Sunday 30 September 2007

A Creation Myth

In the beginning the whole world was water, liquid yet still. Below the silent water lay solid rock, earth’s centre, and above the smooth surface of the water lay the air, unmoving. Above the surface of the resting air lay the motionless stars. The whole world waited, lifeless.
Then from his home in the bottomless deeps the lordly whale rose up; Balengorion rose up from his birthplace in the deep and his black back split the shimmering surface, and he blew.
So for the first time the air began to move, drifted here and there by that first breath of life. Then Balengorion curved down again to the dark depths, but as he curved away his tail rose up high above the silent surface and with one stroke of his mighty flukes a wave became. So for the first time the water began to move, driven back and forth by that first stroke of life.
Beneath the rocking waters and the whispering air the whale lay, and the dark of the deeps was no more than the dark of the air above, for there was no light in the world. Then the whale began to sing. Balengorion’s song is a mystery for he sang no words, but as he sang, in answer to his song, so for the first time the Star began to rise, called up into the sky by that first song of life.
In the wonder of that light the seas began to spawn. Swarming life filled the waters, swelled by the power of the new Day Star. First the tiniest specks of living things appeared, then the krill to feed the whale. And the whale still sang and the Day Star shone and the sea creatures grew, and the sea was the womb of all the world.
Out of that womb swam a second star. It was the moon who tore herself free from the solid depths below the waters to swing in the night sky searching for the light. Night after night she curves across the sky in the track of the Day Star. But she has no will to stand beside that light. Her shores are all dead things and in her yearning she calls the earth to join her search. By day and night the land she left tilts at her bidding and in the caves she deserted lie the captive seas.
Out of this catastrophe was all land born, when the seas fled back to fill the empty chasm where once the moon had lain. Since that time we of the sea are ever subjugated to the imperious land.
Yet the Day Star’s light continued to bless sea and land alike, and on the land creatures began to crawl. And the whale still sang and the Day Star shone.
On the dry land began Man to appear, solid and earth born, longing for a sea season; Man the Avenger, aggressive and angry. In the ranks of Man grew Parsid, Protector. At the hand of Man he saw the world perishing; he saw pain and persecution.
Parsid walked on the shore in deep thought; his was the time of decision, of midsummer venturing and the time to know himself. In his mind troubles lay thick as smelt in the sea.
Parsid waited, surrendered to the Day Light. He waited for a silence to show him the way. Then from the deeps he heard the song of Balengorion. The song of the whale was calling him, catching at him, never to return:
‘Come to the deeps, Sire of the Sea Folk, come to the open wave, to the moon tide and the star time. Come with your daughters to the cool wide sea where peace and possession is waiting for you.’
Parsid heard the song and gladly deserted the world of men. Happily he left the earth whose stones had become too hard for him. Parsid, Sire of the Sea Folk, led his family into the waves. So he gave us our freedom: to be the people of the sea.

**********

Monday 24 September 2007

The Merman of Orford

Is it possible that the Great Silkie of Sule Skerrie is not merely a legend? Is it silkies that the following historic documents are describing?

The earliest sighting of a silkie, at Orford in Suffolk, England, was reported by the chronicler Ralph of Coggeshall in his Chronicum Anglicanum of 1207. He tells how fishermen caught a wild man in their nets off the coast of Suffolk, and showed him to their lord, Sir Bartholomew de Glanville, Constable of the castle of Orford during the reign of Henry II:
‘He was naked and was like a man in all his members. He was covered in hair and had a long shaggy beard. The knight kept him in custody many days and nights, lest he should return to the sea. He eagerly ate whatever was brought to him, whether raw or cooked, but the raw he pressed between his hands until all the juice was expelled. Whether he would not or could not, he did not talk, although oft times hung up by his feet and harshly tortured. Brought into the church, he showed no signs of reverence or belief…. He sought his bed at sunset and always remained there until sunrise.
‘It happened that once they brought him to the harbour and suffered him to go into the sea, strongly guarding him with three lines of nets; but he dived under the nets out into the deep sea, and came up again and again as if in derision of the spectators on the shore. After thus playing about for a long while, he came back of his own free will. But later on, being negligently guarded, he secretly fled back to the sea and was never afterward seen.’

**********