Wednesday 2 March 2016

Of Hares and Unicorns: folklore and myth

The hare (Lepus europaeus) appears in English folklore in the saying "as mad as a March hare". 
Here we are on the second day of March having just enjoyed the gift of an extra day in this 'leap' year.   The legend of the White Hare tells of a witch who takes the form of a white hare and goes out
looking for prey at night, or of the spirit of a broken-hearted maiden who cannot rest and who haunts her unfaithful lover.  The mythical Unicorn is white too.  It is a legendary animal of European
folklore, often depicted as a white horse-like or goat-like animal with a long horn and cloven hooves and sometimes a goat's beard - but not lady unicorns surely?  In the Middle Ages and Renaissance it was commonly described as an extremely wild woodland creature, a symbol of purity and grace, which could only be captured by a virgin. In encyclopedias you will read that its horn was said to have the power to render poisoned water potable and to heal sickness. In Medieval and Renaissance times, the tusk of the narwhal was sometimes sold as unicorn horn.

Why all this hares and unicorns?  As it happens I have just read two delightful books; the one recommended by a new bookish friend who came to lunch at The Old Workshop with other village friends who are keen readers.  The other is my choice to fulfil a category on my reading challenge.

'Hare' by Jim Crumley is one in the series Encounters in the Wild, where the author writes of memorable experiences as a quiet bystander at the margin of a place where he can observe the animal's activity and behaviour.   Hares, golden-brown in colour with a pale belly and white tail, spend most of their day nestling in a patch of grass, known as a form, and is most active at night.  When they are disturbed, they can shift..... up to 45 mph.  Jim Crumley's Encounter series is written as short monographs on individual species; companion books include Fox, Barn Owl and Swan.  They are pretty and bijou, very much books to have and to hold. 

'I Believe in Unicorns' by Michael Morpurgo is my choice to fulfil the 'Middle Grade' category on my list of challenges.  I disliked this term intensely when I first encountered it, as it implies something mediocre and not quite worthy of the attention of a discriminating reader.  In fact it is part of educational terminology and describes a category of reading suitable for 8-12 year olds before they are ready to tackle Young Adult fiction.

Tomas hates school, hates books and hates stories. Forced to visit the library, he stops to listen to magical tales that the Unicorn Lady spins. These tales draw him in and soon his life will be changed for ever.  The story is set against the backdrop of war-torn Europe, and explores the power of stories to transform lives    Many reviews of this book are united in finding the story enchanting. "It has adult themes of loss and redemption wrapped up in a delightful and safe story for children. Adults will get as much from this book as children - it brought tears to my eyes." writes one reviewer.  Another says " It will make you cry a little or at least get a lump in your throat but a truly brilliant read and one I think everyone should read."  I am absolutely with these reviewers on that one.  It did bring tears to my eyes, happy ones.  I doubt anyone who treasures the joy they find in reading can help but feel emotional as the story draws to a close.

Whilst on the subject of animals......... I complete my reading of The Soul of an Octopus, lent to me by Francis Shaxson at one of our Bookish Lunches.  The Author Sy Montgomery offers a unique window into octopus behaviour and intelligence through eloquent and vivid descriptions — both science-based and emotional — of her extended encounters with octopuses while going behind the scenes at Boston's New England Aquarium and diving in Polynesian waters. 
The aptly-named giant Pacific octopus Octavia comes alive in the book (as do other octopuses) with a unique personality that responds to Montgomery in poignant ways.  Wild-caught in British Columbia and transported to the aquarium by Federal Express, Octavia is the octopus Montgomery comes to know best. On one occasion, Octavia and Montgomery hold on to each other for one hour and fifteen minutes, in an instance of tactile pleasure felt in an apparently mutual way by octopus and woman. 'I stroked her head,' Montgomery reports, 'her arms, her webbing, absorbed in her presence. She seemed equally attentive to me.'
Montgomery watches Octavia with added excitement when she lays eggs — thousands of them, like 'tiny seed pearls on black string.' 'Mottled with dark patches, Octavia is radiantly beautiful', writes Montgomery, 'the very picture of a healthy octopus and a diligent mother. She fluffs the clusters of eggs nearest the window with one arm, like a mom sitting on a park bench might jiggle a baby buggy.' The eggs, though, will never hatch; they are inert, infertile, sending no signs of life back to their caretaker. Never having had the opportunity to mate with a male, Octavia will not experience the evanescence of octopus motherhood shortly before death in the way that wild female octopuses do."
So three very different animals, two from the real world and the third from the surreal world of fantastical beasts.  But the octopus has been the subject of many mythological stories over the years, one of the best known being that of The Kraken, legendary sea monsters of giant proportions said to dwell off the coasts of Norway and Greenalnd and usually portrayed in art as a giant octopus attacking ships.

No comments:

Post a Comment