Rab Fulton's Blog, page 4

Moth and Butterfly storytelling session - a review

I came away from last week’s Moth and Butterfly session with my head buzzing and sparking with incredible stories about houses turning into fairy swimming pools, buxom underwater rugby players, the tragedy of the French cat detective, and much more. 

The Moth and Butterfly sessions are a mixture of storytelling and improv that take place once a month up the stairs in The Townhouse Bar, Spanish Parade, Galway.  The crew of four  who run the show mix themed true stories with high energy improv and tellings from the audience. 

Stories are supposed to last approximately seven minutes and a little bell is used to keep the pace going. (Though I should say, having told a story myself, that the little bell is not at all intimidating, it’s a fun way of keeping you focused.) 

All the stories from the crew and audience where wonderful, but the highlight of the evening for me was the improve sessions, including one in Irish and English. The crew are to be applauded for their innovative, energetic and above all welcoming contribution to Ireland’s great storytelling tradition. 

Galway Bay Folk Tales - sources

Front cover of 'Galway Bay Folk Tales'. My main intention with my new book Galway Bay Folk Tales was to bring a vividness and immediacy to the stories of the west. 

My aim was to create a collection that honoured and celebrated not only the stories, but also the times and imaginations that formed them as well as the times and imaginations of people living and struggling in Ireland today. In order to do that I needed to not only step into the stories, but to go deeper and endeavour to unearth hidden seams of colour and tone. 

To prepare myself for my journey through the substrata of the tales I looked around for the equipment I would need. It came as no surprise that the necessary machinery took the form of words; spoken words, written words, words in books, articles, websites and news paper clippings. Without all these words written and spoken by men and women, dead and alive and from all corners of Island earth, my book would have been very different. 

The articles, books, essays and websites are listed below. Reading them was a wonderful journey, that often took me to strange times and places. Some of what I read dealt with matters very far from Galway and its stories, but they all helped shape my book, and I owe the authors of them all a huge thank you:

Cantarino, Geraldo, ‘An Island Called Brazil’, History Ireland, Vol. 16, Issue 4 (2008)

Corfield, Richard, Lives of the Planets (New York, 2007)

Cunningham, John, ‘A Town Tormented by the Sea’: Galway, 1790–1914 (Dublin, 2004)

Dennehy, Emer, ‘A Hot Property: The Morphology and Archaeology of the Irish Fulachta Fiadh’, JKAHS, Series 2, Vol. 8 (2008)

Douglas, M.S.V., Smol, J.P., Savelle, J.M. and Blais, J.M., ‘Prehistoric Inuit whalers affected Arctic freshwater ecosystems’, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, Vol. 101, No. 6 (2004) 

Ford, Patrick K., ‘Aspects of the Patrician Legend’, in Ford, Patrick K. (ed.) Celtic Folklore and Christianity (Santa Barbara, 1983)

Galway Arts Festival archives, Hardiman Library, National University of Ireland, Galway: 

Geddes & Grossets, Celtic Mythology (based on text by Charles Squire ) (Lanark, 2000) original text available at sacred texts

Heaney, Marie, Over Nine Waves: A Book of Irish Legends (London, 1994)

Higgins, Jim ‘Mesolithic Finds in Oughterard’

Hood, A.B.E., St. Patrick: His Writings and Muirchu’s life (London, 1978)

Hughes, Harry. Croagh Patrick: A Place of Pilgrimage. A Place of
Beauty (Dublin, 2010)

James, Simon, The Atlantic Celts: Ancient People or Modern Invention? (London, 2000)

Kenny, Tom ‘Some Galway Fires’, Galway Advertiser (24 June 2010)

Kinsella, Thomas, The Táin (Dublin, 1969)

Korff, Anne and O’Connell, Jeff, Kinvara: A Rambler’s Guide  (Galway, 1985)

Kyne, Mary, ‘Orbsen – Ancient name of Lough Corrib’.

McGarry, Patsy, ‘Church stance on abortion and soul of child has varied over time’, The Irish Times (20 November 2012)

McKie, Robin, ‘Enceladus: Home of Alien Lifeforms?’The Observer (29 July 2012)

McLean, Malcolom & Dorgan, Theo (eds), An Leabhar Mòr: The Gaelic Tradition Behind The Book (Gaillmh, 2005)

MacMullen, Ramsay, Changes in the Roman Empire: Essays in the Ordinary (Princeton, 1990)

Mac Niocaill, Gearóid, Ireland before the Vikings (Dublin, 1972)

Mitchell, Stephen, A History of the Later Roman Empire, ad 284–641 (Oxford, 2007)

Montefiore, Simon Sebag, Jerusalem : The Biography  (London, 2011)

Mullal, Erin, ‘Letter from Ireland: Mystery of the Fulacht Fiadh’, Archaeology Magazine, Vol. 65 (2012)

Ó Riordain CSsR, John J., Early Irish Saints (Dublin, 2001)

Rice, Eugene F., Jr, The Foundations of Early Modern Europe, 1460–1559 (London, 1970)

Robinson, Tim, Oileáin Árann: A Companion to the Map of the Aran Islands (Galway, 1996)

Ross, Anne, ‘Ritual and the Druids’, in Green, Miranda J. (ed.)The Celtic World (London, 1995)

Thomson, David, The People of the Sea (Edinburgh, 1998)

Walsh, Paul, Discover Galway (Dublin, 2001)

Wentz, W.Y. Evans, The Fairy-faith in Celtic Countries (New York, 1911).

Westropp, Thomas Johnson, ‘A Study in the Legends of the Connacht Coast, Ireland’, Folklore, Vol. 28, No. 2 (1917) (JSTOR). Online at http://www.jstor.org/stable/1255026

Westropp, Thomas Johnson, Ring-Forts in the Barony of Moyarta, Co. Clare, and Their Legends. Online at www.clarelibrary.ie 

Westropp, Thomas Johnson, County Clare Folk-Tales and Myths. Online at www.clarelibrary.ie

Westropp, Thomas Johnson, ‘A Study in the Legends of the Connacht Coast, Ireland. Part II’, Folklore, Vol. 28, No. 4 (31 December 1917), (JSTOR). Online at http://www.jstor.org/stable/1255489

‘The Warden of Galway (The Execution of Walter Lynch)’,Dublin Penny Journal, Vol. 1, No. 29 (12 January 1833). Online at http://www.jstor.org/stable/30003107

CERN: Accelerating Science

Mebh’s palace rathcrogan 

Rathcrogan 

Knockma 

www.loophead.ie

The Oghil Wedge Tomb (Leaba Dhiarmada agus Ghrainne)
 Oughterard heritage   

‘Public Art in Lawrencetown: Diarmaid and Gráinne’

Inchagoill Island: 

Free online audio recordings of my stories

Audio Story Archive
Here are some recordings from the 'Celtic Tales' 2011 sessions. The recordings were made by audience members on a little MP3. Some of the recordings are very clear, some a little less so. But they are all fun. Enjoy!

The Axe, The Hook & The Long Sharp Knife (19:15)

Toby's Wish (15:00)

Ghost Hurlers(my take on my favourite John B. Keane story 'You're on Next Sunday' ) (18:17)

Little Fishes – Galway Murder Story (21:49)

Little Jim(09:02)

The Old Man and The Mermaid(15:49)

The Gruagach (35:35)

Solway Firth Ghost Story(19:24)

The Blue Bottle(18:54)

The Fog (15:48)

Tale of Terror(16:25)

Havering / Lusmore(13:29)

Three Red Hats (13:29)

Yuck! (03:10)

Dreaming about Marcus Marcus

There's no doubt about it Marcus Marcus is annoyed with me. I left him exactly a year ago with his skull and body being crushed and warped out of shape as he made the journey into another dimension. This is not a kind thing to do to your friends, and Marcus is a friend even if he is one I do not entirely approve of. 

My only excuse is that other commissions came up. To me its a perfectly reasonable excuse - i do have children to feed, whereas Marcus Marcus is so rich he could buy up an entire solar system. I promised him I would be back as soon as possible - I even sketched out the last section of the story - but Marcus Marcus is very insistent he wants me back now finishing what I (or we) had started. This has become problematic especially at night when he sneaks into my bed

As a writer, my dreams are very much part of my creative process. When I sleep ideas and images from the projects I am working on take on forms and narratives in my head. This results in a curious dream life. When I was working on the riskybizzness commission my dreams where filled with witty conversations with imaginary people about the benefits of walking and eating well. When I was preparing Transformation I experienced fantastical (and often terrifying) dreams about goats. With Galway Bay Folk Tales my sleep time was filled with vivid encounters with magical beings and beasts.

But every so often as I slept my dreaming would drift far away into a binary star system, filled with spaceships, fanatics and strange mutant creatures and divinities. This is the realm of Marcus Marcus. Lately the dreams have become more persistent, pushing out all other thoughts. Marcus Marcus is ready for the next part of his story to be told, and will accept no excuses. And whilst I quite happy to get into a fight with real people, over the years I've learned the hard way that it does not pay to get into a fight with a figment of your imagination. They can really wreck your head.

So, I've dusted of the notes for the last section of the story. They're good. Very good, especially the twist at the end. So now its time to flesh it out. The new postings will begin in June.  ( Cue dramatic music...)

Stories and stories

It had to happen sometime, but I figured it would not be for another ten years or so. But last night it happened. For the first time ever the boys did not want me to tell them stories at bedtime. Instead they wanted to tell me their stories. I was a  bit put out with this, but put on a brave face and handed over the blue story chair to the boys.

Dylan went first. At five years of age he is now writing his own stories. He sticks scraps of paper together, carefully writes the title page then draws the rest. These picture drawings are wonderful, mixing real life with big adventures like travelling to the moon, swimming in oceans, walking through forests with wolves in them. So now he sat down with his latest book, opened it up and told the story to his audience of two. What i was particularly taken with was all the little details, like the radio on the astronauts helmet. After a big bula bus Dylan handed over the chair to his brother.

Callum at three don't do writing, but boy can he tell a story. I was at his creche on monday telling tales to the children and whilst all the other children joined in he simply sat watching me very carefully. Now last night he sat on his chair and began his telling. He's always been pretty good with gestures and wild ideas, but suddenly it just all fell into place, a slow steady delivery, with his voice falling in pitch at the scary bits, just the right body movements to indicate walking, swimming, being scared, silly ghosts etc. And even a few jokes thrown in which had his brother roaring with laughter. After a confident, if slightly long telling (he went for a pee half way through) he finished the story with Sin é, got off the chair and clambered into bed.

I was delighted with the boys' stories and sat down in the story chair to contribute to the evening's entertainment, but the lads had had their fun. I was relegated to singing songs.

Afterwards I went down stairs and found I had nothing to do. The final proof of Galway Bay Folk Tales had been sent off in the morning and was going to the printers at the end of the week. I'd also finished putting together four new workshops for teaching storytelling to children. I had time on my hand's but nothing to do. I very rarely watch telly but i decided to try gacking out in front of the idiot box. CSI was on. I watched it, mildly enjoyed it as the body count rose, but was a bit disappointed and confused by the ending which seemed to blame everything on dead squirrel. I think the story was trying to do a big theme thang about the interconnectedness of everything, but I just kept thinking about the Fireman Sam episode when a squirrel set Mandy's house on fire. Perhaps the CSI writers need to hang out with children more...









And here's the wee storytellers in Moycullen on Saint Patrick's day

Death Metal Storytelling

Sometimes the cosmos throws things at my storytelling sessions that can make telling a tale or two just that little bit more challenging. There are enough variables going on in my Cottage Bar sessions as it is. Not only the composition of the audience, my own mood, the weather, but bigger more dramatic events during my show - including close brushes with birth, death and biblical flooding - help to keep things interesting.

This weeks show however threw a new challenge at me. Just as the second half was beginning I noticed the room was getting very dark. A number of the candles had burnt out and I asked the audience if they wanted new ones or perhaps some electric lighting. But everybody liked the gloom, so I took a moment to think what story to tell. I find darkness is a medium that does not favour some types of story but definitely adds to others (like spooky stories or romantic tales).

As I was thinking I lifted my cup to take a sip of tea. Suddenly the most hellish and violent sound erupted all around me. The tea leapt out of the cup and my bones nearly leapt out of my skin. 'Hold on!' I cried to the audience and ran out the room. In the bar the complete absence of any sonic assault left me bewildered; the only sounds were those of relaxed drinking and eating; laughter and the clink of glasses and the rattle of knifes and forks.

I asked Siobhan behind the bar what the sounds in the blue room were, but she looked around the bar and smiled. 'Nobody else can hear anything.'

'I tell you there is the most awful roaring screaming sounds coming into the blue room.'

'And would anybody else hear these sounds or is it just yourself.'

'There is a crowd of people in there, shaking in fear and trauma,' I explained in proper storytelling mode.

'That's nice,' replied Siobhan.'Would they be wanting to order any more drinks?'

'I tell you, the gates of Hell have opened in the blue room.'

But even as I spoke it was clear that not a squeak of the noise in the blue room could be heard anywhere else in the bar. It was - and remains - a mystery but I could not leave the audience for long. I went back into the room. A few more candles had burnt out and the music was if anything louder and insaner. But the audience, from the little I could see of them seemed to be in great form. All smiles, laughter and merriment. 

Who was I to be pissed off when everybody else was having a great time?

I stood up and began the second half. 'Well now seeing as we have the sound track to a 1970s slasher movie, lets say i tell you something dark and nasty.'

Which I did. I pitched my voice so it was just loud enough to be heard above the wailing, thudding, screeching sounds and began the story. And as I told it I found I began to enjoy the soundtrack screaming and roaring around me. Suddenly I was in harmony with the music and the very terror and madness of it lifted the story and made it darker and weirder and ever more horrifying...

And then just as I was coming to the climax of the story the music faded away, allowing me to drop my voice to a scary whisper. 

It was a great telling, invigorating and uplifting. But I still have no idea where that sound came from. There is a room above the blue room, but nobody has been allowed in there since the 'incident' back in 2003. When I checked with the bar staff after the show they were adamant the room was locked as it always is... Which leaves me in a bit of a quandary. You see my audience enjoyed the night so much they want to come back for more stories with horror soundtracks...

So now I'm on the look out for any death metal bands in Galway who would be free on a Thursday evening to come along to my show to sing a wee tune or two about dismemberment and intimate relationships with corpses.