With modern day Chinese whispers finding a global market through the internet, urban
myth expert Stephen Sayers tells Sarah Freeman why fiction is
far often stranger than fact.
SHORTLY before finding a nest of spiders had set up home in his ear, a friend of a friend lost the body of his dead granny on the way back from France and woke up one morning after a night of passion with a stranger to find his kidney has been sold on the black market.
While scientific advances may have explained many workings of the world through sure-fire facts, universal equations and irrefutable theories, in the land of the urban myth, the home of the man with no name, rational thought and logical reasoning are
still very much barred.
"In many ways myths and legends are even more important in today's society," says Stephen Sayers, whose official title is head of social sciences at Leeds Metropolitan University, but who is also known by the more informal title of urban myth collector. "They replace the sense of mystery which has been lost through the decline in organised religion and the rise of science. People are not any more rational than they once were, but the world is and they need an outlet for their imagination.
"Many urban myths rely on cruelty or horrific situations, but at the same time it's often something which is not wholly unbelievable. The stories give you a sense of being on the edge of your chair because you feel it could happen to you. It's the same reason we pay money to go see films which we know are disturbing and frightening, the truth is we enjoy being scared."
While the modern day locations and familiar situations of urban myths may imply this is a new phenomenon, more often than not they
are simply reworkings of ancient tales brought up-to-date for the 21st-century generation.
"Once it would be people kidnapped and taken away for examination by fairies, now it's aliens – it's the same tale under a different guise," says Stephen, who admits he has been fascinated by folklore since a child, but only started getting paid for it in the 1980s. "Often it's easy to spot an urban myth through the recurring motifs.
"For example there is an ancient tale of how a stage coach was travelling from Durham to Leeds when its passengers spotted an old lady at the side of the road and feeling sorry for her decided to give her a lift.
"All was fine until one of them noticed she had a large and hairy hand. The party became increasingly perturbed and their fears that they had given up a seat to a highwayman in disguise were confirmed when their fellow traveller departed leaving behind a parcel full of muskets.
"The same tale emerged again during the time of the Yorkshire Ripper. This time it was a woman who gave a lift to a little old lady. She too saw the large hairy hand and becoming suspicious stopped at a garage and asked her strange passenger to get out so she could check the tyre pressure before quickly driving off. It was widely believed to be the serial killer in disguise."
While familiar stories may re-emerge as regular as proverbial clockwork, recent world events have provided a rich source of new material.
Following September 11, tales which trod the fine line between conspiracy theory and urban myth circulated the internet, with many believing reports the head of the devil could be seen in the smoke rising from the World Trade Centre wreckage, that the only thing to be salvaged from the hijacked plane which crashed into the Pentagon was a copy of the Bible and of a man who repaid the kindness of a Good Samaritan with a warning about future attacks.
"The original story was that a student getting into a taxi noticed the previous passenger had left behind his wallet," says Stephen. "He chased after him, returned the wallet and as he did the mysterious man told him to avoid a certain city on a certain day.
"It gradually got changed into a man at supermarket who found he didn't have enough money. When the customer behind him stepped in and offered him some change they were given the same warning.
"Every time there's a big disaster you find urban myths, conspiracy theories and hoaxes flooding the internet. In some ways they allow people to confirm their fears and suspicions and certainly the web has given them an impetus they didn't have before. This particular one I first heard from a friend who emailed me from New Zealand and it spread incredibly quickly, so much so that I was wheeled out on television to try to allay people's fears.
"I admire the imagination of whoever is making them up, it must be a full-time job."
Few have succeeded in tracing the original sources and while some even more obsessed than Stephen have attempted to start a myth in Brisbane and get it to travel to New York, the experiments always fail, for like the very best Chinese whispers, once born they are impossible to control.
"They are like a virus," says Stephen. "But trying to predict where they will end up is impossible, they really do have a life of their own.
"Having said that there are cases of life imitating art. There is a very famous urban myth of a friend of a friend who tried to dry her cat in the microwave which led to a spate of copycat incidents by drunken youths. It was a case of myth becoming reality."
Occasional unfortunate incidents aside, urban myths help satisfy our need for gossip, indulge our love of the distasteful and in a world where there seems to be more bad news than good more often than not they also raise a smile.
"My favourite is possibly the surprise birthday urban myth," says Stephen. "It's a friend of a friend's 50th birthday, his family don't say anything to him in the morning and no one says anything to him throughout the day, until his secretary asks him out to lunch to celebrate.
"Afterwards she invites him back to her place and tells him she's going to change into something more comfortable. Thinking his luck's in, he strips off and awaits for her return. Unfortunately when the lights are switched on he is stood stark naked in front of his family and friends.
"It's not beyond comprehension that something like
that could happen,
although I'd like to make it clear it has never happened to me."
sarah.freeman@ypn.co.uk