100 Books Like Irish Myths and Legends

I love this story because it is a time portal that swiftly deposited me in the streets of Dublin just before the Easter Rising. I could see the dirty streets and poverty and feel the hunger for change, for freedom from occupation, that was palpable in the air. I watched the unbelievable and fantastic display of doomed, deadly belligerence against the British.

I love the intensity and rawness of the author’s changing outlook. From a disinterested privileged medical student to a hard-core rebel, abandoning his bright future, he leads men across the wilds of Ireland in tasks he would rather not undertake. I love that he tells this with such a poetic turn of phrase that I can feel the grass underfoot as the men walk and my stomach churning as they take aim.

I love the voice of authenticity that emanates from this story. The location is what was once considered one of the most remote, poor parts of Ireland, West Cork. 

The author is a mere teenager at the time of the Rising. I love his deep regard for the men and women of his community, his understanding of the simple pleasures of their hard lives, his ability to communicate their stoic determination to fight the enemy in the face of possible disaster, particular cruelty, and severe punishment if they are caught. 

I love how, without even trying, the author presents an explanation of how the rebel mindset permeated whole swathes of the country.

Frank O'Connor is one of Ireland's most famous writers of short stories. I love that he took on this story about a beloved rebel leader and did so with all of the attention to detail and deep insight into characters that he is known for. I also love that his own affection and admiration of the man shines through even when trying to be dispassionate and unbiased and tell the bad with the good. It matters not.

His love for the man resonates across every type of action Collins takes, good, bad, or ugly. O'Connor opens a window into a nation's deep regard and tragic loss of the fearless man who convinced everyone freedom could be pried from the British and then set about to do it. 

I love this book because it is a compilation of first-person accounts of major events throughout the history of Ireland. From St. Patrick to the raids of the Vikings, the rebellions of former rebels, and all the way to the civil war of 1923-24. Each selection is from extant works located in libraries and institutions around the country.

We hear the wild stories told with awe and wonder, with shock and abhorrence, as if we are sitting in a pub listening to the author whisper his witness in astonishment or regret. Suddenly, we understand the Irish rebels, the generations of rebels through the centuries, and we find ourselves full of admiration for those men and women who endured and fought and finally found freedom for their countrymen.  

This tale of tales is like a 12th-century Irish Arabian Nights. It brings Saint Patrick, a 5th-century missionary, and his priests together with magically long-lived warriors from the fían bands of the giant hero Finn Mac Cumhaill (McCool). Finn’s beloved companions, Cailte and Oisín, recount their many adventures in times gone by with the Otherworldly Túatha Dé (Tribes of the Goddess). Patrick, fearing that their history will be lost when the men finally die, orders his monks to put their tales in writing. 

Patrick must have adored stories of battling kings and alluring princesses, treasure hidden under uncanny mounds, shapeshifters, murderous ravens, and lovers who cross worlds to be together, all presented as an interview between Patrick and pagan elders. One question runs through tales: Is the sí and the ancient indigenous past of Ireland compatible with the orderly future of psalm-singing Christians? So long as the Church is in… show more.

This is a fascinating look at the perceptions of Irish mythology at different points throughout our history. There’s always a lot of fuss on the internet about fantasy writers who get our mythology “wrong”, but Mark Williams shows that the legends themselves and their themes have evolved constantly to reflect the concerns and mores of the times and of the storytellers themselves. Ireland’s Immortals is almost an academic proof of the thesis laid out in Robert Holdstock’s brilliant novel, Mythago Wood, which -- it goes without saying -- I also highly recommend.

In the summer of 1968, I was 20 and spent the summer pretty much banally in Israel and Europe. Around me, the world was on fire, but I was inside my own head.

Eventually, I washed up in Dublin, where I walked in a cold rain to Dorset Street, there to recreate Leopold Bloom’s pork kidney purchase from Dlugacz, the butcher. There was no Dlugacz on Dorset, but there was another butcher who stuffed into stiff pink butcher paper something that glistened and oozed. My plan was to fry it up, as Leopold had, on the hotplate in my rented room. It did not go well. I was felled intestinally in dramatic fashion; pity there was no one to observe. 

Somehow, in my travels, I had obtained a copy of At Swim Two-Birds, and now, my insides recreating The Troubles, I wanly reached for it and read the first paragraph:… show more.

To comprehend the present, one must examine the past and observe the undercurrents that forge a people and their nation. 

Rutherfurd’s Rebels of Ireland succeeds brilliantly in this endeavor. The families in this novel deal with the real historical events that shaped Irish destiny. They drew me into their lives and swept me along on a journey through time. When I finally emerged, I felt as if I had witnessed history, and lived it alongside them!

This marvelous novel allowed me to travel to the remote southwest coast of Ireland, on the Beara peninsula.

The landscape is so evocatively and vividly described that I felt as if I were hiking along with the appealing protagonist, Annie Crowe. Like me, Annie turns to walking and nature when she is depressed or needs thinking time, and boy does Annie have demons to battle! She’s a great character - both tough and fragile, a recovering alcoholic. 

On a job assignment as a public relations expert in support of a copper mine, she finds herself thrust into controversy with the local community. It opposes the mine because it would despoil this wild landscape and also endanger the nesting Red-billed Chough. I loved every detail of the walks and the cliffs and the ocean that Johnson describes.

And running throughout is a spicy thread of ancient mythology and Gaelic mysticism, which… show more.

This book popped up randomly for me on one of those “you’ll probably like this” blurbs and ended up being one of the best “blind book dates” ever. Based on an Ireland that suddenly finds itself sharing dimensions with the fairy world, it vividly portrays just how sadistic fairy legends actually are (rather than how we often sparkle them up to be…)

These twisted, angry, revenge-bent creatures are about as far from Disney as you can possibly get and will stop at nothing in their quest to destroy Ireland’s humans—taking a few fingers (along with your sanity) while they do it. This book is for anyone who a) loves Celtic folklore, b) likes their fairies dark, and c) is so down with horror.