Skip to content
Updated on: by Avatar image of authorCove Team Review By: Esraa Mahmoud

Article Summary

What this article covers: How Irish storytelling moved from the fireside to the recording archive to the podcast feed, which five shows are worth your listening time, and how to pair episodes with the real places in Ireland the stories came from.

Who this is for: Listeners looking for Irish folklore and mythology podcasts, diaspora readers tracing a cultural connection, and travellers who want the stories in their ears before they reach the sites.

Key takeaway: Podcasting is not a novelty grafted onto Irish oral tradition. It is the third stage of a recording effort that began with wax cylinders in 1935, and it returns to the stories the one thing print always removed: the sound of a person telling them.

Expert insight: “The first time I heard a Clare seanchaí on tape rather than on the page, the difference was the pauses. He left gaps where the listener was meant to be frightened, and no printed version of that story had ever left room for them. That is what audio gives back to Irish storytelling, and it is why we cover these shows on ConnollyCove.” , Ciaran Connolly, Founder of ConnollyCove

Quick facts:

  • The Irish Folklore Commission was established in 1935; its collection at University College Dublin was inscribed on the UNESCO Memory of the World Register in December 2017.
  • Between 1937 and 1939, roughly 50,000 children in about 5,000 schools wrote down more than 750,000 pages of local lore for the Schools’ Collection, now digitised on dúchas.ie.
  • Blúiríní Béaloidis, the podcast of the National Folklore Collection, launched in April 2017 and is presented by archivist Jonny Dillon.

Somebody in Crusheen, County Clare sits down once a month in front of a microphone and tells a story about the Good People that he collected from a farmer forty years ago. Several thousand people listen. That is not a revival of Irish storytelling. It is the same job it always was, done with better equipment.

The phrase “digital shamans” gets used for these creators, and it is worth saying plainly at the start that seanchaithe were never shamans. They were lore-keepers, a role with parallels right across the six Celtic nations, and the difference matters.

What follows sets out where the tradition actually came from, why the audio format suits it so well, five shows worth subscribing to, and how to match specific episodes to the places in Ireland the stories describe.

How the Seanchaí Tradition Reached the Microphone

A podcast setup with a microphone, headphones, mobile, and coffee mug sits on a checked blanket overlooking dramatic sea cliffs at sunset. The mobile displays “Irish Storytelling Podcast,” inviting listeners to explore Celtic folklore and the digital shamans who keep these ancient tales alive.

Irish storytelling arrived at the podcast through a documented chain of recording work, not a leap. The state started capturing spoken tradition on machines in the 1930s, which means the audio archive of Irish storytelling predates radio culture in most Irish homes. Understanding who did what in the old system also clears up a term most articles use far too loosely.

Filí, Scéalaithe and Seanchaithe Were Three Different Jobs

“Seanchaí” is not a catch-all word for anyone who told a story. The filí were the trained professional poets of the Gaelic order, schooled for years, attached to a lord, and responsible for praise, satire and genealogy. ConnollyCove’s account of the bardic order and its long afterlife in Ireland covers how that professional class was dismantled and what replaced it.

Below the filí sat two community roles that survived the collapse of the old system. The scéalaí was the reciter of the long heroic tales, the wonder-tales and the mythological cycles, often performing a single story across an entire evening. The seanchaí held the local material: genealogy, place-lore, cures, disputes, who owned what field and which fort you did not interfere with.

What the Irish Folklore Commission Recorded from 1935

The Irish Folklore Commission was set up in 1935 with a specific fear behind it: that the fireside evening was ending and nobody had written any of it down. Collectors went out with Ediphone wax cylinder machines, transcribed what they had recorded, and then shaved the cylinders clean to reuse them. The stories they gathered included the creature lore that ConnollyCove documents in its guide to the legendary beings of Celtic mythology.

That work ran until 1971. The resulting archive is now held at University College Dublin, and in December 2017 the Irish Folklore Commission Collection was inscribed on the UNESCO Memory of the World Register, the only Irish entry alongside the Book of Kells.

The Schools’ Collection and the Children Who Wrote It Down

The most quietly extraordinary part of the whole effort happened in classrooms. Between 1937 and 1939, the Commission worked with the Department of Education and the Irish National Teachers’ Organisation to send around 50,000 senior primary school children home with notebooks and instructions to write down what their parents and neighbours knew. Many of the moral tales ConnollyCove examines in its collection of Irish folktales and the lessons they carry exist in written form only because of that homework.

Children from roughly 5,000 schools produced more than 750,000 pages. You can read the originals, in the children’s own handwriting, at the National Folklore Collection’s digitisation project on dúchas.ie.

Why the Fireside Went Quiet

Three things closed the storytelling house down. Rural electrification and the spread of radio gave people something else to do after dark. Emigration thinned out the audiences. And the language shift meant that a story told in Irish increasingly reached a household that answered in English.

None of this happened cleanly or all at once, and pockets of the practice held on well into living memory, particularly in Clare, Kerry and the Gaeltacht areas of Donegal and Galway. ConnollyCove’s overview of Irish customs and how they have changed tracks the same pattern across other household practices.

Why Audio Suits These Stories Better Than Print

Irish storytelling loses more than most traditions in the move to text, which is why the audio format has taken hold so quickly. The stories were built for a voice and a room. Print keeps the plot and throws away the delivery, the timing and the accent that told you how to feel about what you were hearing.

The Sound the Page Could Not Hold

Read a transcription of Irish storytelling from the Schools’ Collection, and you get the events. You do not get the speed the teller used, the repetitions that let a listener catch up, or the local pronunciation of the place names that anchored the whole thing. Hiberno-English carries rhythms borrowed straight from Irish, and those rhythms do work in a spoken tale that a printed sentence simply cannot perform.

Nineteenth-century collectors flattened a great deal of this on purpose, smoothing dialect into literary English for a reading public. The literary revival that followed, which drew on figures such as W. B. Yeats and his folklore-gathering circle, produced beautiful books and a permanent distance from how the material sounded.

Places in Ireland Work as Memory Anchors

Irish tradition has a whole category for this, dinnseanchas, the lore of places. A hill is not scenery; it is the reason a story is remembered. Tell someone the tale attached to a mound, and they can recall it every time they pass, which is exactly how an oral system stores things without paper. The ogham stones scattered across the south and west show the same instinct in carved form, marking a name onto a spot so it stays there.

Audio restores that link in a way a book cannot, because you can be standing at the site while you listen. That is the practical argument for these shows, and it is the one this article returns to at the end.

What the Diaspora Actually Hears

For listeners in Boston, Birmingham, Toronto or Melbourne, the appeal is not plot. It is accent. Hearing Irish storytelling from someone with a Clare or Connemara accent delivers a kind of cultural contact that a printed collection never manages, and it bypasses the plastic-shamrock version of Irishness that so much diaspora-facing content settles for.

ConnollyCove sees this pattern in the reading of pieces like its history of Irish settlement and heritage in Liverpool: people are looking for the specific, not the generic. A podcast gives them a named person from a named county, which is a far more honest connection than a shamrock ever was.

Irish Storytelling Podcasts That Perform the Myths

Three Irish storytelling podcasts treat the old tales as performance, with scripting, music and dramatic delivery. If you want the closest thing to sitting in a room while someone tells you a story, start with these rather than with an academic series.

Candlelit Tales: Myth with a Live Score

Candlelit Tales was founded by the brother and sister storytelling duo Aron and Sorcha Hegarty, and it began in an upstairs room of a Dublin pub with almost nobody in it. Episodes are recorded with original live music running underneath the narration, which is closer to how these tales would have been carried than a solo reading. Their long arcs through the mythological cycles cover the same ground as ConnollyCove’s guide to the Tuatha Dé Danann and their place in Irish myth.

Musicians are credited as part of the storytelling rather than as background, which is a deliberate choice. Anyone curious about the instruments involved will find context in ConnollyCove’s piece on the uilleann pipes and their sound.

Best entry point: any episode from the Second Battle of Moytura sequence.

Irish Mythology Podcast: Adaptation Plus Analysis

Written, presented and produced by Marcas Ó hUiscín and Stephanie Ní Thiarnaigh, this show splits each episode in two. First, a dramatic retelling, then a conversation about the manuscript sources the retelling came from, what the medieval scribes changed, and what modern readers tend to get wrong. The gods and figures they work through are profiled in ConnollyCove’s reference on the deities of ancient Ireland.

That second half is the reason to recommend it to anyone who wants to know where a story actually comes from rather than just how it ends.

Best entry point: the Lugh and Balor episodes.

Tell Me A Story with Eddie Lenihan: The Real Thing

Eddie Lenihan, born in Brosna, County Kerry in 1950 and long resident in Crusheen, County Clare, is one of the few working seanchaithe left in Ireland. He has spent decades collecting from people who had the stories first-hand, and his podcast, produced by Philip Murphy and John Lillis with music by Clare Sands, is him telling them. Much of his material concerns the Aos Sí and the rules around them, the same beliefs behind ConnollyCove’s account of the fairy trees still standing in Irish fields.

His episodes on wake customs are also unusually good on how Irish communities handled death, a subject ConnollyCove treats through the blessings spoken over the dead.

Best entry point: the Samhain episode, or the one on Biddy Early.

Archive, Land and Choosing Your Show

Two further Irish storytelling podcasts work from a different angle. Instead of performing the tales, they open up the archive and the country the tales describe. Between them and the three above, most listening preferences are covered.

Blúiríní Béaloidis: Straight from the National Folklore Collection

This is the official podcast of the National Folklore Collection at University College Dublin, launched in April 2017 and presented by archivist Jonny Dillon, originally alongside colleague Claire Doohan. Each episode takes a single theme- sacred trees, bees, wake games, the fairy faith- and works through what the archive holds on it. If you want to understand the belief system rather than the stories, ConnollyCove’s explanation of the fairy faith and the Otherworld pairs well with these episodes.

The tone is unhurried and genuinely scholarly without being closed off, and episodes routinely bring in curators and researchers from other Irish institutions.

The Almanac of Ireland: Language, Land and Loss

Manchán Magan presented this RTÉ series, produced by Colette Kinsella, and it took a wider swing than folklore alone: placenames, seasonal customs, ecology, odd corners of Gaelic society. Magan died on 2 October 2025 at the age of 55, and the back catalogue is now a closed body of work rather than an ongoing one. His seasonal episodes sit alongside ConnollyCove’s account of how Samhain was actually observed in Ireland.

Listeners should note that Listen to the Land Speak, the title most often attached to his name, is a book published in 2022 and a two-part RTÉ television documentary broadcast in July 2025. It is not a podcast, despite being listed as one in a number of round-ups.

Which Show Suits Which Listener

Use the table below rather than subscribing to all five at once, since these Irish storytelling podcasts differ genuinely in style and one will suit you far better than the others. Readers who came here through ConnollyCove’s guide to the monsters of Irish folklore will probably want the performance shows first.

PodcastPresentersStyleBest for
Candlelit TalesAron and Sorcha HegartyPerformed myth with live original musicListeners who want atmosphere and immersion
Irish Mythology PodcastMarcas Ó hUiscín, Stephanie Ní ThiarnaighDramatic retelling followed by source analysisListeners who want to know where the story came from
Tell Me A StoryEddie LenihanUnaccompanied fireside telling from field collectionListeners who want an actual seanchaí
Blúiríní BéaloidisJonny DillonThematic archive discussionListeners interested in belief systems and folk custom
The Almanack of IrelandManchán MaganEssayistic, language and land focusedListeners drawn to placenames and ecology

Listening on the Ground: An Audio Route Through Ireland

A mobile playing an Irish storytelling podcast sits on moss beside a candle, earphones, a Celtic stone, and a green diary with a pen. Tapping into Celtic folklore, the scene evokes the wisdom of Digital Shamans as a stream and greenery appear in the background.

The best use of Irish storytelling podcasts is to listen at the sites the stories name, which turns a stop on a driving route into something considerably stranger. Ireland’s mythological geography is dense enough that most regions have at least one episode’s worth of material attached to them.

Pairing Episodes with Real Places

The obvious pairings are the ones where the story and the site share a name. Listen to a Fionn mac Cumhaill episode before you reach the Antrim coast, where ConnollyCove covers the legend attached to the Giant’s Causeway, and the basalt columns stop being a geology exhibit.

For the west, sea-lore episodes work along the Sligo and Mayo coast, where the tales collected in ConnollyCove’s piece on selkies and the seal-people of the Atlantic shore were still being told within living memory.

“We drove out to a ringfort in Clare with an Eddie Lenihan episode playing, one of the ones where the farmer interferes with a fort and regrets it. Standing in a field looking at a circle of thorn bushes while a man from the next parish explains why nobody has touched them since 1940 is a different experience to reading a plaque. That is the argument for doing this with your headphones in.”, Ciaran Connolly, Founder of ConnollyCove

Finding Live Storytelling When You Visit

Recorded audio is a way in, not a substitute. The Cape Clear Island International Storytelling Festival runs each September on Ireland’s southernmost inhabited island, off Baltimore in West Cork, and 2026 marks its thirty-second year. Tellers from Ireland and abroad perform in halls, pubs and outdoors over three days.

Beyond the festivals, story and song still travel together in session pubs, and a good session will often stop for a recitation. ConnollyCove’s guide to where to find live traditional music in Belfast covers the northern end of that circuit.

For the west, the session pubs of Galway city are the obvious starting point, and Irish storytelling still surfaces in them more often than the tourist brochures suggest.

Behaving Yourself at the Sites

Two rules cover most of it. Ringforts, fairy trees and lone thorns on farmland are on private property and are still, for a lot of families, not to be interfered with, so ask before you cross a gate and do not tie anything to a tree because you saw it in a video. Museums and heritage centres, including the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum at Cultra, are the right places for a closer look at how these households actually lived.

The second rule concerns the language. If you are repeating a phrase you heard on a podcast, get it right rather than approximately right, and ConnollyCove’s collection of seanfhocail and their meanings is a reasonable starting point for anyone who wants to.

Where to Go From Here

Irish storytelling never needed rescuing, only a format that could carry a voice. Five Irish storytelling podcasts, one archive at University College Dublin and a September festival off the Cork coast are enough to get anyone started, and the sites themselves are open to anyone who arrives with the right story already in their ears. For more on the traditions behind these tales, explore ConnollyCove’s guides to Irish farewell blessings and when to use them.

FAQs

What is the difference between a seanchaí and a scéalaí?

A seanchaí kept the local material: genealogy, place-lore, cures and the history of the townland. A scéalaí recited the long heroic and wonder-tales, often taking a whole evening over one story. Both sat below the filí, the trained professional poets of the old Gaelic order.

How do you pronounce seanchaí?

Seanchaí is pronounced roughly “shan-a-khee”, with the final syllable close to the “ch” in the Scottish word loch rather than a hard k. The plural, seanchaithe, is “shan-a-kih-eh”. It comes from seanchas, meaning old lore or tradition.

Who is Ireland’s best-known living storyteller?

Eddie Lenihan, born in County Kerry in 1950 and based in Crusheen, County Clare. He is one of the few practising seanchaithe left, has published more than twenty books, and presents the Tell Me A Story podcast drawn from decades of his own field collecting.

Are Irish folklore podcasts based on real historical sources?

The good ones are. Blúiríní Béaloidis works directly from the National Folklore Collection at University College Dublin. Irish Mythology Podcast cites the medieval manuscript versions in each episode. Eddie Lenihan tells material he collected himself from named people.

Which Irish storytelling podcast should a beginner start with?

Candlelit Tales, if you want the myths performed with music and minimal background knowledge required. Irish Mythology Podcast, if you would rather have the story and then an explanation of where it came from. Both assume no prior familiarity.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *