Least Important Things
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Least Important Things
A St. Patrick's Day Tale
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In a special St. Patrick’s Day episode, Luke Ferris reads “A Legend of Knockmany” from the Irish Fairy Book.
So curl up in a wool blanket, grab a cup of tea or a pint, and settle in for a folk tale that goes deep into the lineage of Irish culture.
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Happy St. Patrick's Day, friends. Today's a special episode. I figured it is Tuesday, the 17th of March, also known as St. Patrick's Day, celebrated here in America and across the world. And since this Tuesday, where we normally drop an episode, coincides with St. Patrick's Day, I figured I'd do a St. Paddy's Day themed episode. Now, if you listened to my Salwan episode about a year and a half ago about the traditions and origins of Halloween and its relation to ancient Irish folklore and culture, you'll know a little bit about my view on St. Patrick's Day, my conflicting view on St. Patrick's Day. Now, I've grown up celebrating St. Patrick's Day in my home, Irish and American family, traditional meals, conversations about our family history or the norm. And I'm thankful that I had those times because even though my family's from Ulster, Northern Ireland, mainly, and were not Catholic, the 17th of March always was a time where we could reflect, sit back, and talk about the stories of past family members and the lineage that all of us have as Americans, or if you're living in a different part of the world, you probably have a lineage of people moving, coming from different cultures and settling somewhere. It's something that we have in America, and it's why St. Patrick's Day has become such a phenomenon in America. It's more popular in America than anywhere else in the world, even Ireland. Now, the stereotypes of St. Patrick's Day are what bugged me, and it's very easy to be cynical any Western holiday just to see the commercialism of it. I mean, St. Patrick's Day is one of the biggest bar days of the year. And it's ironic because it is fueled by Irish beverage companies like Guinness and Jameson. Perpetuate the idea that you take the 17th of March to daydrink. And I don't mean to disdain anybody from having a couple pints with their friends this past weekend. It's fine. I think there's a positivity around this day that's probably a good thing. If you look at the history of Irish Americans and how they were treated in America, I think it's it's a good thing that there's positivity around this day. But I think you have to peel back the history, peel back the meaning of what it means to be Irish American. And remember that it's more than just clovers and leprechauns and drinking in green. It's much deeper than that. So I'm gonna take a sip of my Irish breakfast tea. It's actually Thompson's tea, which is from Belfast. I drink a lot of berry's tea. It's uh it's hard to find, and it was out from the place I usually get it, and I it went with Thompson's, which is based out of Belfast and uh delicious. I have a little milk in mind. Sometimes I add a little bit of sugar if I'm feeling crazy. So instead of talking about an Irish film or talking about the history of St. Patrick's, you can look all that stuff up online. I figured we'd take today's episode to read a little bit of Irish folklore, to read a little bit about the legends, and helps us think about, whether you're Irish or not, that whatever holiday or moment you celebrate your culture, whether it's everyday or or a corporatized holiday or a religious holiday, it's always good to go deeper into the tradition, to understand the lineage, to hear the stories of people that have come past. Because when I think we understand our past, we truly can live in our present. So I hope you have a lovely St. Patrick's Day. I watched the rugby this weekend, Ireland beats Scotland. Maybe you're gonna have a traditional meal, maybe you're gonna watch a movie like the Patriot Games or The Wind That Shakes the Barley. Maybe you're gonna have a Guinness or a Jameson or a Bushmills, or have a cup of tea. But feel free to play this story, settle back, enjoy time with family, friends, maybe start a fire, hear the drip of a cool spring rain, and settle in for the legend of Nakamani. Now, this is a story about Northern Ireland and Ulster, and it talks about the Giants Causeway, which, if you've never been, is truly one of the most remarkable structures of stone you'll ever see. It looks like it was created by an architect. And its majesty, its size, its location on the north of the island adds to the legend that it was created by giants. Which leads into this story that I wanted to share with you on St. Patrick's Day. This comes from the Irish fairy book, The Legend of Nakamani. It so happened that Finn and his gigantic relatives were all working at the giant's causeway in order to make a bridge, or what was still better, a good stout pad road across to Scotland. When Finn, who was very fond of his wife, Una, took it into his head that he would go home and see how the poor woman got on in his absence. So accordingly he put up a fir tree and after lopping off the roots and branches, made a walking stick of it and set out his way to Una. Finn lived at this time at Nakamani Hill, which faces Calimore that rises up half hill, half mountain on the opposite side. The truth is that Honest Finn's affection for his wife was by no manner of means the whole cause of his journey home. There was at this time another giant, named Far Rua. Some say he was Irish and some say he was Scotch, but whether Scotch or Irish, sorrow doubt of it, but he was a targar. No other giant of the day could stand before him, and such was his strength that, when well vexed, he could give a stamp that shook the country about him. The frame in the name of him went far and near, and nothing in the shape of a man, it was said had any chance with him in a fight. Whether the story is true or not, I cannot say, but the report went that by one blow of his fist he flattened a thunderbolt, and kept it in his pocket in the shape of a pancake to show to all his enemies when they were about to fight him. Undoubtedly, he had been given every giant in Ireland a considerable beating, barring Finn Magul himself. And he swore that he would never rest night or day, winter or summer, till he could serve Finn with the same sauce. If he could catch him. Finn, however, had a strong disinclination to meet a giant who could make a young earthquake or flatten a thunderbolt when he was angry, so accordingly he kept dodging about from place to place, not much to his credit as a Trojan, to be sure. Whenever he happened to get to the hard word that Farua was on the scent of him. And the long and the short of it was that he heard Farua was coming to the causeway to have some trial of strength with him, and he was naturally enough seized the consequence with a very warm and sudden fit of affection for his wife, who was delicate in her health, poor woman, and leading besides a very lonely and comfortable life of it in his absence. God save all here, said Finn, good humoredly putting his honest face in his own door. Moshe Finn Avikan, you're welcome to your own Una, you darling bully. Here followed a smack that it was said to have made the waters of the lake curl, as it were, with kindness and sympathy. Faith, said Finn, beautifully, and how are you, Una? And how did you sport your figure during my absence? I Billberry. Never a merrier, as bouncy and a grass widow as ever there was in a sweet Tyrone among the bushes. Finn gave a short, good humored cough and laughed most heartedly to show her how much he was delighted that he had made herself happy in his absence. And what brought you home so soon, Finn? she said. Why, a Voronin, said Finn, putting in his answer in the proper way, never the thing but the purest of love and affection for you. Sure, you know that's the truth. Anyhow, Una. Finn spent two or three happy days with Una and felt himself very comfortable considering the dread he had of Far Rua. This, however, grew upon him so much that his wife could not but perceive something lay on his mind, which he kept altogether to himself. Let a woman alone in the meantime, for frettering or wheedling a secret out of her good man when she wishes. Finn was proof of this. It's this Farua, he said, that's troubling me. When this fellow gets angry and begins to stamp, he'll shake you a whole town land, and it's well known that he can stop a thunderbolt, for he always carries one about with him in the shape of a pancake to show anyone that might misdoubt it. As he spoke he clapped his thumb in his mouth, as he always did when he wanted to prophecy or know anything. He's comin', said Finn. I see him at Dunganon. Ah, who is it, Avik? Farua, replied Finn. And how to manage, I don't know. If I run away, I am disgraced, and I know that sooner or later I must meet him, for my thumb tells me so. When will he be here? says she. Tomorrow, about two o'clock, replied Finn, with a groan. Don't be cast down. Depend on me, and maybe I'll bring you out of this scrape better than ever you could have bring yourself. This quieted Finn's heart very much, for he knew that Una was hand in glove with the fairies. And indeed, to tell the truth, she was supposed to be a fairy herself. If she was, however, she must have been a kind-hearted one, for by all accounts she never did anything but good in the neighborhood. Now, it so happened that Una had a sister named Gruna living opposite to them, on the very top of Kilomore, which I have mentioned already, and this Gruna was quite powerful herself. The beautiful valley that lies between the Grandlases is not more than three or four miles broad, so that of a summer evening, Gruna and Una were able to hold many agreeable conversations across it, from one hilltop to the other. Upon this occasion, Una resolved to consult her sister as to what was best to be done in the difficulty that surrounded them. Gruna, she said, are you home? No, said the other. I'm picking bilberries at the Devil's Glen. Well, said Una, go up to the top of Cullamore, look about you, and tell us what you see. Very well, replied Gruna, after a few minutes. I am there now. What do you see? asked the other. Goodness be about us, exclaimed Gruna. I see the biggest giant that ever was known coming up from Dunganon. Aye, said Una, that's our difficulty. That's Far Rua, and he's coming up now to Leather Finn. What's to be done? I'll call to him, she replied, to come up to Cullimore and refresh himself, and maybe that will give you and Finn time to think of some plan to get yourselves out of the scrape. But she proceeded, I'm short of butter, having in the house only half a dozen furkins, and as I'm to have a few giant and giantesses to spend the evening with me, I'd feel thankful, Una, if you'd throw me up fifteen or sixteen tubs of the largest miskins you've got. And you'll oblige me very much. I'll do that with a heart and a half, replied Una. And indeed, Gruna, I feel myself under great obligations to you for your kindness into keeping him off us till we see what can be done. For what would become of all of us if anything happened to Finn, poor man? She accordingly got the largest pan of butter she had, which might be about the weight of a couple of dozen millstones, so that you can easily judge of its size. And calling up to her sister, Grona, she says, Are you ready? I'm going to throw you up the butter, so be prepared to catch it. I will, said the other. A good throw now and take care of that does not fall short. Una threw it, but in consequence of her anxiety about Finn Farua, she forgot to say the charm that was to send it up, so that instead of reaching Cullomore, as she expected it, it fell about halfway between the two hills at the edge of the broadbog near Augur. My curse upon you, she exclaimed, you have disgraced me. I now change you into a grey stone. Lie there as a testimony of what has happened, and may evil betide the first living man that will ever attempt to move or injure you. And sure enough, there it lies to this day, with the mark of the forefingers and thumb imprinted on it, exactly as it came out of her hand. Never mind, said Gruna. I must only do the best I can with Farua. If all fail, I'll give him a cast of heather broth or a panda of oak bark. But above all things, think of some plan to get Finn out of this scrape he's in, or he's a lost man. You know you used to be sharp and ready-witted, and in my opinion is, Una, that it will go hard with you, or you'll outdo Farua yet. She then made a high smoke on the top of the hill, after which she put her finger in her mouth and gave three whistles. By that Farua knew that he was invited to the top of Cullomore. For this was the way that the Irish long ago gave a sign to all strangers and travelers to let them know they are welcome to come and take share of whatever was going. In the meantime, Finn was very melancholy and did not know what to do or how to act at all. Farua was an ugly customer, no doubt, to meet with, and moreover, the idea of the confounded cake Aforesaid flattened the very heart within him. What chance could he have, strong and brave as he was, with a man who could, when put in a passion, walk the country into earthquakes and knock thunderbolts into pancakes? The thing was impossible, and Finn knew not on what hand to turn him. Right or left, backward or forward, where to go he could form no guess whatever. Una, he said, can you do anything for me? Where's all your invention? Am I to be skivered like a rabbit before your eyes, and to have my name disgraced forever in the sight of all my tribe, and me the best man among them? How am I to fight this man mountain, this huge cross between an earthquake and a thunderbolt, with a pancake in his pocket, that was once Be easy, Finn, replied Una. Troth, I'm ashamed of you. Keep your toe in your pump, will ya? Talking of pancakes, maybe we'll give him as good as he brings with him, thunderbolts or otherwise. If I don't treat him to as smart feeding as he's got this many a day, don't trust Una again. Leave him to me and I do just as I bid you. This relieved Finn very much, for after all, he had a great confidence with his wife, knowing as he did, that she had got him out of many a quandary before. The present, however, was the greatest of all. But still, he began courage to eat his food as usual. Una then drew the nine wooden threads of different colors, which she always did to find out the best way of succeeding in anything of importance she went about. Then she plated them into three plats, with three colors in each, putting one on her right arm, one round her heart, and the third round her right ankle. For then she knew that nothing could fail her, that she undertook. Having everything now prepared, she sent round to the neighbors and borrowed one in twenty iron griddles, which she took and kneaded into the hearts of one in twenty cakes of bread. And these she baked on the fire in the usual way, setting them aside in the cupboard according as they were done. Then she put down a large pot of new milk, which she made into curds and whey, and gave Finn due instructions how to use the curds when Farua should come. Having done this, she sat down, quite contented, waiting for his arrival on the next day about two o'clock, that being the hour at which he was expected. For Finn knew as much by sucking his thumb. Now, this was a curious property that Finn's thumb had, but notwithstanding all the wisdom and logic he used to suck out of it, it could never have stood to him here were it not for the wit of his wife. In this very thing, moreover, he was very much resembled by this great foe Farua, for it was well known that the huge strength that he possessed all lay in the middle finger of his right hand, and that if he happened to by any chance to lose it, he was no more, notwithstanding his bulk, than a common man. At length the next day he was seen coming across the valley, and Una knew it was time to commence operations. She immediately made the cradle and desired Finn to lie down in it and cover himself up with the clothes. You must pass for your own child, she said. So just lie there, snug and say nothing, but be guided by me. This, to be sure, was wormwood to Finn. I mean going into the cradle in such a cowardly manner? But he knew Una very well, and finding that he had nothing else for it, with a very rueful face, he gathered himself into it and lay snug, as she had desired him. About two o'clock, as he had been expected, Farua came in. God save all here, he said. Is this where the great Finn McCool lives? Indeed it is, honest man, replied Una. God save you kindly. Won't you be sitting? Thank you, ma'am, he says, sitting down. You're Mrs. McCool, I suppose. I am, she says. And I have no reason, I hope, to be ashamed of my husband. No, said the other. He has the name of being the strongest and bravest man in Ireland. But for all of that, there's a man not far from you that's very anxious of taking a shake with him. Is he at home? Why no, then, she replied. And if ever a man left in a fury he did. It appears that someone told him of a big boosin of a giant called Farua being down at the causeway to look for him, and so he set out there to try to see if he could catch him. Trot, I hope, for the poor giant's sake, he won't meet with him. For if he does, Finn will make paste of him at once. I am Farua, and I've been seeking him these twelve mints. He has always kept clear of me, and I will never rest a day or night until I lay my hands on him. At this, Una set up a loud laugh of great contempt, by the way, and looked at him as if he were only a mere handful of a man. Did you ever see Finn? she said, changing her manner all at once. How could I? he said. He always took care to keep his distance. I thought so, she replied. I judged as much, and if you take my advice, you poor looking creature, you pray night and day that you may never see him, for I tell you it will be a black day for when you do. But in the meantime, you perceive that the wind's on the door, and as Finn himself is far from home, maybe you'll be civil enough to turn the house, for it is always what Finn does when he's here. This was a startler, even to Farua. But he got up, however, and after putting the middle finger of his right hand until it cracked three times, he went outside, and getting his arms around the house, he completely turned it as she had wished. When Finn saw this, he felt a certain description of moisture, which shall be nameless, oozing out of every pore of his skin. But Una, depending upon her woman's wit, felt not a whit daunted. As you are so civil, maybe you would do another obliging turn for us, as Finn's not here to do it himself. You see, after this long stretch of dry weather we've had, we feel very badly off for the want of water. Now, Finn says there's a spine spraying well somewhere under the rocks behind the hill there below, and it was his intention to pull them asunder. But having heard of you, he left the place in such a fury that he never thought of it. Now, if you try to find it, Troth, I feel that kindness. She then brought Farua down to see the place, which was then all one solid rock, and after looking at it for some time, he cracked his right middle finger nine times and stooping down toward the cleft to 400 feet deep and a quarter of a mile in length, which has since been christened by the name of Lumford's Glen. This feat nearly threw Una off her guard. But what won't a woman's sagacity and presence of mind accomplish? You'll now come in, said she, and eat a bit of such a humble fare as we can give. Finn, even though you and he were enemies, would scorn not to treat you kindly in his own house, and indeed, if I didn't do it even in his absence, he would not be pleased with me. She accordingly brought him in and placing half a dozen cakes we spoke of before him, together with a can or a two of butter, a side of boiled bacon, and a stack of cabbage, she desired him to help himself, for this, be it known, was long before the invention of potatoes. Farua, who, by the way, was a glutton as well as a hero, put one of the cakes in his mouth to take a large whack out of it. When both Finn and Una were stunned with the noise that resembled something of a growl and a yell, blood and fury, he shouted, How is this? Here are two of my teeth out. What kind of bread is this you give me? What's the matter? said Una coolly. Matter, shouted the other. Why, here are two of my best teeth and my head gone. Why, she said, that's Finn's bread, the only bread he ever eats when he's home. But indeed I forgot to tell you that nobody can eat it but himself and that child in the cradle there. I thought, however, that you were reported to be rather a stout little fellow of your size, you might be able to manage it. But I did not wish to affront a man that thinks himself able to fight Finn. Here's another cake. Maybe it's not so hard as that. Far Rua at the moment was not only hungry but ravenous, so he accordingly made a fresh set at the second cake, and immediately another yell was heard twice as loud as the first. Thundering Giblets, he roared, take your bread out of this, or I will not have a tooth in my head. Here's another pair of them gone. Well, honest man, replied Una, if you're not able to eat the bread say so quietly, and don't be awakening the child in the cradle there. There now, he's awake upon me. Finn now gave a scroll that frightened the giant, as coming from such a youngster as he was represented to be. Mother, I'm hungry. Give me something to eat. Una went over and putting into his hand a cake that had no griddle in it, Finn, whose appetite in the meantime was sharpened by what he was going forward, soon made it disappear. Faruo was thunderstruck, and secretly thanked his stars that he had the good fortune to miss meeting Finn, for, as he said to himself, I'd have no chance with a man who could eat such bread as that, which even his son that's in the cradle can munch before my eyes. I'd like to take a glimpse of that lad in the cradle, he said to Una, for I can tell you that the infant who can manage the nutriment is no joke to look at or to feed a scarce summer. With all the veins in my heart, replied Una, get up, Ushka, and show this decent little man something that won't be unworthy of your father, Finnokool. Finn, who was dressed for the occasion as much like a boy as possible, got up, bringing Faruha out. Are you strong? he said. Thundering out, exclaimed the other. What a voice and so small a chap. Are you strong? said Finn again. Are you able to squeeze water out of that white stone? Yes, putting one into Faruha's hand. The latter squeezed and squeezed the stone, but to no purpose. He might pull the rocks from the Lumford's gland asunder and flatten a thunderbolt, but to squeeze water out of a white stone was beyond his strength. Finn eyed him with great contempt, as he began straining and squeezing and squeezing and straining till he got black in the face with the efforts. Ah, you poor creature, said Finn. You a giant. Give me the stone here, and when I'll show what Finn's little son can do, you may then judge of what my daddy himself is. Finn then took the stone and then slyly exchanging it for the curds, he squeezed the ladder out until the way as clear as water oozed out in a little shower from his hand. I'll now go in, he said, to my cradle, for I scorn to lose my time with anyone that's not able to eat my daddy's bread or squeeze water out of a stone. Be dead, and you had better be off of this before he comes back, for if he catches you in his flimmery, he'd have you in two minutes. Farua, seeing what he had seen, was at the same opinion himself, his knees knocked together with terror of Finn's return, and he accordingly hastened to bid Una farewell, and to assure her from that day out he never wished to hear of, much less to see her husband. I admit fairly that I am no match for him, he said. Strong as I am, tell him I will avoid him as I would the plague, and I will make myself scarce in this part of the country while I live. Finn in the meantime had gone into the cradle where he lay very quietly, his heart in his mouth with the delight that Farua was about to take his departure without discovering the tricks that had been played off on him. It is well for you, said Uno, that he does not happen to be here, for it's nothing but hawk's meat he'd make of you. I know that, said Farua. Devil a thing else he'd make of me. But before I go, will you let me feel what kind of teeth they are that can eat griddle cakes like that? And he pointed to it as he spoke. With all the pleasures of my life, she says, only that they're far back in his head, so you must put your finger a good way in. Farua was surprised to find so powerful a set of grinders in one so young. But he was still much more so on finding when he took his hand from Finn's mouth that he had left the very finger upon which his whole strength depended behind him. He gave one loud groan and fell down once with terror and weakness. This was all Finn wanted, who now knew that his most powerful and bitterest enemy was completely at his mercy. He instantly started out of the cradle, and in a few minutes the great Farua, that was for such a length of time the terror of him and all of his followers was no more. Thanks for listening, and have a happy St. Patrick's Day.
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