The Tuatha Dé Danann “form a pantheon of sorts in the medieval texts, but its borders are vague and, in comparison to the clarity of the Greek gods, its personalities are bafflingly indeterminate and continually multiplying”.
Who were these pre-Christian Irish gods? What were their names? What did they look like? Where did they live? How were they described in writing from the Middle Ages onwards? What did scholars and writers make of them?
These are among the questions this ambitious, learned and lengthy book about Ireland’s immortals grapples with. Like one of the gods, Mannanán Mac Lir, a wily shapeshifter, the topic itself is frustratingly mercurial and elusive, the range of sources vast, and the interpretations many. Mark Williams has ventured where few would dare to tread, in attempting to unravel, describe, and analyse the Irish gods and their scribes, ancient and modern.
The book is not the first account of the Irish gods. Lady Gregory, Marie-Louise Sjoestedt, Myles Dillon, Hilda Ellis Davidson, Prionsias MacCana, and several others, have written good books on the subject. But this is the first “to take in the whole sweep of Irish literature in both the nation’s languages”.
It traces the documentation of the gods of Ireland from the earliest sources to the present – starting with pre-literary archaeology, and the first medieval texts, and finishing with an alarming report about the destruction of a (modern) lifesize statue of Manannán Mac Lir, erected on the banks of the Foyle near Limavaddy. In early 2015 someone sawed off the statue at the feet and tossed it into the sea. They then put up a cross inscribed with the words ‘You shall have no other gods before me.’
Iconoclasts
The response of the iconoclasts of Limavaddy to this particular representation of a pagan Irish god resonates, but only mildly, with the ambivalent attitude of the Christian monks who, intriguingly, provide us with the medieval accounts of Manannán and his fellow immortals – false gods as far as the scribes were concerned.
Williams tracks the documentation of the pagan myths, comments on the disappearance of overt interest in the gods from the end of the Middle Ages to the 19th century, and then looks at the resurgence of attention and various reimaginings of the deities during the Celtic Revival and later.
His impressively learned book is divided into two sections. Part One deals with the medieval period, and Part Two with modern times from the Celtic Revival onwards, with particular reference to WB Yeats and George Russell. He also looks at representations of the gods in contemporary children’s literature, and in music and visual art.
The principal sources for all our information on the pre-Christian deities are the Old and Middle Irish texts usually called the Mythological Cycle, ie stories about divine beings. People are more familiar with the heroes featured in the Ulster Cycle, the most well-known being Cúchulainn, and the Fenian Cycle, tales of Fionn Mac Cumhail and the Fianna. (There is overlap, and the Fianna receive significant attention in this work.)
Myths take flight
The Mythological Cycle has always been less popular. Its stories in general are not found in 19th and 20th century folklore, and most of them have hardly penetrated contemporary popular culture – children’s books, films, etc – either because they have been forgotten. The major exception is the story of the Children of Lir.
As Williams observes, "I repeatedly found that people who were unaware of Ireland's native pantheon of deities often knew this narrative". Indeed. Everyone knows it. It is categorised as a myth because some of the largely off-stage characters, such as Lir himself, have divine traits. (I disagree with Williams' contention that this story is a religious fable invented by a monk. Many of the most memorable motifs in the tale – such as the transformation of children to swans – are common in international oral tradition. Readers will be familiar with Grimms' The Twelve Brothers, or HC Andersen's The Wild Swans. The Christian ending and the mythic introduction look like appendages to a version of the fairytale, which was well-known in Irish oral tradition.)
Who are the Irish gods? Unlike the better known Greek and Roman gods, they inconveniently lack “sharply outlined personalities”, which would help us get a grip on them. At least they have names, such as Lug, the Morrigan, Mannanán, Bodb Dearg, Oengus Óg, and Brigit. Manannán is a sea god, Oengus Óg sometimes imagined as a sort of Irish Eros, Brigit as a goddess of light and healing. But their functions change frequently, and pinning them down is tricky.
They live either around Tara, or in a sidhe – the fairy forts or raths which are such a familiar feature of the Irish landscape and where until recent times the fairies were believed to reside. Theories about the Irish fairies include a belief that they were originally the Tuatha Dé Danann, the Irish gods, who have gone underground and survived as fairies.
Academic weight
Williams hopes his book will be of interest both to the academic community and to the general reader. It is imaginative, well-written, and full of interesting information and insights about the elusive Irish gods. But its strength is also its weakness. His technique is very discursive, and he frequently enters into debate on interpretations of the material by other scholars in the field. Any reader who is not a medievalist immersed in these intricate arguments will find it difficult to appreciate or assess them. But it is hard to see how such references and discussion could be avoided.
Under the circumstances, the book is more suited to academics with knowledge of the subject than to others. This is especially true of Part One, dealing with the early sources, themselves very complex. The second part, looking at familiar writers and their work, is considerably less demanding.
But Williams has thoughtfully provided some assistance for the uninitiated. At the back of the book is a very useful list of the medieval texts cited in the work, with summaries of their contents. If you are unfamiliar with The Book of Invasions, The Colloquy of the Elders, or The Fosterage of the House of Two Vessels, for example, you would be well advised to consult this first. The volume also includes an excellent index, and a rich and useful bibliography.
Huge challenge
The author is aware that the scale of the task he has undertaken is probably excessive, and points out that each of the gods requires a full length study of his or her own. Apparently not many exist. He mentions one discrete treatment, Charles McQuarrie’s book on Manannán, and writes that Brigit would also richly deserve such an examination. In fact one has been already written by Noel Kissane, my former colleague in the National Library, and will be published in the new year by Four Courts Press.
Williams’s book is a magnificent and exciting undertaking. As he suggests, there is material for several books in his tome. I found the best way to read it was to select individual sections and concentrate on them, one at a time. Otherwise it can be hard to see the wood for the trees.
Roy Foster in his blurb remarks that the book is “unputdownable”. This is not a problem I experienced, so responses obviously depend on the reader’s level of erudition, interest and patience. That said, the study is reliable, it does not simplify material which defies simplification, and the author challenges rather than patronises the reader. We should welcome his daring new book with open arms.
Eilís Ní Dhuibhne is a writer and critic. She has an M Phil in medieval studies and a PhD in Irish and comparative folklore.
