Draugr

Draugr in Dublin City, a graphic novel/comic released by Irish artist Gerry Hunt in 2012, tells the story of a reincarnated Viking (Draugr is an old Viking term for a resurrected warrior) who reawakens when his grave is looted by some Dublin locals. The avenging Viking then goes on the rampage to recover his possessions but finds himself increasingly infuriated by modern additions to the city skyline, which include The Spire, Liberty Hall, and the new €380m National Conference Centre on George’s Quay.

Hunt, originally a professional architect (for 25 years) moved to political cartoons and then comics much later in his career (in the 1980s), founding ‘Dublin Comics’ in 2005 to publish his most well-known works. Draugr in Dublin City appears to have been quite a significant creative shift for Hunt, who’s prior work up to that point was very much centred around contemporary Dublin City settings and action. In that regard, there’s a lovely quote in a review from Ian Keogh (The Slings and Arrows Graphic Novel Review site) who describes the effect as “a shock to the system, like seeing the Walking Dead invade Coronation Street”.

A 2010 interview with the Irish Independent reveals some of the rationale behind that creative shift. In the article, Hunt (who was 74 at the time) admitted that it was a day spent taking pictures around Dublin that inspired the actions of his Viking. Clearly, what he saw offended his architectural values.

“I just thought The Spire, that has to go; and I’ve hated the top of Liberty Hall for years. It’s like a bloody accordion you would squeeze in and out. The new Conference Centre isn’t big enough either, with too much contrast between the stone and the glass. Mind you, I had my Viking Draugr borrow a few panes to make a paraglider,” he said.

I haven’t been able to get a copy of ‘Draugr’ so I can’t really comment on the quality of the book (although the reviews are very positive). That said, I get the impression Hunt was very much an innovator and a creative leader in his day. I have to admit, I’m really damn impressed  with the drive of a 74 year-old artist who took on an opponent he couldn’t possibly hope to defeat (the Dublin Skyline) and then thrashed it so effectively in his own way.

Dead Men Standing

One thread that occasionally raises its head throughout Irish mythology is the motif associated with the burial process of some  (a word often mistranslated as ‘king’ but more accurately translated as ‘chieftain’) or mythological celebrities, where the corpse is bound upright or interred in the standing position, usually in defiance of an enemy or rival population group.

The early and medieval Irish literature contains several references in this regard but the most famous is probably linked to that of Cú Chulainn who, in a final act of defiance, ties himself to a standing stone to die on his feet. Facing his enemies, he remains upright for three days after he dies as they’re too terrified to come close (clearly, nobody thought of throwing a stone!).

Another celebrity associated with upright burials was Laoghaire (son of the infamous Niall). Famous for his hostile interactions with Saint Pat, Laoighaire is recorded (by Tíreachán) as being buried on the ridges of Tara, placed upright and facing south in defiance of the Leinster tribes. This follows somewhat in his father’s footsteps, given that Neill’s body was also said to have been held aloft by his tuath as a good-luck token when heading off to battle.

Early Irish literature has a few other references to the bodies of chieftains and heroes being buried upright and although there is a possibility that might have reflected some kind of burial ritual linked to the cult of warriors, it’s very much a literary motif rather than a historical one. As a result, you really have to be careful with its interpretation.

Forthcoming Production

This is a brief update on books that are planned /anticipated for release over the next 3-12 months. There’s further detail available in the September newsletter (Vóg) but I’m sure there’s something in the list below for everyone.

Confirmed Releases:

FIONN: The Betrayal (book six in the Fionn mac Cumhaill Series)

Although it’s still unclear whether this will the final book in the series or not, this follow up to ‘FIONN: The Tightening Trail’ will be available in March/April 2025 (and, hopefully, available free to newsletter supporters for Christmas). There will be A LOT of plot resolutions and revelations in this book.

Potential Releases:

At least one of the following will be released in 2025.

(1) Liath Luachra: The Hungry People (LL5)

The follow up to ‘Liath Luachra: The Metal Men’, this covers Liath Luachra’s deepening relationship with Bodhmhall and her conflict with new and existing enemies.

(2) Liath Luachra: The Quiet One

Another stand-alone novel, this follows on from ‘Liath Luachra: The Great Wild‘ and details another chilling adventure of the young warrior woman before she joins Bressal and Na Cinéaltaí.

(3) ‘Irish Mythology’ 101

‘Irish Mythology’ 101 essentially outlines the fundamentals of how ‘mythology’ works and how you can make sense of it /use it in contemporary life. It’s very much based on the cultural parameters within which I work and operate on a personal basis.

(4) Beara Series

A new adventure from Ireland’s greatest mythological detective (Muiris O’Súilleabháin ) as he deals with the double threat of a murderer and a dangerous banshee.

(5) The Irish Battle Trilogy

A trilogy of books on a famous Irish battle and the somewhat insane characters who took part in it. This is currently the lowest on my list of priorities.

Who was Fiacail mac Codhna

Fiacail mac Codhna is a swaggering and irrepressible warrior from the Fionn mac Cumhaill Series, based on the original Fenian narratives. Handsome, charming, and shrewdly strategic in battle, Fiacail’s potential for tribal greatness is undermined only by an over-sexed libido and a strong weakness for women, particularly where it relates to Bodhmhall ua Baoiscne, sometimes – but not always – portrayed as the aunt of Fionn mac Cumhaill.

Previously bonded to Bodhmhall, Fiacail’s tomcat behaviour eventually led to the dissolution of their relationship, something he still regrets many years later.

Fiacail mac Codhna’s quite a lot of fun as a character. He can be charmingly crass at times – particularly where it relates to sex – but his humour and genuine attraction to Bodhmhall means he’s a credible third player in the love triangle with Bodhmhall and Liath Luachra. His bawdy humour and blunt demeanour, meanwhile, offers welcome relief from some of the more serious and intellectual characters in the series.

When not chasing women, Fiacail likes long walks in the mornings (usually naked), having conversations with Great Father Sun. Much of this involves trying to convince Father Sun not to cause the end of the world but there’s also the occasional attempt to negotiate the gift of a pony.

Fiacail turns up on several occasions over the course of the original Fenian narratives, usually as a kind of foster father/advisor to the young Fionn mac Cumhaill. In some of the manuscripts however, he’s referred to as a ‘reaver’.

In modern Irish, ‘fiacail’ is actually the word for ‘tooth’ so it seems an unusual name for a character. Sadly, the name is so old even the Fenian narratives in the original manuscripts offer little explanation for its origin. As a result, I had to come up with own rationale

Goll mac Morna

Military leader of Clann Morna (not the chieftain), Goll mac Morna takes on a much larger role in Fionn mac Cumhaill’s life as the core Fenian narrative progresses.

Interestingly, you rarely see much about Goll from the English web content publishers (generally, because they don’t really understand how Gaelic culture works in the Fenian narratives) but Goll is actually quite the fascinating character when you get to know him.

All the same, you still wouldn’t want to meet him alone on a dark night.

An Irish ‘Mythology’ Test

Irish (and other) cultural stories frequently get used in advertising campaigns – particularly where the base story can be linked to an ‘Irish’-related product. A lot of the time however, those advertisements can be misrepresentative or simply get things wrong.

Take this Guinness campaign for the Guinness-sponsored All-Ireland Hurling Championship, for example. If you look closely, you’ll see that one of the three Cú Chulainn images in the advertising campaign got its sources mixed up. Can you tell which one it was?

Photo A (The Bull)

(b) Photo B (The Giant)

Photo C (The Hound)

If you can’t work it out, you’ll find the answer in the original post HERE.

Deirdre Unforgiven

I came across an interesting book – Deirdre Unforgiven – by Eamon Carr during my recent visit home. Sitting in a friend’s bookshelf, I found myself drawn to it by the bleak cover image from Irish artist John Devlin.

A brief flip through it revealed the book was a clever conflation of the ancient Irish tragedy with more contemporary ‘troubles’ in the north of Ireland covered by Eamon Carr during his time as a journalist. As a result, it’s quite powerful and evocative but it’s certainly not light reading.

Certainly interesting for those with a link to/or interest in Northern Ireland and a familiarity with the raw narrative of the original tale, it can be ordered through the usual outlets.

Cosplaying Irish History

The site of Cú Chulainn’s supposed settlement at Dún Dealgan (which actually means ‘the Dún of Dalga’) was, in far more recent times, anglicized to Dundalk. When the town opened its first museum in 1901, therefore, it’s no surprise that they harkened back to the town’s imagined history rather than its real history – which involved colonisation, land grabbing, subjugation, and was a lot less appealing – to celebrate its opening.

That opening was marked with a huge outdoor pageant with numerous people dressed up in authentic fantasy costumes of the period. To celebrate the occasion four postcards were also produced.

Outdoor pageants of this type were very popular at the time but, obviously, come 1916, people had a lot more on their mind and they fell out of fashion.

Interestingly enough, go to any ‘mythology’-related event in Ireland and it seems to have become more popular again.

No-one cares if you scream!

This is a tagline I was using recently for ‘The Great Wild’ – an unintended spin on the iconic ‘Alien’ feature film tagline (“In space, no-one one can hear you scream”). I only realised that a day or two after coming up with it.

That said, at the time, I felt my tagline worked in terms of capturing the ‘isolation’ concept of the Great Wild, as well as the callous nature of some of its inhabitants. The ‘Alien’ tagline, however, was exceptionally clever in that it also captured the whole nature of space (the vacuum meaning that you can’t, of course, physically scream).

I don’t really feel this kind of ‘market writing’ is my forte but I guess, you just do what you can and look at other talented people for inspiration.

‘Liath Luachra: The Great Wild’ is currently running at a reduced price ($2:00 instead of $4.99) but I’ll probably be going back to the original price in a few weeks.

A Moment on the Islet

There was one morning when the world dissolved, obliterated in a downpour that melted the distant islands, then the immediate surroundings as well.

Preceded by a cluster of unusually threatening, blue-bruised clouds, the incoming deluge had given plenty of warning. As a result, the girl was comfortably settled under a solitary oak at the tip of the inlet outcrop, cloak tugged tight around her shoulders as she waited to watch the clouds to unload their burden.

The downpour rattled the lake’s surface with a startling intensity that she’d never seen before, a ferocious hail that scattered white-foamed eruptions across the water around her. Mirrored by countless ripples on that shuddering surface, the resulting kaleidoscope of movement was giddyingly, but terrifyingly, beautiful.

Tethered to the island by nothing but a thin strip of rock, the girl felt a swell of panic when even that link disappeared, and her existence reduced to the tree above and three paces of the rocky outcrop. Conscious that there was nothing beyond the fusillade of rain, she was struck by a sudden, shocking sense of absence.

Terrified at the prospect of being cut adrift, she peered desperately through the deluge for any hint of physical substance, for any trace of natural solidness, for … anything.

To her trembling relief, the downpour eased soon after, and although it seemed to take far too long a time, the outline of the island took substance through the rain. Whole and expansive, the Great Mother’s bulk emerged from the surrounding murk. Slowly, ponderously, it reached across the thin strip of stone, embraced the girl in her fulsome whole and, soothingly, reassuringly, brought her home.

[Excerpt from ‘Liath Luachra: The Great Wild’, released 2023]

Raiders of the Lost Irish Crown!

I was quietly amused this week when I came across an article on Clare TD Cathal Crowe who apparently submitted a parliamentary question demanding that the Tánaiste work with the Irish Ambassador to the Holy See to ensure the (ahem) legendary crown of Brian Ború was returned.

Crowe, it seems, is a supporter of one the nuttier conspiracy theories about how Brian Ború’s ‘crown’has been hidden away in a Vatican vault – Indiana Jones style – for almost a thousand years.

According to Crowe, his request was prompted as a result of contact with a direct descendant of Brian Ború. To be honets, given the number of people supposedly descended from Brian Ború, that could have been anyone.

The thought that a rí like Brian Ború would actually bother with a crown (a Continental and British concept, never an ancient Irish one) is also quite amusing and tends to follow the fantastical thinking associated with other supposed Brian Ború relics like the Brian Ború Harp (supposedly owned by Brian Ború but not actually manufactured until 300-400 years later).

If you’re interested, you can find a link to the parliamentary question (and its response) in the comments below.