The Wise Woman

One sometime finds Lord Dunsany’s novel ‘The Curse of the Wise Woman’ listed among his fantasy works. This is not too surprising, considering the book’s title and the fact that he is best known for his fantasy stories (Dunsany is arguably the most important and influential fantasy writer of all time). But it is not fantasy; it is novel of the Ireland in which the author grew up.

A bit of mysticism does creep in, to be sure, but it is never accepted as ‘true’ in any literal sense. Dunsany wisely leaves it to the reader to decide how to take it, how much of it to believe. Yet it is woven through the narrative and as integral to his Ireland as all the rest.

The novel is something of a love-letter to that Ireland, and there is most certainly some autobiographical material included. A great deal of hunting and shooting fills the pages, along with lessons in old-school conservation. There is also surprising darkness at times.

This is not the urban Ireland, but a wild countryside that fades into the mythical Tir-nan-Og*—at least in the mind of the narrator and other characters. Tir-nan-Og translates as ‘Land of Youth,’ and that is just what Dunsany portrays here; it is the lost Ireland of his youth, in all it beauty and danger.

At the time Dunsay wrote ‘Wise Woman’ he was becoming best known for his humorous Jorkens tall-tales. There is certainly gentle humor and satire in the novel, as there is in much of his writing, but it is, at heart, a serious work. It is also an exceptionally good novel, acclaimed at the time of its publishing (1933), but somewhat forgotten since.

A couple years later, Dunsany published ‘Up in the Hills,’ also set in Ireland but somewhat later, in the aftermath of the establishment of the Free State. More broadly satirical than ‘The Curse of the Wise Woman,’ it is not quite as good (and could possibly offend some) but worth a read.

Early on, the plot of ‘The Curse of the Wise Woman’ revolves (though not very closely) around the ‘political’ murder of the young protagonist’s father. Then it resolves on the need to stop a scheme to drain the bogs—his father had unwisely optioned them to a corporation—and cut all the peat. This is where the Wise Woman’s curse comes in. The fight against those draining the bog and that of Tir-nan-Og against the Church are much the same—and it’s a fight to be found everywhere, then and now, the old ways against the new and, perhaps, nature against man.

Despite loving Dunsany’s fantasy, both short stories and novels, I was new to this book. ‘The Curse of the Wise Woman’ is a fine work of fiction and should not have been forgotten. It may well rival ‘The King of Elfland’s Daughter’ as his best novel of any genre. I strongly recommend the book, which is available free at some sites around the internet (though it is not quite in the public domain yet in all countries). It does remain in print, so copies are available.

*That’s the way Dunsany spells it. One can find other variants.