Reviews: Irish

 

 

 

Armagh and the Royal Centres in Early Medieval Ireland: Monuments, Cosmology and the Past
N.B. Aitchison

As a student of 'Celtic' history I've had to read some dull, dry and boring crap in my time, but honestly, this takes the cake. I tried, honestly I did, if anything for the purposes of writing an intelligent and witty review of just how dull and boring this masterpiece really was...But honestly, the chapters were too long and dense for me to sit down and read per chapter, in one sitting, and the material was just too oblique for me to be able to pick it up and put down.

Don't get me wrong, the stuff I did plough through was good. It's just it was badly written (or well-written for a very specific and advanced audience with a degree in archaeology and Celtic Civ like I have, with a much more die-hard enthusiasm for both subjects than I have, along with an extremely large vocabulary), with far too much jargon, and referenced in a way that's favoured by my university (using the Harvard system) that does nothing for readability as a piece of literature. I'd give examples, but honestly even trying to find a passage for quoting causes me to lose the will to live...I could only, in conscience, recommend this book to a die-hard fanatic of Ireland relating to this period.

Granted, there's stuff in there that would be useful to anyone wanting to explore the site of Tara, which is particularly relevant at the moment, but really, for the money, it's not worth buying. Worth a read, yes, but not worth possessing, as far as I'm concerned. Maybe I'll feel different when I'm able to revisit it in a more cogent frame of mind, but still, it will only ever be an advanced text as far as CR is concerned. Cosmologically, it could be useful, but only really if you want an archaeological emphasis on your historical interpretation.

 

 

 

The Great Queens
Rosalind Clark

It took me at least four attempts to get hold of this book, and while it was slightly more than I usually fork out to fund my book obsession, I'm particularly pleased I made the effort with this one. It wasn't available at Glasgow uni library so buying it was pretty much my only option, without jumping through inter-library loan hoops.

First and foremost, I didn't find it to be too much of a dry read. The book focuses on the use of what Clark argues are essentially sovereignty goddesses in various differing forms in Irish literature, from early medieval evidence to relatively modern examples like Yeats. Seeing as my area of interest is early medieval I was surprised to find that it wasn't too much of a chore to plough on through the final chapters that dealt with the more modern material, because ultimately I was interested in what Clark had to say even if I've never been interested in the modern stuff before now. I would even go so far as to say it piqued my interest in modern Irish history, which is something I've avoided (or at least not actively pursued, at any rate) until now.

Granted it's not light reading, and it's not the sort of book you'd want to take on holiday with you unless you're really interested in the Morrigan or the concept of divine sovereignty in Ireland, say, but still. If you are interested in these sorts of things, it's a worthwhile read. Unlike most of the discussion on this subject that I'm familiar with, Clark looks at the material from a literary perspective, rather than a historical or social perspective that I'm used to, so I found that refreshing. At the same time she came across as being very knowledgeable in the more historical areas too, so in that respect it gave a good balance.

Aside from the fact that I found her arguments about the Morrigan as being (ultimately) a sovereignty goddess persuasive, along with Medb and the Cailleach, I found her analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of the various different versions/translations by people like Lady Gregory and Yeats particularly useful for future reference. That said, I'm not all that keen on pigeon-holing deities into one role like 'sky god', 'sun god' and so forth, because it has a tendency to reduce gods or goddesses to one particular function or motive, and they aren't that simple. The label of 'sovereignty goddess' is the same sort of pigeon-holing that I dislike, and yet it's a label that I find useful, myself, so I guess the book's helped me take a look at my own unconscious hypocrisy, I guess.

On the minus side, her references to a triple goddess/Great Mother in a Jungian sense, amongst other sorts of scholars that hold a similar view, was quite jarring, especially seeing as she only went into any great detail in the conclusion to the book. While it's easily read around, and not fundamental to the book itself, it's distracting and I found it slightly confusing at times because she didn't elaborate until you're fairly committed. Has Robert Graves struck again? No, it turns out, but it's one point I especially didn't find any agreement with.

The book also tended to be quite repetitive in places, and while that can make it good for dipping into as a reference (if you wanted to look something up in particular, the general gist of the previous paragraphs wouldn't be lost on you), it didn't make for a very smooth read from start to finish at times.

Ultimately, I liked the book. There aren't many non-fiction, scholarly, books that I can read from cover to cover, but with this one I didn't have a problem. I would go so far as to say that I could probably read it again, which is also fairly unheard of.

This is the sort of book that I think anyone interested in CR should read, but I certainly wouldn't say it's one of those books that anyone should read first, as a beginner or perhaps even intermediate. This is a book for someone who wants to narrow their reading into a particular area. For those who want something a little more focused and in depth, especially if you're interested in the Morrigan (in her various related guises/titles) or the fairly fundamental concept of sovereignty in Irish society, this is a book you should read at some point.

Ultimately, this is the sort of book that I'm happy to hoard, as is my wont, and I don't feel like it's taking up space on my bookshelf unnecessarily.

 

 

 

Mythic Ireland
Michael Dames

It's a good job I'm not one to judge a book by a cover, because frankly, when I opened the envelope and took this book out, my first impression was, "Has somebody vomited over it and then tried drawing a pretty picture of the space-time continuum with the leftovers, during an acid trip? Hmmm?"

Apparently though, according to the dust jacket inside, it's supposed to be a "drawing of the carved stone mace-head from Knowth, Co. Meath".

Riiiiiiight.

I'm a little conflicted about this book...I think I can see where Dames is coming from, but I'm not sure if it's worked - for me, anyway. I was expecting to read something along the lines of Alwyn and Brinley Rees' Celtic Heritage (but more up to date), so perhaps I've been a little blindsided by my expectations. I want to really love this book, but ultimately, deep down, I have a lot of reservations about it.

The book is split into five main parts, along with the obligatory introductions and conclusions and so on, and each section deals with a particular province and the relevant mythic sites and figures in that area. In this sense it offers something much different to Celtic Heritage because it deals far more with local myths and the Dindshenchas (Placename Folklore) than it does the kinds of myths from the cycles that are normally dealt with. But then it doesn't make any real effort to analyse how such tales might have evolved over time - instead, it takes them at face value, offers some explanation and analysis as to how they relate to Ireland and its sacred places, and then it's time to move on.
 
The fifth section, focusing on Mide, attempts to synthesise the mythical threads of the four provinces into a whole, a coherent body of lore that represents all of Ireland, radiating from the sacred centre of Uisnech. That, for me, is one of the major problems I had with the book right there...Viewed from a more scholarly perspective, it's little more than an attempt to crowbar the mythological landscape into a fairly romanticised view of how it all might have been, taking no account of how the sites may have sprung up over time or changed in function and so on.

It's a seductive approach in a way, though, because it takes the subject outside of the stuffy academic sensibilities that often make reading about this sort of thing so dull and boring. Instead of talking in terms of what was, Dames makes it clear that this is a living breathing mythology and mythological landscape. These are not Ye Olde Goddes who've scampered under a hill or two (as per their agreement with the Milesians), that he's writing about, but the gods that were and still are a part of Ireland today.

This is both refreshing and a little unfortunate, because while on the one hand it gives a sense of the gods as living beings in a modern landscape - not simply 'characters' in myth and legend, who are to be studied and analysed in an intellectual and fairly two dimensional manner - it also feeds the romanticism that Dames sometimes indulges in. Romanticism isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I think it skews how Dames presents what he writes, allowing him to explore what might have been rather than what's likely to have been (if I put my archaeologist's hat on, as Dames is also an archaeologist, I'd say he takes more of a post-processual approach at times, though I'm not sure he'd agree, and there's a definite processual thing going on as well, if that's even possible to mix the two...)...If anything I guess it serves as a reminder that everyone views the gods a little differently, and that how we approach them can (and should) be a very personal thing.

With a healthy smattering of Mircea Eliade and Gimbutas thrown in for good measure, along with the fact that gods are pretty much all presented within a solar-deity framework, I have a lot of quibbles with the way he presents some of the material and the sorts of sweeping statements he makes - replete with a lack of any real referencing except, usually, when he quotes from someone directly. An example of this would be Aine, whom he equates with Anu, and promptly pronounces her a solar goddess outright without really providing any referenced material as to why or how this is so, or why others may not see her that way (but then again, after reading the chapter I did end up thinking he might have a point, and it would be good to see an argument of the fors and againsts in the solar god argument as far as Celtic/Irish gods are concerned...but I digress).

In amongst all of the more problemmatical bits I found some genuinely interesting stuff in there, including an example of an Irish smooring prayer - but it wasn't referenced so I can't follow it up. This is annoying. However, in spite of all the downers I have about the book I also found it kind of inspirational. It challenged my more stuffy academic outlook on the subject and presented a lot of folk tales and bits of lore that I wasn't familiar with. While I didn't agree with a lot of what he had to say, or more often, looked askance at it because it wasn't clear quite where he got certain things from, the book certainly helped give a sense of the sacredness of the landscape.

All in all, I don't think I'd recommend every CR person I came across to go and buy the book now now now. But it's an interesting tome, and so far as my reading's gone thus far, it's certainly unique. I can see why I never came across this book in an academic context, and I can see how its often outdated references and ideas might prove problemmatic for a reconstructionist approach as well, but taken with an open mind and a healthy pinch of salt, I think a lot can be taken away from the book that's useful for developing a spirituality in a CR setting.
 
 
 
 
 
Irish Folk Ways
E Estyn Evans

If you ever have a desperate, burning need to know about the finer details of the sorts of pots, pans, tools and equipment the Irish used in that strange, unspecified time known as ‘the bygone era’, then this is the book for you.

Irish Folk Ways is not an easy book to sit down and get stuck into, because the detail on any subject Evans turns his attention to often tends to border on the anally retentive, mind-numbingly boring and Just. Plain. Dull. And this is me saying this, so I assure you – there's attention to detail, and there's this.

That’s not to say it’s a bad book. It’s very very good, in fact. In amongst all the detailsdetailsdetails are some hidden gems that you won’t find anywhere else, and I've found it particularly useful in finding more bits and pieces to flesh out my understanding of festival practices and lore, amongst other things.

Evans concentrates on all the different aspects of everyday life in Ireland, and for anyone who wants to go beyond the basics, I think this is a good place to look. An excellent place to look, even. I’d hesitate to recommend it as the very first book to read for anyone interested in starting out as a recon because I think the reader would end up either bored to tears and running away from reconstructionism for ever, or would think “where the hell's the good stuff?” (assuming the beginner wants to know the important stuff, like festivals, practices and so on). Evans does cover all this - and there's a lot of it - but you have to work for it. On the plus side, there's a very good index in the back so it's easy enough to pick all the good bits out, but for a beginner, something like Kevin Danaher's The Year in Ireland would be a much better place to start, providing some 'instant gratification' (as the enthusiastic gardening correspondent at the newspaper I used to work for would say...).

This book requires a certain amount of dedication, unless you happen to be the kind of person that lives for this sort of thing. If minutiae is your bag, then buy the book now.  Otherwise, gird your loins and prepare yourself. I would say that this is on my 'should be read' list for anyone interested in Irish practices (and it's handy for a Scottish recon like me, too, for comparison), but I've given fair warning...You're not likely to find it a thrilling read. You'll probably find you'll put it to good use as a reference book, though.


 

 

 

 

A Woman's Words: Emer and Female Speech in the Ulster Cycle
Joanne Findon

Straight off the bat I'd have to say that this is another one of those books that will only be of interest to a fairly limited audience. While I realise that not every book written for a feminist audience will interest those who are interested in the subject, this is one of those books that automatically gets lumped into that category - you have to read it because it's about women...

But actually, it's quite a refreshing take on the subject. Anyone who's interested in feminism or women's studies in general will probably find a lot to like about this book, and even those like me who have more of a passing interest than a passion, might enjoy it too. For a start, it's one of the few books (from an admittedly very few number of books that I've read on this subject within the specific context of 'Celtic Studies') that focuses on the subject from a feminist point of view that doesn't go on about Teh Evel Pay-tree-arky, or indeed Teh Grayt May-tree-arky.

If you've ever read The Book of the Cailleach you'll probably know what I mean, and if I were to compare the two, I'd say this one is a lot more balanced in terms of approach, and over all, is a lot more readable too, though still appealing to a much narrower audience in terms of CR. It's well written, and by and large it's well edited. A lot of the time, academic books like this are written by academics who have the credentials to talk about the subject, but not necessarily the talent to write about it in an engaging way. Here, Findon manages to write in an engaging and knowledgeable style, without feeling the need to resort to using too many unnecessarily big words and clunky sentences to get the point across that yes, the author's brain is in fact the size of New Mexico. Much like my arse (but that's a little off topic).

In addition to the focus on women's studies, the book also takes a literary approach to the material. Findon argues that all too often the myths - including the Ulster Cycle - are analysed in terms of their mythological context; that many of the women found in the tales are evidence of, or representations of (at some remove), pre-Christian goddesses and are analysed only in terms of their mythological, religious/pseudo-religious role. Medb is held as an example here - that once she was considered nothing more than a wanton whore by those who studied the myths, but once her actions were considered in terms of her role (or possible role) as a sovereignty goddess, her actions were justified as being a symptom of her role as facilitator of male sovereignty. This, Findon argues, detracts from the fact that mythological characters are also literary constructs, and as characters within literature, it's becoming increasingly apparent within academic circles that contemporary women (either specific women of the time, or attitudes to women in general) had a large role to play in the portrayal of these women, and specific characters, in the myths in general. I think Findon has a good point here - although she's perhaps a tad optimistic - and as someone who tends to focus on such mythological interpretations of the literature, the book offered a fairly refreshing perspective to me.

At this point, I should probably give an idea of what the book's actually about...

As the title suggests, Findon focuses on the role of Emer within the Ulster Cycle, and to a lesser extent, select women as a whole within the cycle. Findon demonstrates the remarkable coherence of the portrayal of Emer, throughout the many tales in which she appears that were no doubt composed and then written and re-written over several centuries. Of all the women in the Ulster Cycle, including Medb (for whom I have a great soft spot), none have a more prominent role than Emer. No other woman speaks as she does, and certainly not as much as she does. Findon hammers home this point persuasively.

In a nutshell, Joanne Findon focuses on what Emer says in the tales, and how she says it, which is less simple and obvious than it might sound. The tales that are focused on are The Wooing of Emer, Bricriu's Feast, The Death of Aife's Only Son, and The Wasting Sickness of Cú Chulainn and all in all it helps to be familiar with the tales that are discussed (and that of the Táin, the main set of stories within the Ulster Cycle) - if only for the fact that you're unlikely to be so interested in a whole book about the finer details of them if you don't really know what they're about.*

One of the book's stronger points is that it helps to give a variety of literary perspectives on what happens in each tale, and thus a better idea of what early medieval Irish society was really like - and how literature like this could have operated in that society when it was told by the skilled storytellers; the points - sometimes satirical, even - that might have been put across.

Findon clearly outlines specific contexts to each tale, like the legal subtext that can be found in many of the tales, as well as the romantic motifs that can be found in others and so on. While on the one hand some of these points are put across in a fairly repetitive manner, which makes for a mild annoyance if you're reading the book from start to finish, it makes it somewhat easier to dip into the book when looking up certain points of interest, or else pick up and put the book down over time.

Over all I'd say it's better to read the book pretty much from start to finish because there's a lot to take in, and that's best done in a fairly continuous take, but if you're very familiar with the material then it's perhaps not so much a must. And while Findon raises many good and even important points, I still feel that getting a broader idea of the tales, from a variety of perspectives, is a must. While Findon doesn't dispute that, it can become a point that's easily lost in the thrust of her arguments, especially since she argues so eloquently. And given that point, I wouldn't say, particularly for those interested in dipping into CR a little deeper, that this book is really the best place to start - look at Celtic Heritage (Rees and Rees) first, and Proinsias MacCana's Celtic Mythology, along with the tales themselves and so on, which have a much broader scope, should probably be looked at first.

As I said, this isn't something that's likely to have a broad appeal. I wouldn't count it as one of those 'must have' CR books, but certainly it's one I'd recommend for anyone wanting to broaden their horizons and gain a deeper understanding of Irish mythology and women's roles therein - the Ulster Cycle in particular, of course. Many of the points that Findon makes can surely apply to other women and even goddesses in the literature, but again, they're only pertinent if you're interested in that sort of thing.

Finally, and also in its favour, it has a positive minefield of good books to look up in the bibliography. For me, this is an extra bonus, but again most of them are probably only of limited appeal and are probably best found through a university library. Findon's book itself was easily obtainable through the usual online sources for me, but some of the books she recommends are considerably more expensive.



*Easily found in Thomas Kinsella's The Táin and some in Jeffrey Gantz's Early Irish Myths and Sagas, in hard copy for example.

 

 

Early Irish Farming
Fergus Kelly

Cor blimey, this took a while to get hold of. After several attempts at ordering it from various places, I finally received an actual copy of it and I was going to be seriously annoyed if it turned out to be a steaming pile a horse manure. Thankfully, it didn't disappoint.

This one arrived on my doorstep with a very firm and formidable thud: packing in just over 750 pages, its size alone shows that its a meaty volume (tastes a bit like pork....). Don't worry, though. Around 150 pages are the indexes, glossaries, bibliography and selected translations of passages referred to in the text...So yes. I wouldn't say this is particularly light reading. It's thoroughly academic reading. It's an oddly fascinating read, though - by which I mean the title doesn't inspire much in the way of 'I simply must read this!' and yet, for the most part, I found it fairly easy to get through. The book's well laid out and the subjects are dealt with in a fairly logical order and unlike many of the more modern academic books I've read recently there's very little repetition throughout, which I was grateful for.

Kelly starts off with a good introduction and then goes on to cover what we know of early Irish farming, primarily through the law-texts of the seventh or eighth centuries with a healthy smattering of archaeological evidence thrown in to support the literature. First of all he looks at livestock - the types of animals that were typically kept on the farm, how they were managed and looked after throughout the year and the economic value they would have had. Offences that might be committed against livestock are then looked at, followed by the types of diseases. Kelly's attention then turns to crops, hunting, diet and then matters affecting the farm, labour and tools.

In terms of CR it might not seem to be such a great book to read - it's not about myths or festivals, say - but it does give a good insight into the more mundane, everyday aspects of life that can help to flesh out your practices and understanding of early medieval society. It's a good source to get an idea of why certain animals - cows and pigs in particular - were so important for one, but it also gives an idea of the sorts of things they did with the animals and the types of food they made which might make good dishes for festival occasions (Kelly notes that pork in particular was a popular meat to serve at these times, for example) if you want something more traditional. There's also a good summary of the types of plants and herbs they cultivated for brewing, dyeing and (to a lesser extent) for medicine, though I'm sure there are better sources to look at for this, and throughout there are some interesting tidbits thrown in where Kelly mentions things like the veneration of certain trees (the bile), evidence of pre-Christian thought or practice in terms of food taboos and the tarb-feis (the bull feast rite performed to determine the next king), and so on.

Kelly writes in an engaging manner* (as he does in Early Irish Law, which makes a good companion to this book) - and even when I got to the chapters on subjects that really weren't all that interesting - my life doesn't exactly feel enriched now I know about the finer details of the different types rods and goads that were used on the farm, or the penalties for all the different types of offences that might be committed against livestock and so forth, it has to be said - the lurches into dullness were forgivable. Unlike some authors who write about such specialised areas of interest, he doesn't fall into the trap of using teh big wurdz and dazzle the reader with a ton of jargon so the information he presents is much easier to absorb. I can appreciate that his frequent use of Irish or Latin words might be off-putting or distracting to some people who don't necessarily have a good grounding in early Irish legal terminology, though, even though he always gives a translation.

As an academic tome, there's not much to find fault with it. While parts may be dated now (having been originally published over a decade ago), generally these are things that are going to be of little relevance to anyone approaching it from a CR perspective, unless they're really keen on the intricacies of early Irish farming practice and so forth, and the book is invaluable for its presentation and in-depth referencing of primary source material (if not in-depth analysis, at times)...

The translations given in the appendices include the original Old or Middle Irish and extensive commentary on how he came to translate something in a particular way, or what a particularly obscure turn of phrase might mean and so on. Kelly also gives extremely thorough references and commentary on many of the interpretations he comes to throughout the book, even offering counter-arguments to point out a possibly different perspective, and the bibliography alone is invaluable if you want ideas for further reading.

Given the broad scope of the book, some parts felt a little less indepth than I would have liked them to be, but this is understandable - I would have liked some more stuff on food taboos, for example, but Kelly tends to present most things in a fairly neutral manner, providing a springboard for further study into various topics rather than getting down to the nitty gritty let's-look-at-it-from-all-angles.

I would say this is probably more on the advanced side of intermediate in terms of relevance and interest, providing some good fodder for more in-depth research, although the indexing and the straight-forward style of writing and presentation makes it perfect for just dipping into as a quick reference if you're not the sort to sit down and chew on it at great length. I do think it's worth it, though, especially with Kelly's Early Irish Law. Though take that with as much salt as you like - if you're like me and are tickled by discovering little things like battle-cries of "Fennockabo!" (anglicised form of feannóg abú! - "Hurra for the hooded crow!", apparently), then you'll probably agree. Otherwise, perhaps pick something else up instead.




* With the usual qualifier of "For an academic book, that is..."

 

 

The Festival of Lughnasa
Maire MacNeill

Finding a copy of this book has almost been like a quest for the Holy Grail for me. Every now and then it gets mentioned with an almost hushed reverence on some of the CR lists I'm on, so of course when I first heard of it I decided I had to read it...I found it easily enough at the university library, but this is the sort of book I have to own, rather than borrow, and copies don't come cheap. Before the reprint earlier this year, this was an extremely rare book, it seems, and I could only find copies with a £400-£500 (or $800-$1,000+) price tag - far beyond my humble means, so when I found out it had been re-released I was a very happy geek. It was still not cheap (£50/$100), but far less damaging to my credit card and honestly well worth it - it's a hefty tome, to say the least, so you get your money's worth.

But maybe I should stop chuntering on about how smug I'm feeling for getting my hands on a copy and start talking about what I thought about it. I could've sworn I'd read it as soon as it arrived on my doorstep, but when I thought about writing a review in time for Lùnastal and started flicking through it, I realised that I hadn't read it all the way through. As I said, it's a hefty tome, packing in over 700 pages, so it's easy to get lost if you put it down for a bit.

MacNeill focuses primarily on the evidence in Ireland, drawing heavily from the Irish Folklore Commission archives, but she does give some attention to the evidence for it in Great Britain and France, though in far less detail. As someone who focuses on Scottish practice, I didn't really find anything new specifically relating to the more modern evidence found in Scotland, but as far as the historical evidence goes for Ireland there's a wealth of information to be found.

Given its size, it's no surprise that this is a fairly exhaustive work on the various different aspects of the festival of Lughnasa, and in this I suppose there are pros and cons. While on the one hand it makes for a handy volume with which to start and get a fairly in depth idea of what Lughnasa was really about, its very size can also be very off-putting. That said, Mac Neill does a good job of laying things out in a logical manner, from the more historical aspects of the festival, to surviving evidence of celebrations. These latter chapters are quite dense, in essence listing the evidence (or possible evidence, where MacNeill isn't certain) for survivals of celebrations in specific locations across Ireland. This isn't the easiest stuff to read all in one go unless you're that passionate about the subject, it being fairly repetitive in places, but if you're looking for a good amount of supporting evidence for this sort of thing you'll certainly find good leads here.

Following all that are chapters on the types of tales associated with the festival, as well as a summary of a 'typical' Irish celebration for the day, based on the more modern evidence available. It's this chapter that will be of most interest to anyone looking for quick answers about the surviving practises that you might want to incorporate into your own. There follows an extensive appendix of the tales themselves (including the original Irish and then translations, where applicable) and, in the copy I bought, the addendum from MacNeill's revision of the book in the 1982 reprint, where she discusses where she may have changed her mind on certain points, or where further evidence proved her wrong more conclusively or convincingly. These bits don't really change the overall message of the book too much, but they are useful to know and I'd say that these later editions/reprints are a better read in that respect than the first edition, providing more critical food for thought at least.

Perhaps the biggest problem with this book is that there aren't any comparable volumes that deal with the other festivals in such depth. It would make life so much easier in so many ways...So far as the book itself is concerned, though, it can't be denied that it's dated in some respects. MacNeill addresses some of these points in the later addendum, but this can only raise questions about a lot of other things that she says and the research methods she uses...Time will tell on these points, but it's wise to caution against taking things too literally, I think, and further personal research is always warranted no matter how good one particular book might be. Perhaps I'm being overly cautious and negative here, but I do find this book to be genuinely inspirational and useful, and it's often this type of book that I'm most cautious about. Question everything, especially books like this that are so highly regarded. But then again, don't forget they're highly regarded for a reason...

At the end of the day, if you want to gain a deeper understanding of Lughnasa or any of its (possibly/probably) culturally related variants, buy the book, or at least get your hands on a copy. And then you can be a very happy geek like me.

 

 

 

 

Sex and Marriage in Ancient Ireland
Patrick C Power

I was surprised on two counts with this book. First off, I was expecting a fairly hefty tome and in reality it's tiny. Secondly, the copy I received is signed by the author, which was an added and unexpected bonus.

Overall I couldn't help but enjoy it. The book's written in an easy and conversational style and doesn't get bogged down in too much detail, so I had no problem with reading it in a couple of hours. It was informative without being dry, and was presented in a straightforward manner so it didn't make me have to read and rer-ead paragraphs to get the point.

As an introduction and overview of the subject it works well. Anyone who isn't that familiar with early Irish law will get a good background of how the law worked in general terms before the book goes on to explain different aspects of the law (and occasionally lore) that relates to sex, marriage, children, divorce and extra-marital relationships. Even though the book doesn't get into too much detail, there was plenty of stuff to learn (for me, anyway), and I particularly liked the bit where it states that early Irish law didn't hold a woman legally responsible for her actions for three days after she found out her husband's having an affair - up to and including blood-shed.

In spite of this, the book has some drawbacks. While it's an easy read the tone is very dated now, with the use of certain words like 'crazy' that I found quite jarring. One of the underlying themes of the book is how ancient Ireland was much more pragmatic and sensible about sex and marriage than Ireland was in the 70s (when divorce was illegal), at the time the author was writing. Things like this date the book, and while it's only a minor point, along with the language, I felt it got in the way of the stuff I wanted to know about at times.

I guess inevitably, with any relatively short piece of work, there's going to be places where things get glossed over or missed out, and this was the case here because a lot of what was said lacked any sort of analysis. Although it's not an academic book per se, it would have been a good idea to explore how much of the brehon laws as they were written were enforced in actual reality. It was touched upon, but not nearly enough, for me. It would have been nice to have seen more mention of mythology to back up the evidence of law as well, and (probably because of the authors agenda about analysing the law) there was no real mention of the relationship between the king and the sovereignty goddess who represented the land over which he ruled or anything like that.

Ultimately I think the points I have problems with are due to my preconceptions of what the book would be like. I think they would have made the book more comprehensive, but then again perhaps less readable...I got a lot out of it, but generally it left me wanting more. All in all, Fegus Kelly's Early Irish Law is a good place to find that.

Last Updated ( Saturday, 15 November 2008 22:25 )