I have been seeing quite a few posts across social media in Celtic Studies groups I follow addressing issues that fantasy inspired by Celtic myth, history, and language has had for quite some time—but are likely being broadcast more thanks to social media being able to elevate more and more authors that are grossly underinformed in the subject of Celticism.
I approach this topic not as someone who was raised in a household that spoke any of the Celtic languages, but who has had an interest in them for over a decade and strives to accurately portray them and the cultures who spoke them accurately in my own fiction. I myself have made some of the common missteps when it comes to incorporating these subjects into my writing, but by simply learning from experts and people who have actually grown up speaking these languages, it made me reassess what I actually know and how I go about transporting these concepts into fiction.
Finally, consider this post more as a strong opinion piece rather than something that’s mostly scholarly. Any footnotes you see are more addendums to my comments, although I do provide citations when necessary.
The use of cultural and linguistic elements in fiction that borrow from a people writers might not have been raised in is a difficult line to walk, especially nowadays when actual tradition-bearers can find and critically tear apart stories online that misrepresent their culture. There is, also, the social burden of being “politically correct” or “culturally sensitive” that puts further onus on writers and other artists to tread carefully when depicting other cultures that have been negatively stereotyped or inaccurately portrayed in previous media. My position here is not to lecture my readers (many also happen to be writers or interested in Celtic Studies) on what they should or should not do when portraying other cultures while not sacrificing artistic vision; it is something I’m also learning how to navigate in this increasingly frustrating minefield.
The three prevalent book series that have been showing up on other posts discussing this subject are Outlander by Diana Gabaldon, Sarah J. Maas’ A Court of Thorns and Roses, and The Empyrean Series by Rebecca Yarros. The examples are not limited to these three, but they are the series consistently mentioned by reviewers who have criticized their use and portrayal of Celtic languages. These stories, especially the latter two, are often categorized under the Fantasy subgenre “Romantasy,” which prioritizes romance as a main plot point. The latter two series have also been trending for quite some time on “BookTok,” the main grouping of book-related content on the platform TikTok—which may give you an idea in terms of the sort of audience that might tend towards these types of stories. As I have not subjected myself to reading these series, I cannot give very thorough reviews of their plots and whether they incorporate any elements of stories from other than reiterating the secondhand accounts from people who have read them and criticized their implementation of Celticism.
Outlander, out of these series, is probably the most successful as a franchise when considering its television adaptation, which made the intelligent move of bringing on an actual Gaelic language consultant, Àdhamh Ó Broin, to help reproduce the language as it would have been spoken in the 1740s. Largely, the show managed to portray Gaelic as an actual language spoken by human beings with personal thoughts, ideas, and agendas rather than a fantasy, “elf” language to add mystique to the setting (and give the illusion of depth to the audience). From what I remember after watching the first season, the narrative emphasized the alienation the protagonist Claire Beauchamp (played by Catriona Balfe) felt when living and travelling amongst the Gaelic-speaking Jacobites. One of the more striking sequences I can recall is the “Guma fada beò an Stiùabhart” (Long live the Stuarts) montage when Claire accompanies Clan MacKenzie making rounds amongst their tenants and satellite clans to collect taxes and reinforce loyalties. I have not watched beyond the first season, but given the show’s popularity and how much attention and tourism it has brought to Scotland—as well as vastly assisting Ó Broin’s success as an educator and consultant for Gaelic language projects1—it is difficult to ignore. I have also heard Diana Gabaldon made an effort to learn more about Scottish history and culture even as her series was developed into a show. I certainly cannot speak for Scotland as a whole, but at the very least Outlander seems to have repaired some of the cultural damage dealt by Braveheart; there are druids and Celtic Twilight elements, but at least there aren’t any blue-painted Australians!2
I have been recommended A Court of Thorns and Roses at least once before, primarily due to the series’ use of Celticism and Celtic language. I put off reading it (and still have no plans to read it) since I just don’t think it’s my bag, and I honestly dislike the Yeatsian or Victorian trope of dividing the aes sidhe into courts themed around anything from good and evil to manifestations of the seasons or just into courts in general. Based on the sorts of fans who gravitate towards this series, Thorns and Roses seems to draw a lot of influence from the fantasy Young Adult book series from the early 2000s. There is not one particular series I could name as most of them back then seemed to follow a formula of a protagonist discovering they have a special connection to a secret world of supernatural entities, being whisked away on a quest to hunt monsters and save the world, with the occasional love triangle popping up here and there. A lot of this “hidden world” formula can likely be attributed to Harry Potter, which sort of laid the groundwork for shoddy amalgamations of traditional mythic and folkloric entities existing into the modern day heaped with plenty of fluffy bunny-isms.3 I can’t make heads or tails whether Thorns and Roses takes place in the primary world (i.e., our Earth) while also utilizing a highly fantasized version of Faerie, or if it’s a secondary world that also happens to have its own realm of Faerie. Based on the seemingly random names without specific conventions (other than the residents of Faeries hinging on Welsh names), I assume it to be the latter. Something interesting that stands out on the series’ Wikipedia page, under the “Development” section, is that the author cites popular fairy tales, classic fantasy stories (from Western and Eastern cultures), and Greek mythology as inspiration behind her series—absolutely no mention of the Mabinogion, King Arthur, or any traditional Welsh folkstories despite her use of Welsh names. Although in checking over the broad plot synopses, I have noticed there are two main areas in the series’ Faerie realm called Prythain and Hybern, which seem to parallel Britain and Ireland, both of which appear in the Mabinogion and the antagonistic relationship seems carried over into Thorns and Roses. There may likely be more inspirations from Welsh source materials Maas might have taken for her story, but I have not put in the time to read these books as they are, again, not my bag.
The BBC that mainly sent me on this uses quotes from Bethan Hindmarch, a Welsh bookseller and blogger, as well as Dimitra Fimi, a professor of fantasy literature from Glasgow University,4 and primarily references Thorns and Roses as a driving factor of fantasy readers noticing Wales’ language and culture in the first place. They comment on the pros and cons of using Welsh (and Celtic languages) in fantasy, stating it has at least opened the door to international awareness about Wales but also might repeat some of the same mistakes made by the Celtic Twilight back in the 19th and 20th centuries, portraying Celtic-speaking countries as idyllic, pure, and rife with magic and mystery. One of the quotes in the article, from Prof. Fimi, references a “pan-Celticism” fantasy authors (especially ones outside of Celtic-speaking areas) seem to use to build up their worlds, irrespective of their actual histories. Maas seems to do this to a greater extent by mixing in all the literary inspirations as well as names into her series; in scrolling through the list of characters, I have noticed a mix of Welsh, Irish, common Biblical names (like Isaac), and pure fantasy names in her roster with little to no consistency. Even before I started college, it was frustrating to hear the term “Celtic” used in the umbrella term to refer to stories and characters that were specifically Irish, or Welsh, or Cornish, and so on. The liberty fantasy provides to mix in different influences to create an entirely new world is a double-edged sword since, if you are relying primarily on elements from our world to influence your epic fantasy series, you run the risk of frustrating readers who grew up in cultures you took said elements from. This rings especially true for fantasy that takes place in our own world where there is established facts or at least deeply-held beliefs that can be studied.
The last series, The Empyrean Series, showed up for me out of the blue when a Scottish Instagram user made a post about how to pronounce the Gaelic words that appear in this series. As many other posts covering this topic will mention, Rebecca Yarros’ series has absolutely nothing to do with anything from any Celtic-speaking culture other than using Gaelic words for the different “Ancestral Lines” of dragons appearing in the series. What many have also pointed out is Yarros’ incorrect use of Gaelic when naming these lines, her butchered pronunciation of them, and (to my knowledge) remaining completely mum to comments regarding her use of Gaelic. One huge thing that would tip off Gaelic-speakers to her fundamental ignorance of the language is how she utilizes adjectives. For example, one of the “Ancestral Lines” of dragons is called Dubhmadainn, which that Scottish Instagram user “somewhat” correctly translated to “black morning.” In actuality, if Yarros was following proper and elementary Gaelic grammar, she would have named it Madainn dhubh (and would be pronounced somewhat like mah-dane ghoo), as adjectives come after nouns in Gaelic—and feminine nouns (like madainn) cause lenition, which is when a word beginning with a lenitable consonant is softened (indicated by the added -h-).5 The weird setup Yarros uses for these names makes for absolute sailead facal (“word salad”) even for non-Gaelic-speakers, like Uaineloidsig (which was probably meant to mean “green lodging”?).
Prof. Fimi, when commenting on the pan-Celticism, echoes J.R.R. Tolkien’s sentiments about the definition of “Celtic,” which he called a “magic bag” in his 1955 essay “English and Welsh,” “…into which anything may be put, and out of which almost anything may come.” To this, in relation to the subject of this post, I invoke a quote from Emerson, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds…”6 The magic bag hasn’t gone away and as long as there is someone wanting to make a buck off pulling stuff out of the bag and an audience willing to get sucked into their yarns, it likely isn’t going anywhere. I won’t sit here and pretend that I haven’t reached my hand into the bag or that I would turn down a well-paying sale, but getting immersed in the academic and cultural side of things has made me understand the frustrations of scholars and tradition-bearers when some writer or studio keeps perpetuating the same Celtic Twilight archetypes we’ve had to put up with for over a century now. Some people learn they didn’t quite get it right and are willing to change, like how Outlander fleshed out the portrayal of Gaelic language and culture; some might try to divorce their stories as having any serious connection to the real world; others might pillage a still-living language and cram it into their stories because it sounds cool.
So, what is the solution to all this? The only thing I can say for certain is to give a damn. If you’re driven to write a fantasy story inspired by some myths or folktales you heard, or a song in another language, give a damn and start learning about them. It takes a long time and there is no possible way to include every single thing from an entire real-world human culture in even an epic fantasy series with five to six 400-page books, but if you show through your writing that you actually put in the work to earn readers’ attention then it’ll turn out all the better. And when I say “learn” I don’t just mean “read.” Sure, reading is something all writers should do, but we also need to realize there are still people alive who can talk to us about their languages, cultures, and histories. If you have the cash to burn and want to bring in a cultural consultant or “sensitivity reader” to be absolutely certain you won’t tread on eggshells (you will, whether you get one or not), but you shouldn’t feel obligated to. What you should do at least is talk to regular people, the kind of people who could be reading your stories—the kind of people you’re taking inspiration from. Figure out what they want to see. Figure out how they live their lives, what they know about their traditions, and how they talk. It takes time and you might not get it right the first time, but as long as you give a damn and don’t try to claim you know everything—even if you are just writing fantasy—it can get better.
Thanks for reading this week’s post! What do you usually do when basing stories off different myths, legends, and languages?
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Ó Broin has also hosted some retreats and workshops based around reconnecting with Scotland’s natural world, potentially utilizing Gaelic proverbs as the bases for some of his exercises. I haven’t participated in them and I don’t know anyone who has, so I cannot speak on the “accuracy” of them, but what I am certain of is his efforts to preserve and promote Gaelic outside standardized curricula in Scottish education and culture.
I do, however, feel the need to bring up the absolute joke of an episode from the companion miniseries to Outlander, Men in Kilts, did where the hosts, Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish, learnt a bit of Gaelic. For a show that was built on the premise of two Scottish guys exploring their heritage and culture, especially when connected to a larger series that depicts the oppression of Gaelic-speaking peoples, I feel like they could have taken it a bit more seriously than wimping out when a few midges started attacking them.
“Fluffy bunny” is a term used by practitioners of wicca, referring to people within the religion who see it more as a lifestyle brand than a serious way of practicing magic. I use it loosely here in a manner that refers to how fantasy, especially ones using this “hidden world” formula, tend to just make up how mythic and folkloric creatures and entities and magic functions in their world.
I am aware there are some adjectives in Gaelic that can, and usually, go before nouns, such as seann (old), deagh (good), etc. Colors, however, are not those sorts of adjectives.
I am aware there is more to this Emerson quote and, furthermore, he was referring to “statesmen and philosophers,” but I felt it fitting to include when considering how fantasy authors continuously mishandle cultural materials they are unfamiliar with.
I'm writing a serialised historical fiction set in 1169 Ireland. I'm an Australian - but not painted blue, I promise. To deal with the problem of cultural appropriation & inaccurate portrayals I researched for 5 years, travelled to Ireland, paid for a subscription to Tuatha.ie who are a collective of Irish archaeologists, read books and watch Irish media. I spent years paralysed by all this research before finally jumping in to create my story. It's one that I have felt compelled to tell for 10 years. I dread being exploitative or misrepresenting Irelands culture. But its almost certain I have. I just hope that folks will help me be better.
It is really surprising that Yarros could be so cavalier about such an important aspect of her writing. To misuse the language of the people you chose as the characters in your fiction is an insult to the people and to your readers.It seems Yarros has no respect for either.
Kudos to you for pointing out her errors.