caraecethrae

[caraecethrae]

Edad is my fid for the month, and its been an insane month where ive had little time to study. however, it just struck me today that its entirely possible that the salmon its linked to is not the salmon of knowledge, but rather the salmon of life (vital aspect of a human that can be lost with overexertion or other ailments). idk yet how this all fits but it feels important

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key: (top to bottom, left to right) reproductive cycle of male and female pinecones with sprigs of juniper inbetween; pine needle and palm motif; celtic knot circle intertwined with a stylized Ailm/equal-armed cross; lapwing bird; pine tree; pine branch with needles, male cone, and female cones: both green and mature + opened; scenary of Grianán of Ailech (plus added ploughed fields) inside a palm shape; pine seeds

ᚐᚏ ᚐᚔᚂᚋᚓ (ar Ailme / for Ailm), Rowan Kal, 2025, digital painting

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ᚐᚏ ᚐᚔᚂᚋᚓ (ar Ailme / for Ailm), Rowan Kal, 2025, digital painting

[caraecethrae]

"We have first of all Lir, an infinite being, neither spirit nor energy nor substance, but rather the spiritual form of these, in which all the divine powers, raised above themselves, exist in a mystic union or trance. This is the night of the gods from which Mananan first awakens, the most spiritual divinity known to the ancient Gael, being the Gaelic equivalent of that Spirit which breathed on the face of the waters. He is the root of existence from which springs the Sacred Hazel, the symbol of life ramifying everywhere: and the forms of this life are conceived first by Mananan, the divine imagination. It throws itself into seven forms or divinities, the branches of the Hazel; and these again break out endlessly into leaves and blossoms and fruit, into myriads of divine beings, the archetypes and ancestral begetters of those spirits who are the Children of Lir. All these are first in the Divine..."

"But Mananan, while one in essence with the Paternal Lir, is yet, as the divine imagination, a separate being to whom, thus brooding, Lir seems apart, or covered over with a veil, and this aspect of Lir, a mirage which begins to cover over true being, is Dana, the Hibernian Mother of the Gods, or Sinan in the antique Dinnshenchus, deity first viewed externally, and therefore seeming to partake of the nature of substance, and, as the primal form of matter, the Spirit of Nature. Mananan alone of all the gods exists in the inner side of this spirit, and therefore it is called his mantle, which, flung over man or god, wraps them from the gaze of embodied beings..."

"Out of the Divine Darkness Mananan has arisen, a brooding twilight before dawn, in which the cloud images of the gods are thronging. But there is still in Lir an immense deep of being, an emotional life too vast, too spiritual, too remote to speak of, for the words we use to-day cannot tell its story. It is the love yet unbreathed, and yet not love, but rather a hidden unutterable tenderness, or joy, or the potency of these, which awakens as the image of the divine imagination is reflected in the being of the Mother, and then it rushes forth to embrace it. The Fountain beneath the Hazel has broken. Creation is astir. The Many are proceeding from the One. An energy or love or eternal desire has gone forth which seeks through a myriad forms of illusion for the infinite being it has left. It is Angus the Young, an eternal joy becoming love, a love changing into desire, and leading on to earthly passion and forgetfulness of its own divinity. The eternal joy becomes love when it has first merged itself in form and images of a divine beauty dance before it and lure it afar. This is the first manifested world, the Tirnanoge or World of Immortal Youth. The love is changed into desire as it is drawn deeper into nature, and this desire builds up the Mid-world or World of the Waters. And, lastly, as it lays hold of the earthly symbol of its desire it becomes on Earth that passion which is spiritual death."

The Candle of Vision, by AE (George William Russell), 1918

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"I would like to vindicate my predecessors in Ireland and correlate my own vision and the vision of my friends with the vision of those who went before us, for I think when we discard the past and its vision we are like men who, half-way up a mountain, decide foolishly to attempt the ascent from another side of the hill and so continually lose the height which was gained. Our Gaelic ancestors had the gift of seership, and I had thought at one time to reconstruct from the ancient literature the vision of the universe they had, a labour which might be done by any who had vision of his own and who was versed in the comparative study of the religions of the past, and so make intelligible to those who live here to-day the thought of their forefathers, and enable them to begin anew the meditation towards divine things so often broken up in our unhappy history."

The Candle of Vision, by AE (George William Russell), 1918

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"...I found this power in myself, not leaping up Titanically as if it would storm the heavens, but a steady light in the brain, "the candle upon the forehead," and it was revealed in ecstasy of thought or power in speech, and in a continuous welling up from within myself of intellectual energy, vision or imagination. It is the afflatus of the poet or musician. As an ancient scripture says of it, "The Illuminator is the inspirer of the poet, the jeweller, the chiseller and all who work in the arts." It is the Promethean fire, and only by mastery of this power will man be able to ascend to the ancestral Paradise."

The Candle of Vision, by AE (George William Russell), 1918

[caraecethrae]

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nGétal - Ng

Charm - Wound

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Keyword: Purge

Key Concepts: change in health, pain, magical charms, battle magic, cleansing, active healing, cure, poison

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Color: nglas - green-blue

Tree: giolcach/gilcach - broom/reed, raith - fern, rait - bog-myrtle

Bird: ngéigh - goose

Art: ngibae - modelling, glóṡnáithe - arranging?

Agriculture: ngend - wedge

Bríatharoghaim:

lúth lego

"sustenance of a leech"

• This has also been translated as "physician's strength" or "physician's cry"

▪︎ "Physician's cry" could definitely be a reference to a healing charm

• Glossed as, "broom/reed on account of its healing powers" in one place

• Also glossed as cath ("battle"). In one gloss, the relationship between cath and nGétal is said to be a kinship between K (Coll) and nG, and in another, it is said to be the kinship between battle and gétal

▪︎ This seems to imply that the real meaning of this fid is gétal ("act of wounding")

- Violence creates a lot of work for doctors

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étiud midach

"robe of physicians"

• One source has this as miodach íce, meaning "leech/physician of healing"

• Glossed as "battle"

• Could have the same meaning as the above phrase, as food and clothes are both necessary for life

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tosach n-échto

"beginning of a slaying"

• Glossed as icce ("healing/cure"), which is also connected in one attestation of the above Bríatharogham

▪︎ While this doesn't immediately seem to illuminate "beginning of a slaying," it could possibly be an oblique reference to the inherent danger and violence of the healing profession in those days

• One manuscript uses éc (tosa éc) which is usually used in contexts of natural death, rather than one caused by violence

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The exact etymology of nGétal is obscure. The "n" attached to nGétal is cosmetic, differentiating it from Gort. It is unknown what the original value was; some argue it was a "Gw" sound, making it a paired fid with Gort in the same way Coll and Cert are. The fid, nGétal, doesn't have many attestations in the inscription era, which makes it even more difficult to know how it was originally used.

The meaning of nGétal is also highly debated. The two main theories are Gétal and Cétal. Gétal is not an attested word, but it's possible that it is an old verbal noun of gonid ("wounds") that fell out of use, giving gétal the definition of "act of wounding." While guin is the more common form of this verb, it could've originally followed the formation used by cétal ("act of singing") from canid ("sings"). This definition would fit best the Bríatharogham "beginning of a slaying," while also referring to violence keeping physicians in business in the other two.

Cétal ("act of singing" or "act of chanting") is also a possible meaning for nGétal, if less popular. "N-" is one way to eclipse a word, and is not always pronounced, unless the word began with C or G. It is also common in Old Irish to spell an eclipsed C-word with a G, although that eclipsed variation is spelled without the "n-." This would fit the first Bríatharogham well, if one chooses to translate it as, "physician's cry." There does seem to be less evidence for this origin word etymologically; however, it does seem to fit the glosses better. They all refer to specifically the healing powers of a physician, rather than an act that brings work to a physician (wounding).

The scholarly consensus seems to be that gétal ("act of wounding") was the original meaning, and over time, as that verbal form was dropped, the meaning began to be assumed to be cétal ("act of singing"). It is also entirely possible that this was meant to have a dual meaning, a bit of wordplay, which could explain the confusion when scholars later tried to gloss the Bríatharoghaim.

Personally, I think we can't overestimate the Gaels' fondness for wordplay. I dont see Gétal and Cétal as competing meanings for nGétal; rather, I believe that both meanings are being hinted at by the glosses. I see the confusion in the meanings as entirely intentional. I believe the glossators were attempting to allude to this through both references to the "kinship between cáth ["battle"] and Gétal" and the "kinship between Coll and Gétal." As nGétal is an intentionally eclipsed fid, I think it makes perfect sense to allude to the natural Old Irish tradition of eclipsing a C-word with the letter G. If this meaning started to become obscure, a good way to continue to encapsulate the meaning of nGétal could be by adding the cosmetic "-n," reaffirming its eclipsed status.

My conclusion of all of this steps into personal gnosis territory, so don't be afraid to take a different stance. The Ogham as a divinatory system is just now being revitalized, and therefore is open to a multiplicity of interpretations. Finding a synthesis between everyone's different intuitive responses is a life's work. Being able to understand what each fid means to you—and what their spirit has for you to learn—is a personal journey that must be undertaken individually.

Regardless of how nGétal might've originally been understood, there's no question that it has developed a dual meaning. While I try to give earlier historocity more credence, I do believe that the way tradition evolves is also important, and can be led by the spirit of the fid. With this in mind, I will proceed with the synthesis that I have come to understand as the underlying meaning of nGétal.

With both the act of wounding and the act of healing, the fundamental effect is a change in health. Regardless of in which direction, nGétal speaks to an outside force affecting someone's body. This has an immediately obvious divinatory message, which could be a warning or comfort.

The healing nGétal refers to is specifically being enacted from the outside. Techniques used for healing usually require some form of necessary harm, and this was especially true in the past. There was no anesthesia or strong painkillers, and yet it was still sometimes necessary to amputate a limb, lance a boil, or reset a broken or dislocated bone. The herbs used to heal can also be used for poison—it's all down to proper dosage. Most infamously, to both medicine throughout the medieval age and before, and also to the Bríatharoghaim for nGétal, leeches were used to heal patients, giving doctors the title of "leech." Leeches suck the blood from humans' veins, and it was believed that this could balance the humors and purge negative influences from the blood. This act of wounding a person, drawing their blood, was a cornerstone practice of the medical profession at the time. The path of the physician is full of necessary violence to preserve life.

I believe it would be natural to combine the meanings of healing and wounding. One follows the other inherently, and even a completely able-bodied person's life consists of an endless cycle of sickness or injury and health. One cannot remain completely healthy forever. In between these two fundamental stages of life condition, there are two liminal phases of leaving one and entering another. In order to leave the state of injury, one must be healed. And often, the way one loses that healthy is by the act of wounding, either from someone else or wounding oneself. These two deeply human acts balance one another in the constant dance of life.

Further Cultural Associations:

The healing aspect of nGétal is thought to come from the word cétal, meaning "act of singing" or "act of chanting, reciting." This would mean that the first two Bríatharoghaim are pointing to healing magic, specifically through the use of charms. Cétal is often referenced within magic, most famously being the base word for díchetal di chennaib—a kind of poetic, magical skill that was necessary for a filidh to learn to be able to reach the status of ollamh (master poet), along with the more famous imbas forosnai. While the original incantation or ritual is lost to time, examining its etymology can lend some light on its use.

The definition of díchetal is surprisingly narrow, as it is pretty much only used in cases of chanting an incantation or spell, and it references its pair with the next word, linking it possibly to divination. It’s root word is cétal, which is mostly documented in reference to singing or chanting in a religious context. That would be a natural shift—if cétal did indeed originally refer to magical or divinatory practice.

The root word of chennaib is cenn, which translates to “head” or several different definitions describing duration. In context of other references to the entire phrase di/do chennaib, there are several attestations that make it clear that the phrase refers to speaking or acting “extemporaneously.” In English, we use the phrase, “off the top of my head,” to refer to a similar sentiment, so it is a phrasing easily understood for us.

Within a description of an advanced form of poetry in Bretha Nemed, there seems to be a reference to díchetal do chennaib. It specifically refers to “dicheadal docanar do cholla cennaibh” which translates to, “A chant which is recited from heads of bodies...” The addition of the genitive plural for colainn, “bodies, corpses,” is also attested elsewhere, possibly referencing this passage. This phrase is most likely simply a poetic rendering of the term, but it does add a certain violence to the phrase which is particularly interesting.

Scholars have theorized that this magical connotation was a later paganisation that might’ve not been the original meaning, making its original meaning simply “extemporaneous composition.” If this is true, the change would’ve been done to strengthen the legitimacy of the filí's profession, by linking it to supernatural powers and pre-Christian Ireland. There’s also an entry in Sanas Cormaic that mentions St. Patrick banning the use of imbas forosnai and teinm laedo (a divination practice famously used by Fionn mac Cumhaill), while allowing díchetal do chennaib, as no offering to “demons” is required, only inspiration. Notably, Sanas Cormaic is known to be full of common medieval misconceptions, being written well into the Christian Era, so it is unlikely he had any particular knowledge as to the ritual acts behind these phrases. An original pagan meaning of this term may be difficult to prove, but given the sheer volume of magical associations, it is a fair assumption to claim it had an original pagan connotation. At the very least, it developed that connotation.

While the underlying cétal that might have been the foundation of nGétal is a lot broader in use than díchetal, it is interesting that its derivation into this particular word for singing was so strongly linked to incantations. It proves, at the very least, that singing or chanting a spell was thought to be common practice in ancient Ireland.

Interestingly, just as cétal is definitively linked to magic, there is also a tie between spell-casting and the other possible definition, gétal. The infamous war magic employed by Lugh, and other Irish mythological figures, is known as corrguinecht. This word is made up of corr (“crane/heron, pointed”) and guin (“wounding, slaying”), giving corrguinecht the meaning of either/both “crane-slaying” and/or “sharp-slaying.” Guin is the commonly used verbal noun of the word gonaid, of which gétal is thought to be a possible alternate verbal noun. While being referred to in the context of battle, the portmanteau describes a fundamentally magical practice. It required its user to maintain a stance with one foot in the air, one arm outstretched, and one eye closed—thought to be both the ritual stance of the heron and a way to invoke the Otherworld. Regardless of what the stance was supposed to represent, corrguinecht adds another mysterious, magical connection to nGétal.

I believe it's fair to say that nGétal contains a theme of active magic. The possible value of cétal meaning "charm" is an obvious reference to magical practice, but as we saw with corrguinecht, either word has connections to magic.

It is well-documented that the pre-Modern Irish relied on healing charms to safeguard their health. Many families would brag of having a "cure" to something or another, and these magical formulas could be used as currency to barter and build alliances. The Duchas National Folklore collection has over 21,000 entries for "cure," and herbal medicines and natural remedies are named alongside charms, with charms receiving a lot more praise. There's no question that healing was seen—at least sometimes—as a magical practice.

Crannogham:

While often overemphasized, the trees chosen to pair with each Ogham fid can still give insight into the cultural understanding of the feda. The crannogham (tree-Ogham) for nGétal are different depending on the source, offering three—really, four—possible plants, none of them exactly trees. Its mostly commonly known is gilcach/giolcach ("broom" or "reed"), but also associated are raith ("fern") and rait ("bog-myrtle"), which could've been understandably confused for one another.

Both bog-myrtle and fern have disinfectant and medicinal properties. Burnt ferns are useful for bleaching and soap-making. Fern was used as a tonic or applied to sprained ankles. Bracken fern could be used to cheaply fill mattresses or thatch roofs, which we will discuss are also uses of reeds/rushes and broom. Bog myrtle was strewn on the ground to be an insect repellent and air freshener.

It's traditionally thought that the plant referred to as gilcach within the crannogham is meant to refer to the broom, rather than reed. That being said, there is no direct evidence for this, and it is worth considering either plant as the originally chosen symbol. It is also possible that both were meant to be associated with nGétal, as the medieval Welsh poem about trees, Cad Goddeu, places the broom and reed together. The Welsh language does not use the same word for reed and broom, so this could point to an original Celtic connection between the two. Interestingly, the Cad Goddeu describes the broom as lying broken in the ditch before the war, which adds to a possible wounded dimension to broom.

Reeds are considered by the Scottish to be cursed, as they carried the sponge given to Jesus on the cross. The sponge was soaked in "vinegar and gall [myrrh]," which was a common drug given to the crucified to dull their pain. For Jesus, any lessening of the suffering would defeat the point, so he turned down this offering of compassion. Regardless of the outcome and political view of this procedure, it is another connection between a symbol used for nGétal and a gesture of healing.

Rushes are seen as a sister plant to reeds, as they have a similar function and both grow by water and in wet areas. The word gilcach also has been used in reference to rushes. Reeds are considered the prime material for thatching roofs and mats, but rushes are used as well. Interestingly, broom twigs are sometimes used as a substitute for reeds, being also useful for thatching and making fences. Rushes had many other uses, from providing beds to being laid on the ground to make a clean welcome for guests. Rushes are the rent paid to Manannán mac Lir on the Isle of Man, and many tales describe spreading rushes on the ground to greet Him. This welcome of rushes is also a tradition to greet St Brigid every Imbolc.

Rushes also have a lot of connections to healing. In the Táin Bó Cúailgne, after Cú Chulainn and Ferdia fought each other every day, they would heal their wounds by sleeping on a bed of green rushes each night, and in another tale, the only way the king of the Otherworld's daughter could rest and heal from her sickness was by sleeping on a bed of rushes. It was also said that the juice of nine rushes growing by a holy well could heal the affliction of the féar gorta ("hungry grass"), and this connection between rushes and wells is repeated in the lore. King Eochaid, who gave his eye to the poet Ferchertne, was able to heal his blindness by washing in a healing well that was brought forth by pulling a clump of rushes out of the ground. This motif of a healing well springing forth after plucking rushes is repeated in the hagiographies of both St Patrick and St Brigid. Rushes were also used as folk medicine for quite a few medical problems, including jaundice, shingles, and ringworm.

In Scotland, the broom was particularly associated with fertility. When it bore many flowers, it was seen as a sign of plenty. The flowering blossoms were considered unlucky to use for everyday things; it was cautioned never to sweep with a blossomed broom in May. After a wedding, a bridal staff of broom was kept in the bride’s house overnight to promote fertility.

Also called gilcach, broom is so-named for the fact that it was used to make the brush end of brooms. Along with nGétal's root words, this plant has a lot of cultural connections to magic. A broom, or besom, was used every night to sweep the home, and then propped up against the door for protection throughout the night. Broom is also one of the possible woods (birch, hazel, willow, or broom) for Brighid’s white wand, used in Imbolc rituals. Brighid is highly associated with healing as well. Broom was also burnt as a fumigate to cleanse homes. It was also used in Irish traditional medicine. It was used as a disinfectant, and could be taken as a tonic for liver, kidney, and heart conditions. Broom tops were commonly fed to sheep, as they were said to prevent rot or dropsy; though it also had a narcotic effect on the sheep—causing them to become excited and then stupefied. All of these facts point to the complex meanings of nGétal, wounding and magical healing.

Common, or Scotch Broom is a fascinating part of the plant world and greater ecosystem. It is often the first plant to grow on sand dunes, as its roots will intertwine with the roots of sand-binding plants; their strong, interlacing root systems are frequently what is holding up a bank. It is a hardy plant that will flourish in many atmospheres, growing in most soil and tolerant of sea-spray. They are often planted alongside shrubs grown for crops, as they will shelter the other plants from the wind until they have a chance to become established.

Broom is an excellent choice for the main meaning of nGétal, as it had quite a few medicinal uses known to physicians in the Middle Ages. It was featured in the London Pharmacopoeia of 1618, and it is still included in the British Pharmacopoeia. It is said to be good for dropsy, jaundice, gout, sciatica, pain in the hips and joints, and liver stones. Broom acts as both a diuretic and a cathartic, which is useful for many of these afflictions. Some doctors would use Salts of Broom, which was made by burning the tops of broom until they were ash, and then infused it in wine. Its seeds were also used in medicine, but now are known to be ineffective. Common Broom is now known to be slightly toxic, containing alkaloids that can depress the heart and nervous system. It’s interesting how it can be both a medicine and a poison, like a lot of herbal remedies; just as nGétal is about both healing and wounding.

Other Lists:

Broom is inherently connected to the inherent properties of nGétal—through sound and violence, of a type. It has a curious method of pollination. When a bee lands on its flower, the five short anthers inside explode, releasing the style and sending pollen onto the bee. Now that its released, the style curls up, forming a spiral, and then springs up to strike the back of the bee. This allows a large amount of pollen to gather on the bee, enabling effective fertilization. Broom also grows seed pods that burst open, causing a loud cracking sound. This sound is said to be why the Virgin cursed the plant; while fleeing, Mary and Joseph brushed as against broom plants, causing crackling sounds from the pods, which risked drawing the attention of their pursuers. The violent actions, and a loud sound, that allow germination and fertilization is a resonant symbol for nGétal.

There are quite a few more association lists for the Ogham, other than simply the crannogham. The enogham means “bird-Ogham,” and the bird connected to nGétal is ngéigh—the goose. Geese are viciously aggressive to any outsider on their territory, and are often the guard of their farm. They are not afraid to use violence, or any other resource at their disposal, to protect their own, and sometimes just because. In Ireland, wild geese are seen as both fish and fowl, given their home on the seashore. Dual classification is a good match for dual meanings of nGétal. Wild geese were also used a portent of weather to come, as their early arrival meant a prolonged and severe winter. When they cackled loudly or flew close to the ground, it was a sign of rain; flying high or out to sea was a sign of good weather; and flying a long distance meant a coming storm. Also, a goose beating their wings on their stomach and sticking their neck out was a sign of a storm incoming.

Geese were used in a common folk cure, where the patient would put the goose’s beak in their mouth, and inhale its breath. There’s a tale that tells of St. Kevin healing a pet goose, in different circumstances depending on the source, in exchange for some land. Julius Caesar wrote of the Celts of Britain, saying that they had a taboo against eating geese, and their bones have been found in funerary offerings around Gaul. There’s no telling if this belief made it to the Gaelic countries, as we have plenty of evidence of the eating of geese. Whether geese were ever seen by the Gaels as spiritually important or not, they definitely were connected to healing in different ways.

I have summed up nGétal’s complex, dual meaning with the keyword “purge.” Purging is removing harmful influences, which can be used in a medical context, or just generally. One can purge the other side of soldiers on a battlefield, just as one can purge a stomach of poison. Purging can have a very negative medical connotation, as well, in the context of eating disorders, while it can have a positive practical context, such as purging water of impurities or purging a device of unwanted files. Interestingly, broom has purgative qualities, being used in medicine as both a diuretic and a cathartic. In addition, to purge is to cleanse or purify, which was another key use of the broom—in fumigation and as a disinfectant. I have chosen "purge" as a keyword for nGétal, not only as it has connotations of both medicine and battle, but also because it encapsulates the combination of the two–a medical cure using necessary violence.

Another association list for nGétal is the dathogham, meaning “colour-Ogham.” The colour associated with our fid is glas, which doesn’t have a direct translation into English. Glas is somewhere between blue, green, and grey, as it is the colour of the sea. Its root meaning is “cold,” and it has figurative connotations of “young/fresh” or “sickly” or “neutral,” giving glas opposing meanings. It is commonly used to mean “pale,” and as so, is used to describe the skin of anyone unwell. Glas is associated with the westerly-southwest wind, which is interesting given that the Irish associate the afterlife, and to some extent the Otherworld, with the southwest direction. The colour association for nGétal can be understood as pointing to sickness, death, health, and liminality.

Healing, as well as poetry, exists between life and death, in the spaces between land and water (wells), in this world and the Other. Healing through poetry is a well-worn tradition in Ireland, even as other magical verse charms have fallen out of use. There is much evidence to associate nGétal with this type of healing, just as it likely means “the act of wounding.” There is an intrinsic, interdependent relationship of healer and wound. nGétal exists in the liminal space between different states, acting as an active agent to transition us from health to almost-death, and then from this injury or sickness, back into life.

ᚐᚏ ᚍᚓᚈᚐᚂ

[caraecethrae]

Irish LGBT+ Content

These lists include LGBT pieces set in Ireland, LGBT pieces with Irish main characters, LGBT pieces as Gaeilge, and LGBT pieces created by Irish people, often they overlap but not always. Feel free to suggest things I ought to add or offer corrections for mistakes I've made.

Please note that the inclusion on this list does not mean I recommend the piece in question - I am familiar with only a few.

Where possible links lead to RTÉ player, TG4 player, YouTube or official sites. Not all links lead to pieces that are available to watch at the time of posting.

Television:

Eipic (2016) [gay, as G]

Derry Girls [lesbian]

Ros na Rún [soap, as G]

Fair City [soap, trans m briefly]

6Degrees [mlm, NI]

Film:

Pigs (1983) [gay]

The Crying Game (1992)

Bent Out of Shape (1995)

The Last Bus Home (1998) [gay]

About Adam (2000)

Cowboys and Angels (2003)

Goldfish Memory (2003)

The Blackwater Lightship (2004) [based off book below]

Breakfast on Pluto (2005) [trans f]

Albert Nobbs (2011) [trans m]

Viva (2015) [mlm, Irish writer/director only, in Spanish]

A Date For Mad Mary (2026) [wlw]

Handsome Devil (2017) [gay, mlm]

Papi Chulo (2019) [gay, Irish writer/director only]

Rialto (2019) [mlm]

Dating Amber (2020) [gay, lesbian]

Shorts:

Dream Kitchen (1999)

Chicken (2002)

Lúbtha (2019) [mlm]

The First Saturday of May (2019) [trans]

Scene from the Men's Toilets at a Ceilidh (2019)

OUT (2020)

Candid (2020)

Libre (2022)

Punch Line (trans f)

Boxed In (trans m)

Cailín Álainn [trans f, as G]

Where Do All The Old Gays Go? [trans]

Homebird [trans]

Books:

Adult:

Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu (1872) [wlw, Irish writer only]

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (1890) [mlm, outside Ireland]

As Music and Splendour by Kate O'Brien (1958) [wlw, outside Ireland]

"Sister Imelda" by Edna O'Brien (1981) [wlw, short story]

A Noise from the Woodshed by Mary Dorcey (1989) [lesbian, anthology]

The Kiss by Linda Cullen (1990)

When Love Comes to Town by Tom Lennon (1993) [gay]

Hood by Emma Donoghue (1995) [wlw]

Biography of Desire by Mary Dorcey (1997) [wlw]

Breakfast On Pluto by Patrick McCabe (1998) [trans f, bi]

Crazy Love by Tom Lennon (1999) [gay]

The Blackwater Lightship by Colm Tóibín (1999) [gay]

The International by Glenn Patterson (1999) [bi]

At Swim, Two Boys by Jamie O'Neill (2001) [mlm]

A Son Called Gabriel by Damian McNicholl (2004) [NI, gay]

The Master by Colm Tóibín (2004) [mlm, Irish writer only]

Stir-Fry by Emma Donoghue (2006) [wlw]

Landing by Emma Donoghue (2007) [wlw]

Map of Ireland by Stephanie Grant (2008) [wlw, Irish-American]

Falling Colours: The Misadventures of a Vision Painter by R.J. Samuel (2012) [wlw]

The Rarest Rose by I. Beacham (2013) [wlw, Irish character, non-Irish writer]

Arimathea by Frank McGuinness (2013)

To Summon Nightmares by J.K. Pendragon (2014) [trans, mlm]

Carolyn for Christmas by Lucy Carey (2015) [lesbian]

The Accident Season by Moïra Fowley-Doyle (2015) [bi, lesbian]

The Green Road by Anne Enright (2015) [gay]

Wormwood Gate by Katherine Farmar (2015) [wlw]

Days Without End by Sebastian Barry (2016) [mlm, outside Ireland]

Eelgrass by Tori Curtis (2016) [wlw, Irish myth inspired only?, non-Irish writer]

Spare and Found Parts by Sarah Maria Griffin (2016)

All the Bad Apples by Moïra Fowley-Doyle (2017)

Forget Me Not by Kris Bryant (2017) [wlw]

The Art of Three by Erin McRae & Racheline Maltese (2017) [bi, polyam, Irish character, non-Irish writers]

The Heart's Invisible Furies by John Boyne (2017) [gay]

The Spellbook of Lost and Found by Moïra Fowley-Doyle (2017) [wlw]

My Brother's Name Is Jessica by John Boyne (2019) [trans f]

The Pull of the Stars by Emma Donoghue (2020) [wlw]

Exciting Times by Naoise Dolan (2021) [bi f, wlw]

Where I End by Sophie White (2022) [wlw]

Eyes Guts Throat Bones (2023) by Moïra Fowley [lesbian, queer]

Long Live Evil by Sarah Rees Brennan (2023) [bi]

Wild Geese by Soula Emmanuel (2023) [trans f]

Hunger by Fran Quinn (2025) [wlw]

Eat the Ones You Love by Sarah Maria Griffin (2025) [wlw, queer]

Young Adult:

A Good Hiding by Shirley-Anne McMillan (2016) [NI, gay]

The Unknowns by Shirley-Anne McMillan (2017) [NI, bi m, bi f]

Other Words for Smoke by Sarah Maria Griffin (2019) [lesbian]

All the Bad Apples by Moïra Fowley-Doyle (2019)

Every Sparrow Falling by Shirley-Anne McMillan (2019) [NI, mlm]

Perfectly Preventable Deaths (2019) and Precious Catastrophe (2021) by Deirdre Sullivan [wlw]

The Falling in Love Montage by Ciara Smyth (2020) [wlw]

The Henna Wars by Adiba Jaigirdar (2020) [lesbian]

Queen of Coin and Whisper (2020) and Daughter of Winter and Twilight (2023) by Helen Corcoran [wlw]

All Our Hidden Gifts (trilogy) by Caroline O'Donoghue (2021) [nb, queer]

Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating by Adiba Jaigirdar (2021) [bi f, wlw]

Not My Problem by Ciara Smyth (2021)

What Love Looks Like by Jarlath Gregory (2021) [gay]

The Dos and Donuts of Love by Adiba Jaigirdar (2023) [wlw]

Wise Creatures by Deirdre Sullivan (2023) [queer, bisexual, nonbinary LI]

What Walks These Halls (trilogy) by Amy Clarkin (2023) [bi, lesbian, asexual, wlw]

The Undetectables (trilogy) by Courtney Smyth (2023) [bi, lesbian, gay, nb, trans f, trans m]

Rani Choudhurry Must Die by Adiba Jaigirdar (2024) [wlw]

Children’s:

Our Big Day by Bob Johnston, illustrated by Michael Emberley [picture book, ages 3-7]

Gut Feelings by CG Moore

Why the Moon Travels by Oein DeBhairdunn, illustrated by Leanne McDonagh [Minceir/Traveller tales]

The Real Rebecca (series) by Anna Carey (2021) [age 11+]

Poetry:

Green Carnations/Glas na Gile edited by John Ennis & Moxie Lofton (2021)

Queering the Green: Post-2000 Queer Irish Poetry edited by Paul Maddern (2021)

Plays:

Whistling Pysche / Fred and Jane by Sebastian Barry (2004) [trans m / wlw?]

The Beacon by Nancy Harris (2019) [bi f, bi m]

Comics and Graphic Novels:

Sapphowoman and the Greater Belfast Dykes by Gaye Mae Kincaid (1989)

Heartstopper by Alice Oseman, translated by Eoin McEvoy, (also done by @heartstopper-i-ngaeilge) (2024) [mlm, wlw, as G only, graphic novel]

Nonfiction:

Please be aware especially for this section that the pieces listed may be upsetting or cover difficult topics.

Print:

The Strange Story of Dr James Barry by Isobel Rae (1958) [biography: Barry, trans m]

The Perfect Gentleman by June Rose (1977) [biography: Barry, trans m]

Out For Ourselves: The Lives of Irish Lesbians and Gay Men, published by the Dublin Lesbian and Gay Men's Collective (1986)

GCN Magazine archive (1988-1998 so far)

Love In a Dark Time: Gay Lives from Wilde to Almodóvar by Colm Tóibín (2002) [essay collection]

The Secret Life of Dr James Barry by Rachel Holmes (2002/2020) [biography: Barry, trans m]

Terrible Queer Creatures: Homosexuality in Irish History by Brian Lacey (2008)

Our Lives Out Loud: In Pursuit of Justice and Equality by Katherine Zappone & Ann Louise Gilligan (2008) [autobiography, wlw]

Queer & Celtic edited by Wesley J Koster (2013) [anthology]

Running Amach in Ireland: True Stories by LGBTQ Women edited by Maureen Looney (2016) [essay anthology]

Dr James Barry: A Woman Ahead of Her Time by Michael du Preez and Jeremy Dronfield (2016) [biography: Barry, trans m]

Wild Irish Women (2001) and Wild Irish Love: Great Romances from History (2022) by Marian Broderick [historical snippets; questionable sources]

Reeling in the Queers: Tales of Ireland’s LGBTQ Past by Páraic Kerrigan (2024)

Screen:

A Different Country (2017) [pre-1993 documentary]

The Queen of Ireland (2015) [Panti Bliss]

The 34th (2017) [marriage equality]

Outitude (2018) [lesbian documentary]

Tabú: Tras (2020) [trans m, trans f, as G]

Tír na mBeo - The Land of the Living (2022) [post-COVID documentary]

How To Tell A Secret (2022) [HIV documentary]

Difriúil, dir. John Farelly (2022) [as G, mlm]

Seal le Dáithí - Niamh Ní Féineadh (2023) [as G, trans f]

Scéalta Grá na hÉireann: Eleanor Butler & Sarah Ponsonby (2023) [as G, wlw]

Misneach: Ceist Bhróid (2023) [as G, gay]

Croíthe Radacacha (2023) [as G, wlw]

Aiteach Ní Aisteach [as G, queer]

Get That Monster Off The Stage (2024) [audio-visual documentary about Finbarr Donnelly]

Mise, by the Donegal LGBTQ+ Heritage Project (2024) [as G]

[caraecethrae]

Eshkachech being sung with cave acoustics??!

[caraecethrae]

Norman Lindsay (1879–1969), “The Little Witch”

etching, engraving and stipple, n.d.

source

[caraecethrae]

The Islander

Jamie Wyeth (1046-)

American Artist

[caraecethrae]

Alex Carver (American, 1984) - The Skin Bridges (Donor Site) (2023)

[caraecethrae]

“We often forget that we are nature. Nature is not something separate from us. So when we say that we have lost our connection to nature, we’ve lost our connection to ourselves.” Andy Goldsworthy is a land artist and photographer renowned for his ephemeral, site-specific installations made from natural materials such as ice, rocks, sand, and branches. Created with an acute awareness of the landscape’s inherent changes, his sculptures intentionally blur the lines between art and nature. Andy’s transient works are photographed only once, right after they’re created, and explore the passage of time and our relationship with nature, emphasising the impermanence of life and the continuous interplay between human creativity and the natural world.

[caraecethrae]

Breaking my hiatus to bring everyone’s attention to the fact that Cornwall is now attempting to be officially recognised as a nation within the United Kingdom.

Kernow has its own language, culture, history and identity. The language was forcibly removed by the English until the last monolingual speaker died in 1777–her name was Dolly Pentreath. It has existed as a kingdom before England had ever existed. Historically, Cornwall has been a place exploited for minerals and resources and labour. Currently, it still is. There are now ghost towns where once thriving fishing villages stood (Mousehole, Pentreath’s home, was one of these). Cornwall is now a playground for second home owners who drive up house and rent prices and drive out permanent residents and workers. Local businesses go out of business and struggle to stay afloat when the influx of tourists come who only purchase from supermarkets, putting nothing into the local economy. There is a long, long and often very gruesome and bloody history behind this—leaders of rebellions executed all the way into 1715.

If you are in the UK, and sign the petition to get this to a debate in Parliament.

Can you spare 60 seconds to sign

[caraecethrae]

"We experience the romance and delight of voyaging upon uncharted seas when the imagination is released from the foolish notion that the images seen in reverie and dream are merely the images of memory refashioned; and in tracking to their originals the forms seen in vision we discover for them a varied ancestry, as that some come from the minds of others, and of some we cannot surmise another origin than that they are portions of the memory of Earth which is accessible to us. We soon grow to think our memory but a portion of that eternal memory and that we in our lives are gathering an innumerable experience for a mightier being than our own. The more vividly we see with the inner eye the more swiftly do we come to this conviction. Those who see vaguely are satisfied with vague explanations which those who see vividly at once reject as inadequate."

The Candle of Vision by AE (George William Russell), 1918, at sacred-texts.com

[caraecethrae]

may 2025 • pompeii

[caraecethrae]

"I know that my brain is a court where many living creatures throng, and I am never alone in it. You, too, can know that if you heighten the imagination and intensify the will. The darkness in you will begin to glow, and you will see clearly, and you will know that what you thought was but a mosaic of memories is rather the froth of a gigantic ocean of life, breaking on the shores of matter, casting up its own flotsam to mingle with the life of the shores it breaks on. If you will light your lamp you can gaze far over that ocean and even embark on it. Sitting in your chair you can travel farther than ever Columbus travelled and to lordlier worlds than his eyes had rested on. Are you not tired of surfaces? Come with me and we will bathe in the Fountains of Youth. I can point you the way to El Dorado."

The Candle of Vision, by AE (George William Russell), [1918], at sacred-texts.com

"...I know from questioning many people that it is common with them before they sleep to see faces, while their eyes are closed, and they are, as they think, alone. These faces are sometimes the faces of imps who frown at them, put out their tongues at them, grin or gibber. Sometimes not a face but a figure, or figures, will be seen which, like the faces, seem endowed with life. To call this imagination or fancy is to explain nothing because the explanation is not explained. The more one concentrates on these most trivial mental apparitions, the more certain do we feel they have a life of their own, and that our brain is as full of living creatures as our body is thronged with tiny cells, each a life, or as the blood may swarm with bacteria. I draw attention to the mystery in obvious and common things, and ask that they be explained and not slurred over as if no explanation were necessary."

The Candle of Vision, by AE (George William Russell), [1918], at sacred-texts.com