Swiftian Magic and the Legacy of the Irish Satirical Tradition
Inherent in the tradition of Celtic literature is the genre of satire. This is represented by the magical incantations of druidic poets, the medieval tales of wandering scribes, and finally, by characteristically artistic elements of modern literature. Of importance to this exploration is the comparative analysis of the anonymous twelfth-century story entitled “The Vision of Mac Conglinne” and Jonathan Swift’s literary masterpiece, Gulliver’s Travels. Whether these two stories are direct descendants of an earlier strain of invective and spellbinding is cause for debate. However, certain qualities of the autochthonous satires, including didactic purpose, lend credence to the claim that Swift’s novel represents a flowering, if not the culmination, of this strain of generic lineage. It is conceivable that “The Vision of Mac Conglinne,” which is a mixture of both magic and literary technique, is the developmental bridge that links the seemingly disparaging definitions of the satire represented by the polarities of poetical incantation and Swift’s artistic accomplishment. Moreover, there are distinct instances within Gulliver’s Travels that indicate “The Vision of Mac Conglinne” may have been more than merely a thematic reference point. To categorize Swift as a magician is an admitted stretch; however, the character of Gulliver is closely associated with the wandering, marginalized poet of
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this tradition. Furthermore, Gulliver’s episodic travels embody the typology of the Irish comedic spirit represented in works such as “The Vision of Mac Conglinne.” Simultaneously, Swift’s story has figurative elements of vilification and vindictiveness that closely parallel the physical scathing effect of ancient Celtic satire.
The poet of ancient Ireland transcended the preconceived notion of a court jester and weaver of stories. There is indication that these characteristics were in fact a part of the job description. Yet, the Gaelic word for poet, fili, is also defined as seer or diviner and implies occult power and prestige. The Dictionary of Irish Language states, “in early times (fili was) not always distinguished from ‘breithem’ (judge) and ‘senchaid’ (historian) and seems to (have) originally united all three functions” (133). The dictionary also notes that fili can be interpreted as satirist. While modern perceptions of lampoonist exclude the realm of the supernatural, the role of both societal judge and historian are applicable to the present conception of satirist. The perceived disparity between categorizations of ancient Celtic poets as both manipulator of corporeality and fear monger, and the subsequent artistic and literary function of figurative satire, is dispelled by Fred Norris Robinson, “As soon as one begins to examine the so-called satirical material in Irish literature, one finds difficulties in dispensing with the name. In the first place, the Irish language itself employs the same word for rat spells… and for stricter satire of a later age. Furthermore, the persons described as pronouncing satires… were by no means always mere enchanters, but in many cases poets of high station… finally, the subjects of the maleficent verse… are such as might form suitable themes of genuine satire” (98). Robinson lucidly and succinctly outlines the case made for the linear relationship between the role of the ancient Irish magician and subsequent literary satirists. If nothing else, his studies illustrate the duality of the
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fili, as poet and magician, and help ground the assumptions of this essay: that comedic Irish tales of modernity are direct descendants of the prehistoric druidic dark ages.
Robinson further clarifies the multifaceted duties of the ancient poet and insists that there is no differentiation among the supernatural, physically manipulatory elements of druidic paganism and the satire of “mockery and abuse” (104). Whether or not ridicule and incantation are one and the same, the Irish etymology fails to designate a distinction. The remnants of legendary and historical instances of early Irish satire focus on the tangible manifestation of the poet’s word winding. These excerpts illustrate that the ancient satire left visible symbols of the congruous didactic purpose found in what Robinson terms “real” satire. The story of King Caier is the most widely referenced instance of the aforementioned perceptibility of the physical in the genre. The poet Nede, albeit through nefarious intention, ridicules and satirizes King Caier until three blisters are raised on his face, those of “Stain, Blemish, and Defect” (Robinson 113). These material appearances of satire serve ostensibly the identical purpose of figurative lampoon, that of recognizable shame. Interestingly, casting the thematic similarities aside, it is precisely the lore of King Caier that lends credence to the artistic merit of the poet/magician. In his analysis of the linguistic structure of this incantation, James Travis discovers that, “the poem to raise blisters… exhibits the characteristic pagan, Irish prosodic devices of an alliterative link between the end and the beginning of consecutive lines, and of continuous rime at the beginning and end of grammatical units and verse units” (92). Not only does this indicate that the magician is manipulating words in the exercise of invective, it also illustrates a fairly sophisticated use of poetical structure. Mary Claire Randolph agrees that, “The malignant power (of satire) lay in the quatrains themselves. The satirist intoned, in a set order, a given number of times certain words”
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(Celtic Smiths and Satirists 191). The ostensible chasm that separates the chanting of archaic charms from the construction of artistic dimensions of poetry is not as expansive as imagined.
Though the story of Caier is the most widely referenced example of ancient Irish satire, the “first” instance of this genre, as reported by Eugene O’Curry, outlines the poet Cairbre’s indignation toward King Bres, based on a perceived lack of hospitality. Eventually, Bres is unseated by the scathing lambaste of Cairbre (Ancient Irish History 248-49). The direct plot link and thematic analogy to “The Vision of Mac Conglinne,” may be disregarded for the time being in order to further investigate the incantatory, as well as poetical, aspect of the satire delivered by the fili. Regarding this exemplification, Robert Elliott states that, “‘the first’ Irish satire (‘Bres’) is clearly an incantation, a spell enwrapped in the mysterious linkages of end and entrance rhyme, strong alliteration, assonance, and other metrical devices universally favored by magicians” (38). Obviously, these “metrical devices” are utilized by poets as well, again illustrating the inseparable bond between poet and magician in ancient Ireland, as well as indicating that satire at its most basic function is, arguably, as much an artistic endeavor as Gulliver’s Travels. Robinson and Randolph both attest to the implication that prehistoric poetics is the work of magicians. Robinson insists that this “procedure belongs in the realm of sorcery” (97) and Randolph concludes that “physical mutilation… (was) the stock in trade of the ancient Celtic satirist” (188). Though Elliott’s conjectures rely extensively upon the work of Robinson, his interpretation has a slight variance. “Whether the satirist actually killed his foe by the power of his verse making…is less important than whether his culture, or his tradition, allotted him that kind of power” (20). This statement implies a metaphoric interpretation of the power of the early satirists creating a closer affiliation to the antecedent “real” satire. Certainly Robinson’s research
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can in no way be disavowed, yet Elliot’s statement suggests a subconscious, metaphoric genealogy that fosters not only a fear of and reverence for the poet, but, in addition, the necessitation of a satiric tradition.
Regardless of the validity of the previous statement, early Irish satire employs what are distinguishable magical elements that manifest themselves in corporeality. “The Vision of Mac Conglinne,” regarded by Vivian Mercier, Robin Flowers, and others as the quintessential explication of medieval Irish parody, represents the point of convergence between the previously outlined prehistoric notions of satire and the later brand of Swiftian comic irony. Anier Mac Conglinne, the protagonist, of “The Vision,” is a poet/satirist called upon to expel the demon of gluttony from the throat of King Cathal mac Finguine. Magical elements of satire are immediately apparent. At the behest of King Fergal, who is Cathal’s primary competitor for the kingship of Ireland, a poet, through spell weaving, poisons apples that are for Cathal’s consumption. “Cathal thereupon ate the apples and little creatures through the poison spells were formed of them in his inside” (552). The panacea for Cathal’s gluttony also resides in the realm of lyrical incantation. Mac Conglinne recites an extensive list of poetical instruction that serve as emetic- coaxing, tempting and conjuring the demon from Cathal’s throat. “At the pleasure of the recital and the recounting of those many various pleasant viand in the king’s presence, the lawless beast that abode in the inner bowels of Cathal Mac Finguine came forth, until it was licking its lips outside its head” (584).Thus, a remnant of the performative function of prehistoric satire attaches itself to this medieval tale.
Mac Conglinne’s occult powers are further exemplified in other instances. Though not readily applicable to satire, the following example illustrates the poet’s magical powers. “Putting
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a linen apron about him below, and placing a flat linen cap on the crown of his head, he lighted a fair four-ridged, four-apetured, four-cleft fire of ash wood, without smoke, without fume, without sparks” (571). Clearly, Mac Conglinne has the ability to channel the Druidic powers of the pagan world. A further instance of this story’s link to antiquity is the portrayal of the multifaceted role of the fili. “(Mac Conglinne) began juggling for the host on the floor of the royal house, a thing not fit for an ecclesiastic, and practicing satire and buffoonery and singing songs” (565). His station as poet requires all of these functions, however, in Christian Ireland the conversion of the scholar from fili to clergyman has transpired. Again, an association between prehistoric Ireland and the Patrician order, embodied by Mac Conglinne, indicates the story is the binding link in the evolving satiric chain.
Elliot also recognizes that certain medieval stories, including “The Vision of Mac Conglinne,” reinforce the hypothesis that a transition from magic to literary achievement is taking place. “The breakthrough from magic to art is clearly discernible… the old magical satire… is remarkably confronted with a new literary satire” (95). As previously discussed, the remedy for satire is in the process of magical incantation. In addition, that which rouses the indignation of Mac Conglinne is also a reflection of former tales. At the outset of the narrative, when Mac Conglinne chooses to seek refuge at the Corkian monastery, “no one came to visit him or do reverence to him” (554). This echoes the aforementioned story of Cairbre and Bres, and is also analogous to others. “The satirical verses of the notorious Aonghus na n-aor… are mainly descriptive of the sad lack of hospitality which he alleges that he found everywhere he journeyed through out the country” (Knott and Murphy 81). Thus, the Vision conforms to an apparently common plot development of prehistoric satire. Yet the thematic and technical
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sophistication of “The Vision of Mac Conglinne” illustrates the evolution of the genre. The subject matter that is lampooned includes both the clergy and nobility, while literary techniques include parody, hyperbole, and sarcasm. Gulliver’s Travels extrapolates these toward the level of polished artistry.
The thematic juxtaposition of “The Vision of Mac Conglinne” and Gulliver’s Travels reveals prevalent similarities. The issues of gluttony and avarice combine to relate the most pointed critique evident in “The Vision.” Pinchan, the host of Mac Conglinne and Cathal’s eventual meeting, states, “‘troublesome is Cathal alone; and though troublesome is he in his first meal, more troublesome is he in his prime feast, but most troublesome of all is his feast again’” (565). The king’s insatiability appears to be a condemnation of the voracious appetite of the nobility. His rapacious consumption has rendered him an ineffective leader and the demon of gluttony threatens to destroy all of Ireland. Cathal’s edacity metaphorically represents the nobility’s quest for a grander usurpation of authority. In Swift’s tale, however, the author implies that this insatiability is not limited to those in power. In fact, human nature dictates what eventually amounts to an unquenchable lust. In Gulliver’s final voyage to the land of the Houyhnhnms, he has the following to say about the Yahoos, who are an obvious double for mankind. “There was nothing that rendered the Yahoos more odious, than their undistinguished Appetite to devour everything that came in their Way, whether Herbs, Roots, Berries, corrupted Flesh of Animals or all mingled together” (197). As in “The Vision,” Swift equates the Yahoo’s esurience to a more encompassing critique of the avarice of the human animal. This does not represent a direct link between the two texts, but rather a thematic similarity within the realm of satiric literature.
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Mac Conglinne himself is not immune to this encompassing human detriment. “‘Since I have not that belly…give me your counsel, for you have made me greedy’” (575). The phantom implores Mac Conglinne to seek the Wizard Doctor in search of a cure. Later it is revealed that the remedy for Cathal is one of purging. He must literally vomit out the demon of gluttony to recover his senses. Interestingly, Gulliver discusses a similar restorative for the gluttonous human. “We fed on a Thousand Things which operated contrary to each other, that we eat when we were not hungry, and drank without Provocation of thirst…(leading to) an endless Catalogue of all Diseases incident to human bodies… (The Doctor’s) Fundamental is that, all diseases arise from repletion, from whence they conclude, that a great Evacuation of the body is necessary, either through the natural Passage or upward through the mouth’” (191). This rather lengthy passage connects the two texts. Both satirize the gluttonous voracity and avarice of humanity. Furthermore, both employ similar curative methodologies. On a metaphorical level, it is the satirist’s duty to purge humanity of all manifestations of sinfulness. Thus “The Vision” and Swift both depart from the vindictive, scabrous intention of druidic satirists, and perform a process more attune to the role of healer.
In order to affirmatively designate Swift in the lineage of Irish comic tradition beyond the merely thematic similarities of “The Vision of Mac Conglinne” and Gulliver’s Travels, two questions must be addressed. Firstly, were ancient and medieval Irish works available to Swift? Secondly, did the satires and fairy tales influence his own narration? Margaret R. Grennan states that “the country of (Swift’s) long exile may have given him more than materials for expression; it may have suggested the manner as well” (188). One of the arguments negating the influence of Celtic tradition on Swiftian prose is the fact that The Dean had no knowledge of the Gaelic
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language. Yet Mercier asserts that the study and knowledge of Irish was more prevalent than commonly supposed (191). Grennan agrees with this postulate stating that, “Scholarly efforts (in Dublin during Swift’s time) included Irish dictionaries, translations, and manuscript collection” (197). It is reasonable to assume that, though Swift was not literate in the native language of his adopted homeland, his proximity to Trinity College and his role in the academic environment would have given curiosity ample opportunity for exploration. In fact, both Grennan and Arthur Brown assert that Gulliver’s Travels shows certain striking resemblances to other older Celtic tales. Brown claims that Gulliver’s episode in Brobdingnag has certain similarities with the Irish story entitled, “The Death of Fergus.” Furthermore says Brown, “The voyages to Lilliput and Brobdingnag…have the charm of a folk tale” (45). Grennan reiterates that, not only would these ancient tales have been available to Swift, it is a discredit to the significance of both the Celtic tales, as well as Gulliver’s Travels, to disregard the influence of the formative mythology. “It would be a limited appreciation of the magic of Lilliput and Brobdingnag that would exclude entirely the possibility of native influence” (191). Essentially, geo-spiritual locale, consciously or subconsciously, exerted an irrefutable influence on Swiftian prose.
These conjectures do not account for the satire so prevalent in Gulliver’s Travels, nor do they indicate that Celtic satire is the ancestor of Swift’s own comic vision. However, Grennan elucidates the fact that Swift’s Lilliputian language exhibits a certain resemblance to Irish vocabulary. Interestingly, in comparing these two languages, Grennan explicates a stunning satiric link. “Compare, for example, the Lilliputian borach, tolgo and lon with the Irish borrach meaning ‘haughty men’…tolg, meaning ‘pride’ and lon, voracity and gluttony” (200-01). Not only is Swift borrowing from the Irish lexicon, proof enough of its influence, the vocabulary he
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chooses to appropriate is entrenched in the figurative diction of satire. This seems irrevocably intentional and explicates a direct association between Swiftian satire and the satiric vocabulary of the Irish language. Not only does Swift apparently display the thematic features of Irish comedy, as Mercier claims (189), there is also a linguistic connection that firmly plants Gulliver’s Travels in the soil of Irish satire.
An attempt to join “The Vision of Mac Conglinne” and Gulliver’s Travels becomes a necessity after establishing the conjunction of Swift’s story with the more generic qualities of satire. Though Swift does not replicate exact or specific scenes from “The Vision,” there are a number of instances that reveal both an overt influence of the medieval satire and Swift’s presumed foreknowledge of the text. Two acts to specifically analyze in Mac Conglinne involve the ever-present image of consumption. The first proof concerns Cathal. “(He) did not let the thong of his shoes be half loosed, before he began supplying his mouth from both hands with apples” (566). Later in the narration, the Wizard Doctor, in order to satiate Mac Conglinne, states, “‘let each morsel you put in your mouth be as big as a heron’s egg… drink… only as much as twenty men will drink’” (583). The absurd proportions exemplify the use of hyperbole at work in the text. Gulliver’s enormous height in Lilliput and his diminutive stature in Brobdingnag illustrate Swift’s own playful portrayal of size. In his discussion of the eating habits of the Brobdingnagian queen, Gulliver observes, “the Queen… took up at one mouthful as much as a dozen English farmers could eat at a Meal, which to me was… a nauseous sight” (72). A feature of effective satire is the ability to induce laughter, and each of these scenes is certainly successful in that regard. Yet the relevant interpretation to be garnered is the obvious similarity between the cited passages. Gulliver is disgusted by the quantity of the queen’s consumption
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because of his size, he lacks the proportion to the food that Mac Conglinne and Cathal are afforded. However, the response of the reader to each grotesque image of ingestion demonstrates that there is a similar motif at work in these stories. If Swift did imitate these images it was only because of their obvious effectiveness upon an audience. Again, though the comparison drawn between the two texts is in no way absolute, the similarity between the passages provides evidence that Swift was aware, if not of “The Vision of Mac Conglinne,” then, at least, of the technique of hyperbole used in these excerpts.
An additional comparison between instances in the two stories provides more evidence for a link in authorial technique. Again, though the following scenes are not punctilious reflections, there is enough of a similarity to make a conjecture. In one of the more laughable scenes in “The Vision of Mac Conglinne,” the narrator has just arrived at the house of the Wizard Doctor, which is constructed from all means of edibles. As Mac Conglinne enters the house, he says, “I saw a pure white bed-tick of butter on which I sat; but I sank in it to the tips of my ears. The eight strongest men that were in the king’s house had hard work to pull me out by the top of the crown of my head” (581). Obviously, this was originally written in Gaelic, yet the tone of voice is strikingly similar to Swift’s narrator. Swift may have understood the effectiveness of this technique. The fact that the entire realm of the Wizard Doctor is constructed from food is a satiric absurdity. The size of the food, specifically the pat of butter, is equally comical. Two specific Gulliverian adventures in Brobdingnag have an uncanny resemblance to the scene in “The Vision.” While in Brobdingnag, Gulliver is subjected to a series of accidents caused by his miniscule size. Two of these instances echo Mac Conglinne’s encounter with the slice of butter. “Walking to the Top of a fresh Mole-hill, I fell to my Neck in the Hole through
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which the Animal had cast up the Earth” (80). Though the situation is slightly altered, the comic effect is undeniably similar to the Mac Conglinne accident. Both serve as instances of self deprecation and cause an uproarious response from the reader. Another similar Gulliverian instance occurs a few pages later. “There was a Cow-dung in the Path, and I must needs try my Activity by attempting a leap over it. I took a Run, but unfortunately jumped short and found my self just in the Middle up to my Knees” (86). This passage is more an admonition of the detrimental consequence of pride than the other two; those tend to be merely embarrassing accidents. Gulliver’s encounter with the dung reveals his own narcissistic, inflated sense of self and serves as a perfect example of satire- a comic incident with a moralizing effect. Both of the examples from Gulliver’s Travels confirm at least a second-hand knowledge of “The Vision of Mac Conglinne,” if not proof of overt emulation.
The final exploration of this essay is an attempt to solidify the connection between the satirists of the Celtic tradition and the power that the fili possess in the realm of Irish society. The Irish satirists from Nede, to Mac Conglinne, to Swift garner power from their marginal position and the unique vantage point that this station affords. Randolph says, “very few of the ancient heroic tales preserved failed to have a roving, scheming satirist” (129). From this statement it may be inferred that the satirist’s societal position was one that influenced, but remained separated from, the centralized workings of the establishment. Mac Conglinne is indicative of this marginal entity. Says Flower, “Mac Conglinne… is an example of…the truant scholar… the happy go-lucky vagabond” (76). Mercier echoes this summation (214). Textual evidence in “The Vision of Mac Conglinne” confirms this archetype. “He searched his mind whether he would make his first poetical journey” (553). Does Swift fall into this categorization?
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Remembering that he was exiled from his homeland of England to inhabit the nether post of Dublin infers that he was ostracized from the mechanism of the British hierarchy. The peripheral position bestowed upon him both the vision and the artistic license to construct his biting satirical tracts aimed at the British nobility and clergy. Though he was not a “roving satirist,” the character of his creation, Gulliver, was. Gulliver’s journeys take him to the courts of unknown kingdoms granting him the liberty to observe, critique, and lampoon without fully participating in the operation of the respective societies. His travels also afford him the opportunity to question and ridicule the traditions of his own civilization.
The satirist’s necessary occupation of the outskirts of both the political court and the monastic centers of learning, coupled with his ability to create shame and dishonor through satirical incantation or rhetoric, solidified the poet’s enduring power. From the initial instances of Irish tradition, the fear produced by satirist’s poisonous word windings ensured his abiding significance. “It was a general belief, sometimes explained by the sacredness of the poet’s person, that no request of his should ever be denied, and there was undoubtedly a strong feeling that the poets were entitled to be rewarded for their work. But the real motive for yielding to their exactions seems to often have been the fear of their attacks” (Robinson 122-23). This notion adheres to Calvert Watkins’ theoretical presumption of “imperishable fame.” Just as the scribe could bestow a lasting and positive legacy on a noble or clergyman, so too could the satirist eternally ruin a reputation. The magical ability to control the recorded destiny of an individual is precisely why the satirists of ancient Ireland were revered. The continuance of this tradition is elucidated in “The Vision of Mac Conglinne.” The Wizard Doctor relays the following message to his constituency, “(Mac Conglinne) must be well served… he has the wit both to censure and
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to praise” (579). In the case of “The Vision,” the poet accomplishes an ultimate good, the purging of Cathal’s demon, and he is duly compensated.
Whether Swift is rewarded for his attempted societal purge is undetermined. However, through the voice of Gulliver, he states his discontent for the abiding hypocrisies of society. “After above Six Months Warning I cannot learn that my Book hath produced one single Effect according to mine Intentions: I desired you would let me know… when… Judges (were) learned and upright; Pleaders honest and modest… the Young Nobility’s Education entirely changed… courts… of great Ministers thoroughly weeded and swept… a Thousand other Reforms” (Introduction: ix). By this stage, Gulliver’s misanthropy has consumed his rationality; however shards of Swift’s own philosophy penetrate the surface. Just as satirists of an earlier age were able to do, Swift’s didacticism should instill fear in the establishment. This illustrates his intrinsic bond to the Celtic satiric tradition. Mercier agrees, “Swift and Gaelic satirists have a great deal in common… (they) expect the objects of (their) satire to quail and tremble before (them)” (192). The fear of the truth teller is a universal societal construct. To disclose the degradation that resides beneath the surface of ordered society is the duty of the marginalized poet, prophet, and seer: the satirist.
Both “The Vision of Mac Conglinne” and Gulliver’s Travels adhere to the foundations of the Celtic satirical tradition. They each use webs of words and witticisms, magical incantation, to accomplish their moral task. However, one of the key differences that separate these two texts from the prehistoric, druidic formulation of satire is their reliance on humor. Swift’s masterpiece is representative of the pinnacle of this genre. Though it has strong ties to its predecessors, its use of irony and heightened parody represent the progression of the tradition. Swift is indebted to
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both the magical and literary traditions of his adopted homeland, but he is clearly the chief proprietor of the satirical genre. No other piece is as expansive or exhaustive in its categorization of satiric techniques and themes. From magical syntax, to lampoon and lambaste, from sarcasm to hyperbole, no political or social leader, in fact no person, is immune to his insights and condemnation. Thus, Swift is representative of the fruition of an integral aspect of Irish culture and tradition.
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Works Cited
Brown, Arthur. “Gulliver’s Travels and an Irish Folk Tale.” Modern Language Notes 19.2 (February 1904): 45-46.
Elliott, Robert C. The Power of Satire: Magic, Ritual, Art. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1960.
Flower, Robin. The Irish Tradition. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1947. 75-77.
Grennan, Margaret R. “Lilliput and Leprecan: Gulliver and the Irish Tradition.” ELH 12.3 (September 1945): 188-202.
Knott, Eleanor and Gerard Murphy. Early Irish Literature. New York: Barnes and Noble, 1966. 77-82.
Mercier, Vivian. The Irish Comic Tradition. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1962.
O’Curry Eugene. Ancient Irish History Volumes I & II. New York: Burt Franklin, 1966. 248-249.
- - -. On the Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish Volume II. New York: Lemma, 1971. 215-220.
Randolph, Mary Claire. “Celtic Smiths and Satirists: Partners in Sorcery.” ELH 8.3 (September 1941): 184-197.
- - -. “The Medical Concept in English Renaissance Satiric Theory: Its Possible Relations and Implications.” Studies in Philology 38.2 (April 1941): 125-157.
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Robinson, Fred Norris. “Satirists and Enchanters in Early Irish Literature.” Studies in the History of Religions. (New York, 1912) 95-130. Rpt. In American Committee for Irish Studies. Ed. Lawrence J. McCaffrey.
Swift, Jonathan. Gulliver’s Travels. New York: Dover Publications, 1996.
“The Vision of Mac Conglinne.” Ancient Irish Tales. Ed. Tom Peete Cross and Clark Harris Slover. New York: Barnes and Noble, 1936. 551-587.
Travis, James. “A Druidic Prophesy, The First Irish Satire, and a Poem to Raise Blisters.” PMLA 57.4 (December 1942): 909-915.
Watkins, Calvert. How to Kill a Dragon: Aspects of Indo-European Poetics. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995.
Copyright 2004
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