For many years, I have felt an affinity for Celtic anything—knot work, pagan Goddess worship, bagpipe music, you name it, I loved it. I still do, but now there is a faint, uncomfortable tinge to my admiration. Thanks to my wonderful mother and her genealogy research, I now know that while it is true that I am closely related to the Emerald Isle and her inhabitants, the story is much longer and bloodier than it appears on the surface. Tracing our lineage back, we have discovered that our ancestors had the same fascination with the Celts, but in a more direct and active way. Our beloved ancestors were so fascinated, they came over not once, but twice to check them out for themselves, in the form of:
1.) Viking “exploratory committees” and
2.) Bill the Conqueror’s BFF’s.
Oh.
Now I wonder if it’s more than simply a fondness of the culture, or some echo of the need to make it my own that my forebears were so adamantly pursuing. Or maybe-- and this is coming from modern psychology-- I feel guilty on some ethnic level about taking what was never mine in the first place and want to make it up to them in some way. I think it might be both. There is another level of me that does feel very specifically guilt-ridden and unsure about ever voicing it publicly, in a most modern sense though. In most stories, no matter the medium used to deliver them (movies, books, oral traditions), there is a sympathy for the innocent victims of invading forces, the brave fighters standing shoulder to shoulder against overwhelming odds, giving their lives willingly to defend their families and way of life. Or of the righteous fighters of freedom that conquer evil both on their home ground and abroad. But my own bias in this case is towards my ancestors, and how very bad-ass they were. Strength, surety of purpose, and getting the job done right has always been a turn-on for me, a deciding factor in so many choices of my life. Which puts me at odds with the general outlook of morality and storytelling—I root for not the underdog in this case, but for the violent and victorious forces that crushed a smaller and weaker culture so completely that very little of it has translated to modern day.
And let me tell you, pride and mortification mix into a sour and undrinkable brew.
History has always been important to me, for I have a deep seated need to know exactly where I have been in order to move forward, both personally and professionally, and to examine exactly why I do what I do. This is taking the knowledge to an unexpectedly deep level, and revealing to my astonished psyche why I have the tendencies that I do. I am absolutely convinced that genetics play heavily into who you are, along with the cultural affinities that echo down through every generation. The nature vs. nurture conflict, in my mind, is trying to make human behavior fit into a single, easily definable box. Nice and tidy, I would agree on that.
Unfortunately, human behavior is the farthest thing from neat and tidy as you can possibly get. It is both nature and nurture, combined with a sticky, undefined cloud-like ephemeral quality that is as difficult to define as quantum mechanics. It is the link that all of us have to our ancestors, regardless if we know one iota about them. The way you talk, walk, think, and the tone that underlies everything you do is subtly affected by your lineage. If you don’t believe me, try engaging a dog breeder into a discussion over bloodlines and point of origin. Now that is passion on a level that would make any Viking proud.
I once saw a t-shirt during my brief membership in the Society for Creative Anachronism that said “1066—Not Enough Saxon Violence”. On one hand, I was appalled (I was young and idealistic, what can I say), but on a deeper, more instinctual level I agreed. And that appalled me again. But as I grow older, I realize that humans are violent. More so than the ‘natural’ world. And I understood the need to invade, to conquer, to expand and to take what is not mine. And no, fortunately for my neighbors, I put none of those impulses to trial on the surrounding countryside. But I understand it. And I can quietly say, with a very non-PC flair, that my ancestors were really good with follow through, and I’m proud that they had the balls to do what they did. Go team!
