The Anthology of Irish Folk Tales by The History Press

Author:The History Press
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The History Press
Published: 2020-03-19T05:00:00+00:00

GIANT LOVE

It happened that one day another giant came calling on An Fear Mór. The historical record is a little hazy on who this other giant was, but the speculation is that the visitor was An Bhean Mhór – the Big Woman – and that the visit was of a romantic nature. Certainly, love or lust would explain what happened next.

Giants are by nature solitary creatures, rarely inclined towards friendship. Yet there comes a time when reproductive needs overcome any eremitic inclination. Deep in a giant’s head neurotransmitters suddenly flash like lightning in a summer storm, lust and love goes whistling through the great pipes and valves of its heart, the creature’s mouth dries up, and its oxters and groin sweat out the foulest of secretions. Many miles, mountains, valleys and lakes away, another of the creatures catches the scent and, regardless of what they are doing or thinking (if indeed giants can be said to think at all), they will immediately turn windward and begin the long, slow lumbering journey towards procreation.

Rocks play a large part in the mating ritual of giants: lifting them, biting them, crushing them and of course throwing them. So it was that An Fear Mór and his lady visitor played around in the local mountains, breaking bits off here, sticking a few extra bits on there. At the climax of all this horse play, they decided to have a throwing competition. As a display of prowess each would attempt to hurl an enormous boulder over the expanse of Galway Bay and land it on to Black Head at the very tip of County Clare.

So it was that each of the two giants gouged out a hill, raced down to the water’s edge and, with a roar, hurled their missiles upwards and outwards. Up and up the projectiles flew, defying gravity and smacking into the clouds. Birds screeched in terror, the very air boomed in protestation, and still the great boulders flew up. Once, twice and thrice the great stones circumnavigated the earth, skimming against the very edge of space, trailing flames and gassy tendrils.

Then, with a scream, down the great boulders came, landing in the Atlantic with such heat and force the waters opened like a monstrous flower with its white petals of roiling steam momentarily floating on the air. Next, with a boom that cracked mountains to the core, the scolding sea washed against the shores of Galway Bay, boiling the skin off all creatures feathered, finned or skin-covered.

The two giants, being constructed of much tougher material, were not in the slightest damaged by the boiling tsunami that crashed over them, and were no more put out than children who have been splashed a bit after hurling a couple of stones into a pond. Unlike children though, who always take delight in their mess and mayhem, the giants were not pleased by the havoc they had caused. Their intention had not been to split the seas, but to smack Black Head. When the

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