poetry and the Fae

poetry and the fae have a long association, with the best known being that of True Thomas, or Thomas the Rhymer.

Born Thomas Learmonth around 1220, he is the author of many prophetic verses, although some were most certainly fabricated after his death around 1298 in order to further the cause of Scottish independence.

Thomas’ gift of prophecy is linked to his poetic ability, a gift granted him after he spent seven years in Fairyland with the Queen of Elfland.

While I am no True Thomas and have never spent but more than a few hours at a time inside the magical realm of faerie, I’d like to share with you two pieces of my own poetry inspired by the fae.

The fae think they make delightful light summer reading during the turgid, drowsy month of July.

THE FAERIE FOLK

Down in the meadow where the mosses grow,

The Pixies dance with their hair aglow.
Deep in the forest where the trees grow tall,

The Dryads hold men’s hearts in thrall.

In rivers, springs, fountains and streams,

Naiads whisper their sultry dreams.
On the moonlit shore of a secluded bay,

Kelpies shed their skins and play.

Beneath the ocean’s waves and foaming curls,

An Undine entwines her hair with pearls.
Upon a rocky shore perhaps you’ll hear

A Mermaid singing, soft and clear.

Look to the sky and high mountain peak

If it’s the winged Sylphs you seek.
High in the midnight sky do climb,

Dragons and Gryphons in their prime.

Within their deep dug diamond caverns,

Dwarves drink in their shinning taverns.
Wherever minerals gather in great numbers

So the Gnomes are wont to slumber.

Be you looking for shoes or wealth,

Tis the Leprechaun you must approach with stealth.
Next to the hearth you will always find

A loyal Brownie to each house assigned.

Slight not these helpful fellows nor spurn,

Or Hobgoblins into Boggarts turn.
From under the eaves when death draws near,

The Banshees wail and soon appear.

Out on the marshes at the end of day,

Will o’ the Wisps wait to lead you astray.
Rocking in the cradle by the candle light,

Changelings cry o’er their pitiful plight.

Beware the shape-shifting gray horse,

The Kelpie will drown you and much worse.
If you at night a black horse do meet,

Tis a Pooka and your foot best be fleet.

To see the Faerie Folk is to be granted a boon,

Given only under a Faerie Full Moon;
Come dance with me when the moon is bright

In my Faerie Circle to gain Faerie Sight.

Kat Cranston

February 2008

MY HOUSE FAERIES

The other night I chanced to hear

A scuffle going on quite near.

The sounds weren’t very loud at all,

But did sound like some kind of brawl.

I looked around my room to see

Just what on earth the noise could be.

I closed my eyes and concentrated,

The fighting still had not abated.

Was that a yelp that I just heard,

A clash of swords? Oh, how absurd!

Now without the aid of eyes,

I let my ears become my spies.

Quickly realization spread;

It came from underneath my bed!

There behind the bed’s dust ruffle

Was going on a mighty scuffle.

All my brownies and house elves

To the teeth had armed themselves.

The enemy were (the mere thought sickens)

Dust bunnies grown as big as chickens.

Each had two beady eyes, redly glowing,

And two long yellow teeth, still growing.

They really were a gruesome sight,

And not at all inclined to be polite.

Encouraging our side to do their best,

I lay back down to get some rest.

I had no doubt by break of day,

Those dust bunnies would be cleared away

By my faithful, dust bunny-eating fae.

Kat Cranston

February 2010

May a faerie muse seek you out and amuse you throughout the whole of summer.  Bendithion!

Midsummer Eve:  Second Faerie Festival of the Year

By

Kat Cranston

Midsummer Eve, also known as Litha, Samradh, Alban Hefin, Aerra Litha, Mother Night, and St. John’s Eve, is the second of the three yearly Faerie Realm festivals.  This sabbat is tied to the Summer Solstice, which occurs on 21 June in the Northern Hemisphere this year.  The other two faerie festivals occur on May Eve and November Eve (Samhain).

Midsummer Eve is a sabbat that has a lot of faerie lore attached to it.  This is the time when entrance to the faerie realm is easiest and faerie mounds are practically “open to the public!”  Faerie powers are at their strongest, and they are frolicsome and very merry, dancing around bonfires, singing and cavorting with abandon.

Seeing Faeries

Midsummer Eve at dusk, especially if the moon is full, is precisely the best time for viewing faeries—if you have their favor or they wish to procure your services. Oak, ash and thorn make up the faerie tree triad of Britain, and where they grow together one can see faeries.  Here is a recipe from the 16^th century that, when rubbed on the eyelids, will help one to gain faerie sight:

Take a pint of sallet oyle and put it into a vial glasse; and first wash it with rose-water and marigold-water; the flowers to be gathered toward the east.  Wash it until the oyle becomes white, then put into the glasse, and then put thereto the budds of young hazle, and the thyme must be gathered near the side of a hill where fairies use to be; and take the grasse of a fairie throne; then all these put into the oyle in the glasse and sette it to dissolve three days in the sunne and keep it for thy use.

Note that there are several varieties of flowers that go by the name of “marigold.”  The marigold referred to in this recipe is the pot marigold, also known as calendula and native to the European continent, and not to be confused with the common marigold, or tagetes, native to the American continent.

Remember to prepare and set out an offering so they will not feel you are infringing on their privacy and whatever you do, look only!  Faeries can be dangerous and they are capable of playing all kinds of tricks ranging from innocent pranks to inflicting death.  Faerie morality is high unpredictable.

Protective Measures

To gain protection from the faerie tricks and mischief, you should jump the ritual Midsummer Eve bonfire and drive your herds (or better yet, walk with your children) between two bonfires.  To increase the fire’s protection, add the herb St. John’s Wort, which is in full bloom this time of year.  Place St. John’s Wort over your doorway or weave it into a garland with marigolds and ivy, then put it around the neck of any farm animals you possess.  If you don’t feel like you’ve done enough, take your protective measures further by following this description of London written by historian John Stow in 1598:

Every man’s door was shaded with green birch, fennel, St. John’s Wort, orpin, white lilies, and the like, ornamented with garlands of beautiful flowers.  They…had also lamps of glass with oil burning in them all night; and some of them hung out branches of iron, curiously wrought, containing hundreds of lamps lighted at once, which made a splendid appearance.

Steer Clear

An Irish faerie that changes shape from a very wide man in a high hat and scarf to a beast or bearded sheep, the Amadán-na-Briona, also known as The Fool of the Forth, is very dangerous.  His mere touch causes an incurable madness or death.  He is very active the entire month of June with Midsummer being especially provocative.  If you meet him, shout, “The Lord be between us and harm,” otherwise as the Irish say, “To meet the Amadán is to be in prison forever.”  Look for him to knock on your door late at night or pop up from behind a hedge.

A German faerie that loves to create elflocks in people’s hair and beards, the Pilwiz can become dangerous if you trespass in its mountainous lands and it shoots you with an elfbolt.  Worse still, the Pilwiz is a thief, raiding cornfields at night.  If you can catch the Pilwiz in the act of thievery at noon on Midsummer Day, the Pilwiz will die for a year.  However, if the Pilwiz sees you first, you will die.  There are less dangerous means of dealing with a Pilwiz and if one plagues you, I urge you not to take this risk.

A Shetland faerie with an aversion to sunlight, Trows, also called Night Stealers or Creepers, live in mounds amongst vast treasure hoards.  At Midsummer, the music-loving Trows contort their squat and misshaped bodies in a crouching and hopping dance called henking.  Trows engage in kidnapping children and leaving changelings in their place, so it’s best not to spend too much time in their company, although they also are fond of giving gifts of money to humans who please them, especially fiddlers.

Faerie Paths

Folklore has well documented the existence of faerie paths; dire were the consequences to those who built a human structure on one.  Invisible to the human eye, one way to check a site to ensure it would not impede any faerie traffic was to nail down four hazel branches, one each at the four corners of the proposed structure, and see if the branches were disturbed the next morning.  If they were, the verdict was in and construction was wisely abandoned.

If you see a procession of lights moving in a direct line from one faerie mound to another on Midsummer Eve, the faeries are on the move along a faerie path.  They are on their way to visit their neighbors for a grand Midsummer Eve party, or they are pulling out and moving to a new location.  Either way, don’t risk getting in their way.

Faerie Brides

Midsummer Eve is when male fae are wont to steal away pretty, human girls to become their brides.  They often appear as tall, dark, noble looking men that charm the desired girl, dancing with her all night long.  The next day the girl, imbued with inhuman, ethereal grace and beauty, will begin to waste away, becoming more beautiful each day, until she dies.  Her soul then travels to Tir Na Og, where it is always summer, and she becomes the bride of her faerie sweetheart.  Such marriages are accompanied by rigorous taboos and conditions, such as the fairy husband must not be looked upon on certain days nor struck a certain number of times nor touched by the bride with iron.  If the faerie husband abandons his human wife, she will waste away and die…again.

Dressing of Wells

The faeries that guard and are responsible for the well-being of fountains, wells, springs, streams and brooks are the naiads.  These faeries may appear in the guise of a fish, a frog, a mermaid, a winged serpent, or even a fly.

To honor and appease these guardians, place garlands of flowers, ribbons and other finery around the well at Midsummer.  First, approach the well from the east and walk about it sunwise three times.  You may also toss offerings of pins or coins into the well.  This will ensure that the water runs fresh and clean for another year.

Battle of the Kings

At Midsummer, the sun seems to stand still, for this is the longest day and shortest night of the year.  From this time onwards, the days gradually grow shorter again.  Although they are not typical faeries, yet neither are they Gods, the Kings of Oak and Holly meet at Midsummer to battle for their kingship.  The Holly King defeats the Oak King and begins his six-month reign until the two Kings meet again at Yule.  These foliate Kings share many aspects of the Horned God and the Green Man of forest, both of which are dedicated to the preservation of nature, as are the fae.  For lovers of the fae to include and honor these two mighty forces in their Midsummer celebration is wholly appropriate.

Bibliography and Works Cited/Recommended Reading:

• Kowalchik, C. and Hylton, W.H. Editors, Rodale’s Illustrated Encyclopedia of Herbs , Rodale , 1998, p. 60
• McCoy, Edain, A Witch’s Guide to Faery Folk, Llewellyn Publications, 2006
• Ellis, Jeanette, Forbidden Rites: Your Complete Introduction to Traditional Witchcraft, O , 2009, p. 151
• Lenihan, Eddie, Meeting the Other Crowd, Penguin Putman Inc., 2003
• Franklin, Anna, The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Fairies, Paper Tiger, 2002
• Franklin, Anna, Working With Fairies: Magick, Spells, Potions &

• Recipes

  • Aramid’s Cauldron
to Attract & See Them, New Page , 2005
• Briggs, Katharine, An Encyclopedia of Fairies, Pantheon , 1976

We of the pagan persuasion will be celebrating the sabbat of Imbolc (“in the belly) on 2 February here in the Northern hemisphere.  This sabbat is also known as Oimelc (“milk of ewes”), Candlemas, St. Brigid’s Day (or Brigit, Brighid, Bride, or Brìd), Là Fhèill Brìghde (Scotland), Lá Fhéile Bríde (Ireland), G?yl Fair (Wales), Brigantia, and Lupercalia, and may be spelled Imbollgc.

For those who were unable or preferred not to perform the Twelfth Night ritual of removing their Yuletide foliage from the home to release any fae or nature spirits residing therein, as one of the four fire festivals Imbolc is an excellent time to do so.  Burning your spent evergreens in the Imbolc bonfire will release and honor the fae while simultaneously celebrating the growth of the newly reborn Sun.

Here are some ways I honor and work with the fae on Imbolc:

Plantable Paper:

Our fae friends, as the guardians of nature, will appreciate any effort you make on their behalf to keep the earth green. Paper you can plant is a project you can do that involves both recycling and growing life-sustaining greenery.

Making paper from trash is really quite easy.  You can use newspaper, junk mail, discarded printer paper, gift-wrap, etc., to create paper pulp.  Just be sure to remove any pieces of plastic (such as windows on envelopes) and staples as they are not good for the environment or your blender.

Once you have gathered the materials you will be recycling, you need to create a deckle.  The deckle is simply a frame with a screen that lets water drain away leaving the paper pulp behind.  If you don’t have two old frames sitting around gathering dust that you can use, two unadorned inexpensive wooden frames about 8”X11” are readily available at craft and home stores.  You will need two pieces of screen about an inch bigger than your frame all the way round and of the type used on windows.  You will most like find this type of screen at a home or building supply store if there are no old screen doors or windows around from which you can “harvest.”  Using small nails or a staple gun, affix one screen to the flattest side of one of your frames.  When you are ready to use the deckle, place the second frame, flattest side down, against the screened side of the first frame, trapping the screen between the frames.

You are now ready to create your pulp.  Pour a blender filled with water into a tub (such as an old kitty litter tray or a roasting pan) that is at least 4” bigger on all sides than your deckle.  Then fill your blender to the halfway point with water and hand shred the equivalent of about three sheets of paper into 1” to 2” pieces and place them in the blender.  Begin at the lowest speed and work your way up to the highest speed until all of the junk paper thoroughly disintegrates.  Do this until all your scraps are blended, but do not overfill the tub; leave at least 2” to 3” unfilled.

Hold your deckle firmly on the longer sides and slip it into the tub of pulp at a downward angle until it is fully immersed.  Swish the deckle from side to side and back and forth, agitating and evenly dispersing the pulp in the water.  Holding the deckle level with the floor, raise it out of the pulp and let the water drain.  The pulp fibers that remain in the deckle are about to become your first sheet of paper!  Practice will make the amount of pulp in the deckle more (thicker paper) or less (thinner paper).

Set the deckle on a baking sheet with sides and gently lift off the top frame.  Sprinkle the wet pulp with seeds you have selected and that will grow in your area.  Sprinkle (or place) them in the correct density for the type of seed chosen.  Now place the second screen over the pulp and seeds.  Using a sponge, gently press straight down to remove water from the paper pulp.  Wring out your sponge often.  When the second screen is sticking nicely to the pulp, turn the deckle over and sponge again, this time upon the screen attached to the deckle, until you cannot remove any more water.  Try lifting the bottom of the deckle to see if your sheet of paper sticks to the deckle.  You want it to transfer to the second screen.  If it does not, flip again and sponge some more.

Once the sheet of paper is off the deckle, you can remove even more water from it by placing it between two absorbent sheets of paper called couching sheets.  If you do not have couching sheets, children’s white/light colored construction paper works okay.  Place the couching sheet atop the handmade paper still on the second screen and, using a pressing bar (anything flat, like a piece of 2X4) firmly press and smooth the sheet.  The handmade paper should lift off the screen and onto the couching sheet.  Place a second couching sheet on top of the handmade paper, sandwiching it between the couching sheets, and use the pressing bar again.  Remove the couching sheets.  Your paper is now ready to be dried.  If you want your sheets to dry flat, you can layer them between sheets of waxed paper and place them under old books or stacks of telephone directories; otherwise, lay them on a tablecloth and let them dry naturally.  (Note:  When disposing of your leftover paper pulp and water, do not pour it down the drain or toilet.  Strain the pulp out of the water and dispose of it in the trash, and use the water to water your outdoor plants, or your plantable paper if you plant it immediately.)

On Imbolc, during your celebration and ceremony, dedicate the sheets to the fae by asking for their blessing while passing the handmade papers through flame (bonfire or candle) and smoke (incense).  Here is an example of a blessing you may use, although it is always best to write your own or speak from the heart:

Imbolc Faerie Blessing
by Kat Cranston

Come hither now, Good Folk,

Nature’s first children, faeries free.

Guardians of all growing things,

Hear what I would ask of thee:

Elves of the Earth,

See that the soil is ready for birth.

Sylphs of the Air,

See that the winds blow gentle and fair.

Dragons of the Fire,

See that the days grow warm and drier.

Naiads of the Water,

See that the rains do softly nurture.

Go hither now, Good Folk,

Nature’s first children, faeries free.

Guardians of all growing things,

Do what I have asked of thee.

Then, as soon as the ground thaws or when it is time to plant the seeds you selected, place the dedicated paper at the correct depth into Mother Earth (which includes potting soil in containers, so it’s possible to do this on Imbolc!) and wait for the miracle of life to begin once again.  Know the fae will watch over the seedlings and that you have made a healthy contribution to the turning of the Wheel.

Paper Whites:

I don’t know about you, but when I lived in New England, by this time of year I was desperate to see signs of life.  I satisfied this need by “forcing” paper white bulbs.  Not only do they smell wonderful, but also their beautiful flowers are white, one of the colors of Imbolc.  In addition, my house faeries adore them.

On Imbolc, during your celebration and ceremony, dedicate your paper white bulbs to the fae by asking for their blessing while carefully passing the bulbs through flame (bonfire or candle) and smoke (incense).  Here is an example you may use, although it is best to speak from the heart or write your own blessing:

Paper White Blessing

By Kat Cranston

Little paper white

With your face so bright

Shinning like a light

After the long dark night

Little paper white

At your scent and sight

Passion will ignite

In every faerie knight

Little paper white

The faeries nearly fight

To cling to you so tight

In rapturous delight

Little paper white

The heart of every sprite

It is my wish to invite

To join with yours tonight

You will need a container that does not have any drainage holes and that is about 3” to 4” deep.  Shallow casseroles work well, as do ceramic dog dishes.  Fill the container with about 1” to 1 ½” of small stones or marbles; do not use anything else, like earth or sand.

Place as many bulbs as you can squeeze in (the more the merrier) with their tips pointing up (their bottoms will look like the bottom of an onion) on top of the stones.  Add another ½” to 1” of small stones or marbles on top of the bulbs to help keep them in place.  Don’t cover the tips; only cover about 2/3rds of each bulb.

Add enough water to cover the root area of the bulbs.  More than that and your bulbs will rot; less and the roots won’t begin to grow.  Maintain the water level (don’t do as I have done and forget to check their water!).

The bulbs don’t need any sun at this point, but when there is 1” to 2” of growth, try this trick to keep your paper whites from getting leggy and falling over.  If you don’t want to try this trick, tie a soft ribbon or yarn around the mass of stems when they start to fall over and insert a small stick to give them some support.  Pour off the water and feed your paper whites a mixture of water and hard liquor (i.e., vodka, not beer or wine).  It will reduce their height, but won’t reduce their bloom size.

To figure out the correct ratio, use the following table compiled from About.com, which shows alcohol proof converted into alcohol percentage and how much water to use with that strength of alcohol:

You can now move your paper whites into a sunny location, but don’t let them get hot.  When the blooms appear, move them back into a cooler, shadier part of the house to help them last longer.

If you don’t have fae living with you now, this may be just the thing to attract them!  However, be prepared for small, bright and shiny items to go temporarily missing and to find oddments you’ve never seen before hiding amongst the dust bunnies (who may suddenly become very militant!).  Living with the fae is simultaneously meddlesome, loving, annoying, instructional, vexing and entertaining—and worth every minute!

Bibliography and Works Cited/Recommended Reading:

“Paperwhites – Using Alcohol to Keep Paperwhites from Falling Over,” http://gardening.about.com/od/forcingandprechilling/qt/PaperWhites_Alc.htm

The Faeries of Winter

For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, the month of December is chilly and cold, if not downright frozen and filled with ice and snow.  Yuletide and the Winter Solstice is usually not a time when most people are thinking of the fae, yet even on the longest night of the year, they are still all around us, carrying out their ancient duties.

It is easy to see Jack Frost hard at work, creating delicate crystalline patterns on windows and biting exposed noses and fingertips.  A true winter faerie seen at no other time, he travels between the hemispheres on the back of the chilliest gusts of air as Old Man Winter.  In Russia, he is Father Frost, a veritable blacksmith able to forge great swaths of frozen tundra by welding together water and earth.  Travelers had best take care to avoid his icy and deadly embrace.

Let us not forget his feminine counterparts.  The Snow Queen, a Danish faerie, brings the winter snow and lives in a cold, white palace; to embrace her is to embrace death.  Childless and beautiful, she is always on the lookout to snatch away a child whose absence will go unnoticed.  The Germanic hag faerie Frau Holda and the Teutonic hag faerie Frau Holle make snow by shaking the feathers from their feather bed and quilt, respectively.  On Yuletide, Frau Holda rides across the sky in her chariot carrying her sickle to assure an auspicious harvest and bringing blessings to the newborn and dying during winter.  Sometimes she will throw gold coins down to the deserving below.  These ancient “hags” eventually became the current day Mother Goose.

Of course, we all recognize the “right jolly old elf,” Santa Claus, whose “big, round belly…shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.”  Like many Germanic traditions adopted by Christianity, Saint Nick left behind him a host of kindred.  There is the Swedish jultomte, the king of the house faeries.  He delivers Yuletide presents and receives Yuletide pudding in payment for good behavior in the coming year.  In Iceland, there is the julbuk, a horned faerie dressed in furs who is part goat and who visits homes at Yule.  He will leave peacefully if he is well fed; if not, he will rot the stored grain and spill the stored beer.  The Norwegian julenisse is another house faerie, one who looks like a little old man dressed in red with a red cap.  He makes his abode under the stairs or in dark, unused corners, and creeps out at night to eat leftover porridge left for him by the household children.  He is also a bringer of Yuletide gifts.

The Celts brought evergreen trees into the home not only because the Druids venerated the tree, but also because the tree symbolized the eternal aspect of the Goddess that never dies.  They decorated the tree with items meant to manifest blessings in the year to come:  charms for love, fruit for a good harvest, nuts for fertility, coins for wealth, and candles to lure back the sun.  We recognize this custom today as decorating a “Christmas tree.”  Scandinavians took this idea a step further.  They brought evergreen trees and greenery into their homes so the forest elementals (such as hamadryads) could use them to enjoy the warmth of the hearth and find rest from the weary cold.  This also afforded the woodland faeries the opportunity to join in the Yuletide festivities.

For reading to young children on Yuletide, I highly recommend D.J. Conway’s “The Yule Faeries,” a story reprinted and quoted often around the web as “author unknown.”  With the central theme being the rebirth of the baby Sun King, it is “a must” for pagan parents, and the book in which it appears is appropriately categorized as “juvenile fiction.”

If you want to work with a flower faerie during the winter, one is available:  the lily.  This flower faerie will connect you to the mysteries of new birth and beginnings, and will help in the development of purity and humility.  You can bring a lily, which grows from a bulb, indoors as a potted plant, and some can even be “forced.” A good choice would be Lilium “Bright Diamond,” a hybrid lily with pure white up-facing flowers.  Warning:  Many varieties of lily are toxic to cats.

So, as your Yule log is blazing away merrily in your hearth this Yuletide, spare a thought for the faeries and invite them in with a sprig of holly or a golden bough of mistletoe to share in the light and fun.  Some faeries will flock to southern locales (like some Canadians I know) and others will snooze away the winter dark.  However, as long as Mother Earth never ceases in her course, there will always be fae out and about, guarding the spirit of Nature and ensuring the continuation of Her courtly dance of life and death as the Wheel of Life turns.

Bibliography and Works Cited/Recommended Reading:

• Andrews, Ted, “Enchantment of the Faerie Realm: Communicate with Nature Spirits & Elementals,” Llewellyn Publications (2002)

• Conway, D.J., “The Ancient of Faery Magick,” Crossing Press (2005)

• Franklin, Anna, “The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Fairies,” Paper Tiger (2002)

• McCoy, Edain, “A Witch’s Guide to Faery Folk: Reclaiming Our Working Relationship with Invisible Helpers,” Llewellyn Publications (2002)

• McCoy, Edain, “Sabbats: A Witch’s Approach to Living the Old Ways,” Llewellyn Publications (2002)

• Moorey, Teresa, “The Fairy Bible,” Sterling Publishing Co. (2008)

Not very long ago, a new reader of my blog wrote me the following:

I have to say that whenever I come across a word that is new to me, such as “Faerie”, I immediately “iconoclast” the current definition I have for it out of respect (which would be in my mind a faerie is “a feminine sprite of metaphysical quality, mischievious [sic] and clad somewhat in pink” with alternate spelling)…

“Clad somewhat in pink.”  That description gave me a good giggle, but he left out wings.  What do you think about faeries with wings?  Are faeries with wings a valid archetype?  If you read book reviews, you’ll find quite a few people think faeries with wings are just so much fluff and aren’t to be taken seriously.  We’ve all heard the derogatory term “fluffy bunnies.” Must we now deal with “fluffy faeries,” too?

People all over the world, since time immemorial, have experienced the fae.  What these beings looked like and how they acted may have varied from culture to culture, but one thing was consistent until the Victorian era:  None possessed wings.  Angels had bird-like wings and demons had bat-like wings, but there were no beings with petal-, leaf-, bee-, moth-, butterfly- or dragonfly-like wings.

So how and why did faeries with wings pop into existence?  Moreover, why are they still flitting about?

In order to answer these questions, let us look back into history and examine the origins of the fae.

Some hypothesize faeries were originally pagan deities (such as the Tuatha De Danann, who were human in appearance and had no wings).  Another theory is that faeries were the souls of the dead (who were, naturally, thus human in appearance and had no wings).  Still others think faeries arose from folk memories of aboriginal races (who were thus also human in appearance and had no wings).  Another speculation is that faeries developed from the ancestral belief in an underworld (and why would creatures that lived underground have the need for flight or wings?).  The best theory, in my opinion, is that faeries originated as spirits of nature (and thus explained unexplainable natural phenomena and could take on any characteristic out of necessity, which includes wings, but didn’t until something required them).

What humans fear or do not understand, they strive to explain as best they can.  Just as the Sumerians, Egyptians, Greeks and Romans had gods, goddesses, heroes and monsters to explain everything from lightning and ocean tempests to why spring always follows winter and how the sun returns each morning; all civilizations have to deal with these same problems and questions.  Why should faeries not be responsible for or play a role in some of life’s difficulties and wonders?  In pre-Victorian ages, European peasantry blamed the fae for many natural “disasters” or else sought them out for their magical powers or abilities.

• If the milk soured, it wasn’t because someone let the milk get too warm and bacteria started to grow.  No, clearly a boggart was at fault.  Boggarts are dark and hairy, with long yellow teeth.  Boggarts, please note, have no wings.
• If the bride or groom goes missing before their wedding, it wasn’t because they eloped or one of them changed their mind.  ‘Twas trows who stole one or both of them away.  Trows are squat, misshapen and dress in grey.  Trows do not have wings.
• If you find yourself lost in familiar territory, it can’t be because you had a wee bit too much to drink or the fog is especially dense and the moon dark.  Why not blame the pixies; you were “pixie-led,” for sure.  Pixies dress all in green and are little, with red hair, pointed ears, turned up noses and short faces.  Alas, pixies do not have wings, either.
• If your child disappears while playing on the shore of the local lake, you can’t believe it was simply because they fell into the water, and being unable to swim, sadly drowned.  No, a kelpie carried off your wee bairn.  Kelpies appear as harmless grey horses, but once a rider is upon its back, the kelpie runs into the water, where it drowns and eats the rider.  Kelpies are wingless, too.
• When things are going well and times are easy, it isn’t simply because the weather has been perfect, no armies have plundered your village or farm, no virulent pestilence has ravaged the land, or you’re head-over-heels in love.  Luckily, a brownie has moved into your home and farm to assist in cleaning and tidying up, threshing the grain and churning the milk.  Brownies are small, shaggy-haired and ugly, with flat faces, wrinkled skin, pinhole nostrils, and short brown curly hair (though appearance varies from place to place).  What they all have in common, though, is no wings, no wings at all.

Throughout time, culture and literature, we find wingless fae beings.  Greek heroes took nymphs as faerie wives.  Australian aboriginals say a being called Kutchi appeared as whirls of dust.  In Europe, dust whirls are the sign of a marching faerie army, while in the Middle East, the Djinn were the very dust storms themselves.  The Greeks did have Pegasus and Nike, and the Romans had Cupid, but these were individuals, not an entire winged species.  There are some notable exceptions:  The first is griffins and harpies.  Hesiod describes harpies as bird-women and thus neither of these “monsters” fit into this article’s definition of winged fae, both having feathers like angels.  The second is dragons and gargoyles.  Having leathery wings like bats, these “monsters” also do not fit into this article’s definition of winged fae.  For the greater part, fae entities were anthropomorphic or bestial and got along very well without gossamer wings or fluttering about.

It is my contention that the universal lack of fae with wings until the Victorian age was because there was no need for them, no role for them to play, nothing for their presence to explain.  If we assume these fae have always been here, have people been too busy surviving to notice them or even know of their existence?  If we assume these fae have not always existed, why did people start to see and believe in them?  What happened?

The industrial revolution is what happened, beginning in the late 1700s and culminating by the mid-1800s.  The industrial revolution created the middle class, where before there were just two classes:  the very rich (who had lots of leisure time) and everybody else (who had no leisure time).

With the development of the middle class came a completely new set of conventions and pastimes, a completely new set of freedoms and restrictions, a result of not only a shift in wealth, but also a shift in leisure time.  Whereas fairy tales had once been titillating, salacious and rather bloody amusements for the rich, they were now nicely sanitized morality tales suitable for children, thanks largely to the efforts of the Grimm brothers.  Fairy tales still didn’t contain faeries with wings, but fairy tales and faeries had been firmly relegated to the nursery.

The industrial revolution also sparked an interest in nature as a hobby in the middle class during the Victorian era (1837-1901).  We see this in the elaborate language of flowers developed during this time, as well as the move from the unstructured cottage flower garden to the highly structured formal flower gardens that France and England still enjoy today.

In depicting faeries as spirits of nature (my favorite theory for the origin of faeries), Victorian artists melded together these two enormous social changes.  Faeries began to take on the features of the children, flowers and insects found in the nursery and the formal garden.

We first begin to see a shift in how faeries are viewed when Thomas Croker (1789-1854) describes elves as being “a few inches high, airy and almost transparent in body; so delicate in their form that a dew drop, when they chance to dance on it, trembles, indeed, but never breaks.”  He is a herald for the Victorian era which is about to flower.

In 1904, J.M. Barrie’s play, Peter Pan, or the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up, appears on the stage and is followed-up in novelized form in 1911.  In the novel, Barrie (1860-1937) describes Tinker Bell thus:

It was not really a light; it made this light by flashing about so quickly, but when it came to rest for a second you saw it was a fairy, no longer than your hand, but still growing. It was a girl called Tinker Bell exquisitely gowned in a skeleton leaf, cut low and square, through which her figure could be seen to the best advantage.  She was slightly inclined to embonpoint [be voluptuous].

…

‘O Tink, did you drink it to save me?’

‘Yes.’

‘But why, Tink?’

Her wings [emphasis added] would scarcely carry her now, but in reply she alighted on his shoulder and gave his chin a loving bite.  She whispered in his ear ‘You silly ass’; and then, tottering to her chamber, lay down on the bed.

Around the same time, hur Rackham (1867-1939) began doing black and white line drawings for Faerie Tales of the Brothers Grimm and Gulliver’s Travels (1900), and color plates for Rip Van Winkle and Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens (1905 and 1906, respectively).  In 1908, he did 40 color plates and 34 line drawings for Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.  Despite the fact that there is not a single reference to winged faeries in either Rip Van Winkle, Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, or A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Rackham created captivating illustrations of winged faeries.  Nearly all of Rackham’s winged faeries were beautifully and delicate, even the ones which were insect-like, all spindly and bug-eyed.  He combined his exceptionally detailed butterfly and dragonfly wings with classically flowing gowns and fabrics to create a delightful sense of fluidity and movement.  His faeries conveyed a sense of graceful fun, and his illustrations are still popular today.

While other artists of the time contributed to the image of the winged fae, such as Richard Dadd (1817-1886), John Fitzgerald (1819-1906), Richard Doyle (1824-1883), Lancelot Speed (1860-1931), Warwick Goble (1862–1943), and Edmund Dulac (1882-1953), Rackham’s work forms the basis for much of the winged faerie art of today.  What all of these artists had in common, however, was the ability to imbue their fae subjects with that special quality that imparts the magic and glamour inherent in these child-like faeries.  These tiny, winged fae restore and nourish the sense of wonder and suspension of disbelief we entertained as children.  They help us feel playful and happy, and as Martha Stuart would say, “That’s a good thing.”

For me, no better archetypes than the fae exist that so clearly personify the natural elements and potential of our world and our existence, helping us to understand the cycle of birth, sex, fertility and death.  Wherever there is light, there must dark be also.  In the world of the fae, this rule holds just as true as it does in ours.  Although the graceful little Victorian sprites whose wings shimmer and sparkle, who dance and flutter among the flowers, may be relative newcomers to the scene, their coquettish charm is just as vital to our understanding and appreciation of the ongoing cycle of life as are the more ancient (and rather scary) archetypes.

I’ll take my faeries just as they come, with wings or without.  It’s all good.

Bibliography and Works Cited/Recommended Reading:

Barrie, J.M., Peter and Wendy, EBook #26654, The Project Gutenberg, 2008 (www.gutenberg.org)

Briggs, Katharine, An Encyclopedia of Faeries, Pantheon , 1976

Croker, Thomas Crofton, Faerie Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland, The New Series (Two Volumes in One), Printed for John Murray, London, 1914

Franklin, Anna, The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Faeries, Paper Tiger, 2004

“How Did Faeries Get Their Wings?,” Passions Website, 2009

Meikle, Willie, “When Did Faeries Get Wings?,” Celtic Myth Podshow Website, 2008

The Encyclopeadia Britannica, Eleventh Edition, Volume X, The Encyclopeadia Britannica Co., 1910