Screams, Family, and a Few Candles for Good Measure
Ah, the Banshee. What a charmer. A spirit so embedded in Irish culture that we’ve not only accepted her terrifying screech as normal, right next to pots of tea and the art of taking the mickey, we’ve actually woven her into our family folklore. Now, you might be wondering—why call this blog The Banshee's Table? Well, my friend, let me enlighten you with some tales of the who, the what, and the why of Ireland’s most notorious 'keening' woman.
The Banshee: Ireland’s Original Gossip Messenger
The Banshee is no ordinary ghost story, mind you. She’s not the kind that waits for you to fall into a deep dreamlike slumber or tiptoes around your kitchen moving the tea spoons. Oh no, the Banshee’s method is much more straightforward—she screams. The Banshee doesn’t do subtle. Not just any scream—thee scream. The kind that makes you feel like your soul just left your body, whether you’re ready or not. Of course, she’s not just yelling for the fun of it; she’s delivering a message. It’s a warning that death is coming for someone in your family.
Now, before you panic, it’s not as sinister as it sounds. Think of her as the ancient Irish equivalent of a late-night text, “You up? Death’s on the way, get ready.”
Now, thanks to the recent Hollywood fanfare around The Banshees of Inisherin, you might have thought it was a quaint Irish tale of lost friendship with Colin Farrell just there to remind us all why we’d gladly let a banshee scream if it meant catching a glimpse of him. But, the movie? I’m still not sure what I think of it. Bit of a moody mess, really. Let’s be honest, most Irish lads wouldn’t lose sleep over a friend being a bit sulky. A good slap and a pint would’ve sorted the whole thing out quicker than you can say ‘feck off.’
Mum’s childhood Encounter with the Banshee at the ‘Old House’
Now, let me take you back to my own family’s brushes with the Banshee. My mum swears she heard the Banshee wailing outside 'the old house' in Scraghey, Castlederg. Picture it: the rolling countryside, the wind howling, the bogland shifting underfoot. It could’ve been the wind—except the wail was like nothing else. Bone-chilling. Of course, we weren’t going to let her off easy. My siblings and I insisted it was just the wind playing tricks on her, but there’s something about the way she told it that makes you wonder. Maybe she really did hear the Banshee that night. Or maybe she’d just had a rough day with us lot and needed to lower our drama with some misdirection. Possibly hoping to shut the lot of us up!
Is the Banshee Good, Evil, or Just Plain Fed Up?
The truth about the Banshee is, no one really knows whether she’s good or evil. She’s not there to scare the living daylights out of you (although she’s very good at it). She’s simply giving you a heads-up that someone in the family is about to join the great céilí in the sky. There’s almost a tenderness to it—well, as tender as you can be while screaming, I guess.
In fact, the Banshee is said to mourn for her families, not frighten them, and in her own spooky way, she represents the deep connection Irish people have with family, even after death.
The Candle Tradition: Light in the Dark
For all the jokes we make about the Banshee, there’s something else at play here—our respect for the grieving process. Irish families are a funny bunch; we’ll mock death, tell spooky stories, but when it comes down to it, we’ve always honored our loved ones, especially those who’ve passed. The Banshee’s wail might be a warning, but it’s also a reminder that death is part of life, and in Ireland, we mark it with reverence.
Candles have always played a role in that. Whether it’s lighting one in a church or on your work desk at home, we use that small flicker of light to remember those we’ve lost. I still do it myself—on my dad’s birthday, my mum and dad’s anniversary, or just on those days when I’m thinking of them or friends I have lost. It’s a quiet ritual, a moment to sit with my memories and feel a little closer to home, even if I’m miles away. It’s something we all do in one way or another—whether it’s a candle, a prayer, or a memory shared around a table.
The Banshee’s Table: Where We Gather, Scream-Free (Mostly)
And this is where the idea of The Banshee’s Table comes in. You see, for all the wailing and spooky tales, what we Irish are really good at is gathering. Around the kitchen table, with a pot of tea, a dram of whiskey, or maybe something stronger if you’ve just heard the Banshee yourself. It’s where stories—spooky or not—get told, family ties are strengthened, and even in the face of loss, we find ways to laugh.
Growing up, my family wasn’t immune to this. In fact, we reveled in it. We loved scaring each other with scary stories, making the wind into something far more sinister, and seeing who could get the biggest reaction. But after the screams and scares, we’d always gather back around that table, comforted by the noise of a kettle boiling or poking fun at each other. That’s where the real magic happens—the connection, the togetherness, and the storytelling.
So, why The Banshee's Table for this blog?
It started when I lived in Colorado and some girlfriends got hurt by a boyo and we commiserated together. I told them I could place a Banshee's curse on them if they wanted me to. Interestingly, I don't think I've ever been told NO on that question by a gal or lady.
Shocking I know, but really...The Banshee became my personnae a little since then. A way to protect, my American gal family far from home.
The Banshee in Modern Times (And She’s Not Happy About It)
These days, the Banshee isn’t as active as she used to be. Probably taking a break after centuries of screaming into the wind, if you ask me. Or maybe she’s just fed up that no one’s listening to her anymore—what with the internet and all. But don’t think for a second that she’s gone. If you’re walking across the boglands at night and the wind starts to howl, don’t assume it’s just the weather. Could be her, could be you’ve forgotten your coat. Either way, the scream is still out there.
So, when I started this blog, naming it after the Banshee felt right. She’s a part of my heritage, like so many of the stories that bring us together. And while her wail might signal an ending, at The Banshee’s Table, we’re all about new beginnings—whether it’s through sharing a story, a recipe, or a bit of Irish sarcasm. It’s a space to come together, light a candle for those we’ve lost, and enjoy the company of those still around to share the craic.
So, pull up a chair, pour yourself a cuppa or a whisky (or both - Irish Coffee anyone?), and let’s tell some good stories—spooky or not.
Pull up a chair at The Banshee’s Table! Share your wild family tales, thoughts on Irish myths, and maybe light a candle in memory of someone special—because every good story needs a little glow! Leave your comments and enjoy the gathering!
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