Primal Myths

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Primal Myths Page 25

by Barbara C. Sproul


  Of Ouranos and Gaia, while I speak

  As my heart tells me to. For many years

  The sons of Kronos and the Titan gods

  Have been at war, fighting for victory

  And power. Come now, show them your great strength,

  Your unapproachable hands, in painful war

  Against the Titans, and do not forget

  Our kindness and good will, how through our plans

  You come back, having suffered, to the light

  From gloomy darkness and from painful bonds.”

  He spoke, and blameless Kottos answered him:

  “You do not need to tell us what we know.

  We know your mind and thoughts are excellent

  And that you keep the gods from chilly harm.

  O Lord and Son of Kronos, we came back

  From gloomy darkness and from cruel bonds

  Because of your intelligence; we find

  An unexpected end to suffering.

  Now, with our minds intent, and eager hearts,

  We will preserve your power in dreadful war

  Against the Titans, on the battlefield.”

  He spoke, and all the gods, givers of gifts,

  Applauded him, and lusted for the fight

  Even more than before. And on that day

  They joined in hateful battle, all of them,

  Both male and female, Titan gods and those

  Whom Kronos sired and those whom Zeus had brought

  To light from Erebos, beneath the earth,

  Strange, mighty ones, whose power was immense,

  Each with a hundred arms, darting about,

  And each had fifty heads standing upon

  His shoulders, over the crowded mass of arms.

  They stood against the Titans in the grim

  Battle, with giant rocks in their strong hands,

  While on their side the Titans eagerly

  Strengthened their ranks, and both at once displayed

  The mightiest efforts which their hands could make;

  The boundless sea roared terribly around,

  The great earth rumbled, and broad heaven groaned,

  Shaken; and tall Olympus was disturbed

  Down to its roots, when the immortals charged.

  The heavy quaking from their footsteps reached

  Down to dark Tartarus, and piercing sounds

  Of awful battle, and their mighty shafts.

  They hurled their wounding missiles, and the voice

  Of both sides, shouting, reached the starry sky,

  And when they met, their ALALE! was great.

  Then Zeus no longer checked his rage, for now

  His heart was filled with fury, and he showed

  The full range of his strength. He came from heaven

  And from Olympus, lightening as he came,

  Continuously; from his mighty hand

  The bolts kept flying, bringing thunder-claps

  And lightning-flashes, while the holy flame

  Rolled thickly all around. The fertile earth

  Being burnt, roared out, the voiceless forest cried

  And crackled with the fire; the whole earth boiled

  And ocean’s streams, and the unfruitful sea.

  The hot blast reached the earthborn Titans; flame

  Unspeakable, rose to the upper air;

  The flashing brightness of the thunderbolt

  And lightning blinded all, however strong;

  The awful heat reached Chaos. To the ear

  It sounded, to the eye it looked as though

  Broad Heaven were coming down upon the Earth:

  For such a noise of crashing might arise

  If she were falling, hurled down by his fall.

  Just such a mighty crash rose from the gods

  Meeting in strife. The howling winds brought on

  Duststorm and earthquake, and the shafts of Zeus,

  Lightning and thunder and the blazing bolt,

  And carried shouting and the battle-cry

  into the armies, and a dreadful noise

  Of hideous battle sounded, and their deeds

  Were mighty, but the tide of war was turned:

  Until that moment, they had kept it up

  Continually, in the long, hard fight.

  …

  After Zeus drove the Titans out of heaven

  Vast Earth loved Tartarus, and bore a child,

  Her last, through golden Aphrodite’s work,

  Typhoeus, mighty god, whose hands were strong

  And feet untiring. On his shoulders grew

  A hundred snaky heads, strange dragon heads

  With black tongues darting out. His eyes flashed fire

  Beneath the brows upon those heads, and fire

  Blazed out from every head when he looked round.

  Astounding voices came from those weird heads,

  All kinds of voices: sometimes speech which gods

  Would understand, and sometimes bellowings,

  As of a bull let loose, enraged, and proud,

  Sometimes that of a ruthless lion; then,

  Sometimes the yelp of puppies, marvellous

  To hear; and then sometimes he hissed,

  And the tall mountains echoed underneath.

  Surely that day a thing beyond all help

  Might have occurred: he might have come to rule

  Over the gods and mortal man, had not

  The father of gods and men been quick to see

  The danger; but he thundered mightily

  And fiercely, and the earth rang terribly,

  Broad heaven above, the sea, and Ocean’s streams

  And Tartarus resounded. As the lord

  Arose, mighty Olympus shook beneath

  The immortal feet, and Earth gave out a groan.

  The purple sea was seized by heat from both,

  From thunder and from lightning, and from fire

  The monster bore: the burning hurricane

  And blazing thunderbolt. The whole earth boiled

  And heaven and the sea. The great waves raged

  Along the shore, at the immortal’s charge,

  And endless quakes arose. Hades, the lord

  Of dead men down below, trembled for fear,

  And the Titans, they who live with Kronos, down

  Under Tartarus, shook at the endless din

  And fearful battle. Zeus raised up his strength

  Seizing his arms, lightning, the blazing bolt,

  And thunder, leaped down from Olympus, struck,

  And burned the dreadful monster’s ghastly heads.

  He lashed him with a whip and mastered him,

  And threw him down, all maimed, and great Earth groaned.

  A flame leaped from the lightning-blasted lord,

  When he was struck, on the jagged mountainside.

  Great earth was widely scorched by the awful blast

  And melted, as tin melts when, skillfully,

  Men heat it in the hollow crucibles

  Of iron, which is strongest of all things,

  But can be conquered by the blazing fire

  In mountain hollows, in the holy earth,

  And melts, under Hephaistos’ clever hands:

  Thus earth was melted in the fire’s bright flash.

  And, angry in his heart, Zeus hurled him down

  (To Tartarus. And from Typhoeus come)

  The fierce, rain-blowing winds—not Boreas

  Or Notos or bright Zephyros, for these

  Come from the gods, and they refresh mankind—

  But others, reckless gusts, blow on the sea;

  Some fall upon the misty sea and bring

  Calamity to men; as evil storms

  They rage; each blows in season, scattering ships

  And killing sailors. Men who meet with them

  At sea have no defence against their power.

  And sometimes over the vast and blooming earth

 
They blast the lovely fields of earthborn men

  And fill the land with dust and dreadful noise.

  But when the blessed gods had done their work

  And forcibly put down the Titans’ claim

  To honour, they fulfilled Earth’s plans and urged

  Far-seeing Zeus, Olympian, to rule

  And be the king of the immortals. Thus

  He gave out rank and privilege to each.

  —Hesiod. Theogony: Works and Days. And Theogonis. Elegies. Dorothy Wender (trans.). Baltimore, Md.: Penguin Books, 1973, pp. 622–65.

  Hesiod: The Five Ages of Man Although it is largely an extended admonition to Hesiod’s younger brother Perses, Works and Days contains some illustrative mythological material. In this section, Hesiod portrays the gradual fall of man from a great and good being to the small-minded and short-lived creature who currently inhabits the earth.

  Originally perfect, the first golden race devolved into the second, silver one of moon-and mother-oriented foolish “babies.” For their sins, Zeus hid them away in the underworld and produced in their stead the bronze race of warriors, who were mortal and violent, but nonetheless glorious in their strength and power. The fourth race of heroes, the Mycenaean kings, proved more acceptable to the gods and some achieved immortality, but the last and present race of men are a shameless lot, doomed to a harsh and terrible fate.

  Behind these descriptions of the ages of man lies Hesiod’s faith in the supreme and creative powers of the Olympian deities, led by Kronos in the first and second ages and by Zeus thereafter.

  THE GODS, who live on Mount Olympus, first

  Fashioned a golden race of mortal men;

  These lived in the reign of Kronos, king of heaven,

  And like the gods they lived with happy hearts

  Untouched by work or sorrow. Vile old age

  Never appeared, but always lively-limbed,

  Far from all ills, they feasted happily.

  Death came to them as sleep, and all good things

  Were theirs; ungrudgingly, the fertile land

  Gave up her fruits unasked. Happy to be

  At peace, they lived with every want supplied,

  [Rich in their flocks, dear to the blessed gods.]

  And then this race was hidden in the ground.

  But still they live as spirits of the earth,

  Holy and good, guardians who keep off harm,

  Givers of wealth: this kingly right is theirs.

  The gods, who live on Mount Olympus, next

  Fashioned a lesser, silver race of men:

  Unlike the gold in stature or in mind.

  A child was raised at home a hundred years

  And played, huge baby, by his mother’s side.

  When they were grown and reached their prime, they lived

  Brief, anguished lives, from foolishness, for they

  Could not control themselves, but recklessly

  Injured each other and forsook the gods;

  They did not sacrifice, as all tribes must, but left

  The holy altars bare. And, angry, Zeus

  The son of Kronos, hid this race away,

  For they dishonoured the Olympian gods.

  The earth then hid this second race, and they

  Are called the spirits of the underworld,

  Inferior to the gold, but honoured, too.

  And Zeus the father made a race of bronze,

  Sprung from the ash tree, worse than the silver race,

  But strange and full of power. And they loved

  The groans and violence of war; they ate

  No bread; their hearts were flinty-hard; they were

  Terrible men; their strength was great, their arms

  And shoulders and their limbs invincible.

  Their weapons were of bronze, their houses bronze;

  Their tools were of bronze: black iron was not known.

  They died by their own hands, and nameless, went

  To Hades’ chilly house. Although they were

  Great soldiers, they were captured by black Death,

  And left the shining brightness of the sun.

  But when this race was covered by the earth,

  The son of Kronos made another, fourth,

  Upon the fruitful land, more just and good,

  A god-like race of heroes, who are called

  The demi-gods—the race before our own.

  Foul wars and dreadful battles ruined some;

  Some sought the flocks of Oedipus, and died

  In Cadmus’ land, at seven-gated Thebes;

  And some, who crossed the open sea in ships,

  For fair-haired Helen’s sake, were killed at Troy.

  These men were covered up in death, but Zeus

  The son of Kronos gave the others life

  And homes apart from mortals, at Earth’s edge.

  And there they live a carefree life, beside

  The whirling Ocean, on the Blessed Isles.

  Three times a year the blooming, fertile earth

  Bears honeyed fruits for them, the happy ones.

  [And Kronos is their king, far from the gods,

  For Zeus released him from his bonds, and these,

  The race of heroes, well deserve their fame.

  Far-seeing Zeus then made another race,

  The fifth, who live now on the fertile earth.]

  I wish I were not of this race, that I

  Had died before, or had not yet been born.

  This is the race of iron. Now, by day,

  Men work and grieve unceasingly; by night,

  They waste away and die. The gods will give

  Harsh burdens, but will mingle in some good;

  Zeus will destroy this race of mortal men,

  When babies shall be born with greying hair.

  Father will have no common bond with son,

  Neither will guest with host, nor friend with friend;

  The brother-love of past days will be gone.

  Men will dishonour parents, who grow old

  Too quickly, and will blame and criticize

  With cruel words. Wretched and godless, they

  Refusing to repay their bringing up,

  Will cheat their aged parents of their due.

  Men will destroy the towns of other men.

  The just, the good, the man who keeps his word

  Will be despised, but men will praise the bad

  And insolent. Might will be Right, and shame

  Will cease to be. Men will do injury

  To better men by speaking crooked words

  And adding lying oaths; and everywhere

  Harsh-voiced and sullen-faced and loving harm,

  Envy will walk along with wretched man.

  Last, to Olympus from the broad-pathed Earth,

  Hiding their loveliness in robes of white,

  To join the gods, abandoning mankind,

  Will go the spirits Righteousness and Shame.

  And only grievous troubles will be left

  For men, and no defence against our wrongs.

  —Hesiod. Theogony: Works and Days. And Theoginis. Elegies. Dorothy Wenger (trans.). Baltimore, Md.: Penguin Books. 1973, pp. 622–65.

  The Orphic Creation Myth Orphism grew up in the seventh or sixth centuries B.C. and, in contrast to Homer’s Olympian religion, was primarily concerned with the destiny of the individual soul, an inner, essential, and immortal self. The concept of man’s dual nature—his pure soul entrapped in a material body—led the Orphics to rituals of purification and initiation in which adherents were helped to become free of their bodies and successive incarnations.

  Parallels to Iranian religion, with its emphasis on Zurvan, the god of time, are evinced in this version of the Orphic myth where time creates the universal egg from which springs Phanes-Dionysus. The androgynous creator first makes Nyx (Night) and then with her begets Gaea (Earth), Uranus (Heaven), and Cronos.

  IN THE BEGINNING time created the
silver egg of the cosmos. Out of this egg burst Phanes-Dionysus. For them (the Orphics) he was the first god to appear, the firstborn, whence he early became known as Protogonos. He was bisexual and bore within him the seeds of all gods and men. He was also the creator of heaven and earth, of the sun, the stars, and the dwelling of the gods. The sixth Orphic hymn, dated to be sure in the Christian era but preserving old elements, represented him in epic hexameters:

  O mighty first-begotten, hear my prayer,

  Twofold, egg-born, and wandering through the air;

  Bull-roarer, glorying in thy golden wings,

  From whom the race of Gods and mortals springs.

  Ericapaeus, celebrated power,

  Ineffable, occult, all-shining flower.

  ’Tis thine from darksome mists to purge the sight,

  All-spreading splendor, pure and holy light;

  Hence, Phanes, called the glory of the sky,

  On waving pinions through the world you fly.

  Phanes first created his daughter Nyx, the Night; in his bisexual quality, he was her father and mother at once. With Nyx, who alone was privileged to behold him, Phanes at vast intervals of time begat Gaea, Uranus, and Cronus, who after Uranus became lord of the world.

  —Walter Will (trans. of fragments 21, 21a, and 168). “The Orphic Mysteries and the Greek Spirit.” Orphicorum Fragmenta. Berlin: 1922.-Quoted in Joseph Campbell (ed.). The Mysteries. Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks. Vol 2. New York: Pantheon Books, 1955, p. 73.

  Ovid: From the Metamorphoses In Ovid’s (43 B.C.–18 A.D.) compendium of mythology, Chaos is depicted as shapeless and discordant, its elements indistinct and mixed. Everything within it is only potentially existent. Land, for instance, is there, “but land on which no man could stand.” And all the elements and forces, the polar opposites through whose tension the world is understood, war with each other in uncontrolled fashion.

  The identity of the great organizer of this chaotic mass is somewhat uncertain. “God or kindlier Nature” appears unexplained: if it is a god, its origin is unknown and if it is Nature, the method whereby it manifested itself out of Chaos into a distinct power is unclear. But once that feat is accomplished, the divine force uses all the chaotic material to make the world. Sky, air, water, and earth are separated from one another, natural forces are put into operation, and each region of the universe is filled with its proper inhabitants. Finally man is born—either in God’s image or from the earth itself—unique among creatures in his ability to reflect back on the sacred world.

  BEFORE the ocean was, or earth, or heaven,

  Nature was all alike, a shapelessness,

 

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