Dalua
Chapter 5 Dalua
When I was researching for this book, I took out my copy of Book of Thoth, like I do when I write about any card to make sure I cover certain main points and to stay on track. After all, a refresher every couple of years can’t hurt. When I saw a title in The Fool section called “Dalua, the ‘Great Fool’ of the Celts, I was excited. My heart leapt. I’m sure the name “Dalua” never meant much to me before, so I didn’t pay it any attention or even remember it. Now, I felt it was waiting for me, a date with destiny.
While writing my book about Netta Fornario, Dalua had become an interest of mine. That’s why it stood out this time. I admit I was surprised to see it mentioned in the Book of Thoth. It was like I was seeing it for the first time. However, after I quickly read the paragraphs following it, I frowned in disappointment. Crowley never mentioned Dalua or the Celts after the title, but we get a lecture about humanity requiring a “savior.” I wanted more info. Maybe I can associate that to Dalua and the Isle of Iona, where there is a legend about a future female savior, but that doesn’t seem satisfactory to me. I wanted more. And I certainly didn’t need or want a savior.
An excerpt from the Book of Thoth:
The "Great Fool" of the Celts (Dalua)
“The world is always looking for a saviour, and the doctrine in question is philosophically more than a doctrine; it is a plain fact. Salvation, whatever salvation may mean, is not to be obtained on any reasonable terms. Reason is an impasse, reason is damnation; only madness, divine madness, offers an issue…. There is only one thing in common among such persons; they are all mad, that is' inspired. Nearly all primitive people possess this tradition, at least in a diluted form. They respect the wandering lunatic, for it may be that he is the messenger of the Most High. “This queer stranger? Let us entreat him kindly. It may be that we entertain an angel unawares”.
Back to Dalua, which was never delved into like I had hoped, so I explored my own connections, as I tend to do.
My story: I wrote about Dalua, the Dark Fairy in The Immortal Hour of Netta Fornario. I saw Dalua as playing the Fool and guarding the threshold, and I’m seeing how that is familiar to Ghede’s role too.
Below is an excerpt:
“Written in 1899, The Immortal Hour is an examination of life, death, love and immortality. Based loosely on the Irish myth "The Wooing of Etain," the story describes the love of a mortal king, Eochaidh for an immortal fairy woman named Etain, who is reclaimed at the end of a year by her immortal lover, Midir, but a dark fairy named Dalua stands on the threshold between the worlds.”
In Mac Tyler’s (Netta’s pen name) words, “While this Celtic allegory may be interpreted to represent the return of Spring to the world from the enforced thraldom of Winter, It will be apparent to all students of esoteric cults that we have here a drama similar to those employed in the ancient mysteries, and that the reactions and interaction of Dalua, Etain, Eochaid, Midir, and the two peasants, symbolise the psychological and spiritual effects of initiation.”
Netta wrote, “Dalua is a composite figure, including many of the characteristics of Lucifer, Saturn and Pan. As Lucifer, he tempts Etain, even as the serpent tempted Eve, and with a similar object as Saturn he initiates Eochaid, weighing him in the balance and warning him that those led by dreams shall be misled, for those who seek initiation guided only by emotion and not by reason, cannot pass the necessary tests. Like Pan, who brought madness and death on those who confronted him unexpectedly, at the close of the play the Fairy Fool bestows the boon on death on the heart-broken king who demands from the restoration of his dreams. The shadow of Dalua’s hand, as applied to Etain and Eochaid to bring forgetfulness, corresponds to the draught of Lethe offered to souls about to descend into incarnation. It polarises their respective attitudes; Etain is made to forget her fairy kindred and high estate; Eochaid, who symbolises the desire principle, is made to imagine himself greater than he really is, a king of dreams and shadows, instead of their plaything, and a fit mate for the Immortal Star of the Shee.”
In her review of the opera, she wrote, “Etain is half fascinated, half terrified by Dalua, who suddenly during their conversation realizes why their meeting in that strange place has been ordained, and tells her of the King of Men, who has wooed the Immortal Hour and ‘sought and found and called upon the Shee to leave his love to one more beautiful than any mortal man, but concludes sternly that there is only “One way to that gate: it is not Love Aflame with desire: but Love at peace.”
In the book, I also mention the name Dubside (Mac Fee). Mac Fee, my mother’s maiden name, is said to be connected to Dubside or Dubsidhe. I honor my own Dark or Black Fairy. To my ancestors, may I be a vehicle for that which fires my blood and becomes inspiration though my airy flute. I imagine a dark fairy as my ancestral symbol.
Perhaps, look at your own and see where this will lead you.
Here is where I mention the name Dubside in my book, which was a name connected to the Isle of Iona, as it was the name of the Keeper of the Records in the abbey:
“I see some iffy connection of the MacFee’s, my mother’s maiden name, to a man named Dubside, who is associated with Iona island. That almost knocks me off my feet! I do some more research. From a website about the name MacFee, I read:
“The Hebrides islands and Western coastal mountains of Scotland were once part of the ancient kingdom of Dalriada. The name MacFee was born there, as a nickname for a dark-featured, peaceful person. The Gaelic name of the Clan is Mac Dubhshithe, which translates as black one of peace. One branch of the Clan on the island of North Uist was known as Dubh-sidh, meaning ‘black fairy.’”
I have some fun with it, as my fictionalized character tells her friend Iona that she is a Dark Fairy. The Dark Fairy greets Netta in the book. Unfortunately, I haven’t found much on Dalua or how even Crowley came across the name. I discovered that Yeats was familiar with Dalua from reading William Sharp, and that is actually where I’m assuming both Netta and I first heard the name as well, I presume. She was a great fan of his.
Dalua
I have heard you calling, Dalua,
Dalua!
I have heard you on the hill,
By the pool-side still,
Where the lapwings shrill
Dalua . . . Dalua . . . Dalua!
What is it you call, Dalua,
Dalua!
When the rains fall,
When the mists crawl,
And the curlews call
Dalua . . . Dalua . . . Dalua!
I am the Fool, Dalua,
Dalua!
When men hear me, their eyes
Darken: the shadow in the skies
Droops: and the keening-woman cries
Dalua . . . Dalua . . . Dalua!
-William Sharp
Another name I came across was Amadán Dubh, also known as the "'Dark Fool'" or "Fairy Fool," who brings madness and oblivion. This Dark Fairy haunts the hills at twilight, playing a reed pipe to work his magick. That kind of fits with this Syrinx, who wonders if I’m just a flute played by another.
Hugh Mynne writes in "The Faerie Way" that “The encounter with the Dark Goddess is thus an encounter with our own psychic waste material, our own ‘garbage.’ By facing Her we face our own shadow-self, known in the Faerie Tradition as the Dark Fool, and Named Dalua.” I would have loved to have seen that comment in the Book of Thoth. Now, I have bread crumbs to start with.
William Sharp//Fiona Macleod is the main source I have to go after, as even William Butler Yeats read Sharp and seems to have found the name Dalua from him. Of note, this is what Hugh Mynne said about Sharp, "However, the fruitful symbiotic relationship between William and Fiona was not without its drawbacks. Sharp paid a heavy price for the insight he gained. One aspect of this price was the periodic bouts of mental illness he had to endure. His footsteps were always dogged by that strange being known as Dalua, the Amadan-Dhu (Dark Fool, or Faerie Fool) 'whose touch is madness and death for any mortal: whose falling shadow even causes bewilderment or forgetfulness."
Though In folklore, Dalua is mainly represented as sinister and evil, William Sharp romanticizes the dark fairy, having him playing his pipes (syrinx) though mountains and valleys. He brings inspirational melodies as well as a summons to divine madness. I think an important thing to consider is balance. We need to explore our shadow side, but we must not lose touch with our footing. There are real dangers as well as real benefits, but it is up to us to see ourselves safely through this journey. We shouldn’t fear the Fool, but hold steady and enjoy what is unfolding. Whether we find great beauty or great terror, or a bit of both, we dared to venture forth and nothing can diminish the sense of accomplishment, even if we’re still near the beginning, because each step is big and impactful. All I can say is let’s appreciate the steps of those who have gone before us, as well as those who are just starting out. Don’t withdraw when things get tough, when people try to tear you down, or when you question your own wherewithal, because the rewards will come and we may discover it is all we’ve ever hoped for or wanted. Maybe I’m a Fool to think that, but somehow it just feels to be true.
According to Oxford Reference amadán is "a figure in Irish and Scottish Gaelic folklore who may assume both benevolent and malevolent roles. Amadán Mór, the Great Fool, is the Perceval-like hero of several Irish folk narratives and a sometime leader of the fairy host in narrative and poetry. Amadán na bruidhne, the fool of the fairy mounds or palaces is greatly feared because he may administer the fairy stroke, causing paralysis, crippling, or death; he is most active in June.”
Writers who mention the Amadan Dubh are Lady Augusta Gregory, William Butler Yeats, and William Sharp (aka Fiona Macleod). Lady Gregory's literary life did not begin until after the death of her husband, Sir William Gregory, in 1892. It was at that time when she became very interested in the Sidhe, and meeting William Butler Yeat furthered that drive. Maybe she enjoyed The Celtic Twlight, where he wrote “The wife of the old miller said, [. . .] the stroke of the fool is what there is no cure for [. . .] The Amadán-na-Breena we call him!’” (Yeats 113)
Sharp includes the Amadan in his play The Immortal Hour, as well as including the name Dalua in poems and in a short story, Dalua, where he is “The Dark Fool.” Like the Amadan, he can turn objects into shadows, which he inserts into people’s minds to cause madness. Maybe they are symbolic for the shadows we have to recognize and work through. Shadow Work is important work for the magickian, and perhaps madness arises when one doesn’t embark on this work, so is destroyed by that which remains hidden from his mind and he becomes his own enemy. We must make conscious that which is turning into a monster or it may swallow us up.
In The Birds of Emar, Sharp describes the Amadan playing a song “older than the Tuatha De,” and able to make gods mortal or even shapeshift. He had the ability to turn objects into shadows and insert them into others' minds to foment madness. Maybe bitterness from love denied made Dalua like this. In the story, he had loved Emar, but Manaan had taken her for a lover, and Manaan Mac Lir was the one who banned Dalua from the sea, which also pained him.
I too pine for the sea.
To get back at them, he turned Emar into a white flower, and then turned himself into the stalk with “grey silky petals which enclosed and upheld her.” It makes me think of a different version of Pan and Syrinx, where at last they are together.
Next is an excerpt about Dalua from William Sharp:
“Dalua lifted one. It was the shadow of a reed. He put it to his mouth and played upon it. Above, in the greying waste, a bird wheeled this way and that. Then the curlew flew down and stood quivering, with eyes wild as Dalua’s. He looked at it, and played it into a shadow; and looked at the sleeping man, and played that shadow into his sleeping mind.
“There is your shadow for you,” he said, and touched Dan. At that touch Macara shivered all over. Then he woke up with a laugh. He saw the dawn sliding along the tips of the pines on the east slop of Ben Brecan. He rose. He threw his cromak away. Then he gave three wails of the wailing cry of the curlew, and wandered idly back by the way he had come.
It was years and years after that when I saw him.
“How did this madness come upon him?” I asked’ for I recalled him strong and proud.
“The Dark Fool, the Amadan-Dhu, touched him. No one knows any more than that. But that is a true thing.” - Dominion of Dreams Under the Dark Star by Fiona MacLeod/William Sharp.
Fairies were gatekeepers and guards of the threshold between worlds or between life and death. I think of Dalua as my own version of Pan. It gives me something to go on as I further journey with the Mysteries. I remember being confronted with a pale being with black eyes that materialized on a dirt path before me when I was a teenager. He kind of represents Dalua to me. One can not cross a threshold with fear, which I felt at the time at my young, inexperienced age. I know now that next time that the doorway must be met with love, at peace. Until then, I continue on past a field of asphodels, seeking balance as I go.
I think now I can appreciate the Harlequin, Heyoka and Ghede as well as any Sacred Clown and see how they each bring to us a much needed wake-up from our dreams and illusions. Then again, sometimes dreams are good and awaken us from the material realm…and to our spiritual realm, where so much awaits.