Banshee Mixtapes: A Comparative Folklore Study of Irish Banshees and Operation Wandering Soul

 

Folklore has often been positioned as a residue of the past, a collection of inherited stories and beliefs gradually eroded by the forces of modernity. Yet such a view underestimates the continued vitality and adaptability of vernacular traditions. Rather than disappearing, folklore persists within modern contexts, reshaped and repurposed to address contemporary anxieties, identities, and forms of power. As Diarmaid Ó Giolláin argues, vernacular traditions in modern societies “bestowed an authenticity and an antiquity…to root newer and larger collectivities at a time when traditional collective identities were crumbling” (O’Giolláin, 2013, p. 83). In this sense, folklore becomes not only a cultural inheritance but a resource that can be mobilised, reinterpreted and weaponised.

This essay examines this process through a comparative folklore analysis of Irish banshee traditions and Vietnamese beliefs surrounding wandering souls, particularly as they were appropriated during the Vietnam War. Drawing on theories of somatic knowledge, sound, and modernity, it explores how these belief systems function not merely as narratives but as embodied, affective forms of knowing. Somatic knowledge is understood as the body’s capacity to register safety, danger, and emotional intensity through sensation (Gherman, ND, p. 1) and provides a crucial framework for understanding why such beliefs retain power even in  modern contexts.

I will argue that both Banshee folklore and Vietnamese wandering soul traditions operate as systems of somatic and affective knowledge, rooted in experiences of death, mourning, and social rupture. Furthermore, I will demonstrate that modern institutions, from nationalist movements to military psychological operations, don’t eradicate these systems but instead appropriate and reconfigure them. Seeing the banshee as a sonic and social figure and comparing it to the weaponisation of wandering soul beliefs in wartime Vietnam (C. 1972-73). Ultimately I wish to argue that folklore remains deeply embedded within modernity, functioning as both a site of cultural continuity and a tool of modern power.

 Not to be treated as a static archive of past beliefs, folklore is as an active and adaptive system of meaning. As Ó Giolláin suggests, vernacular traditions gain renewed importance in modern contexts precisely because they offer continuity in times of social fragmentation (2013, p. 83). This makes them particularly susceptible to reinterpretation and instrumentalisation.

Central to this essay is the concept of somatic knowledge. According to Gherman, “our bodies have their own form of knowledge…experienced as a sense of constriction or expansion, pain or ease” (ND, p. 1). Such responses are not purely cognitive but emerge through embodied processes such as fear, grief, and anticipation. These responses can also be triggered unconsciously, as “fight, flight, freeze responses emerge automatically…based on real or perceived danger” (Gherman, ND, p. 1). This framework is particularly relevant to folklore traditions that rely on sound, atmosphere, and emotional intensity, such as the Banshee’s wail or the recorded crying used in psyops in modern warfare. 

Methodologically, this essay adopts a comparative folklore approach. As Richard Dorson outlines, comparative folklore examines narratives “in many lands” in order to identify shared structures and cultural variations (Dorson, 1963, pp. 93–94). While Dorson’s model has been critiqued for its emphasis on diffusion, it remains useful here as a framework for identifying structural parallels, especially in how different cultures conceptualise death, mourning, and the persistence of the dead.

In developing this comparison, this essay also proposes the banshee as a conceptual metaphor through which to understand the dynamics of sonic psychological warfare. By foregrounding the Banshee’s role as a disembodied, affective voice that produces embodied responses of fear and anticipation, it becomes possible to reframe modern sonic warfare not as a technological rupture, but as an extension of pre-existing acoustic logics. In this way, the argument moves beyond simple comparison to suggest that practices such as the “Wandering Soul” broadcasts do not merely exploit belief, but replicate and intensify the same somatic mechanisms through which figures like the Banshee already operate.

Banshee 

The Banshee (bean sí) is a figure in Irish folklore understood primarily as a supernatural death-messenger, whose appearance or cry signals an impending death within a particular family. As described in oral tradition, she “gives warning of death” and her presence is treated with seriousness, even dread (Lenihan, 2022). Her keening is not simply symbolic but affective, producing visceral responses in those who hear it, often described as a sound that “gave you the shivers” (Lenihan, 2022).

The Irish Banshee functions as a powerful figure within vernacular understandings of death, operating not merely as a supernatural entity but as a deeply affective and embodied presence. As described in oral accounts collected by Eddie Lenihan, the Banshee “gives warning of death” (Lenihan, 2022), marking her as a liminal figure situated between life and death. Her presence is not symbolic in a detached sense, but immediate. Lenihan describes meeting her as visceral, an encounter with her is “a serious matter…cause who was she crying for? Maybe yourself” (Lenihan, 2022).This suddenness to the encounter is important for looking at how somatic knowledge is logged by the human mind. The Banshee’s cry is consistently described as producing a bodily reaction: “the kind of cry that gave you the shivers” (Lenihan, 2022). Such responses align closely with the concept of somatic knowledge. The fear elicited by the b#Banshee is not simply intellectual but embodied, triggering instinctive reactions tied to mortality and vulnerability. This positions the Banshee not just as a narrative figure but as an experiential phenomenon.

Patricia Lysaght’s work further contextualises the Banshee within Irish mourning practices. She notes that traditional laments often lack reference to Christian afterlife frameworks, instead portraying death as “an outrage…accompanied by displays of grief considered to be ‘immoderate’” (Lysaght, 1997, p. 67). This emphasis on emotional excess and disruption situates the Banshee within a pre- or extra-Christian framework of death, one that prioritises loss and rupture over spiritual resolution.The sonic qualities of the Banshee are particularly significant. Her cry is described as “wordless…outside the signifying order of language” and “in a sense, chaotic” (Lysaght, 1997, p. 40). This places the Banshee’s voice beyond rational discourse, aligning it with affective and somatic registers rather than semantic meaning. The comparison of her cry to that of a “wild animal” further emphasises its primal, instinctive nature (Lysaght, 1997, p. 40). In this sense, the Banshee operates as a form of acoustic knowledge, communicating through sensation rather than language.

The figure also intersects with gendered social structures. The Banshee embodies “wildness and disorder” and occupies a space outside normative social roles (Lysaght, 1997, p. 40). As Kimpton observes, her position “outside” the household contrasts with the constrained mobility of rural Irish women (1993, p. 43). This spatial and social marginality allows the Banshee to express what cannot be articulated within normative structures. Indeed, the tradition may “communicate subversive messages about the position of women” (Lysaght, 1997, p. 39).Lenihan’s anecdote of a father using a Banshee encounter as a cautionary tale for his son further illustrates the adaptability of the tradition. Here, the Banshee is mobilised within a narrative promoting modern education over traditional labour, demonstrating how folklore can be repurposed to reinforce shifting social values. The supernatural encounter becomes a pedagogical tool, aligning with Ó Giolláin’s argument that folklore serves as a resource in periods of social change.

Taken together, these elements position the Banshee as a nexus of somatic, social, and symbolic meaning. Her cry operates as a trigger for embodied responses; her presence reflects tensions around gender, mortality, and social order; and her narratives demonstrate the adaptability of folklore within modern contexts. This understanding of the Banshee as a form of somatic and acoustic knowledge provides a crucial bridge to the Vietnamese context, where similar mechanisms of affect and sound are mobilised under radically different conditions.

Wandering Souls 

Vietnamese beliefs surrounding wandering souls similarly centre on the consequences of improper death and the persistence of the dead within the living world. As noted in accounts of psychological operations, “if a person is improperly buried, then their soul wanders constantly” (Friedman, 2014, p. 1). This belief reflects a broader cosmology in which the dead remain socially and spiritually active, particularly when rituals of burial and mourning are disrupted.

During the Vietnam War, these beliefs were explicitly targeted and weaponised through operations such as the so-called “Wandering Soul” broadcasts. These recordings simulated the voices of the dead, urging soldiers to return home or face eternal unrest. One such recording features a voice lamenting: “My friends, I come back to let you know that I am dead…It was a senseless death” (Friedman, 2014, p. 1). The emotional intensity of these messages mirrors the affective power of traditional laments, transforming cultural beliefs into tools of psychological warfare.

Steve Goodman’s concept of “sonic warfare” provides a useful framework for analysing these practices. He argues that while the technologies may be modern, “the sonic dimensions of conflict are ancient” (Goodman, 2009, p. 5). Sound operates not merely as communication but as a force capable of shaping mood, perception, and behaviour. In the case of the “Wandering Soul” operation, sound was used to trigger somatic responses of fear, anxiety, anticipation and by tapping into culturally embedded beliefs.Goodman further notes that such tactics are effective because they engage both memory and anticipation, blending “a sound triggering a memory of another sonic time and place” with imagined futures (2009, p. 151). This resonates with the temporal dynamics of haunting, where past and present coexist. The voices of the dead are not simply reminders of loss but active presences that shape current experience.

Importantly, these operations did not rely on ignorance. As Friedman notes, soldiers often recognised the artificial source of the sounds but were nonetheless affected by them, as they prompted reflection on their own potential fate (2014, p. 5). This highlights the role of somatic knowledge: even when cognitively dismissed, the affective impact remains.

The deployment of “Wandering Soul” broadcasts can be understood more precisely through Goodman’s account of sonic warfare as the manipulation of affect through the modulation of acoustic environments. Goodman emphasises that contemporary sound systems, composed of “bodies, technologies, and acoustic vibrations” operating “in rhythmic sympathy”, are deployed strategically in “a war of mood, sensation, and information” (Goodman, 2009, p. 5). Within this framework, the U.S. military’s use of recorded ghost voices represents not simply psychological trickery, but a targeted engagement with what Goodman describes as the “ambivalence” of sonic force, which can both attract and repel, soothe and destabilise (2009, p. 11). Crucially, these tactics do not rely on volume alone; rather, they operate through the careful triggering of culturally embedded sonic memories and anticipatory fears.

This is particularly evident in Goodman’s discussion of the shift from crude sonic intimidation, such as high-decibel “curdler” systems, to more affectively nuanced strategies like the “Wandering Ghost” broadcasts, which aimed to “conquer…[the] true heart with deep vibrations” (Goodman, 2009, pp. 15–16). By simulating the voices of the dead within a culturally specific cosmology, these recordings activated what Goodman elsewhere describes as the coexistence of past and present within sonic experience, where sound can trigger both memory and imagined futurity simultaneously (2009, p. 151). The effectiveness of these operations, therefore, lies not in deception alone, but in their ability to embed themselves within an existing somatic and temporal framework, producing what might be understood as an engineered haunting.

Heonik Kwon provides a broader cultural context for these beliefs. He observes that many Vietnamese people believe “the ghosts of violent and tragic death…abound in their living environment” (Kwon, 2008, p. 10). These beliefs persist despite state efforts to suppress “ideas and practices to do with ghosts” (Kwon, 2008, p. 11), demonstrating the resilience of vernacular cosmologies.The Vietnamese case thus illustrates how folklore can be appropriated within modern systems of power, particularly through the manipulation of sound and affect. The parallels with the Banshee are striking: in both cases, sound operates as a medium of communication between the living and the dead, bypassing rational discourse to engage the body directly.

The comparison between Banshee traditions and Vietnamese wandering soul beliefs reveals not only structural similarities but also important differences. While the Banshee operates primarily within a communal and familial context, the wandering soul becomes a figure of mass trauma and displacement, particularly in the context of war. This reflects broader differences in historical and social conditions, yet both traditions demonstrate how folklore encodes responses to death and disruption.

The key significance of this analysis lies in its implications for understanding modernity. Rather than displacing folklore, modern systems, whether nationalist movements or military operations, actively engage with and repurpose it. This challenges the notion of a clear divide between tradition and modernity, suggesting instead a continuous process of adaptation and reconfiguration.Moreover, the role of somatic knowledge highlights the importance of embodiment in these processes. Folklore operates not only through narrative but through sensation, affect, and atmosphere. This has implications for contemporary media and art, particularly in how sound and emotion are used to evoke responses.

This essay has adopted a comparative approach, drawing on Dorson’s framework while remaining attentive to cultural specificity. The use of ethnographic and folkloric sources alongside theoretical texts reflects an attempt to balance empirical detail with conceptual analysis.

The focus on somatic knowledge provides a unifying framework, allowing for the comparison of seemingly disparate traditions through their shared emphasis on embodied experience. The selection of sources, particularly Kwon and Goodman, was guided by their ability to bridge cultural context and theoretical insight.

This essay has argued that Banshee traditions and Vietnamese wandering soul beliefs function as systems of somatic and affective knowledge, deeply embedded within cultural understandings of death and mourning. Through a comparative analysis, it has demonstrated that these traditions are not relics of the past but active and adaptable frameworks that persist within modern contexts. The appropriation of wandering soul beliefs during the Vietnam War illustrates the extent to which folklore can be instrumentalised within modern systems of power. Similarly, the continued relevance and reinterpretation of the Banshee within Irish contexts highlights the adaptability of vernacular traditions. In both cases, sound emerges as a crucial medium, capable of triggering embodied responses that bypass rational cognition.

Ultimately, this analysis challenges the notion that modernity entails the disappearance of folklore. Instead, it suggests that folklore remains a vital and dynamic component of modern life, capable of being reshaped, reinterpreted, and, in some cases, weaponised. By foregrounding the role of somatic knowledge, emphasising the importance of embodiment in understanding these processes, highlighting the ways in which folklore is entangled with modern lives across cultures. In a way  this argument hopefully created a metaphor out of the idea of the Banshee as a way to think about sonic psychological warfare. 

Bibliography

1. Dorson, R.M. (1963) ‘Current Folklore Theories’, Current Anthropology, 4(1), pp. 93–112.

2. Friedman, H.A. (2014) The Wandering Soul – Vietnam psychological operations (PSYOP). Available at: https://medicinthegreentime.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/WANDERING-SOULS-PSYOPS.pdf (Accessed: 20/03/2026).

3. Gherman, W. (ND) Somatic awareness for resiliency during difficult moments. Ohio State University Extension. Available at: https://marion.osu.edu/sites/marion/files/imce/Somatic%20Awareness%20for%20Resiliency%20in%20Difficult%20Moments.pdf (Accessed: 20/03/2026).

4. Goodman, S. (2009) Sonic warfare : sound, affect, and the ecology of fear. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press.

5. Kimpton, B. N. (1993). “Blow the House down”: Coding, the Banshee, and Woman’s Place. Proceedings of the Harvard Celtic Colloquium, 13, 39–48.

6. Kwon, H. (2008) Ghosts of War in Vietnam. Studies in the Social and Cultural History of Modern Warfare, 27. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

7. Lenihan, E, (2022), "The Banshee", Tell me a Story With Eddie Lenihan,  [Podcast], 31 August, Available at: https://share.google/Ce9mwCLwQcAVYgXOC 

8. Lysaght, P, (1997), The Banshee: The Irish Death Messenger

9. Ó Giolláin, D. (2013) ‘Myths of nation? Vernacular traditions in modernity’, Nordic Irish Studies, 12, pp. 79–94. Published by Dalarna University Centre for Irish Studies.