Month: February 2024

Petrified. A maiden, raped in the Temple of Athena by the God Poseidon. Cursed by the Goddess as if the crime were hers. You cannot look her in the eye. Medusa. Serpent-haired terror. Even after death, to look upon that face was enough to turn any into stone.

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Great Perseus then: With me you shall prevail, 

Worth the relation, to relate a tale. 

Medusa once had charms; to gain her love 

A rival crowd of envious lovers strove. 

They, who have seen her, own, they ne’er did trace 

More moving features in a sweeter face. 

Yet above all, her length of hair, they own, 

In golden ringlets wav’d, and graceful shone. 

Her Neptune saw, and with such beauties fir’d, 

Resolv’d to compass, what his soul desir’d. 

In chaste Minerva’s fane, he, lustful, stay’d, 

And seiz’d, and rifled the young, blushing maid. 

The bashful Goddess turn’d her eyes away, 

Nor durst such bold impurity survey; 

But on the ravish’d virgin vengeance takes, 

Her shining hair is chang’d to hissing snakes. 

These in her Aegis Pallas joys to bear, 

The hissing snakes her foes more sure ensnare, 

Than they did lovers once, when shining hair. 

The above is Ovid’s account of how Medusa came to be transformed into a serpent-haired creature we all know today, taken from his Metamorphoses, Book the Fourth. In Ovid’s version (first published in 8 CE), it is the new, Roman God Neptune who attacks the young maiden, rather than his older Greek equivalent Posideon, and the Goddess Minerva rather than Athena who takes it upon herself to curse the victim, rather than the perpetrator. 

Medusa (meaning “guardian” or “protectress“) was one of three siblings; the Gorgons, whose name translates as “grim” or “dreadful“. Daughters of the primordial sea God and Goddess, Phorcys and Ceto, the sisters were born in the caverns beneath Mount Olympus. In the oldest legends the Gorgons were monstrous from birth — chimeric creatures with wings, boars tusks, bronze clawed hands, and yes, snakes for hair — but, as the myth evolved, so did the relationship between the sisters.  

Medusa was the youngest of the three, Euryale (whose name meant “far-roaming“) was the middle sister, and Stheno (whose name meant “forceful“) the eldest. Not only was Medusa the last to be born, but she was also born mortal, which only made her sisters all the more protective of her. Medusa having been raped by the Sea God, and then cursed by the Goddess of Wisdom and Weaving, her sisters naturally stood up for her, and so they too were cursed and transformed. Snakes for hair, and eyes which would turn any who looked into them to stone. 

Perseus, son of Zeus, was tricked into promising to bring back the head of Medusa as a gift for King Polydectes, ruler of the island of Seriphos, who wished to wed his mother. Aided by the Goddess Athena (evidently still not yet satisfied with the level of suffering she had caused Medusa and her sisters), and his father,  Perseus set out on an epic quest to behead the youngest Gorgon. Using a highly polished shield as a mirror, Perseus was able to look up Medusa without turning to stone. Like a coward, he struck while she slept. From the body of the Gorgon sprang forth Pegasus (“he who sprang“) and Chrysaor (“sword of gold“) – chimeric children, and proof of Posiedon’s rape of Medusa. 

Hearing of their sister’s murder, Euryale and Stheno pursued her killer, but Perseus escaped their wrath using a magical helmet of invisibility. Medusa’s eyes retained their petrifying power even after death, and Perseus wielded her severed head as a weapon, turning all manner of beings to stone. Not least King Polydectes, who in Perseus’ absence had raped his mother. 

I’ve made a couple of tentative steps in putting the fokllore thursday strips on Redbubble, here:  https://www.redbubble.com/people/pjholden/

As time wears on I’ll be putting them ALL on, but if you have any favourites let me know.

They’ll stay on redbubble well… probably forever but I’ll be looking for other venues for getting prints done so if redbubble doesn’t suit you, let me know where does – or, if you have a specific strip you love that you want available on redbubble and if it’s not there I’ll prioritise adding it!

Right now, I’ve uploaded the Boudicca strip (a very early popular strip) the recent Hensbane (because I thought it was kind of pretty), Vrillon (which made me laugh) and today’s strip of Bakekujira.

UK playground food folklore:

Green crisps are poisonous.

Eat apple or orange pips, and a tree will start to grow inside you.

Blue Smarties make you hyperactive.

Swallow gum and it will stay in your guts for two months, maybe even wrapping itself around an organ.

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Everyone knows it’s true. Passed down from class to class, from year to year; the cold hard facts about the perils of what lurks in your lunchbox, or what you’ve managed to sneak into your pockets for playtime. 

Green crisps are poisonous, eat them and you will die! Or, at least, end up with a belly-ache.

The reason some crisps end up with a green edge isn’t mold or fungus, it’s actually because the potato which they’ve been made out of hasn’t been properly “earthed up”. Parts of the spud exposed to sunlight as they grow turn green because of chlorophyll in the plant. Chlorophyll can contain a chemical for solanine, which is the same toxin produced by deadly nightshade, BUT you would have to eat a whole family pack of entirely green crisps before you felt any real ill effects. 

Spit out the pips when you’re eating an apple or orange, or else you’ll end up with a tree growing inside you.

Obviously, you won’t, but it is worth noting that there have been cases where people have been found to have fir trees and peas growing in their lungs! Apple seeds, if chewed produce (a tiny amount of) hydrogen cyanide, which starts to become risky if you eat an awful lot of them. We’re talking like five or more apple’s worth, consumed in a single sitting for a child though. Orange pips are harmless and actually pretty good for you, but if you chew them they taste very, very bitter. 

Blue Smarties were banned for a time because they contained a colouring agent which was found to cause hyperactivity in children who ate them. 

Blue Smarties (first introduced in 1988) disappeared from packs between early 2006 until mid-2008, being replaced with white ones. Why? Because in 2006 manufacturer Nestlé decided to remove all artificial colouring from the sweets. The problem was, even though they found a way to replicate all the other colours using natural alternatives, they couldn’t get the blue right. They cracked it in 2008 though, and since then blue Smarties get their colour from a seaweed called Spirulina. Before 2006, blue Smarties were coloured with a synthetic dye called Brilliant Blue FCF (also known as E133) which, although not proven to cause hyperactivity, does have the capacity for inducing allergic reactions in some people, especially asthmatics. 

Swallow chewing-gum or bubble-gum, and it will sit in your stomach or intestines for weeks, months, maybe even years. Even worse, the sticky, stretchy stuff might just wrap itself around some of your internal organs while it’s in there.

Why shouldn’t you swallow gum? Because it’s made to be chewed over and over and to not break down in the process of chewing. So, it’s a choking hazard. Obviously. Gum is also nigh-on impossible to digest, but that doesn’t mean it will just sit in your stomach or guts indefinitely. Much like sweetcorn, gum (in most cases) will make an all but intact reappearance next time the consumer visits the toilet. That said, swallow a lot of gum over a long period, and you are (understandably) going to get a bit clogged up…

Folklore is about stories told and re-told, exaggerated, embellished, and improved upon by generation after generation but, as the above illustrates, there is always a kernel of truth in even the simplest and silliest sounding tale. 

So, we have plans for year two, and hopefully you’ll all join us. 

But I don’t want year one to pass without some sort of special event. 

We’re about 11 weeks from the end, which seems like forever, but then it didn’t feel like that long ago since we started this!

What I’d like to do is send a sketch to the top five patreons contributors through the year (ie those that have donated the most) as well as two random subscribers  (so if you’re very keen to get a sketch, you could up your subscription or wait on the fickle hand of fate!)

Once we get to the final year, I’ll get in touch and let you know if you’re one of those people, and you can tell me your favourite Folklore tale and I’ll do a sketch from it (most of the tales are digital, so no real art exists).

Drawings will be A5, and sent out in a board back piece of paper. 

Thanks for coming with us, and we hope you’ll stick through past the first year! 

Jack in the Green – the Green Man personified via a disguise of ivy and leaves – features in many folklore festivals across the UK. No Jack’ is more striking though than the floral Garland King, who rides a shire-horse into the village of Castleton, Derbyshire.

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May is an important month in the British folklore calendar, falling  as it does midway between spring equinox and summer solstice. It is the  month when the rising sap reaches its culmination; buds become blooms,  lambs are in the field, and chicks are in the nest. The Old English name  for the month was Þrimilci-mōnaþ (“month of three milkings”)  while the modern name is thought by some to derive from the  pre-Christian goddess Maia to whom a pregnant sow would be ritually  sacrificed on the first of the month. Associations with fertility and  with plenty are abundantly clear in both cases.

Although many surviving customs such as the crowning of May Queens  (young women picked for their beauty and virtue to act as May  personified for the day), dancing around the Maypole (a relic of  pre-historic dendrolatry, or phallic pagan fertility symbol, depending  on who you ask/believe), and so on, chiefly take place on May Day there  are many varied traditions spread throughout the month.

Jack in the Green makes an appearance in many May festivals. Although the custom of dressing “Jack” in leaves and flowers, set into a large wicker frame which he wears seems to date from the 18th century, many folklorists have argued for more ancient origins.

In Castleton, Derbyshire (www.castleton.co.uk) May the 29th is Garland King  Day. The Garland King rides a cart-horse wearing a large wooden frame  completely covered in flowers and greenery so that only his legs are  visible. At the apex of the King’s floral finery is fixed a posy of  especially fine flowers and this is known as the Queen. Following the  King is a second Queen, on horseback like himself. Up until 1956 the  Queen (or ‘the Woman’ as she was then) was always a man in female dress.  The Garland King leads a procession which makes its way through the  village, via the six public houses (naturally), into the churchyard.  There the great garland is hoisted up on ropes to the top of the church  tower, and the Queen posy is laid at the foot of the village War  Memorial. 

This is the strip that started it all. I’d been casting around for something to draw between work, and I saw a tweet John had posted about a Church close to him, and it was such a poetic little tweet it felt like I could adapt it in to comic form without doing too much heavy lifting. 

It was so much fun to just take the tweet, split it up and visualise it. I’m not sure how John would have written it as a script, but certainly this is how I felt it would work. 

After I did that, and it took very little time, I asked John if he’d like to do some more, and we talked about a few options (him writing one tweet length short stories, was one idea) but then I think John suggested the folklore thursday that he was already tweeting about, and LO! like a bolt from the blue, that seemed like the obvious answer. I’d get to write and draw a new comic every week, playing with the form as best as I was able, sometimes pushing the story telling and somethings just illustrating something. I think I did the first one colour and I’d planned on going b&w but it didn’t take too much effort to go colour on every single story. (And even limiting the colour became a fun visual play thing).

I hope, once we’re a full year into the whole strip-per-week we can look for a publisher (or possibly go kickstarter).

My ideal is a large format, hardback with a strip per page, and on the opposite side the tweet and a short essay by John on each subject. Giving us a gorgeous big coffee table style book, perfect for folklore lovers.

Anyway, that’s the hope. 

Normal service should resume next week. Stay safe everyone! (And stay in doors as best as you’re able!)

No folklore thursday this week From me. We lost my father-in-law today. He’d been seriously ill for over a year (and had spent much of it in hospital). He went home and eventually back in to hospital a week Or so ago. original complain was pancreatitis and then stomach problems and then, finally, we discovered he also had advanced lung cancer.

Nothing coved-19 related, but it did rob us of some Of the dignity of visiting him in hospital, and meant his grandkids couldn’t see him in those final days.

My kids are heartbroken, as is my wife.

I never did ask him If I could marry his daughter (though by that stage we’d been living together 8-9 years already) and he was fond of mentioning that fact.

Anyway, I wrote and drew this comic strip about my mum, who I lost 16 years ago (15 at the time of drawing the strip). Enough people have commented about this strip and how it resonates with them that I think it’s worth posting up here.

Annette’s dad gave her away at the wedding, I’m pretty sure it was one of the best days of his life,

Gandreið is yet another Old Norse term often interpreted as “Witches’ Ride”. The word gandr seems to have had several meanings including “hound” and “gander”. Greylag geese are sometimes known as Heaven Hounds – their cries sounding like a pack of baying hounds. 

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The Wild Hunt (Wilde Jagd, in the original German) is a term popularised by the folklorist Jacob Grimm in his 1835 work Deutsche Mythologie. There are many variations of the Wild Hunt, dating back centuries and varying according to their location, but all share certain characteristics: On certain nights, a supernatural party travels noisily through the air, hunting for unwary humans. In many stories an uncanny a pack of hunting hounds or wolves accompanies the party.

The Wild Hunt has been led by many: Diana, Goddess of the Moon and of hunting; Odin, Father of the Slain; Herne the Hunter;  the Queen of Elfland; King Arthur, the Devil himself… the list goes on and on. The hunt has also had many, many names including Odensjakt (“Odin’s Hunt”), Oskoreia (“Terrifying Ride”), and Gandreið.

Although Gandreið is often interpreted as meaning “Witches’ Ride“, the Old Norse word gandr actually seems to have had several meanings, including “stick” or “staff”, “wolf”, “hound”,  “swift horse” and “gander”, as in a male goose. (It is worth nothing that word gandr survives today in Scandinavian languages, meaning a “magical gust of wind”). Witches, of course, were known to ride all of these things through the sky on their way to their Black Sabbats. What, even geese? Yes, geese.

Mother Goose, the Fairy Tale figure popularised by Grimm’s French competitor Charles Perrault, was depicted as a pointy-hatted, staff carrying witch-figure from the early 19th century (at least), and as the rhyme tells us:

“Old Mother Goose,
When she used to wander,
Would ride through the air,
On a very fine gander.”

Greylag geese – the larger, wild ancestors of the domestic European goose – are, in certain places, nicknamed Heaven Hounds, or Gabriel’s Hounds – names they share with some British Black Dogs of folklore and legend. The cries of Greylag geese in flight are said to sound like a pack of baying hounds and, as the birds migrate to and from different parts of Europe at the turn of the season, their calls are only heard at certain times of year. 

[This mini essay is basically a chunk that I cut out of my forthcoming piece on The Wild Hunt, which will appear in Hellebore #2 (pre-order at https://helleborezine.bigcartel.com/product/hellebore-2 ), because I realised I was going off at a bit of a tangent about geese]

If you like, you might enjoy colouring this one in! (Or if you know some young kids who might similarly enjoy it!)

First of all let me start off by saying sorry. I haven’t been able to find the time to post any articles for a few weeks now, for fairly obvious reasons. I will 100% do my best to get back on top of this but, with three kids at home, and deadlines looming, I will probably miss more over the next few weeks. So, apologies in advance. 

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Rabbits don’t lay eggs. But Hares do. At least, you might be forgiven for thinking they do. Hares make overground nests to raise their young in. Lapwings nest on the ground at the same time and [in] the same areas. A nest of eggs one day, a nest of leverets the next.  

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As the Easter  weekend draws close, children and adults alike anticipating a chocolate  egg binge, the internet is alive with articles on the “true” origins of  Easter.

Over the last seven or so years the author, journalist and self described “pagan sceptic” Adrian Bott  has written a series of detailed pieces discussing the myths and  misconceptions surrounding the links between the pagan Eostre/Eostur and  Christian Easter (this year’s is actually entitled The case for Eostre, part 1: The Eostur Sacrifice). There’s an interview with Adrian on the subject recently posted on patheos.com that’s well worth a read and includes links to many of his previous Easter/Eostre pieces.

While I am by no means any kind of an expert in the writings of Bede  or the religious festivals and beliefs of pre-Christian Britain, I feel  there may be some tiny thing I can contribute here. There is one aspect  of this whole debate that, so far as I can see, seems to have been  largely overlooked (perhaps wilfully so on account of there being a fair  bit of conjecture involved). That is that rabbits, or rather hares  (which probably don’t have any provable connection to Eostre) do lay  eggs. Or at least, according to some, they were once believed to do so.

Hares  do not raise their leverets below ground as rabbits do their kittens,  rather they build little shallow nests for them among the grass. These  nests are called forms and look remarkably like the nest of lapwings and  other ground level nesting birds. In the spring (around the time of  Easter) in certain parts of Britain, it is possible to find forms filled  with tiny baby hares pretty much directly alongside nests containing  beautifully speckled and patterned bird’s eggs.

So, there’s a theory that someone long ago – some say it was European  invaders who had never seen hares before – saw a hare tending its young  in a form having previously seen eggs in a very similar looking nest in  more or less the same location and came to the conclusion that hares  (or rabbits as they might have thought them to be) do, in fact, lay  eggs.

That kind of makes sense. Where’s the proof though? Well, beyond the  fact that it does sort of make sense, there doesn’t seem to be very  much. There are a couple of blogs on BBC Wales from seven years or so ago that mention the idea, there’s a post on docudharma.com  from around the same time talking about Eostre/Easter and dropping in  the hare’s egg idea. And that, so far as my somewhat hasty searching has  found, seems to be about it.

So, am I merely muddying the waters of the already seemingly overly  complex issue of the “true” origins of Easter and its associated myths?  Quite possibly, yeah. It’s all good fun though, eh? Pass the Cadbury’s  Mini Eggs, please.