Discover the MythCloud

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.

In this RTÉ historical programme, broadcaster Myles Duggan speaks with Dr. Cian McMahon, author of The Coffin Ship: Life and Death at Sea during the Great Irish Famine, exploring a critical but often overlooked aspect of one of modern Ireland's defining historical traumas.

The term "coffin ship" has become a powerful symbol of the Great Famine (An Gorta Mór) of 1845-52, representing the perilous maritime journeys undertaken by approximately two million Irish people seeking escape from starvation and disease. These overcrowded vessels, often unseaworthy and lacking adequate provisions, carried desperate emigrants across the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, with many passengers perishing during the journey—hence the grim but apt nickname.

Dr. McMahon's research offers a fresh perspective on the migration experience by focusing on the journey itself rather than departure or arrival points. By examining the harsh realities faced by Irish emigrants and convicts aboard these ships between 1845 and 1855, he provides insight into the lived experiences of individuals caught in one of history's most significant forced migrations.

The coffin ships represent more than historical transportation; they have become powerful metaphors in Irish cultural memory for the desperation, suffering, and resilience of Famine-era emigrants. They symbolise both the catastrophic failure of British governance in Ireland during this period and the extraordinary determination of those seeking survival through perilous journeys to unknown lands.

This examination of the coffin ship phenomenon contributes to our understanding of how traumatic historical experiences become mythologised in national consciousness, with specific elements—in this case, the dangerous emigrant ships—serving as condensed symbols that encapsulate broader historical narratives of suffering, survival, and diaspora formation.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA), one of Belgium's most prestigious cultural institutions, houses Pegasus, Inventory No. 218, a remarkable painting by Jacob Jordaens I (1593-1678), one of the leading Flemish Baroque painters alongside Peter Paul Rubens and Anthony van Dyck.

This artwork captures the mythical winged horse Pegasus, a compelling figure from Greek mythology born from the blood of Medusa after she was beheaded by Perseus. In classical tradition, Pegasus is associated with poetic inspiration—creating the spring Hippocrene on Mount Helicon with a strike of his hoof—and heroic quests, particularly through his association with the hero Bellerophon.

Jordaens, known for his dynamic compositions and rich colour palette, likely presents Pegasus in a manner that reflects the Baroque era's preference for dramatic intensity and narrative depth. His interpretation would have drawn on classical sources while adapting them to contemporary artistic sensibilities and the tastes of 17th-century Flemish patrons.

The painting exemplifies how classical mythology continued to provide powerful symbolic material for artists throughout the European Baroque period. Pegasus, as a symbol of divine inspiration, creativity, and transcendence, offered artists a vehicle for exploring themes of imagination and artistic achievement while demonstrating their mastery of classical subject matter.

This work stands as a testament to the enduring appeal of mythological subjects in Western art history and their ability to convey complex ideas about human aspiration, creativity, and the relationship between the earthly and the divine through visual narrative.

Slavic mythology remains largely obscured despite its richness, with a scarcity of written sources compared to other ancient traditions. What knowledge we have today has been pieced together through archaeological finds, linguistic studies, and folklore analysis, creating a fragmented but fascinating portrait of pre-Christian Slavic spirituality.

The pantheon features powerful deities like Perun, the thunder god, and Veles, god of cattle and the underworld, though their worship varied significantly by region and tribe. These gods were central to cosmological narratives that explained natural phenomena and reinforced social structures, creating shared narratives that bound communities together.

Ritual practices, including ceremonies around multi-headed idols and seasonal festivals, formed the practical expression of these beliefs. While Christianisation eventually overshadowed many of these traditions, remnants persist in cultural practices and stories today, demonstrating the resilience of mythological narratives even as formal religious structures change.

This fragmentary quality of Slavic mythology offers a compelling case study in how mythological systems survive when their original context is disrupted, adapting and persisting through folk practice and cultural memory.

This small Baltic purse, adorned with patterns symbolising the cyclic movement of time, exemplifies how everyday objects in traditional societies served as carriers of cosmological understanding. The geometric motifs—spirals and circles—transform a practical item into a tangible expression of abstract concepts, demonstrating how material culture embodies philosophical worldviews.

The prevalence of cyclical imagery in Baltic textile arts reflects a fundamental understanding of time as circular rather than linear—a conception common to many traditional societies whose lives were governed by seasonal rhythms and astronomical cycles. By incorporating such motifs into everyday objects, Baltic peoples literally carried their cosmological framework with them, reinforcing cultural understanding through daily interaction with symbolic material culture.

Spirals and circles, recurring throughout Indo-European symbolic systems, visually represent the continuous flow of time and the eternal principles of renewal. These geometric abstractions function as simplified but profound expressions of complex philosophical concepts, making abstract principles tangible and accessible through material engagement.

The purse's practical function of containing and preserving valuables takes on additional significance when considering its decorative symbolism. Just as the purse secures physical resources, the cyclical imagery references the cosmic patterns that ensure the preservation and renewal of natural resources. This multi-layered functionality demonstrates how traditional Baltic culture integrated practical needs and spiritual understanding rather than treating them as separate domains. Such objects provide valuable insights into worldviews where material and metaphysical concerns were understood as inherently interconnected rather than distinct.

This Late 19th Century Lithuanian Folk Song Archive, c. 1890s. Collection of images, music notation, various artefacts, and Lithuanian sashes, recorded and curated by Jonas Basanavičius. Lithuanian Art Exhibition; Aleksandras Jurašaitis (1859-1915)/. Lietuvos nacionalinis muziejus (National Museum of Lithuania).represents a crucial moment in the preservation of Baltic oral traditions. Collected from the villagers of Dziegcioriai, the song forms part of Lithuania's intangible cultural heritage—stories and melodies that maintained cultural identity during periods of political suppression and foreign domination.

The preservation of such folk songs is particularly significant in the Baltic context, where sung poetry served as a repository for collective memory and shared values during centuries of occupation by various powers. The act of collecting and archiving these songs was not merely an academic exercise but a deliberate effort to document and legitimise national identity at a time when Baltic political independence was still an aspiration rather than a reality.

Basanavičius himself was not simply a collector but a central figure in Lithuania's national awakening, understanding that folk traditions provided essential material for constructing a coherent national narrative. His work exemplifies how the documentation of folklore often serves dual purposes: preservation of cultural heritage and creation of foundational resources for national mythology.

Now housed in the Lithuanian Folklore Archive, this song exists in a transformed state—from a living, performed tradition to a documented cultural artefact. This transition from orality to archive represents a common pattern in how traditional mythologies are simultaneously preserved and changed by modern institutional practices. While the archival process ensures the song's survival, it also fundamentally alters its context, transforming a participatory community practice into an object of study and cultural memory.

Mitologia Słowiańska w Zarysie ("An Outline of Slavic Mythology"), accessible through Polona, the digital library of the National Library of Poland, provides a comprehensive overview of the pre-Christian belief systems of the Slavic peoples. This resource represents an important scholarly effort to reconstruct and understand a mythological tradition that, unlike Greek or Norse mythology, lacks extensive written documentation from its active period.

The text examines key deities in the Slavic pantheon, such as Perun, the thunderer and supreme god of the pantheon, and Veles, the god of the underworld, cattle, and wealth. These gods formed a cosmic dichotomy, with Perun ruling the sky and Veles governing the underworld, their eternal conflict symbolising the tension between order and chaos in the Slavic cosmological view.

Beyond major deities, the work explores the rich world of spirits that populated the Slavic mythological landscape. These include the domovoi (house spirits) that protected homes and families, and the rusalki (water spirits), often represented as beautiful maidens who could bring both blessing and misfortune to those who encountered them.

The text details how these mythological figures were central to the cultural and spiritual practices of pre-Christian Slavic societies, informing seasonal rituals, agricultural practices, and community cohesion. Despite the relative scarcity of primary sources, the work synthesises archaeological findings, linguistic evidence, and later folkloric traditions to construct a coherent picture of Slavic mythological systems.

This scholarly resource demonstrates how mythological research can illuminate historical worldviews and social structures, even when working with fragmentary evidence and traditions disrupted by religious conversion and cultural change.

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 6 examines how Ireland's relationship with Europe in the 1970s necessitated a profound recalibration of national mythology. The emergence of narratives positioning Ireland within a broader European context reveals the adaptability of national storytelling, demonstrating how societies reformulate their identities to accommodate new geopolitical alignments without abandoning core elements of self-conception.

Seán Ó Mórdha's documentary series presents this period as a critical junction where Ireland negotiated the tension between sovereignty and integration, illustrating how national myths evolve to reconcile seemingly contradictory imperatives. The series demonstrates how societies craft narratives that allow them to participate in transnational projects while maintaining distinctive identities.

Each episode explores pivotal moments in Ireland's development, revealing how national mythologies function as dynamic frameworks that can expand to incorporate new dimensions of identity and belonging. The documentary features perspectives from political leaders and cultural commentators who witnessed and shaped this evolution, offering unique insights into the conscious and unconscious processes of narrative adaptation.

By examining how Ireland positioned itself within European frameworks while maintaining its distinctive character, the series provides a sophisticated understanding of how national identities navigate the complex interplay between particularity and universality. First broadcast in 2000, Seven Ages continues to offer valuable perspective on how societies craft cohesive narratives that make sense of their changing place in the world, demonstrating that effective national mythologies must be both rooted and adaptable.

In Lithuanian mythology, Žemyna stands as one of the most fundamental deities, embodying the earth itself and all living things that depend upon it. Her name derives from the Lithuanian word Žemy (earth), emphasising her direct connection to the land that sustained Baltic agricultural communities. As the goddess of Earth and fertility, Žemyna represents the generative and nurturing aspects of nature that enable human survival and prosperity.

Revered as a maternal figure who blesses the land with abundance, Žemyna played a crucial role in agricultural rituals and practices. Farmers would invoke her protection for their fields and crops, seeking her blessing for a bountiful harvest and fertility for their livestock. This relationship between the deity and agricultural success reflected the fundamental importance of sustainable land management in pre-industrial Lithuanian society.

However, Žemyna's benevolence was conditional upon proper respect and stewardship. Farmers who neglected their duties or acted lazily were believed to incur her wrath, resulting in crop failure and misfortune. This aspect of her mythology reinforced cultural values of diligence and respect for the land, embedding ecological ethics within religious practice.

Rituals honouring Žemyna were integrated into daily life and seasonal celebrations. These included pouring beer on the ground as a libation to nourish her, and offering bread and meat at funerals to request her protection for the deceased's soul in the afterlife. People would also kiss the ground as a sign of respect when beginning important tasks, rising in the morning, retiring at night, or bidding farewell to their homes—gestures that acknowledged human dependence on the earth's generosity.

Žemyna's central position in Lithuanian mythology highlights the reverence for nature and cyclical processes of life and death that characterised traditional Baltic worldviews, offering a direct link between human actions and the health of the land that supported them.

The sustained cultural impact of the life and death of Bobby Sands exemplifies how modern political struggles generate powerful narrative frameworks that function similarly to traditional mythology. Sands's 1981 death on hunger strike while protesting for political prisoner status transformed a contemporary political figure into a symbolic embodiment of resistance and sacrifice that transcends his specific historical circumstances.

The power of the Bobby Sands narrative lies in its resonance with archetypal patterns of martyrdom and self-sacrifice for collective causes. By willingly embracing death for his principles, Sands entered a mythological lineage that transcends specific political contexts—his actions echo patterns found in diverse cultural and religious traditions where individual sacrifice serves as redemptive act for a larger community. This mythological dimension explains why his story resonated far beyond Ireland, inspiring solidarity movements across the globe.

The comparison to historical figures like Wolfe Tone and the 1916 Rising leaders illustrates how new political martyrs are incorporated into existing nationalist mythologies, creating narrative continuity that links contemporary struggles to established historical frameworks. This process demonstrates mythology's adaptive capacity—absorbing new elements while maintaining coherent narrative structures that reinforce collective identity and purpose.

The visual and narrative elements surrounding Sands's death—a young man's deliberate starvation as political protest—created powerful symbolic imagery that fueled the mythological potency of his story. The transformation of his physical suffering into political statement exemplifies how modern political movements generate new mythological frameworks that, while ostensibly secular, follow patterns remarkably similar to religious martyrdom narratives. Sands thus exists simultaneously as historical individual and mythological figure, demonstrating how contemporary events continue to generate powerful cultural narratives that shape collective understanding and inspire political action.

The founding of the Gaelic League (Conradh na Gaeilge) in 1893 marks a pivotal moment in Irish cultural history, representing a deliberate effort to reclaim and revitalise a central element of national identity at a critical historical juncture. Under the leadership of Douglas Hyde, a Protestant scholar who would later become Ireland's first president, the League emerged as a formidable force in shaping a renewed sense of Irish cultural distinctiveness.

Hyde's vision, articulated in his influential 1892 speech "The Necessity for De-Anglicising Ireland," framed Irish heritage as a wellspring of national strength and distinctiveness that had been eroded through centuries of colonial influence. His approach positioned language revival not merely as a linguistic project but as a comprehensive cultural regeneration essential to authentic national identity.

Drawing upon the rich tapestry of Celtic myths, traditional music, and oral storytelling traditions, the Gaelic League fostered a cultural renaissance that sought to counter the homogenising forces of British colonialism. By offering Irish language classes, traditional music sessions, and Irish dance workshops through branches across the country, the League connected communities with the mythology of their heritage, transforming cultural symbols into powerful expressions of identity and resistance.

The League's influence extended far beyond language revitalisation. Many of its members, including Patrick Pearse and Éamon de Valera, would become central figures in Ireland's independence movement, demonstrating how cultural revival often serves as a precursor to political mobilisation. While officially non-political, the organisation created spaces where national consciousness could develop and strengthen.

In this sense, Conradh na Gaeilge functioned as a re-mythologising movement, reimagining Ireland as a land defined by its own ancient and enduring narratives rather than through colonial perspectives. By positioning Irish language and culture at the heart of national identity, the League provided a narrative of resilience and authenticity that would profoundly influence Ireland's path toward independence and its subsequent cultural policies.

This ornate copper engraving of a decorative initial "Q" from the 1644 Groot Profijt-Boek (Great Profit Book) exemplifies how practical commercial publications in early modern Europe incorporated sophisticated visual elements drawn from classical and mythological traditions. As a guide for merchants and citizens on trade and commercial matters, this publication demonstrates how mythological imagery permeated even the most pragmatic aspects of early modern culture.

The decorative initial combines functional typography with artistic embellishment, transforming a simple letter into an elaborate visual statement. This integration of practical communication and aesthetic expression reflects the holistic cultural understanding of early modern European society, which had not yet fully separated utilitarian and artistic domains in the way that modern industrial culture would later do.

Created during a time of vibrant commerce, the engraving exemplifies how trade publications adapted visual languages developed in religious and courtly contexts to serve the needs of an emerging mercantile class. The translation of aristocratic visual rhetoric into commercial contexts represents an important aspect of how symbolic systems evolved to address changing social and economic realities in early modern Europe.

The preservation of this engraving in the Museum Plantin-Moretus collection reflects ongoing cultural interest in understanding the visual language of early modern commercial culture. This artifact provides valuable evidence of how mythological elements were integrated into everyday business practices, demonstrating the persistence of traditional symbolic frameworks even as European society developed increasingly rationalised approaches to commerce and knowledge. The decorative initial thus stands as a small but significant example of how mythological thinking permeated even the most practical aspects of early modern European culture.

The remarkable cultural resonance of Fairytale of New York by The Pogues and Kirsty MacColl exemplifies how popular music can generate contemporary mythologies that address fundamental human concerns while responding to specific historical circumstances. Released in 1987, this unconventional Christmas song has transcended its origins to become a seasonal touchstone that offers a complex meditation on disillusionment, loss, and enduring human connection despite its ostensibly bleak narrative.

The song's unusual power derives partly from its engagement with the immigrant experience, particularly the Irish diaspora in America. By narrativising the tension between aspiration and reality in the immigrant journey, it connects personal disappointment to broader historical patterns of migration and adaptation. The mythological resonance of New York City itself—as both "city upon a hill" and site of potential disillusionment—provides a setting where personal struggles acquire broader symbolic significance.

The song's dialogue structure, alternating between male and female perspectives, creates a dynamic narrative that resists simplistic resolution. This formal approach exemplifies how contemporary mythology often embraces complexity and contradiction rather than offering straightforward moral lessons, reflecting modern understanding of human experience as inherently multifaceted and ambiguous. The juxtaposition of Christmas imagery with themes of addiction, conflict, and failed dreams creates productive tension that challenges the sanitised sentimentality of conventional holiday narratives.

The enduring popularity of this song—despite controversy over some of its lyrics—demonstrates how contemporary cultural forms continue to generate mythological frameworks that provide meaningful ways of understanding complex human experiences. Like traditional seasonal rituals that acknowledge darkness within celebration, Fairytale of New York offers a framework for recognising both joy and sorrow as essential components of human experience. Its cultural significance transcends mere entertainment, functioning as a modern seasonal myth that addresses universal themes through specific cultural references and individual narratives.

The Toporzeł —a controversial emblem created by Polish sculptor and painter Stanisław Wyspiański in 1935—exemplifies how nationalist movements often generate new mythological symbols that blend historical references with contemporary political aspirations. By fusing the imagery of an axe (topór) and an eagle (orzeł), Szukalski created a symbol intended to replace the traditional White Eagle, positioning it as an emblem of national rebirth that would connect modern Polish identity to its perceived Slavic roots.

The symbol's creation reflects the interwar period's intense search for authentic national identity following Poland's reemergence as an independent state after extended foreign domination. Szukalski's vision of a revitalised Polish culture drew on nationalist interpretations of prehistory and mythology to construct a narrative of Polish exceptionalism and cultural continuity despite historical disruptions. This approach exemplifies how nationalist movements selectively reinterpret historical and mythological elements to create compelling narratives of national destiny.

The Toporzeł 's subsequent appropriation during the German occupation of Warsaw reveals the darker potential of nationalist symbolism. Its use by some Polish anti-Semites to mark Christian-owned shops, promoting economic boycotts against Jewish businesses, demonstrates how cultural symbols can be redeployed in ways their creators never intended. This repurposing exemplifies how mythological frameworks, once established, can evolve beyond their creators' control, acquiring new meanings through changing historical contexts.

This emblem's complex legacy illustrates the ambiguous nature of nationalist mythology—simultaneously expressing legitimate aspirations for cultural self-determination while potentially facilitating exclusionary and harmful political agendas. The tension between these possibilities exists within many nationalist symbolic systems, which typically combine elements of cultural celebration and boundary-drawing that define both who belongs within the national community and who is excluded from it. The Toporzeł thus stands as a powerful example of how modern political movements continue to generate new mythological frameworks to address contemporary concerns about collective identity and purpose.

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.

Peter Paul Rubens' Mythological Figure depicting a centaur and girl exemplifies how classical mythology provided Renaissance and Baroque artists with a sophisticated visual language for exploring fundamental human concerns. This ink drawing, part of the Royal Museum of Fine Arts in Antwerp's collection, demonstrates the enduring cultural power of hybrid mythological figures in European artistic tradition.

The centaur—half human, half horse—represents one of mythology's most enduring hybrid creatures, embodying the tension between rational thought and animal instinct that defines the human condition. By depicting this boundary-crossing figure interacting with a human girl, Rubens creates a visual meditation on the relationship between civilisation and nature, reason and passion, that continues to resonate with contemporary viewers despite our distance from classical belief systems.

Rubens' skill in capturing dynamic, emotionally expressive figures is particularly well-suited to mythological subjects, which frequently explore intense emotional states and dramatic transformations. His characteristic style, with its emphasis on movement and sensuality, brings mythological narratives to life through visual storytelling that engages viewers on both intellectual and emotional levels.

This drawing exemplifies how mythological subjects allowed artists to explore themes that might otherwise be difficult to address directly—particularly those concerning the body, desire, and the boundaries of the human. By framing such explorations within established mythological contexts, artists could engage with potentially controversial subjects while maintaining the protective distance of allegory. The persistence of such mythological representations throughout European art history demonstrates their effectiveness as vehicles for exploring complex psychological and philosophical questions across changing cultural contexts.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA), established in the early 19th century as one of Belgium's premier cultural institutions, houses A Plaster Model for a Sculpture, Inventory No. 1872, by Paul De Vigne (1843-1901), a significant Belgian sculptor known for his contributions to the nation's artistic heritage.

This plaster model depicts mythological figures, demonstrating De Vigne's masterful understanding of classical forms and his meticulous attention to detail. As preliminary works, plaster models held particular importance in the sculptural process of the 19th century, allowing artists to refine their compositions before committing to more permanent materials like marble or bronze.

De Vigne, who studied at the academies of Ghent and Brussels before spending time in Italy and Paris, became known for his public monuments and idealised figurative works. His sculptural style typically blended academic rigour with emotionally expressive elements, creating works that were technically accomplished while conveying deeper symbolic meanings.

The mythological theme of this model reflects the continuing importance of classical subject matter in 19th-century European sculpture. Artists of this period often drew upon Greek and Roman mythology to convey universal ideas through timeless imagery, using familiar narratives to explore contemporary concerns about beauty, morality, or human achievement.

The presence of this preparatory model in the museum's collection provides valuable insight into the artistic process and the technical aspects of sculpture production during this period. It demonstrates how mythological themes continued to serve as vehicles for artistic expression well into the modern era, maintaining their cultural relevance even as artistic styles evolved.

Skellig Michael, a jagged island rising dramatically from the Atlantic Ocean approximately 12 km off Ireland's southwest coast, stands as a remarkable testament to human resilience and spiritual devotion. This UNESCO World Heritage Site, designated in 1996, is renowned for its early medieval monastery, precariously perched 200 metres above sea level on the island's steep slopes.

Established by monks sometime between the 6th and 8th centuries CE, the monastery's austere beehive-shaped stone huts and hand-carved steps reflect the extreme asceticism of early Irish Christianity. For these monastic pioneers, Skellig Michael represented more than a remote retreat; it embodied a liminal space where terrestrial and divine realms intersected. The island's isolation mirrored their spiritual quest for proximity to God, exemplifying a broader trend in early medieval European monasticism that sought wilderness and marginal landscapes for contemplative practice.

Beyond its religious origins, Skellig Michael's cultural significance has evolved considerably over time. For centuries, it remained primarily a symbol of Irish endurance and spiritual heritage, attracting pilgrims and scholars interested in early Christian monasticism. More recently, the island captured global attention as a filming location for the Star Wars franchise, appearing in The Force Awakens (2015) and The Last Jedi (2017) as the refuge of Luke Skywalker. This contemporary reimagining has introduced this cultural treasure to new audiences worldwide, blending ancient mythology with modern storytelling.

This evolution illustrates how historical sites can acquire new layers of meaning through cultural reinterpretation. Skellig Michael's stark beauty and dramatic isolation have allowed it to transition from a place of religious devotion to a symbol of Ireland's heritage, and now to a site of popular cultural significance while retaining its essential character and historical importance.

Legends of the Rhine by Wilhelm Ruland is a collection of folk tales inspired by the Rhine River and the surrounding Low Countries, a region rich in mythological tradition.

The book presents stories that have become deeply intertwined with the cultural fabric of the region, including the well-known Lorelei legend and other local myths. These narratives, often blending history and legend, reflect the people's connection to the river landscape and demonstrate how geographical features become repositories for cultural meaning and identity.

Accompanied by illustrations from celebrated artists, the text visually enhances these narratives, bringing mythological figures and settings to life. The tales capture not only the natural beauty of the Rhine but also the powerful stories that have emerged over centuries, contributing to the river's status as a symbol of romance and legend in European folklore.

The work stands as a literary exploration of the Rhine's mythical significance, offering insight into how landscapes shape narrative traditions and how these stories, in turn, influence how people understand and relate to their environments.

The Dublin City Council's Bram Stoker Festival represents a sophisticated contemporary reinterpretation of mythological thinking, transforming Gothic literary heritage into participatory cultural experience. By celebrating Stoker's legacy through diverse artistic expressions, the festival demonstrates how literary mythologies can be adapted to serve modern communal needs while maintaining connection to their source material.

Founded in 1994 and now one of Dublin's largest arts festivals, this annual event exemplifies how cultural mythologies function as renewable resources that can be continually reinterpreted to address contemporary concerns. The festival's exploration of the supernatural and the "after-dark" creates ritual space for engaging with themes of mortality, fear, and transformation—universal human concerns that traditional mythologies have always addressed.

The festival's emphasis on bilingualism and rural community life connects Gothic literary traditions to older Irish cultural expressions, creating a complex layering of mythological frameworks. This synthesis demonstrates how new cultural narratives often incorporate elements from multiple sources, adapting them to create coherent experiences that simultaneously honor tradition and respond to contemporary circumstances.

Perhaps most significantly, the festival's framing of creativity as "community medicine" articulates an understanding of art and ritual as essential components of social and psychological wellbeing. This perspective echoes traditional views of myth and ritual as necessary elements of healthy community functioning rather than mere entertainment. By creating spaces for collective experiences of the uncanny and the imaginative, the Bram Stoker Festival fulfills functions remarkably similar to traditional mythological practices while adapting them to contemporary urban contexts and aesthetic sensibilities.

This Lithuanian sakmė, or etiological folk tale, offers a mythological explanation for lightning strikes, demonstrating how pre-scientific cultures interpreted natural phenomena through narrative frameworks that reinforced moral and social values.

According to the tale, the origin of lightning can be traced to an ancient conflict between Perkūnas, the powerful thunder god in Baltic mythology, and the devil. The narrative begins with the devil borrowing money from Perkūnas but then refusing repayment and mocking the god, triggering Perkūnas' rage. This initial transgression—breaking a promise and disrespecting a divinity—establishes the moral foundation of the story.

The lightning that flashes across the sky represents Perkūnas' continuing pursuit of the devil, who attempts to hide in various places: on farms, inside animals, or within people's clothing. When lightning strikes a tree, sets fire to a house, or kills a person or animal, it is explained as the devil hiding there, making these locations the inadvertent targets of Perkūnas' wrath.

This narrative demonstrates how mythological explanations often served multiple functions in traditional societies. Beyond explaining the natural phenomenon of lightning, the tale reinforces social values regarding debt repayment and respect for authority. It also provides practical guidance by warning people about potentially dangerous locations during thunderstorms.

The story's structure, with the devil constantly fleeing and Perkūnas relentlessly pursuing, creates a compelling explanation for lightning's unpredictable and repeated nature. This cyclical, unresolved conflict explains why lightning continues to occur rather than being a one-time event.

Compiled and edited by folklorist Norbertas Vėlius in How the Earth Came to Be: Lithuanian Etiological Legends, this tale exemplifies how mythology provided frameworks for understanding natural phenomena while reinforcing cultural values and practical knowledge.

Just after the Easter Rising, as executions of its leaders began, The Irish Times predicted that the rebellion would "pass into history with the equally unsuccessful insurrections of the past."

This raises one of history's great imponderables: what might have happened if the British had not executed the leaders? Would the widespread anger and dismay at the destruction and loss of life have subsided, or would it have fuelled ongoing resentment? Would the initial hostility towards the rebels on the streets of Dublin have persisted if the executions had not occurred, or would the leaders have become martyrs, shifting public sentiment in their favour?

The British decision to execute the leaders undoubtedly intensified support for the cause, helping to galvanise the independence movement. This case demonstrates the power of martyrdom in mythmaking and national narratives—how death in service of a cause transforms individuals into symbols that transcend their historical context, reshaping public memory and political allegiance.

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.

The reed sculpture exhibition in Amber Bay, Juodkrante, represents a sophisticated contemporary reinterpretation of ancient seasonal rituals. By combining traditional craftsmanship with public art installation, this annual event demonstrates how pre-modern mythological thinking can be adapted to serve modern cultural needs while maintaining connection to historical practices and beliefs.

Situated on the Curonian Spit, a landscape imbued with centuries of folklore and natural significance, the exhibition consciously positions itself at the intersection of nature, culture, and mythology. The deliberate timing of the display during the Autumn Equinox—a period of balance between light and darkness—connects the event to universal human patterns of marking seasonal transitions, reflecting the fundamental role of cyclical time in mythological thinking across cultures.

The sculptures themselves, crafted from local materials and displayed on water, embody transformation—a central theme in mythological narratives worldwide. Rising from the water, they evoke the common mythological motif of emergence, while their illumination during the festival creates a visual metaphor for enlightenment or revelation. The use of amber in the regional context further layers the symbolism, incorporating a material that has itself been mythologised in Baltic cultures as the tears of gods or goddesses.

This exhibition exemplifies how contemporary societies continue to create ritual spaces that serve functions similar to those of traditional mythological practices—marking time, connecting communities to landscapes, and creating shared experiences that transcend ordinary reality. The merger of art, nature, and local history in this context demonstrates that mythological thinking remains a vital force in contemporary culture, adapting ancient patterns to address modern needs for meaning and connection.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA), one of Belgium's most significant cultural institutions, houses a remarkable pencil sketch titled Mercury and Argus by Jean Antoine Verschaeren, depicting a pivotal scene from classical mythology.

This artwork captures the dramatic moment from Ovid's Metamorphoses when Mercury (Hermes in Greek mythology), sent by Jupiter (Zeus), uses his cunning to lull the hundred-eyed giant Argus to sleep with an enchanted flute before slaying him. In the original myth, Argus had been assigned by Juno (Hera) to guard the nymph Io, whom Jupiter had transformed into a heifer to conceal his infidelity.

Verschaeren's rendering demonstrates how mythological narratives have continually inspired visual artists across centuries, providing a rich vocabulary of symbolic scenes that carry complex meanings about power, deception, and divine intervention. The sketch exemplifies the artist's mastery of light, shadow, and emotional expression within the constraints of the medium.

This piece belongs to the museum's extensive collection of works that interpret classical mythology, revealing how these ancient narratives remained culturally relevant long after the decline of the civilisations that created them. Through such artistic interpretations, mythological stories continue to evolve, acquiring new layers of meaning while preserving their essential narrative structure.