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Los perros de la Mórrígan
Como por encantamiento, Pejota se ha detenido a mirar el escaparate de una nueva tienda de libros antiguos. Entre los más viejos y corroídos por el tiempo, uno de ellos, casi sin tapas y con algunas hojas sueltas, llama poderosamente su atención. Logra llevárselo a sus casa nada menos que como un regalo de quien parecía ser el dueño. Es entonces cuando comienzan a ocurrirle extraños sucesos.
Asegurándose de que cuanto acontece no es producto de su imaginación, descubre que se trata de un misterioso manuscrito celta redactado por un monje de la Edad Media. Al descifrar, sólo por curiosidad, el más oscuro de los enigmas, es arrastrado junto con su pequeña hermana Brigit hasta un país desconocido. Allí ambos recibirán el encargo de realizar una difícil misión que, de no ser cumplida, puede significar su muerte a manos de la Mórígan.
Asegurándose de que cuanto acontece no es producto de su imaginación, descubre que se trata de un misterioso manuscrito celta redactado por un monje de la Edad Media. Al descifrar, sólo por curiosidad, el más oscuro de los enigmas, es arrastrado junto con su pequeña hermana Brigit hasta un país desconocido. Allí ambos recibirán el encargo de realizar una difícil misión que, de no ser cumplida, puede significar su muerte a manos de la Mórígan.
542 pages, Hardcover
First published December 1, 1985
101 people are currently reading
5313 people want to read
About the author
Pat O'Shea
14 books32 followersPen name of Patricia Mary Shiels O'Shea
Pat O'Shea (22 January 1931 – 3 May 2007), was an award-winning and best-selling children's fiction writer. She was born in Galway and was the youngest of 5 children. Her first novel was the best-selling The Hounds of the Morrigan, which took 13 years to complete. It was finally published in 1985 by Oxford University Press, translated into five languages, and is still considered among the best classic children's books.
Born in Galway, O'Shea moved to England at the age of sixteen and worked in a bookshop. She began to write theatre plays in Manchester and got a scholarship from the British Art Council.
In the late 1960s her early theatre writing career proved unsuccessful, though it was supported by David Scase, director of the Library Theatre, Manchester and his successor Tony Colegate. She also tried writing for television, but that also failed to work out, so in 1969 she began to write short stories and poetry, as well as an unpublished comic novel.
By the early 1970s she began writing The Hounds of the Morrigan to please herself and close associates by producing something she could deem worthy of her favorite children's novels, but with little expectation of getting it published.
In poor health and well into her fifties at the time of that novel's first sudden success, she completed only a few chapters of the unpublished sequel in the subsequent decades, although those also remain highly regarded in their own right.
In 1988, she published a second children's book, Finn Mac Cool and the Small Men of Deeds, through the publisher Holiday. That book consisted of her retelling of folklore tales, and was illustrated by Stephen Lavis. In 1988 Horn Book Magazine included it in their annual list of notable children's books, giving it a Horn Book Fanfare Best books of the year award. In 1999, she published a third (and final) book, The Magic Bottle, which was published by Scholastic. It was also illustrated by Lavis.
She died in Manchester in 2007, at age 76.
Pat O'Shea (22 January 1931 – 3 May 2007), was an award-winning and best-selling children's fiction writer. She was born in Galway and was the youngest of 5 children. Her first novel was the best-selling The Hounds of the Morrigan, which took 13 years to complete. It was finally published in 1985 by Oxford University Press, translated into five languages, and is still considered among the best classic children's books.
Born in Galway, O'Shea moved to England at the age of sixteen and worked in a bookshop. She began to write theatre plays in Manchester and got a scholarship from the British Art Council.
In the late 1960s her early theatre writing career proved unsuccessful, though it was supported by David Scase, director of the Library Theatre, Manchester and his successor Tony Colegate. She also tried writing for television, but that also failed to work out, so in 1969 she began to write short stories and poetry, as well as an unpublished comic novel.
By the early 1970s she began writing The Hounds of the Morrigan to please herself and close associates by producing something she could deem worthy of her favorite children's novels, but with little expectation of getting it published.
In poor health and well into her fifties at the time of that novel's first sudden success, she completed only a few chapters of the unpublished sequel in the subsequent decades, although those also remain highly regarded in their own right.
In 1988, she published a second children's book, Finn Mac Cool and the Small Men of Deeds, through the publisher Holiday. That book consisted of her retelling of folklore tales, and was illustrated by Stephen Lavis. In 1988 Horn Book Magazine included it in their annual list of notable children's books, giving it a Horn Book Fanfare Best books of the year award. In 1999, she published a third (and final) book, The Magic Bottle, which was published by Scholastic. It was also illustrated by Lavis.
She died in Manchester in 2007, at age 76.
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January 19, 2010
It's difficult to know what I could add to this discussion thread that hasn't been covered, as I agree with so many of the accolades given to O'Shea's lyrical storytelling and the richness of the world he's created here. Like several other reviewers, I find this is a book I return to because I just never tire of this finely wrought fairy tale.
One reviewer used the term "lovable" and though it's one I normally wouldn't apply or even spontaneously think of in relation to a book (sounds kind of gooey), it's a word that resonated with me for this one, I think because I fell so hard and far for the two protagonists. Bridget and Pidge are rendered so well they manage to be simultaneously plucky and vulnerable, likeable in a way many books strive to make their child characters. By some rare alchemy, O'Shea never falls into the cloyingly-cute trap so many authors do.
There's a strong current of familial affection that feels very practical and real, the feeling of mingled frustration, responsibility and charmed delight an older brother feels toward a much-younger girl sibling who's got a lot of guts and very little awareness of danger. There's much courage on display here, not a rare commodity in fantasy books but one remarkably well articulated in this one, maybe because the author recognizes that bravery for a child isn't the reach it is for an adult. So you never feel like the kids' intrinsic bravery is ickily eulogized. To me, this had the feeling of A Wrinkle in Time and the appeal of seeing those stubbornly human characters in an imaginatively unearthly setting.
The adventures the kids have will feel both familiar and new to adults and even kids familiar with Tolkein and the conventions of classic European "quest" fairy tales. They travel a winding road to protect (or retrieve) powerful magic, they meet a dense and lively array of fully-realized characters, they encounter mythical figures as well as wholly original creations, they battle pure evil as well as simple weakness and despicable collaboration. Sure, you know this pattern as well as you know the story of Pinocchio, but it can still surprise and charm you when it's in the hands of someone as talented as this writer.
Throughout, O'Shea does a splendid job of being inspired by existing mythology but not slavishly restricted by it. But I think what sets this book apart from so many others who only wish they were as readable and stick-in-your-memory enduring, is the sparkling humor that glints off the often poetic language. There's a great deal of subtle wit and even overt slapstick in here, which balances the violence and tension that's also present on almost every page.
An engrossing story, appealing characters, humor, danger, good, evil, eels, dogs, headless heroes. It's got it all. I think you'll care about what happens to the heroes of this story because they are exactly the companions you'd want to keep you company — and keep you laughing — on a long, hard road.
One reviewer used the term "lovable" and though it's one I normally wouldn't apply or even spontaneously think of in relation to a book (sounds kind of gooey), it's a word that resonated with me for this one, I think because I fell so hard and far for the two protagonists. Bridget and Pidge are rendered so well they manage to be simultaneously plucky and vulnerable, likeable in a way many books strive to make their child characters. By some rare alchemy, O'Shea never falls into the cloyingly-cute trap so many authors do.
There's a strong current of familial affection that feels very practical and real, the feeling of mingled frustration, responsibility and charmed delight an older brother feels toward a much-younger girl sibling who's got a lot of guts and very little awareness of danger. There's much courage on display here, not a rare commodity in fantasy books but one remarkably well articulated in this one, maybe because the author recognizes that bravery for a child isn't the reach it is for an adult. So you never feel like the kids' intrinsic bravery is ickily eulogized. To me, this had the feeling of A Wrinkle in Time and the appeal of seeing those stubbornly human characters in an imaginatively unearthly setting.
The adventures the kids have will feel both familiar and new to adults and even kids familiar with Tolkein and the conventions of classic European "quest" fairy tales. They travel a winding road to protect (or retrieve) powerful magic, they meet a dense and lively array of fully-realized characters, they encounter mythical figures as well as wholly original creations, they battle pure evil as well as simple weakness and despicable collaboration. Sure, you know this pattern as well as you know the story of Pinocchio, but it can still surprise and charm you when it's in the hands of someone as talented as this writer.
Throughout, O'Shea does a splendid job of being inspired by existing mythology but not slavishly restricted by it. But I think what sets this book apart from so many others who only wish they were as readable and stick-in-your-memory enduring, is the sparkling humor that glints off the often poetic language. There's a great deal of subtle wit and even overt slapstick in here, which balances the violence and tension that's also present on almost every page.
An engrossing story, appealing characters, humor, danger, good, evil, eels, dogs, headless heroes. It's got it all. I think you'll care about what happens to the heroes of this story because they are exactly the companions you'd want to keep you company — and keep you laughing — on a long, hard road.
August 4, 2022
I adore this book! Thirteen years in the writing, and one of only three works that Galway-born author Pat O'Shea ever published - the two others being
Finn Mac Cool and the Small Men of Deeds
, a slender collection of retold tales from the Fionn Cycle, and an early-reader entitled
The Magic Bottle
- this sprawling children's fantasy is a masterpiece, and simply a joy to read! I love pretty much everything about it, from its wealth of folkloric references to its discursive style, and included it in the course I taught in college, on the connections between folklore and children's fantasy literature. I hope, in fact, to incorporate it into my dissertation, on that distant day when I finally get myself to grad school.
The story of Pidge (P.J. - short for Patrick Joseph) and Bridget, a brother and sister who become involved an epic quest to prevent The Morrígan - the tripartite Irish goddess of war: "The One Who is Three" - from claiming the power of the serpent Olc-Glas, and thereby returning to ascendance, The Hounds of the Morrigan takes readers on an extraordinary journey through the world of Faery, or Tír na nÓg, introducing them to a wide range of characters from traditional Irish mythology along the way. Opening in O'Shea's native city of Galway, the book follows Pidge as he inadvertently gains possession of the ancient manuscript in which Olc-Glas (literally "wicked green" in Irish) is trapped, and finds himself almost immediately pursued by the agents - the hounds - of The Great (and sinister) Queen. Freeing the serpent by mistake, Pidge is enlisted by The Dagda, the "good god" and father-figure of Irish mythology, in an effort to track down the one thing - a pebble stained with The Morrígan's own blood, during an ancient battle with the hero Cúchulainn - that can destroy it. Accompanied by his five-year-old sister Bridget, and aided by "all true creatures," Pidge sets out to correct his mistake, and prevent the rising of a figure who can only bring death and destruction in her wake...
With its wealth of figures from traditional Irish folklore and mythology, it would be difficult to imagine a work of children's fantasy literature more perfectly suited to my taste than this. There's the eponymous Morrígan, of course, with her constituent components - Bodbh the "Scald Crow," Macha the "Queen of Phantoms," and the great Battle Goddess herself, the fair and terrifying Morrígan - there's The Dagda, or Great Lord of Knowledge, who makes the very stars dance; Aengus Óg, the god of love, with his magical daisies; Brigit, the goddess of the hearth, with her toothsome sausages; Cathbad the Druid, with his spells and enchantments; the great warrior Cúchulainn, often in disguise; Queen Maeve of Connacht, fleeing from the tragedy of her slain sons, the Seven Maines, and followed by her husband Ailill; and many more besides. Each figures comes alive in O'Shea's telling, a fascinating character in his or her own right, and an intriguing reflection on some part of the Irish tradition.
Just as compelling are the two young human heroes - the quiet Pidge, with his keen observation of the world, and his wealth of courage and fortitude waiting to be discovered; and warmhearted Bridget, with her outspoken ways, her penchant for embroidering the truth ("Me lost? I never get lost."), and her loving heart - and the animal characters they encounter on their adventure, from that comical frog, Puddeneen Whelan, to the glorious and majestic Irish Elk, petrified for millennia and brought to life again by Druid spells, in order to carry the children through a difficult stage of their journey. Serena Begley, the path-finding donkey who leads the children through the standing stones, is a gently reassuring presence, while the brilliantly named Hounds - Findepath, Lithelegs, Greymuzzle, Fowler, Silkenskin, Rushbrook, Swift, Fierce, Gnawbone - are an ever-present threat. My own personal favorite is Cú Rua the fox, by turns mischievous and mournful, who brings his own sharp wisdom to Pidge and Bridget, during the latter part of their quest. I am haunted by the scene in which Cooroo (as he is known) and Pidge debate human-fox relations:
"If you didn't take chickens, they wouldn't hunt you," Pidge ventured. Cooroo turned and looked steadily into his eyes for a long moment.
"Oh, but they would. You know it and I know it," he whispered sadly, and then he moved on."
(and later, after a debate on whether foxes harm or help farmers)....
"They begrudge me my own life - they want my death and they seem to get pleasure out of it and that's a fact."
"Why do you take chickens at all?" Pidge managed to ask.
"I like the taste."
"So do I," Bridget said, defending him, adding reprovingly: "And so do you, Pidge."
"In bad times," Cooroo continued, "I could believe that all I am is hunger with a nose."
(and finally, after relating the terrible death of his vixen, hunted for sport, and torn to pieces)...
"Ah, it is a sad and puzzling fate to share the world with man, but what can we do? My poor vixen - she could charm anything but the hounds, will I never forget it."
There are scenes of pathos here, and scenes of intense excitement, as the children flee across a magical landscape, but there are also moments (many of them!) of humor, particularly when Bridget comes out with one of her pronouncements, or becomes indignant. I always chuckle when I come to the scene in which the old angler (), admiring the man who first trapped Olc-Glas in a manuscript, says: "He must have been an elegant, powerful Druid, that Patrick," and is informed by a shocked Bridget that "He was a Saint, not a Druid; I thought everyone knew that! I can't imagine how you didn't know it." His reply - Ah well! Sometimes we miss the latest news. I'm a bit behind the times and I never did go to school." - is just priceless! Sly humor and clever wordplay abound here - the droll "warning signs" put up by The Hounds, to 'sniggle" Pidge, at the beginning of the book; the aptly named Castle Durance; Cú Rua's amazed appreciation of sausages, and inquiries about their source: "When a sausage is alive, does it have hair, fur or feathers?" Cooroo asked, sounding highly interested."; The Morrígan's impatience at being hounded herself, by the befuddled but determined Garda (police) sergeant, whom they refer to as a "small dark thing that follows us like a chronicle" - and the result is a reading experience that is every bit as rewarding, intellectually, as it is involving, emotionally.
Finally (because I have to end somewhere, or I could go on raving indefinitely), this is just a beautifully written book, overflowing with deftly drawn characters, lovely descriptions of the natural world, moments of great pathos and terror, and most of all - a keen appreciation for the magical. The scene in which the Lonely One - the great Irish Elk brought back to life, in order to carry Pidge and Bridget on his back - flies through the night with his passengers, singing them the song of his life, is simply breathtaking:
"On landing, the Elk picked up his stride right away and they flew faster and faster over the earth, while he sang the song of his life to them. It told of the days spent with his own people as they ranged over the land, of the softness of his mother, of young being born, and the old ones dying. It celebrated the taste of sweet grasses and herbs and praised the mercy of water that washed away the scent of those who were hunted. His song was about freedom and being, and the joy he had in these two things; it praised the sweet night air as they flew along. And then the song was about the coming of the ice and the long slow dyings; of the springing up of thick forests where many died, trapped by their antlers in the meshing branches; of being near to death himself; and of being found by men who pitied him and took him to a secret and holy place, where they covered him with sweet earth and sang him to sleep with magic. He sang of the whiteness of their robes and the beauty of their chanting and he ran thus through the rest of the night, leaving them when light came delicately to the rim of the world."
Just as beautiful is the moment when the very elements rise up against the evil of The Morrígan, offering a thought-provoking defense of humanity, and our connection to the natural world, despite our lack of care for it:
At this the waters of the lake murmured against her. They went in angry ripples to the lake shore and formed little eddies there that spoke to the earth in low whispers. "Listen to us," they said. "What were the words of the ancient scribe? What did he say? - Man's flesh is of the earth, his blood of the sea, his breath of the wind, his bones of the stones, his soul of the spirit. - Thus he said, did he not?"
"Yes," the earth agreed.
"Is he not my child, your child, the child of the wind and of the fire? Is he not born of us and nurtured by us, as is everything that lives on this bright ball? Of them all, he is our brightest child. In the hopes that one day he will truly remember and love us as he once did - give me your strength."
I won't say that this book is perfect. I could argue that The Morrígan is a far more complex figure - and not necessarily an evil one - than depicted here. I could complain that, at the end of the story, Pidge and Bridget , a plot resolution that I truly dislike. But the truth is, whilst not perfect, The Hounds of the Morrigan is, for me, a perfectly engaging book. It has everything I could want: intellectual stimulation, emotional engagement, beautiful writing, and lovable characters. Truly, an outstanding book!
The story of Pidge (P.J. - short for Patrick Joseph) and Bridget, a brother and sister who become involved an epic quest to prevent The Morrígan - the tripartite Irish goddess of war: "The One Who is Three" - from claiming the power of the serpent Olc-Glas, and thereby returning to ascendance, The Hounds of the Morrigan takes readers on an extraordinary journey through the world of Faery, or Tír na nÓg, introducing them to a wide range of characters from traditional Irish mythology along the way. Opening in O'Shea's native city of Galway, the book follows Pidge as he inadvertently gains possession of the ancient manuscript in which Olc-Glas (literally "wicked green" in Irish) is trapped, and finds himself almost immediately pursued by the agents - the hounds - of The Great (and sinister) Queen. Freeing the serpent by mistake, Pidge is enlisted by The Dagda, the "good god" and father-figure of Irish mythology, in an effort to track down the one thing - a pebble stained with The Morrígan's own blood, during an ancient battle with the hero Cúchulainn - that can destroy it. Accompanied by his five-year-old sister Bridget, and aided by "all true creatures," Pidge sets out to correct his mistake, and prevent the rising of a figure who can only bring death and destruction in her wake...
With its wealth of figures from traditional Irish folklore and mythology, it would be difficult to imagine a work of children's fantasy literature more perfectly suited to my taste than this. There's the eponymous Morrígan, of course, with her constituent components - Bodbh the "Scald Crow," Macha the "Queen of Phantoms," and the great Battle Goddess herself, the fair and terrifying Morrígan - there's The Dagda, or Great Lord of Knowledge, who makes the very stars dance; Aengus Óg, the god of love, with his magical daisies; Brigit, the goddess of the hearth, with her toothsome sausages; Cathbad the Druid, with his spells and enchantments; the great warrior Cúchulainn, often in disguise; Queen Maeve of Connacht, fleeing from the tragedy of her slain sons, the Seven Maines, and followed by her husband Ailill; and many more besides. Each figures comes alive in O'Shea's telling, a fascinating character in his or her own right, and an intriguing reflection on some part of the Irish tradition.
Just as compelling are the two young human heroes - the quiet Pidge, with his keen observation of the world, and his wealth of courage and fortitude waiting to be discovered; and warmhearted Bridget, with her outspoken ways, her penchant for embroidering the truth ("Me lost? I never get lost."), and her loving heart - and the animal characters they encounter on their adventure, from that comical frog, Puddeneen Whelan, to the glorious and majestic Irish Elk, petrified for millennia and brought to life again by Druid spells, in order to carry the children through a difficult stage of their journey. Serena Begley, the path-finding donkey who leads the children through the standing stones, is a gently reassuring presence, while the brilliantly named Hounds - Findepath, Lithelegs, Greymuzzle, Fowler, Silkenskin, Rushbrook, Swift, Fierce, Gnawbone - are an ever-present threat. My own personal favorite is Cú Rua the fox, by turns mischievous and mournful, who brings his own sharp wisdom to Pidge and Bridget, during the latter part of their quest. I am haunted by the scene in which Cooroo (as he is known) and Pidge debate human-fox relations:
"If you didn't take chickens, they wouldn't hunt you," Pidge ventured. Cooroo turned and looked steadily into his eyes for a long moment.
"Oh, but they would. You know it and I know it," he whispered sadly, and then he moved on."
(and later, after a debate on whether foxes harm or help farmers)....
"They begrudge me my own life - they want my death and they seem to get pleasure out of it and that's a fact."
"Why do you take chickens at all?" Pidge managed to ask.
"I like the taste."
"So do I," Bridget said, defending him, adding reprovingly: "And so do you, Pidge."
"In bad times," Cooroo continued, "I could believe that all I am is hunger with a nose."
(and finally, after relating the terrible death of his vixen, hunted for sport, and torn to pieces)...
"Ah, it is a sad and puzzling fate to share the world with man, but what can we do? My poor vixen - she could charm anything but the hounds, will I never forget it."
There are scenes of pathos here, and scenes of intense excitement, as the children flee across a magical landscape, but there are also moments (many of them!) of humor, particularly when Bridget comes out with one of her pronouncements, or becomes indignant. I always chuckle when I come to the scene in which the old angler (), admiring the man who first trapped Olc-Glas in a manuscript, says: "He must have been an elegant, powerful Druid, that Patrick," and is informed by a shocked Bridget that "He was a Saint, not a Druid; I thought everyone knew that! I can't imagine how you didn't know it." His reply - Ah well! Sometimes we miss the latest news. I'm a bit behind the times and I never did go to school." - is just priceless! Sly humor and clever wordplay abound here - the droll "warning signs" put up by The Hounds, to 'sniggle" Pidge, at the beginning of the book; the aptly named Castle Durance; Cú Rua's amazed appreciation of sausages, and inquiries about their source: "When a sausage is alive, does it have hair, fur or feathers?" Cooroo asked, sounding highly interested."; The Morrígan's impatience at being hounded herself, by the befuddled but determined Garda (police) sergeant, whom they refer to as a "small dark thing that follows us like a chronicle" - and the result is a reading experience that is every bit as rewarding, intellectually, as it is involving, emotionally.
Finally (because I have to end somewhere, or I could go on raving indefinitely), this is just a beautifully written book, overflowing with deftly drawn characters, lovely descriptions of the natural world, moments of great pathos and terror, and most of all - a keen appreciation for the magical. The scene in which the Lonely One - the great Irish Elk brought back to life, in order to carry Pidge and Bridget on his back - flies through the night with his passengers, singing them the song of his life, is simply breathtaking:
"On landing, the Elk picked up his stride right away and they flew faster and faster over the earth, while he sang the song of his life to them. It told of the days spent with his own people as they ranged over the land, of the softness of his mother, of young being born, and the old ones dying. It celebrated the taste of sweet grasses and herbs and praised the mercy of water that washed away the scent of those who were hunted. His song was about freedom and being, and the joy he had in these two things; it praised the sweet night air as they flew along. And then the song was about the coming of the ice and the long slow dyings; of the springing up of thick forests where many died, trapped by their antlers in the meshing branches; of being near to death himself; and of being found by men who pitied him and took him to a secret and holy place, where they covered him with sweet earth and sang him to sleep with magic. He sang of the whiteness of their robes and the beauty of their chanting and he ran thus through the rest of the night, leaving them when light came delicately to the rim of the world."
Just as beautiful is the moment when the very elements rise up against the evil of The Morrígan, offering a thought-provoking defense of humanity, and our connection to the natural world, despite our lack of care for it:
At this the waters of the lake murmured against her. They went in angry ripples to the lake shore and formed little eddies there that spoke to the earth in low whispers. "Listen to us," they said. "What were the words of the ancient scribe? What did he say? - Man's flesh is of the earth, his blood of the sea, his breath of the wind, his bones of the stones, his soul of the spirit. - Thus he said, did he not?"
"Yes," the earth agreed.
"Is he not my child, your child, the child of the wind and of the fire? Is he not born of us and nurtured by us, as is everything that lives on this bright ball? Of them all, he is our brightest child. In the hopes that one day he will truly remember and love us as he once did - give me your strength."
I won't say that this book is perfect. I could argue that The Morrígan is a far more complex figure - and not necessarily an evil one - than depicted here. I could complain that, at the end of the story, Pidge and Bridget , a plot resolution that I truly dislike. But the truth is, whilst not perfect, The Hounds of the Morrigan is, for me, a perfectly engaging book. It has everything I could want: intellectual stimulation, emotional engagement, beautiful writing, and lovable characters. Truly, an outstanding book!
July 2, 2014
The Hounds of the Morrigan is one of the best children's/YA fantasy novels I .ever read I wish it was better known outside Ireland, the place where it is set. It deals a lot with Irish/Celtic Myths. This makes it special and sets it appart from the fantasy books you usually find, which are often more or less just variations of The Lord of The Rings or Narnia.
The story is set both in modern-day Ireland and in a fantasy world through the two protagonists, ten-year-old pidge and his little sister Bridget have to escape from the Morrigan (goddess of battle, strife, and sovereignty) and her hounds. On their way the children are often helped by animals and have to fulfill several tasks.
In its structure and the appearance of the ancient Celtic gods, The Hounds of the Morrigan is similar to The Weirdstone of Brisingamen. Of the two I prefer the Morrigan. It is more fast-paced and the fantasy elements used are more varied.
The story is set both in modern-day Ireland and in a fantasy world through the two protagonists, ten-year-old pidge and his little sister Bridget have to escape from the Morrigan (goddess of battle, strife, and sovereignty) and her hounds. On their way the children are often helped by animals and have to fulfill several tasks.
In its structure and the appearance of the ancient Celtic gods, The Hounds of the Morrigan is similar to The Weirdstone of Brisingamen. Of the two I prefer the Morrigan. It is more fast-paced and the fantasy elements used are more varied.
December 13, 2012
I have a very warm place in my heart for this book. I was given it as a Christmas present when it first came out in paperback, many moons ago when I was of the target age group and I was instantly swept away to the emerald isle and lived in its wondrous mythology from start to finish. I reread it many times and found new bits everytime, and I guess it became a comfort read for those times when I needed to escape reality for a while. Now many years later I have children of my own and I read it to them (complete with some very dodgy Irish accents!) and they were every bit as gripped as I was. They hung on every word. There is plenty of action to keep 2 boys happy and the pacing is spot on. I have never understood why this didn't become an instant classic!
August 29, 2025
I don't remember anything about this book, just that it was very confusing and very good, and it had parallel worlds and forest fantasy vibes.
November 6, 2014
I so seldom give 1 star and this really should be more of a 1.5. Never have I been so incredibly bored and unmoved by a young adult book. The real issue here is how pointless the entirely plot is and how weak the main characters are.
The plot is summed up best by this: Pidge and Bridget must stop an evil witch. They have no idea where they are going but they go. A god-like good guy (the Dadga) is watching over them and sending animals to help them along there journey. The journey includes Pidge saying a lot of things like this: "Oh no, the hounds are nearby. Oh no where do we go? Oh look an animal sent by Dadga to help us. Oh now we are alone and lost. Oh now another animal is sent by the Dadga to help us. Oh now we are alone and lost. Oh yet another animal is sent by the Dadge..." and on and on an on.
This book had to be ordered online because it's out of print. It should probably stay out of print. That being said, it would make a really good anime movie.
The plot is summed up best by this: Pidge and Bridget must stop an evil witch. They have no idea where they are going but they go. A god-like good guy (the Dadga) is watching over them and sending animals to help them along there journey. The journey includes Pidge saying a lot of things like this: "Oh no, the hounds are nearby. Oh no where do we go? Oh look an animal sent by Dadga to help us. Oh now we are alone and lost. Oh now another animal is sent by the Dadga to help us. Oh now we are alone and lost. Oh yet another animal is sent by the Dadge..." and on and on an on.
This book had to be ordered online because it's out of print. It should probably stay out of print. That being said, it would make a really good anime movie.
Read
August 4, 2016It makes me wonder if I've ever gone on any adventures I've forgotten, as well. Do other people ever get an inexpiable feeling whenever they see a weasel?
December 10, 2023
The Mórrígan:
'Who exactly is she?'
'She is the goddess of Death and Destruction.'
'What?' said Pidge. He thrilled with horror and fright . . . and wondered what on earth he could do to get out of all this. It's too much for one boy and one little girl, he thought.
Cover illustration by Stephen Lavis
A PUFFIN BOOK
------------------------------------------------
I know it's a great book when the first act upon completion is to order another copy, rather than going straight to Goodreads to nitpick. I might need two more copies...
Thanks to Sem for encouraging me to read this one. Book of the Year, I think. I don't have any earthly idea why this is out of print, and though you can read it via OpenLibrary/Archive.org (God bless them!), secondhand copies are cheap and plentiful and you should start stockpiling now. ;)
I had so many things I wanted to say, but I'm just overwhelmed and enraptured and all I can remember wanting to say (which probably hasn't already been said in other reviews) is that this is TOTALLY where Nintendo's Legend of Zelda crew got their inspiration for Twinrova! :) Or at least, should have been.
Right up there with all my favourites. I'll be amending my "All Time Top 10" list of vintage out-of-print children's books that should be republished ( https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/... ), and I'm going straight over to my weird GR group of "A Book and a Related Gift" to write in 'a snowglobe with an alpine scene; a silver bow and arrow pin (pref. strung with real horse hair); dandelion and daisy printed crockery (any), and jacks for playing knucklebones' as excellent accompaniments to this book (link here to that: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/... )
Only one small note, and it sure isn't a criticism - O'Shea wove in EVERY SINGLE THREAD BRILLIANTLY, and as far as I can see missed none and used them all to excellent advantage - the climax is rather intense and bloody and scary in contrast to the rest of the story. It fits, it's perfect, but if you're happily reading about the Napoleonic earwigs and the adorable talking Puddeneen the frog and thinking it's all rather light... hang about. ;) But for younger, sensitive audiences - it's going to get rough (and fittingly). But rough indeed. ;)
'Who exactly is she?'
'She is the goddess of Death and Destruction.'
'What?' said Pidge. He thrilled with horror and fright . . . and wondered what on earth he could do to get out of all this. It's too much for one boy and one little girl, he thought.
Whoever would have thought that the old manuscript in the bookshop could have led them into the journey of a lifetime? This was no fairy story; it was a real quest of good versus evil in which Pidge and his sister Brigit were the crusaders. The journey began in Ireland with the destination unknown. Time became meaningless, magic was everywhere. But always at their backs they could feel the terrible hounds of the Mórrígan, looking to their mistress for the signal to attack . . .'If you want fantasy proper, the huge, enjoyable quest book, packed with invention, foul versus good, you're in luck, for such a work is The Hounds of the Mórrígan - Observer.
Cover illustration by Stephen Lavis
A PUFFIN BOOK
------------------------------------------------
I know it's a great book when the first act upon completion is to order another copy, rather than going straight to Goodreads to nitpick. I might need two more copies...
Thanks to Sem for encouraging me to read this one. Book of the Year, I think. I don't have any earthly idea why this is out of print, and though you can read it via OpenLibrary/Archive.org (God bless them!), secondhand copies are cheap and plentiful and you should start stockpiling now. ;)
I had so many things I wanted to say, but I'm just overwhelmed and enraptured and all I can remember wanting to say (which probably hasn't already been said in other reviews) is that this is TOTALLY where Nintendo's Legend of Zelda crew got their inspiration for Twinrova! :) Or at least, should have been.
Right up there with all my favourites. I'll be amending my "All Time Top 10" list of vintage out-of-print children's books that should be republished ( https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/... ), and I'm going straight over to my weird GR group of "A Book and a Related Gift" to write in 'a snowglobe with an alpine scene; a silver bow and arrow pin (pref. strung with real horse hair); dandelion and daisy printed crockery (any), and jacks for playing knucklebones' as excellent accompaniments to this book (link here to that: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/... )
Only one small note, and it sure isn't a criticism - O'Shea wove in EVERY SINGLE THREAD BRILLIANTLY, and as far as I can see missed none and used them all to excellent advantage - the climax is rather intense and bloody and scary in contrast to the rest of the story. It fits, it's perfect, but if you're happily reading about the Napoleonic earwigs and the adorable talking Puddeneen the frog and thinking it's all rather light... hang about. ;) But for younger, sensitive audiences - it's going to get rough (and fittingly). But rough indeed. ;)
July 4, 2009
Has a straightforward, classic plot - children attempt a journey, aided by magical allies, to find an item that will allow them to cast down a villain, while the villain's minions follow them. Many of the minor characters are original and fun or have interesting mythological basis.
All that said . . .
My biggest problem with this book was the utter lack of tension for most of it. The pace picks up at the very end, when suddenly the villain's hounds become actually almost dangerous, but for most of the book:
A. The hounds are under magical restraints that prevent them from actually running the children down unless the children literally run from them, and the kids know this, and simply walk when the hounds are in sight. The author does not take the opportunity to make the trailing hounds (which are large and intelligent and can talk and theoretically would like very much to kill the kids) at all creepy. They just keep their distance and don't speak, and the kids aren't afraid of them at all.
B. The hounds are never close for more than half a chapter before a cheerful new character appears to befriend the children and distract the hounds away.
C. The author periodically assures the reader of how the kids are not really in danger and are not at all scared. This utterly destroyed any semblance of tension for me.
Also, while I recognize that heavy description is part of the book's style, I thought it often went overboard. Sometimes I would notice a piece of description that would have been vivid and strong were it not embedded in a paragraph of dense description (and that in a page of dense description, and that in a book filled with ridiculously dense description).
I also really don't like it when fantasy books end with the protagonist being forced to forget the whole thing. I feel cheated. It's almost as bad as the "it was all a dream!" ending.
All that said . . .
My biggest problem with this book was the utter lack of tension for most of it. The pace picks up at the very end, when suddenly the villain's hounds become actually almost dangerous, but for most of the book:
A. The hounds are under magical restraints that prevent them from actually running the children down unless the children literally run from them, and the kids know this, and simply walk when the hounds are in sight. The author does not take the opportunity to make the trailing hounds (which are large and intelligent and can talk and theoretically would like very much to kill the kids) at all creepy. They just keep their distance and don't speak, and the kids aren't afraid of them at all.
B. The hounds are never close for more than half a chapter before a cheerful new character appears to befriend the children and distract the hounds away.
C. The author periodically assures the reader of how the kids are not really in danger and are not at all scared. This utterly destroyed any semblance of tension for me.
Also, while I recognize that heavy description is part of the book's style, I thought it often went overboard. Sometimes I would notice a piece of description that would have been vivid and strong were it not embedded in a paragraph of dense description (and that in a page of dense description, and that in a book filled with ridiculously dense description).
I also really don't like it when fantasy books end with the protagonist being forced to forget the whole thing. I feel cheated. It's almost as bad as the "it was all a dream!" ending.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 21, 2024
ups it took e a while
November 14, 2017
Let me just say, if you haven't read this charming, adventure packed book, you are missing out! I suppose it falls into the category of fantasy, technically, but it differs from standard fantasy in a lot of ways. The protagonist, Pidge, is quite young and the main relationship dynamic of the book is between him and his younger sister Brigit, who is, as he describes her, "five years old and five years daft." They're extremely protective of each other and perfectly happy in each others' company, which is extremely and it's nice not to have contrived sibling conflict for the sake of drama.
I might be a little biased when it comes to this book, given that it's set in Ireland and gives a rare, accurate idea of rural, Irish life, even if it about 50 years ago. What really makes this book special is not so much the accuracy of the facts but rather the tone. O'Shea writes like an old seanachaí might tell a story, in a whimsical, light hearted manner, but dealing with grief and evil just as much as with humour and heroism. I think any fan of Celtic mythology will definitely swoon for this book, it presents a fantastic vision of Irish gods and heroes, by turns awe inspiring and hilarious.
The story is an old fashioned quest, with clear notions of good and evil. Pidge and Brigit go on a great journey to prevent the return to power of the Morrígan, an Irish battle goddess of war and death. She is hunting for a stone that is smeared with her own dried blood, having been shot at her from a sling during an ancient battle. If she should find the stone, she will use it to dissolve a powerful entity, imprisoned on paper by St. Patrick, called Olc Glas (Irish for 'green evil') and consume him. By this act, she would regain her old power and drag the world back to the old days of war, chaos and death.
Along their way, the brother and sister meet many strange and wonderful people, including many figures from Celtic mythology and more from O'Shea's vivid imagination and there is an emphasis on the importance of charity, hospitality to strangers and kindness to everybody, regardless of their appearance. Good deeds done for weaker people often return to act in Pidge and Brigit's favour, and for all that this is a tale of pagan mythology, there is a distinctly Christian tone. The character of the Dagda for example, seems to be allegorical in nature, although whether this is intentional, I can't say.
The book is filled with vibrant, colourful images and stunning descriptive passages. As a general rule, I find overly descriptive books boring, but the imagery in this book is too gorgeous to skim over. The one caveat I would mention, would be that occasionally the dialogue is a little hard to understand, as it is written in an Irish dialect sometimes, but having met non-Irish people who have read and loved the book, I guess perhaps it isn't a huge barrier.
Can't recommend this book strongly enough. I always feel lighter and refreshed when I reread it.
I might be a little biased when it comes to this book, given that it's set in Ireland and gives a rare, accurate idea of rural, Irish life, even if it about 50 years ago. What really makes this book special is not so much the accuracy of the facts but rather the tone. O'Shea writes like an old seanachaí might tell a story, in a whimsical, light hearted manner, but dealing with grief and evil just as much as with humour and heroism. I think any fan of Celtic mythology will definitely swoon for this book, it presents a fantastic vision of Irish gods and heroes, by turns awe inspiring and hilarious.
The story is an old fashioned quest, with clear notions of good and evil. Pidge and Brigit go on a great journey to prevent the return to power of the Morrígan, an Irish battle goddess of war and death. She is hunting for a stone that is smeared with her own dried blood, having been shot at her from a sling during an ancient battle. If she should find the stone, she will use it to dissolve a powerful entity, imprisoned on paper by St. Patrick, called Olc Glas (Irish for 'green evil') and consume him. By this act, she would regain her old power and drag the world back to the old days of war, chaos and death.
Along their way, the brother and sister meet many strange and wonderful people, including many figures from Celtic mythology and more from O'Shea's vivid imagination and there is an emphasis on the importance of charity, hospitality to strangers and kindness to everybody, regardless of their appearance. Good deeds done for weaker people often return to act in Pidge and Brigit's favour, and for all that this is a tale of pagan mythology, there is a distinctly Christian tone. The character of the Dagda for example, seems to be allegorical in nature, although whether this is intentional, I can't say.
The book is filled with vibrant, colourful images and stunning descriptive passages. As a general rule, I find overly descriptive books boring, but the imagery in this book is too gorgeous to skim over. The one caveat I would mention, would be that occasionally the dialogue is a little hard to understand, as it is written in an Irish dialect sometimes, but having met non-Irish people who have read and loved the book, I guess perhaps it isn't a huge barrier.
Can't recommend this book strongly enough. I always feel lighter and refreshed when I reread it.
December 12, 2023
Children's fantasy as it used to be - when at its best - before schools for trainee wizards took hold. Set in Ireland with the whole wealth of Irish mythology and folktale behind it, this is the wonderful story of young Pidge and his little sister's quest to retrieve a pebble stained with the blood of the evil Morrigan, the goddess of war and destruction. The Morrigan wants it back for with that blood she can resume her full power and drive the mortals of the world on a path of eternal battle and bloodshed. She is quite an opponent for two children who are not yet eleven.
But have no fear, the Dagda is their friend and the Dagda has many allies, all of whom, whether apparently human or in the form of talking animals, birds, insects or even a metal weathervane, are there to lighten the hardship, give strength to tired young limbs, tell jokes and lift fallen spirits. Considering what Pidge and Brigit have to do - and Harry, Hermione and Ron would have thought twice about doing it - all of this unworldly help justifies the choice of such young heroes. Even the bloody battle scene and the hungry giant Glomach develop an almost fairy tale quality holding the children at a safe distance.
The story has a slow beginning. In my paperback edition the quest only begins on page 126. The earlier pages are used to introduce the faery world's intrusion into the world of mortals and the arrival of two of the Morrigan's constituent parts, Bodbh and Macha, along with their terrible hounds, magical amulets, a Great Eel who is the Lord of the Waters, the Brandling Breac, the evil green snake Olc-Glas, and talking frogs. Everything is then set for the adventure.
Auntie Bina and especially the children's father are rather shadowy characters who fall easily into the background and the comic police sergeant seems to be a stock figure from Irish comedy. Apart from that everyone and everything plays a vital role in the building of the story with each incident, whether meeting, conversation or gift having to be remembered because they will have an important place in Pidge and Brigit's quest right up to the very end, right up to Brigit's love of the china tea set left to her by two strange travellers and decorated with dandelions and daisies.
But have no fear, the Dagda is their friend and the Dagda has many allies, all of whom, whether apparently human or in the form of talking animals, birds, insects or even a metal weathervane, are there to lighten the hardship, give strength to tired young limbs, tell jokes and lift fallen spirits. Considering what Pidge and Brigit have to do - and Harry, Hermione and Ron would have thought twice about doing it - all of this unworldly help justifies the choice of such young heroes. Even the bloody battle scene and the hungry giant Glomach develop an almost fairy tale quality holding the children at a safe distance.
The story has a slow beginning. In my paperback edition the quest only begins on page 126. The earlier pages are used to introduce the faery world's intrusion into the world of mortals and the arrival of two of the Morrigan's constituent parts, Bodbh and Macha, along with their terrible hounds, magical amulets, a Great Eel who is the Lord of the Waters, the Brandling Breac, the evil green snake Olc-Glas, and talking frogs. Everything is then set for the adventure.
Auntie Bina and especially the children's father are rather shadowy characters who fall easily into the background and the comic police sergeant seems to be a stock figure from Irish comedy. Apart from that everyone and everything plays a vital role in the building of the story with each incident, whether meeting, conversation or gift having to be remembered because they will have an important place in Pidge and Brigit's quest right up to the very end, right up to Brigit's love of the china tea set left to her by two strange travellers and decorated with dandelions and daisies.
September 26, 2009
Hm, I wish I could give this 3.5 stars.
This landscape crackles with Celtic magic. Every weed in the sidewalk and cloud in the sky is weighty with folkloric significance as two spunky children go on a brave journey to thwart the evil Morrigan--the triple goddess of death and war and destruction. They encounter the whole pantheon of Celtic gods and goddesses-- Brigit and Angus Og, The Dagda--heroes and warriors-- Finn MacCool and the seven Maines, druids and giants and helping beasts.
This is the only fantasy quest novel I can think of where Good seems to have the upper hand on Evil. This is not Middle Earth where Evil is so obviously superior and Good is so faulty and unaided. Here the children are protected, reassured and guided every step along the journey. Even when things seem terribly dangerous, they are saved by one Deus Ex Machina after another. The evil Morrigan obey the cosmic rules that keep The Dagda-- the good god-- on top and the children safe from their evil plans. And although we sometimes wonder if the children can pull off their quest, we never doubt that good will somehow win in the end.
Oddly enough, it makes the story a bit unsatisfying. Where's the real threat-- what's the point of the adventure if you know how it's all going to turn out? Especially since the children don't even get to learn from their adventure-- in the end, after meeting gods and running with heroes, they forget any of it ever happened. So as a hero quest--- it sort of fails. There was no real risk, and the heroes don't learn anything from their adventure. Strange!
That complaint aside, this is a young adult book, and I remember being entranced as a kid by the reassuring way that help always swoops in at the last moment-- even if the help was in a bizarre form, the kids were always rescued. And talking animals, druids, clever tests of mettle! As a reader-kid, I identified so intensely with the characters, it's probably good they were kept safe from real harm, and made to forget. Then maybe... it could have happened to me, too, and I just forgot all about it! It's a geeky fantasy kid's dream come true.
This landscape crackles with Celtic magic. Every weed in the sidewalk and cloud in the sky is weighty with folkloric significance as two spunky children go on a brave journey to thwart the evil Morrigan--the triple goddess of death and war and destruction. They encounter the whole pantheon of Celtic gods and goddesses-- Brigit and Angus Og, The Dagda--heroes and warriors-- Finn MacCool and the seven Maines, druids and giants and helping beasts.
This is the only fantasy quest novel I can think of where Good seems to have the upper hand on Evil. This is not Middle Earth where Evil is so obviously superior and Good is so faulty and unaided. Here the children are protected, reassured and guided every step along the journey. Even when things seem terribly dangerous, they are saved by one Deus Ex Machina after another. The evil Morrigan obey the cosmic rules that keep The Dagda-- the good god-- on top and the children safe from their evil plans. And although we sometimes wonder if the children can pull off their quest, we never doubt that good will somehow win in the end.
Oddly enough, it makes the story a bit unsatisfying. Where's the real threat-- what's the point of the adventure if you know how it's all going to turn out? Especially since the children don't even get to learn from their adventure-- in the end, after meeting gods and running with heroes, they forget any of it ever happened. So as a hero quest--- it sort of fails. There was no real risk, and the heroes don't learn anything from their adventure. Strange!
That complaint aside, this is a young adult book, and I remember being entranced as a kid by the reassuring way that help always swoops in at the last moment-- even if the help was in a bizarre form, the kids were always rescued. And talking animals, druids, clever tests of mettle! As a reader-kid, I identified so intensely with the characters, it's probably good they were kept safe from real harm, and made to forget. Then maybe... it could have happened to me, too, and I just forgot all about it! It's a geeky fantasy kid's dream come true.
October 18, 2014
Growing tired of looking at the table landscape, Breda Fairfoul yawned and allowed a small frown to appear on her forehead.
‘It becomes tedious between moves,’ she remarked and to pass the time, she began to read a book by a great Russian genius whose name was Tolstoy. The name of the book was ‘War and Peace.’ As she read, she chewed her tobacco quid with relish and spat from time to time.
[...]
Breda closed the book.
‘Too much Peace; not enough War,’ she complained with a profound, critical air and threw the book out of the glasshouse.
‘I believe I might like to invent a new kind of rat,’ she added, and dressed in cap and gown and wearing a pair of thick-lensed, horn-rimmed spectacles, she sat at a small laboratory bench, boiling various things in glass round-bottomed flasks; while she studied a Biology textbook and one on Advanced Chemistry, for her B.Sc, because even Gods must work with what already exists in the Universe, especially nowadays.
March 21, 2009
Just like the protagonist, Pidge, who finds a book under strange circumstances, I found this book originally at a library book sale and was strangely drawn to it. I loved it! O'Shea is (was?) a wonderful storyteller. The characters are alive and vivid. The dialogue is very well-written and gives a very Irish flavor to the book. The exposition is never heavy-handed or clumsy, which I always find is a tendency in books with a fantasy setting. The fantastic aspects themselves are told so simply and convincingly that it gives the entire book a dreamy feel, and it makes the reader leave the book with the sense that anything can happen in the real world as well.
This was one of my favorite books as a 10-11 year old; it's also a favorite book in my family in general. I strongly recommend it.
This was one of my favorite books as a 10-11 year old; it's also a favorite book in my family in general. I strongly recommend it.
August 11, 2010
I love to re-read this novel every couple years. It should be considered a children's classic. It's so amazing! Pat O'Shea's writing is lyrical, beautiful, humorous, and incredibly imaginative! The twists and turns are unexpected but believable. Even though I know what's going to happen, I always feel the children's fear and tension when the hounds are nearby. Pidge, down-to-earth and protective, and Brigit with her courage and literal humor are two of the most delightful characters in children's literature. The cast of characters move the story along, but Pidge and Brigit are the novel's real stars!
September 25, 2010
There are many books I read as a child that I've thought to pass on to my own children, but only rarely have I discovered the same sort of books as an adult. The Hounds of the Morrigan absolutely fits into this category. It's longer than many of those favorite childhood books, but it contains just the right amounts of adventure, humor, and sweetness. And if it proves too long for the children in my life to read themselves, I think it'd be tremendous fun to read aloud. If you enjoy fond memories of Lloyd Alexander, Frances Hodgson Burnett, Roald Dahl, J.R.R. Tolkien, or C.S. Lewis, give Pat O'Shea a read.
May 16, 2019
This is an Irish rural fantasy in the tradition of storyteller Patricia Lynch.
A boy and girl buy an old book in a bookshop and begin to notice strange events and people. Three sisters come and rent a glasshouse nearby to live in; they are actually three witches.
The Morrigan is a Celtic goddess of war and death, and she sets her hounds to follow the children and try to frighten them into giving up the book. In this way a gap is formed between this world and the misty world of myth, where a crafty fox called CooRoo - Cu Ruadh is the Irish name for fox, meaning red hound - tries to guide the kids. The hounds have to stay at a distance as long as the kids stay walking, but if they run the hounds can give chase. In a town square market the hounds take the form of thin people in long tan coats.
Other than being brave, the kids don't do much to get themselves out of predicaments and they gain help at times to escape so are not coming up with ideas themselves. That is why I am not giving this book five stars, and I read it before the Harry Potter books came on the scene and it got relaunched.
A boy and girl buy an old book in a bookshop and begin to notice strange events and people. Three sisters come and rent a glasshouse nearby to live in; they are actually three witches.
The Morrigan is a Celtic goddess of war and death, and she sets her hounds to follow the children and try to frighten them into giving up the book. In this way a gap is formed between this world and the misty world of myth, where a crafty fox called CooRoo - Cu Ruadh is the Irish name for fox, meaning red hound - tries to guide the kids. The hounds have to stay at a distance as long as the kids stay walking, but if they run the hounds can give chase. In a town square market the hounds take the form of thin people in long tan coats.
Other than being brave, the kids don't do much to get themselves out of predicaments and they gain help at times to escape so are not coming up with ideas themselves. That is why I am not giving this book five stars, and I read it before the Harry Potter books came on the scene and it got relaunched.
October 23, 2025
Still probably the best (children's) book I've read (ignore how ugly the good reads cover looks). The storytelling is immaculate as is the world building, full of Irish mythology + it's just so incredibly wholesome. I first read the book when I was 10, have since re-read it over 5 times (both in English and in German (the translation is great!)) and it hasn't lost any of its magic. It genuinely makes me angry/sad how few people know about this book and that it's out of print afaik. It's just so so good and I wish everyone read it.
December 27, 2008
Seriously the best book I haphazardly stumbled upon and bought impulsively at a bookstore. It is a fantastic youth lit novel, about magic and godesses of destruction and death and celtic mythology and ireland. also, it is deliciously long so there is plenty to read and enjoy.
July 27, 2022
Absolutely enchanting, marvelous storytelling.
I read this book several times when I was younger -- I still vividly remember the cover of the copy my hometown library had and know I enjoyed the story immensely, though my memory of the actual plot and characters was much more sparse. Reading it now as an adult felt like coming home in a way, and this time I could appreciate the beauty and humor of O'Shea's writing (what a talent!) even more.
Is it a perfect book? No, but there is so much to love. I understand some of the other reviewers' comments about the pacing and lack of 'real' stakes but was won over by other elements of the story so that these seemed just to be minor quibbles. I was a bit confused by Brigit's given age -- she's only 5, which seems far too young for her character; it would have made more sense if she was 8 and Pidge was 10 (or something like that), but maybe it's just me. Most chapters do follow a set formula in which a danger/threat is introduced and then quickly overcome by the numerous allies sent by the Dagda to help Pidge and Brigit on their quest, but most of the time these new characters are so endearing that the repetitive structure didn't bother me.
And can we talk about the characters! O'Shea does a wonderful job of blending Irish mythology and folk tales with real-world Galway and creatures of her own creation. We see heroic eels and earwigs, Serena Begley the divining donkey, and brave Cú Rua the fox, to name just a few. Can I just say, there are not NEARLY enough eels and earwigs presented as the 'good guys' in fiction? Authors, get on Queen O'Shea's level! Her imagination here is just unmatched, and so fun.
If you can read the 2-page prologue and not want to immediately dive into the rest of the story, I don't know what to tell you. This should be much better known as a children's classic.
Edit: Apparently Pat O'Shea and I are birthday twins, and I genuinely feel honored 🥺
I read this book several times when I was younger -- I still vividly remember the cover of the copy my hometown library had and know I enjoyed the story immensely, though my memory of the actual plot and characters was much more sparse. Reading it now as an adult felt like coming home in a way, and this time I could appreciate the beauty and humor of O'Shea's writing (what a talent!) even more.
Is it a perfect book? No, but there is so much to love. I understand some of the other reviewers' comments about the pacing and lack of 'real' stakes but was won over by other elements of the story so that these seemed just to be minor quibbles. I was a bit confused by Brigit's given age -- she's only 5, which seems far too young for her character; it would have made more sense if she was 8 and Pidge was 10 (or something like that), but maybe it's just me. Most chapters do follow a set formula in which a danger/threat is introduced and then quickly overcome by the numerous allies sent by the Dagda to help Pidge and Brigit on their quest, but most of the time these new characters are so endearing that the repetitive structure didn't bother me.
And can we talk about the characters! O'Shea does a wonderful job of blending Irish mythology and folk tales with real-world Galway and creatures of her own creation. We see heroic eels and earwigs, Serena Begley the divining donkey, and brave Cú Rua the fox, to name just a few. Can I just say, there are not NEARLY enough eels and earwigs presented as the 'good guys' in fiction? Authors, get on Queen O'Shea's level! Her imagination here is just unmatched, and so fun.
If you can read the 2-page prologue and not want to immediately dive into the rest of the story, I don't know what to tell you. This should be much better known as a children's classic.
Edit: Apparently Pat O'Shea and I are birthday twins, and I genuinely feel honored 🥺
January 29, 2023
“There’s always a lot of magic, but our way of seeing is very small and we mostly just call it Nature.” I heard geese flying by, honking, as I stood from finishing the book, and bird song heralding the morning, and I thought it particularly apt. What a brilliant book - from its blend of Irish folklore to the verdant descriptions of the natural world to its love for all creatures to its hilarious depictions of the ire and perfidious nature of the gods, I was utterly entranced. Many a time I had to pause to admire a particularly witty scene or turn of phrase. Reading it as an adult, I was struck by similarities in vibe to T.H. White’s “The sword in the stone” and Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman’s “Good Omens”. If you want an adventure with a slice of magic in your life, indulge in this book: it’s delicious as golden butter, and fantasy at its most decadent.
Read
October 28, 2018(This is one of the books I'm pretty sure I read as a kid, but since it was a library book I can't check - and that would have been almost twenty years ago, anyway, so please don't ask me about details. :D)
March 1, 2025
Such fond memories of this from childhood, it was a delight to read it again.
September 1, 2020
Una maravilla: mitología irlandesa, fantasía, aventuras y humor. Me encantó
January 5, 2016
Che il libro fosse una favola, era praticamente ovvio dalla quarta di copertina.
Ma c’è favola e favola.
C’è la favola alla Gaiman, come Stardust. Vivace, piena di inventiva, che si lascia leggere velocemente e con piacere, che stupisce.
E c’è la favola come questa.
Che, mi spiace dirlo, per quanto abbia una bella ambientazione e si rifaccia alla mitologia celtica, non ingrana. Risulta pesante e banale, duro da finire.
Protagonisti
I protagonisti della storia, nella migliore tradizione delle favole, sono due bambini. Pidge, che ha una dozzina di anni, e sua sorella Brigit, di anni cinque.
Pidge è un ragazzino educato e tutto sommato cauto, ragionatore.
Brigit invece è fantasiosa, vivace, impulsiva.
La storia
Pidge, in una libreria in città, si scopre attratto da un vecchio libricino. Lo prende, e lo strano commesso glielo vende senza chiederer soldi in cambio, dopo essersi accertato che lo voglia realmente.
Il libro in realtà è una prigione costruita da San Patrizio, a suo tempo, per Olc-Glas, il serpente velenoso, che era stato così confinato entro alcune pagine, incatenato da alcuni scritti del Santo.
Si scatena così la caccia ad Olc-Glas: da una parte le forze del bene, che guidano i due bambini in un lungo viaggio per trovare un amuleto con il quale distruggere le pagine del serpente; dall’altra parte la Morrigan nei suoi tre aspetti, che vuole assorbire il suo veleno per diventare nuvamente potente come un tempo.
Mitologia celtica
Tutta la storia si svolge in Irlanda, immersi nella mitologia celtica.
Olc-Glas e la Morrigan, Brigit e Angus Og, Cuchulain e la regina Maeve, i druidi e il Dagda.
Gli spiriti degli elementi, le magie malvagie della Morrigan, animali parlanti.
E il mondo “fatato”, nel quale i bambini entreranno per compiere la loro ricerca.
Binari
Peccato però che la loro ricerca sia un po’ una buffonata.
Infatti i cattivi li inseguono ma limitandosi a seguirli, visto che l’amuleto che i bambini cercano (e che solo loro potranno trovare in quanto puri di cuore) è un sasso con il quale Cuchulain colpì Morrigan tempo addietro. Un sasso macchiato del sangue della Dea, e che quindi conserva parte del suo potere. Inutile dire che lei lo rivuole indietro.
I buoni invece ad ogni passo sbucano fuori nelle forme più disparate per indirizzare ed aiutare i bambini, oltre che per cercare di far perdere le loro traccie ai segugi che li seguono.
Alla fin fine, i bambini devono solo farsi coraggio e camminare avanti, i pericoli per loro arriveranno solo quando avranno ormai trovato il sasso e dovranno tornare a recuperare le pagine del serpente per distruggerle.
Tutto il resto del libro è il racconto del loro viaggio, privo di reali pericoli. Una scusa per mostrare il mondo fatato celtico e i suoi abitanti.
Lunghezza
Dato che la maggior parte del libro è un semplice mostrare il mondo fatato, senza reali pericoli o problemi, sarebbe benissimo potuto essere più breve. Invece no, e alla fine il libro risulta di quasi 500 pagine.
Ora, solitamente io leggo molto volentieri libri ben più lunghi di questo, e in minor tempo.
Invece ci ho messo più di una settimana, e mi sono dovuto sforzare per finirlo.
Mi spiace, ma non mi è piaciuto affatto questo libro, me lo aspettavo molto diverso.
Ma c’è favola e favola.
C’è la favola alla Gaiman, come Stardust. Vivace, piena di inventiva, che si lascia leggere velocemente e con piacere, che stupisce.
E c’è la favola come questa.
Che, mi spiace dirlo, per quanto abbia una bella ambientazione e si rifaccia alla mitologia celtica, non ingrana. Risulta pesante e banale, duro da finire.
Protagonisti
I protagonisti della storia, nella migliore tradizione delle favole, sono due bambini. Pidge, che ha una dozzina di anni, e sua sorella Brigit, di anni cinque.
Pidge è un ragazzino educato e tutto sommato cauto, ragionatore.
Brigit invece è fantasiosa, vivace, impulsiva.
La storia
Pidge, in una libreria in città, si scopre attratto da un vecchio libricino. Lo prende, e lo strano commesso glielo vende senza chiederer soldi in cambio, dopo essersi accertato che lo voglia realmente.
Il libro in realtà è una prigione costruita da San Patrizio, a suo tempo, per Olc-Glas, il serpente velenoso, che era stato così confinato entro alcune pagine, incatenato da alcuni scritti del Santo.
Si scatena così la caccia ad Olc-Glas: da una parte le forze del bene, che guidano i due bambini in un lungo viaggio per trovare un amuleto con il quale distruggere le pagine del serpente; dall’altra parte la Morrigan nei suoi tre aspetti, che vuole assorbire il suo veleno per diventare nuvamente potente come un tempo.
Mitologia celtica
Tutta la storia si svolge in Irlanda, immersi nella mitologia celtica.
Olc-Glas e la Morrigan, Brigit e Angus Og, Cuchulain e la regina Maeve, i druidi e il Dagda.
Gli spiriti degli elementi, le magie malvagie della Morrigan, animali parlanti.
E il mondo “fatato”, nel quale i bambini entreranno per compiere la loro ricerca.
Binari
Peccato però che la loro ricerca sia un po’ una buffonata.
Infatti i cattivi li inseguono ma limitandosi a seguirli, visto che l’amuleto che i bambini cercano (e che solo loro potranno trovare in quanto puri di cuore) è un sasso con il quale Cuchulain colpì Morrigan tempo addietro. Un sasso macchiato del sangue della Dea, e che quindi conserva parte del suo potere. Inutile dire che lei lo rivuole indietro.
I buoni invece ad ogni passo sbucano fuori nelle forme più disparate per indirizzare ed aiutare i bambini, oltre che per cercare di far perdere le loro traccie ai segugi che li seguono.
Alla fin fine, i bambini devono solo farsi coraggio e camminare avanti, i pericoli per loro arriveranno solo quando avranno ormai trovato il sasso e dovranno tornare a recuperare le pagine del serpente per distruggerle.
Tutto il resto del libro è il racconto del loro viaggio, privo di reali pericoli. Una scusa per mostrare il mondo fatato celtico e i suoi abitanti.
Lunghezza
Dato che la maggior parte del libro è un semplice mostrare il mondo fatato, senza reali pericoli o problemi, sarebbe benissimo potuto essere più breve. Invece no, e alla fine il libro risulta di quasi 500 pagine.
Ora, solitamente io leggo molto volentieri libri ben più lunghi di questo, e in minor tempo.
Invece ci ho messo più di una settimana, e mi sono dovuto sforzare per finirlo.
Mi spiace, ma non mi è piaciuto affatto questo libro, me lo aspettavo molto diverso.
May 29, 2024
When I was 10 years old – before I knew what fantasy was, before there was Harry Potter or The Golden Compass – this was the story I read and dreamed about and loved. The one that, so to speak, started it all.
“The Hounds of the Mórrígan” by Pat O’Shea is a relatively unknown book. I occasionally come across Irishmen who remember having read it in school or a children’s fantasy enthusiast, who has at least heard of the story, but rarely have I met anyone who loves this book as much as I do.
“Whoever would have thought that the old manuscript in the bookstore could have led them into the journey of a lifetime? This was no fairy story: it was a real quest of good versus evil in which Pidge and his sister Brigit were the crusaders. Their journey began in Ireland, but the destination unknown…”
A brother and sister living in Ireland become involved in the most magical and frightening adventure, that includes talking frogs, evil hounds, a swapping market, magical charm bracelets, and not least heroes and villains from Irish mythology.
A wonderfully wrought tale of the beauty and darkness of both the world as we know it and the world behind the veil. A book with an enticing dreamlike feel that draws you in and makes you believe that anything and everything could happen, and that the next adventure is waiting just around the corner. Or in a dusty bookstore that appeared suddenly in your sleepy town, where you might stumble upon an ancient book containing something that should not be unleashed…
Despite being a children’s book, “The Hounds of the Mórrígan” has very well-written dialogue, genuine and rounded characters and a big and ambitious scope. Somehow, O’Shea manages to immerse the reader in Irish folktales without ever losing the wonder and simplicity of the children’s story, and equally shows the light and dark sides of involving oneself with mythological tales and beings.
And while my adult eyes perhaps see some of the less-than-perfectness, my heart at any age is swept away with Pidge and Bridget every time, as we run from the Mórrígan’s hounds with our hearts in our throats, have magical encounters with Cúchulainn and visit with the folk in the hidden valley.
December 27, 2022
This took a very long time to complete for various reasons, at least some of which I think are the book's fault. Whereas the pace of some books feels good but then is rushed at the end, this one felt good at the end with the first two thirds feeling meandering and plodding.
One thing that I didn't like is that the chapters were wildly inconsistent in terms of length: sometimes barely more than a single page, sometimes fourteen or so. In terms of organization, sometimes there were multiple "scenes" with different sets of characters in a single chapter; other times there were successive chapters following the same characters. I think more predictable chapter organization would have improved this book.
Eventually, after much ado (sometimes with a good helping of deus ex machina), things come together - and gloriously. Part III, chapter 8 is absolutely magnificent. The last third gets five stars, but I can't say that the whole thing is at that level.
There was quite a bit of absurdity that sometimes didn't seem to work so well. We also had the challenge of putting modern world children into the land of faery (and having other modern characters interact with fantasy characters within the "real" world). I find this a very delicate concept that can easily go awry. Fortunately, the book does a good job with this.
If I knew more about the Irish mythology that this book draws upon, I would most probably appreciate it more - and perhaps the earlier parts would be more rewarding because I would have more reliable underpinnings to comprehend the characters and actions. Thankfully, the author provides a brief bibliography. I'll look into those.
One thing that I didn't like is that the chapters were wildly inconsistent in terms of length: sometimes barely more than a single page, sometimes fourteen or so. In terms of organization, sometimes there were multiple "scenes" with different sets of characters in a single chapter; other times there were successive chapters following the same characters. I think more predictable chapter organization would have improved this book.
Eventually, after much ado (sometimes with a good helping of deus ex machina), things come together - and gloriously. Part III, chapter 8 is absolutely magnificent. The last third gets five stars, but I can't say that the whole thing is at that level.
There was quite a bit of absurdity that sometimes didn't seem to work so well. We also had the challenge of putting modern world children into the land of faery (and having other modern characters interact with fantasy characters within the "real" world). I find this a very delicate concept that can easily go awry. Fortunately, the book does a good job with this.
If I knew more about the Irish mythology that this book draws upon, I would most probably appreciate it more - and perhaps the earlier parts would be more rewarding because I would have more reliable underpinnings to comprehend the characters and actions. Thankfully, the author provides a brief bibliography. I'll look into those.
February 16, 2016
Equal parts humor, cute, suspense, folklore and fantasy makes for an excellent read. I wish I could compile all my favorite passages to just prove that this book was very artfully written and deserves a high rating.
Ten-year old Pidge (nickname for P.J. which is short for Patrick James or something) and his five-year old sister Brigit expect to have a normal day waiting for the return of their father from a trip. But they are soon approached by Boodie and Patsy, a delightful odd couple who explain that the book Pidge had bought from a used book store the day prior had released Olc-Glas, a terrible serpent. Olc-Glas is sought by the Goddess of Death, War and Destruction--a three-aspect woman who will now track the children with their hounds. They must find a stone that bears the blood of the Goddess to destroy the serpent, while the Goddess wants the blood to restore her old strength.
The characters they meet along the way are priceless. Some of my favorites include Cooroo, the clever dog-fox who is their companion through the majority of the quest, Pudeneen, the hapless frog, and the Seven Maines, first seen with just their heads as they had been beheaded during a previous war. The humor and yet the depth of these side characters helps the serious quest of the children move along and touched me.
I had read this many years ago and I remember loving it then. Rereading it now, I had not remembered much of the story at all and have discovered that even though many years have passed since I last read it, I still treasure the story.
Ten-year old Pidge (nickname for P.J. which is short for Patrick James or something) and his five-year old sister Brigit expect to have a normal day waiting for the return of their father from a trip. But they are soon approached by Boodie and Patsy, a delightful odd couple who explain that the book Pidge had bought from a used book store the day prior had released Olc-Glas, a terrible serpent. Olc-Glas is sought by the Goddess of Death, War and Destruction--a three-aspect woman who will now track the children with their hounds. They must find a stone that bears the blood of the Goddess to destroy the serpent, while the Goddess wants the blood to restore her old strength.
The characters they meet along the way are priceless. Some of my favorites include Cooroo, the clever dog-fox who is their companion through the majority of the quest, Pudeneen, the hapless frog, and the Seven Maines, first seen with just their heads as they had been beheaded during a previous war. The humor and yet the depth of these side characters helps the serious quest of the children move along and touched me.
I had read this many years ago and I remember loving it then. Rereading it now, I had not remembered much of the story at all and have discovered that even though many years have passed since I last read it, I still treasure the story.
March 30, 2010
Two Irish kids accept a quest to save the world(s) from the old goddess Morrigan gaining her full power. On the way they meet talking animals and strange, yet endearing people. They all come to full circle in a battle at the end but it doesn't end there. There's one final task Pidge and Brigit must perform to end Morrigan's power once and for all.
A familiar, comfortable fantasy, for the children to young adult crowd. It's light reading and unoffensive. The characters are enjoyable and have their own unique qualities.
The payoff in the end is a little hallow. Probably because the story is meant for younger readers, but there are a few threads not completely finished - the hounds that may turn on their master don't turn much and the idea that the children should not run while the hounds can see them is never fully realized. And to end the book, their minds are erased so they can only get vague feelings and deja vu. I suppose it's for the best, so they can grow up normal, but they really liked the animals and people they met and to lose that connection seems mean.
The moral to the story seems to be do as your told and give it your best. And have hazelnuts in your pocket for convenient saves by Dagda.
A familiar, comfortable fantasy, for the children to young adult crowd. It's light reading and unoffensive. The characters are enjoyable and have their own unique qualities.
The payoff in the end is a little hallow. Probably because the story is meant for younger readers, but there are a few threads not completely finished - the hounds that may turn on their master don't turn much and the idea that the children should not run while the hounds can see them is never fully realized. And to end the book, their minds are erased so they can only get vague feelings and deja vu. I suppose it's for the best, so they can grow up normal, but they really liked the animals and people they met and to lose that connection seems mean.
The moral to the story seems to be do as your told and give it your best. And have hazelnuts in your pocket for convenient saves by Dagda.
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