Hello friends, and welcome to Scholar Minor. It’s good to be back.
Sometimes, during my research for this podcast, I will fall down a rabbit hole. And when my non-podcast life is getting too stressful or I’m feeling overwhelmed, it’s comforting to have something interesting to mull over and escape to.
These past couple weeks, that topic has been devils. Now, that might sound a little grim, but I promise it’s more entertaining than scary. You see, “the devil” in folklore has a much more complicated personality than the biblical devil of Christian tradition.
We’ve talked before about the concept of cultural syncretism. This term refers to the process of different cultural traditions combining over time to create something new. The Devil character in folklore is an excellent example of this idea.
It is common in mythologies and folktales all over the world and throughout different periods in history to find a dichotomy existing in supernatural or spirit beings. Some are benevolent and are at best kind - at worst, neutral - in their interactions with human beings. They can be called upon for protection, appealed to for their aid, and are generally a positive influence in the lives of their human neighbors.
But whenever there is a good spiritual presence, we frequently find that they have a negative counterpart. Humans like to organize the world around them, and that compulsion often manifests itself in dichotomy: light versus dark, hot versus cold, life versus death, up versus down, et cetera.
So while there have always been plenty of good spirits and ancestral protectors over the millennia, there have also been malicious - or, sometimes, just plain mischievous - spirits on the other end of the spectrum giving us humans a run for our money.
When Christianity began to spread throughout northern Europe during the early medieval period, its success hinged upon finding common ground with well-established pagan communities and traditions. And like its predecessors, Christianity also operated under the assumption of a celestial dichotomy of good versus evil.
From this was born the devil of folklore and superstition - not quite Christianity’s satan, but something else entirely - born from the merging of new religion and ancient pagan traditions. While this quasi-devil makes appearances in folktales around the world - including in early American folklore - this episode we’ll be focusing primarily on his shenanigans in Ireland.
Also - a brief note on pronunciations - I will do my very best with the Irish names and terms in this episode, but its very possible I may make an error anyway. To any Irish listeners, please accept my apologies and know that I mean no offense. And please send a note along if you have any pronunciation tips for the future.
Thanks for spending some time with me again this week, and I hope you enjoy.
While researching for our Fairies, Part 1 episode, I started learning about the Tuatha De Danann - a mythological race the Celts believed inhabited Ireland before the arrival of Ireland's modern ancestors. These mysterious people were skilled practitioners of magic and became the inspiration for much of Ireland's fairy lore. Their existence was taken so seriously that many historians viewed them as true, real-life players in Ireland's history - only moving them into the purely mythological realm around the 17th century.
As is the case with a lot of mythologies, other than our friends the Greeks, we don't have primary sources to draw from. Most mythologies are oral and rely on storytelling through generations, memorized and repeated for centuries. So later texts, usually compiled in the middle ages, are often the oldest written sources at our disposal.
Celtic mythology is no exception. Lebor Gabala Erenn, which translates to The Book of Invasions, is a mostly fictional retelling of the history and mythology of Ireland comprised of both prose and poetry - with some Christian allegory thrown in, of course.
There are several variations that have been preserved but the oldest existing version dates back to the 11th century. It chronicles the Tuatha De Danann's defeat of the Fir Bolg, an equally mysterious warrior people, on the mythical plain of Mag Tuired. While The Book of Invasions is not exactly a reliable source, it does introduce us to many of the key players in Celtic myth.
Among these are the Fomoire - demonic beings who opposed the Tuatha De Danann following their victory at Mag Tuired, despite having initially been their allies. These chaotic and dark counterparts to the godlike Tuatha De Danann were led by a one-eyed chief named Balor, whose gaze alone could kill any living thing.
The Tuatha De Danann defeated Balor and the Fomoire before themselves being displaced by the Milesians - the ancestors of the modern Irish. But these myths had made an impression, and they would eventually evolve into fairy lore and superstition.
Over time, as Christian imagery intertwined with pre-existing mythology, fairies took on an identity as fallen angels. While the Tuatha Dr Danann inspired the benevolent fairies, the Fomoire evolved into their antithesis - bad fairies - and this relationship would continue after their images were christianized.
If you’d like to hear more about fairies - the benevolent and the not-so-much - check out the past episodes Fairies, Part 1: Introduction and Pucai, Banshees, and Leprechauns. Mischievous spirits are an intrinsic part of Irish folklore, and the devil fit neatly into pre-existing tradition as a malevolent trickster.
The pooka, a spirit inclined to abduct lonely travellers and deposit them miles from their destination, is one of the most obvious ancestors of the devil or folklore. In fact, in The British, Roman, and Saxon Antiquities and Folklore of Worcestershire, published in 1856, the authors tell us that the Irish pooka or puck is often synonymous with the devil in folk tradition.
Able to shapeshift at will, one of the common physical forms preferred by the pooka was that of a goat. Horns and cloven feet are typical in many medieval depictions of the Christian devil, in part derived from an intention to villainize pagan gods of nature like the deity Pan of Greek mythology - who also exhibited these goat-like characteristics.
Sean O Suilleabhain’s article Etiological stories in Ireland, published in Medieval Literature and Folklore Studies, presents some of the most common folk beliefs regarding the devil from the medieval period. The goat, we are informed, was initially created by the devil as an affront to God - but he was unable to breathe life into the creature. God did just that, but the goat remains as a cursed animal and quote “limb of the devil.”
Suilleabhain’s research also uncovers a story wherein the devil - who was skilled in all trades with the obviously symbolic exception of carpentry - dropped an axe on his foot during his attempts at woodworking, permanently cleaving his hooves in twain.
The devil’s hooves are his most obvious giveaway. While our primary focus this episode is rooted in Irish folklore, it’s important to note that the devil was making waves all around northern Europe and the British Isles. I mention that because one of my very favorite appearances by the devil as a character is in the cautionary ballad The Daemon Lover or James Harris, which originated in 17th century Scotland.
Interestingly, this particular song became hugely popular in several regions of the United States, too - often referred to as The House Carpenter. This folk song featured prominently in the repertoires of Appalachian and Ozark folk musicians at the turn of the century. My favorite version was recorded in much more modern times by fantastic Scottish musician Alasdair Roberts; check out the show notes for a link to listen - it is well worth it.
The devil in much of folklore embodies the trickster archetype, and the Daemon Lover is a great example of this role in a narrative. And like many folktales it is cautionary - in this case, warning the listener of the dangers of greed and infidelity.
In the disguise of a handsome former lover, the devil beguiles a married woman, convincing her to leave her husband and infant behind in favor of his treasure-laden ships. Once on board one of the luxurious vessels, the woman notices that he has no crew and catches sight of a cloven hoof peeking out from the bottom of his trousers. She realizes she's been had by the devil in disguise, and he informs her that they are sailing to hell, breaking the ship in two and sinking it into the sea.
Back in Ireland, near a little town called Cashel, an immense rock formation is said to be the result of the devil taking a bite out of the neighboring hills and spitting the mouthful of stone into the plain below, aggravated by a human who had annoyed him.
The devil in these instances is a pretty scary dude, capable of causing a lot of trouble for hapless misbehaving mortals. But the funny thing about the devil of folklore is that he isn’t always all-powerful . . . sometimes he’s just there to visit and spook everyone, and sometimes he’s a bit of a doofus.
In one story that appears often with subtle variations, a family in Limerick encountered a handsome stranger riding a dark horse while out hunting. This charismatic visitor was encouraged to stay for a while at the family home, an invitation the stranger accepted, and the group socialized and enjoyed themselves until late in the night - when the guest was shown to their room.
A servant, the tale tells us, saw the stranger had a cloven foot while removing his boots but was too frightened to draw attention to it. In the morning, the guest and his horse had disappeared - but the floors of the bedroom and the horses' stall were burned with red-hot hoofprints.
One traditional Irish tale describes one of the devil's more embarrassing encounters with humankind. In later versions of the story, the protagonist is referred to as Stingy Jack. Jack was a heavy drinker, and he invited the devil himself out for a pint. Jack managed to convince the devil to turn himself into a coin, which Jack then pocketed. Unfortunately for the devil, Jack also kept a silver cross on his person, and the devil was trapped.
A year later, Jack released the devil, and must have been awfully clever - immediately convincing the devil this time to climb a tree. As soon as the devil did so, Jack carved a cross into the tree bark, once again trapping the now very aggravated devil. Despite living a rather unsavory life, Jack didn't want to go to hell - so he agreed to free the devil if he promised not to send him there. The devil agreed, but when Jack did die, heaven wasn't so keen on having him around, either.
So Stingy Jack was doomed to wander endlessly in an earthly purgatory, lighting his way with one of hell's embers inside a carved turnip. And, yep - this is the origin of the Jack-o-Lantern.
Irish folklore does provide some advice when it comes to identifying and avoiding the devil. Images of the cross - as we learned from Stingy Jack - are a good place to start. This is why many breads or cakes are traditionally baked with a cross shape scored on top. The superstition of throwing salt over your shoulder into the eyes of the unsuspecting devil behind you also originated in Irish tradition.
One of the most well-known and long-lived superstitions suggests that black cats are inherently tied to the devil and evil. As a cat lover, I can promise you that this is untrue and black cats are absolutely lovely, smart, and very unfairly treated to this day due to this very old superstition.
Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms, and Superstitions of Ireland, published in 1888, tells us that black cats are "endowed with reason, can understand conversations, and are quite able to talk if they considered it advisable and judicious to join in the conversation." We're also advised, strangely, that "On entering a house the usual salutation is, 'God save all here, except the cat.'' Now that's just plain rude.
Black cats, black dogs, black horses, black chickens, black goats - superstition warns that all of these could be in cahoots with the devil. Clearly a holdover from the shapeshifting fairy the Pooka, these creatures were believed to have supernatural importance even before the introduction of a Christian framework.
That’ll do it for this week, folks, I’m so grateful that you’re all listening. While I have lots of new projects in the works, I have a busy couple months ahead of me preparing for a medical procedure - so I'm very thankful for your patience in the meantime. I will keep you all updated as new content makes its way online.
You can find my bibliography in the show notes, as well as a link to my website and email. I’ll also include the information for the Alasdair Roberts version of The Daemon Lover that I mentioned - I cannot recommend it enough!
If you have any particular topics you’d like to hear about, as always, please feel free to send an email along. I always look forward to putting these episodes together and I’d love to hear from you.
Take care, be safe, stay cool - or warm - depending where you are, and I’ll talk to you again next Friday.