Discover the MythCloud

This woodcut used for the title page of Francisco Aguilonius' scientific work on optics exemplifies how Renaissance and early modern scientific publications incorporated mythological imagery even as they advanced empirical understanding of natural phenomena. Created in the Officina Plantiniana printing press in Antwerp, the frame adorned with various mythological figures demonstrates the complex relationship between emerging scientific methodologies and established symbolic frameworks during this transitional period in European intellectual history.

The integration of classical mythological references in a scientific work on optics reflects the Renaissance understanding of knowledge as an integrated whole rather than a collection of discrete disciplines. By framing scientific content with mythological imagery, the publication positioned new optical discoveries within established intellectual traditions while simultaneously signaling its participation in humanist cultural innovations. This visual rhetoric exemplifies how early modern scientific communication operated within broader cultural frameworks rather than as a completely separate domain.

The specific choice of mythological figures likely created meaningful connections between classical traditions and the optical content of Aguilonius' work. Light, vision, and perception were subjects of significant interest in classical mythology and philosophy, providing rich symbolic resources for visual representation of optical principles. This deliberate connection between ancient and modern approaches to similar phenomena exemplifies how Renaissance thought evolved through dialogue with classical precedents rather than through complete rejection of earlier frameworks.

The preservation of this woodcut in the Royal Museum of Fine Arts in Antwerp reflects ongoing cultural interest in understanding how visual culture participated in the complex evolution of scientific thought. Rather than representing a clean break with earlier modes of understanding, scientific illustration during this period demonstrates how new empirical approaches emerged gradually from within established intellectual frameworks, incorporating elements of traditional symbolic thinking while developing increasingly systematic approaches to natural phenomena.

Talking History offers a distinctive exploration of pivotal political, social and cultural events that have shaped our world, examining the complex figures central to these historical moments. Hosted by Dr Patrick Geoghegan of Trinity College Dublin, this programme interrogates the multifaceted, often contested dimensions of our collective past, illuminating what these historical narratives reveal about contemporary society.

WB Yeats & The Occult
A century after W.B. Yeats was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923, this episode of RTÉ's Talking History hosted by Dr. Patrick Geoghegan brings together distinguished scholars to examine the complex interplay between Yeats's literary achievements, his political engagements, and his lifelong fascination with the occult. This multifaceted exploration illuminates how these seemingly disparate elements combined to produce one of the 20th century's most significant literary voices.

The panel features remarkable scholarly expertise, including Dr. Adrian Paterson from the University of Galway, Dr. Lucy Collins from University College Dublin, and Professor Roy Foster from the University of Oxford, who authored the definitive two-volume biography of Yeats. They are joined by Professor Margaret Harper, Glucksman Professor in Contemporary Writing at the University of Limerick and former Director of the Yeats International Summer School, and Susan O'Keeffe, Director of the Yeats Society Sligo.

Their discussion reveals how Yeats's involvement with esoteric traditions—from the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn to spiritualism and automatic writing—was not peripheral to his literary work but central to his understanding of symbolism, imagination, and cultural renewal. The Tattwa Cards mentioned in the caption, which Yeats created during his membership in the Golden Dawn, represent physical evidence of how seriously he engaged with occult practices as tools for accessing deeper realities beyond ordinary perception.

This occult dimension of Yeats's work was intimately connected to his vision of Irish cultural nationalism. The mythological and supernatural elements he incorporated into his poetry and plays were part of a conscious effort to construct a distinctively Irish literary tradition that could stand apart from English influences while connecting to broader European cultural movements.

The centenary of Yeats's Nobel Prize provides an opportunity to reconsider how his integration of occult symbolism, mythological narratives, and political engagement produced a body of work that continues to resonate globally while remaining deeply rooted in Irish cultural experience.

The Kristal calendar, created to promote photographer Frank Philippi's photo studio, features a striking crystal glass bowl adorned with mythological female figures.

This promotional piece demonstrates how mythological imagery permeates even commercial design, blending intricate glasswork with classical representations of female forms. Philippi's artistic approach combines photography with mythological symbolism, creating a visual language that draws on shared cultural references to elevate a commercial object into something more evocative.

The piece exemplifies how mythological references function as a visual shorthand across cultures and contexts, lending gravitas and artistic legitimacy to everyday objects and promotional materials.

This Lithuanian sakmė about the rich man's son and the three prophetic voices exemplifies how traditional societies used narrative frameworks to explore the tension between predestination and human agency. The tale's structure—prophecy, attempted evasion, and unexpected fulfilment—follows a pattern common to fate narratives across cultures, demonstrating how similar psychological concerns generate comparable narrative solutions despite diverse cultural contexts.

The three voices represent a classic mythological motif found in numerous traditions, from the Greek Moirai to the Norse Norns. This recurring pattern suggests how traditional societies conceptualised fate as multifaceted force with distinct aspects—in this case, wealth, early death, and specific death circumstances. The consistent number three in such figures across cultures likely reflects fundamental cognitive patterns in how humans organise complex concepts into manageable frameworks.

The father's elaborate precautions—building thick stone walls—exemplifies how fate narratives typically explore the futility of human attempts to circumvent predetermined outcomes. The child's unexpected survival, however, introduces narrative complexity by demonstrating that prophecies often fulfil themselves in unexpected ways. This narrative twist reflects sophisticated understanding of how human knowledge is inherently limited, with attempts to avoid fate often inadvertently ensuring its realisation.

Drawn from Norbertas Vėlius's collection of Lithuanian etiological legends, this tale demonstrates how traditional narratives served both entertainment and philosophical functions. By exploring fundamental questions about human agency and cosmic determination through accessible story format, such tales provided frameworks for understanding life's unpredictability while acknowledging human limitations. The story's preservation transforms what was once living oral tradition into documented cultural heritage, changing its function while ensuring its survival beyond the communities that originally created it.

This woodblock, designed by Pieter van der Borcht I and carved by Antoni van Leest for Rembert Dodoens' influential botanical work Cruijdeboeck, exemplifies how Renaissance scientific publications incorporated mythological elements even as they advanced empirical understanding of the natural world. The integration of mythological figures in the design of a scientific text reflects the transitional nature of Renaissance thought, which blended emerging scientific methodologies with established symbolic frameworks.

The woodblock's intricate mythological imagery served multiple functions beyond mere decoration. By framing botanical knowledge within classical mythological references, the design positioned Dodoens' work within established intellectual traditions while simultaneously signalling its participation in Renaissance cultural innovations. The specific replacement of Maria of Hungary's heraldic shield with a floral vase in the 1563 edition demonstrates how such imagery adapted to changing political circumstances while maintaining visual continuity.

The technical execution of the woodblock—signed by its creators and preserved through its acquisition in 1876—represents a material artifact of Renaissance printmaking practices. The collaborative process between designer and woodcarver exemplifies how knowledge transmission in this period required specialised technical skills alongside intellectual innovation. This collaboration mirrors the broader Renaissance integration of artistic and scientific pursuits, challenging modern disciplinary boundaries.

This woodblock thus stands at a significant historical juncture, participating in the transition from predominantly mythological frameworks for understanding nature toward more empirical approaches. Rather than representing a clean break with earlier modes of thought, it demonstrates how new scientific methodologies emerged gradually, incorporating elements of traditional symbolic thinking while developing increasingly systematic approaches to natural phenomena. The Plantin-Moretus Museum's preservation of this artifact reflects ongoing cultural interest in understanding this pivotal moment in European intellectual history.

Bluiríní Béaloidis is a podcast from the National Folklore Collection at University College Dublin. It explores the rich landscape of Irish and European folk traditions.

The podcast represents a significant modern adaptation of traditional folklore transmission, translating oral traditions into digital media while maintaining their essential function as repositories of cultural wisdom, whilst exploring how mythological thinking continues to evolve through new forms of dissemination while remaining connected to its traditional roots.

Host Jonny Dillon's invitation to journey through the "folklore furrow" employs an agricultural metaphor to frame the exploration of cultural inheritance—a fitting approach for traditions deeply connected to land, seasons, and community. This framing positions folklore not as antiquarian curiosity but as civic cultivation—stories and practices that, like crops, require proper tending to maintain their vitality and relevance across generations.

By examining both Irish and broader European folk traditions, the podcast contextualises local narratives within larger patterns of human meaning-making. This comparative approach reveals how specific cultural expressions often reflect universal human concerns, demonstrating folklore's dual function of reinforcing cultural particularity while addressing shared human experiences. The podcast's exploration of diverse subjects and themes illustrates how traditional narratives provided comprehensive frameworks for understanding every aspect of human experience.

Most significantly, the podcast articulates how understanding traditional wisdom can inform contemporary life and guide future development. This forward-looking perspective challenges simplistic notions of folklore as merely preserving the past, instead positioning traditional knowledge as a valuable resource for navigating present challenges. By making these traditions accessible through modern digital platforms, Blúiríní Béaloidis exemplifies how mythological thinking adapts to new contexts while maintaining its essential function of creating meaning and connection.

Yorgos Maraziotis' artistic research project Mythical Truths offers a sophisticated exploration of how contemporary institutions develop their own mythologies through the accumulation and circulation of personal narratives. By collecting stories from students at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts Antwerp and treating them as myths that oscillate between truth and fiction, Maraziotis demonstrates how mythological thinking continues to shape collective identity even in ostensibly rational modern contexts.

The project's recognition that personal belief, fact, fiction, and myth are intertwined within our understanding of the world challenges simplistic distinctions between objective and subjective knowledge. This approach reflects contemporary understandings of how social realities are constructed through shared narratives rather than existing as fixed, independent truths. By applying this framework to art education specifically, Maraziotis illuminates how artistic institutions develop distinct cultures through the accumulation and transmission of stories that shape participants' experiences and expectations.

Particularly significant is the project's attention to the Academy's 360-year history and its current international character, with students from over fifty countries engaging in critical self-reflection and artistic practice. This emphasis on diversity within a historically situated institution raises important questions about how cultural narratives evolve through contact with multiple traditions and perspectives. The project thus examines the dynamic interplay between institutional continuity and cultural evolution.

Maraziotis' questioning of whether memory is a fixed notion or a constantly evolving construct addresses fundamental issues in how mythological thinking operates in contemporary contexts. By exploring how an archive of everyday stories can facilitate institutional pluralism and inspire meaningful change, the project demonstrates how mythological frameworks continue to serve essential functions in modern society—providing flexible frameworks for understanding complex social realities while adapting to changing circumstances and diverse perspectives.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA), one of Belgium's premier cultural institutions, houses the artwork titled A Pencil Sketch of the Painter Titian, Painting Venus, Inventory No. 2138(I)/33, by Nicaise De Keyser (1813-1887), a prominent Belgian artist and director of the Antwerp Academy of Fine Arts from 1855 to 1879.

This meta-artistic sketch depicts the renowned Renaissance master Titian (c. 1488-1576) in the act of creating one of his most celebrated works, the Venus of Urbino (1534). This approach represents more than a simple historical illustration; it embodies a dialogue across centuries of artistic tradition, with a 19th-century Belgian artist paying homage to a 16th-century Venetian master.

Titian's Venus of Urbino, now housed in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, stands as a landmark in the history of European art, representing both the height of Venetian Renaissance painting and a pivotal development in the representation of the female nude. By choosing to depict Titian creating this specific work, De Keyser emphasises the painting's canonical status and its continuing influence on European artistic traditions.

De Keyser's sketch reflects the 19th-century fascination with artistic lineage and the lives of great masters. During this period, artists and academics increasingly viewed the history of art as a narrative of genius and influence, with modern artists positioning themselves as inheritors of classical traditions while simultaneously asserting their own innovations.

This drawing exemplifies how mythology—in this case, the classical figure of Venus—continued to serve as a common reference point across disparate historical periods and artistic movements. It demonstrates the enduring power of mythological subjects to connect artists across time, creating continuity within Western artistic tradition while accommodating evolving aesthetic sensibilities and technical approaches.

Folk music has always carried echoes of mythology—a weaving of personal and collective memory that transforms ordinary lives into extraordinary narratives. In Ireland, this mythological dimension has played a vital role in forging national identity, especially during periods of social or political upheaval.

Today, as folk music experiences a remarkable revival in Ireland, it offers a compelling case study in the enduring interplay between myth, culture, and nation-building. Contemporary acts like Lankum, Ye Vagabonds, and The Mary Wallopers are reshaping Irish folk music for a new generation, drawing on traditional forms while incorporating modern sensibilities and concerns. This new movement builds upon earlier revivals while responding to present-day realities and artistic currents.

The early 20th-century Irish folk revival emerged as an assertion of cultural independence, intertwining artistic expression and political consciousness to craft a distinctly Irish identity separate from British influence. Through grassroots traditions like the "session"—a communal gathering of musicians—and later through global successes like The Dubliners and The Pogues, folk music transcended mere entertainment to become a vessel for storytelling, cultural memory, and collective identity.

The 21st-century folk revival carries forward this tradition while addressing contemporary circumstances. Artists like Lankum redefine the genre with their "doom-folk" sound, bridging Ireland's ancient musical heritage with modern sonic experimentation and thematic concerns. Others, like The Mary Wallopers, reclaim folk's populist roots, stripping away commercialised elements of "tourist-oriented" traditional music to present an unvarnished, irreverent expression of Irishness. Meanwhile, younger artists like Muireann Bradley demonstrate the genre's intergenerational resilience.

This revival represents more than nostalgia—it is mythology in real-time, reconstructing authenticity while forging a forward-looking cultural identity that acknowledges tradition without being constrained by it.

This educational resource pack, developed by the National Library of Ireland, introduces secondary school students to the rich relationship between W.B. Yeats (1865-1939)—one of Ireland's most significant literary figures—and the traditional folklore that profoundly influenced his poetic imagination. Drawing on the Library's extensive Yeats collection, it provides students with a structured approach to exploring how mythological narratives shaped literary expression in the Irish Revival period.

The lesson materials guide pupils through an examination of primary and secondary sources from the National Library's holdings, encouraging critical engagement with Yeats's creative process and his adaptation of folk motifs. By investigating how traditional fairytales and folklore informed Yeats's poetry, students gain insight into the dynamic relationship between oral tradition and literary innovation during a formative period in Ireland's cultural development.

W.B. Yeats's engagement with Irish folklore was not merely aesthetic but deeply political, emerging during a period of cultural nationalism when the recovery and celebration of indigenous traditions became integral to the assertion of Irish identity. Alongside figures like Lady Gregory and Douglas Hyde, Yeats participated in collecting and reinterpreting folk narratives, believing they contained spiritual and psychological truths essential to understanding the Irish character.

The featured illustration by Victor Brown, depicting an extract from Yeats's "The Song of Wandering Aengus," visually represents this synthesis of literary craft and mythological source material. This poem, with its references to the supernatural and its evocation of Ireland's mystical landscape, exemplifies how Yeats transformed traditional motifs into modern literary expression.

This educational resource demonstrates the continuing significance of examining how cultural memory is preserved, transmitted, and transformed through artistic expression, encouraging students to consider how traditional narratives maintain relevance through creative reinterpretation.

This woodcut of the "Drunken Silenus" from around 1630, designed by Peter Paul Rubens and engraved by Christoffel Jegher, exemplifies how Baroque artists continued to find powerful expressive possibilities in classical mythological subjects. Depicting Silenus—the Greek god of wine and companion to Dionysus/Bacchus—in a state of intoxication surrounded by satyrs and nymphs, the print demonstrates how mythological narratives provided frameworks for exploring aspects of human experience that might otherwise be difficult to address directly.

The collaborative nature of this work—with Rubens providing the design and Jegher executing the engraving—exemplifies how printmaking facilitated broader circulation of mythological imagery, allowing compositions originally accessible only to elite audiences to reach wider publics. This democratisation of mythological imagery played an important role in maintaining the cultural relevance of classical references even as European society underwent profound religious and social transformations.

Silenus himself represents a complex mythological figure whose drunkenness was associated not just with physical intoxication but with philosophical insight and prophetic wisdom. This ambiguity made him a particularly suitable subject for exploring tensions between physical indulgence and spiritual/intellectual transcendence that preoccupied Baroque culture. Rubens' characteristic style, with its emphasis on dynamic, sensual figures, was particularly well-suited to capturing this paradoxical aspect of Silenus' nature.

The print's connection to related works in Munich and the Louvre's Cabinet des Dessins demonstrates how mythological subjects circulated across media and national boundaries, creating complex networks of visual reference that maintained the cultural currency of classical themes throughout Europe. The preservation of this print in the Royal Museum of Fine Arts in Antwerp reflects ongoing cultural interest in understanding how mythological frameworks evolved through artistic reinterpretation, maintaining relevance across changing historical contexts through their flexible symbolic language.

The transformation of Gdynia from small seaside village to bustling port city during Poland's interwar period represents a compelling case study in how urban development projects acquire mythological significance beyond their material dimensions. As a symbol of progress and national pride within the Second Polish Republic, Gdynia's rapid growth became a powerful embodiment of Poland's aspirations for independence and prosperity following extended periods of foreign domination.

The city's development encapsulated not merely infrastructure construction but the creation of tangible proof that Poland could direct its own modernisation after centuries of partition. This symbolic dimension explains why Gdynia acquired such exceptional significance in Polish national consciousness—it provided concrete evidence of national capability and autonomy at a time when these qualities remained psychologically crucial but practically uncertain.

The political and economic tensions that marked Gdynia's transformation reveal the complex reality behind national mythologies of progress. The challenges inherent in rapid urban development—competing interests, resource limitations, ideological conflicts—created significant gaps between idealised narratives of national triumph and lived experiences of urban growth. This tension between mythological representation and complex reality characterises many national development projects, which typically generate simplified narratives that obscure underlying conflicts and contradictions.

Gdynia's enduring status as powerful symbol in Polish cultural memory demonstrates how built environments acquire mythological significance that persists beyond their original historical contexts. The city continues to function as reference point in Polish discourse about national development and identity, demonstrating how physical spaces become repositories of collective meaning that evolve through changing historical circumstances while maintaining connection to foundational national narratives. This persistent symbolic resonance exemplifies how modern societies continue to create mythological frameworks around material developments, transforming concrete structures into carriers of abstract cultural values.

This Baltic brass brooch, featuring sun and plant motifs derived from archaeological findings, illustrates how material culture embodies cosmological understanding. The intricate designs are not merely decorative but represent a sophisticated visual language through which Baltic peoples expressed their relationship to cosmic order and natural cycles.

The sun symbol, central to Baltic iconography, functioned simultaneously as a representation of a physical celestial body and as a metaphysical concept embodying life, order, and regeneration. This dual reference—material and spiritual—characterises mythological thinking across cultures, where physical phenomena are understood as manifestations of deeper metaphysical principles.

Plant imagery, frequently paired with solar symbols in Baltic decorative arts, creates a visual narrative of cosmic influence on earthly fertility. This relationship between celestial forces and terrestrial growth reflects a fundamental mythological pattern found in agricultural societies worldwide, where human prosperity depends on correctly understanding and ritually acknowledging cosmic interdependencies.

Such brooches served multiple functions simultaneously: practical fasteners, markers of social identity, and potentially protective talismans. This multidimensionality reflects how pre-modern societies integrated practical, social, and spiritual concerns within unified symbolic systems rather than separating them into distinct domains as modern thinking tends to do. The craftsmanship evident in these pieces demonstrates that technical skill itself was understood within a mythological framework, with metalworking often associated with transformative or even magical properties in traditional European societies.

Flemish theatre in Belgium has recently faced growing criticism for being "too white," with concerns spanning from its organisational structure to casting choices and repertoire selection. This critique reflects broader questions about cultural representation and the evolution of theatrical traditions in increasingly diverse societies.

In response, theatre critic Erwin Jans advocates for the exploration of non-Western theatrical works, particularly highlighting Arabic adaptations of the Greek tragedy Oedipus. By examining these adaptations, Jans situates them within broader cultural and political contexts, challenging the Eurocentric readings that have dominated Western theatre.

This approach represents a significant intervention in how mythological narratives are understood and performed. While the Oedipus myth originated in Greek culture, its themes of fate, identity, and self-knowledge resonate across cultural boundaries. Arabic adaptations often reinterpret these universal elements through specific cultural lenses, adding new dimensions to the story while maintaining its fundamental dramatic power.

By advocating for engagement with these adaptations, Jans encourages a more inclusive and multifaceted interpretation of classical works. This perspective recognises that mythological narratives are not static cultural artefacts but living traditions that gain vitality through cross-cultural dialogue and reinterpretation.

The discussion around diversifying Flemish theatre through engagement with non-Western adaptations of classical myths demonstrates how traditional narratives can serve as bridges between cultures, fostering a richer dialogue between diverse cultural expressions while questioning established canonical interpretations.

Talos is an artistic research initiative led by Israeli choreographer Arkadi Zaides that explores the intersection of mythology, technology, and border politics. The project takes its name and conceptual framework from a European Union-funded research program developing mobile robots designed to secure Europe's borders, which itself drew its name from the mythological bronze giant from Greek mythology.

In Greek myth, Talos was a bronze automaton created by the divine craftsman Hephaestus to protect the island of Crete and, by extension, Europa (for whom Europe is named) from invaders. This ancient tale of a mechanical guardian patrolling boundaries resonates provocatively with contemporary debates about migration, sovereignty, and technological surveillance.

Zaides' two-year research project uses this mythological narrative as a foundation for exploring contemporary themes in performance, theatre, and dance. The initiative focuses particularly on the concepts of pre-enactment and speculation—artistic strategies that imagine and physically rehearse potential futures rather than representing past events.

Through this framework, Zaides and his collaborators investigate the implications of increasingly technologised approaches to security and borders. The project raises critical questions about how physical and ideological protection of territories can be represented and reimagined through performance, creating space for reflection on the ethical and political dimensions of border control technologies.

By connecting ancient mythology with cutting-edge surveillance technology and artistic practice, Talos demonstrates how mythological narratives continue to provide powerful conceptual tools for understanding and critiquing contemporary social and political developments.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA) houses a sketch titled A sketch depicting various zodiac figures, Inventory No. 3257/72, by Paul Joostens (1889-1960), a Belgian artist whose diverse career spanned multiple artistic movements and demonstrates the evolution of European modernism in the early 20th century.

Joostens's artistic development reflects a restless creativity and willingness to engage with different aesthetic approaches. Trained at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Antwerp, he began by working in a Cubist style before becoming associated with the provocative Dadaist movement during and after World War I. In this experimental phase, he created boldly innovative collages from found materials, aligning his practice with the irreverent and critical spirit of international Dada.

By the mid-1920s, Joostens underwent a significant stylistic shift, developing what he termed his "Gothic Joostens" period. This phase was heavily influenced by the Flemish Primitive painters like Hans Memling, whose meticulous attention to detail and spiritual intensity provided a counterpoint to modernist abstraction. During this period, Joostens created religious-themed works, particularly Madonna images, and joined De Pelgrim, a Catholic-inspired art collective that sought to reconnect modern art with religious traditions.

Despite these shifts in his primary focus, Joostens maintained a diverse artistic practice throughout his life. He continued to explore sensual themes in his drawings alongside his religious work, and in later years returned to experimental Dadaist assemblages. His fiery temperament and individualism eventually led to his isolation from mainstream artistic circles, a withdrawal reflected in the darker, anthracite-coloured drawings he produced during the 1950s.

This zodiac sketch represents one facet of Joostens's multifaceted artistic vision, demonstrating his engagement with symbolic and mythological themes that transcend specific stylistic periods.

The Táin Bó Cúailnge (The Cattle Raid of Cooley) stands as the centrepiece of the Ulster Cycle, a collection of heroic tales from early Irish literature dating from the 8th century CE. This epic narrative, which blends pre-Christian mythology with proto-historical elements, represents one of the most significant works of early European literature and continues to influence Irish cultural identity.

The epic recounts the story of Queen Medb of Connacht's attempt to steal the prized Brown Bull of Cúailnge from Ulster, and how the teenage hero Cúchulainn single-handedly defends his province against her armies while the other Ulster warriors are incapacitated by a curse. Through extraordinary feats of martial prowess, supernatural transformations, and tactical ingenuity, Cúchulainn holds off the invaders until his fellow warriors recover and join the battle.

Thomas Kinsella's acclaimed 1969 translation, referenced here, draws primarily from two medieval manuscripts—the 12th-century Book of Leinster and the earlier but more fragmentary Book of the Dun Cow—supplemented by elements from other versions. His work also incorporates related stories that provide context for the central action, offering readers a more complete understanding of the epic's complex narrative and characters.

This edition is distinguished by its inclusion of brush drawings by Louis le Brocquy, one of Ireland's most significant 20th-century artists. Le Brocquy's stark, minimalist illustrations offer a modernist interpretation of these ancient tales, creating a visual language that captures the primal energy of the text while avoiding anachronistic historical representation.

The combination of Kinsella's poetic translation and le Brocquy's evocative artwork creates a version of The Táin that bridges ancient and contemporary sensibilities, demonstrating how mythological narratives can be continuously reinterpreted while maintaining their essential power and relevance across centuries.

Seven Ages: The Story of the Irish Stateis a landmark documentary series produced in 2000 by Araby Productions for RTÉ and BBC Northern Ireland. Directed by Seán Ó Mórdha, this influential seven-part series chronicles Ireland's evolution since its founding in 1921 through key political, social, and cultural moments in history.

The series offers a comprehensive exploration of how Ireland, as a new nation-state, evolved a collective identity over its first seven decades. The shared national narrative, initially framed by founding leaders, evolved through a dynamic interplay of internal and external socio-economic-cultural forces. It reveals the complex process through which societies construct and sustain their sense of collective self

Episode 2 analyses how Éamon de Valera's Fianna Fáil fundamentally reshaped Ireland's political landscape by skilfully harnessing cultural mythology as a political tool. The party's deliberate promotion of traditional Irish values was a sophisticated exercise in narrative construction, connecting contemporary political aims with selective interpretations of cultural heritage to reinforce a cohesive national story.

Seán Ó Mórdha's series illuminates the complex relationship between political power and cultural narrative, demonstrating how emerging nations often look backward to move forward. The series shows how de Valera's Ireland exemplifies a universal pattern in which new political orders establish legitimacy by positioning themselves as natural inheritors of an idealised past.

Each episode reveals critical moments where Ireland's self-conception was challenged, negotiated, and reformulated, highlighting the essential role of storytelling in political legitimation. The documentary features insights from key political figures including former Presidents and Taoisigh who themselves participated in the evolution of Ireland's national narrative.

By examining the interplay between political pragmatism and cultural symbolism, the series offers profound insights into how national identities are deliberately crafted to serve contemporary needs. First broadcast in 2000, Seven Ages continues to provide valuable perspective on how societies create coherent narratives from complex and often contradictory histories, showing that the mythologies that bind us together are as much inventions as discoveries.

Irish football supporters have gained international recognition for their distinctive approach to fandom, characterised by a unique combination of joy, resilience, and camaraderie that frequently transcends match outcomes. Affectionately known as "The Green Army," these supporters have developed a reputation that extends beyond typical sports fandom to become a significant element of contemporary Irish cultural identity.

Renowned for their ability to transform moments of defeat into scenes of shared humour and positivity, Irish fans are widely regarded as goodwill ambassadors who regularly cheer for opponents, sing in the streets, and transform football matches into communal celebrations. This behaviour reflects deeper cultural values emphasising hospitality, good humour, and the prioritisation of collective experience over competitive outcomes.

This reputation was solidified during international tournaments such as Italia 90, USA 94, Japan/Korea 2002, and Euro 2016, where the supporters' warmth and good humour garnered global media attention and admiration. In particular, the 1990 World Cup in Italy represented a watershed moment, coinciding with Ireland's economic modernisation and increased European integration, when Irish supporters created a positive, outward-looking image of the nation on an international stage.

The enduring perception of Irish fans as loyal and optimistic supporters who celebrate each match as a communal experience rather than merely a sporting contest has become a modern mythology that projects a distinctive national identity. This identity emphasises resilience, good humour, and communal solidarity—values that resonate well beyond the sporting context.

Through songs, rituals, and shared experiences, The Green Army has created a form of participatory cultural narrative that allows individuals to connect with collective national identity while simultaneously presenting this identity to the wider world. This phenomenon demonstrates how sporting events can function as platforms for the creation and dissemination of contemporary national mythologies.

Žalioj Girelė Jau Geltonuoja (The Green Little Forest Is Turning Yellow) is a traditional Lithuanian folk song recorded by renowned Lithuanian scholar Jonas Basanavičius (1851-1927) during his extensive fieldwork documenting oral traditions in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. This particular song was collected from villagers in Gačiškiai village, representing an important element of Lithuania's rich folk heritage.

The song captures the autumn transformation of the forest, using the changing colours of leaves as a natural symbol that likely carries deeper metaphorical significance. In Lithuanian folk tradition, forest imagery frequently serves as a potent symbol connected to national identity, with Lithuania historically known as a land of forests and lakes. The juxtaposition of "green" and "yellow" in the title creates a vivid image of transition and change, potentially reflecting broader themes of life cycles, impermanence, and seasonal renewal.

Lithuanian folk songs, known as dainos, typically feature distinctive musical characteristics including modal scales, natural harmonies, and regional variations in performance style. The lyrical content often addresses themes of nature, agricultural life, love, family relationships, or historical events, creating a comprehensive cultural archive of rural experience and worldview.

Basanavičius's work in documenting such cultural expressions was crucial to the Lithuanian National Revival movement of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. As a physician, folklorist, and national activist, he recognised that preserving Lithuania's distinct cultural heritage was essential to maintaining national identity during a period of intense Russification policies that restricted Lithuanian language and cultural expression.

The archiving and preservation of this song by the Lithuanian Institute of Literature and Folklore ensures that this cultural expression remains accessible to current and future generations, maintaining connections to traditional ways of understanding and relating to the natural environment through artistic expression.

This woodblock from 1565, crafted by designer Geoffroy Ballain and woodcutter Jean de Gourmont, represents a fascinating intersection of mythology, early scientific inquiry, and Renaissance print culture. Now preserved in the Museum Plantin-Moretus in Antwerp, Belgium—a UNESCO World Heritage site that houses the world's oldest printing presses—this block depicts the Scytale, classified as a subspecies of the mythical serpent Amphisbaena.

The Amphisbaena appears in ancient sources including Pliny's Natural History and Lucan's Pharsalia, described as a serpent with heads at both ends, allowing it to move in either direction without turning. The Scytale represents a variation on this mythological creature, its dual-headed nature symbolising ambiguity and the ability to transcend conventional limitations.

This woodblock was used to illustrate Jacques Grévin's works on poisons, Deux livres des venins (1568) and De venenis libri duo (1571), demonstrating how mythological creatures were integrated into early scientific and medical texts. This integration reflects the Renaissance period's transitional understanding of the natural world, where empirical observation increasingly challenged but had not yet displaced mythological explanations inherited from classical authorities.

The block's artistic execution exemplifies the sophisticated woodcut technique developed in 16th-century Europe, with fine line work capturing detailed anatomical features that blend observational elements with fantastic attributes. This approach typifies Renaissance natural history illustration, which sought to categorise and represent both real and legendary creatures with similar visual language.

Acquired by the Plantin-Moretus Museum in 1876, the block represents a fascinating artifact of 16th-century print culture and intellectual history, illuminating how mythological creatures were documented and disseminated during a period of rapidly evolving understanding of the natural world.

John F. Kennedy's 1963 visit to Ireland, occurring just months before his assassination, represents a pivotal moment in Irish cultural memory and in the mythology of Irish-American identity. As the first U.S. President of Irish Catholic descent to visit his ancestral homeland, Kennedy's journey acquired symbolic dimensions that transcended its political purposes, becoming a powerful narrative about emigration, success, and the enduring connection between Ireland and its diaspora.

Kennedy's visit took place during a significant transition in Irish history, as the country was beginning to emerge from decades of economic stagnation and cultural isolation under Taoiseach Seán Lemass's modernisation programmes. For many Irish people, Kennedy's success epitomised the promise of the American Dream—a narrative in which Irish emigrants could not only survive but thrive and ascend to positions of global influence, validating the sacrifices of previous generations who had left Ireland during periods of famine and hardship.

The symbolism of Kennedy's return was reinforced by his deliberate visit to his ancestral homestead in Dunganstown, County Wexford, where he was photographed taking tea with distant relatives. This carefully choreographed moment created a powerful visual metaphor of return and remembrance that resonated deeply with both Irish and Irish-American audiences, visually embodying the "prodigal son" narrative suggested in the title.

For Irish Americans, Kennedy's rise served as a vindication of their place in the American socio-political landscape, representing the possibilities of inclusion within dominant culture despite a history of anti-Catholic and anti-Irish discrimination. His presidency marked the symbolic culmination of the Irish immigrant journey from marginalised outsiders to full participants in American power structures.

This visit demonstrates how political events can acquire mythological dimensions when they align with powerful narrative patterns that address questions of collective identity, historical trauma, and national aspiration. Kennedy's brief return to Ireland continues to function as a compelling story about emigration, success, and homecoming in both Irish and Irish-American cultural memory.

Talking History offers a distinctive exploration of pivotal political, social and cultural events that have shaped our world, examining the complex figures central to these historical moments. Hosted by Dr Patrick Geoghegan of Trinity College Dublin, this programme interrogates the multifaceted, often contested dimensions of our collective past, illuminating what these historical narratives reveal about contemporary society.

The Irish Wake
This right of passage represents one of Ireland's most distinctive cultural traditions, a complex ritual that has evolved over centuries to address the universal human experience of death through distinctively Irish practices and perspectives. More than simply a funeral rite, the Wake embodies a unique expression of how Irish communities have traditionally coped with, commemorated, and even celebrated the passage from life to death.

This episode of RTÉ's "Talking History" with Patrick Geoghegan explores the rich history of Irish wakes, examining their development and significance across centuries. The programme was inspired by the opening of Ireland's first dedicated Irish Wake Museum at Waterford Treasures, which preserves and showcases this important aspect of cultural heritage that risks being lost in an increasingly secularised and medicalised approach to death.

Traditional Irish wakes combined elements of Christian ritual with pre-Christian practices, creating a distinctive approach to death that emphasised community solidarity, storytelling, and often humour in the face of loss. The body would typically be prepared at home and laid out in the best room of the house, with visitors coming to pay respects over several days. These gatherings featured a characteristic blend of solemnity and sociability, with prayer sessions interspersed with storytelling, music, food, drink, and occasionally games.

As noted by comedian Dave Allen, whose observations are featured in the programme, Ireland developed a distinctive cultural approach to death that acknowledged its inevitability while finding ways to celebrate life in its presence. Allen describes the wake as a "marvellous celebration" that could transform even the death of an unpopular community member into an occasion for gathering and storytelling.

This tradition exemplifies how communities develop cultural practices to make meaning from mortality, creating shared narratives and rituals that provide structure and comfort during times of loss while reinforcing social bonds and collective identity.

The RTÉ documentary Luke, directed by Sinead O'Brien and first broadcast in 1999, explores the life and legacy of Luke Kelly, one of Ireland's most iconic folk singers and a founding member of The Dubliners.

The film chronicles Kelly's journey from inner-city Dublin to his untimely death at 44, highlighting his profound influence on Irish music and culture. Featuring archival footage and interviews with figures such as Bono, Christy Moore, and Shane MacGowan, it weaves Kelly's music with reflections on his passionate advocacy for social justice and cultural pride.

In the context of national identity, Luke serves as more than a biographical documentary. It demonstrates the power of folk music as a vessel for storytelling and cultural continuity, with Kelly's renditions of classics like 'Raglan Road' and 'The Auld Triangle' embodying Ireland's struggles and aspirations. His voice became a symbol of shared national mythology, connecting generations through emotional resonance and resistance against cultural erasure.

By examining Kelly's life and art, the documentary illuminates how individual artists shape the narrative of national cultural identity, transforming personal expression into collective memory.

This woodcut of a dragon, created by Geoffroy Ballain and Jean de Gourmont for Jacques Grévin's publications on poisons and venomous creatures, exemplifies how mythological beings continued to appear in early scientific texts. Published in Deux livres des venins (1568) and later in De venenis libri duo (1571), this image demonstrates the complex relationship between empirical observation and mythological thinking during the transitional period of early modern science.

The dragon's inclusion in texts discussing natural poisons and venoms reveals how the boundaries between observed and imagined creatures remained fluid in early modern natural history. Rather than representing a failure of scientific observation, this inclusion reflects a worldview that understood nature as potentially containing wonders and anomalies beyond everyday experience. The dragon thus occupied an ambiguous ontological status—neither fully factual nor completely fictional within the conceptual framework of the period.

The woodcut technique itself, allowing for intricate visual representation in printed materials, played a crucial role in standardising and disseminating visual depictions of both real and mythological creatures. This technological innovation transformed how knowledge circulated, creating increasingly stable visual references for natural phenomena while simultaneously codifying visual representations of mythological beings.

The acquisition of this woodcut by the Plantin-Moretus Museum in 1876 represents another phase in its cultural evolution—from practical printing element to preserved historical artifact. This transition reflects changing attitudes toward early modern scientific materials, which came to be valued not just for their content but as evidence of evolving approaches to knowledge and representation. The dragon woodcut thus exemplifies how mythological elements in early scientific texts have been reinterpreted through changing frameworks of understanding, becoming valuable resources for examining the complex development of modern scientific thought.