TallStoriesandFishyTails

Spiritual Humour

Tall Stories and Fishy Tails

Mermaids... Now call me old fashioned, but I am not into women smelling of fish; and a nice pair of legs is finer to look at than two big floppy fins. Nevertheless, years ago local men were supposedly bewitched by these creatures, lured into the sea, and drowned.
       However, do men really find a lady who whiffs of kippers attractive? I suspect these men only looked at the top-half and were so impressed they ignored the bottom-half. I have heard the expression,
'looking like the back end of a bus', but never, 'she had the back end of a bass!'
       It is interesting how myths are passed on from generation to generation. At every turn, Cornwall conjures up images of its ancient past. West Cornwall, in particular, is littered with numerous sites. Stone circles, standing stones, holy wells (still in use), burial mounds and celtic settlements abound. Many ley-lines criss-cross this part of the county and each site has its own story or legend to tell. Many a 'green man' can be found in Cornish churches and Zennor church has a famous carving of a mermaid in the building, dating back hundreds of years.
       I enjoy living in a place where legends and folklore are part of the social fabric. Druids are alive and well here. Cornwall still holds its Gorsedd, where hundreds of druids meet and choose their bard, or leader, for the year.

Am I starting to see a pattern here? Buxom women luring innocent men into the sea and maidens tricking ugly blokes with large feet and little brains to their deaths... tough women, these Cornish.
The story is re-enacted every year, in a cove near the village of St Agnes on Bolster Day; a huge effigy of Bolster emerges slowly over the cliffs. He stands around fourteen feet high and takes four people to control him. A big bushy beard of moss, and wild hair of bracken, add to the wild man image. He appears over the horizon to the sound of a Celtic drumming band, before coming to his sticky end - as he falls, children run down the hillside streaming yards of red ribbon, to represent Bolsters lifeblood draining away.
Hundreds of local people watch this event.

This month Nick Richardson shares some local legends from his Celtic homeland of
Cornwall

Big even by today's standards - in days gone by this man would truly have been considered a giant, especially as the average height of a Cornishman in those days was only 2'4". They used to live in pasties, not eat them.
Therefore, over the years the factual story of a big bloke becomes embellished and passes into legend. So who will be the next to claim their place in Cornish folklore? My own village has a contender, a man with a hugely impressive and particularly voluptuous red beard. It resembles a six-pint nosebleed. It is so bushy a family of puffins nest in it. He frequently backcombs it and goes to fancy dress parties as Chewbacca from Star Wars. I know it's not much but it's all we have. I wonder what stories will be told of him in 400 years time?

Must close now as Trevor, my pet unicorn needs his walk...

The Pagan isn't very far under the surface of People in this region

This occurs at the beginning of May, which is, of course, the Celtic festival of Beltaine. On the night before Bolsters big day, a procession of lanterns winds it way through the dusk to the top of the Beacon, where a huge bonfire is lit. People turn out in droves and climb the hillside in the dark to celebrate next to the roaring flames. The pagan isn't very far under the surface of people in this region.
Giants abound in Cornish folklore Another is supposed to live on St Michaels Mount. Interestingly, when excavations were carried out on the island, the remains of a 7ft skeleton were uncovered.

FIRE ON THE BEACON - ST AGNES, CORNWALL

Our own local legend is the story of Giant Bolster. An ogre so large and fearsome, he would make Shrek look like Julian Clarey. Apparently, he was so tall, he could stand with one foot on St Agnes Beacon and another on Carn Brea; two local hills, five miles apart (the rumour that he then relieved himself on the village I inhabit, between these two points, is as yet unproven).
Bolster supposedly fell in love with the beautiful maiden Saint Agnes. To prove his love she persuaded him to fill up a hole on the cliff-side with his blood. He did this willingly; not knowing the pit was bottomless, and bled to death.