I have some educational background in mythology, so I'll usually give anything Illiad or Odyssey themed a chance. I'm a fan of Greek myths because they're so varied: Greek deities of all levels are a tapestry of virtues and flaws that more accurately reflect the capriciousness of an immortal being's attention to humans. I also (right or wrong) tend toward being a terrible book snob, and I know it. My reading list is long, and I'm picky, so I don't waste time anymore on books that don't meet high expectations right away. If I'm not hooked by the end of the second chapter, I will have zero remorse about setting a book aside and moving on. Circe hooked me on page one.
If you don't recall the backstory, Circe is the sorceress on an island in the Aegean who turns Odysseus' men to pigs and has a year-long affair with the Greek hero before sending him back to Ithaca. Retellings the Odysseus myth vary in the treatment of Circe: sometimes she's a benevolent being who treats his men unfairly and is convinced to be nice by falling in love with the hero. Sometimes she's a wicked and powerful witch, terrifying in her malicious treatment of men after gaining a reputation of turning them into pigs, until Odysseus "tames" her.
Miller's retelling is the biography of a minor goddess, daughter of Helios (the Titan who is literally the sun in the sky) and one of Oceanus's (Titan of...you guessed it, the Ocean) daughters, a nymph. In this version, Circe is the unremarkable and emotionally abused sibling of her sister and two brothers, all of whom go on to do relatively famous deeds. Circe is portrayed as being too naive and too trusting of her family, and is abused for having zero power. Even her voice is considered horrid; she's often told to be quiet because of the tonal quality. Her voice sounds more human than immortal, and it's grating to immortal ears. In every way, Circe's "childhood", or perhaps more accurately her first few hundred years, is an exercise in making her as invisible as possible.
It is in her loneliness that she turns to the friendship of a mortal sailor. She falls in love and wants to find a way to stay together, and turns to forbidden secret herbs rumored to be magic. The resulting mess reveals her for what she is: a witch. A woman without specific magical powers who can gain non-divine power through knowledge, learning, and herbs provided by Gaia herself. Being neither Titan nor Olympian in her power, Circe is considered an unknown, and therefore a threat, by Zeus. When she publicly admits her witchcraft and abilities, she becomes the witch scapegoat: banished forever to her island while her siblings, who posses the same powers, become famous in their own ways.
Madeline Miller does an excellent job of creating a general attitude of casual dismissal of humanity by the the Olympians, Titans, and other immortals. They are as capricious, selfish, and callous as one might think a being who becomes bored over millennia could be. Circe, then, is set up from the beginning as an outsider simply by carrying something the rest of her family don't have at all: an air of humanity. I love this character. I love that over the course of the book she experiences every human emotion a woman can feel and learns to exert her independence and power for herself as she grows. Circe is not a fully formed "perfect" being like the rest of the immortals: she learns, suffers, and grows over time. She is not content to just be the mousy outcast her family of origin paint her to be.
Circe's circumstances aren't those of the mythic hero, out of touch with the reader's experience: she yearns for companionship, love, family, and friendship. Yet because she's immortal, she also touches other myths both surrounding the fall of Troy, Daedalus and Icarus, Scylla and Charybdis, the Golden Fleece, the Minotaur, and many others. Even in her isolation, Circe's world has a vastness beyond her little island and helps the reader with some sense of time. News of the world is cleverly brought to Circe via an ongoing casual affair with Hermes, the Messenger God who stops in occasionally for a gossip-and-sex visit.
Miller's writing is utterly enjoyable. She's lyrical in a way that ties Circe to the feel of other Greek myths. In relating the death of Daedalus, Circe says: "I had no right to claim him, I knew it. But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me." (Circe, Hachette Books, 2018) Every time I read that line, I get goosebumps. That's a rare thing for me, and I love Madeline Miller for it.
The Odysseus tale occurs about midway through the book, which is fitting considering her year with him is only a blip in an eternity for Circe. That year has lasting consequences, however, and some interesting twists as time passes. Miller's portrayal of the sailors, Odysseus, and their relationship is so much more human than the myth. It's wonderful, and it sets the stage for the final third of the story with multiple threads that tie together later.
You'd think covering so long a life would become tedious, but Circe's journey from the outcast nymph to powerful sorceress to...well, without spoilers I can say the satisfying resolution of her tale... is absolutely captivating. I was engrossed. I'll re-read this often.
Showing posts with label Mythic Monday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mythic Monday. Show all posts
Saturday, July 28, 2018
Sunday, March 13, 2016
The Moral of the Story: Never Enter A Battle Of Wits with a Welsh Grandma?
Not all myths are heroic journeys or great love stories. Sometimes, a simple scene houses a battle of wits. And sometimes, the small battles have long consequences. I found this while looking up a town in Wales because of a Netflix show. I do adore wise woman tales.
A thousand years ago, the Devil decided to visit Wales, because in all his time on Earth and in Hell he'd never visited that corner of the world. Rumor had it, the country was beautiful, and the Devil was intrigued.
So he wandered the green countryside and found he agreed with all he'd heard about the gorgeous land, and thought he might stay a while. He came upon an old woman standing on the edge of a river, hunched and dejected.
"Why, madam, what vexes you so," the Devil asked.
"My cow," she said, pointing at the animal calmly grazing on the other side of the water. "She got away and managed to get across the river, and I have no idea how to get her back." The Devil, never one to allow such an opportunity pass by, presented his most charming and polite smile.
"Why, I can help you get her back," he said. "I'll make you a deal. I'll build a bridge tonight so you can get her back in the barn before milking time in the morning. You go home and rest." He held out his hands in offering.
"Oh, you'll just build a whole bridge overnight, then? Are you a wizard, sir?"
The Devil laughed and bowed.
"And what boon will you ask in payment for such an amazing feat," the old woman asked, for she was no fool.
"I'll take the first living thing to cross the bridge in payment," the Devil replied with a smile. The old woman was convinced now that the man was full of bluster and lies, so she agreed and walked slowly home for the evening, still thinking of ways to get her cow back.
The next morning, she dressed for the cool Welsh bluster and considered what might happen if the magician HAD built a bridge. So, for caution's sake, she took bread from the table and called her dog to walk with her to the river.
And there the Devil stood, shiny and bright next to a brand new sturdy bridge spanning the water. On the other side stood her cow, quietly eating as though bridges just appeared overnight regularly in her world. The Devil didn't say anything, just gestured to the river with an open hand, inviting the old woman to cross. Instead, she threw the loaf of bread with all her strength.
And her faithful dog ran after it, becoming the first living creature to cross the bridge. The Devil gnashed his teeth and screamed, "NOOOOO! I don't want your smelly, hairy farm dog's soul!" and disappeared.
The old woman gathered her cow and dog, and went home.
The Devil never appeared in Wales again, too embarrassed to show his face after being outwitted by an old lady.
But high in the mountains near Aberystwyth, a bridge with three levels crosses the gorge over the river. The bottom bridge is said to have been built by the Devil himself, over Devil's Falls.
A thousand years ago, the Devil decided to visit Wales, because in all his time on Earth and in Hell he'd never visited that corner of the world. Rumor had it, the country was beautiful, and the Devil was intrigued.
So he wandered the green countryside and found he agreed with all he'd heard about the gorgeous land, and thought he might stay a while. He came upon an old woman standing on the edge of a river, hunched and dejected.
"Why, madam, what vexes you so," the Devil asked.
"My cow," she said, pointing at the animal calmly grazing on the other side of the water. "She got away and managed to get across the river, and I have no idea how to get her back." The Devil, never one to allow such an opportunity pass by, presented his most charming and polite smile.
"Why, I can help you get her back," he said. "I'll make you a deal. I'll build a bridge tonight so you can get her back in the barn before milking time in the morning. You go home and rest." He held out his hands in offering.
"Oh, you'll just build a whole bridge overnight, then? Are you a wizard, sir?"
The Devil laughed and bowed.
"And what boon will you ask in payment for such an amazing feat," the old woman asked, for she was no fool.
"I'll take the first living thing to cross the bridge in payment," the Devil replied with a smile. The old woman was convinced now that the man was full of bluster and lies, so she agreed and walked slowly home for the evening, still thinking of ways to get her cow back.
The next morning, she dressed for the cool Welsh bluster and considered what might happen if the magician HAD built a bridge. So, for caution's sake, she took bread from the table and called her dog to walk with her to the river.
And there the Devil stood, shiny and bright next to a brand new sturdy bridge spanning the water. On the other side stood her cow, quietly eating as though bridges just appeared overnight regularly in her world. The Devil didn't say anything, just gestured to the river with an open hand, inviting the old woman to cross. Instead, she threw the loaf of bread with all her strength.
And her faithful dog ran after it, becoming the first living creature to cross the bridge. The Devil gnashed his teeth and screamed, "NOOOOO! I don't want your smelly, hairy farm dog's soul!" and disappeared.
The old woman gathered her cow and dog, and went home.
The Devil never appeared in Wales again, too embarrassed to show his face after being outwitted by an old lady.
But high in the mountains near Aberystwyth, a bridge with three levels crosses the gorge over the river. The bottom bridge is said to have been built by the Devil himself, over Devil's Falls.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Mythic Monday: Scylla and Charybdis Part 2
"You will find the other rock lies lower, but they are so close together that there is not more than a bow-shot between them. A large fig tree in full leaf grows upon it, and under it lies the sucking whirlpool of Charybdis. Three times in the day does she vomit forth her waters, and three times she sucks them down again. See that you be not there when she is sucking, for if you are, Poseidon himself could not save you; you must hug the Scylla side and drive your ship by as fast as you can, for you ad better lose six men than your whole crew." Circe to Odysseus, The Odyssey, Book 12.
Scylla, the "savage, extreme, rude, cruel and invincible" monster who eats crews six at a time is still the better option than her sister monster, Charybdis.
Scylla and Charybdis are the worst of the feminine dangers Odysseus faces on his trip home: they are the final trial after leaving Circe's palace and passing the Sirens' isle. If Circe's island and the Sirens represent temptations of the flesh leading to death if not resisted and controlled (gluttony, drunkenness, and sex), Scylla and Charybdis are the inescapable power of Nature, often represented in Greek myth as an impersonal feminine rage. Neither Scylla nor Charybdis were out to personally murder Odysseus: both simply are what they are. It's up to Odysseus to take care around them, for neither care in the least about him and will continue to act accordingly to their natures regardless of his presence. It's a good lesson for Odysseus in humility: there is NO way to conquer either creature. He can only hope to survive. And survive he does: against all odds, he does it twice (although the second time Odysseus's raft is swallowed by the whirlpool and he finds himself clinging to the fig tree above her, watching as his little vessel is destroyed and belched up in bits).
The Odyssey doesn't specify any physical attributes of Charybdis other than her tidal powers of dragging ships to the bottom of the sea thrice daily. I suppose for a sailing culture her destructive powers are terrifying enough without necessarily discussing the actual creature causing the whirlpool, since by design no mortal would've ever actually seen her.
It's possible Charybdis was once considered a goddess of the tides. Aristotle refers to her as such in his work Meteorologica, and a her name is linguistically similar to "Keto Trienos" (Sea Monster, Three Times). Later, in Virgil's The Aeneid. she's described as the daughter of Gaea and Poseidon. That'd be the Great Mother Goddess (Earth) and the God of the Sea. Ah, incest in Greek Myth (Gaea was technically Poseidon's grandmother, after all).
As most monsters prove to be, Charybdis is one of the faces of the destructive power of the Goddess. She is described unrelenting, voracious, and unapologetic in her hunger. She stole oxen from Heracles and was banished to the bottom of the sea by Zeus's thunderbolt as punishment. In some versions of this later myth, Charybdis is a lovely girl and loyal servant of her parents who, in her punishment by Zeus, is turned into a giant "bladder of a monster" with flippers and a voracious thirst which could only be relieved by swallowing the sea three times daily.
It's worth noting that Charybdis appears in all three major hero quests in Greco-Roman literature: The Odyssey, The Aeneid, and Jason and the Argonauts. ONLY Jason and the Argonauts are able to pass the straits safely, because they carried Thetis with them as a guide. Yes: that's the same sea nymph Thetis who birthed Achilles and was the daughter of a sea god, but her tale is another post.
Charybdis still haunts the Straits of Messina as the natural whirlpool on the northern end of the strait. I'm sure the sailors today haven't seen the creature herself who resides at the bottom of the sea there, but some of the art out there depicting Charybdis is fantastic and worth looking up. The watery sarlacc pit with teeth is my personal favorite. Since the tides still whirl in that spot three times a day, I imagine she's still there, waiting for ships to sail too close to the edge.
Scylla, the "savage, extreme, rude, cruel and invincible" monster who eats crews six at a time is still the better option than her sister monster, Charybdis.
Scylla and Charybdis are the worst of the feminine dangers Odysseus faces on his trip home: they are the final trial after leaving Circe's palace and passing the Sirens' isle. If Circe's island and the Sirens represent temptations of the flesh leading to death if not resisted and controlled (gluttony, drunkenness, and sex), Scylla and Charybdis are the inescapable power of Nature, often represented in Greek myth as an impersonal feminine rage. Neither Scylla nor Charybdis were out to personally murder Odysseus: both simply are what they are. It's up to Odysseus to take care around them, for neither care in the least about him and will continue to act accordingly to their natures regardless of his presence. It's a good lesson for Odysseus in humility: there is NO way to conquer either creature. He can only hope to survive. And survive he does: against all odds, he does it twice (although the second time Odysseus's raft is swallowed by the whirlpool and he finds himself clinging to the fig tree above her, watching as his little vessel is destroyed and belched up in bits).
The Odyssey doesn't specify any physical attributes of Charybdis other than her tidal powers of dragging ships to the bottom of the sea thrice daily. I suppose for a sailing culture her destructive powers are terrifying enough without necessarily discussing the actual creature causing the whirlpool, since by design no mortal would've ever actually seen her.
It's possible Charybdis was once considered a goddess of the tides. Aristotle refers to her as such in his work Meteorologica, and a her name is linguistically similar to "Keto Trienos" (Sea Monster, Three Times). Later, in Virgil's The Aeneid. she's described as the daughter of Gaea and Poseidon. That'd be the Great Mother Goddess (Earth) and the God of the Sea. Ah, incest in Greek Myth (Gaea was technically Poseidon's grandmother, after all).
As most monsters prove to be, Charybdis is one of the faces of the destructive power of the Goddess. She is described unrelenting, voracious, and unapologetic in her hunger. She stole oxen from Heracles and was banished to the bottom of the sea by Zeus's thunderbolt as punishment. In some versions of this later myth, Charybdis is a lovely girl and loyal servant of her parents who, in her punishment by Zeus, is turned into a giant "bladder of a monster" with flippers and a voracious thirst which could only be relieved by swallowing the sea three times daily.
It's worth noting that Charybdis appears in all three major hero quests in Greco-Roman literature: The Odyssey, The Aeneid, and Jason and the Argonauts. ONLY Jason and the Argonauts are able to pass the straits safely, because they carried Thetis with them as a guide. Yes: that's the same sea nymph Thetis who birthed Achilles and was the daughter of a sea god, but her tale is another post.
Charybdis still haunts the Straits of Messina as the natural whirlpool on the northern end of the strait. I'm sure the sailors today haven't seen the creature herself who resides at the bottom of the sea there, but some of the art out there depicting Charybdis is fantastic and worth looking up. The watery sarlacc pit with teeth is my personal favorite. Since the tides still whirl in that spot three times a day, I imagine she's still there, waiting for ships to sail too close to the edge.
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| http://kaiju.wikidot.com/wiki:charybdis Charybdis depicted in Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters |
Monday, July 13, 2015
Mythic Monday: Scylla & Charybdis Part 1
At some point in life, most people are forced to choose between two options knowing that regardless which is chosen, they'll lose. In current linguistic idiom, there are a few phrases that properly convey an impossible choice: the lesser of two evils, a rock and a hard place, the devil and the deep blue sea (ok, maybe that's not a currently used phrase, but it's out there nonetheless), etc.
Location-wise, for reference, the theory is that Scylla and Charybdis menaced the slim passage between Sicily and Italy, now called The Strait of Messina. For you cartogrophiles out there, that'd be the point on the map where it looks like the toe of Italy's boot is kicking Sicily into the sea.
Also for reference, I've heard "Scylla" pronounced "silla" by many, but in general "c" is a "k" sound in Greek, so most mythological texts indicate it's pronounced "SKIL-uh" or "SKUL-uh" but if you speak Greek and want to correct me I'd welcome it. "Charybdis" would then be pronounced "khah-rib-dis" because "ch" is pronounced as a "k" sound.
In ancient Greece, a person was stuck between Scylla and Charybdis: two sea monsters known for eating sailors and destroying ships. Two monsters Odysseus had to outwit in The Odyssey in order to make it home.
Location-wise, for reference, the theory is that Scylla and Charybdis menaced the slim passage between Sicily and Italy, now called The Strait of Messina. For you cartogrophiles out there, that'd be the point on the map where it looks like the toe of Italy's boot is kicking Sicily into the sea.
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| The Strait of Messina Photo copyright Mapquest via Navteq |
So, as these two harridans of the sea have enough to discuss between them to qualify for a chapter instead of a post, I'm splitting them up. We'll begin with Scylla this week.
As many females in Greek mythology, Scylla becomes her dangerous self through no fault of her own. In all the versions I have found, Scylla is loved by the wrong god and a jealous rival poisons her. It's the details of her parentage, lover, and destroyer that differ.
Scylla is the daughter of supernatural creatures: in one common version she's a naiad (a water nymph, sometimes the daughter of a river god) who unfortunately catches the eye of Poseidon, God of the Sea (and brother to Zeus, which makes this relationship the equivalent of the CEO falling in love with a mail intern in terms of power). Scylla didn't really have a chance at all in this version. One of Poseidon's other lovers dumped a poison potion into Scylla's favorite bathing pool, cursing her to a horrendously monstrous form for all eternity. However, it's worth noting that the written version of the Poseidon-lover myth dates later than Homer's version in The Odyssey (8thC BCE).
In another common version, Scylla is cursed by none other than Circe (the powerful sorceress partner/mentor to Odysseus in The Odyssey) for being loved by Glaucus, Circe's love interest at the time. Again, worth noting that the love triangle aspect involving Circe is not mentioned in Homer's text. this doesn't mean the myths regarding Scylla didn't include both parentage and love interest: more likely it means Homer took Scylla's tragic background to be common knowledge and didn't feel compelled to include her history in his tale. After all, Scylla was merely one of the two feminine horrors Odysseus had to conquer to make it home.
And of course, we have Ovid's version. Recall how Ovid is rather unkind in his opinion of females in general (see Medusa's tale). In Ovid's retelling, Glaucus is rejected by Scylla and goes to Circe for a love potion to force Scylla to come to him. Circe, however, is a jealous woman already in love with Glaucus and removes her rival with poison instead of a love potion.
Ultimately, regardless of the origin of her fated bath's contamination, all the tales agree that the poison inflicted upon Scylla changes her into a horrible creature with six heads, each with three rows of teeth (great white teeth, perhaps? One of the associations of Skylla is "skylax", or "dog-shark"), tentacles, a fish tail, and a belt of DOGS. Yeah. Live snapping angry dogs.In some descriptions of her physical transformation, she's human female from the waist up, dogs at the waist, and fish or tentacles for a tail.
No, I can't determine the logistic feasibility of wearing a belt of vicious dogs, but fishermen do tell the best sea-monster tales.
Scylla becomes a horrid cannibal "terrified even of herself", living in a sea cave across from Charybdis and attacking ships as they pass, plucking men from the deck and eating them alive.
What I find terribly interesting AND telling in both versions of the myth is that Scylla herself is NOT said to love either Poseidon or Glaucus: she's merely a cardboard cutout who becomes a voracious eater of men through no fault of her own. Interestingly, it's worth nothing that the Circe's sorcery isn't considered "evil" until until Ovid's tale is taken up by 19th century authors. In fact, Ovid's tone is rather condemning of Scylla for being too shallow to accept Glaucus as he was, and wrote as if she deserved her punishment because of course, who cares if she loved him: he loved her and therefore she has no right to refuse. Honestly, I have suspicions regarding Ovid's luck with romantic encounters in his personal life.
THIS IS A SPOILER, PEOPLE:
Odysseus doesn't kill Scylla. In fact, Scylla appears later in the Aeneid and in tales of the Argonauts as one of a sailor's most terrifying perils on the seas. It seems fairly clear Odysseus counted himself lucky to ESCAPE Scylla, and destroying her was never in the plan at all. That honor is attributed most often to Heracles (Hercules, for you Roman mythology folk).
"As when a fisherman on a promontory takes a long rod to snare little fishes with his bait and casts his ox-hair line down in to the sea below, then seizes the creatures one by one and throws them ashore still writhing; so Skylla swung my writhing companions up to the rocks, and there at the entrance began devouring them as they shrieked and held out heir hands to me in their extreme of agony. Many pitiful things have met my eyes in my toilings and searchings through the sea-paths, but this was most pitiful of all."
Homer, The Odyssey, Book 12
And so, Scylla goes down in history as the second most terrifying of two evils. Even Pliny the Elder mentions her as a known peril of the sea in his Natural Histories (Book 3), written in the 1st century CE. (I suppose it'd be dated prior to 79CE, since Vesuvius sort of ate the Elder Pliny. Pliny the Elder mostly likely died of asphyxiation from poisonous gasses while attempting to escape Vesuvius' eruption, the same eruption that buried Pompeii and Herculaneum).
Ultimately, Scylla is the LESSER of the two evils associated with the Strait of Messina. Circe, the same sorceress who may have turned Scylla into a monster, advised Odysseus to sail closer to HER and avoid her counterpart at all costs, even at the cost of the crew members Scylla devoured.
Circe knew that while Scylla would decimate Odysseus's crew, Charybdis could swallow his ship in one gulp and belch nothing but seawater. No sailor took on Charybdis...not even Odysseus.
But she's waiting for next week.
Thursday, July 02, 2015
Mythic Monday: Hades and Cerberus...A God and his Dog
Double dose this week (it's a long post to make up for missing last week).
This is not a post about Death, or the afterlife, or heaven and hell.
This is a post about a lonely god.
Before Zeus and his siblings took over Olympus, they were all swallowed whole at the moment of their birth by their own father, Cronus. Cronus had received a prophecy that his son would kill him and take over his rule, and big daddy was having none of that teenage shenanigans, so instead of family therapy he decided to just nip all possibility of being overthrown in the bud. By eating all his children as soon as they were born: girls too, because you can never be too careful.
Rhea, his wife, got tired of losing her children and managed to trick Cronus into eating a stone instead of Zeus when the last baby was born. The story of how Zeus came back and became the ruler of Olympus is another tale...what's important here is that Zeus was the BABY of the family. His oldest brother, the god* who spent the most time languishing in the darkness of daddy's belly?
Hades.
Hades is the only God I can find in myth who is BOTH the oldest AND the youngest boy in his pantheon. Hades was the firstborn son of Rhea and Cronus, and last regurgitated by Cronus. Whether it's this experience or just his nature that makes him the serious God is hard to say, but he's decidedly
So, fast forward to Zeus freeing the rest of his family. Then the six of them overthrow the rest of the Titans and take over the world. To avoid future conflicts, they decided it'd be a good idea to just split up the inheritances between the boys. As his powers were over water, Poseidon took over the seas. Zeus, with his lightning rod personality, took over the skies. Earth, personified as Gaia and more powerful and older than all three of them, was equally shared.
That left the underworld for Hades.
It's important to note that Hades is NOT Death. Death is not a God: Death...ie the actual loss of life, is a force of nature. Thanatos is often the Greek personification of Death, who is the collector of life. Hades is KEEPER OF THE DEAD and Ruler of the Underworld (afterlife).
Contrary to the recent Titans movies, Hades doesn't appear too upset about ruling over the dead in his mythology. In fact, he seems to prefer it. Compare Hades' behavior to the other gods' and you'll find a more serious, quieter entity. Hades doesn't sleep with anything he can get his hands on: he doesn't have a bunch of bastard demigods running around. When petty jealousies and silly conflicts over apples and territory cause Greece and Troy to attempt to annihilate each other, he doesn't get involved other than to welcome the valiant dead warriors to their rest. In fact, in most accounts Hades prefers to be left the hell alone by his living relatives.
Personally, I think this is due to the way his life started: he spent the longest time of all his siblings imprisoned in Cronus. He's also the oldest: psychologically the oldest is often the child with the most responsibility instilled in an early age. Did Hades feel he had to take care of his siblings when THEY were swallowed as well? Who knows...but his behavior after gaining freedom is not that of a frivolous God. In fact, of the six Olympian Gods (in order of birth: Hades, Poseidon, Demeter, Hestia, Hera, and Zeus), Zeus (the baby) is the most reckless.
He takes his role as keeper of the dead very seriously, and not in the Christian idea of punishment. Hades the Realm consists of a few key areas with five rivers flowing around and between. Tartarus is what we would now think of as Hell: it's a place of punishment for those who've earned it. The Elysian Fields, or Elysium, is where souls who've earned peaceful rest go: it's the equivalent of Heaven only with more frolicking (as far as I can tell). Elysium began as a place for only demi-gods and heroes, but morphed into a place of virtuous rest later in myths.
When the dead descend to the underworld, they are ferried across the first of the five rivers by Charon, the Ferryman. In some myths the first river is Styx, in others it's Acheron. In ancient times, the coins put on the eyes of dead at burial were for their ferry toll: it was believed that without coin Charon would leave the spirit on the shores of Styx, and they couldn't get to the Underworld.
Acheron - River of Woe
Cocytus - River of Lamentation
Lethe - River of Oblivion
Phlegethon -River of Fire
Styx - River of the Underworld (often in myth Styx the river that surrounds the Underworld).
The next entity they pass is Cerberus, the three-headed Hound of Hades. Cerberus and Hades seem to get along much in the way any pet and owner do. There are tales of Hades visiting and patrolling with Cerberus, and Cerberus serves two essential guardian functions for Hades. He keeps the living out, because the living have no place in the Underworld, and he keeps the dead IN. Cerberus is feared and hated by both sides, which puts him in the position of lonely guard dog, standing alone at the gates.
Just like his master, Cerberus has a lonely existence. They're both quite solitary creatures: even after Hades and Persephone marry they're only together three months out of the year (the tale of Hades and Persephone is a post and a half all by itself, but suffice it to say Persephone spends the winters with her husband in the Underworld).
And yet, they seem to prefer their duty over silliness, and mostly solitary existence over constant noisy parties, wars, and the general cacophony of life. Maybe Hades was the original Olympian introvert. He was definitely the serious older brother to the rest of the Olympians. Personally, I've always wondered if Persephone appreciated the three months of cool quiet with a God and his Dog.
*Hestia, Demeter, and Hera were all born before Hades, to technically Hestia spent the longest time in Cronus's belly. However, this post is focused more on brother-to-brother power dynamics, so I skipped the ladies.
This is not a post about Death, or the afterlife, or heaven and hell.
This is a post about a lonely god.
Before Zeus and his siblings took over Olympus, they were all swallowed whole at the moment of their birth by their own father, Cronus. Cronus had received a prophecy that his son would kill him and take over his rule, and big daddy was having none of that teenage shenanigans, so instead of family therapy he decided to just nip all possibility of being overthrown in the bud. By eating all his children as soon as they were born: girls too, because you can never be too careful.
Rhea, his wife, got tired of losing her children and managed to trick Cronus into eating a stone instead of Zeus when the last baby was born. The story of how Zeus came back and became the ruler of Olympus is another tale...what's important here is that Zeus was the BABY of the family. His oldest brother, the god* who spent the most time languishing in the darkness of daddy's belly?
Hades.
Hades is the only God I can find in myth who is BOTH the oldest AND the youngest boy in his pantheon. Hades was the firstborn son of Rhea and Cronus, and last regurgitated by Cronus. Whether it's this experience or just his nature that makes him the serious God is hard to say, but he's decidedly
So, fast forward to Zeus freeing the rest of his family. Then the six of them overthrow the rest of the Titans and take over the world. To avoid future conflicts, they decided it'd be a good idea to just split up the inheritances between the boys. As his powers were over water, Poseidon took over the seas. Zeus, with his lightning rod personality, took over the skies. Earth, personified as Gaia and more powerful and older than all three of them, was equally shared.
That left the underworld for Hades.
It's important to note that Hades is NOT Death. Death is not a God: Death...ie the actual loss of life, is a force of nature. Thanatos is often the Greek personification of Death, who is the collector of life. Hades is KEEPER OF THE DEAD and Ruler of the Underworld (afterlife).
Contrary to the recent Titans movies, Hades doesn't appear too upset about ruling over the dead in his mythology. In fact, he seems to prefer it. Compare Hades' behavior to the other gods' and you'll find a more serious, quieter entity. Hades doesn't sleep with anything he can get his hands on: he doesn't have a bunch of bastard demigods running around. When petty jealousies and silly conflicts over apples and territory cause Greece and Troy to attempt to annihilate each other, he doesn't get involved other than to welcome the valiant dead warriors to their rest. In fact, in most accounts Hades prefers to be left the hell alone by his living relatives.
Personally, I think this is due to the way his life started: he spent the longest time of all his siblings imprisoned in Cronus. He's also the oldest: psychologically the oldest is often the child with the most responsibility instilled in an early age. Did Hades feel he had to take care of his siblings when THEY were swallowed as well? Who knows...but his behavior after gaining freedom is not that of a frivolous God. In fact, of the six Olympian Gods (in order of birth: Hades, Poseidon, Demeter, Hestia, Hera, and Zeus), Zeus (the baby) is the most reckless.
He takes his role as keeper of the dead very seriously, and not in the Christian idea of punishment. Hades the Realm consists of a few key areas with five rivers flowing around and between. Tartarus is what we would now think of as Hell: it's a place of punishment for those who've earned it. The Elysian Fields, or Elysium, is where souls who've earned peaceful rest go: it's the equivalent of Heaven only with more frolicking (as far as I can tell). Elysium began as a place for only demi-gods and heroes, but morphed into a place of virtuous rest later in myths.
When the dead descend to the underworld, they are ferried across the first of the five rivers by Charon, the Ferryman. In some myths the first river is Styx, in others it's Acheron. In ancient times, the coins put on the eyes of dead at burial were for their ferry toll: it was believed that without coin Charon would leave the spirit on the shores of Styx, and they couldn't get to the Underworld.
Acheron - River of Woe
Cocytus - River of Lamentation
Lethe - River of Oblivion
Phlegethon -River of Fire
Styx - River of the Underworld (often in myth Styx the river that surrounds the Underworld).
The next entity they pass is Cerberus, the three-headed Hound of Hades. Cerberus and Hades seem to get along much in the way any pet and owner do. There are tales of Hades visiting and patrolling with Cerberus, and Cerberus serves two essential guardian functions for Hades. He keeps the living out, because the living have no place in the Underworld, and he keeps the dead IN. Cerberus is feared and hated by both sides, which puts him in the position of lonely guard dog, standing alone at the gates.
Just like his master, Cerberus has a lonely existence. They're both quite solitary creatures: even after Hades and Persephone marry they're only together three months out of the year (the tale of Hades and Persephone is a post and a half all by itself, but suffice it to say Persephone spends the winters with her husband in the Underworld).
And yet, they seem to prefer their duty over silliness, and mostly solitary existence over constant noisy parties, wars, and the general cacophony of life. Maybe Hades was the original Olympian introvert. He was definitely the serious older brother to the rest of the Olympians. Personally, I've always wondered if Persephone appreciated the three months of cool quiet with a God and his Dog.
*Hestia, Demeter, and Hera were all born before Hades, to technically Hestia spent the longest time in Cronus's belly. However, this post is focused more on brother-to-brother power dynamics, so I skipped the ladies.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Mythic Monday is both late and a repeat...because I'm buried in boxes.
This one, originally published last fall here: Mythic Monday: Brownie seems apropos for the unpacking extravaganza. I don't have Lucky Charms in the house in Minnesota right now, but I DO have Honey Nut Cheerios, milk, and M&Ms...
Help Wanted: small brownish creature willing to help clean my house, ride the dogs around in the middle of the night, organize as necessary, and remain hidden. Payment: various foodstuffs including porridge (when available), honey, chocolate, and heavy cream. Lodging and privacy included. Tolerance for iron in the house required.
People, I desperately need a Brownie.
I spent a good chunk of my weekend organizing and cleaning, and it's completely true that those with children and dogs are just wasting their time on a wheel of frustration when attempting to clean. And therefore, tonight I'm lamenting the overabundance of iron in my house and the utter lack of Brownies, whom I'd GLADLY leave treats if one graced my home with her presence.
If you google "Brownie" you'll get a variety of tasty baked goods...as far as I know these do not clean. In fact, I've proven on many occasions baked brownies have a magical ability to increase pounds but absolutely no ability to clean. They are terribly underwhelming as domestic help, except for easing crankiness brought on by chocolate cravings.
No, I'm referring to the small Fae people-ish creatures who, in Scots-Irish folklore, are rather famously helpful in the home as long as they're properly cared for. Brownies are often considered a member of the Hob family (as in, hobgoblin, only benevolent): a small, shy creature who aids in household tasks if rewarded with food. Most often, porridge and honey, although those two options date back to the days when porridge and honey were pretty standard household fare. I wonder if Lucky Charms would work, or if it would just piss them off?
You do NOT want to piss off the creature who helps keep your house tidy and organized. Seriously. Bad things happen to people who abuse the Fae in general...particularly a human-like creature the size of a lemur who just happens to know ALL the secrets and ALL the places in your house to hide things.
Brownies traditionally don't have any interest in being seen: they're active at night when the family is asleep, and live in unused parts of the house. For a time it was custom to leave a seat open by the fire in the kitchen for the resident Brownie, in thanks for their protection and work (along with the ever-important food offerings, which are a must to keep your Brownie happy...I really can't stress the food thing enough).
Unfortunately, Brownies, like all the Fae, have a severe aversion to iron. This means burying a nail under the threshold of your front door or hanging a horseshoe in your home will keep brownies (along with the rest of the Fae) at bay. Oh, did you think the horseshoe thing was a luck attractor? I suppose it was...as it was considered lucky to be passed over when the Fae are around, since they're somewhat capricious and not at always kind. I suppose it's the price to pay for keeping out kobolds, hobgoblins, and other nasties...but I DO sometimes wish modern homes were built without nails.
I need some household help, and I have plenty of Lucky Charms, milk, and honey to spare.
Help Wanted: small brownish creature willing to help clean my house, ride the dogs around in the middle of the night, organize as necessary, and remain hidden. Payment: various foodstuffs including porridge (when available), honey, chocolate, and heavy cream. Lodging and privacy included. Tolerance for iron in the house required.
People, I desperately need a Brownie.
I spent a good chunk of my weekend organizing and cleaning, and it's completely true that those with children and dogs are just wasting their time on a wheel of frustration when attempting to clean. And therefore, tonight I'm lamenting the overabundance of iron in my house and the utter lack of Brownies, whom I'd GLADLY leave treats if one graced my home with her presence.
If you google "Brownie" you'll get a variety of tasty baked goods...as far as I know these do not clean. In fact, I've proven on many occasions baked brownies have a magical ability to increase pounds but absolutely no ability to clean. They are terribly underwhelming as domestic help, except for easing crankiness brought on by chocolate cravings.
No, I'm referring to the small Fae people-ish creatures who, in Scots-Irish folklore, are rather famously helpful in the home as long as they're properly cared for. Brownies are often considered a member of the Hob family (as in, hobgoblin, only benevolent): a small, shy creature who aids in household tasks if rewarded with food. Most often, porridge and honey, although those two options date back to the days when porridge and honey were pretty standard household fare. I wonder if Lucky Charms would work, or if it would just piss them off?
You do NOT want to piss off the creature who helps keep your house tidy and organized. Seriously. Bad things happen to people who abuse the Fae in general...particularly a human-like creature the size of a lemur who just happens to know ALL the secrets and ALL the places in your house to hide things.
Brownies traditionally don't have any interest in being seen: they're active at night when the family is asleep, and live in unused parts of the house. For a time it was custom to leave a seat open by the fire in the kitchen for the resident Brownie, in thanks for their protection and work (along with the ever-important food offerings, which are a must to keep your Brownie happy...I really can't stress the food thing enough).
Unfortunately, Brownies, like all the Fae, have a severe aversion to iron. This means burying a nail under the threshold of your front door or hanging a horseshoe in your home will keep brownies (along with the rest of the Fae) at bay. Oh, did you think the horseshoe thing was a luck attractor? I suppose it was...as it was considered lucky to be passed over when the Fae are around, since they're somewhat capricious and not at always kind. I suppose it's the price to pay for keeping out kobolds, hobgoblins, and other nasties...but I DO sometimes wish modern homes were built without nails.
I need some household help, and I have plenty of Lucky Charms, milk, and honey to spare.
Monday, February 23, 2015
Mythic Monday: Kobolds (related: what the hell is wrong with Google users?)
I've been remiss on my mythology lately, and I have no legitimate excuse. Things have been a little... upheavalous*...for me lately, and blogging sort of fell out of the back of a bouncing wagon of SHIT I HAVE TO DO. Oops.
*No, of course "upheavalous" isn't a word, but the sentiment fits.
In honor of tonight's Kobold extravaganza, I thought I'd see what an interwebz search vomited out, since they are a long-standing feature of various video and RP games. Oh Google, I'm both unsurprised and slightly horrified.
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It appears some of you searchers out there have confused Kobolds with dingoes.
Also, spellchecker wants to change "kobolds" to "cuckolds" and I have to say that's fairly judgmental, Blogger. I've found no evidence of kobolds cuckolding, nor would it be likely to catch them doing so since they are purportedly quite sneaky and wily.
Moving on.
Kobolds are most easily described as the Germanic relative of the British Brownie or Norwegian Nisse. They are usually invisible but can appear as child-sized people. Interestingly, their dress seems to be defined by the work they do.
There are three main delineations of Kobold: the house-elf variety (think Dobby from Harry Potter) who are generally seen in peasant clothing; seafaring Kobolds who stow away on ships and of course dress like a sailor (presumably they also swear like a sailor, and would cause a sailor to swear profusely when seen, I imagine); and mining Kobolds who appear hunched over, cranky as hell, and dressed in filthy mining clothes.
The house Kobold, similar to a Brownie, can be quite helpful. Unfortunately, while the Brownies have a reputation for being easygoing and cheerful as long as they're given regular gifts of food and honey, Kobolds are rather capricious. Even bribed, they're as likely to cause mischief and messes as they are to sweep or clean, and it appears they're fairly ambivalent of mood when it comes to interactions with people. It's often considered lucky to have a house Kobold, and interestingly the creature is attached to the dwelling itself (not the family who lives there). A house with a happy Kobold will be prosperous and lucky.
On the other hand, those who sail seem to be quite helpful to sailors (once everyone gets over that initial Kobold-is-not-invisible meeting). They were considered good luck to have aboard for the most part, and (as is a theme here) the sailors gave regular offerings to their ship's Kobold. I do wonder if they're subject to sailors' maladies, though: do fairies get scurvy, for example? What about syphilis? Do they keep a girly Kobold in every port? Would a Kobold girl in a bar be of the house or sailor variety (and as such, what would she wear)?
Those who mine appear to be something of a cross between a goblin and a dwarf or gnome. As Germanic mythology is often closely related to Norse (Wodan/Odin) I'd guess they originated as dwarf-like characters who both protect and work the mines. They are described as being dirty or even black from mining filth, hunched, and dressed like a child miner. Miners left all sorts of offerings to placate the Kobolds, and some of their tales morphed with creatures like the Cornish "knockers" (not the boob kind...the Tommyknocker kind).
Kobolds, much like other Fairy and spirit creatures, are horrendously dangerous when pissed off. They must never be mocked or laughed at, fed daily (beer seems to be often on the menu, which I suppose fits since it's a German creature and beer generally surpassed wine in popularity and availability in that area of Europe), and generally treated with respect.
Consider the wrath of an invisible creature who enjoys literally playing with fire, tripping people at the worst possible time, shoving someone overboard, or collapsing a mine shaft. Hodekin, a Kobold of disturbing renown (likely because he lived in a bishop's house), strangled a servant boy who'd angered him, tore the poor boy's limbs off, and tossed his head into the stew pot. Yeah. Best to keep on their benevolent side.
Should you find yourself with a Kobold resident, good luck my friend. Feed them their favorite meal daily and try not to get too irritated when they hide your shit or mess with your things (even nice Kobolds are full of mischief). If you offend them, for the love of Pete say you're sorry and change whatever is offending them IMMEDIATELY and maybe you'll get back in their good graces.
I will say, however, that I truly did not find any evidence in books, Wikipedia, or anywhere else on the interwebz of Kobolds eating my baby (or anyone else's), other than Hodekin, but to be completely fair the boy wasn't a baby...and I didn't find a version where the Kobold ate him OR the stew.
Seriously, that was the Dingoes.
Also, I'm not kidding Blogger, a dangerous sprite is NOT a cuckold. Wow.
Monday, January 26, 2015
Mythic Monday: Mithras - Spell Checker is DILIGENT
"One day every soldier in the empire has to shower in the blood of your sacrificial bull. The next they don't even remember your birthday." --Neil Gaiman, American Gods*
I have to add a disclaimer to this post. Mithraism is NOT a single mythological tale, but a full mythic cycle which was eventually adopted and adapted by the soldiers of the Roman Legions into a belief system which (from my perspective) rivaled early Christianity. And so, while I'm fascinated by Mithra and his rituals and myth, this is not an in-depth study of an entire religion. If it was, I'm pretty sure most of you would run like hell, and on top of that I eventually need to sleep. Also, I am not an archaeologist, and I KNOW I have a few friends who might be more learned on this topic than I. Please please correct me if I'm wrong: there's a lot of detail I have to leave out to keep this a under-10,000 word post. Or feel free to add in comments!
Mithra seems to have originated as a god in the Zoroastrian pantheon of ancient Persia (generally around Iran/Iraq and part of Turkey today). Again, Zoroastrianism is a full religious cycle, and deserves its own series of posts. The key concepts, however, are that where Abrahamic religions say God is the creator and sovereign of all (including evil, which God created), Zoroastrian belief allows for a good and evil rivalry. Oromasdes and Ahriman (that'd be Good and Evil, only with unpronounceable names) are both looking for souls of man. Ahriman is willing to send demons and evil spirits to tempt or force man to his side. Mankind needs some help down here, and Mithra is sent as the savior hero-god.
As a hero-god, he has two main incidents in the Persian cycle. In the first, Mithra battles the Sun and wins, becoming "Helios Mithras"...the Sun God. That's a little weird because Helios (the actual Sun) is still around and just really good friends with Mithra in many of the myths.
One of the joys and frustrations of mythology, people, is that sometimes it's just the earliest example of the telephone game.
The key here is that Mithra is now fully a God of Light, which plants him pretty firmly as "God's Savior of Many on Earth." Yes, this sounds familiar. I'm getting to that.
The other major theme in Mithraic beliefs is his slaying of the heavenly bull. Mithra is reluctant to do so, but slays the bull in a cave on command/request of another God. The body of the dying bull becomes all the wholesome plants and animals on Earth, and his soul retreats to the heavens as reward. Mithra guards this new abundant land and acts as mediator between God and Man, until it is determined he is no longer needed on Earth and he returns to Heaven as well.
Mithraic beliefs seem to have included the dualism of good and evil (of course) as well as a philosophy of abstinence (that'd be abstinence in all things not absolutely necessary, not just sexually), loyalty, duty, and discipline. Also, no women allowed** (I wonder if they had that inscribed on the temple doors).
Therefore, it's pretty easy to see why the Roman soldiers would've grabbed that cult and made it their own. After all, Rome absolutely excelled at figuring out the best parts of a different civilization and incorporating it into Roman society, and the Mithraic cycle of stories exemplified all the ideal soldier attributes. And remember, between the wars that are written of to exalt or ridicule an Emperor's reign, there were also years of peaceful trading going on along all the borders. This cult would've found an easy home with soldiers' outposts and traveled quickly through the ranks.
However it happened, from the 1st to 4th Centuries CE Mithraism was THE belief system of the Roman Army. And as they did so very well with other cultures, Rome took Mithra and made it her own. The name was Latinized to Mithras. The central mythology adjusted slightly to focus on Mithras as the Sun God in eternal battle with Evil. The Sacrifice of the Bull to create the world and cleanse man of sin became the central myth.
Roman Mithraic Mysteries included elaborate initiation rituals to seven degrees of membership. There are references to a "complete guide" account of Mithraism, but the book itself has never been found. I think that's a serious bummer: one of the initiation rituals rumored to be enacted was the sacrifice of a bull over a pit, in which the initiate was essentially showered in the bull's blood at it's death. I can't find confirmation on the accuracy of this rite, but if it did happen I suppose that explains the serious attention regarding post-initiation ritual baths. I have to say, given the number of soldiers who were active participants, that sort of rite (were it true) may have been a high-echelon member initiation only...meaning only the seventh level members. Or I'm underestimating how many bulls the Legions had available for sacrifice, which is also completely possible.
There isn't a lot of direct written evidence of the rituals themselves: after all, to some extent it was a secret cult. However, archaeologists have found a ridiculous number of artifacts all over the empire. Mithraeums (underground cave temples dedicated to Mithras) have been found pretty much wherever Legions were stationed. Multiple bas-relief examples and sculptures detailing the central Bull sacrifice mythology can be viewed in museums today (or, Google, since that's easier and less expensive than traveling to the Louvre). From what I can tell, it seems wherever soldiers were stationed, Mithras hung out as well.
So what happened in the 4th Century to end Mithras' status?
Constantine. The century began with Constantine's rule, and over the course of a few decades Constantine made Christianity the official religion of the Empire. This spelled the beginning of the end of Mithras in Rome. Of course, nothing is overnight: it took quite a while before everyone in the Empire was converted (and even longer for those on the fringes). I did find some historians' theories that Theodosius' (379-390 CE) anti-paganism decrees were directly in response to stubborn pockets of Mithraism.
And true to Roman form, many of the most importantly held beliefs of the old religion were just incorporated into the new one. There are conspiracy theories of "heretics" worshiping Mithras in secret even today (which make for great novels, by the way).
After all, when Christianity subsumed Mithraism in Europe, where were many churches built? Over Mithraeums.
Mithras was God of Light and Savior of Mankind, the intermediary to God on behalf of Mankind...
Mithras' birthday? December 25th.
Of course I write that as a provocation, mostly because in researching Mithra/Mithras I included the Catholic Encyclopedia as one of my sources. It's an utterly fascinating read: all the similarities in feast rituals, savior iconography, and even ritual days are dismissed with total disdain by the Church as "evil copies" of good Christian traditions. There is an underlying tone of protest that's really interesting: is it possible there are pockets of Mithraic believers existing in the shadows today?
I suppose since I wander this planet with a vagina instead of a penis, I'll never know. I'm cool with that...bull-blood-bathing seems...well, it just sounds sticky and sort of gross. And who wants to clean the bathroom after THAT post-ritual-shower?
*If you haven't read this book and you like mythology even a little, READ IT NOW.
**It would be easy to say from a modern perspective that Mithraism is an anti-woman, patriarchal cult. However, it's vital to remember that monotheism is a relatively recent invention in human history: the Zoroastrian pantheon included multiple deities for multiple worshipers, including women's mysteries.
I have to add a disclaimer to this post. Mithraism is NOT a single mythological tale, but a full mythic cycle which was eventually adopted and adapted by the soldiers of the Roman Legions into a belief system which (from my perspective) rivaled early Christianity. And so, while I'm fascinated by Mithra and his rituals and myth, this is not an in-depth study of an entire religion. If it was, I'm pretty sure most of you would run like hell, and on top of that I eventually need to sleep. Also, I am not an archaeologist, and I KNOW I have a few friends who might be more learned on this topic than I. Please please correct me if I'm wrong: there's a lot of detail I have to leave out to keep this a under-10,000 word post. Or feel free to add in comments!
Mithra seems to have originated as a god in the Zoroastrian pantheon of ancient Persia (generally around Iran/Iraq and part of Turkey today). Again, Zoroastrianism is a full religious cycle, and deserves its own series of posts. The key concepts, however, are that where Abrahamic religions say God is the creator and sovereign of all (including evil, which God created), Zoroastrian belief allows for a good and evil rivalry. Oromasdes and Ahriman (that'd be Good and Evil, only with unpronounceable names) are both looking for souls of man. Ahriman is willing to send demons and evil spirits to tempt or force man to his side. Mankind needs some help down here, and Mithra is sent as the savior hero-god.
As a hero-god, he has two main incidents in the Persian cycle. In the first, Mithra battles the Sun and wins, becoming "Helios Mithras"...the Sun God. That's a little weird because Helios (the actual Sun) is still around and just really good friends with Mithra in many of the myths.
One of the joys and frustrations of mythology, people, is that sometimes it's just the earliest example of the telephone game.
The key here is that Mithra is now fully a God of Light, which plants him pretty firmly as "God's Savior of Many on Earth." Yes, this sounds familiar. I'm getting to that.
The other major theme in Mithraic beliefs is his slaying of the heavenly bull. Mithra is reluctant to do so, but slays the bull in a cave on command/request of another God. The body of the dying bull becomes all the wholesome plants and animals on Earth, and his soul retreats to the heavens as reward. Mithra guards this new abundant land and acts as mediator between God and Man, until it is determined he is no longer needed on Earth and he returns to Heaven as well.
Mithraic beliefs seem to have included the dualism of good and evil (of course) as well as a philosophy of abstinence (that'd be abstinence in all things not absolutely necessary, not just sexually), loyalty, duty, and discipline. Also, no women allowed** (I wonder if they had that inscribed on the temple doors).
Therefore, it's pretty easy to see why the Roman soldiers would've grabbed that cult and made it their own. After all, Rome absolutely excelled at figuring out the best parts of a different civilization and incorporating it into Roman society, and the Mithraic cycle of stories exemplified all the ideal soldier attributes. And remember, between the wars that are written of to exalt or ridicule an Emperor's reign, there were also years of peaceful trading going on along all the borders. This cult would've found an easy home with soldiers' outposts and traveled quickly through the ranks.
However it happened, from the 1st to 4th Centuries CE Mithraism was THE belief system of the Roman Army. And as they did so very well with other cultures, Rome took Mithra and made it her own. The name was Latinized to Mithras. The central mythology adjusted slightly to focus on Mithras as the Sun God in eternal battle with Evil. The Sacrifice of the Bull to create the world and cleanse man of sin became the central myth.
Roman Mithraic Mysteries included elaborate initiation rituals to seven degrees of membership. There are references to a "complete guide" account of Mithraism, but the book itself has never been found. I think that's a serious bummer: one of the initiation rituals rumored to be enacted was the sacrifice of a bull over a pit, in which the initiate was essentially showered in the bull's blood at it's death. I can't find confirmation on the accuracy of this rite, but if it did happen I suppose that explains the serious attention regarding post-initiation ritual baths. I have to say, given the number of soldiers who were active participants, that sort of rite (were it true) may have been a high-echelon member initiation only...meaning only the seventh level members. Or I'm underestimating how many bulls the Legions had available for sacrifice, which is also completely possible.
There isn't a lot of direct written evidence of the rituals themselves: after all, to some extent it was a secret cult. However, archaeologists have found a ridiculous number of artifacts all over the empire. Mithraeums (underground cave temples dedicated to Mithras) have been found pretty much wherever Legions were stationed. Multiple bas-relief examples and sculptures detailing the central Bull sacrifice mythology can be viewed in museums today (or, Google, since that's easier and less expensive than traveling to the Louvre). From what I can tell, it seems wherever soldiers were stationed, Mithras hung out as well.
So what happened in the 4th Century to end Mithras' status?
Constantine. The century began with Constantine's rule, and over the course of a few decades Constantine made Christianity the official religion of the Empire. This spelled the beginning of the end of Mithras in Rome. Of course, nothing is overnight: it took quite a while before everyone in the Empire was converted (and even longer for those on the fringes). I did find some historians' theories that Theodosius' (379-390 CE) anti-paganism decrees were directly in response to stubborn pockets of Mithraism.
And true to Roman form, many of the most importantly held beliefs of the old religion were just incorporated into the new one. There are conspiracy theories of "heretics" worshiping Mithras in secret even today (which make for great novels, by the way).
After all, when Christianity subsumed Mithraism in Europe, where were many churches built? Over Mithraeums.
Mithras was God of Light and Savior of Mankind, the intermediary to God on behalf of Mankind...
Mithras' birthday? December 25th.
Of course I write that as a provocation, mostly because in researching Mithra/Mithras I included the Catholic Encyclopedia as one of my sources. It's an utterly fascinating read: all the similarities in feast rituals, savior iconography, and even ritual days are dismissed with total disdain by the Church as "evil copies" of good Christian traditions. There is an underlying tone of protest that's really interesting: is it possible there are pockets of Mithraic believers existing in the shadows today?
I suppose since I wander this planet with a vagina instead of a penis, I'll never know. I'm cool with that...bull-blood-bathing seems...well, it just sounds sticky and sort of gross. And who wants to clean the bathroom after THAT post-ritual-shower?
*If you haven't read this book and you like mythology even a little, READ IT NOW.
**It would be easy to say from a modern perspective that Mithraism is an anti-woman, patriarchal cult. However, it's vital to remember that monotheism is a relatively recent invention in human history: the Zoroastrian pantheon included multiple deities for multiple worshipers, including women's mysteries.
Sunday, January 04, 2015
Mythic Monday: The Boy Who Flew Too High
In the time before time, a desperate King searched for a way to trap the monster his wife created. An inescapable prison to hold a creature so terrifying and bloodthirsty the King couldn't keep it in his court, yet, being a canny and ruthless man, the King knew he could use his wife's monster to his advantage.
And so, King Minos of Crete hired the most famous architect and inventor in the Athens to build his prison: his Labyrinth at Knossos, built to hold Asterion captive for his own bidding.
Daedalus, a genius inventor famed throughout the Greek world for his ingenuity and architecture, designed and built the Labyrinth with his son, Icarus. But Daedalus was horrified and disgusted with the way Minos used his creation, demanding annual sacrifices and forcing the monster to consume human flesh, including the flesh of Daedalus' own countrymen and women. And so when Theseus arrived to destroy the Minotaur, Daedalus helps by giving Ariadne the ball of string and disclosing the secrets of escaping the center of the maze.
Unfortunately for Daedalus, King Minos was no fool. When Theseus escapes the inescapable prison, the King knew Daedalus is involved. Daedalus, however, was also no fool: he'd planned for all contingencies. He constructed wax-and-feather wings for both himself and Icarus, his son, to fly from Crete back to the mainland. Carefully, Daedalus fitted the wax wings to his son's arms and back, warning Icarus to fly neither too low, as waterlogged feathers won't fly, nor too high, as hot wax melts.
Daedalus flew the middle path, gliding in a direct path between sea and sky exactly as he should, and arrived safely on the mainland.
Icarus, full of both youthful exuberance, was overcome by the thrill of flight. He swooped to skim the water and soared higher and higher toward the sun...and melted the wax. His feathers lost, Icarus fell from heaven to drown in the sea.
To this day, the place where he drowned is known as The Icarian Sea.
Poor Icarus...the epitome of teenage recklessness gone wrong.
A good number of Greek myths focus on the foolishness of ordinary humans trying to be like the Gods. For centuries (particularly in the Renaissance when all things Classical came back into fashion in Europe) Icarus was known as "the boy who flew too high." This isn't a reflection of his physical flight: the detrimental effects of hubris (defined most simply as excessive pride or defiance of the Gods) is a constant theme in Greek myth. To those who heard the story in ancient Greece, Icarus foolishly rose too high and paid the price: the fact that his father, who flew the middle path and survived, was the expected validation in a society often espousing the virtues of moderation and not tempting Fate or catching the attention of the Gods.
It's important to note that neither Daedalus nor Icarus had any God-touched qualities in any story I've found. These are not half-immortal men who gain the notice of the Gods through their blood and deeds. These are ordinary, creative, intelligent human beings (with nothing special other than Daedalus's masterwork in craftsmanship). That's key because the hubris theme is very often specific to pure humans: demi-gods (Herakles/Hercules) are EXPECTED to challenge the Gods and often suffer hardship because of it. Humans are generally punished swiftly and severely for pride and defiance. Icarus did defy his father's moderate advice, and he paid for it.
Personally, I think it's interesting that the focus of discussion and morality for this tale is always Icarus's youthful idiocy (seriously...do you know ANY teenagers who don't do foolish or reckless things, believing in their own immortality?). Is it possible Icarus's death was a sort of punishment for Daedalus's hubris, in creating both the Labyrinth AND the wings? I can interpret it both ways because both Icarus and Daedalus suffered, but historically the tragedy of Icarus's death is purely due to his impulse to fly as high as the Gods.
Monday, December 29, 2014
Mythic Monday: Huldra
I haven't Mythic Monday'd in a while...but post-Samhain we move into the traditional storytelling season. It seems appropriate to begin with tonight's Scandinavian myth, since the Norse were serious about their stories during the long, dark winter nights (not unlike the great-grandmas who can't see you tonight because their STORIES are on T.V.).
Disclaimer: you stopped here because you're searching for the gun manufacturer, sorry to disappoint but BOY have you landed in the wrong space. You've probably already figured out I'm not discussing the virtues and drawbacks of a gas-piston rifle and wandered off to HuldraArms.com. If you're still here, feel free to hang out and discover your gun is named for a hot female...who occasionally becomes a (literal) man-eating monster.
Also, while researching today's creature I found this: Huldra And Victim creation app. It's horrifyingly wonderful.
It's possible I wasted some time playing with online doll versions of pretty woodland people-ish entities...who eat their victims (presumably after the sex part, like a Norse Preying Mantis without the extra limbs). I sort of wish I could get a couple made for the family members who have a doll-phobia, but that's another story.
The Huldra (or Hulder: I'll use them interchangeably here because the terms aren't linguistically different in meaning) is a fascinating figure in Scandinavian mythology whose story and attributes changed as Christianity spread throughout the area. She is both beautiful and monstrous, naked and clothed, helpful and vengeful, compliant and deadly: all depending on how she's treated.
In the Pagan era myths, she is consistently described as a beautiful wild woman of the forest, who has an animal tail. In Norway the tail is always a cow's: in southern Sweden it could be a cow's or fox's. The further north you are, the more likely she has either a hollow back or a back covered in tree bark. Regardless, there is always something just a bit animal or forest about her.
In the earliest myths, the Hulder was often a seductive woodland fairy nymph, and was usually recognizable as something other than a human woman only because of the tail. Dealing with the Hulder is somewhat similar to the Irish Celtic ideals of dealing with Fairies: politeness is paramount, satisfaction is rewarded. It's also interesting to point out the Hulder myths don't have a lot of mortal women involved (in general, the Hulder appear to be a temptation to men alone, much like a Succubus, only without the demonic aspects).
There is a male version, the Huldercarl, who acts in a similar manner as the Hulder only toward women: the gender specificity implies both the Hulder and Huldercarl are examples of man and woman dealing with the dangers and bounty of the wild.
Legend has it, a man (or woman) who is kind, polite, and sexually satisfying is rewarded by the Hulder/Huldercarl. However, every power comes with a price. The old myths of Hulder include her ability and willingness to kill, and even eat, those who didn't satisfy her. The implication in the tales is definitely sexual satisfaction, but it's important to note that rude or inhospitable behavior could just as easily offend. The Huldercarls' myths don't include the sexual implications of satisfy-or-I-kill-you, which perhaps reflects ancient Norse views on sex to a certain extent: it's possible to infer a supposition that females are harder to please, and therefore only those skilled enough could win her favor. At the same time, it's possible the Huldercarls' satisfaction was assumed simply out of an idea that males are less difficult to please, and also possibly that women weren't expected to "work" as hard at sex. MANY fairy myths involving sex imply that it takes great skill to satisfy a woman: this could also just be another area of prowess for the Hero cycle of a story.
In the earlier myths it appears the reward was protection by a superhuman entity. Imagine what Scandinavia was like before roads and effective land-clearing techniques: the forests were so thick and inhospitable they literally made isolated "islands" of arable land and could cut off huge swaths of area between towns. The Vikings weren't seafaring folk just out of convenience, but out of shipping and communication necessity. Dark things lived in those forests, from trolls to bandits to bears, and a Hulder whose favor you've gained could potentially protect you and your family from ALL of them. That's nothing to scoff at, and was actually so highly regarded even as Christiantiy took over the area the luck of befriending a Hulder was incorporated as acceptable practice.
Christianity spread over the Norse slower than the rest of Europe (indeed, partly due to the isolation of the land), but eventually it did effect the details of the Hulder/Huldercarl. One Christianized tale says the Hulder were once mortal children who weren't washed by their mother: the "unclean" children became Hulder. This isn't terribly different from the Christian myth of the Fae, who were God's angels who didn't take sides in the war in Heaven, and so fell but only to Earth, not to Hell with Lucifer and his band.
As time went on, the Huldra became pretty milkmaids who looked completely human and innocent except for the tail, but if a farmer could win her heart and convert her to the faith the tail would fall away (as she loses her fairy immortality and becomes mortal and "saved"). Hulder and Huldercarl lost their danger AND their protective abilities, and were relegated to rather benign figures in pastoral life: simple cattle herders who brought luck and prosperity if you were able to convert and marry one, but the threat had been nullified. Domesticated.
Of course, who knows if they were ever truly domesticated...
Norway, by the way, produces some wonderful movies about Norse mythology, including one about the Huldra. I saw it recently on Netflix, and recommend it if you're interested: Thale.
Disclaimer: you stopped here because you're searching for the gun manufacturer, sorry to disappoint but BOY have you landed in the wrong space. You've probably already figured out I'm not discussing the virtues and drawbacks of a gas-piston rifle and wandered off to HuldraArms.com. If you're still here, feel free to hang out and discover your gun is named for a hot female...who occasionally becomes a (literal) man-eating monster.
 |
| Image: Wikipedia |
Also, while researching today's creature I found this: Huldra And Victim creation app. It's horrifyingly wonderful.
It's possible I wasted some time playing with online doll versions of pretty woodland people-ish entities...who eat their victims (presumably after the sex part, like a Norse Preying Mantis without the extra limbs). I sort of wish I could get a couple made for the family members who have a doll-phobia, but that's another story.
The Huldra (or Hulder: I'll use them interchangeably here because the terms aren't linguistically different in meaning) is a fascinating figure in Scandinavian mythology whose story and attributes changed as Christianity spread throughout the area. She is both beautiful and monstrous, naked and clothed, helpful and vengeful, compliant and deadly: all depending on how she's treated.
In the Pagan era myths, she is consistently described as a beautiful wild woman of the forest, who has an animal tail. In Norway the tail is always a cow's: in southern Sweden it could be a cow's or fox's. The further north you are, the more likely she has either a hollow back or a back covered in tree bark. Regardless, there is always something just a bit animal or forest about her.
In the earliest myths, the Hulder was often a seductive woodland fairy nymph, and was usually recognizable as something other than a human woman only because of the tail. Dealing with the Hulder is somewhat similar to the Irish Celtic ideals of dealing with Fairies: politeness is paramount, satisfaction is rewarded. It's also interesting to point out the Hulder myths don't have a lot of mortal women involved (in general, the Hulder appear to be a temptation to men alone, much like a Succubus, only without the demonic aspects).
There is a male version, the Huldercarl, who acts in a similar manner as the Hulder only toward women: the gender specificity implies both the Hulder and Huldercarl are examples of man and woman dealing with the dangers and bounty of the wild.
Legend has it, a man (or woman) who is kind, polite, and sexually satisfying is rewarded by the Hulder/Huldercarl. However, every power comes with a price. The old myths of Hulder include her ability and willingness to kill, and even eat, those who didn't satisfy her. The implication in the tales is definitely sexual satisfaction, but it's important to note that rude or inhospitable behavior could just as easily offend. The Huldercarls' myths don't include the sexual implications of satisfy-or-I-kill-you, which perhaps reflects ancient Norse views on sex to a certain extent: it's possible to infer a supposition that females are harder to please, and therefore only those skilled enough could win her favor. At the same time, it's possible the Huldercarls' satisfaction was assumed simply out of an idea that males are less difficult to please, and also possibly that women weren't expected to "work" as hard at sex. MANY fairy myths involving sex imply that it takes great skill to satisfy a woman: this could also just be another area of prowess for the Hero cycle of a story.
In the earlier myths it appears the reward was protection by a superhuman entity. Imagine what Scandinavia was like before roads and effective land-clearing techniques: the forests were so thick and inhospitable they literally made isolated "islands" of arable land and could cut off huge swaths of area between towns. The Vikings weren't seafaring folk just out of convenience, but out of shipping and communication necessity. Dark things lived in those forests, from trolls to bandits to bears, and a Hulder whose favor you've gained could potentially protect you and your family from ALL of them. That's nothing to scoff at, and was actually so highly regarded even as Christiantiy took over the area the luck of befriending a Hulder was incorporated as acceptable practice.
Christianity spread over the Norse slower than the rest of Europe (indeed, partly due to the isolation of the land), but eventually it did effect the details of the Hulder/Huldercarl. One Christianized tale says the Hulder were once mortal children who weren't washed by their mother: the "unclean" children became Hulder. This isn't terribly different from the Christian myth of the Fae, who were God's angels who didn't take sides in the war in Heaven, and so fell but only to Earth, not to Hell with Lucifer and his band.
As time went on, the Huldra became pretty milkmaids who looked completely human and innocent except for the tail, but if a farmer could win her heart and convert her to the faith the tail would fall away (as she loses her fairy immortality and becomes mortal and "saved"). Hulder and Huldercarl lost their danger AND their protective abilities, and were relegated to rather benign figures in pastoral life: simple cattle herders who brought luck and prosperity if you were able to convert and marry one, but the threat had been nullified. Domesticated.
Of course, who knows if they were ever truly domesticated...
Norway, by the way, produces some wonderful movies about Norse mythology, including one about the Huldra. I saw it recently on Netflix, and recommend it if you're interested: Thale.
Monday, September 22, 2014
It IS A SNAKE DEN GODDAMMIT! (Also, Mythic Monday - The Headless Horseman)
Listen up people. A couple weeks ago I specifically asked if THIS is a snake den:
Tonight I discovered it INDEED IS...when I brought boxes out the front door and SAW the bastard's head sticking out of the hole. Do you KNOW how many holes there are in my front garden along the walkway? Lots. Enough that he clearly has a while fricken network under there...and he was LOOKING AT ME. If I can get an actual picture (without getting eaten) tomorrow, I will. And no, I couldn't see enough of his head to tell if it was one of the three that can kill me here.
I am not impressed. Husband and family are amused. I hate everyone. That is all.
Moving on.
I missed two Mythic Mondays because I had a cold from hell. Therefore, I'm returning some hellishness in tonight's MM, in honor of my favorite season AND the season two premier of Sleepy Hollow, which I adore. Tom Mison's Ichabod Crane is NOT the weasely, big nosed, wimpy dude in Washington Irving's tale: his interpretations of the silliness of modern culture (compared to 1776) is fantastic. In addition, being the mythology freak I am I LOVE where the writers took the Headless Horseman tale...but that's all I'll say since spoilers are just rude.
So. Washington Irving wrote a short story in the 1820 called The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. If you haven't read it, go forth and get it for Halloween: it's wonderful. It's not the original: it's just the first American version of the tale of a headless horseman.
Irving's Horseman was a Hessian (Germanic) mercenary fighting for the British in the American Revolution whose head was removed by a cannonball. Cursed, he rides the roads around Sleepy Hollow, searching for his head and generally causing havoc...including taking heads. It's entirely possible the Galloping Hessian started during the war as terror propaganda, after all, and Irving only wrote the story down forty years later: no reason he wouldn't have heard some handed down scary tale from an old war veteran when he was a child. What better way to demonize the losing side than by making a monster out of their soldiers?
But Sleepy Hollow wasn't the first town to get a Headless Horseman. The Grimm boys found a Headless horseman tale in their wanderings around Germany. Yes indeedy: the same Germany which produced the Hessian mercenaries...it's possible our legend came over to America with them, or with the Dutch settlers in New York. Interestingly, The Grimms reportedly SAW the Horseman...twice. Quite impressive, really: HH in every version was pretty darn violent and heads were generally taken.
In Ireland the HH was Dullahan: a SERIOUSLY TERRIFYING headless man in black who chases down people on Halloween and throws buckets of blood. If the blood hits you, or if he calls out your name, you're going to die the next day. This is not a children's story villain who throws scary carved gourds at people and runs away. Much like the Banshee, only more aggressive (no wailing for this guy), Dullahan and Banshees are sometimes seen together, chasing people down in a chariot pulled by six black horses and using a human SPINE as a whip.
Yeah. Pleasant. Obviously Dullahan owned the original Mortal Kombat fatality bonus move.
In any case, the Galloping Hessian of Sleepy Hollow may be the first Headless Horseman legend in the Americas, but he's definitely not the last. Many states have a version of the creature in some Halloween tale. In Texas there's a legend of a beheaded horsethief who wanders the countryside on a grey horse. (Maybe he'll come take care of my snake problem). Even Disney got in on the HH act, not only with an Ichabod Crane cartoon but with the Horseman showing up places like Fantasia and Mickey's House of Mouse.
I personally suspect the HH is a throwback to legends of The Wild Hunt. Truly, The Hunt deserves its own blog post which is in the works for October, as there are variations of the Gods and/or the Fae (depending on your area) tearing across the countryside (and woe to they who get in the way, or even SEE). But I do see some connections between a Headless Horseman who haunts and chases down night travelers in vengeance for his violent death and the Fae riding down the unwary, who are never seen again.
Bottom line? If you hear thundering hooves on Halloween night, run like hell and don't look back. It could be the Horseman, come to collect your head.
 |
| .I HAVE A SNAKIPEDER IN MY GODDAMNED GARDEN! |
I am not impressed. Husband and family are amused. I hate everyone. That is all.
Moving on.
I missed two Mythic Mondays because I had a cold from hell. Therefore, I'm returning some hellishness in tonight's MM, in honor of my favorite season AND the season two premier of Sleepy Hollow, which I adore. Tom Mison's Ichabod Crane is NOT the weasely, big nosed, wimpy dude in Washington Irving's tale: his interpretations of the silliness of modern culture (compared to 1776) is fantastic. In addition, being the mythology freak I am I LOVE where the writers took the Headless Horseman tale...but that's all I'll say since spoilers are just rude.
So. Washington Irving wrote a short story in the 1820 called The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. If you haven't read it, go forth and get it for Halloween: it's wonderful. It's not the original: it's just the first American version of the tale of a headless horseman.
Irving's Horseman was a Hessian (Germanic) mercenary fighting for the British in the American Revolution whose head was removed by a cannonball. Cursed, he rides the roads around Sleepy Hollow, searching for his head and generally causing havoc...including taking heads. It's entirely possible the Galloping Hessian started during the war as terror propaganda, after all, and Irving only wrote the story down forty years later: no reason he wouldn't have heard some handed down scary tale from an old war veteran when he was a child. What better way to demonize the losing side than by making a monster out of their soldiers?
But Sleepy Hollow wasn't the first town to get a Headless Horseman. The Grimm boys found a Headless horseman tale in their wanderings around Germany. Yes indeedy: the same Germany which produced the Hessian mercenaries...it's possible our legend came over to America with them, or with the Dutch settlers in New York. Interestingly, The Grimms reportedly SAW the Horseman...twice. Quite impressive, really: HH in every version was pretty darn violent and heads were generally taken.
In Ireland the HH was Dullahan: a SERIOUSLY TERRIFYING headless man in black who chases down people on Halloween and throws buckets of blood. If the blood hits you, or if he calls out your name, you're going to die the next day. This is not a children's story villain who throws scary carved gourds at people and runs away. Much like the Banshee, only more aggressive (no wailing for this guy), Dullahan and Banshees are sometimes seen together, chasing people down in a chariot pulled by six black horses and using a human SPINE as a whip.
Yeah. Pleasant. Obviously Dullahan owned the original Mortal Kombat fatality bonus move.
In any case, the Galloping Hessian of Sleepy Hollow may be the first Headless Horseman legend in the Americas, but he's definitely not the last. Many states have a version of the creature in some Halloween tale. In Texas there's a legend of a beheaded horsethief who wanders the countryside on a grey horse. (Maybe he'll come take care of my snake problem). Even Disney got in on the HH act, not only with an Ichabod Crane cartoon but with the Horseman showing up places like Fantasia and Mickey's House of Mouse.
I personally suspect the HH is a throwback to legends of The Wild Hunt. Truly, The Hunt deserves its own blog post which is in the works for October, as there are variations of the Gods and/or the Fae (depending on your area) tearing across the countryside (and woe to they who get in the way, or even SEE). But I do see some connections between a Headless Horseman who haunts and chases down night travelers in vengeance for his violent death and the Fae riding down the unwary, who are never seen again.
Bottom line? If you hear thundering hooves on Halloween night, run like hell and don't look back. It could be the Horseman, come to collect your head.
Monday, September 01, 2014
Mythic Monday: Brownie
Help Wanted: small brownish creature willing to help clean my house, ride the dogs around in the middle of the night, organize as necessary, and remain hidden. Payment: various foodstuffs including porridge (when available), honey, chocolate, and heavy cream. Lodging and privacy included. Tolerance for iron in the house required.
People, I desperately need a Brownie.
I spent a good chunk of my weekend organizing and cleaning, and it's completely true that those with children and dogs are just wasting their time on a wheel of frustration when attempting to clean. And therefore, tonight I'm lamenting the overabundance of iron in my house and the utter lack of brownies, whom I'd GLADLY leave treats if one graced my home with her presence.
If you google "Brownie" you'll get a variety of tasty baked goods...as far as I know these do not clean. In fact, I've proven on many occasions baked brownies have a magical ability to increase pounds but absolutely no ability to clean. They are terribly underwhelming as domestic help, except for easing crankiness brought on by chocolate cravings.
No, I'm referring to the small Fae people-ish creatures who, in Scots-Irish folklore, are rather famously helpful in the home as long as they're properly cared for. Brownies are often considered a member of the Hob family (as in, hobgoblin, only benevolent): a small, shy creature who aids in household tasks if rewarded with food. Most often, porridge and honey, although those two options date back to the days when porridge and honey were pretty standard household fare. I wonder if Lucky Charms would work, or if it would just piss them off?
You do NOT want to piss off the creature who helps keep your house tidy and organized. Seriously. Bad things happen to people who abuse the Fae in general...particularly a human-like creature the size of a lemur who just happens to know ALL the secrets and ALL the places in your house to hide things.
Brownies traditionally don't have any interest in being seen: they're active at night when the family is asleep, and live in unused parts of the house. For a time it was custom to leave a seat open by the fire in the kitchen for the resident Brownie, in thanks for their protection and work (along with the ever-important food offerings, which are a must to keep your Brownie happy...I really can't stress the food thing enough).
Unfortunately, Brownies, like all the Fae, have a severe aversion to iron. This means burying a nail under the threshold of your front door or hanging a horseshoe in your home will keep brownies (along with the rest of the Fae) at bay. Oh, did you think the horseshoe thing was a luck attractor? I suppose it was...as it was considered lucky to be passed over when the Fae are around, since they're somewhat capricious and not at always kind. I suppose it's the price to pay for keeping out kobolds, hobgoblins, and other nasties...but I DO sometimes wish modern homes were built without nails.
I need some household help, and I have plenty of Lucky Charms, milk, and honey to spare.
People, I desperately need a Brownie.
I spent a good chunk of my weekend organizing and cleaning, and it's completely true that those with children and dogs are just wasting their time on a wheel of frustration when attempting to clean. And therefore, tonight I'm lamenting the overabundance of iron in my house and the utter lack of brownies, whom I'd GLADLY leave treats if one graced my home with her presence.
If you google "Brownie" you'll get a variety of tasty baked goods...as far as I know these do not clean. In fact, I've proven on many occasions baked brownies have a magical ability to increase pounds but absolutely no ability to clean. They are terribly underwhelming as domestic help, except for easing crankiness brought on by chocolate cravings.
No, I'm referring to the small Fae people-ish creatures who, in Scots-Irish folklore, are rather famously helpful in the home as long as they're properly cared for. Brownies are often considered a member of the Hob family (as in, hobgoblin, only benevolent): a small, shy creature who aids in household tasks if rewarded with food. Most often, porridge and honey, although those two options date back to the days when porridge and honey were pretty standard household fare. I wonder if Lucky Charms would work, or if it would just piss them off?
You do NOT want to piss off the creature who helps keep your house tidy and organized. Seriously. Bad things happen to people who abuse the Fae in general...particularly a human-like creature the size of a lemur who just happens to know ALL the secrets and ALL the places in your house to hide things.
Brownies traditionally don't have any interest in being seen: they're active at night when the family is asleep, and live in unused parts of the house. For a time it was custom to leave a seat open by the fire in the kitchen for the resident Brownie, in thanks for their protection and work (along with the ever-important food offerings, which are a must to keep your Brownie happy...I really can't stress the food thing enough).
Unfortunately, Brownies, like all the Fae, have a severe aversion to iron. This means burying a nail under the threshold of your front door or hanging a horseshoe in your home will keep brownies (along with the rest of the Fae) at bay. Oh, did you think the horseshoe thing was a luck attractor? I suppose it was...as it was considered lucky to be passed over when the Fae are around, since they're somewhat capricious and not at always kind. I suppose it's the price to pay for keeping out kobolds, hobgoblins, and other nasties...but I DO sometimes wish modern homes were built without nails.
I need some household help, and I have plenty of Lucky Charms, milk, and honey to spare.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Mythic Monday: Artemis and Actaeon
It's Mythic Monday, and I'm writing tonight about Artemis and her vengeance upon a peeping Greek.
But first, you should know I have a bit of a problem with blank paper. I CAN'T STOP BUYING IT. While unpacking a corner of my office today (we better renew the lease here, because fuck if I want to pack all this shit up again in eight months!) I found no less than FIVE of the big 5-subject notebooks and six smaller notebooks/notepads. Good lord.
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| Those are all blank notebooks. For writing. The blank journals (for JOURNALING, duh) are in a different space. |
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| Slowly but surely, I'm digging out my office. A corner at a time. |
Artemis is the daughter of Zeus and Leto, a mortal woman who was seduced (or raped, depending on the version) by the God when he was in the form of a swan. Yeah. Not weird at all.
Artemis is goddess of the hunt, of all things wild, of the moon, and of innocent independence. I mean innocent in a specific way: she's the patron goddess of maidens and all things free of man's interference. She's described as the virgin huntress. There is some debate on the translation to English "virgin" as we think of it now, as it truly meant unmarried (not necessarily chaste, which specifically meant non-sexual). However, Artemis is often described as chaste as well: uninterested in the attentions of any man. Her twin brother, Apollo, generally has enough male and female sexual company to make up for her lack of it anyway, but he's another story.
Honestly, Artemis could be a book unto herself. I chose one specific story tonight because it's the epitome of her response to being lusted after by both men and gods. In fact, many of Artemis' stories deal with her avoiding or thwarting rape, which is really disturbing if you stop and consider the implications, both for men and women.
So. Actaeon, the unfortunate soul in this tale, is actually a hero from Thebes. He's a great hunter and warrior, and famed for his hunting dogs. One day while chasing a stag into the woods, his dogs lead him to a sacred pool where Artemis is bathing. Transfixed by her beauty and, well, Goddessness (I mean, I'd likely stare as well, having never seen a goddess before in person), he stares. For a very long time.
Now here's where things get a bit tricky. In some more recent versions, Artemis gives him the option to save himself. As punishment, she takes his ability to speak and warns him that the moment he tries he'll be turned into a stag himself. In earlier versions, she just immediately transforms him into the very beast he was chasing on her land. The distinction is a key difference between a thought-out, rational punishment and a reactionary "gut-instinct" punishment.
If he can control himself he'll live, in the first version. After all, he didn't actually try to rape her, so her punishment is more about no man ever seeing her naked and living to TELL about it. AS long as he keeps his mouth shut, he's fine.
Of course, he can't. In every variation I found of the "removal of speech" story, Actaeon is unable to be silent. He calls out when he hears his hunting party approaching (maybe to call them over, maybe to warn them away: no one could know). In that instant a sound emerges from his mouth, he's turned to a stag.
The ultimate price he pays is the same in both versions: hounds (either his own, the Goddess's, or both) run him down in his stag form and tear him to pieces. Generally in the versions where Artemis changes him to a stag immediately it's his own hounds who take him down. That's actually a bit in ALL the tales: tear him to pieces, not eat him or kill him or destroy him: tear him to pieces. Seems rather important, since it's the phrase that's repeated throughout retellings. The violence and manner of his death have led some scholars to theorize this is a tale of sacrifice to the Gods. I have to say I don't agree (with the caveat that I am not a Greek Mythology PhD in any form, so I can only read translations, which could be wrong).
I see this story as a characterization of her determination to remain free and unencumbered. What mate could be better for her, after all, than a near-hero status hunter? Yet even he, in a scene often used in myth to precede sex (accidentally finding him/her bathing) and even love, is unable to tame her. I think this is a tale that intentionally reinforces Artemis is the ultimate untame-able wild. She will not submit to anyone.
Artemis is a favorite Goddess of mine.
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| Not actually shooting at anything. Except the office wall. |
Monday, August 18, 2014
Mythic Monday - Banshee
Are you of Irish, Scottish, or Welsh descent?
Is your clan name O'Grady, O'Neill, Caomhanachs, , O'Conchobhair, or O'Briain?
What about O'Grady, O'Neill, Kavanaugh, O'Connor, or O'Brien?
Then you may have a Banshee. Do not be alarmed: they're not the screaming monster portrayed on World of Warcraft. I'll explain the clan names in just a bit.
In Gaelic, she'd be called Bean Sidhe, Bean Sith, Bean Nighe, Bean Shidhe, Bean Shithe, or Bean Si. Perhaps now is a good time to point out that "si" in Gaelic is the "sh" sound. There are a few different takes on the Banshee and her duties, but ultimately they all deal with death.
The Banshee is a Faery woman associated most often with The Morrigan, Goddess of battle, war, and death (as well as many other things, including fertility, sovereignty, horses, and so on.). The Morrigan is a deity particularly close to my heart, and deserves a full post of her own. As an occasional messenger for The Morrigan, Banshees are often associated with ravens or owls. Modern mythologists speculate the Banshee's wail is actually the cry of an owl, which is also considered a warning that Death is coming for someone.
Banshees are known mostly for two acts: wailing to warn of an impending death (or wailing immediately after the death occurs), and appearing in a vision to the doomed-to-die. Interestingly, in the older tales banshees also served a purpose similar to the Valkyrie in Norse myth: guides to the afterlife for those who died on the battlefield. I'd imagine that's a large and stressful job, considering the number of souls on a post-war battlefield who wander about.
The most-told version of the Banshee's appearance to a warrior is as The Washer at the Ford: a woman washing the bloody clothes of he who is about to die. IN this guise she's called the Bean Nighe, the washerwoman. This is a direct link back to The Morrigan, who performed the same warning for Cu Chulainn in her myth cycle. Perhaps Cu Chulainn was such a hero his portend of death could only be delivered by a Goddess, not "just" a Banshee. In some tales, the Banshee work directly for The Morrigan, in others they're just fulfilling their ancient function, as sensing and warning of death is their only purpose.
As the Banshee who wails to warn of an impending death, she's often described as a sad, grey woman in grey or white clothes, nearly colorless in pallor. Sometimes she wears a red or green cloak. Sometimes she's combing her pale hair. She could be gorgeous or ghoul, depending on the story (and as this IS a culture famous for storytelling, I expect her terrible or wondrous appearance directly coincides with the time of year, the audience, and the person for whom she wails).
As the Washer at the Ford, she's sometimes a smelly, disgusting hag in tattered filthy clothes, sometimes a beautiful woman. In some areas the superstition lives, still, that should you find a comb on the road, leave it be: it's likely a Banshee's, and you do NOT want to catch her attention. She may or may not actively bring Death, but she certainly has Death's ear, after all.
I've often wondered if she's content with her purpose in this universe, constantly dealing with death and sorrow even when Death is a welcome visitor (as, occasionally, Death may become).
So where do the names come into play?
In Celtic funerary tradition, when a person dies a woman with a lovely voice would sing the lament: a song for the dead, a song of sorrow for those left behind who'll miss the deceased's presence in their lives. A tearful, wailing, keen of sadness. My personal favorite example is Morag's Lament, from Rob Roy. This
It was believed that royal or lord's families received their lamentations from Fairy women due to their importance. Of course, that could have been a way to inflate their own legend, but you just never know. Tradition says there were five clans who had a permanent banshee attached to their family (some lists expand to seven through intermarriage of clans)...indeed, those I listed. King James I of Scotland is reported to have heard the Banshee's wail before he died in 1437.
The most recent reporting of a Banshee's service? 1948.
My husband is of Irish descent...his family name is in that list.
Is your clan name O'Grady, O'Neill, Caomhanachs, , O'Conchobhair, or O'Briain?
What about O'Grady, O'Neill, Kavanaugh, O'Connor, or O'Brien?
Then you may have a Banshee. Do not be alarmed: they're not the screaming monster portrayed on World of Warcraft. I'll explain the clan names in just a bit.
In Gaelic, she'd be called Bean Sidhe, Bean Sith, Bean Nighe, Bean Shidhe, Bean Shithe, or Bean Si. Perhaps now is a good time to point out that "si" in Gaelic is the "sh" sound. There are a few different takes on the Banshee and her duties, but ultimately they all deal with death.
The Banshee is a Faery woman associated most often with The Morrigan, Goddess of battle, war, and death (as well as many other things, including fertility, sovereignty, horses, and so on.). The Morrigan is a deity particularly close to my heart, and deserves a full post of her own. As an occasional messenger for The Morrigan, Banshees are often associated with ravens or owls. Modern mythologists speculate the Banshee's wail is actually the cry of an owl, which is also considered a warning that Death is coming for someone.
Banshees are known mostly for two acts: wailing to warn of an impending death (or wailing immediately after the death occurs), and appearing in a vision to the doomed-to-die. Interestingly, in the older tales banshees also served a purpose similar to the Valkyrie in Norse myth: guides to the afterlife for those who died on the battlefield. I'd imagine that's a large and stressful job, considering the number of souls on a post-war battlefield who wander about.
The most-told version of the Banshee's appearance to a warrior is as The Washer at the Ford: a woman washing the bloody clothes of he who is about to die. IN this guise she's called the Bean Nighe, the washerwoman. This is a direct link back to The Morrigan, who performed the same warning for Cu Chulainn in her myth cycle. Perhaps Cu Chulainn was such a hero his portend of death could only be delivered by a Goddess, not "just" a Banshee. In some tales, the Banshee work directly for The Morrigan, in others they're just fulfilling their ancient function, as sensing and warning of death is their only purpose.
As the Banshee who wails to warn of an impending death, she's often described as a sad, grey woman in grey or white clothes, nearly colorless in pallor. Sometimes she wears a red or green cloak. Sometimes she's combing her pale hair. She could be gorgeous or ghoul, depending on the story (and as this IS a culture famous for storytelling, I expect her terrible or wondrous appearance directly coincides with the time of year, the audience, and the person for whom she wails).
As the Washer at the Ford, she's sometimes a smelly, disgusting hag in tattered filthy clothes, sometimes a beautiful woman. In some areas the superstition lives, still, that should you find a comb on the road, leave it be: it's likely a Banshee's, and you do NOT want to catch her attention. She may or may not actively bring Death, but she certainly has Death's ear, after all.
I've often wondered if she's content with her purpose in this universe, constantly dealing with death and sorrow even when Death is a welcome visitor (as, occasionally, Death may become).
So where do the names come into play?
In Celtic funerary tradition, when a person dies a woman with a lovely voice would sing the lament: a song for the dead, a song of sorrow for those left behind who'll miss the deceased's presence in their lives. A tearful, wailing, keen of sadness. My personal favorite example is Morag's Lament, from Rob Roy. This
It was believed that royal or lord's families received their lamentations from Fairy women due to their importance. Of course, that could have been a way to inflate their own legend, but you just never know. Tradition says there were five clans who had a permanent banshee attached to their family (some lists expand to seven through intermarriage of clans)...indeed, those I listed. King James I of Scotland is reported to have heard the Banshee's wail before he died in 1437.
The most recent reporting of a Banshee's service? 1948.
My husband is of Irish descent...his family name is in that list.
Friday, August 15, 2014
Mythic Monday (Sort of): Yggdrasill - If You Can Pronounce It, You May Be A Viking
First, I'm late. I know it. There was death and sadness that I found really odd since I didn't know the man at all except for the characters he played but I felt sad anyway. And then there were assholes making snarky superior comments about how Robin Williams is going to hell for committing suicide, and then there was angry me changing the theme of Mythic Monday this week six times because I was SO LIVID at the bitch at work who made said comments I had a whole post planned on hubris and arrogance...
And then someone found my blog by searching lilith spurned adam ,marries satan (typed exactly as found) and I chuckled and remembered MY anger over her judgmental bitch behavior won't do a stitch of good. And...I spelled "stitch" incorrectly the first time around. Proofreading: it's not just for English Majors anymore.
And so I'm back on my original post topic...potentially with fewer fragments and more actual sentences. (My apologies, Mr. Benson.)
Crap. The period goes INSIDE the parentheses in this case, right? Sigh. Honestly it doesn't matter one bit: spellchecker is going to explode with this post anyway.
Moving on.
Norse Cosmology (not creation and the gods, just the worlds)...because I plan on doing a post on other excellent stories (like Thor fishing for Jormungand in the sea around Midgard) but in order to do so a prequel must be presented for those who aren't Astaru or Heathen or just mythology freaks like me. (If I'm incorrect on anything here, those of you who ARE Astaru or Heathen or just better vested into Norse myth than I am, please comment).
Also: Norse mythologies use spellings from Old Norse, Modern Norwegian, Icelandic (which is VERY close to Old Norse but not exactly the same), Modern Swedish, Modern Danish, and of course the English translations.
What I'm saying here is that there are MULTIPLE spelling nuances for most of these names. Please try not to rip my head off because I spelled something different from your usual use (particularly if you use it in your spiritual beliefs)...I just picked one relatively consistent spelling and went with it across the board.
The Norse universe is set up in sets of three. Yes, three IS the number and the number shall be three. I am not going into Gods here, just the cosmos for now.
The universe itself is made up of three...hmm...plates, or levels. Envision one of those china caddy things that hold plates horizontal yet separated from each other, so they're stacked but not touching. This is the universe: three "plates" set up with space above and below each. And just as you'd imagine, the top level is the one with the most light while the bottom has the most shadow.
The top level houses Asgard, Vanaheim, and Alfheim. The Aesir gods dwell here in their halls, and Valhalla (which is seriously a full post on it's own merits, which I have planned), the hall of the warrior dead. Also located in Asgard is the site of Ragnarok (the battle at the end of time between all gods, men, and monsters): Vigrid, a battle plain so vast it's a sea of land. I envision something like the Great Plains, or the Steppes of Russia and Mongolia, but ultimately Asgard was, as you'd expect, enormous.
Asgard - land of the Aesir, the warrior gods
Vanaheim - land of the Vanir, the fertility gods (until they united with the Aesir, anyway)
Alfheim - land of the light elves.
Below Asgard, in the second level, is Midgard, the world of man.
Midgard is the level surrounded by a never-ending ocean, and Jormungand, the serpent dwelling at the bottom of the sea who's so long he bites his own tail.
Midgard - land of man.
Nidavellir - Dark Home, land of dwarves, in the Northern caves and potholes (I wonder occasionally if they wear hardhats and reflective vests while they're fixing potholes?)
Svartalfheim - land of dark elves, in the Northern underground.
Jotunheim - land of giants, in the Eastern Mountains along the coast.
The way between Asgard and Midgard is the Bifrost, the rainbow bridge. Those of you who've seen the Thor movies know exactly what I'm talking about: they truly did a fantastic job.
The third level, the darkest, is Niflheim, the world of the dead. The citadel of Niflheim is Hel, a world of it's own. However, in some of the creation myths Niflheim and Hel are combined into one and the ninth world is Muspellheim, land of fire. Interestingly, and in typical Norse circular fashion...the "big bang" in the universe which CREATED the levels and nine worlds occurred when Niflheim, land of ice, collided with Muspellheim, land of fire. Yes, it's confusing. Now, even more confusing is the idea that Niflheim contains the PLACE "Hel" and has since creation. Dwelling in Hel is the monster/creature, Hel, who is the daughter of Loki (who hasn't happened yet, if creation just banged when the two worlds collided to form the underworld). The dead must pass THROUGH Hel the creature to reach Hel the citadel and finally to get to Niflheim.
The center of all three levels, at the center of the UNIVERSE, is the ash tree, Yggdrasill, the World or Guardian Tree. Yggdrasill's branches reach above out over all the worlds and over heaven, and its three roots are planted in Asgard at the Well of Urd (Fate); in Jotunheim at the Spring of Mimir (Knowledge); and in Niflheim at the Spring of Hvergelmir (the source of eleven rivers).
Yggdrasill truly is presented as a sort of all encompassing Tree of Knowledge, Ark, and central pillar of sustenance to the universe. Yggdrasill is where Odin sacrificed his eye to drink from the Spring o Mimir to gain his vast knowledge. Near the Spring of Hvergelmir dwells the great dragon Nidhogg, who gnaws at the root of the world tree. Deer, goats, eagles, squirrels all live on the tree and eat from it. Ratatosk the squirrel carries insults from Nidhogg at the root of the tree up to the eagle who lives in the uppermost branches. The Well of Urd, or Fate, is where the Norns reside, the goddesses of destiny who carefully tend their root to keep the tree healthy with all the creatures damaging it for their survival.
Yggdrasill is so powerful, it survives Ragnarok, the final battle at the end of the world. It truly is the central, stable being of Norse myth.
For those of you who want pronunciations...honestly there's no way I can phonetically spell the neat Norse "ou" sound, which isn't the same as "hound" or "wound." It's a Minnesota (minnesooota) accent thing, I suppose, so I can pronounce it but I can't WRITE it properly.
In general, Y sounds like a short 'i' (dig). J is usually a "y" (yes). LLs have a bit of a roll to them.
The other part of Norse language that's difficult to convey in writing is the rocking rhythm of the words themselves. Poetry, after all, was the primary source of entertainment and storytelling for a reason for a people with a rocking-horse style of speaking Ragnarok would be RAg-na-ROK.
Now, go forth and practice Hvergelmir (VER gel meer, g is hard) and Jotunheim (Yout un hime) to your heart's content.
And then someone found my blog by searching lilith spurned adam ,marries satan (typed exactly as found) and I chuckled and remembered MY anger over her judgmental bitch behavior won't do a stitch of good. And...I spelled "stitch" incorrectly the first time around. Proofreading: it's not just for English Majors anymore.
And so I'm back on my original post topic...potentially with fewer fragments and more actual sentences. (My apologies, Mr. Benson.)
Crap. The period goes INSIDE the parentheses in this case, right? Sigh. Honestly it doesn't matter one bit: spellchecker is going to explode with this post anyway.
Moving on.
Norse Cosmology (not creation and the gods, just the worlds)...because I plan on doing a post on other excellent stories (like Thor fishing for Jormungand in the sea around Midgard) but in order to do so a prequel must be presented for those who aren't Astaru or Heathen or just mythology freaks like me. (If I'm incorrect on anything here, those of you who ARE Astaru or Heathen or just better vested into Norse myth than I am, please comment).
Also: Norse mythologies use spellings from Old Norse, Modern Norwegian, Icelandic (which is VERY close to Old Norse but not exactly the same), Modern Swedish, Modern Danish, and of course the English translations.
What I'm saying here is that there are MULTIPLE spelling nuances for most of these names. Please try not to rip my head off because I spelled something different from your usual use (particularly if you use it in your spiritual beliefs)...I just picked one relatively consistent spelling and went with it across the board.
The Norse universe is set up in sets of three. Yes, three IS the number and the number shall be three. I am not going into Gods here, just the cosmos for now.
The universe itself is made up of three...hmm...plates, or levels. Envision one of those china caddy things that hold plates horizontal yet separated from each other, so they're stacked but not touching. This is the universe: three "plates" set up with space above and below each. And just as you'd imagine, the top level is the one with the most light while the bottom has the most shadow.
The top level houses Asgard, Vanaheim, and Alfheim. The Aesir gods dwell here in their halls, and Valhalla (which is seriously a full post on it's own merits, which I have planned), the hall of the warrior dead. Also located in Asgard is the site of Ragnarok (the battle at the end of time between all gods, men, and monsters): Vigrid, a battle plain so vast it's a sea of land. I envision something like the Great Plains, or the Steppes of Russia and Mongolia, but ultimately Asgard was, as you'd expect, enormous.
Asgard - land of the Aesir, the warrior gods
Vanaheim - land of the Vanir, the fertility gods (until they united with the Aesir, anyway)
Alfheim - land of the light elves.
Below Asgard, in the second level, is Midgard, the world of man.
Midgard is the level surrounded by a never-ending ocean, and Jormungand, the serpent dwelling at the bottom of the sea who's so long he bites his own tail.
Midgard - land of man.
Nidavellir - Dark Home, land of dwarves, in the Northern caves and potholes (I wonder occasionally if they wear hardhats and reflective vests while they're fixing potholes?)
Svartalfheim - land of dark elves, in the Northern underground.
Jotunheim - land of giants, in the Eastern Mountains along the coast.
The way between Asgard and Midgard is the Bifrost, the rainbow bridge. Those of you who've seen the Thor movies know exactly what I'm talking about: they truly did a fantastic job.
The third level, the darkest, is Niflheim, the world of the dead. The citadel of Niflheim is Hel, a world of it's own. However, in some of the creation myths Niflheim and Hel are combined into one and the ninth world is Muspellheim, land of fire. Interestingly, and in typical Norse circular fashion...the "big bang" in the universe which CREATED the levels and nine worlds occurred when Niflheim, land of ice, collided with Muspellheim, land of fire. Yes, it's confusing. Now, even more confusing is the idea that Niflheim contains the PLACE "Hel" and has since creation. Dwelling in Hel is the monster/creature, Hel, who is the daughter of Loki (who hasn't happened yet, if creation just banged when the two worlds collided to form the underworld). The dead must pass THROUGH Hel the creature to reach Hel the citadel and finally to get to Niflheim.
The center of all three levels, at the center of the UNIVERSE, is the ash tree, Yggdrasill, the World or Guardian Tree. Yggdrasill's branches reach above out over all the worlds and over heaven, and its three roots are planted in Asgard at the Well of Urd (Fate); in Jotunheim at the Spring of Mimir (Knowledge); and in Niflheim at the Spring of Hvergelmir (the source of eleven rivers).
Yggdrasill truly is presented as a sort of all encompassing Tree of Knowledge, Ark, and central pillar of sustenance to the universe. Yggdrasill is where Odin sacrificed his eye to drink from the Spring o Mimir to gain his vast knowledge. Near the Spring of Hvergelmir dwells the great dragon Nidhogg, who gnaws at the root of the world tree. Deer, goats, eagles, squirrels all live on the tree and eat from it. Ratatosk the squirrel carries insults from Nidhogg at the root of the tree up to the eagle who lives in the uppermost branches. The Well of Urd, or Fate, is where the Norns reside, the goddesses of destiny who carefully tend their root to keep the tree healthy with all the creatures damaging it for their survival.
Yggdrasill is so powerful, it survives Ragnarok, the final battle at the end of the world. It truly is the central, stable being of Norse myth.
For those of you who want pronunciations...honestly there's no way I can phonetically spell the neat Norse "ou" sound, which isn't the same as "hound" or "wound." It's a Minnesota (minnesooota) accent thing, I suppose, so I can pronounce it but I can't WRITE it properly.
In general, Y sounds like a short 'i' (dig). J is usually a "y" (yes). LLs have a bit of a roll to them.
The other part of Norse language that's difficult to convey in writing is the rocking rhythm of the words themselves. Poetry, after all, was the primary source of entertainment and storytelling for a reason for a people with a rocking-horse style of speaking Ragnarok would be RAg-na-ROK.
Now, go forth and practice Hvergelmir (VER gel meer, g is hard) and Jotunheim (Yout un hime) to your heart's content.
Monday, July 21, 2014
Mythic Monday: The Hind
No, no, I'm not referring to the butt of anything.
In honor of this weekend's release of the fabulous Dwayne Johnson's rendition of Hercules, today I'm covering The Ceryneian Hind. The Golden Hind: Cerynitis. Herc's 3rd of his twelve labors...which are really another post that I won't put up until AFTER the movie is actually released because spoilers are a jerk move.
So, as the tale is told Artemis (Goddess of the hunt, the moon, and all things wild and free) protected five golden hinds. Four hinds faithfully pulled her chariot. The fifth was nowhere to be found.
At the same time, Heracles returned to King Eurystheus having successfully completed his first two Labors, both of which were designed by the King and the Goddess Hera to kill Heracles. Foiled twice, they conspired a Labor that Heracles would likely fail, and if he managed to succeed would draw the wrath of Artemis. He could not win, no matter the outcome of his hunt.
So Eurystheus sent Heracles to capture the Hind alive. Heracles, bound by his word, set off to track and capture the huge doe reported to have golden antlers like a stag and bronze hooves. This proved to be a tough job: Cerynitis could run faster than any arrow, and she eluded Heracles for a full year before he finally trapped her.
The actual way in which he defeated her is varied: some say he shot an arrow between her front legs, tripping her up while she ran. Some say he wrestled her into submission, breaking an antler in the process. Some say he snuck upon her while she slept, others that he caught her in a net, laming her.
In any case, Heracles caught the Hind...and promptly also caught the attention of Artemis. Instead of punishing him, however, Artemis was moved by Heracles' admiration of the Hind's beauty and prowess (which implies he did not lame her in any way). Artemis knew why Eurystheus and Hera sent Heracles after her creature, and chose to forgive Heracles the moment he promised to free Cerynitis. Thus he thwarted another Goddess's anger and saved his demigod skin.
Heracles returned to King Eurystheus with Cerynitis and discovered the King intended to trap the doe in his menagerie. Heracles wasn't just a musclehead, however, and had a plan. He agreed to turn over the Hind on the condition the King take her from him.
Eurystheus agreed...and the moment Heracles released Cerynitis she was gone, faster than the King or any of his men could possibly follow, running to the safety of her Goddess.
Heracles went on to the next twisted Labor the King and Hera invented, and Cerynitis (contrary to the TV show) did not marry the demigod.
PS: Pronunciation as follows, as far as I'm aware (hey Greek cousins, feel free to weigh in if I'm off here).
Heracles: Hair-a-klees (the Greek name for Hercules)
Eurystheus: Yuris-thee-us
Ceryneian: Ker-in-ee-an
Cerynitis: Ker-in-I-tis (C in Greek names is pronounced K)
In honor of this weekend's release of the fabulous Dwayne Johnson's rendition of Hercules, today I'm covering The Ceryneian Hind. The Golden Hind: Cerynitis. Herc's 3rd of his twelve labors...which are really another post that I won't put up until AFTER the movie is actually released because spoilers are a jerk move.
So, as the tale is told Artemis (Goddess of the hunt, the moon, and all things wild and free) protected five golden hinds. Four hinds faithfully pulled her chariot. The fifth was nowhere to be found.
At the same time, Heracles returned to King Eurystheus having successfully completed his first two Labors, both of which were designed by the King and the Goddess Hera to kill Heracles. Foiled twice, they conspired a Labor that Heracles would likely fail, and if he managed to succeed would draw the wrath of Artemis. He could not win, no matter the outcome of his hunt.
So Eurystheus sent Heracles to capture the Hind alive. Heracles, bound by his word, set off to track and capture the huge doe reported to have golden antlers like a stag and bronze hooves. This proved to be a tough job: Cerynitis could run faster than any arrow, and she eluded Heracles for a full year before he finally trapped her.
The actual way in which he defeated her is varied: some say he shot an arrow between her front legs, tripping her up while she ran. Some say he wrestled her into submission, breaking an antler in the process. Some say he snuck upon her while she slept, others that he caught her in a net, laming her.
In any case, Heracles caught the Hind...and promptly also caught the attention of Artemis. Instead of punishing him, however, Artemis was moved by Heracles' admiration of the Hind's beauty and prowess (which implies he did not lame her in any way). Artemis knew why Eurystheus and Hera sent Heracles after her creature, and chose to forgive Heracles the moment he promised to free Cerynitis. Thus he thwarted another Goddess's anger and saved his demigod skin.
Heracles returned to King Eurystheus with Cerynitis and discovered the King intended to trap the doe in his menagerie. Heracles wasn't just a musclehead, however, and had a plan. He agreed to turn over the Hind on the condition the King take her from him.
Eurystheus agreed...and the moment Heracles released Cerynitis she was gone, faster than the King or any of his men could possibly follow, running to the safety of her Goddess.
Heracles went on to the next twisted Labor the King and Hera invented, and Cerynitis (contrary to the TV show) did not marry the demigod.
PS: Pronunciation as follows, as far as I'm aware (hey Greek cousins, feel free to weigh in if I'm off here).
Heracles: Hair-a-klees (the Greek name for Hercules)
Eurystheus: Yuris-thee-us
Ceryneian: Ker-in-ee-an
Cerynitis: Ker-in-I-tis (C in Greek names is pronounced K)
Monday, July 14, 2014
Mythic Monday: Lorelie and the Siren
I have to say, I chuckle a bit to myself every time I hear this name. Lorelai/Loralie/Lorelay...doesn't it sound beautiful? It rolls of the tongue like a melody.
I suppose that's fitting, considering the Lorelie is a Germanic Siren.
The Siren: supernaturally gorgeous women with voices impossible to ignore, who lure men to their deaths, generally by drowning. If you recall your middle school reading of The Odyssey, you'll remember that during his decade-long journey to return to Ithaca, Odysseus passed the Sirens' island. Odysseus was a famously (notoriously) clever man...we'll get to him in a future post, as he's one of the most fascinating characters in ancient history. Anyway, he'd heard the stories, and there was no way he'd get caught up like all the rest. Sirens enjoyed the havoc and death they wreaked by luring sailors with their honeyed voices and overwhelming beauty...they enjoyed luring the sailors close a rocky shore that sank ships and killed men.
Sirens were a beautiful, irresistible death.
So, the Lorelie.
Germanic myth says Lorelie was a young woman who, upon discovering her lover was faithless and broke her heart, threw herself into the Rhine. Her anger and despair were so great she turned into a siren: a monster (in some renditions a mermaid) who can be heard singing from a specific rock along the Rhine. Her song lures sailors on the river and men on the bank to the water, where they're drowned. In some versions, she mirrors the Waterhorse by dragging her victims to the depths of the swirling river, taking her vengeance out on rather hapless victims. In others, she just happens to be there singing her laments and the rough waters at the specific area of the river take care of the victims for her.
Personally, I find the Siren and Lorelie's powers just as creepy as Dracula's powers to subvert Mina's will with his gaze. The horror of the Lorelie isn't the drowning death: it's the concept that a man's will can be so totally subsumed with her power that he is literally incapable of preventing his own death, regardless of his love or loyalties. Marvel, incidentally, loves the Lorelie. In the Marvel universe, Lorelei is an Aasgardian with (unsurprisingly) the disturbing power to convince men to subvert their will to hers...using her voice. She and Sif (powerful warrior who eventually marries Thor) have an ongoing argument in Marvelspace.
In addition, the Lorelie is a tragic character in myth: unlike the Greek Sirens, Lorelie doesn't seem to take any pleasure in her victims' deaths. Instead, it seems an unpleasant result of her suicide, or at the very least a dark misery that didn't die when she killed herself. There's no real punishment aspect to Lorelie's fate: it's more tragic sadness than puritan anti-suicide warning.
If you want a hauntingly beautiful Lorelie poem (translated from German to English by Mark Twain, because OF COURSE it is), go here. It's wonderful. And terribly sad.
If you want to see some lovely Lorelie art, look here.
In any case, the Lorelie is associated with a particular "echoing" rock near Sankt Goarhousen (St. Goar), Germany. It's a rocky cliff where (presumably) quite a few ships have gone down and sailors lost. As such, of course, Lorelie is a name that's associated with deadly, dangerous allure.
Not exactly a name I'd give my kid, but hey...femme fatale isn't a bad reputation to have. I definitely wouldn't give that name to a German restaurant...but someone did. In Green Bay, Wisconsin, you MN and WI peeps of mine. If you ever check it out, give me a review!
I suppose that's fitting, considering the Lorelie is a Germanic Siren.
The Siren: supernaturally gorgeous women with voices impossible to ignore, who lure men to their deaths, generally by drowning. If you recall your middle school reading of The Odyssey, you'll remember that during his decade-long journey to return to Ithaca, Odysseus passed the Sirens' island. Odysseus was a famously (notoriously) clever man...we'll get to him in a future post, as he's one of the most fascinating characters in ancient history. Anyway, he'd heard the stories, and there was no way he'd get caught up like all the rest. Sirens enjoyed the havoc and death they wreaked by luring sailors with their honeyed voices and overwhelming beauty...they enjoyed luring the sailors close a rocky shore that sank ships and killed men.
Sirens were a beautiful, irresistible death.
So, the Lorelie.
Germanic myth says Lorelie was a young woman who, upon discovering her lover was faithless and broke her heart, threw herself into the Rhine. Her anger and despair were so great she turned into a siren: a monster (in some renditions a mermaid) who can be heard singing from a specific rock along the Rhine. Her song lures sailors on the river and men on the bank to the water, where they're drowned. In some versions, she mirrors the Waterhorse by dragging her victims to the depths of the swirling river, taking her vengeance out on rather hapless victims. In others, she just happens to be there singing her laments and the rough waters at the specific area of the river take care of the victims for her.
Personally, I find the Siren and Lorelie's powers just as creepy as Dracula's powers to subvert Mina's will with his gaze. The horror of the Lorelie isn't the drowning death: it's the concept that a man's will can be so totally subsumed with her power that he is literally incapable of preventing his own death, regardless of his love or loyalties. Marvel, incidentally, loves the Lorelie. In the Marvel universe, Lorelei is an Aasgardian with (unsurprisingly) the disturbing power to convince men to subvert their will to hers...using her voice. She and Sif (powerful warrior who eventually marries Thor) have an ongoing argument in Marvelspace.
In addition, the Lorelie is a tragic character in myth: unlike the Greek Sirens, Lorelie doesn't seem to take any pleasure in her victims' deaths. Instead, it seems an unpleasant result of her suicide, or at the very least a dark misery that didn't die when she killed herself. There's no real punishment aspect to Lorelie's fate: it's more tragic sadness than puritan anti-suicide warning.
If you want a hauntingly beautiful Lorelie poem (translated from German to English by Mark Twain, because OF COURSE it is), go here. It's wonderful. And terribly sad.
If you want to see some lovely Lorelie art, look here.
In any case, the Lorelie is associated with a particular "echoing" rock near Sankt Goarhousen (St. Goar), Germany. It's a rocky cliff where (presumably) quite a few ships have gone down and sailors lost. As such, of course, Lorelie is a name that's associated with deadly, dangerous allure.
Not exactly a name I'd give my kid, but hey...femme fatale isn't a bad reputation to have. I definitely wouldn't give that name to a German restaurant...but someone did. In Green Bay, Wisconsin, you MN and WI peeps of mine. If you ever check it out, give me a review!
Monday, July 07, 2014
Mythic Monday: Lilith
Tonight's post is dedicated to one of my favorite women in mythology: the rebellious badass, Lilith.
For those of you old enough remember Cheers, not that Lilith. This is my first post on any of the myths surrounding Abrahamic religions, and I'm acutely aware of the potential here for me to piss someone off. Let me preface this post by saying I approach all religions as myth and all myths as religions. It's not my intent to convert or insult: it's my intention to explore the cultural ramifications and possible sources.
So. Lilith.
In the beginning, God created both Adam and Lilith from the earth.
In a more...hmm...adult version of the myth, Adam is lonely after watching animals mate like, well, animals. He tries a female from each species for himself, but none are what he's really looking for. So eventually, he marries Lilith so he has a female of his own species.
In another, Adam asks God for a mate like him because he doesn't match well with the female animals, so God creates Lilith out of the earth (after Adam has been around for a while), but God grabs a handful of muck instead of pure earth, and so Lilith is tainted from the start. There's a whole theological discussion door there that I'm going to leave closed for purposes of this post, but I find the possible interpretations here utterly intriguing.
(It's probably important to note here that the occasional relief found with a member of the shepherd's herd was an accepted part of life in many tribes at the time...after all, herding is a lonely lifestyle. So it's not considered an evil or sin in the myth for Adam to be experimenting. One of the differentiations between other herdsman tribes in the ancient world and the Israelites is the prohibition against messing with animals.)
Anyway, Lilith, being created at the same time as Adam and from the same materials, insisted she was Adam's equal in all things. She refused to submit to Adam sexually (the generally accepted idea here is she refused missionary position) because why should she be on her back in the dirt, subservient, when she's Adam's equal? In some variations she wanted to be on top, but the implications here are that she didn't want to submit: she wanted equal partnership. They fought about it.
Lilith left Adam to hang out by the Red Sea, refuting his demands. Adam pined for her and three of God's angels to talk her into returning. She refused, and chose to spend her life cavorting with other males (angels and demons both, depending on who you ask), birthing around a hundred babies a day. Busy lady.
Adam, in the meantime, was lonely and angry that his wife left. He begged God for a more pliant partner, and God created Eve. As she was created from a part of Adam, she was bound to him from her beginning. Think about the implications of THAT for just a moment. Her story is another post as well, but suffice it to say she was appropriately submissive for Adam's tastes, at least in the beginning.
Lilith, the bad girl who wouldn't listen to directions, was condemned by mythology as a demon. Interestingly, though most of the common mythology points come from Hebrew sources, Lilith is in all the Middle Eastern mythologies in some form or another. In Akkadian, she's associated with the lilitu (night she-demon). In Sumerian, 'lil' mean air: possibly Lilitu was a mix of Sumerian and Akkadian meaning night air demon.
This would fit with the idea that Lilith strangled babies in the night, which is one of her more horrendous crimes. Lilith's children were taken away by God in punishment for spurning Adam, and she declared war on all women in childbirth, stealing and eating their babies (especially boys). The three angels sent to fetch her forced her to promise to leave anyone wearing any of their names on an amulet alone.
In some versions, Lilith mates with Satan after spurning Adam, creating the Djinn. In fact, in the Middle Ages she was often called the wife, mistress, or even grandmother of Satan (which seems like a lot of work for one woman)...she became a catchall for anything considered female evil. Her daughters, the lilim, were said to cause evil 'nocturnal emissions' in men, and people wore amulets against their evil well into the Middle Ages: Lilith was queen of the succubi.
In Greece, she becomes associated with Lamia, the Libyan woman cursed by the gods to eat children. Lamia becomes, as time goes on, a blood drinker...particularly of young men. This, I suspect, is the beginning of Lilith being associated with vampires. Lilith pops up regularly in modern myths intertwined with vampires, sometimes as the original, sometimes just as a
Lilith is fascinating because she's not a demon until she resists assimilation. She's independent, sexual, strong, violent, and (I think) fun. Culturally, I think Lilith has a significantly sad tale. Her fertility and her independence are both hallmarks of an Earth Mother goddess: she's literally populating the area on the edge of the Red Sea herself, and she belongs to no one. She has both a nurturing and violent. She's untamable...and therefore, she's dangerous.
Ancient tribal societies in what is now Turkey, Iraq, Iran, Syria, Libya, etc. had a patriarchal structure, with the man central to his family and ruling over them in everything. My theory about this need for total control is based on economics and survival: nomadic peoples in harsh environments lived harsh lives. Every mouth to feed was important because children were the future of the tribe, and every mouth to feed was a drain on resources. The only way a man could ensure the children he's giving precious food and water were in fact HIS was to control the mother's sexuality. This is not a commentary on modern Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or any other religion. There are many societies outside the Abrahamic religions that put importance on controlling the source of progeny (including Greek and Roman). Honestly, we're looking at a chicken vs egg situation when talking about both secular and religious rules for that time period. They were so wholly intertwined, it's hard to separate, especially in the myths as old (or older) as the Old Testament. These are rules that existed in many of the nomadic tribes pushing into the established agricultural lands.
So...if you have an agricultural, relatively peaceful society that worships the Mother Goddess, and tough nomadic tribes move in on the territory to take over, who becomes the demon when history is passed down by the conqueror?
The one who refuses to submit.
For those of you old enough remember Cheers, not that Lilith. This is my first post on any of the myths surrounding Abrahamic religions, and I'm acutely aware of the potential here for me to piss someone off. Let me preface this post by saying I approach all religions as myth and all myths as religions. It's not my intent to convert or insult: it's my intention to explore the cultural ramifications and possible sources.
So. Lilith.
In the beginning, God created both Adam and Lilith from the earth.
In a more...hmm...adult version of the myth, Adam is lonely after watching animals mate like, well, animals. He tries a female from each species for himself, but none are what he's really looking for. So eventually, he marries Lilith so he has a female of his own species.
In another, Adam asks God for a mate like him because he doesn't match well with the female animals, so God creates Lilith out of the earth (after Adam has been around for a while), but God grabs a handful of muck instead of pure earth, and so Lilith is tainted from the start. There's a whole theological discussion door there that I'm going to leave closed for purposes of this post, but I find the possible interpretations here utterly intriguing.
(It's probably important to note here that the occasional relief found with a member of the shepherd's herd was an accepted part of life in many tribes at the time...after all, herding is a lonely lifestyle. So it's not considered an evil or sin in the myth for Adam to be experimenting. One of the differentiations between other herdsman tribes in the ancient world and the Israelites is the prohibition against messing with animals.)
Anyway, Lilith, being created at the same time as Adam and from the same materials, insisted she was Adam's equal in all things. She refused to submit to Adam sexually (the generally accepted idea here is she refused missionary position) because why should she be on her back in the dirt, subservient, when she's Adam's equal? In some variations she wanted to be on top, but the implications here are that she didn't want to submit: she wanted equal partnership. They fought about it.
Lilith left Adam to hang out by the Red Sea, refuting his demands. Adam pined for her and three of God's angels to talk her into returning. She refused, and chose to spend her life cavorting with other males (angels and demons both, depending on who you ask), birthing around a hundred babies a day. Busy lady.
Adam, in the meantime, was lonely and angry that his wife left. He begged God for a more pliant partner, and God created Eve. As she was created from a part of Adam, she was bound to him from her beginning. Think about the implications of THAT for just a moment. Her story is another post as well, but suffice it to say she was appropriately submissive for Adam's tastes, at least in the beginning.
Lilith, the bad girl who wouldn't listen to directions, was condemned by mythology as a demon. Interestingly, though most of the common mythology points come from Hebrew sources, Lilith is in all the Middle Eastern mythologies in some form or another. In Akkadian, she's associated with the lilitu (night she-demon). In Sumerian, 'lil' mean air: possibly Lilitu was a mix of Sumerian and Akkadian meaning night air demon.
This would fit with the idea that Lilith strangled babies in the night, which is one of her more horrendous crimes. Lilith's children were taken away by God in punishment for spurning Adam, and she declared war on all women in childbirth, stealing and eating their babies (especially boys). The three angels sent to fetch her forced her to promise to leave anyone wearing any of their names on an amulet alone.
In some versions, Lilith mates with Satan after spurning Adam, creating the Djinn. In fact, in the Middle Ages she was often called the wife, mistress, or even grandmother of Satan (which seems like a lot of work for one woman)...she became a catchall for anything considered female evil. Her daughters, the lilim, were said to cause evil 'nocturnal emissions' in men, and people wore amulets against their evil well into the Middle Ages: Lilith was queen of the succubi.
In Greece, she becomes associated with Lamia, the Libyan woman cursed by the gods to eat children. Lamia becomes, as time goes on, a blood drinker...particularly of young men. This, I suspect, is the beginning of Lilith being associated with vampires. Lilith pops up regularly in modern myths intertwined with vampires, sometimes as the original, sometimes just as a
Lilith is fascinating because she's not a demon until she resists assimilation. She's independent, sexual, strong, violent, and (I think) fun. Culturally, I think Lilith has a significantly sad tale. Her fertility and her independence are both hallmarks of an Earth Mother goddess: she's literally populating the area on the edge of the Red Sea herself, and she belongs to no one. She has both a nurturing and violent. She's untamable...and therefore, she's dangerous.
Ancient tribal societies in what is now Turkey, Iraq, Iran, Syria, Libya, etc. had a patriarchal structure, with the man central to his family and ruling over them in everything. My theory about this need for total control is based on economics and survival: nomadic peoples in harsh environments lived harsh lives. Every mouth to feed was important because children were the future of the tribe, and every mouth to feed was a drain on resources. The only way a man could ensure the children he's giving precious food and water were in fact HIS was to control the mother's sexuality. This is not a commentary on modern Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or any other religion. There are many societies outside the Abrahamic religions that put importance on controlling the source of progeny (including Greek and Roman). Honestly, we're looking at a chicken vs egg situation when talking about both secular and religious rules for that time period. They were so wholly intertwined, it's hard to separate, especially in the myths as old (or older) as the Old Testament. These are rules that existed in many of the nomadic tribes pushing into the established agricultural lands.
So...if you have an agricultural, relatively peaceful society that worships the Mother Goddess, and tough nomadic tribes move in on the territory to take over, who becomes the demon when history is passed down by the conqueror?
The one who refuses to submit.
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