The Spiritual Function of Myth

A conversation with Martin Shaw plus two announcements

Orpheus leading Eurydice from the underworld. A painting by Edward Poynter (1862).

There is one film I have watched more than any other — well over a dozen times. Admittedly, most of those viewings probably happened in my teenage years, but I’d happily watch it again tonight without the need for any persuading. The film is called The Commitments, and it follows the endeavours of a young man — Jimmy Rabbitte — as he tries to piece together a soul band in 1990s poverty-stricken Dublin.

It’s hilarious, the music is great, and no doubt my younger self was thrilled at being allowed to watch a film with so much swearing. But the reason it had such an impact on me was the deeper mythos that animated the story. The film is about one man’s attempt to summon transcendence from the grit of everyday life — not through escape, but through soul.

Soul music becomes a kind of secular sacrament — a raw and defiant way to claim dignity, power, and connection. Jimmy is like a modern bard or trickster, conjuring a vision, assembling something out of nothing. The band rises briefly into harmony before it inevitably falls apart – but the point was never lasting success. The point was that for a moment, something beautiful was made. In this way, the film becomes a kind of Orphic tale: the artist who draws something luminous from a world weighed down by struggle — even if only for a fleeting moment.

This is the power of myth. It touches the eternal within the fleeting, revealing that the dramas of ordinary life are also the dramas of the soul. And in a world as uncertain and chaotic as ours, myths offer a way to orient to life, to reality, and to better understand what we are being called to.

Which brings me to the conversation that follows — with writer, mythologist, and master storyteller Martin Shaw. Together, we explore where his love of story began, how myth shaped his imagination as a child, and how it returned with deeper resonance during the struggles of early adulthood. We talk about the spiritual function of myth and its power to orient us toward service, meaning, and a life of greater depth. Martin speaks to how myth helps move us from “I” to “we,” and how, in its absence, we often reach for more toxic substitutes — like nationalism or the numbing nihilism of digital distraction.

Along the way, we touch on heroism, humility, faith, the seductions of modern life, and the need for beauty and mercy. Martin offers rich and wide-ranging insights about what it means to live mythically and to become more fully human in a fragmented world. You can listen to the full conversation below.

But before you do, two announcements to share:

First, the deadline to apply for the Realisation Fellowship is midnight tomorrow – 15 April 2025. If you’re aged 18–35 and feel drawn to join a community of peers committed to getting real, becoming real, and making real, this year-long inquiry might be for you. The Fellowship includes a funded place at the Realisation Festival. You can learn more and apply by clicking here.

Second, I’m pleased to share that the full programme for this year’s Realisation Festival is now live. Martin Shaw will join us as one of our keynote speakers, alongside Vanessa Andreotti and Sarah Wilson. We’ll also have workshops and discoveries by Indra Adnan, Jyoti Banerjee, Dominique Savitri Bonarjee, Vanessa Chamberlin, Rowan Cobelli, Jacob Kishere, Juliette Otterburn Hall, Elizabeth Oldfield, Benedict Pollard, Roc Sandford and myself. And finally music, improvisation and laughter will be provided by the Realisation Players and the first night will kick off with a ceilidh with music provided by the Ceilidh Tree.

Tickets are going quickly, so if you’re hoping to join us, now’s a good time to make your plans. As Martin shares at the end of our conversation, “gathering together is one of the most archaic values we have,” so we’d be delighted to see you there.

Here’s the conversation with Martin:

With warmth,
Michael Bready, Associate Director, Perspectiva