Must Be Dragons

Didn't St. Patrick banish all the snakes from Ireland?

So this Celtic design, borrowed from the Book of Kells, I believe, must be dragons. Or, are they really snakes?

Earth wisdom, earth power--either way. Good luck to the wearer.

In his Winter Count, which is where I found the following passage, Barry Lopez quotes Jorge Luis Borges on dragons from The Book of Imaginary Beings, a passage that's always stuck with me. Listen:

"We are as ignorant of the meaning of the dragon as we are of the meaning of the universe, but there is something in the dragon's image that appeals to the human imagination, and so we find the dragon in quite distinct places and times."

This dragon-buckle is the work of Peter O'Loughlin, the silversmith who crafted the three-dogs-running pendant I featured earlier this month, and you may find him in a booth on Telegraph Avenue near UC Berkeley. In fact, he's usually selling his fine pieces in that first block next to Bancroft Avenue.

Three Dogs Running

This is a favorite image, originally from the Book of Kells, as best I know.

This piece is from the hand of Peter O'Loughlin, silversmith, that I picked up years ago from his booth on Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley, CA.

I've read that the three-dogs-running symbolizes courage. I understand that; in the image, I see liveliness, perseverance, and no flinching. I wonder at letting-loose-the-dogs. I look at the pendant--at the photos now--and I smile, with the hint of a dog-tooth showing.

After I took the photos, I started reading around, pulling various books from the shelves, seeking just the right passage or passages to accompany the hounds.: W. B. Yeats' "On Baile's Strand," William Shakespeare's Macbeth, Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf, Marie Heaney's Over Nine Waves: A Book of Irish Legends, among others. (There's a John Montague poem that would fit best, but my volume of his collected poetry is on my desk at work just now.)

Cuchulain, of course, is a man-hound worth recalling, but here's a passage from Marie Heaney's "St. Patrick" that feels oddly fitting: no dogs, but also no flinching.

While Patrick was preaching in Munster, Aengus, the king of Cashel, became curious about the visitor and summoned him to his fort. Patrick preached the gospel and the king, believing in it, asked to be baptized. As Patrick blessed Aengus, the spike of his crozier went through the king's foot, but Aengus did not flinch. When the ceremony was over and Patrick saw the wound he had inflicted he was stricken with remorse.

"I didn't cry out or protest," Aengus explained, "for I thought the piercing was part of the ritual that I had to endure."

Heaney, Marie. Over Nine Waves: A Book of Irish Legends. Faber & Faber. London & Boston: 1995.