If you don’t understand what I’m talking about, it’s probably because you haven’t read yesterday’s article. Yep, this series’ effect is cumulative. I’m annoying like that.
Elves, as we have seen, were believed in throughout the North. The same can be said for goblins. The British and Irish divided their fairies into two broad categories, the trooping fairies and the solitary fairies. Trooping fairies include elves of all sorts, and solitary fairies are, well, solitary. Goblins – small, ugly, malicious creatures – are among this last group. Now, pure, honest-to-goodness goblins are rather rare in folk belief, in part because the term is so general that many things we might otherwise call goblins have names of their own but mainly because, contrary to popular belief, there are few truly evil folkloric beings. Probably even more common than elves in Northern European folk belief are hobgoblins, the hob in the name indicating that these goblins are generally friendly. That hobgoblin is, today, a negative term should, however, not surprise us.
To the Puritans and less radical Protestant theologians, all fairies were evil on the grounds that they were not fairies at all but really devils in disguise. In part to distance the new Protestant faith from Catholicism, the British and Scandinavian clergy took a strict view on the afterlife. Whereas the Catholics had Purgatory and much broader concept of worlds beyond human understanding, the Protestants had only Heaven and Hell. The Protestant idea was that those in Hell had no power to leave and come to earth, and those in Heaven had no desire to leave, so “fairies” and “ghosts” were nothing but manipulations of Satan. Thus, even helpful fairies came to be seen as malignant, their “helpfulness” being a ploy to lead people off the road to holiness. How much this elite ideology was accepted by the commoners is unclear, but suffice it to say that a number of Scottish witches were burned for having had relations with fairies.
If hobgoblins were the most common type of fairy, brownies were the most common type of hobgoblin. Both Fyndhorn Brownie and Shelkin Brownie exist in Magic, and the latter’s flavor text (if not its ability and art), is representative of genuine belief. Brownies were household fairies connected to a single farm. Like elves, they could vary in size, but until more recent times, they were seen as about as large as humans. Nearly all brownies were male, and as a fast rule (one of the few fast rules in folklore) they were either naked or dressed very poorly. They also tended to be quite hairy. In exchange for a bit of food each day, a brownie would do massive amounts of farm work, from caring for the horses to threshing the wheat. Sometimes, it would steal grain from other farms to bring back to its own. It was not a mere paid laborer though and had a great love for its farm and the family it served. All brownies seem to have enjoyed playing harmless tricks, but if they, the farm, or their masters were mistreated, they could take serious revenge. Farmers who refused to leave out food for the brownie might wake up to a find one of his horses dead, and servants who worked poorly were routinely thrashed, much like the Tories at general elections.
Many brownie stories revolve around the accidental banishing (laying) of a well-loved brownie: The farmer or his wife, being so pleased with their brownie or pitying his nakedness, leave out clothes for him to find at night. Upon discovering the clothes, the brownie may be insulted that his patrons see him as nothing more than an employee who needs to be rewarded. More often, the brownie dons the dainty garments and decides that he is too fine a character to continue doing farm work. Invariably, the brownie, much to the farmer’s regret, leaves.
Going hand in hand with the age-old “What’s a brownie?” question that lovers of obscure Green critters tend to ask is, “What’s an ouphe?” Etymologically linked to elf via aulf, an ouphe was simply another name for elvish fairies. It eventually acquired the nuance of describing a changeling (that is, an ugly, stupid creature left behind by elves after they have stolen a human baby). This, incidentally, explains the origin of the word oaf.
On a completely different scale are the beloved krakens of Magic. It may appear paltry that, so far, Magic’s Kraken Tribe is composed of only a pair of cards and a hanger-on (Tidal Kraken, Polar Kraken, and Kraken’s Eye), but on the basis of tradition, we’re actually lucky enough to have the only two krakens in existence. Our earliest source for the kraken is the anonymous King’s Mirror, written in Old Norwegian in about 1250. At the close of a discussion of the whales found around Iceland, the author adds this:
“There is a fish not yet mentioned which it is scarcely advisable to speak about on account of its size, which to most men will seem incredible. There are, moreover, but very few who can tell anything definite about it, inasmuch as it is rarely seen by men; for it almost never approaches the shore or appears where fishermen can see it, and I doubt that this sort of fish is very plentiful in the sea. In our language it is usually called the "kraken." I can say nothing definite as to its length in ells, for on those occasions when men have seen it, it has appeared more like an island than a fish. Nor have I heard that one has ever been caught or found dead. It seems likely that there are but two in all the ocean and that these beget no offspring, for I believe it is always the same ones that appear. Nor would it be well for other fishes if they were as numerous as the other whales, seeing that they are so immense and need so much food. It is said, that when these fishes want something to eat, they are in the habit of giving forth a violent belch, which brings up so much food that all sorts of fish in the neighborhood, both large and small, will rush up in the hope of getting nourishment and good fare. Meanwhile the monster keeps it mouth open, and inasmuch as its opening is about as wide as a sound or fjord, the fishes cannot help crowding in great numbers. But as soon as its mouth and belly are full, the monster closes its mouth and thus catches and shuts in all the fishes that just previously had rushed in eagerly to seek food.”
In a way, I’m grateful that those krakens are so chaste. Maybe, with all the Leviathans running around these days, two Krakens in Magic are enough.
Skål!
Adam Grydehøj
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