“ Finn pressed the cruel spear-head closer to his forehead, and saw every torch fall, save one which wavered as if held by a drunken man, and beneath it a giant figure that reeled and tottered and strove in vain to keep its feet. It was Conn the Hundred-Fighter. As he fell there was a roar as of many waters; it was the ocean mourning for the high King’s fall. Finn passed through the fallen men and stood alone on the dark hill-side. He heard the feet of the enchanter splashing through the Boyne, and saw his huge form ascending the slopes of Tara. ”
Summary
The Irish Fairy Book is a compilation of traditional Irish folklore and mythological stories, though its author is not credited in the provided information. The work focuses on legendary figures such as Finn, the Feni, and Saint Kavin, as well as mysterious beings like the giant Far Rua and the mythical land of Erin.
Themes of magical change, heroic endeavors, and encounters with otherworldly forces dominate, as seen in tales involving enchanted steeds, fairy-imposed curses, and clashes with sorcerers like Allen, son of Midna. The narratives intertwine myth with moral lessons, echoing the oral heritage of Irish legend. Through vivid portrayals of mythical beings and grand conflicts, the text safeguards the cultural and supernatural legacy of Celtic folklore.
Quotes from The Irish Fairy Book ()
“ If thou layest foot on level ground thou shalt not come again for ever to this fine land in which I am myself. I say to thee again without guile, if thou alightest once off the white steed thou wilt never more come to the ‘Land of Youth,’ O golden Oisin of the warlike arms! I say to thee for the third time, if thou alightest off the steed thyself thou wilt be an old man, withered and blind, without activity, without pleasure, without run, without leap. ’Tis a woe to me, O loving Oisin, that thou ever goest to green Erin; ’tis not now as it has been; and thou never shalt see Fionn of the hosts. ”
“ His name is Allen, son of Midna, and his enmity to me is as great as his power. Once every year, at this season, it is his pleasure to burn Tara. Descending out of his wizard haunts, he standeth over against the city and shoots balls of fire out of his mouth against it, till it is consumed. Then he goes away mocking and triumphant. This annual building of Tara, only to be annually consumed, is a shame to me, and till this enchanter declared war against me, I have lived without reproach.”“But,” said Finn, “how is it that thy young warriors, valiant and swift, do not repel him, or kill him?” ”
