Fairies, Pookas, and Changelings: A Complete Guide to the Wild and Wicked Enchanted Realm

Introduction

The Woods Are Lovely, Dark, and Deep

If you are usually a fearful person who likes to barricade your door and hunker beneath the bedclothes each night, worried about what might rattle the locks or slip through the cracks, you should not undertake to read the book that follows this introduction. Many of the stories in this book harken back to a different era: one without the niceties of today. A time when most homes did not have electricity, when candlelight failed to chase away all the night shadows, horses were the main mode of transport, and the fairies and goblins of olde still roamed the earth in large numbers. Today, we can leave a night-light on or we can listen to the soothing sounds of ocean waves on our iPods to lull us to sleep. We fear burglars or worse; our nightly news is more terrifying than some gentle old tale. Or is it? If you think fairies are merely delicate beings that follow you about on gossamer wings, you are in for quite a shock: the Kingdom of the Fairy is one of vengeance, thievery, trickery, and wild creatures who wish nothing more than to steal your child, drown you in the bog, or spoil your best Sunday shoes. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. You have been warned.

Before we head deeper into the shadowy forests and craggy caves of the Fairy Kingdom, I should begin by explaining what I am referring to when I say fairy. The Irish or Gaelic word for fairy is sidheóg or sidhe (shee). The bean-sidh (bahn-shee) is a wild and fearsome member of the fairy kingdom signified by her mourning-like wail, but can also refer to any female fairy spirit, and daoine sidhe (deenee-shee) can be any fairy creature. The Dutch, German, and French words are all similar: fée. In Russian, the phonetic translation is feya, and in Italian or Latin it's fata, all of which give root to the modern word for fairy, faerie, and fae. They are known as the good people, the little people, the wee folk. Around the world there are terms for magical beings who dwell in a land not far, far away, but rather one that coexists or overlaps with our regular world. Fairyland. It can be accessed on purpose by witches and seers, on accident by drunken fools, and without effort by children. Fairies can be called upon to help as they can be implored to bring harm. Their trickery is legendary and perhaps this is the origin of the phrase, Be careful what you wish for.

Within the domain of fairies one might find all manner of loathsome, fearsome, or irresistibly naughty beings. They love to test human nature. Hobgoblins, sprites, bogeys, pixies, changelings, pookas, goblins, bonga, duende, and elves all dwell in the Kingdom of the Fairy.

They creep about at crossroads, they hide beneath leaves. They are the twig-snap behind you on a walk in a moonlit forest, the rattle at the window that you only hope is just the wind.

They creep about at crossroads, they hide beneath leaves. They are the twig-snap behind you on a walk in a moonlit forest, the rattle at the window that you only hope is just the wind.

They are seen with a drunken eye and with a sober nod, a fit of laughter and a scream of terror. The hobgoblin will clean your house for a saucer of milk, but the banshee will destroy every cup and saucer in your cupboard with a vengeance stronger than a hurricane.

William Butler Yeats classified Irish fairies into two types: solitary and sociable. Among the sociable were the merrow (merfolk) and the Sheoques who live and haunt the sacred thorn bushes and green raths. The solitary list is much longer, and includes the leprechaun, pooka, and banshee, among others.

In this book I attempt to explore just some of the different kinds of fairies. Yea, though I've slept many a night near a fairy mound and cavorted with creatures great and small, I by no means purport to be the authority on all the tenants of Fairyland. In my travels, far and wide, peering under rocks and jumping at shadows, I've learned one thing for certain: no matter your breadth of knowledge or preparedness, when entering the realm of the fairy there are always—always—surprises.

The pursuit of the fae is a difficult quest to end. In truth, it never ends.

The scholar, the poet, and the magician alike can spend a lifetime seeking out these magical creatures and proof of their existence, only to be thwarted by the breaking of the dawn.

Just as the ghost hunter seeks to catch something on film, to bring home evidence of a haunting, so too the fairy seeker wishes to prove they are not mad because they keep hearing voices in the garden. And yet, the true knowledge comes at a price, perhaps too dear for some.

The scholar, the poet, and the magician alike can spend a lifetime seeking out these magical creatures and proof of their existence, only to be thwarted by the breaking of the dawn.

As William Butler Yeats wrote in the introduction to his Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry:

The old women are most learned, but will not so readily be got to talk, for the fairies are very secretive, and much resent being talked of; and are there not many stories of old women who were nearly pinched into their graves or numbed with fairy blasts?

Remember too that in the rural parts of England and Wales, as well as Ireland, the people were not so removed from what now are thought to be mere stories. Though cynicism was setting in (you can detect notes of it throughout Yeats's works), many people lived their daily lives with a certain understanding and appreciation of the other realms. So these stories straddle the world of the invisible and the visible, the known and the unknown.

The feverish search that overtakes the fairy seeker can be viewed as a gift from the fae themselves. The lines between real and imagined, visible and invisible (lines that many of you must know are already threadbare for the likes of me) become worn away. This is the trick of the fairy, the enticements and enchantments. The bewitching. You lose yourself, you lose track of time. And while I do not wish you sleepless nights, a-huntin' through the forests of the north, it is my hope that by reading this book you will be transported, if only for a few minutes, to another realm. That you will become lost among the stories and give in to the grand question of what if? That you will chuckle, perhaps cringe, and, surely, at least once, shiver.

If, however, you find yourself scoffing in disbelief with every page, I can only suggest this: watch your back, for you are being watched. Be careful how much you drink, measure your steps home carefully, and always walk fast at night. Walk quickly over streams and double-bolt your doors. Because even the turn of the page is an invitation to believe, and from there you have no choice but to run.

VARLA VENTURA

THE NORTH WOODS, 2016

Chapter 1

A Fear of Little Men

Elves, Trolls, Leprechauns, Tree Spirits, Brownies, Coblyns, Dwarves, Goblins, Bonga, Trolls, and Other Fairy Folk of Glen, Forests, and Hearth

When hunting in the morning dawn

Or through the dead of night

Be careful of the winding path

That is lit by fairy light

—Cameron Bumberford, A Hunter's Paradise

Once upon a time, goblins, brownies, and elves were as common in a household as a bar of soap or a scrub bucket. While few families set out to lure these domestic fairy folk (they saved their trapping skills for the leprechaun and his infamous golden store), most accepted their presence (or at least blamed the good people for messes, missing objects, and crying babies) and the unwritten rules that went along with housing such a creature. Leave a dish of milk out, sweep your own hearth, don't lock the cupboards up. The world of the domestic fairy was the most common to overlap with that of the mortal. Today we are more likely to blame ghosts than we are fairy folk. And yet who among us has not lost a sock or a watch, a favorite earring or important document, sure that it had been put away for safekeeping? And yet we never point to fairies as the culprits. Instead we blame our own busyness, or absentmindedness, or habit of housecleaning while drunk. I ask you this: can you say for certain that when you wake up in the morning everything is exactly as you left it? Nothing is out of place? I think it is reasonable to assume that many of us do not do a thorough inspection of our homes the night before (if you are in this habit, please text me your number because my house wants for ordering). So if something is slightly awry in the morning, we may not notice it, in particular if we have children in the home. This, my dear ones, is how it begins. A penknife here, a dollar bill there, and that oh-so-mild feeling of being watched. But do not fear too much. As you read on, you will hopefully find the information that follows not only entertaining but useful, should things suddenly (or gradually) begin to go amiss in your household.

When it comes to the woodland dwellers, the range of fairy personalities is bipolar at best. From reclusive and angry to taunting and tricky, even among the different classes of fairies variety seems to be the one consistency. With the exception of the rather solitary leprechaun, some elves, pixies, gnomes, dwarves, goblins, and the like seem to almost crave human attention. Other folkish imps wish nothing more than to banish all humans from ever crossing their paths, or to destroy our happiness, or trap us to a life of servitude, or create mayhem and, as a result, possible death.

Should you walk through fairylight (twilight) on a midsummer's eve, humming quietly to yourself as the frogs croon and the bats venture out, you just might meet some of the fellows in this chapter.

Should you walk through fairylight (twilight) on a midsummer's eve, humming quietly to yourself as the frogs croon and the bats venture out, you just might meet some of the fellows in this chapter.

From hedgerow to hearth to mushroomy glen, venture on and into the sylvan world of the fairy.

Elves

Just as there are dozens of variations on the word fairy, there are just as many beings called elves. In some stories, the terms are used interchangeably, and pixies get into the mix to boot. Perhaps this is because, no matter how many volumes of folklore we comb through, no matter how many fairy songs we think we hear on a Midsummer's Eve, fairy folk are far too difficult to classify with any absolute categories. What is a pixie in one part of the world may be a forest spirit in another; an elf becomes more goblinish when described by a certain old timer who recounts days of youthful encounters.

Still, it is common enough to imagine elves, thanks to our widespread belief in one Santa Claus, as helpful little fellows, not much higher than a grown man's knee, that know all manner of cunning ways and talents. In some places, Santa Claus himself is considered an elf or magical being. Today's elf wears striped socks and does a silly dance, or watches over your kids to make sure they are good in the days leading up to Christmas (occasionally in the form of a stalkerish doll). Most accounts agree that bands of elves usually have a king and queen, always at least an Elf King.

Ellyllon is the term used throughout Wales for smallish elves who hang out in groves and valleys. The ellyllon pal around with English elves, too. Both types are described as both angelic and devilish, helpful and mischievous. They dine on toadstools or other poisonous mushrooms and ymenyn tylwyth teg, aka fairy butter, aka a kind of butter-like fungus that grows deep in the crevices of limestone. The Welsh variety wear foxglove flowers as their own gloves. Foxglove, or digitalis, is a powerful and toxic plant that has been used as a sedative for many years (someone should have alerted Joey Ramone). It is used in modern medicine to treat congestive heart failure. It is not surprising, then, that fungus and foxglove have otherworldly associations (or is it simply that the fae have left their magic in these plants?).

In Scandinavia, especially Sweden, the elves are beautiful and mostly peaceful creatures called Alvheim or sometimes alve, alv, alb, or elbe. In Norway, elves are known as Huldrafolk. They live underground in hilly and rocky areas. Their music is irresistible but always in a minor key and very mournful. In Italy, the Linchetti are nocturnal elves who dislike disorder and cause nightmares to those with messy rooms (Giovanni! Clean your room!). Gianes are Italian forest elves, who can prophesize the future and are adept at weaving.

In Thomas Keightley's 1892 volume, The Fairy Mythology, he shares this story from Denmark lore:

The Danish peasantry give the following account of their Ellefolk or Elve-people. The Elle-people live in the Elle-moors. The appearance of the man is that of an old man with a low-crowned hat on his head; the Elle-woman is young and of a fair and attractive countenance, but behind she is hollow like a dough-trough. Young men should be especially on their guard against her, for it is very difficult to resist her; and she has, moreover, a stringed instrument, which, when she plays on it, quite ravishes their hearts. The man