Show Your Face, My Dearest Wifey

I must say that I was absolutely enchanted with this folklore character and its (her?) story, as it seemed to me sophisticated and poetic.

The first thing I would like to point out is that the story of pig-faced women originated roughly simultaneously in Holland, England and France in the late 1630s. (The heroine had the body of a woman and the head of a pig, in case that is not clear. In addition, she would also be wealthy.)

The initial explanation of the damsel’s weird appearance was found in the fact that she was a witch before marriage (and probably after too), so her punishment was that she had to be either pig-like to her husband and normal to others or vice versa. the choice was the husband's, as she was only to throw herself on his mercy. But this love-is-blindness thing had another tricky point: were the husband to reject his right to choose in her own favour, the enchantement would dissipate.

What I want to add is that the recorded versions show considerable relish for the macabre details of the pig-faced women’s appearance and for the details of her family life.

However, whatever the story is, magic abandons it sooner or later, and so it happened with the legendary tale.

First, in the early 19^th century, the story turned into a rumour-like folklore anecdote. Whenever people faced a woman who was not fond of appearing at the social events was the reason to spread such gossip. That was the way the existence of pig-faced women began to be treated as fact. 

Where this fairly common belief also found its reflection was fairs, where showmen exhibited living "pig-faced women". Moreover, these were not even women in masks but shaven bears dressed in women's clothing. (Oh my God, our life today is boring indeed.) I bet the sight was spectacular enough to lead the crowd by the nose and promote spreading the folklore gossip.

It is not necessary to say that today the legend is almost forgotten.

Wiki were apparently as interested in the story as I was, so you may enjoy a lot of information here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pig-faced_women

Freshly Caught Cornish Pixies

subject clauses are in bold, predicative ones are underlined

In this post I am going to discover pixies, though my reasonable expectation is that everybody reading this post is more or less familiar with those mischievous little creatures. It is as though the generation(s) of Harry Potter must remember the episode featuring Harry’s meeting these magical jerks.

 Well, for starters, what is needed to be said is what the pixies are. They are mythical creatures of folklore, believed to be short and attractively childlike guys who are extremely fond of dancing, wrestling, making a fuss and other activities involving energy and mischievousness as those are their most prominent characteristics. Where the pixies stories were particularly popular is the high moorland areas around Devon and Cornwall, what suggests a possible Celtic origin. Thanks to Disney and modern animation we can often see them with pointed ears and wearing a pointed hat, as well as a green outfit, although traditional folk tales describe them wearing dirty rags who is always eager to get a piece of clothing as a gist. (Dobby!)

Another interesting fact about pixies is that they maintain deep long-running feud with fairies. In some areas some tribe was believed to have won and to be ‘reigning’.

What seems absolutely fascinating about any folklore tales is that they may seem creepy but in fact are so characteristic of people and metaphorical. For instance, there were lots of homely beliefs filled with the accounts of pixies naughty behavior at home. Still, their image was never frightening. (It is most understandable that people tend to be extremmely reluctunt to inhabit their lodgings with really creepy things. Let Jenny live in a bog.) 

Pixies were also belived to be helpful from time to time, helping needy widows and others with housework. They also involved children into their merry playing and dancing. Nevertheless, like any other folklore form, they have their dark side: a reputation for misleading travellers (the remedy for being ‘pixy-led’ is to turn your coat inside out, just like in some Slavonic beliefs).

If we try and imagine the world of the medieval peasantry, we can see it was densely inhabited not only by humans but also by vague forces representing phenomena that were unfamiliar. Either it was productive or ruining was of no importance, whatever it was didn’t matter – it must have had a name, so people made up piles of folklore material we now may address seeking for inspiration J

Stay Away From Water, Kids

Our today’s guest is Jenny Greenteeth, another figure from English folklore. Wiki defines Jenny as a river hag, similar to Peg Powler or a grindylow, who would stretch out her long arms, catch children or the weak, drag them to her, pull them into the water and drown them. 

The general term hag, which applies to the three creatures mentioned, appeared in Middle English, and was a shortening of hægtesse, an Old English term for witch. Hag is an old woman, a kind of fairy or goddess, rather malevolent, often found in folklore and children's tales. Many stories about hags seem to have been used to frighten children into being good. (By the way, Baba Yaga also belongs to this company.)

Let us start with Jenny Geenteeth. She was usually described as green-skinned, with long hair, and sharp teeth (try and guess of what colour). At night she would also lurk in the treetops, looking for a victim. She is called Jinny Greenteeth in Lancashire (where she was probably originating from), but in Cheshire and Shropshire she is called Ginny Greenteeth, Jeannie Greenteeth, Wicked Jenny, or Peg o' Nell. 

Jenny is also associated with pondweed or duckweed, which can cover the surface of water, making it misleading and potentially dangerous, especially to kids. Some people just called pondweed so.

Another interesting passage showing the variety of folklore-inspired tales is that I found in A Dictionary of English Folklore by Jacqueline Simpson: ‘A Lancashire contributor to N&Q recalled: ‘Further, I have often been told by my mother and nurse that if I did not keep my teeth clean I should some day be dragged into one of these ponds by Jenny Greenteeth, and I have met many elderly people who have had the same threat applied to them.’

A very similar creature is Grindylow (the name may be connected to Grendel). Like Jenny Greenteeth, Grindylows were beleived to grab little children with their long sinewy arms, again, if they were careless enough to walk near the water’s edge, and drown them. 

These creatures, Grindylows, appear in the Harry Potter books and films. If you don’t happen to be a HP fan, just look at the picture right here.

The third creature of the river-hags list is the Peg Powler, who is very similar to Jenny, and has only three special things about her: she was believed to live in the river Tees, tended to hunt on Sundays, and had a soft spot for those who walked barefoot, kicking their heels on the bank, pulling and drowning them so that the pondweed closed over them, leaving not the shadow of a shadow on the surface…

Now that I’ve read so much about them, I’ll think twice before putting my foot (especially bare) into any river water. On Sunday.

Are You Afraid of Fear?

Halloween coming soon, I believe it is logical that I should pick out something… terrifying! Nevertheless, I opt to hold in store revenants, Jenny Greenteeth and other guys from it-will-eat-your-liver company, so I suggest that we begin with a more civilized and sophisticated creature called boggart.

No doubt, it would be surprising if the folk had been unanimous in their definition of any folklore creature or phenomena. This is what A Dictionary of English Folklore says about the boggart:

boggart. In the dialects of northern counties, ‘boggart’ was a general term for any supernatural being which frightened people, whether indoors or out, without specifying whether it is ghost, malicious fairy, or minor demon. [2]

bogeyman, bogey, bogy, bogie; bogle, boggle (rather Scottish). Any real or imaginary figure used by adults as a threat to coerce children into good behaviour is a bogeyman—often the final function of a belief that adults no longer share. [2]

I wish there had been survived more written records of folklore creaturs that could have provided us with more detailed description of the boggart, but it is always like this with all the things people know well – they do not go into detail. Were we to try and look for the boggart’s description, we would also see that the recorded folklore of boggarts is remarkably varied.

Many are described as relatively human-like, though ugly and often with bestial attributes. Other accounts give a complete beast-like form. I suggest that we look at but one description so that your imagination be boosted enough: ‘The "Boggart of Longar Hede" from Yorkshire was said to be a fearsome creature the size of a calf, with long shaggy hair and eyes like saucers. It trailed a long chain after itself, which made a noise like the baying of hounds.’ Suffice it to say that though descriptions of their appearance and behaviour differ from one tale to the next, shape-changing is a standard feature. [2]

In some tales, the boggart is attatched to a particular house or family, like a brownie, but as a nuisance rather than a helper. Other tales say that it might have been a helper once, quite respected by the family, but nothing is over until the fat lady sings, and you had to fear lest it be upset, as once it was angry with you or given a wide berth, and not honoured enough, or thought it was ill-treated, then it would turn into a beserk creature, kind of a warped brownie who would hate you and try to lead you a merry dance with its mischivous behaviour and genuinely frightening tricks.

Still, it was believed that house boggarts should be more tolerant and less cruel, which is not the case with land ones. The household form causes mischief and things to disappear, milk to sour, animals to behave strangely. Land boggarts, inhabiting marshes or holes in the ground, were considered capable of more serious evil doings, such as the abduction of children.

In Northern England, by the way, people believed that the boggart should never be named, for when the boggart was given a name, it would not be reasoned with nor persuaded, but would become uncontrollable and destructive.

There are also some similar humorous stories involving boggarts. ‘The most frequent anecdote on this theme is a humorous  one, found in several collections from northern counties, and also in Lincolnshire and Shropshire. It tells how a farmer was so pestered by the tricks of a boggart that he and his family decided to move house, much against their will; as they set out, a neighbour asked if they really were leaving. ‘Yes, we’re moving,’ said the farmer. ‘Yes indeed,’ came the boggart’s voice from among the piled-up furniture, ‘we’re all moving.’ So the farmer turned the cart round and went home, saying if they were to be tormented anyway, they’d do better to stay in their own old house.’

Perhaps, people wouldn’t have made up funny stories and jokes about the thing they really dreaded, or, on the contrary, it could be the way human consciousness react to scary things and concepts, turning them into humour. 
Anyway, we could put the legend to good use, stopping to think about the shape a boggart would take before us: what is it and why?

References

1.      https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boggart

2.      A Dictionary of English Folklore by Jacqueline Simpson, Steve Roud, Oxford University Press

3.      Traditions, Superstitions, and Folk-Lore by Charles Hardwich, 1872

I have created this blog as I have got interested in English folklore. Probably, it’s not going to be well-structured, but I intend to make it entertaining and more or less laconic so as to get at least some insight into English folklore.

Having managed to prevent myself from writing pointless wordy introductions about folklore, I will but recommend googling V. Y. Propp (Morphology of the tale, 1928; Historical Roots of the wonder tale, 1946), who wrote about Russian folklore, but whose works are very easy to read and, in fact, help you understand how it works in general.