Fairies, Folklore and Forteana
SIMON YOUNG FILES A NEW REPORT FROM THE INTERFACE OF STRANGE PHENOMENA AND FOLK BELIEF
FOLKLORE MULTIPLIED
I’m writing this in early April,and Covid-19 has spread its black wings over much of the world. As of this morning over 50,000 deaths have been recorded: though, given that Iran, Russia and particularly China are thought to have falsified their death figures, the real number is probably double that. You, dear reader, are living, of course, in the future. By the time you look at these numbers later in April or even in early May, close to a fifth or a quarter of a million will have died. These deaths and the unprecedented lockdown in so many countries have created a unique environment in which urban legends have multiplied. The combination of anxiety and spare-time are to folklore what a toilet bowl in a warm bleachless house is to bacteria: the perfect breeding ground. There follows a sample of the narratives passing from mouth to mouth and from WhatsApp account to WhatsApp account: worthy successors, in their way, to such classics as the vanishing hitch-hiker and the naked birthday party.
There are, for instance, the yarns about patient zero who first brought the illness to a given country, town or region. In northern Italy, an asymptomatic Pakistani migrant delivering Chinese food was fingered by social media. There are stories about those who are ill: for instance, in some versions
(Italy again), special signs or marks of paint have been placed outside the houses of the infected.
There was the announcement in a neighbourhood in the UK that money carried the virus and that notes and coins should be left in an envelope on the doorstep, with bank details so the money could be refunded electronically by the government. The crook who had created the announcement collected all the envelopes and disappeared into the night.
My favourite narrative to date seems to have originated in Spain before the lockdown was imposed there. A prostitute is infected and a doctor called. The doctor, recognising the symptoms of coronavirus, quarantines the brothel in which his patient is plying her trade along with everyone inside. The result: most of the city council, including the mayor, find themselves locked in a house of ill repute for 30 days.
I have been struck in collecting these new legends by how many of them are publicised (and created?) by state actors. For instance, the Pakistani patient zero story had a basis in a real event, but was then manipulated into legendary material by a pro-Kremlin news agency. We are seeing not just the multiplication of folklore before our eyes, but also its weaponisation.
Simon Young’s new book Magical Folk: British and Irish Fairies is out now from Gibson Square.
MOST OF THE CITY COUNCIL FIND THEMSELVES LOCKED IN A HOUSE OF ILL REPUTE FOR 30 DAYS