The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle

I was browsing Pinterest a while back, and I came across someone lamenting the lack of reverse-gender Beauty and the Beast type fairy tales. There actually are a few, and it made me remember one of my very favorite stories, The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle. Anyway, I kept planning on making a post about the story, but I never got around to it, as usual. But here I am! With a post. Let us begin.

Arthur and his knights have gone on a hunting trip in Inglewood Forest. They see a large hart, and Arthur separates from his knights to chase it, going off alone. Arthur finally manages to kill it, but right after, a knight he does not know comes up to him. The knight tells him that Arthur has wronged him for many years, for Arthur has given his land to Sir Gawain. He also threatens to kill Arthur, which is nice. What better way of resolving your legal disputes than to throw the kingdom into peril, am I right? Arthur asks for his name, and the knight replies that his name is Sir Gromer-Somer Joure.

I have to ask how that’s pronounced. Like. Does it rhyme. It sounds hard to say.

Anyway, Arthur suggests that they settle this like normal people, but since no one in Arthuriana is normal, Sir Gromer refuses, claiming that if he does, the king will only “defy me another time,” or some nonsense like that. Arthur points out that it would be dishonourable to kill him while he’s without armor, and the knight replies that he doesn’t want land or gold. (Why are you making an issue of this, then.) Instead, because everyone in these stories is an idiot besides Guinevere, the knight says that King Arthur has to meet him at this place in twelve-months time and tell him what it is that all women love best. If King Arthur can’t answer, he’ll kill him.

You know. Because every woman thinks the exact same way. It makes sense.

Also, I don’t believe this guy actually had his land stolen. Call me skeptical.

Later that evening, Gawain asks him what is wrong, because Arthur isn’t exactly hiding it well. Arthur says that he vowed to keep it a secret, but Gawain says he would never tell anyone, so Arthur confides the issue to him. Gawain suggests that they both ride out over the country, both going separate ways, and ask every man and woman for their answer to the riddle, and they would record the answers in a book. So basically, a survey! Not a bad idea.

They get many different answers; some say that what women want most is pretty clothes, some say that they want to be courted, some say that what women love most is to make out. By the time Gawain gets back to court, his book has been almost filled up. He and Arthur pool their answers, and Gawain is confident that the right answer is in there somewhere. Arthur is not so sure, however, and he decides to go back out into Inglewood Forest.

There, he meets a very ugly lady.

I can’t really beat the description from the translation of the ballad that I found, so: ” Her face was red and covered with snot, her mouth huge, and all her teeth yellow, hanging over her lips. Her bleary eyes were greater than a ball, and her cheeks were as broad as women’s hips.  She had a hump on her back, her neck was long and thick, and her hair clotted into a heap. She was made like a barrel, with shoulders a yard wide and hanging breasts that were large enough to be a horse’s load. No tongue can tell of the foulness and ugliness of that lady. “

I told you. I couldn’t beat that description.

She sits on a fine horse adorned with gold, and she rides up to Arthur, telling him that she knows his secret and how to save him–only if she saves him, she gets to marry Sir Gawain.

Arthur points out that he can’t force Gawain to marry her, which goes a long way towards getting Arthur on my good side. But he says that he will tell Sir Gawain. “He will be loath to refuse my request,” says the king, “but I would regret causing Gawain to wed the foulest lady I have ever seen. I don’t know what to do.” She replies that even an owl may choose its mate, and that her name is Dame Ragnelle, “who has never yet beguiled man.”

Gawain, when he hears of it, says that he would wed her if she looked like Beelzebub, as long as it saved his king. Aww.

When Arthur goes to give Sir Gromer-Somer Joure his answer, Dame Ragnelle meets him along the way. “Sir, you will now know, without digression, what women of all degrees want most,” Dame Ragnelle responds. “Some men say we desire to be beautiful and that we want to consort with diverse strange men; also we love lust in bed and often wish to wed. Thus men misunderstand women. Another idea they have is that we want to be seen as young and fresh, not old, and that women can be won through flattery and clever ploys. In truth, you act foolishly. The one thing that we desire of men above all else is to have complete sovereignty, so that all is ours. We use our skill to gain mastery over the most fierce, victorious and manly of knights.  So go on your way and tell this to the knight, who will be angry and curse the one who taught it to you, for his labour is lost. I assure you that your life is now safe, and remember your promise.”

So King Arthur goes to the knight and gives him the book to look through. I just caught that he is stalling for Gawain’s sake. Aww. Is this the most functional this family has ever been?

Anyway, the answers in the book do not satisfy Sir Gromer, and he makes ready to kill him. Arthur finally tells him that the answer is sovereignty. Sir Gromer literally says that he wants Ragnelle to die in a fire. And he also says that Ragnelle is his sister. I see that they’re functional. He laments that he’ll never have Arthur at such a point again, and Arthur assures him that he’ll make sure of that. Arthur turns his horse and leaves, and on his way back, he meets Dame Ragnelle at the same place she was before.

Ragnelle tells Arthur that she fulfilled her end of the bargain, and now it’s Arthur’s turn. He says he will and asks her to follow his advice, but she knows what he’s about to say and cuts him off.

“No, Sir King, I will not do so,” she says. “I will be married openly before I part from you, or you will be shamed! You ride ahead of me and I will follow you to your court. Remember how I have saved your life; therefore you should cause me no strife, which would be blameworthy.”

They go to Arthur’s court at Carlisle (a city, not to be confused with Carlisle, the vampire). Ragnelle insists on a large wedding. Guinevere asks her to have a private ceremony, for the sake of Sir Gawain, but Ragnelle tells her that she will be married publicly. And she is, in a red gown even more beautiful than the queen’s. At the feast after the wedding, she eats enough for six men, tearing apart the food with her three-inch long nails. I like the visual very much.

After the feast, Gawain and Ragnelle go to their bedchamber. She asks him to kiss her. “I will do more than kiss you, and before God!” Gawain says. When he turns to her, instead of a hag, he sees a beautiful woman.

Ragnelle explains that he has a choice; he can either choose that she look beautiful in the day and ugly at night, or beautiful at night and ugly during the day.* Gawain says he doesn’t know which would be better, and tells her that the choice is up to her, because Gawain is a wonderful person who understands that it really is Ragnelle’s choice, anyway.

*I had to proofread this sentence so many times. You didn’t ask to know this, but now you know.

It turns out that this is the right thing to do to break the curse, and now Ragnelle will be beautiful both day and night. She explains that her stepmother laid a curse on her, and Gawain broke it by giving her her sovereignty.

And they were very happy till morning. 😉

Arthur and Guinevere were grateful to Ragnelle after they found out about the curse. King Arthur forgave Ragnelle’s brother, even though Arthur and her brother still didn’t get along very well after that, and Ragnelle lived happily with Gawain for the rest of her life–although, unfortunately, her life wasn’t very long. She lived with him five years before dying of an illness, because this story is determined to rip out my heart.

Anyway, this is a wonderful story with an amazing message. Happy (late) Valentine’s day, and may you find a partner like Gawain or Ragnelle. Or, if you plan on being single (*high-fives you*), may you live it up like Dinadan did. Courtly love kills people and is overrated anyway.

Also, I have over fifty followers now! Thank you so much! I can’t believe over fifty people wanted to listen to me ramble about different things here. 🙂

Also, I found the story here, if you want to give it a read.

So, About Celtic Fairies (part 1)

So! IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT THERE IS MISINFORMATION ON THE INTERNET. Like, seriously. Some of those little infographics about fairies that I’ve seen on Pinterest get over half their information wrong. It’s just…if you’re going to make a worldbuilding post, make a worldbuilding post! Don’t say that this is what whatever century Irish peasants believed! For heaven’s sake. So I am here, set to clear up misinformation about fairies and possibly accidentally spread it anyway! But let’s hope for the best.

Disclaimer: This post deals with Celtic fairies, and, more specifically, Irish fairies; much of this information applies to British folklore too, I think, but Irish fairies are what I studied obsessively during my teen years. Also, it’s certainly possible that I may be a massive hypocrite and get over half my information wrong, but if I do, please correct me. I try to fact-check as carefully as I can, but I’m only human (or am I ooh)

So! Let’s have a little Q & A! We’ll call this imaginary questioner ‘Person 1’, P1 for short. ‘M’ is for ‘Mothling’.

P1: Oh! Fairies! Those cute little winged things in gardens, right? Tinkerbell!!!

M: …No. That’s a Victorian trope. I’m honestly not sure if there are any fairies of the sort I speak of that have wings, and not all fairies are little. Some are. Definitely not all. Some have very…changeable size; in their true form they’re probably smallish, but try getting them to tell you that. Let’s not generalize here!

And we do not talk about Tinkerbell. She has her merits, but she’s not the topic of this conversation.

You know, I’ve somehow lived my life without reading Peter Pan? I’ve read Alice in Wonderland and Pinocchio. Pinocchio was a bizarre book, frankly speaking, although I still liked it. But I’m not letting this turn into a review of Pinocchio.

P1: Alright, so by fairies you mean those wicked and dark creatures in YA, treating mortals as their playthings and without a care in the world for any creature but themselves. They’re so scary and immoral, aren’t they?

M: …

…

Sort of? I guess? Not really? I’m talking about folklore fairies. They’re…kind of like that? (Not in the same way, though.)

OKAY, FINE, I’VE HAD ENOUGH. THE WORD IS AMORAL. NOT IMMORAL. I’ve just always interpreted the fey morality structure as being outside of a human construct, and I mean, I guess you can just make them like especially wicked humans if you want to, with the same motivations and the same impulses?? But I mean, why would you want to. (This has been a callout post to The Cruel Prince. Sorry not sorry. It’s just not how I like my fairies.)

Also, fairies do good things as well. They do. Sometimes they help humans. Sometimes they don’t. They aren’t all bad all the time, and it’s a little ridiculous to write them that way.

So no, we’re not really talking about those, either. As a side note, I’d prefer it if YA would stop talking about how their darker takes on fairies are closer to how original fairies were portrayed. No you’re not closer. You are certainly not.

P1: [grabs my arms (wings?)] TELL ME ABOUT CHANGELINGS.

M: Okay! Ease up there! That’s when a fairy steals a human child from the cradle and leaves a fairy child in its place, which is called a changeling. The fairy child is usually ill-tempered, cries a lot, and remains scrawny despite guzzling much more milk than a normal child. The fairy child is not always an actual child! There is one fairy tale where the changeling admitted to being thousands of years old. Why you’d be thousands of years old and masquerade as a baby, which is one of the most boring creatures in existence, God only knows. Some of them really are fairy children, though! Like a lot of things in folklore, it seems to vary.

Oh. And also, the fairy child usually met a horrific death at the hands of their human parents. And the ‘fairy child’ was probably a sick baby, a disabled child, or simply an abuse victim with unloving parents (look, you can’t tell me awful parents didn’t take advantage of that superstition). Man, I’ve just made myself depressed. I remember searching and searching for a story about a changeling with a happy ending for the fairy, and I found maybe a couple? A couple in a whole sea of stories about murdered babies. People really believed this stuff. They really murdered their children because of a superstition.

As for why the fairies were supposed to do this? I honestly don’t know if there was much of an explanation. I remember reading something about ‘human babies are prettier and they like that better’, but first of all, let’s be real. That makes literally no sense. Can we all just agree that newborn babies are ugly? And also, I’m sure humans feel that their children are worth exchanging the literal world for, but…that seems like quite a bit of inconvenience to go through for one baby. Yeah! I just don’t get it! If you do know of an in-folklore explanation, please do tell me, because I have been wondering about this for quite a while. It seems to be one of those things that just happens, with no reasonable explanation.

P1: So, is anyone else at risk of getting kidnapped?

M: Oh, yeah. Women get kidnapped as brides or nursemaids all the time. I’m also pretty sure that Lady Wilde spoke of human men getting kidnapped and forced into marriage, too, but I can’t find the link right now. Darn it.

Also, from what I can tell, children usually get replaced with an actual fairy; adults usually get replaced with a stick or other small object that has been enchanted to look like them, or else they’ll just disappear suddenly. That’s what I remember, anyway. Allow me to go off and read through all those changeling stories before I commit to this, though. I know I have never read a story where a fairy lives in the place of an adult human, but that certainly doesn’t mean there isn’t one. Honestly, that sounds like it’d make a cool YA book.

Oh, and the illusion ‘dies’ shortly after it’s left there. Changelings get killed or forcibly removed, or else they’ll just stay with the family.

I certainly have read tales of male and female artisans getting captured. There was one cute one about how the fairies kidnapped a woman who was an especially good baker (unsure how old it is though, sorry), and I’ve read another about the fairies kidnapping a blacksmith. Also, apparently, some of the kidnapped people end up as enchanted slaves. How decent of fairies. I am disgusted. (This has also been a fairy callout post and I’m not sure if I’m going to make it to the end of this oh no)

Anyway, kidnapping seems to be kind of their thing.

Basically, if this blog ever goes defunct for no apparent reason, you know what got me!

College. College got me.

Oh! And there are also stories about how the fairies teach the kidnapped girls magic before they send them home. Which is nice, I guess! Not sure if it really makes up for the kidnapping, though. But thanks for trying!

There are also stories about human men kidnapping fairy brides and forcing them into marriage, as you do. (For instance, selkie brides.) Those stories tend to end horribly. As they should! Don’t be a terrible person.

Oh, and by the way, my source for a lot of this section is this. If you’re interested.

P1: There aren’t any stories about human sacrifice, are there?

M: Yes! There are indeed one or two. The most famous one is Tam Lin, of course, where the fairy queen has to pay a teind to hell once every seven years. Lady Wilde also briefly mentions a tradition about human sacrifice. I’m not sure who else talks about it, but do tell me if you know of anything.

P1: …

TELL ME HOW I MAY BE SAFE FROM THEM.

M: Salt! Lots of salt. Salt is good for more than just flavoring. In fact, it’s excellent.

People talk about iron as protection, but one person in a forum somewhere asked where, exactly, people were getting that, and that made me realize that…they’re right? I don’t remember a lot of 19th century collectors of folktales talking about that? Definitely one 17th century guy did. Something something iron is bad because…something something hellfire?! I don’t get it either. I’m sure it makes sense if you’re from the 17th century. (And if you can actually understand the words; I never claimed to be educated) Anyway, if you know of anyone else who speaks about cold iron in relation to fairies, again, do tell me!

Church bells are also excellent, and bread is one we nowadays wouldn’t think of, but Wikipedia says it works! I feel like I might have also read about fire being a source of protection? Idk, man. I’ll try and find it for you. I’m sure there’s other stuff you can do. But, as always, the best protection you can have is being the main character of a fairy tale. Particularly if you’re a bright, clever maiden with a good sense of humor. Those seem to do the best in these types of tales. More seriously, civility and cleverness are the best protection you can have in any situation, and that holds true with fairies, too.

Oh, hey, look at that! I was right about the fire. From Lady Wilde:

Fire is a great preventative against fairy magic, for fire is the most sacred of all created things, and man alone has power over it. No animal has ever yet attained the knowledge of how to draw out the spirit of fire from the stone or the wood, where it has found a dwelling-place. If a ring of fire is made round cattle or a child’s cradle, or if fire is placed under the churn, the fairies have no power to harm. And the spirit of the fire is certain to destroy all fairy magic, if it exist.

I love it when I’m right. Also, quite a few of the changeling stories involve burning the changeling, so maybe I don’t love it when I’m right.

P1: Okay, so where do fairies live?

M: Most of them live in caves and in raths! OH ALSO. I almost forgot to tell you. Do not do not do not mess with fairy ground. Do not build something on it. Do not cut shrubbery on it. Do not even do something seemingly small like plucking a few blades of grass. YOU WILL DIE AND YOUR FARMS WILL BE CURSED. Just don’t do it. I don’t care what you want to do, it’s not worth it. Build somewhere else.

Also, why are you thinking about building on ancient sites anyway? My history-loving heart is angry. Leave the raths alone.

Although, where fairies live depends on the type of fairy, of course! It’s variable. Some live underwater. Some even live in your house!

They’re there. You just can’t see them. >:-)

P1: Dancing?

M: WHY YES INDEED.

Dancing and music is very important. In fact, fairy rings are left there when the fairies dance! And sometimes humans try and join in the dance, which can end badly for the human. Sometimes you’ll be alright. Sometimes you dance to your death. 😉

Not fairy music, but certainly Irish! Also why won’t WordPress center my captions
This has been bothering me

P1: Can they go to heaven?

M: That would depend on who you ask! Usually, the story goes that a group of fairies come up to a traveling priest and ask him if it is possible for them to achieve salvation. The priest always answers no. In some stories, that’s the end of it, and the fairies let out a great cry and sometimes burn down their home.

But there’s also another version, although I’m not sure where I found it. A priest says that the chances of a fairy getting into heaven is as likely as his staff going into bloom. As soon as he leaves, his staff immediately sprouts flowers, and he has to go back and apologize. I don’t remember where I read that, though, so take it with a grain of salt I guess >_<

Okay! I finally found it. It was Swedish, but I’ll leave it here because it’s a cool story.

But my favorite answer from a priest is this: “I will give you a favorable answer, if you can make me a hopeful one. Do you adore and love the Son of God?”

They have no answer.

You can find the stories mentioned here, by the way.

Uh…There’s definitely more to say, but I have realized that this is getting really, really long. I might split this up into two parts? Also, most of my information is from Lady Wilde’s Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms, and Superstitions of Ireland, and if it’s not from there than it’s probably either from Wikipedia or else I found it once upon a researching session. If you have any more questions, ask them in the comments!

Also, I’m sorry if there are any weird typos. It’s a long article and WordPress kept having bugs. I hope I caught everything. >_<

So, in conclusion, fairies are our amazing problematic faves, and I hope you learned something new! I love fairies. A lot. (So please don’t kill me for any of the rude things I said about you, any fairies who might be reading this blog. I don’t mean it, much.)

The Skeleton Harp–A “The Twa Sisters” short story

I have come to you today with a short story retelling a English/Scottish ballad! There are tons of versions of this, some showing up in places as far away as Sweden or Norway. And it shows up in other places in Northern Europe, too. Basically, it’s an old story that has had time to spread around.

It seems like posting a story once a month has sort of become a bit of a thing for me lately. I haven’t been writing much this month (I’ve begun to get started again, but I’m still sort of trying to find my groove), but I’d written this one last month. So! Here you go.

Variants of the ballad may be found here; a version put into song may be found here; and my Pinterest board (yes, of course I made a Pinterest board) may be found here.

There had been silence in the castle ever since their sister Isobel had fallen into the river by the mill, and right now it hung over the great hall, feeling tangible. Even the knights and servants were quiet as they ate, the only sounds an occasional clink of metal or a murmur as someone whispered something. The silence surrounded them all and cloaked them like a funeral shroud, and Jane felt smothered and choked by it. “The river has flooded,” Jane said softly, just to say something. She leaned into her older sister Ellen and listened to the rain begin to sprinkle down in the courtyard. “William said so when he came in.” William was the only person who would listen to her speak now, the only one who’d listen as she babbled some nothing as she embroidered, the only one who told her the gossip from the town. She was in a sorry state when the only person who would talk to her was a man she despised.

Jane huddled into her cloak, but the cold still bit into her. William was her father’s knight and her sisters’ lover—both her sisters. He had courted Ellen, giving her all kinds of gifts, but that hadn’t stopped him from kissing Isobel when no one else was there. Except Jane. Because she kept walking in on them by accident. Jane had hated them both, and hated the smile on Ellen’s face whenever William walked in the room. She’d kept quiet, until William began to talk to her father of marriage. Then she’d finally broke and told Ellen. Ellen had listened, her lips tight, but her only change was her treatment of Isobel, and she never sent William away. Jane wasn’t sure what she had expected to happen. Isobel had drowned a month later, walking along the river strand. Ellen had cried herself to sleep for months afterwards, and she’d barely had an appetite since it happened. She was too thin.

Jane scraped her chicken onto Ellen’s plate with a smile. The knife scratched loudly against her plate, earning her a look from her father. Ellen looked at it and pushed it away. Jane’s smile faded into a bitter grimace, her hands clutching the cold wood of her chair. There was an emptiness to this castle that could not be chased away, no matter how many nice things she did. It had always been there. But now it tightened around their necks like the noose.

A loud crack of thunder pealed, and the rain began in earnest, pelting the stone. The doors of the hall were thrown open with a crash, and a dead woman walked through them, her skin stretched tight over her body and a skeleton smile on her face. Jane’s father sprang to his feet with a loud curse, the only life this hall had seen in months. Ellen did nothing except watch the woman with a fanatic expression almost as dead as hers.

The only living thing the woman had was her golden hair, bright and gleaming and falling down past her waist. There was something horribly familiar about her hair, but Jane would not think why. “I come bringing a miracle and a curse,” the woman said in a rich, resounding voice. “But this place will no longer hold miracles, and so I deliver only the curse.”

 “What devil dares impersonate my daughter?” her mother whispered. The cold dread that had been coming over Jane washed over her in a flood, nearly bringing her to her knees. So her mother had noticed, too. “Begone from this place.”

“I am no devil,” said Isobel, with a smile that sent a shiver through Jane. “I am nothing but the river.” She waited for a response, but none came. She shrugged and brought out a harp from behind her. Jane did not realize at first what it was made of until it hit her in a horrible realization. She clapped a hand to her mouth, trying to push down the vomit rising in her. This was a nightmare. “A harper found my body and cut my breast-bone for his harp and took my hair for his strings,” Isobel said with a laugh. “He thought he could make a fortune with the magic, but the magic sung him to madness and took his soul. He clawed out his own eyes,” she added happily. Someone had desecrated her sister’s body? Or…She couldn’t process it anymore. “But it was magic, and dark magic, too.” She stepped back, and the harp began to sing, and this was Isobel’s voice, high and clear.

Farewell, my father and mother dear, and another song intertwined with it to sing of a sister who pushed the younger in as they were walking along the river strand,

By the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie,

Farewell to William my sweetheart,

Binnorie, O, Binnorie,

And woe to my sister who drowned me,

By the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie.

The harp broke with a loud crack that sounded through the room. “Sister?” said Isobel to Ellen, holding out her hand.

“Of course,” Ellen whispered viciously, walking over to her. She took the hand, and Isobel began to lead Ellen out of the room.

“No!” Jane screamed, running toward them. “No, leave her!” Her parents did nothing. She clawed at Isobel’s hand, but both her sisters shoved her to the floor.

“A life for a life,” Ellen said. “That is what you desire, isn’t it, river?”

She tossed a smile over her shoulder at Ellen. “It is possible.” Jane jumped back to her feet, pulling at Ellen and trying to tear her away from this spirit, but she couldn’t break Isobel’s grip. She fell down, feeling as if all the strength were gone from her body. She tried to push herself up, and found she couldn’t.

“Take me,” she pleaded. “Take me instead.”

“No, Jane,” Isobel said. “You have no part in this. Leave this place and find a home.” And she led Ellen out the doors and into the misty rain.

I feel like that was unusually dark even for me. Wow.

The number of sisters varies from version to version. Most of the ballads only have two sisters, but a few have three, and I opted to tell it from the point of view of the third sister because, frankly, she is the only sister who comes out of this ballad looking okay. I don’t know that there are any versions where the ghost (or…whatever she was) of the sister comes to the castle rather than the harper, but hey, artistic license.

Tam Lin

Yes, I drew this, and I hope you admire those Celtic knots because THEY TOOK ME HOURS TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO THEM.

A bunch of different versions of this ballad can be found here. My favorite is this one.

I first came across this story when I was eleven, when I read a retelling called The Perilous Gard. It was a great book, although I probably appreciate it more now that I’m older. I realized it was based off of an actual ballad when I was about fourteen, so of course I had to look it up. And wow is it a strange story. Tam Lin is…Well. I’ll admit I mostly love this poem for Janet, who is very lovable. But anyway. The story.

Tam Lin is some loser fairy who is just living in Carterhaugh woods and creepily hitting on all the maidens who pass through there, because it’s not like fairies have anything better to do with their time. Whenever a woman passes through there, he demands they either leave him a gold ring, a green mantle, or their maidenhead.

…OKAY, YOU CREEP.

Janet, our heroine, just happens to own Carterhaugh, and decides to give this loser fairy a talk. Or perhaps she’s looking for an easy way to get a one-night stand. The story isn’t really clear, and knowing Janet, it really could be either one. But either way, she goes there and come to a well, where she sees his horse standing there, but Tam Lin is nowhere to be seen. She plucks a rose for…some reason, whereupon Tam Lin shows up and asks her why she has come to Carterhaugh without asking leave of him. She points out that she owns the place, which is reasonable enough.

There are kind of Beauty and the Beast parallels in that moment.

And then they start making out and end up sleeping together (there is also a version where he rapes her but WE DON’T TALK ABOUT THAT ONE). I am still not exactly sure how they got from having a property dispute to hardcore making out. That is worse than some YA.

The poem shifts scenes to Janet at home, wan and pale, who has just realized she is pregnant. One of her father’s knights accuses her of this, telling her she has shamed them, and Janet replies,

” Now hand your tongue, ye auld grey knight,
And an ill deid may ye die !
Father my bairn on whom I will,
I’ll father nane on thee.’ “

Can we all take a moment to admire Janet’s awesomeness.

Her father also asks her about it, much more politely, and she tells him that she didn’t sleep with any of his knights, but a fairy, and she calls Tam Lin her true love, which aww. I’m not sure how exactly she knew him long enough to make that statement, but whatever.

I do love this scene. Janet isn’t demonized for premarital sex, and the knight who tries to call her out is in fact criticized. Her father is understandably upset, considering the social repercussions of the time period, but he doesn’t blame Janet for it. Janet and her father obviously both love each other a lot. And good parental relationships can be hard to find in fairy tales, especially when they’re about topics like this.

Janet is considering aborting the baby, and she goes back to Carterhaugh to talk to Tam Lin about it. She picks another rose–Is that her way of summoning him or something?–and Tam Lin asks her not to kill the baby. He then regales her with his life story, telling her about how he was some random nobleman’s son, and he went out riding, and the fairy queen kidnapped him when he fell off his horse. So…I guess he’s human? But he literally says in the next stanza, ‘I am a fairy, lyth and limb.’ I am confused.

He tells her that he has been living there for seven years, and that he basically loves it. He wouldn’t mind staying there his whole life, except for the human sacrifice bit.

Yes, there’s a human sacrifice bit. Every seven years, the fairies have to pay a teind to hell on All Hallow’s Eve, and Tam Lin tells Janet he thinks he will be the sacrifice this year. Honestly, I kind of wonder if Tam Lin would want to leave if it had been some other poor bloke getting sacrificed. He doesn’t really seem to have as much a problem with the human sacrifice except insofar as it affects him. My impression of Tam Lin is that, whether he’s a fairy or not, he’s definitely operating on their same sense of ethics?

He tells her to be there at Miles Cross, and Janet asks how she will recognize him. He says that two companies will pass by, and he will be in the third one; and that she is to let the black horse and the brown horse pass by, and he will be on the milk-white steed. Because he is a christened knight, they will give him the honor of riding on the side nearest to town, which…Does this make sense in context of the time period, or…

Anyway, he tells her that she has to pull him down from the horse and warns her that the fairies will change him into various different dangerous animals and objects, but that she has to hold onto him if she wants to save him.

The scene shifts again, to Miles Cross. It is a gloomy and eerie night, basically a Gothic romance’s paradise. Janet is there, late at night, and she hears the horses’ bridles ringing. She waits until she sees Tam Lin, and she pulls him off his horse. He turns into a snake, a lump of red-hot coal (OW), and an eel, until finally he turns back into a man, and the fairies’ power over him is broken. The fairy queen threatens him, telling him that she would have turned his eyes into wood and his heart into stone if she’d known what he’d do. There is also a version where the fairy queen tells Janet, ‘ O wae worth ye ill woman & an ill dead may ye die, For ye had plenty of lovers at hame & I had nane but he.’ Interesting.

I am sorry the lighting on this photo is kind of bad. I swear some pictures are just cursed where you cannot take good photos of them. But I love the antlered fairy queen, though, so I couldn’t not post this.

And that’s the end of the poem, and presumably they both got married and lived happily ever after. I think their life after the story would be kind of interesting to explore. Does Janet regret jumping into a relationship that quickly? Is Tam Lin happy in the human world, or can he not get used to the change? As a side note, I would love that plot line for a retelling in general, where the changeling is ‘rescued’ and they want nothing more than to go back to Fairyland. Fairyland is often portrayed in YA as being a horrible, dark place, but HELLO HAVE YOU SEEN THE HUMAN WORLD LATELY. In folktales, I’ve never interpreted Fairyland as being inherently awful, just different. Probably inherently an unfriendly place for humans to live in, yes, but see my above point about the human world. And frankly, Fairyland sounds kind of fun? Just my opinion?

I love Janet. She’s an active heroine who stands up for herself and saves her own boyfriend. A lot of times people think fairy tale heroines are all weak, and I’m just…Well, we clearly haven’t been reading the same fairy tales. Janet is amazing. Tam Lin is…Well, Tam Lin is a little strange, but I can see how he could be written so I like him.

This is such a bizarre story. I love it.

Do you love Scottish Ballads as much as I do? Does Tam Lin strike you as weird or do you like him? Is Janet the most amazing heroine of ever? (hint: the answer is yes.)

Thomas the Rhymer

Thomas the Rhymer is one of my favorite Scottish ballads. It has a lot of things going for it: Thomas is a fairly nice man who is not squatting on other people’s property; no one has sacrificed seven princesses; and there are no crows who discuss pecking out a dead person’s eyes. (I fully admit I love those ballads. But sometimes it’s nice for a break?) Instead, we have an excellent fairy queen and a fully consensual relationship. And do you know how rare it is in a fairy tale for a relationship between a fey and a human to work out? It’s kind of rare.

Anyway, the story opens with Thomas the Rhymer lounging on ‘Huntlie bank’, wherever that is, presumably enjoying his day and not expecting to get accosted by random fairy queens. Of course he does, because this is a ballad. The fairy queen comes riding up to him on a white horse, with fifty-nine silver bells hanging from each lock of its mane. That is a blinged-out horse.

Thomas mistakes her for the Virgin Mary, because he knows she’s at least not earthly, and greets her as such. She explains that she is the queen of the fairies, not the Virgin Mary, and that she has come to visit him. Thomas is remarkably chill about this.

She asks him to kiss her, and I love this part of the poem so much I’m quoting it:

‘Harp and carp, Thomas,’ she said, ‘Harp and carp along wi me, And if ye dare to kiss my lips, Sure of your bodie I will be.’

Thomas, who at this point I’m pretty sure is crushing hard, does so, and she tells him that he must go with her to fairyland for seven years. Um…maybe going from ‘we just met’ to ‘let’s elope together’ is moving kind of fast? But it’s a fairy tale, what do I expect. She pulls him up onto her horse and gallops off with him, until they come to a desert. She stops there to rest and gets down from her horse, and points out three roads to Thomas. One of these roads is narrow and thorny, and is the path of righteousness, though not many choose it; one of the roads is broad and is the path of wickedness, though some call it the road to heaven; and one of them is a bonny road that winds across a woody hillside, and that is the road to fairyland, where they are going.

After she explains this to him, she tells him that he must not speak a word while in fairyland, or else he’ll never be able to get back to his own country. So, it’s like reverse-gender Ariel, except without the chronic pain! (And yes, Ariel had chronic pain after she was turned into a human, in the Hans Christian Anderson story. I’m a little annoyed at Disney for not including that.) Also, I don’t remember seeing this rule about not speaking in any other fairy tale? As far as I remember, it’s an anomaly to this one. But I could be wrong, of course.

And then they ride on, riding through blood-filled rivers, and no that is not a typo. And I’m quoting this, too:

“O they rade on, and farther on,

And they waded thro rivers aboon the knee,

And they saw neither sun nor moon,

But they heard the roaring of the sea.

It was mirk mirk night, and there was nae stern light,

And they waded thro red blude to the knee;

For a’ the blude that’s shed on earth

Rins thro the springs o that countrie.”

And finally they come to a garden, where an apple tree grows. She picks an apple and gives it to Thomas, explaining that it will give him a tongue that cannot lie, which sounds like a curse as well as a gift, honestly. Interestingly, in other versions she explicitly tells him not to pick the apple, because apparently the tree is the tree of knowledge? I have no idea which version is older. Anyway, Thomas demurs for a little bit, I think because it’s too great of a gift, but I’m not sure because Scottish English is hard. But she insists, and of course she has her way. And the poem ends with,

“He has gotten a coat of the even cloth, And a pair of shoes of velvet green, And till seven years were gane and past True Thomas on earth was never seen.“

Green is a color traditionally associated with fairies, and the ‘being kidnapped for seven years’ thing is also fairly common in these folktales, according to Lady Wilde. (I love Lady Wilde’s book. It’s a great resource on Irish folklore. Seriously, go check it out if you haven’t already.) According to Wikipedia, there is also a version where the fairy queen tells Thomas that she can’t keep him for longer than seven years or else she’ll be forced to sacrifice him in the teind to hell, but I can’t find that one. I feel kind of cheated.

Interestingly enough, Thomas was based on a real person, named Sir Thomas de Ercildoun (no telling if he ever eloped with the fairy queen, though). He was a Scottish laird and prophet from Earlston, living in the thirteenth century. There was a romance written about him in the fourteenth or fifteenth century, which this ballad comes from. There isn’t really any telling as to how old this poem is, as the earliest one they’ve found has been from the eighteenth century, but ballads and folktales are often much older than when they were first written down, and it wouldn’t surprise me if it dated back at least to the renaissance.

There are plenty of folktales about kidnapped brides, but it’s far rarer to find a folktale about a kidnapped bridegroom (the only one I can think of right off the bat is Tam Lin), and rarer still where it is actually totally consensual? I am loving this. I mean, I don’t mind Beauty and the Beast type stories, or stories where the fairy king decides to kidnap yet another pretty human girl and is certain that this time nothing will go wrong (spoiler: something always goes wrong). But an actually healthy relationship between a fairy and a human that is 100% consensual and doesn’t end tragically? Sign me up.

Sources: http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch037.htm (This has four different versions of the poem, and my favorite is the last one)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_the_Rhymer

https://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/ali/index.htm

Did you like this story? What’s your favorite folktale involving a romance (one-sided or no) between a fairy and a human? Heck, what’s your favorite folktale involving fairies?