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A boy selkie who takes girlness off like a sealskin, an untameable kelpie, the warrior-wife of a princess, and a Loch Ness monster who is too busy having fun to worry about words like "girl" or "boy". This is the way the world is - with just a bit of Scottish myth and magic thrown in. Wain is a fully-illustrated collection of LGBT themed poetry aimed at teens (but suitable for all ages) based on retellings of Scottish folk tales. These poems immerse readers in an enriching, diverse and enchanting vision of contemporary life.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
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WAIN
LGBTREIMAGININGSOFSCOTTISHFOLKLORE
OTHERTITLESFROMTHEEMMAPRESS
POETRYANTHOLOGIES
Some Cannot Be Caught: The Emma Press Book of Beasts
In Transit: Poems of Travel
Second Place Rosette: Poems about Britain
Everything That Can Happen: Poems about the Future
BOOKSFORCHILDRENAGED 8+
The Book of Clouds, by Juris Kronbergs
Everyone’s the Smartest, by Contra
The Dog Who Found Sorrow, by Rūta Briede
The Head that Wears a Crown: Poems about Kings and Queens
The Girl Who Learned All the Languages Of The World, by Ieva Flamingo
POETRYPAMPHLETS
Pisanki, by Zosia Kuczyńska
Who Seemed Alive & Altogether Real, by Padraig Regan
Paisley, by Rakhshan Rizwan
Elastic Glue, by Kathy Pimlott
SHORTSTORIES
First fox, by Leanne Radojkovich
Postcard Stories, by Jan Carson
The Secret Box, by Daina Tabūna
Once Upon A Time In Birmingham, by Louise Palfreyman
POETRYANDARTSQUARES
Now You Can Look, by Julia Bird, illustrated by Anna Vaivare
for my daughter, Audrey
THE EMMA PRESS
First published in the UK in 2019 by the Emma Press
Wain was commissioned by LGBT Youth Scotland. The commission was funded by Creative Scotland.
Text © Rachel Plummer 2019Illustrations © Helene Boppert 2019
All rights reserved.
A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
Printed in Latvia by Jelgavas tipogrāfija on Munken Lynx Rough, 150 gsm
ISBN 978-1-910139-47-9
The Emma Press LtdRegistered in England and Wales, no. 08587072Website: theemmapress.comEmail: [email protected] Quarter, Birmingham, UK
Selkie
The Seven Big Women of Jura
No Man
Kelpie
Glaistig
Love Song for a Wulver
The Wulvers’ Daughter
Nicnevin, Queen of the Fairies
Blue Men of the Minch
February
The Story of Snow
Nimblemen
Beira
The Well at the World’s End
Brownie
Changeling
Changeling II
Ghillie Dhu
Finfolkaheem
Finman
Nessie
Nessa’s Song
Cat Sìth
The Bridge of One Hair
Crumple Toes and Shamble Shanks
The Deaf River
Beithir
Bride, Goddess of Spring
Green Lady
Johnny O’Braidislea
Gentle Annie
Stoor Worm
Mairead
WHO MADE THIS BOOK?
About the poet
About the illustrator
BONUS BITS
Interview with Rachel
Interview with Helene
Write your own poem!
Glossary of Scottish folklore
About the Emma Press
The secret me is a boy.
He takes girlness off like a sealskin:
something that never sat right on his shoulders.
The secret me is broad-shouldered;
the sea can’t contain him,
the land can’t anchor his waves
to its sand.
The secret me swims
with the big fish, brash, he swaggers
like a mermaid, bares teeth
like daggers, barks at the moon when it’s thin.
He’s whiskered, that boy. Thick-skinned.
Quick-finned, always turning tail.
He wears his own skin like a sail,
lets it carry him to where
salt swallows mouthfuls of air.
Let them find me there by the shore:
the girl-seal with a secret
boy inside. Rough-voiced. Black-eyed.
Washed bare
as the beach by the tide.
Big Woman One
has an eye like a gun
a face like a foot
and an armful of loot.
Big Woman Two
has a mouth full of boo
a grizzly bear grin
and a voice made of tin.
Big Woman Three
has a child on her knee,
she feeds the child stones
and old dragon bones.
Big Woman Four
has a snore like the roar
of a Scottish wildcat
when she goes for a nap.
Big Woman Five
will eat you alive
in one slobbery chew
so don’t let her catch you!
Big Woman Six
slinks about like a fox
with a coat full of mange
and a throat full of strange.
Big Woman Seven
sings like a sedge wren,
her songs spark and glisten
and all her wives listen.
No man may ride a kelpie.
The legends are very clear on this.
So when the black horse appeared by the loch
I wasn’t afraid.
Her mane drank the moonlight
like a black hole.
Her eyes were planets.
She wore no shoes
on her backwards hooves.
She danced like a secret princess
on the loch shore with its starry spotlights.
No man may ride a kelpie and live.
A man will find himself tangled
in her long hair.
A man will be dragged under
the water and drowned.
The kelpie will eat him.
I held no iron talisman but
I stood on the beach without fear.
She rose from the nightwater
like a spaceship.
Climb aboard, she seemed to say.
I see the woman inside you.
They said she wasn’t human.
They said she used to be a horse.
They said her hair was made of snakes.
They said she should eat less.
They said she should be nicer to strangers.
They said she should stick to one shape.
They said she was dangerous.
They said she was dangerous to children.
They said she was a danger to herself.
They said if you touch her you have to cut your fingers off.
They said if she speaks you’ll go mad.
They said if you look close, you’ll see she’s all wrong.
They found her beautiful.
They wanted to tame her.
They couldn’t.
