‘Fado Fado Fado’ or as it’s said in English, ‘Long Long Ago…’

reviews of

Padraic Colum, illustrations by Willy Pogany
The King of Ireland’s Son
Dover Publications, 1997 (originally Macmillan, 1916)
Paperback, 320 pages
ISBN: 9780486297224

and

Padraic Colum
Story Telling New & Old
Macmillan, 1968 (originally published in Colum’s
The Fountain of Youth, Macmillan, 1927)
Hardback, 32 pages
ISBN: 9781476708942

In 1914, when a short visit turned into an unexpected longer-stay in America, with circumstances changing how he and his wife both made their livings, Padraic Colum indulged himself by translating from Irish into English traditional folk and fairy tales he’d heard as child. He did so to maintain his fluency in Irish. It led to a highly regarded reputation in the USA as an oral storyteller and writer for children (whereas at home and in the rest of Europe he was already established in the Irish Literary Revival as a dramatist and poet).

To earn a needed income, Colum published his fairy tales in the New York Tribune. These caught the attention of Hungarian illustrator Willy Pogany, who proposed they collaborate by putting the stories into a book. As an experiment, Colum wove the narratives into a novel, The King of Ireland’s Son. Well received by children and children’s librarians, the publishing house Macmillan offered Colum a lucrative contract; over subsequent decades, he produced for child readers several anthologies of folktales, legends, and myths from all over the world.

Colum’s first children’s book took the form of an epic. The King of Ireland’s son wanders out with his hound, his hawk, and his horse, and meets a stranger who invites him to gamble. Lulled by easy wins, the king’s son eventually loses the wager, and the stranger, an enchanter and enemy of his father, assigns the king’s son a hazardous task. On the journey to complete it, he becomes romantically entangled with the enchanter’s daughter, and they work as equals to defeat the villain. Magic chases and battles, eccentric characters, and wild escapades from Irish folklore are encountered on this quest, with disparate elements coming together to bring this adventure to satisfying conclusion.

Crafted from traditional folk tales, which normally provide minimal detail to describe characters, settings, objects, and actions, Colum’s writing style is reminiscent of early experiments in Modernism. This minimalism is reinforced by the English translation, which recreates or mimics Irish syntax while using oral storytelling techniques—rhythmic or formulaic language, poetic devices, and figurative speech, such as runs (repeated descriptive passages which incorporate alliteration and/or onomatopoeia). Colum’s mode of writing is supported by Pogany’s illustrations, which have been described as beautiful and bizarre in their use of brilliant colour and a startling Modernist style.

Colum’s children’s books remained popular in America well into the last century. I remember The King of Ireland’s Son as a favourite read. Coming back to it as an adult, I’m not so sure it remains accessible to young readers today. My memory, probably false, suggests I read it when I was eight or nine; more likely I was twelve or thirteen. Young adults keen on fantasy fiction would still enjoy it, I think. Recently, public librarians in Ireland read several children’s books by Irish writers and illustrators as part of a staff development project. Those who read The King of Ireland’s Son loved the book, saying it reminded them of Game of Thrones and contemporary young adult fantasy series based on Irish mythology.

Storytelling, New & Old was first included in Colum’s 1927 publication Fountain of Youth: Stories to be Told. The essay was republished several times, into the late 1960s. Colum describes the traditional storytelling of his youth, which he encountered in rural Longford and Cavan in the late 19th century. He then compares it with oral storytelling practiced by children’s librarians in public libraries.

Fountain of Youth consisted of stories meant to be told orally from memory, in a conversational style, without props or costumes. Such storytelling was expected of children’s librarians in North America from the 1890s through the 1930s and until recently was still common in some public library services. This library storytelling was aimed at children aged six to twelve who were told traditional folk and fairy tales, myths, and legends from around the world. This wasn’t the library story time material typically seen today for audiences aged five and under, which usually consists of rhymes and shared reading of picture books.

Colum defends this ‘modern storytelling’, demonstrating its similarities to Irish storytelling he heard as child. His eye-witness descriptions provide a window on this kind of storytelling and its place in Irish society for folklorists, anthropologists, and contemporary professional storytellers. Colum’s advocacy for the role of storytelling, poetry, and literature in child development, and his explanation of how listening to stories and poems develops imagination and what we would today recognise as critical literacy, means this essay remains relevant.

Pat Ryan