Round the Herne

 My reading of the twelfth and final chapter of John Masefield's (1935) children's fantasy story "The Box of Delights". There are. of course, twelve chapters for the twelve days of Christmas. Here the story is tied up as Kay does his best to save the abducted cathedral staff in time for celebrating the thousandth Christmas to be held in that place. I rather like the fusing of Pagan and Christian imagery in this concluding chapter - very appropriate to the Christmas season

  My reading of the eleventh and penultimate chapter of John Masefield's (1935) children's adventure fantasy "The Box of Delights". The mad scheming of the oily Abner approach fruition and the extent of his magical powers is revealed (I could spoil a harmless children's saga by pontificating about the way in which magical and spiritual paths so often get turned to little more than money grubbing and material indulgence, but I won't do so).

  My reading of the tenth chapter of John Masefield's (1935) children's fantasy adventure "The Box of Delights". Kay finally meets the mysterious philosopher-magician Arnold of Todi and discovers more about the origins of the box.

  My Christmas Eve reading of the ninth chapter of John Masefield's (1935) children's fantasy adventure "The Box of Delights". The strange happenings continue apace with more magic from the mysterious box and revelations of who people actually are. And yes, I've had the beard trimmed by my never-less-than-entertaining barber, Charlie (who seems to be a younger incarnation of one of my oldest friends).

  My reading of the eighth chapter of John Masefield's children's fantasy "The Box of Delights" (1935). This time more mysterious shenanigans occur at the cathedral - will there be anyone left to conduct the Midnight Mass?

  My reading of the seventh chapter of John Masefield's (1935) children's fantasy adventure "The Box of Delights". Another short chapter in which the children journey inside a tree and we finally find out what happened to the thuggish Maria.

  My reading of the sixth part of John Masefield's (1935) children's fantasy adventure "The Box of Delights". A more sedate chapter this time in which the Bishop's party is spoiled by nefarious goings on at the end (and the range of children's toys was mercifully less taxing to the brain than the current nightmarish complexity).

  My reading of the fifth chapter of John Masefield's children's fantasy "The Box of Delights" (1935). The voice is still a bit rough, though better than it was. In this chapter the other powers of the box are explored to delve down into the world of the rodents. The villains continue to scheme and machinate.

  My reading of the fourth chapter of John Masefield's children's fantasy story "The Box of Delights" (1935). In this chapter our hero gets drawn into a magical woodland and experiences the power of shapeshifting - his own and other's. I shall probably re-record this on a future occasion, when my throat is less sandpapered, but wanted to crack on before the month runs out.

  My reading of the third chapter of John Masefield's (1935) children's fantasy "The Box of Delights". A new villain enters the picture and Kay has strange experiences at King Arthur's Camp - is it a dream or time travel or a vision? Only further chapters will tell. The wolves are now definitely running.

  My reading of the second chapter of John Masefield's children's fantasy story "The Box of Delights" (1935). More revelations develop about the strange old Punch & Judy man as well as some rather peculiar clergymen.

  My reading of John Masefield's first chapter of his children's book "The Box of Delights" (1935), ready for Yule 2022 - I hope to finish all the chapters before the solstice, life and technology permitting. It is a charming and festive tale, dressed about with hints of paga magic alongside Christian theology that I first encountered via the TV series some decades ago. The nook cover also features a still from the TV series featuring Patrick Trought as the old wizard Hawlings.

  My Halloween reading of R Chetwynd-Hayes' 1975 short story "The Humgoo" (featured in his anthology "The Monster Club"). The book, including this segment, was made into a low budget but enjoyable film starring the wonderful Vincent Price as a vampire who narrated the short stories for a character played by John Carradine. The Humgoo segment was the most effective part of the movie. There are some villages in Suffolk that could as easily be renamed Loughville......

  The Australian political theorist Kenneth Minogue coined the term St George in Retirement Syndrome (a more  pagan equivalent might be Beowulf in Retirement Syndrome!)  to describe the plight of old campaigners who, having gained prominence in their younger days by fighting against some draconian enemy find themselves yearning for the sense of purpose it once gave them. The Canadian psychiatrist Eric Berne spoke about difficult life scripts that people get stuck acting out, becoming ever more unhappy as they do so. One of the negative scripts he links to the Greek myth of Baucis and Philemon, a sweet old couple who are transformed into interlinked trees as a reward for their hospitality. Whilst such a fate might sound lovely, retiring too early to a peaceful, placid existence can become utterly tedious for many and they yearn for challenge and difficulty. Retirement can leave a lot of people wondering what on earth to do with themselves. Hankering for the “good old days”...

 Thought I would record at least one spooky story for Halloween. If I can think of an original idea, I will add that later. For now, here is my reading of R B Russell's short story "Loup-garou" about a strange French horror film. Unlike most of the things I record, this is quite subtle and it is not wholly obvious what is happening. In some respects this reflects the philosophical ideas of Jean Baudrillard around hyper-reality, where fiction and fact bleed into one another and become increasingly hard to distinguish. Many, he argued, come to prefer the cinematic fantasy to the mundane reality - which has a raft of dystopian horrors all of its own.

  My reading of several poems inspired by Paganism that were (mostly - some were kept as additional ones in case the turn out had been low and time needed to be filled) read out at an Interfaith event yesterday. Poems are by Hilary Llewellyn-Williams, Oscar Wilde, Percy Shelley, Tom Hirons, and myself. Not only was there sharing of poetry and song between the people present, but much discussion about ideas revealed in those poems - it was a nice afternoon and a good way to inspire some creative discussions and build bridges.

 Rathe a belated contribution to World Poetry Day 2022, the choice is partly inspired by a conversation with my adoptive nephew Tom who has acquired a copy of Sir John Betjeman's collected works. So here are four poems by Betjeman and a little waffle to accompany each: The Arrest of Oscar Wilde at the Cadogan Hotel Felixstowe, or the Last of Her Order Monody on the Death of a Platonist Bank Clerk Death in Leamington

 My spin on a popular notion found in Slavic folklore about the wolf-herder (identified in Christianity with various saints, including Andrew and Nicholas - Romanian lore favours the former). In pagan tradition, the figure is often thought of as the god Dabog. The holy night of the saint is when the herder predicts what each wolf will eat in the coming year. The relevance of the pretzels is a mystery to me, but might make more sense to someone far more familiar with ancient Slavic religion than I am. The image of the herder of wolves is a very evocative one and is examined in a chapter in my forthcoming book "The Magic of Wolves" (which can be pre-ordered via Moon Books!). 

 This is my reading of W B Yeats' epic poem "The Wanderings of Oisin". I uploaded a prose storytelling version of this myth a while back. Yeats' poem is a dialogue between Patrick (not yet a saint) and the ancient Irish hero Oisin who has returned from centuries spent in Tir na nOg, an Otherworldly realm, with his beloved fairy-wife Niamh. The myth ends with the old man dying, bewildered by the changes in life and religion that he has seen in Ireland. I would have posted this yesterday, but minutes after I finished recording it, I heard the news about the death of the Queen - and it seemed a little inappropriate to put up a poem about a dying man and a lost era on the same day as the second Elizabethan Age came to an end.

 This was meant to be uploaded for National Dog Day two days earlier, but life got in the way with other stuff. A shisa is an ornamental dog found in Japan and China that acts as a guardian - they stand either side of a door or gateway, one with its mouth open and the other closed. There is some variation as to what the mouth means, but one chases off malevolent forces whilst the other keeps the good forces within the home. The shisa does not seem to be associated with a specific breed of canine, and (as per the one in this story) is more magical than zoological. Given that the power of the bark is often in inverse proportion to the size of the dog, it would not surprise me if the shisa is some kind of terrier. I could not identify which Japanese emperor this story is supposed to happen to, but it may be more apocryphal than historical anyway. Looking at photos of Gana-mui Woods, I think I may have somewhat exaggerate the size of the boulder. Though i anyone asks, I shall simply sa...

  Finally got round to recording the next part of my reading of the second part of the first tale (The Minotaur) in Nathaniel Hawthorne's "Tanglewood Tales" (1853). This completes the story of Theseus and the Minotaur. I made a mistake at the end when showing the illustration from the book - the women in the image is Ariadne and not Aethra.

 This is my reading of the first part of the first story (The Minotaur) in Nathaniel Hawthorne's collection of Greek myths, 'Tanglewood Tales'. This part deals with the childhood and coming of age of the hero Theseus. The rest of Theseus' story will follow in due course. I am not sure why he called it Tanglewood, which has nothing particular to do with Greek mythology. It does sound like a great name for a rambling country mansion - apparently there are a number of pace in America names after this book but I could find no suggestion of where Hawthorne himself took his inspiration for the title. The original of the book was published in 1853, the version of it I have (which contains only the three of the myths - there being six in the full version) dates from 1910 and was picked up or a few pence in a charity shop. It has a dedication on the fly-leaf reading " From Joan to Mollie, Xmas 1923 ", I guess they might have been sisters, cousins, or possibly school fr...

 A few months back I gave a talk at the local pagan moot on some ideas found in Greek philosophy and how they were expressed through mythology. The two videos linked to here cover most of the ideas talked about at the moot. It would be interesting to hear of listeners views, if they have a different take on these concepts - or if there are additional ideas that people would like to hear about. The first video deals with mythos, arete, eudaimonia, and hubris. The second video goes over miasma, katharmos, eusebia, and xenia.

 My reading of the last installment of Roald Dahl's 1961 children's book "James and the Giant Peach", in which the band of friends encounter strange beings in the sky and eventually make it across to America for a new land of adventures.

 This is my reading (with accents still all over the place) of the second part of Roald Dahl's 1961 children's adventure story, "James and the Giant Peach". This time the vast fruit starts rolling downhill and the new friends must try to band together to find a solution to their problems.

 This is my reading (with some very erratic accents - at some point I will re-record this with more consistent - if not more convincing - ones) of Roald Dahl's 1961 children's adventure story 'James and the Giant Peach'. This first part goes up to the discovery of the peach's inhabitants.  For those listeners with children, please give careful thought to who would look after your children in the event that you get eaten by a rhinoceros. I believe these sorts of incidents are on the increase. Clearly lack of planning in this department of life can lead to years of unexpected misery.

 To mark the summer solstice I've finally recorded (thanks to some advice from Gill on how to clean up the cluttered memory on this machine) a Norse story - my version of it, anyway - about the death and funeral of Baldr.

 This is (very loosely) a tale for the Jubilee, in as much as the main character ends up as royalty. Myrsina's history comes to us through Greek folklore. Amongst other things, there is a salutary lesson on not pampering your children to the point of their becoming useless.

 As previously mentioned, I gave the Annual Faith Lecture at the university campus in Ipswich, talking about animism and paganism and their involvement with environmentalism. The talk lasted an hour and the questions after were about half as much again. I made a recording of the talk, as near as I could remember it. Hopefully it might prove of interest to at least some subscribers to this blog.

  Lecture - Tuesday 17th May, 6pm in Lecture Theatre #1 at the Waterfront Building, Ipswich Modern forms of Paganism have undergone a revival in the last century, drawing on the polytheist and animist religions of the ancient world for their inspiration and world view (though often blended with ideas from a variety of other sources). Many, perhaps the majority, of modern pagans feel a reverence for the natural world and a wish to restore the damage done by increasing industrialisation and population growth. This talk examines some of the major influences on the development of Paganism, the relationship with the environmental movements, and how an animist worldview shapes an understanding of the Land, the living beings we share it with, the realm of spirits, and our respective duties towards them. Biography Robin Herne is the Route Leader for Sociology and Criminology at West Suffolk College, having previously been the Lead for Religious Studies and Ethics there. He regularly contri...

 This was recorded back in February as a practice for a group storytelling at the Leaping Hare convention in late March. Meant to upload it weeks ago, but forgot. It is based on the tale of how Fionn's son, Oisin, is drawn to Tir na nOg, Land of the Ever Young, for love of  a mysterious woman and how he finds the world much changed upon his return. The encounter with Bishop Patrick is much as it is in the original version, though told with a definite sympathy to the pagan viewpoint. 

 My spin on a Hindu myth (really more of a fusion of several different versions) about the deity Khandoba who rides out with his two wives Mhalsa, lined to the merchant caste, and Banai, linked to the ancient shepherding caste, to battle two demonic brothers intent on carnage. The version I have opted for here shares much with one of the stories told of Kali. The devourer of demons, in this particular story, is Khandoba's dog. Unfortunately I have not yet been able to track down a name for this magnificent beastie, but if any Hindu readers are aware of it, please let me know. Today a new dog has become part of my life, renamed Bronntanas (Irish for "gift", and he is assuredly a gift from my old boy Gwynn). Bronn is a big old Malamute with the most beautiful eyes and I am sure he could flatten a few demons if the mood took him - so this story is to welcome him in to my life and into my circle. I was going to try and get him to appear in the video, but he is a bit camera sh...

 It being April 23rd, my mind turns to dragons and the numerous folktales about them. This story from Albania features a singularly charmless family as its central characters and a reminder about why we should be careful who we let have influence over our children's minds (cranky, manipulative teachers included).  There are forty dragons featured in this tale, though it has to be said that they really don't do anything very draconian and, as is so often the case with a lot of folktales, there are many loose ends left untied - like what happens to the governess, why are forty dragons squeezed into a castle, and ought the romantic "hero" be on a police watch list? Possibly when this story was first doing the rounds, audiences would have been familiar with other stories that would have put the dragons, the governess etc. into context. I did consider doing a story about the bolla, a type of dragon that only opens its eyes on April 23rd, but aside from a few scraps of myth...

 My reading of the last three chapters of P G Wodehouse's comic novel "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954) in which Jeeves, that machina ex deus, resolves all the problems that beset the household. You will have noticed from the constant references to Agatha Christie across the book that the two authors admired each other's work. Whilst Christie had rather Wodehouse-like characters in some of her books (especially the Tommy & Tuppence ones), she sadly never had a Jeeves-style character solve a murder and exonerate his employer from suspicion.

  My reading of the eighteenth and nineteenth chapters of P G Wodehouse's "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954).The purloining of pearls gets ever more confused as Wooster contemplates a life behind bars and Mrs Trotter throws her hat into the ring.

  My reading of chapters sixteen and seventeen of P G Wodehouse's "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954). Grievous bodily harm is attempted, Cupid steps in, and aunts become pottier by the minute.

  My reading of the fifteenth chapter of P G Wodehouse's "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954). Wooster contemplates his grim marital fate with sangfroid then looses it all as a far worse fate looms into view.

  My reading of the fourteenth chapter of P G Wodehouse's "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954). In this installment, Wooster manages to untangle himself from a near-death experience but faces the far worse prospect of getting hitched to the pushy Florence Craye.

 My reading of the thirteenth chapter of P G Wodehouse's "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit". Wooster finds himself making a grievous mistake as to whose bedroom window he is climbing through whilst attempting to protect his mad aunt's reputation.

  My reading of the twelfth chapter of Wodehouse's "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954). Wooster, against his better judgement, gets roped in to yet another scam to redeem his aunt's reputation. Needless to say nothing goes according to plan.

 My reading of chapter eleven of "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" by P G Wodehouse (1954). In this chapter Wooster's plan for a relaxing weekend with his aunt and uncle are scuppered by the arrival of the knuckle-dragging Cheesewright, intent on mayhem.

 My reading of "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954) by P G Wodehouse. In chapters nine and ten Wooster finds out what is happening at his aunt's house with both her business shenanigans and the romance between the thuggish Cheesewright and the intellectual Florence takes yet another turn.

 My reading of the eighth chapter of "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954) by P G Wodehouse. In this chapter the plot thickens as Bertie gets lured down to his aunt's country mansion to assist with her business dealings and intransigent house guests.

 My reading of chapters six and seven of P G Wodehouse's "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954) in which Bertie finds himself up before the magistrate after shenanigans in a nightclub, and then having to beard the wrath of the thuggish Cheesewright.

  My reading of Chapter 5 of P G Wodehouse's "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954). This time the relentlessly pushy Florence Craye obliges Wooster to take her to a dubious nightclub - what could possibly go wrong?

  My reading of chapter four of Wodehouse's "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954). In this installment the thuggish Cheesewright gets even nastier and Florence ropes Wooster into yet another ill-advised scheme (what could go wrong?).

 This is my reading of the third chapter of Wodehouse's "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" in which the brutish Cheesewright, beefy ex-Oxford and Eton rower, gets even nastier than usual .

 A couple of people who had missed the start of the Leaping Hare convention last Saturday asked if I would record a version of my talk on the Royal Myth of Egypt. I've tried to keep to the same length as at the convention and as close to identical topics. This is a reflection on the myth of the feuding brothers and the trials and tribulations faced by their sister in restoring her beloved. If these topics are of any interest to readers (both of you), let me know and I will explore further in future. Tomorrow, Sunday 3rd, I will be giving a talk on the Egyptian concepts of Ma'at and Isfet at an MBS fair being held at Kegrave Community Centre - I shall be talking at 1pm, if anyone fancies coming along to listen.

  As an admirer of Wodehouse's stories, I thought I would start a new series of readings. So this is m y reading of Chapters One and Two of "Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit" (1954) by P G Wodehouse, the rest to follow in due course. I can entirely understand why Stephen Fry finds them so relaxing, as they are set in an entirely silly world of upper-class twittery with memorable characters and frivolous plots that make such an antidote to endless tide of misery and madness that fills newspapers and TV broadcasts. In this tale Jeeves returns from holiday to find Bertie about to be roped into one of his mad aunt's schemes - but Bertie has to contend with the murderous attentions of a jealous rival as well.

 According to Greek tradition, the very first truly theatrical performance was that of the poet Thespis at the first Dionysia to be held in Athens. Part of the celebration in honour of the god Dionysus, spread over several days, was a set of performances with a prize going to the best (yes, actors were hungry for Award Ceremonies from the get-go). Thespis stood up as the first act at the first such festival and recited a dithyrambic poem of his own composition. This style of poem recounted a myth, though it is unknown to all except a certain time travelling Doctor which sacred drama Thespis based his work on (though I have suggested a likely possibility in the story recorded below). There was nothing unusual in reciting poetry, but the innovation that Thespis brought was to have sections of his opus magnum written in the voices of the various figures in the myth and then don suitable masks and costumes to act out the parts. Thespis speaks to the power of masks - as Jung said, give ...

 As some readers will already know my dear old dog Cafall passed away Tuesday earlier this week after a godawful visit to the vet. He was very old and doddery, but has left a huge gap. Considering how much of the last couple of years he spent asleep, the silence is pronounced and difficult to live with. He was named after King Arthur's dog from Welsh legend. So as a memorial to him, I have recorded a shortened version of the account of how seven monstrous wild boars laid waste first to Ireland and then to Wales, causing a variety of significant landscape features, before being dispatched by the warriors and war dogs of Arthur. Some authorities regard this as a metaphor for a brutal warband that came over from Ireland and caused mayhem, whilst others think this is a more mystical tale reflecting an ancient tradition about the hunting of a sacred boar. The paw print stone was observable in the Victorian era when Lady Guest sketched it - though I am not sure if it is still around toda...

 This is my reading of E F Benson's amusing short story "The Psychical Mallards" (1921) which in some regards foreshadows the childhood of Harry Potter and his life with the Dursleys. I wonder if J K Rowlings had read this story at some point in the past and it sowed a seed? The fatherly conversation about queerness raises a bit of a school boy snigger. It can be read entirely innocently (and was most likely meant in that way by the author), though the word queer had started to be associated with homosexuality by the late 1800s and as Benson was himself a lover of men he might well have been familiar with its dual implications and its relevance to boarding school life. Anthropologists have noted that some cultures associate magical talents, such as possessed by Tim, with sexual ambiguity - but I think that may well be reading rather too much into a simple tale of wizardly nonsense (plus he does get married, eventually)  Incidentally, if some listeners think I have lost th...

 This is my reading of Saki's short story, 'The Disappearance of Crispina Umberleigh' (1919). Aside from being an amusing diversion it is a reminder that some people bring great joy by their arrival in our lives whilst others bring great joy only when they depart our lives. It is never a great idea to be one of the latter. Apologies for the rubbish accents, I really must try and acquire some better silly voices.

 Finding the time to record or write anything of late has proven a challenge. I cannot remember the last time I wrote a poem, so I thought it might help to get in the literary "zone" if I recorded a few poems by other people. The selection here is random with no particular link between the works beyond the fact that I like them. The first offering is "The Only Son" by Rudyard Kipling, a lupine tale (appropriate for my next book) which shows that we often do not know our own relatives very well and that parentage can come in varied forms. This is followed by Stevie Smith's "Mrs Simpkins" which is also about family and reminds us that one person's vision of heaven may be another's vision of hell. Then we have the inimitable Oscar Wilde with "Athanasia", with echoes of Egypt (putting me in mind of my last book) and demonstrating again his passion for the natural world. Finally there is Hilary Llewellyn-Williams' poem "Ursa"...