The man in the cell is gone the next morning and Essie receives a visit from the prison warden that turns into a sexual encounter. The ensuing pregnancy gets her another commutation of transportation and Essie winds up being indentured to a Virginia tobacco farmer. She nurses his infant child along with hers and tells them the same wee-folk tales her gran told her. Meanwhile in the present, Sweeney’s freezing his lucky charms off because Laura’s cranked up the ice cream truck’s refrigeration to stave off further decomposition. As they drive, he talks about a past moment in his centuries-long life where he had a premonition of an seemingly inevitable death on the field of battle. He says he owes a battle and that’s why he’s doing what Wednesday wants. Then Laura suddenly swerves to avoid hitting a rabbit and the truck topples over and crashes, splitting her stitches open and sending the lucky gold coin flying out of her body.

Advertisement

Another scene shift goes back to Essie and we see her work her hustle on the tobacco farmer. He ends her indenture, proposes to her, and they get married. As time passes, they have another child and the leprechaun tradition continues but her husband dies. She becomes a grandmother and keeps telling tales but stops when they scare her grandchildren. The old ways stay alive in her heart and when it’s her time, the familiar voice of Mad Sweeney wakes her up from sleeping on the porch.

In the present, Sweeney crawls out from the wreck and walks over to Laura’s lifeless body. He stands over the still corpse, caught up in a reverie that flashes back to the accident that caused Laura’s first death. Sweeney’s standing over a dead Laura here, too, and talks to Wednesday’s raven, saying the bird needs to tell his master “it’s done.” Back in the present, Sweeney struggles with a mix of guilt, rage, and shame. Screaming angrily in his ancient tongue and folding a flap of skin back, he places the coin back onto Laura’s flesh and it melts it way back inside. She punches him as soon as she wakes up, flips the truck back to rights, and they drive away.

Advertisement

The episode’s last scene shows Sweeney talking to an aged Essie, explaining how he isn’t what he was back home and that she’s one of the few who still believes in his kind. This exchange happens...

Essie: You have done me many a good turn.

Sweeney: Good and ill, we’re like the wind. We blow both ways.

...and Sweeney takes her hand to lead her into the hereafter, marking the end of the episode.

Advertisement

Shadow and Wednesday’s absence were deeply felt in this episode, but “Prayer for Mad Sweeney” might be the sweetest episode of the show. It called on a familiar romanticism that Americans tend to wrap around the older ideas of Ireland and Britain and undercut them with harsh glimpses at the ugliness that was there as well. My biggest grip with this chapter of American Gods is with linking Essie McGowan to Laura Moon; it’s a cute bit of casting but is a conceit that feels too mismatched and heavy-handed. Essie did ethically compromised things to survive and live the life she wanted, while Laura had better options she never availed herself of.

Advertisement

Sweeney’s quick mention of how Mother Church turned the pagan folktales into stories of saints was one of my favorite parts of this episode, because it ties into the cycle that Wednesday is fighting against. The fact that Sweeney’s seen this song and dance before goes a long way to explaining why he doesn’t want to be down with Wednesday’s war but why he feels he has balance the scales. The strapping leprechaun calls himself honest and “Prayer for Mad Sweeney” shows how he defines that: For every time that he’s given a kindness, he pays one back. Even when he grabs a popsicle from the ice cream truck’s freezer, he tosses a few gold coins on the side of the road. He may be a jerk at all possible times but he operates on principles of parity. He can’t take what’s not given freely and it’s the reason he wouldn’t force the coin from Laura two episodes back.

This episode makes another mention of the King of America concept that’s been cropping up throughout this first season. Multiple characters have talked about how America either doesn’t have one or how a person could wind up in that station. It’s likely that this imaginary monarch title is the reason Shadow is so important to Wednesday and what the new gods are fighting against.

Advertisement

Assorted Musings:

• I love the domestic partner vibe between Mr. Ibis and Jacquel in the early parts of this episode. They felt like a well-established tandem working familiar rhythms around each other, like an old married couple or vaudeville performers who’ve toured for ages.

Advertisement

• The juxtaposition of 1950s doo-wop with the 18th sequences was great but I definitely winced when “Daddy’s Home” started playing when Essie and Farmer Henderson were consummating their marriage.