The Western Gate

Britain’s Folklore Year
Mark Norman
National Trust

I would at the outset recommend ‘Maypoles Martyrs and MAyhem by Quentin Cooper and Paul Sullivan’ for anyone wishing to have a goosey gander at the customs and dates of Britain. That said;-
This, being Folklore, would hopefully leave aside those dates plagiarised by the Christian hordes, which it doesn’t. Which Maypoles, Martyrs doesn’t either . ahem. That said;-
Well what would you expect? We are here in this state because we run away to Scotland, Ireland Cornwall and Wales and let these islands be overrun with a doctrine from the arse-end of the Levant and Promised land. We should have been wary, it took 40 years to wander like an ant enclosed by a ring of fire before our wandering mystics settled. 40 years! it would actually take about 4 and half years at a gentle pace and adequate sleep/rest to walk all the way around the Earth ! Two months across Britain. So when we hear it took them, the patriarchs of our inherited/forced religion, 40 years to travel about 250 miles we must question? What exactly did they waste their time on doing, and why didn’t Jove guide them as the crow flies? Should have been there in a month or so. Apparently it was all penance, aye, we should’ve known not to submit to a religion born on guilt. we did.
Anyway. before this strange religion took over these shores we probably worshipped the symbolism of the Gods and Goddesses of Agriculture and the seasons…
Britain, Folklore, dates and whatnot.
That the year will be divided into four seasons and each season therefore would have has its symbology the ideas of growth, abundance, harvest and then the dread winter is certain.
All religions and songs of the Fae are thus emulations of nature.
In turn we also shift our attention to the waxing and waning of the Moon, and accordingly set our internal clocks by its governance, which moon is current determines where we are in the year, and if we wanted to be particularly crafty and cunning we’d note the horizon where the sun appears in the morning, and where it leaves at dusk, and each day we would witness its shift until it dances backwards again. The tides and its extremities being measured as the Solstices, and the median points~ the equinox -where we see the sun rise due east and set due west. The moons positions would change over the years until repeating every 19 years, thus a full moon on the equinox would fall again on the same equinox in 19 years, or thereabouts, for we’d only see the slight wobble and error and this shift would only be noticeable after our death, and what care would we have then. So there you have it, the wheel of the year.

The National Trust via Mark Norman have put together a mixture of Folky pastimes from rolling cheese to bashing the perimeters of our domain with sticks, trying to capture giggling maidens in an oversized hula-hoop adorned with a dress and head of an horse. Of course. And I could bother you with loads of examples and facts, but the book can do better and its not expensive and it is The National trust… hold on….
they who charge you to see a bunch of Stones in Wiltshire, the cost ironically being to pay for the visitors centre and manned staff that the stones haven’t needed for thousands of years.
I don’t particularly like The National trust, I neither trust them nor do I believe they have the interests of the ‘Nation’ at heart. It is our heritage after all, not so the juicy plunder and blatant rape of another countries wealth and assets by sycophants of royalty. My ancestors never saw the benefits of the booty. But these shores, yes, they belong to us surely? I don’t expect to pay for the heirlooms given me by dead relatives though government seem keen on taxing me such, why should I pay to see the labours of the blood sweat and tears of my ancestors? You can bet you life the administrators and ‘kings’ didn’t lift a finger or bend a back to help…..

The book is an easy read, magazine-esque articles, snippets and little anecdotes. It’s a pleasant read, it make you proud to be part of an island of quirky traditions and odd behaviour. Our little dances and masquerades always had a hint of rebellion, of sarcasm, and yes, praise be the Lords of Misrule.
Can I recommended it? it’s an afternoon’s leisurely read but you’ll cover more ground than the wandering Jews of the desert did in a decade. If you have enough clutter and bending bookshelves I probably wouldn’t say it’s essential, but Book collecting isn’t hoarding. Honest. It’s not like I could say, treat yourself, because it’s a morsel. really.
And then we’re putting coffers into the laps of The National Trust. It’s nearly £30 per adult to stand in a field and gaze at stones, many of which are missing. £30. And there’s no free concessionary teas or cakes, they cost extra, extortionately extra. And you can’t go up to the stones and touch them, that’s not allowed. Just stand behind the rope barrier, shut up and pay up. Nothing is more quirky than this. What can be more eccentric than driving for miles to pay a third of a ton to stand in the bare open wilderness of Wiltshire to look at the remnants of a big stone clock… that no longer works. And just like we did when the Romans appeared waving a horrific symbol of torture in our faces (that they created) , we didn’t fight continuously, just rushed headlong into the wilderness, and eventually kept quiet.
We do however have our little festivals, fetes and parades to keep a smile on our otherwise miserable faces.
It’s a nice little book. Have I told you how much I despise the National trust?

Header Image;-Morris dancers Thames at Richmond : Author Unknown. 1620