I watched The Secret of Roan Inish a few nights past filmed in 1993. It took place on an Irish Island in this movie called Roan Inish, which was shared by the seals and the islanders.
In the legends from Ireland, Iceland and Scotland there is a mythological creature that can transform itself from a seal into a human. They can be of either sex though the selkie in this movie was female. If one can find the selkie's seal skin when they are in the human form, they will be at your mercy. If the selkie finds its own seal skin, it will immediately put it on and return to the sea. The stories say they have married humans and have had offspring from these marriages. There actually, are some families that have traced their lineage to include the selkie!The legend is said to have originated on the Orkney Islands, a part of Scotland in the north. Selch or selkie are the Scots words for seal. Wikipedia mentions that seal comes from the Old English word of seolh. The other spellings of selkie are silkie or selchie.
One knows that having such an interesting legendary creature as part of Irish, Scottish or Icelandic mythological history,would make for an interesting ballad. There happens to be one written about this creature and I located it among the Child Ballads. It is listed as number 113, which is entitled: The Great Selkie of Sule Skerrie.
One more note, a skerrie is a small island usually composed of lumps of rocks or boulders that are present during low tide and generally disappear during high tides. At low tide one can see or hear the seals resting on them. There actually is a skerrie some distance northwest of the Orkney Islands that is called Sule Skerrie!
Here is the ballad telling the story of the Great Selkie of Sule Skerrie.
1.An earthly nourris sits and sings,
And aye, she sings, by lily wean!
Little ken I my bairn's father,
Far less the land where he dwells in.
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2.Then he arose at her bed-feet,
And a grumbly guest, I'm sure was he:
"Here am I, thy bairns father,
Although I be not comelie."
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3."I am a man upon the land,
I am a Selkie in the sea;
And when I'm far and far frae land,
My dwelling is in Sule Skerrie."
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4."It was na weel," quo the maiden fair.
"It was na weel, indeed," quo she,
"That the Great Selkie of Sule Skerrie
Suld hae come and aught a bairn to me."
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5.Now he has taen a purse of gold,
And he has pat it upon her knee,
Sayin, "Gie to me my little young son,
And tak thee up thy nourris-fee."
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6.Ane it shall come to pass on a simmer's day,
When the sin shines het on evera stane,
That I will tak my wee young son,
And teach him for to swim the faem.
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7.And thou shall marry a proud gunner,
And a proud gunner I'm sure he'll be,
And the very first shot that ere he shoots,
He'll shoot baith my young son and me.
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10 comments:
This is cool...I knew what skerries were, but I had never heard of a selkie before. Fascinating legend...sounds like a great movie, too!
What a coincidence. I just, last night, finished reading Middlesex. Sort of the same, but different. My mother's family came from the old sod and I used to love to hear my aunts tell all the old tales.
Greg: I have always loved reading about the legends of different countries and how they tie in to their lifestyle. I know the Irish have always had vivid stories of the "little-people" and all the creatures that go with it. There are surprisingly quite a few members of my family who carry on the traditions of the stories and believe them with their whole heart. I think it enriches our lives.
Lacey: Evidently, many of those old stories are still carried down the generations in my family as well. The more "country" where my kin dwell, the more the stories are alive and well.
I've always loved the selkie stories, or indeed any that concerned animal shape-shifters. I wonder if my own desire to be amphibious says something about my ancestry?
Gotta love those Celtic songs that have to pile on the tragedy. It's not enough that she was apparently raped (or at least abandoned) by a Selkie; it's not enough that her child is ripped away from her, purse of gold notwithstanding. Nope, the story also has to have her new husband killing both father and son. The Celts don't do things by halves.
Patrick: One couldn't imagine a culture that has a more vivid story telling than the Irish or other Celtic lines.
Regarding the song, most likely, she was seduced by the most handsome selkie who had hidden his own seal skin for safe keeping.
The Irish are known not to tempt fate by celebrating full tilt because there is always the other side of the coin needing its attention. It reminds me of an old Stephen Foster ( 1st generation Irish ) entitled, "Hard Times." The first starts out in typical Irish thinking:
" Let us pause in life's pleasures & count its many tears
while we all sup sorrow with the poor.
There's a song that will linger, forever in our ears,
Oh, hard times come again no more..."
It seems we always temper our joy with our grief. You are so right that the Celts never do things by half. ;-)
My father used to sing this song to us among many others, as we drifted off to sleep. The words to this song always seemed to enter my dreams, along with the silky phrasings of my father's guitar. Thank you for bringing this back to my present, as it has been too long buried.
Tater: You are most welcome! I used to perform this one many years ago but didn't really know the history of it until much later when I became interested in my Irish lineage. I am back playing and singing in the Celtic genre and have included this back in the repertoire. It sounds like your father shared an important part of his life with you and your siblings. If he is alive, you should ask him to sing it again, I can't think of a more fitting way to honor that beautiful memory of yours.
Oh, the Irish know how to tell a tale or two. Some of the best in the world. It's the Blarney gene - and a little spirit, methinks.
They certainly don't shy away from a bit of gritty mayhem. Some of the yarns were no doubt inspired by the local broadsheets. Here's a classic:
On The Banks Of Red Roses
When I was a wee thing, I heard my mother say
That I was meant for rambling and would easy go astray
And before that I would work, I would rather sport and play
With my Johnny on the banks of red roses
On the banks of red roses, my love and I sat doon
He took out his tuning box to play his love a tune
In the middle of the tune, his love got up and cried
Oh Johnny, lovely Johnny, would you leave me?
So they walked and they talked until they came upon a cave
Where the night before her darling had spent digging on her grave
Aye, the night before her darling had spent digging on her grave
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of red roses
Oh no, oh no, cried she, that grave's not meant for me
Yes, oh yes, my darling, that your bridal bed shall be
Yes, oh yes, my darling, that your bridal bed shall be
And he's made her to lie down on red roses
And all on his way homeward, his heart was filled with fear
Every maid he came upon, he thought it was his dear
Yes, every maid he came upon, he thought it was his dear
Who he made to lie down on red roses
Joe: Oh, I know that tune well. Thanks for awakening my memory of it since I havn't sung it in many years. Perhaps I'll dust it off and give it another whirl. It's a beautiful melody as well making the singer stretch their vocal range to accommodate it. The story is so typically "Irish."
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