Discover the MythCloud

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Stanisław Wyspiański in 1935—exemplifies how nationalist movements often generate new mythological symbols that blend historical references with contemporary political aspirations.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.

This Lithuanian sakmė, or etiological folk tale, provides a mythological explanation for why lightning strikes trees, particularly tall ones. Such narratives represent humanity's enduring attempt to understand natural phenomena through storytelling before scientific explanations were available.

According to the tale, Perkūnas, the powerful thunder god of Baltic mythology, possessed a pile of stones. When a devil stole one to use in his shed's foundation, Perkūnas became enraged and began striking everywhere in pursuit of the thief. This cosmic conflict manifested in the natural world as lightning strikes.

The devil, attempting to escape Perkūnas' wrath, would hide on stones, in trees, or while swimming. To evade detection, he would climb higher onto stones or ascend taller trees to better spot Perkūnas approaching. This behaviour explains the observation that lightning often strikes the tallest trees in a landscape—the devil's preferred hiding places attracts Perkūnas' vengeful bolts.

This narrative reflects the pre-scientific understanding that tall objects are indeed more likely to be struck by lightning, though explained through mythological rather than physical principles. The tale served both explanatory and cautionary functions, warning people against standing under high trees during storms while providing a comprehensible framework for understanding frightening natural occurrences.

The story exemplifies how mythological narratives often contain accurate observational knowledge embedded within supernatural explanations. Compiled by folklorist Norbertas Vėlius in How the Earth Came to Be: Lithuanian Etiological Legends, this tale represents part of Lithuania's rich heritage of nature mythology that connected human experience to cosmic patterns and natural phenomena.

Olga Tokarczuk's Nobel Prize acceptance speech, "The Tender Narrator", delivered in December 2019, addresses the crisis of narrative in our information-saturated age. As one of contemporary literature's most significant voices, Tokarczuk uses this global platform to examine how storytelling structures have fractured in modern society and to propose a renewed approach to narrative.

Tokarczuk contemplates the paradoxical consequences of universal access to information, observing how it has overwhelmed our capacity to process knowledge meaningfully. She critiques the prevalence of superficial thinking in an era of instant information access, where facts accumulate without cohering into wisdom. More troublingly, she notes the absence of new metaphors, fables, and shared myths that might help us navigate our complex reality.

Her speech explores literature's vital role in an age of fragmentation, emphasising its unique ability to offer alternative perspectives and examine the complexity of human experience. Literature, she argues, provides crucial insight into the interconnectedness of all things while fostering a "tender" approach to understanding—one that embraces complexity rather than reducing it to simplistic narratives.

Tokarczuk identifies a fundamental problem: our lack of language to describe modern complexities creates a void that literature must strive to fill. This perspective speaks directly to the condition of contemporary discourse, where meaningful narratives are often obscured by the noise of media, politics, and unchecked information flows.

By advocating for a reimagining of literature's role, Tokarczuk proposes that new forms of storytelling can help us understand our rapidly changing world. Her speech stands as a powerful argument for narrative as an essential tool for making sense of human experience in all its complexity.

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 in Antwerp (KMSKA), one of Belgium's foremost cultural institutions dating back to 1810, houses A Bronze Sculpture Depicting the Mythical Beast Sphinx, Inventory No. 3079, by Belgian sculptor Rik Poot (1924-2006).

This sculpture exemplifies Poot's fascination with mythological themes and his distinctive ability to convey a sense of mystery and power through dynamic sculptural forms. The Sphinx, a legendary creature with origins in ancient Egyptian mythology that later found expression in Greek tradition, typically features a lion's body with a human head, symbolising the enigmatic and the unknowable.

In Greek mythology, the Sphinx is most famous for posing a riddle to travellers approaching Thebes, devouring those who failed to answer correctly until Oedipus solved the puzzle. This association with riddles and wisdom made the Sphinx a potent symbol of the mysterious and the intellectual throughout Western art history.

Poot's interpretation likely draws on this rich symbolic tradition while incorporating his personal artistic vision. Known for creating sculptures with expressive surfaces and powerful presence, his treatment of the Sphinx would emphasise both its physical power and its symbolic resonance as a guardian of hidden knowledge.

Bronze, with its durability and ability to capture fine detail while conveying mass and weight, serves as an ideal medium for representing this mythological being. The material connects Poot's modern work to ancient sculptural traditions while allowing for contemporary artistic expression and interpretation.

This piece demonstrates how mythological subjects continue to inspire artistic creation across centuries, providing vehicles for exploring universal themes of knowledge, mystery, and the boundaries between the human and the monstrous.

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.

Adrian Musiał's Mitologia współczesnych Polaków (Mythology of Contemporary Poles) examines how modern Polish political discourse shapes national identity through the strategic reinterpretation of historical events. The work, supported by the Foundation for Polish-German Cooperation, provides a critical analysis of political mythmaking in post-communist Poland.

Central to Musiał's analysis are the myths surrounding the "cursed soldiers" (anti-communist resistance fighters active after World War II) and the 2010 Smolensk air disaster, which killed President Lech Kaczyński and 95 others. Both narratives have been leveraged by political actors to advance specific ideological agendas, demonstrating how historical events are transformed into mythological structures that serve present political needs.

Musiał's explores how these events are reinterpreted to evoke national pride, sacrifice, and resilience, while simultaneously functioning as tools for consolidating political power. The "cursed soldiers" narrative, for instance, has been transformed from a complex historical episode into a simplified tale of heroic resistance against communist oppression, obscuring moral ambiguities and controversial actions.

Through his critical lens, Musiał reveals how these manipulated myths become deeply ingrained in Poland's collective memory and national consciousness. He argues that such narratives are not merely historical retellings but powerful instruments in ongoing political discourse, designed to strengthen social cohesion among certain groups while excluding others.

The work invites readers to consider how mythology functions in contemporary politics, demonstrating that the creation and dissemination of national myths is not confined to ancient civilisations but remains a vital aspect of modern political communication and identity formation.

This Lithuanian sakmė, or etiological legend, offers a mythological explanation for the appearance of the Milky Way, demonstrating how pre-scientific cultures interpreted celestial phenomena through narrative frameworks that connected human concerns with cosmic patterns.

According to this folk tale, the light band visible in the night sky during autumn is known in Lithuanian tradition as the Bird's Way (Paukščių takas), a celestial pathway that guides migrating birds southward. The narrative explains that since birds cannot navigate clearly during their long journey, God created this celestial illumination to help them find their way. The seasonal appearance of this light corresponds with autumn migration patterns, reinforcing the connection between observable natural phenomena and the mythological explanation.

the origins and causes of natural phenomena through accessible narratives that integrate spiritual beliefs with empirical observation. In this case, the tale connects the visual pattern of the Milky Way with the seasonal movement of birds, creating a coherent explanation that reinforces the belief in divine concern for all creatures.

The narrative reflects the deep connection between celestial and terrestrial realms in Lithuanian mythology, where cosmic phenomena are often understood as manifestations of divine intervention in the natural world. By interpreting the Milky Way as a divinely created navigational aid, the legend emphasises the interconnectedness of all living beings within a harmonious cosmic order.

This sakmė appears in How the Earth Came to Be: Lithuanian Etiological Legends (Kaip atsirado žemė: lietuvių etiologinės sakmės), compiled and edited by the noted Lithuanian folklorist Norbertas Vėlius, representing an important element of Lithuania's rich tradition of nature mythology.

Luigi Serafini's Codex Seraphinianus (1981) represents one of the most ambitious examples of invented mythology in modern times. This illustrated encyclopedia of an imaginary world, written in an invented language and filled with surreal illustrations of bizarre flora, fauna, and technologies, demonstrates the persistent human drive to create comprehensive symbolic systems even in an age dominated by scientific rationalism.

The Codex's resemblance to real historical mysteries like the Voynich manuscript positions it within a tradition of boundary-crossing texts that challenge conventional categorisations. By creating a work that mimics scientific documentation while depicting impossible creatures and phenomena, Serafini blurs the distinction between factual recording and imaginative creation—calling attention to how all systems of knowledge involve elements of both.

Particularly significant is Serafini's revelation that the text is intentionally asemic—resembling writing but carrying no specific meaning. This approach creates an experience similar to what children feel when confronted with texts they cannot yet comprehend, positioning readers in a state of productive confusion that stimulates imaginative engagement. The work thus becomes a meditation on the relationship between knowledge, imagination, and the limitations of human understanding.

The Codex's structure—covering natural phenomena, human activities, and abstract concepts—mirrors traditional encyclopedias while subverting their claim to comprehensive factual authority. By creating detailed illustrations of bleeding fruits, chair-plants, and humans with tools grafted onto their bodies, Serafini invites viewers to question the boundaries we draw between natural and artificial, possible and impossible. The work's enduring appeal demonstrates the continued human fascination with comprehensive mythological systems, even in an age where scientific explanation has largely displaced traditional mythology as the dominant explanatory framework.

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 1 examines the critical emergence of Irish national identity during the struggle for independence, revealing how new nations craft foundational myths to establish legitimacy. The narratives constructed during this period reflect a deliberate process of mythmaking essential to nation-building, with resistance and self-determination becoming central motifs in Ireland's emerging story of itself.

Seán Ó Mórdha's series presents Ireland's evolution as an intricate interplay between historical realities and collective self-perception, demonstrating how cultural narratives function as essential tools in national formation. The series brilliantly illustrates how societies construct meaningful narratives from historical raw material, selecting and emphasising certain elements while downplaying others to create a coherent national identity.

Each episode explores critical junctures that shaped modern Ireland's self-conception, showing how nations require not just political structures but also shared stories to bind citizens together in common purpose. The series is enriched by interviews with influential figures including former Presidents Patrick Hillery and Mary Robinson, and former Taoisigh who themselves participated in Ireland's evolving story.

By examining the dialectic between historical events and evolving national mythologies, the series offers a sophisticated understanding of how narratives serve both to reflect and to create social realities. First broadcast in 2000, Seven Ages remains a valuable resource for understanding how national identities are consciously crafted and unconsciously absorbed, showing that the stories we tell about our origins profoundly shape our understanding of who we are and what we might become.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA) houses an ink drawing titled Pegasus, Inventory No. 3265/8, by Alfred Ost (1884-1945), a Belgian artist known for his distinctive graphic style and particular interest in animal subjects.

This drawing depicts the mythical winged horse from Greek mythology, a creature with a rich symbolic history spanning thousands of years of cultural development. In classical mythology, Pegasus emerged from the blood of the Gorgon Medusa after she was beheaded by the hero Perseus. The winged horse has most famously been associated with the hero Bellerophon, who captured and rode Pegasus in his quest to defeat the monstrous Chimera.

Beyond heroic narratives, Pegasus is traditionally linked to poetic inspiration. According to myth, he created the spring Hippocrene on Mount Helicon with a strike of his hoof, establishing a fountain that granted poetic inspiration to those who drank from it. This association led to Pegasus becoming a symbol of artistic inspiration and the transcendent power of imagination across Western cultural tradition.

Ost's rendering likely captures the dynamic essence of this mythical creature, emphasising its elegance and power through the expressive potential of the ink medium. The artist's known affinity for portraying animals with sympathy and insight would have informed his approach to this mythological subject.

The drawing represents the continued resonance of classical mythological figures in modern artistic practice, demonstrating how ancient symbolic creatures maintain their power to inspire creative interpretation across changing artistic movements and periods.

The exhibition How to Talk to the Weather Demons offers a sophisticated exploration of how Slavic mythological frameworks can provide meaningful perspectives on contemporary environmental challenges. By focusing on weather demons known as "płanetnicy," who traditionally governed atmospheric conditions in Slavic folklore, the exhibition creates conceptual bridges between pre-modern understanding of environmental forces and current climate concerns, demonstrating how mythological thinking continues to offer valuable frameworks for addressing complex contemporary issues.

The exhibition's emphasis on humanity's growing urgency to understand and control nature reflects how environmental crises prompt renewed engagement with fundamental questions about human relationship to natural systems. By connecting contemporary concerns about flooding, droughts, and weather anomalies to traditional mythological frameworks, the exhibition demonstrates how ancient storytelling patterns continue to provide meaningful structures for conceptualising human-environment relationships even in ostensibly scientific contexts.

Water's centrality to the exhibition—positioned simultaneously as vital life source and threatened common resource—creates powerful symbolic focus that connects abstract environmental concerns to immediate human experience. This dual framing exemplifies how effective contemporary mythology often identifies specific elements that can function simultaneously as literal necessities and powerful metaphors, creating points of connection between abstract global challenges and concrete local experiences.

By framing environmental degradation as problem requiring "collective, respectful approach to nature," the exhibition aligns with traditional mythological understanding of natural forces as entities requiring proper relationship rather than mere resources for exploitation. This reframing exemplifies how ancient mythological perspectives can provide alternative conceptual frameworks for addressing contemporary challenges, offering correctives to dominant paradigms that have contributed to current environmental crises. The exhibition thus demonstrates how mythological thinking continues to evolve to address changing circumstances while maintaining connection to established patterns of understanding human relationship to natural forces.

The line "Oi, kad aš gertau dieną, naktelę" translates to 'Oh, if I could drink all day and night' in English, offering a glimpse into the candid expressions of desire and longing that characterise much of Lithuanian folk tradition.

This lyric comes from a traditional Lithuanian folk song recorded by Jonas Basanavičius (1851-1927), a pivotal figure in the Lithuanian National Revival who devoted his life to documenting and preserving Lithuanian cultural heritage. The song was collected from villagers in Dziegcioriai during Basanavičius's extensive fieldwork in the late 19th century, a period when Lithuanian national identity was being consciously reclaimed and reasserted after centuries of political domination by neighbouring powers.

The song's theme of drinking reflects the social realities of rural life, where alcohol often featured prominently in celebrations, community gatherings, and as a means of coping with hardship. Folk songs addressing drinking frequently navigate complex emotional terrain, expressing everything from celebratory joy to melancholic escape from difficult circumstances.

This particular lyric's power lies in its directness and the universal human desire it captures—the wish to indulge without constraint or consequence. The expression of such yearnings in folk music provided a culturally sanctioned outlet for sentiments that might otherwise remain unspoken in everyday life.

Preserved by the Lithuanian Literature and Folklore Institute's Lithuanian Folklore Archive, this song represents an important element of Lithuania's intangible cultural heritage. Such archives play a crucial role in maintaining connections to traditional cultural expressions that might otherwise be lost in the transition to modern society.

Féile na Bealtaine, established in 1994 by Dr. Micheál Fanning on the Dingle Peninsula, exemplifies how contemporary cultural festivals reinterpret traditional seasonal celebrations to address modern community needs. Named after the ancient Celtic festival marking the beginning of summer, this annual event demonstrates how pre-Christian ritual frameworks continue to provide meaningful structures for community gathering and cultural expression in secular contexts.

The festival's emphasis on bilingualism and diverse artistic expression creates a sophisticated synthesis of tradition and innovation. By showcasing a wide range of art forms while remaining rooted in rural community life, Féile na Bealtaine exemplifies how effective contemporary cultural practices balance connection to heritage with responsiveness to changing artistic and social conditions. This balance enables the festival to function simultaneously as preservation of cultural tradition and as platform for artistic experimentation and development.

Particularly significant is the festival's function as "artistic home" for local performers and platform for collaboration. This aspect reflects the traditional role of seasonal gatherings as opportunities for community members to share creative expression while developing connections across social boundaries. The emphasis on creativity as "community medicine" articulates an understanding of artistic expression as essential component of social and psychological wellbeing rather than mere entertainment or luxury.

The festival's annual cycle—six months of preparation followed by six months of rest—consciously echoes the seasonal rhythms that structured traditional agricultural societies. This deliberate alignment with natural cycles creates temporal continuity between contemporary cultural practice and traditional observances, demonstrating how ancient patterns of marking time continue to provide meaningful frameworks for modern community life. The festival thus exemplifies how traditional mythological frameworks evolve through creative reinterpretation, maintaining connection to historical patterns while addressing contemporary circumstances and needs.

Norman Davies, the renowned historian and expert on Polish history, explores the deep-rooted national myths that have shaped Poland's identity through centuries of struggle and sovereignty. In his lecture Polish National Mythologies, Davies identifies four key myths that have resonated with the Polish people across various historical contexts, functioning as frameworks for understanding national experience and identity.

The Polak-Catholica myth positions Poland as a defender of Catholicism, casting the nation as a spiritual fortress for Europe, particularly during periods when religious identity became intertwined with resistance to foreign domination. Similarly, the Antemurale myth frames Poland as a bulwark against external threats, from medieval Mongol invaders to modern ideological enemies like communism. Both narratives emphasise Poland's role as a protector of European religious and cultural traditions against perceived existential threats.

The Piast myth connects Polish identity with agricultural roots, identifying the nation with the soil and peasantry as the foundation of authentic national character. This narrative emphasises continuity with medieval origins and the primacy of rural values in defining Polishness. Complementing this, the Wernyhora myth promotes a vision of harmonious coexistence among multiple nationalities within Central Europe, advocating for unity and shared destiny among the region's diverse peoples.

These four mythological frameworks have been strategically mobilised by various political groups throughout Polish history, adapted to address the challenges of different eras—whether resisting foreign invasion, asserting national independence, or fostering internal cohesion. Through these narratives, Poland has constructed a resilient collective identity deeply interwoven with historical experience, providing interpretive frameworks for understanding the nation's complex relationship with Europe and its own multicultural past.

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. Each episode journeys through diverse cultural narratives, revealing how understanding our traditional heritage can illuminate our present and guide our future. By uncovering the stories, beliefs, and practices embedded in folklore, the podcast invites listeners to discover the depth and complexity of our shared cultural inheritance.

Cú Chulainn & The Táin
The Ulster Cycle represents one of Ireland's most significant mythological traditions, offering insights into pre-Christian Irish cultural values while demonstrating the complex processes through which oral traditions are transformed through textual preservation. The transition of these narratives from oral performance to monastic manuscript represents a crucial moment in the evolution of Irish cultural memory, preserving ancient traditions while inevitably transforming them through new media and interpretive frameworks.

The central figure of Cú Chulainn—a heroic demigod who single-handedly defends Ulster against Queen Meadhbh's advancing armies—exemplifies the ambiguous ontological status of mythological heroes who exist at the boundary between human and divine realms. His supernatural abilities and battlefield transformations (notably his "warp-spasm") position him as a liminal figure who embodies both human limitations and superhuman potential. This liminality allows him to function simultaneously as ancestral exemplar and aspirational ideal, connecting human communities to divine sources of power.

The similarities between these Irish narratives and ancient Greek and Indo-European traditions point to the deeper historical connections between seemingly distinct mythological systems. These parallels suggest common cultural origins while highlighting how similar narrative patterns adapt to specific cultural contexts, developing distinctive characteristics while maintaining recognisable underlying structures. This comparative perspective enhances our understanding of how mythological narratives function across cultural boundaries.

The playful framing of the podcast, with hosts Claire Doohan and Jonny Dillon engaging in "bitter dispute on the nature of heroic spirit," demonstrates how ancient mythological narratives continue to provoke meaningful debate in contemporary contexts. Their engagement with these materials exemplifies how mythological traditions maintain cultural relevance by providing frameworks for exploring enduring human questions about courage, duty, violence, and community, adapting ancient wisdom to address contemporary concerns.

This Lithuanian folk song, recorded by the eminent 19th-century scholar Jonas Basanavičius from villagers in Laukagaliai, represents a crucial moment in the preservation of Baltic oral traditions. The documentation of such cultural expressions occurred at a time when traditional rural practices faced increasing challenges from modernisation and political suppression, making this collection not merely academic documentation but an act of cultural preservation with nationalist implications.

The rooster—a common motif in folk songs across cultures—typically symbolises vigilance, dawn, and new beginnings. In Baltic contexts, this symbolism often carried additional associations with solar mythology and seasonal renewal, reflecting agricultural communities' profound connection to natural cycles. The preservation of songs featuring such symbolism provides valuable insight into how traditional societies encoded environmental understanding and cultural values within aesthetic expressions integrated into daily life.

The archival preservation of both audio recording and visual documentation transforms what was originally a living, performed tradition into a documented cultural artifact. This transition from communal performance to institutional preservation represents a fundamental shift in how cultural expressions function and are transmitted, while simultaneously ensuring their survival beyond the communities that originally created them.

The accessibility of these materials through the Lithuanian Literature and Folklore Institute reflects evolving attitudes toward folkloric heritage, which has acquired renewed significance in post-Soviet contexts as crucial evidence of national cultural distinctiveness. The preservation of such materials thus serves not just scholarly purposes but contributes to ongoing processes of national identity formation, demonstrating how historical cultural practices continue to inform contemporary understanding of Lithuanian distinctiveness within broader Baltic and European contexts.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA), one of Belgium's premier cultural institutions, houses The Fall of Pegasus, Inventory No. 3322/1, a painting by Bill Orix that depicts a dramatic moment from Greek mythology rarely featured in artistic representation.

In classical mythology, Pegasus, the winged horse born from the blood of Medusa after her beheading by Perseus, is most commonly portrayed in his heroic aspects—carrying the thunderbolts of Zeus, helping Bellerophon defeat the Chimera, or creating the Hippocrene spring on Mount Helicon with a strike of his hoof. However, the mythology also includes accounts of Pegasus's downfall, which appears to be the subject of Orix's painting.

According to some versions of the myth, Bellerophon, having successfully tamed Pegasus and accomplished various heroic feats with his aid, became arrogant and attempted to fly to Mount Olympus on the winged horse's back. This hubristic act angered Zeus, who sent a gadfly to sting Pegasus, causing the horse to buck and throw Bellerophon to his death. Pegasus himself continued to Olympus, where he served Zeus by carrying his thunderbolts.

Alternatively, some accounts describe Pegasus eventually falling from the sky due to the intervention of the gods, perhaps as a consequence of his association with Bellerophon's pride or as part of a separate mythological episode. This fall represents the classic mythological theme of punishment for hubris—the dangerous pride that leads mortals or their allies to transgress divine boundaries.

Orix's painting captures this dramatic moment of divine intervention and consequent fall, illustrating how mythological narratives often served as vehicles for exploring themes of human limitation, divine power, and the consequences of overreaching ambition.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts in Antwerp (KMSKA), a major cultural institution in Belgium, houses the ink drawing Youth Orpheus, Inventory No. 2711/40, by James Ensor (1860-1949), one of Belgium's most innovative and influential modern artists.

This drawing depicts Orpheus, the legendary musician and poet from Greek mythology whose enchanting music could charm all living things, even inanimate objects. The Orpheus myth has been a recurring subject in Western art for centuries, symbolising the transcendent power of music and poetry and the artist's unique ability to bridge the mundane and divine realms.

By focusing specifically on the youth of Orpheus, Ensor's work likely depicts the legendary figure before his famous descent to the underworld to retrieve his beloved Eurydice—capturing a period of innocence and potential before tragedy. This approach allows for an exploration of artistic identity and the formative development of creative power.

Ensor's interpretation would reflect his distinctive artistic vision, which often blended traditional subjects with expressionistic and sometimes surreal elements. Known for his phantasmagorical style and psychological intensity, Ensor frequently used traditional or mythological subjects as vehicles for exploring modern existential concerns and his personal artistic philosophy.

The medium of ink drawing, with its emphasis on line and contrast, would have provided Ensor with opportunities for both delicate detail and bold expression, allowing him to render this classical subject with his characteristic combination of technical skill and emotional intensity.

This work represents an important example of how mythological themes continued to inspire artistic innovation throughout the modernist period, with classical figures like Orpheus serving as enduring symbols for exploring the nature of art and the artist's role in society.

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.

This 17th-century engraving depicting Hercules slaying the Hydra, created by Christoffel Jegher after a design by Peter Paul Rubens, exemplifies how classical mythological subjects continued to provide powerful symbolic frameworks for exploring human triumph over adversity in Baroque European culture. Based on Rubens' ceiling painting for London's Banqueting Hall, the print demonstrates how heroic narratives from Greek mythology were adapted to serve new cultural and political functions in early modern contexts.

The Hydra—a multi-headed serpent that grew two heads for each one cut off—represents a particularly powerful symbol of seemingly insurmountable challenges that require both strength and strategy to overcome. By depicting Hercules in the moment of victory, with an angel crowning him, the image creates visual rhetoric celebrating the triumph of heroic virtue over chaotic forces. This narrative framework provided Baroque audiences with compelling model for conceptualising human struggle against complex threats that resist straightforward solutions.

The collaborative nature of this work—Rubens providing the design, Jegher executing the engraving—exemplifies how printmaking facilitated broader circulation of mythological imagery during this period. By translating designs originally accessible only to elite audiences into more widely available prints, this process democratised access to mythological narratives and their associated symbolic frameworks. This wider circulation played crucial role in maintaining the cultural currency of classical references across diverse social contexts.

The engraving's impressive scale (620 x 382 mm) and the notation that it was published "with Rubens' privilege" indicates its significance as both artistic achievement and commercial product. The preservation of this print in the Museum Plantin-Moretus collection reflects ongoing cultural interest in understanding how classical mythological narratives were adapted to address changing cultural circumstances while maintaining connection to established symbolic traditions. The image thus provides valuable insight into how mythological frameworks continued to provide meaningful ways of conceptualising human experience during a period of profound political and religious transformation.

Peter Paul Rubens' Bacchus, Satyr and a Faun represents a sophisticated engagement with classical mythology during the Baroque period, revealing how ancient narratives were continuously reinterpreted to address contemporary aesthetic and philosophical concerns. The work demonstrates the persistence of mythological thinking even in ostensibly Christian European societies, where pagan figures continued to serve as powerful vehicles for exploring aspects of human experience.

Bacchus, the Roman god of wine and ecstasy, functions in this work as a symbol of sensual liberation and the dissolution of ordinary boundaries—themes that resonated with Baroque sensibilities despite their pagan origins. Rubens' portrayal of Bacchus supported by mythological companions creates a visual narrative of divine intoxication that operates simultaneously as religious allegory, classical reference, and exploration of human desire.

The supporting figures—a satyr and faun—embody the liminal space between human and animal, civilisation and wilderness, that characterises much mythological thinking. Their hybrid nature serves as a visual representation of the boundaries that Bacchic worship was understood to dissolve, suggesting the transformation of consciousness that accompanies religious ecstasy or intoxication.

Rubens' engagement with this mythological subject matter reflects the complex relationship between Christianity and classical tradition in European intellectual history. Rather than rejecting pagan narratives, artists and thinkers incorporated them into a syncretic cultural framework where they could explore themes that might otherwise be difficult to address directly within Christian orthodoxy. This work thus exemplifies how mythological figures and narratives persist by adapting to new cultural contexts while maintaining their essential symbolic power.

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 7 analyses how economic hardship and political turmoil in 1980s Ireland catalysed a profound reassessment of national identity. The evolution toward a more nuanced understanding of Irishness demonstrates the adaptive capacity of collective mythology, revealing how societies reformulate their self-conceptions in response to crisis without abandoning core narrative continuity.

Seán Ó Mórdha's documentary series presents this period as a crucial moment of national introspection, illustrating how challenging times often prompt societies to revise overly simplistic narratives of national character. The series shows that effective national mythologies are not rigid constructs but flexible frameworks that can accommodate complexity and contradiction.

Each episode examines critical junctures in Ireland's evolution, revealing how national stories serve both to reflect and to shape collective responses to adversity. The documentary features insights from key political figures and cultural commentators who participated in this national reassessment, offering valuable perspective on how societies consciously and unconsciously revise their foundational narratives.

By analysing how Ireland maintained narrative coherence while acknowledging greater complexity in its self-understanding, the series provides a sophisticated framework for understanding the essential role of storytelling in social resilience. First broadcast in 2000, Seven Ages remains a valuable resource for examining how national mythologies evolve to incorporate even the most challenging circumstances, demonstrating that the most enduring collective narratives are those capable of accommodating growth and change.

James Ensor's abstract painting Various Monsters exemplifies how modern artists continued to explore mythological themes through new aesthetic approaches that responded to changing intellectual and social contexts. This work, part of the Royal Museum of Fine Arts in Antwerp's collection, demonstrates Ensor's distinctive ability to blend humour with macabre elements, creating visual experiences that address profound human concerns through seemingly fantastical imagery.

Ensor's exploration of monstrous figures connects his work to a rich tradition of hybrid and liminal beings in mythology across cultures. However, his abstract treatment of these forms represents a distinctly modern approach—creating visual experiences that function symbolically rather than narratively, evoking psychological states rather than illustrating specific stories. This evolution from narrative to symbolic representation demonstrates how mythological thinking adapted to modern artistic frameworks that emphasised subjective experience over shared narrative.

The vibrant colours and imaginative forms in this work exemplify Ensor's unique position within European modernism—drawing on traditional symbolic motifs while developing highly personal visual language that influenced subsequent artistic movements. His fascination with grotesque imagery provided a means of exploring human anxiety and social hypocrisy through displaced symbolic forms that maintained connection to folkloric and mythological traditions while addressing distinctly modern psychological and social concerns.

This painting's preservation in the Royal Museum of Fine Arts in Antwerp reflects ongoing cultural interest in understanding how traditional mythological concerns evolved through modern artistic innovation. Rather than representing complete rupture with earlier symbolic traditions, Ensor's monsters demonstrate how modern art maintained connections to mythological thinking while developing new visual languages appropriate to changed social and intellectual circumstances. The work thus exemplifies how mythological elements persisted in modern artistic imagination, adapted to address contemporary psychological and social realities through innovative formal approaches.

The Zupełnie Nowa Mitologia (Completely New Mythology) exhibition at the Contemporary Art Gallery "MS44" in Świnoujście, Poland, represents a significant artistic exploration of how mythological frameworks continue to shape contemporary understanding while adapting to address modern concerns. This exhibition brings together diverse artists who engage with the concept of mythology not as ancient history but as a living, evolving system of meaning-making.

The exhibition challenges conventional understandings of mythology by blending historical narratives with contemporary issues, creating dialogue between traditional symbolic systems and present-day social, political, and environmental concerns. Through this approach, it demonstrates how mythological thinking remains relevant in the 21st century, providing frameworks for interpreting complex realities and articulating collective experiences.

Participating artists employ diverse media and aesthetic strategies to question traditional views of mythology, offering fresh perspectives on how myths influence our understanding of the world and our place within it. Their works suggest that mythological thinking is not merely a relic of pre-scientific thought but a fundamental aspect of human cognition that continues to shape perception and meaning-making in the current socio-political landscape.

By challenging the conventional boundaries of mythological storytelling, the exhibition encourages visitors to reflect on the ways in which contemporary societies continue to construct collective narratives that function as myths—providing explanatory frameworks, establishing cultural values, and creating shared points of reference that bind communities together despite increasing fragmentation and individualisation.

This exhibition offers a compelling exploration of the intersection between art, myth, and society, urging viewers to reconsider how collective memories and identities are formed and communicated in an age of rapid technological and social change. It suggests that mythology is not a static artifact but a dynamic process of cultural production that continues to evolve in response to changing circumstances and needs.