Original Comic By Rasenth

Original comic by Rasenth

galadriel, lady of the golden wood 💫

Sorry everyone but this is how i headcanon Huan from now on, idc…

I’m hijacking this post, because I love talking about hungarian culture and folklore. (Gonna keep it short for now though, I need to study.)

A tale every hungarian knows since their childhood is the tale of the Csodaszarvas [wonderstag]. It’s tied to the hungarian originmyth.

Basically, two brothers, Hunor and Magor/Magyar were hunting in the forest, when they saw a marvellous stag. They began to chase it, but the stag kept escaping. Eventually they arrived to a new land, where the stag disappeared.

They looked around, and found the forest and lakes bountiful, so they settled down with their people. The land become known as Hungary, and Hunor’s descendants became the huns and from Magor/Magyar came the hungarians [magyarok].

In some versions of the legend, the stag has tousands of burning candles on its antlers, its fur is snow-white, and it doesn’t touch the ground while running. The bright sun is on its forehead, on its side is the silver moon, on its kidney (?) the shining stars.

Another creature from the folklore is the turul (imagine an eagle, just bigger. Some say it’s based on a type of falcon, i don’t actually know). The legend attached to the turul is the origin of the first kings of Hungary. On one night, a woman named Emese from a hungarian tribe (it’s a tale before the hungarians came to Central Europe) dreams about a turul bird. The bird lands on her, and she gets pregnant. She dreams, that from her womb a long line of kings will come.

Her son is named Álmos [álom means dream, and he was concieved in a dream]. He will become a chieftain among the hungarians, and from him (well, from his son) originates the original hungarian royal family (it died out a long time ago).

Two creatures worth mentioning from the folklore: the vasorrú bába [word-by-word iron-nosed midwife] and the rézfaszú bagoly [copper-dicked owl].

Vasorrú bába is just another word for witch in most tales, but originally it referred to the women, who did the abortions on the girls needing it. Vasorr = iron-nose is the device they used, bába = midwife is a rather morbid associaton with delivering babies.

Rézfaszú bagoly is similar. It was used for men; bagoly = owl, a reference to that it’s a doctor, rézfasz = copper-dick is again, the device.

Now you can all imagine what does the sentence “vitt volna el a rézfaszú bagoly / the copper-dicked owl should’ve taken you” means.

This post got longer than I anticipated. Maybe I do sometime a part two, where I talk about folktales and songs. I certanly would enjoy it lmao. Sorry for the bad english, it’s late.

hii !! it's speak your language day !! soo for today's ask, could you tell me something (in your language) about your country's costumes and folklore?

Ahaa, igen csak ezt lefordítani nem fogom tudni angolra szóval majd a Google Fordító lesz max a barátod :"D (Tényleg bocsi de ezt nem tudom angolul elmondani 😅 vagyis ha a drága Google nem tudja nagyon értelmezni, akkor megpróbálom, de nehéz)

Igazából nekünk suliban van néptánc óránk, ahol igazából minden más ilyen kulturális dolgokról is szó van.

A népviseletekről azt kell tudni hogy kb az ilyen 1800-1900-as években alakultak ki (talán? Nem tudom, lehet/valószínűleg hamarabb is volt), és minél keletebbre vagyunk Magyarországon belül, annál kevésbé díszes. Tehát például a szatmári viseletek sokkal egyszerűbbek mint amik az ország nyugati felében vannak, mert ahogy a textíliák jöttek be az országba, a keleti részbe sokkal kevesebb féle jutott már el, mint a nyugati részbe. VISZONT ettől függetlenül minden viselet gyönyörű a maga módján.

Ez például a szatmári viselet:

Ez meg gombosi (bár Gombos már nem Magyarországon van de ez egy hosszú sztori. A lényeg hogy ez is magyar)

Ez jóval nyugatabbra van mint Szatmár, és látszik is a ruhán, hogy sokkal sokkal díszesebb mint a másik.

Umm a folklore az... Hát nem tudom. Van egy csomó népmesénk de igazából az nem nagyon különleges szerintem. Bár amúgy vannak érdekesek is, de most egy sem jut eszembe.

Illetve ez annyira nem ide kapcsolódik, de van egy vers amit nagyon szeretek, egy magyar költő írta, Arany János, az a címe hogy A walesi bárdok (The bards of Wales in English, if you wanna read it), és szerintem kb ez a kedvenc versem, ami nagy szó mert eléggé hadilábon állok a versekkel/költészettel. Ennek a versnek amúgy van egy tök érdekes háttere, de ha beleteszem akkor már nagyon hosszú lesz az egész (így is az 😂)

Oké, utolsó fun fact, nálunk a családnevet veszik előre, és csak utána a keresztnevet, vagyis ugye amit a szülők adnak. Ez nagyon nagyon kevés más nyelvben van így, amennyire én tudom.

And I hope I wrote everything right cause if I didn't then google translate won't understand it lol

Egyébként ha van itt aki jobban ért a kultúrához mint én, ami azért nem nehéz, nyugodtan javítsatok ki mert nem igazán értek ehhez 😅

My take on that one gif people were redrawing as hannigram on twt

charmed by the idea that celeborn does fade into a tree, a tall and gracious mallorn with silver leaves, deep of root and branches raised to live every season fully - up until the end of all ages, past dagor dagorath.

ony for galadriel to wake alone in arda unmarred, and go searching across the new seas and continents for her own tall tree.

it makes no difference. galadriel's hungry for knowledge, little pacified by the perfection of her surroundings when something from the past someone very like her once lived. it plucks at her, the lack, like a note in a harp repeated, a longing sound.

she will recognize it when she finds it, she knows - will know it in every shape, in the twist of bark and the glittering of sap; never mind this world is stranger and more alive than even valinor during the noontide, and little raw around the edges.

it is a fairy-tale search, with vague memories to guide her, and her burning will. white hounds guide her, and songbirds tempt her with the distraction of knowledge - and to twitter, chidingly, when she tries to surpass every quest and test with skill but a little too much hubris.

galadriel knows there is something of hers lost, something she has to find. she walks all the woods, and speaks to all the tree-shepherds. sometimes she thinks the leaves of tall tree shiver a little at her voice, turning to her; but none wake to greet her, and none are her tree.