I <3 kelpies
Oct. 7th, 2003 03:12 amSo Sunday, to calm down and take me outside of myself, I went to the bookstore. I went to the mythology section and browsed. I was thinking of getting the Norse myth book
eselgeist has been working through - it was on the shelves, and is, indeed, pretty cool - but I ended up with The Fairies in Tradition and Literature, one of Katharine Briggs' books on fairies, and on total impulse, The Raid, a very enthusiastically un-bowdlerized retelling of The Táin, a major Gaelic epic about, um, cattle-rustling.
I haven't read the latter, aside from the initial skimming in the bookstore that prompted me to buy it; instead I've been inhaling the Briggs. She's a fairly major authority on the creatures, it seems; the book that had pointed me to her noted that most of the text of the Brian Froud/Alan Lee book Faeries, my first real introduction to the weird nastiness of the Good Folk, is lifted directly from one of her books. There's lots of analysis of themes and recurring images in this, with the occasional capsule synopsis or fragmentary quote.
This capsule synopsis is one of the most beautiful things I've read in a long time:
One story commonly told [of Kelpies, evil water-dwelling horses] was of seven little girls who were out walking on a Sunday, and saw a pretty little horse grazing near the lochside. One after another they got on its back, which gradually lengthened itself so that there was room for them all. A little boy who was with them noticed this, and refused to join them. The horse turned its head, and suddenly yelled out, "Come on, little scabby-head, get up too!" The boy ran for his life, and hid among the boulders where the thing could not get at him. When it saw this it turned aside and dashed into the loch, with the seven little girls on its back.
And nothing of them but their entrails ever came to land.
The "scabby-head" line is great, but I laughed out loud at the last line. It's just so perfect. It's a beautifully elliptical way of saying "the Kelpie gobbled them all up". How did anyone know it was their entrails?
I might stop reading the Briggs soon, in favor of The Raid; she's stopped talking about themes in the stories and the various creatures, and moved on to the 'in literature' part, which is much less wonderfully feral.
It's funny: I remember reading something Bruce Sterling said once. That he doesn't read science fiction much any more, that he reads all kinds of weird research, because he needs to to be able to write SF. Reading mythology is kind of like basic research for fantasy; it gives you a head full of the older, unsafe versions of themes that're done to death, and ways to spin off in completely weird directions - I never knew until Sunday afternoon, for instance, that faeries can be interpreted not only as magical Other People, but also as fallen angels too nice to be demons, and as the dead. Yes, the dead. A damn long way from Tinkerbell.
I haven't read the latter, aside from the initial skimming in the bookstore that prompted me to buy it; instead I've been inhaling the Briggs. She's a fairly major authority on the creatures, it seems; the book that had pointed me to her noted that most of the text of the Brian Froud/Alan Lee book Faeries, my first real introduction to the weird nastiness of the Good Folk, is lifted directly from one of her books. There's lots of analysis of themes and recurring images in this, with the occasional capsule synopsis or fragmentary quote.
This capsule synopsis is one of the most beautiful things I've read in a long time:
One story commonly told [of Kelpies, evil water-dwelling horses] was of seven little girls who were out walking on a Sunday, and saw a pretty little horse grazing near the lochside. One after another they got on its back, which gradually lengthened itself so that there was room for them all. A little boy who was with them noticed this, and refused to join them. The horse turned its head, and suddenly yelled out, "Come on, little scabby-head, get up too!" The boy ran for his life, and hid among the boulders where the thing could not get at him. When it saw this it turned aside and dashed into the loch, with the seven little girls on its back.
And nothing of them but their entrails ever came to land.
The "scabby-head" line is great, but I laughed out loud at the last line. It's just so perfect. It's a beautifully elliptical way of saying "the Kelpie gobbled them all up". How did anyone know it was their entrails?
I might stop reading the Briggs soon, in favor of The Raid; she's stopped talking about themes in the stories and the various creatures, and moved on to the 'in literature' part, which is much less wonderfully feral.
It's funny: I remember reading something Bruce Sterling said once. That he doesn't read science fiction much any more, that he reads all kinds of weird research, because he needs to to be able to write SF. Reading mythology is kind of like basic research for fantasy; it gives you a head full of the older, unsafe versions of themes that're done to death, and ways to spin off in completely weird directions - I never knew until Sunday afternoon, for instance, that faeries can be interpreted not only as magical Other People, but also as fallen angels too nice to be demons, and as the dead. Yes, the dead. A damn long way from Tinkerbell.