The tale of the Lyminster Knucker has settled into a narrative of a threatening but not too bright monster vanquished by a plucky lad possessed of a ready wit and a poisoned pie. Etymology, which was once used to indicate the Knucker’s hellish origins, is now routinely called upon to prove that the tradition is an Anglo-Saxon survival. Yet the story as we know it is far from ancient and definitive, being first set down less than a century ago. Environmentalists and pagans have adopted the creature as a symbol and a guardian of the landscape, and a couple of neighbouring villages have duly laid claim to a Knucker of their own. Its defeat has been interpreted as a metaphor for the taming of the riverine landscape in which it is said to dwell, and re-enacted with a seventy-foot long carnival figure of papier-mâché and cloth on Brighton beach.