Like pretty much everyone else I’ve read reviews by, I picked this up during my junior year abroad while I was living in Cork. It’s not necessarily something you read without a very good reason, and mine was that I fell blindingly in love with the country and suddenly wanted to know everything I could about it. I had just learned about Lady Gregory’s role in the Irish literary renaissance when I stumbled across this monster of a book and decided I had to read it. Five years later, I’ve officially finished it. Please excuse the essay, but here goes:
The Mythological Cycle:
This collection opens with a series of books introducing the Irish pantheon. They tell the story of the old gods, the Tuatha de Danaan, first coming to Ireland and their victory over the giants who had inhabited the land, and their eventual giving way to the Sons of Gael in turn. This part of the collection also gave individual accounts of the chief deities, if they can be called such. They don’t move the sun, throw lightning bolts, or create worlds – they are rather a semi-divine race of hunters, craftsmen, artists, and warriors who become the fairy people.
My favorite character was the Morrigu. She exists, along with Badb and Macha, as a sort of three-person goddess who stirs up turmoil among the men and gods of Ireland. She appears at times as a beautiful woman and various animals, but she seems the most in her element as a crow flying over the dead (or soon to be dead) of the battlefield. I find the representation of war as a bloodthirsty, shrieking woman much creepier and more apt than a coldly beautiful marble Ares.
The other stand-out of this book of the collection was “The Fate of the Children of Lir”, which has a distinctly fairy-tale feel to it. Lir’s beloved children are cursed by their jealous step-mother to live in the form of swans because she loses the nerve to murder them outright. They spend centuries morning the loss of their human selves and life with their father, singing beautiful laments in the lakes from the time of the gods to the time of Patrick.
The Finn Cycle:
This second section has a very different feel than the first, and it was probably my favorite of the three. By the time of Finn, the Tuatha de Danaan have largely relegated themselves to the sidhe, and only make occasional, if influential, appearances in the stories. Finn mac Cumhal and his warriors are very human, and very set apart from the ethereal god-people of the first cycle. They principally spend their time hunting, fighting, playing with dogs, and meeting pretty girls. The stories contain a healthy dose of Druid magic, enchantments, and transfigurations to keep the Fianna on their toes, as well as perpetual tiffs with the High King, various demi-gods, and the occasional evil hag. Finn and his men are really a sort of violent, Celtic version of Peter Pan and the Lost Boys.
For me, the happy-go-lucky mayhem reaches its turning point at the story of Diarmud and Gráinne. I was disappointed in this story as a romance, since I had expected a proto-Lancelot and Guinevere, but it shone as a tragedy. Basically, Gráinne is the daughter of the High King who accepts Finn’s proposal sight-unseen out of respect for his reputation. At the wedding she sees he is less the legend of his youth and more an aging man past his prime, and looses her taste for the match. And when the handsome Diarmud, who is Finn’s devoted friend and a favorite with the ladies, is assigned to keep an eye on her, it’s the end of the ballgame. She compels him to take her away during the middle of the wedding feast by “putting bonds on him” (i.e. making it a worse dishonor to not do what she wants than to run off with his friend and leader’s wife), and Finn is furious, betrayed, and murderous when he finds them gone. He and his army chase them from one side of Ireland to the other for about twenty years. Despite the fact that Gráinne constantly professes her love for him, Dairmud is horrified at his betrayal of Finn and completely miserable; he seems only to feel obligation toward Gráinne, and eventual sad acceptance of his fate. He is eventually killed by Finn, and it sounds the death-knell of the Fianna as a whole. I lost my respect for Finn as I watched his lack of pity and his vengeful murder of a former friend. He seemed at the last like a bitter, defeated old man and it was plain to see the cracks in the unity of the Fianna, which were torn open in subsequent chapters. I was appalled that Gráinne returned to Finn after he murdered the father of her four children but needless bloodshed at the will of women seemed to be a common theme throughout this collection.
The Finn Cycle concludes with slaughter, in-fighting, and the death of most members of Finn’s inner circle. My favorite of the later chapters is “Meargach’s Wife”, in which a queen named Ailne delivers a haunting lament for a husband and two sons killed at the hands of the Fianna. I loved the imagery of a solitary, keening woman in the midst of thousands of senselessly bloody men.
The Ulster Cycle:
The third and final book of the collection tells the story of Cuchulain of Muirthemne. I had expected this to be my favorite of the books, but it was a little disappointing in some ways. I had expected the most out of the primary story, “The War for the Bull of Cuailgne”, and I ended up fairly bored by the repetition of Cuchulain fighting guy after guy after guy and winning. There wasn’t a lot of story and there wasn’t a lot of storytelling to excuse it. But Cuchulain himself aside, there was some very good stuff.
The women in these stories are particularly fun; Maeve, the Queen of Connaught who instigates the war, is a force of nature. She rules in her own right and doesn’t care for her husband getting ahead of himself, and practically ends up getting half of Ireland killed in the course of proving her point. She offers her daughter Findabair to anyone who will kill Cuchulain with a sort of mercenary disregard for the girl that is appalling and fascinating; the poor girl dies of shame when she learns that over 700 men have gone to their death trying to win her.
Deirdre, from “The Fate of the Sons of Usnach”, is reminiscent of Gráinne, only much more sympathetic. The King of Ulster, Conchubar, has her brought up in isolation after a druid predicts that she will be an unparalleled beauty, so that he might marry her when she grows up. The druid also predicted that same beauty would be the cause of death and destruction, but the king is undeterred. Before he can marry her, she meets the king’s nephew Naoise, falls in love, and runs away with him and his brothers to Scotland. Conchubar treacherously lures them back to Ireland and hundreds of men, including the Naoise and the other sons of Usnach, are killed in the king’s attempt to get Deirdre for himself. She kills herself in her grief rather than go with Conchubar. It’s a wonderful, tragic story that has the emotion and passion that was lacking in the story of Dairmuid and Gráinne.
It took me just about forever to get through all these stories. But, I'm very glad that I did, even if that’s possibly because now this massive book can be put back up on the shelf after nearly a year on my end-table. I get that this is probably not going to be of interest to everyone out there, but it’s worth the effort if it is. Plus, anything with a preface by Yeats deserves a try.