Whilst hosting a recent session of a Dagda centred mentor group at the Irish Pagan School, I happened to quip that the ‘Good God’ was so powerful and connected with the elemental forces of our world that maybe he would be the answer to that most famous of Lovecraftian horrors, Cthulhu. Of course I had to follow up such a wild supposition with citation… and so I present to you the tale of the Dagda and the sea monster.
✨ Post by Jon O’Sullivan
The Lore of Names and Places
As with many things the first stop on our exploration is of course the lore. The text we are looking for comes from segments of the old Irish stories known as the Metrical Dindshenchas, which is translated to mean the lore of names and places. This collected lore comes from many sources such as the book of Leinster, the yellow book of Lecan, the book of Ballymote and many more.
The layout of these segments conform to one of the oldest structures of knowledge from the times of Ireland oral histories and that is the ‘Ceist’ or question.
A bard, poet, or File was expected to have these stories memorised so that at any gathering they could be put to the ‘Ceist’ and judged for their level of recollection but also the manner in which the memory was recited or performed. By tradition a person placed under a question was obliged to start their reply with the words ‘Ní hAnsa’ or ‘not hard to say’.
In this way we find our tale of the Dagda and the sea monster. Not presented as part of some larger epic, but instead existing as a recollection of a deed which shaped the very landscape of the island. A deed of such prowess that the name of that place was forever recalled in connection to it.
Mag Muirthemne, whence the name?
Mag Muirthemne, whence the name? Not hard to say. The sea covered it thirty years after the Flood, and hence it is called Muirthemne, that is, ‘darkness of the sea’, or ‘it is under the sea’s roof’. Or there was a magic sea over it, and an octopus therein, having a property of suction. It would suck in a man in armour till he lay at the bottom of its treasure-bag. The Dagda came with his ‘mace of wrath’ in his hand, and plunged it down upon the octopus, and chanted these words: ‘Turn thy hollow head! Turn thy ravening body! Turn thy resorbent forehead! Avaunt! Begone!’ Then the magic sea retired with the octopus; and hence, may be, the place was called Mag Muirthemne.
https://celt.ucc.ie/published/T106500D/text099.html
The above translation comes from the work of Edward Gwynn, an Irish scholar of Old Irish and Celtic literature. He served as both the Provost of Trinity College Dublin and President of the Royal Irish Academy, both bodies very interested in collecting, collating, and translating Ireland’s oldest manuscripts.
Though this segment of the lore refers to a being from the Mythical cycle of Irish lore, it is actually connected to the later Ulster cycle as the plain of Mag Muirthemne is believed to be in county Louth which fell under the territory of the Ulster warrior Cú Chulainn. This shows that even in the later tales, the memories of the mythical era are still recalled and referenced.
So let’s get back to the Dagda and the sea monster in particular.
A ‘Good God’ of Great Power
So we have cited our sources and clarified the content and context, but does this make the Dagda a fit opponent for Cthulhu? Here is where we step over the line into fiction folks, just to be clear in our supposition.
To do more than a simple declared bias for the Dagda, we would need to do a complete comparative analysis, but given the problematic nature of the H.P. Lovecraft we will not be directing any in depth energies towards his works.
In short though, Cthulhu is said to be a malevolent or amoral water elemental, hibernating in a city under the ocean. It is often referred to as an ‘Ancient One’ or ‘Elder God’ and is worshipped by cultists who are aware of the existential horror that is Lovecraft’s fictional reality. It is described as a colossal horror, with webbed human-like arms and legs, draconic wings, and the tentacled head of a giant octopus.
The creature in Mag Muirthemne is also found in other versions of this tale and it is named in some, and no it’s not Cthulhu, its referred to as the Mata.
In all of these tales though this monster has come upon the land of Ireland and brought with it a magical ocean. Any who traverse this water, or caught when it arrived were sucked down and drowned, that is of course until our hero the Dagda arrives.
The Dagda is referred to as the ‘good God of druidry’ by the other Tuatha Dé Danann, and is possessed of abilities that rival all others during the Second Battle at Moytura.
From the druids, to sorcerers to cup bearers, whatever talents they offered, from having the mountains hurl rocks at the fomorian invaders, to raining fire from the skies, to hiding all the lakes and rivers of Ireland, The Dagda agrees to take on all of these labours for his people and none question him. Neither his ability nor his resolve.
>>> Learn More! Dagda Class Information is Here
Also in another tale where the Dagda takes up the club with the power of life and death, we have a declaration of his own abilities. In this tale he offers an oath and guarantees a promise based against his powers. In this he states that he has ‘authority over Sun and Moon, Land and Sea.’
So in both instances he has the power to keep the waters on the island away from invaders and authority in his control over the sea and the orbiting body which has the largest impact on tides in our world, the moon.
A Headache Worthy of Hibernation
At this point it might be easy to see where we are going but all of this is made really clear in our tale as the Dagda doesn’t just slay a sea monster, he banishes it as well as the waters it had brought from the land.
‘Turn thy hollow head! Turn thy ravening body! Turn thy resorbent forehead! Avaunt! Begone!’
The monster had an octopus head as well as a ‘ravening body’. For most folks seeing an octopus it seems mostly just a head with many tentacles. The Dagda faces a beast that is vastly powerful and dangerous such that many warriors had been sucked below the waves into its treasure bag. Yet against our good God, the sea monster is no match for the powers he possesses.
With a chanting of his words, the working of his terrible ‘mace of wrath’ the Dagda ‘plunged it down upon the octopus’ and sent the beast and its magical waves out of Ireland and into the oceans.
Now.
We know that many authors take inspiration from the older stories and myths in their works. For example, we can trace the Arthurian tale of sir Gawain and the green knight back to the Ulster cycle of Irish lore, of the romance of Tristan and Isolde, could be the tragedy of Diarmuid and Grainne from the Leinster cycle.
Might it not be the case then that some fraction of Cthulhu mythos also comes from some older tales somewhere, and though it is obviously a stretch given Lovecraft’s attitudes towards the Irish, might not the Mata be the inspiration of his famous monstrosity?
Could it be that Cthulhu is hibernating off the worst headache of his ancient existence… thanks to the deed of the Dagda?
Who is to say for sure, but it’s often entertaining to consider the places where myth and fiction intersect. In my opinion though, should some eldritch horror ever actually begin to rise, I know who I’m gonna call.
For me, there would be no real competition between the Dagda and the sea monster.