Journal articles on the topic 'Celtic mythology'

Purpose – This bibliography explores reference sources related to Celtic literature and mythology. Design/methodology/approach – This article provides an overview of and commentary on the available resources in the subjects of Celtic literature and mythology, focusing on those that are most valuable. Findings – Students, historians and genealogy researchers have all demonstrated a strong interest in the field of Celtic studies, especially the areas pertaining to Celtic literature and Celtic mythology. Surveying and providing access to resources on these topics is necessary to effective research in these subjects. Originality/value – Resources on Celtic studies are particularly useful for researchers – the sheer number of descendants of Celtic people currently in America ensures that this topic will continue to be relevant for those studying history and genealogy.

In the present study four Celtic-Slavic correspondences in mythology and sacral lexicon were analysed. Although the idea of a common heritage (so Victor Kalygin) cannot be excluded, the borrowing or adaptation of the Celtic theonyms and sacral terms seem to be a more probable explanation.

Introduction Celtic Studies are concerned with the languages, literature, culture, mythology, religion, art, history, and archaeology of historical and contemporary Celtic countries and traces of Celtic influences elsewhere. The historical Celtic countries include ancient Gaul, Galatia, Celtiberia, Italy, Britain and Ireland, whereas the modern Celtic territories are limited to Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Isle of Man, Cornwall and Brittany. It has to be stressed that Celtic Studies are not identical with Irish (or Scottish, Welsh, or Breton) Studies, though they are, for obvious reasons, closely connected.

That extreme metal has had a conflictual experience with religion is nothing new. However, extreme metal’s engagement with ‘God’ is much more complicated than mere mockery, disdain or satire. This article will explore, through a close analysis of Celtic Frost’s Monotheist, and Antediluvian’s Cervix of Hawaah and λόγος, the often sincere and thoughtful, yet critical, engagement with God and religion through a very particular voice that I see within the extreme metal ethos. This voice takes the form of deconstructing Christian mythology through the paradoxical aspects of the religious – where the aetiological aspects of a myth are undermined not by reasoned analysis but through the inverted repetition of biblical stories and mythology.

"The independent Irish animation studio Cartoon Saloon, one of the greatest examples of European animation, has created a series of films based on Celtic Irish mythology throughout their short but prosperous career. In their films they reflect the stories of fairies and druids intertwined with the reality of a country tormented throughout history. In this article we’ll analyse these myths, the sources they’re based on, and how the studio uses them and updates them to tell new stories based on the stories of yore."

Since the beginning of the nineteenth century language has come to occupy a prominent place, often a provocative and intolerant one, in the ideology and rhetoric of nations. ‘Every people (Volk)’, so Herder asserted, ‘has its own language as it has its own culture (Bildung).’ Bishop Stubbs spoke with equal certainty, if only to vindicate the Germanic character of the English people and to clear it of the charge of being infected with Roman or Celtic traits. Language, he pronounced roundly, is ‘the nearest approach to a perfect test of national extraction’. It is a sentiment whose certainty and content would command almost no historical support today. We are much more likely to agree with Eric Hobsbawm's opinion that ‘language was merely one, and not necessarily the primary, way of distinguishing between cultural communities’.

The authors employ the concept of the “mythological frontier” for analyzing the mythology of small communities, acknowledging that geographic and linguistic borders often do not coincide with mythological boundaries. Using philosophical anthropology, the mythological frontier helps to define the limits of the Other, enabling engagement with myth and the mythological from the periphery of contemporary consciousness. This paper aims to critically assess the “Myths from A to Z” series published by Mann, Ivanov, Ferber. This series covers a wide range of mythologies, including Scandinavian, Egyptian, Celtic, Indian, Greco-Roman, Sumerian, Japanese, Korean, Romanian, Slavic, Volga, and Karelian-Finnish. Myths are crucial for understanding the environment and drawing upon our cultural legacy, playing a significant role in helping individuals find meaning in the world and establish shared cultural and personal identities. The authors adopt various approaches to analyze the mythology of specific communities, focusing on the relationships between myth and culture, myth and fairy tale, or myth and epic. They also attempt to reconstruct comprehensive mythological systems or the historical pasts of the communities under study. A common theme across most books in the series is the self-construction and understanding of the Other (a different culture) through the “mythological frontier”, although this is not always explicitly stated.

As Christmas 2000 Approached In Dublin There Appeared Little prospect that its citizens would avoid the annual rigmarole associated with securing a safe passage home after an evening out. Anaesthetized by now to forecasts of an integrated transport system the envy of Europe, this was a public that had become weary. As for getting a taxi home, there are few it seems who by now could not recount to you their own little horror story: two-hour vigils at a taxi rank in the rain had become firmly ensconced within the mythology of the Celtic Tiger. And yet, as with so many other anecdotes of this period, they would have to vie for our attention in a conversation space crowded with incredulous descriptions of Dublin's morning gridlock, its escalating house prices or political and financial embezzlement.

The archaic mythology of Celts like the other pagan cosmologic systems is based on binary oppositions e.g. light and darkness, “our world” and the Otherworld. The comparative reconstruction of the basic concepts of the pre-Christian mytho-poetical tradition is in most cases based on the Old Irish text. Nevertheless, Breton folklore texts (often neglected because of their modernity) can be useful for further reconstruction of the opposition “light – dark”, “our world – otherworld”. The fact of the existence of such oppositions like one of the first steps of the human mind on the way of understanding the world and structuring the society was observed by ethnologists, psychologists and comparative linguists.

This article is a comparative study, in which a certain type of female figure from the Ladin mythology, the gana and Donna Chenina, is analysed and compared with similar figures found in other productions spread over the Alps, in order to verify whether they are all referable to one specific ancient figure from which all the others have descended with slight variations. The study confirms the hypothesis of a Celtic substratum to which it is possible to refer and which has formed ganes, dialas and fairies, according to where they can be found across the Alps. This is supported by the fact that these female figures have different names but their essential characteristics are constant, very precise and refer, most likely, to very ancient divinities, worshipped at a time when Europe was still an Indo-Europe-an group, had become familiar with agriculture and was probably populated by matrilineal societies.

Abstract Iele (or ielele, with a definite article) is the name of the “evil fairies” (zânele rele) of the Romanian mythology. They are mentioned in old Romanian folktales and legends and they have been a constant source of inspiration for many Romanian writers, who transformed them into literary characters in their works.1 Also, they have been a controversial subject of many folkloric studies, whose authors have tried to explain the origin and meaning of these supernatural female creatures. The present author aims to discuss the most significant (however divergent) opinions about the Romanian iele and to point out similarities with Germanic (and possibly Celtic) traditions, in which special categories of fairies have functions and names that resemble those of the Romanian iele. Under such circumstances, the idea of a probable Old Germanic origin of the Romanian term iele should not be regarded as out-of-place.

<p>Este artículo completa otro anterior en el que se consideraban los problemas del arquetipo de Tristán e Iseo y la relación de esta leyenda con elementos de la cultura celta y con la novela persa Wïs y Räimïn. En esta continuación se comentan otras relaciones entre la materia relativa a Tristán y diversos elementos procedentes de Oriente, del folclore universal, de la mitología clásica y de la misma sociedad contemporánea a las primeras versiones escritas de la leyenda. Del examen de todos estos materiales se concluye que la historia de Tristán e Iseo surge como conglomerado de diferentes fuentes y tradiciones.</p><p>This article completes another one in which problems about the archetype and Celtic origins of Tristan legend have been treated. Now we discusses relationships among Tristan and several elements from Oriental culture, universal folklore, classical mythology and contemporaneous society. Tristan's legend is the result of the intermingling of all them.</p>

The notion of transcendental love in the context of “the eternal return”, the motif of Eros, and the image of a woman are discussed in Marcelijus Martinaitis’s book “Atmintys: meilės lyrikos albumas” (Eng. Reminiscences: the album of love lyrics”) (2008). The methods of mythopoetic thought, comparativistics, and interpretative mind have been applied. On the basis of the Bible, mythology, the notion of and relation between Eros and Love, also combining notions developed by philosophers as Nikolai Berdyaev, Erich Fromm, Vladimir Solovyev, phenomenologists as Algis Mickūnas, Mircea Eliade, Plato, and insights by popes Paul VI and Benedict XVI, a concept which might be useful in deciphering the language of love in Marcelijus Martinaitis’s book is introduced. The primary code of the album of love is the concept of memory and the notion of love as seen by Oskaras Milašius, while the secondary code relates to Dante, chivalric romance of Provence troubadours, legends of King Arthur, Celtic mythology. The genre of M. Martinaitis’s reminiscences was born when the poet was studying in Gervinės, and the first collection of Reminiscences appeared in 1986. The text of Reminiscences was seen as hermetic, intertextual, reflecting the act of cosmogony and antropogony in permanent space-time. The process of word re-creation is associated with archetypal consciousness, and the cycle of “the eternal return” prevails. Love is perceived as transcendental and existential basis, a purpose to merge with God, God’s gift to humanity, and the vision of love object. Eros (passion) is ambivalent: it is earthly / heavenly, sinful / divine, creating / destructive, and driving power of creation. A woman is seen as earthly / sensual, divine / unreachable. An issue which motif (Christian or courtesan literature) dominates in the album of love lyrics is discussed. Album is of great interest as an immanent text.

Zusammenfassung The goddess Orthia, whose name is attested by different variants in inscriptions mainly at her sanctuary at Sparta, and who was at some point identified with Artemis, is the subject of an ongoing debate in various fields of ancient studies. As the textual mythology of the goddess is meagre, the etymology of this theonym is of primary importance in bringing to light possible mythological concepts associated with the deity. Drawing on earlier attempts proposed in the literature, the Greek adjective ὀρθός (ved. ūrdhvá- ‚upright‘) is identified as the natural derivational basis for the name, which can in turn be traced back to the PIE root underlying ved. vrādh- and av. uruuad-. In Vedic, ūrdhvá- is used in describing the epiphany of Uṣas. Orthia can therefore be considered to be a descendant of the PIE dawn goddess. Via its etymology, the name of Orthia is related to the Avestan theonym Arəduuī (and probably to Celtic Ardvinna as well). The abundantly documented mythological profile of the Iranian goddess matches up well with the proposed origin of the name, thereby cross-validating the linguistic and mythological origin of Orthia.

Cultural-historical and literary gestalt in the Latvian short story “Saint Birgitta” (“Heliga Birgitta”) by Jānis EzeriņšThe Latvian author Jānis Ezeriņš’s (1891–1924) literary heritage includes, among other texts, the collection of short stories Fantastiska novele un citas (Fantastic short story and others, 1923). The collection contains the short story “Svētā Briģita” (“Saint Birgitta”), in which the author has used the image of a saint, which is very well known in the history of culture, literature and religion. The image can be related both to Celtic mythology and the historical Swedish personality, who had been the founder of Vadstena monastery and a literary author herself (approx. 1303–1373). The aim of the article is to explore the function of the image in the prose text by the Latvian author Ezeriņš and its connections with the cultural and historical personality of St. Birgitta. It is not typical of Ezeriņš’s writings to make such an explicit and direct association with this kind of legendary phenomena, therefore the inclusion of the text in the collection may suggest a connection between St. Birgitta’s individual destiny and enduring human values. This writer’s choice can also be seen as his own claim to international recognition.

В причудливом преломлении преданий и легенд кельтов и сказаний о нартах осетин отражаются исторические события далеких времен. Любое предание, каждый кадæг основывается в той или иной мере на реальной жизни народа, изображает народный быт и знания, религиозные представления, социальные, моральные отношения, философские взгляды. Эта энциклопедичность выражения своеобразия обычаев, нравов, философских, эстетических и морально-этических воззрений лежит в основе и ирландского, и осетинского эпического наследия. В статье предпринята попытка определить этнокультурное влияние предков осетин на формирование мифологических, эпических и культурных систем народов Европы; выявить соответствия, возникшие в эпоху индоевропейского культурного сообщества, в кельтской и скифо-осетинской мифологии. Автор статьи на основе архаичности осетинской Нартиады и кельтских преданий и легенд выделяет общие элементы в культуре единого индоевропейского общества, а также совокупность общих мотивов в двух легендах – кельтской и осетинской. Публикация дополняет разработку вопроса кельтско-скифо-осетинских мифологических и фольклорных схождений Ж. Дюмезиля, Ж. Грисвара и ряда других ученых. Высказывается мысль, что религиозные представления народов индоевропейской языковой семьи заключали в себе схожие положения, установки и предпосылки, бравших начало в общем источнике мифологических концепций и основывавшихся на одной и той же мифологической базе. Сказания о нартах осетин и легенды и предания кельтов объединяла включенность в параллельные и идентичные системы, системы организации однородного эпического мира, способствовавших сохранению древних элементов. Historical events of distant times are reflected in the bizarre refraction of the legends about the Ossetian Narts and the traditions and legends of the Celts. Any legend, each kadæg is based in one way or another on the real life of the people, depicts folk life and knowledge, religious ideas, social, moral relations, and philosophical views. This encyclopedic expression of the uniqueness of customs, mores, philosophical, aesthetic and moral-ethical views is the basis of both the Irish and Ossetian epic heritage. The article attempts to determine the ethno-cultural influence of the ancestors of the Ossetians on the formation of mythological, epic and cultural systems of the peoples of Europe; identify compliance arising in the era of Indo-European cultural community, in Celtic and Scythian-Ossetian mythology. On the basis of archaic Nart Ossetian and Celtic legends and legends the author identifies common elements in the culture of common Indo-European society, as well as a set of common motifs in the two legends – Celtic and Ossetian. The publication complements the elaboration of the issue of Celtic-Scythian-Ossetian mythological and folklore convergence by J. Dumezil, J. Grisvard and a number of other scientists. The idea advanced is that the religious ideas of the peoples of the Indo-European language family contained similar provisions, attitudes and preconditions that originated in a common source of mythological concepts and were based on the same mythological basis. The legends about the Ossetian Narts and the legends and traditions of the Celts are rooted in their inclusion in parallel and identical systems, systems of organizing a homogeneous epic world that contributed to the preservation of ancient elements.

This study aimed to explore the motivations behind participation in publishing crowdfunding, specifically targeting Generation Y and Generation Z who supported the “Celtic Mythology Illustrated Project”. Thus, this study conducted Focus Group Interviews with three individuals from each generation, randomly sampled between May 1st and May 31st, 2023, to collect data. This data was then analyzed using Van Kaam's phenomenological analysis method. The results revealed that Generation Y recognize publishing crowdfunding as embodying both support and investment characteristics, agreeing on its necessity. Among the factors of self-determination, autonomy, and relatedness were found to be linked to their intrinsic motivation and intention to participate. Additionally, economic motives and the desire for social recognition appeared as their extrinsic motivations. In contrast, Generation Z perceives publishing crowdfunding as a concept characterized by support and communication, concurring with its necessity. Moreover, for Generation Z, all three sub-factors of self-determination—competence, autonomy, and relatedness—were observed in their intrinsic motivations, whereas only economic motives were identified as extrinsic motivations. This study confirmed differences in the motivations of Generation Y and Generation Z for participating in publishing crowdfunding. It also suggests that creators in the publishing field can enhance crowdfunding participation by strengthening supporters' self-determination from these generations, thereby increasing their intrinsic motivation.

This article discusses the most recent (twenty-first century) development in reception and adaptation of Nordic mythology (particularly referring to the Prose and Poetic Edda) and the appropriating of Nordic identities (stereotypes) that is taking place in the so-called new media. In the last two decades the reception of Nordic mythology or Nordic 'themes' in different new media like film, comic books, heavy metal music and computer games has exploded. New media are generally considered expressions of 'popular' culture and have therefore not yet received much scholarly attention. However, since those media are growing notably and especially computer games (console and online applications) reach an enormous audience.Scientific interest in them has increased in recent years. Miller mentions the 'sexiness of Vikings in video games, the pretense of Viking-like settings for popular television programs […]' (Miller, 2014, p. 4). The case study is Dark Age of Camelot (DAoC – Mythic Entertainment 2001) which is a MMORPG (Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game) that is currently (2015) still available to play online. We will show examples of themes (characters, narratives, objects etc.) deriving from Eddic texts and how they are represented and deployed in the game. Since the representation of 'Nordic' identity is a key feature in the game's construction, it will therefore be addressed as well. The fictional world of DAoC consists of three realms – Albion, Hibernia and Midgard – that are at war with each other. Their (human) inhabitants are respectively based on medieval Anglo-Saxon, Celtic and Norse tribes that differ distinctively in their character traits. Our goal is to elaborate on the representation of identity traits of the fictional 'Norse' races (as defined by the game) that appear in DAoC. We will scrutinize if and how the game uses older or more current concepts of (national) identity. In order to do so, an overview of Scandinavian / Nordic identity constructions that have been popular and / or widespread from antiquity will be presented, via medieval sources to romanticism and nineteenth century nationalism until current discussions of national identity.

The study examines the features of the strategies of mythologization and mystification used by Yurii Vynnychuk in creating his literary version of Ivan Vahylevych’s biography in the novel “Liutetsiia”. First of all the paper emphasizes the writer’s inclination to play with historic material characteristic of postmodernism, manifesting itself in most of his works and in the novel under study, in particular. The research pays special attention to the original interaction of mythological and cultural-historical aspects in the fictionalized biography of the renowned public figure of the 19th century, famous for his activity in Ruska Triitsia. It considers the specific features of the literary visualization of Ivan Vahylevych character in the relation to Ivan Franko’s essay representing the epistolary of the figures of the historical epoch depicted in the novel. The study determines the correlation between the personages in “Liutetsiia” and the characters and motives of the Celtic mythology. It identifies the specificity of the reminiscent relations of the main character with the archetypal figure of Don Juan. The conclusions highlight the use of irony, grotesque and comic modus by Yurii Vynnychuk as the manifestation of the neo-mythological device of deheroization. It also accentuates that the strategies of mythologization and mystification in “Liutetsiia” reflect the manner of interpreting cultural-historical material characteristic of the author.

В начале XX века большая часть альтовой музыки была написана для Лайонела Тертиса, знаменитого виртуоза, пропагандирующего альт в качестве сольного инструмента. Признававшийся современниками исполнителем такого же уровня, как Фриц Крейслер и Эжен Изаи, он вдохновил практически всех значительных композиторов Британии на написание произведений для альта. Cэр Арнольд Эдуард Тревор Бакс, композитор и поэт, также известный под псевдонимом Дермот O’Брин, долгое время жил в Дублине и был знаком со многими представителями Ирландского литературного возрождения. Соната для альта была написана Баксом пять лет спустя Пасхального восстания, трагические события которого оказали сильное влияние на его литературное и музыкальное творчество. В статье музыка сонаты рассматривается в контексте ирландского музыкального фольклора и кельтской мифологии. In the early 20th century most of the viola music was written for Lionel Tertis, the famous viola virtuoso and the pioneer of the viola as a solo instrument. Regarded by his contemporaries as a performer of the same level as Fritz Kreisler and Eugène Ysaÿe, he inspired almost all of the outstanding British composers of the time to write music for the viola. Sir Аrnold Edward Trevor Bax, a composer and a poet, who went under the pseudonym ‘Dermot O’Byrne’, has lived in Dublin for a long time; he was acquainted with many distinguished figures of the Irish literary revival. He wrote the Viola sonata five years after the Easter Rising – the tragedy that strongly influenced his literary and musical works. The article analyzes the musical contents of the sonata in connection with the Irish folk music and Celtic mythology.

English linguist Tolkien is world-famous as the creator of the fantasy genre and the author of the epic novel «The Lord of the Rings» which has overgrown the measures of a novel having become a cultural phenomena. The tree is one of the universal symbols of the spiritual culture. It unites the Earth with the heaven, defines the human’s way to oneself, to spiritual summits. In the works of J. R. R. Tolkien the tree isn’t just a detail but also a character, the symbol of the eternal life circulation. Symbolizing the synthesis of heaven, earth and water, the dynamics of life, combining the worlds, the tree in the creation of Tolkien is a complex archetypal derivative that accumulates feminine as a source of life, male as a defender of the genus. Being fond of Welsh and Finnish, Scandinavian and Celtic mythology, Tolkien used the elements of the latter to build a model of his own artistic world. But being a Christian, he could not implement his ideas into the Universe without a god. God is present in the work of Tolkien, though remains invisible. The artistic world of many works is built around a tree, which is not only a biblical image, but also a part of the social subconscious, archetype. The close relationship between the creator and creation is a reflection of the ancient beliefs about man and the tree as indivisible unity, that the tree could become a friend, a «twin brother» of a man, the incarnation of his soul. The tree becomes the creating centre of the main character’s own universe, the logical conclusion of the artist's life search. Not only mastery, but the power of the author's imagination is in the focus of the writer's attention.

In world folklore, both the Myth of the Snake-woman and the motive of the birth of “wonderful children” from half-humans-half animals are widespread. Melusine is a fairy, a heroine of a folk tale of Celtic origin. Often depicted as a female-snake or female-fish from the waist downwards, sometimes with two tails. The Legend of Melusine goes back to the mythological motif of the “sacred marriage” of a chthonic being with a celestial deity, which was then transformed into the fabulous motif of the “wonderful spouse” (AaTh 400-459). The folk legends we have considered about mermaids and other travesty of female characters in snakes reveal a direct connection with the cult of the goddess of love and fertility. All similar characters, like Melusine, reveal a connection with lunar symbolism, as well as with the other world. The moon and stars have a sacred symbolic meaning in the work of A. Remizov and accompany fragments of Melusine’s appearance, and are also present at all important and fateful events, such as the death of Emery, the Meeting of Raymond and Melusine at the source, and the Wedding. We have revealed the similarity of Melusine’s image with fish-like and snake-like characters in Armenian folklore and mythological texts. The large luminous stone on Melusine’s forehead echoes the motif of the magic stone on the head of the king of snakes or frogs. In the beliefs of the people, snakes personify spirits, the souls of ancestors. They live in their old homes and protect them. Both the serpent and the spirit of the ancestor are interested in the fertility of the clan and the fertility of the fields. Structurally A. Remizov’s Story consists of three parts: “The Story of the Story”, “Melusine”, “Kolovorot”. In his treatment of the legend of Melusine A. Remizov introduced psychological motivations for the actions of the heroes. As a result of the study of the Legend of Melusine in the literary processing of A. Remizov, we can conclude that Melusine reveals the closest connection with the pagan deities of fertility, as well as all three fairy sisters are in one way or another connected with the Armenian Kingdoms and Armenian mythology.

Resumo: Este artigo pretende fazer uma leitura da personagem “Nhinhinha”, do conto “A Menina de lá”, de Guimarães Rosa (1972), sob o viés da figura da personagem fada. Tal narrativa faz parte do livro Primeiras Estórias do escritor mineiro. Para complementar o estudo em relação à imagem da fada, este trabalho pretende analisar outra narrativa de Rosa (1970), o conto “A Caça à Lua”, que faz parte do livro Ave, Palavra e que apresenta também, como personagem, uma menina que remete tanto à própria “Nhinhinha”, como à figura da fada, criatura maravilhosa do imaginário popular, presente em várias narrativas tradicionais. Esta leitura recorrerá a escritos teóricos de J.R.R.Tolkien (2015), Italo Calvino (2010), Kátia Canton (1994), além de trazer postulações teóricas de Maurice Blanchot (2011) acerca do espaço literário de magia, do imaginário e do lugar da infância. Pontuações de Giorgio Agamben (2007) também serão evocadas para analisar afigura da fada como uma ajudante, ou seja, uma personagem de auxílio,que proporciona outra visão em relação ao olhar cotidiano. Outras postulações teóricas serão levantadas em relação à personagem fada,oriundas da mitologia célticae dos contos de fadas tradicionais, para entender a forma fluida entre vida, morte, magia, encanto e estranhamento, que as personagens dessas meninas apresentam nas narrativas de Rosa.Palavras-chave: Guimarães Rosa; fada; fantasia; contos de fadas; personagem.Abstract: This article intends to read the character “Nhinhinha” from the tale “The Girl There” by Guimarães Rosa (1972), under the image of the fairy character figure. Such narrative is part of the book First Stories by the writer from Minas Gerais, Brazil. To complement the study regarding the image of the fairy, this work intends to analyze another narrative by Rosa (1970), the short story “The hunting to the moon”, which is part of the book Bird, Word, and who also presents as a character a girl who refers so much to her own “Nhinhinha”, to the fairy figure, this wonderful creature from the popular imagination present in traditional narratives. This reading will use theoretical writings by J.R.R.Tolkien (2015), Italo Calvino (2010), Kátia Canton (1994), in addition to bringing theoretical postulations by Maurice Blanchot (2011) about the literary space of magic, the imaginary and the place of childhood. Scores by Giorgio Agamben (2007) will also be brought with regard to the fairy figure as a helper, that is, an aid character, that provides another view in relation to what has already been seen daily. Other theoretical postulations will be raised in relation to the fairy character brought from Celtic mythology, and traditional fairy tales, to understand the fluid form between life, death, magic, charm and strangeness, that the characters of these girls present in Rosa’s narratives.Keywords: Guimarães Rosa; fairy; fantasy; fairy tales; character.

Abstract Professor Waddell’s Archaeology and Celtic Myth (Dublin: Four Courts, 2014) now gains wider attention by a French translation, attractively presented with many illustrations. The main text, virtually unchanged from that of 2014, has seven chapters: encounters with myth; the Other World and tombs on the River Boyne; the “fugitive image” (on sun-worship and the like); the Quest for the Other World; the Horse Goddess; the Goddess of Sovereignty; and Sacred Kingship. The author (a Galway archaeologist) relates material entities (tombs, metalwork, sculpture) to the paganism represented in Irish texts and beyond. Plenty here, then, for prehistorians and literary scholars. They will be aided by a twenty-page bibliography, and obstructed by complete lack of an index. Yet the latter will not trouble non-specialists, also (with reason) likely to appreciate this study of Celtic mysteries.

From certain point of view a desperate defense of an aesthetic doctrine of classicism, undertaken by Jan Śniadecki, a Polish mathematician and astronomer of the eighteenth century, resembles the E. R. Curtius’ thesis on “Latinism” as a universal factor integrating European culture; it may be stated that post-Stanislavian classical writers in Poland were driven by the same “concern for the preservation of Western culture” which motivated Ernst Robert Curtius in the times of the Third Reich and after its collapse. But the noble-minded intentions were in both cases grounded on similarly distorted perspective, which ensued from a mistificatory attitude towards a non-Latin heritage of the European culture. The range of that mystification or delusion has been fully revealed by findings made by modern so-called new comparative mythology/philology. Another aspect of the problem is an uniform model of the Middle Ages, partially correlated with the Enlightenment-based stereotype of “the dark Middle Ages”, which despite of its anachronism existed in literary studies for a surprisingly long period of time. Although the Romantic Movement of 18th – 19th centuries has been quite correctly acknowledged as an anti-Latinistic upheaval, its real connections with certain traditions of Middle Ages still remain not properly understood. Some concepts concerning Macpherson’s The Works of ossian, put forward by modern ethnology, may yield clues to the research on the question. As suggested by Joseph Falaky Nagy, Macpherson’s literary undertaking may by looked into as a parallel to Acallam na Senórach compiled in Ireland between 11th and 13th centuries: in both cases to respond to threats to the Gaelic culture there arose a literary monument and compendium of the commendable past with the core based on the Fenian heroic tradition that was the common legacy for the Irish and Highlanders. Taking into consideration some other evidence, it can be ascertained that Celtic and Germanic revival initiated in the second half of 18th century was not only one of the most important impulses for the Romantic Movement, but it was also, in a sense, an actual continuation of the efforts of mediaeval writers and compilers (Geoffrey of Monmouth, Snorri Sturluson, Saxo Grammaticus, anonymous compilers of Lebor gabála Érenn and Acallam, Wincenty Kadłubek), who would successfully combine Latin, i.e. classical, and ecclesiastical erudition with a desire to preserve and adapt in a creative way their own “pagan” and “barbarian” legacy. A special case of this (pre)Romantic revival concerns Slavic cultures, in particular the Polish one. Lack of source data on the oldest historical and cultural tradition of Slavic languages, especially in the Western region, and no record about Slavic tradition in highbrow literary culture induced two solutions: the first one was a production of philological forgeries (like Rukopis královédvorský and Rukopis zelenohorský), the second one was an attempt to someway reconstruct that lost heritage. Works of three Romantic historians, W. Surowiecki, W. A. Maciejowski, F. H. Lewestam, shows the method. Seemingly contradicting theories they put forward share common ground in aspects which are related to the characteristics of the first Slavic societies: a sense of being native inhabitants, pacifism, rich natural resources based on highly-effective agriculture, dynamic demography, a flattened social hierarchy and physical prowess. The fact of even greater importance is that the image of that kind has the mythological core, the circumstance which remains hitherto unnoticed. Polish historians not only tended to identify historical ancient Slavs with mythical Scandinavian Vanir (regarding it obvious), but also managed to recall the great Indo-European theme of ”founding conflict” (in Dumézilian terms), despite whole that mythological model being far beyond the horizon of knowledge at that time. Despite all anachronisms, lack of knowledge and instrumental involvement in aesthetic, political or religious ideology, Romanticism really started the restitution of the cultural legacy of the Middle Ages, also in domain of linguistic and philological research. The consequences of that fact should be taken into account in literary history studies.

New investigations of the magnificent cart from FredbjergThe magnificent carts of Dejbjerg type from the Pre-Roman Iron Age (fig. 6) appear to be related to the vehicles used by the elite in the Celtic oppidae in Late la Tène times. The Danish group of carts comprises six almost identical vehicles (fig. 3), presumably produced in Danish workshops during Martens’ phase IIB 2. Of these, two were deposited in graves (those from Langå and Kraghede) in phase IIB 2, two were abandoned on settlements in the Early Roman Iron Age and the final two were deposited in the bog at Dejbjerg, possibly late in the Early Roman Iron Age, as more than 100 year old antiquities.The Danish carts each included more than 300 metal fitting of iron or bronze, a similar number of nails and more than 100 wooden components. A replica was constructed using methods as near as possible to the original in collaboration between Odense Museums and the Iron Age Village of Næsby in 1983-88. The vehicle was built according to drawings and descriptions produced on the basis of investigations of the all the Danish examples. The project was then continued by the mus­eum in Skjern-Egvad in 1996-2002. It has given such extensive knowledge of the cart’s construction and its performance that it is now possible to interpret wear traces and repairs on the original cart components.In 1969, potsherds, quernstones and bronze fittings turned up on a newly ploughed moorland plot at Fredbjerg in Western Himmerland (fig. 1). The items were declared to be danefæ, i.e. treasure trove belonging to the Danish State, by the Keeper of National Antiquities and their discovery prompted the Prehistoric Museum at Moesgård to carry out an archaeological excavation. This revealed the remains of a longhouse with living quarters to the west and a sunken eastern end (fig. 2) in which the remains of a cart of Dej­bjerg type were found (figs. 4-8). North of the house – not far from the original find site for the bronze fittings, which probably derive from an ornamented yoke – were traces of smithing and bronze casting activities (figs. 11-12). The remains of the yoke and cart formed part of the metal depot from a workshop associated with the last phase of the house. This was dated on the basis of pottery to the first half of the Early Roman Iron Age. At least two further houses were located in the area but it is uncertain whether there was a village at the site. The best parallel to this find is seen in the cart fittings from the longhouse in the village at Dankirke, which burnt down in the first part of the Early Roman Iron Age.In addition to a number of iron fittings (figs. 4, 5, 8) the cart remains from Fred­bjerg comprise parts of the undercarriage and the body of the vehicle; these are of Dejbjerg I type. The boards of the undercarriage had fingered fittings with rectangular perforations (fig. 5). The very long axle bolts on the shafts indicate a heavy axle construction (fig. 4). A very long iron fitting probably derives from the cart’s front axle. The corner plates from the body of the vehicle were found together with an iron-reinforced handle (fig. 6). Fluted ornamental nails (fig. 7) show no evidence of the red enamel seen on corres­ponding nails from Dejbjerg II. In addition to above, there are the cast fittings for a pikestaff or goad (stimulus) (fig. 10) and two cast ring-headed pins of bronze (fig. 9); these presumably constitute parts of the harness. The remaining bronzes comprise animal figures, rods and punch-decorated sheet fittings (figs. 11-12) which probably plated a wooden yoke. There are no exact parallels to a yoke of this type but a number of leather decorated yokes from chariot burials dated to the Hallstatt period show a certain similarity to the punch-decorated fittings from Fredbjerg (fig. 13). The double ducks may have functioned as terrets (rein rings) on the yoke.The Fredbjerg cart has, therefore, both fittings and ornamentation in common with the other carts of Dejbjerg I type, as well as having a series of special, local feat­ures. This suggests that some of the cart’s cast and punch-decorated bronze fittings could have been based on the same models as the fittings seen on the other carts, whereas the other fittings may have been produced according to local models related to the zoomorphic ornaments such as fibulae, Holstein belts and North Jutish cast belts. Jens Martens links these to the first horizon of princely graves in his phase IIB 1 (fig. 15).As the Fredbjerg house was constructed in Martens’ phase IIB 2, and abandoned in the first part of the Early Roman Iron Age, the cart is slightly older than the house. The Fredbjerg cart was – like the other examples – produced in one or more Danish workshops by Celtic influenced craftsmen as a symbol demonstrating the power of the weapon-bearing elite, described by Tacitus in Germania (chapter 10) from 98 BC – perhaps on the basis of an older tradition. Shortly after the birth of Christ the elite came under the influence of Roman culture (and mythology) and the carts were broken up. Only a few were preserved and these apparently functioned in rites of the fertility cult (without weapons) associated with the cart cleansing cere­mony which Tacitus describes in the above-mentioned work (chapter 40), probably according to a later tradition. If it is true that Nerthus (Njord) and Freja/Frøj were linked with the cult’s rite, then it is possible that the carts discovered at Rappendam and Tranbær also resulted from fertility rites concerning pars-pro-toto cart sacrifices. In other words, the old fertility gods may have been worshipped from period II of the Pre-Roman Iron Age (like the Rappendam find) and onwards until the later part of the Early Roman Iron Age (like the Tranbær/Dejbjerg finds), when they were overcome and taken as hostages by the weapon-bearing Ases with Roman and Greek colleagues who were worshipped up into the Viking Age. Per Ole SchovsboNæstved

Latvian folksongs of three types (LD 33802, 34043, 34047) and a Lithuanian song Aušrinė (‘the Morning Star’) published by Liudvikas Rėza (Ludwig Rhesa, RD I 62) depict a tree struck by the Thunderer (Latvian Perkons). The kind of the tree may vary: usually, it is an oak, but sometimes it may be an apple-tree. Researchers of Latvian mythology and folklore call it Saules koks (‘the tree of the Sun’). In different variants, the striking of the tree tends to be part of the plot of the heavenly wedding. Sometimes Perkons allegedly strikes the tree in order to express his objections regarding the Sun’s decision to marry off her daughter to an “unsuitable” groom.Scholars interpret this image of the thunderstruck tree in different ways. Wilhelm Mannhardt thought the image to have stemmed from a natural phenomenon – the rays of the setting Sun. Vyacheslav Ivanov and Vladimir Toporov attributed this motive to the symbol of the World Tree and the Indo-European “basic myth” that they had reconstructed. According to Pranė Dundulienė, the thunderstruck oak is a symbolic representation of the bridegroom. Having amassed considerable ethnographic and folklore data, the author of this article questions the earlier explanation presented by Leopold von Schröder and Haralds Biezais. According to them, the motive of Perkons striking the oak may stem from the traditional Latvian wedding custom: the bride’s coachman makes a sign of the cross on the gate or the door with his sword upon arrival, imitating the cutting. Our analysis employs the comparative method. The appreciation of this motive requires considering the connections between the Thunderer and the oaks that exist in numerous ancient Indo-European religions (including Greek, Roman, Celtic, and Baltic). The lightning strike to the oak, possibly, only added some extra meaning to this connection (the thunderstruck wood was used for magic purposes), which emphasized power and strength attributed both to the thunder and the oak. The plausibility of relating the powerful celestial oak to the sacred tree of the homestead would require further discussions. Some variants of the mythological folksongs suggest that the oak hit by Perkons must have been growing by the gate. However, in folksongs and customs, this particular location emerges as liminal and unsafe in relation to home.Although Biezais used the Latvian example, similar customs of imitated cutting of the gate, door, or beam are also widespread in the Eastern Slavic lands. This enables us to understand better their nature, variations, and possible origins. Currently, we can use more ample Latvian and Lithuanian data. In wedding customs, actions similar to cutting or striking mostly indicate the active or masculine principle, including clashing between the bride’s and the groom’s parties, and invading of the foreign territory; but generally are characteristic of both sides. The fierce and militant character of Perkons is especially evident in this liminal sphere; there, as wedding customs and songs clearly indicate, also the hardest clash between the opposing parties takes place at some stage of the wedding. Although this clash is most prominent at the beginning of the wedding ceremony (during matchmaking, and particularly when representatives of the groom arrive to take the bride to her new home), certain “active response” is also evident in the way that the bride’s party behaves at the gate or door of the groom’s house. This may also include new elements, such as threatening to break the table with a specific musical instrument. Taunting of the wedding parties while using similar images and formulas to those used by folksongs describing animals enable us to see more clearly some peculiarities of the Thunderer’s image apparent in the songs describing the heavenly wedding (his attribution to the bride’s party and unexpectedly destructive character). The selected folklore and customs serve to considerably widen and deepen the possibilities of discussing the hypothesis raised by von Schröder and Biezais. However, this does not solve the main issues inherent in the substantiation of this hypothesis – e. g., it contradicts the authentic storylines of the songs describing the heavenly wedding; objects that are cut differ as well, while the consequences of the action – the destruction of the oak – do not ground its possible ritual purpose. The use of the sign of the cross is also ambivalent in customs, since it can serve both as means of protection against the adversary of the Thunderer – the devil, and against the thunder itself.However, the collected comparative materials provide a better idea regarding the meaning of this mythic thunder strike in the wedding contexts, elucidating certain regularities and inconsistencies.

A gift to VeledaThe large finds of military equipment in Southern Scandinavian bogs (the so-called war booty sacrifices) have long comprised a central aspect of research into the Iron Age. During recent decades, research has focused on the chronology and origin of these find assemblages, the hierarchical structure of Iron Age armies and their military strategic organisation and logistics. Comparably little attention has, on the other hand, been paid to the finds in their primary sense, i.e. as votive offerings and, accordingly, expressions of ritual acts with ideological and religious connotations. Our knowledge concerning the character of the acts performed before and during the actual depositions, and the religious background for these acts, is very limited. An historical account of which there has, until now, been little awareness in this respect, is the history of Veleda. According to Tacitus’ Historiae, Veleda was a prophetess of the German tribes north of the Lower Rhine. Tacitus’ account may serve as a source of inspiration towards a better understanding of these war booty offerings. The aim of this article is to draw attention to the ritual and sacral dimension of the Southern Scandinavian war-booty sacrifices and to paint a picture of the possible background and religious connotations for these finds.About the South Scandinavian war booty sacrificesThe Southern Scandinavian war booty sacrifices typically contain various types of weapons and elements of the personal equipment of individual warriors, as well as tools and other elements belonging to an army’s logistical apparatus. The find sites are concentrated geographically relative to the eastern coast of Jutland and on the island of Funen. The majority dates from the Late Roman Iron Age and the beginning of the Migration Period. It is generally accepted that the war booty offerings represent the equipment belonging to defeated armies, deposited by the victors of the conflicts. Recent debate has focussed on the question of whether the sites mirror offensive or defensive military actions. With regard to the ritual background and religious connotations of the sites, discussions have traditionally been based on descriptions by Classical writers of the sacrificial rituals of Celtic or Germanic tribes. These traditionally form the explanatory framework for the interpretation of the sites as representing votive offerings of a victorious army to some war god or other.The sacrificial sites as a ritual sceneCommon features of the war booty offerings are their location in a wetland environment, originally a lake or bog, and the intensive destruction of the artefacts previous to their deposition. Analyses indicate that this destruction was conducted very intentionally and according to a firmly structured pattern of ritual behaviour. The sacrifices thus represent considerable organisational and logistical investment(s), involving the participation of large groups of people. Through an association with high steep moraine hillsides, the topography of some of the offering sites resembles that of a natural amphitheatre. The localities seem to have been intentionally chosen to allow a large audience to witness the performance of the offering. The offerings can thus be seen as highly performative and dramatic spectacles, which, drawing on both additive and visual effects, can be expected to have left a lasting impression in the memories both of individuals and of the community.Tacitus’ account of VeledaTacitus’ account of Veleda forms part of his report in books IV and V of Historiae, on the revolt of the tribes of the Batavi and the Bructeri against Roman administration, which took place around 70 AD in the province of Germania Inferior. The prophetess is introduced in the context of the siege and destruction of Castra Vetera, near modern Xanten, in 69/70 AD. According to Tacitus, she had foretold the victory of the alliance of Germanic tribes; one of the legionaries of the defeated legions was sent to her along with other gifts. She is described as a woman of the tribe of the Bructeri. Furthermore she is told to have had enormous authority, due to her prophetical and even divine power. Shortly after the siege of Castra Vetera, the Germans are reported to have succeeded in capturing the flagship of the Roman Rhine fleet, which again was brought as a present to Veleda.Veleda and her giftsVeleda is described more elaborately as being one of many prophetesses worshipped by the Germanic tribes, and who even may have achieved divine status. She was said to dwell in a tall tower of some kind, and direct contact with her was prohibited. Against the background of Veleda’s divine status, and her role as a mediator between gods and humans, the gifts which were brought to her after the Germans’ two victories can be seen as offerings. The Roman legate, said to have been killed on his way to Veleda, corresponds to the presentation and execution of the enemy commander in the context of the Roman triumph, or the killing of the Roman officers in the aftermath of the Battle of Teutoburg Forest. The trireme, the largest type of contemporary military vessel, cannot be expected to have been intended for military use but as an obvious expression of Roman military power, and hence clear proof for the Germans’ triumph.From Castra Vetera to IllerupThe range of gifts which, according to Tacitus, were brought to Veleda, correlates with some of the elements of the war booty offerings. With regard to the Roman officer, it was especially weapons and personal equipment, presumably those of the leading commanders of the defeated armies, that were deposited at several sites. These probably received special attention during preparation of the offerings. Tacitus’ account on the captured trireme is reminiscent of the finds of either complete or parts of what can be assumed to have been specialised military vessels seen in a number of war booty offerings. The similarities between the example of Veleda and the war booty offerings are not limited to the respective gifts/offerings. In both cases, the giving of gifts/offerings is in the context of a military campaign. The vessels, in particular, can be characterised as very spectacular items, and in both cases the victor of the military conflict was responsible for the giving of gifts/offerings.Veleda and her sisters in the NorthTacitus’ description of Veleda, and other references to Germanic prophetesses in Classical writings, shows parallels to the description of the Völva in much later Old Norse written sources from the medieval period. Fulfilling a role as a mediator between the gods and humans, these female prophetesses seem not only to have been part of actual society, but also an element of contemporary mythology. The Völva can be perceived as being associated with the mythological concept of the Norns, which again relate to other mythological figures, such as the Valkyries, Disir and a number of minor deities. Like Veleda, these religious specialists and mythological beings all relate to the general concept of fate, and in particular to warriors and war. Several mythological beings and female deities that appear in the Old Norse written sources, presumably representing an old stratum within the mythological narrative, show close links to a wetland environment, in the form of lakes, wells or bogs.The goddess in the lakeEven though both the various historical sources and the archaeological evidence are characterised by considerable variation in terms of space and time they nevertheless open up far-reaching perspectives and can be used as source of inspiration for a better understanding of war booty offerings. This applies not least to the question of whether these phenomena result from unsuccessful invasions or successful raids abroad. The latter hypothesis has been promoted more recently with reference to the Roman Triumph. The example of Veleda shows that the tribe of the Bructeri celebrated a version of the Triumph, indicating a similar practice in a Germanic context. This supports the above hypothesis that at least some of the war booty offerings may result from the showing off to the native community of war booty acquired abroad. The story of Veleda is of particular interest with reference to the nature of the ritual and religious dimension of the finds. Tacitus’ account of Veleda resembles the Southern Scandinavian war booty offerings on several counts. Additionally, there are obvious parallels between Veleda and the other Germanic prophetesses, on the one hand, and a large number of female characters in Old Norse written sources on Pre-Christian mythology, on the other. These similarities may be rooted in a shared conceptualisation of the influence of the divine powers on the outcome of a battle, of the predictability of the will of these powers and how appreciation could be expressed to such powers or to the ones who had communicated their will. The example of Veleda can be seen, like the later written accounts of Vølvas, Norns, Valkyries and other mythological beings, as a distant echo of this concept; it presumably belongs to the oldest strata of Pre- Christian cosmology reflected in our written sources. The historical sources can be seen as mirroring a past cognitive reality and religious world view; according to which female beings, both as religious specialists and as mythological characters, fulfilled a crucial role in the context of coercion, war and death. Against this background, one may ask whether the war booty offerings can be interpreted as reflecting votive offerings relating to religious specialists who were incorporated into preparation of the military campaign. Additionally, one may ask whether the nameless war god, to whom the war booty offerings are traditionally thought to have been dedicated, may also be sought among the various female beings mentioned in Classical and later Old Norse sources. These sources mirror a mythological conceptualisation of wells, lakes and bogs as not merely transitional zones or entrances to the supernatural, but as the very dwelling place of various mythological beings. Against this background, the changing context of votive activities in Scandinavia, practised in both wetland environments and in the context of settlements, may have been rooted in the dualism of a female and masculine sphere in religious and military practice.Andres Sieg fried DobatMoesgård Museum/Aarhus Universitet

Scholars of Arnold Bax have long acknowledged the influence of the Irish Literary Revival on the composer’s compositional output up to about 1920, of Sibelius from the late 1920s onwards, and of the continuity of styles between these two periods. In this article I argue that this continuity relies on what Bax draws from early Yeats, which is less Celtic mythology or folklore than a particular way of imagining nature; that Bax’s use as a compositional stimulus of what he called the ‘Celtic North’ (essentially the landscapes of western Ireland and north-western Scotland) had parallels in the literature and art of 1920s Ireland; and that the ‘Celtic North’ offers a means of critiquing inter-war English pastoralism, which has traditionally been associated with what Alun Howkins, after Hilaire Belloc, has called the ‘South Country’. Bax thus offers a musical engagement with nature that is essentially dystopian, sublime and (within the discourse of British pastoralism) non-Anglo Saxon.

The article is devoted to the historical analysis of the image of the elves based on the mythological logic of the ancient Celts and the transformation of these images in the visual arts. This is due to the growing interest of the artists of Celtic mythology, fairy tales, fantasy, mythological beings, in particular, the elves. The images of elves in the visual arts of the present are analyzed.

Olde Throne is a solo black metal project created by Harrison McKenzie, a young musician from Christchurch. The main theme of his music production is Scottish and Irish history and mythology, more generally themes related to Celtic culture. After spending time in 2019 in Scotland, Harrison McKenzie became increasingly interested in the history and mythology of this land far from his native home. He felt a strong emotional connection to the past of Scottish people, in fact his surname is influenced by this ancestry. His passion for Norwegian black metal, developed in his teenage years, was linked to the search for his past, giving rise to Olde Throne’s musical proposal. This ‘Riffs’ article, developed from a textual and musical analysis and corroborated by an interview with the musician of Olde Throne, attempts to highlight how nostalgia for a past, more imagined than lived, conceals a sense of displacement that finds its way out through the aggressive and extremely emotive sounds of black metal, a musical category little practised in Christchurch. Europe, as the cradle of Scottish and Irish cultures and as an ideal place to play and experience black metal, takes shape imaginatively in the sonic and lyrical coordinates of Olde Throne’s music.

В статье оценивается вклад выдающегося ученого XX столетия Жоржа Дюмезиля в нартоведение, подчеркиваются заслуги ученого в исследовании осетинской Нартиады. Анализируются основные труды французского исследователя, в которых на осетинском материале развивалась его трехфункциональная теория, подчеркивалась прямая преемственность эпической традиции от скифов - сарматов - алан до современных осетин. Ценность представляют исследования Дюмезиля в области мифологии нартовского эпоса, характеристики основных циклов и героев сказаний. Особый интерес представляют фольклорные параллели Нартиады и эпосов европейских народов (Артуриана, кельтские и скандинавские сказания), приоритет в исследовании которых принадлежит Ж. Дюмезилю. Ученый доказывает глубокий архаизм и информативность осетинского нартовского эпоса, настаивает на скифо-аланском происхождении первоначального ядра кавказской Нартиады. Творческое наследие Ж. Дюмезиля заложило фундамент современного нартоведения. The article estimates the contribution of the outstanding scientist of the XXth century Georges Dumézil to Nart studies, accentuates the researcher’s input in studying the Ossetian Nartiada. The main works of the French scientist are analyzed, in which his trifunctional theory was developed on the Ossetian materials and the direct continuity of epic tradition from Scythians - Sarmatians - Alans to modern Ossetians was highlighted. G. Dumézil’s researches of the Nart epos’ mythology, characteristics of key cycles and legends’ heroes are of great value. Folklore parallels of Nartiada with eposes of the European peoples (Arthurian legend, Celtic and Scandinavian legends), the priority in studying of which belongs to G. Dumézil, are of special interest. The scientist proves deep archaism and informativeness of the Ossetian Nart epos, insisting on the Scythian-Alanian origin of the initial core of the Caucasian Nartiada. G. Dumézil’s creative heritage laid the foundation of modern Nart studies.

Настоящая статья посвящена сравнительно-сопоставительному анализу параллелей в способах верификации правды / правдивости, применявшихся в древних обществах северных иранцев, валлийцев и ирландцев. Наряду с традиционными спосо- бами установления бытовой или профанной правды, рассматриваются запечатленные в Нартском эпосе и в валлийской и ирландской мифологии чудесные способы верифи- кации Правды высшего порядка, относящейся к самопознанию мифологического Героя, совершающего инициационный Подвиг преодоления своей хтонической природы и под- линности его Свершения. This article is devoted to a comparative analysis of the parallels in the methods of verifi cation of truth / veracity used in the ancient societies of the northern Iranians, Welsh and Irish.Along with the traditional methods of establishing everyday or profane truth, we consider the wonderful ways of verifying the Truth of the highest order, recorded in the Nart epic and in Welsh and Irish mythology, related to the self-knowledge of the mythological Hero who performs the initiatory Feat of overcoming his chthonic nature and the authenticity of his Accomplishment. This work is a commentary on the article «Partholón» in the Etymological Dictionary of Celtic Theonyms» by V. P. Kalygin, in which an outstanding Soviet celtologist examines the mythological image of Partholón and identifi es the problem of Partholón associated with the ambiguity of ethnicity and the origin of the name of the hero of Irish and Welsh legends. The author of the commentary offers a solution to the Partholón problem based on a comparative analysis of sources on the ancient history of the British Isles and historical data on the Cimmerians and Scythians in the Anterior and Minor Asia in the VII-VI centuries BC. The article discusses the arguments in favor of the Cimmerian origin of Partholón and the fi rst inhabitants of the British Isles, and for the fi rst time a hypothesis is put forward about the Cimmerian origin of the name Partholón.

Фигура старухи имеет в эпосе «Сасна црер» довольно богатый набор мотивов и функций, проявляясь во всех его четырех ветвях. Образ Артатер Парав (хозяйки поля-старухи) выделяется в третьей ветви эпоса устойчивыми мотивами и важной ролью. По своему отношению к полевым работам, а также по другим признакам эта фигура имеет сходство с богинями Деметрой и Анаит, кельтской богиней Старухой-Матерью Тайтиун и знаменитой Старухой Гекалес в греческой мифологии. В эпосе «Сасна црер» Артатер Парав характеризуется многообразием функций, проявляется как в образе женщины с жизненным опытом, так и в образе заботливой матери, а также имеет общие черты с поучающей старухой из сказки. Старуха – персонаж Старой Матери, которая подталкивает Дaвида к испытаниям на пути от юности к зрелости, от невежества к осознанию ответственности. Образ Артатер Парав, как и ряд ее параллелей, включает в себя характеристики почвы, земли, растительности, плодородия, а во взаимоотношениях с богатырским Младенцем она представляет характеристики исполнителя обряда освящения, а также матери-наставницы или приемной матери. Старуха также является той, кто верит в божественную, небесную силу героя и освящает его. В «Сасна црер» Артатер Парав подчинена эпическим диктатам эпоса, эпическим формам характеристики, функций и конечной цели героя, действующего в третьей ветви. Исключительная роль Артатер Парав в третьей ветви эпоса показывает связь Старухи с культовыми слоями земли. The figure of an old woman in the epic “Sasna Tsrer” has a rather rich set of motifs and functions manifesting itself in all four branches of the epic. The image of Artater Parav (the mistress of the field - the old woman) stands out in the third branch of the epic with stable motifs and an important role. In her attitude to field work, as well as in other ways, this figure resembles the goddesses Demeter and Anahit, the Celtic goddess Old Mother Taitiun and the famous Old Woman Hecales in Greek mythology. In the epic "Sasna Tsrer", the image of Artater Parav has an interesting development and is characterized by a variety of functions. She manifests herself both in the image of a woman with life experience and in the image of a caring mother; she has common features with the instructive old woman from the fairy tale. The old woman is an Old- Mother character who pushes David through purification tests on the way from youth to maturity, from ignorance to awareness of responsibility. The image of Artater Parav, as well as a number of her parallels, includes the characteristics of soil, land, vegetation, fertility, while in her relationship with the heroic Infant, she represents the characteristics of the performer of the rite of consecration, as well as the mother-mentor or foster mother. The old woman is also the one who believes in the divine, heavenly power of the hero and sanctifies him. In the epic “Sasna Tsrer”, Artater Parav is subject to the plot dictates of the epic, the epic forms of characterization, the functions and the final goal of the hero acting in the third branch. The exclusive role of Artater Parav in the third branch of the epic shows the connection of the Old Woman with the cult layers of the earth.

Contemporary culinary discourse in Australia has been dominated by the notion that migration and the increased mobility of Australians is responsible for filling a culinary void, as though, because we have had no peasantry we have no affinity with either the land or its produce. This argument serves to alienate Australians of British descent and its validity is open to questioning. It's an argument in urgent need of debate because cuisine stands out as the signifier of a 'multicultural' nation. Despite all the political posturing, food has 'long been the acceptable face of multiculturalism' (Gunew 13). We argue that the rhetoric of multiculturalism serves to widen the chasm between Australians of British descent and other migrants by encouraging the 'us' and 'them' mentality. We have examined the common links in the food stories of three women from disparate backgrounds. The sample is small in quantitative terms but we felt that if the culinary histories of just three women ran counter to the dominant discourse, then they would provide a new point of departure. In doing this we hope to question the precept driving culinary discourse which gives more weight to what men have said and done, than what women have cooked and how; and propagates mythologies about the eating habits of 'ethnic' migrants. Multiculturalism The terminology surrounding policies that seek to manage difference and diversity is culturally loaded and tends to perpetuate binaries. "Multiculturalism, circulates in Australia as a series of discursive formations serving a variety of institutional interests" (Gunew 256). In Australia multicultural policy seeks to "manage our cultural diversity so that the social cohesion of our nation is preserved" (Advisory Council on Multicultural Affairs 4). The result is to allow diversity that is sanctioned and is to some extent homogenised, while difference is not understood and is contained (see Newman). Multicultural? Who does it include and exclude? Gunew points out that official formulations of multiculturalism exclude people of 'Anglo-Celtic' origin, as though they had no 'ethnicity'. Multiculturalism, while addressing some of the social problems of immigration, is propelled at government level by our need for national cultural policy (see Stratton and Ang). To have a national cultural policy you need, it would seem, a film industry, a music industry, and a cuisine. In his history of Australian cuisine, Symons has only briefly alluded to women's role in the development of Australia's 'industrial cuisine'. One Continuous Picnic presents an essentially masculinist history, a pessimistic derogatory view giving little value to domestic traditions passed from mother to daughter. Women are mentioned only as authors of cookbooks produced throughout the 19th century and as the housewives whose role in the 1950s changed due to the introduction of labour-saving devices. Scant reference is made to the pre-eminent icon of Australian rural culinary history, the Country Women's Association1 and their recipe books. These books have gone through numerous editions from the 1920s, but Symons refers to them dismissively as a 'plain text' arising from the 'store-shelf of processed ingredients' (Symons 201). What of the 'vegie' patch, the afternoon tea? These traditions are mentioned, but only in passing. The products of arduous and loving baking are belittled as 'pretty things'. Is this because they are too difficult to document or because they are women's business? Female writers Barbara Santich and Marion Halligan have both written on the importance of these traditions in the lives of Australian women. Symons's discourse concentrates on 'industrial cuisine', but who is to say that its imperatives were not transgressed. The available data derives from recipe books, sales figures and advertising, but we don't actually know how much food came from other sources. Did your grandmother keep chickens? Did your grandfather fish? Terra Australis Culinae Nullius2 Michael Symons's precept is: This is the only continent which has not supported an agrarian society ... . Our land missed that fertile period when agriculture and cooking were created. There has never been the creative interplay between society and the soil. Almost no food has ever been grown by the person who eats it, almost no food has been preserved in the home and indeed, very little preparation is now done by a family cook. This is the uncultivated continent. Our history is without peasants. (10, our emphasis) This notion of terra Australis culinae nullius is problematic on two levels. The use of the word indigenous implies both Aboriginal and British settler culinary tradition. This statement consequently denies both traditional Aboriginal knowledge and the British traditions. The importance of Aboriginal foodways, their modern exploitation and their impact on the future of Australian cuisine needs recognition, but the complexity of the issue places it beyond the bounds of this paper. Symons's view of peasantry is a romanticised one, and says less about food and more about nostalgia for a more permanent, less changing environment. Advertising of 'ethnic' food routinely exploits this nostalgia by appropriating the image of the cheerful peasant. These advertisements perpetuate the mythologies that link pastoral images with 'family values'. These myths, or what Barthes describes as 'cultural truths', hold that migrant families all have harmonious relationships, are benevolently patriarchal and they all sit down to eat together. 'Ethnic' families are at one with the land and use recipes made from fresher, more natural produce, that are handed down through the female line and have had the benefit of generations of culinary wisdom. (See Gallegos & Mansfield.) So are the culinary traditions of Australians of British descent so different from those of migrant families? Joan, born near her home in Cunderdin in the Western Australian wheatbelt, grew up on a farm in reasonably prosperous circumstances with her six siblings. After marrying, she remained in the Cunderdin area to continue farming. Giovanna was born in 1915 on a farm four kilometres outside Vasto, in the Italian region of Abruzzi. One of seven children, her father died when she was young and at the age of twenty, she came to Australia to marry a Vastese man 12 years her senior. Maria was born in Madeira in 1946, in a coastal village near the capital Funchal. Like Giovanna she is the fifth of seven children and arrived in Australia at the age of twenty to marry. We used the information elicited from these three women to scrutinise some of the mythology surrounding ethnic families. Myth 1: 'Ethnic' families all eat together. All three women said their families had eaten together in the past and it was Joan who commented that what was missing in Australia today was people sitting down together to share a meal. Joan's farming community all came in for an extended midday meal from necessity, as the horses needed to be rested. Both women described radio, television, increasing work hours and different shifts as responsible for the demise of the family meal. Commensality is one of the common boundary markers for all groups 'indicating a kind of equality, peership, and the promise of further kinship links stemming from the intimate acts of dining together' (Nash 11). It is not only migrant families who eat together, and the demise of the family meal is more widely felt. Myth 2: Recipes in 'ethnic' families are passed down from generation to generation. Handing recipes down from generation to generation is not limited to just 'ethnic' families. All three women describe learning to cook from their mothers. Giovanna and Maria had hands-on experiences at very young ages, cooking for the family out of necessity. Joan did not have to cook for her family but her mother still taught her basic cookery as well as the finer points. The fluidity of the mother-daughter identity is expressed and documented by the handing on of recipes. Joan's community thought the recipes important enough to document in a written form, and so the West Australian version of the CWA cookbook became a reality. Joan, when asked about why the CWA developed a cookbook, replied that they wanted to record the recipes that were all well tried by women who spent the bulk of their days in the kitchen, cooking. Being taught to cook, teaching your children to cook and passing on recipes crosses borders, and does not serve to create or maintain boundaries. Myth 3: 'Ethnic' food is never prepared from processed products but always from homegrown produce. During their childhoods the range of food items purchased by the families was remarkably similar for all three women. All described buying tinned fish, rice and sugar, while the range of items produced from what was grown reflected common practices for the use and preservation of fresh produce. The major difference was the items that were in abundance, so while Joan describes pickling meat in addition to preserving fruits, Maria talks about preserving fish and Giovanna vegetables. The traditions developed around what was available. Joan and her family grew the food that they ate, preserved the food in their own home, and the family cook did all the preparation. To suggest they did not have a creative interplay with the soil is suggesting that they were unskilled in making a harsh landscape profitable. Joan's family could afford to buy more food items than the other families. Given the choice both Giovanna's and Maria's families would have only been too eager to make their lives easier. For example, on special occasions when the choice was available Giovanna's family chose store-bought pasta. The perception of the freshness and tastiness of peasant cuisine and affinity with the land obscures the issue, which for much of the world is still quantity, not quality. It would seem that these women's stories have points of reference. All three women describe the sense of community food engendered. They all remember sharing and swapping recipes. This sense of community was expressed by the sharing of food -- regardless of how little there was or what it was. The legacy lives on, while no longer feeling obliged to provide an elaborate afternoon tea as she did in her married life, visitors to Joan's home arrive to the smell of freshly baked biscuits shared over a cup of tea or coffee. Giovanna is only too eager to share her Vastese cakes with a cup of espresso coffee, and as new acquaintances we are obliged to taste each of the five different varieties of cakes and take some home. Maria, on the other hand, offered instant coffee and store-bought biscuits; having worked outside the home all her life and being thirty years younger than the other women, is this perhaps the face of modernity? The widespread anticipation of the divisions between these women has more to do with power relationships and the politics of east, west, north, south than with the realities of everyday life. The development of a style of eating will depend on your knowledge both as an individual and as a collective, the ingredients that are available at any one time, the conditions under which food has to be grown, and your own history. For the newly-arrived Southern Europeans meat was consumed in higher quantities because its availability was restricted in their countries of origin, to eat meat regularly was to increase your status in society. Interest in 'ethnic' food and its hybridisation is a global phenomenon and the creolisation of eating has been described both in America (see Garbaccia) and in Britain (James 81). The current obsession with the 'ethnic' has more to do with nostalgia than tolerance. The interviews which were conducted highlight the similarities between three women from different backgrounds despite differences in age and socioeconomic status. Our cuisine is in the process of hybridisation, but let us not forget who is manipulating this process and the agendas under which it is encouraged. To lay claim that one tradition is wonderful, while the other either does not exist or has nothing to offer, perpetuates divisive binaries. By focussing on what these women have in common rather than their differences we begin to critically interrogate the "culinary binary". It is our intention to stimulate debate that we hope will eventually lead to the encouragement of difference rather than the futile pursuit of authenticity. Footnotes 1. The Country Women's Association is an organisation that began in Australia in the 1920s. It is still operational and has as one of its primary aims the improvement of the welfare and conditions of women and children, especially those living in the country. 2. The term terra australis nullius is used to describe Australia at the point of colonisation. The continent was regarded as "empty" because the native people had neither improved nor settled on the land. We have extended this concept to incorporate cuisine. This notion of emptiness has influenced readings of Australian history which overlook the indigenous population and their relationship with the land. References Advisory Council on Multicultural Affairs. Towards A National Agenda for a Multicultural Australia. Canberra, 1988. Barthes, Roland. Mythologies. Trans. A. Lavers. London: Vintage, 1993. Belasco, Warren. "Ethnic Fast Foods: The Corporate Melting Pot". Food and Foodways 2.1 (1987): 1-30. Gallegos, Danielle, and Alan Mansfield. "Eclectic Gastronomes or Conservative Eaters: What Does Advertising Say?" Nutrition Unplugged, Proceedings of the 16th Dietitians Association of Australia National Conference. Hobart: Dietitians Association of Australia, 1997. Gallegos, Danielle, and Alan Mansfield. "Screen Cuisine: The Pastes, Powders and Potions of the Mediterranean Diet". Celebrate Food, Proceedings of the 17th Dietitians Association of Australia National Conference. Sydney: Dietitians Association of Australia, 1998. Garbaccia, D.R. We Are What We Eat: Ethnic Food and the Making of Americans. Boston: Harvard UP, 1998. Gunew, Sneja. "Denaturalising Cultural Nationalisms; Multicultural Readings of 'Australia'." Nation and Narration. Ed. Homi Bhabha. London: Routledge, 1990. 245-66. Gunew, Sneja. Introduction. Feminism and the Politics of Difference. Eds. S. Gunew and A. Yeatman. Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 1993. xiii-xxv. Halligan, Marion. Eat My Words. Melbourne: Angus & Robertson, 1990. Harvey, D. The Condition of Postmodernity. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1989. James, Alison. "How British Is British Food". Food, Health and Identity. Ed. P. Caplan. London: Routledge, 1997. 71-86. Mennell, Stephen. All Manners of Food: Eating and Taste in England and France from the Middle Ages to the Present. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1996. Nash, Manning. The Cauldron of Ethnicity in the Modern World. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1989. Newman, Felicity. Didn't Your Mother Teach You Not to Talk with Your Mouth Full? Food, Families and Friction. Unpublished Masters Thesis, Murdoch University, Perth, Western Australia, 1997. Santich, Barbara. Looking for Flavour. Adelaide: Wakefield, 1996. Stratton, Jon, and Ien Ang. "Multicultural Imagined Communities: Cultural Difference and National Identity in Australia and the USA". Continuum 8.2 (1994): 124-58. Symons, Michael. One Continuous Picnic. Adelaide: Duck, 1992. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Danielle Gallegos, Felicity Newman. "What about the Women? Food, Migration and Mythology." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.7 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/women.php>. Chicago style: Danielle Gallegos, Felicity Newman, "What about the Women? Food, Migration and Mythology," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 7 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/women.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Danielle Gallegos, Felicity Newman. (1999) What about the women? Food, migration and mythology. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(7). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/women.php> ([your date of access]).

Weapons as Sign of Prestige, Ritual Attribute, and Indicator of Mutual Contacts in Barbaricum in Late Pre-Roman and Roman Periods. Not only had had weapons the practical, martial functions, but they had also played an important role in the construction and expression of the image, status in the society, identity, and mythology of the social category of warriors (Fig. 1). Swords and spears in legends and myths have their names and ‘personality’ (Fig. 2). Their symbolic functions explain the particular treatment of weapons in magic or ritual contexts, in burials or in bog offerings. Importance of weapons as indicators of social status, prestige, and also certain magical or religious content, is clearly visible in the rituals of the Germanic societies of Barbaricum in the Late Pre-Roman and Roman Period. The Przeworsk culture materials are highly suitable for such studies, as the burial rites of that culture involved depositing large numbers of weapons in graves. Another, complementary source of information, are written sources; most important among them is “Germania“ by Tacitus.For the Przeworsk culture population the main and most important part of military equipment was aspear. This is confirmed by the archaeological finds: spearheads are the most numerous militaria found in burials. According to “Germania“, weapons were treated as indicators of free warriors and strong carriers of symbolic meanings. That is why the heads of shafted weapons (spears and javelins) are often decorated. The types of ornamentation were adapted from Celts – richly decorated specimens are known from the La Tène culture (Fig. 3)– but, most probably, executed by local smiths (Fig. 4:1). Spearheads dated to the Roman Period, were often decorated with incised zigzags (Fig. 4:6). Agroup of artefacts with inlaid ornament of special signs and complicated motifs (circles, crescents, triskelions, triangles, double forks) are known from the Roman Period (Figs. 4:2–5). One cannot comprehend their meaning today, but the repetitiveness of certain motifs may indicate that this type of ornament was not accidental, but had aparticular meaning. Some of these signs are similar to Sarmatian tamgas, what could be aresult of various contacts and interactions with the Sarmatian people. Afew artefacts were equipped with runic inscriptions (Fig. 4:8), which could be aname of the owner, or name of the weapon, or of the smith, who manufactured it. Besides these spectacular ornaments, there are less visible but important marks placed on sockets. Some spearheads were provided with small holes on socket joints, which could have been used to fix some organic pennants (Fig. 4:7). The signs placed on heads were probably supposed to fulfil amagical, protective function, maybe increasing effectiveness of the weapon. The richly decorated spears probably also had aspecial use in some ritual practices, during gatherings, things, maybe weddings, and brotherhood pledges. They could have served as military standards.Shields were most probably also decorated, but organic materials – wood and leather – could survive only in very specific conditions e.g. bogs. From other sites only metal fittings are known. Ceremonial shields with bosses, grips or edge fittings made of precious metals, often with additional decorations, come from the graves of local aristocrats (Fig. 5:1). Interesting is the fact of decorating grips – that is the elements of ashield invisible from the outside (Fig. 5:2).Asword remained an elite, important, and, perhaps, expensive weapon. Celtic swords and scabbards were very richly decorated with ornaments of great aesthetic value, and at the same time having asignificant symbolic meaning, e.g. adragon pair motif, which, probably, performed an apotropaic function, but could have also been asign of having belonged to aspecific elite of warriors, asymbol of rank and military successes (Fig. 6). Roman swords were sometimes decorated with inlay – mainly depictions of deities: Mars and Victoria, or symbols of victory, such as wreath or palm branch, clearly visible only by the person holding the sword. They probably served as amagical protection (Fig. 7:1, 2). One of the most interesting motifs reflecting aspecific aesthetics and symbolism of the military elite are stylised representations of ravens. Like other animals, which accompany the battle, feeding on the dead, they were guides on the way to Valhalla (Figs. 7:3, 4).Despite the obvious differences in the panoply of warriors of various groups or tribes, recorded as differences of archaeological cultures, it is difficult to clearly state to what extent the type of used weapons could be asign of identity, belonging to aspecific ethnic group. An interesting proof that Roman armourers respect the preferences of their clients is aunique scabbard of unknown provenience, now in the Römisch-Germanisches Zentralmuseum in Mainz. It has arich figural decoration divided into fields, two of which: with agriffon and arider, are of east Celtic or Thracian origin. The other representations are in the Roman style: afigure of anude deity and arepresentation of an emperor (Fig. 8). It may be treated as aspecial gift produced in the Roman workshop for aCeltic or Thracian ally.In the armament of the Przeworsk culture, apart from the obvious imports from the Roman Empire, one can point to military items from other regions inside the Barbaricum. e.g. from Scandinavia. Exchange of weapons, ceremonial gifts, could result in acquisition of ‘foreign’ items. Inter-tribal contacts of military elites, mostly retinues, are confirmed also by the Tacitus’ Germania. An excellent example of the mobility of groups of warriors is the extremely interesting small grave field dated to the Late Pre-Roman Period, in Mutyn (northern Ukraine).Indication of contacts of the military elites are the ceremonial weapons clearly suggesting the high status of the owner/user. As an example can serve shields from the Early Roman Period with rich decoration of elaborated silver fittings known from the Przeworsk culture, northern Germany, Denmark, and Norway (Fig. 9).The association of certain types of military objects with specific regions has become the basis for attempts to recreate certain historical events. This is especially true of finds from Danish bog deposits in which, at least in some stages of use, weapons of the defeated invaders were laid.An extremely interesting example of aunique weapons, that allows to trace long--distance contacts, are very specific spearheads, the blades of which were made of fragments of broken swords mounted in acut socket. The manufacturing technique itself – inserting the blade into aslot cut in the socket – is known from Hunnic-Sarmatian sites from southern Russia, Caucasus, and western Kazakhstan (Fig. 10). Re-making asword into aspearhead possibly had more than just apractical reason – the aim was to preserve the damaged sword, perhaps avaluable heirloom. Reforging of abroken precious sword into aspear is mentioned in the saga of Gísli Súrsson.Weapons played important role in burial rites, as an indicator of social status, and had perhaps also acertain magical or religious meaning. Avery interesting procedure – intentional depositing of the remains of one deceased inside amuch earlier grave – was observed in the burial ground in Oblin, distr. Garwolin. The care taken in burying agreat warrior/leader, whose rank is confirmed by the exceptional set of weapons, in aburial of agreat warrior/leader from the earlier times, indicates the importance of the military elites (Fig. 11).The military equipment deposited in graves was, in accordance with the burial rites, destroyed, yet the form and degree of the damage was different (Fig. 12). The phenomenon of ritual destruction of weapons has been the subject of many analyses and various attempts have been made to explain it e.g. as practice to avoid stealing valuable items or to protect from the coming back of ‘living dead’. The most likely explanation is ‘killing’ the object, so that it could advance to the afterlife with its owner.Another interesting ritual observed at the Przeworsk culture cemeteries is sticking spearheads (originally spears) in the walls or bottom of grave pits or piercing the burned bones in an urn. The meaning of such ritual is not clear: maybe it was away to connect the dead with the underground realm of the death or prevent them from coming back as ‘walking dead’? Another, less convincing possibility is that the shafts of the stuck spears were left above, to mark the grave (Figs. 13, 14:1–5). Arare practice was observed in the Late Pre-Roman time – asword was carefully placed along the very edge of the grave pit, forming aborder between the filling of the grave and sand outside (Fig. 14:6). Shields also served as important element of aburial rite. Shield-bosses were found, placed spike down beneath an urn or, in other cases, they covered the vessel, what, probably can be understood as magical protection (Fig. 14:7–9). At the Przeworsk culture burial grounds shield-bosses were sometimes used as containers for remains of the deceased, small pieces of grave goods, and burned bones, so they functioned as urns (Fig. 15). Unique finds of helmets, one from Siemiechów, distr. Łask, other two from the cemetery Mutyn in Ukraine also served as urns (Fig. 16).As aresult of ritual treatment should be interpreted finds of fragments of broken weapons deliberately placed in graves, often burials of small children. The apotropaic meaning of those artefacts in graves seems most obvious, however the pars pro toto interpretation is not impossible. In the cemetery in Opatów, distr. Kłobuck, in grave 1186, achild was furnished with niello inlaid box-shaped chape of Roman scabbard, which most probably was treated as an amulet (Fig. 17:1). In some cases the primary function of weapons was changed. In afew female burials the strips of the chain-mail with attached miniatures of shields and tools were found. They can be treated as parts of women’s attire, but it is more probable that ring-mail fragments were used as amulets (Fig. 17:2, 3).Another special treatment of weapons as the ‘rite matter’ are finds of offerings. Military equipment was deposited in bogs, lakes or rivers – and is interpreted as offerings for gods. Finds from rivers are not numerous, in most cases represented by single swords, some with scabbards and some without. Most probably this idea was adopted, among many others, from the Celts (Fig. 18).

Introduction One of the ways in which ‘country’ is made to work discursively is in ‘country music’ – defining a genre and sensibility in music production, marketing and consumption. This article seeks to excavate one small niche in the historical geography of country music to explore exactly how discursive antecedents emerged, and crucially, how images associated with ‘country’ surfaced and travelled internationally via one of the new ‘global’ media of the first half of the twentieth century – sheet music. My central arguments are twofold: first, that alongside aural qualities and lyrical content, the visual elements of sheet music were important and thus far have been under-acknowledged. Sheet music diffused the imagery connecting ‘country’ to music, to particular landscapes, and masculinities. In the literature on country music much emphasis has been placed on film, radio and television (Tichi; Peterson). Yet, sheet music was for several decades the most common way people bought personal copies of songs they liked and intended to play at home on piano, guitar or ukulele. This was particularly the case in Australia – geographically distant, and rarely included in international tours by American country music stars. Sheet music is thus a rich text to reveal the historical contours of ‘country’. My second and related argument is that that the possibilities for the globalising of ‘country’ were first explored in music. The idea of transnational discourses associated with ‘country’ and ‘rurality’ is relatively new (Cloke et al; Gorman-Murray et al; McCarthy), but in music we see early evidence of a globalising discourse of ‘country’ well ahead of the time period usually analysed. Accordingly, my focus is on the sheet music of country songs in Australia in the first half of the twentieth century and on how visual representations hybridised travelling themes to create a new vernacular ‘country’ in Australia. Creating ‘Country’ Music Country music, as its name suggests, is perceived as the music of rural areas, “defined in contrast to metropolitan norms” (Smith 301). However, the ‘naturalness’ of associations between country music and rurality belies a history of urban capitalism and the refinement of deliberate methods of marketing music through associated visual imagery. Early groups wore suits and dressed for urban audiences – but then altered appearances later, on the insistence of urban record companies, to emphasise rurality and cowboy heritage. Post-1950, ‘country’ came to replace ‘folk’ music as a marketing label, as the latter was considered to have too many communistic references (Hemphill 5), and the ethnic mixing of earlier folk styles was conveniently forgotten in the marketing of ‘country’ music as distinct from African American ‘race’ and ‘r and b’ music. Now an industry of its own with multinational headquarters in Nashville, country music is a ‘cash cow’ for entertainment corporations, with lower average production costs, considerable profit margins, and marketing advantages that stem from tropes of working class identity and ‘rural’ honesty (see Lewis; Arango). Another of country music’s associations is with American geography – and an imagined heartland in the colonial frontier of the American West. Slippages between ‘country’ and ‘western’ in music, film and dress enhance this. But historical fictions are masked: ‘purists’ argue that western dress and music have nothing to do with ‘country’ (see truewesternmusic.com), while recognition of the Spanish-Mexican, Native American and Hawaiian origins of ‘cowboy’ mythology is meagre (George-Warren and Freedman). Similarly, the highly international diffusion and adaptation of country music as it rose to prominence in the 1940s is frequently downplayed (Connell and Gibson), as are the destructive elements of colonialism and dispossession of indigenous peoples in frontier America (though Johnny Cash’s 1964 album The Ballads Of The American Indian: Bitter Tears was an exception). Adding to the above is the way ‘country’ operates discursively in music as a means to construct particular masculinities. Again, linked to rural imagery and the American frontier, the dominant masculinity is of rugged men wrestling nature, negotiating hardships and the pressures of family life. Country music valorises ‘heroic masculinities’ (Holt and Thompson), with echoes of earlier cowboy identities reverberating into contemporary performance through dress style, lyrical content and marketing imagery. The men of country music mythology live an isolated existence, working hard to earn an income for dependent families. Their music speaks to the triumph of hard work, honest values (meaning in this context a musical style, and lyrical concerns that are ‘down to earth’, ‘straightforward’ and ‘without pretence’) and physical strength, in spite of neglect from national governments and uncaring urban leaders. Country music has often come to be associated with conservative politics, heteronormativity, and whiteness (Gibson and Davidson), echoing the wider politics of ‘country’ – it is no coincidence, for example, that the slogan for the 2008 Republican National Convention in America was ‘country first’. And yet, throughout its history, country music has also enabled more diverse gender performances to emerge – from those emphasising (or bemoaning) domesticity; assertive femininity; creative negotiation of ‘country’ norms by gay men; and ‘alternative’ culture (captured in the marketing tag, ‘alt.country’); to those acknowledging white male victimhood, criminality (‘the outlaw’), vulnerability and cruelty (see Johnson; McCusker and Pecknold; Saucier). Despite dominant tropes of ‘honesty’, country music is far from transparent, standing for certain values and identities, and yet enabling the construction of diverse and contradictory others. Historical analysis is therefore required to trace the emergence of ‘country’ in music, as it travelled beyond America. A Note on Sheet Music as Media Source Sheet music was one of the main modes of distribution of music from the 1930s through to the 1950s – a formative period in which an eclectic group of otherwise distinct ‘hillbilly’ and ‘folk’ styles moved into a single genre identity, and after which vinyl singles and LP records with picture covers dominated. Sheet music was prevalent in everyday life: beyond radio, a hit song was one that was widely purchased as sheet music, while pianos and sheet music collections (stored in a piece of furniture called a ‘music canterbury’) in family homes were commonplace. Sheet music is in many respects preferable to recorded music as a form of evidence for historical analysis of country music. Picture LP covers did not arrive until the late 1950s (by which time rock and roll had surpassed country music). Until then, 78 rpm shellac discs, the main form of pre-recorded music, featured generic brown paper sleeves from the individual record companies, or city retail stores. Also, while radio was clearly central to the consumption of music in this period, it obviously also lacked the pictorial element that sheet music could provide. Sheet music bridged the music and printing industries – the latter already well-equipped with colour printing, graphic design and marketing tools. Sheet music was often literally crammed with information, providing the researcher with musical notation, lyrics, cover art and embedded advertisements – aural and visual texts combined. These multiple dimensions of sheet music proved useful here, for clues to the context of the music/media industries and geography of distribution (for instance, in addresses for publishers and sheet music retail shops). Moreover, most sheet music of the time used rich, sometimes exaggerated, images to convince passing shoppers to buy songs that they had possibly never heard. As sheet music required caricature rather than detail or historical accuracy, it enabled fantasy without distraction. In terms of representations of ‘country’, then, sheet music is perhaps even more evocative than film or television. Hundreds of sheet music items were collected for this research over several years, through deliberate searching (for instance, in library archives and specialist sheet music stores) and with some serendipity (for instance, when buying second hand sheet music in charity shops or garage sales). The collected material is probably not representative of all music available at the time – it is as much a specialised personal collection as a comprehensive survey. However, at least some material from all the major Australian country music performers of the time were found, and the resulting collection appears to be several times larger than that held currently by the National Library of Australia (from which some entries were sourced). All examples here are of songs written by, or cover art designed for Australian country music performers. For brevity’s sake, the following analysis of the sheet music follows a crudely chronological framework. Country Music in Australia Before ‘Country’ Country music did not ‘arrive’ in Australia from America as a fully-finished genre category; nor was Australia at the time without rural mythology or its own folk music traditions. Associations between Australian national identity, rurality and popular culture were entrenched in a period of intense creativity and renewed national pride in the decades prior to and after Federation in 1901. This period saw an outpouring of art, poetry, music and writing in new nationalist idiom, rooted in ‘the bush’ (though drawing heavily on Celtic expressions), and celebrating themes of mateship, rural adversity and ‘battlers’. By the turn of the twentieth century, such myths, invoked through memory and nostalgia, had already been popularised. Australia had a fully-established system of colonies, capital cities and state governments, and was highly urbanised. Yet the poetry, folk music and art, invariably set in rural locales, looked back to the early 1800s, romanticising bush characters and frontier events. The ‘bush ballad’ was a central and recurring motif, one that commentators have argued was distinctly, and essentially ‘Australian’ (Watson; Smith). Sheet music from this early period reflects the nationalistic, bush-orientated popular culture of the time: iconic Australian fauna and flora are prominent, and Australian folk culture is emphasised as ‘native’ (being the first era of cultural expressions from Australian-born residents). Pioneer life and achievements are celebrated. ‘Along the road to Gundagai’, for instance, was about an iconic Australian country town and depicted sheep droving along rustic trails with overhanging eucalypts. Male figures are either absent, or are depicted in situ as lone drovers in the archetypal ‘shepherd’ image, behind their flocks of sheep (Figure 1). Figure 1: No. 1 Magpie Ballads – The Pioneer (c1900) and Along the road to Gundagai (1923). Further colonial ruralities developed in Australia from the 1910s to 1940s, when agrarian values grew in the promotion of Australian agricultural exports. Australia ‘rode on the sheep’s back’ to industrialisation, and governments promoted rural development and inland migration. It was a period in which rural lifestyles were seen as superior to those in the crowded inner city, and government strategies sought to create a landed proletariat through post-war land settlement and farm allotment schemes. National security was said to rely on populating the inland with those of European descent, developing rural industries, and breeding a healthier and yet compliant population (Dufty), from which armies of war-ready men could be recruited in times of conflict. Popular culture served these national interests, and thus during these decades, when ‘hillbilly’ and other North American music forms were imported, they were transformed, adapted and reworked (as in other places such as Canada – see Lehr). There were definite parallels in the frontier narratives of the United States (Whiteoak), and several local adaptations followed: Tex Morton became Australia’s ‘Yodelling boundary rider’ and Gordon Parsons became ‘Australia’s yodelling bushman’. American songs were re-recorded and performed, and new original songs written with Australian lyrics, titles and themes. Visual imagery in sheet music built upon earlier folk/bush frontier themes to re-cast Australian pastoralism in a more settled, modernist and nationalist aesthetic; farms were places for the production of a robust nation. Where male figures were present on sheet music covers in the early twentieth century, they became more prominent in this period, and wore Akubras (Figure 2). The lyrics to John Ashe’s Growin’ the Golden Fleece (1952) exemplify this mix of Australian frontier imagery, new pastoralist/nationalist rhetoric, and the importation of American cowboy masculinity: Go west and take up sheep, man, North Queensland is the shot But if you don’t get rich, man, you’re sure to get dry rot Oh! Growin’ the golden fleece, battlin’ a-way out west Is bound to break your flamin’ heart, or else expand your chest… We westerners are handy, we can’t afford to crack Not while the whole darn’d country is riding on our back Figure 2: Eric Tutin’s Shearers’ Jamboree (1946). As in America, country music struck a chord because it emerged “at a point in history when the project of the creation and settlement of a new society was underway but had been neither completed nor abandoned” (Dyer 33). Governments pressed on with the colonial project of inland expansion in Australia, despite the theft of indigenous country this entailed, and popular culture such as music became a means to normalise and naturalise the process. Again, mutations of American western imagery, and particular iconic male figures were important, as in Roy Darling’s (1945) Overlander Trail (Figure 3): Wagon wheels are rolling on, and the days seem mighty long Clouds of heat-dust in the air, bawling cattle everywhere They’re on the overlander trail Where only sheer determination will prevail Men of Aussie with a job to do, they’ll stick and drive the cattle through And though they sweat they know they surely must Keep on the trail that winds a-head thro’ heat and dust All sons of Aussie and they will not fail. Sheet music depicted silhouetted men in cowboy hats on horses (either riding solo or in small groups), riding into sunsets or before looming mountain ranges. Music – an important part of popular culture in the 1940s – furthered the colonial project of invading, securing and transforming the Australian interior by normalising its agendas and providing it with heroic male characters, stirring tales and catchy tunes. Figure 3: ‘Roy Darling’s (1945) Overlander Trail and Smoky Dawson’s The Overlander’s Song (1946). ‘Country Music’ Becomes a (Globalised) Genre Further growth in Australian country music followed waves of popularity in the United States in the 1940s and 1950s, and was heavily influenced by new cross-media publicity opportunities. Radio shows expanded, and western TV shows such as Bonanza and On the Range fuelled a ‘golden age’. Australian performers such as Slim Dusty and Smokey Dawson rose to fame (see Fitzgerald and Hayward) in an era when rural-urban migration peaked. Sheet music reflected the further diffusion and adoption of American visual imagery: where male figures were present on sheet music covers, they became more prominent than before and wore Stetsons. Some were depicted as chiselled-faced but simple men, with plain clothing and square jaws. Others began to more enthusiastically embrace cowboy looks, with bandana neckerchiefs, rawhide waistcoats, embellished and harnessed tall shaft boots, pipe-edged western shirts with wide collars, smile pockets, snap fasteners and shotgun cuffs, and fringed leather jackets (Figure 4). Landscapes altered further too: cacti replaced eucalypts, and iconic ‘western’ imagery of dusty towns, deserts, mesas and buttes appeared (Figure 5). Any semblance of folk music’s appeal to rustic authenticity was jettisoned in favour of showmanship, as cowboy personas were constructed to maximise cinematic appeal. Figure 4: Al Dexter’s Pistol Packin’ Mama (1943) and Reg Lindsay’s (1954) Country and Western Song Album. Figure 5: Tim McNamara’s Hitching Post (1948) and Smoky Dawson’s Golden West Album (1951). Far from slavish mimicry of American culture, however, hybridisations were common. According to Australian music historian Graeme Smith (300): “Australian place names appear, seeking the same mythological resonance that American localisation evoked: hobos became bagmen […] cowboys become boundary riders.” Thus alongside reproductions of the musical notations of American songs by Lefty Frizzel, Roy Carter and Jimmie Rodgers were songs with localised themes by new Australian stars such as Reg Lindsay and Smoky Dawson: My curlyheaded buckaroo, My home way out back, and On the Murray Valley. On the cover of The square dance by the billabong (Figure 6) – the title of which itself was a conjunction of archetypal ‘country’ images from both America and Australia – a background of eucalypts and windmills frames dancers in classic 1940s western (American) garb. In the case of Tex Morton’s Beautiful Queensland (Figure 7), itself mutated from W. Lee O’Daniel’s Beautiful Texas (c1945), the sheet music instructed those playing the music that the ‘names of other states may be substituted for Queensland’. ‘Country’ music had become an established genre, with normative values, standardised images and themes and yet constituted a stylistic formula with enough polysemy to enable local adaptations and variations. Figure 6: The Square dance by the billabong, Vernon Lisle, 1951. Figure 7: Beautiful Queensland, Tex Morton, c1945 source: http://nla.gov.au/nla.mus-vn1793930. Conclusions In country music images of place and masculinity combine. In music, frontier landscapes are populated by rugged men living ‘on the range’ in neo-colonial attempts to tame the land and convert it to productive uses. This article has considered only one media – sheet music – in only one country (Australia) and in only one time period (1900-1950s). There is much more to say than was possible here about country music, place and gender – particularly recently, since ‘country’ has fragmented into several niches, and marketing of country music via cable television and the internet has ensued (see McCusker and Pecknold). My purpose here has been instead to explore the early origins of ‘country’ mythology in popular culture, through a media source rarely analysed. Images associated with ‘country’ travelled internationally via sheet music, immensely popular in the 1930s and 1940s before the advent of television. The visual elements of sheet music contributed to the popularisation and standardisation of genre expectations and appearances, and yet these too travelled and were adapted and varied in places like Australia which had their own colonial histories and folk music heritages. Evidenced here is how combinations of geographical and gender imagery embraced imported American cowboy imagery and adapted it to local markets and concerns. Australia saw itself as a modern rural utopia with export aspirations and a desire to secure permanence through taming and populating its inland. Sheet music reflected all this. So too, sheet music reveals the historical contours of ‘country’ as a transnational discourse – and the extent to which ‘country’ brought with it a clearly defined set of normative values, a somewhat exaggerated cowboy masculinity, and a remarkable capacity to be moulded to local circumstances. Well before later and more supposedly ‘global’ media such as the internet and television, the humble printed sheet of notated music was steadily shaping ‘country’ imagery, and an emergent international geography of cultural flows. References Arango, Tim. “Cashville USA.” Fortune, Jan 29, 2007. Sept 3, 2008, http://money.cnn.com/magazines/fortune/fortune_archive/2007/01/22/8397980/index.htm. Cloke, Paul, Marsden, Terry and Mooney, Patrick, eds. Handbook of Rural Studies, London: Sage, 2006. Connell, John and Gibson, Chris. Sound Tracks: Popular Music, Identity and Place, London: Routledge, 2003. Dufty, Rae. Rethinking the politics of distribution: the geographies and governmentalities of housing assistance in rural New South Wales, Australia, PhD thesis, UNSW, 2008. Dyer, Richard. White: Essays on Race and Culture, London: Routledge, 1997. George-Warren, Holly and Freedman, Michelle. How the West was Worn: a History of Western Wear, New York: Abrams, 2000. Fitzgerald, Jon and Hayward, Phil. “At the confluence: Slim Dusty and Australian country music.” Outback and Urban: Australian Country Music. Ed. Phil Hayward. Gympie: Australian Institute of Country Music Press, 2003. 29-54. Gibson, Chris and Davidson, Deborah. “Tamworth, Australia’s ‘country music capital’: place marketing, rural narratives and resident reactions.” Journal of Rural Studies 20 (2004): 387-404. Gorman-Murray, Andrew, Darian-Smith, Kate and Gibson, Chris. “Scaling the rural: reflections on rural cultural studies.” Australian Humanities Review 45 (2008): in press. Hemphill, Paul. The Nashville Sound: Bright Lights and Country Music, New York: Simon and Schuster, 1970. Holt, Douglas B. and Thompson, Craig J. “Man-of-action heroes: the pursuit of heroic masculinity in everyday consumption.” Journal of Consumer Research 31 (2004). Johnson, Corey W. “‘The first step is the two-step’: hegemonic masculinity and dancing in a country western gay bar.” International Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education 18 (2004): 445-464. Lehr, John C. “‘Texas (When I die)’: national identity and images of place in Canadian country music broadcasts.” The Canadian Geographer 27 (1983): 361-370. Lewis, George H. “Lap dancer or hillbilly deluxe? The cultural construction of modern country music.” Journal of Popular Culture, 31 (1997): 163-173. McCarthy, James. “Rural geography: globalizing the countryside.” Progress in Human Geography 32 (2008): 132-137. McCusker, Kristine M. and Pecknold, Diane. Eds. A Boy Named Sue: Gender and Country Music. UP of Mississippi, 2004. Peterson, Richard A. Creating Country Music: Fabricating Authenticity. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1997. Saucier, Karen A. “Healers and heartbreakers: images of women and men in country music.” Journal of Popular Culture 20 (1986): 147-166. Smith, Graeme. “Australian country music and the hillbilly yodel.” Popular Music 13 (1994): 297-311. Tichi, Cecelia. Readin’ Country Music. Durham: Duke UP, 1998. truewesternmusic.com “True western music.”, Sept 3, 2008, http://truewesternmusic.com/. Watson, Eric. Country Music in Australia. Sydney: Rodeo Publications, 1984. Whiteoak, John. “Two frontiers: early cowboy music and Australian popular culture.” Outback and Urban: Australian Country Music. Ed. P. Hayward. Gympie: AICMP: 2003. 1-28.

In the late 2010s, I owned and operated a bespoke drum-building company, and during that time, I was commissioned to build a frame drum by the partner of a musician who was also a magic practitioner. The commission was fitting despite my business not being related to magic or Paganism directly. I have been working with drum construction in all of my research projects during my academic career, a touring percussionist for decades, and the company focussed on making drums inspired by Lovecraftian narratives and Lovecraftian Futurist music. Due to the nature of Lovecraftian horror and science fiction being potentially supernatural-related, and given my performance experience and ethnomusicological background, I understood the details of the request and planned my construction in accordance with their interests. The decisions made regarding materials, style, and decorations with respect to the expected functionality, performance techniques, and desired aesthetics outlined a distinct relationship between the magical and musical qualities desired in the final product. These decisions were informed by the values upheld by the commissioner of the drum – values that parallel those of the performers, makers, and audience that make up the joint musical and magical community. The ways in which these decisions were informed, then, regulate the interactions not only with the music involved but also with the musical instruments and their construction. Perhaps this is less evident in a situation where an instrument is mass-manufactured, but taking as an example the set of decisions associated with this bespoke commission, informed by values based on a belief system and the practices associated with that belief system, a network of maker, player, and expectations of the instrument’s function can be highlighted. In turn, this raises interesting considerations about the relationship between building instruments and magic-related practices. Fig. 1: Commissioned drum that houses magical associations along with performative expectations. (Photo: Lisa Courtney) Most of the discussion herein pertains to building frame drums and my client’s interest in Wicca and Paganism, but neither magic, nor this discussion in general, need to be restricted to Wiccan, Occult, or Pagan practices exclusively. Magic in the broad context of how it can influence and inspire creative, ritual, or sonically functional practices can fall under the umbrella of Shamanism, Satanism, Spiritualism, Theosophy, Voodoo/Vodun, Taoism, Shintoism, Druidism, or any area of perceived magic (even fictional or self-constructed belief systems). Magic in the context of being a highly valued concept and concern makes magic (using any definition) relevant and a vehicle for better understanding the complex relationships between creative production and cultural, religious, and/or social values and belief systems. Drums and magic (using this broad definition) simply form an excellent, clear example of this dialectic network. Music and magic are inexorably linked together (Godwin; Connor, Sound and Musical). There are numerous accounts, both folkloric and academic, of how sonic qualities such as tempo, timbre, and pitch work in conjunction with hermetic powers, spiritual happenings, and theosophical practices through harmonic, melodic, and rhythmic means (Sharpe). Broad considerations of music and cosmology arise in Blavatsky’s esoteric instructions, functional use of music appears in the heterophonic improvisation supporting shamanic practices of Korean musok (Koudela and Yoo 94), and even the scientific explanations of Kepler link music to astronomy attempting to show the intertwined nature of music, spirituality, and the human soul. Lewis, in Witchcraft Today, cites multiple instances of music in relation to magic practice, from accompanying incantations to ritual dancing, to a long list of contemporary popular and folk music artists performing magic-related and -inspired material. The human body is sometimes used to produce this sonic enhancement or connections (Eason), but musical instruments are also used for a variety of reasons. Drums are often one of those instruments, incorporating the textures, pulses, or simply the sheer volume they can provide. Drumming is an essential part of engaging with Zangbeto, the vodun guardians of Benin (Okunola and Ojo 204); playing damaru (sometimes made from human skulls: Cupchik 34) is a highly valued musical element of Tibetan Chöd magic practices (Cupchik 34); Druidic land healing ceremonies rely on frame drums to open magic channels between the practitioner and the Earth (O’Driscoll); the original function of Czech vozembouchy was to ward off dark energies and provide protection during rituals (Connor, Constructing the Sounds 25); Korean Mudang use drums (and music/noise) to allow deities and spirits to speak through them at Gut ceremonies (Wróblewski); similarly, Tlingit Ixt (shamans) employ frame drums to both represent and conjure the ancestors about whom they are singing (Olsen 212). It probably cannot be said which came first – the intention to use percussion instruments for magical practices, then constructing them accordingly; or making percussion, then deciding these instruments are useful for magical purposes. However, recognising the influence that magic has on drum-making contemporaneously can be informative, unravelling how performance in magic-related contexts and the construction of percussive instruments designed to be used for such purposes, or those selected for their musical or magical properties, highlight a dialectic between drum-making and magic. Musical instruments are made, generally speaking, with a few common intentions in mind (Connor, Constructing Musical), then designed and built with specific performance expectations and functionalities informing the final construction (Connor, Constructing Musical). Frame drums follow this model; therefore, the commissioned drum mentioned above, where the magical element was considered a primary concern for the patron, can assist with outlining the design/maker-player-inspiration/beliefs/practice network that links them together. When starting the dialogue between maker and patron to realise the drum being commissioned, which wood should be used was the initial consideration. They wanted something “powerful” and “meaningful” but did not know what was available or would exactly match their practice interests, so I suggested some wood I had recently been given that thought might suit: a neighbour had a black walnut tree on their property which had been struck by lightning and was no longer considered safe and it was chopped down due to compromised structural integrity. Pieces of it were given to me. After describing this wood, even though all they knew about the properties of the tree was that it had been struck by lightning, the choice to use it was made instantly, citing simply the fact that it was special, had potentially absorbed the element of electricity into the element of wood, and hinting at the notion that “it was meant to be” as the reasons for incorporating the black walnut into the drum. Fig. 2: Black walnut wood from the tree struck by lightning. (Photo: author) Next was the number of sides for the drum. Most frame drums are circles or something similar, so that would count as either one-sided (not a moebius strip, but rather a simple circle) or infinite-sided (if taken as a number of infinitesimally small mini sides). As a maker, I also offered various other ‘barrel-style’ frames including 5-, 7-, 8-, 11-, and 13-sided models, each with their own Lovecraftian or related association (many of these are prime numbers, but in this case, that is irrelevant). The patron chose the 13-sided version of the barrel frame construction. The skin for the drum was not discussed, simply for the reason that options other than goat skin were more difficult to obtain and there was a time frame placed on the order, as the drum was a gift for the patron’s partner. Once the basic elements were set, we chatted about how the drum would be played, given that the performance style and playing technique would heavily inform some of the construction decisions. We also briefly mulled over the desired tone/timbral qualities, and finally the decorative aspects that would wrap up the construction decisions being made, allowing me to move forward and realise the project in accordance with the commission parameters. Each of these aspects held multiple considerations, akin to architectural design (Vitruvius; Pelletier), based on a triad of materials to be used, functionality expected, and aesthetics valued by the maker, player, and (in this case) the commissioner. The decisions made are consequential to the final design holistically and are therefore important, but of greater concern for this discussion is what informed these decisions and why. Effectively, only six decisions were made; each one was or would have been influenced by magic, affecting almost all aspects of the construction in some manner. With regards to the first decision on wood type, the black walnut was chosen, but not for its density which would have slightly increased the drum’s sustain, its availability (abundant), or discouraged for the fact that black walnut is heavy, and therefore, depending on the primary performance technique expected, the wood may have repercussions due to its sheer weight. Instead, the decision was made based on the one fact that it was struck by lightning. This gave the now-owners a sense of magical injection into the wood, and therefore drum itself. The feeling expressed was that there existed a (great) possibility that the wood, being a primary magical element that represents a connection to the Earth, stability, and the specific properties of the black walnut (Teague), was enhanced by the lightning. Various wand makers suggest that a wood type may have powers it possesses or resonates (Maclir) or links to the magical lore associated with the wood (Beggetta, Gross, and Miller; Theodore). Here, the wood was merged with or infused with another magical element, lightning, sometimes considered representative of power, energy, or brightness/purity (Teague). Whether or not these qualities were something that the patron was seeking or simply a bonus is irrelevant; the fact that the tree had been struck with lightning translated to a specific decision based on magic-related traits valued by the commissioner. The number of sides was actually suggested by me; however, to be clear, the final decision was confirmed by the patron. I offered the 13-sided barrel frame construction as a consideration based on the fact that I already offered these as part of my regular frame drum options, inspired by Lovecraftian horror narratives that include references to the number thirteen, the most recurring being “the thirteen gates of the Necronomicon” found in cosmic horror stories (Levenda; Tyson 13-21, 385-402). To be clear, although Lovecraft, Paganism, and magic are more than simply aligned (Price), Lovecraftian horror often implies magical practice diegetically, but the reader typically discovers the perceived magical elements to be something supranatural rather than supernatural, thus magic becomes explainable science, at least exegetically (Littmann). The number 13 still has relevance in the stories, where it shows up, which is why I often used the number 13 in my drum designs. However, it was another association of a 13-sided drum that aligned with the interests of the patron. In Pagan calendars, there are thirteen full moons per year—the final one serving as the mark of harvest and the new year celebrated during Samhain (Wittington). Acoustically speaking, 13 sides change the drum’s timbre (as compared to a circular frame), slightly reducing the midrange, and increasing some higher-end frequencies, but the acoustics of the instrument were of seemingly lower importance than the magical associations the 13 sides provided. For a Wiccan or Pagan, this choice of a number of sides was one of two that probably would not be ignored (the other being a 5-sided option). Playing techniques expected to be used are often a primary consideration for making instruments in my personal experience, both during my time as a frame drum maker and during my internship with a drum builder in Germany as part of my PhD research. The playing techniques expected during creative/expressive performance definitely informed the construction of the drum, but magical expectations, meaning how the drum was expected to be played during magic-related practices, were also a consideration for the expected playing technique. Factors like playing with hands only, using a beater or stick only, a combination of the two, use of finger rolls, beater position (i.e. upright like a bodhran tipper, sideways like a shaman drum, or above like a trap set or pow-wow drum), and position of the drum itself (i.e. upright holding it from underneath, resting it on the player’s knee, held between the player’s legs while seated, or being held by handle) were discussed. How the drum is going to be played for a performance partially depends on the expectation of the drum’s function musically—is the player going to stand on stage, sit in a recording studio, or participate in a ritual, for instance. In this case, there was an expectation of all three, but given the nature of the commission, that being a patron commissioning the drum as a gift for her partner as a romantic and magic-based token of affection with added functionality, the magic-related expectation became the principal influence on her decisions. In the end, the patron opted to incorporate all the possibilities for performance techniques, giving her partner the most flexibility. This decision provided her partner with the capability to participate in ritual activities easily as well as giving him ergonomically sound means to perform (creatively) with the drum in a recording or live setting. The tonal qualities of the drum were already partially decided, but one other important point was also discussed: one influenced by magic considerations. The leading edge of the drum (where the rim of the frame interacts with the skin stretched over the top of it) has several possible ways to be designed. For my drums, I offered two options that can be considered what equates to more or less the two timbral extremes: a flat leading edge similar to a typical shaman drum or bodhran, or a timpani-style leading edge that has a curved, quarter-circular rounded edge with a very small ledge underneath that. The flat edge makes the drum respond with an even set of frequencies when struck in the centre of the skin and often has a shorter sustain to the sound produced in comparison to a drum with a rounded or pointed edge (Crosby). The timpani-style edge gives an emphasis on lower frequencies, often complementing those with a highlight of high frequencies (giving the aural illusion of fewer midrange tones) and adds a fairly long sustain to the sound created (Crosby). For a creative performance-only commission, the decision would be almost entirely timbral, but for this patron, a consideration of ritual practices and magical context came into play: the lower tone expected to be provided by the timpani leading edge, combined with the longer sustain aligned with the patron’s sensibilities of how the human body may respond to those tonal qualities. Furthermore, the sheer volume was taken into account, as the loudness perceived when playing a lower-pitched drum with a greater sustain can assist with awakening spirits or deities as seen by a practitioner of Paganism (Gustafson), thereby making the timpani leading edge the appropriate choice for the commissioned drum. Visual aspects of drum construction are often almost purely aesthetic. This, however, does not exclude them from being an integral part of the drum’s construction, and in fact, they may be the initial factor to which a player or audience member reacts when first interacting with the drum. The commissioned drum already holds some aesthetic distinction, given its shape and the material choices made. Beyond that, some other visual aspects were notably influenced by the drum's expected magical association. The black walnut being used had a greyish tint to it in an unfinished state, but the suggestion I made was to finish the wood, oiling the frame instead of staining it, giving it a more or less natural finish, but much darker in hue. As far as I can tell, that was entirely a personal taste choice and not based on anything magic-related, but the other visual choices, both decorative, were definitively inspired by Pagan or Wiccan beliefs. The outside of the frame was requested to be wood burned with designs that included various sigils and markings meaningful to the patron and her partner. The sigils have a direct relationship to magic, and it was/is expected that when the drum is played, the decorations would “speak to the universe,” emanating their messages through any given ritual or performance (akin to Tibetan lungta or wind horse flags; Adalakanzhu 13). The specific meaning of the sigils is being redacted on purpose due to the private nature of their meaning; let it suffice to say that they are simultaneously magical and romantic in nature, binding the couple in various ways. Parallel to the wood burning on the side and bottom of the drum was a design made from henna on the front of the skin. The design also presented sigil and sigil-like elements alongside magic or fantastical artwork serving as a sort of cultural flag that the instrument was not only an instrument of sound creation but also one of magical practice (see figure 3). Figure 3: Decoration on the front of the commissioned drum's skin Fig. 4: Wood-burning decorations on the bottom edge of the commissioned drum This commissioned drum is not the only example of relationships between an instrument’s construction and the belief system upheld by the maker, player, and/or audience of the music made with it. Another drum I made recently was for a graduate student who obtained his master’s degree from my current university: as a congratulations gift, I built a drum for him. Upon his request, the drum was 11-sided, which aligned with some of the student’s Buddhist beliefs and practices, and also incorporated all expected playing techniques into the construction, with mainly shamanic and meditative performances in mind (see figure 5). Fig. 5: 11-sided drum built for a graduate student who is also a practicing Buddhist Another example is a 5-sided drum I created for a professional musician performing in a Neo-medievalist band with very strong Gothic and Pagan influences and aesthetics. The shape of the drum was selected for both its timbral qualities and the relation to Lovecraft and the occult, specifically a pentagram reference being made indirectly and directly (in the form of a Necronomicon symbol emblazoned on the goat-skin head; see figure 6). Fig. 6: 5-sided drum in progress (finished in 2017) Fig. 7: A commissioned 5-sided, Lovecraft and magic-inspired drum. (Note: this is not the drum mentioned above, but a different commission with similar traits) Another 13-sided drum that was also commissioned to be a prize for a contest that was Pagan and Lovecraft-related, was also decorated with a large Necronomicon symbol and other rune and rune-like sigil images (see figure 8). Fig. 8: Lovecraft-inspired drum for competition prize Even the 7-sided drum I offered had a belief system inspiration: my aunt who wanted to learn to play the bodhran, and wanted a style that showed off her religious faith, commissioned a 7-sided drum as a Christian-based frame that was just as representative of beliefs as the magical or Lovecraftian-inspired frames. In all cases of barrel-style drum frames, especially those with an odd number of sides, the timbre is affected by the overall shape and ways in which the membrane vibrates, creating a series of interference patterns that often highlight some of the upper frequencies and dampen some of the midrange frequencies simultaneously (an enhancement of the bass comes from the leading edge of the drum, as mentioned above). The point to note here is that the number of sides does slightly have acoustic considerations, but more than the sound, the number of sides has strong semiotic and visual aesthetics (plus some ergonomic factors) that inject social and (sub)cultural values into the drums via their design, which is what makes the number of sides important. Fig. 9: 7-sided drum for a Christian patron Something to which I have already alluded is the notion that values upheld by the performers, makers, and audience of a community are entangled with both the music involved and the musical instruments played and their construction. Concepts of circles can represent reincarnation, protection, cycles of celestial bodies, or notions of regeneration, and translate to frame shape or ensemble performance configurations. Drum shapes as well as skin types can influence sonic qualities that in turn evoke magical properties or specific deities/demons. Beliefs can fuel trance-inducing rhythmic patterns played until an ecstatic state is achieved by the practitioner, which practically requires consideration for performance techniques employed, and therefore instrument design. Widening the lens that focusses on the relation between drum-building and magic practices, an undertaking of any creative or design endeavour comes to light in which a level of agency decides expected functionality, materials, and aesthetics. Examining how the makers, operators, and community members involved develop the network between themselves and what they produce can highlight the perception, value, and ways in which they incorporate the world around them physically and philosophically. Acknowledgment Unless otherwise noted, all photographs by the author. References Adalakanzhu, Ella. “The Wind Horse Flag.” Skipping Stones 14.1, (2002): 13. Beggetta, Albert, Barry Gross, and James Miller. Compendium of Wooden Wand Making Techniques. Fox Chapel, 2021. 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