Pagan Portals – The Dagda: Meeting
the Good God of Ireland
Morgan Daimler (2018)
It’s strange to feel so excited to
read a book that has actually been waiting in my bedside cabinet for nearly two
years. But that’s how it is. And now that I have now finally read The Dagda,
I can’t stop raving about it. It is a jewel on my bookshelf.
Pagan Portals – The Dagda is far from the first book I’ve
read by Morgan Daimler, nor will it be the last. They have become one of my favourite authors
for a few simple reasons: their
research is meticulous, they draw together the important myths, gleaned
from early and modern
texts – they even taught
themself how to read old Irish because they wanted more than the translations
they had on hand were offering. Daimler has
a wonderful way of looking at things from a new angle, and this book continues
in that tradition.
I was looking forward to this book
in particular because I was drawn to The Dagda, personally. He drew me
initially by his own personality and his actions in the tales, particularly of his
building single-handed a fort for Bres, and carving out twelve plains in a one day.
But more important was his being father to the sisters Brigit. Because Brigit
is so important to me, I wanted to cultivate an acquaintance, at least, with
someone who helped shape these sisters as they grew.1
The
Pagan
Portals
series is devoted to short books
– up
to around a hundred pages
long – that are meant to
introduce the key elements
of a deity or topic. In this case the book is nearly eighty pages, and they
have divided the material up well. In chapter one, “Who is The Dagda?” they begin
by giving his names and the epithets that describe him, and address how a sense
of his nature can be drawn from them. This necessarily takes us into the myths
themselves, so although they don’t tell them exhaustively, they reveal enough
that we can understand why he might be called Eochaid Ollathair, and that “The
Dagda” means “The Good God.” But what does that mean? Does it mean he’s
a nice guy? Well, no. It means he is good at all things. So just the definition
of this one name, and he has many, tells us something important about him. This
initial chapter grounds us not only in his names, but in how he’s been
described physically in the tales, and gives a glimpse of his relationships with
others. (This is a complicated kettle of fish as he has many lovers, many
children, and his children, like himself, have run into real difficulties
because of some of those lovers).
One thing that Morgan always does
which I greatly appreciate, is they provide useful end notes to each chapter,
and provide a good bibliography. I can see where they’re getting their information
from; I don’t have to just trust them. I can then decide whether I agree with
their take on things, and that is important to me, especially in something so essential
as the nature of the deities.
The second chapter is “The Dagda in
Mythology.” Here they explore where The Dagda figures most prominently in the different texts. As they work
through these, his personality and what he may represent to the devotee become
more and more clearly defined, leading to an overall sense of what we know of
him. This chapter also has an interesting reassessment of
the Samhain sex
tryst between The Dagda and The
Morrigan.
Chapter three, “The Dagda’s Possessions and Associations,” continues
to draw together pieces of information that are far flung from each other in
the myths. Normally, you may read one tale today and another one never, and a
third two years from now, meaning the different elements don’t necessarily ever
come together in your mind. But when Daimler collects together his possessions –
his cauldron, from which no one goes away unsatisfied; the staff which can kill with one end and heal
with the other, and which he obtained in a less than honourable way when
searching for a means to revive his dead son; the harp, which
comes
to him when he calls out
to it and kills
whoever is in its path; as well as the various places, times, plants, and
animals with which he has had a special relationship, and then explains their
significance and their derivation, they present an infinitely more coherent whole
than when cobbled together over time, with its attendant failures of memory.
Daimler prevents all this from being
a purely intellectual exercise and ensures it is one of the spirit by writing
at the end of each chapter about The Dagda in their life. This can be a very
simple and practical few words or it can be quite profound. For instance, their
personal search for his symbolic cauldron gives insight into devotional practice, itself. Having the chance to read these
more intimate words helps me connect more meaningfully to him, myself. These
short personal sections illuminate further both our perceptions of the deity and
the evolution of religion in our lives, always with humility and insight.
Chapter four, “Good God of All Skills,”
is a beautiful chapter which shows the known range of the god who is capable of
so much more – of all things. It goes in
more depth into his nature – as a god who is both a giver of life and death, as
one of fire and the earth, who is associated with weather and crops. As a
warrior poet, musician, and king. His connection to farmers and workers, his role
as a grieving parent. These are the kinds of associations we might read in a
list and then forget immediately or work to connect them to our own lives, to
add meaning to them, to give them flesh. But in this short book Daimler manages
to bring out The Dagda in a more robust way than I have
read before. Their summary of their relationship to him as a child and then as
an adult,
and how many of his stories make him relatable through the range of their own life
experience, is touching. It reminds me of my experience with Brigid, which,
taking goddess and Saint together, has proven to be similarly comprehensive in
covering the range of my life. And
so my own appreciation of and affection for The Dagda grows as
I read.
“The Dagda in the Modern World,” chapter
five. I have to say that I very much enjoyed this chapter. Daimler covers a lot
in it with clarity and depth, both scholarly and personally. They begin by
addressing how he is seen today in modern mythologies, fiction, and video games,
which influence our perception of him just as the old texts do. As I was with
their similar chapter on Brigit in Pagan Portals – Brigid, I’m grateful
to them for tracing where our different ideas come from and comparing them to
what we know from the texts. They do this without rancour and accept that there
is validity in different approaches to him, but they value clarity on sources,
as do I. Daimler points out modern changes to the deities, which are often received
as traditional, in a clear and well supported way that insults no one. You may disagree
with them, but you know where they’re coming from.
They go on, equally gently, to ask
why our representations of him and the other deities nearly always include archaic
dress, pointing out that in the original tales, the depictions were of contemporary
clothes. They then discuss possible reasons for our choosing to stick with the
original dress and why it may also be helpful to envision him dressed as a modern
man. I found it useful to reflect on this section, and the ways I do and don’t
have visual pictures of the deities, and how that affects my relationship to
them. Daimler winds this chapter up with some good suggestions for altar
pieces, a few prayers and invocations, and more thoughts on The Dagda in their
life.
For the Brigidines among us, Morgan
does refer to Brigit in the book on a few occasions, helping to clarify both
her and her father. For instance, on page sixty-nine,
“Like
his daughter Brighid,
he is a deity of compromise and community building rather than burning to the
ground. When his son is killed by Lugh he’s seeks a way to
revivify his child, not destroy Lugh.”
In
their conclusion, they
say, “… The Dagda, in many ways, is exactly the deity that the world most needs
right now.” I suggest you read this short, powerful
book to see clearly just why.
Image by Mael Brigde
[1] Eel and Otter’s anthology, Harp
Club & Cauldron, is also very helpful in this venture, as is Scealai
Beag’s Facebook group of devotees and interested others, “The Dagda's Hearth.”
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