Saint Patrick was married - his wife's name was Sheelah and St. Sheelah's Day was celebrated on March 18th

The revelation in today's Irish Times that Saint Patrick had a wife whose name was Sheelah is tremendously exciting for a number of reasons. Shane Lehane, a folklorist from University College Cork (UCC) has discovered pre-Famine references to a widespread belief that Saint Patrick had a wife and that St. Sheelah's Day was celebrated the day after St. Patrick's Day, on March 18th.

Lehane is quoted in the Irish Times as saying "Pre-Famine, if you go back to the newspapers in Ireland they talk not just about Patrick's Day but also Sheelah's Day. I came across numerous references that Sheelah was thought to be Patrick's wife. The fact that we have Patrick and Sheelah should be no surprise. Because that duality, that union of male and female together, is one of the strongest images that we have in our mythology."

A Sheela-na-Gig, female deity with exposed/exaggerated genitalia, carved into a standing stone at Hill of Tara.

Although the devastating effects of the Great Famine on Irish culture can never be truly quantified, we have a significant example here of a folk belief that seems to have died out in Ireland with the famine. References to Sheelah's Day were found in the Freeman's Journal of 1785, 1811 and 1841, but the feast day has been "largely forgotten about in Ireland" according to Lehane.

Some time ago, I wrote about the story of the "twining branches" (Deirdre and the Children of Uisneach) and how memories of this creation myth were brought by Irish emigrants to Nova Scotia. The story of Sheelah seems to follow a similar fate. Before the Famine, which happened in the late 1840s, the celebration of St. Patrick's Day continued into March 18th for his wife's special day, St. Sheelah's Day (and of course in typical Irish fashion copious amounts of alcohol were consumed.) However, after the Famine the tradition seems to have died out here, but Irish migrants who ended up in such places as Newfoundland, Canada and Australia brought the tradition with them.

Lehane says perhaps the most enduring legacy of Sheelah is the so-called “Sheelah’s Brush.” This is the name given by Newfoundlanders and Atlantic Canadians to a winter snowstorm that falls after St Patrick’s Day.

Sometimes referred to as “Sheelah’s Broom” - or if the snowstorm is mild with only a bare covering of snow, “Sheila’s Blush” - it is still referred to respectfully by meteorologists and fisherman in that part of the world.

Undoubtedly some media commentators will pick up on the obvious relevance of Patrick's wife to the whole discourse about Catholic celibacy - and the perceived connection between that peculiar diktat of the traditional church here and the many sex and paedophile scandals that have decimated the Catholic faith here in Ireland.

A somewhat obscure and tenuous but perhaps very important connection is made by Lehane between Saint Sheelah and the "hugely interesting archaeological manifestation that also bears her name" - the Sheelah-na-Gig.

"Sheela-na-Gig is a basic medieval carving of a woman exposing her genitalia. These images are often considered to be quite grotesque. They are quite shocking when you see them first.  Now we look at them very much as examples of old women showing young women how to give birth. They are vernacular folk deities associated with pregnancy and birth." (Source)

And Lehane believes that the tradition of Sheelah could and should be revived and embraced in Ireland.

""Sheelah represented, for women in particular, a go-to person because she represented the female. The Sheela-na-Gig is a really important part of medieval folk tradition. She is an important folk deity. The figure of Sheelah was perhaps much bigger than suggested by the scant mentions we find in the old newspaper accounts. She would have been massively important. She represents a folk personification, allied to, what can be termed, the female cosmic agency, and being such, would have played a major role in people’s everyday lives. It is a pity that the day has died out. But maybe we will revive it."

A revival and reactivation of Sheelah

My own view is that the revival of the tradition of a female deity equal in status to Patrick might very well be important to the spiritual well-being of a country which has been very heavily influenced by patriarchal religious zeal for centuries, an influence that is seen by some as a contributory factor in many of Ireland's ills. The symbolic importance of Patrick (who was, ironically, a Romano-British immigrant to these shores) cannot be understated in the milieu of a nation defined for so long by its trenchant support for the male-dominated Roman church.

A statue of Saint Patrick looks out across Gabhra Valley from Hill of Tara.

Now we have the chance to reconcile the tradition of an almost-forgotten woman into the complex folk fabric of a fractured cultural history - a history that, it must be borne in mind, was vibrantly aware of the necessity for accessibility to the feminine deity in most of its past eras. The patriarchal influence of Rome did not decimate the ancient divine feminine - rather it forced upon us some sort of collective obeisance to the supremacy of the omniscient and jealous male god of the old testament, forcing the old indigenous female deities such as the Cailleach and Sheelah into the shadows.

The female wasn't altogether banished, but rather was revealed in a guise that was somewhat familiar, with reflections of the ancient goddesses of old but very much dressed in the raiment of a woman whose power was contingent upon the emanations of the Catholic patriarchy. Thus, Brigid the prehistoric goddess survived as the saint who became known to us as Muire na nGael, the Mary of the Irish, and indeed the Catholic Church had allowed Mary to become a co-redemptrix with Jesus. The presence of this ancient goddess, albeit in diluted form, in the church of Rome was probably one of the factors that had helped the church to become established in the first place.

Further to the possible revival of the tradition of Sheelah here is the possibility that incorporating her into our national celebrations could become a hugely significant act. We have here the very vivid and exciting possibility of activating or reactivating a feminine energy that is, as CG Jung might have suggested, of supreme importance for the ultimate rehabilitation of the modern human soul through the reconciliation of the masculine and feminine elements in life.

Can one yet countenance the notion of a Saint Patrick's Day AND a Saint Sheelah's Day? A national holiday for Ireland, spanning two days, recognising the male and the female, and allowing both to hold equal court in the hearts and minds of Irish people and their descendants and friends all around the world?

One of the ironies of the story about the disappearance of Sheelah from popular folk memory is that she hasn't vanished at all. The Sheelah tradition simply moved abroad with the forced migrations resulting from mass starvation. Many of those who stayed behind perished. Sheelah's story might have perished with the Famine also (even if Patrick's story only became more ubiquitous) except for the fact that her flame was kept burning abroad, in distant lands, by those who left these shores. The supreme irony is that Patrick - who was married - brought the tradition of Jesus to these shores, from a distant land, and that even though that tradition espoused celibacy for its all-male clergy,  Patrick himself had a wife.

It could only happen in Ireland.

The contemporary relevance of our most ancient myths

For a long time, I have been studying, writing about and talking about Irish mythology. During that time, I have tried to relate the importance of mythology as something beyond mere story telling. It appears to me that our myths, no matter how ancient, seem to have a relevance to us even in the present day. In previous works (including my books and blog posts), I have attempted to bring that relevance to bear upon modern life. It can be a difficult thing to do. There's always a danger that people think you're engaging in some sort of new-age mystical "woo", so I tend to be very careful about how I approach the whole area. I have a great enthusiasm for the subject matter.

The Book of the Cailleach.

Recently, on the recommendation of a Facebook friend, I purchased a copy of a book called 'The Book of the Cailleach - Stories of the Wise-Woman healer' by Gearóid Ó Crualaoich. Having seen a number of posts I had written featuring words and pictures about the Loughcrew cairns and the story of the Cailleach who is said to have created them, this follower thought that I would be interested in Ó Crualaoich's book. And they weren't mistaken. So far, I have found it absolutely gripping. It is a comprehensive analysis and discussion of the stories from Ireland's oral traditions about the 'wise woman', the 'hag', the Cailleach, or the 'Red Woman'. These stories have their roots in pre-Christian Ireland.

The book's blurb says that, "In the hands of Gearóid Ó Crualaoich these figures are subtly explored to reveal how they offered a complex understanding of the world, of human psychology and its predicaments. The thematic structure of the book brings to the fore universal themes such as death, marriage, childbirth or healing, and invites the reader to see the contemporary relevance of the stories for themselves."

But it was a review of The Book of the Cailleach - contained on its back cover - that drew my attention. It voices, in ways that I struggle to do, the relevance of these stories to the Ireland - and the world - of today:

"The unearthing of a priceless spirit from forgotten, buried, misunderstood storytelling is like discovering Knowth or Newgrange and opening the doors to those otherworlds. Gearóid Ó Crualaoich's work on the wise-woman healer, the cailleach, is of immense importance, for we need access to the secrets of healing and orientation in life known well in the past but now neglected. Without that secret knowledge we are left with mere rationalism and secularism, which are inadequate for dealing with the challenges of a complex world. This book is highly professional, comprehensive, carefully interpretive, and respectful. It opens up many avenues towards the healing of our own personal lives and our world. It is of special importance to Ireland, but it also addresses the needs of people around the world, who can now look to Ireland for the rediscovery of a special kind of spiritual knowledge connected to the natural world, to place, and to history. This book is so rich in detail and implication that it can be taken by the reader as a personal map to the otherworld and to the forgotten powers of nature and humanity now accessible to him. To women especially it offers an image of strength, wisdom, and healing power. We need this kind of excellent work, visionary as well as academic, all over the world to pull us out of the literalistic and materialistic vision that is limiting us and perhaps even killing us."

That review was by Thomas Moore, author of Care of the Soul and The Soul's Religion.

Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill also sees the relevance of the work to current times. She describes it as a "breathtaking book" and one which resonates quite personally with her:

"It returns to Irish folk material the emotional depth and imaginative meaning which it always contained in its natural context but of which it has often been stripped by the more utilitarian and commonplace interpretations long in fashion. It reminds me once again why I am charmed and enchanted by this material, and more than that, why I regularly find in it answers to the deep-seated obsessions of my own. A real gem of a book, containing an exemplary methodology showing how the Irish folk tradition can be interrogated to find answers which are vitally important to our age and times."

I've spent quite a bit of time at Loughcrew, exploring the monuments and landscape of the Cailleach.

Bringing to bear the meaning of myth has become one of the most appealing aspects of my work. But this wasn't always the case. The reason I began to study the monuments of Brú na Bóinne almost 20 years ago (in reality, I had been studying them since I was a child, when my father brought home George's Eogan's newly published book on Knowth in 1986) was more to do with a belief that astronomy had a greater role in the design and interpretation of these great monuments than was being expounded by the experts. However, having begun serious research with Richard Moore in 1999, I decided just over a year later, on the 16th of March in the year 2000, to establish a website which would discuss aspects of our researches. When it came to choosing a title for this website, I quickly (and without giving it too much thought to be honest) decided to call it Mythical Ireland. Why? I wasn't entirely sure then. Perhaps I acted out of some instinct.

Whatever the reason, over time, myth has become the most important aspect of my work. And that's because, for me, personally, the retelling of our myths has led to revelation. Ní Dhomhnaill is right. The interrogation of our folk and mythic traditions leads to answers which "are vitally important to our age and times".

The prophecy of the ard-druid from 'The Coming of Cuculain' by Standish O'Grady - read by Anthony Murphy

Standish O'Grady was the son of a protestant clergyman who ironically became part of what has become known as the 'Gaelic Revival' literary movement. Despite his belief that Ireland was better off as part of the United Kingdom, O'Grady's writings as a scholar of Gaelic mythology, Irish history and his works of fiction, inspired those who thought otherwise.

'The Coming of Cuculain' is a historical novel, based around the story of Sétanta/Cúchulainn that we might be familiar with from the manuscripts, but obviously heavily embellished as a work of fiction. Nonetheless, it is very enjoyable. It was published by The Talbot Press in 1894. It features an introduction by A.E. (George William Russell), one of the leading figures of the Gaelic Revival.

In the video, I am reading from Chapter 1, The Red Branch, where the ard-druid, Cathvah, makes a prophecy concerning the coming of the wonder child. It is dramatic and poetic, and biblical in tone. Many mythologies around the world contain narratives concerning the prophesised coming of some sort of hero or warrior or saviour. In this case, the subject of the prophecy is Sétanta, the boy who will eventually kill the hound of Culainn to become the warrior Cúchulainn, who leads the Ulster warriors against Medb's Connacht army.

"Yea, he is coming. He draweth nigh.
Verily it is he whom I behold—
The predicted one—the child of many prophecies—
Chief flower of the Branch that is over all—
The mainstay of Emain Macha—the battle-prop of the Ultonians—
The torch of the valour and chivalry of the North—
The star that is to shine for ever upon the forehead of the Gael.
It is he who slumbers upon Slieve Fuad—
The child who is like a star—
Like a star upon Slieve Fuad.
There is a light around him never kindled at the hearth of Lu,
The Grey of Macha keeps watch and ward for him,
And the whole mountain is filled with the Tuatha de Danan."

'The Coming of Cuculain' read by Anthony Murphy.

The Milky Way in Irish mythology and folklore

The Milky Way has been known by several names and phrases in Irish mythology and folklore. Principal among its names seems to have been Bealach na Bó Finne, which means the Way of the White Cow. In this respect, it seems to have been regarded as a heavenly reflection of the River Boyne. A variant of this is Bóthar na Bó Finne, the Road of the White Cow. The goddess Bóinn's name is from Bó and Find, meaning White Cow. In the Dindshenchas, we are told that the Boyne river was formed when she approached Nechtain's Well and it overflowed, washing her along the river, mutilating her, and finally carrying her out to sea where she was drowned. There, we are told, her lapdog Dabilla was turned into the Rockabill Islands. This is undoubtedly a creation myth.

The Milky Way (Bealach na Bó Finne) over the River Boyne (Abhainn Bó Finne).

There are other names and phrases for the Milky Way. These include:

Ceann Síne - Síne is "chain", and ceann is "head" or "chief", perhaps even an "end point". (An end point would be interesting with regards to the movement of the sun, moon and planets along the ecliptic, which intersects the Milky Way at two points in the sky. Perhaps one of these points was considered the place where the heavenly cycles began and ended?)

Síog na Spéire - the streak or stripe of the sky.

Earball na Lárach Báine - the tail of the white mare. In folklore, Láir Bhán is also a phrase for the moon. The Láir Bhán is considered by some to be an ancient sovereignty goddess. One old Samhain custom in Ireland involved the procession of the Láir Bhán (White Mare) from house to house. People would blow on cows' horns and the party was headed by a person dressed in a white robe or sheet who was known as the "White Mare".(1)

Mór-Chuing Argait - A name given for the Boyne in the Dinshenchas meaning "Great Silver Yoke", which might also have been a description of the Milky Way.

Smir Find Fedlimthi - the White Marrow of Fedlimid, also from the Dindshenchas poem Boand I.

Claí Mór na Réaltaí - the Great Fence/Ditch of the Stars.

Sgríob Chlann Uisnich - Track of the children of Uisneach.

This last one is contained in a beautiful folk memory, recalled in Scotland and in Nova Scotia but relating to an Irish myth (Deidre and the Sons of Uisneach) which appears to be the recounting of an ancient creation myth about the Milky Way. In this story, the Milky Way is known as Sgríob Chlann Uisnich. 

From Deirdre and the Lay of the Children of Uisne.(2)

It is not surprising to see the Milky Way described in conjunction with the swan. The constellation we know today as Cygnus may have been important to Stone Age astronomers and it appears to fly along the heavenly river.

In the Nova Scotia version of Deirdre and the Sons of Uisneach, the origin of the Milky Way galaxy is depicted as emerging from two trees as separated by a loch, as if to complete an arch between them.This episode is placed in the well-known Ulster tale if Deirdre, whose lover, Noíse, is one of the Children of Uisneach.

... the sons of Uisneach are killed in a great, unnamed battle, after which Deidire falls into the grave with the men. The bodies of the two lovers are exhumed and reburied on either side of the burial mound. Soon a tree grows from each grave and rises until the two join. This arouses a great deal of vengeful malice in an unnamed king, who orders that the trees be cut down. Soon another pair of trees grows and joins until the king has them cut down as well. This sequence of events recurs repeatedly until the king decides to have the bodies placed on either side of a loch, a distance too great for the trees to span. Between the trees a cluster of stars gathers in a light trail, Sgríob Chlann Uisnich [track of the Children of Uisneach].(3)

Sgríób Chlann Uisnich - the track of the Children of Uisneach - over the Dowth megalithc mound.

References:
(1) Paice MacLeod, Sharon (1960), Celtic Myth & Religion, p.175.
(2) Carmichael, Alexander (1914), Deirdre and the Lay of the Children of Uisne, Hodges, Figgis & Co., p.152.
(3) MacKillop, James (2006), Myths and Legends of the Celts, Penguin Books, p.292.

Video: An explanation of some of the astronomical and mythological symbolism of the summer solstice and the sun's unique position above Orion on this day

In this video, I explain some of the fascinating astronomical and mythical symbolism of today's Summer Solstice, and in particular I point out the very unique occurrence of the sun passing above Orion's hand - in the Milky Way - on this auspicious day.

Today is Summer Solstice, the maximum northerly declination of the sun, which occurs precisely at 10:34pm GMT (11.34pm local time) this evening. The sun's rising and setting positions in the northeast and northwest have reached a standstill and over the course of the next few days these positions will begin to retreat southwards. These are the longest days of the year.

If we could somehow blot out the sun, as happens during a total solar eclipse, we would see that the sun is presently located above the constellation Orion, in his outstretched arm. This is unique to our time. The sun's solstice and equinox positions are slowly drifting westwards through the zodiac due to a wobble of the earth's axis. The effect of this wobble is that the solstice/equinox points complete a circuit of the zodiac just once very 25,920 years.

In a few decades' time, the sun will have drifted out of Orion's hand on the summer solstice, moving gradually into Taurus (the bull constellation). It will not return to Orion's hand on Summer Solstice for almost 26,000 years. Eventually the autumn equinox sun will be in the hand of Orion, but not for another 6,500 years! And then in around 13,000 years, the winter solstice sun will be in the hand of Orion. I know it might be hard to believe, but by that time Orion will no longer be visible from Ireland. He will be too far south and only the stars of his upraised arm will be visible here.

Orion/Lugh/Cúchulainn/Fionn/Nuadu carries the sun across the sky.

There is some fascinating mythological symbolism involved in today's occurrence which I have explored before, especially in my book Island of the Setting Sun. There are several candidates for this constellation in Irish mythology. These include Lugh Lamhfada (Lugh of the Long Arm, or Long Throw), who may have been seen to control the movement of the sun, moon and planets along the ecliptic from his arm. Similarly, Lugh's son Cúchulainn, the chief character of the epic Táin Bó Cuailnge, is said to have fired a sliothar (ball used in an Irish game called hurling) through the mouth of a hound/cú (Leo), and was said to have fought best in ford water. Indeed the point where the sun sits on Summer Solstice is that point where the ecliptic intersects with the Milky Way galaxy, the river of the sky. This was Bealach Bó Finne (the Way of the White Cow), and its earthly equivalent was Abhainn Bó Finne (Boyne River). Fionn Mac Cumhaill was said to have thrown standing stones into the landscape from places like Hill of Tara and Slieve Gullion. I wonder if this myth/folk tale perhaps connects Orion with the solstices - it's possible that many standing stones have alignments towards the sun's solstices or the lunar standstills. If Fionn threw the stones, perhaps this is a reference to the alignment with such astronomical events which are seen to be controlled by this illustrious man in the sky. Fionn's name translates as "Bright Son of the Hazel" or "Starry Son of the Hazel".

"I am a light for every road and journey" - Lugh Lamhfada.

An equally illustrious character from the early Irish myths is Nuadu of the Silver Arm, King of the Tuatha Dé Danann, whose arm was chopped off in the first battle of Moytura. He had a new silver arm made for him by the Tuatha Dé Danann healer, Dian Cecht. Thus he was able to take part in the second battle of Moytura (Mag Tuired) in which the Dananns were victorious against the Fomorians. This myth inspired the famous scene in the Star Wars movies where Luke Skywalker (Orion is perhaps seen to walk through the sky) confronts the evil Darth Vader, who chops off his arm with a light sabre. Towards the end of the movie, we see that Luke is given a metal, robotic prosthesis, similar perhaps to Nuadu's new "silver" arm.

The full moon on summer solstice.

The symbolism of today's event is stark. A giant warrior/god/hunter/man carries the sun aloft across the sky, like an Olympic torch bearer, from dawn until dusk.

Tonight, as the sun sets, a full moon will rise in the southeast, in the other "crossing point" or "ford" of the sky where the ecliptic crosses the Milky Way. Full moons on the day of solstice are rare enough. The last one was in 1967. So today we are enjoying a special conjunction of astronomical events.

The moon will be accompanied in that region of the sky by the planet Mars, currently quite bright, and also the planet Saturn and the bright star of Scorpius, Antares.

See also an earlier post about Lugh carrying the sun on Summer Solstice.

The Cry of the Sebac and the survival of ancient wisdom

Over the past few years I've taken a great interest in the creatures of Irish myth. Among the animals that have great significance in the ancient mythology of Ireland are the bull, the cow, the pig, the swan, the salmon and the hawk. I've been greatly taken by the old story of Fintan mac Bóchra, said to have been the lone survivor of the great flood when he fled to Tul Tuinde and swam in a cave in that mountain in the form of a salmon, later transforming into an eagle, and then a hawk. A similar tale is told of Tuan mac Cairill, the sole survivor of the Partholonians, who relates the story of the Lebor Gabála (Book of Invasions) to St. Finnian of Moville. Tuan transforms into a swan, a boar, an eagle and finally a salmon. As a salmon, he is caught and eaten by the wife of Cairill, who gives birth to him again in human form so that he may recite the early history of Ireland.

Thus the personages of Fintan and Tuan come to represent the idea of the embodiment or survival of ancient wisdom. Fintan is the one to whom the people of Ireland turn for advice in The Settling of the Manor of Tara, when there is confusion as to how the lands around Tara should be divided up.

There are many characters, themes and narratives from Irish mythology that have inspired me in the writing of my latest work of fiction, a novel. This novel was completed earlier this year and was proofed and edited and is currently being considered for publication by a Dublin publishing company. The transformed druid in the guise of a bird of the air serves as a very vivid archetype for me, and one that I have borrowed for this latest work.

The novel is tentatively titled 'The Cry of the Sebac' - sebac being the Early Irish form of seabhac, a hawk. This hawk relates how he has survived since the appearance of the first humans in Ireland after the retreat of the ice, and tells of his dramatic survival of the inundation in a cave in a cairn on the top of Tul Tuinde. He has lots of advice for a young boy whom he befriends. The novel is set in modern Ireland, but the hawk is very definitely a voice from the ancient world:

“One person can be more powerful than an entire army,” said the hawk. “That’s what Manannán represents – the power of one man to repel a whole battalion of enemies. They say that Manannán controlled the waves. He had learned to love the ocean, and all its murky and impenetrable parts, and all its harsh noises and bitter storms, and all its creatures, marvellous and grotesque, even down to its lowest depths. And when he learned to love even its most hideous and abhorrent parts, he became the ocean. Manannán and the sea were one. Thus, he was able to drive back the Fomorians, terrible and despicable and powerful as they might have seemed. They had no might that could match him. He was the indefatigable and undefeatable enemy. He was everywhere, and that was terrifying for them. Become the storm, and you will change the world.”

Following the hawk's advice to the boy, the youngster, in a trance-like state, perhaps reminiscent of a shamanistic dream, has a conversation with an unknown entity:

A familiar voice called out to him, softly.
“Why have you come here?” it said.
“I have come here to live forever,” he replied, after just a moment’s thought.
“It’s not your time. Why else did you come here?”
“To hear the Great Song.”
“What power brought you here?” the voice asked.
“The power of my own mind, which has existed since before I was born.”
“What did you bring with you to this place?”
“Nothing, except my imagination, and my soul bird.”
“Your soul bird?”
“Yes, he is the Sebac Gaoth, the Hawk on the Wind, the one who has lived beyond memory. He sees my thoughts and interprets my dreams.”
“And what dream do you have?”
“To heal the world.”
“But you’re just a boy.”
“One person can be more powerful than an entire army,” he replied.
“How did you calm the storm?” the voice asked.
“I didn’t calm the storm. I AM the storm.” 

The antediluvian druid-bird is there to convince the boy that he is the 'Little Flame', a light for the world. And he encourages the boy to become the Samildánach, the many-gifted hero of light:

“So then, young flame keeper, the Samildánach who can see beyond obscure horizons . . . are you ready to look beyond all the known horizons, to a place in the unendurable darkness where the magnificent light will be made to shine again?”

Work has started on my next book

I have started on my next book. Actually, I started before Christmas, but put it to one side to allow the madness of Christmas and the excitement of solstice pass. I've no idea what it's going to be called yet, but what I can tell you is that it will be a collection of Irish myths explained in such a way as to make them relevant to the modern world and our current situation (as much as possible). I don't believe there's any point in merely continuing to tell the stories - as so many books and websites are doing so diligently and laudably. It is clear - and this is something I touched on quite a bit in the Newgrange book - that people are seeking to reconnect with ancient wisdom and roots. This new book aims to assist them in that task. Our myths are not mere stories, simple fireside entertainment. They venture into the depths of the human spirit, and represent aspects of ourselves and our humanity, and, in some ways, our flaws and failings as well as our genius and our brilliance. I believe that, in looking at the stories of the distant yesteryear, we can rekindle the ancestral aspect of ourselves that makes us uniquely who we are as a people, as well as reinvigorating our own inner spirits for the challenges of a frenetic and challenging 21st Century world. This book will be about bringing the Tuatha Dé Danann out of the sídhe and allowing them to become relevant to a modern Irish man and woman who have lost touch with earth and roots and cosmos. The late John Moriarty believed that we could reconstitute ourselves as a people by working from within our tradition. I agree with him. We are adrift, but we are not hopelessly lost. The fire in the head in each of us never burnt out . . . the emergence of the Tuatha Dé from the sídhe is symbolic of our return from a state of dormancy to a state of invigoration. We can stoke the ashes of the sacred fires of antiquity, and call upon the restorative powers of Diancecht, and the regenerative aspects of Bóann and Brigid, and the heroic aspects of Nuadu and Lugh and Cúchulainn and Finn to help us to become who we were supposed to be. We have a proud tradition. We have survived the invasions, the incursions, the gabála (takings). We are the same as the people who built Newgrange. They built it not only as an everlasting testament to their time, but also as an eternal reminder of the unvanquishable nature of our immortal spirits.

"Heaven is above us, and earth beneath us, and the sea is round about us. Unless the sky shall fall with its showers of stars on the ground where we are camped, or unless the earth shall be rent by an earthquake, or unless the waves of the blue sea come over the forests of the living world, we shall not give ground." (From The Táin)

Out of the obscurity of prehistory, a light has emerged . . .

Quote of the Day: Ireland and Europe

That constant refusal of the Irish to fall in with the rapid torrent of European thought and progress, as it is called, is the strangest phenomenon in their history, and gives them at first an outlandish look, which many have not hesitated to call barbarism. We hope thoroughly to vindicate their character from such a foul aspersion, and to show this phenomenon as the secret cause of their final success, which is now all but secured; . . . there is no doubt that the Irish is the most ancient nationality of Western Europe; and although, as in the case of the Chinese, the advantage of going up to the very cradle of mankind is not sufficient to impart interest to frigid annals, when that prerogative is united to a vivid life and an exuberant individuality, nothing contributes more to render a nation worthy of study than hoariness of age, and its derivation from a certain and definite primitive stock.

Rev. Augustus Thebaud, Irish Race in the Past and Present, 19th century

Study looks at social networking of Irish epic The Táin

Researchers have used mathematics to conclude that ancient Irish epic, Táin Bó Cúailnge, may be more closely based on real-life societies than previously thought.

A drawing for Thomas Kinsella's translation of The Táin
by the late Louis Le Brocquy. 

The study takes a numerical look at how interactions between characters in the ancient Táin Bó Cúailnge compare with real social networks.

Two Irish academics compared the social network structures in the story to each other, to real social networks and to fictitious societies such as in Harry Potter and Marvel comics.

The study by Padraig Mac Carron and Ralph Kenna of the applied mathematics research centre at Coventry University, England was published in the European physics journal, EPL, yesterday.

Read the full story here