The Life and Death of a Druid Prince: The Story of Lindow Man An Archaeological Sensation. Anne Ross & Don Robins. Summit Books: New York, 1989
This is an “old“ book now as you can see from the date, written by Dr. Anne Ross, Ph.D. in archaeology and expert on the Celts, and Dr. Don Robbins, Ph.D. in solid-state chemistry and faculty of the Institute of Archaeology in the University of London. Credentials aside, the book is written for the popular audience; hence the title, “archaeological sensation.” It is, perhaps, the first of its kind, and that makes it important. Also, it’s accessible, written in the style of an historical novel, without all the archaeological jargon, and this I like.
A writerly-friend recommended it to me because I’d studied and written about Old Croghan Man for To Kill a King, another Iron Age bog body, who was unearthed by a peat cutter in June 2003. Lindow Man came first. He was discovered on Lughnasadh (August 1) 1984, and before him came the Danish bog bodies.
In this book, the authors attempt to prove that Lindow Man (called such because he was unearthed in Lindow, England) was “a Druid nobleman and priest, ritually murdered in a spectacular Celtic May Day ceremony, sacrificing his young life to appease the gods following a brutal invasion by the Roman army in what has been called ‘the darkest hour in Britain’s blackest year’.”
reconstruction of Lindow Man
What do I think of their book-long argument?
There is much conjecture. They suggest this and that, refute the argument, then make their point; a strategy that stretches a paper into a sensational book for profit. At times, I hear myself saying “that doesn’t make sense” and then they go on to tell me why it doesn’t make sense, which I already know. Such is the price of publication. I can accept their key argument, but there is a lot of filler.
The “Celtic” history is compelling and highlights much that I’ve read on Druid beliefs:
Druids were gods incarnate and could be both Druid and King.
Bards trained for up to twenty years. They memorized secret lore in triads using complex meter and rhyme
The Celts were not afraid of death as their spiritual beliefs were so strong so made incredible warriors. I envy them their strong beliefs.
They believed in reincarnation, both human and animal. In the interim, the spirit would go to a happy Otherworld of physical pleasures to await rebirth.
They performed sacrifices to ensure victory and show gratitude to the gods.
Captives from battle were sacrificed to the gods, but there were also willing sacrifices, and self-sacrifice
They believed in ancestor worship. The dead could be tricksters with potent power (think of the sidhe: faeries from passage graves)
The Druids had power over the elements. Macbeth echoes this belief.
In the end, the authors give Lindow Man a name: “Lovernios” because of his fox fur armband, and assert that he was an Irish king: a well-nourished noble, unblemished and so not a warrior, with manicured hands much like Old Croghan Man; small by our standards, 5’6” and only 154 pounds, O-blood type, an insular Celt.
The authors assert there was a trade route for Wicklow gold, supervised by the Druids, that ran from Ireland through Anglesey, Wales, into England. And this is the route “Lovernios” took to arrive in Lindow. They provide several maps and offer two appendixes: one of The Druids, and a second on Celts and Germans.
They hypothesize that “Lovernios” offered himself for sacrifice on Beltane in 60AD in a desperate attempt to stop the Romans who had already taken control over much of England. This makes sense to me.
There is an excellent piece on the Celtic Queen Boudica of the Iceni. “She was flogged and her daughters raped, and she vowed bloody vengeance” (87). Boudica sacked three provincial cities, including London, but was defeated, fled, and committed suicide. I’m intrigued by Boudica and want to know more. Why hasn’t her movie been made?
The reason for sacrifice must be epic: a life and death situation, not just for one but for all. Either bad weather and crop failure equaling slow starvation, poor decision-making, or invasion. In this case, the Roman invasion of Britain could be motivation for such a sacrifice. The Roman force was just too strong.
Lindow Man ate charred pancakes, and drank water with mistletoe, as was customary for sacrifice, and died a Triple Death (as did Old Croghan Man.) Kneeling, he accepted three blows to the head that left him stunned. Then a thrice-knotted garrot strangled him at the same time as his jugular was severed, the blood running into a cauldron, and finally he was tethered in the water as an offering. (I will note here that Old Croghan Man had defensive wounds so was not entirely willing but was also tethered in the water by withies.)
Lindow Man at the time of his discovery
Is their argument plausible? Indeed it is. Since that time, the idea of Kingship & Sacrifice has been studied and written about by other archaeologists including Dr. Eamonn Kelly, who created the current exhibit at the National Museum of Archaeology in Dublin.
Creating this book list was much harder than it looks. First, I had to choose books that had a similar bent to my own book, To Charm a Killer. Then I had to craft a short review to introduce each story in the light of the overarching theme. It had been so long since I’d read Interview with the Vampire, I bought the paperback and reread it. I was surprised at the depth of character, the broodiness of Louie, and the madness of Lestat.
One of my favorite reviewers writes this of To Render a Raven:
“I think the true draw of this novel for me, and this is probably true of the whole series, now that I think about it, is the intricate psychology of the characters, who are complex, nuanced, sympathetic, and occasionally, deeply irritating— a sign of just how invested I’ve become, and how well drawn their inner lives, as well as outer adventures, really are. Highly recommended read.”
To Charm a Killer started it all. As I complete the draft of Book 5, my mind drifts back to everything that’s come before, Estrada’s complex psychological journey, his desires, his loves and losses, and how he’s changed over two years of his fictional life—something that’s impacted several years of my life and continues to inspire me.
Finally, I recommend Shepherd.com as it’s a very cool, professionally vetted site. You can search for comp lists on all kinds of topics. For example, if you’re looking for adult fiction featuring witches, try this. If you’re an author, contact them to find out how to create your own list.
Susanna Kearsley conjures one of the most vibrant voices I’ve ever heard in The Winter Sea. It’s so vivid it’s as if a real writer is experiencing this psychic phenomenon, rather than a fictional one. In a twist on the usual time-slip novel, Kearsley interweaves two complimentary tales, one contemporary and one historical, threaded by ancestry. As intricately woven as a Scottish tapestry, with multiple layers of colour and contrast, this novel may propel you to a place where you lose yourself, and begin to wonder, is this possible?
Author, Carrie McClelland settles into a cottage in the village of Cruden Bay, on the northeast coast of Scotland in Aberdeenshire, after being intuitively drawn to the ruins of Slains castle. She’s come hoping to write a novel about the 1707 Jacobites, who planned to sail young King Jamie, the exiled king, from France to Scotland to foil the English plan to unite the two countries under British rule. Fans of Outlander will resonate, and find The Winter Sea just as compelling.
Carrie’s father is an amateur genealogist who’s shared the family tree with his daughter, so she creates a character based on her ancestor, Sophia Paterson. As soon as she begins to write in Sophia’s voice, the words begin to flow. It’s as if Sophia is whispering in Carrie’s ear, and she is but a channel to the truth of what transpired centuries before. I was taken by this fascinating concept as I’m an intuitive writer myself, and to see it accomplished so brilliantly impressed me greatly. Carrie discusses the theory of DNA and ancestral memory with Dr. Weir, a trusted intellectual in the village, who tells her that, “some aspects of our nature, of our temperament, are clearly carried in our genes. And memory, surely, is no more intangible than temperament” (216). He goes on to report that people who are “regressed under hypnosis and recall what they believe are former lives in other bodies, may in fact be nothing more than their remembering the lives of their own ancestors” (217).
In parallel plots, both Carrie and Sophia fall in love and must weather the obstacles enduring love brings.
As a former museum curator, Kearsley brings her knowledge of historical artifacts to the page in detailed, sensory script. She’s won multiple awards including a RITA, the Crime Writers of Canada Arthur Ellis Award, and the National Reader’s Choice Awards. This Globe and Mail, New York Times, and USA Today bestselling author educates and entertains with this riveting romantic drama that sweeps through time to leave the reader breathless.
I breezed through the whopping 509 pages because I just couldn’t put it down. Four times chills rushed up my legs in the closing chapters as Kearsley caught the unravelled threads and knotted them together with such precision I didn’t see it coming.
The Winter Sea is historical fiction layered with the intuitive writing of it. Two heroines, two heroes, and all indelibly linked through lineages, symbols, artifacts, and ancestral memory. See for yourself.
Screenwriter Blake Snyder claims there are only ten types of stories, and I believe him. Given the vast amount of books and films being launched today, that makes it nigh impossible to create an original concept. But JP McLean’s Dark Dreams Series strikes me as something unique. The series begins with the multi-award-winning Blood Mark—a sexy noir crime novel starring a bold, intelligent superhero who seeks justice for her past transgressions despite her strange affliction.
In Blood Mark, we meet three series characters who take turns telling the story: twenty-four-year-old Jane who works at a plant nursery; her best friend Sadie who’s seduced by the kind of cash prostitution offers; and Jane’s love interest, the sexy biker and bar manager, Ethan Bryce. Their stories continue in Ghost Mark as does their love triangle—neither Sadie nor Ethan trust each other—which makes for tense, unending drama.
Abandoned at birth, Jane suffers from vivid blood-red marks that snake around her body, horrific nightmares, and trauma from growing up in the foster care system. She discovers early on that not only are her dreams about real people who are being stalked by a killer, but she’s appearing in these scenes as a shadowy figure.
Her blood marks, given to her in the womb during an ancient Inca ritual, are a form of protection. According to the Inca scholar, Jane is a Witness. As a Witness, she mustn’t act in any way that can change history. But how does one slip in and out of time without changing history? It’s virtually impossible, and one instinctive act of kindness haunts her through both books.
When Jane’s blood marks begin to disappear, she’s left feeling vulnerable. By the time we get to Ghost Mark, not only have Jane’s blood marks completely vanished, she’s now entering her dreams in a visibly translucent form—looking like a ghost, if you will. And to complicate things, people can now see her, and she appears in the dream scene wearing whatever she was wearing, or not wearing, when she fell asleep. After turning up naked in one dream, she starts sleeping fully dressed in jeans, motorcycle jacket, and boots with a hidden knife, in case her narcolepsy catches her unaware. Not only that, Jane discovers a vivid white “escape valve” on the back of her hand that “doesn’t just rewind a dream. When I trace the mark clockwise, it jumps me out of the dream entirely.”
Watch the Thrilling Trailer!
Unique concept? Absolutely.
McLean’s writing is as ingenious as her protagonist, ranging from grunge to snappy repartee to sophistication to laugh-out-loud snarks. My favourite line? “Careful, Ethan. You might just trip over your bravado and land on your ass.” Delivered by Sadie, of course. The plot twists as vividly as Jane’s blood marks. Intelligent stake-raising, mysterious dreams, and a tortuous ordeal in a freezing Alberta museum will have you flipping pages far into the night.
Life is bleak and gritty in this novel, and the Vancouver landscape honestly portrayed. Both Jane and Sadie are scarred by the foster care system. Jane discovers in a dream that Ethan’s scars happened another way. The antagonists are as manipulative, cruel, and evil as you could hope for in a crime novel, and Jane as tough a hero as it takes to put them in their place.
McLean’s first supernatural series, The Gift Legacy, included seven books. I’m hoping “dark dreams” continue to haunt the author, so she continues to write sequels.
Trust me. Ghost Mark is gripping. You won’t put it down till it’s done.
In the twelfth installment of the Collins-Burke Mystery Series, Halifax author, Anne Emery, brings us an unforgettable hero in the guise of Seamus Rynne, or Shay, as he’s known to the lads.
If you’re an armchair traveler, this book will sweep you up and transport you to Ireland. If you’ve traveled Ireland, like I have, this book will remind you what you’ve forgotten and are longing to experience again. That charm that is Ireland. It’s both homely and worldly. Set, for the most part, in 1970s Dublin, Fenian Street is historical crime fiction at its finest. This is a lengthy, ambitious book (422 pages) and Emery doesn’t shy away from discussing “The Troubles” — the politics of the time, given that her main characters are Republicans, and some are I.R.A. Emery combines real historical personages with fictional characters to ground her story in fact.
These unforgettable characters, with hearts of gold and tongues that spin stories like a seanchaí (shanachie), will take you pub-crawling in Dublin where you’ll have to throw back a pint or two just to keep up with the cracking dialogue. Then, in part two, you’ll be transported to 1970s New York to brush up against the likes of Mickey Spillane and certain Irish gangsters.
So, what’s the craic?
Young Shay Rynne, who grew up in the impoverished Corporation flats on Fenian Street in Dublin, wants to become a member of An Garda Síochána (Guardians of the Peace), the national police force in Ireland. But Dubliners like himself are unwelcome. When a childhood friend, Rosie McGinn, is found “lying at the foot of the back staircase of Goss’s Hotel” with fingermarks bruising her neck, and the investigating DS deems her death accidental, Shay vows to find her killer. He gets on the force and shines, though he’s made an enemy of the investigating officer, DS McCreevy.
Then he’s called to the scene of the brutal death of local politician, Darragh McLogan, and becomes embroiled in a murder investigation that leads him all the way to Hell’s Kitchen in New York City.
Hell’s Kitchen NYC 1970s
Emery’s research is extensive and she includes an extensive bibliography. She also acknowledges several retired garda who helped her with answers to her procedural questions. She’s traveled often in Ireland, as several family members originated there, and knows it well. And she has first-hand experience of what Ireland was like during The Troubles. She took the train from Dublin to Belfast in the 1980s and “saw cars being stopped and searched at checkpoints, saw the tanks, and the British soldiers in the streets with their rifles.” When Shay and Father Burke travel to the refugee camps in northern County Meath to help out, you know it’s heartfelt. “People were streaming across the border from the North to escape the attacks: loyalists—loyal to Britain, not to Ireland—were shooting Catholics and setting fire to their homes” (28). This, sadly, was the climate of the times.
I asked Anne Emery what it was like to write an entire book in dialogue. She said: “Writing dialogue is my favourite part of the process. I could spend hours with a group of people and not remember a thing about what they wore. But I can recount conversations, often word-for-word, and I can remember the cadences and tones of voice.” This gift is apparent in Fenian Street.
Just for fun, I wrote a list of all the Irish terms I found intriguing, many of which pertain to drinking alcohol. They have “lashings of drink”, get “langered” and “gilled.” Shay’s “oul fella” (father) Talkie Rynne is often “on the batter.” Rosie’s killed at a “hooley” (party) thrown by politicians, and if that doesn’t give you “a case of the janglers” nothing will. Shay is “heart-scawded” (overwrought) with the news of his friend’s death and so becomes a “peeler” (policeman.) Later, he’s “cock-a-hoop” to hear from his old girlfriend. You’ll think you’re in a Dublin snug as you slip into this heartfelt story.
Emery assures me that she’ll keep writing the series indefinitely so there’s plenty more shenanigans to come. If you’ve never tried the Collins-Burke Mysteries, don’t think you must start at the beginning. You can start right here. Fenian Street stands alone. Though Father Brennan Burke makes his usual charming appearances, this is Shay’s book.
It might seem unusual to be publishing a memoir in your mid-forties but when you’re an old soul with miles of experiential wisdom to impart, it works beautifully.
This is a genuinely inspirational story of perseverance and resilience. Chris MacDonald is a Toronto tattoo artist who’s come a long way from his rural beginnings in Alliston, Ontario, where he ran wild with his brothers. Along the way, his parents divorced and his mother disappeared from his life. He lived the life of an at-risk kid—cutting school, imbibing, starving, skateboarding, playing punk rock—learning his trade, and building relationships along the way.
“I miss my mom all the time. Maybe if I had closure, things would be different. Unfortunately, I don’t. I only have the things I came here with” (257).
Those things are a creative soul, a solid work ethic, and a talent for music and art. Chris’s writing is lyrical and impressive, flowing from his fingers like the tattoos he respectfully etches on his client’s skin.
“Tattooing is a hulking chimerical beast, startling and beautiful when spotted. It’s a shape-shifter: a cosmic, chrome scorpion; a crude, grey-scale beauty; a Zulueta tribal badge” (240).
This page-turner is divided into three parts: early life in the small town of Alliston, surviving Toronto on his own, and finally, becoming a tattoo artist and getting his own shop. Part One flows like poetry as his memories paint the page. Part Two is tougher as he crawls through the underbelly of the city. And Part Three reads like prose. By then, MacDonald is head-down into the business of becoming an entrepreneur so he can support his new family. His poetic soul never leaves, though; it’s just transferred to his art and music.
Through a series of descriptive vignettes, we wend our way through MacDonald’s life. He’s sensitive, caring, wounded, emotional, and most of all, honest. You’ll find yourself rooting for him and identifying with him. An eighties’ kid, his first crush was a “safari-guide figurine” and then he saw Olivia Newton-John.
If you know Toronto at all, you’ll paint yourself into the many places where MacDonald skates and crashes. Poor and starving, he does what he must to survive.
I can only applaud Chris for his perseverance, and for using the talents he came here with.
You can find Chris at Under My Thumb on the “western edge of Little Portugal” in Toronto. You can even book some time with him, enjoy the therapy being tattooed offers, and emerge wearing one of his creations. Go to Instagram and view his work. But first, read this, his first book.
PD TORONTO, ON – MARCH 11 – – Chris MacDonald, owner/operator of Under My Thumb Tattoos poses for pictures in his shop.__The drawing on the left is his. Vince Talotta/Toronto Star
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