Scottish Legend and Myth – The
Bodach
I had a terrific time researching
Scottish mythology for "Scotch Broom, the 3rd book in the series. I thought I knew a lot already being a fantasy
fan and general myth and legend geek, but I was delighted to find a
few beings to add to the Scotch Broom plot. Some of these lovelies
became major players in the book. Sianach, the flesh-eating stag,
Cusith the giant green hound, Cait Sidhe the cat fairy, to name a
few. But I also found some irresistible characters I just had to work
into the plot.
One that intrigued me was Bodach, the
black giant. Once I had decided that Cailleach, the winter goddess,
was going to be the villain, I decided she had to have a minion or
two to do her bidding. The skrats were perfect to be the illusive
little spies who reported back to Cailleach whenever Kat or Rune met
someone in the Otherworld or made progress of some kind.
However, the crone would need some
muscle to back her up. Bodach provided that. He’s not too bright,
but is grateful to Cailleach for allowing him to live in her firewood
box. Since it’s rather small for a giant, I allowed that Bodach
could be just like me when waking up in the morning. Throw the legs
to the side of the bed, then struggle to stand, creep slowly for the
first few steps, but begin to work out the kinks. Stand up
straighter, and grow taller. Finally, at full height and strength,
stride off as the giant one is meant to be.
This is how I envisioned poor Bodach. A
useful tool for Cailleach, kept in a woodbox, and taken out as the
hag has need. I even found one reference indicating the Bodach was
Cailleach’s husband. How more beaten down and subservient could a
legendary being be then to be the spouse of a nasty old hag like the
winter goddess. Indeed, their home is in a stone hut in Glen Lyon in
Scotland. So, there you have it. A home, a husband, and a kid or two.
Cailleach was the very model of a not-so-modern Scottish housewife.
Bodach has his own website
(http://www.bodach.net/),
which says:
The word ‘Bodach’ roughly
translates as ‘Old Man’, and his favourite hobbies include
crawling down chimneys and poking young children with his long bony
fingers. Like the Bogeyman, the Bodach is said to steal away naughty
children Specifically the Bodach-Glas, or Dark Grey Man (sometimes
also known as the Dovach or Mournful One) and the Bodach au Dun or
Old Man of the Hill were said to be heralds of death. These Bodachs
are said to sometimes be swathed in a long grey cloaks and to hover
slightly above the ground. Furthermore a tremendous gash cut across
his pallid face dripping gore onto his beard and long, hoary hair.
My Bodach differs from this
description. However, those who know me understand that I take every
civilization’s myth and legend and then turn it to my own purposes.
As always, I have taken great liberties with Celtic mythology.
Excerpt:
Cailleach groaned
when she leaned over and lifted her bare foot high enough to clip her
toenails with the gardening shears. She looked up and sniffed twice.
The hag dropped her bare foot, stuffed it into her flipflop, and
shuffled to the door. Throwing it open, she held her head high,
closed her eyes, and sniffed some more.
“Drat! Not
another witch.” She sniffed again. “Wait, a warlock. No, a
vampire. Hmm.” She closed the door and slumped into a chair. “This
is confusing. Maybe there are two.” She went to the woodshed door.
Cailleach rapped three times and then stood back as it creaked open.
Bodach, her
roommate and minion, dragged his crippled body out of the small
hatch. “Yes, Mistrezz,” he slurred, casting one protruding eye
upwards.
“We have
another foreigner in the swamp. Get out there and find a skrat to
check. No, not a skrat. I smell vampire. Find Glaistig and send her
to investigate.” Cailleach patted him on the head. “There’s a
good boy.”
“Can you tell
me where Glaistig is hiding?” Bodach examined his armpit and
sniffed.
“Go to the
standing stones on the north side of the loch. She has a cave there.”
“Yes,
Mistrezz.” Bodach dragged his limp legs behind him. He began to
unfold in a way the eye could not follow. When he reached the door,
he needed to bend and shuffle through sideways to fit.
“Bodach, stay
with Glaistig and do as she says. She might need some muscle.”
“Yes,
Mistrezz.” Bodach ducked and went to seek Glaistig, the Gray Lady.
Cailleach closed
the door behind the giant and sat again. She twanged the long hair
protruding from the wart on her chin. “This is all very disturbing.
Two foreigners stomping around in my bog within hours. This second,
though, he’s strange. Yes, male. That much is clear. But I smell on
him both warlock and vampire. Very odd, indeed.”
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