Here are the occasional reflections of a joyful traveller along the strange pathways of fantasy and adventure. All my reviews are independent and unsolicited. I read many books that I don’t feel sufficiently enthusiastic about to review at all. Rather, this blog is intended as a celebration of the more interesting books I stumble across on my meandering reading journey, and of the important, life-affirming experiences they offer. It is but a very small thank you for the wonderful gifts their writers give.

Monday 6 November 2023

Gods Don’t Cry by Ellen Ryan



Here is the third of my exciting and enriching ‘myths and legends’ discoveries. (See also my previous post.)

Irish treasures

Last year Ellen Ryan produced an outstanding book, Girls Who Slay Monsters, where she brought back to light ‘lost’ Irish myths and legends featuring powerful females. These were not feminist reworking of traditional tales, but original examples of many different kinds of strength that ‘Godesses’ showed in a whole range of rediscovered stories.

Now she has produced an equally engaging and important follow up in Gods Don’t Cry, more unsung stories of Ireland’s forgotten immortals, but this time male examples. However these ‘Gods’ are not altogether the traditional ‘macho’ type of hero; many show what might have thought of as modern sensibilities. They are not only hunters and warriors, but can be vulnerable and empathetic. They are neurodiverse, with different abilities, outlooks and skin shades. They are sometimes magic but can also be deeply human, rejecting violence, needing others, and seeking to be true to themselves. They are healers, musicians, scholars and activists as well as monster slayers.

Old gods, new men

Like the stories in her previous book, these tales do serve to re-attune readers to Ireland’s rich cultural heritage. However, it is perhaps even more important that they project an image of the potential strength and qualities of boys and men that shatter the stereotype of masculinity. Perhaps they will even help to erode cultures of ‘toxic’ masculinity’. This not only reduces the totally unacceptable threat to women and girls, but also gives support for all boys to be themselves, to discover that it is not only possible, but sometimes important not to feel pressured into behaving as a ‘proper lad’. These gods do sometimes cry, as so, when necessary, can boys.

Compelling images

Gods Don’t Cry is also a wonderfully and magnetically accessible book. The text is strong and clear, enhanced by stunningly powerful illustrations by Conor Merriman which, at the same time, allow space for the vulnerabilities and sensitivities so important to these stories. These images are as clever as they are arresting. Additionally , subtitles, following the God’s name title of each story. highlight the qualities displayed. A helpful summary page for each draws out important fact and clarifies meanings and pages of quotation, in large, bold type, entice the reader into particular stories. 

This is a book to dip into, rather than read straight through. However it is a book to which I hope many youngsters will have access,in schools, libraries and perhaps, at home. I  am sure they will then dip into it frequently and with enthusiasm. For teachers, these tales are a gift for short read-aloud sessions, which will then provoke much valuable thought and discussion.

Heroes for all

Together, these two publications not only show children that they too can be heroes, but help them to explore just what sort of hero they can be. Both books seem to be aimed primarily at a young Irish audience, with the laudable intention of opening up to them more of their own culture. I do hope, though, that the author and her publishers will be happy to share them more widely. Both their deeply important human messages and their richly spiritual resonances are universal. These very special works will serve to develop and enrich the sensibilities of young people everywhere, as well as rightly increasing respect and admiration for Ireland’s splendid heritage of storytelling, traditional and literary.