Читать книгу 366 Celt: A Year and A Day of Celtic Wisdom and Lore - Carl McColman - Страница 42

The bard’s magic could be described in a single word: enchantment. Chanting, of course, is related to song, but an enchantment is a song with something extra: an altered state, a doorway to the spiritual realm. Enchantment is what separates garden-variety entertainment from the true bard’s art, where his or her talents are used to bring divine transformation into the world.

Think of Gregorian chant. It’s a style of music that has been used in Christian monasteries for a thousand years, and yet in the late twentieth century several CDs of such unadorned singing were bestsellers, with millions of copies sold to people who had little or no connection with organized religion. Why? Naturally, because the music was enchanting. People described it as soothing, relaxing, peaceful, meditative—all words that speak of a mild altered state of consciousness that the music helped foster. Herein lies another clue to the power of the bards. Much Celtic music, from airs on a harp to lively jigs played on a fiddle, embodies a similar ability to entrance the listener—to snap him or her into a sonically-induced mystical state. In the hands of a true bard, such musical magic is not merely an impressive show, but a ceremonial means of finding inner transformation.