Tochmharc Étaíne, Aislinge Oenguso, Táin Bó Fraoich – these, and six other stories drawn from the earliest Irish literature, dating from the Iron Age (1-400 AD), first written down in the eighth century and transmitted to us via manuscripts from the later Middle Ages, are translated and retold in this absolutely enchanting collection.
“These tales inspired the earliest fairy tales as well as folktales that persist today, but they are sexier, funnier and more exotic than all the tales that followed,” declares the translator in her informative introduction. Not quite sure about sexier but they are certainly exotic and sometimes mildly humorous – the tiny undertones of irony in the originals (perhaps added by wry monastic scribes?) are caught admirably in the retelling here, both in the narrative itself and in Betel’s many good-humoured asides.
“All the clues pointed to a visitor from the síd. There are ways of recognising these folk, in addition to their sudden appearances. They are ravishingly gorgeous, with bright clothing and plenty of gold on them, riding or driving first-rate horses. They favour green cloaks. Sometimes they simply shine.” (Aislinge Oenguso)
The stories tell of elopement, abduction, adultery, divorce, jealousy. Emotion is primary: passionate love, hate and anger. The desire for revenge. No Sally Rooney-type introspection in this epic literature, which is all about surfaces, often glittering. Recurring colours are gold and silver, red and green, black and white. Characters are defined by appearance – stunningly beautiful, incredibly strong.
Britney Spears meets Shakespeare: How & Juliet puts a pop twist on star-cross’d lovers
Crime fiction: Quirky killers, an offbeat cop and the grimier side of Paris and the Costa Blanca
Roisín O’Donnell: ‘I became hyper-aware of the manipulative language used by abusive partners. I wanted to cut through that’
Harry Potter hyperfans will be putting their faith in the new TV reboot. But be careful what you wish for
Love is the theme but action drives the plots. Feasts and games, sword fights and battles abound. And magic: the people of the síd mingle freely with mortals; shape-shifting is standard practice. The woman you desire may fly off as an insect or a bird before your eyes. Cuchulain transforms into a horror movie monster when the battle lust is on him (as it frequently is).
But how beautiful these tales are. Is there any image in the literature of Ireland to beat this:
“After that day, whenever something struck her eye, Findabair would remark that even lovelier was the sight of Fraoch in the dark water, his white skin wet, his hair sleek and gleaming, his shapely face with eyes of depthless blue … His face was narrow below and broad above, symmetrical and perfect, and the branch with the red berries he carried between his throat and white face.”
Bitel’s writing is lighthearted and mellifluous; its musicality does justice to the originals. This is not a scholarly book, but it is firmly grounded in scholarship. A useful bibliography is included. A joyous, entertaining selection of some of Ireland’s oldest – and less well known – stories. Just great.
Éilís Ní Dhuibhne is a writer, folklorist and critic. She is president of the Folklore of Ireland Society.
