A Southern Missive

The Brendan Voyage: A Review by Rickey E. Pittman

I’ve had few books pique my interests and hold my attention as much as The Brendan Voyage by Tim Severin. First published in May of 1978, it’s one of those books that after reading you ask, “Why didn’t I find out about this book years ago?” This book is the story of “how a crew of five, later reduced to four, sailed a medieval boat, [curragh] made of leather, across the [North] Atlantic . . . .”  The author and crew were determined to prove that the legendary voyage of St. Brendan as related in the medieval text of the Navigatio was “not a legend at all, but a fairly factual record of a voyage to North American hundreds of years before the Vikings and nearly a thousand before Columbus.

If you are as intrigued by Celtic history as I am, you will find this an exciting read, and you will delightfully learn more than you intended or expected.  Severin’s prose is rich in historical and modern allusions and details, providing insight after insight into the minds of the medieval monks and what it means and meant to sail on the ocean in an ancient boat.

The author so details the making and sailing of the Brendan, that I felt I was there with him on the cold northern seas every step of the way. I learned facts about the North Atlantic, its fantastic beauties and its savage dangers that I never would have imagined. The accounts and details related of the whales, the ice, the strange lands, the birds of his historical reenactment of Brendan’s voyage that I learned are too numerous to mention.  About the title of this review–it’s not quite accurate. Actually, it seems that other Irishmen had found the Americas even before Brendan.  But that’s another story

I was so impressed by this book that I’ve decided to incorporate St. Brendan and his voyage into my Scots-Irish program that I do for schools.  Here are a few quotations I found interesting in The Brendan Voyage (Hutchinson Publishers):

“The seventh wave is said to be the worst, the one that does the damage in the turmoil of an ocean gale” (1).

The Navigatio is said by many to be an Immram, an Irish voyage story. “It is the main surviving record of a Christian seagoing culture which sent boat after boat into the North Atlantic or regular voyages of communication and exploration . . . What sort of men, then, were these monks who deliberately launched out into the Atlantic in small open boats? Many must never have returned, but perished at sea” (259).

Here is a photo of the Brendan, the curragh that Severin sailed to America.

The Brendan: A Curragh that sailed from Ireland to America

This past Friday, I presented my Scots-Irish program to the first and second graders at Forest Ridge Elementary. The kids and staff were wonderful. I’ll try to post some more photos of the day soon. This was my first visit to College Station, but I’m sure it won’t be my last. As I’ve said before, I love going to Texas. Here in the photo with me is Christy Rhodes, the librarian who scheduled the program.  I now have another “favorite librarian”  to add to that growing list.

Christy Rhodes, Forest Ridge Elementary, College Station, TX

On the way back to Louisiana, I had Sam’s Club signings scheduled in Longview, Tyler, and in Shreveport.  Longview came through, but the other two will have to be rescheduled due to my books not arriving.

Two Leprechaun’s Go into a Bar–A Very Short Story . . .

Two leprechauns, Seamus and Angus, go into the Rainbow Lounge, an American bar in Fort Worth, intending to have some fun with the locals. They put on cowboy hats and boots, and enter singing, “Somewhere, over the rainbow,” for that is a leprechaun’s favorite American song. They climb up the barstools having sung their little hearts out. The jukebox is now playing Randy Newman’s song, “Short People.” One pounds on the counter with his shillelagh. “We’ll have a pint and a half,” he said. “For each of us.” The bartender evidently knew something about Irish pubs because he brought each of them a pint of Guinness and a glass of whiskey on the side. “Here you are. Pints for you half-pints.”

Still determined to mess with the bartender’s mind, the other leprechaun said, “I’m in desperate need of a job. Would you hire me?”

“What kind of job do you want? A short-order cook?” the bartender said. “Or you might make a good secretary, writing in short hand in all.”

“Can you turn on that TV above your head there. Maybe there’s a futbol game on.” Angus elbows the other leprechaun, “He probably doesn’t know the difference between American football and soccer.”

The bartender hits the remote and a soccer game came on. The Irish were playing the Swiss.

“I used to be quite the soccer player,” Seamus said.
The bartender smiled. “I would have thought your sport would have been baseball–you know, playing short-stop or something.”
Angus had taken all he could from the smart-ass bartender. “Would you stop the short jokes? I’m getting worked up.”
The bartender wiped the counter, then flipped the towel across Angus’ face. “I always heard leprechauns were short-tempered. Pay for your drinks and get out. You owe me twenty dollars. In gold of course.”
“Well,” Angus said. “You know how this is going to end up. Our gold is buried in Ireland. We’re a little short on funds, so we’re going to have to short-change you.”

*For those of you who haven’t ever heard the song “Short People” by Randy Newman, here are the lyrics:
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
To live

They got little hands
Little eyes
They walk around
Tellin’ great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little feet

Well, I don’t want no short people
Don’t want no short people
Don’t want no short people
`Round here

Short people are just the same
As you and I
(A fool such as I)
All men are brothers
Until the day they die
(It’s a wonderful world)

Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
To love

They got little baby legs
That stand so low
You got to pick em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That go beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin’ peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
They’re gonna get you every time
Well, I don’t want no short people
Don’t want no short people
Don’t want no short people
‘Round here