The wild woman in Irish myth

Grief and anger as a stimulus for transformation

It seems that everyone knows about the wild men in Celtic mythology. The enigmatic Brittonic figure of Lailoken, who almost certainly, somewhere along the line, became conflated with Merlin, leading to the legend of Myrddin Wyllt, the wild man of the woods. Suibhne Geilt, Mad Sweeney from the old Irish tale Buile Shuibhne (‘The Frenzy of Sweeney’): the subject of a fine body of poetry which extends from Yeats to Heaney. It’s a story we seem to have seen before: everybody knows about the men, but somehow, nobody focuses on the women.

So let’s take a look at Mis, the most colourful and original wild woman of Irish mythology. (There are no great poems about Mis, but I’d like to think there will be, some day.) Mis was the daughter of Dáire Dóidgheal, a powerful ruler from Europe who set out to invade Ireland. He landed with a huge army in Ventry, County Kerry, and a fierce battle followed which lasted a year and a day. Dáire was eventually slain by the hero-warrior Fionn mac Cumaill, which ended the battle. Mis came down in the aftermath to look for her father, and found only his dead body, bleeding, on the beach. Mis was overwhelmed by grief, and flung herself across her father’s body, licking and sucking at his bloody wounds to try to heal them, just as an animal might. When this failed to restore him to life, madness overcame her and she rose up into the air like a bird and flew away into the heart of the Sliabh Mis mountains.

Mis lived in the mountains for many years, and grew long trailing fur and feathers to cover her naked skin. She grew great sharp claws with which she attacked and tore to pieces any creature or person she met. She could run like the wind, and no living thing was safe from her. They thought her so dangerous that the people of Kerry created a desert stripped of people and cattle between themselves and the mountains, just for fear of her.

The king in those parts, Feidlimid Mac Crimthainn, offered a reward to anyone who would capture Mis alive. No-one accepted, for fear of Mis, except for a gentle harper by the name of Dubh Ruis. Dubh Ruis enticed Mis out of hiding, and made love to her. He coaxed her into a pool and, over a period of days, washed away the dirt and scrubbed away her feathers and fur. He combed her hair, and fed her, and made a bed for her. And eventually, he brought her back to civilisation, and married her.

This is some of what I wrote about Mis in If Women Rose Rooted:

Sometimes, madness seems like the only possible response to the insanity of the civilised world; sometimes, holding ourselves together is not an option, and the only way forwards is to allow ourselves to fall apart. As the story of Mis shows, that madness can represent an extreme form of initiation, a trigger for profound transformation.

… Mis is the original wild woman, that archetypal madwoman who lives deep within each of us. She speaks for us all: for the rage which we cannot express, for the grief which eats our heart out, for the voices we have suppressed out of fear. This old story shows us a brutal descent into darkness during which all illusions are stripped away and old belief systems evaporate, and in doing so it suggests that the extremities of madness or mental breakdown, with their prolonged, out-of-control descent into the unknown, might offer us a path through which we can come to terms with the truth. Like other legendary geilta (the Irish word for madwomen) Mis is driven to extremity in her grief, shape-shifting into bird form, flying away into the hills and woods, growing fur and feathers, eating wild and raw food, leaving the intolerable world behind her. But a geilt cannot emerge from her madness and come back to the world until she has achieved some kind of personal transformation. Through her ordeal – her removal from society and her time spent in the wilderness – she must find a way to reclaim a more authentic sense of identity and belonging. She finds it with the help of a man; she finds it in the union of the masculine and feminine.

So, there we have her: Mis. The furious feminine, all fierce hag energy, wailing her grief into the mountains. A necessary fury, a transformative fury.

I love the story of Mis; I believe it contains a necessary lesson for women in these times. Sometimes, anger and grief is a necessary precursor to transformation. Sometimes, we need to let the wild woman rage. To grow feathers and fur, and run wild through the woods. Sometimes, we need to bite. To stop being nice and talking about love and light and thinking that we can make the world a better place just by pretending that it’s so, or that we can make Donald Trump a better man by sending him love and light through the ether. (Yes, I’ve seen that proposed as a solution to yesterday’s catastrophe by women I’d expect to know better. It beggars belief.) These are dark days in our history, and dark days for women. If women want to change that, we need to take hold of that pure, honest energy which fuels our necessary rage and grief, and use it next for transformation. Find the hag energy. Use it. Transmute it; transform it. It’s what all good alchemists do, and women are born alchemists.

What I particularly like about the story of Mis is that her transformation comes from bringing together both male and female energies. Dubh Ruis is a gentle man; he literally loves her back to life. Like Mis, women can’t do this work alone. Fortunately, there are still good men out there, and I believe that between us, we can do the great work of turning the base metal of a decadent and decaying culture into gold.

For more on the wild men and women of the woods in British and Irish mythology, see this post.

Image by Andrea Kowch

2018-02-06T10:34:31+01:00November 10th, 2016|Article|18 Comments


  1. senlowes2013 November 10, 2016 at 11:22 am

    Great stuff, Sharon! Right on the nail. Theses exactly the process I am going through, but as yet, I’m still in the mountains…It’s good to see that there is hope of transformation, though.

    • Sharon Blackie November 10, 2016 at 2:37 pm

      Sometimes we need to stay for a while in the mountains. As long as we know there’s a way back down 🙂 Good luck with finding that path …

    • margie hartman November 11, 2016 at 1:10 pm

      For lo these many years I have read and received instruction from the book Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D. In the chapter: Marking Territory: The Boundaries of Rage and Forgiveness, I quote from the book: “There is definitely a time for full-bore rage.” page 361 Additionally, she also writes “However, there is also a time for the gust from the gut, a time for right anger, right rage.” page 362

      It is up to us to have the energy to know when. This is good reading for women.

  2. Aurora J Stone November 10, 2016 at 11:57 am

    Powerful words. Powerful images. The gaining/regaining power for transformation is indeed necessary. Wifty drifty just won’t do and never has done. The challenge is to channel this force for transformation in a positive way. Thank you for saying these things, Sharon. More positive than wringing our hands or burying our heads.

    • Sharon Blackie November 10, 2016 at 2:38 pm

      Thanks, Aurora, and yes. It’s all about taking that rage, and focusing it …

  3. Annie Dieu-Le-Veut November 10, 2016 at 12:33 pm

    Wonderful. Thank you!

    • Sharon Blackie November 10, 2016 at 2:38 pm

      You’re welcome 🙂

  4. traciestewart03 November 10, 2016 at 2:10 pm

    Dear Sharon I was curious about your image selections. Do you write and then go searching for an image? Are the artists close to you? Or are they pre selected before you start to write? You blog so regularly that you must have developed ways of being efficient.
    Wild wishes and gratitude for your writings. One of the few I get excited about when I see it in my in box.
    Tracie stewart

    • Sharon Blackie November 10, 2016 at 2:40 pm

      As I’m browsing the web for other things I save images that attract me into a dedicated folder. Which I go through looking for relevant inspiration when I’m blogging. I also have a decent supply of my own photographs. But there are for sure some artists I return to again and again. I love Andrea Kowch’s dangerous women!

  5. Ele November 10, 2016 at 3:58 pm

    Hi Sharon
    I’ve only just “discovered” your writings, and the last two posts. Thank you so much for writing so well, and nailing it every time. And that sentence “[man/masculine/he] loved Her back to Life” is the piece of puzzle I was missing to learn my lesson of self-love. And it also explains how much I need to transform my inner masculine into that Gentle-Man I truly and deeply need to embody my wilderness out in the open.
    Thank you.

    • Sharon Blackie November 18, 2016 at 7:08 am

      Thanks for reading, Ele.

  6. New Moons For Old November 10, 2016 at 6:11 pm

    Such a shame that the wild woman is so often condemned or dismissed in society. We are conditioned to moderate our responses at all times, for the benefit of others, and often the loss is ours alone.

    • Sharon Blackie November 11, 2016 at 6:39 am

      Yes. I’m tired of being told how to be. I’m telling how I AM, now.

  7. Carolyn BIletziclis November 11, 2016 at 1:31 am

    Thank you Sharon, so very well said. I am aghast at Donald Trump being voted as the next President. may all we wild women arise in outrage.

    • Sharon Blackie November 11, 2016 at 6:39 am

      Yes. Outrage is a good starting point for change.

  8. River November 11, 2016 at 6:12 am

    Thank you so much Sharon. At the moment I have grown feathers and fur, and there are times I run wild through the woods-(sometimes its in my heart and mind . I agree about not sending the President-Elect “Love and Light”, but like this story Love does bring balance-or balance brings love and kindness. Let us ‘the common people’ bring love and compassion to what we do and we will tip the balance for women , for the feminine for the non-privleged and for the Earth.

    • Sharon Blackie November 11, 2016 at 6:38 am

      River, this wasn’t a black-and-white blog. ‘Sometimes’, I said, rage is needed. That doesn’t mean love isn’t needed too. It was precisely an argument for balance. But if you insist on loving only light, you miss the healing power of the dark. If people insist on arguing ONLY for love and compassion, they short the batteries of the energy that is fuelled by good, righteous anger. I hope that makes sense.

  9. thebendingmoment November 12, 2016 at 6:36 pm

    Thank you for your voice during this time.

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