Review – After My Vows by Thornsilver Hollysong

‘After My Vows (Love Songs from a New Godspouse)’ is the second album from Thornsilver Hollysong. Thorn is a fellow awenydd and devotee of Gwyn ap Nudd who I met through the Awen ac Awenydd Facebook group in September 2019. He hosts Gwyn Day Thursdays on Land Sea Sky Travel and we have since worked together on conferences and workshops for Gwyn and his ‘family’.

It has been spiritually affirming to form a friendship with someone else who shares my devotion to Gwyn. Whilst my relationship with Gwyn is primarily devotee to god, Thorn is also a godspouse, thus Gwyn’s lover and husband. Godspousery is an ancient tradition which has probably been around since humans met gods and entered liaisons and marriages with them. Its best-known form is Christian nuns becoming Brides of Christ and it is particularly deeply embedded in the Brythonic tradition, which contains numerous stories of the Fairy King and his people taking humans as lovers. It has been illuminating listening to this album and hearing of experiences familiar and unfamiliar.

‘After My Vows’ was composed by Thorn with his own piano-playing and vocals. There is a rawness and immediacy to this music, a heartfelt passion, an outpouring of devotion. Whereas some songs are waltz-like, others are operatic, some put me in mind of a monk’s voice from a polytheistic cloister.

If there is one line from the album that summarises it for me it is: ‘Come to the ballroom of waltzing shadows’. This is from ‘Won’t You Dance’, a song that, although the tunes differ, put me in mind of David Bowie’s ‘Let’s Dance’. Here Thorn relates meeting Gwyn as ‘Black shade, silver mist / In a raven’s mask’ ‘At the Faery Ball / Sparkling shadows darkling as the moonbeams fall.’ It took me back to my own clubbing days, dancing alone, melting into the oneness of Faery. It gives voice to the timeless truth that gods are not only met at the altar or out in nature, but on the dance floor. In other songs this moonlit ballroom becomes Gwyn’s Hall in ‘the Castle of ice and bone’ where Thorn sings before his Fairy King like Gweir in his heavy blue-grey chain.

In ‘Greensleeves (He’s My Heart of Gold)’ Thorn takes the tune and rewrites the lyrics from the traditional English Folk Ballad, replacing Lady Greensleeves with Gwyn in an incredibly catchy chorus that I’ve been singing along to since I heard it. The following lines felt deeply familiar:

He rode with grace and I knew his face
Though I had no reason to know him–
The songs I sing have crowned him King
With a pathway of stars strewn below him.

Another song which stirred this sense of familiarity was ‘Reunion’:

Was I a monk or mystic? Did I meet You?
Was I a cunning man or woman? Did I know You?
Was I a heretic or witch who dared to greet You?
And for me, to put the holy Church below You?

It put me in mind of my own feeling, upon meeting Gwyn, that I’d known him in other lives, since the beginning of time. This is also conveyed in Thorn’s songs and his vows to love him ‘forever’.

‘Light of the Mist’, with its softly song couplet ‘Light of the Mist / Ghost of the Void’, sent shivers down my spine. Here ‘ghosts stars’ burn in ‘Inspired art’ and we find untold stories only hinted at such as the tale of ‘the Star who gave his Wings’ and how ‘He kissed the dead/ To bring me back’.

In other songs, like ‘As I Made My Vows (It Felt Like a Wedding)’ and ‘Just a Life with You’ I found lines that, as someone without a romantic or sexual relationship with Gwyn (or a human partner), it was harder to relate to. However, I appreciated their craftsmanship and aesthetic beauty.

And You take my hand
Saying “Come, lie down
Where the fruit trees stand
Each with blossoming crown–
In the winter sun
Under apples sweet
With our hair undone
And our joy complete.”

The album is filled with instances anyone who has sat with Gwyn in a woodland or the forests of Annwn would ‘get’: ‘You’re taller than a man could be– / Your antlers, like an ancient tree / Branch out and cover up the distant cross.’ ‘I dream of stars in a forest sky / I dream we watch them, You and I.’

I would recommend ‘After My Vows’ to polytheists who have devotional relationships with Gwyn or other gods, to those who are called to godspousery and to those who are not, and to all who appreciate beautiful music.

‘After My Vows’ is available on Bandcamp for $3 HERE.

Thorn also blogs at Starstruck Awenydd HERE.

Review: Mapping the Contours by Nimue Brown

mapping the contours by nimue brownThere’s something old about the poems in this book, a bone-deep knowing, a merging of self and land which is reflected in the cover image. It speaks of a time when the hills were the contours of giantesses, the curves of beautiful goddesses, a time that still is and is not with us now.

‘Walking myself into the landscape, and walking the landscape into myself’ is the way bard and druid author Nimue Brown describes the process behind her new poetry collection Mapping the Contours. In the poem that provides the title she says ‘Human bodies are much like landscapes.’

In ‘Raised upon these hills’, one of the most beautiful hymns to a landscape I have ever read, Nimue evokes her lifelong relationship with the Cotswold Edge:

I was raised upon these hills,
My bones are made of limestone,
Sweet Jurassic limestone,
Grown from ancient seas.
I was raised upon these hills
My body made of fossils
Where the Cotswolds meet the Severn,
And the Severn seeks the sea.

She, land, and goddess are inseparable. In ‘Seeking Goddess’ Nimue speaks of going to the forest, rooting with the boar, sleeping with the lynx, making love with the trees, becoming ivy-templed and bird-haired, sharing milk and giving birth to bees. Inseparable too are the local animals and plants: urban foxes, an otter on a bus station, wild swans over the Severn, brambles, orchids, fly agaric. And most strangely a lonely ‘telephone bird’ ‘Outside my window impersonating / A ringing phone.’

There is a lot more uncanniness in this collection encountered in both the seen and unseen worlds. Trolls long to drink ‘the elixir of your terror’ and ‘dead things’ fall from the mouths of the dark siblings of the Shining Ones. In ‘Granny’s house’ ‘All chicken magic and bones’ Baba Yaga

…bears the knife
Opening bone truths
My shoulder blades
My wings
Beauty never dared
Whilst living.

As well as engaging with folklore Nimue provides a more homely and nourishing alternative take on old British myths originating from the Dark Ages of warlords and shining-browed bards. Her cauldron does not brew potions for ‘blinding flashes or ‘burning heads’ but ‘soil food, soul food’, ‘everyday gifts’. Her thirteen treasures are not weapons but a loom, a log, a seed, a cup, a candle…

Tongue-in-cheek she speaks of becoming ‘indigenous English’, a ‘Dirty Briton’, claiming back soil and soul. This act of reclaiming forms the heart of the book. I’d recommend it to all poets, Pagans, and nature lovers as a paradigmatic record of recovering an ancient way of being that lies within our bones and the bones of the land.

You can buy Mapping the Contours HERE and read Nimue’s blog, Druid Life, HERE.

Review: The Book of Onei by Christopher Scott Thompson

The Book of Onei by Christopher Scott Thompson is ‘an antinomian dream grimoire, providing deceptive yet true information about the art of Oneiromancy or dream magic in the form of poetry, fantasy, and intentionally ambiguous instructions.’

It is narrated in the voice of a ‘dark seer’, a ‘night wanderer’ drawn to seek the wisdom of the ‘beautiful chaos’ and ‘primal darkness’ and its ‘chthonic and horrifying entities’ rather than the light. Unlike similar narratives involving journeys to otherworlds he does not go with a benevolent aim such as bringing back a dead lover or relative. Following in the footsteps of his father, who stole The Book of Onei from the Great Library, this Promethean anti-hero goes instead to steal a secret – the knowledge of how to understand the book. “Prometheus didn’t give the fire back,” he tells his wife before setting out through the door in the basement.

The main thread of the narrative is this unnamed dark seer’s journey. The rest is composed of lore from The Book of Onei. This includes stories which take the form of powerful parables in a similar strain to Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathrustra, riddling poems, and lists of the Powers of Onei and how they might be invoked or exorcised through prayers, offerings, charms, symbols, and rituals.

The visionary scope of this book is immense and could only have been channelled from the depths of dream. One of the most striking characters is the prophet Eyes For Flowers, one of the Sons of Crow, who has huge sunflowers spilling through the eye-holes of his crow-mask. This image and the depiction of demons transformed into angels who ‘rose up from the husks of their bodies as burning wheels, as gears and eyes and wings’ put me in mind of the raw genius of Blake and Ted Hughes.

There is also a lot of animistic wonder. I was mesmerised by the song of the spider who sung to the Fool who would become Three-Times Exiled in his cage and by the words of the swaying serpent who teaches that ‘the Chaos Ocean is not a place you can walk to’ but lies ‘in the crevices between moments.’

As you might have guessed this book is packed with paradoxes. The places and powers in the Book of Onei may not exist in Onei itself and it remains unclear whether there is ‘a secret to be uncovered, or only lies within lies.’ The only way to discover the truth is ‘to go there in person.’ Deep contrary wisdom is conveyed about travelling otherworlds, drawn from fairylore, grimoires, alchemy, demonology, and, forthmost from the author’s experiences as a dreamwalker and visionary.

As a kindred spirit drawn to the beauty of the darkness I fell in love with The Book of Onei when it first started out as a series of blog posts and was delighted to hear it has been published in book form. When I read it in full I was not disappointed. It is a valuable contribution to visionary literature and dark mysticism that deserves to be preserved for longevity. Although not explicitly political it is a work that provides gnosis and guidance for facing dark truths in troubled times.

I would recommend it to anyone who has heard the call of the Veiled One who stirs her ‘cauldron made of swirling stars and galaxies’ or been haunted by the ‘eerie, dreadful dead’ of the Host. I don’t want to give away how it ends, only that it begs a follow up – more!!!

The Book of Onei can be purchased HERE.

Review: When We Are Vanished by Nimue Brown

42497_original_9dfb889b-31ef-4c08-803a-a044d1cf1a21_largeNimue Brown is a Druid author based in Stroud. I’ve enjoyed a number of her publications on Paganism and Druidry and her Bardic poetry books. When We Are Vanished is the first of her works of fiction I have got my hands on. It is a speculative mystery novel set in a not-so-distant future where hackers have shut down the global computer network to bring an end to ‘war, finance and government’. When the book opens, the system is in its death throes. Job centres, the police force and scientific laboratories are just about hanging on, relying on new ‘cellulose tech’, which has a mind of its own and a wicked sense of humour. And people are vanishing, suddenly, inexplicably, from the outskirts of civilisation one by one…

At the core of the story is a family: a father who has vanished; three sisters at various stages of vanishing named Kim, Epona and Maria; and their mother, Amanda, who is struggling to deal with it all. The character who I connected with most was the intelligent, erratic Epona. On several occasions her connections with her namesake, the Gallo-Roman horse goddess and psychopomp, are subtly referenced. For example, a computer screen run on the tricksy cellulose tech reads, ‘Eponine Matthews will tell you she is made of chalk’ (referencing the White Horse of Uffington). ‘Tell her to go home and not show her long face again.’ More deeply, Epona is the user of a technical device which allows her to plug into other realities, relating to the horse goddess’s movement between worlds. As I followed the plot, I was intrigued by how this would play out. It did not turn out how I expected!

Nimue has worked extensively with dreams and this shows throughout the book. Its twists and turns and much of the language evoke the non-logic of the dreamworld; metaphorical, absurdly funny, frightening, exquisitely beautiful. As Kim vanishes, ‘Meanings floated away from her. Fish, fish, fish. Sounds like wish… Set the wish fish swimming into the skies. Wish fish, wish fish and if you stare at the clouds for long enough, they would vanish too… She feels threadbare, a word too often repeated. A cloud stared out of the sky.’ Kim’s reflections on time also touch on the mystical. A recurring scene that haunted me was the one pictured on the front cover, ‘yellow dresses and ancestral women made of twigs, turning in a tight circle dance.’

When We Are Vanished succeeds in combining the numinous with an implicit critique of the flaws of our current civilisation: our over-reliance on technology and an inhuman system, our misplaced faith in irritating and badly written self-help books, the impossibility of shutting out wild nature and our wild selves, and the illusion that this world is the only reality. I would recommend it to readers who enjoy a plot rich in references to mythology, folklore and fairytales with surprising twists and to those who are fascinated by the possibilities of future worlds and other realities. As the illusion of liberal democracy slowly melts away from the Western world and alternatives awaken, the situation evoked does not feel far off…

You can purchase When We Are Vanished HERE.

Review: ‘Brigantia: Goddess of the North’ by Sheena McGrath

BrigantiaBrigantia: Goddess of the North is a short e-book (81 pages long) by Sheena McGrath. As far as I am aware it is the first book to focus on Brigantia as an individual northern British goddess; there are many books about Brigit which cover her relationship with Brigantia but none, until now, focusing on Brigantia alone.

Our information about Brigantia is limited to seven Romano-British inscriptions, one (or maybe two) statues and the writings of the Roman historian, Tacitus, who records the tribal name of the Brigantes ‘High Ones’ of whom Brigantia is believed to be the tutelary goddess. I live in Lancashire and have experienced Brigantia’s presence on the West Pennine Moors. I’ve researched her background but never investigated the context of her dedications. This is where Sheena’s work excels and provides an original contribution to scholarship on Brigantia.

One of the most fascinating things Sheena reveals is that several of the inscriptions and the famous statue from Birrens date to around the time the Roman Emperor Septimus Severus lived in Britain (208 – 211CE). His base was at Eboracum (York). The Severans played a central role in shaping the Roman cult of Brigantia.

This is evidenced not only by the dates but by Brigantia’s identification with Caelisti and pairing with Jupiter Dolichenus in one of the inscriptions. Septimus was of African origin. He and his wife brought their deities to Britain. One of them was Tanit, an African goddess who was venerated by the Romans as Dea Caelistis. Another was the Romano-Syrian Jupiter Dolichenus. This inscription results from Brigantia’s assimilation into the Imperial cult. The statue borrows attributes from Caelisti and Juno (Jupiter’s consort) as well as Minerva, Victory and Fortuna. Sheena also examines the political motivations behind the inscriptions pairing Brigantia with Victory.

In the later part of the book, Sheena discusses what can be conjectured about Brigantia’s role as the goddess of the Brigantes tribes. She focuses in particular on Tacitus’ account of the Roman invasion of Britain and the conflict between Cartimandua, Queen of the Brigantes, and her husband, Venutius. One idea (unfamiliar to me) is that Cartimandua was an exile from south. This explains why she favoured peace with the Romans whereas her husband was hostile toward them. Another consideration is the possibility of a ‘special relationship’ between Cartimandua as Queen of the Brigantes and Brigantia as their sovereign goddess,

Brigantia provides a detailed and enticing examination of the context of Brigantia’s worship in ancient British and Romano-British culture. I’ve been learning about Brigantia for over five years and there were many facts I was unaware of and points I will be researching further. Sheena also provides an extensive bibliography. I would recommend this book as an excellent starting point for all polytheists wanting to learn about Brigantia from a scholarly perspective and to students of Celtic and Roman history and religion.

You can purchase a copy of Brigantia HERE.

*I reviewed this book as a PDF so cannot comment on how it looks or reads on an e-book reader.

Review: A Kindness of Ravens by Rhyd Wildermuth

product_thumbnail.phpRhyd Wildermuth is a writer, anarchist, theorist, bard, and the co-founder of Gods&Radicals. A Kindness of Ravens is his second book. At its core lie Rhyd’s struggles to re-establish the cultus of Brân ‘the Raven King’ and bring an end to capitalism. These quests go hand-in-hand.

The book’s based around a haunting vision of ‘The City At The Gates Of The Dead’ where Rhyd stands beside a dead bard of Brân’s and sees a settlement, a town, a city, built and destroyed then a ‘last city… encompassing the world… And I saw what was coming.’

The cause of this destructive cycle is disenchantment which ‘follows disinheritance, displacement from the land into factories and mills and offices.’ Capitalism cuts us off from the land and creates cities where there is no place for gods, spirits, the dead, poets or the poor.

Rhyd’s work is inspirational because it not only elucidates the problem but offers solutions: ‘a change of place consciousness and a resurrection of class-consciousness, a solidarity between peoples and the spirits of place, a new treaty with the land and its inhabitants (living and dead, seen and unseen)…. we must see every place our home and a site of beautiful resistance.’

One of my favourite pieces, which has been a continuing influence on my thought and work, is ‘Awakening the Land: Madness and the Return of the Welsh Gods’. Narrated from a cliff-face in Snowdonia (which Rhyd climbed to ask advice from giants!) it seamlessly interweaves the stories of Brân with the personal and political.

Rhyd says ‘to know a god you must go mad’ and contrasts the divine madness of the awenyddion with the ‘sanity’ of waging out time for work and waging war. Against ‘the desolation of disenchantment’ he evokes Brân as a revolutionary figure who ‘embodies the land and its power’.

A problem Rhyd draws attention to is ‘trying to world in a god most don’t know’. Elsewhere Rhyd speaks of worlding the gods into existence: a process by which the gods come into the world through us. This can be beautiful and awe-inspiring but also frightening and disruptive.

Unlike members of older religions, contemporary polytheists have few scriptures or predecessors to turn to. It’s even more difficult when communications come from gods only a handful of people have written about from a polytheistic perspective. In the Welsh myths, Brân acts as a bridge for his people. In A Kindness of Ravens, Rhyd acts as a bridge for Brân and the revolutionary potency of his mythos.

Much of this book is intense: written with the raw, uncensored force of the untrammelled Awen. Rhyd’s masterful at taking you into his world to see through his eyes vast seams of injustice, the anger of his gods and the dead, the sorrow of ‘the Singers in the Dark.’

There are plenty of ravens and examples of kindness and care for others too. Rhyd writes ‘As long as we’re happy to enjoy the safety and protection of systems-of-meaning which devalue forests and Black bodies, our gods will be our own personal secret story.’

Rhyd advocates a polytheism wherein the land, gods, ancestors, our communities, the personal and political are intrinsically linked. The fates of all are bound up with the hegemony of capitalism and the imperative to resist it and build a better world.

A Kindness of Ravens is a revolutionary book: an inspiration for artists and activists and a way-marker for polytheists. I return it to my shelf with the firm belief it will be influential for many years to come.

Available through Lulu HERE.

Review: Scotland’s Merlin by Tim Clarkson

Scotland's Merlin by Tim ClarksonTim Clarkson is an independent researcher and historian who gained a PhD in medieval history from the University of Manchester in 2003. He has since written four books on the history of Scotland and the Old North. Scotland’s Merlin: A Medieval Legend and its Dark Age Origins is his fifth.

This clearly written and well-researched book traces the story of Merlin, a figure best known from television as a wizard and advisor of King Arthur associated with Wales and Cornwall, back to its origins in Dark Age southern Scotland, which was then part of the Old North.

Clarkson begins with Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae as the source of Merlin’s depiction as an Arthurian wizard then turns to the Vita Merlini where we find a different ‘Scottish’ Merlin: a ‘Man of the Woods’ possessed ‘by a strange madness’ after a battle who seeks solitude in the Forest of Calidon and predicts his own threefold death.

This depiction originates from Geoffrey’s knowledge of medieval Welsh poems about Myrddin Wyllt, who became wyllt (‘wild’) after fighting in the Battle of Arfderydd and fled to the forest of Celyddon where he found solace beneath an apple tree with a little pig.

One of Clarkson’s more contentious arguments is that this northern wildman was not originally called Myrddin but Llallogan. The earliest roots of his story may be found in Vita Merlini Silvestris, where Lailoken (Llallogan) tells St Kentigern he became mad after a battle then begs for sacrament before his three-fold death.

The name Myrddin arose from the false etymology of ‘Carmarthen ‘Merlin’s Fort’ (Welsh Caerfyrddin, with ‘m’ softening to ‘f’)’. There is no ‘need to imagine that Lailoken of the North was already known as ‘Myrddin’ before his story migrated to Wales’.

More contentiously, Clarkson claims that Myrddin was not pagan but Christian. This is partially based on textual evidence. Lailoken pronounces ‘I am a Christian’ and petitions Kentigern for the sacrament. In the medieval Welsh poems, Myrddin addresses Jesus and his sister, Gwenddydd, urges him to take communion before he dies.

Clarkson also contests Skene and Tolstoy’s views that Gwenddolau, the northern British ruler who Myrddin fought for at Arfderydd was a pagan. The 5thC archaeological evidence shows ‘the aristocratic landholding elite proudly displayed their Christian credentials on memorial stones’.

‘the organisational infrastructures of paganism were unlikely to have survived the onslaught of the new religion. The two institutions could not exist side-by-side. Wherever Christianity came, the old beliefs died out within a couple of generations. Christian missionaries in the Celtic lands were not, as it is sometimes imagined, willing to turn a blind eye to pagan worship. They were determined to eradicate it. In such a climate of non-tolerance it is very unlikely that druidism, in whatever form, was able to survive… we should envisage Gwenddolau as a Christian king.’

Although Clarkson claims Merlin was not a pagan he admits it is possible to see him as a Celtic seer, shaman, or awenydd, in the Christian tradition. Rather than asserting his view as correct he encourages readers to make up their own mind whether ‘the original story was sprinkled with Christian allusions by later writers and all references to paganism were expunged’ or ‘there was no pagan narrative from the outset.’

Before I read this book it was my personal opinion that the medieval poems about the pagan wildman Myrddin Wyllt formed the earliest strata of the Merlin legend, and that the vitae of St Kentigern and Vita Merlini Silvestris contained later Christianised variants as propaganda promoting Kentigern and the Christian church. I haven’t been persuaded otherwise. It remains my opinion that Gwenddolau was one of the last pagan rulers of the Old North and that Myrddin was pagan; the allusions to Jesus and communion were added by Christian scribes.

Minor personal disagreements aside, this is an excellent book which does valuable work in tracing the origins of the Arthurian wizard, Merlin, to their roots in the story of a northern British warrior who became ‘wyllt’ at the Battle of Arfderydd, found solace amongst the wild creatures of the forest and became a renowned prophet.

I’d recommend this book to everybody interested in Merlin, British mythology, and the history of southern Scotland and the Old North. As somebody based in Lancashire it’s encouraging and inspiring to see the forgotten Dark Age histories of the north returning to life and being reclaimed.

You can find out more about Scotland’s Merlin and how to buy a copy on Tim Clarkson’s blog HERE.

Review: ‘Brigid: Meeting the Goddess of Poetry, Forge and Healing Well’ by Morgan Daimler

Brigid by Morgan DaimlerBrigid: Meeting the Goddess of Poetry, Forge and Healing Well is an introduction to the multi-faceted Celtic goddess, Brigid, by Irish Polytheist Morgan Daimler. In this book, Morgan traces the threads of the ‘enormous, brightly coloured tapestry’ that gives form to Brigid in the twenty-first century to their original sources.

Morgan centres on the well-known Irish depiction of Brigid as three sisters in the 14th C Sanas Cormac: ‘Brigid of the Poets, Brigid of the Forge, Brigid the Healer’. She introduces Brigid’s earliest representations as the daughter of the Dagda and member of the Tuatha dé Danann in The Caith Maige Tuired and Lebor Gabala Erenn. Lesser know Brigids from the Ulster Cycle: Brigid the Hospitaller, Brigid of the Judgements and Brigid the Cowless are also introduced.

A chapter focuses on Brigid by other names: the Gaulish Brigandu, British Brigantia, Scottish Bride, Welsh Ffraid and Saint Brigid. Morgan traces a trajectory from her earliest worship in Gaul and Britain through her introduction to Ireland by northern British settlers in the 1st C to her arrival in Wales with Irish settlers in the 7th C.

Brigid’s Irish myths are covered along with variants of the Scottish seasonal story of Bride’s imprisonment by the winter goddess, the Cailleach, and rescue by her lover, Angus. A wealth of folkloric material is presented including the Imbolc rhyme ‘the serpent comes out of the mound’, the background of Brigid’s crosses, Bride dolls (brideog ‘little Brigid’) and the braht Bride (Brigid’s mantle or cloak).

My favourite part was the menagerie of creatures associated with Brigid; two famous kings of oxen, a king of boars, a king of rams, an oystercatcher, linnet, dandelion and Ffraid’s smelt. Morgan also shares traditional and modern prayers, chants and charms including her own translations and magical workings.

Each chapter ends with a section on Morgan’s relationship with Brigid. Three of these voice minor miracles. The first is remarkably evocative. Morgan speaks of going to a public chant circle led by pagan folk singer Kellianna. A small candle was lit in the centre of the room but before they called to Brigid it went out. In spite of this everyone held hands and sang a chorus for Brigid. The room was filled with warmth and Morgan felt Brigid’s presence. When she looked down, the candle flickered into life then settled into a steady burn and did not go out until the end of their songs. When I read this, I felt like I was in the room with Morgan experiencing her awe.

I’ve known Brigantia as the goddess of the Pennines for several years. I’ve learnt a little about Brigid from books and websites but have never seen her mythos brought together with such lucidity and coherence. I’ve also learnt new things to follow up such as the associations between Brigid the Cowless and the fian.

I would highly recommend Brigid: Meeting the Goddess of Poetry, Forge and Healing to anyone starting to seek Brigid on the grounds of its clarity, depth of research and provision of an excellent bibliography. I’d also endorse it to people with some knowledge of Brigid and longstanding devotees because it’s packed with fascinating information and shares touching personal testimonies to Brigid’s presence in the modern world.

Brigid: Meeting the Goddess of Poetry, Forge and Healing will be released on the 25th of March and is available to pre-order HERE

Review: Glossing the Spoils by Charlotte Hussey

In 2012 I wrote a very short review of ‘Glossing the Spoils’ by Charlotte Hussey. In response to a call-out from Chris Funderburg at The Druid Network, I recently wrote a more detailed review as this book has been such a powerful and lasting influence on my path as an awenydd. I’m re-posting it here as I’ve gathered followers since 2012 and believe ‘Glossing the Spoils’ deserves to be widely known.

Glossing the Spoils

Charlotte Hussey lives in Canada and is a lecturer in Creative Writing and Arthurian Studies and Celtic Literature. She has also trained with OBOD and studied Celtic Shamanism with Tom Cowan. Glossing the Spoils is a poetry collection which Charlotte describes as a ‘march’ through the earliest texts in Western European literature to ‘mend a break in tradition and time’.

The medieval glosa is the perfect form for this purpose. It enables the author to take four lines from an existing text and weave them as end lines into each of four ten line stanzas. The effect is the creation of a space where one can ‘gloss’ the lines: explaining, interpreting, re-imagining, bringing ancient often obtuse fragments to life for a contemporary audience.

On the cover are coins from the Hallaton treasure at Harborough museum in Leicestershire. The book is concerned with the treasure-hoard of our past literally and metaphorically. In several instances the ‘spoils’ are shown to have a strange, animistic, frequently dangerous life of their own.

In ‘Lake of the Cauldron’ the narrator is pulled into the Cauldron of Rebirth by the goddess etched upon it with ‘dreadlocks’, ‘long breasts’ and ‘a sweaty belly’, to be dismembered and boiled in the ‘churning waters’. In ‘Matter’, a shield empowered by an engraved dragon implodes as the cyclone of atoms tearing apart at Hiroshima, upon its destruction. A branch cut from a crab apple tree ‘possesses a potency all of its own, / calling, called to those it chooses/ like the silver one from fairyland.’

Figures from the deepest strata of Western European mythology are presented in new ways; uncanny and familiar. Beowulf is ‘working for the crime squad’: a ‘vigilante’ ‘on a mission to purge the city’ taking on monsters like the ‘psycho TV star’ tacked to the narrator’s door. Fand is the tear in the eye of a girl, ‘bruised and weeping’ on the morning bus. The Fisher King, a Vietnam veteran, watches his recruits sucked into the brown river of his wound as napalm falls.

Variants of Parzival are explored from a range of angles. In ‘Trolls’ the knightly quest is critiqued from the standpoint of the Loathly Lady. The hero is depicted ‘steely eyes fixed on some distant / vanishing point: a crusading convoy to join, another holocaust to start, / or a melancholic witch to burn.’ The Lady speaks: ‘Thoughts about whom next to destroy deprive you of joy.’

Another recurrent theme is otherworldy and magical conceptions. ‘Daemon Lover’ covers the conception of Merlin. ‘Devil May Care’ forms a tongue-in-cheek depiction of how an otherwordly being in the form of a woman collects ‘white spume’ from a male youth then, as a man, uses his ‘vis vitalis’ to ‘make a woman conceive.’ ‘Make Over’ re-tells how, with Merlin’s aid, Uther Pendragon takes on ‘the appearance of the Duke’ to sleep with Igraine (leading to Arthur’s birth).

‘Naked’ celebrates male and female sexuality. Based on lines from Geoffrey of Monmouth referring to a naked giant riding a dragon it opens with the Cerne Abbas giant ‘defending his turf, toughened / nipples like second eyes; roused / cock sticks out from his thighs.’ However it is modernist artist Georgia O’Keffe who throws her clothes off, ‘shakes her paint brush… like a shillelagh, / to evoke a dragon, horned, crested, / and then ride upon it naked.’

I have covered only a selection of poems from this treasure-hoard of glosa, which never fail to shock, disturb and delight. I would highly recommend Glossing the Spoils to all students of Druidry, pagans and poets as exemplary in re-envisioning the oldest myths of Western European tradition with formal mastery. Charlotte’s methodology has been central to my poetic and imaginative practice since this book was released in 2012 and I can’t thank her enough.

Glossing the Spoils can be purchased HERE.

Review: Snowdonia Folk Tales by Eric Maddern

Snowdonia Folk Tales by Eric MaddernFor my birthday a friend bought me a copy of Snowdonia Folk Tales signed by its author, Eric Maddern. I visited Snowdonia earlier in the year and was sad to leave, so it has been heartening to return through these tales breathed into new life by Eric’s local knowledge and enthusiasm and a fresh gust of Snowdonian air.

Eric was born in Australia but ‘after a ten-year journey around the world’ moved to Snowdonia and founded the Cae Mabon eco-retreat centre. Working in Aboriginal communities he came across the notions of the Dreamtime, songlines and ceremonial sites through which a people maintained a spiritual connection with their land and ancestors.

The Aborigines observed white Australians have no dreaming. Likewise In Britain we have largely lost touch with our spiritual heritage. In Snowdonia Folk Tales, Eric sets out to remedy this. The book is founded on a great song-line running through the Pass of Two Stones east-west through the Snowdonian mountains. Who walks this pass?

In the first two sections ‘Mythic Roots’ and ‘Legends of Arthur’ Eric covers the Matter of Britain. What I love about this section is that he has crammed in pretty much every tale from The Mabinogion which is linked to Snowdonia! These old, old, myths contain deep wisdom but in the translations I have read can come across as inaccessible and wooden.

Eric really gets into the bones of the characters and brings them to life. His re-working of the story of Lleu and Blodeuwedd is exemplary in conveying their feelings, teasing out the humour but also maintaining a sense of the numinous. The dragons buried at Dinas Emrys by Lludd form a narrative thread worming their way into the story of Merlin and Vortigern. Merlin disappears as mysteriously as he appears with the Thirteen Treasures of Ancient Britain. ‘Rhitta and the Cloak of Beards’ is hilarious. An unexpected gem is a brave reworking of the story of Lindow Man (how Eric connects him with Snowdonia I will leave out as I don’t want to spoil the surprise).

The following sections are ‘The Lives of Saints’ ‘The Tylwyth Teg’ ‘Folk Tales’ and ‘Historic Legends’. Arthur gets his come-uppance from St Padarn for coveting his richly woven clerical robe. The ‘fair tribe’ travel from Cader Idris to make mischief by inspiring endless dancing with the gift of a magical harp. The harp reappears floating hauntingly on Bala Lake after the old town of Bala was drowned and the harpist made a narrow escape with the aid of a robin. The stories of Maelgwn Gwynedd, Owain Glyndwr, Mari Jones and others illustrate beautifully how the lives of real people become the stuff of legend.

I enjoyed this collection of Snowdonian myths, oral tales and embellished histories immensely. I would recommend it to all people interested in Snowdonia and Britain’s heritage and to everybody who enjoys a good story. I also hope it will encourage people to visit some of the incredible places where these tales are set and share them with a wider audience.

P1110692 - Copy

Bala Lake