Lir, a notable figure in Irish mythology, is famously recognized as the father of the children who were transformed into swans due to the nefarious actions of their stepmother, Aoife, in the narrative known as “The Children of Lir.” This is a tale I share sparingly, often referring to it simply as “Aoife’s Tale.”
To briefly convey the essence of this well-known story: Following the death of Aobh, the mother of four children, Lir attempts to find solace in marrying Aoife, Aobh’s sister. Consumed by jealousy over Lir’s affection for his children, Aoife weaves a curse that turns them into swans. In this cursed form, they drift across the waters between Ireland and Scotland for nine centuries. Eventually, they regain their human shape, only to discover they are now old and frail. Thankfully, during their long ordeal, Ireland has transitioned to Christianity, allowing them to be baptized and receive a proper Christian burial.
While this tale captivates and moves audiences, I find that some retellings gloss over the grave horrors embedded within the story. It underscores profound dislocation and the harsh choices thrust upon individuals amidst warfare and existential threats. Though the Tuatha Dé Danaan possess magical qualities, they are not exempt from suffering. Their hubris led to the killing of Ireland’s first human visitor. This act of violence initiated a series of invasions, ultimately resulting in the defeat and massacre of the Tuatha Dé Danaan. The survivors, grappling with their newfound reality, strive to coalesce around a leadership figure, but their ranks are diminished and torn apart by division and paranoia. Among the powerful faction leaders emerges Lir. To prevent a civil dispute, the ruling king, Bodb Dearg, suggests a compromise: If Lir recognizes him as king, Bodb Dearg will permit him to marry one of his three foster daughters. Lir accepts and marries Aobh, who later bears him four children before passing away. Concerned that Lir’s sorrow might disrupt the Tuatha Dé Danaan’s stability, Bodb Dearg proposes Aoife as a substitute for Aobh. Thus lies the heart of the narrative—the lives of women manipulated as pawns in the political arena.
In my retelling, Aoife and Lir share a passionate romance, and Aoife cherishes her stepchildren as deeply as Lir does. Yet her contentment is elusive. After being overshadowed by Aobh, she yearns for a grander, more radiant love. This aspiration is understandable and even admirable, yet it morphs into a destructive obsession; a desire for a child of her own becomes her focal point. Upon failing to conceive, despair consumes her.
Aoife’s character bears striking similarities to Medea, the renowned Greek princess. While Aoife binds herself to Lir to stave off civil strife, Medea binds her fate to Jason the Argonaut to ensure his triumph in his endeavors. After committing betrayal against her kin and country, Medea escapes to Corinth with Jason, where they marry. Although Medea does bear children and ostensibly completes her life, her world shatters when Jason agrees to abandon her for the daughter of Corinth’s king. Both women find their autonomy severely limited in a patriarchal society. In Medea’s case, this realization spirals into a vengeful fury; she employs her children as instruments of gruesome retribution against Jason and his new love. Conversely, Aoife also seeks vengeance by turning against her stepchildren, although she spares their lives, perhaps out of a twisted sense of mercy.
While “The City beneath the Waves” reflects both the dangers and splendors intertwined in our existence, “The Children of Lir”/”Aoife’s Tale” stands as an enduring indictment of warfare and patriarchal violence. Although Aoife is a figure of legend, this narrative reveals potent realities: the aftermath of conflict and trauma lingers long after peace is established; the echoes of violence resonate and persist even in tranquil times. This resonates as a truth that is both contemporary and historical.
Stay tuned for Rab’s final blog: Never-Ending Stories.
