Look for the character that everyone else glosses over, or someone obscure in the pantheon who never gets the credit they deserve. There are a lot of (even more) interesting stories out there if you take the time to dig deep.

Let’s take a look at a case study: I followed Tlachtga off the beaten path of Irish myth and legend. This is where she led me

Tlachtga

The name is, like many Irish names, a challenge to pronounce. Google it, and you’ll find a recording that will help. Though the T is technically still present at the beginning of the word, the pronunciation comes out sounding like kleek-ga. You might just have to pop a glottal stop to get the T in.

Tlachtga is both a place and a person of myth. The place is also known as the Hill of Ward in county Meath. It’s about twelve miles from the better-known Hill of Tara. There are also a number of sacred wells in the area. It’s at Tlachtga where the Samhain Fire Festival is held. Samhain is the original celebration of what we know as Halloween.

That’s how I latched on to Tlachtga. Though my ancestry is Finnish on my father’s side, it’s Irish on my mother’s. I was born on Halloween at dusk. I’m a veilish baby, and I’ve been fascinated with the fire festivals since I was a child. When I came across Tlachtga in my reading some years ago, I had to know more.

The mythic Tlachtga appears in multiple tales over a number of time periods. She’s mentioned in poems within the Banshenchas, or “Lore of Women” and the Dinsenchas, or the “Lore of Places.”

In the most common story, she was the daughter of the druid Mog Roith and likely a druid herself. They travelled throughout Europe, looking for artifacts of power and ancient lore. They also studied in Italy with the sorcerer Simon Magus, whose three sons each fathered one of three triplets on Tlachtga.

Here’s where it gets classically misogynistic. Some tales call the event a sexual assault—for which none of Magus’s sons are called to account. Some gloss over the crime. Some tales say Tlachtga died giving birth to those three babies. This kind of ugliness is all over the classic myths and legends. You have to be prepared when you go digging just what you’ll unearth.

We can’t necessarily erase these events from the story, either. Tlachtga’s three sons, Doirb, Cumma, and Muach became the chieftains of Leinster, Munster, and Connaught, three of Ireland’s provinces. It was said that as long as their names were remembered, Ireland would never fall to foreign rule.

Tlachtga translates to earth spear, which some scholars associate with lightning. Mog Roith means devotee of the wheel, which may be linked with the sun. The earliest mention of Tlachtga is associated with the Firbolg, which predate the Tuatha De Dannan and the Milesians. Mog Roith is said to have served Cormac mac Art and Fionn mac Cumhail (both third century AD), and another mention, from the Lebor Gabála Érenn, goes back to the time of Conmael, nearly two thousand years before. They’re all over the historical map.

Both Tlachtga and her father made magical artifacts, too. While in Italy, Simon Magus helped them construct the Roth Rámach, or rowing wheel, which was a flying machine. I’m thinking sky chariot. Tlachtga created a pillar stone called Cnamhcaill or bone damage from a fragment of Roth Rámach. Anyone who looked at it went blind, anyone who heard it went deaf, and anyone who touched it, died.

There is one more theory that might explain their long lives (if those varied mentions are all the same people) and miraculous works. They were pagan gods, suppressed or largely written out of the records by Christian scribes. Tlachtga could have been the goddess of lightning and Mog Roith the god of the sun.

Taking it to the Page

Though the mentions of Tlachtga are few and far between, and the myths and legends about them vary in some of their details, it’s those very gaps that can fire your imagination.

For example, you could take the hateful details and do a feminist revision. Maybe the triplets were the result of consensual polyamory, or serial monogamy. Maybe Tlachtga didn’t die in childbirth and lived to bring up her children in love and light. Maybe she didn’t have triplets, but three separate births a reasonable nine to twelve months apart. Or, perhaps there was some threat to her or her children that faking her death would have protected them from.

Also, some scholars theorize that Cnamhcaill was a lightning rod or a device that attracted and stored lighting. It would explain some of its effects. Maybe Tlachtga and Mog Roith were early scientists. That would be an awesome angle to explore.

We all know that the truth is not necessarily in the recorded story, but in the spaces between. But maybe that’s just my veilish side expressing itself again.

Jesting aside, as writers, we have a responsibility to treat any source material with respect, to maintain the integrity of the spirit and intent of the original story as much as possible. The thing is that what we understand as Irish myth and legend grew out of an oral culture that survived wave after wave of foreign influence and invasion. From what myth records as the Firbolg, the Tuatha De Danann, and the Milesians, through the Romans, Angles, Saxons, and Vikings, to the Normans, the original tales endured, though no doubt altered.

By the time they were written down, by educated and likely Christian men, some of the truth of the originals may have been lost. This is not to say that we have carte blanche in re-envisioning these myths and legends but that we have to understand our own role in this checkered history to ensure we do no further harm.

Look into any cultural history deep enough, and you’ll find gems like Tlachtga waiting to be uncovered. Pursue the angles that fascinate you and you’ll be following myth and legend off the beaten path and into the pages of your own marvelous tale.

Until next time, keep speculating and see where it leads you!

Resources

• https://www.druidry.org/library/tlachtga-and-ancient-roots-halloweensamhain
• https://aliisaacstoryteller.com/2015/10/26/tlachtga-goddess-of-earth-and-fire/
• https://www.knowth.com/hill-of-ward.htm

Melanie Marttila creates worlds from whole cloth. She’s a dreamsinger, an ink alchemist, and an unabashed learning mutt. Her speculative short fiction has appeared in Bastion Science Fiction Magazine, On Spec Magazine, and Sudbury Ink. She lives and writes in Sudbury, Ontario, Canada, where she spends her days working as a corporate trainer. She blogs at https://www.melaniemarttila.ca and you can find her on Facebook and Twitter.

The post Why You Should Follow Myths and Legends Off the Beaten Path appeared first on DIY MFA.

Here are five lesser known myths to get you started:

1) Hermes and the Golden Cattle (Greek)

Hermes was born to Zeus and Maia, the daughter of a Titan, and raised in a cave on Mount Cyllene. A precocious child, Hermes made himself a lyre out of a tortoise shell, but he soon tired of it and decided to go on an adventure. He left the cave and came upon his brother Apollo’s herd of golden cattle, which he stole by fashioning “shoes” for each of the cattle out of oak bark and driving them backwards to disguise their tracks. When Apollo returned to find his cattle gone, he searched high and low but could not find them. Not for nothing, however, was Apollo the god of prophecy. An omen led him to Hermes’ cave on Mount Cyllene, where he found baby Hermes asleep in his cradle. Undeceived, Apollo snatched Hermes up and took him to Mount Olympus, where he was made to confess before their father Zeus. Though Zeus found Hermes’ antics amusing, he ordered Hermes to return the cattle to Apollo. Hermes did so but then promptly bought them back, giving Apollo his lyre as payment. Charmed by Hermes’ music, Apollo also gave his little brother a golden herding staff in exchange for a set of reed pipes, thus beginning a long friendship between the two.

2) Brigid and Bres (Celtic)

For years, the Tuatha de Danann battled the Fomorians, a race described sometimes as demonic giants and sometimes sea serpents–and sometimes giants riding sea serpents. In an attempt to make peace, the goddess Brigid married the Fomorian king, Bres. For a time, it seemed to work, but Bres became greedy and reopened hostilities against the Tuatha de Danann. Armed with magical weapons and shields that mended themselves overnight, the Tuatha de Danann overthrew Bres and forced him back into the sea along with his sons by Brigid. Brigid remained on the shoreline, ready to help either her people or her sons. Bres, angry at his defeat, sent his son Ruadan to kill Gobniu, the Smith. In the struggle, Ruadan was killed himself. Brigid’s cries of grief were heard throughout the land; it is said that it was Brigid who began the practice of keening at funerals.

3) Isis and the Seven Scorpions (Egyptian)

Hunted by her husband’s murder, Seth, Isis hid for a time in the papyrus swamps with her infant son Horus. Whenever she left the swamps, she was accompanied and protected by seven scorpions: Petet, Matet, and Tjetet in front; Mesetet and Mesetetef at her sides; and Tefen and Befen behind. One night, Isis visited the Town of the Two Sisters and sought shelter at a wealthy noblewoman’s house, only to have the door slammed in her face. A humble peasant girl offered the goddess hospitality, but Isis’s scorpions were not appeased. Tefen loaded his stinger with poison from the other six scorpions and crept into the noblewoman’s house to sting her son. The woman carried her son throughout the town, weeping and begging for help. Despite the woman’s earlier rudeness, Isis saved the baby by naming each of the scorpions in turn, thereby dominating them and rendering their poison harmless. Humbled by the goddess’s kindness, the noblewoman offered Isis and the peasant girl all her worldly wealth.

4) The Kidnapping of Idun (Norse)

Odin, Loki, and Hoenir were travelling in the mountains far from Asgard. Food was scarce, so when the travellers came upon a herd of oxen, they immediately slaughtered one to eat. But when they tried to cook the meat, the flesh remained raw and bloody no matter how long they held it over the fire.  After a time, they became aware that an eagle was perched in the tree above them. The eagle told them it had laid a spell on the meat to prevent it from cooking. If they would give it some meat, it said, it would release the spell and let them cook the rest. They readily agreed, and the eagle took the choicest pieces for itself. Loki, believing the eagle had overstepped the terms of their bargain, attacked the eagle with a sturdy tree branch. The eagle, who was in truth the giant Thjazi, took the branch in his talons and flew high in the sky, pulling Loki after him, and made Loki swear to bring him the goddess Idun along with her fruits of youth and immortality. Only then did he return Loki to the earth. Loki delivered Idun as promised, but later rescued her by turning her into a nut and carrying her away in the form of a falcon. Thjazi pursued him in eagle form and nearly caught him, but he was foiled by the other gods, who threw up a wall of flame around Asgard just as Loki passed the barrier.

5) Echo and Narcissus (Greek)

Echo was an Oread, a nymph of the mountains. She incurred Hera’s wrath by distracting her with long conversations while Zeus cavorted with her fellow nymphs. When Hera realized what Echo was up to, she cursed Echo. The once loquacious nymph could now only repeat the last few words spoken to her. One day, Echo encountered the most beautiful young man she had ever seen and longed to tell him how she loved him. But she could not, for he had not spoken to her. After a time, the young man, Narcissus, became separated from his hunting companions and called out, “Is anyone there?” Echo repeated his words back to him, and the young man called out again, thinking that Echo was moving away from him, “This way, we must come together.” Overjoyed, believing that his words were meant to reciprocate her love, she ran to embrace him. But Narcissus rebuffed her cruelly and, catching sight of his own reflection in a pool, was enthralled by the image. Despite his rejection, her love for him only grew, and she mourned bitterly as Narcissus wasted away beside the pool. Echo, too, faded away, until all that was left of her was her voice.

These represent a tiny, tiny sampling of all the wonderful myths and legends out there. So, go—run amok through the wilds of the Internet and find something that speaks to you…then come back and tell us about it! What did you find? What are your favorites?

Tamara Linden’s storytelling career began at the age of three with “Squirm the Worm,” which was warmly received by an audience of assorted beetles in rural New Jersey (yes, “rural New Jersey” is actually a thing). She went on to study music composition at the Sunderman Conservatory of Gettysburg College. Now, as an exam prep tutor and budding college planning consultant, she has time to devote to her first love, writing. Her work has appeared in Seven Deadly Sins: A YA Anthology (Envy) and Timeless Tales Magazine. She currently resides in Pennsylvania with a very sweet and loving man and an only intermittently sweet and mostly grumpy cat. Connect with Tamara on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, or via email at info@tamaralinden.com.

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