“Ah, but if you do that,” she screamed back at him, “my handsome brother, my lover, if you do that, every day I will eat alive a thousand people of the land you still so care for.”
“If so, my lovely sister-lover,” he retorted grimly, “I will cause fifteen hundred women to give birth each night.”
Thus, the human condition was forever set.
Amaterasu and Susanoo – The Sun and the Seas
The word ‘Shinto’ means ‘the way of the gods’, and Shintoism – the original religion of Japan – involves the worship of many gods. The most important myths of Shintoism involve the Sun goddess Amaterasu, from whom the ruling family is said to be descended. There are several shrines to Amaterasu in Japan but the principal one dedicated to her is at Ise. Until the first century BC she was still worshipped in the imperial place itself, but as the power of the emperor grew he began to resent the curb on his authority exercised by the priestesses through the oracles of the goddess, and the decision was made to move her shrine to a less politically sensitive place. Interestingly, in the mythologies of most other cultures the sun is invariably a god and not a goddess. As myths go, I found this one irresistible.
After Izanagi and Izanami – the seventh generation of self-created gods to exist in the heavens – made the world and many other deities, they fell out with one another. Some of their creations were the result of the god and goddess breeding, some came about during and following their dispute. One way or the other all were due to their shared fruitfulness.
Izanami had died giving birth to the god of fire but had not liked it when Izanagi had intruded on her life in the underworld. Izanagi had felt unclean after escaping her wrath. He discarded his contaminated clothing and cleansed himself by diving into the river Tachibana. Two gods of different ills came forth from this and so he made two more gods to set such ills right.
He dived into the sea, causing creatures and gods from this realm to come into existence. While bathing his left eye he gave birth to the goddess of the sun, Amaterasu, and while bathing his right eye, he created the god of the moon, Tsukiyomi. Washing his nose caused the birth of the god Susanoo.
Izanagi ordered his eldest daughter to rule the plain of Heaven and gave her a necklace of jewels. To the god of the moon he entrusted the realm of the night and to the god Susanoo, the kingdom of the seas. The deities of the sun and the moon obeyed Izanagi and left at once to assume their responsibilities, but Susanoo lingered, weeping and groaning so that his father asked what troubled him.
When Susanoo said he wanted to be with his dead mother, Izanagi became furious. Perhaps he preferred to suppose he had created all things since his wife's physical death by himself, or it may have been that he had simply not forgiven her for their quarrel. He banished Susanoo, who wished only to say farewell to his elder sister before going to the underworld.
In Heaven Amaterasu was unsure of her brother's intentions and right away he made such a lot of noise, shaking the mountains and rivers and making the earth quake, that she took precautions before meeting him. Slinging a quiver of arrows on her back she held a bow in her lap, tweaking and vibrating the string as he approached.
“Why have you come?” she asked.
“I have no evil in my heart,” he assured her. “I wanted to visit you awhile and to say goodbye before I go to the faraway place where our mother is.”
“You can be very loud and disruptive …”
“But I have come to be friendly and creative,” he told her, and as a sign of this made a proposal. “Let us make some children. I will create boys and you girls. What do you say?”
“Very well,” she nodded. “Give me your sword.”
Susanoo did as she asked and Amaterasu broke the sword into three pieces and put them into her mouth. Chewing them up, she then spat them out in the form of a fine mist and this mist became three new goddesses.
Impressed but not willing to be outdone, Susanoo asked his sister for the five strings of jewels around her neck. She gave them to him and he too popped them into his mouth, chewed them up and spat them out in a mist. This mist turned into five new gods.
Amaterasu declared that all the children were hers because the five gods were made from jewellery that belonged to her. Susanoo did not protest or point out that the sword had belonged to him. He was too pleased with his creations and the welcome it provided him in Heaven. The trouble was he got carried away with his celebrations, even going so far as to play very mean and destructive practical jokes, such as destroying rice fields prepared by his sister. He also filled in irrigation ditches and threw dung into temples built for the festival of the First Fruits. To begin with, Amaterasu tried to make excuses for her brother, but in the end he went too far. One day, while she was weaving clothes for the gods in the sacred house, Susanoo made a hole in the roof and dropped a completely skinned piebald horse through it.
This horrific sight caused such a panic that in the confusion one of the weaving women pricked herself with a needle and died. Amaterasu was so terrified that she ran away and hid herself in a Heavenly cave high among some rocks and blocked the entrance with a boulder. Below and above, the world suddenly went dark.
The darkness naturally proved a great help to the wicked gods, much to the consternation of the good ones, confirming in all minds that something had to be done to bring the sun goddess back. The eight hundred gods of all kinds gathered in a dry riverbed to decide what steps to take.
Upon the advice of the god of ‘Hoard-thoughts’, they brought offerings to the mouth of the cave, such as strings of jewels, a large mirror, a bright sword which were hung, along with banners, in the branches of a Sakaki tree facing the cave. They also brought many cocks to announce the dawn. They spoke ritual words and played music.
The goddess Ama no Uzume, who was thought by some to be a little vain, dressed herself ornately and further embellished her appearance with different plants and bamboo leaves. Then she mounted an up-ended tub near the entrance to the cave where Amaterasu was hiding, and began to dance upon it, drumming rhythmically with her feet, swaying with the music as the cocks began to crow. Soon she was in a state of divine ecstasy and got so carried away that slowly, one by one, she began removing her plants and leaves, then her actual clothing until she was dancing completely naked.
All eight hundred gods began to applaud and laugh so loudly that Amaterasu became curious. First there had been the crowing then the music, now such laughter – she wondered what was going on outside. Moving the boulder aside just a crack, she shouted out to ask what was happening.
“Just that a better, brighter goddess than that of the sun has been found,” taunted Uzume.
Intrigued, and maybe a touch jealous, Amaterasu poked her head out of the cave to see better. As she did so she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. This was indeed a shiningly beautiful goddess. Almost instantly she realized she was looking at herself. She came a little closer to admire her reflected image, then suddenly the god of force grabbed her and pulled her away from the cave. Some of the other gods shoved the boulder back and threw a straw rope, or shimenawa, across the mouth of the cave so that she could not hide herself again.
And so the sun was restored to the heavens and light returned to the world. Amaterasu was forbidden to go away again and Susanoo was to be punished. The other gods fined him heavily and his beard and moustache were cut off. They even tore out his fingernails before tossing him out of Heaven.
Susanoo became a god of fertility much associated with serpents, as well as the god of thunder, storm and rain. He had a good spirit, which did good things but a bad spirit too, and in that guise he never really learned his lesson. However, in killing a snake that had been devouring an old couple's daughters, he found within it a sword, which he gave as a present to Amaterasu. After that he married and built a palace at Suga, where he and his new wife had a son who became Lord of Izamo.
Roland
The real Roland on whom this legend is based was
a Frankish soldier who commanded the emperor Charlemagne's army at the battle of Roncesvalles in 778. The Franks had been withdrawing from a campaign in Spain and were on their way back through the Pyrenees to put down an uprising among the recently conquered Saxons of Germany when their rearguard was attacked by Basques. Some 300 years later the death of Roland in this action would be woven into the Chanson de Roland (‘Song of Roland’) from which the soldier would emerge as a Christian hero, nephew of Charlemagne and staunch enemy of Islam. Aside from its historical inaccuracy (the Franks had been in Spain giving military assistance to a group of Saracen princes), there is a fundamental truth at the core of this story: pride almost certainly does come before a hefty fall.
The Saracen King Marsile of Saragossa ground his jaw and looked around at his advisers. The emperor of the Franks, Charles the Great, also known as Carlos Magnus or Charlemagne, was ravishing Spain, carrying all before him in battle and doubtless even now plotting the conquest of Saragossa itself. At this thought a shiver ran through Marsile. It was not just concern for his city, for his people, family and wealth but for his very soul. His greatest fear was that, in defeat, facing whatever unknown pressures, perhaps hideous tortures, he might be forced to renounce Islam and become a Christian.
Thus far, and with much courage, Saragossa had held out, but it was clear that even the resistance of the people of this mountain stronghold could not last much longer. The faces of his most able councillors looked as mournful as he felt his own must appear. Sitting as he was on a seat of blue marble, in the shade of an orchard, all in seeming peace, he sighed and prepared to address his advisers on perhaps the most painful subject a king can possibly contemplate. Surrender.
“My lords,” he began, “you know our plight, you know the enemy's great strength. Advise me, if you can, upon what course it would be best to take to spare my people and realm from disgrace and death.”
All hung their heads and remained silent except Blancandrin, the wily emir of Val-Fonde. Wise, courageous and loyal, he had been the one man the king had most been counting on. In the past he had given invaluable service to his liege-lord.
“Do not despair, Sire,” Blancandrin said, coming forward with a bow. “Send to the proud and arrogant Charles a message promising fealty and true service. Give him magnificent gifts of rare wild beasts, lions, bears, and speedy hounds, hundreds of camels, birds of prey, mules and gold enough to fill fifty carts.”
The king and his other advisers looked shocked. Blancandrin continued.
“Yes, gold, my liege, gold enough for him to pay his vassals. Gold enough to please even men wealthy with all the loot of the north of Spain and elsewhere. Gold enough for much honour. And, above all, say you will take the Christian faith.”
At this the king nearly choked, but Blancandrin carried on.
“Say you will follow him to Aix and be baptised there. Say you are even now a believer but that you must further prepare yourself and your kingdom for the change.”
Pale and hardly breathing, Marsile waved one hand in protest and pounded the arm of his chair with the other.
“You will not go, of course, Sire. You will never go,” Blancandrin said quickly, kneeling at the feet of his sovereign.
“But … but …” the king stammered.
“What if Charles demands hostages?” asked one of the other royal advisers.
“As surely he will,” muttered yet another.
“Yes,” Marsile nodded, coming to himself once more. “What then?”
It was plain that the clever emir had something in mind, however.
“He shall have hostages,” said Blancandrin firmly. “The best we have, my own son among them. Aye, and the sons of every man here, and daughters if they have none.”
“Yet you say I am not to go to Aix,” the king said, puzzled. “That I will never be baptised as I am to promise Charles.”
“You shall not.”
“Then what of the hostages?” cried another emir. “They will have been taken to France as pledge of His Majesty's word.”
“They shall surely die,” Blancandrin replied solemnly. “But I am willing to suffer this. I am willing to give my son for my king.” He turned to the assembly. “Will you, my lords? Is it not the only way? Charles will have left our country, his army will mostly have disbanded, the rest going into winter quarters. They have been here and elsewhere on campaign for many, many years. Charles is growing old. Maybe he will tell his people he has conquered us anyway. He will have much of our wealth and our beloved hostages. Perhaps he will never return to Spain. And if he does, it will not be for at least a year, probably longer. We will have bought much valuable time.”
The king bowed his head and raised his arms helplessly.
“Well,” Blancandrin addressed his fellows. “Are you willing?”
“For the king,” said one of them. At the back another voice agreed, then another. Soon, all had promised to provide a hostage for certain sacrifice.
“Very well then,” Marsile nodded slowly. “It is the only way.” With that he dismissed all but his inner council, which consisted of ten trusted men. Principal among these was Blancandrin.
“Go, my lords and take this offer to Charles at Cordoba,” he commanded them. “Bear olive branches and other tokens of peace. Take all pains to reconcile me with him. Beseech him to have pity on me and say that I will come to Aix within a month to be received into the Christian faith and to swear fealty to him, to become his vassal in love and loyalty. Do all this and I will reward you exceedingly well.”
So it was that the ten men soon set off, carrying olive branches, riding white mules, with reins of gold and saddles of silver. Passing through Charles’ army, which was resting after the taking and sacking of Cordoba, the envoys realized that none of the Frankish soldiers seemed surprised to see the deputation from Saragossa.
They found Charlemagne situated as they had left Marsile, in a pleasant orchard, his Twelve Peers nearby. The difference was that Charles was at the heart of a great and victorious army. It was the state of that army, especially those closest to Charles, that most worried Blancandrin, giving him doubts about the likely success of his plan.
Charlemagne sat on a throne, surrounded by wise nobles and enthusiastic young men, watching the fencing bouts and games of chess going on around him. No one needed to point out the king to the newly arrived members of the embassy. With a flowing beard, grey head and stately carriage, majesty written in every aspect of his appearance and manner, they knew him at once.
Having been announced and brought before Charles, the ambassadors paid homage to him and to his God.
“Peace be upon you from God, to whom you are devoted. These words are those of our brave King Marsile, who has been secretly converted to your faith, the way of salvation, and he only wishes to be baptised.”
“But this is marvellous news,” cried Charlemagne. He paused then looked to heaven and gave silent thanks while all around his nobles, knights and men twittered in amazement.
“Peace for all is his fondest desire,” Blancandrin went on. “Your armies have long been in Spain. You are triumphant and we are weary of war. You, Your Majesty, may now return to France in full glory, having conquered all. My liege lord will follow you to Aix in due course and there be baptized. He will become your vassal, with you holding the kingdom of Spain in your hand. Many gifts have we brought to lay at your feet, fine treasures, splendid objects and rare beasts, for our king will share all he has with you.”
These wondrous things were then brought forth and spread before Charles and the Twelve Peers and the officers and soldiers round about.
“It is well,” Charlemagne nodded with satisfaction. Nevertheless, he held off saying more. He was a prudent man and never hasty when a decision was not a matter of urgency. He considered everything he had heard before he spoke. “Yes, it is well,” he repeated. “Yet, forgive me, how am I to credit this wonder? Marsile willing to accept Christ, to swear fealty to me … to give t
hese treasures, and more, I take it?”
“Much more, Sire.”
“Yes, and yet Marsile is my greatest enemy. How am I to believe he will keep his word to me if I take my army back to France?”
“Naturally, many assurances, word of honour first among them, will constitute the king's bond, but he will also give twenty of our most noble youths, including my own son, as hostages. These, our beloved offspring, will be the King's absolute guarantees of good faith. Marsile will follow you, after preparing his nobles and people for the changes in himself and our country. He will join you in Aix-la-Chapelle on the feast of St. Michael and receive baptism at your court.”
On the face of it this unexpected news of Marsile's peace offer was an occasion for rejoicing and a pavilion was erected in the orchard, where the ambassadors were guests of honour at a merry feast, full of companionship and the expression of fine feelings.
After mass the next morning Charlemange called together the Twelve Peers, principal nobles, knights and officers. Chief among these twelve heroes were Roland, his friend and brother-in-law to be Oliver, and the Archbishop Turpin. Standing a little to the rear of another group of nobles was Ganelon, Roland's stepfather. A deep and abiding enmity divided him and Roland. In the bold, young warrior there could be found perhaps too much arrogance and stubbornness; in the mean spirited and sly Ganelon, alas, blind selfishness and downright treachery.
“As all of you must know by now,” Charlemagne began, “a delegation from Marsile of Saragossa arrived yesterday with gifts and offers of still greater gifts, with a plea for peace from their king and assurances that he wishes fervently to accept our faith and become my loyal vassal. All this on condition, mind you, that I take the army out of Spain and return to Aix. Who among you thinks I can trust him?”
Myths and Legends from Around the World Page 26