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UNVEILING TEN FASCINATING FACTS ABOUT THE PHOUKA MYTH

The Phouka is a mischievous creature from Irish mythology, known for its shape-shifting abilities and capricious nature. Despite its tendency to play pranks on humans, the Phouka remains a beloved figure in Irish folklore. 

Ten Fascinating Facts About the Phouka Myth:

• The Phouka is a shapeshifter that can take on many forms, including a black horse, a goat, a dog, and a goblin.

• The name “Phouka” comes from the Irish word “púca,” which means “spirit” or “ghost.”

• The Phouka is said to be the most powerful of all the Irish fairies, with the ability to control the elements and change the weather.

• The Phouka is a solitary creature and often appears in the wilderness or remote areas.

• The Phouka has a mischievous and unpredictable nature, and it enjoys playing tricks on humans such as leading them astray or causing them to lose their way in the woods.

• Despite its reputation for causing mischief, the Phouka is not an evil creature and is sometimes known to help humans in need.

• In some versions of the myth, the Phouka is said to be able to grant wishes, but its gifts often come with unexpected consequences.

• The Phouka is closely associated with Samhain, the ancient Irish festival that marks the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter.

• In some parts of Ireland, it is believed that the Phouka can bring good luck to farmers and their crops.

• The Phouka has inspired many works of literature and art, including W.B. Yeats’ poem “The Phouka,” and Brian Froud’s illustrations for the book “Faeries.”

The Phouka myth is a fascinating and complex part of Irish folklore. From its shape-shifting abilities to its mischievous nature, the Phouka remains an important figure in Irish culture to this day. Whether you encounter the Phouka as a black horse on a misty moor or as a playful goblin in the woods, one thing is certain: this spirit of the wild is not to be trifled with, but rather respected and admired for its power and its mystery.

THE SPIRIT HORSE

The tale of Morty Sullivan stands as a cautionary tale for young men everywhere, urging them to embrace a life of modesty and sobriety at home rather than embarking on heedless journeys. At the tender age of fourteen, Morty fled from his honorable parents, who were a profoundly respectable elderly couple. Their eyes were awash with tears shed on his behalf. Regrettably, it’s said that both of them suffered broken hearts due to his departure. The only tidbit they ever gleaned about his fate was his embarkation on a ship bound for America.

Three decades later, long after the aged couple had been laid to rest, a stranger arrived in Beerhaven, inquiring about Morty’s parents. Astonishingly, it was Morty himself who had returned. Truth be told, a profound melancholy seemed to fill his heart upon learning of his parent’s demise, but such an outcome was to be expected. Often, remorse arrives when its influence holds little sway.

As a form of reparation for his transgressions, Morty Sullivan received counsel to undertake a pilgrimage to the sacred chapel of Saint Gobnate. This chapel resided in an untamed enclave known as Ballyvourney.

With eagerness, he embraced this task and wasted no time, setting forth on his journey the very same afternoon. After covering a few miles, the onset of the evening began to cast its shadow. However, no moonlight graced the sky, and the starry radiance was veiled behind a dense fog creeping up from the valleys. His path wound through a hilly terrain, riddled with crisscrossing trails and hidden byways. For a stranger like Morty, navigating this labyrinthine landscape proved challenging without a guide. Despite his determination to reach his intended destination promptly, the fog grew progressively thicker, sowing doubt about whether the route he followed truly led to the revered chapel of Saint Gobnate.

Yet, amid his uncertainty, a distant light caught Morty’s eye, seeming not too far off. Enticed by its glow, he directed his steps toward it. Curiously, as he advanced, the light transformed, shifting to a distant, faint twinkle within the dense fog. Morty was taken aback by this phenomenon, yet his spirit remained unshaken. He nurtured the belief that this enigmatic light was a divine beacon, dispatched by the holy Saint Gobnate herself. Its purpose, he surmised, was to guide his footfalls across the rugged mountains and lead him to her sacred chapel.

So Morty journeyed onward, covering many a mile, under the impression that the light drawing him near was a constant companion. Yet, time and again, the light would abruptly surge to a distant horizon. Eventually, he drew near enough to discern that this elusive light was emanating from a fire. Seated beside it was an elderly woman. At this sight, Morty’s steadfast conviction wavered, and a rush of wonder overcame him. He found himself pondering how both the fire and the old woman could undertake the arduous journey before him, traversing countless wearisome miles and navigating such uneven paths.

“In the sacred names of the virtuous Gobnate and her mentor, Saint Abban,” Morty questioned aloud, “How can this blazing fire advance with such speed before me? And who might this old woman be, seated beside this fire in motion?”

Scarcely had these words escaped Morty’s lips when, without taking another stride, he found himself near the mesmerizing fire. There, beside it, sat the elderly woman, engrossed in her supper. With each movement of her jaws, her eyes bore into Morty’s being with a fierce intensity, as if his presence was an unwelcome intrusion. To his amazement, her eyes were not of the usual black, blue, gray, or hazel hues that grace human eyes. Instead, they burned with a wild red hue akin to a ferret’s gaze. While his earlier wonder was reserved for the fire, his astonishment now intensified at the appearance of this woman.

Despite his resolute nature, a shadow of fear coursed through Morty as he regarded her. He couldn’t shake the intuition that her secluded supper at such a late hour, near midnight, and in such an isolated spot, boded ill intentions. Amid this eerie silence, her lips remained sealed as she continued to munch away. Morty’s gaze remained fixed upon her, equally silent.

Finally, the old crone broke the silence with a gruff demand, a sulfurous puff escaping her mouth, her nostrils flaring, and her eyes growing even redder than before as she posed her question, “What might be your name?”

Summoning every ounce of his bravery, Morty spoke up, “Morty Sullivan, at your service,” he replied, intending the latter phrase as a mere courtesy.

“Ubbubbo!” exclaimed the old woman, her words laden with an eerie resonance, “We shall test that shortly.” As she spoke, the fiery red hue of her eyes transformed into a ghastly pale green. Despite Morty’s inherent boldness and fearlessness, his very being quivered in the wake of this dread-inducing utterance. He felt an impulse to fall upon his knees and beseech the intervention of Saint Gobnate, or any other saint for that matter – he was not choosy at the moment. However, the grip of horror was so paralyzing that he couldn’t even muster the smallest movement, let alone kneel.

“Grasp my hand, Morty,” the old woman instructed, “I will provide you with a horse to ride, one that will hasten you to your destination.” With these words, she proceeded forward, the fire leading the way. By means unfathomable to the human realm, the fire advanced, casting out vibrant tongues of flame that flickered with an intense ferocity.

Before long, they arrived at a natural cavern nestled into the mountain’s flank. In a jarring, dissonant voice, the old hag called out for her steed. In an instant, a pitch-black horse emerged from the cavern’s somber confines, its hooves striking the rocky floor with a sepulchral resonance that reverberated through the air.

“Mount, Morty, mount!” she cried, her strength surpassing the natural realm, as she forcibly hoisted him onto the horse’s back. Morty, realizing that human strength was futile against her otherworldly grip, murmured, “Oh, if only I had spurs!” He attempted to clutch the horse’s mane, but his grasp found only emptiness. Yet, despite this, an unseen force upheld him, and the horse surged ahead, leaping off fearsome precipices, hurdling over the rugged beds of torrents, and tearing through the mountains like a tempestuous midnight storm.

Upon the following morning, a group of pilgrims who had journeyed to Gougane Barra came upon Morty Sullivan. They found him lying on his back beneath a cliff, the very spot where the Phooka had cast him. The fall had left Morty battered and bruised. As the story goes, in that very moment, he swore a solemn oath, invoking the hand of O’Sullivan, a formidable pledge indeed. He vowed never again to undertake a pilgrimage with a full quart bottle of whiskey in his possession.

MORTY’S MYSTERIOUS MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE

Once upon a time, there was a young boy named Morty Sullivan. He was full of curiosity and adventure. One day, when he was just fourteen years old, he decided to leave his home and go on a journey far away. His parents were sad and worried, but Morty was determined to see the world.

Morty’s journey took him through a land of hills and valleys. He walked for a long time, and as the sun started to set, a thick fog rolled in, making it hard to see. Morty felt a little scared, but he kept going. He wanted to reach his destination quickly.

In the distance, Morty saw a mysterious light. It seemed to be guiding him, so he followed it. However, every time he got close to the light, it would move farther away. Morty was puzzled but kept walking, determined to find out what was happening.

Finally, he reached the source of the light and saw an old woman sitting by a fire. The woman’s eyes were not like normal human eyes; they were a strange red color. Morty was surprised and a little scared by her appearance. He wondered why she was out there by herself in the middle of the night.

The old woman spoke to Morty and asked for his name. When he told her he was Morty Sullivan, she seemed to change somehow. Her eyes turned a different color, and Morty felt a shiver down his spine.

The old woman offered Morty her hand and promised to give him a special horse to continue his journey. Morty was both curious and cautious, but he took her hand. Suddenly, they were moving, with the fire leading the way. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before – the fire was moving with them!

They came to a dark cave on the side of a mountain, and the old woman called for her horse. A jet-black horse appeared, and Morty could hear its hooves echoing in the cave. The woman helped Morty onto the horse’s back, and without warning, they were off!

The horse raced through the night, leaping over cliffs and streams. Morty held on tight, amazed by the adventure he had stumbled into. But then, the horse suddenly stopped, and Morty was thrown off its back. He tumbled down a steep slope and was left bruised and sore.

The next morning, some pilgrims found Morty and helped him. He realized he had been on a wild and magical journey with the strange old woman and her fire. From that day on, Morty learned to be more careful and not to go on risky adventures without thinking.

And so, Morty’s story became a cautionary tale, reminding everyone, especially young folks, to think twice before chasing after the unknown and to remember that sometimes, staying close to home is the wisest choice of all.

MORTY’S MYSTERIOUS MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE

Welcome to a world of adventure and mystery! Tonight, we present to you a tale that will take you on a journey through fog-covered valleys, lead you to a firelight with an enigmatic old woman, and carry you on the back of a magical horse. Get ready to join our young hero, Morty Sullivan, as he discovers that sometimes, the greatest adventures come with unexpected lessons.

CHARACTERS:

NARRATOR

MORTY SULLIVAN

MORTY’S PARENTS

OLD WOMAN

PILGRIM 1

PILGRIM 2

SCRIPT:

Scene 1: Morty’s Home

NARRATOR: Once upon a time, in a cozy village, lived a curious and adventurous boy named Morty Sullivan.

MORTY: (Excitedly) I want to explore the world beyond our village!

MORTY’S PARENTS:  But Morty, it’s dangerous out there! We’re sad to see you go.

MORTY:  Don’t worry Mom and Dad, I will be fine.

Scene 2: On the Journey

NARRATOR: Morty set off on his journey, walking through hills and valleys.

MORTY: (Determined) I’m not afraid! I want to see what’s out there!

Scene 3: Foggy Evening

NARRATOR: As the sun began to set, a thick fog covered the land.

MORTY: (Nervous) This fog is making it hard to see. But I won’t give up!

Scene 4: The Mysterious Light

NARRATOR: In the distance, Morty spotted a mysterious light.

MORTY: (Curious) That light seems to be guiding me. I’ll follow it!

Scene 5: Meeting the Old Woman

NARRATOR: Morty followed the light until he found an old woman sitting by a fire.

OLD WOMAN: (Mysterious) What’s your name, young traveler?

MORTY: (Nervously) I’m Morty Sullivan.

OLD WOMAN: (Changing) Ubbubbo! Let’s see about that.

Scene 6: The Magical Journey

NARRATOR: The old woman offered Morty her hand, and suddenly, they were moving, with the fire leading the way.

MORTY: (Amazed) This is incredible! The fire is moving with us!

Scene 7: The Dark Cave

NARRATOR: They arrived at a dark cave in the mountains, where the old woman summoned a black horse.

OLD WOMAN: (Calling out) Come forth, my horse!

Scene 8: The Wild Ride

NARRATOR: Morty was placed on the horse’s back, and they raced through the night, jumping over obstacles.

MORTY: (Excited) This is the craziest ride ever!

Scene 9: The Fall

NARRATOR: Suddenly, the horse stopped, and Morty was thrown off, tumbling down a steep slope.

MORTY: (Hurt) Ouch! That was unexpected.

Scene 10: A New Day

NARRATOR: The next morning, pilgrims found Morty and helped him.

PILGRIM 1: Are you alright, young traveler?

MORTY: (Reflective) I’ve learned that adventures can be risky.

Scene 11: Lessons Learned

NARRATOR: Morty realized his journey was a cautionary tale.

MORTY: (Thoughtful) Sometimes, it’s best to think twice before chasing the unknown.

NARRATOR: And so, our story comes to an end, reminding us that every adventure, no matter how thrilling, can teach us valuable lessons. Morty Sullivan learned that chasing the unknown can lead to surprises, both wonderful and challenging. Through fog and fire, up hills and down valleys, Morty’s journey taught him the importance of thinking twice before diving into the unfamiliar. So, dear friends, as you leave the theater tonight, remember Morty’s tale and the wisdom he gained. Adventures await us all, but let’s always be prepared to learn, to grow, and to embrace the unexpected twists that life brings our way.

The End

AUTHOR: FAIRY LEGENDS AND TRADITIONS OF THE SOUTH OF IRELAND

ADAPTED BY: K I D S I N C O

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