Windsor’s Scottish Heritage – Culture – Folklore: Selkies, Finfolk, and Mermaids
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Culture > Folklore > Sea Creatures:Selkies, Finfolk, and Mermaids
Culture: Folklore
Selkies, Finfolk, and Mermaids:
“A Mermaid”
No point in Scotland is farther than 66 miles from the sea – so it’s no wonder that folklore has filled the country’s waters with
hosts of mythical creatures. The legends of selkies and Finfolk in particular are unique to Orkney, Shetland, and the Western Isles,
where they were first introduced by Norse settlers. The selkies and Finfolk, although complete opposites in their natures, both
evolved from the same source: the Sami people of Scandinavia, a nomadic tribe that roamed the northern reach of Norway known locally
as “Finnmark,” and a tribe Norsemen feared and respected for their great magic.
These mighty sorcerers, known as the “Finnar” in Old Norse, were able to command the weather; they held great powers of healing
and prophecy; and they could take the shape of sea creatures or bears. And they clung to their old shamanistic religion while
Norwegians converted to Christianity, making it easy for their neighbours to claim that they wielded the power of the devil. Shunning
the Sami people out of fear, Norwegian imagination transformed them into a semi-mythical race shrouded in mystery and darkness.
As the Norwegians began to colonize the islands of northern and western Scotland, they brought their tales of the Finnar with
them. Even into the twentieth century, there were Orcadians who, supposedly in possession of otherworldly powers, claimed
descendancy from the Finnar. Over time, however, the lore became corrupted, and this mighty race of magicians transformed into the
mythical, aquatic Finfolk. The shape-shifting element of the Finfolk detached and further evolved into a separate race of
skin-shedding selkie-folk.
Selkie is simply the Orcadian term for seal. Scotland’s seas are full of seal populations, so it is quite common for people on
the shore to look out over the water and see seal heads bobbing above the waves, their gaze returned by inquisitive, eerily human
eyes. New Age lore has recast selkies as benign sea spirits, creatures at odds with the sense of terror they once inspired in the
sea-faring populations. Originally associated with the feared Finnar and Finfolk, the selkies took on their distinct form as they
merged with another element of Sami culture: kayaking.
As fishing became a major Norwegian industry in the Middle Ages, the Sami took to the productive northern seas. They constructed
their lightweight kayaks from deer sinews or seal skins, markedly different from the wooden vessels used by the Vikings who were
colonizing Scotland at the time. Being made from animal skins, these kayaks, although enormously swift, would also lose buoyancy as
they became water-logged. Sodden kayaks would have to be pulled onto shore regularly to dry out.
The selkie-folk are seals that become human after coming onto land and removing their skins. Without this skin, the shape-shifters
cannot return to their homes in the sea. Documented sightings of naked Finfolk with their skins sitting nearby undoubtedly peppered
the existing lore, especially since the Sami continued to travel in animal-skin boats into the eighteenth century. Orcadians and
Shetlanders watched from afar as foreigners dragged their upside-down seal-skin kayaks onto the shore and emerged from underneath to
rest. The sea-faring creatures became human, and became legend.
While Finfolk retained their malevolence throughout the centuries, the selkie-folk transformed into gentle creatures, beautiful
and lithe in their human forms. Once ashore, the selkie-folk would cast off their magical sealskins to become human, and bask in the
sun on lonely stretches of sand. If the sealskin was lost, or stolen, however, the creature was doomed to remain in human form until
the skin could be recovered, for it was the only way for the selkie to return to its original form, and hence to its home in the sea.
Because the skin was so precious, selkies would hastily snatch them up and rush back into the safety of the water if someone
disturbed them while they were on land.
Capture of a Selkie-woman
Selkie-men became famous for their handsomeness and irresistible powers of seduction over mortal women. They had no qualms about
stashing their sealskins somewhere safe while they ventured inland to seek out lovers, single or married. If a woman wished to meet
a selkie-man, according to legend she needed to shed seven tears into the sea at high tide. The selkie-man would then come ashore to
take her as a lover. Women who went missing while at sea or on the ebb were said to have gone back to the watery homes of
selkie-men.
Selkie-women were no less desirable to mortal men. Selkie-women, however, were chaster than their male counterparts, and selkie
lore is full of tales of cunning young men acquiring a selkie-girl’s sealskin by theft or deceit. The poor creature would be left
with no choice but to marry their captors. These stories usually end with one of the selkie-wife’s children returning the hidden
skin to their mother after many years. Sometimes her children go to the sea with her, while others remain on land with their
father.
The story of the Goodman o’ Wastness is a typical tale. Read the story at Orkneyjar onlinePlease note this link will open in a new window or tab
Finfolkaheem
Whereas the selkie-folk were gentle and often returned the kindness of mortals – as in the example of “The Selkie That Deud No
Forget”, Finfolk retained their dark and gloomy natures. They originated with the Finnar of Norway and became truly amphibious, as
opposed to the selkie-folk, who were only able to come on land once a year at Midsummer’s Eve. Finfolk came and went between the
undersea world and the human realm as they pleased. Nomadic like their Sami “ancestors”, they spent the long island winters in their
majestic city at the bottom of the sea, Finfolkaheem and took up residence on their magical vanishing island home of Hildaland. Legend
has it that the uninhabited Orcadian island of Eynhallow was once Hildaland, before a farmer from Evie reclaimed it for the human
world.
Read the story of “The Selkie That Deud No Forget” at Orkneyjar onlinePlease note this link will open in a new window or tab
Read more about Finfolkaheem at Orkneyjar onlinePlease note this link will open in a new window or tab
Read more about Hildaland at Orkneyjar onlinePlease note this link will open in a new window or tab
Read the story of the Freeing of Eynhallow at Orkneyjar onlinePlease note this link will open in a new window or tab
Eynhallow Island
Orkney’s mysterious “vanishing island” remains enchanted to this day. On 14 July 1990, the Orkney Heritage Society and the Royal
Society for the Protection of Birds organized a ferry trip to the uninhabited island of Eynhallow (Norse for “Holy Island”) for a
short visit. Eighty-eight visitors disembarked the boat. Only eighty-six returned.
The Kirkwall Police and Shetland Coastguard scoured the island and nearby islands with heat-seeking devices in search of the two
missing passengers to no avail. They finally concluded that the ferry crew must have miscounted the number of passengers. Older local
residents, however, murmured that the missing tourists were actually Finfolk returning to their ancient home.
Despite the modern magic of television and the Internet, there are still some parts of Scotland where ancient folk tradition still
bubbles beneath the surface of daily life. The mystery was never solved.
Finmen were exceptionally territorial and eager to wreak vengeance on any human who might happen to trespass or fish in their
waters. Sometimes a Finman would simply break a fisherman’s line; other times he would wait until the fisherman had anchored his boat
and then slip off the anchor stone, leaving the vessel to the perils of the current. More malevolent Finmen attacked hapless
fishermen on the spot and set them to the mercy of the open sea. In order to protect themselves from Finmen, fishermen marked crosses
on their line sinkers and on the hulls of their boats – for Finmen, pagan sorcerers that they were, abhorred the cross and would not
come within half a mile of one.
In places like Orkney, Shetland, and the Hebrides – worlds in which peoples’ lives are so inextricably connected to the sea – it
is easy to see how these types of legends took root. Dangerous water took the lives of many daring fishermen: the friends and
relatives of those lost at sea, hoping that their beloved fisherman might still be alive somewhere, often blamed his disappearance
on a mermaid.
“The Fisherman and the Syren”
The mermaid, daughter of a Finman, had good reason for abducting mortal men: beautiful as a girl, with a long, glistening fish
tail, dove-white skin, and sweeping golden tresses, she could discard her fish tail and become a beautiful mortal woman if she
married a mortal man. If, however, she married one of her own kind, her exquisite beauty would gradually degenerate until she became
a hideously revolting Finwife. For obvious reasons, the mermaid’s desire for a human husband was strong. So when young men
disappeared in the turbulent waters around the islands, he was said to have been ensnared by a mermaid’s charms.
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