Irish Folk Tales

(1)Write your personal response to each of the Irish Fairytales for this lesson’s reading. (2) What do the Irish fairytales tell you about the Irish view of space and time?

I’d like to begin by saying I really enjoy reading folk tales from any culture. I found several wonderful websites with additional Celtic folk tales as well as tales from many other cultures. If you have any interest in the subject, I recommend visiting:

http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/index.htm (this website is truly amazing)
http://www.pantheon.org/areas/mythology/europe/celtic/
http://www.luminarium.org/mythology/ireland/ (this website is more like a portal linking you to many other websites as well as internal information.

The folk story “The King of Ireland’s Son” was a typical journey story with a moral at the end. There were several repetitious phrases coming from the oral tradition that surrounds most folk traditions. Journey stories are fairly typical in popular culture fantasy novels - one of my favorite genres. Journeys are usually undertaken by a reluctant hero, often someone who doesn’t realize he’s a hero. All journey tales include tests of some sort. In this folktale, the King’s son takes this journey to find the perfect woman who will become his wife. He is accompanied and supported by several individuals he meets on the road and is ultimately rewarded for being a good person. This was my second favorite of the stories probably because it was a forerunner for the fantasy novels I enjoy.
“Dreams of Gold” was a series of mini-stories (2-3 sentences each) about finding a pot of gold.
My favorite tale was “The Birth of Finn MacCumhail”. I enjoyed this tale so much that I found many other tales of Finn MacCumhail and his forces called the Fenians. This group of tales, known as the Fenian Cycle or the Ossian Cycle, reminded me of the Athurian legends. (please see http://www.shadowdrake.com/modules.php?name=Content&pa=showpage&pid=37 for an interesting code of behavior and tests for membership into the Fianna.) Both are filled with battles and journeys. Additionally, both sets of legends have mystical components with stories replete with witches and humans with supernatural powers. Many of the tales in the Fenian Cycle repeat phrases and story lines – again illustrating how oral traditions functioned so effectively. For example, the tale “Fin MacCumhail and the Fenians of Erin in the Castle of Fear Dubh” repeats the story line of a hag with three sons with a few modifications. Also, the battle description, “Water sprang out of gray rocks, cows cast their calves even when they had none, and hard rushes grew soft in the remotest corner of Erin.” (Henry Glassie. “Irish Folktales,” p243) was the same in both tales. Personally, I love the reference to non-pregnant cows giving birth and was thrilled to see it used more than once.
Another tale from the Fenian Cycle, “Usheen’s Return to Ireland,” is possibly a forerunner of the Rip Van Winkle tale from the 19th century. This story best demonstrated a concept of time that is quite amazing. In this story, Usheen is carried underground to Tir-Nan-Oge where time moves very slowly – a few days equate to a thousand years. When he finally returns to his home, everything is overgrown and broken. He is so overcome with grief, he allows his emotions to lead him to his own destruction. This theme is also found all throughout science fiction usually when an author is trying to make a point about how long space travel will really take and the sacrifices people will be making when they undertake their journey.
Finally, “The Man Who Had No Story” started as a political statement against the English but quickly moved to a supernatural tale of a common man experiencing life. I found this tale particularly intriguing as it implies that having a story to tell is important. This makes sense in a culture of oral traditions and folk tales. If you run out of stories, your tradition dies. Stories are a cultural currency in a way.

The Irish and Community

This blog is a little outside the current topic for the first week of our discussion on Irish folk tales. However, I wanted to add some personal insights I gained from reading "Bringing It All Back Home" by Nuala O'Connor.

I grew up in Jacksonville, Florida. I was raised Catholic and spent 13 years in Catholic school. My maternal grandparents were first generation Lebanese and my paternal grandparents were generic American. We believe that side of the family ultimately hailed from Britain, but nobody has done a family tree. For all I know, I could be a descendant of someone on the Mayflower. My grade school and high school and Jacksonville, in general, had little cultural or ethnic identity. I say had, but the present tense is also applicable.
Jacksonville is an interesting place. The westside is typically Southern. This is the part of town that earned us the nickname "South Georgia." (I realize I am speaking in significant generalizations, but I've lived here 31 of my 45 years and I'm trying to make a point so please indulge me.) The rest of Jacksonville, however, is more difficult to classify. It is not really Southern and it's not typically Floridian, except for the beaches. Mostly, I consider it "white bread" - and not the good crusty on the outside, soft on the inside with a slight yeasty flavor white bread. It's Sunbeam white bread - no air pockets, smooth, tasteless white bread. (Please don't assume I don't love my home town. I just acknowledge its limitations. The proximity to all kinds of waterways and to Disney more than make up for the lack of good ethnic restaurants.)
Jacksonville is also a Navy town which makes it very transient. It always amazes me how comparatively few natives live here. I once attended a story-telling event and was the only one in the crowd who had been born here. Because of it's transient nature, no significant cultural communities have developed.
All that said, there is a fairly large Arabic community in Jacksonville, but we are scattered all over the city and our lives didn't center around our identity or that community.
Now, to the point of this blog (thanks for bearing with me). In 1989 I moved to Cleveland and was introduced to what remained of cultural neighborhoods. They were beginning to splinter as first-generation moved to second-generation moved to third-generation. There still remained plenty of Catholic schools and churches identified by their ethnic connection - Irish, German, Slovak, Polish, etc. I always thought this was unusual - less of a melting pot and more of a pot-luck with all the appetizers, entrees, vegetables and desserts on their own tables. After reading "Bringing It All Back Home," I realized the Irish communities were less a banding together and more a continuation of a cultural norm.

This way of life was based on continuity and tradition and was communal rather than individualistic. In such a context emigration was a huge wrench; it was a kind of death and was mourned as such.
(p. 32)

So, forming these communities in Cleveland and elsewhere was not only a natural process but also one that allowed the newly-arrived to more easily assimilate to a new country and, eventually, a new way of life.

Comedy and Structure

Watch Kani Yamabushi and Kamabara and compare and contrast the plays in structure, characters, etc. in a group discussion. Do any of the “one liners’ remind you of past or present jokes?

I've read several of the other blogs on this subject and the topic has been covered in great detail. I don't believe I have much to add on this specific question. Therefore, I would like to discuss Kyogen from a slightly different perspective. (If you go to my profile, you can access the other class blogs.)

What strikes me about Busu, Kani Yamabushi and Kamabara in particular and Kyogen, in general, is the staging and its contrast to Western plays.
Ortalani discusses the Noh stage (and the Kyogen stage by default) in "The Japanese Theatre: From Shamanistic Ritual to Contemporary", pp 144-146. The set staging for all Noh and Kyogen plays allows the use of the viewer's imagination. The play is experienced on an additional creative level similar to a play reading where the characters either sit through the recitation or approach a microphone one or two at a time. The observer becomes an active mental participant – more deeply involved than in Western plays where every aspect is controlled and fed to the audience. (I should say that I’m generally discussing mainstream theatre in this essay.) Also, the performance becomes more personal. Renditions can be compared based on individual performances and not influenced by the surroundings and trappings of the show. Although, it must be noted that costumes come into play in such a way that could affect a comparison. However, since the Tokugawa era (from 1603 to 1868 - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edo_period), these costumes have been stylized enough that perhaps they no longer impact a viewer’s response to the performance.
Another thing that struck me was our previous discussions from Dissanayake's “What is Art For?” regarding comparisons between Art and ancient rituals. It seems to me that Japanese theatre is a marriage between these two concepts almost to an extreme.
Additionally, in his discussion of Noh, Ortolani says:

Zeami then explains the importance of moments of non-action, when nothing seems to happen on the stage. This is one of the great secrets of the tradition. It is based on the continuous, profound concentration of the actor, who is supposed never to relax his inner tension. The actor’s concentration unites him with the deepest self, which is a metaphysical reality identical for all things. The moments of non-action, as well as those before and after, are all rooted in the same deep reality, the kokoro of all things, which provides the profound continuity to the apparent non-continuity of action. (p114)

I equate non-action by the performer to the negative space of the absolutely spare structure of the stage. These anti-reality aspects of the performance and the performance space center the concentration, removing all distractions and allowing both the performer and the audience to look inward for meaning. Negative space in painting is a useful tool for forcing the artist to think about what is being depicted rather than concentrating on the object itself. The example I was given years ago during a drawing class was observation of the negative space around my hand. Now, I still can’t draw my hand (I can barely draw a hangman game), but looking at the negative space focused my attention on shapes and patterns that I didn’t usually see. I believe the negative of non-action and the simplified stage achieve the same end.

I realize I have drifted from Kyogen to Noh, however, I found the descriptions of the Noh performances much more interesting that I did the Kyogen performances. The humor portrayed, in general, does not appeal to me even in our culture (Lucy and Ethel notwithstanding.)

The Last Samurai

There was nothing in our lessons asking for a discussion of the movie, "The Last Samurai" so I decided to make a brief comment.

First, it disturbs me that the films we've watched so far to illustrate cultural differences have both included massive amounts of death, blood and general violence.

In the movie, Western culture is depicted as one of greed and progress at any cost while traditional Japanese culture (and Native American culture, by reference) is poetic and contemplative. The Samurai are honorable soldiers while the American-trained troops are generally portrayed as much more callous. Western culture is very one-dimensional in the movie, whether as shown in the quest to conquer on American soil or on Japanese soil. While I would never defend our actions against the Native Americans, the movie leaves you with the impression that Nathan Algren is the only American with a conscience.

To my original comments about Japan, I found the scenery and the architecture stunning in its simplicity. I was especially taken by the scenes where Nathan was practicing in front of the sunset.

Simplicity

·What are your first impressions when you think of Japan or Japanese culture?
·What makes you laugh?

My first thoughts of Japan are paintings of Mt. Fuji, sushi, discipline and Buddhism.
I find the two-dimensional style of much of Japanese art calming. There’s a simplicity of style that excludes too much detail – leaving only the important parts to make a complete image. I also mentioned discipline. This characteristic comes mainly from my business background. The ability to think truly long-term (generations into the future) is amazing and something sorely lacking in American culture.


I think of Zen – meditation and mindfulness – a turning inward. I am not very good at meditation. I am easily distracted by thoughts and external sounds. I prefer a quiet environment or one in which natural sounds are the only intrusion – the ocean, thunder, bird song, rain.
I've never been to Japan so I only have pictures to go on, but the architecture in less populated areas seems to me to be very much in tune with nature.


The simplicity of style and lack of overly grandiose ornamentation I find very appealing. I believe I like this style because I wish to achieve a greater simplicity in my own life.
I feel like I've only touched lightly and bounced several key areas. As I reread the beginning of the this blog, I realize, my overwhelming impression of Japan is simplicity. I realize that isn't really the case, but in the Art and in the architecture and in a representative spiritual path, that is a common theme.
One more comment that is somewhat off the topic of Art. I love to cook and I appreciate beautiful food. Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto creates some of the most beautiful sushi I've seen.

Laughter is an interesting concept. I once heard a stand-up comedian say that working a club has become more difficult because so many people now get their comedy from the TV that they have forgotten how to laugh out loud. I started noticing that when I found things funny on TV I was more apt to laugh in my head rather than out loud. I’m not a very noisy person by nature so this didn’t come as a big surprise to me – just something I had never really thought about.
As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I really enjoy laughing with my Mom. Silly things can get us started and we’ll laugh until it hurts. I remember going to a comedy club years ago with friends and laughing/crying the whole time the opening comedian was on. The headliner, in contrast, was not funny to me at all. I don’t remember why I found him so funny, but he probably told jokes about things I easily related to in my everyday life. I find Dilbert very funny because there is so much truth to the comic strip. (That makes me a little sad, too.) It’s difficult to discuss laughter when I’m not laughing – if that makes any sense. The next time I find myself in hysterics, I’ll think more about what’s making me laugh and add another blog entry.

Human Culture?

Describe your response to Hotel Rwanda. How has this film affected your view of Africa and its people?

When Hotel Rwanda first came out, I decided not to see it. It isn't that I don't believe such history lessons are important. I do think it is critical that we understand history and work toward eliminating injustice in our world. However, I have a very difficult time watching fellow human beings act in such an evil way on such a massive scale. It is far beyond my understanding to grasp that type of hate. Mob mentality has always bothered me - how a person in power can use it to gain even greater power among other things. I'm also bothered by how easily people can be manipulated as a group when, individually, they would be much
less likely to be controlled. I suppose this is part of the reason I find politics distasteful. (As I'm re-reading this entry, I realize "mob" is not necessarily the correct word. While mobs can be led to act in disturbing ways, mob implies something a little more spontaneous. Genocide and other large-scale acts of aggression against a particular group of people is more organized and controlled than a mob implies. This, I find, disturbs me even more.)
My response to the movie was much as I expected. I cried through most of it. The scene with all the bodies in the road was so disturbing - especially knowing that Paul had been sent there deliberately to teach him a lesson. Equally disturbing is the fact that we (human beings, not just Americans) have allowed genocide to happen time and again while debates go on in general assemblies and council meetings and in offices of power. DEBATES! I cannot fathom how we can sit by and do nothing. We have people in power - people who want to lead and yet, all they can do is talk about how horrible this all is.
Our human need to belong to a group, to create an "us vs. them" situation is understandable from an ethological view. We would never have lasted as a species if we were not able to form these bonds. However, that tendency is no longer working in man's favor. Not only does it lead (not necessarily, of course) to genocide, but it also causes "us" to devalue anyone who is not "us" such that helping becomes less important. How is it possible that I am any more or less valuable than someone who belongs to "them"? Yet, our nature is to count the number of Americans dead or wounded in the Iraqi war but to almost completely ignore the number of Iraqi's dead or wounded. (close to 100,000 dead, by the way - http://www.iraqbodycount.org/) I cannot vouch for that website or that number. However, to me, any number is unacceptable. We are all human beings. My life is not more valuable because I was born in America or because I had more opportunities in life. This makes me want to scream. So, the movie certainly did nothing to help my rather negative view of how we treat each other.
One thing, that has not changed, however, is my view of Africans. I do not believe that Rwandans, Hutus, Tutsis, Africans or any other race of people are predisposed to this level of violence. I believe mobs and groups can be led to this level of violence when conditions are right and leaders are unscrupulous.