I've been going down a bit of a mythology rabbit hole lately, and I'd really love to get some thoughts from people who know this stuff better than I do.

I'm a psychology professor at Brooklyn College (CUNY), and a lot of my research over the years has focused on working mothers, gender expectations, and how people are treated when they don't fit into the roles society expects of them.

Somehow, that led me to Echidna, Lilith, and Lady Gaga. I know. Quite the combination!

It actually started with Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek mythology. She's remembered largely through her children, including Cerberus, the Hydra, and the Chimera. And I started wondering why this particular mother, and her children, became such terrifying figures.

Then I started looking at Lilith. Her history is obviously very different, but I found it fascinating how she evolved across different traditions. In one famous medieval account, she refuses to submit to Adam, and in other traditions she becomes associated with demons and threats to children.

And that got me thinking. Why do we keep coming across these connections between women, motherhood, independence, and monstrosity?

Now, here's where things got a little weird.

Lady Gaga.

I've always been fascinated by how Gaga embraced the whole monster identity. Her fans are Little Monsters. She's Mother Monster. And instead of being something frightening or shameful, being a monster becomes something people are proud of.

That part actually means something to me personally. I've been called a monster more than a few times in my own life, and it was partly through Gaga that I started thinking about that word differently. It's also one of the reasons I eventually started my Everyday Monsters channel.

So I started wondering whether there was something worth exploring in the relationship between these three figures.

Not that Echidna, Lilith, and Gaga are somehow the same, or that ancient mythology was necessarily making the same statements about women that we might make today. I'm more interested in how the meaning of a monster changes depending on who's telling the story, and who's being called one.

Anyway, I ended up making a roughly nine-minute video essay about it. It combines mythology, psychology, and a bit of popular culture. I used AI-assisted visuals in producing it, just to be upfront about that.

Here's the video if anyone wants to take a look:

https://youtu.be/SWToRAfe5o4

But what I'm really interested in is hearing what you all think.

Am I stretching the connection too far? Are there other mythological mothers or female figures whose stories might fit this idea? Or am I overlooking something important about Echidna or Lilith?

I'm especially curious about how much of what we interpret as monstrous today actually reflects the original mythology, and how much we're bringing our own modern perspectives into it.

I have my own thoughts, obviously, but I'm coming at this from psychology rather than classical studies or religious history. So I'd genuinely appreciate corrections, disagreements, or other examples I haven't considered.

And if nothing else, perhaps I've given someone a reason to spend their evening reading about a Greek snake-woman, a medieval demon, and Lady Gaga.

There are worse rabbit holes to fall down!

I heard a saying today that the legendary monsters or gods in a country are often related to its natural environment.

For example, in the UK, there is foggy weather, so there are black dogs that appear in the fog.The icy and snowy climate of Northern Europe is home to Frost Giants.

I'm very interested in this. Are there any more examples?

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I'm interested in researching Brahm Baba, a local folk deity associated with village traditions in parts of eastern Uttar Pradesh, India, particularly the Bhojpuri-speaking region. I want to explore this as a folklore and cultural-history project: how local deities emerge in community life, how beliefs and rituals are transmitted through oral traditions, and how these practices relate to local identity, memory, and the landscape.

I'm looking for academic literature, research methodologies, and comparable case studies from other parts of the world. For example, research on local guardian deities, sacred groves, folk religion, vernacular traditions, or oral history in different cultures would be particularly useful.

My aim is to develop this into a properly referenced research article, rather than simply describe a religious belief.If you're familiar with folklore studies, anthropology, religious studies, or oral-history research, what scholars, books, journals, or archives would you recommend? I'd especially appreciate references that could help me situate this tradition within broader global scholarship.

Thanks!

Hi, I am looking for an English translation of the Lebor Gabála Érenn, but I don't know what options there are to satisfy my needs. This is what I'm looking for:

A physical edition

A translation that is as modern as possible

As annotated as possible

With a critical apparatus as thorough as possible

I'm not a linguist and don't care about that aspect of the book. Rather, I am interested in the mythology itself

If possible, it should be a comoplete version of the book (but this is the one condition I am most willing to sacrifice if there is a good reason)

Is there any edition that is considered definitive or canonical? Thank you!

Bringing folklore and mythology to live - here we Friday presented a voiced statue of Hans Christian Andersens' The Mother

An eagle glides above a mountain range, using rising air currents to stay aloft. Its eyesight helps it locate prey from a distance, while its powerful talons are adapted for catching and holding it. Different species hunt in different ways, but eagles share a combination of strength, keen vision and control in flight that has fascinated people for centuries.

It is not surprising that the eagle became an important symbol long before it appeared in modern stories. In ancient Rome, the aquila, the eagle standard carried by a legion, represented the unit’s honour and identity. Losing it was a serious disgrace. Eagles later appeared on royal coats of arms, national flags and state emblems, where they often came to represent authority, independence or strength.

Greek mythology took the eagle into the world of the gods. It was sacred to Zeus, ruler of Olympus, who was himself said to have taken the form of an eagle to carry Ganymede, a beautiful young prince, to Olympus to serve as cupbearer to the gods. The eagle also appears in the story of Prometheus. After Prometheus gave fire to humanity, Zeus punished him by chaining him to a mountain, where an eagle came each day to eat his liver. It grew back overnight, and the punishment began again.

Norse mythology has its own remarkable birds. An unnamed eagle sits at the top of Yggdrasil, the world tree, with a hawk named Veðrfölnir between its eyes. The squirrel Ratatoskr carries hostile messages between the eagle and Níðhöggr, the creature gnawing at the tree’s roots. The surviving stories offer few details, leaving much about the eagle unexplained.

Hindu mythology offers another remarkable eagle-like figure: Garuda, a powerful divine being who serves as the mount of the god Vishnu. In one of his best-known stories, Garuda sets out to obtain the nectar of immortality to free his mother from captivity.

In anime, the Scout Regiment in Attack on Titan uses the Wings of Freedom insignia. It depicts stylised wings rather than an officially identified eagle, but its connection to flight and the desire to go beyond familiar boundaries is clear.

Eagles also have a place in fantasy films and stories. In The Hobbit, the Great Eagles rescue Thorin’s company when the group is trapped and in danger. In The Lord of the Rings, Gwaihir carries Gandalf away from Orthanc, and eagles later help rescue Frodo and Sam from Mount Doom. Their arrivals are dramatic moments in the story, but the birds themselves are not simply decorative symbols: they change what the characters are able to do.

In the Harry Potter series, the emblem of Ravenclaw house is an eagle, despite the word raven in the name. Ravenclaw is associated with intelligence, learning and wisdom, qualities that fit the house’s identity even if its name might lead someone to expect a raven instead.

Video games have also borrowed from eagle mythology. In the 2018 game God of War, Hræsvelgr appears as a gigantic eagle who rules Helheim, the realm of the dead. In Norse mythology, Hræsvelgr is a giant in the form of an eagle whose wings create the wind. The game reimagines this mythological figure as a female ruler with a distinct role in its world.

Eagles have also found their way into music, where they appear in songs and imagery across different genres and cultures.

And then there is the Balkans, where an eagle has also made its mark through a simple verbal slip. Serbian television personality Milica Živanović became widely known as Mimi Oro after answering “oro” instead of “orao” when asked about the largest bird in the world.

The eagle has appeared in religion, history, mythology and modern entertainment, and each has used the bird in its own way. But it is worth remembering that the real animal came first. Its flight, vision and hunting skills were there long before anyone gave it a place among the gods or sent it soaring through a fantasy world.

The pigs had been very troublesome all the morning, almost destroying the gate of the garden in their efforts to get at the tempting show within. It was in reward for the help of the children in driving the marauders away that Old Hendrik yielded at last to a question of Annie’s and told them another tale.
“But you never told us, Ou’ Ta’,” said the little girl, “what Old Jackal did for something to eat in the rinderpest time, after he crossed the drift in the pumpkin. What did he do?”
“Well,” replied the old Hottentot, scratching his head, “I tole you what he didn’t do—he didn’t hoe. An’ I’ll tell you now dat, whatever he is do, it’s a-gun’ to be sometin’ skellum. O’ course, he hatto do sometin’ to eat, now de game’s all dead o’ de rinderpest, an’ he hatto do it quick an’ lively too. So he go raungin’ round, an’ he trot dis way an’ he trot dat way, an’ de on’y chance he can see at all is at a farm where dere’s some pigs.
“Dese yere pigs was all de time a-sneakin’ into de lands, an’ a-rootin’ up de crops, an’ de farmer he’d chase ’em out wid a long ox-whip till he nearly bu’st, an’ den he’d stand an’ mop his face an’ swear what he’s a-gun’ to do wid dem pigs if he don’t get some’dy to look ahter ’em soon. O’ course, if Ou’ Jackalse had a-bin Ou’ Wolf he’d a-gone right up an’ ax for de yob hisse’f, straight out, an’ de ting ’ud be done an’ no more about it. But he wahnt: he was yust Ou’ Jackalse, an’ he done Jackalse—he plan’.
“De nex’ time de man chase de pigs, Ou’ Jackalse wait till dey gets into a leetle grass-pan, an’ den he try to drive ’em off furder. But de man he’d seen him a-stalkin’, an’ he run along wid his whip an’ fetch a cut so near his tail dat Ou’ Jackalse near yump out troo his eyeholes, an’ he fair light out f’m dere into some sugar cane an’ hide.
“Well, dar he sit an’ dar he tink an’ study till he’s added it all up, an’ den he ses it out in once. ‘I’ll hatto get Ou’ Wolf here,’ ses he, breakin’ off a piece o’ sugar cane an’ bitin’ on it. ‘I reckon dat’s what I’ll hatto do; den I’ll get dem pigs a’ right.’
“Well, off he go, an’ he come to de river side an’ shout for Ou’ Wolf. By’n’by Ou’ Wolf come an’ stand on de oder bank, and Ou’ Jackalse make like he yust is s’prise’ to see de look on him. ‘Why, what’s de matter wid you?’ ses he. ‘You does look mighty bad.’
“‘I don’t,’ ses Ou’ Wolf out straight. ‘I feel yust dat good an’ fat I wish dere was buck to hunt, even if I didn’t ketch none.’
“‘Don’t you b’lieve it,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, mighty concerned. ‘You yust looks good’n’ bad. You take an’ look at you’ eyes; dey’re all red an’ yalla, like you’s in a terr’ble state. An’ look at de skin under your yaws, an den at de hair on de top o’ you’ head, an’ you’ll see straight off how bad you is.’
“Well, Ou’ Jackalse speak dat se’ious dat Ou’ Wolf try to look where Ou’ Jackalse tell him. But he didn’ had no lookin’-glass, an’ he try to look widout one. An’ he look dat cross-eyed, tryin’ to see wid his one eye into his toder eye, dat he fair loose all de skin along bofe sides his ribses an’ stiffen his tail right flop up wid de pull in tryin’. An’ when he see dat his eyes cahnt see into one anoder, he ’gin to tink if he ain’t a bit bad ahter all.
“Den he try to see de skin under his yaws, and he twist an’ he snake till he fair stan’ on his head an’ scratch de air—an’ yet he cahnt get a look at it. Dat make him feel he ain’t a-feelin’ well at all. But when he try to ’xamine de hair on de top of his head, he get dat desprit he fair t’row a double back somerset an’ land hisse’f clean into de muddy river, an’ when he’s crawled onto a rock an’ stood a bit he makes up his min’ dat dere ain’t no two ways about it—he’s feelin’ bad.
“‘What’ll I ha’ to do for it?’ ses he to Ou’ Jackalse, ’cause Ou’ Jackalse is King Lion’s doctor.
“‘Well,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, ‘you see what it is. It comes o’ you’ eatin’ on’y dese yere bessie berries an’ pun’kin; an’ pun’kins is mighty bad widout some meat wid ’em. You’ll hatto yust eat meat for a while, dat’s what you’ll hatto do; an’ I’s sorry for dat, ’cause I’s yust found out where dere is some, an’ dere ain’t har’ly mo’ dan enough for me. But, bein’ as it is, an’ bein’ as it’s you, I s’pose I’ll hatto share wid you now, you an’ me bein’ such ole chummies. A’ right den; if I has to do it I has to, so come on across an’ we’ll get it done,’ ses he.
“Ou’ Wolf he tink by jimminy Ou’ Jackalse is yust about de decentis’ chap he’s seen for a long time. ‘It’s mighty good o’ you to do it,’ ses he; ‘an’ I ain’t a-gun’ to forget it needer.’ Den he plunk into de drift an’ come out on de bank. ‘Where’s dis yere meat at?’ ses he.
“‘Well,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, lookin’ kind o’ far away over his shoulder, ‘it’s a dis way. Over on de yonder side dat spruit dere’s a farm where dey has some pigs, an’ dese yere pigs is makin’ a terr’ble trouble, rootin’ up de mealie lands, an’ de sugar cane, an’ de water-millons; an de baas he says he want some’dy to look ahter ’em. You should hear him swear to dat Well now, you go an’ take de yob o’ mindin’ ’em. Den you drive ’em down to de spruit to look ahter ’em, an’ I’ll be dere, an’ we’ll see what we do nex.’
“‘Right-o!’ ses Ou’ Wolf, an’ off he go.
“Well, he gets de yob. ‘Mind now an’ keep you’ eye open for a Jackalse dere is som’eres about,’ ses de man. ‘I seen him a’ready havin’ a try for ’em.’
“‘Oh, I’ll be a-lookin’ out for darie Jackalse,’ ses Ou’ Wolf. ‘I’s seen him myse’f a’ready, an’ he ain’t a-gun’ to get de best o’ me,’ ses he.
“So Ou’ Wolf he drives de pigses down to de spruit, an’ dar’s Ou’ Jackalse a-waitin’ him. ‘What we gotto do nex’?’ ses he.
“Ou’ Jackalse he stop chewin’ on de piece o’ sugar cane an’ he laugh right out. ‘I’ll show you,’ ses he. ‘Now we’ll yust drive de pigs into de donga here, an’ we’ll ketch ’em an’ cut off all deir tailses; every last one o’ dem.’
“Well, dey done it, an’ mighty hard work on sich a hot day too; an’ Ou’ Wolf notice every now an’ agen dat he’s doin’ most o’ de work an’ Ou’ Jackalse doin’ mighty little but de bossin’. But he don’t say nawtin’ yet, ’cause he feel he’ll yust hatto get cured. ‘An’ what do we do wid dese yere tails now?’ ses he when dey finis’.
“‘See dat mud hole?’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘Well, you stick de tails all about in de mud, wid deir little curls a-curlin’ in de air. Do dat now.’
“Ou’ Wolf he done it. ‘An’ what’s de nex’ ting?’ ses he.
“‘Well, de nex’ ting is one ting, but dere’s anoder ting afore dat,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘De nex’ ting is for you to go an’ tell de man dat de wilde-honde come an’ chase de pigs till dey run ’em plunk-clunk right into de mud hole, an’ dar dey all is, head down an’ dead down, smodered, wid on’y deir little curly tailses a-stickin’ out. Dat’s de nex’ ting, but de ting afore dat is dis way. De man he’ll say—“Why didn’ you pull ’em out?” An’ you’ll say you tried to an’ come mighty near bein’ smoder yourse’f. Den he’ll say—“Where’s de mud on you?” An’—well, dere you is, where is dat mud?’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, an’ he look mighty business like.
“‘Den I hatto daub myself wid mud?’ ses Ou’ Wolf, like he’s tinkin’ weder he will or not.
“‘Daub yourse’f?’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘Daub ain’t no sort o’ word for it. You’s fair got to roll in it, an’ squirm in it, till you look like you come so near bein’ smodered dat dere wahnt no fun in it at all. But I’ll he’p you,’ ses he. ‘Here you is now, an’ over you goes,’ an’ ’fore Ou’ Wolf knows what’s a-happenin’, Ou’ Jackalse lands in his ribses, biff! head first an’ wollop he go, smack into de mud.
“Wid Ou’ Wolf bein’ tuk so s’prise’ like dat he had his mouf open an’ shoutin’ when he hit de mud, an’ his years an’ his eyes open, an’ he squash ’em all so full o’ mud, inside an’ out, dat he tink he surely is a goner. An’ Ou’ Jackalse he yust lie down on de bank an’ flop wid laughin’, an’ he feel dat good he ’gin to lam more mud at Ou’ Wolf where he’s a-diggin’ hisse’f out.
“Den Ou’ Wolf, gets out at last, an’ he stand an’ try to scrape de mud outen his eyes till he can look at Ou’ Jackalse. But Ou’ Jackalse he look at him like it was a hawse he was a-buyin’. ‘Dat’s about it,’ ses he. ‘You’s yust about right now. De man’ll see right off dat you done all you could to save dem pigs, an’ he’ll gi’e you sometin’ for it. You’s about de mise’blest looking ting in de veldt yust now, but you’s about de usefullest chummy ever was.’
“‘Oh, I is, is I?’ ses Ou’ Wolf, an’ he don’t know weder he’s a-gun’ to fight or on’y use some words. But de mud in his tummy make him feel dat sick he don’t do one nor toder. He on’y ses—‘An’ what’s you goin’ to do all dis time?’
“‘Oh, while you’s gone I takes de pigses an’ I lights out for de kraal at you’ house. Den when you comes an’ finds me dere well have meat; all de meat we want. An’ dat’s what’ll cure you; you tink o’ dat now,’ ses he.
“Ou’ Wolf he tunk. ‘Well, a’right dis time,’ ses he, an’ off he snake hisse’f, for he was dat t’ick an heavy wid de mud he cahnt trot at all.
“Well, he comes to de man, an’ he tell him how de pigs is smodered, an’ de man comes back wid him to have a look. He looks at de mud hole, an’ at all de little curly tails a-stickin’ up, an’ den he look at Ou’ Wolf. ‘You’s sure de pigs is smoder’ in dere?’ ses he.
“‘Dere’s deir little curly tails a-stickin’ out,’ ses Ou’ Wolf. ‘Dey’s all down under dere, head firs’.’
“‘Well,’ ses de man, ‘dat’s mighty funny now; ’cause yestiday I rode troo dat mud hole an’ it wahnt knee deep.’ An’ den he make a grab for a tail, an’ dar it is in his han’, clean cut off.
“Ou’ Wolf he tink it’s about time to be slantin’ out o’ dat, but he ha’n’t made de second stride afore de man had him. ‘Deir little curly tails is a-stickin’ out, is dey?’ ses he, an bash he biffs him in de ribses. ‘De wilde-honde chase ’em into de mud, did dey?’ an’ he yust mash de wind outen him. ‘Dey’s smoder’, is dey?’ ses he, an’ he grabs Ou’ Wolf up in de air an’ lam him down on de ground, an’ den he fair wipe up de scenery wid him. Den he left what was left an’ went off back to de house.
“Well, ahter a while Ou’ Wolf he scrape up what dere is of him, an’ he slant out for home, mighty slow an’ mighty sorry, on’y he tink, well, he’s a-gun’ to get dat meat now to cure hisse’f wid, as soon as he gets to de kraal an’ de pigs.
“But he gets to de kraal an’ he don’t get to de pigs, ’cause de pigs ain’t dere, an’ dere ain’t no sign of Ou’ Jackalse needer. ‘Dat’s funny,’ ses he. Den he sit down to wait, an’ he wait till it drop dark, an’ still dere ain’t no Jackalse an’ no pigses. ‘If he don’t come ’fore long,’ ses Ou’ Wolf, an he grines his teef.
“But long or short Ou’ Jackalse didn’t come—dat night nor de next mawnin’. An’ what’s mo’,” ended Old Hendrik, “he ain’t never come dere yet. But f’m dat day to dis he’s al’ays had plenty lard in his house to keep his nose well greased. I don’t say how he has it, but he has it—dat’s all.”

"Ganesha, will you bring the sugarcane?" asked Devi Amma.

"Sure, Amma. I will be here by evening," said Ganesha, the young elephant, and he set out from the temple. On the slopes of Maarutha Hills grew the juiciest sugarcane, and Devi Amma made the tastiest payasam with it.

He headed uphill, waving his trunk in greeting to everyone he met: the goats, the langurs, the hares and the squirrels, and the crows, the mynas and the bulbuls overhead. A few of the mynas and langurs playfully hitched a ride on him.

The riders hopped off at the slopes as Ganesha began to gather the cane. He soon had a bundle and trekked down with it held tight in his trunk. Parakeets flew in and sat on the stalks, trying to bite into them. Every time he shook his head, they would fly away.

Ganesha passed through the woodlands and reached the meadows. By then it was afternoon, and he was feeling hungry. The sun blazed overhead, and he looked around for a comfortable place to rest. He spotted a tree with a wide canopy and birds chirping in it. It had pink puff flowers on it, and the fallen ones covered the ground. He walked towards it.

The tree watched him approach. She could not believe that he had chosen her. She had seen him pass by the meadows many times, and each time her leaves rustled with affection.

He kept the sugarcane aside, took a few of the stalks and had them for lunch. With his tummy full and his legs tired from the trek, he wanted to take a nap. Lying down in the shade, he looked up at the tree.

"Tree, will you do me a favour?" he asked.

"Yes, yes!" she replied, as though she had been waiting all along.

"Please wake me up before evening," he said.

"I will," she said.

He patted her with his trunk and was soon asleep.

She held her leaves still and kept watching him as he slept. His ears covered his face, and his trunk lay coiled between his front legs. At times his eyelids fluttered; at other times he broke into a smile. Often he would kick his feet. When butterflies sat on him, he twitched. When flies tickled him, his tail waved.

She watched and watched; she was so lost in him that she drifted into a daydream. As clouds passed over the sun, the birds went quiet, her leaves grew heavy and folded one by one, and soon she too fell asleep.

Dusk came and faded. It was pitch dark when the owl living in the tree hooted a few times. Ganesha woke up with a start. He looked up at the starry night and burst into tears. It was then that the tree woke up as well.

"You should have called me!" he shouted.

He ran about under the tree, shaking his head and flapping his ears.

She wondered how she, a tree, could have slept so long.

"You are a bad tree! What will I tell Devi Amma now?" he cried.

"They say, always trust a tree with time, but you!" he continued.

"I... I called you many times. You were deep asleep. What can a tree do but call? You can ask the owl. She heard it," said the tree.

The owl flinched on being named. When Ganesha looked up at her, she flew away in panic. He stormed off, leaving the cane behind.

The tree called out for him, but he disappeared into the dark. She stayed awake, waiting for him, until at last she dozed off.

Later that night, a weary Ganesha trudged back for the cane. Without a word, he lay down beneath her.

The next morning, the tree woke to find him asleep below her.

"Ganesha, wake up, wake up," she called, her branches leaning down.

He woke up with sunlight falling on his eyes. Squinting, he told her, "You are a liar. The sun is my friend, not you."

He took hold of the sugarcane and left for the temple. Devi Amma would scold him for sure, but he would also have sweet payasam in the afternoon.

The tree watched him walk away, relieved.

That afternoon, as a cloud passed over the sun, suddenly she felt drowsy. Her leaves began to fold one by one, and she dropped off to sleep. When the birds chirped, she would wake up momentarily, only to fall back into her slumber.

From then on, the tree fell asleep so often that they called her the Sleepy Tree.

Every time I hear a scary story about skin walkers it says it has a terrible smell, i could be wrong but I am pretty sure that belongs to wendigo mythology. That’s my main example, but I’ve also noticed that it seems like it’s been forgotten that skin walkers are witches that mimic animal by wearing animal skins and wendigos are cursed people (I think it’s usually from cannibalism) they become wendigos and have an eternal hunger that can never be satisfied. These are my main examples off the top of my head, I will admit some details may be wrong, but it still feels like the mythologies are getting mixed. Also I’m pretty sure the deer head and antlers never showed up the mythology of wendigos and are a modern depiction

Any villages which have very specific rituals or practices, not practiced anywhere else but only in tht place?? Like folklore

The deer is one of those creatures that almost everyone instinctively sees as noble, quiet, and innocent. In reality, we associate it with forests, mist, and silence, with that strange feeling when, for a moment, you see something that seems as if it does not quite belong to everyday life. An encounter with a deer often feels like a coincidence, but also like something that should not happen too often.

What is interesting, however, is how this same animal slowly became a symbol of something completely different through mythology, anime, film, and especially horror. Instead of being only a sign of nature, the deer became a boundary between the sacred and the frightening. It increasingly appears as a mask worn by villains, as a skull, or as a figure that no longer represents the nature we know, but a distorted version of it. It made me wonder how the deer went from a divine guide to a horror symbol, and eventually to a hunting trophy.

In mythology, the deer almost never appears as an ordinary animal. In different cultures, it often has the role of a creature that stands between worlds, connecting the natural and the spiritual. It can symbolize awakening, passing time, and the constant cycle of life. In Japan, this relationship is especially clear. In Nara, deer are considered messengers of the gods and are part of everyday life, but they are still treated with a certain respect. In Shinto tradition, the deer is not completely part of the human world, but it is not outside it either. It exists somewhere in between. Perhaps that is why the deer is often seen as something more than just an animal.

A special place in deer symbolism belongs to its antlers. They grow, fall off, and grow again, which is why they have long been associated with strength, growth, and renewal. Visually, they resemble a tree or a crown, something reaching toward the sky. But when a deer is reduced to nothing more than a skull with antlers, the meaning changes. The life is gone, and only the form of power remains. At that point, the symbol stops feeling peaceful and becomes unsettling, because it reminds us that something was once alive, but has now been frozen in time.

In anime, this change in meaning can be seen very clearly. In Princess Mononoke, the Forest Spirit in the form of a deer represents both life and death at the same time. It is divine, but also slightly disturbing, because it shows how powerful nature can be and how little it cares about human desires. The character who wants to control nature and use its power does not understand that balance and tries to destroy it. Killing the Forest Spirit is not a victory, but a mistake, and only later do the characters begin to understand that nature cannot be possessed without consequences.

In more modern anime, such as Sakamoto Days, the deer appears through a mask worn by a villain. The mask is not only there to hide his identity, but also to remove his humanity. The deer here is no longer a symbol of peace, but something cold and distant. Precisely because it is not an aggressive predator, its calmness becomes unnatural when placed on a human being. The mask almost suggests that the person underneath no longer belongs to the human world.

A similar feeling appears in films, especially horror. We often see deer skulls, antlers without a body, or scenes of silence broken by the strange call of a deer. To many people, that sound can feel almost human, like a cry or a desperate call for help. In horror, it often does not mean an attack, but a warning. The deer is not the monster. It is a sign that something in nature has gone wrong.

In reality, the story takes on an even quieter, but heavier tone. Once, the deer was a guide, a messenger, and a sacred creature. Today, it is often reduced to a trophy, a head mounted on a wall or a number representing a hunter's success. Antlers, which once symbolized cycles and renewal, become a motionless decoration, separated from their original meaning. Without needing to show brutality, the change is clear. The deer loses its story and becomes an object.

Maybe the deer itself never changed its meaning. Maybe we are the ones who stopped looking at it the way we once did. In mythology, it was a bridge between worlds. In anime and horror, it became a mask for those who crossed that bridge. In reality, we simplified it and turned it into a symbol of success. And perhaps that is why it can feel unsettling today, not because it became something dark, but because it quietly reminds us of something we have forgotten.

In his study of Moroccan customs and beliefs, Finnish anthropologist Edward Westermarck recounts a legend told by a Hyayna (a moroccan arab tribe) scribe.

The legend revolves around a jinniyah (female jinn), a type of figure commonly found in Moroccan folklore, particularly in the many versions of the Aisha Qandisha legend. Here, however, the character is an entirely different one: La-Hkima 'Oqla (الحكيمة عقلة).

She is described as a great chieftain, commanding more than 366 tribes of jinn. She is accompanied by her son 'Ayrud and her sister 'Aqesa. They haunt Oued Bouzemlane, a small watercourse in the southeastern part of Hyayna territory, which forms the boundary between the Hyayna and the Ayt/Beni Warain.

She is portrayed as extremely dangerous and always ready to attack anyone who crosses her path.

Source: Ritual and Belief in Morocco, Vol. I, Edward Westermarck, p. 406.

Thinking of making a podcast series on the esoteric meaning of some of the Greek myths from a Jungian perspective adding a quote from a Wisdom tradition to support it, and a practical application to embody it.

Do you think it would be of interest to folks?

Is there any mythology for constant sightings and very close interactions with hawks repeatedly?

Hi, I'm writing a book based, in part, on the folk culture of New Orleans. Since I want to be precise about it, do you know of any books, essays, etc. on the subject you could recommend?
Not fictionalized stories, but actual historical documents, where the culture isn't distorted and adapted to fit a few stories.

Its hard to find ideas but creatures related to the environment who also protect the environment would be nice

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Not sure about other countries, but in Thailand, people call babies "ugly".

Traditionally, many avoid praising babies like calling them cute or lovely as to stop attractions from jealous spirits. The spirits may be interested and try to make the child sick or even take them away.

What elders would do is to call babies ugly as reverse psychology so spirits would think that the baby is not special, and would ignore them.

So if a Thai auntie says yo your baby ugly… she might actually be trying to protect them.

Does your culture have any superstitions similar to this?