As some of you are aware, I was on vacation this week. I visited two places; the Isle of Man (where one of my best friends lives) and Manchester (where I used to live and where many of my friends still live). I did the usual stuff. Hanging out, sight seeing…and shopping.
Shopping for books specifically. I bought these two books in the gift shop attached to the Manx Museum in the IOM’s capital, Douglas.
Now, my favorite genre is paranormal romance (if that fact had somehow slipped by you 😉 ) and one of my favorite past times is reading about the folklore and myths that birthed the fantastical creatures and beings that appear in some of my best-loved books.
The Isle of Man, though small, is steeped in myths and legends. Its rolling hills and Viking ruins set the scene for many folklore tales and spooky stories. I realized, though, that I couldn’t possibly become well versed in them over the course of four days so I decided to buy these books and get myself up to speed in readiness for my next visit!
So my question to you is…
…What folklore tales and spooky stories does your country/hometown play host to?
I’ll get the ball rolling and start by sharing the tale of the Lincoln Imp, my hometown’s official mascot. Lemme introduce you…
This little fella can be found in Lincoln Cathedral, nestled between two archways and surrounded by a bunch of far prettier stone carvings.
Legend tells us that ol’ Satan sent two of his little imps to wreak havoc at the Cathedral, which was then newly built. However, the imps hadn’t anticipated a bunch of angels deciding to have an impromptu karaoke sesh in the aptly named Angels’ Choir.
One of the imps wisely opted out of the mischief and destruction, choosing instead to remain outside. However, our horned, grinning mascot decided a showdown with a few ethereal beings was preferable over returning to the bowels of Hell with orders disobeyed.
One angel, who I like to imagine was just reaching the crescendo of Bohemian Rhapsody, saw the imp flitting about in the rafters of the cathedral and, in a fit of rage (Bohemian Rhapsody is difficult as it is without distractions), struck him down with a blast of petrifying power, encasing him in stone and immortalizing his cheeky, infectious grin forevermore.
So there we have it. That’s my hometown’s most famous legend.
Tell me yours in the comments below!