Round the Herne

 What started off as some research for a lecture (around male friendship) took me off down various mythological tangents, including into the daimona/goddess/spirit Philotes from Ancient Greece who formed and sustained friendships between people (and sometimes also sexual relationships, but that is a side issue). The work-related research has been looking at the connection between social isolation and what are euphemistically called negative life outcomes - ill health, mental problems, increased chances of suicide etc.). While friendship may not get anywhere near the modern cultural coverage of romance (thinking about all those soppy songs, films, Mills & Boon novels etc.), in ancient times there were plenty of tales about friends going off on adventures together.

  My reading of the final chapter of Gore Vidal's "Julian" (1962) and a reflection on some of the themes in the novel and what it has to say about society both then and now. It's an excellent book, highly recommended and, like all great works, stimulates more questions than it answers. Without spoiling anything, this final chapter is a reflection by one of the key figures in the book on life after the Emperor Julian has died and Christianity reasserted itself. Even though it was penned in 1962, this book raises issues that are still relevant in 2024.

 A meander through the topic of history, story, and pseudohistory - partly inspired by reading Gore Vidal's book "Julian" about the life of the Emperor Julian. I highly recommend the book and really liked the epistolary style, with the alternation between the Emperor's own autobiography and two querulous old philosophers who knew Julian and spend the book bickering with each other about how accurate the autobiography actually is. I did think about making an audio recording of Vidal's book, but at 479 pages I doubt anyone would want to listen to something that went on that long.

 Wanted to do this for St George's Day but work got in the way (and I must admit to feeling  reservations - not being a Christian, it seems rude to presume to chip in). However, as the national day for all things English, I thought it would be nice to share some poetry from a man who, though Indian-born, was once thought of as the poetic soul of the nation - Rudyard Kipling (I could do with a Rudyard Kipling right now).  Whilst he has other poems that are more explicitly based around patriotism, I like these ones because they centre on history and folklore. The three poems are - Puck's Song, The Land, and The English Way.  Make sure to drink tea whilst nibbling a scone as you listen.

 I have been mulling over the issue of religious writings within ancient paganism for a while now, and finally have the time to get some thoughts down in the hope of starting a conversation that others will chip in on. Whilst it was going on in Judaism well before, Christianity has become prominently associated with the practice of hermeneutics - the study of sacred scripture. Originally it was essentially the same thing as exegesis, but since the concept has secularised hermeneutics includes communications outside of the written text (spoken conversations, political speeches etc.) whilst the term exegesis is retained in the Church for the study of the written word. I want to keep the focus here on the books, poems, and other writings of significance to ancient polytheist cultures more so than modern writings or non-textual sources. That said, there are some works (such as the Havamal) which I strongly believe are best thought of as lyrics or scripts - that is to say, they were per...

  My reading of the final, tenth, chapter of "Puck of Pook's Hill" by Rudyard Kipling (1906). This time the children meet the shade of a Jewish doctor and accountant. Not the most politically correct delineation of a Jewish character ever written, but the character plays a subtly heroic role in this final tale-within-the-tale. Worth bearing in mind that "The Song of the Fifth River" was published in 1906 (presumably written a little earlier than that) and that Israel was not proclaimed as a nation state until Ben-Gurion did so in 1948 - so when Kipling composed it no Jewish person was metaphorical king of their own nation. I cannot find a musical version of that poem. There is a musical version of "The Children's Song" by an amateur composer, but I'm not including it here because the tune was just painful to listen to.

  My reading of the eighth chapter of "Puck of Pook's Hill" by Rudyard Kipling (1906). This time the children meet with an architect and hear tales of pirates (and yes, I did accidentally say Suffolk instead of Sussex at one point, but could not be bothered to record the whole thing all over again.) There does not appear to be a musical version of "Hal o' the Draft" as heard at the beginning of the chapter, but there is a musical rendition of " A Smuggler's Song " which appears at the end. This is by Robin Jeffrey and Tim Laycock.

  My reading of the seventh chapter of "Puck of Pook's Hill" by Rudyard Kipling (1906). The centurion continues his tale of life up on Hadrian's Wall. There is a musical version of " A Pict Song ", which ends this chapter, by Emerald Rose. Their lyrics are slightly different from Kipling's original verses.

  My reading of the sixth chapter of "Puck of Pook's Hill" by Rudyard Kipling (1906). In this instalment, the children are further regaled by the adventures of the Roman centurion - this time with a sage of life on Hadrian's Wall. There is a musical version of " A Song to Mithras " which appears at the end of this chapter. This is produced by Griffin Distribution. The same company also do a musical version of the song at the start, untitled in the book but called " Rimini " by the singer. The site does not give the names of the specific singers or instrumentalists.

 My reading of the fifth chapter of "Puck of Pook's Hill" by Rudyard Kipling (1906). The children encounter the shade of a Roman centurion who tells them about life in his era and how he came to join the army. No attempt at song this time but, if you would like to hear a musical version of the poem " Cities and Thrones and Powers " at the beginning of the chapter, then Peter Bellamy created one. I cannot find a musical rendition for "A British-Roman Song" that ends the chapter.

 This is my reading of the second chapter of Rudyard Kipling's "Puck of Pook's Hill" in which the children are introduced to the shade of a Norman knight from the 11th century. Having made ears bleed with my attempts at singing in the first chapter, I've avoided the temptation here.  There is a musical version of Sir Richard's Song which I found that people might prefer to listen to (I didn't attempt to recreate the tune in my reading here), with Michael Kelly singing .

An odd ramble around ideas from the English philosopher Thomas Hobbes on social contracts and how this could relate to animist or polytheist ideas. Would a greater focus on mutuality provide a strong ethical basis within the smaller scale western polytheist traditions? Jane Jacobs economic models explored the idea of reciprocity (she uses the term trader) as a basis for a healthier way of interacting than the more Nietzschean approaches that have been in vogue for at least a few centuries now. I wonder to what extent this approach can be extended into spiritual and social/moral realms. This can also link in to ideas on agency within animism, but I'll leave that to some future occasion to explore.  The short version of all this waffle is for us to think of each of the living beings (human or otherwise) that we benefit from in some way, and then deciding on how to reciprocate so that we give benefit back to them in some manner. 

Early August is, for many pagans, the time when they celebrate what the Anglo-Saxons referred to as Lammas and the Irish called Lughnasadh (which is not to say these festivals are identical). The Irish term takes its name from the deity Lugh, this name tracking back to the early Celtic Lugus - altars to whom are found in many places. Myth has it that Lugh was born what might be termed mixed-race in that his father was of the Tuatha de Danann, the tribe of the goddess Danu, whist his mother was of their mortal enemies the Tuatha de Domnu - she being the goddess of the abyss in the deep sea. Descriptions of her offspring rather make them sound like something dreamed up by Lovecraft. Not all of them are horrific though, and Lugh's mother Ethniu is one of these.  The tribe of Danu arrive in great, impenetrable clouds that descend upon the Iron Mountain in what is now County Leitrim and discover that Ireland is already inhabited by the Fir Bolg. The people of the sky meet the people of ...

A shortish waffle about the way some modern pagans tend to view a romanticised past and our relationship with history. The past may be another country, but it can also be a blueprint for the future we are trying to create.

There was a bit of positive feedback from the first introductory spiel about paganism, so here is a follow up. When I've found the missing kitchen utensil, I may do a third part!

Two days ago the sad news was announced that British character actor Geoffrey Bayldon had died at the grand age of 93. Younger readers may not recognise the name, he having been retired for a while, but those old enough to remember Worzel Gummidge and Catweazle certainly will know him as the both the Crowman whose magic brought scarecrows to life, as well as the ancient time travelling wizard who landed in 1970s Britain to discover the perverse magic of electrickery and telling bones. He also appeared in a long old list of TV shows and films. His magical characters inspired me with the visual image of Doctor Winter, a real life Cunning Man who lived in the 1700s and early 1800s in Ipswich. When writing fiction I find it helps if I can put a face to my characters, so often draw on both celebrities, people I know, and random strangers I see whose faces interest me. I wanted to restore Winter to life as the sleuth in a short story called 'A Doctor Calls' (part of the crime anth...

Whilst exploring Sicily we went to the cemetery at Pozzallo to lay flowers for relatives. I had just assumed it would look rather like a British cemetery, and was intrigued to find out that it was much more akin to an ancient Roman burial ground. There wasn't a patch of grass to be seen, but (in the richer areas) a whole series of mausoleums with varying degrees of elaborate detail some of which had to be seen to be believed. I'm told that some families spend more on their tombs than on their houses. These works of art are laid out in Roman grid-style, roads lined with houses for the dead, at once beautiful and boastful - declarations of the status and grandeur of both the ancestors and their survivors. Many are heavily influenced in their design by classical architecture, and given that each contain altars (with statues of the Virgin, various saints etc.) along with the names and icons of the lost generations, and receptacles for the offerings of flowers, these are each fun...

There's a chap who lives a few streets away from me and whom I sometimes bump into whilst walking the hounds. He is always very pleasant and seems well informed on many issues. He's also a devout Christian (not sure which denomination), and often talks about religious matters. Recently he spoke to me about the destruction of antiquities by Daesh in what is now Islamic State territory. He sympathised about how horrified I must be by their historical loss, but then suddenly said that - as some of the temples were associated with "Baal worship" - maybe their loss was a good thing as it would save people from being tempted into devoting themselves to Baal. It was an awkward moment where I wondered whether to laugh, cry, or rage. By the time I'd made up my mind, he'd already gone on his way. I don't even know where to really begin with this sentiment - it is horrifying when members of one religion crow about the destruction of the sites sacred to another, ...

I wanted to write a glowing review of a book on Goodreads, but it's not even on their system, and Amazon won't let me write a review until I have purchased a book via them (which I do not wish to do). So I have decided to post it here instead, and hope that it circulates to a decent-sized audience who will rush forth to buy the book and keep the author's in the public consciousness! 'The Ipswich Witch' by David Jones (someone I also happen to know via his involvement with the interfaith movement) is a fascinating and smoothly written account not only of the trial of Mother Lackland, but of witchcraft trials in general within Suffolk in the 16th and 17th centuries. The historical research is excellent and goes into far greater depth than any other book I have looked at on the subject. The author draws reasoned conclusions based on the evidence, and challenges some of the conventional thoughts surrounding both Lackland herself and also Matthew Hopkins, the infamous...