Category Archives: History

SAMHAIN

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Today, we call it Hallowe’en. In Ireland, in bygone times, it was Samhain, pronounced SAH-win, the end of summer. 

This time of year has a special place in Irish folklore and is still celebrated in various ways on the beautiful and mysterious Emerald Isle. 

For instance, the Puca, (Pooka) are the malevolent fairies who spit upon any unharvested apples at this time of year. Woe betide anyone who is unfortunate enough to bite into one of these apples! Could this be the origin of the fairy tale Snow White, where the King’s innocent daughter is offered a cursed apple by her Wicked Stepmother, who is the jealous Queen of the land?

The Puca, my favourites among Irish fairies are not just evil, they can shape-shift, taking many forms. Allegedly, they particularly enjoy taking the place of an elite’s steed, having fun unseating the unsuspecting rider mid-gallop. In times of starvation and death in Ireland, it’s easy to understand how this particular spirit could have been praised for tumbling the wealthy landowners and their cruel agents. The thread-bare indigenous Irish had no money for horses, they walked or stayed put.

By far the most haunting and long-held belief of Samhain is the notion that departed spirits can rise from the dead and re-enter the physical world at this time. Think of the mega-sales of Michael Jackson’s album Thriller, when he and other zombies danced and moonwalked, while Vincent Price’s other worldly laughter echoed around them. We love nothing more than being scared out of our skins!

But away from commerce and American entertainment, the beliefs in the fairies and demons who come to haunt us at Samhain grip us to this day. Trick or treating, bonfires, dressing up as witches, ghosts and devils, these are all customs carried on since times long past. Harmless fun or risking our immortal souls? Samhain, summer’s end, a time of darkness, of mysterious  ancient symbols, of fairies, feasting and famine, we remember and we celebrate them all on this ever-changing green island. Happy Haunting! 

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A Meaningless Deal? Or Just Madness?

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I don’t want to write this, but I must face the fact that the Maybot has just signed the Brexit withdrawal and draft future trading agreement with the other 27 EU countries. There was no argument from the EU, Unity was preserved, much to the delight of the 27, though they do look rather shell-shocked, reminiscent of Gove and Johnson the morning after the referendum result. Spain in particular was cock-a-hoop, crowing that co-soverignty over Gibraltar was now a clear prospect.

I console myself with the fact that there is little chance of May getting the so-called deal through the Commons. The troops are lining up to shoot her down, or stab her in the back, depending on your pov. It says something when the Scottish Nationalists, the Democratic Unionists, Labour, the Liberal Democrats and even many Conservatives on both sides of the Leave/Remain argument can come together in their condemnation of what Jeremy Corbyn called a ‘miserable failure of a negotiation’ which offers the ‘worst of all worlds’. Good description, JC, though why couldn’t you have spoken up and offered some leadership earlier in the debate?

Now we wait and fret until the ‘meaningful vote’ in the House, in a couple of weeks time, time the PM will spend attempting to buy loyalty from her party and threatening future calamities for the UK if her deal is rejected. I pray the current opposition from all sides to the deal holds and that our politicians, for once, put the interests of the country before personal gain and don’t bottle it.

Don’t Soil Your Frock, Doc!

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SoilSo, the new Doctor is female, who’d have thought it? Come on, it’s only taken 50-odd years for the regeneration of the Timelord into the Timelady. Or is that me being sexist? And elitist? Honestly, you can’t open your mouth these days without giving offense.

Anyroad up, as they allegedly say in Yorkshire, what’s the difference? Gender roles in film and drama seem to be interchangeable these days. We have Superman and Wonderwoman, Spiderman and Lara Croft, Batman and Catwoman. But if you haven’t seen the difference, you’ve been asleep in front of the screen.

These thoughts led me to wondering about how the Doc, as an either/or, might have been conditioned as a child. For that we need to go back-a-ways, s/he has been around since the year – only Who knows? And also, the Doc, sorry to break it to you so crudely, is non-human. Yes, I know the character has been portrayed as a human, David Tennant, Tom Baker, William Hartnell et al portraying him over the years. But he’s never been human, he’s an alien, a fugitive from the planet Gallifrey, and he twoced the Tardis, when he fled from his fellow Timelords, way back in the day. All very normal, for an antihero. But the Doc is a hero, or at least he’s become one over the course of twelve series, with a correspondingly heroic fanbase. They love him. So how will they take to her, number 13?

Will the new incarnation be allowed to scruff out, like David Tennant, in a fleabitten pair of old tennis shoes, heavy stubble and an unflattering mac? Or act completely outre, as did Tom Baker, winding himself up in that striped scarf, mad as a box of frogs? Will she be permitted to show her genius, her vulnerability, her ego, her age, her complete range of attributes? I hope so. I don’t want to watch a fashionable, perfectly groomed, freshly manicured and eyebrow-threaded performance. Will we be able to forget that the Doctor is a female? We should. Will the production team bite the bullet and let the actor act? I hope so.

A lot of young girls are longing for this opportunity to breakaway from the tyranny of body-image, the banality of beauty-worship and the strait-jacket of sexuality. Will the 13th Doc be given the chance to do all that, in however-many episodes? Or will we be able to guess that the conditioning on Gallifrey was as limiting for females as it is here on the Blue Planet, and that she is constantly being reminded to ‘look good’ and not to get ‘dirty’?

Eddie the Edible Dormouse

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Now, serendipity is all well and good, but do you really believe in it? I didn’t, but then it appeared, just like that, as WordPress prompt of the day. Edible. If you’re a food blogger, you might have occasional reason to use this word, but only if you think your recipes are, perhaps, a bit iffy. Iffy is another satisfying  word, the much-used English phrase, a bit iffy, meaning something not entirely wholesome or desirable. What about that one for prompt of the day? But, forgive me, I digress…

The Edible Dormouse, which sounds a viciously cruel title, came to visit us in France last week. His proper name is Glis glis, which, I’m sure you’ll agree, is much less exciting then his nickname.  But, look up Edible Dormouse on Wiki and you will find him there. The first time I heard of Eddie was when he was mentioned by a friend who has lived in France for about 20 years. ‘Edible Dormice?’ I said, disbelieving, ‘are you pulling my plonker?’ At this point I should perhaps apologise for using another English colloquialism. Although I’m sure you will get the general gist. Oops! More slang and digression…

This friend explained that GG had been farmed and eaten by the ancient romans, among other early europeans. To add insult to injury, they were mainly consumed as a snack, not even as the entree.  Poor little blighters, I thought, though I must tell you, having now met an Eddie, they are not so little. About the size of a decent hamster, and looking a bit like a small squirrel. Our meeting occurred when he dropped in, literally, I think from the beams in the kitchen, onto the fridge, where SOMEONE had left a couple of dog treats.  Not a bit frightened, and definitely not camera-shy. You can see him for yourself, below. Cute little chuffer, isn’t he? Apparently, they like to settle in and make themselves at home…

 

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