Notes to Universal Root Myths
I. Sumerian-Akkadian Myths
1 In this retelling of the myth of Gilgamesh we have kept in mind the twelve Assyrian tablets, which are a compilation of earlier Akkadian ones, derived in turn from the Sumerian, as recent discoveries demonstrate. We have based our approach on a number of works, including R. Campbell Thompson’s translations of the original material, The Epic of Gilgamesh (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1930), and those of G. Contenau in L’ Epopée de Gilgamesh (Paris: L’Artisan du livre, 1939). We have also consulted the works of Speiser, Bauer, Kramer, Heidel, Langdom, Schott, Ungnad, and, finally, G. Blanco’s Cantar de Gilgamesh (Buenos Aires: Ed. Galerna, 1978).
2 The poem of Gilgamesh was apparently written toward the end of the third millennium b.c.e., but based on much older material. We are led to agree with this hypothesis on the basis of the history of developments in ceramic technology. In fact, around the time that this tale was written down, history’s first potter’s wheel had already been invented in Uruk (circa 3500 b.c.e.). The oldest example is an instrument consisting of a ceramic wheel 90 centimeters in diameter and 12 centimeters thick, which was rotated with the left hand while the material was worked with the right. The weight of the flywheel was sufficient for it to continue spinning for a number of minutes, freeing both of the potter’s hands to perfect the work. Mesopotamia would later see the invention of the foot-powered wheel.
In the poem, however, the goddess Aruru creates the man of clay using nothing more than her moistened hands. This is a detail of some importance, since one can deduce from this technical description that the myth pertains to a time before the introduction of the potter’s wheel. On comparing the Sumerian myth of creation of the human being with its Egyptian equivalent, for example, we see that in the latter case the god Khnum shapes the body out of clay using a potter’s wheel (which had recently made its appearance in the Nile region during the Dynastic Era). The Sumerian poem alludes to the creation of the hero Enkidu as a “double,” a copy of Gilgamesh, after the goddess Aruru “concentrates within herself.” It is possible that this refers to a technique used in the production of ceramic human figures involving the making of copies through the use of molds (i.e., “within herself”) based on a previously manufactured original. The fact that Enkidu is born covered with hair (“the hero was born with his body covered with hair as thick as the barley of the fields”) could refer to the visible presence of materials added to reduce plasticity (cereal cuttings, straw, and so on), which were added to the clay to prevent it from cracking, as is still done in some areas where clay is used to prepare adobe. All of this technology corresponds to a stage previous to that of industrial ceramics and the use of the potter’s wheel. Thus, the story predates the epoch of al’Ubaid and originates long before the appearance of the myth of Marduk, in which Marduk wishes to create man out of his blood and bones, although he later decides to do so with the blood of his enemy, Kingu. In this case, we are already in the presence of engobe, or glazed ceramics, of which there are numerous Babylonian examples from that period. Moreover, the British Museum contains a tablet on which a formula for enamel appears, based on lead and copper, from the Babylonian master Liballit, possibly contemporaneous with the writing of the myth of Marduk.
It could be objected that in the Hebrew Genesis, as in the Quiché Popol Vuh, there is no reference to the potter’s wheel, even though it is a technology that already existed by the time of their respective compositions. As for Genesis, God creates Adam from clay, and later creates Eve from his rib (as in the case of Marduk, from blood and bone), and gives Adam life by blowing into him with his breath. There is no reference to the wheel, but the “blowing” is suggestive because the use of a mechanism for introducing air into a furnace predates the potter’s wheel. It is a procedure that was then perfected with the bellows, allowing temperatures above 800 degrees C. to be reached, something not otherwise possible given the caloric content of the resins in the firewood of that region. It should also be noted that the invention of the convection furnace at times allowed temperatures of as much as 1,000 degrees C. to be reached, although air injection is an advance based on earlier techniques.
Among the Quiché it was said that the gods made the first man from mud. But over time the first man fell apart (it being a pre-ceramic time of dried clay); then the gods made man from wood, but this did not work either, and this version of humanity was in turn destroyed. And finally the gods made the human being from corn. This indicates that the origin of the myth can be fixed in the stage of Neolithic tools (stone, bone, and wood)—that is, prior to the ceramic revolution. On the other hand, neither the wheel nor the potter’s lathe was known in the Americas, and hence there are no references to those technologies. It is true that the three classical translations of the Popul Vuh (Arciniegas, Recinos, and Chavez) contain descriptions of potter’s tools and ceramic technology coexistent with the myth of the creation of the human being, but this only indicates that these technologies existed before the text itself was finalized.
In synthesis, the Sumerian myth presents us with the oldest example of the creation of the human being by a potter-god. Nonetheless, uncertainties about the dating of certain ceramics based on their firing temperatures could cast some doubt on these conclusions. Fortunately, many problems of this type have been resolved, beginning with Wedgwood’s work on Etruscan vases. The pyrometer designed by this researcher (notwithstanding imperfections in its scale) allowed the amount of heat absorbed by a specific clay to be determined. Knowing the composition of a clay and then submitting a replica to controlled firing allowed the degree of contraction to be determined, according to the parameters established in the scale. The criteria indicated that the greater the heat, the greater the contraction, which then remains fixed once the piece has cooled. Another method consisted of submitting a piece of test material to increasing temperatures, up to the point that contraction occurs, and noting at what temperature this happens. Today, technology allows pyrometric analysis of far greater precision, so that it is possible to determine the temperature at which pottery was fired to within one-tenth of a degree.
3 “The fragments ‘The Death of Gilgamesh’ and ‘The Descent to Hell’ come from Sumerian tablets found in Nippur, which have been dated to the first half of the second millennium b.c.e. Although they are not connected to the structure of the poem, the second one is found in literal translation in the Assyrian Tablet XII, the most complete and recent version that we have of the poem.” Cantar de Gilgamesh (Buenos Aires: Ed. Galerna, 1978, p. 95). In A. Schott’s translation, the text that appears regarding Enkidu’s speech to Gilgamesh is as follows: “Look, my body, which you held with tenderness—vermin now gnaw away like old clothes. Yes, my body, which you touched with joy, is invaded by decay, becoming filled with the dust of the Earth!… Have you seen one who died, burned in combat? I certainly have—he was in the silent night, reclining on his bed and drinking pure water. Have you seen someone fall in battle? I certainly have—his dear parents cradle his head and his wife leans over him. Have you seen someone whose remains were discarded on the steppe? O poor me! I have seen him also—he finds no peace. Have you seen someone whose soul is cared for by no one? I have seen it—from nothing more than leftovers in the pot and crumbs by the road must he eat.” El país de los sumerios, H. Schmökel (Buenos Aires: Ed. Eudeba, 1984, p. 210).
4 The vision of a jeweled Paradise is usually linked to wisdom, and at times to eternal life. In the latter case, guardians—frequently serpents, as in a Cretan myth cited by Apollodorus—often defend the city. In that tale, the serpents possess the herb of immortality, whereas in the Gilgamesh myth the serpent steals the plant of life that the hero already possesses.
These themes have been the subject of interpretations ranging from the extremely spiritual to the crudest positivism. Here is one example: “…the celestial paradise is enjoyed in a schizophrenic trance, induced either by asceticism, by glandular disturbance, or by use of hallucinogenic drugs. It is not always possible to judge which of these causes produced the mystic visions of, say, Ezekiel, ‘Enoch,’ Jacob Boehme, Thomas Traherne, or William Blake. Yet, jeweled gardens of delight are commonly connected in myth to the eating of an ambrosia forbidden to mortals; and this points to a hallucinogenic drug reserved for a small circle of adepts, which gives them sensations of divine glory and wisdom. The Gilgamesh reference to buckthorn [espino cerva] must be a blind, however—buckthorn was eaten by ancient mystics not as an illuminant but as a preliminary purgative.… All gardens of delight are originally ruled by goddesses; upon the change from matriarchy to patriarchy, male gods usurp them.… The jeweled Sumerian paradise to which Gilgamesh went was owned by Siduri, Goddess of Wisdom, who had made the Sun-god Shamash its guardian; in later versions of the epic, Shamash has degraded Siduri to a mere ‘ale-wife’ serving at a near-by tavern.” Hebrew Myths, The Book of Genesis, R. Graves and R. Patai (New York: Doubleday, 1964, p. 80).
As for the relationship among immortality, serpents, and the act of theft, Wilkins in his Hindu Mythology observes how Garuda brought a bit of amrita (ambrosia) from the Moon for the Nagas, or serpent deities, as the price to free his mother from slavery. Indra tried to persuade Garuda to give him the amrita so that the Nagas would not become immortal. But Garuda did not change his mind, and instead handed a vessel containing the substance to the abductors. However, Indra stole it while the Nagas were bathing. The Nagas, believing that the ambrosia must have spilled onto the Kusa herb (Poa Cynosuroides), licked the plant. The herb’s sharp thorns ripped their tongues, and so it is that the serpent has a forked tongue. Hindu Mythology–Vedic and Puranic, W. J. Wilkins (London: Curzon, 1973).
5 From the fragment called “The Death of Gilgamesh.”
II. Assyro-Babylonian Myths
1 The poem, written in Babylon based on Sumerian material, was later found in the royal library of Assurbanipal (seventh century b.c.e.).
2 The eleven monsters and their chief, Kingu, are the twelve constellations of the zodiac that Marduk will place in the sky like statues (fixed images).
3 A reference to the Enuma Elish–Tablet I (When On High), v. 147 to 157. See, e.g., Poema Babilónico de la Creación, E. L. Peinado and M. G. Cordero (Madrid: Ed. Nacional, 1981, p. 98). The translators of this work have also consulted works including Enuma Elish–Tablet I in The Babylonian Genesis, A. Heidel (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1951, p. 24).
4 Tablet 3, v. 134–38. Tablet 4, v. 1–32.
5 The plant associated with Tiamat and Kingu could be a member of an aquatic species with poisonous qualities that, in small doses, could also have curative powers (i.e., the “blood” of Kingu as a giver of life). Such apparently contradictory ideas are not unheard of. In Pausanias 8, 17, 6 ss, we read that the water of the Styx had pernicious properties, destroying iron, metal, and ceramics. At the same time, these waters also possessed the quality of an “elixir of life,” as can be seen in the case of Achilles, who is made invulnerable by his immersion in them. As we read in Hesiod: “Such is the oath the gods made of the primeval and immortal water of the Styx, which never fails, but leaps forth from the rocks.” Theogony, v. 805.
6 The Zodiac.
7 The Sun.
8 The star Sirius.
9 The planet Jupiter.
10 Tablet 5, v. 14–22.
11 Bab-El, meaning “Door of God.”
12 Tablet 6, v. 5–10. The Iggi and the Anunnaki, entities of the heavens and the infernal depths, respectively.
13 Tablet 6, v. 11–16.
14 Tablet 6, v. 29–37. The blood released through the sacrifice of Kingu cleanses the gods of their guilt, and allows the transmission of life to humanity. Perhaps the phrase “in an incomprehensible act” reveals the perplexed state of the Babylonian poet (or the lack of evidence) in the face of an unsatisfactory explanation—an explanation that at one time may have made sense in a more complete Sumerian context (from which the myth derives). In the Chaldean tradition, Marduk and Aruru were the ancestors of man. In the poem of Gilgamesh, by moistening her hands and molding clay, the goddess creates humankind—just as she later creates Enkidu, the king’s double. Another version (transmitted by the priest Berossus) has humanity modeled from clay, with which the blood of a god was mixed.
15 This refers to the truncated, stepped pyramid (ziggurat), at whose apex always stood a small temple that was also an astronomical observatory. The Esagila complex included other towers, residences, and fortified walls in which ramps were frequently used in place of steps. In the underground spaces of the pyramid, funeral or ritual chambers were found in which Marduk “rested” or “died” for the New Year festivities (Akitu). Afterward, he would be rescued from the “mountain of death,” and through complex ceremonies, the destinies of the New Year would be set.
Of course, the myth of death and resurrection had already taken shape much earlier in Sumer. On this matter, Schmökel comments: “Today we know that the problem of life, death, and resurrection, expressed in the mystery of Inanna and Dumuzi, was a core problem in the ancient Sumerian religion.… We must ask if the somber description of the beyond in the epic of Gilgamesh should not be considered a reaction against hopes that were too effusive in that regard. All those who committed themselves wholly to faith in the giver of life—Inanna and her lover Dumuzi, who annually in the autumn would descend to the netherworld accompanied by the lamentations of mankind, and then be joyously received upon his return the following spring—could perhaps participate in that return, and themselves become a link in the eternal chain of death and rebirth.… And we have already seen that, at least in the first dynasty of Ur, the belief in the king as Dumuzi gave rise to the strangest events: whole groups of men would take hemlock in the tomb of the dead sovereign or deceased priestess in order to accompany their god and arise again with him. We will leave aside the question of the degree of spontaneity in such cases—the fact that those men and women put an end to their lives without any visible coercion appears certain.” El País de los Sumerios, H. Schmökel (Ed. Eudeba, Buenos Aires, 1984, p. 210).
16 Tablet 6, v. 95–98. A possible reference to the Flood.
17 Tablet 6, v. 120–23. “Black heads” is a designation given to human beings. In any case, reducing the many names of Marduk reveals the monotheistic aspect of Babylonian religion following the expansion of this local divinity throughout Lower and Upper Mesopotamia, Asia Minor, and the eastern Mediterranean. The Assyrians would proceed in the same way with Assur.
18 Tablet 7, v. 161–62. This refers to the final words of Enuma Elish.
III. Egyptian Myths
1 The form that we have given to this creation story corresponds to the mythology of Memphis and the basalt inscription that Pharaoh Shabaka had engraved in approximately 700 b.c.e. This inscription had in turn been transcribed from a papyrus of a considerably older date. Atum was the principal god during the time of the Old Kingdom, although occasionally he was linked to Ra, the solar disc. In the New Kingdom, Ra came to occupy the central position at the expense of Atum and the other gods. The sources on which we are drawing show Ptah as the creator of all that exists, but in Egyptian mythology there are always difficulties in following the process of transformation of a divine entity. Very often, a god that is totally unknown in one era will begin to take the first tentative steps onto the historical stage in subsequent eras. Later, this figure may even develop to the point where it threatens to absorb all religious or mythic life for an extended period. Egypt, with its long cultural history, is rich with examples of this kind. According to the Aegyptiaca (referred to by Flavius Josephus), the first dynasty began around 3000 b.c.e. (during the time that the capital was in Tinis). Up until the time of Persian, Greek, and Roman domination, Egypt remained active, and hence openly in transformation. Even during the Ptolemaic era, Egyptian mythology continued developing new forms that influenced the Hellenistic world, just as it had influenced the beginnings of Greek culture in earlier times. We are speaking, therefore, of some 3,000 years of continuous development, and it is clear that a great deal of confusion could be occasioned by the appearance and transformation of myths over such an extended period of time. So it is that over the course of a millennium or more, a given divinity can take on different—and at times even opposing—characteristics.
2 Both the not-yet-born and the already-dead coexist in the present of Ptah.
3 One legend specifically mentions Byblos. Phoenicia was a region of Asia Minor on the west coast of Syria that extended from Lebanon to the Mediterranean, and as far south as Mount Carmel. Its principal cities were Byblos, Beirut, Sidon, Tyre, and Acca. During the period of Roman domination, the territory of Celesyria (or Phoenicia of Lebanon) was included, and the ancient nation was designated as Maritime Phoenicia. We have used Phoenicia in the story to highlight the root “Phoenix”—the fabled bird that died in fire and was reborn from its own ashes. In any case, we should not overlook that in fact “Phoenicia” comes from the Greek “Phoenikia,” that is, “country of palm trees,” and that the inhabitants of that place called themselves “Canaanites” and not “Phoenicians.”
4 This is an allusion to the preparation of a mummy, as related by Herodotus (Histories, Book 2, 86ff.).
5 Some have sought to derive the word “pyramid” from the Greek term meaning “wheat cake,” arguing that the Egyptians and Greeks prepared certain pastries in that shape. It has also been maintained that these pastries perhaps derived in turn from others that were used in ceremonial theophagic practices. However, still others hold that they were merely artfully adorned foodstuffs.
Pyramid, from the Greek pyramis, has the same root as pira—pyra—and as fire—pyr. “Pira” has been used for the pyres upon which the bodies of the dead or ritual sacrifices are burned. We do not have the exact word in the ancient Egyptian language that refers to a pyramid in a geometric sense. In any case, the Greek name for that body and the initial mathematical studies regarding it could well have derived from Egyptian teaching, as Plato maintains in the Timaeus where he deals with the earliest scientific knowledge his people had as being Egyptian in origin. These considerations have allowed a play on words in which the term “pyramid” is in the end identified with the potter’s kiln.
For his part, Herodotus (Histories, 2, C and C1) tells a story regarding the motivation for the building of the pyramids, connecting it to the theme of Osiris. Given a reasonable degree of license, we feel that the composition of the paragraph on which we are commenting is acceptable, especially bearing in mind the antiquity of the myth proper to primitive ceramic culture (in which the rebirth of man is brought about by the potter-god). As for the Mesopotamian pyramids (ziggurats), they lead us to consider the idea that these constructions were not only temples and astronomical observatories but also the “sacred mountains” in which Marduk was buried and from where he later resurrected. As for the step and covered or semi-covered pyramids of Mexico and Central America (e.g., Xochicalco, Chichen Itza, Cholula, Teotihuacan), we have no data that would lead us to state that they functioned as sepulchers or filled any function beyond being cultic constructions and serving as astronomical observatories. As for the historical development of the Egyptian pyramids, they evolved from the mastabas, which by the Third Dynasty were already linked to the cult of the Sun in Heliopolis.
6 According to what may be observed, for example, in the Papyrus of Ani (Brit. Mus. N. 10,470, sheets 3 and 4).
7 The tall white crown of the Upper Nile and the flat red crown of the Lower Nile represented both the origins of the pharaoh and his power over those regions. At times both crowns were combined to form the double crown. In the period of the New Empire, the blue crown of war came into use. Often, the ureaeus, the sacred cobra, or ostrich feathers were used in conjunction with the tall crown, each of these representing power over both lands. In the case of Osiris, the crown takes on a priestly character, as in a tiara. The same occurs with the papal headdress (in which, instead, the three-tiered crown can be observed). In this case, the pontifical tiara can be seen to derive from the miter of the bishops, though its style is somewhat more Egyptian.
8 The whip and the crook or staff frequently appear crossed over the chest of the pharaohs. In the representations of Osiris they serve a priestly function, in the same way as the crooked staff of the Christian bishops.
9 Ka was not the spirit but rather the vehicle that visited the mummified corpse. It had some physical properties, and as it appears in the various epochs of the Book of the Dead was represented as a “double.” When the Ka of the pharaoh was represented, it was usually by two identical painted or sculpted figures holding hands.
10 The equal-armed cross was the Chaldeo-Babylonian symbol of Anu. The Ankh cross or crux ansata was a Tau with a circle and a handle, a symbol of triumph over death and the attribute of Sekhet. This cross was later adopted by the Coptic Christians.
11 Ba was the spirit, not subject to material vicissitudes. It was normally represented as a bird with a human face.
12 Amenti was hell, the kingdom of the dead.
13 Khnum, often represented with a human body and a ram’s head, was the main divinity of the Elephantine Triad of Upper Egypt. This divinity made the bodies of humans from clay, forming them on his potter’s wheel. In its spinning, this wheel acts like the wheel of fortune, determining the destiny of each person from the moment of their birth. Beltz (citing E. Naville, The Temple of Deir el-Bahri, 2, tables 47–52) has Khnum speaking these words as he creates an important queen: “I wish to give you the body of a goddess, perfect like all the gods. You will receive from me not only happiness and health but the crown of both countries. You are at the summit of all living beings; you who are queen of Upper and Lower Egypt.” Los Mitos Egipcios, W. Beltz (Buenos Aires: Losada, 1986, pp. 97–98).
14 Thoth, god of Hermopolis and creator of culture, also had the role of the one who guides souls to Amenti. He was usually represented as having a human body and the head of an ibis. His equivalence to the Greek Hermes gave rise to the figure of Hermes-Thoth. Later, around the third century c.e., the neoplatonists and other gnostic sects produced the Corpus Hermeticum (Pymander, The Key, Asclepius, The Emerald Tablet, and so on), which they attributed to the legendary Hermes Trismegistus (the “thrice-great”), the creator of science, the arts, and law.
15 The sycamore was a type of fig tree with extremely durable wood that was used to make sarcophagi. An allusion is also made here to the Djed tree, which represented the resurrection of Osiris—new shoots springing from its dead trunk.
16 “Lady of the West” is the name the goddess-mother Hathor would take in funerary invocations. She lived in the western region of Libya where the kingdom of the dead was located.
17 Anubis, with the body of a man and the head of a jackal, was the accuser in the judgment of the dead. At times he was known as the “Embalmer” or “Guardian of the Tombs.” Anubis was said to have helped in the embalming of Osiris. He also appeared as “the One Who Is on His Mountain,” that is, in charge of the funerary pyramid.
18 The amulets (ushabtis, or “those who answer”) were clay figurines placed in the tombs to accompany the dead to the land of Amenti, where they would acquire human size and characteristics, carrying out the more onerous labors on behalf of the deceased.
19 Horus, with his parents Osiris and Isis, formed part of the trinity of Abydos. In his aspect as the rising sun he was represented with the head of a falcon and a solar disc on his forehead.
20 A local god of Coptos and certain desert regions. Represented with an erect phallus like Priapus, he was a divinity of regeneration in the court of Seth. Called “Bull of his Mother,” he was both the son and the husband of a divinity that presided over the East. At some point there may have been intermixture between Seth and Min, since some legends present Seth as a black bull, assassinating Osiris. On the other hand, the very ancient Min may in fact be closely related to the legendary Minos of Crete, also represented as a bull.
21 Apophis was a monstrous serpent that lay in wait for the ship of the Sun. Over time, he became identified with Seth in his demonic aspect. In the Book of the Dead, invocations are made to ensure that this serpent does not destroy the ship, which carries the deceased.
22 The loss of a god’s head indicates not death but rather a replacement of attributes. Thus, many divinities can easily be identified thanks to the fact that the head they bear is the totem of their people or the place from which they came.
23 We have thought it important to make note of the history of Akhenaton under a subtitle that refers to its quality as an “antimyth.” In reality, we are dealing with another root myth: that of the one god, who, as a system of thought, clashes strongly with those overpopulated pantheons. Although there were already monotheistic proposals in Mesopotamia, it is in Egypt and with Akhenaton (1364–1347 b.c.e.) that this particular religious form gains strength. Akhenaton’s reform lasts only as long as his reign, however. According to Beltz, the priestly castes that granted an honorific primacy to the clergy of Amon of Thebes often saw themselves as both the treasure and the safeguard of national traditions. Their successful resistance to Akhenaton’s reforms had not only a religious but a national character as well. After they had annulled the reforms of this heretical sovereign, their influence and power became stronger than ever. According to Tokarev, “The temples became the greatest economic power of the country. The kings of the Twentieth Dynasty were puppets in the hands of the Theban high priests, whose functions were formerly hereditary.” As opposed to Christianity and Islam—religions that advanced in alliance with the new political forces—Egyptian religion regressed toward autochthonous forms. If Akhenaton’s political and religious reforms had progressed, it is quite probable that a universal religion would have arisen much earlier than those known today. In any case, although the traces of heresy were officially erased, its influence transcended the borders of Egypt.
24 Heliopolis.
25 The translations of the Hymn to Aton are numerous. For this work we have drawn on fragments of diverse translations, modifying them and giving them a unified style.
IV. Hebrew Myths
1 Genesis 2:9 and 2:16–17.
2 Based on Book 5 of John Milton’s Paradise Lost.
3 Genesis 3:4–5.
4 In this story, following the tone of the myth of Gilgamesh—”he who knew all” but who returned to die in Uruk—the serpent is interested in having man acquire knowledge, but impedes him from achieving immortality.
5 Genesis 3:22–24.
6 Annunciation of the Laws of Moses.
7 Genesis 22:1–14.
8 “God also said to Abraham: ‘As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. I will bless her, and she shall be the mother of nations; kings of many peoples shall spring from her.’ Then Abraham threw himself down on his face and laughed, and said to himself, ‘Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Can Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?’” Genesis, 17:15–18.
9 “Then the stranger said: ‘I will surely return to you in due season, and Sarah your wife will have a son.’ And Sarah was listening at the tent entrance behind him. Now Abraham and Sarah had grown very old; Sarah was long past the age of child-bearing. So Sarah laughed to herself, saying, ‘Shall I have a child now that I have grown old, and am past child-bearing, and my husband is old?’ The Lord said to Abraham, ‘Why did Sarah laugh, and say, “Shall I indeed bear a child, now that I am old?” Is anything too wonderful for the Lord? In due season I will return to you, about this time next year, and Sarah shall have a son.’ But Sarah denied this, saying, ‘I did not laugh,’ for she was afraid; but he said, ‘Oh yes, you did laugh.’” Genesis, 18:10–16.
10 The theme of Abraham was treated dramatically by Kierkegaard in Fear and Trembling. In one of the possible scenarios on the theme of the sacrifice, he writes: “It was early morning. Abraham rose in good time, embraced Sarah, the bride of his old age, and Sarah kissed Isaac, who had taken her disgrace from her, and was her pride and hope for all generations. So they rode on in silence, and Abraham’s eyes were fixed on the ground, until the fourth day when he looked up and saw afar the mountain in Moriah, but he turned his gaze once again to the ground. Silently, he arranged the firewood and bound Isaac; silently he drew the knife. Then he saw the ram that God had appointed. He sacrificed that and returned home.… From that day on, Abraham became old, he could not forget that God had demanded this of him. Isaac throve as before; but Abraham’s eye was darkened, he saw joy no more.” Fear and Trembling, S. Kierkegaard (London: Penguin, 1985, p. 46).
For our part, rather than emphasizing guilt as a motif of existence, we have highlighted certain redemptive aspects of the myth that involve divine mockery in the face of the laughter motivated by incredulity.
11 It is not only Jacob but also Moses who struggles with God. Thus we are told: “During the journey, while they were encamping for the night, the Lord met Moses, meaning to kill him.” Exodus, 4:24.
12 Israel, that is, “He Who Strives with God,” or “He Whom God Strives With.”
13 Peniel, that is, “the Face of God.”
14 “Arabic lexicographers explain that the nature of the lameness produced by injury to the sinew of the thigh socket causes a person so afflicted to walk on the tips of his toes. Such a dislocation of the hip is common among wrestlers, and was first described by Hippocrates. Displacement of the femur-head lengthens the leg, tightens the thigh tendons, and puts the muscles into spasm—which makes for a rolling, swaggering walk, with the heel permanently raised, like that attributed by Homer to the god Hephaestus. A belief that contact with the jinn results in a loose-mannered gait, as though disjointed, is found among the Arabs: perhaps a memory of the limping dance performed by devotees who believed themselves divinely possessed, like the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel (1 Kings, 18:26). Beth Hoglah, near Jericho, may have been so called for this reason, because hajala in Arabic means to hobble or hop, and both Jerome and Eusebius call Beth Hoglah ‘the place of the ring-dance.’ The Tyrians performed such limping dances in honor of Hercules Melkarth. It is possible, therefore, that the Peniel myth originally accounts for a limping ceremony which commemorated Jacob’s triumphal entry into Canaan after wrestling with a rival.” Hebrew Myths, The Book of Genesis, Graves and Patai, p. 229, footnote 7.
15 The theme of the divine limp is found extensively in universal mythology—from lame Hephaestus, who is thrown from Olympus, to the Terena and other tribal peoples such as those of Vancouver Island. The Ute Indians of Whiterocks in Utah practiced “limping dances,” and this can also be read in the Talmudic text that refers to the dances of abandon celebrated around the second century b.c.e. with the goal of producing rain. The idea of the divine limp also appears in ancient China. The founder of the Yin Dynasty, T’ang, who fought against drought, and the Great Yu, founder of the Chang Dynasty, were both hemiplegic and limped. Comments on this detail can be found in Frazer, The Golden Bough (4, vol. 7) and in C. Lévi-Strauss, From Honey to Ashes: Introduction to a Science of Mythology (New York: Harper and Row, 1973, vol. 2, pp. 460–64). On the point of the limping dances or ecstatic dances carried out with the goal of encouraging rainfall, we believe that the officiant or officiants of the ritual simulate the discomfort of those who complain of arthritic pains when storms approach. In such cases, an attempt is made to “trick” the heavens—and within that logic, if one limps it is because the rains are about to fall, and so it can do nothing else but rain. In the case of Jacob’s fight and subsequent limp, we believe that although it may have had to do with a rite, it was related not to the theme of rain but rather to the change of stage of the protagonist. This is confirmed by the transformation of his name into nothing less than that of Israel.
We might also consider the other case mentioned above. In this example of the struggle with Jehovah, Moses is not left lame; however, the fight is followed by the institution of circumcision. Furthermore, all of this occurs upon Moses’s return from Egypt, following God’s command to rescue his people from Pharaoh’s imprisonment. Therefore, the story of the “attempt” by God to “kill” Moses may also reflect a ceremony of change of condition.
16 We can do no less than transcribe a few paragraphs of Freud’s curious study regarding Moses and monotheism. Although his reasoning cannot be completely supported with any historical certainty, nonetheless certain aspects are worth bearing in mind. Of course, we will not reproduce here the psychoanalytic themes of the thesis that appeared under the title Moses and Monotheism in The Origins of Religion: Totem and Taboo, Moses and Monotheism and Other Works (see, e.g., London: Penguin, 1990). In the first chapter of this somewhat dated work, Freud attempts to prove that Moses was an Egyptian, and as proof cites a document of Sargon of Agade (founder of Babylon, circa 2800 b.c.e.) in which there appears a version of the story of a “rescue from the water” that was circulating throughout the entire cultural world of Mesopotamia at that time, and hence became known to the Semites born in Babylon or, like Abraham, born in Ur of Chaldea.
The text says: “Sargon, the mighty King, the King of Agade am I. My mother was a Vestal, my father I knew not, while my father’s brother dwelt in the mountains. In my city, Azupirani, which lies on the bank of the Euphrates, my mother, the Vestal, conceived me. Secretly she bore me. She laid me in a coffer made of reeds, closed the cover with pitch, and let me down into the river, which did not drown me. The river carried me to Akki, the drawer of water. Akki, the drawer of water, lifted me out in the kindness of his heart. Akki, the drawer of water, brought me up as his own son.”
Subsequently (p. 301ff.) Freud says: “…the Aten religion was abolished, the capital city of the Pharaoh, who was branded as a criminal, was destroyed and plundered. In about 1350 b.c.e. the Eighteenth Dynasty came to an end; after a period of anarchy, order was restored by general Haremhab, who reigned until 1315 b.c.e. Akhenaton’s reform seemed to be an episode doomed to be forgotten. To this point we have been dealing with what is established historically, and now ‘our’ hypothetical sequel begins.
“Among those in Akhenaton’s entourage there was a man who was perhaps called Tuthmosis, like many other people at that time—the name is not of great importance except that its second component must have been ‘-mose.’ He was in a high position and a convinced adherent of the Aten religion, but, in contrast to the meditative king, he was energetic and passionate. For him the death of Akhenaton and the abolition of his religion meant the end of all his expectations.… Under the necessity of his disappointment and loneliness he turned to these foreigners and with them sought compensation for his losses. He chose them as his people and tried to realize his ideals in them. After he had left Egypt with them, accompanied by his followers, he made them holy by the mark of circumcision, gave them laws and introduced them into the doctrines of the Aten religion, which the Egyptians had just thrown off.”
As for circumcision, we know that this was already an established rite in Egypt prior to Moses. And its use by various peoples can be historically confirmed even before its use by the Egyptians, so that it cannot be said to derive solely from them. That Moses could have been Egyptian does not strike us as especially important. The point of interest, rather, is that Egyptian cultural influence made itself felt in that part of the Jewish people who settled in the land of the pharaohs. The events set in motion by Akhenaton took place very close in time to the Exodus, and the religious theses espoused by Moses had much in common with those of the Egyptian reformer.
As for Freud’s historical interests, we must remember that around 1934 numerous hypotheses were circulating regarding the Egyptian origin of Moses, among them those of James Breasted and Edward Meyer, whom Freud often cites, echoing their discussion of the theme. Of course, from the time of Totem and Taboo in 1913, Freud was not indifferent to the theme of the foundations of religion. When Moses and Monotheism concludes that Moses was assassinated by a group of his own followers, neither the antecedents to the case nor the father–son relationship can be overlooked, at least not within the logic of psychoanalysis or that of the anthropological tradition represented by J. G. Frazer, to whom Freud was so indebted. Frazer held that the assassination of the leaders was a tendency that could be either manifest or hidden, but one that existed in many societies. As leaders know or intuit, the people must both care for them and guard against them—”He must not only be guarded, he must also be guarded against.”
17 Exodus 3:2–16. See also Exodus 6:2–3.
18 Exodus, 12:37–38.
19 According to Eusebius and Julius Africanus, Amenhotep had a canal built, which, beginning in the Nile at Coptos, below Thebes, passed through Cosseir on the Red Sea. This canal was closed during the invasion of Cambyses. Aristotle comments that either Ramses II or Sesostris opened a canal through the isthmus. The work was interrupted and then later continued by Necho, until finally it was finished by Darius. The canal started in Patumos on the Red Sea and ended in the Nile near Bubastis. The Ptolemies improved it, and Strabo describes seeing it in operation. The Romans maintained this canal for a century and a half following the Arab conquest. Apparently, the canal was blocked and then rebuilt by Omar. It remained navigable up to c.e. 765 at which time El-Mansur decided to close it to prevent Mohamed-ben-Abula from receiving provisions from his rebel companions (for more details on Egyptian canals see, e.g., Rompimiento del Istmo de Suez by C. S. Montesinos). Regarding the passage of the Israelites through a dry part of the Red Sea, despite the sparse historical data on this question, everything points to the existence of a system of sluices in a branch connected to the Nile—or at least indicates that excavation was in progress on two dry sectors that were later to have been connected by water. If this was the case, provisional containment walls would allow the canal work to proceed. It is thus possible that a heavily weighted Egyptian unit passing along one of those walls might well have caused it to collapse. If this explanation seems less than credible, we should remember the indirect route at one time planned for the Suez Canal, as described by Stephenson, Negrelli, and Paulin Talabot. According to that scheme, known as the Linant-Bey plan, twenty-four sluices were to be built connecting the Red Sea to the Nile. Furthermore, at the official opening of the Suez Canal on November 17, 1869, there were numerous sections that were barely twenty-two meters wide and 8.5 to 9 meters deep. We are not speaking, then, of a canal of vast dimensions or sluices of great height.
20 “When they came to Marah, they could not drink the water of Marah because it was bitter. This is why it was called Marah.” Exodus 15:23.
21 “The house of Israel called it manna; it was like coriander seed, white, and the taste of it was like wafers made with honey.” Exodus, 16:31. Here “manna” means “What is this?”—a reference to the surprise expressed by the Israelites upon eating the seeds that Moses gave to them.
22 Exodus 19:18–21.
23 Exodus 20:18.
24 Deuteronomy 33:4–7.
25 Deuteronomy 33:10–12.
V. Chinese Myths
1 The doctrine of the Tao is much older than either Lao Tsu or Confucius (both of whom lived in the sixth century b.c.e.). The rudiments of these ideas existed in the origin of the Huang Ho culture. Moreover, important antecedents to the development of Confucianism and Taoism can be found in The I Ching: The Book of Changes (possibly pre-tenth century b.c.e.). The I Ching is at times attributed to the legendary Fu Hsi; at other times to Wen, founder of the Chou Dynasty; and sometimes to a succession of authors and editors. What is clear, however, is that it has had enormous influence on the formation of numerous schools of thought, as well as giving rise to a series of divinatory techniques and other superstitions that still exist today.
2 Reference to the Tao Te Ching.
3 This is an allusion to chapter 11 of the Tao Te Ching. In the Chinese-English translation by Lin Yutang (from which it was translated into Spanish by A. Whitelow), we can read: “Thirty spokes are united around the hub; the usefulness of the wheel comes from its non-existence…”(?) Sabiduría China, transl. A. Whitelow (Buenos Aires: Nueva, 1945, p. 35).
4 Profundity in Taoism is considered the infinitely small, and the Profundity of Profundity, the infinite smallness of the infinitely small.
5 In this free translation, the return to sleep means the contraction or the freezing of all things after the first expansion. The great vortex continues to expand, according to Taoism, but the contraction that balances the universal wave begins in each thing.
6 Yin has been interpreted as a passive force, complementary to Yang. Yin, however, appears as a force that is previous to Yang. Associating Yin with the feminine and Yang with the masculine has given rise to a number of anthropological discussions in which it has been argued that this anteriority is historical rather than conceptual. This argument leads to the conclusion that the primacy of the feminine corresponds to a matriarchal epoch that was later displaced by the patriarchy in which Yang asserts its activity, as for example with the Dragon Emperor (Yang) and the Feng Empress (Yin).
7 This is an allusion to the myths of the afterlife. In the fragment included below, we find reflected various popular beliefs about the afterlife, although they are drawn from different epochs. For example, consider the case of the Eight Immortals that only appears in the thirteenth century c.e. (Yuan Dynasty), alongside figures that were feared or venerated anywhere from the eleventh to the second centuries b.c.e. (the classical period of the Chou Dynasty). In any case, this is a work of great merit that also gives certain ritual rules: “Do you know what they will do with you?” asked Tcheng-Kuang, looking at him attentively. “They will skin you alive, they will tear out your nails, your teeth, and your eyes, they will strip off your flesh and throw it to the vultures. Then dogs will gnaw your bones. And during the one hundred and five days of the Yin solstice, your relatives will not be able to visit your tomb and offer you the sacrifices of the festival of death. The young men of your village will throw their kites—illustrated with the legends of the Eight Immortal Sages—into the air. From these kites they will hang their bells and lanterns. Millions of lanterns will be lit that day in China, but none will be lit for you.… Nor will they burn sulfur or the leaves of the artemisa in the middle of the patio to expel the demons. Ching, the great demon who carries the register of Life and Death, will already have written your name on the door of Hell, on the Great Ocean, on the path that leads to the Yellow Fountains, where the dead live.… Sung-Ti, the Infernal Majesty who lives in the palace of the Black Ropes; and the Lord of the Five Senses, Yen-Lo; the terrible and the implacable Ping-Tang, Lord of the Hells; all will one by one make you pass through their torture chambers in an infinite cycle of torments. You will not go to the Kwang Sung Paradise, where the Queen Mother of the West strolls amid her peach trees, nor will you ever again see the sun, Father Yang, beautiful Raven of Gold, cross the sky in his chariot of flames.” See, e.g., La Flor del Tao, A. Quiroga (Madrid: Cárcamo, 1982, pp. 13ff., from the bilingual edition).
8 Ta Chuan: The Great Treatise. See, e.g., I Ching: Disertación de Ta Chuan, transl. A. Martínez (Quindio, Colombia: Ed. Tao, 1974).
9 Tao Te Ching, op. cit., 71.
VI. Indian Myths
1 The mystical literature of India is without doubt the most extensive in the world. Moreover, it is rich in extremely interesting scientific, philosophic, and artistic concepts. There have been many attempts to organize that enormous production in a simple way. Following a basic scheme, we can say that the four Vedas were followed by works of exegesis such as the Brahmanas, Aranyakas, and Upanishads. The oldest substrate of the Vedas can be dated to around the fifteenth century b.c.e. and the Brahmanas to around the sixth century b.c.e., while in general the Aranyakas are more recent, many of them having been first sketched out at almost the same time as the Brahmanas. The Upanishads, the most recent of these writings, are given the name “Vedanta” because they close the Vedic cycle. The Vedic cycle was composed in the language of the invaders of India, today referred to as Indo-European or Indo-Aryan. This language continued to transform over time, until finally being systematized in its classical expression known as Sanskrit. No longer used for secular purposes, today in the East it holds a position similar to that of ancient Greek in the West. According to Max Muller, the Vedas were written between 1200 and 800 b.c.e., the Brahmanas from 800 to 600 b.c.e., and the rest from 600 to 200 b.c.e. We note, however, that there is nothing in these texts that indicates when they were written, and it is clear that they were transmitted orally for many centuries before being written down. As for modern Hindu mythology, we can mention the two great epics, Ramayana and Mahabharata; the Puranas (traditional stories, of which there are eighteen); and the Tantras (there are five major ones). In this first section, which we have called “Fire, Storm, and Exaltation,” we have limited ourselves to presenting a loose and abbreviated version of some of the hymns dedicated to the three most important divinities of the Rig Veda. Authors such as Yaska, perhaps one of the oldest authorities in Vedic commentary, consider that Agni, Indra, and Surya (the Sun) constitute the fundamental trilogy of the literary monument that concerns us. It seems, however, that the supplanting of Soma in that trilogy corresponds to an important change in the mythic perspective of later authors with respect to the original Vedic stage.
2 Fire as the form of Agni. Various kinds of fire are distinguished in Agni: that of the Earth (wildfire, domestic fire, and sacrificial fire), that of the air (thunderbolt and lightning), and that of heaven (the sun). Agni is usually called “eater of wood” or “eater of fat,” the latter referring to the sacrificial fat that is spilled over him. He is born by the rubbing together of the two sacred sticks, and has no feet, hands, or head. He does, however, possess numerous tongues and hair of flames. His voice is a crackling. More than 200 hymns of the Rig Veda are dedicated to him, and he was also worshipped by the branch of the Aryans that settled in Iran. There he took on great importance in pre-Zarathustran religion, which continued after the reformer and appears even to this day in the religion of the Parsis. With the advance of Islam, the Parsi community in Iran was greatly reduced. The majority settled in Bombay, and their numbers in Iran dwindled to the current approximately 30,000. While Indra absorbed many of his attributes, nonetheless Agni in his sacrificial character continues to be involved with most of the Hindu divinities.
3 Storm as the form of Indra. Strictly speaking, the image of Indra is the lightning bolt. Here, however, he appears as the guide of the waters after having liberated them with his triumph over Vrta, the female-demon who held them prisoner. Vrta may have been a goddess of the native peoples, against whom the Aryans fought during their invasion of India through the Punjab. Although the indigenous inhabitants, who were displaced to the south, may have channeled water toward their fields and possessed a more advanced civilization than that of the foreigners, they lacked weapons of iron such as those of the invading hordes. In the Rig Veda, the aboriginal inhabitants are called “Dasyu,” no doubt a reference to the Dravidian people. We can also see in Indra the god who struggles against drought and liberates the beneficent waters of the sky. Some 200 hymns of the Rig Veda are dedicated to this god (one-quarter of the book), demonstrating the importance that he had in those times. Later, as he lost force, other gods absorbed many of his attributes.
4 Exaltation, as the form of the inebriating god Soma. This drink corresponds to the Haoma of the Aryans who invaded Iran. Even today the characteristics of the Soma-producing plant are the subject of much discussion. It seems possible that over time the drink was obtained from a succession of plants, giving rise to the confusion that has surrounded this theme. According to W. Wilkins in his Hindu Mythology, the plant in question is the acidic Asclepias of Roxburgh. It grows in the hills of the Punjab, in the Bolan Pass, around Poona, and elsewhere. But by the period in which the Vishnu Purana was written, intoxicants were already strictly prohibited, and hence Soma as such was not exalted. In any case, in this text it is loosely related to the moon, and with this the trail is completely lost. According to other authors, the plant is none other than a variety of Zygophyllaceae. It could be that what is involved is the seeds of the plant known as Syrian Rue (Peganum harmala), which was used by the Mesopotamians, who burnt it as a ceremonial fumigant.
There are also those who see in Soma a fermented, beer-like drink, similar to those consumed by the Indo-Europeans. But the most interesting theory has come from A. Hofmann (the discoverer of LSD). He states that Soma is in reality the fungus Amanita muscaria. According to Hofmann, what had been an ethnobotanical enigma for more than 2,000 years was solved in 1968—the year that Plants of the Gods was published. In that work (which he wrote in collaboration with R. Evans Schultes), Hofmann claims that the Amanita has been known as a hallucinogen since 1730, thanks to the information of a Swedish official who had been imprisoned in Siberia.
This official reported that the shamans there dried it, then added reindeer milk and ingested it. The resulting symptoms are the same as those reported by the native peoples of Lake Superior and other parts of North and Central America, who followed similar practices. It was later confirmed in the laboratory that the active ingredient was not muscarine as had been thought, but rather ibotenic acid. This acid was isolated, and finally the biochemist Takamoto obtained the alkaloid, muscimole. It was known through this investigation that it is in the process of drying the mushroom that the transformation is produced that converts the acid into muscimole.
The Swedish official mentioned earlier supplied another important observation from Russia. Apparently, in certain Siberian tribes the urine of shamans who had previously taken the mushroom was in turn ingested by others, producing effects similar to those displayed earlier by the shaman in trance. The authors of Plants of the Gods mention that this was possible because the psychoactive ingredients passed into the urine without being metabolized, or at least in metabolic forms that were still active—something not often found in the hallucinogenic components of plants. And what is more, in the Vedas it is mentioned that the urine of some participants in the Soma ceremony was collected in special receptacles, facts that allow us to establish these curious relationships. In India today, urine therapy based on drinking one’s own urine while fasting is still practiced. While this is not identical to the case described above, it is a custom that could very well have its earliest roots in the Vedic era of Soma “medicine.”
Regarding the Amanita, a late twelfth century Roman fresco in the chapel of Plaincourault shows it as the tree of Eden, with the famous serpent coiled around it. As for toxic substances used in religious ceremonies, the Assyrians already knew of cannabis in the first millennium b.c.e., and it was of course also used in Tibet and India to the same ends. In his travels, Marco Polo tells of the case of Hasan-al-Sabah, known as the “old man of the mountain,” who used hashish (from whose name comes “hashashim” or “ashasin,” which later becomes “assassin”). He claims that Al-Hasan would subject a group of young people to the intoxicant and then send them off against his enemies.
Surely, much of the use of aromatic substances had its origins in the inhalation of the smoke of hallucinogenic plants burnt for ritual purposes. With the observation of their toxic effects, it is possible that over time these plants were replaced by the resins still in use today in the practices of many religions—for example, incense, myrrh, and storax, as well as aromatic woods such as sandalwood. A similar path can be traced in the origin of certain perfumes that have disappeared over time.
As for the extent of use, we can say that out of the enormous number of terrestrial plant species, only some 150 have been used for their hallucinogenic properties. Of these, about 20 were known in the Eastern Hemisphere and 130 in the Western Hemisphere, with a significant number indigenous to Central and North America. In the origins of the universal religions, a few features can be observed that seem to suggest the presence of hallucinogenic substances. It would seem that, given the numerous references found in the Rig Veda (some 120 hymns), Soma ranks as the third most important god of Vedic India. And we cannot overlook the fact that in various times and places any number of religious manifestations have been related to the activity of toxic substances. Regarding abnormalities of perception and representation, see, for example, Contributions to Thought, “Psychology of the Image—Variations of the Space of Representation in States of Altered Consciousness” in Silo: Collected Works, Volume I (San Diego: Latitude Press, 2003).
5 Rig Veda I, 1, 2. An adaptation that draws in part on the translation of F. Villar Liébana (Madrid: Ed. Nacional, 1975).
6 Rig Veda I, 31, 2.
7 Rig Veda I, 36, 14ff.
8 Rig Veda I, 60, 3.
9 Rig Veda I, 78, 2. It is possible that the historical Buddha is descended from a branch of this Gotama family. In the Rig Veda the Rahüganas are mentioned as belonging to that group (I, 78, 5).
10 Rig Veda II. 4, 5ff.
11 Rig Veda I, 32, 1ff.
12 Rig Veda III, 48, 1ff.
13 Rig Veda IX, 1, 5ff.
14 Rig Veda IX, 45, 3ff.
15 Rig Veda IX, 48, 3ff.1
16 Rig Veda IX, 50, 1.
17 Rig Veda IX, 57, 1ff.
18 Rig Veda X, 129, 1ff. An adaptation that draws in part on the translation of R. Griffith.
19 Based on works including W. Wilkins’s translation of the Mahabharata, Mitología Hindú (Barcelona: Visión, 1980).
20 A reference to the teaching of Buddha (500 b.c.e.), according to whose doctrine the human being can be liberated from the wheel of reincarnations and reach Nirvana, a kind of dissolution from the point of view of the sense characteristics that form the “I.” The Buddhist doctrine (strictly speaking a philosophy and not a religion) was gradually converted into a religious belief that in turn gave rise to an abundant mythology.
21 “Om” is often pronounced at the beginning of prayers and religious ceremonies. Originally, the letters that made up this word (a-u-m) represented the Vedas. With time, it came to denote the three principal deities of the Puranic cycle—Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva.
22 This oration comes from the Vishnu Purana. Regarding Brahma’s name, Monier Williams has this to say: “Only a few hymns of the Vedas appear to contain the simple conception of the existence of a divine and omnipresent being. Even in these, the idea of a god present in all of nature is a bit diffuse and undefined. In the Purusha Sutra of the Rig Veda, the One Spirit is named Purusha. The most common name in the later system is Brahman, neutral (nominative Brahma), from the root brih, ‘to expand,’ denoting the unity of the expansive essence, or the universally diffused substance of the universe.… Brahma is the neutral, being the ‘simply infinite being’ (the only real and eternal essence) who, when passing to manifested essence, is called Brahma; when it develops itself in the world it is called Vishnu; and when it again dissolves within itself into a single being, it takes the name Shiva; all the remaining and innumerable gods and semi-gods are also new manifestations of the neutral Brahman, who is eternal.” Indian Wisdom, M. Williams, p. 12. Cited by Wilkins, Hindu Mythology–Vedic and Puranic, p. 106.
23 The title of this section, “The Forms of Beauty and Horror,” synthesizes the contradictory sensation that divinities so often present, in which both their dual beneficent and sinister faces can be seen. The first case presented is the transformation of Krishna before the hero Arjuna. The second is that of the radiant Parvati, who is quite capable of destroying a monster, drinking its blood, and devouring its remains—and then, as mild and beautiful as always, returning to the side of her beloved Shiva. Baudelaire, struck by a similar contradictory state provoked within him by his lover, wrote his Hymn to Beauty, which could very well be dedicated to those ambivalent gods: “Are you of heaven or the nether world? Charmed Destiny, your pet, attends your walk; you scatter joys and sorrows at your whim, and govern all, and answer no man’s call.… Beauty, you walk on corpses, mocking them; Horror is charming as your other gems.… What difference, then, from heaven or from hell? O Beauty, monstrous in simplicity? If eye, smile, step can open me the way to find unknown, sublime Infinity? Flowers of Evil, C. Baudelaire, transl. James McGowan (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993).
24 Arjuna is one of the heroes of the epic Mahabharata.
25 Adapted from The Bhagavad Gita, Canto 11, see, e.g., the translation of J. Roviralta Borrell (Mexico City: Diana, 1974). The Bhagavad Gita is an episode within the Mahabharata, written toward the third century b.c.e.
VII. Persian Myths
1 Zarathustra, or Zoroaster, lived between approximately 660 and 580 b.c.e. His preaching began in a remote district of eastern Iran. From the religious point of view, he is one of the more important figures because, among other things, his personal existence is as verifiable as that of Mohammed—something that is not the case for many other founders. Although making use of Indo-Iranian and various primitive elements, this prophet initiates a new universal religion that will have a powerful impact on others. His cosmology and cosmogony, his apocalypticism, and his ideas on salvation begin a religious cycle that, together with Isaiah, Malachi, and Daniel (of the Bible), will have enormous influence in wide regions of both the East and the West.
Subsequently, Zoroastrianism, transformed into Mithraism, will advance once again, this time toward Imperial Rome. In fierce competition with Christianity, it will have great influence on this new religion, but even when Christianity imposes itself in alliance with Roman political power, the seeds of Mithraism will grow in the bosom of the Church to the point of being expressed as serious heresies. The same will occur in Iran, where the Muslim invasion will end up eradicating Zoroastrianism almost entirely, but many of its ideas will go on to produce the Shiite heresy within Islam. Once again in the nineteenth century, Ba’ and the Bahai faith will arise as yet another transformation of the teachings of Zarathustra.
In its doctrinary aspect, the writing of the Avesta or Zend-Avesta is attributed to Zarathustra, but it seems that the prophet wrote only the Yasna (perhaps only seventeen of its hymns, or Gathas). The Avesta is made up of the Yasna (seventy-two chapters of Parsi liturgy); the Vispared (twenty-four chapters of invocations); the Vendidad (another twenty-two chapters); the Yashts (twenty-one chapters with invocations to angels, which constitutes the Avesta of the priesthood); and the Khordah Avesta or Minor Avesta (book of priestly and private devotions).
For our quotation from the Avesta, we have used only the Gathas and the Vendidad-Sade. The Gathas were written in Avestin, the language of ancient Bactria, but the original texts suffered numerous vicissitudes from the time of Alexander’s passage through Persia. That is why the material has come down to us in the Pehlevi language, surely with major gaps and interpolations of all kinds.
We should bear in mind that, probably owing to the wars or disputes that occurred between those primitive tribes, the division between the Indian and Iranian branches of the Aryans caused certain divinities or spirit-beings that were held in common at the time of their origin to diverge and even take on opposing characters. Thus, Indra and the Devas are worthy of devotion in the Hindu Vedas, but have a sinister character in the Avesta. The same occurs with the legendary Yima of the Avesta (“Jamshid, chief of peoples and herds” for Anquetil-Duperron, according to the citation of Bergua), who, in the Vedas, appears as Yama, the divinity of death (Rig-Veda 1, 38, 5). Haoma (Soma in the Vedas) and Mithra (the Vedic Mitra), however, both maintain their beneficent characteristics.
2 This is an allusion to the beginning of Thus Spoke Zarathustra. “When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lakes of his home and went into the mountains.” Thus Spoke Zarathustra, F. Nietzsche (London: Penguin, 1961, p. 39). It seems that Nietzsche’s preoccupation with the Persian prophet began when, as a youth, he saw Zarathustra in his dreams. In correspondence with his sister Elizabeth and Lou Andreas Salomé, as well as in comments to Peter Gast and E. Rhode, Nietzsche describes Zarathustra as someone capable of founding a new morality—and, as such, a destroyer or transformer of established values.
3 A reference to Zarathustra’s cosmological and cosmogonic system, developed by Persian magi.
4 Kine, soul of living beings and particularly of livestock. Ahura Mazda, divinity of Light, also known as Ohrmazd.
5 Yasna 44.3. Adapted from Avesta, which see, e.g., transl. by J. Bergúa (Madrid: Bergúa, 1974).
6 Yasna 44.4.
7 Yasna 44.5.
8 Yasna 44.6.
9 Based on the second Fargard, 2ff. Adaptation of Vendidad-Sade.
10 Vendidad-Sade, second Fargard, 2, 7ff.
11 Vendidad-Sade, nineteenth Fargard, 52.
12 Vendidad-Sade, tenth Fargard, 17.
13 Vendidad-Sade, eighteenth Fargard, 29 and 31.
14 Vendidad-Sade, fifteenth Fargard, 5 and 6.
15 Yasna 30.3.
16 Yasna 30.4.
17 Yasna 30.5.
18 Yasna 30.6.
19 Yasna 30.8. Refers to the alliance between the Daeva spirits and Ahriman, god of darkness and evil.
20 Yasna 30.8.
21 Yasna 45.2.
22 Yasna 53.2.
23 Yasna 51.13.
24 Yasna 49.11.
25 Yasna 51.15.
VIII. Greco-Roman Myths
1 Under this heading we have included not only a number of Greek and Roman myths but also myths belonging to the Cretan-Mycenean world, which would in reality, therefore, merit separate treatment. The reader will notice that we consistently use Greek rather than Roman names for the subjects dealt with, since the sons of Romulus absorbed their most prominent myths from Greek culture, at times changing only the names and places in which certain events unfolded. In no way are we saying that Roman culture never gave rise to its own myths and legends, for the successive waves of invaders of those lands must surely have encountered older inhabitants, who certainly possessed mythic and religious forms differing to a greater or lesser degree from the newer contributions. Moreover, the influence of the Greeks on Roman culture is not the only factor to consider, since numerous related “histories” come from the Egyptians, Phrygians, Hittites, and others.
Turning to the case at hand, we see that within Greek mythology itself the names of many gods have foreign origins. However, it is one thing to collect (and frequently transform) legends and myths from the pens of ancient mythographers, and it is quite another to understand the actual role that the gods, demigods, and other entities played in the personal and collective cult. In reality it is there—in the cults themselves—that the real importance of myths should be sought, and in relation to the system of beliefs that people held, more than to simple poetic, plastic, and at times philosophic expression, as for example in the case of Plato, creator of “myths” (Symposium, Phaedo, Phaedrus, Republic, and others) through which he expounds his doctrine. For our part, we have appealed to the texts of Homer, Pindar, Euripides, Sophocles, and Aeschylus for their great expressive beauty. Of course, we have also drawn on Hesiod’s Theogony and Works and Days, which, although they lack the poetic flight of other authors, constitute important works of compilation and “classification.”
Historically, the myths that concern us circulated throughout the Greek-speaking world from the tenth century b.c.e. to approximately the fourth century of the present era. Thus, works such as those of Hecatus, written in the sixth century b.c.e., would have been of inestimable value, but unfortunately only dubious fragments of his four books of Genealogies have reached us. Nonetheless, that author’s work seems to have decisively influenced Pherecyde, who writes on the first Athenian myths.
To be sure, it is not a question of rejecting later, including Roman, authors. However, in the measure that time passes, the tangle of information grows in such a way that the original source becomes confused with more recent creations. The most important beings mentioned in this chapter of “Greco-Roman myths” are (Greek designations with Roman equivalents): Cronus = Saturn; Zeus = Jupiter; Hera = Juno; Rhea = Cybele; Hermes = Mercury; Demeter = Ceres; Persephone = Proserpina; Dionysus = Bacchus; and Herakles = Hercules.
2 Adaptation from Hesiod’s Theogony, v. 154–81 (see, e.g., London: Penguin, 1973). Hesiod of Askra, first half of the seventh century b.c.e.(?).
3 There are three Erinyes: Tisiphone (Avenger of Murder), Alecto (Unceasing in Anger), and Magaera (Ever Jealous). According to A. Garibay, all three refer to personifications of the idea of redressing the order destroyed by a crime. They have, among other missions, the mandate to repress the rebellion of the young against the old. They live in Erebus and are older than Zeus. For A. Bartra, they are the spirits of punishment and blood vengeance. Lastly, P. Grimal relates that they were born from the drops of blood with which the Earth was impregnated when Uranus was castrated. They were also called “Eumenides” and “the “Furies” by the Romans.
4 Theogony, v. 460–74.
5 Theogony, v. 470–501.
6 Theogony, v. 686–92.
7 Theogony, v. 693–99.
8 Theogony, v. 717–20.
9 Theogony, v. 730–32.
10 Freely adapted from Euripides’ The Trojan Women; see near the end of scene 11 in J. P. Sartre’s adaptation (Buenos Aires: Losada, 1967). The quoted passage is the speech given by Poseidon, but we have taken the liberty of putting it in the mouth of Prometheus since it fits his character so closely, as well as the general context in which the Titan tells his tale. In any case, the surprise evoked by the introduction of admonishments such as: “Make war, stupid mortals—destroy fields and cities, violate temples and tombs, torture the vanquished—you only prepare your own destruction!” is understandable inasmuch as it breaks with the serious epic style in a mocking dissonance more proper to the mid-twentieth century, with a very Sartrean flavor. Euripides was born on Salamis in 480 b.c.e. and died in 406.
11 Adapted from Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus, Episode 2. Aeschylus was born in Eleusis in 525 b.c.e. and died in 456.
12 Prometheus Bound, Episode 2, after the first Chorus.
13 Son of Iapetus. Iapetus, in turn, is the son of Uranus and Gaia and brother of Cronus and the other Titans (Oceanus, Coeus, Hyperion, and Creus), and the Titanids (Tethys, Rhea, Themis, Mnemosyne, Phoebe, Dione, and Theia). The Titans and Titanids belong to the first generation of gods (called the “Titan gods”). From the line of Iapetus and Clymene come Atlantis, Menoetius, Prometheus, and Epimetheus; just as from the line of Cronus and Rhea come Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus. Prometheus is, then, a “cousin” of Zeus. But it is the line of Cronus (those of the “Cronida”) that prevails. Epimetheus, brother of Prometheus (and his opposite, with his clumsiness and lack of ingenuity), accepts Pandora as a gift, and Zeus uses her to ruin humanity one more time. From Epimetheus and Pandora is born Pyrrha, and from Prometheus and Clymene is born Deucalion. These two form the couple that repopulates the world after the Flood that Zeus sent as a new punishment. And once again it is thanks to another action of Prometheus that human beings manage to save themselves. This comes about because Prometheus instructs Deucalion and Pyrrha to build an Ark. Afterward, the survivors of the catastrophe make men rise again by throwing stones behind themselves (over the shoulder), while they walk through the fields. Then women and men are born, a product of that “sowing.” In all of the above, it is most notably the line of the children of Iapetus that promotes the propagation of the human being.
14 Theogony, v. 535–70 and 615–18.
15 Theogony, v. 521–25.
16 Adapted from The Homeric Hymns, 2: To Demeter (in Iliad 2) (see, e.g., Buenos Aires: Losada, 1982).
17 On Nature, 1 and 2, by Metrodorus of Kio.
18 Adapted from The Homeric Hymns, 26: Hymn to Dionysus.
IX. Nordic Myths
1 Regarding the antecedents of Nordic literature related to myths, F. Durand gives the following historical review: “In 1643, the Icelandic bishop of Skalholt discovered a manuscript, which he gave to Frederick III, king of Denmark. The Codex Regius contained, under the generic title of Edda, a group of very old poems that had been transcribed by Snorri in the early thirteenth century. Later the manuscript of another scholar, Saemund, was found, which contained the same works and shed light on the use of the plural, Eddas. Conceived in a pre-literary era, the greater part these poems appear to date from the seventh and eighth centuries, but certain philologists date the most archaic of them as belonging to the sixth century. It is evident that these poems were first recited in Norway, and were transmitted from generation to generation until the colonizers brought them to the island of ‘fire and ice.’ Later, the medieval scribes copied them onto vellum parchment, saving them from oblivion. The rest of Scandinavia also participated in carrying forward this work. So, for example, in the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus there can be found Latin translations of what can be characterized as proto-Eddic works.
“The magnificent tenth century Danish poem, the Bjarkemaalet, which Olaf made his men sing in formation in Stiklestad, differs only slightly from certain Eddic strophes.” See, e.g., Los Vikingos, F. Durand (Buenos Aires: Eudeba, 1975, pp. 108–109). In this way, a tradition that had begun in the era of migrations (between the third and fourth centuries) and spread throughout the Germanic world, was recovered.
This particular mythic literature remained restricted to the Scandinavian environment, but if we are speaking of groups of more or less epic Nordic legends or writings, we find as many productions in England as in Germany and other countries. However, owing to a complex of factors, including geography, we are here focusing on a type of literature that is found concentrated principally in Iceland. From the discovery and colonization of Iceland by the Norwegians (around c.e. 874) to the first generation of Christian Icelanders (around c.e. 1000), numerous phenomena occurred throughout the Scandinavian world that can readily be shown to coincide with the “Viking cycle.”
This turbulent epoch, of expansion and continuous conflict, ran head-on into the advance of the continental powers and Christianity. During this period, invaluable documentation was destroyed or lost in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark. However, in Iceland, an enormous body of work was preserved, and moreover continued to be produced, until well into the eighth century. This is the case of the Elder Edda, from which we have drawn the verses with mythological themes, leaving aside the epic themes. Fortunately for literature, the towering figure of Snorri Sturluson (1179–1241) then appeared. He composed numerous sagas, and, particularly in his Gylfaginning (The Deluding of Gylfi), and to some degree in his Skaldskaparmal (The Poetics), single-handedly rescued Nordic mythology. Thus, thanks to the Icelanders we have the Elder Edda or Verse Edda (also known as the Poetic Edda), as well as the Younger Edda (or Prose Edda or Snorri’s Edda), which together constitute the most reliable sources of Nordic mythology.
2 Elder Edda, Völuspá, 17–18.
3 This is a generic designation for the gods. When speaking of a particular goddess, she would be called an Asinia.
4 Space filled with energy. When the ice stopped flowing, this place was filled and sank from the weight of the ice. When, in some places, ice and volcanic fire fought with one another and the frozen glaciers melted, Ymir began to form from the drops of water. Ymir is the first of the Frost Giants. He has within him volcanic heat and some of the energy of Ginnungagap.
5 The place of northern ice, as opposed to Muspel, the mythic hot region of the south. There lives a giant who brandishes a sword of fire with which he defends the place. At the end of time he will leave there and set the world afire.
6 A spring.
7The serpent that gnaws at the roots of Yggdrasil.
8 One of the Aesir.
9 Adapted from The Gylfaginning (The Deluding of Gylfi). The loss of an eye in exchange for a greater good also appears reflected in other legends and stories such as the following, which moreover tells us something about bellicose Viking behavior: “When he reached the farm where Armod and his wife and daughter were sleeping, Egil threw open the door and went to Armod’s bed. Drawing his sword, he grabbed Armod’s beard with his other hand and pulled him to the edge of the bed. But Armod’s wife and daughter quickly rose and pleaded with Egil not to kill him. Egil said that although Armod deserves to be killed, he would desist for their sakes. And so Egil cut the beard from Armod’s chin; then he plucked out Armod’s eye with his finger and left it hanging on his cheek; then Egil and his companions departed.” Egil’s Saga, Snorri Sturluson.
10 Based on The Song of the Nibelungen.
11 The spirit of the past. The Norns should be viewed as engraving on their tablets, that is, imprinting the magic runes in which they set down people’s destinies. This is not a case, then, of their being “spinners” in the style of the Roman Parcae or the Greek Moirae.
12 The spirit of the present.
13 The spirit of the future.
14 Adapted from The Gylfaginning, 6 and 16.
15 The dwelling of the heroes. The Valkyries choose the valiant who die in battle, but also decide the outcome of the battles. These warrior women bring to mind the Amazons, although their action is somewhat less direct. We are also reminded of historical precedents in which the women of the primitive Germans participated in, and at times affected, the outcome of battles. It is possible that such customs later contributed to the mythification of the Viking Valkyries.
In his Germanica, Tacitus (c.e. 55–120) tells us: “Close at hand, too, are their dearest, whence is heard the wailing voice of woman and the child’s cry: here are the witnesses who are in each man’s eyes most precious; here the praise he covets most: they take their wounds to mother and wife, who do not shirk from counting the hurts and demanding a sight of them: they minister to the combatants food and exhortation.
“Tradition relates that some having lost, or losing battles, have been restored thanks to their women, by their incessant prayers and by the baring of their breasts; for so is it brought home to the men that the slavery, which they dread much more keenly on their women’s account, is close at hand: it follows that the loyalty of those tribes is more effectually guaranteed from whom, among other hostages, maids of high birth have been exacted.
“Further, they conceive that in woman there is a certain uncanny and prophetic sense: they neither scorn to consult them nor slight their answers.” Tacitus, Germania, transl. W. Peterson (London: William Heinemann, 1914).
16 Tacitus (Germanica, p. 346) referring to the inebriating drink (beer) and to the nutritional habits of the primitive Germans, comments: “They make a drink of barley and wheat that is something like wine. Those who live near the shores of the Rhine buy it. Their food is simple: wild apples, fresh venison, and curdled milk. Without any pomp, fuss, or luxury they satisfy their hunger; but they do not use the same temperance against thirst. And if one gave them to drink as much as they like, it would be as easy to defeat them with wine as with weapons.”
Mead is mentioned in the Edda—a drink of the gods and one that should not be confused with beer, even though they are sometimes figuratively identified.
17 Since Wagner, “Ragnarök” has been translated as the “Twilight of the Gods.” However, a more correct translation would be “Destiny of the Gods,” which we have taken as the title of this scene.
18 Adapted from La Alucinación de Gylfi, Snorri Sturluson, transl. J. L. Borges (Buenos Aires: Alianza, 1984, 51).
19 Völuspa, 58.
20 Völuspa, 45.
21 La Alucinación de Gylfi, 51.
22 This final speech of Haki’s is loosely reminiscent of Snorri’s description in the Ynglingasaga of the battle of Fyrisvellir, in which Haki was seriously wounded. “And so he ordered his ship to be brought, he had it loaded with dead men and their weapons, he had it launched, he had the helm set toward the sea and the sails hoisted, and had a pyre of dry wood lit on deck. The wind blew from the land. Haki was dying or already dead when he was laid on the pyre. The flaming ship then disappeared over the horizon, and this was long etched in memory.” The bitterness of a world that is dying is reflected in the words that we have put in Haki’s mouth. Haki is not a Viking who converts to Christianity—on the contrary, he makes us understand that the defeat before the advancing religion (that of the “foreign peoples”) is in reality only an interval during which numerous Nordic images and myths invade the conqueror.
X. American Myths
1 There are numerous American myths, including brilliant productions such as The Book of Chilam Balam, a great literary monument of the Mayan culture in the Yucatán region of Mexico. In our treatment, we have focused on the book of the Quichés of Guatemala, which has been translated under various titles: Popul Vuh: The Ancient Stories of the Quiché by A. Recinos (Mexico: F.C.E. Our references are to the sixth printing of 1970, although the book was written in 1947); Popul Vuh or Book of the Council of the Quiché Indians by M. Asturias and J. M. Gonzalez de Mendoza (Buenos Aires: Losada. Our references are to the second edition of 1969, although it was written in 1927); Pop Wuj: Mytho-historical Kiche Poem by Adrian I. Chavez (Quetzaltenango, Guatemala: Centro Editorial Vile. We reference the first edition of 1981, although the text was written in 1979).
The Recinos translation was based on the manuscript entitled Art of the Three Tongues (Arte de las Tres Lenguas), written at the beginning of the eighteenth century by Friar Francisco Ximenez. The original document passed to the Brasseur collection and later into the hands of A. Pinart, who in turn sold it to E. Aller, and from there it reached the Newberry Library, from which Recinos obtained a photocopy.
Arciniegas’s work was translated to the Spanish from the French version, entitled Les dieux, les héros, et les hommes de l’ancien Guatemala d’aprés le Livre du Conseil by P. Reynaud, who used the Ximenez manuscript. And finally, the Chavez translation was also based on the Ximenez manuscript, although with the precaution of preserving the two columns that the friar had used. Ximenez had put the Quiché transcription (Hispanicized) in the first column and the Spanish translation in the second column. Chavez updated the original Quiché transcribed by Ximenez and used that material as the basis of his Spanish translation. In 1927 a translation by Villacorta and Rodas, based on the French text of Brasseur, was published in Guatemala, but the book has remained unavailable to us. The same occurred with another Brasseur translation by J. Arriola, published in Guatemala in 1972. In each case, the source document is that of Ximenez. Between 1701 and 1703, a manuscript written in the Quiché language but using the Latin alphabet came to him through the royal council of the town of Santo Tomás (today Chichicastenango). The document dated from the mid-sixteenth century. Unfortunately, the original was lost, but Ximenez took care to copy it, although with some alterations.
2 Chavez believes that this phrase refers to the crossing from Asia of the new inhabitants of North America—that is, from the West.
3 Chavez states that the “paintings” were real books or tablets folded together and bound, and not simply isolated engravings on rock, bone, or wood. Supporting his point of view, he cites Relación de las cosas de Yucatán by Friar Diego de Landa, in which the author says: “We found a great number of their books, their letters, and because there was nothing there that did not involve superstition and the falsity of the demon, we burned all of it. This they felt very strongly and suffered greatly from it.”
4 Adapted from the translation by Recinos, Popul Vuh: The Ancient Stories of the Quiché.
5 From here to the end our text also draws on the translation of Arciniegas.
6 Chavez believes that this is some sort of oil from a cosmic cataclysm. But it could be the result of burning petroleum expelled in the rupture of a methane stratum during a volcanic eruption.
7 A reference to a long and winding “descent” from very cold regions to regions more suitable for permanent settlements.
•••
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment