Sheela-Na-Gigs: 'The One That Got Away'
By SHARON GREER
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Sheela-Na-Gigs have been a tradition of Celtic art from around the Third Century B.C., through the early Christian period until later medieval times.
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The mystery of the function and purpose of Sheela-Na-Gigs remains an enigma even today.
Sheela-Na-Gigs are figurative stone carvings of naked females displaying their vulvas that were a form of religious ornament found on churches and castles throughout Ireland during the medieval period.
Although Sheelas are also found in Scotland, England and Wales, the majority are still located in Ireland to this day.
For some time the world of scholars has been discussing why these carvings were placed in such prominent positions, in some cases placed over the main doorway, on religious buildings.
Although many theories have been proposed about their existence, there is really not one
hypothesis that can explain such a wide diversity of carvings.
Sheela-Na-Gigs have been a tradition of Celtic art from around the Third Century B.C., through the early Christian period until later medieval times.
Some of the most prominent theories suggested by archaeologists and historians have ranged from fertility (birthing), apotropaic (warding off evil), to life, death and regeneration symbols.
Some view them as ancient goddesses, some as vestiges of a pagan cult, whatever their exact meaning, they are certainly one of the most powerful, profound and fascinating sacred objects in the history of humankind.
On my recent trip to Ireland, my sister found a brochure in the gift shop of the Skibbereen
Heritage Famine Centre in Co. Cork, and we began a feminine quest to locate as many Sheela-Na-Gigs we possibly could.
This journey proved more difficult and exciting than we had imagined. We did locate several of them. The Kilsarkan Sheela in Co. Kerry took us three hours to locate in the pouring rain, but we were determined to explore and discover as much territory as possible.
We never for a moment thought that our journey would ever take us on precarious ground but that's what happens when we travel, we're always more open to adventure.
One day we were travelling through Co. Sligo looking for a town called Castlebaldwin. When we arrived, we asked a young local man for assistance and he directed us to his publican father who in typical Irish fashion gave us "elaborate" directions to our destination of Behy Castle.
Actually only two walls of the castle remain standing and these remains are situated on private farm land. The unusual Sheela (unusual because it is painted red) had been re-erected on a wall inside one of the outhouses.
As we travelled down the road searching for the remains of the castle, we finally spotted it sitting eerily in the middle of some farm fields. We backed up looking for a road that would lead us to Behy Castle.
Unfortunately for us, being city folk, we failed to notice a house situated close to the main road, but partially hidden from our view. We merrily went up the dirt road to be met by crumbling, dilapidated farm buildings, seemingly neglected.
Some of the buildings were jammed with wood parts and junk materials. The sheep grazing in the field looked worse for wear, a tiny kitten whose eyes were crusted and nearly closed came scampering over to greet us.
I don't know where we got the courage to get out of the car because suddenly both my sister and I became uneasy about the creepiness of the place. We called out to see if anyone was about but there was no response. Despite our misgivings, we began to look for the Sheela.
After a little while of hunting with no luck, I ended up going around and behind the farm buildings to get a closer look at the remains of the castle. Because the boggy land was too wet for me, I was back there no more than 10 minutes to take a couple of photos.
When I came back around, my sister had worked herself in to a lather. She had been calling my name at the top of her lungs for almost the whole time I was behind the buildings and I never heard a sound. It was hard to understand because by the way we were both situated, I was only 20 or 30 feet from her the whole time.
Naturally, we were completely spooked at this point and more or less went tearing out of there and back down the road. As we approached the end of it, I can only describe what I saw as some kind of "creature" partially blocking our way.
A toothless man of about 77 to 80 years of age, dressed in typical farm clothes that had seen better days, froze us in our tracks. His palpable rage could be felt as it penetrated even the confines of the rental car.
We had trespassed on his property and we were in trouble. I was all for gunning it out of there but my sister insisted on slowing and rolling the window down. But fear gripped her so severely that she couldn't speak, so with whatever Irish ethnicity I possess, I launched into an elaborate spiel about being visiting anthropologists looking for the rare, red Sheela-Na-Gig. Instantly his anger subsided.
Whether it was due to my accent (we're always presumed to be Americans) or the stupidity of my response, he took mercy on us and only chastised us lightly in his croaking, high pitched voice. In fact, he insisted we return to the site and gave precise instructions on where the Sheela was located.
I'll never understand why we went back, but we did. Again our flesh crept as we approached the outhouse which contained the Sheela. It had a large stick wedged against the door with an open padlock dangling from it.
As we both stared at the closed door, my younger sister casually said, "Okay, open it" to which I responded, "You open it". She replied, "But I'm holding all my camera equipment" to which I replied, "I'll hold your bloody equipment for you."
We didn't argue, we turned on our heels and left, hoping the whole time we wouldn't run in to the odd man at the end of the road. Luckily, we didn't.
On our return to Dublin at the end of our trip we made a visit to the National Museum of Ireland.
The gift shop there carried three different books on Sheela-Na-Gigs. When my sister reached over to pick one out, a small gasp came out of her. She looked at me, rather pale, and said, "Look, it's the one that got away!"
In complete disbelief I found myself looking at the Behy Castle Sheela on the front cover of The Sheela-Na-Gigs of Ireland and Britain by Joanne McMahon and Jack Roberts. Without hesitation I bought the book with the hope of one day returning to Co. Sligo to actually view the elusive, red Sheela.
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