Primal Myths

by Barbara C. Sproul

  From the nothing the begetting,

  From the nothing the increase,

  From the nothing the abundance,

  The power of increasing

  The living breath;

  It dwelt with the empty space,

  And produced the atmosphere which is above us,

  The atmosphere which floats above the earth;

  The great firmament above us dwelt with the early dawn,

  And the moon sprung forth;

  The atmosphere above us dwelt with the heat,

  And thence proceeded the sun;

  They were thrown up above,

  As the chief eyes of Heaven:

  Then the Heavens became light,

  The early dawn, the early day,

  The mid-day.

  The blaze of day from the sky.

  —Richard Taylor. Te Ika a Maui. London: Wertheim and Macintosh, 1855.—Quoted in A. W. Reed. Treasury of Maori Folklore. Wellington, New Zealand: A. H. and A. W. Reed, 1963, p. 19.

  Heaven and Earth Religious instruction took place in formal settings among the Maori. In Whare Wananga or sacred colleges, one could specialize either in “Upper Jaw” learning (the gods, origins, astronomy, timekeeping) or in “Lower Jaw” subjects (migrations, genealogies of the chiefs, the nature of taboos): Special restrictions were placed on the students, and these often included periods of seclusion, sexual abstinence, and specific food prohibitions. The chant form of much Maori theology lent itself not only to ritual use but also to easy memorization by students.

  Maori creation myths did not stop with the more metaphysical issues of being and not-being but continued through the evolution of various forms of being to the creation of man. Like Hesiod’s Theogony, these myths presume the primordial unity of sky and earth. Cramped between their parents, the natural powers—wind, forests, cultivated and uncultivated food plants, the oceans (fish and reptiles), and man—decided to rend apart sky and earth. While all struggled, only the gods of forests finally succeeded, and mankind was discovered hidden in the crevices of earth. Wind, the only child who had wanted sky and earth to remain together, went up with his father and attacked all the other children in revenge: the forests and oceans were both damaged by him; the foods hid in cowardly fashion close to their mother earth; and only man, still defiant, stood up to the wind and quelled his rage. In revenge for their cowardice, man then attacked all his earthly brothers and assumed control over them, using them and their offspring at his pleasure: only wind remained his perpetual enemy.

  Seen as a dialectic of change and permanence, the myth ends in a tenuous draw. While the original stagnant unity of sky and earth has been destroyed, tension still is reflected in the hostility of wind (the advocate of permanence) and man (who wanted to kill his parents in the beginning). Eternal, but stagnant life has thus been transformed into the process of change, which incorporates both life and death.

  MEN had but one pair of primitive ancestors; they sprang from the vast heaven that exists above us, and from earth which lies beneath us. According to the traditions of our race, Rangi and Papa, or Heaven and Earth, were the source from which, in the beginning, all things originated. Darkness then rested upon the heaven and upon the earth, and they still both clave together, for they had not yet been rent apart; and the children they had begotten were ever thinking amongst themselves what might be the difference between darkness and light; they knew that beings had multiplied and increased, and yet light had never broken upon them, but it ever continued dark. Hence these sayings are found in our ancient religious services: “There was darkness from the first division of time, unto the tenth, to the hundredth, to the thousandth,” that is, for a vast space of time; and these divisions of times were considered as beings, and were each termed a Po; and on their account there was yet no world with its bright light, but darkness only for the beings which existed.

  At last the beings who had been begotten by Heaven and Earth, worn out by the continued darkness, consulted amongst themselves, saying, “Let us now determine what we should do with Rangi and Papa, whether it would be better to slay them or to rend them apart.” Then spoke Tu-matauenga, the fiercest of the children of Heaven and Earth, “It is well, let us slay them.”

  Then spoke Tane-mahuta, the father of forests and of all things that inhabit them, or that are constructed of trees, “Nay, not so. It is better to rend them apart, and to let the heaven stand far above us, and the earth lie beneath our feet. Let the sky become as a stranger to us, but the earth remain close to us as a nursing mother.”

  The brothers all consented to this proposal, with the exception of Tawhirima-tea, the father of winds and storms, and he, fearing that his kingdom was about to be overthrown, grieved greatly at the thought of his parents being torn apart. Five of the brothers willingly consented to the separation of their parents, but one of them would not consent to it.

  Hence, also, these sayings of old are found in our prayers, “Darkness, darkness, light, light, the seeking, the searching, in chaos, in chaos;” these signified the way in which the offspring of heaven and earth sought for some mode of dealing with their parents, so that human beings might increase and live.

  So, also, these sayings of old time, “The multitude, the length,” signified the multitude of the thoughts of the children of Heaven and Earth, and the length of time they considered whether they should slay their parents, that human beings might be called into existence; for it was in this manner that they talked and consulted amongst themselves.

  But at length their plans having been agreed on, lo, Rongo-ma-tane, the god and father of the cultivated food of man, rises up, that he may rend apart the heavens and the earth; he struggles, but he rends them not apart. Lo, next, Tangaroa, the god and father of fish and reptiles, rises up, that he may rend apart the heavens and the earth; he also struggles, but he rends them not apart. Lo, next, Haumia-tikitiki, the god and father of the food of man which springs without cultivation, rises up and struggles, but ineffectually. Lo, then, Tu-matauenga, the god and father of fiery human beings, rises up and struggles, but he, too, fails. Then, at last, slowly uprises Tane-mahuta, the god and father, of forests, of birds, and of insects, and he struggles with his parents; in vain he strives to rend them apart with his hands and arms. Lo, he pauses; his head is now firmly planted on his mother, the earth, his feet he raises up and rests against his father the skies, he strains his back and limbs with mighty effort. Now are rent apart Rangi and Papa, and with cries and groans of woe they shriek aloud, “Wherefore slay you thus your parents? Why commit you so dreadful a crime as to slay us, as to rend your parents apart?” But Tane-mahuta pauses not, he regards not their shrieks and cries; far, far beneath him he presses down the earth; far, far above him he thrusts up the sky.

  Hence these sayings of olden time, “It was the fierce thrusting of Tane which tore the heaven from the earth, so that they were rent apart, and darkness was made manifest, and so was the light.”

  No sooner was heaven rent from earth than the multitude of human beings were discovered whom they had begotten, and who had hitherto lain concealed between the bodies of Rangi and Papa.

  Then, also, there arose in the breast of Tawhiri-ma-tea, the god and father of winds and storms, a fierce desire to wage war with his brothers, because they had rent apart their common parents. He from the first had refused to consent to his mother being torn from her lord and children; it was his brothers alone that wished for this separation, and desired that Papa-tu-a-nuku, or the Earth alone, should be left as a parent to them.

  The god of hurricanes and storms dreads also that the world should become too fair and beautiful, so he rises, follows his father to the realms above, and hurries to the sheltered hollows in the boundless skies; there he hides and clings, and nestling in this place of rest he consults long with his parent, and as the vast Heaven listens to the suggestions of Tawhiri-ma-tea, thoughts and plans are formed in his breast, and Tawhiri-ma-tea also understands what he should do. Then by hi
mself and the vast Heaven were begotten his numerous brood, and they rapidly increased and grew. Tawhiri-ma-tea despatches one of them to the westward, and one to the southward, and one to the eastward, and one to the northward; and he gives corresponding names to himself and to his progeny the mighty winds.

  He next sends forth fierce squalls, whirlwinds, dense clouds, massy clouds, dark clouds, gloomy thick clouds, fiery clouds, clouds which precede hurricanes, clouds of fiery black, clouds reflecting glowing red light, clouds wildly drifting from all quarters and wildly bursting, clouds of thunder storms, and clouds hurriedly flying. In the midst of these Tawhiri-ma-tea himself sweeps wildly on. Alas! alas! then rages the fierce hurricane; and whilst Tane-mahuta and his gigantic forests still stand, unconscious and unsuspecting, the blast of the breath of the mouth of Tawhiri-ma-tea smites them, the gigantic trees are snapt off right in the middle; alas! alas! they are rent to atoms, dashed to the earth, with boughs and branches torn and scattered, and lying on the earth, trees and branches all alike left for the insect, for the grub, and for loathsome rottenness.

  From the forests and their inhabitants Tawhiri-ma-tea next swoops down upon the seas, and lashes in his wrath the ocean. Ah! ah! waves steep as cliffs arise, whose summits are so lofty that to look from them would make the beholder giddy; these soon eddy in whirlpools, and Tangaroa, the god of the ocean, and father of all that dwell therein, flies affrighted through his seas; but before he fled, his children consulted together how they might secure their safety, for Tangaroa had begotten Punga, and he had begotten two children, Ika-tere, the father of fish, and Tu-te-wehi wehi, or Tu-te-wanawana, the father of reptiles.

  When Tangaroa fled from safety to the ocean, then Tu-te-wehi wehi and Ika-tere, and their children, disputed together as to what they should do to escape from the storms, and Tu-te-wehi wehi and his party cried aloud, “Let us fly inland;” but Ika-tere and his party cried aloud, “Let us fly to the sea.” Some would not obey one order, some would not obey the other, and they escaped in two parties: the party of Tu-te-wehi wehi, or the reptiles, hid themselves ashore; the party of Punga rushed to the sea. This is what, in our ancient religious services, is called the separation of Ta whiri-ma-tea. Hence these traditions have been handed down:—“Ika-tere, the father of things which inhabit the water, cried aloud to Tu-te-wehi wehi, ‘Ho, ho, let us all escape to the sea.’

  “But Tu-te-wehi wehi shouted in answer, ‘Nay, nay, let us rather fly inland.’

  “Then Ika-tere warned him saying, ‘Fly inland, then; and the fate of you and your race will be, that when they catch you, before you are cooked, they will singe off your scales over a lighted wisp of dry fern.’

  “But Tu-te-wehi wehi answered him, saying, ‘Seek safety, then, in the sea; and the future fate of your race will be, that when they serve out little baskets of cooked vegetable food to each person, you will be laid upon the top of the food to give a relish to it.’

  “Then without delay these two races of beings separated. The fish fled in confusion to the sea, the reptiles sought safety in the forests and scrubs.”

  Tangaroa, enraged at some of his children deserting him, and, being sheltered by the god of the forests on dry land, has ever since waged war on his brother Tane, who, in return, has waged war against him.

  Hence, Tane supplies the offspring of his brother Tu-ma-tauenga with canoes, with spears and with fish-hooks made from his trees, and with nets woven from his fibrous plants, that they may destroy the offspring of Tangaroa; whilst Tangaroa, in return, swallows up the offspring of Tane, overwhelming canoes with the surges of his sea, swallowing up the lands, trees, and houses that are swept off by floods, and ever wastes away, with his lapping waves, the shores that confine him, that the giants of the forests may be washed down and swept out into his boundless ocean, that he may then swallow up the insects, the young birds and the various animals which inhabit them,—all which things are recorded in the prayers which were offered to these gods.

  Tawhiri-ma-tea next rushed on to attack his brothers Rongo-ma-tane and Haumia-tikitiki, the gods and progenitors of cultivated and uncultivated food; but Papa, to save these for her other children, caught them up, and hid them in a place of safety; and so well were these children of hers concealed by their mother Earth, that Tawhiri-ma-tea sought for them in vain.

  Tawhiri-ma-tea having thus vanquished all his other brothers, next rushed against Tu-matauenga, to try his strength against his; he exerted all his force against him, but he could neither shake him or prevail against him. What did Tumatauenga care for his brother’s wrath? He was the only one of the whole party of brothers who had planned the destruction of their parents, and had shown himself brave and fierce in war; his brothers had yielded at once before the tremendous assaults of Tawhiri-ma-tea and his progeny—Tane-mahuta and his offspring had been broken and torn in pieces—Tangaroa and his children had fled to the depths of the ocean or the recesses of the shore—Rongo-matane and Haumia-tikitiki had been hidden from him in the earth—but Tu-matauenga, or man, still stood erect and unshaken upon the breast of his mother Earth; and now at length the hearts of Heaven and of the god of storms became tranquil, and their passions were assuaged.

  Tu-matauenga, or fierce man, having thus successfully resisted his brother, the god of hurricanes and storms, next took thought how he could turn upon his brothers and slay them, because they had not assisted him or fought bravely when Tawhiri-ma-tea had attacked them to avenge the separation of their parents, and because they had left him alone to show his prowess in the fight. As yet death had no power over man. It was not until the birth of the children of Taranga and of Makea-tu-tura, of Maui-taha, of Maui-rota, of Maui-pae, of Mauiwaho, and of Maui-tikitiki-o-Taranga, the demi-god who tried to deceive Hinenui-te-po, that death had power over men. If that goddess had not been deceived by Maui-tikitiki, men would not have died, but would in that case have lived forever, it was from his deceiving Hine-nui-te-po that death obtained power over mankind, and penetrated to every part of the earth.

  Tu-matauenga continued to reflect upon the cowardly manner in which his brothers had acted, in leaving him to show his courage alone, and he first sought some means of injuring Tane-mahuta, because he had not come to aid him in his combat with Tawhiri-ma-tea, and partly because he was aware that Tane had had a numerous progeny, who were rapidly increasing, and might at last prove hostile to him, and injure him, so he began to collect leaves of the whanake tree, and twisted them into nooses, and when his work was ended, he went to the forest to put up his snares, and hung them up—ha! ha! the children of Tane fell before him, none of them could any longer fly or move in safety.

  Then he next determined to take revenge on his brother Tangaroa, who had also deserted him in the combat; so he sought for his offspring, and found them leaping or swimming in the water; then he cut many leaves from the flax-plant, and netted nets with the flax, and dragged these, and hauled the children of Tangaroa ashore.

  After that, he determined also to be revenged upon his brothers Rongo-ma-tane and Haumia-tikitiki; he soon found them by their peculiar leaves, and he scraped into shape a wooden hoe, and plaited a basket, and dug in the earth and pulled up all kinds of plants with edible roots, and the plants which had been dug up withered in the sun.

  Thus Tu-matauenga devoured all his brothers, and consumed the whole of them, in revenge for their having deserted him and left him to fight alone against Tawhiri-ma-tea and Rangi.

  When his brothers had all thus been overcome by Tu’, he assumed several names, namely, Tu-kariri, Tu-ka-nguha, Tu-ka-taua, Tu-whake-ticke-tangata, Tu-mata-what-iti, and Tu-ma-tauenga: he assumed one name for each of his attributes displayed in the victories over his brothers. Four of his brothers were entirely deposed by him, and became his food; but one of them, Tawhiri-ma-tea, he could not vanquish or make common, by eating him for food, so he, the last born child of Heaven and Earth, was left as an enemy for man, and still, with a rage equal to that of man, this elder brother ever attacks him in storm
s and hurricanes, endeavouring to destroy him alike by sea and land.

  —Sir George Grey. “The Children of Heaven and Earth.” Polynesian Mythology and Ancient Traditional History. Auckland: H. Brett, 1885, pp. 1–8.

  MAORI

  The Myth of Io In the middle of the nineteenth century, East Coast Maori priests, notably Te Matorohanga and Nepie Pohuhu, revealed a different creation myth which celebrated Io, “the hidden face.” Io was described in The Lore of the Whare Wananga (in which the Maori council set forth their religious doctrines) as a part of esoteric theology, long known to the priests but hitherto unannounced to the public. While skeptics noted similarities between Io and the Christian god and suggested Io reflects assimilated Western doctrines more strongly than secret native traditions, others pointed out resemblances between this new Maori myth and older ones. Like other Maori creators, Io exists passively in chaos until he speaks, creates light and darkness (each within the other as well as opposed to the other—like the Taoist yin and yang), and separates heaven and earth out of the primeval waters. And like older Maori chants, this myth bears clear evidence of ritual application, its sacred words being equally efficacious in cosmic and human spheres.

  1Io dwelt within breathing-space of immensity.

  The Universe was in darkness, with water everywhere.

  There was no glimmer of dawn, no clearness, no light.

  And he began by saying these words,—

  That He might cease remaining inactive:

  “Darkness, become a light-possessing darkness.”

  And at once light appeared.

  (He) then repeated those self-same words in this manner,—

  That He might cease remaining inactive;

  “Light, become a darkness-possessing light.”

  And again an intense darkness supervened.

  Then a third time He spake saying:

  “Let there be one darkness above,