Muse-ic to live by...

I was never one for fairy tales - I preferred the myths and legends of the British Isles, Greek and Norse myths, but few fairy tales captured my interest. I did enjoy Goldilocks and the Three Bears, although my sympathy lay with the bears - I'd be pretty annoyed if a spoilt brat broke into my home, wrecked the furniture and gobbled the porridge.

No, what I grew up with was music - the voices of my father and uncles singing Irish airs, the folk music of England, Wales and Scotland, stories in song that stirred my soul and gave me muse-ical myths to live by.

One that became kind of banner to me was the Scottish myth of Tam Lin. Both song and tale, it was a myth I could live by. While walking in the wood, a young girl called Janet meets a strange young man called Tam Lin. She falls in love with him, but finds he is in the thrall of the Elven Queen. He tells her the only way to save him is to drag him from his horse and hold on to him tight, no matter what happens, next time the Elven Court rides through the forest.

This she does, and as she clings to her love, the Elven Queen turns him into different things - a column of fire, a pillar of ice, a slippery eel, a giant spider - but in spite of her fear and horror, she does not let go and finally he turns into Tam Lin, naked but free of the Elven Queen's spell.

'She that has borrowed young Tamlane
Has gotten a stately groom,
She's taken away my bonniest knight,
Left nothing in his room.
'But had I known, Tamlane, Tamlane,
A lady would borrow thee,
I'd hae ta'en out thy two grey eyne,
Put in two eyne of tree.
'Had I but known, Tamlane, Tamlane,
Before we came from home,
I'd hae ta'en out thy heart o' flesh,
Put in a heart of stone.'
Had I but had the wit yestreen
That I have got today,
I'd paid the Fiend seven times his teind
Ere you'd been won away.'

The tale of Janet and Tam Lin seems to me to embody all the qualities I believe in and try to live by - endurance, courage, strength, holding fast and standing your ground no matter what happens. Not just true love, but every worth while endeavour demands your whole heart and soul, the stubborn determination to see it through to the end.

I loved those old songs of heroes and great deeds, such as Boulavogue and Bold Fenian Men, but the ones that haunted me and became my personal myths were the songs of quiet heroism - the courageous mother sheltering her child in the Castle of Dromore, the brave souls spiriting Bonnie Prince Charlie across the water in the Sky Boat Song...
All of these are my myths, that helped to make me who I am.