Someplace Between

They are not quite monsters, nor angels nor demons, yet they contain elements of all three. They are slightly freakish, sometimes glorious, and often deceptive. If the creatures that the human mind creates are offshoots of the human mind, and if fairies contain traces of all such creatures, it is no surprise that they should be the most human of the bunch. So just how human aren’t they? The very word “supernatural” implies some amount of freedom from physical limitations, and this is what separates fairies from us common folk. Still, if they can engage in physical activities (sex, eating, etc.), and even be enticed by them, it would seem that they must have some substance.

The commonly accepted idea is that fairies’ bodies are “astral.” That is, they are comprised of spiritual matter that cannot be grasped and that passes through other solid substances, but they are capable of eating, drinking, sleeping, talking, and other physical activities at will. Paracelsus, a Swiss occultist, developed some leading ideas on this matter, separating all fairies into four categories based on the four elements of the earth. Gnomes inhabited the earth and soil, sylphs air, salamanders fire, and undines water. Their bodies were more transient than human flesh, but more solid than pure spirit. Though a certain fairy would not be comprised of its given element itself, it was closely tied to it and therefore to a physical world. With the Christianization of fairy lore, some theorized that fairies were actually fallen angels, stopped by the earth halfway between heaven and hell and turned into given types of creature depending on their area of landing. This follows with the idea that fairies were neither good nor evil, but merely different, stuck between with the rest of us. Paracelsus, however, did not believe that fairies were immortal. Because of their innate link to the earth, they merely returned to it, ceasing to exist when they died.

I find this particularly interesting insofar as it relates to salvation. There are numerous accounts of fairies seeking to be saved only to learn that they are barred from that gift, though a few stories tell otherwise. I cannot help but wonder if this would have seemed as much a part of the freedom of the fae folk as the ability to walk through walls. If they could not be saved, neither could they be damned. Surely there must have been something tantalizing in the idea of abandoning the impositions of the church without consequence (remembering that the doctrine of the time focused on the punishment of disobedience rather than the reward of loyalty). Perhaps fairies were, in this way, a form of wish fulfillment as are so many fantasies, the embodiment of a what-if that one could never achieve for oneself.