Exeter University Students to Summons Demons and Fairies in New Study
This article taken from The Devon News has all the hallmarks of a classic H.P. Lovecraft or Arthur Machen story. A group of University history students conduct a study into ancient magick and attempt to summon fairies and demons using rituals from 16th century manuscripts; what could possibly go wrong? Could this be the folklore equivalent of the Cern project? The opening of portals to the underworld and the awakening of ancient gods? I certainly hope so!
Exeter University to study best way to summon fairies and demons
Researchers will start with ancient spell books up to 600 years old
The mysterious methods used by people in bygone times to summon fairies to help navigate the trials and tribulations of day-to-day life are set to be uncovered.
Researchers from the University of Exeter have launched a new study to examine collections of 15th to 17th-century spell books and grimoires that gave instructions on how to summon and conjure fairies, demons and other spirits.
This period, starting in the late medieval times, saw the writing of many books giving instructions on how to perform sorcery and necromancy, and fairies played an important role.
Among the common theories were that they were demoted angels, spirits of the dead, prehistoric human precursors, and minor deities in pagan beliefs.
Fairies were not always considered as virtuous, particularly as Puritanism grew after the Reformation in the 16th century.
A popular phenomenon was the will-o'-the-wisp, a fairy that led travellers astray at night.
As such, various spell books were written to conjure fairies, demons and other spirits for noble and nefarious purposes.
Samuel Gillis Hogan will begin trawling through ancient manuscripts in many of England's libraries to find evidence and records of how people thought they could harness the power of fairies over the 300-year period, and what influence this had on people's lives and culture.
"Fairies were thought of as wondrous and beautiful, but mostly dangerous," he said.
"But people wanted to summon them and harness that power for their own gain. For example, fairies were often asked to teach how to heal people."
Mr Gillis Hogan, who is starting a PhD, will move from Canada to join a team of historians at the University of Exeter who are already investigating the history of magic.
"The study of the history of magic is a rich vein for analysis and insight into the history of thought, religion, medicine, science, and philosophy," he said.
"It shows much about beliefs at the time. By fully understanding these practices, we can often reconstruct how it was perfectly rational given contemporary beliefs.
"It's easy to look down our noses at past or present cultures and dismiss them as 'backwards' or 'primitive', but intimately understanding these very different worldviews emphasises that our own is simply one among many."
Mr Gillis Hogan will be supervised by two historians, Professors Catherine Rider and Jonathan Barry.
His PhD will be funded by a Rothermere fellowship which supports students who have previously studied at the Memorial University of Newfoundland to study in the UK.
Anatomical Study of the Common Fairy
From the private collection of Octavius Rookwood (August 16, 1853 – July 17, 1936), American British pharmaceutical entrepreneur, explorer and occult researcher.
This specimen was acquired by Rookwood during a stay with the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire at their home, Chatsworth House in Derbyshire, UK. A farmer from the village of Allestree, situated approximately 30 miles to the south of the Chatsworth estate, discovered the small fairy body when his faithful rat catcher left the limp remains on his kitchen floor. The cat normally left daily 'glory gifts' for the farmer which comprised of mice, rats and small birds but during the spring of 1902 it started to leave dead fairies. Rumours spread throughout the local villages and the farmer began to exhibit them at the pubs and cattle shows for a small fee. Rookwood got wind of the story and promised the farmer a handsome reward if he could supply him with a fresh specimen. The farmer promptly delivered two fairy corpses to Rookwood; one complete and another partially devoured by the farm cat.
The framed specimens were exhibited at the Royal Anthropological Institute in London for a number of years before disappearing in 1911. They were rediscovered in 1998 during the restoration of Rookwood's ancestral home by the National Trust. Dismissed as a late Victorian sideshow oddity, the fairies were auctioned at Sotheby's to raise funds for the upkeep of the estate and purchased by a private collector believed to be a prominent Canadian businessman.
The Fairy Census: 2014 – 2017 is out
British and Irish fairies have been around since 500 AD. Ever since the Cottingley Fairy Hoax (1917-21) they have been in decline, however. In the footsteps of The Lord of the Rings and The Game of Thrones, British fairies are regaining their old lustre. Did you know that many British fairies don’t have wings and can be the size of a leaf or up to 15 foot tall?
The Fairy Census is an attempt to gather, scientifically, the details of as many fairy sightings from the last century as possible and to measure, in an associated survey, contemporary attitudes to fairies. The census was inspired by an earlier fairy census carried out by Marjorie Johnson and Alasdair Alpin MacGregor in 1955/1956, a census that was published in 2014.
Simon Young has offered a copy of this incredible survey for FREE!
Do download your copy now.
If you wish to submit your own sighting for the next census there are two (anonymous) census forms: one for witness accounts and one for second-hand accounts (experiences of grandma, uncle, friend etc). Confidentiality is assured and, in the case of publication, personal details will be changed to assure anonymity. Note, however, that by filling out these forms you approve their use in an academic survey.
1) If you witnessed the event first-hand click here
2) If you are describing an event experienced by someone else click here
There is also a general survey on individual beliefs about fairies, using an innovative visualisation technique. Here no experience or witness account is necessary: anyone can fill out the survey who understands the word ‘fairy’. Adults are welcome to lead children through the questions, even children as young as three or four.
3) If you want to do the survey on fairy belief more generally click here.
The attempt to prove the existence of fairies
Here's an interesting article from OZY which discusses various scientific attempts to prove the existence of fairies and similar creatures. Most of the theories are flawed from the outset and are derived from bizarre ideas such as a race of pygmies living under Stonehenge! Enjoy...
They used to be normal. Stolen away into the jungle by evil wizards who cut out their tongues, the Asiki children were transformed, their woolly hair morphing into long, sleek locks. Witchcraft destroyed their memories, and the poor, cursed children wandered the streets on dark nights in search of their long-lost homes. Or so the story went.
But Dr. Robert H. Nassau wanted to set the record straight. An elderly Christian missionary stationed in Libreville, French Congo, in 1901, Nassau, who was spiritual but not superstitious, patiently explained to townsfolk that they had nothing to fear from this mythical race of “little people.”
He had no time for such nonsense and always tried to refocus the conversation back toward his brand of Christian scientific rationalism … that is, until one particularly dark, moonless evening. With the sky covered in thick clouds, Nassau went for a walk and noticed a strange little figure following him. Upon closer inspection, he saw how the figure had strange, long black hair and struggled with a tongueless mouth to respond to his queries. A man of science, the Frenchman chased after the small being in hopes of capturing it for examination. But the only thing he caught, according to his mission log, was a single snippet of strangly, silky hair.
This account is an example of the late-19th and early-20th century’s fascination with euhemerism, the attempt to prove the existence of fairies (and other myths) through science and anthropological study. Tales like Nassau’s thrilled Victorian and Edwardian audiences, whose interest in mythical people was ignited by a growing sense of nationalism and the rediscovery of Shakespeare, particularly the Bard’s enchanting fairy-driven romance, A Midsummer’s Night Dream. Nassau’s telling reflects an effort to try and reconcile turn-of-the-century fairyphilia with the climate of scientific rationalism that characterized the Industrial Revolution.
Some 19th-century euhemerists like Alfred C. Haddon, George Laurence Gomme and John Stuart Stuart-Glennie argued that fairy tales were creative retellings of racial clashes in Bronze Age Britain. Haddon believed, for example, that fairy tales could be read “as stories told by men of the Iron Age of events which happened to men of the Bronze Age in their conflicts with men of the Neolithic age.”
The most sensational of the 19th-century euhemerist theories was presented by Scottish writer David MacRitchie in The Testimony of Tradition (1890). In this study, MacRitchie argued that fairies were actually a pygmy race of ancient Britons who once lived in the underground tombs and passageways found around archaeological sites like Stonehenge. Georg Schweinfurth’s discovery of African pygmies in the 1870s supported MacRitchie’s hypothesis, and when in the course of colonial expansion, R.G. Haliburton found a race of dwarfs living in the Atlas Mountains of southern Morocco, his theories seemed irrefutable.
Today, we know MacRitchie’s theories were wrong: “Advances in … archaeology, linguistics, anthropology and so on have since demonstrated that euhemerism might have been intellectually attractive but was not historically true,” says Adam Grydehøj, lead editor of Island Studies Journal. We now know that “a race of pygmies did not inhabit Europe prior to the arrival of a hypothesized race of Aryans.”
This approach to euhemerism combined Charles Darwin’s sensational theory of evolution with folklore, creating a scientific theory of fairies as a forgotten humanoid race. But other euhemerists, like Englishman Robert Southey, linked the fairy myth to St. Patrick’s mythical expulsion of Ireland’s snakes. The story of St. Patrick is said to be an allegorical retelling of the conversion of the Irish from paganism to Christianity in the fifth century, with the snakes representing Druidic priests who were known to have serpents tattooed on their forearms. So this branch of euhemerism claimed that the Druids, fearing persecution from their Christian
Even well into the 20th century, fairy theories evolved to reflect scientific and technological advancements. The most famous example? None other than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s attempts to explain the famous Cottingley fairy photographs through electromagnetism. Taken by cousins Frances Griffiths and Elsie Wright of Yorkshire — they later admitted the photos were a hoax — these pictures depicted fairies with incandescent wings and stooped mischievous gnomes dancing and frolicking around the teenagers. “The Cottingley Fairies” consumed Conan Doyle’s imagination, prompting him to write a book in 1922 titled The Coming of the Fairies, based on his research and experiences with the girls.
Doyle theorized that fairies existed on a different vibrational spectrum, like X-rays or ultraviolet, and could be seen only by those who could “tune in to” their world. He also guessed that the reason Elsie and Frances’ fairies seemed two-dimensional was because fairies were made of pure light and cast no shadow. In reality, the fairies that baffled and enchanted a nation were nothing more than cut-out fairy-tale illustrations propped up by hat pins.
In a world rocked by dizzying techno-scientific discoveries, it seems that euhemerism and other fairy theories were a way for people in the 19th and early-20th centuries to reconnect with simpler times — ones filled with mystery and enchantment.
Disturbing Discovery of Pixie found in Falcon Nest
Could these shocking images finally be proof of the existence of pixies and fairies?
Hosts of The Mystic Menagerie, a UK based podcast were puzzled when a regular listener sent in a series of images he claims were found in a protected bird of prey next in Cornwall.
The podcast covers topics such as strange stories, folklore and the paranormal. The listener, who wishes to remain anonymous, thought that the hosts would be the ideal recipients of the images and be less likely to ridicule his disturbing discovery.
An initial private message was received via Twitter asking for an e-mail address where the images could be sent and within a few hours the strange photographs landing in the The Mystic Menagerie inbox.
The series of images show a miniature partial human skeleton. The skull, spine and ribs are present although the limbs, lower jaw and pelvis are missing. A five pence piece is also present in the images to give an indication of scale. If these are genuine then this is the smallest humanoid remains ever discovered, but how did they appear in a falcon nest?
The mysterious man who sent in the images works for a birds of prey rescue centre in Cornwall. As well as caring for sick and injured birds part of this gentleman’s job is to monitor nests of protected species for annual breeding numbers as well as preventing eggs from being stolen by collectors. During a routine check he climbed a tall tree to inspect the nest when something amongst the twigs and feathers caught his eye.
The bones were gathered up and placed in a small sample bag and taken back to the rescue centre for closer examination. Cornish folklore is rife with tales of pixies who are said to live on the high moorland areas and having grown up in the locale of Dartmoor the man could only assume that what he had found were the remains of a pixie (or piskie).
The show's host Dan Baines was responsible for the Mummified Fairy Hoax back in 2007 and is also a prop designer so he knows a fake when he sees one however, this one leaves him stumped. Co-host Freddie Valentine has been in regular contact with the owner of the images and the remains and sees no reason why he would create a hoax as he wishes to remain anonymous and will give no indication of where he works or where he found them.
Due to the colour of the skeleton it has been hypothesised that the remains are a number of years old. Falcons return to the same nest year after year so it could be assumed that a few years ago the falcon returned from a hunt with something more interesting than your standard mouse.
Dan and Freddie are currently in discussions to see if they can travel to see the remains in order to certain if they are genuine or not. In the meantime the man has agreed to record a short video of the bones to at least prove the images are not Photoshopped in any way.
This month's podcast covers this intriguing case in greater detail and more information will be posted as and when it becomes available.
Listen to the Podcast here
The Cottingley Fairies - A case study in how smart people lose control of the truth
This article by Rosa Lyster for Quartz discusses something I encountered when it was revealed that the mummified fairy images I produced were fake. Even once you unveil the truth, a significant percentage of people will choose not to believe it. My hoax had similar parallels to the Cottingley case; although I revealed the whole event to be hoax, I also publicly admitted my belief in fairies and that I had also seen them, a statement I stand by to this day.
The title of Rosa's article 'how smart people lose control of the truth' can be demonstrated even more with religion. It doesn't take fairies to show how people, even the smart ones, can believe in the most absurd things. Just look to the myths and legends purported by mainstream religion and you'll find a melting pot of unfeasible craziness where the control of the truth was lost thousands of years ago.
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One hundred years ago, two girls went down to the stream at the bottom of a garden in Cottingley, England, and took some photographs of fairies. The fairies were paper cut-outs, which Elsie Wright, age 16, had copied from a children’s book. She and 10-year-old Frances Griffiths took turns posing with the sprites.
The girls developed the photographs in Elsie’s father’s darkroom, and presented them to their families as stunning evidence that fairies were real. Elsie’s father didn’t believe them—but her mother did. Two years later, she showed the photographs at a meeting of the Theosophical Society, a group dedicated to exploring unexplained phenomena and “forming the nucleus of a universal brotherhood of humanity.”
The story of the Cottingley fairies has always fascinated me—not because of the particulars of the case, but because of what it reveals about the life cycle of a lie. In contrast to other famous hoaxes, it doesn’t seem malicious, or even necessarily deliberate. Instead it seems to me to be a story about how a single, relatively small act of deception can lead a large group of people to lose control over the truth.
In the first photograph, Frances Griffiths stares somewhere to the right of the camera lens, pointedly not looking at the cardboard figures capering on the grass in front of her. In the second one, Elsie Wright leans forward to shake the hand of a toddler-sized boy fairy. Looking at them now, both photographs seem immediately identifiable as fakes. The figures are obviously propped-up and two dimensional. Everything, including the expressions on both girls’ faces, looks staged. It is hard to imagine the photos seeming convincing to anyone older than 12.
Yet the Theosophical Society saw things differently; the members immediately and ecstatically accepted the photographs as real. Edward Gardner, a writer and leading member of the Society, took them as proof that the “next cycle of evolution was underway” and mounted a campaign to convince the public of their authenticity. He gave lectures on the photographs, made copies of them, and passed them reverently around at meetings.
Initial press coverage was skeptical; one editorial noted that the photographs could be explained not by “a knowledge of occult phenomena but a knowledge of children.” But during and after World War I, spiritualism and mysticism gained increased influence over a grieving British public. The fairy photographs seemed to resonate with many people who were eager to believe in the existence of a better world, and in the possibility that we might be able to communicate with it.
Willingness to believe in the fairies was not a matter of intelligence or education. None other than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, a trained physician and the creator of Sherlock Holmes, was dead-set on the whole notion. Doyle, a noted spiritualist, saw the photographs as evidence that communication could exists between material and spiritual worlds.
Doyle published an article about the photographs in The Strand magazine, and sent Gardner to visit the girls. Imagine being either Frances or Elsie at that moment. You have told a lie—a tale that started out as a joke, maybe, or a daydream. Now things are taking on a momentum that you cannot quite control. A stranger comes to your house with two cameras and says, No pressure, kids, but we would all just be thrilled to death if you could get us a few more shots of those fairies. Do you confess and make a fool out of everyone—or do you do what everyone clearly wants you to do, which is traipse off down to the stream and produce some more photographs?
The girls came back with three more pictures: Frances and the Leaping Fairy, Fairy Offering Posy of Harebells to Elsie, and Fairies and their Sun-Bath. These, too, look absurdly fake to modern eyes. But Gardner and Doyle fell for it again. Gardner then brought in a psychic, who claimed that the whole place was just crawling with fairies.
To me, the strangest part of this story is not that two girls pretended they knew some fairies, but rather that adults so badly wanted their encounters to be true. Not just Gardner and Doyle, whose reputations, by that point, were at least partially at stake. Lots of people were ready to believe. They twisted and massaged the narrative to add credibility. The social reformer Margaret Macmillan, for instance, emphasized that the photographers were children, and thus without motive or guile: “How wonderful that to these dear children such a wonderful gift has been vouchsafed.”
The novelist Henry de Vere Stacpool, meanwhile, insisted that the photographs were real because they just seemed truth-y: “Look at [Frances’] face. Look at [Elsie’s] face. There is an extraordinary thing called Truth which has 10 million faces and forms—it is God’s currency and the cleverest coiner or forger can’t imitate it.” The girls were telling the truth because they looked like they were telling the truth, and that was proof enough.
Eventually, people stopped caring about the fairies. Interest in the supernatural was on the wane, and Doyle was looking increasingly unhinged. The girls produced no more photographs, and the public moved on.
Every once in a while, though, someone would track down one of the girls and press them for more details, or try to get them to admit that they had been making it up. In 1983, they finally admitted that the photographs were faked, but maintained that they really had seen fairies. Elsie said that they were all faked, but Frances said that the last one was real. Frances’s daughter later insisted that fairies were real, and that her mother would never lie. You will still find corners of the internet today where people will say the same thing. Despite the girls mostly owning up to the lie, people still want to believe it, and so they will say that it is true.
The problem with telling a lie is that you often have to tell another one after that, to keep up appearances. And then it’s too late to admit what you made up, and so you just keep on lying. The issue becomes not the initial act of deception, but the fact that you’ve lied for so long—years and years and years. You may even start to believe the lie yourself. I have been thinking about it a lot lately, watching the news. Watching people on my TV lie; wondering if they even know that they are lying, as the stakes keep getting higher and higher.
Jordskott Season 2 Trailer Released
One of my TV highlights of last year is back this autumn with more eerie fairy folklore driven drama. This article from The Killing Times dissects the new 2 minute preview to see what we might expect from Henrik Björn's mystical masterpiece.
Although Swedish series Jordskott was broadcast here in the UK on ITV Encore, it did fantastically well internationally, and was sold and played out in 50 countries. It was an insane, bonkers series that told the story of Detective Inspector Eva Thörnblad (Moa Gammel), who returns to Silver Height seven years after her daughter Josefine disappeared by a lake in the woods. The body was never found and the girl was believed to have drowned. Then a boy vanished without a trace and Eva was intent on finding out if there was a link to her daughter’s disappearance. That was just the start of things: add in some ancestral weirdness with her dad, timber empire man Johan Thörnblad, witches, woodland folk and strange black liquid and Jordskott was like your traditional Scandi Noir mixed with a fairytale. Finally we have confirmation of a second series and a trailer to go with it.
Let’s check in with creator, Henrik Björn:
The teaser begins with an exclusive and complete small scene in a way that overlaps season one and two. This scene happens right now in Silver Height. It’s Jörgen Olsson, the surviving brother Olsson, who will find a car in the woods. Harry Storms car. Storm was the man who caused so much [trouble] in Silver Height in pursuit of who kidnapped the children. In the car there was the whole of Storm’s investigation and Jorgen realises that Storm has gathered information on Esmeralda (Happy Jankell). She is the same girl who Jorgen accused of killing his brother Eddie. It felt great to give the fans a little taste of jordskott-candy for Christmas.
You can see the trailer below, but what’s interesting is that the city is being framed as a major location in this second series, rather than the pretty much exclusive woodland setting of series one.
It is partly familiar and partly new. There are some places that we like to see again. At the same time, I did not stand still in season one, we’re going forward. It happens new things that need to be managed. Events of season one obviously affects the runner-up, but the new stands on its own and it is necessary.
There’s also a shot of the witch, Ylva, who seemingly died in series one. Intriguing. Anyway, filming begins in January (well, at least continues) and carries on until the summer, and Björn says that the action will pick up two years after all the drama of series one. What’s more, my favourite character – police chief Göran Wass (the brilliant Göran Ragnerstam, who was also in the equally bonkers Ängelby this year, returns).
The big question is: will we see Muns and find out who he is (I realise that to non-Jordskott watchers, this will make no sense whatsoever). More news as I get it…
If you're a Jordskott fan you may also be interested in my latest book project 'Fairy Rings & Monstrous Things' which is currently being supported via kindred spirits on Patreon.
The Mummified Fairy Hoax is being turned into a book and you can be part of it!
The time has finally come to for me to start writing my account of the mummified fairy hoax. 2017 will be 10th anniversary of the event that changed my life in ways I could have never imagined. The folly of the mummified fairy may have destroyed my professional career but the opportunities and adventures that ensued have ironically turned the curse into a gift of new life and discovery.
The project will be hosted through Patreon, which for those who are unaware, is a way for creators to fund their work through subscription payments from their fans. As I am primarily a prop artist I can offer more rewards to my supporters than just written work. I plan to illustrate my own work and create limited edition fairy sculptures for the top level subscribers. It’s a great opportunity for you to get a piece of my work at a fraction of the cost AND get all of the written material & additional art as a bonus.
The story goes far beyond everything I have ever revealed in my lectures. I give a hint at the end of my presentation about a mysterious letter received from one of the UK's highest security mental institutions, but the story is far from over. There's Nazi cults, secret tunnels, derelict WWII military installations, arcane secrets and close encounters with the security services.
How does all of this relate to the original mummified fairy hoax? Well, you'll have to become a patron to find out.
In a creative kick start to 2017 the project launched today so if you’d like to join me on my unexpected journey and pledge your support it will be an honour to have you aboard.
You can find out more information and support the project here.
Pan’s Labyrinth: A Decade of Fairy Tales & Fascism
It's 10 years since the release of Guillermo del Toro's compelling and deeply involving masterpiece. This terrifying and visually wondrous fairy tale for adults blends fantasy and dark drama into one of the most magical films that is still as refreshingly different today as it was back in 2006.
A celebrate this cinematic classic I share here with you a great article by Gary Shannon from TheYoungFolks.com and for you movie geeks, 15 things you may or may not know about Pan's Labyrinth.
Pan’s Labyrinth opens with a shot moving in a reverse: It’s night and a young girl lies on the floor as blood streaming from her nose begins to shrink back in. It’s striking, haunting, horrifying and tragic, when you see it for the first time you’re not completely sure what to make of it, or at least not yet. The young girl is Ofelia and director Guillermo del Toro indicates something crucial about her character. Ofelia is dying, but just as the light in her eyes begin to fade the camera zooms into their overwhelming blackness. From there we see, at a distance, a similar girl running through a vast array of ancient cloisters and spires. A narrator describes the scene but the image alone tells us all: A princess is trying to escape her kingdom of darkness, and as she ascends a spiral staircase her world becomes brighter. As she reaches the top of the staircase a bright flash overpowers her and, as the narrator describes, the princess is consumed by the sunlight and becomes a mortal.
In the next shot we see Spain in 1944. Pan’s Labyrinth takes place after the Spanish Civil War, just as dictator Francisco Franco ascends to power and, for over the next 30 years, becomes one of the country’s most maligned rulers. In a considerably less abstruse establishing shot we see a caravan of well heeled cars (for rich people), inside one of them is Ofelia, an inspirited young girl, and her pregnant mother. The two are traveling to meet Ofelia’s stepfather, Captain Vidal, the despotic head of a backwoods military compound. There he reigns over the area’s inhabitants with a rigid (and evil) authority indicating that he’s the compound’s veritable dictator. Guillermo del Toro’s world is oppressive, scary and real. So where does the fantasy come into play?
Ofelia is a bookworm who relishes in her space and freedom. So much so that when all the cars stop (to relieve her mother of a debilitating morning sickness) Ofelia veers from the caravan’s path. Deep in the woods she encounters a strange insect which, in fact, happens to be a fairy. One night the fairy visits Ofelia and, urging her to come with it, she follows it to a stone labyrinth hidden in the wooded outskirts of the compound. There she meets a weird being dubbed the Faun, he’s made of earthy skin, boasts a dubious affability and wears an off-putting, cat-like smile. The Faun’s words are elongated and grandiose, he lures Ofelia with the promise of riches of eternity inside a fairytale kingdom, and refers to her as its long lost princess who had run away from the kingdom. Ofelia, an idealist, accepts the Faun’s terms. To obtain her immortality Ofelia must complete 3 separate tasks, each one strange and terrifying. Guillermo del Toro’s world is magical, mysterious and make-believe. So where does the realism come into play?
Pan’s Labyrinth is a film of two vastly contrasting textual layouts. Since its release they’ve spawned several theories and perspectives of what the binary concept of fantasy & reality in the film actually means. A more pessimistic perspective assigns Pan’s Labyrinth two worlds as a eulogy on the power of escapism, how Ofelia’s entrenched journey through mystical realms are products of childish delusions created to help the girl come to grips with a harsher reality. Guillermo del Toro, however, despite encouraging people to make-up their own assumptions of the film, believes that the fairy tale kingdom in Pan’s Labyrinth was real. Which means it has to be, right? Since its release 10 years ago ideas have swelled into even more convoluted arguments, all of which are theoretical and, unfortunately irrelevant. Films, like Pan’s Labyrinth, can show us reality and fantasy, but neither description consigns the film to be either real or fake. As the fantasy novelist Lloyd Alexander is quoted to have said, “Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It’s a way of understanding it.”
Reading a good book, as Ofelia does, doesn’t offer any sort of escape from her stepfather’s reign of terror but broadens her mind to life’s endless possibilities, outside of consigned oppression, militaristic fascism and psychological totalitarianism. There is a character in Pan’s Labyrinth, Doctor Ferreiro, a physician and a pacifist, who secretly sympathizes with the rebels fighting Captain Vidal. He questions the Captain, something the Captain hates, and at times the Doctor even undermines him. The Doctor’s deciding moment comes in the form of an insult, aimed toward the Captain, which in essence reflects the film in its entirety: “But Captain, to obey, just like that, for obedience’s sake . . . without questioning . . . that’s something only people like you do.” Ofelia’s mother, on the other hand, acts as an antithesis to everything the Doctor stands for, the woman is confined to the security of her abusive husband’s autocracy. In a heartbreaking sequence the woman literally casting her life (manifesting as a mandrake root) into the fireplace and says to Ofelia, in a tragic rejection of life itself, “Magic does not exist. Not for you, me or anyone else.”
Then we have characters like Mercedes and Ofelia, two people who seem to exist on the polarizing center of obedient confinement and rebellious liberation. Both Mercedes and Ofelia seem to be the respective protagonists of their own stories. Mercedes is an insider for the rebel battalion her brother commands. She acts as a maid, working undercover to learn of Captain Vidal’s battle strategies, as well as smuggling things out of the compound to supply his men with food, medicine and other kinds of sustenance. Ofelia, on the other hand, seems cut-off from the conflict despite being very much in the midst of it. Her mind, instead, seems intent on completing her 3 tasks where she must remain unquestioningly obedient to the Faun’s stringent terms. We know where their hearts lie, Guillermo del Toro likes these characters, but their choices and actions are fraught with complex moral dilemmas. Not even the fairy tale aspect of Pan’s Labyrinth comes with easy answers . . .
In Pan’s Labyrinth’s climax we see Ofelia with her infant brother running toward the labyrinth. It’s in the midst of a decisive battle where the rebels begin outnumber the compound’s soldiers. Captain Vidal is hot on her trail, carrying in his hand a pistol. As Ofelia arrives to the labyrinth’s center the Faun is there to greet her. This time though he feels oddly unwelcoming, carrying the knife she obtained during her second task. The Faun presents her with a third task: To procure a small drop of blood from her brother. Ofelia backs away, hesitant to listen to the Faun, and outright refuses to harm her brother. By this point Vidal arrives, and much like the Faun, he too wants Ofelia’s brother. Vidal can’t see the Faun but sees Ofelia and her brother clearly. He delicately takes the brother from Ofelia’s arms and, with striking visual reserve, he shoots the girl.
Pan’s Labyrinth ends the same way it begins, but this time it’s not in reverse: It’s night and a young girl lies on the floor as blood streaming out of her nose. This time we know who she is. This time the moment, instead of being played for mystery, is played for a devastatingly tragic grandeur. Dying, Ofelia sees the kingdom she was promised. Is it a delusion? Did she pass the Faun’s test? We don’t completely know but it’s happy and resolute. Ofelia is congratulated by the Faun, but for what? She refused to complete the third task. Well, not exactly. The Faun reveals that by refusing to take the blood of the innocent and, ultimately, for thinking for herself she had won her reward. It’s almost too happy of an ending. The shot dissolves back to the dying Ofelia. What is del Toro saying about Ofelia, or the Spanish Civil War, or about people in general? In a satisfying closing note, Captain Vidal surrenders the son and dies at the hands of Mercedes and the remaining rebel battalion, but not before Mercedes shows one last act of defiance:
Vidal: “Tell my son the time that his father died. Tell him—”
Mercedes: “No. He won’t even know your name.”
In the world of fairies, fauns and eternity, Ofelia’s goodness earned her a happily ever after. In the world of dictators, wars and tragedies Ofelia’s goodness earned her a sad, lonely death. Whether Ofelia’s dying visions were illusory or real we can’t deny del Toro’s simple truths. Happy endings don’t exist in the real world, the good are punished and the wicked are rewarded. And like those who sought to liberate their country in the Spanish civil war Ofelia’s self-determinism came at the cost of her life. As she lays dying, Mercedes grieves over her lifeless body. A strange image follows, Ofelia smiles. Why? Because like the runaway princess in the opening Ofelia is too finally escaping her kingdom of darkness.
14 Fantastical Facts About 'Pan's Labyrinth'
Between his modest comic book hits Hellboy and Hellboy II: The Golden Army, imaginative Mexican filmmaker Guillermo del Toro made a film that was darker and more in Spanish: Pan's Labyrinth, a horror-tinged fairy tale set in 1944 Spain, under fascist rule. Like many of del Toro's films, it's a political allegory as well as a gothic fantasy. The heady mix of whimsy and violence wasn't everyone's cup of tea, but it won enough fans to make $83.25 million worldwide and receive six Oscar nominations (it won three). On the tenth anniversary of the film's release, here are some details to help you separate fantasy from reality the next time you take a walk in El Laberinto del Fauno.
1. IT'S A COMPANION PIECE TO THE DEVIL'S BACKBONE
Del Toro intended Pan's Labyrinth to be a thematic complement to The Devil's Backbone, his 2001 film set in Spain in 1939. The movies have a lot of similarities in their structure and setup, but del Toro says on the Pan's Labyrinth DVD commentary that the events of September 11, 2001—which occurred five months after The Devil's Backbone opened in Spain, and two months before it opened in the U.S.—changed his perspective. "The world changed," del Toro said. "Everything I had to say about brutality and innocence changed."
2. IT HAS A CHARLES DICKENS REFERENCE
When Ofelia (Ivana Baquero) arrives at Captain Vidal's house, goes to shake his hand, and is gruffly told, "It's the other hand," that's a near-quotation from Charles Dickens' David Copperfield, when the young lad of the title meets his mother's soon-to-be-husband. Davey's stepfather turns out to be a cruel man, too, just like Captain Vidal (Sergi López).
3. DUE TO A DROUGHT, THERE ARE VERY FEW ACTUAL FLAMES OR SPARKS IN THE MOVIE
The region of Segovia, Spain was experiencing its worst drought in 30 years when del Toro filmed his movie there, so his team had to get creative. For the shootout in the forest about 70 minutes into the movie, they put fake moss on everything to hide the brownness, and didn't use squibs (explosive blood packs) or gunfire because of the increased fire risk. In fact del Toro said that, except for the exploding truck in another scene, the film uses almost no real flames, sparks, or fires. Those elements were added digitally in post-production.4. IT CEMENTED DEL TORO'S HATRED OF HORSES.
The director is fond of all manner of strange, terrifying monsters, but real live horses? He hates 'em. "They are absolutely nasty motherf*ckers," he says on the DVD commentary. His antipathy toward our equine friends predated Pan's Labyrinth, but the particular horses he worked with here—ill-tempered and difficult, apparently—intensified those feelings. "I never liked horses," he says, "but after this, I hate them."
5. THE FAUN'S IMAGE IS INCORPORATED INTO THE ARCHITECTURE
If you look closely at the banister in the Captain's mansion, you'll see the Faun's head in the design. It's a subtle reinforcement of the idea that the fantasy world is bleeding into the real one.
6. IT MADE STEPHEN KING SQUIRM
Del Toro reports that he had the pleasure of sitting next to the esteemed horror novelist at a screening in New England, and that King squirmed mightily during the Pale Man scene. "It was the best thing that ever happened to me in my life," del Toro said.
7. IT REFLECTS DEL TORO'S NEGATIVE FEELINGS TOWARD THE CATHOLIC CHURCH
Del Toro told an interviewer that he was appalled by the Catholic church's complicity with fascism during the Spanish Civil War. He said the priest's comment at the banquet table, regarding the dead rebels—"God has already saved their souls; what happens to their bodies, well, it hardly matters to him"—was taken from a real speech that a priest used to give to rebel prisoners in the fascist camps. Furthermore, "the Pale Man represents the church for me," Del Toro said. "He represents fascism and the church eating the children when they have a perversely abundant banquet in front of them."
8. THERE'S A CORRECT ANSWER TO THE QUESTION OF WHETHER IT'S REAL OR ALL IN OFELIA'S HEAD
Del Toro has reiterated many times that while a story can mean different things to different people, "objectively, the way I structured it, there are clues that tell you ... that it's real." Specifically: the flower blooming on the dead tree at the end; the chalk ending up on Vidal's desk (as there's no way it could have gotten there); and Ofelia's escape through a dead end of the labyrinth.
9. THE PLOT WAS ORIGINALLY EVEN DARKER
In del Toro's first conception of the story, it was about a married pregnant woman who meets the Faun in the labyrinth, falls in love with him, and lets him sacrifice her baby on faith that she, the baby, and the Faun will all be together in the afterlife and the labyrinth will thrive again. "It was a shocking tale," Del Toro said.
10. THE SHAPES AND COLORS ARE THEMATICALLY RELEVANT
Del Toro points out in the DVD commentary that scenes with Ofelia tend to have circles and curves and use warm colors, while scenes with Vidal and the war have more straight lines and use cold colors. Over the course of the film, the two opposites gradually intrude on one another.
11. THAT VICIOUS BOTTLE ATTACK COMES FROM AN INCIDENT IN DEL TORO'S LIFE
Del Toro and a friend were once in a fight during which his friend was beaten in the face with a bottle, and the detail that stuck in the director's memory was that the bottle didn't break. That scene is also based on a real occurrence in Spain, when a fascist smashed a citizen's face with the butt of a pistol and took his groceries, all because the man didn't take off his hat.
12. DOUG JONES LEARNED SPANISH TO PLAY THE FAUN
The Indiana-born actor, best known for working under heavy prosthetics and makeup, had worked with del Toro on Hellboy and Mimic and was the director's first choice to play the Faun and the Pale Man. The only problem: Jones didn't speak Spanish. Del Toro said they could dub his voice, but Jones wanted to give a full performance. Then del Toro said he could learn his Spanish lines phonetically, but Jones thought that would be harder to memorize than the actual words. Fortunately, he had five hours in the makeup chair every day, giving him plenty of time to practice. And then? Turns out it still wasn't good enough. Del Toro replaced Jones's voice with that of a Spanish theater actor, who was able to make his delivery match Jones's facial expressions and lip movements.
13. NEVER MIND THE (ENGLISH) TITLE, THAT ISN'T PAN
The faun is a mythological creature, half man and half goat, who represents nature (it's where the word "fauna" comes from) and is neutral toward humans. Pan is a specific Greek god, also goat-like, who's generally depicted as mischievous, harmful, and overly sexual—not a creature you'd be comfortable seeing earn the trust of a little girl. In Spanish, the film is called El Laberinto del Fauno, which translates to The Faun's Labyrinth. "Pan" was used for English-speaking audiences because that figure is more familiar than the faun, but you'll notice he's never called Pan in the film itself. "If he was Pan, the girl would be in deep sh*t," del Toro told one interviewer.
14. DEL TORO WROTE THE ENGLISH SUBTITLES HIMSELF
After being disappointed by the way the translators handled The Devil's Backbone ("subtitles for the thinking impaired"), the Mexican filmmaker, who speaks fluent English, did the job himself for Pan's Labyrinth. "I took about a month with a friend and an assistant working on them, measuring them, so that it doesn't feel like you're watching a subtitled film," he said.
Exposing the Malevolent Roots
I read this article while I was in the US over Halloween. Ironically I was in Disney's Magic Kingdom being subjected to a sickening dose of fairy glitter, pink tutus and seizure inducing LED wands.
A.J.O'Connell over at GeekDad.com does a wonderful job of reminding us that if you scrape away the glitter and cat hair you will find that the darker origins of fairy folklore are still being championed if you know where to look...
Fairies often come to mind around Halloween. After all, it seems like half the costumes in the stores come with wands and wings. But there’s another reason fairies might be on your mind this time of year. Fairies are terrifying. Or at least, they’ve been terrifying lately.
And let’s face it: fairies, at their mythological core, under all the sparkle we’ve covered them with since Victorian times, are frightening.
As kidnappers, they are a parent’s nightmare, because they can get your kid to leave you willingly, and maybe replace that child with a monster. As tricksters, they love a good joke; the more people get hurt, the funnier the joke is. As helpers, fairies are more like mob enforcers: yes, they will help you out, but then they own you. (God help you if you don’t leave a saucer of milk out for them overnight.)
Creators have always played with the darker side of fairies, and the humans who associate with them. Neil Gaiman included them in American Gods in 2000, Torchwood traumatized geek parents everywhere with a fairy episode in 2006, and remember that pressed fairy book Terry Jones and Brian Froud did in the ’90s?
Lately, though, there seems to be a lot more of them. This year (and last) has seen a run of scary fairies in fiction. It’s a phenomenon that’s happened across mediums: novels, comics, and television.
If you’re into horror, or if you just don’t want your small, fairy-obsessed child to stumble into something that might be too mature for them, here’s a round-up of five dark fairy-related properties that have come out in the last 12 months.
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell
What is it? TV mini series
Can your kids watch it? Sure, but parental guidance might be best
Fright factor: I give the fairy 8 out of 10 inept theoretical magicians
Hooray! The 2015 television adaptation of Suzanna Clarke’s 2004 novel of the same name is available on Amazon Prime! This book, set in England, during the war with Napoleon, follows two British magicians: Mr. Norrell, who taught himself magic from books, and Mr. Strange, who has a talent for intuitive magic.
The pair attempt to bring back English magic after a long hiatus; England used to be a very magical country, but magic disappeared after The Raven King, a medieval magician, vanished hundreds of years before. The two magicians are so different they can barely work together, and one of them – to bring back English magic – makes a Faustian bargain with one of the most magical creatures in British history: a fairy. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell features one of the most frightening fairies of all: The Man with the Thistledown Hair, played chillingly by Marc Warren (who will always be Mr. Teatime from Hogfather to me).
This guy is a big old bucket of nope, collecting humans he likes — mostly women — as if he werea Thomas Harris villain. He holds people hostage in his domain when they’re asleep, dominates their waking lives, and uses his magic to keep them from telling anyone about his control over them, cutting them off from loved ones. Even worse: he doesn’t even know he’s doing wrong. (As a fairy, he really does think cruelty is funny.) He is a textbook abuser.
If entitled, abusive behavior were personified and given magical powers, it would look like the Man with the Thistledown Hair. Even more frightening, however, is the way the humans who are not under his spell aid and abet him by not listening to his victims, and branding them insane.
The Hunt
What is it? Comic
Can your kids read it?Yes, if they’re older. It’s about as scary as Stranger Things.
Fright factor:7 out of 10 demogorgons
Also from Image, this story features Orla Roche, a young woman who can see monsters, which certainly seem to be fairies, although as far as I can see, they are never explicitly named as such, although the mythology certainly adds up. This comic explores the dark side of what it would be like to be able to talk to the fairies who live in the Wood. (Spoiler: it would not be fun.)
Orla, an Irish teen, is a talented artist. She also has a dark past, having found a creature sucking the soul out of a beloved family member when she was a child. She grows up as an at-risk child: getting lost in the wood, speaking to and drawing changelings and fairies, drawing the scorn of her classmates and worrying her family members. The Hunt, which started its run this past July, is a fascinating look into Irish mythology, and features changelings as dark, terrifying beings, and The Wood as an awful, alternate reality, a place that houses both fairies and the souls of the dead. It feels a little like an Irish version of Hellblazer, but without the Christian mythology.
Uprooted, by Naomi Novik
What is it?Novel
Can your kids read it?Totally. There’s one sex scene, but otherwise, it’s middle-grade and up.
Fright factor:2 out of 10 sentient trees
Speaking of terrifying forests, Naomi Novik, best known for her Temeraire novels, won the Nebula, the Locus and the Mythopoeic Awards this year for her standalone 2015 novel Uprooted. The awards were totally deserved.
This book, which reads like a realistic Slavic fairy tale, is less about individual fairies and more about a population’s battle with a fairy wood. The enchanted forest, called The Wood, which harbors strange, dangerous, treelike creatures. Every 10 years, the village at the edge of the wood holds a lottery, and one of the girls is taken and brought to a nearby wizard’s tower. No one knows what happens to them.
Agnieszka, an awkward young woman, fears the lottery, because only exceptional girls are taken, and her best friend is beautiful, noble and talented. That’s as much as I can write without spoiling anything. Do yourself a favor and read this one. Although the template for this book is a standard fairy tale, it’s originally written, and it’s a beautiful meditation on identity, strength, power, and friendship.
The Hidden People, by Alison Littlewood
What is it?Novel
Can your kids read it? Probably most appropriate for high school and up
Fright factor:9 out of 10 superstitious villagers
In Victorian London, Albert, a gentleman, learns his cousin Lizzie has been murdered by her husband. Her husband, believing that Lizzie had been stolen by the fairies, burned her alive. Although Albert only met Lizzie once, years before, he is outraged, and hurries to her village to arrange a funeral and seek justice.
He soon realizes the villagers don’t think a crime was committed. Lizzie lived near a barrow fairies were rumored to live in, and Albert starts seeing things he can’t explain. Unable to extricate himself from the crime, Albert gets deep into the details of Lizzie’s life, until his wife finally comes to town to collect him. This book, which comes out on Nov. 1, is disturbing on several counts — as an examination of domestic violence, as a fairy tale, or as a story of obsession.
Although the possible fairies are scary, the people are probably the scariest things in this book. Albert himself is frightening: a rich boy who had a crush on his poor cousin but didn’t marry her, and he throws himself into his self-ordained quest in the most invasive way possible.
I Hate FairyLand, by Skottie Young
What is it: Comic
Can your kids read it? Oh HELL no.
Fright factor: 4 of 10 murdered anthropomorphic narrators
Yep, this looks like something a little kid might see and want. But let me tell you that no, it is not for children. Not even a little. But you know who it is for? You.
I Hate FairyLand (which began last year, and is now in its third arc) is the story of Gert, a little girl who gets sucked into FairyLand. She is greeted by the queen of the fairies, provided with a guide and a clue, and sent off on a magical, wondrous quest to find the key back to the real world using nothing but her good heart and her wits. Except that doesn’t work so well, and she gets stuck there for 30 years. In a child’s body. Eating nothing but candy. And the world she lives in won’t even let her swear about it.
So – what else is a girl to do? – she murders her way through her quest. That’s not even a spoiler, guys. That’s basically the first few pages of the first issue. I Hate FairyLand is what happens when you mash Alice in Wonderland up with The Itchy & Scratchy Show. Liked Ren & Stimpy and MTV’s Oddities? You’ll like this. Seriously, though, hide it from your kids. Also, Image came out with a related coloring book.
(Hide that as well.)
Conan Doyle Beyond Sherlock, From Fairies to Atrocities
Although I could never compare myself to such an iconic great as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, we do share a commonality that some readers may also sympathise with. It may also be considered a warning to those who have a fleeting interest in the Occult but hold good careers in more sterile and blinkered disciplines. Like myself, Doyle's professional reputation took a major hit once it became apparent he had an interest in the paranormal and more importantly, fairies.
This great article by Daryl Worthington reveals there is more to Doyle than Sherlock...
With his most well-known creation Sherlock Holmes currently in vogue, the subject of movies and TV series on both sides of the Atlantic, it is easy to forget just how diverse the life and works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle really were.
From books defending spiritualism to an expose on Belgian atrocities in the Congo, Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle was a hugely fascinating figure whose broad oeuvre reflected his fascinating life. He befriended and then acrimoniously fell out with the legendary illusionist Harry Houdini over the validity of spiritualism; became embroiled in solving a real life murder mystery, and was until recently believed to have been involved in one of the great archaeological hoaxes of the twentieth century.
Conan Doyle was born in Edinburgh, Scotland on 22nd May, 1859. Doyle’s family were affluent, strict Irish Catholics. His father was a respected artist whose achievements had ultimately been thwarted time and again by alcoholism. His mother was a well educated woman with a passion for reading. She would prove hugely influential in Conan Doyle’s life, as he wrote in his biography: “In my early childhood, as far as I can remember anything at all, the vivid stories she would tell me stand out so clearly that they obscure the real facts of my life.”
In 1876 Doyle embarked on a medical degree at the University of Edinburgh. It was here that the youngster wrote and had published his first short stories, in many ways reflecting a balance between practical scientific study and fantasy that would come to define his work.
The Sherlock Holmes character first appeared in 1887’s A Study in Scarlet, published in Beeton’s Christmas Annual. Holmes was partly based on Dr. Joseph Bell, one of Doyle’s lecturers who impressed him with his intense attention to detail, a trait clearly reflected in the character. Beyond Holmes however, Doyle’s medical background is also reflected in Round the Red Lamp and the Stark-Munro Letters; the latter a novel depicting the live of a young medical graduate in nineteenth century England, the former a collection of short stories on the trials and traumas of the medical profession.
Alongside fiction, Doyle engaged with highly controversial issues of the day. Inspired by “a burning indignation”, he wrote the The Crime of the Congo in just eight days in 1909. Dealing with the atrocities taking place in the Congo on behalf of Belgian King Leopold II, the powerful book included graphic portrayals of violence and is littered with horrific photos of mutilated victims. Not satisfied with the publication of his written description of the horrors in the Congo, Doyle used his fame to lobby world leaders such as Kaiser Wilhelm and Theodore Roosevelt.
Doyle’s work straddles the line between the factual and the fantastical. His groundbreaking science fiction novel The Lost World tells the story of a group of explorers discovering a South American plateau where prehistoric animals survive. Although an adventure story, it is littered with references to real prehistoric creatures such as dinosaurs and hominids. It’s a book which engages with the idea of evolution at a time it was still considered cutting edge, and shows Doyle’s own interest in the sciences.
Towards the end of his life Doyle became fascinated with the mystical and the occult, unveiling another, perhaps totally unexpected facet to this complicated individual. He fell out with Houdini following the illusionist’s campaign to debunk Spiritualism, Doyle having spent much of the 1920s writing books championing Spiritualist beliefs. In 1922, Doyle wrote The Coming of the Fairies, a book which promoted the Cottingley Fairies photographs. Opinion was divided at the time as to whether the images of two girls playing with fairies were a hoax (the girls finally admitted in the 1980s that the images had indeed been faked), and for many, Doyle’s passionate championing of the fairies did long term damage to his literary reputation.
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle will likely always be best remembered for his most recognised character, the deerstalker and pipe bearing Sherlock Holmes. By looking at his other works however, an image of a deeply complicated, fascinating individual emerges.
Laughter from the Underworld
I thought I'd share this interesting article from The Politic which draws together the recent spate of clown sightings and the connections with fairy folklore. Do you likes balloons Johnny?
On Saturday night, a student shared a photo of two clowns on the Facebook page “Overheard at Yale.” The figures, covered in dark face paint and lit by a nearby street lamp, stared straight at the camera, or maybe at the person behind it. This sighting, the first at Yale, adds New Haven to the growing list of cities that have experienced clown sightings, a nervous phenomenon that has taken the nation by storm. In other words, the Clownpocalypse is here.
Like most horror stories, this one began in a small southern town and features an unassuming little boy. In late August, the son of Donna Arnold reported that he had spotted two clowns—one in red and one in black—outside his apartment complex in Greenville County, South Carolina, and claimed that there were luring him into the woods. Since then, hundreds of new reports have appeared in numerous states, including Pennsylvania, Maryland, Georgia, and Texas, describing clowns engaged in a variety of unnerving activities, from standing on the roadside during the darkest hours of the night, to chasing children.
The significance of this story doesn’t just come from the momentum with which clown sightings have taken hold. The curious features of these incidents, particularly the characterizations of clowns as insidious creatures, the targeting of young children, and the largely non-violent methods of terror have strong roots in the history of clowns and in Western society itself.
Though historian Beryl Hugill is able to locate the vague form of the clown in societies as early as Ancient Greece, the roots of the modern clown stem most strongly from the Italian Renaissance and the production of a theatre genre known as “commedia dell’arte.” It is there that the Harlequinn character first made its appearance. Benjamin Radford, author of “Bad Clowns,” elaborates that the mask cladded, diamond-pattern wearing character came from the sinister veins of the religious underworld. The clown was not so humorous after all. Rather, its original identity was derived from the cackles of “lost souls”—dead people who were unable to transition to the afterlife. These lost souls would turn into a “troupe of comic demons” described as flying and dancing in the air; essentially, they were fairies.
When I use the term fairy, I’m not talking about Tinkerbell. Rather, I am referring to the mythical creatures whose origin, legend argues, was a rebellious group of angels banished by God from Heaven. The is not a story of the Devil or Satan: The fairies were not sent all the way down, but kept in a limbo between heaven and hell.
In its ancient origin, the insidious character of the clown asserts itself. Psychologists have attempted to explain “coulrophobia,” the fear of clowns, by stating that the proportions of the features, combined with the gaudy use of color, triggers an unsettling visual sensation. But the fact that coulrophobia has not been clinically listed as a phobia, but remains the lingo of pop culture suggests that the majority of people aren’t actually scared of clowns. Rather, the unsettling sense generated by clowns is derived from the acknowledgement that—despite appearances—there is a capacity, a potential for harm. The limbo of the fairies, stuck between good and bad, like the laughter of the demon, is the tension that lies beneath our fear of clowns. The thick paint that masks the features of the clown forces us to question what is underneath.
In this way, the non-violent nature of clown sightings can be contextualized. While it is very likely that many of the people dressing up as clowns are simple pranksters, and therefore do not hold criminal intentions, it is still key to note that most reports show that these clowns do not present weapons, let alone use them. Radford argues that the leering clown can be more fearful than the killer clown, as once the act of violence is committed the critical tension breaks. The dynamics of uncertainty are no longer present in the equation; the killer clown is no more fearful than that of the generic murderer.
One of the first times that the term “Killer Clown” was used was in reference to John Wayne Gacy Jr. Gacy, who often used to work as “ Pogo the Clown,” sexually assaulted and murdered 33 teenage boys in Illinois in the 1970s. His main tactic was deception. Instances like the Gacy case create the sense that it is legitimate to question the nature of the clown; they validate the subconscious tension. Depictions of clowns in pop culture also add to the impression that clowns are dangerous: the Joker from Batman, Pennywise in “It” and the chilling clown in Steven Spielberg’s Poltergeist.
The recent clown sightings have been accelerated by social media. Trends are determined almost exclusively by circulation on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. In this way, the recent clown sightings are a trend ultimately not so distinctive from other internet fads like the dab, Arthur memes and pictures of avocado toast. The Clownpocalypse is nothing new.
But more curious is why this trend is happening right now, at this particular moment. The last time a similar event occurred was in France and England in 2013 where, similarly, stalking clowns were reported. Mary Valle of The Guardian argues that public hysteria is produced in moments of social nervousness. The societal unease results in people finding comfort in such acts, in order to materialize a hysteria they can only feel. Valle concludes by arguing that the social anxiety produced by the American election, the antics of Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton, have resulted in what she refers to as a “real-time trauma play.”
In the fertile ground of the Internet, the seeds of another movement have been planted: #ClownLivesMatter. A number of day-job clowns have taken to social media to help people realize the effects these depictions of clowns are having on their livelihoods. Marches and rallies have been organized for the near future.
Stephen King, the creator of the infamous Pennywise, tweeted in his support: “Hey guys,” he wrote “time to cool the clown hysteria—most of em are good, cheer up the kiddies, make people laugh.” We can only hope he’s right. After all, his twitter archive also includes: “I have a button that says CAN’T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME. Probably not true. But what if it was? What if they’re just waiting?”
What if they’re just waiting.
Exploring The Upside Down
Magical realms exist in every culture, places inhabited by otherworldly beings where space and time stands still. The prolific accounts of these worlds throughout history begs the question, do they exist and if so where are the entrances to these alternate dimensions or underworlds? Fans of the recent Netflix series 'Stranger Things' will relate to the concept of 'the upside down', a mirror of our own world but dark and inhabited by demons.
This great article from Mysterious Worlds discusses such places. It has always made me wonder why these mystical realms appear easier to get to than to get back from. And even if you do return from your brief visit to find that 7 years have passed in a matter of minutes, what guarantee is there that you've returned to the right dimension?
Mysterious Worlds
Writing in his recent work, Sky Shamans of Mongolia, Kevin Turner tells us that the three worlds or realms of the Mongolian Darkhad shaman don’t consist of a traditional upper, middle and lower world but are instead overlapping dimensional realities, more in line with a holographic outlook. These places are populated by deities, spirits and ancestors. In Irish lore it is the land of Tir na Nog where a race of supernatural beings is said to reside, although this otherworld adapts itself to incorporate the afterlife, the Summerland of Wicca, as well as shamanic realms according to other interpretations.
Often these dimensions are seen to be accessed across an ocean, leading many to associate Tir na Nog with the mythical island of Hy-Brazil, an island that was said to rise from the sea every seven years and which was populated by a race of advanced antediluvian beings.
However, the realm of fairy or the crypto-terrestrial is more often encountered through places considered sacred or having an alignment of some kind in relation to auspicious days in the yearly cycle, such as solstices, equinoxes and new moons. In many legends passed down from oral traditions the liminal moments at dusk, between sunset and moonrise, are when the ethereal forms of these beings are best seen.
Trapped in Magical Realms
Perhaps one of the most famous anecdotes relating to this is that of the Rev Robert Kirk who was a Scottish scholar and clergyman. His book The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies was published in 1691 and collected many instances of encounters with these elemental creatures and what a person could do to either avoid or come in contact with them.
At this time the Inquisition was still in full force across Europe so Kirk’s interest in what some saw as Demonic entities put him at odds with many of his religious colleagues. Some, in fact, speculated that Kirk himself might be a changeling sent by the devil in order to corrupt the faith of his parishioners and to lead them back to ancient pagan ways. Kirk was also a seventh son which lent him an aura of the otherworldly, as this was a particular sign of association with second sight and affiliation with the fairy folk.
One summer evening, Kirk, while out walking, collapsed and died upon a fairy hill. Or so it seemed.
In the days following his funeral, a cousin of Kirk’s had a strange dream in which the reverend pleaded with him to rescue him from fairyland. Kirk told his cousin in the dream that he was not dead at all but was in a magical swoon caused by his supernatural captors.
Kirk had promised his cousin that he would be able to appear for just one moment at the baptism of his child and when this occurred his cousin was to throw a ceremonial knife over his apparition. This would have the effect of releasing Kirk from the fairies’ spell.
At the baptism it is said that when Reverend Kirk appeared his cousin was so shocked that he forgot the instructions about the knife and Kirk then vanished, doomed to live in fairyland for eternity.
Altered Time and Space
This concept of eternity and that time can run faster or slower in these realms has been part of fairy myth for thousands of years. The Japanese legend of Urashima Taro is a good example. In this story a fisherman visits the supernatural undersea kingdom of Ryugu-jo and discovers that the three days he spent there had been three hundred years in his homeland.
Ryugu-jo has some specific architectural symbolism relating to the earth’s cycle in that each side of the kingdom was said to be a different season. Perhaps we are seeing an association with the solstices and equinoxes once again, which in themselves have a history of being doorways for the legendary beings like the fairies and various elementals to appear through.
The elves and fairies of Scotland and Ireland, for example, would use certain magical doorways or stone circles in which to appear depending upon the time of the year. Each magical doorway was associated with a particular season.
There is a potential connection to the Heb Sed shamanic rituals of ancient Egypt in this context as each ceremonial area would be used once then a new structure would be constructed for the following festival.
The communication with ‘star gods,’ along with offerings in return for wisdom also has parallels to folkloric interactions with the Sidhe (Irish and Scottish fairy folk) or energetic forms of various cultures. Sometimes, a ritual site would have to be left for a time in order to allow its energy to replenish and so the gods could be reached again in further ceremonies.
Another interesting connection is how the Pharaoh would be considered dead but still living during this ritual; the priests would consider him outside of time and having travelled to the Duat, the immaterial realm of spirit.
The Dreamtime
The term ‘time outside of time’ is also one of the popular translations of the Australian Aboriginal Dreamtime. Specifically, this description is better understood as ‘eternal, uncreated’ and refers to a dimension where all mythical heroes and ancestors exist and have always existed. Although there are many regional differences, all of the connotations relate to an immaterial, timeless place outside of the physical world.
Indeed, there are mythical fairy-like mediators in Aboriginal lore called the Mimi who are said to have taught the first Aboriginal tribes many skills. The Mimi were said to be so thin that a strong wind might break them and they could be contacted by approaching sacred stones or mountains in the correct manner. These places were doorways to an immaterial dimension that existed outside of the human world.
Often the Mimi would play tricks on humans if they or their magic places were not respected. There was a type of shamanistic process for contacting the Mimi properly and this was usually carried out by ‘Men of High Degree’ who were the shaman of the aboriginal tribes. In his ground-breaking work, Aboriginal Men of High Degree, A.P. Elkin describes these men as “supernormal, usually super-sensory, and are derived from two sources: first, the cult-heroes of the craft-sky and totemic heroes, spirits and ghosts, who may be all the one; second, the long line and hierarchy or order of medicine men, which leads back to the same heroes of the dreamtime.”
However, the role of women in mediating with the Mimi was also extremely important. There were certain tasks and requests that could only be asked by a woman and where the context of ‘high degree’ was outranked. Writing in Wise Women of the Dreamtime Johanna Lambert explains, “That which is subtle, ambiguous, interconnected, intangible and beyond reason or logic emerges from the realm of the Universal Feminine and is the basis of what has been called “magic or “the occult”.
The Magic Arrow
The Mimi, like fairies and elementals in all other cultures, were unpredictable and could punish a human as often as rewarding them. They were thought to steal food, trip up unsuspecting travellers, and even shoot magic darts—which is a tantalising connection to many shamanistic practices.
The magical arrow is also associated with Abaris the Hyperborean, a figure said to have emerged from a mythical land “beyond the north wind”. Abaris was said to be able to commune with spirits, heal the sick and travel through the air on a magic arrow. Other connections to Apollo and Pythagoras hint at the shamanistic journeying technique of incubation, best recently described by Peter Kingsley in his work, In the Dark Places of Wisdom.
When we look past the particular cultural interpretations, which change depending upon religious systems and societal developments, what we find beneath the many different fairy and shamanistic encounters are strong hints of a universal otherworldly experience. And although we find many accounts of strange lands with the help of fairies and spirits, it’s worth remembering that sometimes it is also at their insistence!
By David Halpin
References
Kevin Turner. ‘Sky Shamans of Mongolia’. Published by North Atlantic Books (April 12, 2016) P.71.
Hayao Kawaii. ‘Dreams, Myths and Fairy Tales in Japan’. Published by Daimon Verlag (Jan. 1 1995). p. 107.
A.P. Elkin. ‘Aboriginal Men of High Degree: Initiation and Sorcery in the World's Oldest Tradition’. Published by Inner Traditions; Original ed. edition (Nov. 1 1993). p 38.
K. Langloh Parker/ By Johanna Lambert, ed. ‘Wise Women of the Dreamtime: Aboriginal Tales of the Ancestral Powers’ Published by Park Street Press; Original ed. edition (July 1 1993). P. 89.
Scottish Mansion for sale that screams del Toro!
This newspaper article from the Scotsman has all the key ingredients for a great Guillermo del Toro movie. On the Isle of Bute you will find for sale a former residential school for children escaping a tuberculosis and rickets outbreak in Glasgow in the 40s which is said to be infested with fairies. My mind instinctively thought of 'The Devils Backbone', 'The Orphanage' and 'Don't be afraid of the Dark', all GDT classics that draw from childhood, ghosts, infant illness and of course, fairies.
The Southpark Estate is on the market for a mere £825000! Anyone with a spare million please drop me an e-mail and in return I'll write a bleak Scottish horror about childhood discovery and the unseely wee folk who haunt the grounds of Southpark (and I'll try and catch one or two while I'm at it).
A STUNNING Victorian estate believed to be full of fairies has been put on the market for £825,000. Southpark - in the quaint village of Ascog on the Isle of Bute - is proudly surrounded by 3.8 acres of greenery and offers breathtaking views of the Firth of Clyde.
In the 1940’s the B listed property became a residential school for children escaping a tuberculosis and rickets outbreak in Glasgow. To this day the original coat hooks, shoe cubby holes and cloakrooms are still in place. During their stay the children started a rumour which still persists today - that the house is infested with fairies. It is said that the rumour began when children began noting the way the house sparkled in moonlight reflected onto it from the sea. Current owner Margaret Morrison - who has lived at the estate for nine years - said she frequently gets visited by former school children of the school who share their magical memories of Southpark.
She said: “We are visited by many former pupils, who have such happy memories of coming to school here. “For them it was a chance to escape the overcrowding and difficult conditions in Glasgow. “It’s funny, but many of them tell the same story - about believing the house was full of fairies because of the way it ‘twinkled’ at night thanks to the way the light bounces off the water and hits the stones. “It’s always been a magical place and I feel glad to be part of it.”
Along with five bedrooms, five bathrooms and three reception rooms, the property even comes with its own butler pantry. And if that wasn’t enough, a cottage and two flats in the former Coach House are also included in the offers over £825,000 price tag. The one-of-a-kind residence, managed by estate agents Strutt and Parker, also boast pristine original features such as marble fireplaces, cornicing and multiple bay windows.
Margaret and her husband David have reluctantly put the estate, designed and built by esteemed Scots civil engineer Robert Thom, on the market for health reasons.
The added: “The island is very special, a beautiful place to live. I could sit for hours watching the cruise ships sailing up the Firth - and the garden is very peaceful. “Southpark is a special place - a very welcoming house, which has meant a lot to so any people. “It was certainly built with love and over the years since, it has been carefully looked after and beautifully preserved, even when it was a school. ”Bute is not just an island it is a way of life and to walk along and be smiled at or greeted by almost everyone is wonderful.” The main town of Rothesay is around three miles away from Southpark with a frequent ferry service which runs to Wemyss Bay - where rail links to Glasgow can be found. Ascog is mainly a residential area but has several historic buildings including Ascog House, Ascog Hall, and the Italianate style Balmory Hall.
Jordskott Season 2 Announced
Fans of the dark Swedish fairy folklore masterpiece 'Jordskott' will be pleased to hear that Palladium is in development for a second season. Henrik Bjorn, if you're reading this I'm kneeling in front of my Mac as I write this begging for a production role!
Sony Pictures Television has taken a minority stake in Swedish production company Palladium Fiction, which is led by the creators of mystery-noir drama “Jordskott,” Henrik Bjorn, Filip Hammarstrom and Johan Rudolphie. Palladium will focus on high-end international dramas, with SPT distributing around the globe.
Andrea Wong, president, international production, SPT, said: “Palladium is a great complement to our growing portfolio of high-quality drama production companies. Collectively, Henrik, Filip and Johan have a distinctive voice that is edgy, thought-provoking and entertaining. Their talents are evident in their ambitious development slate and we look forward to helping them build on their success.”
Palladium is in development on a second season of “Jordskott” with Swedish broadcaster SVT. They have three other projects in development, including a new project in partnership with Jimmy Desmarais, a producer on high-profile French dramas “The Returned” and “The Last Panthers.”
Palladium, which is headquartered in Solna, Sweden, was founded in 2014 by Bjorn, Hammarstrom, Rudolphie, and the Swedish media company Strange-Dahl Jihde och Bjorn AB. “Jordskott,” its best-known show, received the Kristallen award for best TV drama last year.
In a statement, Hammarstrom said: “Sony is outstanding creatively and makes a fantastic business partner with a strong international production and distribution network that will help us maximise opportunities as we expand our global reach.”
Bjorn added: “This is a really exciting time for original quality drama. We are driven by our love of storytelling and we hand-pick projects close to our heart. This collaboration with Sony gives us the tools to create compelling stories for viewers worldwide.”
The Mummified Fairy Workshop Review
The past weekend will remain memorable for two momentous reasons. I will always remember that when the UK decided to leave the EU I was in Germany giving my first overseas workshop.
I can honestly say that it is quite difficult to convey my disappointment at leaving the EU. Although my political stance has always dressed to the right I voted to remain as I was thinking about the impact of leaving for the future generations, namely my children. It was a sad day but I have optimism in my heart and the room I was given at Hotel zum Zauberkabinett in Bad Heilbrunn echoed my positivity.
All of the rooms at the hotel were themed on tarot cards from the major arcana and I had been given The Sun. This card symbolises finding sense behind chaos, attaining a new levels of insight, having an intellectual breakthrough and getting to the heart of the matter. Ultimately all the things I hope to do in the coming months and years in the shadow of Brexit. But most of all the card represents the most positive oracle in the tarot deck and I took this as a good omen of the times ahead.
After a delayed flight due the closure of Belgian airspace, Alex Roemer, long time friend and proprietor of Hotel zum Zauberkabinett took me for a much welcomed beer and Bavarian meal in the scorching sun. Many ideas were hatched and secrets exchanged before we headed back to the hotel to prepare for the forthcoming weekend. This was to be my first Mummified Fairy Workshop for a foreign audience.
The motley crew of attendees started to arrive on Friday afternoon. A teacher, a larper, two magicians and Switzerland's top Jack Jersey impersonator (yes, I wondered who he was also!) arrived for what sounded like the start of a bad joke. After a wonderful meal on the terrace set in the wooded hills I started with an introduction and my lecture on the mummified fairy hoax.
Saturday started bright and breezy with an early breakfast and straight to the studio. Being creative can be surprisingly tiring if you're not used to it so I decided to crack on early to maximise my time with the group. I was told that everyone had some form of artistic ability and we made a great start.
The schedule roughly followed the DVD workshop I had produced a few years earlier with the help of Kickstarter and a few hundred loyal backers. The obvious benefit of this more personal workshop was the one-to-one tuition and the fact you didn't have to watch my hands for 3 hours, unlike the DVD. As all of the group had some form of interest in magic it's not surprising that by early afternoon the fairies had ended up with magnets implanted into their rib cages. The table was alive with jumping and spinning reanimated fairy corpses. After nearly seven hours of melting, painting and sticking we placed the fairies in the drying room and retired for a rest before the evening activities. Felix thrashed me thrice at Carcassonne so I decided to head to my room and drown my sorrows in even more post referendum pessimism.
Most Saturday nights Alex hosts a dinner and evening of magical entertainment. This has been running for 19 years and many of his 50000 plus audience members keep returning for more. The dinner takes place in his impressive magic room crammed with strange artefacts, antique illusions and a mirror where you may see the grim reaper materialise during the evening. Although the whole performance was in German I understood what was happening and after a few beers it didn't really matter anyway!
Sunday morning was spent adding the finishing touches to our desiccated monsters. Hair, wings and eyes added 'life' to the dead fairies and just before lunch we arranged our creations for their first group photo. The artistic talents of the group really shone through and Andreas created possibly the deadest looking dead fairy I had ever seen. The group exhibited excellent effort all round and I'm hoping that everyone who attended had a rewarding and memorable experience.
For an experimental first the workshop was a great success and everyone walked away with something horrific to perplex their family and friends. Due to the success, on the way to the airport Alex and I started our plans for another possible workshop in 2017 so if you're interested in taking part please e-mail me for details.
Thanks once again to Alex for being such an accommodating host and of course a personal thank you goes to Felix, Roman, Manuela, Andreas and Stefan for attending the weekend course.
The Birch
Without a doubt this is the best 4 minutes and 30 seconds of my week and it's only Tuesday. There's elements of Blair Witch and Pan's Labyrinth with a modern folklore Jordskott vibe in this excellent short from horror directors Ben Franklin & Anthony Melton. The Birch is a twisted slice of fantasy horror produced in partnership with Crypt TV.
A bullied schoolboy takes drastic measures against his tormenter, summoning an ancient being in the woods using a spellbound book passed down through the generations of his family. A gruesome revenge tale that paints a monstrous evil as a loyal, yet potentially unstable protector, this is the latest work from the team at Bloody Cuts.
Ancient tomes, ancient woodland spirits, vengeance and a satisfyingly gory conclusion. It's amazing what you can convey in 310 seconds, enjoy!
Lurkers of the Midsummer Woods
This excellent article from Patheos.com covers the darker side of fairy folklore, the side that seems to have been swept aside and replaced by fairy doors, glitter and tutus. For me the most interesting spirit covered is the Woodwose whose description bares a striking resemblance to the modern day Sasquatch and other associated hairy woodland cryptids.
Outside the Circle: The Bad Fairies Of Litha
Litha or Midsummer, a time of bonfires, mugwort, mythical beings, nights and days of mischief and love. The veil is thin. The Celts, the Norse and the Slavs believed that there were three ‘spirit nights’ in the year when magic ran amok and the Otherworld was near. The first was Halloween, the second was May Eve and the third was Midsummer Eve. All sorts of enchantments are in the air now and Spirits and Fairies abound. What follows here are some of them. These are not your good fairies but tricksters and darker spirits.
Will-o’-the-wisp
A will-o’-the-wisp, Medieval Latin: “foolish fire”, is an atmospheric ghost light seen by travellers at night, especially over bogs, swamps or marshes. It resembles a flickering lamp and is said to recede if approached, drawing travellers from the safe paths. The phenomenon is known by a variety of names, including jack-o’-lantern, friar’s lantern, hinkypunk, and hobby lantern in English folk belief, well attested in English folklore and in much of European folklore.
The names will-o’-the-wisp and jack-o’-lantern are explained in etiological folk-tales, recorded in many variant forms in Ireland, Scotland, England, Wales, Appalachia, and Newfoundland. In these tales, protagonists named either Will or Jack are doomed to haunt the marshes with a light for some misdeed.
In European folklore, these lights are believed to be spirits of the dead, fairies, or a variety of other supernatural beings which attempt to lead travelers to their demise.
Hinky-Punk
Its flame burning through the darkness guides unsuspecting travellers into swamps or over cliffs. Bands of them are often found at the site of Shipwrecks.
Another name for the Will-o’-Wisp, magical lights of European folklore.
Spunkies
Spunkie in the Scottish Highlands where it would take the form of a linkboy (a boy who carried a flaming torch to light the way for pedestrians in exchange for a fee), or else simply a light that always seemed to recede, in order to lead unwary travelers to their doom.The spunkie has also been blamed for shipwrecks at night after being spotted on land and mistaken for a harbor light. Other tales of Scottish folklore regard these mysterious lights as omens of death or the ghosts of once living human beings. They often appeared over lochs or on roads along which funeral processions were known to travel.
Pixies
Also related, the Pixy-light from Devon and Cornwall is most often associated with the Pixie who often has “pixie-led” travellers away from the safe and reliable route and into the bogs with glowing lights.
In Welsh folklore, it is said that the light is “fairy fire” held in the hand of a púca, or pwca, a small goblin-like fairy that mischievously leads lone travellers off the beaten path at night. As the traveller follows the púca through the marsh or bog, the fire is extinguished, leaving them lost.
Phooka
Phooka may refer to Púca, a creature of Celtic folklore or from the Old Irish poc, ‘a male goat’.
Puck was the goat-footed satyr made famous in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Often thought of as an animal spirit, some accounts believe it gets its name from Poc, meaning he-goat in Irish. In fact, Pooka is a changeling, and can take animal or human form.
The animal Pooka is usually jet black with fiery golden or red eyes. Some associate it with devil!
The mountains and hills are this creature’s domains. Depending on the part of Ireland you lived in, Pooka was thought to be either helpful or menacing. It has been known to help farmers for example, but it can also wreak havoc. Generally however, perceived wisdom holds that an encounter with Pooka is not considered propitious, as this fairy creature is a portent of oncoming doom. Known for its cunning and wile as well as lies and deception, Pooka’s archetype is trickster. It is also a fertility spirit since it has power to create or destroy, as well as ability of human speech, it is a gifted prophesier.
Woodwose
Wild men support coats of arms in the side panels of a portrait by Albrecht Dürer / Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons
The wild man (also wildman, or “wildman of the woods”, archaically woodwose or wodewose) is a mythical figure that appears in the artwork and literature of medieval Europe, comparable to the satyr or faun type in classical mythology and to Silvanus, the Roman god of the woodlands.
The defining characteristic of the figure is its “wildness”; from the 12th century they were consistently depicted as being covered with hair. Images of wild men appear in the carved and painted roof bosses where intersecting ogee vaults meet in the Canterbury Cathedral, in positions where one is also likely to encounter the Green Man.
Robin Goodfellow
In English folklore, Puck, sometimes known as Robin Goodfellow, is a domestic and nature sprite, demon, or fairy.
One of the most popular characters in English folklore of the last thousand years has been the faerie, goblin, devil or imp known by the name of Puck or Robin Goodfellow.
He’s been pictured like a brownie or a hobbit. In a 1785 painting by William Blake, he looks like Pan from Greek mythology. Robin Goodfellow is one of the faeries known as hobgoblins or just hobs. Hob is a short form for the name Robin or Robert (“the goblin named Robin”.) Robin itself was a medieval nickname for the devil. Robin Goodfellow was not only famous for shape-shifting and misleading travellers. He was also a helpful domestic sprite much like the brownies. He would clean houses and such in exchange for some cream or milk. If offered new clothes, he’d stop cleaning. There are stories of the Phouka and Pwca doing similar deeds.
Peg o’ Nell
Peg o’ Nell, the water spirit of the River Ribble, was once a young servant girl at the local Waddow Hall. Legend ~ Peg o’ Nell was said to have slipped through the icey water and drowned in the Ribble while fetching water on a frigid night. To punish those who failed to rescue her, came back every seven years to steal a victim. On Peg’s night, when the Ribble rises to snare a new victim, and, because she could be tricked by drowning some sort of animal, it was considered appropriate to make proprietary sacrifices of small birds or animals to the river spirit.
The water-spirit of the river Ribble in Lancashire. She was said to be the ghost of a servant at Waddow Hall.
Jenny Greenteeth
Jenny Greenteeth is a figure in English folklore. A river hag, similar to Peg Powler or a grindylow, she would pull children or the elderly into the water and drown them. She was often described as green-skinned, with long hair, and sharp teeth. She is called Jinny Greenteeth in Lancashire, but in Cheshire and Shropshire she is called Ginny Greenteeth, Jeannie Greenteeth, Wicked Jenny, or Peg o’ Nell.
A similar figure in Jamaican folklore is called the River Mumma (River Mother). She is said to live at the fountainhead of large rivers in Jamaica sitting on top of a rock, combing her long black hair with a gold comb. She usually appears at midday and she disappears if she observes anyone approaching. However, if an intruder sees her first and their eyes meet, terrible things will happen to the intruder.
In Ireland and Germany she appears as a beautiful woman in a white gown, and is called respectively Bean-Fionn and die Weisse Frau. Although her visage is changed, she is still the same dreaded Jenny Greenteeth, haunting river banks and dragging her victims to their untimely deaths. The moral of all Jenny Greenteeth stories is to stay away from rivers and lakes, and it is thought that she was the imagined creation of mothers who wanted to warn their children away from the water’s edge with frightening tales. Her stories may have also derived from duckweed, an aqueous plant that wraps its tendrils around one’s leg and traps them under water.
Oakmen
At this time of year, when the oak is the most powerful tree, spirits called oakmen guard it. These are the most widespread tree fairies in England. Beware, because they are fierce guardians of their trees and do not really like humans. They appear as forest dwarfs and offer food to passing mortals, but this always turns out to be poisonous fungi disguised by glamour, the fairy magic. They also guard all the forest animals, especially foxes, and punish those who harm them. The rain that gathers in their oak hollows has powerful healing qualities.
This is the season for other spirits too, the drinking kind. Elderflower champagne, Strawberry wine, Black currant mead and Heather ale. It is said the Picts brewed a legendary ale from heather, the recipe for which was a secret. Invading Norsemen tortured the guardians of the secret in order to obtain the recipe, but to no avail.
Fairies, demons, and ghosts: Shakespeare’s fascination with the supernatural
Although there was hostility towards witchcraft and sorcery well before the 16th century, it is in this time period where we see religious and legal punishment juxtaposed with the increasing use and enjoyment of special effects in plays to convey magic and the supernatural. Laws and statues against witchcraft were passed, the popularity of witch trials was beginning to rise, yet such an atmosphere did not discourage Shakespeare and other playwrights from incorporating otherworldly elements in their works. Early modern drama involved Fairy Kings and Queens, devils and demons, human magicians, minor fairies and sprites, and ghosts and apparitions, all with different levels of power. Depending on the play, a being might have a number of abilities and serve a number of different purposes — be it corrupting humans, serving masters, prophesying, or casting spells. Discover more about Shakespeare and the supernatural via the graphic below.
Fairies, witches, spirits and Shakespeare - a guide to the folklore of the Clydach Gorge
As my annual pilgrimage to The Legendary Llangolloen Fairy Festival fast approaches I thought it seemed fitting to include this great article by Claire Barrand taken from yesterday's Abergavenny Chronicle.
As someone who loves all things supernatural I was intent to discover what beautiful magical Wales, steeped in mystery and superstition has to offer in the way of local ghosts and folklore.
Walking my dog through the enchanting woods near my home in Maes Y Gwartha and along the path to Clydach Gorge, I imagine the trees whispering their secrets to me. Inspired to find out more, last week I met with official Welsh tourist guide Eifion Lloyd-Davies at Gellifelen tunnels for a guided tour through Clydach Gorge and sure enough he did not disappoint with his bygone tales of the mythical legends associated with the area.
The Gorge is an enchanting place, cutting deep through the rocks of the South Wales coalfield between Brynmawr and Gilwern and despite the current works on the A465 it is easy to lose yourself in its fairy-tale splendour.
Locals herald the story that Shakespeare himself so inspired by the mystical properties of the Gorge, wrote A Midsummer Night’s Dream here. Shakespeare in this, reflects the essence and beliefs of his era, and the superstition that dominated the widespread opinions in those times that the Gorge was the haunt of fairies, goblins and witches.
Wild and with nature in abundance, Britain’s oldest beech wood, which has survived some 14,000 years, hugs the side of the gorge forming the Cwm Clydach nature reserve. With over 400 species of fungi and rare plants birds and butterflies to be spotted here it is no wonder the site is protected for its inhabitants. Immense tracks of wild garlic leave a powerful scent in the air. There are 17 waterfalls, the most spectacular being the dramatic 60ft falls at Devil’s Bridge.
Devils Bridge is so named as the water has worn away a sinister image said to be the devils face himself into the rocks below. Legend has it that here in Cwm Pwca, a particular sort of goblin named “Pwca” existed. Mythological creatures, they were believed to have a menacing shapeshifting ability, usually beginning in the form of rabbits, horse, cat goat or dog but always black. Said to have the power to bring terrible fortune, people would be filled with dread if one crossed their path for fear that the “Pwca” would curse them.
As we strolled past the old railway station viewing ahead the lime kilns and beyond where it is said Peregrine falcons nest and certain trees grow here as only they can where the air is at its purest, Eifion related the story about some farm hands who were walking with their horse pulling a cart of straw one summers eve when it suddenly stopped and refused to walk another step. The men recalling an old lady walking past, and assuming she must have been a witch that had placed a curse on their horse, chased back after her cutting briar switches as they went, once finding her they viciously beat her until she bled, thus the horse was said to walk once again. The reason behind their brutality was the belief that a witch’s power could be released by drawing her blood by scratching her as quoted in Shakespeare, ‘Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch’.
Witches, were thought to brew evil concoctions in their cauldrons and here in the Gorge there were no shortage of the gwiddonod (witches) depicted as wicked old women who could cast curses over people and animals, ride broomsticks, tell fortunes and use charms to both heal and cause diseases.
Another Clydach witch was said to be that of Old Magw. A teacher employed at the Ironworks school in Clydach by the manager Edward Frere, Old Magw was reputed to be a vicious wicked woman with merciless means of dealing out the most severe punishments to children who were late for school or defiant. Widely feared by local folk she was reputed to curse your plants in the garden if you maddened her.
Another teacher reputedly a harsh tyrant at the ironworks school was a man called John Dawson who was reputed to have three pets that he kept close by his side - a black jackdaw, a cat and a welsh terrier. Disliked by many Dawson would walk daily from home and back to work across the mountain from Twyn Wenallt and one day, he just vanished.
Assumed that he had drowned in a nearby pond, locals in search of his body recovered a sack from the water with the three pets drowned inside, however he was never seen again. The apparition of a figure wearing “old fashioned clothing” and a hat that “dated back to the Seventeenth Century”, has been reported high up on Gilwern Hill near the old quarry pits, known locally as the Tyla. Could this be the ghost of John Dawson?
There is another story of a witch located in Clydach and her name was Molly Davies. Little is known about Old Molly but it is reputed that she had the power to make pigs stand on their heads!
Eifion explained to me that there was widespread belief that at certain times of the year folk witches met at midnight to steal and ride horses belonging to local people and stories of the animals being discovered perspiring and distressed in the morning were proof that witches had been riding them.
General belief was that branches from Elder or Mountain Ash trees woven around stable doors it would deter the witches and Elder was grown commonly in Wales at the entrance of farms to stop witches entering can found growing there to this can.
Elder has many associations with the fairy world in Celtic lands and there is also much natural magic associated with powers of Ash. The witch’s broom was traditionally made of an Ash staff, together with Birch twigs and Willow bindings.
People would customarily only cut elder branches with the permission of the tree and would first doff their caps to the tree and say, ‘Old Woman, give me some of thy wood and I will give thee some of mine when I grow into a tree’.
If this procedure was not adopted, ill-luck could befall. In some Welsh traditions, witches were even said to live inside Ash trees. The Ash tree has always been given mystical import and character, frequently being associated with healing and enchantment. In Celtic literature, there are many references to the Ash tree, but in particular it is associated with the Welsh Magician-God Gwyddion, who bears an Ash staff/wand, a symbol.
Amongst other magical healing powers that the Gorge held precious was the belief that hernias could be cured by splitting an ash tree and passing the afflicted person through the gap three times to make their hernia disappear. Children suffered a lot with hernias due to the heavy work they were subjected to at the ironworks and this practise would have been a regular event!
Over on the opposite side of the valley towards it is said that a wise man called Solomon lived. (below another fort named Tom Thumb’s Rock or King Arthur’s Chair). He was said to be able to cure animals, and as one farmer crossed the valley in desperation one day to find Solomon to tend his animal he found him already en-route to his farm as he also had the ability to see the future.
As we approached one of the earliest chapels in the area, Nazareth chapel (known as Cuckoo chapel) now privately owned, Eifion pointed out behind it on the mountain top stands Dynas rock – an iron age fort.
A spectral black dog ghost has been witnessed by many people following them down the hill from here. In Welsh folklore, the black dog is usually a night-time apparition, often said to be associated with the Devil or a Hellhound (Cwn Annwn). Its appearance was regarded as a warning of death. It is described to be larger than a normal dog, and often has large, glowing eyes. Black dogs are almost universally regarded as malevolent. The hounds of hell were said to be a pack of ghostly hounds lead out at night by the King of the Otherworld to hunt the souls of the damned. According to Welsh folklore, their growling is loudest when they are at a distance, and as they draw nearer, it grows softer and softer. In legend the hounds are sometimes accompanied by a fearsome hag called Mallt-y-Nos, "Matilda of the Night". Mallt-y-Nos drives the hounds onward with shrieks and wails, which some say are evil and malicious in nature. Apparently once a beautiful but wicked Norman aristocrat who loved hunting so much that she said, "If there is no hunting in heaven, I would rather not go!" She is said to have regretted making this wish, and now cries out in despair as she hunts forever in the night sky. It is not known if she has been seen in this area but no wonder the sighting of the black dog on more than one occasion would fill the locals with fear.
In Llanelli Church yard the ghost of Colonel Sanderson’s white dog was often seen. After his death and burial here, the dog was often pining at his master’s graveside, and so they placed a statue of the dog on the grave after his death. Shadows of the dog have been seen by passers-by at night and poachers coming down from the mountain would report their dog’s hackles going up and refusing to pass the grave yard.
Ghosts not surprisingly are a common feature of Clydach, and another mischievous spirit said to regularly haunt the area, came to take gates off the hinges at certain nights of the year! Spookily the phantom of a headless horseman has also been sighted many times galloping across Smart bridge.
Of course my story would not be complete without mentioning The Lonely Shepherd. As a teenager I had the perfect view from my home on Station Road in Gilwern and I would gape at the rock on the opposite mountain in awe of this legend.
According to local myth, a farmer at Ty-lsaf farm was so cruel to his wife that she threw herself into the River Usk and drowned. For his sin, the husband was turned into a pillar of stone (Lonely Shepherd), but every year on Midsummer’s Eve, he is granted the ability to go down to the banks of the Usk to search for his wife, calling her name - in vain. By next morning he has always returned to his lonely place. It was a local custom to white-wash the stone so that it could easily be seen when it walked on Midsummer’s Eve.
I am certain the Ironworks in Clydach (pictured) must also boast numerous ghosts of employees disfigured or killed here in their duty as the Frere family hired 1350 workers, many of them only children who would have worked here and died at a young age in the 1800s. Now a place of heritage it remains an impressive relic of long-gone times, but I wonder if the spirits and souls that lived and died are still amid us and how many more accounts would they tell if they could?
Legends and folklores provide a greater and deeper insight to life and living, as even despite the various accounts we may hear and the parallels to other folk tales, they are quite simply the legacy left to us by our resident ancestors as a connection to the beliefs, common values and morals that they held as demonstrated in these compelling stories.
For tales such as these to have been passed down from bygone eras illustrates the importance and wisdom of folklore. I feel compelled to share these mystical stories with you and would equally be keen to hear more! Let’s keep them thriving as a gift to our future generations.