An Interview: The Dagda

Dagda Art by: Christopher Chamberlain


I did a piece on The Dagda for Authors Promoting Authors about this man, god, and self-indulgent womanizer just in time for the Book Blitz featuring my novel, Tuatha and the Seven Sisters Moon. In my book, Dagda reappears, awakened from a two-thousand year slumber to find a world vastly different from the one he left.

I'm very lucky today, because the big man himself graced me, a mere mortal, with a chat. I first realize that though I'm short on a normal scale, next to him I'm more like a bug. He’s huge, burly, over seven foot tall, and he kept an enormous club on his back, a simmering cauldron on his shoulder, and a richly detailed harp at his side that made it very nerve-wracking. Not to mention, he's kind of a flirt.Me: Wow. What an honor, really. How should I address you? King? Sir? Mister Dagda? Your royal Highness?
Dagda: Aodh, actually will do fine. Pleasure.
Me: Aodh it is. Would you, um, like a pair of pants, Aodh? You know, walking around..
Aodh: Yeh think I ought to be wearing trousers?
Me: Yes, actually I do.
Dagda: Yeh sound like my mate Dru, always telling me to cover up. Yer quite cute. Married?
Me: (Shuffling in my seat, dropping notes on the floor.) Uh, yes, I am, Aodh. As are you, of course.
Dagda: Erm, too right yeh are. Though I'd say widower. Don't think the missus survived the plague. Is yer husband still living?
Me: Yes he is.
Dagda: Has he ever been the Cliffs of Moher? They’re lovely.
Me: No, no he hasn't. Why may I ask?
Dagda: So inspirational. Especially when yer flying off the edge, soaring over the most beautiful sea.
Me: ~Blinks incessantly for a moment~ You realize he can’t fly?
Dagda: Aye.
Me: OK. I think that leads us to why you're here with me today. You've just resurfaced after a two-thousand years absence. Can you tell us what happened?
Dagda: Well, we live by the word of the druids, see. They're the original do-it-alls. They're masters of medicine, philosophy, knowledge, language and even magic. Especially prophetic magic. So, long ago, I was told a great series of wars would occur. Everything would change and nearly everything would be destroyed. They instructed me to go into a deep slumber, allow these things to happen without me in the forefront, battling for survival. This was to be the way if we were to survive. With me gone, only the strong remained.
Me: What do you think of the world that you see now? Surely, it must have been jarring.
Dagda. Oh, aye. I’m not too fond of those, eh, wot do yeh call them? Fags? They give off an awful stench.
Me: Excuse me? Do you mean cigarettes?
Dagda: That’s right. Quite horrible actually. I do enjoy some of the music of today, and the mead in the green cans is just brill.
Me: Mead in green cans? Heineken?
Dagda: No, something about a mountain with it. Mountained dews.
Me: Mt. Dew? You’re a fan?
Dagda: Yeh, that’s the one. Does the opposite as most drink. Speeds yeh up instead of slowing down.
Me: That’s the point, sir, it’s called caffeine.
Dagda: Don’t call me sir. Bloody hell do I hate that piss.
Me: Right, Aodh. You mentioned a best friend before, Dru. How did you meet?
Dagda: Aye, Dru. She’s a bit feisty. Had to sort her out before she set the whole bleedin’ world on fire.
Me: How do you mean?
Dagda: Yeh ask an awful lot of questions, I believe it’s my turn, love. Now, yeh had to go and chronicle the events of Samhain. Why couldn’t yeh just leave some things well enough alone? I don’t think the entirely of civilisation needs to know about certain events in, well, chapter 21.
Me: You don’t like chapter 21?
Dagda: Don’t go putting words in my mouth. I’m saying, yer a bunch of nosey gits eh? Have to know every bloody detail?
Me: Nosy? I think people would want to know..
Dagda: There are some bits no one needs to know.
Me: Ohh, is this because of Katerina?
Dagda: That’s neither here nor there.
Me: For our audience that may not know, she’s a bit different from your normal conquest isn’t she, Aodh?
Dagda: Quite polar opposite I’d say. And she’s not a conquest.
Me: No. She’s a human.
Dagda: That she is.
Me: Are you, grinning?
Dagda: Of course not. I’m looking quite fierce and imposing. Fierce gaze.
Me: With dimples.
Dagda: Oi, quiet woman.
Me: Don’t call me woman.
Dagda: Don’t make me zip it for yeh cos I’m not sure I can undo the damage actually. Has Dru inhabited yer body and no one warned me? Is this a trick of Avaryn’s?
Me: Moving along.
Dagda: Not frightened love? Could be Kas sitting in my stead.
Me: Now that’s just mean.
Dagda: Can’t say I disagree, he’s a right prick. Haven’t even had the chance to..
Me: Don’t spoil it!
Dagda: That’s one daemon who’ll top my list for some time to come, and perhaps a lifetime or two after depending on me mood. And his ability to heal.
Me: You always get your man?
Dagda: And woman. I’m a bit accustomed to getting wot I want. If I wan this head on a pike, it’ll be.
Me: Are you admitting to being spoiled?
Dagda: I’m not a spoilt brat, I just get wot I want when I want it cos that’s my station in life. So, speaking of getting. How do yeh feel about getting some of that mountained dew?
Me: Aodh!
Dagda: Wot?
Me: You’re married!
Dagda: I’m not.
Me: Huh? Since when?
Dagda: Since it’s not Samhain, yet. I have a month to erm, sow my oats.
Me: You have sown oats, and corn, and every other starch from here to Ballyvaughan!
Dagda: Rubbish. Never even met an American girl before.
Yeh telling me no?
Me: Yes.
Dagda: Ah right, of course.
Me: No, I meant yes to the no.
Dagda: I can’t understand a bleedin’ word yeh say. Really would be in yer favour to quit whilst yer ahead.
Me: You don’t understand no?
Dagda: That I understand. It’s accepting it that’s the difficulty, see. Come off it, won’t kill yeh.
Me: No, it won’t kill me, but my husband..
Dagda: Ah, pity yeh, it could kill him, indeed.





(This is purely for fun and entertainment. My good friend played along with me, and had a little too much fun as this is only a quarter of the interview. Maybe if people like it, I'll post some more.)