Enya and Mary

I've received a letter from a Revd T.R.Ellis of North Wales. She writes:

Dear Ms Vorderman

I note that you spent the festival of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary celebrating instead that other famous icon of the Irish, Enya.  How do you propose to explain yourself on the last day, heretic?

Love to Hnaef. We studied together. Hope his Imitation is coming along.

Kiss, kiss

T.R. Ellis (Revd Dr Mrs)

Well, Tracey. What can I say? Not to God, but to the Great British Public - a famously less forgiving judge. I mean, just look at Red or Black.

The Nativity of the BVM is a nuanced and intriguing festival. Ann holds in her hands this child who will one day hold the Universe. This precious bundle who, in just a few short years, will receive the terrifying news that God is with her and that she is blessed among women. A choice - for I am sure it was a choice - is before her. To choose the path that leads to potential shame, to pain, possibly to divorce and estrangement and ultimately, definitely, to her own form of passion that day at Golgotha - or what? To run from the will of God, to play happy families with Joseph, to bear many children - which of these two will she choose? How can so tiny a spark already such a world of potential? And what do we bring into the world - what potential, what choices make us in our own way God-bearers: those carry God into our own places? There among the pain and the joy and the shadow of death all things are played out - albeit unknowingly except for One.

And faced with that, I thought it might be safer to light a tea light and play some nice Irish New Age music. Beaker People don't like hard theology and tough decisions. They make them fall over.

Orinoco Flow

Not called "Sail away" at all. "Orinoco Flo" was Enya's nickname as a child because she looked like a Womble...

Lostlorien

Most confusing. I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls. But when I woke up, I realised I'd just fallen asleep in Central Milton Keynes shopping centre again. That security guard grips your elbow very hard as he leads you out into Silbury Boulevard and tells you not to come back.

Elf and Safety

An amazing keynote speech from Aelfride on "The use of Quenyan dialect in New Age Electronic Music". Amazing inasmuch as I've never sat through an entire speech in Elvish before, of any variety. It sounded a bit like Welsh to me, although everyone else swore it was Finnish.

The thrust of Aelfride's argument was a little hard to follow. As in was in Quenya. But I'm sure it was something about elves. And Enya. After all, "Quenya" is a contraction of "Queen Enya". And it did sound lovely. Like water flowing over a waterfall, while a drunken estate agent in a barrel crashes onto the rocks below as a "dare". It's like I always say - if a thing's worth saying, it sounds a lot better in a foreign language. Preferably an invented one.

Enya Day

Enya Day comes when the nights are noticeably drawing in.  And once again you can feel the primeval dread of the dark looming back upon the lands of the North and West. Fenris Wolf stirs, Cu Chulain saddles up his fearful horse, and Herne the Hunter rides around Husborne Crawley until, forgetting that the world has turned many times since his day, he smashes straight into the Abbey wall down on Woburn road.
And so we light up the fire, huddle round, tell strange stories of evacuees and people who live in marble halls, the Celts and Robin Hood and Old Black Shuck. Light a tea light and listen to Enya and prepare for the first bonfires of the Autumn.

Enya Eve

Just what is it about Enya that we like so much?

I guess it's the complex mosaic of happy feelings she generates. Singing in languages we don't understand is always a big plus. Frankly, she could be singing the contents of a shopping list and it would sound spiritual if it were in Gaelic.

But when a thousand multi-tracked Enyas sing as a giant Enya choir, in a celebration of Enyaism, it just makes us feel so serene. What else could we want? It's the perfect Beaker religious moment - a one-ness with a spiritual something. You feel uplifted. You feel close to nature - close to the earth - close to the divine. And the good news is, you feel no responsibility to change anything in the world. You just feel better about yourself. All it needs is a scented tea light to make you feel perfect.