The Celtic Myths That Shape the Way We Think - Mark Williams

Published in 2021 by Thames and Hudson, New York, NY

304 pages

ISBN: 978-0-500-25236-9

       In my first semester of graduate school, as I was perusing the course catalog, I stumbled across a class in the Department of Celtic Languages and Literatures titled “Celtic Mythology.” I had always been interested in the subject but never truly delved too deeply into the material, so I signed up for the class. In the course, I was introduced to the wonderfully wild and weird world of Irish and Welsh mythology. We studied the warrior of the Ulster Cycle, Cú Chulainn, and his frightful transformations during the Táin, delved into the exploits of Finn mac Cumaill (Finn McCool) and his legendary band of warriors, the Fianna, and studied the strangest dimensions of Cath Maige Tuired (“The Battle of Mag Tuired”). Additionally, we read through the Pedair Cainc Y Mabinogi (The Four Branches of the Mabinogi) to see how the Welsh literary tradition developed over time. 

       Completely fascinated with the strangeness of these tales, I enrolled in another Celtic course in the spring semester, titled “Food and Fantasy in Irish Tradition,’ where we engaged with the Irish literary tradition through the lens of the production, consumption, and symbolic function of food. Analyzing tales such as Scéla Muicce Meicc Da Thó (“The Tale about Mac Dathó’s Pig”), Aislinge Meic Con Glinne (“The Vision of Mac Conglinne”), and Togail Bruidne Dá Derga (“The Destruction of Da Derga's Hostel”), we closely examined the cultural and literary function of food and feasting within the medieval Irish context. This course allowed me to study these tales with a much more critical lens, examining how they reflected the medieval world in which they were written. 

       Through these courses, I became incredibly fascinated by the weird and foreign contexts of these tales, as they often do not make sense to the modern reader. A product of the aristocratic medieval mind, these tales often take strange and dark turns (I’m looking at you, Branwen and Math) that continue to befuddle scholars and inspire writers and artists across generations. From the reappropriation of Cú Chulainn as an Irish nationalist hero in the 20th century to the myriad depictions of King Arthur in film and television, Celtic myths continue to fascinate and draw our minds to the misty, enchanted world of a bygone era. But do these stories reflect the society and values of a pre-Christian Ireland? In his 2021 book, The Celtic Myths That Shape the Way We Think, Mark Williams offers a comprehensive exploration of Celtic mythology and its enduring influence on modern culture. Williams, an associate professor of global medieval literature at the University of Oxford, examines how these ancient stories were constructed by medieval authors and how they have been continuously reinterpreted and reimagined over centuries.

Overview

       Focusing on ten mythical figures from the Celtic literary tradition, Williams recounts their content, explains how they were almost certainly constructed by medieval authors, and explores their lasting influence throughout the centuries in contemporary fantasy. Along the way, he illustrates how some of the most deeply embedded stories and rituals in Celtic literature were reinterpreted and gradually transformed from their original form. By doing so, he shows how Celtic literature still profoundly influences contemporary culture, especially within the fantasy genre. 

       Williams recounts the origins of various Celtic figures from mythology and literature, including King Arthur, Merlin, Blodeuwedd, Cú Chulainn, and Finn mac Cumaill (Finn McCool). He details how each of these figures has been received and transformed in a multitude of ways over the centuries, such as the Welsh King Arthur becoming a symbol for English nationalism, Merlin’s ability to populate a wide range of literature, Fin McCool’s influence on Napoleon Bonaparte, the beautiful, beflowered Blodeuwedd’s role as a poetic muse, even to W.B. Yeats in the 20th century, or the Ulster warrior Cú Chulainn’s lionization as both a figure for Irish nationalism and a defender of Ulster. 

       Williams contextualizes these Irish and Welsh myths, reminding audiences that these stories were primarily written for medieval aristocratic audiences. Rather than providing a window into a distant, pre-Christian Irish past, these myths often reflect the cultural, religious, and socio-economic values of their medieval writers, who were overwhelmingly landowning Christian aristocrats and clergy. Williams emphasizes how medieval clerical intelligentsia reshaped supposedly primal myths in order to downplay their pagan elements and make them more palatable for a Christian readership. 

       For example, pagan gods and goddesses were often transformed into fairies to "decontaminate" them and make them more acceptable to Christian audiences. Additionally, connections were often drawn between Irish mythical heroes, Christian figures, and Greek sources, such as comparing Cú Chulainn’s and Christ’s death or the parallels between Rome’s and Britain’s foundational myths. As such, Williams challenges and debunks many popular notions about the antiquity of "Celtic" traditions, showing that several are relatively recent inventions, as he writes, “what we call ‘Celtic mythology’ is not a pure substance handed down from the pagan past, but a rich amalgam that developed over centuries” (213). 

       Although these stories are the product of the medieval mind, this does not dull their impact on the popular imagination. Williams unpacks how, even if they are not a clear window into the pagan past, these stories have fueled countless interpretations and have inspired writers, artists, filmmakers, and alternative religious communities across the centuries. These stories, in their innate wildness and strangeness, are open to a proliferation of meanings, and have impacted popular culture in myriad ways. 

Commendations:

       Williams's work has many notable strengths. First, Williams does an excellent job of making complex Celtic myths and ideas accessible to a broader audience. His clear, engaging writing makes the book approachable for readers without extensive academic backgrounds in Celtic studies or mythology. Williams divides each chapter according to a different mythical figure, exploring the context of their origin and their subsequent interpretations over the centuries. Rather than focusing strictly on the chronological or historical elements, his thematic exploration of Celtic myths allows for a deep dive into the symbols, metaphors, and reception of these mythical figures. As such, each chapter can be read wholly independently from other chapters, making this work perfect for assigning to students in the humanities.

       This accessibility is further bolstered by Williams’s exploration of how ancient Celtic myths continue to shape contemporary thought. Williams connects classical ancient themes such as life, death, heroism, and our relationship to nature with modern psychological, philosophical, and cultural concepts, utilizing interdisciplinary methods to illuminate how these myths remain influential today. This helps readers appreciate the timeless quality of the stories and the universal themes they convey that various groups have utilized through the years. This makes the book not only a study of myths themselves but also an exploration of their continuing relevance and how we are continually shaped by new reimaginings of old tales. Additionally, the book includes a collection of beautiful full-color images throughout and a pronunciation guide in the back, which help to paint a more vivid picture and bring the ancient stories to life for the general reader. 

       Furthermore, I deeply appreciated Williams’s commitment to scholarship while still keeping the book accessible to the general reader. As I learned in my Celtic classes, while these tales have vague roots in ancient culture, they are ultimately a product of the medieval world and written for a medieval audience. Williams cogently dismantles the notion that what we consider Irish myths are not rooted in an ancient oral tradition that was passed down across generations (such as ancient Greek, Hindu, and Scandinavian myths). Rather, they are a fragmented collection of relatively late writings, as Williams reiterates, “We must remember that these stories are not myths, though there is definite myth in them: they are medieval tales, written in medieval Irish for a medieval audience” (252). Primarily written by aristocrats and clergy, the stories we have today were often filtered through the lens of Christian theology, which should always be kept in mind. Williams continually points the reader back to this fundamental tenet, demystifying our common notions of ancient Irish literature and reminding us of the paucity of sources that exist. 

       Williams reminds us that these stories were not written by esoteric druids or ancient Celts, as they preserved their history and traditions through the art of storytelling. Rather, most of what we think we know about the Celtic peoples (itself a contentious category) is the product of the medieval Christian mind and the subsequent reinterpretation of these stories, particularly in the Victorian era. While Williams debunks many of these common misconceptions of the ancient Celtic world, he is never condescending towards those who have misunderstood or misappropriated these tales. Indeed, one of the reasons I fell in love with Celtic literature is because it is so incredibly weird and difficult to understand. Williams embraces the odd, fragmented, and fascinating nature of these stories, and he finds inherent value in them, even if they aren’t representative of an authentic ancient Celtic literary or oral tradition.  

Critique:

       On the other hand, there are a few weaknesses to this work that are worth noting. First of all, while the book’s approachability is a major strength, it sometimes leads to the oversimplification of complex, multilayered myths. Certain nuances and contradictions within these myths might be glossed over in the pursuit of making them more relatable to modern audiences. For instance, the rich and diverse regional variations within Celtic mythology (from Irish to Welsh to Scottish traditions) are often treated in a more generalized way under the umbrella of “Celtic” (in itself a contentious category), which could be seen as a limitation for a scholarly audience seeking a more detailed analysis of the traditions in their specific contexts.

       Furthermore, the main focus of Williams’s analysis is on the development of these stories and how they impact culture today. As such, from a scholarly standpoint, one notable weakness is the book’s limited engagement with the original historical and cultural context of the Celtic myths. While Williams does an admirable job of showing the modern influence of Celtic mythology, some scholars may feel that the book places too much emphasis on how these myths speak to contemporary ideas rather than exploring them in their original cultural and religious contexts. I would have loved to read more about how these stories functioned in their original context of the Middle Ages and not just their modern-day interpretations.

       Finally, one more small issue arose toward the end of the book. In his discussion of Patrick Pearse (1879-1916), a fervid Irish nationalist and one of the leaders of the Easter Rising, Williams seems to imply that Pearse’s predilection for his students to dress up as Fin McCool to display Irish pride was inherently linked to his homosexuality. He writes, “It seems likely that Pearse’s own homosexuality undergirded all this enthusiasm, albeit in a rather sublimated way: it is possible that he himself did not realize that his florid appreciation of the boys had a sexual dimension until friends drew it to his attention and told him to calm down” (201-202). 

       I must admit, I was a bit shocked and puzzled when I read that sentence. At first glance, it seems strange to depict Patrick Pearse’s homosexuality as morally deviant and to imply that he was attracted to young boys. Upon further research, I found that Pearse’s sexual orientation and its connection to his eccentric behavior has been debated and contested. Without this further context, however, Williams’s offhand comment comes across as far too flippant and dismissive. Now, when placed in the context of the rest of the book, it seems like this comment was not intended to be malicious, yet it does still seemingly come out of nowhere. I think that this could have been caught by another pass by the editor, who could have advised Williams to revise and rephrase this section to dispel any notion of homophobic attitudes, or at least address the contested scholarship that surrounds this claim.

Conclusion

       Overall, The Celtic Myths That Shape the Way We Think is a fantastic introduction to Celtic Mythology and how these myths have continued to influence contemporary media. While some scholars might wish for more in-depth engagement with the function of these stories within their own time as opposed to the present, this book is a fantastic entry into the world of Celtic Studies. By carefully analyzing the sources and contexts of Celtic myths, Williams provides a nuanced understanding of how these stories evolved over time, and how the original authors blended ancient elements with medieval literary and religious influences. He dispels many of the common assumptions that are often made regarding the origin of these myths while still maintaining an immense respect for them and how they continue to have a cultural impact in the present. Williams manages to cover a broad topic with conciseness and an appropriate level of nuance, while never oversimplifying or getting too lost in the weeds. As such this work is incredibly valuable, especially for a general audience, and I can easily recommend it as an accessible and relatively fun read for both undergraduate students and anyone with a passing interest in Celtic Mythology.