Jul 18, 2021
In this episode we will be looking at the history, folklore and
mythology surrounding spinning and weaving.
Hear about Valkyries weaving bloody tapestries, how the sun is
linked to spinning , why it is advisable to rest sometimes and what
terrible things may befall you if you don't.
Sources:
Christopher Dyer, 'Making a Living in the Middle Ages: The People
of Britain 850-1520' (2002).
D.L. Ashliman,
'Superstitions from Europe'
https://www.pitt.edu/~dash/superstition.html
Donald Haase, 'The
Greenwood Encyclopedia of Folktales and Fairy Tales: Q-Z'
(2008).
Freyalyn Close-Hainswoth, 'Spinning a Tale:
Spinning and Weaving in myths and Legends'
https://folklorethursday.com/folklife/spinning-a-tale/
Gunnvôr Silfrahárr, 'Women and Magic in the
Sagas: Seidr and Spa' http://www.vikinganswerlady.com/seidhr.shtml
Gunnvôr Silfrahárr, 'Valkyries, Wish Maidens
and Swan Maidens' http://www.vikinganswerlady.com/seidhr.shtml
Icy
Sedgwick, 'Spinning in Folklore: Impossible Bets and Crafting with
the Fates' https://www.icysedgwick.com/spinning-in-folklore/
John
Martin Crawford, 'The Kalevala: Rune VIII Maiden of the Rainbow'
https://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/kveng/kvrune08.htm
Lisa
Schnaidau, ' Botanical Folk Tales of Britain and Ireland'
(2018).
Marianna Vertsman,
'Kikimora, Domovoi, Baccoo, and Other Strange and Spooky
Creatures',
https://www.nypl.org/blog/2015/10/30/scary-creatures-world-folklore
Mark Norman, 'Telling the Bees and other
Customs: The Folkloer of Rural Crafts' (2020).
'Njal's Saga', trans. Magnus Magnusson and
Herman Pálsson (1960).
Ronesa Aveela, 'A
Study of Household Spirits of Eastern Europe' (2018).
Pohyola's fair and winsome daughter,
Glory
of the land and water,
Sat
upon the bow of heaven,
On
its highest arch resplendent,
In a
gown of richest fabric,
In a
gold and silver air-gown,
Weaving webs of golden texture,
Interlacing threads of silver;
Weaving with a golden shuttle,
With
a weaving-comb of silver;
Merrily flies the golden shuttle,
From
the maiden's nimble fingers,
Briskly swings the lathe in weaving,
Swiftly flies the comb of silver,
From
the sky-born maiden's fingers,
Weaving webs of wondrous beauty.
Hello, welcome to the History and Folklore podcast,
where we look at different folk beliefs through history and how
these beliefs shape people’s perceptions of nature. Today we’re
looking at spinning and weaving, why these crafts were important to
people in the past and how they are depicted in folklore and
mythology.
Spinning is one of the oldest crafts. Very early in
human history, as far back as ten thousand years ago, people
learned how to get fibre from plants and would twist it between
their fingers to strengthen it, creating string that could be used
for tools and weapons. The first items that were used to
facilitate this process were simple stones and sticks that were
used to wind the twine. At some point these were combined together
to make spindles, one of humanity's oldest tools and one that has
been found in nearly every culture across the world.
In
the neolithic period, as people started developing settled
communities, the methods of spinning and and working with fibre
also developed. Looms could be used to weave large pieces of fabric
that could be used for clothes, blankets and sails for boats. Sheep
began to be kept domestically on farms, and their fleece was used
to make wool.
The
fact that both of these skills became so widespread across the
globe at such an early point indicates how integral these skills
were to humanity. They enable us to make clothes to stay warm and
protected from the elements, make nets and traps for hunting, rope
and sails for ships, rope to pull heavy loads and string to fix
blades and handles together to make weapons and tools.
Despite its importance, spinning was considered to be a
low-skilled activity and, with a distaff, the stick used for
holding the unspun fibre, tucked into a belt or under the arm, a
spinner could produce yarn while doing other tasks. It takes a lot
of time to make enough yarn for your needs and there are medieval
images of rich and poor women spinning while sat chatting together,
while riding on horses, caring for children and feeding the
chickens, among other activities. It is apparent that at some point
in European history spinning came to be seen as a predominantly
female activity, unlike weaving which was considered to be more
skilled. Anthony Fitzherbert, in his book of husbandry, states that
it was not really possible to make a living from spinning, but that
‘it stoppeth the gap.’ Weaving, on the other hand, was a respected
and established industry as shown by the existence of weavers
guilds in larger towns by the twelfth century.
The
strong connection between women and the work of spinning is
probably most well known through the term ‘spinster’ to describe
older, unmarried women. This term often has negative connotations
and has historically been used as an insult.
The
association between women and spinning seems to have been strongly
entrenched by the late 1300s, with the English Lollard priest John
Ball stating in a sermin in 1381 ‘when Adam delved and Eve span,
who was then the gentleman?’, alluding to gendered work after the
loss of Eden, despite no mention of Eve spinning in the Bible. It
has been argued that while spinning was predominantly done by
women, it was probably not solely their domain, and it was likely
men working in jobs such as travelling traders or shepherds would
have been spinning to help meet the large demand for
yarn.
Unsurprisingly, as an important part of culture and
society, many superstitions, taboos and celebrations developed
around spinning and weaving. It was forbidden to spin or weave
during certain times of the year - the exact taboo days varied
across Europe, but they tended to be on particularly certain holy
or rest days, with the longest taboo on spinning being over the
twelve days of Yule. In Iceland it was expected that all spinning,
weaving and sewing chores were completed by the end of this year,
an expectation reflected in the tales of the Yule cat, who would
eat children who had not received a new piece of clothing for
Christmas - a sign that these jobs had remained
uncompleted.
In
England this period of rest over Christmas ended on the 7th
January, known as distaff day, when women picked up their spindles
to work again. Although according to a seventeenth century poem
this day was probably only slightly productive, as the men and
women would play pranks on each other to impede the work - the men
setting fire to the flax and the women throwing water over the men
in retribution, a sign that the return to work was not necessarily
an enthusiastic one.
In
many areas spinning during these taboo times was assumed to invite
the wrath of a deity. In Romania spinning and other domestic
activities were forbidden on Tuesdays, a semi-holy day in honour of
a deity named Martolea. Those who were caught spinning on this day
may have their guts ripped out and spread around their home or
their husbands and children killed or possessed by a demon-like
entity. Assuming that these traditions were developed to enforce
rest periods from a task that was important and ever present it
says something about the importance of the task that meant they
needed such strong disincentives to stop.
Other
superstitions upholding these taboos and times of work were less
severe. Spinning on a Good Friday would cause your fingers to
become inflamed. In Germany not putting your spinning away on a
Saturday evening ready for the Sunday rest would cause it to
tangle, while any spinning left undone by the end of Saturday would
ruin any leftover flax, making it impossible to spin or bleach. In
this case the superstition was to encourage good time management,
hard work and good housekeeping. Similarly in Slavic countries it
was said that a type of household spirit known as a kikimora would
come and tangle any textile crafts left out overnight.
While
in these instances leaving spinning out overnight is punished in
some way, there is another German superstition that says that if
someone gets up from a spinning wheel without loosening the thread,
an elf will sit and begin spinning on it. The elf will not be seen,
but the spindle will be heard whirring by itself.
Traditional accounts of spinning in fairy tales often
reflect the real life attitudes and folklore surrounding the craft.
Characters are often shown spinning to represent their industrious
and domestic nature.
For
example, in the Grimms tale of Mother Holle, the sister who gets
rewarded for her hard work finds Mother Holle’s realm by spinning
so much her fingers bleed, thereby dropping the spindle into the
well that leads to her domain. Another Grimm tale spindle, shuttle
and needle tells of an orphan girl who is left these three
instruments by her grandmother after her death, using them to
scrape by a living. When the King visits the village searching for
a bride who was at once richest and poorest. He comes across the
orphan spinning, but leaves when she shyly looks away. She
remembers the rhyme taught by her grandmother
"Spindle, my spindle, haste,
haste thee away, and here to my house bring the wooer, I
pray." her spindle
magically flies out of her hand to follow the king, who follows it
back to find her house beautifully decorated by the shuttle and
needle. He declares her both poorest and richest through her skills
and proposes marriage.
Other
tales recall assistance in the tasks of spinning and weaving by the
fairy folk. One tale from the Isle of Man tells of a young woman
who is given an impossible amount of spinning to do by her
employer, but who manages to achieve it with the help of the
fynoderee, the fairies native to the island.
In
the tale of Rumplestiltskin, a woman is imprisoned by a king after
her father boasts she can turn straw into gold. This is not an
entirely outlandish claim when looked at metaphorically, as a
skilled spinner could turn straw-like plant fibre into fine yarn
that could be used for weaving, and was worth far more than its
original form. Taken literally, though, the task is impossible and
Rumpelstiltskin agrees to help the lady in return for her first
born child, a deal she gets out of after correctly guessing his
name.
A
similar story is the Norwegian tale of the three sisters, in which
a king hears other people’s claims about a young womans spinning
and agrees to marry her if she can prove that these claims are
true. This is unfortunate for the young woman as she actually has
no idea how to do either. She is spotted weeping by three old
women, who agree to help her at her task if she recognises them as
her aunts at her wedding.
When
the wedding day comes the three old women arrive and, acknowledging
the widespread alarm at their ugly appearance and the disbelief
that they could possibly be related to the beautiful bride, claim
that it was their years of hard work spinning and weaving that
hunched their backs, wrinkled their faces and shortened their
sight. Upon learning this the king decreed that his wife should
never spin or weave again, despite her obvious skill, to maintain
her beauty - letting her off the high expectations that had been
set for her.
In
other tales it is the act of spinning itself that holds the wonder
and magic. In the tale of the six swans a young girl is only able
to lift a spell that is placed upon her brothers, turning them to
swans, by silently spinning and sewing them shirts made of
nettles.
It is
also unsurprising that many deities were associated with spinning
and weaving, considering their importance. The Finnish Kalevala,
compiled in the nineteenth century from oral folklore, contains a
number of references to spinning and weaving, such as in the poem
Rune 8 quoted at the start of this episode. In northern Europe sun
and moon deities seemed to have a link to these
crafts.
The
Sami goddess Beiwe, whose name derives from the regional word for
the sun, was closely associated with spinning and flax and spinning
wheels are left as offerings to her during major festivals.
Similarly, in Baltc countries the sun goddess Saul is said to spin
sunbeams and is represented by a spinning wheel. In this region
spindles made from amber, known locally as sun stones, have been
found in graves, further suggesting a link between the two, while
in Finland the moon Goddess Kuutar spins and weaves golden
yarn.
Further south, in Ancient Greece, Ariadne, the
granddaughter of the sun God Helios, was said to have spun the
thread used by Theseus in the Minotaur’s labyrinth, while Athena
was so proud of her weaving she turned Arachne into a spider for
challenging her skill. Interestingly, I was not able to find
any European gods of spinning or weaving, reinforcing the feminine
link with these crafts.
Spinning and weaving were so integral to society that
they were both used as a metaphor or lens through which to
understand the world. In Plato’s republic he likens the axis of the
universe as a spindle with the starry heavens as a whorl that spins
round the centre.
Telling stories, the means through which people
communicate and explore ideas to understand the world, are also
often referred to as ‘spinning yarns’ possibly because women would
tell each other tales when they got together to spin, a theme found
in the fifteenth century collection of stories named the spinners
tales, framed through the motif of ladies telling each other the
stories as they spin, in a similar manner to the Canterbury Tales
and the Decamaron.
Stories, and lives are also sometimes seen as a
tapestry, with the individual strands of a single life woven
tightly together, influencing the pattern of the
whole.
In
some mythologies the deities responsible for the fates of gods and
humans are spinners and weavers. In Ancient Greece the three fates
worked the fibre that shaped a person’s life. Clotho spun the
thread of life, Lachesis measured its length and, in some versions
spun it into a tapestry, and their sister Atropos cut the thread to
mark the end of life.
In
Norse mythology, the three Norns cared for and lived at the base of
the world tree Yggdrasil, that connected the nine realms. Together
they spun the threads of fate, determining who’s life thread was
cut short. In The First Lay of Helgi Hundingsbane, found in the
Poetic Edda, the Norns visit Helgi Hundingsbane at his birth and
wove the golden threads of the web of fate to determine the shape
of his life.
The
Valkyries were also known for their weaving abilities. While these
entities are often seen as warrior women due to their association
with battles and their role of carrying the slaughtered to
Folkvangr or Valhalla but this is not either primary role in early
literature.
Often
they were portrayed as having a role not dissimilar to that of the
Norns, watching over the battle, weaving the fates of those
fighting. The epic Beowulf tells of the valkyires crafting the
weavings of victory. The Skaldic poem Darraðarljóð, found in the eleventh century Njal’s
saga describes twelve
valkyries weaving the fate of warriors in battle.
This
poem goes into quite gruesome detail saying.
‘Blood rains from the cloudy web,
Of
the broad loom of slaughter.
The
web of man, grey as armour,
Is
now being woven; the Valkries
Will
cross it with a crimson weft.
The
warp is made of human entrails,
Human
heads are used as heddle wights,
The
heddle rods are blood-wet spears,
The
shafts are iron bound and arrows are the shuttles,
With
swords we will weave this web of battle.’
I
find the conflicting attitudes to these skills, but particularly
spinning, to be absolutely fascinating. Both were obviously
important skills to ensure people remained clothed, and also as a
means of gaining a source of income. Vast quantities of yarn and
cloth were needed to meet the needs of society, yet rest days were
enforced with such conviction that horrors were threatened to those
who ignored them.
Those
who span and wove were considered to be industrious, virtuous and
ideal wife material, yet the skill of spinning in particular was
not particularly valued outside of this. Spinning was in some ways
such a low status activity that the word spinster was used as a
pejorative insult towards women who had passed the expected age of
marriage without a husband, and yet was the primary skill held by
the very deities that maintain life on earth and controlled the
lives and fates of men.
Thank
you for listening to this episode of the History and Folklore
podcast. I hope you enjoyed it and found it interesting. An extra
thank you goes to my patreons Robin, DD Storyteller, the Fairy Folk
Podcast, Louise, Ben, John and David. Patrons help pay towards the
cost of running the podcast and are greatly
appreciated.
If
you would like to support the History and Folklore Podcast tiers
range from £1-£3 a month in exchange for benefits including early
access to podcast episodes, a monthly zine with more in-depth
information about the topic of that month’s episode and a chance to
vote on the next month’s episode theme.
You can
also follow the podcast on Instagram at history and folklore,
twitter at HistoryFolklore and Facebook at the History and Folklore
podcast where I post hopefully interesting history and folklore
facts pretty much daily and answer any questions or
feedback.
Thank
you so much for listening, and I look forward to seeing you next
time.