In the beginning, there was an idea.

I've loved myths and folktales as long as I can remember. They were among the first material I read as a young child, and knowing them has enriched my sense of spirituality and made me feel like a part of something greater. Being a writer, I tell stories as well, but no matter what I write about, I always feel as though these stories, these ancient tales that were passed down from generation to generation, are more perfect than anything that has come from the mind of a writer in this day and age. So, recently, I began to toy with the idea of sharing these myths with readers all over the world. Only a few days before this blog was created, my mother and I were talking and she suggested I make a blog and gather together information that would otherwise remain scattered over literature and the Internet. Why not myths? Why not make a blog that tells, picks apart, and analyzes popular (and even not-so-popular) myths, stories and folktales from around the world?

Saturday, December 31, 2011

Happy New Year!

Yes, that's right; it's that time again. Time to stay up late and get suitably hammered while you wait for the ball to drop in Times Square. Tomorrow, it will be 2012, and (according to the Mayans) we now have less than a year before the current era is scheduled to end.

Fun times, huh?

If I remember correctly, the last time I gave the Myth Fix spotlight to a particular deity, the subject was from the Roman pantheon. In the spirit of the New Year, I've selected another Roman God: Janus.

Statue of Janus in the Vatican

Unlike many Gods in the pantheon, who were in a large part borrowed from the Greeks, Janus is uniquely Roman.As a God of transition, Janus has quite a bit on his plate. He represents doorways, beginnings, endings, and, more generally, time. He is depicted with two faces, one looking into the past, the other into the future. He also lent his name to the month of January, as it is the first month in the Western year. Rites to Janus were performed by the Romans at the beginning and end of each month, the beginning and end of the military season, and, of course, the New Year. New Year traditions included the giving of gifts and the offering of prayers to Janus.


Sources:
Essential Visual History of World Mythology. Washington, D.C.: National Geographic ;, 2008. Print.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

The Bean Nighe

Don't ask me to pronounce it. I'm horrible with Gaelic.

The Bean Nighe, also known as the "Washer of the Ford" (not the car), is a Scottish spirit (or possibly multiple spirits), who many say was once a woman who died in childbirth. She sits by the river, washing the blood out of the clothes of soldiers who are to die. If you come across a bean nighe, chances are you won't last through the day. Imagine many a Scotsman's surprise when he went out to take a drink (or a leak) and stumbled upon such a spirit.

In the story of Cuchulainn (the Ulster Cycle), Morrigan takes the form of a bean nighe in order to inform our hero that he is to die. The story of his final battle (well, his whole life, really) is an interesting one, and I suppose I'll have to share it one of these days.

Sources:
http://www.pantheon.org/articles/b/bean_nighe.html
http://www.morrigan.net/morrigan.htm

Friday, December 2, 2011

How Very Childish.

I've been in a traditional music kind of mood for the past two weeks or so; it's all I've been listening to. I enjoy folk music. The natural rhythms and heavy reliance on vocal and instrumental talent are quite relaxing. I find it's a welcome break from all the auto-tuned techno crap ol' Chainsaw Charlie's been churning out lately (It's a W.A.S.P. reference). So, anyway, I've been listening to a ton of folk music. And then I got to thinking, "Hey, this stuff's loaded with references to local legends and superstition--just the kind of stuff this blog's supposed to be about." Then I decided, even though I'm supposed to be doing driver's ed (I'll get to that later), I should really post something. My absence isn't fair to the five people out of our world's seven billion who actually read this blog. I figured I could make this one about the stories told in a few popular (and not-so-popular) folk ballads. I'm starting with the collection of Francis J. Child, hence the title of this entry.

"Scarborough Fair," or "The Elfin Knight"
The details of the song vary from version to version, but the gist is the same: A man tells a woman that he'll marry her if she can perform several impossible tasks, such as making a cambric shirt without any seams, washing it in a dry well, and finding an acre of land between the sea and the shore. The progressive metal band Queensryche did an awesome cover of the ballad, which was where I first heard it:

http://youtu.be/lcwQlGjNqrs

"Lord Randall"
I had to write a report on this one, so I know it like the back of my own hand. Lord Randall comes home tired and desperate for a bed, only to have to suffer his mother's incessant interrogation. He answers her inquiries about his whereabouts with short, blunt sentences, stating that he'd been in the greenwood eating dinner with his true love. A little later, he reveals that he fed his leftovers to his hawks and hounds, who sickened and died. At this, his mother exclaims, "I fear you've been poisoned, Lord Randall, my son!" And he answers, "Yes, I've been poisoned; mother make my bed soon..." His mother then wants to know what he'll leave to his family when he dies. He gives his brother his lands, and his mother and sister gold. His mother asks what he'd leave to his true love, and he replies, "I leave her hell and fire". There is some speculation that it was actually a fairy in the guise of his true love who poisoned him, as punishment for trespassing in the greenwood.


"The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry"
A traditional ballad from the Orkney Islands, the song starts off with a woman singing to her young child that she doesn't know who his father is. That night (or soon after), a strange man enters her house, introducing himself as the  father of her child, and he is, in fact, a silkie, a mysterious being that takes the form of a man on land and a seal in the water. He asks the woman to marry him, and she refuses. He then gives her a nurse's fee for raising his child and takes the baby with him, but not before telling her that she'll eventually marry a gunner who will one day kill him and their child. Broadside Electric did a really cool cover:


"Geordie"
"Geordie" is Child Ballad 209, in which a woman laments the arrest and pending execution of her true love, Geordie, for one of a number of crimes, depending upon the version (poaching, theft, murder, treason, etc.). She goes to the judge to plea for a pardon, saying that she'd freely part with every single one of her children if he'd only "spare the life of Geordie." The judge tells her that he cannot pardon Geordie, and the man must hang. In some versions, however, gracious people donate money to help pay his ransom.