Hello – this is a pop-up post, rather than my regular blog post which appears every two weeks. If you’d like to find some Christmas and New Year reading, can I suggest browsing three of my earlier posts? They are all in the festive spirit!
Pangur Ban and the Old Irish Cats
How about renewing acquaintance with my most popular post ever? Some 2,500 readers have enjoyed this over the last twelve months or so. It’s Pangur Ban and the Old Irish Cats, perfect for a sense of mystery on these dark nights.
‘As those of us in the Northern Hemisphere progress through the darkest days of the year, we may perhaps find ourselves more affected by the power of poetry. Words resonate when we’re not so distracted by bright light and busy lives outside… An ancient Irish poem is set in just this context, that of a monk writing and studying in the depths of night…This monk’s notebook shows that he was working on a variety of classical and theological texts, but the poem itself is about his relationship with his cat, Pangur Ban.’
I and Pangur Ban my cat, ‘Tis a like task we are at: Hunting mice is his delight, Hunting words I sit all night….
When a mouse darts from its den, O how glad is Pangur then! O what gladness do I prove When I solve the doubts I love!
So in peace our task we ply, Pangur Ban, my cat, and I; In our arts we find our bliss, I have mine and he has his.
You can also read about the role of cats in Old Ireland, and how they were protected and prized in law.
The Twelve Days of Christmas
Or you could revel in the story of the traditional Twelve Days of Christmas. Discover its old customs, and learn how to make Twelfth Night Cake! (I made it last year, and it was very popular with my neighbours.) There’s also a guide to confusing calendars and why the mornings go on getting darker after the winter solstice.
The Fool and his Feast
Allied to the Twelve Days, the Fool makes his rumbustious appearance at Christmas and New Year. Have we lost this tradition of folly? I don’t think so! As well as discovering its history, you might get ideas for modern mischief-making, for turning the world topsy turvy with innocent mirth. I also make an excursion into the world of the Fool in the Tarot. Take a cartwheel into ‘The Fool and his Feast‘!
And in the meantime, I wish you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! With some festive music to play us out…
Here’s a game for the festive season, using some weird and wonderful words sourced from Halliwell’s Dictionary of Archaic and Provincial Words. The aim is to guess the correct definition of each word, from the three versions given. You can try it on your own, or play it with others in a format similar to the panel game ‘Call My Bluff’. (see below for instructions)
I rustled up this game a few years ago, dipping into my two-volume Halliwell with delight to find tempting words. We then played it at our Exeter Writers Christmas Party, with much mirth. I’ve added a few more words for this version, and may come up with a Part Two in due course, such is the delight of dipping into Halliwell!
Answers are at the end.
Tossicated To be sexually aroused To feel restless and perplexed A term for seasickness, used by seasoned sailors to scorn those with no sea legs
A compulsory tea-break halt for train drivers in the early days of Saturday rail excursions
A kind of door-wedge, used in back-to-back houses, to prevent drunken neighbours bursting in after a Saturday night in the pub (Birmingham)
A time unlawful to catch salmon, from evensong on Saturday until sunrise on Monday, in the northern parts of the British Isles
Well, what do you think? Train excursion, life in the back-to-backs, or time to put down the fishing rod?
Owlguller An owl catcher, who sold live owls for mousing, or to bring good luck to the home. An ignorant person, who peers like an owl and screeches like a gull. (Kent) To pry about, be stealthy, and thievish – (Suffolk)
Ninny-nonny To feel uncertain, especially in Lincolnshire A dunce or very forgetful person A pleasing fancy, whim or trifle
Meacock A silly, effeminate fellow – a term of insult often combined as ‘a meacock and a milksop’ A term for the finest barnyard cockerel, judged by his plumage A type of spigot used to stop up a barrel, sometimes used as an obscene euphemism
Kipe To nag, whinge and whine in Norfolk A hearty slab of bread and cheese in Dorset To be wrong, just plain wrong, in Lancashire
Crap To snap or crack (Somerset) Dregs of beer Money (North)
Three thrum A weaving pattern, involving a particular rhythm of the loom The song of a female cat as she purrs (Lincolnshire) A kind of musing phrase, like ‘ho hum’, said when hesitant
Kissing-crust Marks left on the face by vigorous kissing Where two loaves have joined together in the oven A ridge of icy snow, which girls would try to kiss and melt to improve their luck in love
Giglet A giddy, romping girl (West Country) May imply wantonness A small kind of pony trap, popular on the Welsh borders A shaped cutlet, made out of odds and ends of meat, beans etc
Snurle A delicate snare, to catch stoats and weasels A cold in the head (Suffolk) A tangle of sheep’s wool, such as found on thorn bushes (Devon)
Clapperclaw Part of a type of church bell A hiding place in a clapper bridge to leave messages, goods etc. (Devon) To beat, abuse and fight seriously
Bittiwelp To rush or fall headlong (Bedfordshire) A small puppy, often the runt of the litter To holler loudly and in a crazy manner
Nunt An insult, meaning a small and worthless person To go nunting is to collect acorns for pigs To make an effort (North)
Snuffkin A small muff used by ladies in cold weather An affectionate term for the youngest child of the family (Yorkshire) A kind of toadstool, once added to snuff to make up weight cheaply
Wudder The tail fin of a fish (Somerset) An indecisive person, who thinks all the time about whether (‘wudder’) to do something To make a sullen roar
The words listed in bold are the correct definitions
Tossicated – To be sexually aroused
Saturday-stop – A time unlawful to catch salmon, from evensong on Saturday until sunrise on Monday, in the northern parts of the British Isles
Owlguller– To pry about, be stealthy, and thievish – (Suffolk)
Ninny-nonny -To feel uncertain, especially in Lincolnshire
Meacock – A silly, effeminate fellow – a term of insult often combined as ‘a meacock and a milksop’
Kipe -To be wrong, just plain wrong, in Lancashire
Crap – All definitions are correct! – To snap or crack (Somerset), Dregs of beer, Money (North)
Three thrum – The song of a female cat as she purrs (Lincolnshire)
Kissing-crust – Where two loaves have joined together in the oven
Giglet – A giddy, romping girl (West) May imply wantonness
Snurle – A cold in the head (Suffolk)
Clapperclaw – To beat, abuse and fight seriously
Bittiwelp – To rush or fall headlong (Bedfordshire)
Nunt – To make an effort (North)
Snuffkin – A small muff used by ladies in cold weather
Wudder – To make a sullen roar
How to play with others
You need three people on the panel, and others to guess the answers. Each person on the panel has a list of the words, with only the definition that they will give. They don’t know if theirs is right or wrong when they plead their cause. Each panellist has the job of convincing the others that their answer is the right one, by giving the definition and explaining a bit more about it. At the end, the master or mistress of ceremonies reads out the correct answers and all the players tot up the number of guesses they’ve got right.
I’ve created play sheets which you can access below as a PDF – one for each panellist, with their list of definitions, and a comprehensive one with the right answers in bold, for the quiz master.
I do hope you enjoy it, and if you have any quarrel with the answers, don’t take it up with me – address them to James Orchard Halliwell; (21 June 1820 – 3 January 1889) – an English Shakespearean scholar, antiquarian, and a collector of English nursery rhymes and fairy tales. Interestingly for me, too, he also edited the Private Diary of Dr. John Dee, magician and astrologer, and the man who helped Queen Elizabeth I to choose an auspicious date for her coronation.
If you fancy consulting Halliwell yourself, you can buy copies second hand, or there are sites where you can find the text online, eg at Open Library. My own two volumes arrived in an interesting fashion. When I was keenly into my folk singing period as a teenager, I took part in the ongoing folk workshop run by radio producer Charles Parker. (You can read more about him and the influence of his Radio Ballads at my post Singing at the Holy Ground.) Charles always ended up with more books than he could ever hope to read – he once said that he would like to be incapacitated for a few months so that he could catch up with all the books waiting for him! Anyway, he had a spare volume of Halliwell K-Z, and gave it to me. It was a kind of talisman and I perused it frequently. But it was only with the advent of online book buying that I suddenly realised I could acquire Vol A-K quite easily! So now my set is complete; even if the glue is giving way and the cover cracking it somehow adds to the charm.
Before we head into Christmas, I’d like to offer a further post on alchemy which gives some background to this very mysterious and enigmatic practice. It’s spiced up with some glorious alchemical illustrations which I hope will light your path through it.
Alchemy and ‘New Dawn’
In 2015, author and editor Richard Smoley and I conducted a conversation about the whys and wherefores of alchemy. It was published in the Australian journal ‘New Dawn’, and I’ve adapted it here for Cherry’s Cache. This discussion helped me to piece together my own thoughts about alchemy.
My personal story with alchemy is an odd one, in that I never set out to study it or write about it. I had followed a path since my student days which primarily taught me about Kabbalah and the Tree of Life, and included Buddhist and Western meditation practices. Tarot was another tradition which I engaged with, and I began to learn and practice astrology. Of course, I came across alchemy when I began to devour material about these traditions, and I could see that there was a broad field of interrelated practices of a so-called ‘esoteric’ nature. Frances Yates was just emerging as a scholar who could piece some of this together. So how hard could it be, I asked myself, when I was invited to write a short history of alchemy?
Very, as it turned out! Commissioning editor R. A. (Bob) Gilbert was lacking a script for a series currently being produced by the Aquarian Press, grandly entitled ‘Esoteric Themes and Perspectives’. Alchemy was on the list, but an author had let him down, and now he needed someone who could write it in six months. Armed only with blind confidence, I sallied forth to our local University Library in Exeter, to assemble my source material. Luckily, they had a good collection of texts, to be supplemented by other books that I could lay my hands on. But my dreams of swiftly assembling a dazzlingly coherent study of alchemy were dashed when I saw just how complex and contradictory its history was. However, I gritted my teeth, and learnt a valuable lesson – to use my own judgement. I had to go for the jugular, as it were; I couldn’t afford to waste time on peripheral material. I used my own experience of working within genuine traditions to discern where integrity and value lay. And I got it done – somehow.
Alchemy: The Great Work came out in 1984, and, rather mysteriously, it has never been out of print since, weaving its way through different publishers, titles and editions. (You will find it also as The Elements of Alchemy and Explore Alchemy, which I thought would be its last incarnation in 2007, but then suddenly Harper Collins decided they wished to re-publish the original 1984 version.) Surely the tricksy but ultimately helpful hand of Hermes has played a part in this somehow? Yes, I’m sure he did, since the publishers ‘forgot’ to tell me they were doing this, until just before it hit the shelves! And I am still proud to have produced an accessible, clear and reliable history of alchemy, while imbuing it with some meaning, rather than a dry recitation of the facts.
I do not consider myself an alchemist, in the usual sense, and yet undeniably, we have a close relationship. Perhaps this was a task given to me to undertake, rather than one I directly chose myself.
Here follows the discussion which I had with Richard Smoley, slightly shortened:
Alchemy and Transformation
R.S. Maybe we could start by a brief definition of what you think alchemy is. C.G. Alchemy is about transformation. In its most basic definition, it’s the transformation of base material or metal into gold. However, that is too simplistic, according to the ways in which the tradition of alchemy has been practised and understood over hundreds, even thousands, of years. In a way, alchemy is about the process of creation itself: how does one thing become another? How do things change state? How can we change our state of being? And can we, as so-called conscious human beings, learn how to make those changes? So, another way to put it is that alchemy is a way of using the life force to effect transformation, whether that’s on the physical, external level, or in a spiritual way. I hesitate to say that the alchemical process can work either on the material or on the spiritual level, because in one sense, in alchemy, they are completely integrated!
R.S. Most people would say that alchemy is just an old and outmoded form of chemistry. Why should we interest ourselves in it today? I think this old chestnut comes up because of the way historians have dealt with alchemy in the last hundred years or so. That has formed the belief we’re fed. I use the word ‘belief’ because I really do think our perception of what is true and false, what is reliably scientific and what is non-scientific and therefore superstitious – in some people’s eyes – is molded by the way history has been interpreted. Anyone who reads my book will, I hope, have that view changed. The evidence from the history of alchemy alone, when explored more fully, shows just how seriously it was taken, and how it can’t be just cast on the scrapheap as a well-meaning but deluded forerunner to enlightened science. Isaac Newton himself was an alchemist, and funnily enough, scholars have recently begun to pay a lot more attention to that fact.
I myself make no claims that alchemy is effective when judged by the standards of modern chemistry. I am not a scientist and clearly, we’re not going to go backwards in time and revert to what now seem very primitive methods for working with chemical elements. I think the point is more that alchemy has had many applications over its history, and that the way it led into chemistry as we know it was just one feature of the whole spectrum of alchemy. Maybe it still has more to teach us about how to work with physical materials though – and with the whole area of interaction of mind and materials opening up in science, it could offer views and approaches which breathe new life into scientific development. But whatever the case there, alchemy still has much to impart in terms of psychology, spiritual development, and our relationship with the natural world. In one form or another, it’s still a path to knowledge.
Puzzles of Science, Mind and Matter
R.S. Could you say a little bit about the origins of alchemy? C.G. Well, again here we are somewhat constrained by the degree of research and scholarship available to us. This suggests, to put it briefly, that the metal-workers of Ancient Egypt may have kicked off the interest in the transformation of one material or metal into another. And that this came to early fruition in the Hellenistic, Alexandrian period, which began about three hundred years before the Christian Era. But I suspect that if a few scholars really dig into the roots of alchemy, they will find a much wider realm of alchemical endeavor, particularly if they broaden the definition of alchemy. In the Far East, alchemy also had ancient origins, but the focus there was more on how the human body worked. Just as shamanism has extended its definition in recent years – it was once considered to be exclusively Siberian, and now is traced almost world-wide – so alchemy may have a broader historical lineage than we suspect at present. Perhaps this is beginning to happen. It has been suggested for instance that the discovery of charcoal burning is linked to a historical peasant tradition of alchemy as practiced by the Basques, one of the most ancient peoples of Europe.
R.S. Some writers describe alchemy as a physical process—actual working with minerals and plants and so on. Others see it as a psychological process. How do you see these different roles? Are they both valid? C.G. I used to hold firmly to the view that true alchemy must be applied across the levels, having both aphysical and a mental component. Its magic, if I can call it that, is that it is neither purely material or purely spiritual. However, I’ve come to see this in a different light, and I think now that alchemy has an incredible spectrum of application, and can be targeted at different levels of creation. The most extreme examples of selective application are perhaps the old-fangled ‘puffers’ who spent all their time trying to work out how to concoct gold and get rich. And also the purely spiritual alchemists, among whom we can count Jacob Boehme. I consider now that both of these are valid in their way; they are both participating in an alchemical process. However, if the get-rich-quick alchemists ignored the bigger scale of the creative process, and limited their goals to financial reward, they were likely to end up dirty, disappointed and broke! Alchemical laboratories weren’t pretty, fragrant places to work in.
Looking at the other extreme – as exemplified by Boehme – can certainly have more significant results, using alchemy as a metaphor for spiritual development. But perhaps it peters out as a way forward, or be very particular to one alchemist, because it is treated then purely as a set of symbols, which could be replaced by another set at will. If you sever the connection between material process and our sense of creation as a whole, or between spiritual and material understanding, then that approach to alchemy can’t flourish for long. There’s much to ponder on here, and I doubt that my own views will ever reach a complete and final conclusion!
The Wisdom and Folly of Hermes
R.S. The book title links alchemy with the ‘hermetic tradition’. How does that work? does Hermes come into this too? C.G. Hermes is very important in alchemy, as a kind of patron saint – except that he isn’t very saintly! He’s more of a shape-shifter or trickster figure. Hermes and Mercury meld to a certain extent, so that we have the guiding spirit of Hermes who might or might not lead you to enlightenment through your alchemical practice, and we also have Mercury the metal, with its indwelling Mercurial spirit. Hermes is more than a figurehead too – his name is associated with a body of literature which has influenced both alchemists and the Western esoteric tradition. Hence the broad term ‘hermetic tradition’. Nicholas Goodrick-Clarke, in his excellent study The Western Esoteric Traditions, points out that the cult of Hermes was founded on the Egyptian traditions associated with Thoth, and that Hermes evolved into a kind of ‘syncretic god’ who had a profound influence on the whole development of esoteric work up until the Renaissance period. I would say further it goes further than that, actually. Sir Walter Scott and G. S. Mead, for instance, were keen to plumb the wisdom of the so-called Hermetic texts, and to translate them for others to read in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. They have left us a legacy that we value today.
So we can see Hermes/Mercury as a kind of guide in individual practice of alchemy. But also as a mischievous creature, apt to lead us astray. Michael Sendivogius, in his alchemical treatise The New Chemical Light, which was published around 1608, addresses his readers as ‘the Sons of Hermes’ and includes a wonderful dialogue between the alchemist and Mercury. Here Mercury is the trickster spirit who plagues the alchemist with his cunning ways – the alchemist decides to invoke Mercury himself to shed light on what’s going wrong with his experiments. Mercury appears to him, but is laughing his head off! Then they engage in a clever battle of words, at the end of which the alchemist is none the wiser, and demands that Mercury tells him how to make the Philosopher’s Stone, which is another term for Alchemical Gold or The Elixir. Mercury neatly wraps up the repartee with, ‘Mr Philosopher, if you know, you can make it, and if you don’t you can’t.’ That one gets me laughing too! Suddenly, it’s like the tales of Hodja Nasreddin, or a lesson from Gurdjieff. (I plan to post a blog which touches on these elements of ‘wise folly’ very soon. In the meantime, try the home-grown Black Country ‘fools’ Enoch and Eli for ‘a bit of a laff’at my previous post: Enoch and Eli: The Heroes of Black Country Wit. )
I prepared a version of this dialogue, and we performed it – perhaps for the first time in nearly 400 years? – at an alchemical conference in Prague. Not many people think of alchemy as being a source of humour, but it’s there, if you dig for it. And we can probably attribute it to the Hermetic influence.
Anyway, the role of Hermes and his sidekick Mercury make for a fascinating study, one that I want to continue with. But as far as I’m concerned, it’s more than something on the page. On three occasions, Mercury aka Hermes has actually turned up in my life. Laugh if you will! (You can read an account of the first and chief occasion when this happened in my post ‘Alchemy and the Trickster)
Dragons, Lions and Lovers
R.S. Why did the old alchemical texts rely so heavily on symbols and emblems rather than verbal descriptions? C.G. I think it’s clear that you couldn’t really explain alchemy in normal, so-called rational terms. Alchemy doesn’t work as a collection of recipes, as many practitioners have found to their cost. It was considered important too that each alchemist should work it out in their own way. Alchemy has to speak to the spirit; it isn’t just an assemblage and processing of materials. So the symbols can do that. They really stirred the spirit of the historical alchemists, and still resonate for many of us today. Some are very complex, and also very beautiful. Dragons, kings and queens, water and fire, serpents, lovers, lions – a rich panoply of imagery. Colours were very important too – the stages of transformation were marked by colour changes in the vessel. Also the imagery poses problems and questions, which the alchemist must wrestle with. Why is the king sick in bed? What are the dragons fighting about? What do the steps on the mountain represent? This generates insight and stimulates the imagination.
Alchemy and Dreaming
C.G. It’s also recorded that the secrets of alchemy came to certain practitioners through dreams and visions too – and dreams, as we know, deal in paradoxical, powerful images. The place of dreams in alchemy is a whole topic in itself. There’s evidence that alchemists deliberately cultivated visionary states, and practiced what today we might call ‘visualisation’.
R.S. Jung found much of value in alchemy. Do you find the hooking up of alchemy with psychology and archetypes of interest? Or is it just one particular slant that doesn’t reflect the real body of alchemical work? C.G. Jung found himself mesmerized by alchemical imagery, and used it to illuminate his psychological theories and indeed to help him towards new insights into the human psyche. I think he has done us a huge favour by re-investigating the writings and symbols of alchemy, in one sense. It means you can have a conversation with a psychologist about alchemy, and that it’s crept back into our vocabulary again. There’s much in Jung’s writings on alchemy that those with a modern education, and little time for pre-scientific theory, can relate to. On the other hand, I also believe that Jung has done us a disfavour by cutting off the main body of practical alchemy, where laboratories, equipment and materials were involved. He actually said that the alchemical operations of old were ‘senseless’ and never led to the desired goal. As I said earlier, if you slice off just one layer of alchemy, you may produce something with a kind of one-off value, but you also divorce yourself from the evolving path of alchemy. I do think it’s time that we moved on from Jung’s interpretations.
Alchemy, Spirituality and Personal Development
R.S. How does alchemy work as a spiritual path? C.G. This is something that has to be done within a context. If you are a Christian believer, it’s perfectly possible to use the symbols of alchemy to represent stages of mystical attainment, and understanding of Christ’s teachings. Boehme did it, and so did the poet Henry Vaughan. I think that if you meditate on the symbols, and you embed the imagery in your consciousness, it will work there, to release your own limitations and expand your awareness in an intuitive, even cosmic way. That’s the power of symbols, and alchemical ones aren’t random – they form a kind of graded teaching system.
However, we can also use the symbolism in the context of everyday life, if we’re prepared to be attentive, observant, and aim to increase our conscious awareness. This has much in common with Kabbalistic or Gurdjieffian practice. I have written about it in Everyday Alchemy. You can actually start with very simple things – it needn’t be too high-flown or complicated. There’s a talk that I give which begins with the statement, ‘I’m an alchemist. I cook supper every night.’ There’s a moment’s puzzled pause, then laughter, as the audience gets it! I explain that cooking is a process of transformation very much akin to alchemy, and that in our own kitchens we have the materials and the method to start to understand transformation. (See my Cherry’s Cache post about Alchemy and Cooking )
The Sealed Vessel of Alchemy and Creativity
R.S. Can you say more about alchemy and the creative process? Is it a model which could be used in any sense nowadays for creative work? C.G. Writers and artists have used alchemy as inspiration for their work for a very long time. Studies of Shakespeare, for instance, reveal that he was almost certainly using alchemical templates to plot some of his plays. This is not wild conjecture, but has scholarly back-up. Therefore, I think those working creatively can dig into the symbolism, read about traditional forms of alchemy, and find inspiration for their work. I have talked to several artists about this, including one or two highly successful ones, who find that the framework of alchemy is a wonderful source for their creative work. One of the key points that strikes me again and again – with my writing too – is that alchemy is ‘hermetic’. It’s sealed, it’s private up to a certain point. The creative process must ‘cook’ in the vessel, and you must shield it from prying eyes. Too often nowadays, we’re expected to talk about artistic or literary work in progress. No, says alchemy! Wait until the time is right, or you risk prematurely wrecking your material. It could all just evaporate. So you have to have courage, and patience, and be your own guide for a lot of the time as well. All lessons which I think we could profit from today.
The Mystery of Consciousness
R.S. Alchemy seems to imply that there is some kind of consciousness latent even in inanimate matter. Would you agree with that view? If so, what do you think its implications are? C.G. I do agree, and have struggled for many years to try and understand and perceive that. I think that alchemy was way ahead of its time in this respect. Once you start to break out of the dead hand of the world view of material/mind split, you realise just what a grip it has on you. Whether or not the alchemical view of consciousness is really ‘true’ in a scientific sense, I think it’s incredibly important to see just how our values and outlook are shaped by religious, cultural and scientific thinking. We tend to assume them as the norm, whether we like them or not. And we desperately need new models to go forward. And as far as I can tell, there is progress on the scientific or biological front too in accepting a broader definition of consciousness. According to the biologist Rupert Sheldrake, we do have ‘species mind’, for instance. I think it will also improve our care of the environment if we even concede the possibility that consciousness of some kind is within everything. And restrict the waste for instance of food and resources. (I’m not one to believe that all yoghurt in the world cries when you eat a pot of yoghurt! Seriously, I have heard that said!) But I can’t bear the waste of life forms, both of plants and animals and probably mineral too, which taints human culture now.
And, after all, what is consciousness? I don’t mean that as a clever-clever question. But it strikes me that there is much further to go in unravelling its mysteries. For instance, how come we are apparently ‘unconscious’ at night, and yet we can create the most amazing dreams? We may generate insights, and even when not dreaming, our identity remains during sleep. How do we often know exactly what time it is when we wake up, if some form of consciousness has not been operating? If we take a broader view of consciousness, re-brand it if you like, we can go much further in our discoveries.
The current edition of my book Alchemy: The Great Work offers a clearly-written history of alchemy and insights into its meaning, including its relationship to spiritual development.
Everyday Alchemy, published in 2002, is a guide to using alchemical symbols to transform and enrich everyay life. No laboratory required, apart from yourself! (Out of print, so search on the internet. I hope to bring this back into publication before too long.)
The next post on December 19th will be an entertaining word game which I hope you’ll enjoy over Christmas! See you then!