“I think this rude bard of the North [Ossian] the greatest poet that has ever existed.” Thomas Jefferson, 1773

James MacPherson in his final years. He would be buried in Westminster Abbey.

November 30 is Saint Andrew’s Day, the equivalent of Saint Patrick’s Day for the Scots. Saint Andrew’s Cross, the “saltire cross”, adorns the Scottish flag. I intended to post this on Saint Andrew’s Day. That is because 2021 marks the two hundred and eighty-fifth anniversary year of James MacPherson’s birth and the two hundred and twenty-fifth anniversary of his death. It is by no means hyperbole—though it is certainly arguable—to call MacPherson “The Father of Modern Scottish Literature”. Nor would it be overselling it to call him “One of the Fathers of Modern (Anglophone) Fantasy”.

The life and career of James MacPherson could be characterized as "deeply problematic". Born in northernmost Scotland--part of the Highlands and a Scottish Gaelic-speaking region at that time--he had relatives who fought at the Battle of Culloden. Despite that, he threw in his lot wholeheartedly with the English-Hanoverian rulers of Great Britain. At the same time, MacPherson was producing 'translations' of Gaelic poetry relating to the Scottish Gaelic hero, Fingal, and his warrior-bard son, Ossian, despite the fact that he was, apparently, only somewhat fluent in Scots Gaelic. The first of these poems were published in 1760 as Fragments of Ancient Poetry Collected in the Highlands of Scotland.

Abildgaard’s rendition of blind Ossian, the warrior-poet, declaiming the tales of yore as an old man.

Well-received, that book was followed, in the December of 1761, by Fingal, an Ancient Epic Poem in Six Books, together with Several Other Poems composed by Ossian, the Son of Fingal. Very long book titles were a thing in the Eighteenth Century.

People lost their minds.

MacPherson's Fingal book sold like crazy all over Britain. It is no exaggeration to call him "the J.K. Rowling of the Eighteenth Century". Before you know it, Fingal translations--of MacPherson's book--were taking France, Germany, Italy and the rest of Europe by storm.

Let me spend a few moments to describe what MacPherson was writing about. The "Fingal" of the title was cognate with Fionn mac Cumhaill/Finn McCool of the Irish Gaelic "Fenian" cycle of legends. MacPherson's Fingal is a Scottish warrior from around 250 B.C. Fingal's exploits are told by his son, the blind warrior-poet, Ossian, cognate with the Irish hero, Oisin. The son of Ossian is Oscar, something important to remember when we evaluate MacPherson's influence and legacy later.

Temora followed in 1763, and a collected edition, The Works of Ossian, in 1765. MacPherson utterly ruled the British book market at this point, such as it was. Books of fiction simply were not as widely available or as widely-bought as now. Still, MacPherson became a wealthy man, though he cannily kept his day job.

Carstens’ depiction of a scene from “Cath-loda”, a chapter in *Fingal*.

The authenticity of MacPherson's "translations" was challenged early on by the Irish Gaelic scholar, Charles O'Conor. While I think his arguments have merit, they don't really take into account the fact that Scots Gaelic folklore would've diverged--at the latest--by 500 A.D. We know from other examples in folklores around the world that the original versions of legends can become distorted and localized when a population emigrates to a new land.

The greatest challenge to MacPherson came from the belligerent pie-hole of Samuel Johnson. While I don't usually do this, Johnson's prejudices have to be foregrounded before looking at his opinions on MacPherson's authenticity.

Samuel Johnson was born in Staffordshire, England in 1709. He moved to London in 1737. Those dates are important. There were serious Scottish Highlander revolts against Hanoverian rule in 1715, 1719 and 1745. The last of them, in 1745, had Londoners crapping themselves. Red-shanked, Gaelic-speaking Highlander barbarians armed with broadswords were charging toward London! That was the rumor going 'round. London was spared ignominious rapine and plunder due to the Scottish defeat at Culloden, but that makes the fear of Londoners no less real. A nerdish boy, Johnson grew up, almost from the cradle, fearing the assaults of Gaelic Highlanders.

Is it any wonder that Johnson reacted with verbal violence and disdain when Gaelic Highlanders were empowered with pathos and nobility by MacPherson in the Ossianic tales? Feel free to check out Johnson's quotes regarding Scotland here.

Meanwhile, one of MacPherson's earliest American fans was Thomas Jefferson. Here is a letter he wrote in 1773 to Charles MacPherson, a relative of James:

"Merely for the pleasure of reading his works, I am become desirous of learning the language in which he sung, and of possessing his songs in their original form. Mr. McPherson [sic], I think, informs us he is possessed of the originals. Indeed, a gentleman has lately told me he had seen them in print; but I am afraid he has mistaken a specimen from Temora, annexed to some of the editions of the translation, for the whole works. If they are printed, it will abridge my request and your trouble, to the sending me a printed copy; but if there be more such, my petition is, that you would be so good as to use your interest with Mr. McPherson to obtain leave to take a manuscript copy of them, and procure it to be done. (...) I would further beg the favor of you to give me a catalogue of the books written in that language, and to send me such of them as may be necessary for learning it. These will, of course, include a grammar and dictionary."

That's right: Jefferson was willing to learn Scots Gaelic in order to read the Ossianic tales in their 'original' tongue. It isn't surprising that Jefferson was a fan. Despite him being a quintessential 'Man of the Enlightenment', he was also an admirer of 'Red Indians', as well as of Hengist and Horsa. Ol' Tom had a wild streak in 'im.

The Johnsonian controversy was such that--after MacPherson's death--the Highland Society of Scotland issued its The Report of the Committee of the Highland Society of Scotland, Appointed to Inquire into the Nature and Authenticity of the Poems of Ossian. Published in 1805, the report concluded that while Macpherson indeed made use of Gaelic originals for the plot of his poems and even translated many passages directly from Gaelic exemplars, his epics were largely the products of his own imagination. In other words, he did what, most likely, Homer and Virgil had done before him and that Lonnrot would do decades later--though, perhaps, to a greater degree. MacPherson was favorably compared to Homer and Virgil at the time, by the way.

Meanwhile, as the Johnson-fueled buzzkill dampened enthusiasm for the Ossian tales in Britain, a fervor for MacPherson's books swept Europe. His two most important Continental admirers would have to be Goethe and Napoleon. Goethe--considered by many to be Germany's greatest author--was floored by the Ossianic tales and he would be the main conduit for their popularity in German society. Napoleon kept an Italian translation of The Works of Ossian by him wherever he went, even into battles. His admiration of the Ossianic tales helped inspire several works of art in the early 1800s. It also, ultimately, influenced the popularity of the name "Oscar" in Scandinavia.

Even after MacPherson's alleged "fraud" was somewhat accepted as fact in Britain and most of Europe, he continued to inspire artists and creatives of various sorts for decades. Feel free to check out this fine article regarding the Ossianic influence upon the arts. We still feel the effects of that now.

Isabey’s painting of Ossian conjuring up tales from the past, 1805.

The Ossianic tales provided a major impetus to the artistic movement of Romanticism in Britain and all across Europe. Despite being labeled 'savage' and 'barbaric', Fingal and Ossian struck a chord with Europeans. Those Europeans had experienced the first wave of Modernity and they were not sure they liked everything they saw.

For the artists/authors of northern and western Europe, here was something that was theirs, not something borrowed from the Greeks and Romans. It was 'de-colonialization', if you will. The Pre-Raphaelite School grew out of Romanticism. Thus, the Ossianic tales had some distant influence upon, for instance, Barry Windsor-Smith. I would dearly like to see an illustrated edition of The Poems of Ossian with BWS art.

The whole Ossianic controversy, inadvertently, brought Irish Gaelic legendry and folklore out of the shadows when it came to Anglospheric scholarship. Gaelic-Irish scholar, Charles O'Conor, was enlisted to 'refute' Gaelic-Scottish James MacPherson. That lead to interest in what the 'real' Irish Gaelic Fionn mac Cumhaill and the Fenian Cycle was all about. In many ways, "Celtic Studies" began with the publication of Fingal. I wonder what Samuel Johnson would think of that? If he'd only kept his mouth shut...

Meanwhile, in Germany, the Ossianic tales had fired up J.G. Herder. He began to study the folktales of his homeland, which led directly to the ground-breaking work of the Brothers Grimm. Basically, the Ossianic tales--despite the fact that MacPherson wasn't transmitting actual folklore all that accurately--helped start the entire field of European 'folklore studies', which eventually led to the same thing spreading across the globe. 'Folklore Studies' are essentially a European innovation which was inspired by MacPherson.

One 'in real life' effect of the Ossianic tales is the popularity of the name 'Oscar' across many nations with a major European connection. Originally the Irish Gaelic name of Fionn mac Cumhaill's heroic grandson, Oscar's name didn't suffer the same deformation in Gaelic Scotland as did Fionn's or Oisin's and stayed basically identical to the Irish original. For whatever reason--perhaps because Oscar was the son of Ossian--numerous Europeans chose to name their sons 'Oscar' and not 'Fingal' or 'Ossian'. The story of how 'Oscar' became an honored name in Sweden can be found here.

The reason why 'Oscar' took off in Germany--other than the huge popularity of the Ossianic tales--is less clear, but it is a fact that 'Oscar' or its variant, 'Oskar', was unknown as a given name in Deutschland until about 1770. The same goes for Spain and its many colonies. An edition of Ossianic tales was published in Spain in 1818. Try and find 'Oscar' as a Spanish given name before 1770. ‘Oscar’ is, today, forty-first amongst all Spanish names, despite the vast repertoire of names available to Spanish parents.

MacPherson's influence ultimately extends to Hollywood's Academy Awards. The accounts of how the "Award for Merit" came to be called an 'Oscar' are several, but all would seem to ultimately trace back to the popularity of the Ossianic tales, one way or another.

It is probably time to wrap this up, despite barely scratching the surface of the Ossianic/MacPherson topic.

MacPherson's tales of Fingal and Ossian (and Oscar) struck like a thunderbolt into the literary firmament of Europe. Here were stories of nobility and adventure, of honor and tragedy--none of them owing a major debt to Greece or Rome. Authors and artists from Iceland to Russia drew inspiration from the Ossianic tales. This was a Northern Thing and they took Ossian to their hearts.

Of course, some of you are asking, "Yeah, but why does all of that matter now?" Answer: because MacPherson won, despite all of the slings and arrows.

On the one hand, he helped rehabilitate the reputation of the Scottish people and he jump-started Celtic Studies in the Anglosphere. Suddenly, Englishmen like Johnson gave a damn about what Irish Gaelic legends actually had to say--if only to refute MacPherson. Numerous collections of Welsh and Irish legendry were published almost immediately after 1762 and for decades subsequently. In fact, that tide has never fully ebbed since Fingal was published. It should also be noted that the Ossianic tales gave an impetus toward the serious study of the Icelandic tales. The effects rippled on and on, all across Northern Europe.

On the other hand, the Ossianic tales were considered towering works of art--in and of themselves--at the time, influencing countless authors and artists. Legitimate, high-quality works of art were produced under the direct influence of MacPherson's tales of Ossian. As I've noted, MacPherson was a huge factor in the foundation of Romanticism. Sir Walter Scott, a Romanticist, the inventor of the historical adventure novel and a forefather of sword-and-sorcery, was a great admirer of the Ossianic tales.

Robert E. Howard himself saw artistic value in the tales of Ossian:

"So you've been reading Macpherson? Well, don't take him too seriously. He's a damned fraud. I like his stuff because of their beauty and imagery -- " [quotes several lines from MacPherson's "Carthon"]. "Well, read him for his beauty, but realize his junk's a hoax." — February, 1930

REH mentions the "beauty" of MacPherson's prose twice. In a short span. What better endorsement do the Ossianic tales need in regard to their artistic merits? However, there is also the question of themes. People at the time referred to Fingal and his fellow third-century Gaels as 'savage', in comparison to Homer's 'barbaric' Achaeans.

MacPherson introduced the concept of the 'noble (Scottish) savage’ into Anglophone literature a full two years before Rousseau published his French version of the concept in 1762. From there, we see noble (Scottish) barbarians in the works of Walter Scott. Kipling's Mowgli is another 'noble savage', as is Burroughs' Tarzan. As is Conan.

Are you starting to see why MacPherson matters?

Here in the twenty-first century, MacPherson's Ossian is making a comeback in his homeland. Acclaimed Scottish artist-photographer, Calum Colvin, published an illustrated selection of the Ossianic tales in 2010. There have been other Ossianic stirrings in Alba beside that. Don't count out MacPherson or his masterwork just yet.

A complete text of The Poems of Ossian can be found here.