Researching my heritage I didn’t have to look far to find the name Niall Noigiallach (Niall of the Nine Hostages.)  In researching possible connections to the O’Neills and McNeils in my own genealogy I looked at Niall’s.  He is a fascinating figure in Irish History and Legend, and, as you might expect, this is true of the genealogical connections to this Ard Righ (High King) of Ireland.

Within the scope of this discussion are a legendary (but could it be credible?) connection deep into antiquity, all the way back to Adam.  Christian monks recorded this connection, but was the adding of this part of the genealogy a fabrication or an inescapably obvious connection to the oral tradition that substantiated his right to rule?

Niall was a Milesian King and there are some who would doubt the historicity of this as much as they might the Tuatha de Dana or the Partholonians.  The Book of Invasions would seem somewhat pointless if it was based on nothing at all.  How much of what is put down to myth was real and what impact did this have on Niall in particular, but Ireland in general?

Niall raided Britain and perhaps as far as the Continent, among his abductions was a certain boy named Succat, a boy who would become a transformational force in Ireland known to the world as St. Patrick, the patron of Ireland.  Niall’s son, Loegaire, met this escaped slave brought to Ireland by his father.  As such, I think Niall, the Ui Niall, and Ireland generally faced transformation because of his actions and his descendants continued the process.  One of the most famous Early Irish Churchmen was Columcille who was himself a prince of the Ui Niall dynasty.

I think it is undeniable that Niall Noigiallach is a transformational figure.  In Irish History and Legend he holds a place between the two.  In addition to the title “Nine Hostages” the epithet “Semi-Legendary” is applied to Niall.  Some don’t believe he was all that the Four-Masters said he was, but DNA forces most to admit that, if nothing else, he was.

There is no end of argument about the Ard Righship of Ireland.  Many if not most experts doubt that in the imbroglio that was Irish pre-Christian politics a true over-king that ruled the entirety of Ireland was possible.  Many even argue that nobody back then claimed the title and that it is an invention of later imaginative documentation and dynastic justification after the fact.

All these may be true, but Niall stands at a crossroads in history where, while once, in the dim pagan past, every small Tuath had its king, afterward is seen the  unification and record keeping of Christian monks that made claims a bit more testable, at least to historians.

Strange too (a Christian like me would say miraculous)that Milesian Ireland, so violent, so war prone, should be converted to Christianity so readily and with so little blood-shed.  Christianity’s story is one of violent repressions failing to halt the spread of the Gospel, one after another, after another.  Why in Ireland, where among the elite, war was very nearly a religion of its own, would Christianity conquer bloodlessly?  Why in Ireland did the Irish, feeling they were not made to suffer, invented new sorts of martyrdom, Green and White, that influenced not only the Irish, but the Continent as well? 

It may be that Niall, standing at this crossroad, holds some light to shed on this miracle.

LSO

PS.  This is an introduction of sorts.  I have been working on a post that has swelled to many thousand words.  My goal here should be shorter posts and as time passed and new posts went wanting I realized that I needed to change my approach to this vast topic.  The above is long on assertion and hints, but short on facts.  I’ve broached a myriad of topics in this one little post which I will link to from this as I produce them a bit at a time.

A Story that Grows in the Telling

Everything that happens, if it involves more than one person, will have two or more opinions about what actually happened.  The truth, if there is such a thing, will be somewhere among the opinions.  I think a legend at its base is a story that grows in the telling, resonating more and more with the audience, while it grows less and less true to its origin. 

A legend, to a storyteller, is too good to pass up.  In fact it is opportunity after opportunity to tell it plain, but instead, the bard, or skald, or elder decides to tell it so they see eyes grow wide, eyes that are rivetted on the storyteller. 

Fables provide lessons (and often talking animals), Myths explain gods and their interactions with people, Epics follow a series of critical events.  Epic Fable?  Mythological Epic?  Lore applies to the collected stories of a people, perhaps it is their stories that make them a people.  All these names for stories are words to describe stories of different flavors, but all of them, in someway, provide cultural cohesion.  Don’t you think?

J. R. R. Tolkien set out to provide what he felt his people lacked, a mythos for the British people.  It was Epic, it was Mythical, it spoke to me and continues to, as a reader, I hated to see it end.  Really, I hated the end, it seemed to me that Grey Havens was one of the sadest personal tragedies that I’ve endured.  Fine for Frodo and Bilbo, I’m sure Merry and Pippin and of course Sam all got on fine, but for me that world just ended.  There is a hole.

The nearest thing to the feeling of exploration and discovery that I got with LOTR is the discovery of Irish Mythology.  It is not in a neat package like LOTR.  It doesn’t have just one imaginer.  But it is an exciting and involving subject.  The hole is partly filled.

But I want more.  Sometimes you have to supply your own needs, like almost all the time you do so, I am in the process of writing several novels, but on the way to that I offer these thoughts, insights, resources, and diversions of interest to me and, I hope, to you.  Here I hope to gather legends and lore, notes on antiquity, and present day reality.

For now, welcome and please tell me what you like or you don’t.  I value your insights; I value your eyes, riveted, grown wide.

A Story Told (and told and told)

I’m a man with a story.  Even my name, O’Neill, has tales attached to it (like this one of the Hand Gules that is prominent in our heraldry,) but don’t we all?  I love old tales, tales of heroes, tales of real people in strange times and strange people in real times.  I have wanted to write such tales and, prodded by my friend, Jeffery, I have. 

I’ve just completed the first draft of a short story.  In the end Concerning The Deer Riders wandered a bit farther than I had anticipated.  Legendary wanderings?  You can read Concerning the Deer Riders yourself and see what you think.

I’ve begun a novel.  I am offering my unedited first draft as I write it.  When Jeffery first convinced me to try this format I realized that the first job was to get some content up and quick.  As such, my first use has been something of an artist’s sketchbook, an author’s notepad.  I do believe there is value in this.  Eventually it may be of use to other struggling writers to see the story of my struggle and see process as positive or negative example or even to provide encouragement by comparison.

Dear reader, I am a new novelist and at present I believe that my best chance of developing is getting something out there.  If you disagree please tell me, perhaps I will progress on several tracks. putting out raw very rough drafts and going back through past stories to sharpen and polish them.  Here is the novel beginnings: Intro to and  Beginning of The Abbot and the Djinn. Follow my progress HERE.

Of late I feel that I’ve put quite a bit of ore on these pages.  It is probably time to refine, to polish, to hammer some of these tales into something better than they were.  So now, we begin the  “. . . and told and told and told” part of the writers craft.  Find my polished stones here.

Tir na Nua

I have imagined a world apart.  A land out of time.  Now, on Earth, there is little doubt about some things which have happened, have passed into history.  These things are written.  Before and between the stone of what is written are legends of things not written, but perhaps true none-the-less. 

Tir na Nua is neither and both.  Have you wished that there was a land where the Celtic world did not fall beneath the Roman?  Have you wondered what that world might have been?  Such things have happened in the new land and we have word of it, remembered by bards, lineage by rote, History in mind and on their lips.  I bring these stories.

At one time folk we identify now as Celtic dominated much of Europe. Except for ruins, and votive offerings, and the words of enemies, and a very few scratchings on stones we have nothing left of these people.  To imagine a Celtic world like insular Ireland one must imagine the real, because there is little enough to instruct us as to what that real, Earthly world was like.  Enter the legend maker, the storyteller, the bard. 

I have had an interest in the real Celts, Gauls, Britons, Welsh, all the diverse tribes of a people who shared a way of life and an asthetic sense and language if not blood.  I want to gather material, post what I find, and get your reactions to topics of Antiquity, Celts in general, Insular Ireland, and of course my stories.

Sometimes I wish I dwelled in Tir na Nua, but instead I live in a much less misty, more pedestrian, and I would say, far less noble world.  Some things that come to my attention must not pass without comment.  I will comment on current events. (sorry if this is a buzz kill, please feel free to ignore all political rants of the author and return to escapist literature.) 

Content

I am working to put some of my scratchings, secreted away in numerous notebooks, into a form more conducive to your perusal and consumption.  These first draft stories and bits of back story are available at blog topics.

Here is a bit of that ever expanding effort? work? uh, drekk? Hopefully fascinating fiction.

I have in mind to collect many things here, but I want to produce for you stories of places outside of your experience (or anyones) and yet true and recognizable. You are welcome to browse as it accretes (I think this may be another Steveism. I should really look for it in some authoritative Dictionary.*) I will update metatags and such to reflect the sites altered state. It will never be done…

I pray I have not taxed your resources too much. Enjoy! Comment! Dispute! Encourage! Correct! Guide! Request!

Welcome to this,

LSO

PS. * ac·crete (-krt)

2. To grow or increase gradually, as by addition.

source

A Story that Grows in the Telling

A legend, at its base, is a true story that has grown in the telling, resonating more and more with the audience, while it grows less and less true to its origin.  A legend, to a storyteller, is a tale too good to pass up.  In fact it is opportunity after opportunity to tell a story as you heard it, but instead, the bard, or skald, or elder decides to tell it so they see eyes grow wide, eyes that are rivetted on the storyteller. 

Fables are lessons often presented by talking animals, Myths report the deeds of gods and their interactions with people, Epics detail a series of critical events.  But can you really catagorize a story so easily? Epic Fable?  Mythological Epic?  Legendary Myth?  What are they?  What is it?

Could it be Lore?

One might say that the word Lore applies to the collected stories of a people, perhaps they are the stories that make them a people.  All these words for stories describe tales of different flavors, but all of these provide cultural cohesion.  They are a shared heritage.  And there is another word to add to our growing list, heritage.  Don’t you think?  

J. R. R. Tolkien set out to provide what he felt his people lacked, a mythos for the British people.  It was Epic, it was Mythical, it spoke to me and continues to speak.  As a reader, I hated to see it end, but it did.  There is a small enough corpus of polished Tolkien fiction.  I have to say that I have felt the lack, but then Tolkien himself is a legend. 

I think Dennis L. McKiernan expressed a similar sentiment.  I’m no JRR Tolkien and neither is Dennis.  Personally I much prefer Morgan Llywelyn to McKiernan,  or Parke Godwin or George Martin (George’s Website) or. . . almost anyone, (sorry Dennis, in fairness I need to read something more recent of yours because I think I read your first high fantasy book and felt it was derivative, but then you said right up front what I’ve always felt, that there needs to be more high fantasy like JRR’s and you tried to fill that massive void.  Good for you.)

And since Dennis has ventured forth into Heroic, Epic, High Fantasy I feel that I may too.  Perhaps I will meet with even less success.  But this is my wee bit flung into the void.  It is to that end, the filling of the void, that I have conceived of Tir na Nua.

Welcome to Tir na Nua

I am in the process of writing stories, short and long and several novels, but on the way to that I offer these thoughts, insights, resources, and diversions of interest to me and, I hope, to you. 

I hope to gather legends and lore, notes on antiquity, and present day reality. You see, a legend is changed by its times, a story is shaped by the telling.  Present reality makes an impression both on how a tale is told and how it is heard.   For now, welcome and please tell me what you like or you don’t.  I value your insights; I value your eyes, riveted, grown wide.

A Story Told (and told and told)

I’m a man with a story.  Even my name, O’Neill, has tales attached to it (like this one of the Hand Gules that is prominent in our heraldry,) but don’t we all?  I love old tales, tales of heroes, tales of real people in strange times and strange people in real times.  I have wanted to write such tales and, prodded by my friend, Jeffery, I have. 

I’ve just completed the first draft of a short story.  In the end Concerning The Deer Riders wandered a bit farther than I had anticipated.  Legendary wanderings?  You can read Concerning the Deer Riders yourself and see what you think.

I’ve also begun a novel.  At least that is my intent.  Considering changes to my schedule I think I may progress differently than I did for the Deer Riders.  I intend to get it done before my birthday.  A bit of a gift to me.  But we shall see.  As such, considering the time, with my available time, without a history of being able to work that quickly expect IF I DO that it will be very raw.  Dear reader, I am a new novelist and at present I believe that my best chance of developing is getting something out there.  If you disagree please tell me, perhaps I will progress on several tracks. putting out raw very rough drafts and going back through past stories to sharpen and polish them.  Here is the novel beginnings: Intro to and  Beginning of The Abbot and the Djinn. Follow my progress HERE.

Tir na Nua

I have imagined a world apart.  A land out of time.  Now, on Earth, there is little doubt about some things which have happened, have passed into history.  These things are written.  Before and between the stone of what is written are legends of things not written, but perhaps true none-the-less. 

Tir na Nua is neither and both.  Have you wished that there was a land where the Celtic world did not fall beneath the Roman?  Have you wondered what that world might have been?  Such things have happened in the new land and we have word of it, remembered by bards, lineage by rote, History in mind and on their lips.  I bring these stories.

At one time folk we identify now as Celtic dominated much of Europe. Except for ruins, and votive offerings, and the words of enemies, and a very few scratchings on stones we have nothing left of these people.  To imagine a Celtic world like insular Ireland one must imagine the real, because there is little enough to instruct us as to what that real, Earthly world was like.  Enter the legend maker, the storyteller, the bard. 

I have had an interest in the real Celts, Gauls, Britons, Welsh, all the diverse tribes of a people who shared a way of life and an asthetic sense and language if not blood.  I want to gather material, post what I find, and get your reactions to topics of Antiquity, Celts in general, Insular Ireland, and of course my stories.

Sometimes I wish I dwelled in Tir na Nua, but instead I live in a much less misty, more pedestrian, and I would say, far less noble world.  Some things that come to my attention must not pass without comment.  I will comment on current events. (sorry if this is a buzz kill, please feel free to ignore all political rants of the author and return to escapist literature.) 

Content

I am working to put some of my scratchings, secreted away in numerous notebooks, into a form more conducive to your perusal and consumption.

Here is a bit of that ever expanding effort? work? uh, drekk? Hopefully fascinating fiction.

I have in mind to collect many things here, but I want to produce for you stories of places outside of your experience (or anyones) and yet true and recognizable. You are welcome to browse as it accretes (I think this may be another Steveism. I should really look for it in some authoritative Dictionary.*) I will update metatags and such to reflect the sites altered state. It will never be done…

I pray I have not taxed your resources too much. Enjoy! Comment! Dispute! Encourage! Correct! Guide! Request!

Welcome to this,

LSO

PS. * ac·crete (-krt)

2. To grow or increase gradually, as by addition.

source

I’m not sure that “blog topics” are an important part of this blog.  Is this a blog?  Perhaps that’s because I don’t feel like I’m blogging at all.  I think of this as more of an internet based note-pad for research and drafts that lead to fiction.  As such perhaps this is a blit, or a bfic, or something else.  I’m not doing anything revolutionary.  At the risk of putting you on to something that makes my little errr, umm, blit redundant, look at what is going on in the world of Lothere.

On the way there, to fiction, or weblit, or bfic, I’m going to be digging through fact and fiction, myth and legend, and some of it should be of interest if you’ve made it this far.  So, welcome here and I hope you enjoy exploring.

So far, these are the topics I have begun:

Antiquity

The Celts

Stories

The Author (if I may be so bold)

Current Events

This blog/weblit/bfic has progressed quite a bit since last I updated this page, so I see I need to do a bit more with this.  But imagine yourself a hunter and this a trail to be followed to what you want.  No guarantees, it’s a hunt.

LSO

“Ah, the good old days.” I’m sure you’ve heard the old saw and perhaps thought the speaker a bit behind the times. Progress right? The dominant view promulgated in every possible way is that things are progressing, evolving, and we know more and better now than we ever did and will know still more in the future. It is almost irksome when old fogies hark back wistfully to those “good old days” because it is just that sort of attitude that delays the next marvelous achievement, the next leap forward.

It is a bias and perhaps unfounded. Though our material society has made material progress (: walking, riding, flying, flying faster, flying higher) I think there is a belief that the progression has been smooth from stone tools to supersonic jets. We think that we sit at-top the pinnacle of the pyramid of progress and do not see the fallen edifices of cultures past.

You see, I do not pick the pyramid as an illustration of progress for no reason. Have you considered how long the pyramids that still exist all over the world have been in place? Do you know their purpose? Did you realize that some of the wonders that molder in forgotten corners are on a scale that we can not yet replicate?

But we sit upon our own pyramid of progress and do not see the hills around us for what they were. What the rounded mountains in the distance may have been.

As we rush forward, building our society on technology that we can not individually replicate, how long do you think it would take for our society to crumble and leave only bare stone bones, or in our case concrete and asphalt? What would remain that our flint napping progeny could hark back to?

It is something to ponder when you wake from difficult dreams in the night.