Failte!

I'm excited to share my adventures with all of you! I want your first taste of my life in Ireland to be this poem that I wrote very late one night when I was a Junior in College. Its meaning seems eerily prophetic now. More than anything, I've created this blog to make the actualization of this life-long dream of mine visible to those I love: my friends who are my foundation, my endlessly supportive family, my mentors and co-workers who inspire me, and my former students who have given me enough satisfaction and fulfillment to last two lifetimes... Have the courage to believe that your wildest dreams can come true.

Is fhearr fheuchainn na bhith san duil, (It is better to try than to hope)

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Mourn (A Seaside Peak in Southern Ireland)

The dark, earthen sod saturates her fair feet,
but briefly since she frolics fast in knee high
blades of greenest grass that blow dizzily in the Celtic-sea air.

Her wool skirt, stiffened by ware of evenings past
is splashed by cresting waves that break
against a beach blacker than her hair.
Those once stiffer fibers were loosed by nights upon nights
of hanging perfectly on his line before being wildly blown dry
by the crisp Hibernian salt air.

The pair sits to rest a while instead of dodging
breakers or skipping paler stones.

"Indian summer's here," he says softly,
but all of summer here feels like the edge
of autumn to her, even though she grins in agreement
as she dangles her pale, soft feet off Achilles' peak,
where Erin's vermillion-gold sky meets
an ocean that is grey with years.

She sleeps with her eyes closed tight most nights.
He asks her if she believes in Tier-Nan-Og,
and she asks him if he believes in anything eternal.
Outside the tide is rising, or it's receding—
She never can tell but for the strengthened smell of
salty freshness strained through his light, lace curtains.
She thinks to herself that he is like trying to hold the sea 
and she imagines the water running between her fingers--
clenched so tight.

And so, the night calls her out of her sleeping,
like daytime chides her into dreaming.
She slips her white fingers through the holes of an old loose scarf
that affords her more company than warmth
on these newborn autumn evenings. She is off-- 
Night clouds reflect emerald from land to sea,
And the tara that she never eyes from long hours of
staring too far into star blanketed skies,
feels cool against the thickening pads of her pallid feet.

Elisabeth Lewis (2005)

20 September 2011

"Yankees!? In Tara?": A Guided Tour of the National Museum of Ireland

Tara Brooch c. 700 AD
I've been putting off this post because there is so much to say, that I don't know where to start. First of all, the National Museum of Ireland is around the corner from my house and more importantly, FREE! unlike some fascist Paeses I know of. Not saying any names (Berlusconi). I've already been to have lunch with the Bog men 3 times and I'm thinking of starting a paid tour service for the place, offered in English and my signature Span-Talian.

My Researching Archaeology class is visiting the archives in a couple weeks, which will give me a chance to get a reading license that will allow me to access, not only the archived texts, but artifacts as well. In this post I'll be focusing on the prehistorical section of the Museum, which is most of the bottom floor. We'll go up a bit into late antiquity or the early medieval time period, but only because  A) Vikings are badass and B)so is the Tara Brooch, which I've wanted to see in person since I was 17. Candace has decided that I should start wearing brooches on my lapel and scarves, but lesbihonest, I clearly have a high standard of brooch quality... I realize the above picture is awful and taken with my cheap europhone, but it shows how the Tara Brooch has a special place, showcased in front of the other brooches. The intricacies and attention to detail in the woven knotwork & interlace on this brooch are mind-boggling. See the details better here!

Celtic Torc
Bling from a hoard--you should see my mom's closet
The Tara Brooch is a secular piece from the Christian period in Ireland, as opposed to the earlier pagan art that I'll be focusing more on in school. However, what I'm really interested in is the link between the two. The patron of the Tara brooch (used to pin one's cloak together) was likely just a wealthy, high-ranking individual, wishing to express his status. The leftover artistry of gold, silver, copper, and amber is an exquisite display of the metalworking capabilities of the Post Iron Age Irish, and should really make us rethink what we call "The Dark Ages" in Europe. Above is another one of my favorites-- the TORC.  Torcs (or Torques) were big in Celtic fashion from about 400 BC to 800 AD, and then the Vikings totally brought them back, vintage style, in the Middle Ages. They were worn by warriors, and sort of formed around the neck by the metalsmith, so it wasn't coming off until...ya know...the head did. I'm also into Sheet Gold work like the above collars, which is characteristic of my beloved Bronze Age (a crazy long period predating the Iron age, from roughly 3300-1000 BC).

Baby Mouse boat- Bronze Age. Cuteness.
So, Tara brooch. Let me tell you a little bit more about Tara, since it is the namesake of my blog! The hill of Tara is the mythical seat of the Great Irish Kings. It's not much of a HILL, more a gradual incline, and in reality it was used as a crowning, ritual or sacrificial site. Though it's vantage point is not super high, the view is apparently angled spectacularly so that the surrounding land can be seen for miles upon miles upon kilometers...or whatever. Most of us who've studied any sort of ancient history or warfare, know that it would have been an important fortress or stronghold because of its 360 degree panorama.



While Tara holds Celtic significance from the Iron Age on as a place where kings were crowned and meant to symbolically marry the Goddess, Maeve, it is more significant to me because of its role in Pre-Celtic and Neolithic Ireland. This is when the Tuatha de Danaan (beware, I'm speaking Irish) were said to have ruled the land: people who range from mythical spirits to a fairly historically accurate part of Celtic folklore. For you Boondock Saints lovers (and Elisabeth lovers) This song and intro might ring a bell: The Blood of Cu Chulainn-- I'll take any excuse to look at footage of Boston! Normally I don't watch the full videos I post on here, but I'm enamored by the city I love the most...Anyway, this song is called The Blood of Cu Chulainn, named for the famous mythical warrior of this Pre-Celtic era in Ireland. Cu Chulainn would have definitely lain his feet along the green hills of Tara. As far as the archeological dating of Tara is concerned, such structures as the Mound of Hostages date back 5,000 years. This is a passage tomb, like the more famous Newgrange you might have heard of. Passage Tomb just means that the cut-out stone hallway of the building aligns astronomically, in Tara's case with the Equinoctes, and in Newgrange's case with the Solstices (The winter solstice festival being the influence for the date chosen for Christmas in the Christian calendar, and the Spring Equinox festival, of course syncs with Easter in the Christian Calendar).

In addition, the Stone of Destiny on Tara is said to have roared 3 times for the true king, perhaps an inspiration for the Arthurian legends of Excalibur? These are Newspaper clippings from the 1950's when professors at my university first excavated the mound. Unfortunately, I will have to save the Bog men from the museum for TOMORROW'S post because this one has already gotten lengthy and my bladder is about to burst with Chai! respond with the Latin phrase said by the Irish Boondock Saint Brothers and you will be rewarded! Candace and I are headed back to Dicey's tonight!

This looks like them at the front of the passage tomb
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1 comment:

  1. Lilly20 September, 2011 17:45

    "in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti"

    When are we going to get our matching Aequitas-Veritas tats?

    ReplyDelete

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