Crossing the Threshold
An Exploration of Ireland’s Fairy Lore
Original painting of ‘The Fairy Wood,’ by Jessie Howe, digitally layered with a modern forest road
The Fairies.
The image these words create in our minds varies for every person. As with all characters of myth, lore, and ancient story, their essence morphs with what we imagine them to be. They guide us across the threshold of the old and new world, to a place where time is suspended and the mysteries of nature become visible. Where magic becomes possible, and the unexplainable is given a cause. They are the force that is felt before seen. Attempting to define them is as elusive as describing the wind. Fairies offer a way to give form to concept, a face to the supernatural, and comprehension of the unseen that is relatable to our own human experience.
There is no greater, richer history of fairy lore than that of the emerald isle of Ireland.
Sketch of a Fairy Fort, by Jessie Howe
For the past couple of weeks, I have become absorbed by the most fascinating book:
Meeting the Other Crowd: The Fairy Stories of Hidden Ireland. By Eddie Lenihan, and Carolyn Eve Green.
I discovered this title through Audible, and firmly believe that this is a book best enjoyed by listening. As Eddie emphasizes, these stories are best conveyed when told, not read. There is enthusiasm, nuance, and soul to the spoken story that animate these tales to life. This engaging, incredible read is expressively narrated by Roger Clark, in his lively, musical brogue.
It’s a collection of Irish Fairy Stories--the real fairy stories--in all of their spectral, vivacious splendor. In one enveloping space, these tales hold the contrasting extremes of fairy tradition as told through the Irish experience. They manage to be colorful and dark; delightful and dangerous; amusing and ominous. All of them are very much alive, conjured from memory and spoken into existence by the eldest generation of Ireland’s deepest traditions.
This book was published in 2003, but the compilation of its contents were built from a lifetime of seeking and collecting stories. Eddie Lenihan is a true “seanchai:” a traditional Gaelic storyteller and historian, also known as a bearer of old lore and keeper of heritage.
Native to County Clare and now 71 years of age, Eddie is an author, lecturer, broadcaster, and all around national treasure. In the mid 1970s he began recording tales shared by the eldest generation of Ireland, whose knowledge of the old lore is rapidly fading from cultural memory. A sense of urgency motivated Eddie on his journey through the most remote recesses of the Southwest region, as he strove to capture the stories that reveal what he describes as “a hidden Ireland.”
Eddie’s quest to preserve the memory of this other world against the compounding challenges of modernity spanned twenty-seven years, and led him to encounter author/editor Carolyn Eve Green. At the time, she was searching for authentic story tellers to connect with for a children’s book series. Eddie had written an article about the now-famous Latoon Fairy Tree incident in the late 1990s, headlined by the rather direct title of “If You Believe in Fairies, Don’t Bulldoze Their Lair.”
To summarize a very long and remarkable story:
After much controversy an expensive motorway project was rerouted to avoid the demolition of a “sceach,” or sacred fairy bush. There is heavy superstition that the destruction of fairy property yields fatalities and utter disaster, based on countless legends of misfortune for those who have dared to violate this basic contract with the fairy world. After the motorway was rerouted, an unknown individual cut off the branches of the Latoon Fairy Tree and left the trunk bare. No one knows what happened to this person, though there is much dark speculation. Miraculously, the tree survived, and after several years sprouted new buds and bloomed again.
The ordeal of the Latoon Fairy Tree is an incredibly interesting story. Here are two articles about it:
Carolyn’s discovery of the New York Times article is how she connected with Eddie Lenihan. She described her first impression of him as a bold, assured individual who firmly stood “holding back the tide of modernity and utterly refusing to be intimidated.” Upon meeting him and recording his stories over the course of three days, she realized that there was a plethora of material for an adult book of fairy lore. The Fairy Lore of Ireland is brimming with peril, darkness, enigmatic characters, deception, death, and dire consequence. The majority of these stories do not have happy endings, and are not intended for children--let alone the sensitivity of American parents. Carolyn and Eddie’s collaboration resulted in a passionate effort to present an honest, authentic collection of Irish fairy stories, which became this book. These stories are original and as true to the source as can be—not a tepid, simplified rehashing of the publications already in circulation.
Typically, I am not one to rave about an introduction--but in this particular edition, Eddie Lenihan’s is not to be missed. One of the joys of this particular book is that there is no pressure to listen all the way through, in consecutive order. Dozens of various tales are available to freely skip around. However, I cannot adequately emphasize how important I think it is to listen to his introduction before diving into the collection of stories. It’s a brilliant observance of our current time and how the world has changed so significantly within a single generation. He masterfully demonstrates how these changes have threatened the survival of this parallel Ireland, nearly erasing the oral tradition of storytelling, ancient knowledge, and cultural connection to the landscape that once defined its people.
Many today are aware that such a world exists, but know very little about it. These genuine stories cast a fascination over people of every age, and continue to survive against all odds. In a globalized world focused on economy, technology, and prioritization of the factual, interest in the old lore somehow continues to prevail. With this in mind, Eddie describes his motivation to follow leads and preserve this parallel Ireland:
“Yet, profit can sometimes be measured in terms other than the economic, and time is something that does not come our way twice. So I have made a very conscious choice to follow old Irish stories to wherever they are to be found, particularly stories of the fairy world.”
Stories of the fairy world would accompany pastimes like conversations around a fire, gatherings at the open market and pubs, and late talks through long winter nights. The closest American custom I can ascribe to these settings is the telling of ghost stories, which are close to indistinguishable in the old Irish legends. Ghosts and the Fairy World were deeply intertwined, with stories of people meeting their ancestors in the afterlife through the portal of the fairy realm.
With today’s instantaneous access to heat, food, communication, and transportation, the traditional ways in which these stories were shared are all but gone. Electricity pushed back the frontiers of the nighttime, which was when most supernatural occurrences were believed to happen. This shifted our perspective towards darkness, and our perception of time. We fell out of rhythm with nature and grew more distant from the old stories, because the context framing them has completely shifted.
The technological advancements that catapulted us past the need for countless trades and travelling services have also left personal interactions and on-the-road encounters behind. Many of the old stories were circulated in small communities, and with the concentration of work in major cities, fewer people live and interact with one another in smaller towns. The dissipation of rural life has led to a gradual extinction of the legends and tales that once thrived, and the place names that identified aspects of the landscape are vanishing from memory.
Against this backdrop of relentless, fast-paced transition, one must ask--why do the old stories of the fairy world continue to captivate us? I believe there is a natural resistance to the invasiveness that today’s technology has taken on our personal, quiet time, and that we are starting to feel the casualties of emphasizing commercialization over community. Reclaiming our connection to an older way of life, closer to the pace of nature, helps us break free from the weight of the modern machine. There is an innate human need to reach for things beyond the mundane and immediate.
As Eddie describes, of the Fairies specifically:
“They belong to that indefinite, unclear time, when we are, even nowadays, most susceptible to insecurity, uncertainty, because our sight--our most important sense--is reduced, and because all our subconscious fears come to the surface then.”
There will always be certain aspects of life that we will not be able to explain. The illusion that everything is measurable and able to be analyzed is dissolved when confronted by the unfathomable, especially where tragedy is involved. In the wake of this, we seek reasons. We lose the footing to feel assured. And, we realize that there is so much beyond what we can immediately see.
As you will find in this collection of fairy stories, magic unfolds in a subtle, ordinary way. Often in that murky, misty hour when we can’t quite be sure of our senses, and the lines of reality blur. That is the best way I can describe the veil believed to separate “the other crowd:” it’s a place removed, of time as well as space. Most encounters with the fairies occur when a person is alone, away from noise, lights, and crowds. This leads many to skepticism, though it could also be said that the absence of distraction opens our awareness and shifts our frame of mind to be more receptive of our surroundings. For the older generation especially, their belief in this other world is unshakable.
When asked directly if he believes in the fairies, Eddie replied, “Well, all I can tell you is I know of many things that cannot be explained.”
The tales of this collection are richly varied, and all from oral sources. A few of the colorful titles include “A Fairy Cow,” “A Midnight Ride,” “The Bush That Bled,” “Three Brief Stories of the Fairy Wind,” “Strange Gravity,” “The Barefield Banshee,” and “Man “in the Fairies” Moves Hay.” Although these stories are diverse, they share some connective threads that help create a more comprehensive picture of this hidden world and its defining characteristics.
Here is a basic guide to the fairies of this book, should you ever travel to Ireland and want to go prepared:
They are very, very old...and have been here since ‘the start 'o’ the world’
Time is different in their world
The veil between their world and ours is thin, much like how we think of ghosts
They are most often experienced at night or in gloomy weather
They live among and depend upon the natural landscape
There is considerable and respectable proof of their existence
They are people, like ourselves--similar enough to make us wary of them, respect them, and reach to understand them
They speak Irish as their native language
They are given many different names by the Irish people, like “The Good People,” to take precaution in not offending them by being too direct
Many of the stories center around Fairy Forts, also known as Ring Forts or Raths. These were circular enclosures surrounded by an earthen bank. Often, a hawthorne or whitethorn bush grew there. They can vary in scale from the diameter of a quarter to an acre, and Ireland is home to over 45,000.
Some say that secret subterranean tunnels connect the fairy forts underground, like secret passages
Various animals, including horses, black dogs, pigs, and hares were associated with the supernatural fairy world
Reportedly, they cannot cross running water
They are diverse, and have different communities and cultures
They can take different forms, depending on their environment. Some live in lakes and resemble eel-like sea creatures with a mane of hair. Some have withered skin. Some are radiantly beautiful. Some bleed green.
They have armies, battles, and conflict amongst themselves
They have amusements similar to ours, and play games, music, and dance
Fairy music is reputed to be astonishing, and too quick for the human ear--a windy, twisty kind of music often played on a pipe. If a human is able to play a fairy song, it is because the fairies gave it to them with permission.
Never eat their food, or you will become trapped in the fairy realm and unable to return home to the mortal world.
Their presence is associated with whirlwinds
They are fond of milk
They are afraid of steel and iron
They are incredibly clever, and often have a mysterious agenda
They have a fair and cutting sense of humor
They seek revenge when wronged
They are entrepreneurial, reputed to buy and sell
They have their own holidays
Plants, trees, and bushes imbued with fairy magic can bleed when cut
They have favorite horses, and ride them
They sometimes exchange one of their own for a human child (changeling)
There are kinds of fairies who have a specific purpose (like the Banshee, who warns of coming death with her harrowing, mournful cries)
Do Not block their path--they have their own specific routes, which are to be kept clear at all times
Do Not interfere with their property. They do not suffer destruction of their domain without severe retribution. The most common, insidious accounts involve mysterious deaths, fatal accidents, and terrible consequences for those who commit the unforgivable crime of disfiguring or destroying a fairy bush, fort, or dwelling.
What can be learned from these stories? These tales of abductions and enchantments, the mystical and the precarious? Apart from how to avoid imminent doom and not offend our unseen friends, the resounding theme underlies an imperative need to respect the natural world. To divorce ourselves from our own hubris, and actively care for the generations who will depend on the world as we leave it. This vital lesson highlights the need for preservation, harmony with the earth, and a respect for all that lies beyond our immediate understanding.
I will leave you with Eddie’s concluding thought:
“To respect The Good People is basically to respect yourself.”
Article and original art by Jessie Howe. March 19th, 2021