CW: This post contains references to real-life violence and femicide, specifically the historical murder of Bridget Cleary, which some readers may find distressing. Please proceed with care.
Welcome back to another Folklore Wednesday- our biweekly journey through mythology, superstition, and all things enchantingly eerie. If you’re new to the series, every other Wednesday I dive into a topic pulled from the rich tapestry of global folklore. So far, we’ve explored the nature of the Fae, how to avoid angering them, and why you should never give out your true name unless you trust someone with your life. (Seriously.)
Someday I’d love for this to become a weekly series, but chronic illness has its own rhythm- and for now, we honor the pace it allows. Begrudgingly, of course.
🕯 This Week’s Question: Can the Fae Lie?
If you’re a fantasy reader, you’ve likely heard the claim: the Fae cannot lie. It’s a trope woven into countless books and stories. One of my favorite depictions of this comes from Holly Black’s Ironside, where a faerie character confesses:
“When I try to lie, I feel panicked and my mind starts racing, looking for a safe way to say it. I feel like I’m suffocating. My jaw just locks. I can’t make any sound come out.”
(p. 56)
But how does this modern fantasy staple stack up against older, traditional folklore?
🌿 Truth, Trickery, and the Changeling Dilemma
If you’ve read my earlier post on changelings, you’ll know that the Fair Folk were once believed to steal human babies- or even adults- and leave enchanted substitutes in their place. These imposters would often wither and die, fooling the family into thinking their loved one had passed, when in fact they were spirited away to the Otherworld.
One of the most chilling real-life echoes of this folklore is the story of Bridget Cleary, an Irish woman murdered by her husband in 1895. He believed she was a changeling, a supernatural imposter of his wife. Bridget’s story is heartbreaking and brutal, and while I won’t retell the details here, I encourage anyone interested to research it- just be aware, it’s not for the faint of heart.
The changeling myth raises an interesting contradiction: if the Fae are master deceivers, able to trick entire families, how can they also be beings who cannot lie?
🔍 Literal Truth and Loopholes
In many fairy tales, the power of words is absolute. The Fae may not outright lie, but they wield truth like a scalpel- precise, sharp, and potentially deadly. Deals made with the Fair Folk often hinge on exact phrasing, and anything left vague is fair game for mischief.
Take the Irish tale “The Field of Boliauns,” where a man coerces a leprechaun into revealing where his gold is buried. The man marks the spot with a garter and makes the leprechaun swear not to touch it. True to his word, the leprechaun doesn’t touch it- instead, he ties identical garters to every single ragwort stalk in the field. Clever. Literal. Infuriating.
Other stories turn on similar wordplay:
- A man unknowingly trades “Nix, Nought, Nothing” to a giant- only to realize it’s the name of his son.
- In Rumpelstiltskin, the deal is sealed unless the girl can uncover his true name.
- In “The Devil’s Bargain” tales, a man thinks he’s giving up an apple tree- but it’s really his daughter the Devil is after.
- So, it’s not that the Fae can’t lie in the traditional sense. It’s that they often don’t need to. They manipulate language itself. They exploit every ambiguity, every assumption. To them, truth is a puzzle- one they’re better at solving than you are.
🤝 When Humans Trick the Fae
Of course, humans aren’t always the victims in these stories. Sometimes, we get the upper hand. In “The Farmer and the Boggart,” a boggart lays claim to a farmer’s field. The farmer, cunning as can be, asks the boggart if he wants “tops or bottoms” of the next harvest. The boggart chooses “bottoms,” so the farmer grows wheat- leaving the boggart with roots. Next year, the boggart demands “tops,” and the farmer switches to turnips.
Trickery goes both ways, and in the old tales, it’s often a battle of wits rather than brute force.
đź“š Folklore, Morality, and the Honest Folk
Historically, the Fae are sometimes referred to as the “Honest Folk” or “Good Neighbors.” In Gaelic, you’ll hear daoine coire; in Lithuanian, balti žmones. But don’t take these names at face value- they’re flattery, plain and simple, used to avoid the wrath of these unpredictable beings.
As John Rhys noted in Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx, there are multiple classes of Fae. Some are kind to mortals; others are petty thieves who swap gold for glamours and steal milk, cheese, and children. Honesty, in this context, is often defined by a lack of theft, not a lack of deceit.
Still, in many cultures, there’s an association between supernatural beings and moral lessons:
- In “The Rough-Face Girl” (Algonquin), truth and perseverance are rewarded.
- In “Our Lady’s Child” (German), honesty triumphs after trial.
- In Aesop’s “The Honest Woodcutter,” honesty earns divine favor.
- Even Pinocchio includes a fairy who punishes lies with an ever-growing nose—only relenting after she’s made her point.
✨ So… Can the Fae Lie?
That depends on how you define lying.
According to folklorist Katharine Mary Briggs, the Fae do not lie- not because they physically can’t, but because they follow a strict moral code that places high value on truth, wordplay, and intent. The more literal interpretation- that they are incapable of lying- may be a modern fantasy embellishment rather than a historical belief.
What we do know is this: dealing with the Fae is never straightforward. If you must, speak clearly, avoid bargains, and for the love of all things enchanted, never give your real name.
Until next time, friends. Be safe. Be clever. And be careful what you promise.
-Sky, The Crippled Cryptid.
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