I know some of you lot are well versed in pagan history (I'm looking at you heron & zoomie ) So why don't you folks regale us with your favourite celtic/pagan tales... please
I remember reading about some good ol' boys in rural Arkansexasabama or wherever (got this story thirdhand sorry) finding out about some pagan gathering in some woods nearby and decide to terrorise the vegan, Kerry-loving Hillary Clinton new ager fluffy bunnies by riding out in the truck and putting up a big ole cross. Two words: Asatru blot. So in other words when they yeep yip yeehawed out of their Ford Truck they realised they were staring at a bunch of VERY large men carrying war hammers, spears, swords, etc. Apparently one of them said "if you put up that cross you're going on it" and they fled.
Awesome story. Ok here is an old myth. I told it to all the kiddies for Samhain. Finn, Diarmuid, and Conan were out hunting late one evening. As they trailed a deer, the wood became darker than normal for this time of day. Suddenly the realized they were surrounded by fog, a thick fog. When they emerged from the other side of this thick cloud, they saw the most beautifully enchanting woman they had ever seen. She walked into the forest, leading them deeper and deeper until they came to an old house. She went inside, and the fought to be the first to the door. Finn, being the leader of the Fenian Warriors, was the one who got to knock upon the door of this old shack. After a few knocks, to their surprise and disappointment, an old frail man answered the door. He invited them in. As was the custom of the celtic people, the old man invited them to eat at his table, and to sleep under his roof for the night. It was too late to go back home now. They graciously accepted the offer, and found their seat at the table. Just then, the beautiful woman came out with the serving trays. The Fenians all stared at her in amazement. Diarmuid, being quite the playboy, stood up, stretched to his full, broad height, and struted over to the woman. With all the charm of the Gaels he smiled at her, and gave her a line of compliments that could have gone forever. Diarmuid was a poet and could have sang her homage for a lifetime. The woman smiled at him, and said "I am sorry, you had me once, and never again will you have me again" This puzzled the hell out of poor Diarmuid because never had he been blessed with such a vision as this woman. Sadly he took his place at the table, mindblown as to what she had said. Finn and Conan both had a giggle, for they had never seen the Great Diarmuid strike out. As they were eating, they noticed a small young goat tied to the wall by a ribbon. Curious, Finn asked the old man about the little creature. The old man, with a glint in his eye, smiled and walked over to the little animal. He said that who ever could catch this small little billygoat would be granted forever with the young woman. They all fought, again as men do, over who would get to try first. Conan was decided to give it the first go, since poor Diarmuid was still heart broken, and Finn had nothing yet to prove. SO Conan stood up, and walked towards the recently freed little animal, slowly he extended his huge hands, for Conan was the largest of the Fenian men. He snuck up, AND JUMPED at the goat, as it ran out from in front of him. Conan fell face first into the wall, dizzied, he returned to his seat. Diarmuid decided to give it a shot, he despretly wanted to have this woman. He took after the goat, which ran under, over and around the dining table, knocking food from plate and drink from glass and making a mess of the place. Conan, Finn and the old man laughed at such a sight, while Diarmuid, now embarrassed, rejected and heartbroken returned to his seat. Finn, now embarrassed of his men, stood up, cursed them for failind, boasted as to how he ALWAYS has to be the hero, and took after the little goat, much to the same result as the first two great warriors. With that, the old man stood from his seat, walked calmly to the wee animal, and gently tied a bow around its neck and led it with a finger tip back to its corner. Then men were dumbfounded. Puzzled, they finished what food hadnt been knocked to the floor, and retired to bed. None of them could sleep, amazed at the events of the day, wondering about the goat, the old man, and that goddess that graced their vision. The next morning, as they prepared to leave, in a rush to exit this enchanted place, the curiousity got the best of them. They all three approached the old man with the Who the What and the Why of the night before. The old man, finally letting them in, says. "That beautiful woman, that said you could never have her and had lost her before, was youth, and you never know you had it until its gone" "The wee little goat was life, and no matter how fast you run, how strong you are, or how hard you try, it will always eventually get away from you" "And I, I am death and only I can control him, and when the woman becomes lost to you, and you can not catch the goat, it is I that you must answer to" With that, the Fenian men fled the house, rushed through the woods and found themselves lost in a fog. Soon the fog lifted, and they stood in the exact spot the had been the evening before.
Not really. Depends on how its used lol. But in its day, it refered to the out of fashion non christian country folks. It just stuck.
The obvious answer would be Táin Bó Cúalnge, or The Cattle Raid of Cooley, which is the central tale of the famous Ulster Cycle. It's a bit long to post, but you may read it here: http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/cool/index.htm As for books, I highly recommend: Druids by Morgan Llywelyn, the tale of the last great Druid of Gaul, as Vercingetorix tried to unite the Celtic warrior tribes of Gaul against the spread of the Roman Empire in the 1st century BC. The Eagle and the Raven by Pauline Gedge (Not the book of the same title by James Michener). It is the same story as Druids, but set in Albion in the first century. The stories of the tribal kings and queens, the battle for freedom against Caesar's legions in the last days of Celtic reign in what is now Britain. This book is so central to our clan that it is required reading. While both of these books are works of fiction, they contain the facts of history: entire nations fought to the last man, woman and child rather than become slaves of Rome. Now, a story (my personal favorite). How the Son of The Gobhaun Saor Sold the Sheepskin Retold by Ella Young, Celtic Wonder Tales (1910) The Gobhaun Saor was a great person in the old days, and he looked to his son to be a credit to him. He had only one son, and thought the world and all of him, but that was nothing to what the son thought of himself. He was growing up every day, and the more he grew up the more he thought of himself, till at last the Gobhaun Saor's house was too small to hold him, and the Gobhaun said it was time for him to go out and seek his fortune. He gave him a sheepskin and his blessing, and said: "Take this sheepskin and go into the fair and let me see what cleverness you have in selling it." "I'll do that," said the son, "and bring you the best price to be got in the fair." "That's little," said the Gobhaun Saor, "but if you were to bring me the skin and the price of it, I'd say you had cleverness." "Then that's what I'll bring you!" said the son, and he set off on his travels. "What do you want for that sheepskin you have?" said the first man he met in the fair. He named his price. "'Tis a good price," said the man, "but the skin is good, and I have no time for bargaining; here is the money; give me the skin." "I can't agree to that," said the son of the Gobhaun Saor. "I must have the skin and the price of it too." "I hope you may get it!" said the man, and he went away laughing. That was the way with all the men that tried to buy the skin, and at last the son of the Gobhaun Saor was tired of trying to sell it, and when he saw a crowd of people standing around a beggar man he went and stood with the rest. The beggar man was doing tricks and every one was watching him. After a while he called out: "Lend me that sheepskin of yours and I'll show you a trick with it! " "You needn't ask for the loan of that skin," said one of the men standing by, "for the owner of it wants to keep it and sell it at the same time, there's so much cleverness in him!" The son of the Gobhaun Saor was angry when that was said, and he flung down the skin to the juggler-man. "Do a trick with it if you can," said he. The beggar man spread out the skin and blew between the wool of it, and a great wood sprang up--miles and miles of a dark wood--and there were trees in it with golden apples. The people were frightened when they saw it, but the beggar man walked into the wood till the trees hid him. There was sorrow on the son of the Gobhaun Saor at that. "Now I'll never give my father either the skin or the price of it," he said to himself, "but the least I may do is to take him an apple off the trees." He put out his hand to an apple, and when he touched it he had only a bit of wool in his hand. The sheepskin was before him. He took it up and went out of the fair. He was walking along the roads then and it was growing dark and he was feeling sorry for himself, when he saw the light of a house. He went toward it, and when he came to it the door was open, and in the little room inside he saw the beggar man of the fair and another man stirring a big pot. "Come in," said the beggar man; "this is the house of the Dagda Mor, the World Builder. It isn't much, as you see, but you may rest here and welcome, and maybe the Dagda will give us supper." "Son Angus," said the Dagda to the beggar man, "you talk as if I had the Cauldron of Plenty, and you know well that it is gone from me. The Fomorians have it now and I have only this pot. Hard enough it is to fill it, and when it is filled I never get a good meal out of it, for a great, hulking, splay-footed churl of a Fomorian comes in when he smells the meat and takes all the best of it from me, and I have only what remains when he has gorged himself; so I am always hungry, son Angus." "Your case is hard," said Angus, "but I know how you can help yourself." "Tell me how," said the Dagda. "Well," said Angus, "get a piece of gold and put it into the best part of the meat, and when the Fomorian has eaten it up tell him he has swallowed the gold; his heart will burst when he hears that, and you'll be rid of him." "Your plan is good," said the Dagda, "but where am I to get the gold? The Fomorians keep me building all day for them, but they give me nothing." "I wish I had a piece of gold to give you myself," said Angus. " 'Tis a bad thing to be a beggar man! The next time I disguise myself I'll be a prince." He laughed at that, but the Dagda stirred the pot and looked gloomy. The son of the Gobhaun Saor felt sorry for him and remembered that he had a gold ring his father had given him. He pulled it off his finger and gave it to the Dagda. "Here," said he, "is a piece of gold and you can be rid of the Fomorian." The Dagda thanked him and gave him his blessing and they spent the night in peace and happiness till morning reddened the sky. When the son of the Gobhaun Saor started to go, Angus set him a bit on the way. "You are free-handed," he said to him, "and a credit to your father, and now I'll give you a bit of advice--Say 'Good morrow kindly' to the first woman you can meet on the road, and good luck be with you." It wasn't long till the son of the Gobhaun Saor saw a woman at a little stream washing clothes. "Good luck to the work," he said, "and good morrow kindly." "Good morrow to yourself," said she, "and may your load be light." "It would need to be light," said he, "for I'll have far enough to carry it." "Why so? " said she. "I must carry it till I meet some one to give me the price of it and the skin as well." "You need travel no further for that," said she; "give me the sheepskin." "With a heart and a half," said he, and he gave her the skin. She paid the price, and she plucked the wool from the skin and threw him the skin. "Now you can go home to your father," she said. He wasn't long going, and he was proud when he gave the Gobhaun the skin and the price of it. "What man showed you the wise way out of it?" said the Gobhaun Saor. "No man at all," said the son, "but a woman." "And you met a woman like that, and hadn't the wit to bring her with you!" said the Gobhaun Saor. "Away with you now, and don't let the wind that is behind you come up with you. till you ask her to marry you!" The son didn't need the second word, and the wind didn't overtake him till he asked the woman to marry him. They came back together, and the Gobhaun made a wedding feast for them that was remembered year in and year out for a hundred years. Cheers!
The T‡in is a great story, i like it alot. It has parallels to the Gaulish origin myth of the White Cow of the sky and the Dark Bull (the ancestor Donn) Its one of my favorites. I do prefer the the Cuhulain tales to the Fenian cycle, I just like the one i posted above. I also like the story of Oisin and his fairy wife, and running into St Patrick later.
