Where Does Your Luck Live?
On Generosity
If the rivers of the world were spun of pure silver, the leaves on the trees pure gold, Finn would have given them all away.
Irish saying about the warrior-bard Finn MacColl
Generosity is a big thing in a folk tale. The second you come across a miser, a hoarder, someone small in their actions, you know you aren’t in the presence of the good or the heroic. They can be a high falutin’ Czar or Empress but we sense they are impoverished somewhere essential. They may have the important title but have no authentic sovereignty. In fairy tales – again and again – it is the simpler, humbler third brother or sister who succeeds in their quest by taking the advice of the beggar or giving their last piece of bread away. The older siblings rarely lean down from their horse, and are often swift to betrayal. It is frequently the most Christ-like character within a tale that finally achieves what seemed impossible to the others. They locate the firebird, journey to the edge of the world, complete a night sea voyage only to forgive the person they set out to kill. Transformation often comes with mercy, not with might.
As I travelled round Dartmoor teaching last week I thought about generosity from time to time. People were kind and said I was being generous with my time and energy, playing five evenings when it would be possible to get the combined amount of folks in one night in a bigger venue. Well, generous possibly, but selfless? No.
Because there’s at least two considerable paybacks. One is five times the amount of time to wrangle and dream with the stories’ content. I can’t do this in the study in anything like the same way. Secondly, five times the amount of opportunity to make contact with people who generally are fed by what you’re doing. These are not inconsiderable rewards. I’m going to be bushed for a few days after, and even staying local there are bumps along the way, and that’s as far as I can allow that I’m being ‘generous’ as such. I could have saved some wear and tear and done it in one night - that’s about it re: generosity. But stories blossom and change and deepen when told night after night, certain ideas and wayward philosophies only surface when I am deep in public improvisation. Anyone who watches me regularly would have seen this happen in real time. I am clearly benefitting.
Mid-storifying: with the oft mentioned Widecombe church in the photo.
I’m not, and have never been, selfless, with the exception of parenting. But I’ve also been naively generous on occasion, and generous to the wrong people. Generosity can also get you in a lot of trouble. Consider the story of Pwyll and Rhiannon, from The Mabinogi. The following glimpse is from a feast where the two are getting engaged.