted on October 19, 2020 by

* …Kierkegaard knows only too well what is at stake here. How the mask can simultaneously both hide and reveal. Especially for those who know how to look… He chooses his psuedonyms very carefully, almost, too perfectly! Johannes-de-Silentio. ‘Silent John’. … Continue reading →

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The Shreiking Womb: Neesh…

Posted on October 4, 2020 by

* …So, Deirdru was kept in a place apart until she was ready for Connavor’s bed. * No one was allowed into her enclosure save her foster-mother, her foster-father, and her nurse maid, Leborcham, the satirist. * One winter’s day … Continue reading →

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The Shreiking Womb…

Posted on October 2, 2020 by

* The Ulstermen were drinking in the house of Connavor’s Bard, Fedlimed mac Dall. Fedlimed’s wedd-woman, who happened to be full with child, was also in attendance. She passed round meat and drink and, when the house reached drunken uproar, … Continue reading →

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Bull-Coyote…

Posted on September 30, 2020 by

* Coyote was going along… As usual he was ravenously hungry. He passed by Buffalo-Bull and noticed his size. ‘No lack of sustenance there,’ he reasoned. “Couldn’t you make me into a Bull?” asked Coyote. Buffalo-Bull ignored him. “If I … Continue reading →

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Fate of the Lir-Brood: Glora…

Posted on September 22, 2020 by

* No high-born heroes No hounds in chase No shields arrayed… No walls. * No silvered soft goblets No light cavalcades No youthful assemblies No beetle-browed maids… To brighten our desolate halls. * …When their three hundred years were ended … Continue reading →

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Fate of the Lir-Brood: Raven…

Posted on September 21, 2020 by

* Hard the day when first I brought Dark Eva in my house to dwell Black the woman’s heart that wrought Such a cruel and malevolent spell. * …Lir departed Lake Devra with his company and travelled to the king’s … Continue reading →

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Fate of the Lir-Brood: Moyle…

Posted on September 21, 2020 by

* Where are my brothers? Why have I lived? This apex of affliction to know What now is left But a life of despair I am unable to bear Such heart-break of anguish and woe. * Continue reading at France … Continue reading →

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Fate of the Lir-Brood: Devra…

Posted on September 20, 2020 by

* Come, brothers three, accost the coast And welcome Lir’s resplendent host Such woeful welcome from a fateful morn Will never bring to him bright morrow Unhappy sire, doomed, forlorn Left ever to mourn in hopeless sorrow. * …Eva arrived … Continue reading →

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Fate of the Lir-Brood: Eva…

Posted on September 19, 2020 by

* Depart from me as graceful swans The waters be now your home Your palace hall is a pearly cave Its couch the crest of a crystal wave Your mantle is milk-white foam. * …The four children grew up under … Continue reading →

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