The Day of Saints - Day 10, Senara

St Senara in stained glass, Zennor Church

The village of Zennor is situated on the coast road between St Just and St Ives. A piece of trivia is that alphabetically, the parish is the last in Britain. Its name comes from the Cornish name for the local saint, St Senara. Very little is known about Senara, and aspects of her tradition seem to overlap with Greek myth and tall tales (tails, perhaps!) of mermaids.

The Mermaid's Chair - St Senara's Church, Zennor

Senara was one of the first saints that I thought of writing about as her story, such as it is, seemed one in which she was ill-treated and pushed around.

It is sometimes claimed Senera was the same person as a Breton princess known as Asenora. She was a devout Christian but after marrying a Breton king, her new pagan mother-in-law disliked the influence she was having over her son and she set out to destroy Senara. When Senara became pregnant, the mother claimed to her son, the king, that his wife had been unfaithful, bring to him faked evidence. The king chose to believe his mother, and although Senara protested her innocence, the order was given that she be nailed into a barrel and thrown into the sea. Later in the tale, with the child having been born mid-voyage, depending on which version is followed, Senara and the boy are washed up on the coast and she founds a church at Zennor. She is subsequently exonerated.

Foaming waters churning at the foot of the cliffs near Botallack.

I can see Senara's story would lend itself to lots of contemporary reworkings, but I have chosen here a simple theme, concerned with how we are defined in our own, or other's eyes. Like all these poems, it will likely be revised or reworked in the weeks ahead.

FOR SENARA

I Am No Mermaid

I am no mermaid, no princess, no saint,

I am not Danaë, not Asenora, nor the wife of Trewhella,

No. I am Senara.

I am no possession, no pushover, no 'got-you-over-a-barrel',

I am no mistress, no harlot, no casual 'loose woman',

No. I am Senara.

I am not flotsam, or jetsam, or driftwood, all at sea,

I am not stowaway, not a castaway, not left-for-dead,

No. I am Senara.

I am not stained glass, I am not carved wood, I am not tapestry,

I am not a hymn theme, or poem line, or a bookmark for the bards,

No. I am Senara.

I am no legend, no myth, nor folk tale,

I am not your content, your distinctive selling point, your patron, even,

I am not what you would make of me, but I am still what I was made to be,

For I am more, and I am known, and I am Senara.

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Coffee was then taken at the Chapel Cafe, previously a Methodist place of worship in the village.