In Scandinavian folklore, there are numerous races of beings, the best-known of which (apart from human beings) are the gods and the jötnar, their nemesis. In rather simplistic terms, these may be said to represent the forces of good and evil. Between these two groups of beings are a range of creatures that come in all shapes and sizes. Some are believed to be benevolent towards human beings, whilst others less so.
Some of the beings from Scandinavian folklore are well-known, and have been used in modern works of fiction, such as the Lord of the Rings trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien. Others, however, are much less renowned, and perhaps only familiar amongst enthusiasts of this field. This article will look at some of the well-known and lesser-known beings in Scandinavian folklore.
The Dwarves and the Elves
It is fair to say that two of the best-known groups of Scandinavian mythical creatures are the dwarves and the elves. According to Norse mythology, dwarves are master blacksmiths who live in underground cities. They are also characterised by their short physical stature, with the males of this race almost always sporting long beards. Originally, however, they were thought to have been pale and ghastly in appearance. One hypothesis is that the idea of dwarves evolved from a form of Indo-European ancestor worship.
Unlike the dwarves, the elves are believed to be graceful, ethereal beings. According to Nordic folklore, elves live in meadows and forests. Although generally depicted as peaceful creatures (and often portrayed as good in modern media), there are some Scandinavian tales in which elves are the perpetrators of wicked deeds.
"To make my small elves coats." Illustrations to Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream by Arthur Rackham ( public domain )
The Scandinavian Troll
Another creature from Scandinavian folklore that many would be familiar with is the troll. Whilst the physical appearance of the troll may differ from one tale to another, it is generally agreed that they are huge and ugly. Their great size, however, is not matched by their intellectual capacity, and they are often seen as slow and stupid.
Whilst trolls are often portrayed as antagonists in modern media, they are said to be able to show kindness if one does a favor for them. It may be interesting to point out that when Christianity arrived in Scandinavia, trolls were ‘given’ the ability to smell the blood of a Christian man. This was a symbolic gesture to personify the old, pagan ways, which the new religion condemned.
Scandinavian trolls by John Bauer ( public domain )
The Seductive Huldra T
he influence of Christianity on Nordic folklore may also be seen in a being known as the Huldra, who is described as a beautiful, seductive creature who lives in the forest. Huldra looks like a normal woman, though with one major exception – her long tail. This creature would lure mortal men into her forest den in order to steal their souls.
When Christianity arrived, this story was given a twist. If the Huldra was able to convince a man to marry her in a church, her tail would fall off, and she would become human. She would also, however, lose the beauty she is so famous for. Another story about Huldra that came with Christianity is that she was a daughter of Adam and Eve. One day, as Eve was bathing her children, God came to visit. As not all the children were clean, Eve hid the dirty ones. Having seen the children, God asked if there were any more, to which Eve replied ‘no’. God declared ‘Then let all that is hidden, remain hidden’, and the hidden children became ‘De Underjordiske’ (meaning ‘The Ones Living Underground’), Huldra being one of them.
The seductive huldra ( public domain )
The Many Faces of Scandinavian Folklore
There are many other beings in Scandinavian folklore, some of which will be briefly mentioned here. The oceans, for instance, are said to be home to such creatures as the Kraken, the Trolual, and the Draugen. Whilst the first two are said to be giant sea creatures, the third is believed to be the spirit of spirit of someone who died at sea.
Little folk can also be found in Scandinavian folklore, and these include the Tusser, who are mischievous underground goblins, and the Nissen, who are pranksters living in barns, though they may be easily befriended, and play the role of Santa Claus during Christmas.
Lastly, such terrifying creatures as Pesta (the personification of disease and plague), the Night Raven (an enormous bird linked with death and calamity), and the Nokken (a water creature notorious for killing its victims by drowning them) are also mentioned in Scandinavian folklore.
Top image: Painting by John Bauer of two trolls with a human child they have raised
( public domain )
The winged helmet is a type of helmet that is found in mythology as well as history. In the realm of mythology, such helmets are associated with the Greek god Hermes (known also as Mercury by the Romans), as well as the Norse gods. Historically, the winged helmet is often associated with the Celts and Vikings, though erroneously so. Variations of the winged helmet were also used by different peoples during various periods of history.
Greek and Roman Winged Helmet
In mythology, the winged helmet is perhaps most famously associated with the Greek god Hermes, and his Roman counterpart Mercury. The Greeks and Romans believed that this was the emissary and messenger of the gods. In this role, Hermes is required to travel swiftly from one place to another. Thus, to aid him in this, Hermes has a pair of winged sandals, which is said to have been made by Hephaestus using imperishable gold. Hermes’ status as a traveller is further enhanced by the hat said to be worn by him, either a broad-brimmed traveller’s hat, known as a petasos, or a winged cap.
Hermes carrying Pandora down from Mount Olympus wearing traveller hat. (A medal based on a design by John Flaxman). ( Public Domain )
Winged Helmets of the Norse Gods
Apart from Hermes and Mercury, the Norse gods are also depicted as wearing winged helmets. Such gods as Odin and Thor are often portrayed with such helmets. Additionally, the Valkyries (beings who chose, and brought those slain on the field of battle to Valhalla) are also commonly shown with winged helmets. It may be said, however, that the depiction of Norse mythological figures with winged helmets may be traced back to the artists of the Romantic Movement.
The vivid imagination of these Romantic artists not only influenced the artistic portrayal of the Norse gods , but also that of actual, historical Viking warriors. Today, it is common for people to imagine that the Vikings wore winged helmets (horned helmets are another popular, though equally erroneous, motif). This misconception is extended also to the Celts, the cartoon character Asterix being its most famous example. In a way, the winged helmet has become a symbol of the ‘barbarians of the north’.
hors Helmet at the Marvel booth at San Diego Comic-Con. ( CC BY-ND 2.0 )
Were Winged Helmets Actually Used?
Despite these representations in art, there is a dearth of archaeological evidence to support the imaginings of the Romantic artists. For instance, there has been no discovery so far of actual winged helmets, as we would imagine, from either the Viking or the Celtic realms. It has been suggested that the notion of northern barbarians wearing winged helmets comes from ancient Greek and Roman texts. The priests of the Celts, for instance, are said to have used winged helmets during certain religious ceremonies. Still, such headgear would not have been used by warriors in battle, as they would have been cumbersome, and would be more of a liability than an asset.
A 3 rd century B.C. Celtic winged helmet from Romania. Image: CC BY-SA 3.0 )
Be that as it may, there is at least one example of a winged helmet from the world of the ancient Celts. This helmet was found in Romania, and has been dated to the 3 rd century BC. This ‘winged helmet’ is in fact a typical Montefortino helmet with a bird, possibly an eagle or a raven, mounted on the top as a crest. The ingenious design allowed the wings of the bird to flap up and down as the wearer moved. It is unclear, however, if this helmet was worn on the battlefield, or was used in a non-military context, i.e. as a status symbol, or for certain ceremonies. Another example of a winged helmet is a 4 th century Attic helmet from southern Italy, which has two small wings on the sides. This helmet is believed to have been used for ceremonial purposes.
Greek helmet made in South Italy, 350-300 BC. Bronze. The elaborate decoration on this helmet suggests that it was strictly ceremonial and not intended to be worn into battle. ( CC BY 2.0 )
Finally, it may be said that the winged helmet belonged not only to the ancient worlds but is also thought to be found in the Medieval world, in particular in the Teutonic realm. The knights of the Teutonic Order are known to have used a type of helmet known as the great helm, and popular imagination has added either horns or wings to this form of headgear. Like the ancients, it is unlikely that such helmets were used in battle. An example of a medieval great helm with wings is that belonging to the von Pranckh family of Austria, and serves as a ‘funeral helmet’.
Great helmet with decoration of Albert of Prankh, Austria, 14th century (Replica) ( CC BY-SA 3.0 )
Top image: Illustration of a winged helmet. Credit: Game of Thrones Ascent Wiki
In the autumn of 2015, a unique Viking Age spiral ring with two wolf heads was found in Goa in Randaberg, Western Norway. Does the ring show Odin’s two wolves, Geri and Freki – or is it the Fenris Wolf, symbolizing Ragnarok and the end of the world?
Bjørn Tjelta, a member of Rygene Metal Detector Club, found the gilded silver ring in a field buried only 10 centimeters (4 in) down in the ground. It dates back to the period from year 900 to 1000 AD, measuring about 23 millimeters (0.9 in) in diameter.
The ring weighs 5.4 grams (0.2 oz) and has similarities with arm rings from the Viking Age and finger rings from the Middle Ages.
Similar to many people today, the Vikings feared wolves because they represented a real threat to people and livestock. The beast has thus been designated mythical attributes and plays a central role in Norse mythology.
Odin’s Two Wolves
Odin has several animals: a horse, two ravens, a pig and two wolves.
Odin’s eight-legged horse Sleipnir is the fastest of all horses, and it can run on land, on water, through the mountains and in the air. On each shoulder, Odin has his two ravens, Huginn and Muninn (“Thought” and “Memory”). They can see every movement down on earth and hear every sound. Nothing can be kept secret from Huginn and Muninn.
Silver figurine from Gammel Lejre: Odin on his high seat with his ravens and his wolves (Photo: National Museum of Denmark)
He also owns the pig Sæhrímnir providing food for all in Vallhalla. The pig is killed and eaten every night, and then resurrects the next day.
Odin’s two wolves, Geri (“Greedy”) and Freki (“Ferocious”) are, according to Norse mythology, lying at Odin’s feet and help him in war. If Odin is served food, he immediately sends it on to the wolves.
In 2009, a silver figurine was discovered during the excavation of Old Lejre in Denmark. The figurine is dated to about the year 900 AD and shows Odin sitting on his high seat Hlidskjalf surrounded by his ravens Huginn and Muninn. The decoration on the throne’s back displays the wolves Geri and Freki.
Was it a Viking warrior who wore the ring from Goa displaying Odin’s two wolfs, and could the ring provide magical protection in battle?
The Fenris Wolf
In Norse mythology, Fenris (Old Norse: Fenrisúlfr or Fenrir) is a monster wolf, son of Loki and Angrboða, “the one who brings grief”. It has two siblings, Hel and the Midgard Serpent, and two half-siblings, Nari and Váli.
Angerboda’s and Loki’s offspring: The Fenris Wolf, the Midgard Serpent and Hel – all having a central role during the events of Ragnarok. (Illustration: Willy Pogany, 1920).
In both the Poetic Edda and Prose Edda, the Fenris Wolf kills Odin during the Ragnarok, but is in the end killed by Odin’s son, Víðarr.
Does the ring from Goa symbolize the Fenris Wolf and Ragnarok, and that that the end of the world is near?
The answer to the question has unfortunately disappeared together with one of history’s most fascinating cultures.
Top image: What did this ring with two wolf heads symbolize to the Viking who wore it? (Photo: Lars Søgaard Sørensen, Rogaland County Municipality)
The article, ‘ The Wolf Ring From Goa’ was originally published on ThorNews and has been republished with permission.
There is a well-known Norse myth which tells of how the Vanir Freyr fell in love with the giantess Gerd, wooed her, and eventually convinced her to marry him. She was not any easy catch - many attempts and various tactics were needed to gain the proud giantess’ hand…
In the Norse religion, Freyr was the son of the Vanir Njord and the twin brother of Freya. According to Norse mythology, Freyr and his father were sent to live with the Æsir as hostages in the peace agreement at the end of the Æsir-Vanir War. Freyr was worshipped as a god of fertility, prosperity, and good harvest. As for Gerd (whose name may be translated from Old Norse as ‘fenced-in’), she is said to be the daughter of Gymir, a little-known jötunn, and Aurboda. Gerd is best-known, however, for being Freyr’s wife.
Artwork by Jacques Reich showing the Norse god Freyr and his boar Gullinbursti. ( Public Domain )
A Vanir Falls in Love
The myth of how Freyr fell in love with Gerd can be found in several different literary works. It begins with Freyr sitting on Hlithskjolf (Odin’s throne), where he looked over all the worlds. As he set his eyes on Jötunheimr, the homeland of the jötnar, the god saw a maiden walking towards a house on an estate. According to the Gylfaginning, one of the books in the Prose Edda , as the maiden opened the door of the house, “brightness gleamed from her hands, both over sky and sea, and all the worlds were illumined of her.” Freyr was immediately love-struck and removed himself from Odin’s throne with much sorrow.
Seated on Odin's throne Hliðskjálf, the god Freyr sits in contemplation. In his hand he holds a sickle and next to the throne sits a sheaf. ( Public Domain )
A Melancholy Norse God
When Freyr returned home, his melancholy was perceived by his father, who bade Skirnir, one of Freyr’s servants, to ask his master what was bothering him. Skirnir did so and found out about Freyr’s dilemma. In the Gylfaginning, the god then sends Skirnir to woo the maiden, promising him a reward for his effort. In the Skirnismol of the Poetic Edda , on the other hand, Skirnir volunteers to woo the maiden for his master.
In both sources, Skirnir requests a horse and a sword from Freyr. Both the horse and the sword that Freyr gives Skirnir are magical objects, as the former could pass through magical flames, whilst the latter would fight on its own, if wielded by a worthy hero.
“The Lovesickness of Freyr”, by W.G. Collingwood, 1908. ( Public Domain )
Skirnir eventually arrives at Gymir’s house, where he attempts to woo Gerd. Whilst the version in the Gylfaginning states merely that Skirnir succeeded in his quest, that of the Skirnismol elaborates on how Skirnir managed to accomplish the task. In this version of the myth, Skirnir attempts to purchase Gerd’s love for Freyr with precious gifts, firstly with 11 golden apples, and then with a magic gold ring that belonged to Odin (presumably Draupnir). Gerd refuses the gifts, telling Skirnir that there is enough gold in her father’s house.
A depiction of the meeting between Skírnir and Gerðr. ( Public Domain )
Seeing that gifts would not persuade Gerd to love Freyr, Skirnir changes his strategy, and resorts to using threats instead. A long list of threats follows, including the promise of using Freyr’s magic sword to slay Gerd and placing various curses on her.
Do Freyr and Gerd Live Happily Ever After?
In the end, Gerd agrees to meet Freyr nine days later in a forest called Barri. Skirnir returns to Freyr with the good news, though the god is impatient, and is not able to wait for nine days. Freyr expresses his anguish with the following, “Long is one night, longer are two; How then shall I bear three? Often to me has a month seemed less than now half a night of desire.” In both the Skirnismol, and the Gylfaginning, the story comes to an abrupt end. It is generally accepted that after the nine tortuous days for Freyr, he meets Gerd meet in Barri and the two become husband and wife.
A guldgubbe , an amulet of gold from the iron age, found by Kongsvik, Nordland, Norway in 1747. It is thought to depict the Norse deities Frey and Gerðr. ( Public Domain )
Top image: Skyrnir and Gerda - Illustration by Harry George Theaker (1920). Source: Public Domain
The symbolism of the Phoenix, like the mystical bird itself, dies and is reborn across cultures and throughout time.
Ancient legend paints a picture of a magical bird, radiant and shimmering, which lives for several hundred years before it dies by bursting into flames. It is then reborn from the ashes, to start a new, long life. So powerful is the symbolism that it is a motif and image that is still used commonly today in popular culture and folklore.
The legendary phoenix is a large, grand bird, much like an eagle or peacock. It is brilliantly coloured in reds, purples, and yellows, as it is associated with the rising sun and fire. Sometimes a nimbus will surround it, illuminating it in the sky. Its eyes are blue and shine like sapphires. It builds its own funeral pyre or nest, and ignites it with a single clap of its wings. After death it rises gloriously from the ashes and flies away.
Image: Phoenix rising from the ashes in Book of Mythological Creatures by Friedrich Johann Justin Bertuch (1747-1822)
The phoenix symbolizes renewal and resurrection, and represents many themes, such as “the sun, time, the empire, metempsychosis, consecration, resurrection, life in the heavenly Paradise, Christ, Mary, virginity, the exceptional man”.
Tina Garnet writes in The Phoenix in Egyptian, Arab, &; Greek Mythology of the long-lived bird, “When it feels its end approaching, it builds a nest with the finest aromatic woods, sets it on fire, and is consumed by the flames. From the pile of ashes, a new Phoenix arises, young and powerful. It then embalms the ashes of its predecessor in an egg of myrrh, and flies to the city of the Sun, Heliopolis, where it deposits the egg on the altar of the Sun God.”
There are lesser known versions of the myth in which the phoenix dies and simply decomposes before rebirth.
The Greek named it the Phoenix but it is associated with the Egyptian Bennu, the Native American Thunderbird, the Russian Firebird, the Chinese Fèng Huáng, and the Japanese Hō-ō.
It is believed that the Greeks called the Canaanites the Phoenikes or Phoenicians, which may derive from the Greek word 'Phoenix', meaning crimson or purple. Indeed, the symbology of the Phoenix is also closely tied with the Phoenicians.
Phoenix and roses, detail. Pavement mosaic (marble and limestone), 2nd half of the 3rd century AD. From Daphne, a suburb of Antioch-on-the-Orontes (now Antakya in Turkey). Image source: Wikimedia
Perhaps the earliest instance of the legend, the Egyptians told of the Bennu, a heron bird that is part of their creation myth. The Bennu lived atop ben-ben stones or obelisks and was worshipped alongside Osiris and Ra. Bennu was seen as an avatar of Osiris, a living symbol of the deity. The solar bird appears on ancient amulets as a symbol of rebirth and immortality, and it was associated with the period of flooding of the Nile, bringing new wealth and fertility.
Greek historian Herodotus wrote that priests of ancient Heliopolis described the bird as living for 500 years before building and lighting its own funeral pyre. The offspring of the birds would then fly from the ashes, and carry priests to the temple altar in Heliopolis. In ancient Greece it was said the bird does not eat fruit, but frankincense and aromatic gums. It also collects cinnamon and myrrh for its nest in preparation for its fiery death.
In Asia the phoenix reigns over all the birds, and is the symbol of the Chinese Empress and feminine grace, as well as the sun and the south. The sighting of the phoenix is a good sign that a wise leader has ascended to the throne and a new era has begun. It was representative of Chinese virtues: goodness, duty, propriety, kindness and reliability. Palaces and temples are guarded by ceramic protective beasts, all lead by the phoenix.
The mythical phoenix has been incorporated into many religions, signifying eternal life, destruction, creation and fresh beginnings.
Due to the themes of death and resurrection, it was adopted a symbol in early Christianity, as an analogy of Christ’s death and three days later his resurrection. The image became a popular symbol on early Christian tombstones. It is also symbolic of a cosmic fire some believe created the world and which will consume it.
A reborn Phoenix. A ventral view of the bird between two trees, with wings out stretched and head to one side, possibly collecting twigs for its pyre but also associated with Jesus on the cross. Image source: Wikimedia
In Jewish legend the phoenix is known as the Milcham – a faithful and immortal bird. Going back to Eden, when Eve possessed the apple of knowledge, she tempted the animals of the garden with the forbidden fruit. The Milcham bird refused the offer, and was granted for its faith a town where it would live in peace almost eternally, rebirthing every thousand years, immune to the Angel of Death.
The Phoenix is also an alchemical symbol. It represents the changes during chemical reactions and progression through colors, properties of matter, and has to do with the steps of alchemy in the making of the Great Work, or the Philosopher’s Stone.
Modern additions to the myth in popular culture say the tears of the phoenix have great healing powers, and if the phoenix is near one cannot tell a lie.
Continually morphing and remorphing, the phoenix represents the idea that the end is only the beginning. Much like this powerful myth, the symbol of the phoenix will be reborn over and over again in human legend and imagination.
Featured image: Artist’s illustration of a phoenix. Image source.
References
Heaven Sent – American Museum of Natural History
Phoenix - Monstrous
The Phoenix in Egyptian, Arab, Greek Mythology - OnMarkProductions
Phoenix Symbol - Signology
Phoenix (Mythology) - Wikipedia
Magnum Opus - Wikipedia
Most people are familiar with the creation of Adam and Eve in the Book of Genesis. But the story of mankind’s creation in Greek mythology is probably less well-known, and is arguably darker in tone when compared to Genesis. For a start, men and women were not created at the same time. Men existed before the coming of women, and degenerated over the ages. Moreover, the creation of the first woman, Pandora, was not a gift by the gods to man, but a punishment.
In the Greek myth of creation, as recorded in the Greek poet Hesiod’s Works and Days (8th century BC), there were five ages. The first of these was the Golden Age, where men were immortals and dwelled on Olympus. They were made of gold, and lived like gods. When this age ended, the men became good spirits that watched over mortals. The next age was the Silver Age, where men were made of silver, and still dwelled on Olympus. They were, however, no longer immortal. The following two ages were the Bronze Age and Heroic Age. In the former, men were made of bronze, whilst in the latter, the Earth was populated by the heroes of Greek mythology. Both ages were brought to an end by constant wars. The last age, which is the present one, is the Iron Age, where men toil and suffer all their lives.
The Greek Gods of Olympus. ‘The Induction of Ganymede in Olympus’ by Charles Amédée Philippe van Loo (Wikimedia Commons)
As the myths in Hesiod’s works are not arranged entirely in chronological order, it is difficult to pin down in which age of mankind Pandora was created. The story of Pandora, however, is intricately linked with that of the titan Prometheus, whose tale begins at Mekone, and may perhaps be placed sometime after the Silver Age. It was at this place that Prometheus cut up an ox and divided it into two portions. The smaller portion contained the meat of the animal wrapped up in the ox’s stomach, whilst the larger one had the animal’s bones covered by a layer of glistening fat. Prometheus succeeded in tricking the gods, as they chose the bigger portion, whilst mankind was left with the edible meat.
Enraged by Prometheus’ trickery, Zeus withheld fire from man, so that they could not cook the meat. This prompted Prometheus to steal fire from the gods, resulting in his punishment by being bound in chains, and having an eagle eat his liver, which would grow back in the night. Prometheus was eventually freed by the hero Heracles. Zeus was not contented with punishing Prometheus alone, but decided to punish mankind as well.
‘Prometheus Carrying Fire’ by Jan Cossiers (Wikimedia Commons)
The Gift of Pandora
Zeus fashioned a maiden out of earth and water, and gave her a human voice and strength. Then the gods showered her with gifts. Athena taught her the crafts, Aphrodite bestowed on her “charm about her head” as well as “painful yearning and consuming obsession”, whereas Hermes gave her “a bitch’s mind and a knavish nature”. The maiden was then dressed and adorned by the gods. As the maiden was laden with numerous gifts from the gods, she was called Pandora, literally meaning “All gift”.
Pandora was indeed a sight to behold, though a dangerous one:
Both immortal gods and mortal men were seized with wonder then they saw that precipitous trap, more than mankind can manage. For from her is descended the female sex, a great affliction to mortals as they dwell with their husbands – no fit partners for accursed Poverty, but only for Plenty.
Pandora was then sent by Hermes to Epimetheus, the brother of Prometheus, as a gift. Although Prometheus had warned his brother not to accept any gift from Zeus, Epimetheus had forgotten about the warning, and took Pandora as his wife.
Pandora was a beauty to behold and when he saw her, Epimetheus forgot all the warnings about accepting a gift from Zeus (Wikimedia Commons)
Pandora and the Forbidden Box
Zeus, pleased that his trap was working, gave Pandora a wedding gift of a beautiful box. (In Hesiod’s original version, the gift was actually a ‘pithos’ or jar. It was not until the 16th century, that the word was mistranslated to mean ‘box’.) There was just one very important condition. Pandora was forbidden from opening the jar/box.
Pandora was gifted with curiosity as much as the other attributes given to her by the gods, and her mind became consumed with thoughts about what was kept inside. She could not understand why Zeus would give her a wedding gift but not allow her to see it. Eventually, she could think of nothing else but opening the box and unlocking its secrets, just what Zeus had planned.
Pandora is overcome by temptation and curiosity. ‘Pandora and The Forbidden Box’ by Walter Crane. (Wikimedia Commons)
Pandora Opens the Box
Pandora could stand it no longer. When Epimetheus left the room, Pandora finally opened the box. Out poured a stream of ghostly creatures that consisted of disease, poverty, misery, sadness, death, and all the evils of the world. Pandora slammed the lid shut, but it was too late, the whole contents had escaped except for one small thing that lay at the bottom – Hope.
‘Pandora Opens the Box’ by Walter Crane (Wikimedia Commons)
Pandora released Hope and it fluttered from the box, touching the wounds created by the evil she had unleashed. Even today, hope still remains in humanity in the darkest of times. As the British poet Alexander Pope once famously wrote, “Hope springs eternal in the human breast”.
Featured image: ‘Pandora’ by John William Waterhouse, 1896. (Wikimedia Commons)
References
Atsma, A. J., 2011. Pandora. [Online] Available at: http://www.theoi.com/Heroine/Pandora.html
Gill, N. S., 2015. Pandora's Box. [Online] Available here. Hesiod, Theogony [West, M. L. (trans.), 1988. Hesiod’s Theogony and Works and Days, Oxford: Oxford University Press.]
Hesiod, Works and Days [West, M. L. (trans.), 1988.
Hesiod’s Theogony and Works and Days, Oxford: Oxford University Press.]
www.greek-gods.info, 2014. Pandora, the first woman ever created. [Online] Available at: http://www.greek-gods.info/greek-heroes/pandora/ www.greekmyths-greekmythology.com, 2015.
The myth of Pandora’s box. [Online] Available at: http://www.greekmyths-greekmythology.com/pandoras-box-myth/
The success of Patty Jenkins’s Wonder Woman, depicting warring Olympians and Amazons, continues to stoke moviegoer interest in Greek mythology. Wonder Woman is the first foray of D.C. movies into classical mythology, a path well trodden by the Marvel cinematic universe. But is Greek myth simply a favoured and enduring wellspring for heroic sagas full of supermen and monsters or are there deeper forces at play?
To the Greeks, the underworld journey was an ideal vehicle for the hero to display his exceptional qualities, often involving the rescue of a soul trapped there. A central convention of Greek mythological narratives is katabasis, the hero’s journey to the underworld or land of the dead. At Circe’s urging, Odysseus consults the seer Tiresias in the land of the dead, where many departed souls (including Achilles) appear to him. Similar journeys are made by Heracles who rescues Theseus during his twelfth labor; Hermes, who rescues Persephone from Hades; and Aeneas who is reunited briefly with his dead father.
Alessandro Allori (1580) Odysseus questions the seer Tiresias. (Public Domain)
Descents into and ascents from the underworld are themes incorporated repeatedly into modern cinema. Film developed from theatre, which in its earliest form was a way of animating mythical sagas. The katabasis has endured in cinema because it can be applied to most characters, times and settings. Often eschewing a literal journey to the underworld, a cinematic katabasis may follow a quest into a type of hell, whether a physical or psychological space.
Christian Gottlieb Kratzenstein Orpheus and Eurydice, 1806. (Public Domain)
One particularly celebrated underworld myth recounts Orpheus’s retrieval of his wife Eurydice. Against the warnings of Hades and Persephone, Orpheus looked back at her - only for his wife to disappear, this time permanently. Roman Polanski’s Chinatown (1974), drew directly on this myth by sending its hero, like Orpheus, into the realm of the dead to retrieve an imperilled soul trapped there.
Polanski and screenwriter Robert Towne created a bleak vision of 1938 Los Angeles, parched by drought and corrupted by a shadowy cabal of oligarchs. Private investigator Jake Gittes, investigating the death of city water commissioner Hollis Mulwray, uncovers a web of corruption and murder. His attempts to rescue Mulwray’s wife, Evelyn, from the violence enveloping her results in her brutal death. In its shocking conclusion, Polanski rooted Chinatown more firmly in its mythological ancestry, pivoting the plot towards an incest revelation. Like Oedipus, redress comes through putting out eyes. Having failed to save his former love years before, Jake grieves over her death a second time with Evelyn.
Chinatown is broadly accepted as a response to Watergate. Like many films of its time, it responded to Nixon’s subversion of US political institutions by depicting a world where shadowy underworld denizens win and the hero fails to rescue his Eurydice from Hades.
In this response, Chinatown demonstrates how the influence of Greek mythological conventions on American filmmakers appears strongest during times of heightened political stress. When many perceived America as attacked from within by communism during the 1950s, for instance, Hollywood responded by reimagining Homer’s perfect warrior Achilles through the towering figure of John Wayne (through no coincidence, the most virulently anti-communist actor of all). In John Ford’s The Searchers (1956), Wayne’s embittered Confederate veteran Ethan Edwards mutilates the body of Comanche war chief Scar to avenge Ethan’s defiled nieces. Like Achilles mutilating Hector in Homer’s Iliad, Ethan hates his enemies beyond death.
In the 1970s, a younger cadre of filmmakers and audiences saw the enemy sitting in seats of power. Underworld quests found more subversive avenues for expression, like Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now (1979), which conveyed the horrors of the Vietnam war through a nightmarish journey up the river Styx.
Underworld narratives also formed part of Hollywood’s response to widespread moral panic around ritual abuse and child murder that spread throughout America in the 1980s and 1990s. The horrific sprees of society’s new apex predators like Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy, linked to hysterical rumours of organised child sacrifice, inspired a film cycle fuelled by pervasive anxiety that children could be snatched up and borne away to horrible fates in hidden lairs. When Jonathan Demme’s The Silence of the Lambs swept the 1992 Oscars it was our neighbours or the corner grocer - not the government - preying on our fears.
Demme’s film deftly refashioned the myth of Theseus and the minotaur into a race-against-time manhunt. Cadet FBI agent Clarice Starling pursues a serial murderer who has abducted a Senator’s daughter. To track the beast, Clarice must descend into the den of captured cannibal monster Hannibal Lecter for clues to slay the monster at large, Buffalo Bill. For this underworld quest, Lecter is the pedagogue, not the monster. His role isn’t to eat Clarice (he passes up that opportunity when she ventures within striking distance) but to prepare her for her journey. Lecter provides the ball of string enabling Clarice to venture into the minotaur’s labyrinth and return.
Jody Foster as Clarice Stirling in The Silence of the Lambs.
Why does American cinema reflect Ancient Greek narrative conventions most strongly at times of profound social anxiety? The answer may lie in part in political similarities between Americans and ancient Athenians and the perceived vulnerability of their constitutional foundations.
Traditionalists interpret Greek art as an expression of soaring confidence in the triumph of humans over the old gods. But the Athenians were obsessed by the ephemerality of their achievement and how it rested on foundations that could collapse at any time. The late critic Robert Hughes once asserted that “ancient Greek sculpture is used to advance a specious political argument” of man being the measure of all things. Yet Greek art, he argued, was just as focused on warding off monsters (representing political threats).
Ancient mythological themes are employed most unmistakably in American movies during times of “witch hunts” to expose hidden enemies: communist saboteurs in the 1950s, corrupt political burghers of the 1970s and the “satanic panic” of the 1980s. In response to 9/11, Hollywood was oddly reticent, as if the seismic scale of the event meant translating 9/11 to the screen was unimaginable. But television responded forcefully, particularly through the great HBO crime dramas - The Sopranos, The Wire, Deadwood - all of which at various times employed underworld sagas in confronting the scarring and resounding effects of violence.
HBO's ‘The Wire’. Bus Stop Billboard Display. (Elvert Barnes/CC BY 2.0)
Ancient Myth and Cinema in a Time of Trump
What can we expect to see next as the rise of “Trumpism” promotes internal American division possibly unmatched since the civil war? Certainly, taking at face value Trump’s identified public enemy the “liberal media” (which includes filmmakers), US political institutions are under attack in a manner not seen since 1974. Like Nixon, Trump accuses his critics of witch hunts aimed at sabotaging the will of the people and uprooting American values.
We are yet to see reactions to the President reflected in cinema. Trump was elected ten months ago and has held office for only eight, so films responding to his Presidency are still in production. But the social trauma that saw the ascendancy of Trump’s base – the impoverishment of the “rust belt”, paranoia over Mexican gang culture, the erosion of the natural environment in the face of rapine corporations – are already part of the cinematic landscape.
And we are already seeing key political battlegrounds - the migration of drug crime across the southern border and the violation of the natural world at other frontiers - framed as underworld quests in film.
Director/screenwriter Taylor Sheridan recently explored issues of American decline in his unofficial “frontier trilogy”, using Greek mythological conventions to do so. The middle film, Hell or High Water (2016) is a relatively straightforward backwoods heist saga pitting bank-robbing brothers against a Texas ranger nearing retirement. The script reflects the financial angst of Trump voters, largely sympathising with their perceived disenfranchisement. But the first film, Sicario (2015) and the most recent, Wind River (2017) are dramatic bookends, using mythology to explore the social anxieties that saw Trump elected.
Poster for ‘Sicario’. (Public Domain)
Directed by Canadian Denis Villeneuve, Sicario depicts an idealistic FBI agent, Kate Macer, recruited by a government taskforce to combat drug cartels at the Mexican border. Overseen by a shadowy operative, Alejandro, Kate descends into a moral and literal abyss to track her quarry, eventually rejecting her handlers’ demands that she become a monster to fight monsters. In Wind River, the discovery of a young Arapaho woman’s body on a snowbound Wyoming reservation teams hunter Cory Lambert with another rookie FBI agent, Jane Banner, to track down her killer.
Wind River and Sicario are violent, electrifying films, which embrace Greek mythic conventions by sending their heroes to the realm of the dead both in pursuit of monsters and in embrace of loved ones.
In Sicario, Kate and Alejandro pursue the drug lord, Alarcon, across a Mexican landscape made hellish through darkness and night vision technology. Whereas Kate emerges from the underworld with her moral compass intact, Alejandro maddened by the murders of his wife and daughter now resides there permanently. As he tells Kate, “You will not survive here. You are not a wolf and this is a land of wolves now.”
In Wind River the murdered girl, Natalie, was a friend of Cory’s daughter - who had died in similar circumstances three years earlier. Like Orpheus, Cory experiences the loss of his beloved twice, heightening his corrosive need to have her back. But the land of the dead is not always hostile. In the film’s final scene, Cory and Natalie’s father Martin sit together in silence, mentally visiting their lost daughters in the spirit realm.
Both films are sprinkled with references to mythological deathscapes: frozen Wyoming mountains and darkened Mexican foothills become landscapes of dread. Cory, like the hero Heracles, is a hunter of lions; and wolves, traditional guardians of dead souls, embody links between living and dead.
Greek mythological conventions will likely again be used to critique what many see as a uniquely lawless US administration. It will pay to watch the output of Joss Whedon, for one, whose The Avengers (2012) depicted an Homeric world where spectacular battle scenes framed an exploration of the transformative effect of violence, the weight of heroic expectations and the toll both take on men and women who deal in warfare.
Few directors working today are as familiar with Greek heroic archetypes as Whedon. In his signature television production, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Whedon reimagined the doomed Achilles as a teenage girl who at one point returned from a literal journey to the realm of the dead. Given Trump’s treatment of and standing with women, it will be interesting to see the nature of the heroine’s quest, and the monsters she encounters along the way, in Whedon’s upcoming project Batgirl.
We may not yet know what kinds of underworlds will need to be negotiated in years ahead. But American filmmakers are uniquely experienced in passing through landscapes of dread, emerging stronger and more enlightened.
Top Image: Alexander Dmitrievich Litovchenko (1835 - 1890) "Charon carries souls across the river Styx." Source: Public Domain
The article, originally titled ‘Friday essay: journeys to the underworld – Greek myth, film and American anxiety’ by Paul Salmond was originally published on The Conversation and has republished under a Creative Commons license.
While completing his Twelve Labors, the Greek hero Heracles (a.k.a. Hercules) got up to tons of mischief—and that included bedding a lot of women. In the process, he fathered a whole host of legendary sons, called the Heracleidae, from whom many clans across the Mediterranean claimed descent. According to Herodotus, the “Father of History,” the Greeks living in Scythia—an area of Central Eurasia—were descended from one of Heracles’s most interesting sons.
Heracles Meets a Half-Human, Half-Serpent Mate
The Greeks who lived on the Black Sea (a.k.a. “Pontic Greeks”) created a founding myth directly tied to their homeland. During Heracles’s tenth labor—capturing cattle belonging to the monster Geryon—the hero arrived in what would eventually become the fertile land of Scythia, then a desert. Geryon himself lived on an island, so Heracles decided to rest up before sailing out to tackle him. He must have forgotten to tie up his horses, though, since they ran off while he was asleep.
Heracles and the Horses of Diomedes. ( Public Domain )
While searching throughout Scythia, Heracles came across an area called “The Woodland.” In that cave, he discovered a hybrid creature whose upper half was that of a human woman, but her bottom half was 100% pure snake. Both she and the famed Greek monster Echidna, mother of the likes of the Sphinx and Cerberus, were half-snake, half-woman. Our viper madam was never given a first name, so she’s more likely an echidna, not the Echidna.
Echidna. Sculpture by Pirro Ligorio 1555, Parco dei Mostri (Monster Park), Lazio, Italy. (Gabriele Delhey/ CC BY SA 4.0 )
Heracles asked this unusual half-human, half-serpent if she’d seen his horses; she said she was hiding them, but would only give them back if he had sex with her. Emotional and sexual blackmail? Par for the course for Greek mythology, Heracles agreed to the bargain, but the snake woman was so into him that she pulled a Circe and tried to keep him there forever by refusing to return his horses.
An Echidna fighting Hercules in the TV program ‘ Hercules: The Legendary Journeys ’.
( CC BY SA )
Eventually, he got really annoyed—and then she told him she was pregnant! The snake lady said she had three of his sons in her belly and asked the hero what she was supposed to do with them when they grew up. Heracles gave her a belt with a golden goblet hanging from it and a big bow. He told her that, when they were adults, the youths should all try to draw the bow and put the girdle on; whoever drew the super-stiff bow and wore the girdle best would inherit her land in Scythia. The other ones, she should send away.
Heracles drawing back his bow. ( Public Domain )
Heracles’ Three Sons with the Snake Woman Compete
Years later, the snake woman’s three sons grew up into nice young men. The oldest was Agathyrsus, the second Gelonus, and the youngest Scythes. The eldest two guys couldn’t draw their dad’s bow or put his belt on properly, so their mom banished them, but little Scythes was able to do the job.
Scythes went on to found the kingdom of Scythia, and, as Herodotus claimed, “from Scythes, the son of Hercules, were descended the after kings of Scythia.” And those very monarchs also wore belts with goblets hanging from them, in the tradition of their legendary ancestor.
‘Ovid among the Scythians’ (1862) by Eugène Delacroix. ( Public Domain )
And Agathyrsus and Gelonus fathered tribes named after themselves in the same general area; not bad for failures. Interestingly, some medieval Irish chroniclers traced the ancestry of the Picts, a confederation of tribes in what is now Scotland, to the Agathyrsi and Geloni.
Hand-colored version of Theodor de Bry’s engraving of a Pict woman (a member of an ancient Celtic people from Scotland). De Bry’s engraving, “The True Picture of a Women Picte.” ( Public Domain )
Top Image: ‘Heracles and Omphale’ (1724) by François Lemoyne. (Deriv.) ( Public Domain ) Like the Echidna, mythology counts Omphale as another of Heracles’ lovers.
Pegasus is the majestic flying horse found in Greek mythology. This creature is traditionally depicted as a pure white horse with wings. The father of Pegasus is said to be the god of the sea, Poseidon, whilst its mother was the Gorgon Medusa. Pegasus is best known for its association with the heroes Perseus and Bellerophon. In the story of Perseus’ slaying of Medusa, one can find the narration of Pegasus’ birth. This winged horse later became the mount of Bellerophon, and can be found in the stories about this hero’s exploits, including the slaying of the chimera, and his flight to Mount Olympus.
Hesiod's Theogony
In Hesiod's Theogony, it is written that “with her [Medusa] the god of the Sable Locks [Poseidon] lay in a soft meadow among the spring flowers”. The union between Medusa and Poseidon resulted in Pegasus and Chrysaor, who were born when Medusa was decapitated by the hero Perseus,
“And when Perseus cut off her head from her neck, out sprang great Chrysaor and the horse Pegasus. He was so named because he was born beside the waters of Oceanus, while the other was born with a golden sword in his hands.”
Perseus with the head of Medusa, Benvenuto Cellini (1554) (CC BY-SA 3.0)
Hesiod also mentions that after Pegasus was born, the horse flew off to Mount Olympus, where it came to live in Zeus’ palace. There, Pegasus was given the job of carrying the god’s thunder and lightning. Alternatively, the stories in Greek mythology suggest that Pegasus spent some time on earth before flying to Mount Olympus. During this time, Pegasus served two heroes – Perseus and Bellerophon.
Following the death of Medusa, Perseus is said to have been travelling home when he caught sight of a maiden chained to a rock. This was Andromeda, the daughter of the King and Queen of Ethiopia. Andromeda’s mother had angered Poseidon by boasting that her daughter was more beautiful than even the Nereids. The god then punished the people of Ethiopia by first sending a flood, and then a sea monster to terrorize them. The only way to appease Poseidon was to sacrifice Andromeda, which was the reason for her being chained to a rock.
Pegasus emerges from the body of Medusa. ‘The Perseus Series: The Death of Medusa I’ by Edward Burne-Jones (Public Domain)
Perseus offered to rescue the princess, and deal with the monster, provided that he be given Andromeda’s hand in marriage. The king agreed to this, and when the monster came to claim the princess, it was turned to stone by Perseus with the severed head of Medusa. The connection between Pegasus and Andromeda may be seen in the sky, where their constellations can be found side by side.
Bellerophon and Pegasus
Pegasus was also the mount of Bellerophon, who came to possess the flying horse during his quest against the chimera. According to one story, the hero had visited the city of Tiryns, where Proetus was king. The queen, Stheneboea, is said to have fallen in love with Bellerophon, though the hero rejected her advances. Feeling humiliated, Stheneboea went to her husband, and accused the hero of trying to seduce her. The enraged Proetus sent Bellerophon to his father-in-law, Iobates, the King of Lycia, with a letter. In the letter, the king was asked to kill the messenger.
Instead of putting Bellerophon to death, however, Iobates decided to dispatch the hero on a quest to kill the chimera, believing that he would not survive the encounter. To prepare for this quest, Bellerophon is said to have consulted the Corinthian seer, Polyeidos, who advised him to seek out Pegasus. In one version of the myth, Polyeidos knew where Pegasus alighted to drink, and shared the information with Bellerophon, thus allowing him to tame it. In another version, it was Poseidon (Bellerophon’s secret father) who brought Pegasus to him. The most popular version of the story, however, is that it was Athena who brought Pegasus to Bellerophon. With the help of Pegasus, Bellerophon succeeded in slaying the chimera.
Bellerophon on Pegasus spears the Chimera, on an Attic red-figure epinetron, 425–420 BC. (CC BY-SA 2.5)
Over time, Bellerophon’s pride grew, and he aspired to scale the heights of Mount Olympus on the back of Pegasus to take his place amongst the immortals. Zeus was aware of the hero’s ambition, and sent a gadfly to sting Pegasus. Bellerophon lost his balance, and fell back to earth. Pegasus, however, continued the journey to Mount Olympus, and went on to live in Zeus’ palace, and was given the task of carrying the god’s thunder and lightning.
When Pandora opened her box, as the Ancient Greek myth goes, all manner of evil was released into the world - ending the Golden Age of man and forsaking them to a life of death and rebirth. Being the first woman created by the gods, she was sent as a punishment. This set a very negative precedent for the women that would succeed her, and this sexism remains in modern times. However, Pandora was not always despised as the bringer of evil. Originally, she was seen as a life-giving goddess much like the better-known goddesses Gaea, Athena, and Demeter. Over the years, Pandora went from a revered goddess to the root of all evil, later to be conflated with other religions and immortalized in art and myth.
Pandora’ by John William Waterhouse, 1896. (Public Domain)
Pandora Unleashes a Punishment for Mankind
The earliest written myth of Pandora comes from Hesiod in “Works and Days”, as well as his “Theogony” to a lesser extent. It is in these works that we see the first version of her as an ill-fated human that brought evil into the world. As the myth goes, she was the first woman created by the gods, Hephaestus and Athena at the request of Zeus. Zeus requested that she be made as a punishment to be unleashed on mankind, due to the transgressions of Prometheus, who had stolen fire from the gods and given it to man. Hephaestus molded her from the earth, just as man was created, but all of the gods gave her unique and seductive gifts - the translation of her name is “all-gifted.”
When Pandora was delivered to mankind, she brought with her a pithos (an ancient Greek vessel), later misconstrued as a box, which contained disease, pain, and various other evils that were released to the world. However, once the box was opened and Pandora saw all the evils fly out of it, she attempted to replace the lid, leaving one thing behind - hope. Thus, ended the Golden Age of man and the Silver Age began, in which man was not subjected to death. With the introduction of women came birth, leading to the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth.
Prometheus creating man in the presence of Athena. Photo by Marie-Lan Nguyen. (CC BY 2.5)
Pandora the Demi-Goddess
Pandora is often accompanied by the epithet “Anesidora,” meaning “she who sends up gifts” which is a variation on Pandora meaning “all-gifted.” Similarly, some have suggested that Pandora’s name does not mean “all gifted” but rather “all-giving.”
The epithet “Anesidora” was more commonly applied to the goddesses Gaea and Demeter, implying that Pandora was akin to these great goddesses rather than the bringer of evil in the world. In classical scholarship, it is generally agreed that, for female deities in particular, it is common for initial deities to be broken down to form splintered, lesser versions. This happened with the so-called “Great Goddess” who would produce goddesses with more specialized functions such as: Gaea, Demeter, Persephone, Artemis, and Hecate. Pandora also appears to be a product of this splintering. It has been suggested, from documentation that is now lost to us, that originally Pandora was an embodiment of the fertility of the earth and its capacity to bear fruits for the benefit of mankind. While it is not in the written record, it can be seen in 5th century BC pottery and therefore scholars have been working with this medium to gain a greater understanding of Pandora prior to Hesiod.
Pandora was a beauty to behold and when he saw her, Epimetheus forgot all the warnings about accepting a gift from Zeus. ‘Pandora,’ Jules Joseph Lefebvre. (Public Domain)
Hesiod’s Socio-Political Role for Pandora
Over time, this image of Pandora as an all giving goddess devolved into the “all-gifted” version of herself that we all know today. A commentary on Hesiod’s works argues that Hesiod shows no awareness of the previous mythology surrounding Pandora in her role of a life-bringing goddess. However, other authorities on the subject argue quite the opposite, that Hesiod was aware of these previous myths and intentionally subverted them in favor of a more patriarchal view. In this sense, it is argued that the myth of Pandora is not a genuine myth but rather an anti-feminist fable of Hesiod’s own devising, that was used as a commentary on the culture that he lived in and that perpetuated his own biases.
It has also been suggested that Hesiod was aware of a shift in power in his time from matriarchy to patriarchy and this was his way of explaining the female fall from power. In later art, Pandora is seen as the anti-Athena, from opposite sides they reinforced the ideologies of the patriarchy and the highly gendered socio-political realities of 5th century BC Athens. Athena rose above her gender in order to defend it, whereas Pandora embodied the need for male control.
Pandora and Eve, Two First Ladies
In her later role, as the source of all evil in the world, strong parallels can be drawn between Pandora and Eve in the Christian Book of Genesis. Each were the first woman in the world, and each played a major role in the world’s transition from a place of ease and bountiful life, to one of suffering and death.
The Fall of Man by Peter Paul Rubens. (Public Domain)
In both stories the transition in the world is brought on as revenge for a transgression against divine law. Both women were given one prohibition to maintain their idyllic lives, and both were drawn to violate the prohibition - bringing evil and suffering into the world and ending the paradise they lived in, not only for themselves, but for all mankind. However, one major difference remains, Eve was created by God to help Adam, whereas Pandora was created as a punishment from the gods. Some believe that the stories of Eve and Pandora have been retold over the centuries to more closely resemble each other, and this may be why they seem so similar in the present day.
Top Image: Pandora, lifting the lid of the ‘pithos’. By Nicolas Régnier Source: Public Domain
By Veronica Parkes
References
Cartwright, M. Pandora (online) Available at: http://www.ancient.eu/Pandora/
Atsma, A. J. 2011. Pandora (online) Available at: http://www.theoi.com/Heroine/Pandora.html
Greek Mythology. 2015. The Myth of Pandora’s Box (online). Available at: https://www.greekmyths-greekmythology.com/pandoras-box-myth/
History. Greek Mythology (online). Available at: http://www.history.com/topics/ancient-history/greek-mythology
