Magic Torch turned 15 last year, but this month, this week in fact, it's been 15 years since we published our first book, Tales of the Oak - which has pretty much been the foundation of everything we've worked on ever since.
Tales of the Oak collected a whole range of local folktales and half remembered legends, which had more or less fallen out of the telling, and presented them back to everyone to bring them back to life. We did actually have a plan when we did this, and it was to create a sort of "mythical" history and backdrop to what is often viewed as a fairly miserable and depressed community. Taking genuine local stories, national legends and a wee bit of creative license, we tried to make our hometown seem a little more magical. The stories could all be read and told independently, but read cover to cover, there is also an ongoing story.
The first 1000 copies of the book sold out within four weeks - quite literally outselling Anthea Turner's autobiography five copies to one in the Greenock WH Smith. Crazy times. Hilariously though, in our rush to get them into local bookshops, the glue bind hadn't properly set, and the first 50 copies fell to pieces. Bookpoint were very understanding about that. If you still have one of those faulty copies, it's really extra rare. Largely unreadable, but rare. Sort of like the dead sea scrolls.
We've reprinted the book a few times, thousands of copies have now been sold. And yknow, it's still available if for some bizarre reason you don't already have one...both in our online shop, via the Dutch Gable House and also for kindle. It is of course, ideal Halloween reading.
Here's the original founding members of Magic Torch below, promoting Tales of the Oak in the Tele in October 2000. We look like a terrible indie band. Or a sort of low rent Travis. Which is actually exactly what we were going for...
"Here are the young men the weight on their shoulders
Here are the young men, well where have they been..."
With props to our artist Mhairi and our mysterious designer Black Cassidy, here's the rather sumptuous cover for our new 64 page book 13 Commonwealth Tales, supported by the Celebrate Fund.
Packed full of monsters, fair folk, superstitions and even a limerick, there's something for everyone in this journey around Commonwealth folklore, undertaken by our own questionable folk hero, Captain Kidd.
The book will be launched on Thursday September 11. If you would like to come along to the book launch on Thursday evening to hear some of the stories and enjoy a few refreshments, we have some tickets spare, simply email us with the answer to the following question...
What is the name of the spider god and King of Stories we have recently featured on our blog?
Answers to aulddunrod@gmail,com
However, don't worry, for if you miss out on Thursday, further FREE copies will be available exclusively from the Dutch Gable House during Doors Open Days on September 13th / 14th. Our two previous FREE books have been snapped up quickly and our now only available as downloads. So don't miss out!
actual photograph of Captain Kidd's famous logbook. kind of.
If you are looking for something different for folk this Christmas, and want to support local artists and enterprise while yer doing it, here's a few suggestions...
First up, why not treat someone to a print from local artist Mhairi Robertson. Mhairi takes her inspiration from local folklore and so her striking and original artwork all has a story to tell. She is very busy just now illustrating for our childrens book next year. Visit Mhairi's gallery here and get choosing...
For a whole range of wooden gifts and goods, many with a local heritage connection, pop along to Inverclyde Community Development Trust's shop at The Dutch Gable House. You'll find traditional woodcuts of local myths and legends, historic ships and handmade Christmas decorations, rustic cheeseboards and nativity scenes all made with reclaimed and recycled wood. If you're very lucky, you might also still be able to grab a FREE copy of the Trust's Identity Graphic Novel / Greenock Morton book.
The Dutch Gable House is also one of the places you can get your hands on Scotchpotch, a miscellany created and collected by our good friends at Greenock Writers Club. All profits to charity as well!
Magic Torch will also have an EXCLUSIVE stocking filler in the shop this year, from our all new Magic Torch Comics imprint, a fully licensed replica of Thriller Picture Library - Captain Kidd Buccaneer, a tale of swashbuckling skullduggery on the high seas featuring Greenock's very own questionable pirate William Kidd. Only available at The Dutch Gable House from mid-December, and for less than half the price of a pie supper*.
"Clann Abhainn Cluaidh" was our first project, put together in 1999, a modern illuminated manuscript printing some brief pieces of lesser known Inverclyde history, alongside the first of the stories we had been researching and collecting; the wooden cover was carved by Eddie O'Donnell at Neil Street Community Workshops, the illuminated borders were designed by pupils at two local Primary schools, the leather binding came from the tannery up by Bridge of Weir, and it was typed and printed by a local printing project working with adults with learning disabilities; none of it was planned out like that to "tick boxes", it's just how it naturally progressed. The book was then displayed at our local library for a month, before transferring for awhile to Cornalees Visitors Centre. It's been wrapped up safely in our archive since. It's a bit frayed around the edges, some of the binding is starting to give, but it still looks great. I'm hoping we can find it a new permanent home very soon. In the meantime, we'll run some of the wee snippets and poems that were included in this book, but never reprinted elsewhere.
Looking through the manuscript, and remembering the process got me to thinking, so please forgive me a wee indulgent moment here; heritage is a wonderful thing, but it is too often confused with history, it still amuses me to think of the stick we got from so many people locally for being in our early twenties and talking about stories and legends which had no basis in fact - as if only history mattered, as if we were too young to properly understand "The History of The Town". My all time favourite remains the time we were compared to holocaust deniers for defending the possibility that Captain Kidd may have come from Greenock- a comparison as abhorrent to us as it was ridiculous.
I love history, but it can be an academic pursuit, a game of interpretation or (as we frequently found) one-upmanship about who knows most about something; heritage...that belongs to everyone...and there's plenty folk still who don't like that. It's been years since we started collecting and reprinting / retelling stories, in that time, a lot has changed, but those same stories have been retold locally and at international storytelling festivals, recorded by schoolchildren for the BBC, animated online, Inverclyde now even has a Myths and Legends Festival each year...all good things and we are glad to have played a part in that. So, if you have a story to tell, we're still listening...
"The legends represent the imagination of the country, they are the kind of history which a nation desires to possess. They betray the ambitions and ideals of the people, and in this respect, have a value far beyond the tale of actual events and duly recorded deeds which are no more history, than a skeleton is a man."
Standish o'Grady 1832-1915
the manuscript frontispiece to our first folk tale
From Clann Abhainn Cluaidh - The Great Fire of Dock Lane
30 October 1863
About two in the morning, fire was discovered to have broken out in a second floor apartment, near the south west corner and above Mr Douglas's, Mr McAllister's and Mr Griffith's shops. The alarm spread rapidly, and Mr Calderwood with the fire brigade was soon on the spot with apparatus, but in spite of all their efforts, the fire continued to spread on both side with alarming rapidity. Immediately, at the centre of the block of buildings were stone gables, and it was hoped these would arrest the progress of the fire; and the firemen set to work from these extremities in order to secure that result. In two hours after the fire was discovered, the whole half of the square was enveloped in flames, rising to a great height, illuminating the town to a great distance, and alarming the inhabitants, who turned out of bed in great numbers to witness the imposing spectacle. From some of the shops and offices a little property was rescue, including the safes with their valuable contents in books and documents. By five o'clock the fire had nearly exhausted itself; it gradually got lower, and when day broke the half of the square was a mass of smouldering ruins, the twisted walls only remaining with a heap of smoking debris inside.
When the Tall Ships first arrived in 1999, we were just beginning our local research into folklore and heritage, and we were lucky enough to get the opportunity to get involved in a number of the local art projects organised for the Tall Ships Celebrations. The first involved us creating an illuminated medieval manuscript, with celtic knotwork borders designed by local schoolchildren, stories we collected from the community, and a hand carved wooden cover. It's still one of the most enjoyable things we've ever done.
The other was to write and illustrate a short story in a single afternoon, which was then published in a book produced to commemorate Tall Ships 1999, Tall Ships, Short Stories.
We chose to create a traditional fable or parable involving one of the Saints associated with Greenock, and a mythical encounter he had with our local sea serpent. The story was eventually reworked and expanded for our book of folktales and fables "Tales of the Oak" (available this weekend at Tall Ships!)
The Scottish calendar is littered with famous festivals such as Hogmanay and Halloween, which are rooted in tradition and folklore. Yet while all Scots are happy to first foot or raise a toast to the bard, there are also some peculiarly parochial dates in our diary, dates which warrant further examination. Almost every town in Scotland has its own fair, traditional holiday periods celebrated in summer. The oldest of these ancient market days is of course, the Glasgow Fair, originally established by a charter from William the Lion in 1190, but latterly the last two weeks in July when factories and offices closed for summer holidaysand everyonewent "Doon the Watter" to Largs Rothesay and Gourock.
Greenock for her part celebrates the fair on St Helens Day, at the end of June, close to the summer solstice and has done for over three hundred and fifty years. In 1635John Schaw Laird of Greenockreceived a charter from King Charles the Firstwhich conferred upon Greenock the rights and privileges of a Burgh of Barony whichamoung other things gave the people living therethe right to hold two annual fairsand to trade in home made commodities.
The day was looked forward to for months, not merely for the holiday, but for the celebrations that came with it, and often as summer approached, the townsfolk would be heard to say, “hoo much hae yae saved up for the fair?”.
The fair itself was held either at Westburn Street, or St Andrew's Square, and it was truly a sight to behold. A whole host of caravans, all decked out with flags and bells. The blast of trumpets, the cracking of riffles – an invitation to joins the celebrations. Waxwork models, photographers, magicians, merry go-rounds, plays and musicians; all just some of the attractions one might see in bygone days.
Yet as time marched on, the fair diminished in size, until one day, the caravans came no more. Today the fair is still celebrated, although in a very different way. No longer does the town come together to toast its own, but rather we travel far and wide on Fair Saturday. Actually, mostly just to Blackpool and Largs…but all the same have a right good Fair Saturday!
It's like the folklore equivalent of a some undiscovered Beatles recordings being put up online for free...and not like really rubbish late period in-fighting nonsense...more like stuff that was accidently left off Rubber Soul and Revolver. I've overstretched this metaphor...
BBC today reports on the online publication of the notebooks of Scottish folklore pioneer, Alexander Carmichael, 50 years of stories, songs, culture and curses from across the Scottish Highlands. Carmichael was born on Lismore, and attended schools on the island and also apparently in Greenock. Certainly he worked here as an exciseman before transferring to Dublin and eventually Islay, where he began collecting folklore. History Scotland ran a great piece on him earlier this year.
Senior project researcher Dr Donald William Stewart said: "Alexander Carmichael tirelessly, even obsessively, recorded the culture, lore and beliefs of his native Scottish highlands. By the end of his life in 1912, he was both Celtic guru and folklore jukebox, the internationally-recognised authority on Scottish Gaelic songs, stories, traditions and beliefs. Carmichael's voluminous papers, now preserved in Edinburgh University library, form one of the foremost folklore collections in the world." (BBC)
There was a merchant from Dumbarton. It happened that the merchant and his crew left the rock, and had been at sea for a long long time when they sailed straight into a storm. The boat was wrecked, and the crew all drowned, except for the good merchant, who found himself washed ashore on an island. He wandered around for a time, looking for food and somewhere he could shelter, and he came across a little hollow by the shore. Being altogether shaken and tired from his ordeal, he lay down on the rock and fell instantly asleep. When he woke, there was a mermaid beside him, and thereafter she came to the cave everyday to sing to the merchant, and to bring him provisions. Not only food, but gold, silver and jewels."
A year passed and then one day, when the mermaid was away, a ship passed by the island. The Merchant hailed the ship, and the vessel spied him, and sent a boat ashore. And the merchant told them all about his shipwreck and the mermaid and his gold and silver and jewels. The crew of the boat explained that they were outward bound, but suggested that if the Merchant gathered together a sizeable booty, then they would come again in a year and a day to take him home. So a year and a day passed, and everyday the lovesick mermaid brought more food and wine and treasure to the Merchant. And at the appointed time, the ship again dropped anchor by the island. Again the mermaid was away, and again a boat came ashore. The merchant and the crew made quick despatch to get all the stores on board before the mermaid returned.
The ship set sail, but the mermaid returned to her cave, found it herried, and angrily she swam after the ship, overtook it, and demanded that her husband and her stores be returned. Now the skipper, was a canny man, so he cast off a bundle of hoops and he agreed to hand over her man and her stores only if the mermaid could count the hoops. This she did and she then repeated her demands. But the skipper cast off another set of hoops again and again and again until they reached Gourock. The Captain had a lot of hoops.
The Dumbarton merchant, set foot again on dry land at Gourock, and refused to go with the mermaid. And she pleaded with him to return to their cave where they had spent so many happy days. But he refused again, so the Mermaid gave to him the baby she had borne him, demanding that he give it a good home with all the gold and silver he had stolen from her. She then gave the merchant a book which he was instructed not to let the child see til he was full grown. The child grew and took up residence in the old castle of Ardrossan, taking the name Michael Scott, later more commonly known as The Devil of Ardrossan. It was by the means of his mother's book that he commanded the foul thief, that imp who carried out his every dark request. And the very first command given to this devil was to rid Michael of his own father, the merchant. You could hear his screaming all the way to Ireland. The mermaid meantime, befriended the great serpent Clutha of the Clyde, and she lives in the waters to this day. She pops her head out of the water now and then for to sing a wee song. She might even tell your fortune, depending on your luck.
Over a hundred years ago, the funeral procession of a young girl, taken long before her time, passed along the riverside on its way past the Newark castle on route to the old church. The Mermaid appeared out of the water and sang
"If she drank nettles in March And mugwort in May Sae many braw maidens Wadna gang to the clay."
Have a read about more mermaids around the UK in Caught By The River's scans of the classic rural folk zine The Country Bizarre. The Port Glasgow Mermaid also makes an appearance in our book Wee Nasties, which you can read for free online on scribd or ibooks.
A ragged vagrant terrifying the town's children while looking after dozens of stray cats...or a fictional bogeyman from our industrial past? Who is, what is, where is...The Catman?
Greenock's shipbuilding was already in decline in the seventies and fast heading towards complete collapse within the eighties. Sightings and mentions of The Catman stretch back to the nineteen seventies, all centred around a specific narrow lane which connects what was the industrial “East End” of the town, with the town centre - one of those interesting crossing points at a self imposed division line - very often the focus for folklore and fairy stories.
Throughout the boom years of shipbuilding, many local shipyards informally employed a “Catman”, someone who fed and kept cats around the yards in order to keep rats at bay. It is interesting to note that the first mention of the vagrant Catman in Greenock coincides with the decline of the shipbuilding industry.
From the seventies onward, he fulfilled both a basic “bogeyman” role and source of scary stories for local children. For example, there was an abandoned railway tunnel near his apparent den; dubbed “the double darkie”, children would dare one another to see how far in they could get into the tunnel, all the while assured that if they went too far, Catman would jump out of the darkness to grab them.
He was rarely seen throughout the eighties and nineties, but certainly still talked about - and there were more than enough sensible grown ups prepared to confirm that they had spoken to him, or passed him food or flasks of tea. Also, his den was in plain view and frequently showed signs of someone living there.
It was a few years ago that the most major Catman development took place, mobile phone footage of the man himself, crawling around under cars in a bus garage located next to his den, then apparently eating a dead rat. This footage beamed around every young person in Greenock’s mobile phone, before ending up on You Tube and eventually in the pages of The Sun.
So convincing was this sighting, that Greenock Social Work department explained to the local paper that they had sent someone up to the site to see if Catman could be located in order to provide assistance. Since then....nothing more. Perhaps he has been quietly helped and moved into some form of residential care to maintain his dignity.
No one of course can agree on who he is really - stories range from a Russian sailor down on his luck to a former yard worker who never returned home. Another theory runs that his first appearance was not long after the TV debut of “Catweazle”, and that he is nothing more complicated than a childhood fantasy made flesh.
Even more intriguing is perhaps the fact that his appearance in the seventies also coincides with the beginning of a series of Big Cat sightings which continue to this day. Could this be some sort of Were-Cat? It is not for me to speculate...though clearly, that would be really cool.
I wrote a wee hometown horror story featuring The Catman in the Greenock Sugar Sheds, its called Candybones, you can listen to it here.
In 2015, a group of students from Edinburgh University created a short film which tried to uncover the truth about our local bogeyman...
Happily, a much more friendly version of the Catman story, appears in a children's book I've written, The Superpower Project...
With the help of a wisecracking, steampunk robot, two accidental superheroes discover that they have inherited some amazing, if unusual, abilities. Computer whiz Megan can fly (mostly sleep-flying, but she's working on it) while her best friend Cam can (in theory) transform into any animal, but mostly ends up as a were-hamster.
Together they must protect the source of their ancestral powers from a wannabe evil mastermind and his gang of industrial transformer robots who've disguised themselves as modern art installations on their Greenock estate.
It isn't easy to balance school and epic super-battles, not to mention finding time to search for other super-talents and train with their Mr Miyagi-esque were-tiger coach.Can Megan and Cam beat the bad guy, defeat his robot transformers and become the superheroes they were born to be?
