Pythagoras the Mathemagician

by Karim El Koussa

  The City of a god

  Towering above the metropolis of Crotona, the White City stood magnificent on top of the verdant hill. The majestic Cedars and the olive trees heightened the splendor with their evergreen leaves. The golden sunrays reflected on the immaculate ivory of the high walls. A tranquil serenity swathed the whole area with an eerie ambiance of peace that the birds praised with their melodious songs.

  The outsiders stood always in awe in front of what they had surnamed the Celestial City with Mighty Walls. The great mystery that cloaked its very foundations kept impelling the youth of Crotona, as well as those of the adjacent cities, to seek admittance. In spite of the difficult rules of the Master, curiosity goaded many to venture inside its secrecy, with a passionate aspiration to discover the unknown. Yet, to enroll, young men and women should be introduced by their parents. Sometimes, it was one of the assigned Masters of the Pythagorean Society who assumed the introduction.

  At the massive wooden gated entrance, one could admire the marble statue of Hermes-Enoch, the father of the spiritual laws. A cubical stone formed its stall where a skillful hand had carved the words: No entry to the vulgar.

  Inside the city, an amalgam of scents emanated from a diversity of flowers that bloomed from patches scattered around in attractive geometrical forms. Every main edifice benefited from its own botanical courtyard; the Majestic Temple of the Muses, the humble residence of the Master, the two dormitories for men and women, and the gymnasium, which was under rapid construction, just to name a few. Several verdurous patios spread throughout the entire domain as if Eden had resurrected on Earth to reflect the unique harmonious rhythm that existed among the living elements of Nature.

  The live-in disciples counted in the hundreds by then; some had remained with Pythagoras ever since Samos. Many of the youth of Crotona had soon joined in. Men and women alike had adhered to the Fraternity and abided by its rules. One could see, at that moment, young women in dainty tunics of different colors and shades walking down the hill in a row. They headed to the Temple of the grand goddess Ceres-Astarte on the shore. There, they would proffer the sacred rites to the young deity who personified the deepest mysteries of womanhood and Mother Nature.

  Through the gates of the Temple of El-Apollo, the Sun God, men in white robes proceeded with devotion. Royally hoisted within the White City, the new shrine had witnessed, in the previous week, a grand opening ceremony led by the Master himself. Currently, the procession of the devotees entered the Temple to perform the rituals that would connect them with the Heavens above.

  Then, to the right, the sports center…

  The Pythagorean gymnasium differed, to a large extent, from those built in the other Italian cities. Even in its present incomplete structure, the athletic amphitheater promised to bypass any major gymnasium ever built in the region not only in size and beauty, but more importantly, by the new regulations of the Master. These rules, in fact, forbade all violent games and trivial palavers.

  For the moment, active youngsters used the playing field to engage in mild sports. Some ran a court race, some competed in hurling heavy metal disks, and others darted their bronze arrows onto wooden boards. In the central square, some players performed a simulated fight in the form of Dorian dances. All the players abided strictly to the rules of the Master and avoided, at all costs, any brutal fight that could incite hatred and destroy friendships.

  About the White City, people convened in various groups, here and there, to share their thoughts in a civilized manner that required freedom of speech and reciprocal respect. A sense of contentment reigned in their communication, for mutual esteem and tolerance led their hearts and minds. As instructed by the Master, such a method always allowed the revelation and recognition of the true-self.

  As per the rules, new novices could enjoy a few days of unbound errands for personal acquaintance. Then, they would undertake a series of tests and trials under the strict surveillance of the Masters. Pythagoras attended these examinations, covertly, in order to observe and analyze the behavior and expressions of the new students. Having long studied the Human Physiognomy, he had mastered the art of determining the personality of the new novices from their features.

  In reality, the Lover of Sophia proved to be a skillful observer par excellence. Minds and hearts yielded always to his stare and scrutiny. And since he cared for the City to encompass but the best potentials, he weighed every novice for the final admittance to his Society of Initiation. In addition to the cerebral potential and skills, a neophyte needed to excel in character and personality.

  “The Truth I tell you! Not all wood is proper for sculpting a Hermes,” Master Pythagoras often stated, and by wood he meant the novice seeking his Initiation.

  As a matter of fact, crossing the cubical stone of Hermes-Enoch at the entrance did not ensure adherence to the Pythagorean Secret Society. A year of trials should be achieved while delving in the Master’s several interesting topics on life issues. Based on the outcome, Master Pythagoras would ultimately decide on their admission. Failure would send them back home and back to their life as commoners.

  * * *

  As an alternative to the Egyptian cryptic tests of Memphis, Pythagoras adapted a test of endurance and cerebellum. The trial required from the novice to spend a night of complete isolation inside a cave at the foot of the hill of the White City. Memories of previous tales of monsters and phantoms, alleged to dwell near and inside the cave, made it harder on the beginners. In a state of mind that wrecked their nerves and tested their valor, they brazened out their hallucinations that could deceive their better judgment on the realities of the phenomenal world. Eventually, some had refused to submit to this initial psychological and physical test. Some had simply escaped in the middle of the night. Both categories had wasted, in consequence, their unique chance to continue the process of Initiation. Truth be told, many had failed the tests in overcoming the illusions of their minds.

  Aristaeus, a young man from Crotona, undertook his assessment with eagerness. He looked forward, with bravery, to the aforesaid hard process of acceptance. However, when one of his Masters woke him up – in the middle of the night – without prior notice; he followed him, in disoriented confusion, into a special Spartan cell inside the White City.

  “This is your test of acceptance, Aristaeus of Crotona,” his sponsoring Master commanded in a dry voice that chilled the bones of the young novice. “You must decode one of the Pythagorean symbols. Once you find the answer, or simply give up, you will let me know by knocking on the door.”

  Aristaeus glanced around the dark, cold cell. He noticed a small candle, an old clay water jar, and a piece of bread placed on a bamboo mat on the floor. He shuddered and turned to his Master.

  Gathering all his courage, he uttered, “What is it? I’m ready.” He wished to sound more convincing. Under the circumstances, that was all he could come up with.

  The Master nodded briefly. His eyes conveyed more challenge than approval. “Very well then. What is the meaning of the Square?”

  Aristaeus lifted his eyebrows in puzzlement. His own question remained pending for the Master disappeared at once behind the door. The sound of the key turning inside the lock resounded in his ears akin a death knell.

  What is the meaning of the Square?

  He murmured once, and then twice, and for the long moments that elapsed. He finally sagged to the ground. He held his head with both hands while his mind labored for the answer. He drew the symbol with his index finger on the dusty floor to discern what hid behind it, or around it, or inside it. He tried it again and again. Nothing materialized in his mind. He started to panic. Time became his enemy. He bit on his now dusty nails. Sweat ran in rivulets from his forehead. He tried again. He refused to give in.

  For the next several hours, he strove to decipher the meaning behind this simple shape. He completely tuned off all his senses to ignore the occasional weird sounds that swelled up from the dark areas of the cell. He even clo
sed his eyes, at times, to avoid the hallucinations that distracted him.

  A square… His mind repeated.

  A square… a shape of a house… He tried to figure it out with its representation, yet no answer ensued.

  He lost the sense of time. Thus, when his mind formulated the most probable answer, he realized that the exact hours of his isolation had escaped him.

  A square is the shape of a house… which could be… the four sides of the world…

  Of course! He leaped to his feet. “The square must be the symbol of the material world. It could not be otherwise!”

  He charged to the door with renewed energy and knocked with vehemence. The sponsoring Master pierced him with curiosity when he came face to face with him.

  At the smile of triumph that Aristaeus flashed at him, he uttered in doubt, “We’ll see… we’ll see. Go wash and meet me at the door of the Assembly Hall, inside the homakoeion”

  “The Common Auditorium?” Aristaeus asked more to himself than anyone else. He knew that door very well for having seen it so many times; a door whose access had never been permitted to him, akin all novices.

  Less than an hour later, both Aristaeus and his Master entered the Common Auditorium. Students, very much like Aristaeus, gathered in groups with their Masters, and a few recent members of the Inner Circle. Being a Pythagorean listener, thus an element of the Outer Circle still, Aristaeus joined his fellow members, who were deep in conversation, confidently.

  The Outer Circle included some prominent personalities from Crotona as well as from the other independent cities of southern Italy – extending from Sybaris to Rhegium. Called the Pythagorists, these members usually enjoyed access to the lectures given by Pythagoras, yet without the rights to participate in the dialogues and discussions. They were surely not present there at the Common Auditorium, for no lectures were to be given by the High Master that day.

  As a matter of fact, that day was very special to students, like Aristaeus, who were present and waiting to face their eventual fate. It was a day when they would be acknowledged with certain admiration into the Pythagorean Society or simply abandoned to their ordinary life outside the White City.

  Aristaeus met some adepts of the second degree. From their exchange, he came to know that after their observance period of two to three years they had undertaken the Pythagorean first degree; a Preparation period of three to five years. Aristaeus heeded with admiration how their hitherto achievement had earned them the approval of Master Pythagoras. In accordance, they were now in the direct discipleship of the second degree, better known as the Pythagorean Purification.

  Someone nudged Aristaeus who veered at once to face the mocking eyes of a member of the Inner Circle.

  “So! Here he is, the new brilliant Philosopher!”

  The sarcastic tone irritated him, yet he bit on his tongue not to reply.

  “Come on, Aristaeus!” Another fellow joined in teasing him. “Tell us what you have discovered. Don’t be shy. You did reach an answer, didn’t you? So what is it?”

  Beginners of his same rank chuckled in amusement. Others, however, smiled pensively, embarrassed themselves as if they had suffered the same bullying. The Masters, the Sebastikoi, stood in a discreet state of alert, apparently keen to his reaction.

  Aristaeus felt a strong urge to retort with the same level of disrespect, if not more. He inhaled deeply. His hands in fists, he attempted to control himself. He knew the answer of the cerebellum test, and ached to hurl it on their sarcastic faces. Yet, he hesitated. He dreaded a mistake that could jeopardize his progress or trigger more pestering.

  Somehow, he felt unable to articulate his deduction, suddenly doubting himself.

  What if I am wrong? They will certainly mock me!

  Irritated and humiliated, he struggled to dominate his frustration.

  “Did the cat bite your tongue?” someone jested to general hilarity.

  Aristaeus could feel the eyes of his Master observing his moves, his every gesture. He deemed his physical and moral conduct to be at stake. That realization infused him with more determination to stand firm against peer pressure. He recalled those rumors about novices reacting in dishonorable attitudes such as aggressiveness and tearful breakdowns.

  The banters and harassment increased, tempting his self-control to a dangerous limit. His basic instincts urged him to retaliate with curses and insults! Many had done it before him. Many had surrendered to such heavy pressures on their egos. Many had ended retorting back with cynicism, and even curses on the school, the Master, and his disciples. Yet the rules forbade any kind of hostilities, for being the second evil inflicted on oneself and others.

  Aristaeus resisted the temptation. He refused to yield. He gathered all his self-control. The moment he turned to step away, he sensed an overwhelming aura filling the Assembly Hall. He became vigilant to the imminence of another trial of illusions. He glanced around and discerned a sudden general stance of seriousness and awe. Total silence engulfed the hall in reverence.

  Aristaeus followed the direction of all the eyes around him. He froze in anticipation. Behind the white curtains that separated them from the annexed hall, the silhouette of Master Pythagoras materialized.

  The voice emerged calm and forthright to reach them like some supernatural mist would do; untouchable yet real. “The Truth I tell you. Those who have failed to deal with this test of morality, and assented to their Ego should leave at once, for they have betrayed the most elementary traits of friendship and respect towards the Masters. They will be immediately escorted out of the city, and considered dead to our Fraternity. The same rule applies to the members of the Inner Circle, for we consider them incompetent to continue further in their Initiation. The wealth they have entrusted to a curator upon joining the direct discipleship will be returned to them in double.”

  Aristaeus smiled inwardly, his self-confidence reinstated at once. He realized that, not only had he unlocked the puzzle of the Square, but he had also succeeded in standing firm against the harassment and sarcasm of the gathering. He, in fact, had thriven in controlling his reactions; something very few people could have done under such circumstances.

  Encouraged, he stepped forward quickly and surprised himself by gushing out with fervor, “I think the Square means the physical world!” The resonance appeared strange to his ears. He blushed profusely.

  A stunned silence responded to his enthusiasm. He had anticipated a comment or a reaction of some sort, but not this total stillness. He swallowed slowly. Cold sweat crawled down his back. His heart pounded fast; as fast as the wheel of time hovering in wait above the White City.

  Then finally, “Who spoke?” the Master inquired, his tone strong, yet Aristaeus noted the clear hint of curiosity.

  “My name is Aristaeus… Aristaeus of Crotona, Master!”

  “Aristaeus… well son, listen,” Pythagoras uttered with a pitch in his voice that hinted pleasure and affection. “You are not completely wrong. Let’s say you are half-way right.”

  Relieved, Aristaeus made haste to affirm his zeal and goodwill, “Master! If you allow me! I can certainly proceed in interpreting the whole meaning of the Square, and other symbols as well. I will! Hardships and pains I shall overcome, and my very best I shall commit; all for the sake of discovering but glimpses of the ultimate truth!”

  A faint sound behind the curtain ensued as if the Master cleared his throat to control his amusement. “I tell you this, Aristaeus. You possess the heart of a Lion and the will of an Eagle. You are therefore admitted into the Pythagorean Society. However, bear in mind that you must first undertake our observance period.”

  “Master… Thank you, Master!” Aristaeus answered, thrilled, and confident like never before. He noticed how the Master moved his head slightly for a quick look in his direction. Their eyes met in mutual respect, and then the neophyte gave his Master a gallant nod and a smile.

  The beginners and students – of Aristaeus equal status – stood abashe
d, as Masters and members of the Inner Circle hastily gathered around Aristaeus. They shook his hands warmly, congratulated him for his achievement, and welcomed him as a probationary member in the Pythagorean Society.

  * * *

  At this particular moment in which the sun extended its morning light over Italian plains, Pythagoras ambled all by himself. He cherished these saunters that connected him to the peaceful and splendid Nature that characterized the Italian landscape, and almost every part of the Mediterranean world. These promenades often led him to the adjacent towns where opportunities to confer wisdom never lacked.

  On that particular day, the Master performed something really unusual. While addressing the citizens of Metapontum, he appeared, simultaneously, in Tauromenium, known today as Sicily. The people witnessed his presence, in each of these cities, even though a great distance separated them, by land and by sea. Some ascertained having seen the white man walking on the water that linked both cities. Some alleged that he had overcome the distance, in so short a time, by means of a golden dart given to him by Abaris[37] – the old priest of the enigmatic Hyperborean tribe.

  Whatever the means, such a mystical manifestation shocked the citizens of both cities, indeed. Eventually the news of such a phenomenon stormed through the country and beyond. The sages interpreted it as one of the god-like manifestations that made Pythagoras omnipresent.

  Needless to say that time and events proved Pythagoras a true prophet. Among many of his amazing endeavors, he predicted earthquakes, and foresaw the death of friends he later buried, as seeds, in the bosom of Mother Earth.

  * * *

  Down in the crypt, inside the Temple of the Muses, a meeting of high interest was about to take place. Pythagoras and the Sebastikoi congregated with the nine sister-goddesses of harmony, arts, and sciences. The Sebastikoi, known to be the leaders and Masters of the Inner Circle, assembled eagerly around their Great Master. The occult lesson that followed was aimed at examining the esoteric properties of Numbers.